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April 30, 2006 - The World REI Tour

PHOTOS and "Catch-Up Posts" to follow...really, I promise (for now, please visit my photo-a-day gallery... http://www.pbase.com/jenfu/photoadayyear2portraits ).
(The commercial portfolio site is also up at http://www.jenfucheng.com )

Airplanes still worry me. Even in the best-case-scenario, vodka-tonic is often welcomed to smooth out the edges. I’m sitting on the tarmac right now enduring a 45 minute delay due to flight congestion.

The rest of today followed a similar pace but in a mostly pleasant way. I had spent most of the night editing photos. Insomnia leads to productivity but also potentially to unforeseen naps as well. I checked out of the hotel and embarked on my search for the natural history museum in town. There currently exists there a special exhibit on the brain and I was hoping that it would lend some insight into how that silly little machine worked. I did my best to follow directions and I was disappointed when the directions lead me to the Fair Grounds and not the museum. I abandoned my quest and settled for a sandwich at Schlotzsky’s. An employee at the climbing gym yesterday assured me that I would quickly become familiar with this institution if I were to move down to North Carolina.

Before that, I did visit REI (Recreational Equipment Incorporated). It had been my quest a little while ago to visit every REI in the Country but due to the success of this co-op, I seem to be falling behind by the day. I was hoping that the visit would provide some information on the local bouldering scene. I had all the intentions to get some exercise in. But, after the steak and cheese sandwich from Schlotzsky’s and a warm North Carolina sun, I napped for an hour, leaving less than that for my hike. And now, I’ve resigned myself to sit here in seat 3A (to my surprise, I managed an upgrade today…I perhaps have traded my coveted “parking luck” for “airline seat upgrade luck”). Hopefully, in a few hours, I’ll be back home having embarked on my first “travel”, post-three month work-induced probationary period. I hope that this is an indication that I’ll be hitting the road again soon. I have hopes for what’s around the next bend…

January 31, 2006 - The Year of the Dog…and Long-Range Pagers

PHOTOS TO FOLLOW, I PROMISE

Sometimes it is true that you can’t teach old dogs new tricks. But, what happens when the old dog can’t remember his own old tricks? It has been a while since I have taken call at the hospital. This past weekend was my first call as an attending. I remember when I was a resident and fellow, I phoned the on-call attending quite often with questions. What happens when I become that attending? I’m happy to report, all patients are alive and accounted for. It was a busy weekend, especially Saturday. Breathing is such a basic task; yet, some babies are just pretty darn bad at it.
It’s been an interesting and challenging transition from fellow to attending. I do get a different pager. I now carry a long-range pager which I carry when I’m on-call now. I get to leave the hospital while some poor sap is stuck watching shop. But, when that poor sap calls for help, I’ve got to come running, hopefully with a bag full of answers.

Chinese New Year is a great holiday. You usually don’t get out of school or work, unless it falls on a Sunday like this year. But, you get to eat yummy food, hopefully with loved-ones. Being able to take call from outside of the hospital allowed for that. I joined my parents, sister, aunt, uncle, and cousins for a Chinese New Year “snack” which was a pleasure. We so rarely gather calmly like this…everyone is usually running full speed in different directions. Despite being ignorant of the true meanings and rituals of this holiday, I enjoy it immensely. We celebrate it in Cheng-Chen style…2 to 3 courses more than anyone could possibly eat which means left-overs for me for a week. So, I guess a big part of celebrating Chinese New Year is not having to cook for a week. I love my family and I love food. It’s wonderful that the two so often fit together so nicely.

So happy new year…this year of the dog for everyone. Hopefully it will be the year of the dog for me as well.

January 24, 2006 - Baby Makes Three (aka Annie and Fred Make a Baby)

(Photos to Follow)

The biomechanics are terrible! It must be tough to have an extra 20 pounds of jelly strapped to your midsection. I take that back. It must be excruciating! Then again, it is one of the most wonderful things to celebrate.

Annie and Fred are expecting an addition to their family quite soon. I haven’t gotten to see them very often since they moved up to Connecticut a little while back. So, every few months, Annie and Fred make the journey down to New Jersey. Having a good chunk of time pass between each visit makes the changes that much more obvious.

There was a lot of smiling and laughing going on that day. Put very good friends together and that happens naturally. But, what doesn’t happen by itself is the preparation that goes into placing that gathered group of people amongst beautiful decorations and delicious food. Evelyne and Alan were wonderfully generous hosts and my belly thanks them for that.

Dawn and Marc had gotten a head start on Annie and Fred. They got married a few weeks after Annie and Fred, but they were quick out of the gates in building their family. Little Lily Jude is seven months old now and has brought an indescribable amount of joy to this World. It is always wonderful to see Lily. But I think she accomplished another feat on this past winter Saturday…she gave a little hint of the joy that the future holds for Annie and Fred.

For my first baby shower, I think I did okay. I didn’t get to eat delicate cucumber finger sandwiches nor did I sip tea. I did get to “ooh” and “ahhh” as Annie and Fred opened up their gifts. And, maybe, just maybe, I giggled once.

January 17, 2005 - Dog's Best Friend

Dogs are the noblest of creatures. That has always been my belief. The Bhutanese believe that dogs should be respected because they are next in line to be reincarnated as humans. I think the Bhutanese may have gotten the order backwards.
I was lucky enough to have a dog as a friend when I was a child. He was loyal, gentle, caring, protective, and patient. I did everything to prove that I did NOT deserve any of that. In the ignorance of my childhood, I took all of that for granted, appreciating these virtues only when it was too late. That was a long time ago.

Fred is a dog who just doesn’t understand how big he really is. He tips the scales at way over 100 pounds of Rottweiler but still tries to squeeze under small tables. Invariably, the lower half of him is left sticking out in plain sight. Fred possess all of the virtues that I described above…he is the textbook dog.

For this past long weekend, his human friend (and good friend of mine), Matt, hit the road for a vacation involving boards and snow. I had the good fortune of being charged with the duty of looking after Fred. It was, perhaps, a test-run for me to see if I have grown enough to take on the responsibility of caring for another dog. Despite Fred’s enormous size, he is so well-behaved that this would be a test under the best-case scenario. We took walks around my townhouse complex, visiting with the other neighborhood dogs and finding places to pee as well as poo. I learned the skill of the plastic bag poo grab and the ice on the ground helped to solidify that which I was grabbing. The best-case scenario didn’t hold up and we got hit with some of the worst weather in a while. Sleet falls sideways and we suffer. Though with Fred, it was always still a fun outing.

On the last day of my adventure with Fred, I came to the sad conclusion that life has not reached the level of stability that would allow me the privilege of having a dog. I left for work at 7 am. Before that, Fred and I took a quick walk to allow him to do his business. It was over ten hours later when I reached home again. Throughout the day, I was plagued with the horrible image of Fred’s bladder stretching. I’m familiar with the excruciating discomfort of “having to hold it”. I think there are very few legitimate reasons to speed on the roads but anything related to the bladder would count in my book. I rushed home to find Fred wagging the stumpy remains of his tail, happy to see me, but desperate to get outside. I grabbed his leash and we headed for the grass where I experienced an incredible display of bladder capacity. Fred had held it for the entire day. I saw it as yet another sign of the humility of dogs…Fred refrained from that horrible inclination to relieve himself all day because he knew that that would disappoint me. I, on the other hand, let him down for leaving him to suffer like that. Once again, I was undeserving.

Perhaps one day, I’ll have a job that will let me work from home (or at least shorter hours). Perhaps one day, I’ll have a job where I can constantly be at the side of a dog. Perhaps one day, I’ll have a home where a dog can run about freely. Perhaps one day, I’ll meet someone who can be a partner in life (she’d have to like dogs, of course), including helping to give a dog the attention deserved. Perhaps, I’ll keep on hoping…

January 2, 2005 - Last (or is it "First") Chapter

It has been a year since “A” and I went our separate ways. Looking back to when I started this travel, I’m not sure if I was running away or running towards something. The one certainty was that there was much “unknown” in my life.

I’ve touched many corners of the World over the last six months and many individuals have touched my life. It is quite amazing how that can happen, despite having no common language or even background. There has been much kindness shown to me and I hope that I have done an adequate job in returning the favor.

