Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

Hee hee... This guy is pretty funny. (yes, my mind is on vacation now).

E-ticket - check
Luggage - check
Passport - double check
Notes to flatmates - check
Puzzle - incomplete & on the floor for flatmates to finish
Clean underwear - check

I'm flying out.

Just as I thought ho-hum, this is a nice and easy day, I saw this. It's been brought to my attention in passing conversations, but I am now extremely nostalgic/jealous. Devrim was never there for those junk boat trips when I was there, and now he's praising HK up the whazoo. P&P Production (and now I guess Ben is in on it too?) have surprised us all with their 9 junks with even a traveling DJ on one whole boat.

I know that things won't be the same when (yes, I said 'when') I go back. But endless nights in LKF, dancing on the rooftop, flying on a banana boat, and being surrounded by lively internationals can all be done in good company.

Wish I was there...

And that's just what they'll do



I haggled for them at the Repulse Bay market in Hong Kong.
They paced up to Zhaoqing in South China, only to be discarded at the end of the day for a foot massage.
They witnessed the tsunami-ridden shores of Phuket, Thailand.
They were relaxing when I took a business trip to Manila.
They were immersed in red clay and the pouring rain in the rice paddy hills of Northwest Vietnam.
They somehow made the walk in the scorching sun in Singapore bareable.
They sweated it out through the jungles of Taman Negara in Malaysia.
They helped me find my way carefully down the steep valley in Shikoku, Japan.
They saw the California sunshine.
They jogged through the Pennsylvania summer.
They were frostbitten by snow in Vermont.
And then travelled to England for leisurely strolls in the park.
They danced an Irish jig with hundreds of others in the Dublin streets.
They walked up the Acropolis and saw Athens from above.
They felt the cobblestones of Tallin's old town.
They hopped from one Budapest transit to another.
They stepped on the soft, rich soil of the farm house in Wicklow, Ireland.
They shopped around in the streets of Hamburg.

It is time to say good bye, my friend. You have taken me to so many places, and you were my sole companion who has seen as much as I have. May you rest in peace.

I have found a real "home" in Ireland. There is a feeling of comfort, Guiness glugging down your pipes, and shoulder-rubbing camaraderie when I go to Ireland.

This time, I couldn't wait to see the "real Ireland," because apparently, I missed it the last time I was in Dublin in the frenzy of St. Patties Day.


The Lane. It's not too hard to imagine Leprechauns leaping out in this magical place.

And who better to show me the "real Ireland" than Steph? I visited Steph's family in Wicklow, where they have a farm house by the beach.

Having tea, hot chocolate and scone with sweet Laura and Steph. I taught her origami all weekend. Da house (to the right)

When we approached the house, Daddy opened the door and welcomed us in. Followed by Laura, the dogs, Mummy, Steph's twin brother, and the wonderful smell of rhubarb tart in the oven. It was lovely. A perfect photograph shot of a "family." The entire weekend was a gastronomical indulgence - plump roasted chicken, new potatoes that smell of the soil and melt in your mouth, sweet garden vegetables, countless baked goods, and...


The world's best apple pie. Mummy's apple pie straight from the oven with rich, milky vanilla ice cream on top. I died and went to heaven with the first bite!

Funny, but I had a 50/50 chance of understanding what was being said. The thick Irish accent was lovely to listen to, but I sometimes didn't know if I was the one being spoken to!

Despite the fact that most of Steph's friends and family were out of town that weekend, it felt like I met a whole lot of people. We left the farm house to head into town for tea, and then visited Gran and her son. She is a fine woman, who looks not a day older than 60. What I find fascinating about Irish people is that they can passionately discuss hours on end about local and national politics and famous figures with anybody and everybody. It is a delight to hear how Senator Mc-somethings and something-oughs have sons who are comedians in the streets. It's distinctly Irish, I believe.