Tomorrow is the start of a new chapter in my life. I start my career as a Pediatric Rehabilitation physician. I’ve been training with this goal for the past decade, since finishing college. The past two years have been dedicated to learning my trade as a Pediatric Rehabilitation fellow. The difference now is that the safety net is gone. I’ve got no more mentors to supervise and keep me from stepping off the wrong ledge. The problem in my profession is that if I step off that ledge, I take unsuspecting people with me. To be quite honest, I’m scared. The past six months have expanded my mind in so many ways. The World is a little less mysterious now. But, it has done very little to prepare me for tomorrow’s adventure.

But what have I taken away from these experiences? I’ve learned that there is a very large difference between “want” and “need”. I’ve seen such severe poverty. But, I’ve also learned that poverty and happiness are not mutually exclusive, just as wealth does not always bring happiness. I’ve seen natural beauty that has been destroyed by our footsteps as well as desolate places made beautiful through the strength of communities. There have been no hard and fast rules.

Now that I am home, am I in the same or a different place? There is no doubt in my mind that I am in a different place. The question is whether or not that place is better. I’ve been fortunate to have made many new friendships, but have damaged some dear ones along the way. I’ve learned so much but have let much knowledge (such as medical information) slip back into some recesses of my mind. I’ve discovered new goals for the future but have let some dreams go.

The first obvious change tomorrow morning will be the different “costume” that I will be wearing. It has been a long time since I have worn a tie and uncomfortable shoes.

I am thankful that I have had the opportunity to wander a bit outside of my usual neighborhood. But, I am even more thankful for the family and friends who have welcomed me home. I hope I will deserve to have them with me as I continue on this journey.

December 22, 2005 - Home Stretch

Turbulence doesn’t seem to be deterring the in-flight service of mixed nuts and rice crackers but is scaring me a bit. The baby across the aisle is handling it much better than I am. Up until now, this trip has run pretty smoothly and I have my sister to thank for that. Right now, I’ll just try to hold on to my nuts, and be calm.

The last two days in Bangkok have been filled with many flavors. It is no exaggeration when one says that the senses are overwhelmed by such a city. My senses (and sensitivities) were surely affected by the hotel that my sister had selected. Reflections is what they refer to as a boutique hotel. Each of its twenty-one rooms has been designed and decorated by a local artist and for kicks, my sister booked me in the overly pink “flower room” (with an overabundance of hearts). I must say that it wouldn’t have been my first choice by I do appreciate my sister’s attempt at humor (even though it may be off the mark every so often just as cupid’s arrow can be).

Yesterday, we started the day with a visit to a few of the “must-see” tourist sights (and sites). The reclining Buddha was enormous (I guess I would be too if I spent all day lying around).

And, the Jade Buddha was impressive, though small. It is an important enough “treasure” to justify a sign to remind tourists not to point their feet in its direction. I enjoyed seeing its attire for the fall/winter. This Buddha is so revered that only the King himself gets to dress it.

The National Palace was an example in extravagant. The artwork and architecture was extensive as was the number of tourists. It was a major change from the solitude and tranquility of Bhutan. Nostalgia can be pretty strong.

The afternoon was spent in a cab getting to an art and fashion trade show one of Bangkok’s enormous convention centers. I was reminded that “not far away” is purely a relative phrase. The trip out there left but 45 minutes for my sister to navigate the hundreds of stands. Time was short because we had massage appointments back at the hotel.

The professional massage is a foreign concept for me. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy them on a regular basis. I certainly could use them. But, in the U.S., the cost can be staggering. As a physician, I would have to work almost three hours to pay for one hour of massage therapy. Here in Thailand, an hour costs the same as the toll at the Lincoln Tunnel. It was a nice treat, one to which I hope I never get accustomed.

I was happy that my sister and Clara had the opportunity for a mini-reunion with their college roommate, Pam. It has been over a decade since they have seen each other. They have collectively inhabited many countries since going their separate ways. Pam now lives in Thailand where she was originally from so it was a natural opportunity for them to relive some old times and catch up. We had dinner at one of the more extravagant Thai restaurants in the City. Even with a name like “Curries and More”, it was absolutely delicious and the service was impeccable (all for the cost of a very mediocre Thai meal back at home).

The night market was truly a test, however. I’ve never been much of a shopper but claustrophobic I certainly can be. It was late and being our last day in Bangkok, my sister and Clara were in a self-described feeding frenzy. The problem is that things can be very inexpensive in Thailand so “need” often becomes secondary. Perhaps the theory is that considering the lack of expense as a barrier, it is better to error on having and not needing than needing and not having. I guess I can’t argue with that and it does drive the local economy…but for me, it also drives me crazy. Anyway, at least I walked away from the experience with twelve pair of chopsticks…falling somewhat in the “need’ category.

The “Princess Room” was already booked for last night so I ended up in another strange room. The room had movable walls which did entertain me when I was trying to accomplish full coverage when using the toilet. But, they certainly were right when they advertised that one can see the TV from any corner of the room (including the toilet and shower).




The turbulence has calmed a bit and the in-flight service has resumed with beef stew. My belly is full but no doubt I’ll eat everything on my tray. I’ve managed to get fat while visiting many “third-world countries”, undoing the weight loss from my U.S. roadtrip. I’m not proud of this “accomplishment”, just surprised by it.

December 20, 2005 - Bangkok, Round Three

December 20, 2005 - Contradictions and Wonderfully So

Paro Airport is quite small which is a welcomed change from the hecticness of larger hubs . Only Druk Airlines flies here with one of their four planes so it was easy to find the gate. Even when my sister was caught going through security with her pocketknife, the guard took the time to escort her to her checked bag so she pack it and not have to discard it. And, they apologized for the trouble.

Sitting here waiting for our flight has allowed me to reflect a little bit on this incredible country. I still have trouble reconciling many of its contradictions.

Bhutan is a country that loves their King but is working to establish a constitution (and party system) by 2008.

Bhutan is a country that uses traditional medicine but has universal health care with western medicine as an alternative available to all (an immunization program and HIV prevention program have significantly improved the health of the society over the past decade).

Bhutan is a country that is vastly rural but has mandatory schooling for all children (any child who lives more than 7 kilometers from a school receives boarding).

Bhutan is a country who’s rooted in its traditions but has made incredible strides in their modernization.

Bhutan is country that utilizes meat in its diet extensively but they do not slaughter an animal themselves (perhaps a bit hypocritical).

Bhutan is a country with a common language (with 21 regional dialects) but where the teaching of English is mandatory from the age of seven.

Bhutan is a country where there is much poverty but almost no begging.

I lack an understanding of the complexities of their governmental system and I am sure that there are problems as in all societies. So far, I’ve been learning about Bhutan on a micro-scale and have found a calm that has been so elusive. I get the feeling that most people are fascinated by advancement, modernization, and technology but find contentment in their lives. As a quick example, I found that many of the people who I encountered were fascinated by my digital camera but I never felt that I would be walking down a dark alley and have it swiped from my shoulder.

Ten days has been hardly enough to explore this corner of the World. And, one of my regrets of pursuing my “traditional” career path is that it will limit my ability to return for at least one and a half years. But, perhaps this career path is the best way (and most rewarding in the process) to gain the means to return. Perhaps, like many of the Bhutanese people whom I met, I will find content in the life that is my own.

December 19, 2005 - Sucking Wind

I knew I would get out of shape on this trip. I even convinced myself that it would be good to take a month off from climbing to let the right shoulder heal and to get rid of a few bad engrams. I didn’t figure my lungs would shrink to the size of kidney beans.

I started the day extremely excited for the day’s events. I have seen photos of the Taktsang Monastery, a.k.a. Tiger’s Nest, and wanted to see it badly. Sure, it would be almost 2000 feet of vertical gain on the hike but how bad could it be?

On the way, however, I encountered something just as impressive. A group of young adults were carrying bricks. They were not using wheelbarrows or carts. They were putting bricks into baskets strapped to their backs. One teenager had bricks strapped directly to his back. They were carrying their loads up the trail to build a prayer wheel. No one was directing them…just their faith. One boy had dropped several of his bricks so we each grabbed a few to help out. I picked up five bricks and after a few hundred yards, I was done (and the bricks were done with me). I turned around and saw the same boy with a dozen or more bricks in his basket, and he was still carrying a smile.


The hike to the first overlook was a haul but the views from each switchback were overwhelming beautiful. I welcomed the tea break at the overlook. It was a few moments’ rest the quads and then we were off and running. We’ll, not really running.

When we reached the monastery, I had lost the feeling in my legs which was probably a good thing since they would have caused me a great deal of pain otherwise. I left my camera with the guard at the gate. We had special permission to enter the monastery but no photos would be allowed inside. I felt rather light putting my gear down after having carried it up the mountain.

According to folklore, the Tiger’s Nest was built by fairies in the 8th century. In the absence of fairies, they it must have been built by people. In either case, this architectural wonder perched on a rock ledge thousands of feet above the valley floor was beyond belief. I’m grateful for the rare opportunity to enter this place to which all people of Bhutan make a pilgrimage during their life.

We returned for lunch at the first overlook. Knowing that I would have very few opportunities to have a good Bhutanese meal in the coming months, I gorged myself. I barely made it down without exploding.

When we reached the trailhead, we were met by a family who had journeyed for 9 days from high up in the mountains to reach the same point. They make this journey every year to escape the hostile weather of the mountains. What first caught my eye was the incredibly large load of firewood that the grandmother was carrying. The next think that I noticed was their warm and welcoming smiles. They let me shoot a quick family portrait and then they were off to find the comforting shade for a well-deserved rest.

Our farewell dinner was very enjoyable. I was very happy that Tenzin overlooked his shyness to join us at dinner. We learned a bit more about our friends, Tenzin and Passang. And, I am sad that we must go our separate ways tomorrow. In a smaller world, I think I would very much enjoy many more conversations over tea or ara. Perhaps in 2007, I’ll be fortunate enough do so around a campfire below high peaks.

December 18, 2005 - Hitting a Target That You Can Hardly See

It was a little strange seeing familiar sites on the way back. I remembered the little farm where we had asked to stop because it was the first sighting of a tiered farm. Now, we have seen so many. The view at the stop near Dochula Pass, however, was just as spectacular as the first time.



Thimphu seemed like a huge city this time. I remember when we arrived just over a week ago, the streets looked so narrow and buildings were so short. It is so true that everything is relative and Thimphu was a metropolis compared to the communities of the past few days. I suppose this is a healthier transition back to the hustle and bustle that I’ll find back at home. But, somehow, I slept so much better when I had no television. Before leaving for this trip, I had been using the television to break the silence at night. Somehow, the silence made me lonely at home. In Bumthang, I didn’t need it. Perhaps it was the barking dogs that kept me company. I’m not quite sure. But, it will be interesting to see what the nights will hold for me when I’m back in my own bed.
Today, we visited our last Dzong for this trip. The Wangdue Dzong was wonderful, holding beautiful carvings and extensive paintings. It was Sunday which meant that the young monks were out and about. At one point as we first approached the Dzong, Tenzin called out to some of the young monks. He then produced several photos from his Go. The monks excitedly gathered around, examining the photos. A tourist had visited Wangdue one and a half years ago and had sent the photos back with the request that they be delivered, if possible, to the original subjects. It took quite a bit of time before the path of these monks crossed with Tenzin and Passang, but the task was completed…a promise kept. There was so much excitement and happiness brought by these photographs.












Sonam joined us for lunch to welcome us back from our journey. It was such a pleasure. Our interactions have been limited to no more than three hours but that has been enough to develop a great deal of respect for her. I would welcome the opportunity to chat for many more hours. Perhaps there will be the opportunity in 2007, the year I hope to return to undertake the Jumolhari trek. If all goes well, Passang will be guiding, giving me a chance to soak up a bit more of his knowledge. Besides, I hear he’s pretty good at fending off vicious yak-attacks at high altitude.


I thought we were going to finish our visit to Bhutan without experiencing their national sport. But, as we were driving out of Thimphu towards Paro, I spotted some archers in a nearby field. Tenzin and Passang obliged when I begged for a chance to watch. Archery is such an important part of Bhutanese culture. It was a trademark of their military and continues to be a source of national pride. Archery is enjoyed as serious competition as well as friendly gatherings. Passang had told us stories of the complicated procedures of issuing archery challenges that has become tradition. He spoke of how competitors from opposing teams would stand close to targets to distract their opponents and at times would wear thick Go’s so they could block flying arrows with their bodies as they approached their mark. These stories seemed so far-fetched until I witnessed many of them. I watched as archers would send arrows across the 150 meter-long field towards a small plank that was the target. Their accuracy was unbelievable. But what was even more amazing was what occurred near the targets. Opponents would stand inches from their opponents’ target in order to taunt and distract. They would hold their ground as real arrows soared towards them, moving only if an arrow was going to strike them (and only moving inches away). I make no judgments of their insane behavior. Besides, when I left, there was still the same number of competitors standing as when I first arrived. They must be doing something right.






We are staying at the Hotel Olathang tonight, one of Paro’s more upscale hotels. The view is supposed to be quite impressive and, from the past week’s observations, I have no reason to doubt it. I look forward to the morning.

December 17, 2005 - On the Ropes and then “Dzong” for the Count

I never liked sitting on a tour bus or van, looking at the scenery zipping by. Perhaps it’s because it makes me feel so isolated; but, yet it makes me exhausted. I saw lovely towns, and beautiful valleys zip by. Children waved. Cows moved aside. It was all a blur. I guess we had to get from Bumthang to Wangdue somehow but the drive stood in stark contrast to the previous two days where we were immersed in all that was around us.

The long drive was broken up by a stop at the Trongsa Dzong. After visiting so many of this “fortresses” I would have thought that I would have tired of them. I’m happy to report that I’m not Dzong’d out yet. Being the political and religious centers of the Country, they are appropriately grand. This is no surprise for a people who are fiercely patriotic and devoted to their faith.






It was a bit difficult heading back west this morning. We are well past the midway point of our journey through Bhutan. But, I do find consolation in the fact that the Tiger’s Nest Monastery is still ahead.

December 16, 2005 - When in Rome...Part 2

The second day of the festival brought more excitement. There were similar dances and performances.

The clowns, however, were out in force. Apparently, to be a clown, one must have a command of all dances and traditions…in order to mock appropriately. They were the most skilled and experienced of all the performers.

The weapon of choice for many of these clowns is the large, wooden pen_s (sorry, I know many work computers filter content). This is not to offend or shock. Rather, it has its source in the stories and folklore of the people of Bhutan. There are stories of the Holy Mad Man who vanquishes evil with his “instrument”. Bhutanese culture is new to me so I may have some of my details mixed up; but, certainly, no one, including the children, was offended.

So, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. And, Clara certainly did. The Lonely Planet guide to Bhutan suggests that visitors should refrain from interfering with the festivals and be respectful observers only. So, when the clowns invited us up to perform a “western” a dance and then a song, Clara promptly borrowed one of the clown’s tool for use as an impromptu microphone. The locals appeared amused and I do believe that this village has rewritten the Lonely Planet guide.

I found much happiness in the curiosity of digital photography that I encountered over the past two days. It was clear that this was a new concept for many of the people of this village. There were a few of the elders who kindly declined being photographed. According to our guides, this stems from superstitions to which some of the elders subscribe. The younger people were open to being photographed and were quite amused with the immediate gratification of seeing their images on the LCD screen of my camera. A quick lesson and some of the children were able to effectively operate my Nikon D2X. I very much wanted to send copies of the photos to my generous subjects but found out that there is no mail delivery to such a remote place. I finally found a student who attends boarding school in the nearest town, Jakar. I will be mailing the photos to him, hoping that they will reach back to his home village.

The festival was the main reason that I came to Bhutan and the experience surpassed my expectations. My heart was warmed by the openness and generosity of the people of the Tang Valley. They welcomed us, compete strangers, to participate with them. I don’t even mind that they had a few laughs at our expense. And, as a bonus, they cured my nauseated stomach.

December 16, 2005 - When in Rome Part 1

Passang was right. Ara does cure many ailments. My nausea persisted into the first day of the festival. I was feeling a bit weak but excited to be there. The energy surrounding us was contagious and many times I forgot that I was feeling icky. The 2 hour drive up the “unimproved” road faded into distant memory as we watched the people of the Tang Valley enjoy the Chojam Rabney Festival. For three hundred years, this festival has been celebrated annually and much of it hasn’t changed.