One evening, we went to see a Shakespearean play called "The Merry Wives of Windsor." I forget how funny Shakespearean comedies can be at times. Its basic synopsis is about a greedy man who wants to seduce two wives of wealthy lords in order to get access to their husabands' riches. The wives, however, are clever and punish the trixter in the most embarrassing ways. It goes to show that women are quite cunning and can be cruel when it comes to sneaky men!


On the beach.


Jump! Ben loves to fetch rocks.

I loved every bit of that weekend. Nothing was strenuous. We passed the days as it came. There were new ducklings and a 10-day old calf. Black cats and chickens. Cows in the distance and dogs to scare away the foxes. The fields were green and the breeze grazed our cheeks with ease. A half-mile excursion down the gravel road took us to the gentle blue-green sea.

My heart and mind felt lighter, as if it was washed with the gales and waves of the countryside, and then line dried under the yellow sun.

Unlike my other trips, Budapest was a trip out on a total whim. I felt the urge to travel East, and blindly did an 'eenie-meenie-miney-moe' on the world map. Matt happened to be on a whirl-wind Central/Eastern Europe backpacking tour (he was roughin' it in the camping grounds of Croatia, almost catching pneumonia - but hey, that's his story to tell). We had never met, but randezvouing with this intriguing international man of mystery seemed like another good reason to venture to Budapest.


Can you smell the paprika? Can you hear the buzz of the locals buying fresh produce? The Market Hall is a happening place on almost any mid-afternoon. My only regret is not getting a necklace of those beautiful, ruby-red paprikas on a string.


Inez, a friend of Gitti, is one of the sweetest people I know. She lives on the Buda side and showed me around Budapest when I first arrived. Matt (to the right) - although this is a photo of him leaving Budapest, it is one I will always remember him by. An adventure-traveler rushing himself onto a train to Warsaw. He was my accomplice in the misadventures in Budapest.


Public transit in Budapest is easy to understand... only if there weren't so many constructions in the city. A combination of metro, tram, and bus can get you almost anywhere. I really liked it. (And on occasion, you get to see the local old men cursing and jousting with one another with umbrellas).

But another transportation device that Inez mentioned was the "Children's Train." It still runs today, and the unique thing about it is that it is completely run by children (sans the driver, of course). During the socialist times, a certain group of children had the privilage of running the train. Conductors, ticket collectors, etc. are all children. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see it running.


Heroes' Square. Matt said it reminded him of Tiannanmen Square. It's a magnificent open space at the end of Andrasse Street. Here, Drake's friend, Gabor, was nice enough to take us through a history of Hungary through its founders (the 7 Magyar tribes) and kings. Then he proceeded to confuse me with the territory blobbing and battles between Hungarians and Turks/Tartars/ Habsburgs/Romanians/Soviets. I dare not speak too deeply about Hungarian history, because it is convoluted and way beyond my comprehension.


A handsome and vigorous statue at the Heroes' Square.


Me & Gabor - an amazing guide of Budapest. Haha - he's so tall that I had to stand up on the railing to see eye to eye with him.


The Parliament is one of the most beautiful architecture in Budapest. I think it reminds me of a really elaborate wedding cake. Sigh. I could stare at it for hours.


Gabor is very knowledgeable. He will tell you about the nooks & crannies of Budapest, like this statue of a horse that people (often students before an exam) rub at a certain anatomical part for good luck. All I can say that they were really shiny. And thanks to Gabor, Matt and I will never forget that the liberty statue looks like a beer bottle opener from a distance (especially after a night out with your buddies).


Watching the Buda Castle light up in the evening was wonderful. I walked along the chain bridge (the bridge was blocked off that evening with jazz, food stands, and people enjoying the summer evening!) and climbed up the hill in the early summer twilight. At nine o'clock, the grey and pallid walls of the castle slowly come to life with the warm, orange illumination.


Matthius Church in the evening glow.


The New National Theater is probably my favorite modern building in Budapest. Although it is a contrast to the ostentatious architecture of the old, it is by no means a losing contest with its unique statues in the garden and imaginative themes. In the front, there is an open bench area that is designed like a boat (and overlooks a small pond). In the back, there is a Tower of Babel, and if you climb it, you will be able to see the maze made of hedges below. I have not seen such a fun & uniquely themed theater.