We spent the day observing and interacting on a casual level with many of the Drukpas (Bhutanese People). Bhutan is still rarely visited by tourists and being a remote village, the people at this festival rarely have “visitors”. Yet, they were friendly and generous. One gentleman invited us to sit and drink Ara with his family. I was first hesitant for fear of falling deeper into my pit of nausea. But, I feared offending our host even more. As I drank, his wife continued to pour. I quickly learned that it is tradition to fill a glass as quickly as your guest can drink. After several glasses, we bid our kind hosts goodnight and started on our 30 minute hike up to our accommodations for the evening.


















I never thought I would get a chance to stay in a castle. The Ugyenchholing Palace was built in the 16th century and truly was a palace. Parts of it have been preserved and restored. A small corner has been converted into a guesthouse with six unique rooms. My chamber was named the “room between rooms” because it was precisely that. The palace now has only a small supply of electricity provided by a few solar panels. A few fluorescent lights are all that can be powered. Some of the rooms are heated with wood-burning stoves. There are no telephones. From what I understand, reservations for the guesthouse much be phoned into town and the information must be carried up to the hosts the next time someone visits the valley. Yet, the hosts provided us with wonderful hospitality and a delicious meal. I was able to enjoy it a bit more because, just as Passang had promised me, the Ara had made my stomach feel much better.

December 15, 2005 - Bowel Motility...Blessing or Curse

After 3 ½ weeks, my digestive system finally gave out. Yesterday started just fine, exploring the Jakar Dzong as well as monasteries from the eighth and ninth century. The buildings were testaments to the Bhutanese people’s religious devotion. At one point, a fire erupted on the hillside. The cause was unknown but from our distant hotel restaurant window, we could see dozens of monks from the monastery as well as countless individuals from town run towards the fire to help. At one point, I feared that the fire would rage out of control, endangering the monastery at the top of the hill, but the townspeople and monks, using buckets to carry water, were able to contain it.

Then, everything went downhill. After a pleasant stroll through town, we returned to the hotel. That’s when the stomach started to scream and my lunch attempted to make a round trip. At one point, I gave up and let it go on its way. I spent the balance of the evening “doing the Technicolor yawn” as we used to say in college (referring to other people, of course). I skipped dinner and it was Niquil to the rescue once again, allowing me to sleep through the nausea. I questioned the wisdom of sedating myself in a room where carbon monoxide poisoning is such a realistic possibility but my stomach muscles were starting to cramp from all the heaving. I was determined to recover since the Chojam Rabney Festival was the next day.







It’s the morning of the festival now and the stomach is still unsettled. I have Imodium in case the body tries something tricky on the hike to the festival.

December 14, 2005 - Tripping on Malarone

Some people who speak about dreams talk about “day residue”. If I can remember correctly, “day residue” is a concept that states that the content of one’s dream is often directly related to the events of that person’s day. The relation can be loose or abstract and does not have to be an accurate account of the day. On this trip, I seem to be having not “day residue” but rather “life residue”.

This past year has been filled with quite a large concentration of significant events, some joyous, others sad, and a few that just were. Last light’s dreams were particularly vivid. Perhaps they were helped along by the Malarone which I have been taking to try to side-step malaria. Or, it could have been all the smoke and fumes from the wood-burning stove. Then again, the stove went out in the middle of the night so it may have been hypothermia that was the catalyst. Whatever the cause, it was once again a fascinating ride.

The dreams have been vivid but many times only had hints of the reality that I remember. Even so, the sad events of the dreams still do sting and for these past few weeks, the sad seem to have outnumbered the happy. This pattern is very different from that of the past few months which have been positive in so many respects. But perhaps whatever is coloring my dreams at this time is finding the small, dark corners of the subconscious mind and shining a light there fore me to acknowledge and address. I suppose that when one is taking inventory, it is important to count every item on the shelves, not just the ones you want to see. I guess I’ll be doing a “recount” of my inventory…no, rather a “re-account” of this year’s events in preparation for the business plan for the new year.

December 13, 2005 - Leg-Stretching

The toilet flushes completely. Then again, I think I may die of carbon monoxide poisoning tonight. It is very cold here in Jakar Valley and the River Lodge has selected wood-burning stoves to heat the rooms. I won’t question their wisdom but I know my smoke detector at home would be screaming right now. It is probably because I don’t quite know how to use the stove but I used no more kerosene than the hotel staff member who helped me to start the fire initially. The flames have gone out once again and perhaps I will freeze instead of asphyxiate.

Tenzin did an incredible job today. It was quite the haul to get here. The winding mountain road was icy at times and we saw a truck teetering on the edge of the cliff, its descent into oblivion halted only by a large rock upon which one front tire had wedged itself. No doubt the driving took every bit of attention Tenzin had. He must be exhausted and we are appreciative.

One of our few stops was at the Black-necked crane preserve. We could not approach any of these beautiful creatures but could only view them through telescopes. To kill one of these birds can mean a life sentence in prison. These endangered birds are regarded as holy. They are migratory…their arrival signifies the time to stop harvesting and their departure marks the time to begin planting the new crop.

It was a long day in the van with just a few occasions to “stretch the legs”. I finally figured out that that meant empty the bladder, not engage in yoga. Tomorrow will be for local exploration, provided that the stove doesn’t do me in.

December 12, 2005 - Mountain Passes and Madmen

We left the city today to make or way farther east, and a bit back into time.

The van climbed up the just-a-bit-wider-than-one-lane-road, pulling over onto the shoulder when each oncoming car came by. Over the next hour or two, we journeyed up to 10,500 feet across the Dochula pass. At the crest, there was an amazing shrine. The landscape was carpeted with prayer flags. I’ve always loved how the colors of prayer flags dance in the wind, usually contrasted by the surrounding harsh environment of high mountain peaks. Yet, I understood very little about them. This trip has been an amazingly educational experience, largely due to the knowledge of Passang, our guide. I learned about the prayers that are written on the flags, the proper days to fly them, and the important guidelines that need to be observed when positioning them. There is so much to learn that it is often a challenge to digest. The little that I have learned about Buddhism in college, I’ve approached as an intellectual pursuit. It has been quite experience learning about Buddhism from individuals who are spiritually guided by this religion. I very much look forward to another week of exploration.












We approached the countryside and arrived at the Punakha Dzong, the former winter capital and present administrative seat of the district. The Dzong is also the winter residence of the central monastic body and its Chief Abbot. The sun was crawling over the mountains and the Dzong was blanketed in warming light. Punakha Dzong is surrounded by two rivers, framing this lovely site perfectly.






We were allowed into the inner hall of the Dzong. Dozens of young monks were receiving their lessons. The light shown through the windows and gently illuminated the corners of the hall in beautiful light. I tried to experience this place fully with all senses and my memory was not allowed the assistance of my camera.

The day ended with a walk through the fields of the mountainside, up to the Temple of the Holy Mad-Man. We met the children of this village along the way. One child requested a pen which I was happy to oblige. Others were playing happily and became even more enthusiastic when they saw themselves in the LCD of my camera.






We reached the inner halls of the temple above and were fortunate enough to experience a very special ceremony. Amongst the guttural but beautiful chanting of a gathering of the more senior monks, the Abbot was giving special blessings. I still have little understanding of the ceremony but am glad to have had this rare opportunity to participate.

As we head farther east, the landscape has changed from the busy streets of Bhutan’s capital to the forested lands of its countryside. Children wear more tattered clothes and have more dirt of their faces. The lights are dimmer. But, this journey is getting richer and richer.

December 11, 2005 - Flavors

The market was rich with colors. The people of Thimphu were dressed in their “Sunday Best” and the market was alive at every corner. One can pick up a few kilograms of yak meet, a handful of betelnuts, a singing bowel, a hay broom, or a bunch of bananas. The market was definitely a one stop shop. I love markets. It is an intense look into the local culture.





















After the market, we made our way up to another dzong. Being amazed is becoming the only thing commonplace for me in Bhutan.





The textiles of Bhutan are not distillable from its culture. The woven cloth is composed of two very important components…time and skill. The Bhutanese people possess the necessary skill and are willing to dedicate the time to their art. We had the opportunity to visit a textile factory to observe this dedication.



Our last scheduled stop was the Takin preserve. The Takin is the national animal of Bhutan. It is part ox, part goat in its characteristics and is known to be an aggressively fierce creature. Its smell unfortunately is just as fierce.


The Takin may be the national animal but the dog definitely lives the dog’s life in Bhutan. My sister has been full of facts, learned from pouring over Lonely Planet guides. She informed me tonight that the dog is highly regarded in Bhutan because it is believed that dogs pretty much the next in line to be reincarnated as humans. This gives me yet another good reason to really appreciate Bhutan. I may disagree a little though. I sometimes believe that humans are next in line to be reincarnated as dogs.



Tomorrow, we head off to Punakha via the Dochula Pass (10,500 ft). I’m hoping that we will be treated to a view of the Himalayan range, the subject of so much of my fascination.

December 10, 2005 - It was a very, very long day.

The beds at the Majestic Grand Hotel were very comfortable. Those soft goose-down comforters and high thread-count sheets were luxurious. Too bad I enjoyed them for only a 20 minute power-nap. At 3:30 am, we were off to the airport to catch a Druk Airlines flight (they have but one plane so it wasn’t difficult to find) to the Kingdom of Bhutan.

We bumped into Joel on the check-in line at the airport. Joel is a university student in Wisconsin who is currently taking some time off to see the World. He’s well along his way of his goal to tag all seven continents. He makes the forth and last person in our group.

Calcutta is a mysterious place to me. It will remain so since we only stopped there to pick up passengers and fuel before taking of for the last leg to Bhutan. This last leg packed some major punch in the form of tall Himalayan peaks. Those mountains have inspired so many, and caused the demise of others. Today, they formed just a backdrop for the start of our adventure.

Our guides, Passang and Tenzing, met us as we exited the airport. They met us with warm smiles which were helpful at the time since we were met with temperatures just above freezing. They were dressed in traditional Bhutanese garb which didn’t seem adequate to protect them from the cold. I thought perhaps that they had long underwear but that couldn’t have been the case with their exposed legs. But, I was in the Country for 30 minutes. I shouldn’t know better.

Our travels in Bhutan started at the Paro Rinpung Dzong, a large “fortress” dating back to the 18th century. We encountered many monks along the way who were visiting there was well. There were sleeping dogs and drying red peppers in the sun. Passang warned us that the peppers were quite powerful which made me want to try them even more. Little did I know that I would get the chance very soon after.











Lunch was in a little restaurant in town. Paro is very rustic with small, two story building lining the narrow streets. The restaurant was well prepared to satisfy our gluttonous appetites. I must make an effort to control myself from now on.

We then visited the watchtower of the Dzong which was converted to the National Museum in 1968. The structure is 7 floors high and every corner is filled with an unbelievable collection of artwork, tools, and weapons. The displays snaked tightly around in a spiral orientation with the floors connected by steep, narrow staircases. It was overwhelming. I found myself moving too quickly from one display case to the next for fear of not making it through to the outside before nightfall! It was also frustrated by my inability to recall facts from the various history and art classes I had the opportunity to take in college. I’ve regressed in my knowledge but was still able to enjoy being in awe at the skilled workmanship needed to create such pieces.

We took a frightening and beautiful van ride along mountain roads to Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. Our host for dinner was Mrs. Sonam Wangmo, Managing Director of the tour company responsible for us for this trip. Bhutan’s visitation is controlled and restricted to 12,000 people per year. This limitation is imposed by the government, wisely, because they recognize that their Country’s current tourism infrastructure is not capable of accommodating more at this time. Travel must be arranged through one of the government-approved traveling companies. The fees are quite high but as Passang stated, the goal is to have “low volume, but to keep standards very high”.

Sonam graciously welcomed us into here home and generously provided us with a feast of local cuisine. The rice wine was delicious but hit my sleep-deprived state pretty hard. There were so many dishes, each made even more delicious by the chili sauce. I cavalierly spread a generous amount onto a dumpling and was punished with an inextinguishable blaze in my mouth! Passang did not understate their potency at all. I was quite happy.

We finished the evening with such a rich conversation. Sonam grew up in one of the remote, nomadic villages in the eastern region of Bhutan. There were no schools in the village. Her parents were able to send her to India for boarding school. Her education then took her to London and then to Florida. She returned back to Bhutan with the aspiration and knowledge to build a life in Bhutan. After many successful entrepreneurial pursuits, she now runs this very successful travel service. Our different backgrounds made for a fascinating discussion. While we come to Bhutan after a lifetime living in a more “modern” world, Sonam came to the same place after growing up in a world that she describes as being several centuries behind. I so very much enjoyed meeting Sonam, a truly fascinating individual. I do regret that even my normal insomniatic state wouldn’t allow for the evening to last longer.

December 9, 2005 - Four Degrees Less Than Six

6 degrees of separation…I’m a believer now.

I had planned to meet Harlene in Bangkok, a very warm person who I met during a layover in Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport a few months ago. It just happened that she was going to be in Bangkok as my sister and I were going to pass through on the way to Bhutan. She wanted to introduce me to Krisda who she referred to as her “Thai Son”. Harlene had met Krisda several years ago and she has been very supportive of his education over the years. Harlene and Krisda was at the Bangkok Airport when we arrived from Chiang Mai and to our surprise, Krisda looked unusually familiar. We looked familiar to Krisda as well. It turns out that we had met each other in Cambodia about a week ago. My sister and I were just leaving a cello concert at the Children’s Hospital when a young man asked if he could share the taxi ride back into town. We had a short conversation (it wasn’t that long a ride back into town) and learn that this young man was traveling through parts of Southeast Asia. We said our goodbyes. That night, the ride was so short we didn’t have the opportunity to learn that the young man’s name was Krisda. I hope that our paths will cross again and we will have a chance to sit down for a chat.

We did visit the home of Dr. Sa-ard this evening, an extremely accomplished man and a good friend of Harlene. His business card needs an appendix. Dr. Sa-ard graciously welcomed us into his very impressive home which was as impressive as his resume. There was certainly a great deal of history collected…signs of a very distinguished career.


It was a pleasure seeing Harlene again and I very much appreciated her guidance in exploring a small corner of Bangkok.

Dinner at the Cabbage and Condom was delicious (and educational). As their brochure states…the C & C “was conceptualized in part to promote better understanding and acceptance of family planning and to generate income to support various development activities of the Population and Community Development Association”. I would agree. What better way to promote something than to pair it with good food?



I thank Harlene for the lovely conversation and sharing a bit of her extraordinary life with us. I wish her safety on her travels as she no doubt will continue to enrich the experiences of many others.

Clara, my sister’s roommate in college and long-time friend has joined us for the Bhutan-leg of this trip. It is a reunion of shorts, but with the element of new surroundings. The unions and reunions experienced on this trip may perhaps be the most important component of this adventure.

December 9, 2005 - Adventure

A wise person once said, “Adventure is where you want to be when you are sitting in a lounge chair. And, when you are in it, you’d rather be back in the lounge chair.”

We walked out of the forests of Chiang Dao yesterday after having walked up and down countless hills. I’d feel proud of myself for surviving the trek if our guide didn’t pull out a wok, ingredients for a 3 course meal, and a huge bag of cooked rice in the middle of the stroll. With some wood and dinnerware fashioned from bamboo that was lying around, Sam, with the help of the apprentice-guide, prepared the most amazing meal for us.

Along the way, we visited a few more Lisu and Karen villages where life is simple…but definitely not easy. Again, I would be proud of myself for surviving these “primitive” conditions, if our hosts didn’t live and prosper in these conditions their entire lives. I would say, the trek through the lands of the hill tribes was an amazing experience…there were lessons of humility around every turn of the trail.

When we arrived back at the Chiang Dao Nest Mini-Resort, we washed ourselves clean and crawled into warm beds, but not before an all-you-can-eat barbeque dinner prepared for us at the Nest restaurant. The food was wonderful and plentiful. The people of the Chiang Dao’s mountains showed me that one can survive adversity and live in happiness in difficult conditions. I would say that there is purity in this existence, one that I would emulate, if I was a stronger person.

December 7, 2005 - Head in the Clouds

This Lisu village that will be our home for tonight is cloaked in fog. I can’t see for more than 20 feet in any direction, but I can certainly hear all that is happening around me. There is singing in one direction, hammering from another. There are rooster calls coming from everywhere!

We bid farewell to Reni who departed for Bangkok a little while ago. Sarah, my sister, and I wandered around the village. Just as in the other village, we were met with many different reactions. The majority of the villagers were warm and welcoming. A few seemed indifferent. Some of the children were curious but cautious. We managed to make one or two cry.