COWS, COWS, COWS!!!


And let us not forget the strange things that happen when you have painted cows, a bunch of crazy internationals, and lots of Hungarian wine. Budapest is one of those cities that adopted the "painted cow" concepts - they are everywhere. Above are some of my favorites.

Hanging out with Aiesec trainees was a real treat. Ousted by the police (to be fair, we were playing really loud accordion music), we spilled out to the streets at night, only to end up in a shady, Soviet-looking bar.

'I'm on TV!' I don't know where this guy came from, but him and his friends were 'chirping' like penguins all night. (to the right) Ines and Inez - Croatia meets Hungary.

In the taxi to the airport, I thought, "I made it through the weekend." A trip that is so haphazard is not always easy, but it was a great opportunity to meet new people and see something new. Can't thank Inez, Gabor, Ines, and Agata enough for being such great hosts. I'm in total agreement with Matt about the way some people can make your experience in a country so amazing.

I am too tired and there is a terrible constipation of tales that need to be written.

So instead, I am going to copy and paste an excerpt of a book I'm (still) reading - In Xanadu. On page 163, William Dalrymple is speaking to an Iranian surgeon, Nazir, who works in Pakistan.

'... Sometimes I wonder if God has forgotten me.'
'It can't be as bad as that.'
'It is. Maybe it is worse. I have a little surgery in the desert south of Quetta. The people are Baluchis and always they kill each other. Always they are giving grenades to each other's houses. To be a surgeon in the desert south of Quetta is a terrible thing. For me they are dark days.'
'Well, why don't you stay in Iran?'
'Iran is worse than Pakistan. In Iran I was sent to the front and made to - how do you say - amplify?'
'Amputate?'
'Yes, I was made to amputate. They say to me - "Nazir you must take this finger, or Nazir you must remove noise. So all day I am cutting noises and always there are more noises to cut. And all the time the guns are going BAM BAM BAM, and my scalpel trembles. I would perfer to die alone without wife and without issue in Pakistan than to stay at front. But either way my life it is lived in shadow.'

Nazir poured out his heart until well after noon. He was like a character escaped from a terrible nineteenth-century German novel: the sort of manic who totters from disaster to disaster through books one, two, three and four, only to commit suicide on page nine hundred and eighty-seven.

Dalrymple's writing can give insight into a dramatic situation one minute, but paint it over with such satirical humour in the next that it saves the reader from depression while leaving an unforgettable nonfiction lingering in your mind.

My European travel reached a new height - quite literally - when I visited Estonia, the highest latitude I had dared to go (for now). And it couldn't have been more opportune - Kristina was making her pilgrimage for the Mid Summer Festival, which is a traditional pagan holiday that celebrates the longest day of the year in Estonia by staying outside, BBQ-ing, drinking, popping in-and-out of saunas, and lighting a bonfire. Perfect!

Being a completely ignorant tourist, I was under the grace of Kristina and her wonderful family and friends for an awesome weekend.


Ready for the canoe trip.


We looked pretty good in the photo. Actually getting through the 2.5 hour downstream paddling? Not so suave. We tippy-canoed twice. The camera miraculously survived (thanks to Kristina's reflexes and tree-hanging abilities!). We encountered downpours, limbo-worthy trees, curtains of spider webs, dead animals, and shallow water (we had an interesting time rocking the canoe over logs). Our hairs were frizzed and we looked rather tattered (given our swim in the river) by the end of the journey.

But there's nothing a little bit of cognac and sauna can't cure! We were high in spirits again, enjoying each other's company. There were many Russians and other Estonians, which was a bonus for me. I was either a "Japanese vodka" or something that sounded like the Estonian beer (Saku).


They weren't kidding when they said that there would be a big bonfire.