Our hosts have been kind and our dinner will be available in an hour or so. We did have a chance to share a quick drink and toast with Sam, who will be our guide tomorrow. I’ve experienced many regional forms of alcohol on my recent travels, but this one had to be the most mysterious. I will leave knowing only that it was a clear liquid bathing a bottle full of mushrooms.

Our guide from yesterday said goodbye to us a little while ago. But, before the goodbyes, he took us to a lovely waterfall. The path was adventurous and I felt even more inadequate when I observed our guide negotiating the “trail” in sandals.

Our guides earlier in the day who had led us into the bowels of a limestone cave wore similar footwear. We followed them with quite a bit of faith, deep into the Earth. They had obviously made the trip several times before since the wondrous sights no longer seemed to impress them. It was only the slithering friend we happened upon that seemed to give them a little excitement. And if the guide is excited, usually the client should be scared to death.

I wait now in anticipation. Our previous guide from the last village was of very few words but provided us with glorious meals as well as rich new experiences. My eyes, ears, and stomach eagerly await tonight and tomorrow’s adventures.

December 6, 2005 - Adapting

I’m certainly glad that Sarah and Reni are such nice people because I’m sharing a grass hut with them, along with my sister. We spent the day exploring the areas around Chiang Dao, the rural mountainous region in Northern Thailand. The elephants were entertaining and the bamboo rafting was mellow. We left the relative comfort of the Chiang Dao Nest “Mini-Resort” and walked into the mountains with our Hill Tribe guide. He doesn’t speak English nor do I speak Thai, let alone the Hill Tribe dialects. Still, he prepared a wonderful dinner and the inhabitants of the village invited us to watch a Hong Kong gangster movie in their communal hut with them.

It’s 8:30 pm and hopefully the Nyquil will help ease me to sleep. Although it is peaceful up here, it’s different. And, somehow, I don’t think I will sleep as well as the two little birds napping on a stick jutting from our straw ceiling. And, I best be resting since I’m sure the dozens of roosters around the village will be calling soon enough.

December 5, 2005 - "Asia's Boutique Airline"

Cambodia is behind us (or rather, to the East of us) and Chiang Dao is ahead. In between is another period of limbo on a Bangkok Airways plane. My sister and I have been undergoing the Lonely Planet briefing. With such horrible short term memories, it’s important for us to do this right before we arrive at each destination. I think my brain is now full and all I can think right now is how much I hate sitting right next to a cuisinart.

December 5, 2005 - Voices

Children die for many reasons. That’s a reality. They do so in the United States…they die in other countries as well. But, in Cambodia, they so often die of preventable causes, some of which we have a much better control in the United States and other “modern” societies. There is so often criticism in the United States of the cost of health care. Too often, I hear of people stating that they wished they lived elsewhere because they would not have to spend so much for their treatment. But, at home, it may be expensive, but it exists. In the United States, children die much less often.

A reason why children continue to die is because they have little to no voice. This happens everywhere, including the United States. I see it often at my job. We spend much of our time pleading to insurance companies for them to cover necessary treatment and medications for our patients. But, for the most part, our patients don’t die. On the global level, children are functional mute and die too often.

We spent one evening in Siem Reap listening to a man who has devoted his life to giving Cambodian children a voice. Dr. Beat Richner (www.beatocello.com) is a pediatrician from Switzerland who has been living in Cambodia for the past 2 decades. He is responsible for the construction of 3 children’s hospitals where patients receive care without charge. And, the care provided is modern, using modern equipment. Dr. Richner is the champion of the concept that the people of a poor country do not deserve poor care.

It is difficult to change people’s hearts and minds if you don’t have their ears. And, that is why Dr. Richner uses two voices to communicate his message. Weekly, Dr. Richner performs cello pieces at the Children’s Hospital in Siem Reap. He takes the time between pieces to discuss recent developments in the hospitals, urgent issues in the local healthcare, and, of course, ask for donations of funds as well as blood. Dr. Richner also travels extensively, internationally, performing and speaking. With 10% of the operating costs of the hospitals paid for by the Swiss government and 10% supplied by the Cambodia government, the rest of the funding is dependent on donations. Hundreds or thousands of Cambodian children are fortunate to have the voices of Dr. Richner as well as his cello speaking for them.

December 5, 2005 - Strength and Innocence

Although Cambodia has sprinted in their recovery, the poverty in the country remains evident. There are primitive villages standing next to enormous hotels. Many children spend their days selling souvenirs to tourists, making much more than their parents. It has created another paradox. The children we have encountered have appeared so happy. They seem to possess such innocence in their smiles and gestures. They run and play, appearing quite carefree. At the same time, they have taken on the role of supporting their families and are often seen caring for the infant siblings. They negotiate the crowded streets of town at night without guidance or protection from a caregiver, but do so with such confidence. It is no doubt a difficult life but one in which they seem to find happiness. Sometimes I feel sadness for them…other times I envy their happiness. But, always, I feel respect for their strength.

December 5, 2005 - Time

Four days in Cambodia is just too short. This country has been rebuilding from the ground up for the past decade or so…not an easy feat, I imagine, after being ravaged by war.

We spent most of the time in Siem Reap exploring the temples. Angkor Wat is perhaps the most well-known. Hey, it’s where Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft raided some tombs. But, nestled in the jungles are dozens of temple complexes, some restored and preserved, others left to the jungle. It’s at these temples that the difference (and connection) between geologic time and human time is so evident. These temples were built about a thousand years ago and were home to generations. But, these stone structures have outlasted the civilizations that built them by hundreds of years. We visited some sites that were left to the jungle, relatively unpreserved. Trees have toppled many of the walls while others have snaked through openings, yielding to the structures. It has taken hundreds of years, but the jungles have begun to take the structures back from humankind.

It is a strange melding of the two…geologic versus human time. The stone for these structures came from the Earth but were arranged by human hands. They were left behind by Man as a whole but have outlasted those individual civilizations that built them. They were abandoned to the jungle but now have been given new life by the current Cambodian people. These temples now draw in thousands of people a year from around the World, bringing much needed resources to the Country. Angkor Wat and its neighboring temples no longer house and protect; But, rather, they bring nourishment to the people.

December 1, 2005 - Half Adventure, Half Lonely Planet

Good-byes are tough for old friends as well as newfound ones. This morning involved both. We left what was new-found familiarity for me, into a truly foreign country. Thailand was waiting.

The Marriott is very nice. It is very, very, very nice here. I feel quite out of place. This is much more than the “Courtyard” that is by Marriott and the “Courtyard” is usually the best that I can do.

So, what did we do? Hop onto the first river taxi and headed into randomness. My sister had the suggestion to get a good overview of this part of Bangkok and see some temples from the water. But Thai is a particularly hard language to follow by matching up the characters from the signs with the words in the guidebooks.

We bought tickets to ride the water taxi upstream with an unclear destination. And, at what seemed like a busy stop, we hopped off. It ended up to be Phrannock which was the right stop…we just didn’t know it yet.

One of our goals was to find dinner and the street was full of food stands and carts. The alleys of the markets were even more insane. I felt like a small leaf that was dropped into a raging river. Even worse, my sister and I were two small leaves trying to ride the rapids in the exact same direction. As we rushed by the landscape of food, I was tempted beyond description to stop a grab some satay or noodle soup. But, as my sister would say, that would result in a certain gastrointestinal “blow-out”. Our goal, therefore, was therefore to find one of the restaurants listed in the Lonely Planet guidebook. Supatra River House was not far from where we were…just a bit down the river. The catch was that you can’t walk down the river. So, after a few turns and a stroll down an alleyway, we hit…a school. But, just by turning around and going down the other way, we found the restaurant. It was truly half adventure, half Lonely Planet.

Today was just a quick taste of Thailand. Tomorrow holds another plane flight, another Lonely Planet book, and another adventure.

November 30, 2005 - Making History

We hit the pavement nice and early today with Ah-Yi and Jo-Ma. There was only one day left and they were determined for us to see as much of Taipei as possible.


We started at the Dr. Sun Yat-sen Memorial House and Gardens. The house was off-limits but there were ample gardens. The gardens were lovely; Though, the need to shape the flower collections into cartoons was a bit strange. The children seemed to enjoy them. I’m the first to admit that I am somewhat ignorant of the details of Taiwanese history. Since Dr. Sun Yat-sen has his own memorial house (and quite a large house it was), he must have made a significant contribution. I wonder how is bedside manner was?





We then headed off to the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall. Now, his memorial was humongous, which tells me that he trumps Sun Yat-sen by a mile. We only had a short time to explore but I did pick up some “facts”. Now, they say that history is always written by the victor. But, sometimes, it is even unclear how the victor was. According to the displays in the memorial, Chiang Kai-shek saved a nation and then propelled it into prosperity. I’m sure in mainland Chinese history books the story is a little different. I’m sure the portrayal is more along the lines of some pesky guy who pissed off Mao, got run over, and ran off to hide on some island called Formosa. I’ve got to read a little bit more before I’m sure what to believe. But first, I’ve got to decide who’s books to read. Hummm…










What was very neat to see was an enormous painting of Chiang Kai-shek and Sun Yat-sen. It was skillfully executed. According to my family, the painting was done by an artist who was very close to my grandfather and a good friend of my parents. I’ve met him before and some of his paintings decorate the walls of my parents’ home. The man is very soft-spoken and lives a simple life. His work sits so prominently in the national moment; Yet, the work is not attributed to anyone.



Lunch was a treat. No surprise there. We had beef noodle soup in another restaurant. It was very crowded and sat in a dirty alley. But, amongst commonly-dressed individuals (that included us), there were business-people wearing suits and carrying briefcases. That’s what I love about Taiwan. People know good food and they don’t let their life-stations to get in the way of it.

We headed back early in order to spend more time with Grandma. This was a wonderful choice because I witnessed an incredible phenomenon. Grandma has always been so quiet about the past. I know life has been difficult, in ways that I will never understand. I only know that they had so little, but built so much. Most of all, there was a loving and devoted family. Somehow a few photo albums came out and I saw Grandma open up just a little bit. Between three generations…Grandma, Ah-Yi, and my sister…there was sharing. Grandma showed a little pride…something I so rarely witness in her. The pride was in several generations of family. There was also love for Grandpa who we all lost several years back.





Because of the physical distance and language gap, I’ve always felt distance between my family in Taiwan and myself. I certainly feel a closer connection now. I used to know and love them through knowing and loving my parents. I now have a more direct appreciation for my family as well as more shame for staying so far for so long.

November 29, 2005 - Sightseeing 101

We saw a different side of Taipei today. Our uncle (Dah Jo-Jo aka Oldest uncle) took the day off to shuttle us around today. Our aunts (Jo-Ma aka wife of uncle and Ah-Yi aka mother’s sister) were our other guides.

The day started with a stop at a war veterans’ memorial. We arrived just at the changing of the guards which was outstanding. When we got there, it started becoming obvious what a kind gesture our relatives were making. Uncle was not going to be joining us at the sites. Parking at most of these areas is just horrendous and his plan was to stay with the car while we enjoyed the sites.




We then headed off to the National Palace Museum. Most of the museum is closed due to renovations which left only a large instead of a humongous collection on display. Everything looked somewhat familiar. I had taken oriental art history at college where I spent hours and hours studying and memorizing facts, names, and dates. Now, I couldn’t put a sentence together beyond “nice vase”. Guess there’s another Princeton education gone to waste. Oh well…it was a “nice vase”. As soon as I had entered the museum, I was kindly informed that I could not take photos. I felt like I had lost one of my eyes but I guess like I’ve said before (but only a few times), “I’ve got to put down the camera sometime”.

Outside of the museum, I was allowed to turn my camera back on. Which was a good thing since the garden next door was beautiful. It is place where many school children take field trips. Ahh, the field trip. What a wonderful creation. A special day away from our banal existence in the classroom. It was always a great time as long as you remembered your permission slip and souvenir money. These kids at least remembered their money for fish food and the fish appreciated it.





My uncle turned the car away from civilization and we headed for the mountains. Who would have thought that Taiwan could be cold. It certainly was chilly which made us hike that much faster. We made a few stops including this very strange “Milk Lake”. The source of its albino nature is apparently large mineral deposits but we couldn’t get close enough to confirm that. Minerals play an important roll up there which we were going to discover later on.





A quick stroll through Yangming Park was our next step. I was disappointed to learn that this place was not named after a famous basketball player. Yup, there was no Yao Ming there. Stupid me. But, what do I know about American Basketball and Asian culture. There was a very large clock with a face composed of different flowers. My sister reminded me that we had our photo taken here when we were very, very young. And for some strange reason, I remember that.


So, why are minerals so important? Well, the Taiwanese take there relaxing very seriously. Perhaps, it is because they usually work so very hard, when it is time to relax, one has to do it right. An indication of this is the existence of a museum dedicated to the history of hot springs. Apparently, soaking in these warm natural mineral baths is quite popular. With the efficient train system, one can get to these hot springs quite easily. From what I could decipher from the museum, the springs in this particular area were developed by the Japanese. I guess foreign occupation doesn’t have to be ALL bad.


It was entertaining to take a walk down to one of the boiling sulfur pools. I was equally entertained by the sign that stated that cooking eggs in the pool was forbidden.


Just as the hot springs are supposed to be good for the health, apparently so is stretching your calf muscles. There was this man selling these backward shoes right by the baths. They looked like wooden sandals with the high heal on the wrong side. According to the man, the position should improve your posture and energy flow to make the wearer more beautiful. Well, sign me up if it will make me taller.



Tomorrow, the plan is to hang with Jo-Ma (aka wife of our second-oldest uncle). The itinerary is still a mystery but I’m sure it certainly won’t be dull.

November 28, 2005 - The way to one's heart...

Food, food everywhere! My sister and I started the day with a quick walk to the street below where the food vendors with their carts awaited hungry passer-bys. Little did I know that this would be the start of another eating extravaganza. Grandma always managed to get just a little more than we were capable of eating. After a short rest, we were off again.

Our aunt joined us for a train ride out to Tamshui. On the way out, we stopped a the Tamshui River Mangrove Nature Reserve. It was a strange juxtaposition of nature and civilization with beautiful Mangrove swampland sitting beneath tall buildings. There were fiddler crabs and funny land-walking fish abound. It was a lovely place to stroll.

Tamshui is a town right on the coast. It was quite beautiful there with many people, old and young, enjoying the warm day. The town had a Jersey Shore boardwalk feel at places. There were arcades with games of skill (and chance) as well as endless food stands. We managed to stay away from eating more, but not for long.

On the way back, we all stopped at a market. We ducked into a back-alley area where there was quite lively. Amongst fish stands and tiny shops, we found a bah-wan stand. A man stood in front of a huge vat of boiling oil where he was preparing these treats. There was no way that this man’s establishment would have passed inspection in the States, which would be a shame since it was damn yummy! The food didn’t end there. We had more stops along the way for us to prove that there is always a little bit more room for good food.

After returning home, Grandma stayed to take care of some chores and to rest while my sister and I took off to explore more of the City. It was surprising to hear my sister’s name called on the streets of Taipei. It was one of our aunts who then volunteered to take us to another market, which, of course, resulted in more eating.

Jetlag has set in big time and the best my sister and I have been able to do is to stay awake ‘til 8 pm. That’s about when my uncle called to see if we wanted to take a night tour of Taipei. So, we were off and running again. A few landmarks and closed temples later, we arrived at the famous “Snake Alley”. My sister visited this place a while back and she referred to it as the ‘seedy underbelly of Taipei”. But, in the last few years, it has gotten too famous. And, again, my sister dubbed it now “Giullianni’d”. It has lost most of its darkness and is now called the Huahsi Street Tourist Night Market. Prostitution has been replaced by a few sex toy shops and foot massage parlors and the snake blood-drinking establishments have become ice cream shops. They did try to maintain some of the allure with a woman stationed in front of the ice cream shop armed with a large snake. But, it didn’t look like there was snake on the menu. Perhaps the more seedy scene has moved to another alley, yet to be discovered by the hordes of tourists.


We did make it to 11 pm, a much more appropriate time for sleep.

November 27, 2005 - Memory

Memories are strange things. Sometimes they are plain as day, vivid, and fully saturated with color. Other times, they are but a hint, a feeling of familiarity. Coming back to Grandma’s house more of the latter. It has been over 27 years since I’ve been here and many things have changed. My grandparents used to live on floors 2 and 3 of this building with the first floor rented out to a store owner. Since Grandpa’s passing, Grandma hasn’t need as much space and has moved to just the third floor. Now, a store-owner has reached majority in his occupation of this building. Much of the third floor is the same except for some newer appliances and tiling. And, there are no more chickens living on the roof.