The sauna culture is very Estonian. You have to stay in 90-degrees steam for as long as you can Then pour water on baking stones again to raise the temperature. Pop outside (it's a norm to jump into ponds like this). Repeat. Oh, and don't forget to wet your pipes with some beer or water in between (with moderation)!


Mmm... meat... In Estonia, only beef, pork, and lamb are considered "meat." Chicken is strictly "poultry." Most East and Central European nations take their meat eating very seriously.


Beautiful sunset. The way a relaxing weekend in the country side ought to be.


And the bonfire is lit! We started the fire at midnight.


You can make anything out of marzipan. Even rotissery chicken.


Lithuanian hot chocolate - it's fun to play with too! We drank some melted hot chocolate - that's literally what it was. I can feel my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth just thinking about it.


Menu from Olde Hansa:

Reval's Plate for Tasting - Juniper flavoured beef, orange tongue jelly, French royal poultry liver pate, Onion jam, quail eggs, herb bread with nuts. We glugged it down with some spiced red wine. Yum! :) I'm betting my Estonian kroones that people in the medival ages didn't eat this well.


Baa Nimeta (The Pub With No Name). Funny enough, there was a 'Pub With a Name' right across the street. Since I was with a beautiful Estonian girl, I was fending off British and Australian blokes on stag parties. We danced to the tunes of Euro beats till 4am.


And after a night out in the town, we went for a healthy tour of the country side - well, it seemed like traveling around all of Estonia by going to an open air museum! Kristina's family and I visited various houses of different groups living in the country side.


This lady was excited to see a Japanese tourist - so she busted out her organ skills for us. When she recognized that I was Japanese, she enthusiastically pointed at her watch, "Seiko!" and then proceeded to tell us that she lived in Japan briefly.


Kristina demonstrates the proper way to 'do sauna.'


We felt like giddy children, rushing to the big swings.


Kristina and her family. Kristina's mother is Russian and her father is Estonian (from Hiiumaa Island). It just goes to show that the Soviet experience has brought the two cultures in such a way that it is inseparable today. Personally, I think it is ridiculous how some Estonian schools are trying to discourage learning Russian. The language is completely different, since Estonian derives from Finno-Ugric roots (it's much closer to Hungarian and Finnish). Perceptions of the Soviet experience will most likely provoke grunts, but many of the Russians who migrated to Estonia seem to have integrated and made Estonia their home.

I couldn't have asked for a better experience in getting to know Estonia. Kristina's father, Vigor, took us everywhere and told us some interesting tales, such as the story of why oak tree leaves are shaped the way they are. (According to legend, the devil made a bet with god about eradicating humanity. God accepted the challenge and said that the devil could do as he pleased when all the trees lost their leaves - but the oak tree (which uniquely remains intact during the winter in Estonia) did not lose its leaves. So the devil furiously tore at the leaves, trying to rip them off - but things apparently did not go his way and oak trees have their unique shapes today).

I really enjoy the Nordic mythologies in Estonia. It makes the place a little more magical and less pedagogic (there are beautiful Russian Orthodox and Christian churches in Tallinn, but I highly doubt that there are many religious Estonians). I also could not have asked for a better guide. Kristina is well-versed in the history of Tallinn and Estonia, and she told me interesting stories as we walked through town.

One story that sticks to my mind is the Rumplestiltskin-like tale of Olaf, the architect of 'Olaf's Church'. A man agreed to build the town's church under the condition that they pay him a sack of gold - and he also said that he would build it for free if the townspeople could guess his name before completion. As the finishing day neared, the townsmen greedily sought for a solution. In the forest, they heard a mother tell her son, "Child, we will soon be rich when your father, Olaf, brings back money from building the church!" Elated, the townspeople crowded at the church and yelled to the man, "Hey Olaf! The cross on the tower is a little crooked!" Infuriated by the last-minute revelation, Olaf fell off the tower to his death, where a frog hopped out from his body. There is an engraving of Olaf's skeleton at the bottom of the church.

Bitten by mozzis and a bit of the adventure travel bug, I really enjoyed my Estonian chapter :)