My memory was helped along by some old photo albums that my uncle pulled out. The photos were yellowed and somewhat faded…not unlike my own memories. They did tell many stories that I was too young at the time to remember…and some that unfolded before I was born. Again, the photos of my parents were familiar with Dad looking more like me, currently, than his wiser appearance now. There were the photos of Dad as he was at the airport, getting ready to leave his entire family to start his medical internship in the U.S. And, the photos of Dad a year later as he was reunited with his wife and children. These were the times that Mom and Dad never mentioned, because they involved much personal sacrifice on their parts. And their own sacrifices are things that they never mentioned.

Lunch was a pleasure. It was a bit of a reunion with a few uncles, aunts, and cousins. The cousins were familiar only because they looked like my uncles.

We went to Taipei 101 which was NOT familiar. It is now the tallest building in the World, I’m sure to be eclipsed by another engineering marvel somewhere else. I don’t think it is particularly attractive, looking like a stack of Chinese take-out boxes but I can’t deny this incredible architectural achievement. Aunt and Uncle took us up to the observation deck where we could get a 360 degree view of Taipei. It was an impressive view but was a little less rewarding considering the ease of taking the elevator for 33 seconds to get to that elevation. It usually takes us all day of climbing in a team of 2 or 3 to get to the same elevation on a rock face. Then again, not everything is climbing. I tend to forget that.


Sometimes, the simple things are the most rewarding. Taipei 101 did provide me with much joy when I noticed Page One, a very large book store chain, in the building. My aunt, uncle and sister helped me to find a Chinese translation of the Little Prince. It is a story that is close to my heart and finding translations has become an important part of my travels.

With much jet lag, it was difficult to stay conscious much later than 8 pm yesterday. So, bedtime came early and lasted long through the night. There was one point in the night that really emphasized a major theme in my parents’ lives and it became so clear that this theme is part of their upbringings. At about 2 am, I had a tickle in my throat and had to cough several times. I tried my best to conceal it because I knew what would happen. I was quite unsuccessful and before I knew it, Grandma had gotten out of bed with one of her blankets in hand. She was afraid that I was getting sick and came out to shelter me from the cold. There was no doubt she was sleeping with her door open to facilitate sensing any needs that my sister or I had. It was quite amazing and clearly illustrated this life goal of my parents and grandparents…“to be constantly attentive while remaining invisible yourself”.

November 26, 2005 - 15 Hours and Counting

My sister and I left Newark Liberty Airport at almost midnight and after one stop in Seattle, we started the last, very long leg to Taiwan.

It’s been a while since I’ve flown on a non-U.S.-based airline. And, for the most part, the differences on EVA Air have been welcomed. The flight attendants are tri-lingual, giving me a fighting chance at understanding them. It is always interesting to see which language they start with first when they address me. There must be something that tips them off because more times than not, they start with English, even though they’ve addressed others in Mandarin or Taiwanese first. Perhaps my inability to speak my native tongue proficiently is so obvious that I don’t even have to open my mouth.

The other pleasant differences are the meal choices. I had a nice beef and rice for dinner. The rice was sticky and the beef had a hint of curry. For breakfast, the choices were omelet vs. congee. Of course, I had the congee which was quite refreshing.

Even though this fight has been quite long (I’ve peed at least 10 times), I have to say I am in some ways in apprehensive about arriving in Taiwan. It has been almost thirty years since I have been back to Taiwan, despite most of my family still being there. I have trouble even identifying the exact number of aunts and uncles I have. I’m sure I will be able to recognize the uncles. They should all look familiar…like the one uncle I have in the U.S. But, that’s a lame way to relate to family.

Embarrassment is perhaps what I fear the most right now. I’m sure everyone will be polite and reassure me that I’m still part of the family. I’m sure my relatives will expend much energy to feed me and make me feel at home. I’m sure a few will speak to me in English instead of my “native” tongue. And, I’m sure that I will continue to feel bad.

In my heart, I am looking forward to seeing them. I miss Grandma, especially, even though during her visits to the U.S., we tend to just sit and smile at each other. But, those smiles, I believe, communicate the most important things.

November 20, 2005 - Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Whine, whine, whine. On the plane, wine costs five dollars but there is plenty of whine for free.

I was sandwiched between two people who made the flight back to Newark quite colorful. The woman to the right, I believe, is kind and polite deep down; But, it only takes a little stress to push some people over the edge. She was popping Valium and telling her husband that she couldn’t “take another vacation for a while”. The slightest sound was setting her off (that baby 20 rows back was hardly audible from where we were sitting…but, maybe my ears were clogged with sea water). She shifted around constantly to find a comfortable position which I’m sure was challenging give the incompatible fit of her to the chair. Then, when the customs forms were passed out, I was afraid she would stroke out right there. She was apologetic now and then and I felt quite bad for her suffering.

Now, as for the man to my left, I wish I could have inflicted some suffering on him. He started the trip by flagging down every flight attendant (who were quite patient and polite) to insist that they do something about the air. I’ve sat on tarmacs for long periods of time to recognize the pattern (perhaps a design flaw) that planes don’t get cool until you put them into the air (especially in the Caribbean). But, he still dubbed the plane a “piece of s__t”! Then, as we hit some turbulence (not unexpected given that there was a tropical depression that we were flying by), he insisted on stating at the top of his lungs (“top of his lungs” is his only volume setting, apparently), “Ladies and gentleman, please put on your parachutes and proceed to the nearest exit”. Needless to say, this did not go over well with the high-strung woman to my right. He had to finish off the flight declaring that he was “sick of that f___kn’ Wille Wonka”. There has to be something to be said for a man who wears sunglasses in a dark plane, at night. Should have known.

The previous days, in contrast, were filled with beautiful sights at the dive sites. We were on safari looking for sea horses in the dark of night. Diving at night gives one an incredible sensation…or lack of it. Your sight is limited to that which your flashlight strikes and the rest is made up by your imagination. Navigation skills and one lone beacon was our only way back. We were surprised by reef squid and needlefish as well as box lobsters…but no horses. It was looking like a week of searching was going to yield no seahorses.

On our last day of diving, we hopped on two dive boats. The shore diving is so accessible on Bonaire that it seems silly to pay for a spot on a boat. But, it was a great idea for one reason. The crew knew the island and knew it well. We needed only to ask for something special and the divemaster took us straight to a feeding frogfish (Munk’s Haven).

On the next dive, we hit another site (Pietre’s Pillar) and hiding there was one lone sea horse! Perhaps it was cheating to ask, perhaps not. We worked really hard all week searching in the stormy surge and at night. There was fun in the “hunt”, but sometimes it is better to “ask for directions” when time runs short.



One should not dive too close to flying. It has to do with the compressed gas that has been absorbed by your tissues and the lower than sea level pressure of plane cabins. Bubbles expand in that situation and not where you want them. So, we did no afternoon dives the day before we left the island. That gave us a bit of time to explore some of the island which is quite an amazing place. We followed Hank, a cave guide, deep into his domain…2 of the 200+ caves that he has explored on Bonaire. The limestone caves were filled with gorgeous stalactites as well as casts on coral made from the sediment covering the ancient sea floors. We had a chance to snorkel through some underground lakes and swim through what Hank had dubbed “spookey” passages. Hank kept it conservative and safe, though, considering the high water levels from the week’s constant rain. What made the experience so rewarding was listening to Hank’s enthusiastic and very well-informed explanations.

I’m back in the comfort of my own bed right now. It took a rushed shuttle bus ride to the airport, 2 planes, a monorail (that was doing double duty since the other track was shut down by the wise sages of Newark Airport), a hotel shuttle van, and then Matt’s car…but we made it, luggage and all.

Slowly, it is beginning to feel like my bed again. I almost welcome the emerging familiarity of it. Five days lie between me and the next adventure and there are a stack of bills and administrative duties (not to mention one shift at the hospital). But, hopefully this will be a time to reconnect with some friends and family. I also look forward to processing the fruits of this last effort…hundreds of photos.

And, of course, I have a special thank you for Matt and Sharon for putting together this opportunity to find, yet, a deeper appreciation for submersed world. A little corner is a little less unknown to me now.