The Legacy Cycle

2012: The Astor House and Dark Legacy: Book II - Travels

2012-01-18T02:41:00.000-08:00

Sir Vernon Kell Portrait by Wayne Haag

It has been exactly one year since the launch of my first sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity. And I am very proud to announce that the book has joined the 21st century by being available as an eBook for the Amazon Kindle, the Barnes & Noble NOOK, the iPad, iPhone, and iPod, as well as for most other eReaders.

You can click the following links to get the eBook version of Dark Legacy (sample the beginning of the book on Amazon for free):

Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity (Lulu) $2.95

Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity (Amazon Kindle) $2.99

Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity (iBookstore) $1.99
Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity (Barnes&Noble NOOK) $1.99

During the past twelve months I have been promoting the book through all available internet avenues such as Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads.com, YouTube, and to a certain extent LinkedIn. There is still more virtual terrain to cover such as Smashwords.com and more traditional means of getting exposure through bookstore events and speaking to literature students in high schools to encourage them to also self-publish. But 2012 is the year that I need to take a break from aggressively promoting the book via the web and sit down and focus on the craft of writing. There are four literary works that I hope to hammer out over the course of this year: one is a short-story, two are novels, and one is a travel memoir.

The working title for the science fiction short story I have been kicking around for the past couple of months is Rise of the White Lion. Peter Saga of Science Fiction Freedom E'Zine was trying to put together a science fiction superhero issue back in the autumn of last year. He asked me if I could come up with something with the condition that it be based in the city where I am currently living in (Barcelona). I found the request a difficult challenge as my initial ideas were typical and easily rejected by my wife. Finally, I settled on a concept that I was content with revolving around GP Motorcycle racing, the myth of Saint George, projecting the future outcomes of the current economic crisis on the EU, aspects of Gaudí architecture, Japanese robot technology, corporate espionage, and the rise of China as a significant 21st century superpower. This is all I will say for now. I am hoping to have a final draft of the short story completed by the first week of February after which I will pass the story along to the amazingly talented concept artist, Wayne Haag, who provided the beautiful artwork for my steampunk short story, The Astor House of Old Shanghai.

After writing The Astor House of Old Shanghai as a short story and getting a lot of positive feedback and encouragement from Wayne Haag, my wife, and readers of Science Fiction Freedom E'Zine I have decided to expand the short story into a full length steampunk novel. As a result I have been reading as much as I can on the art and history of espionage, Chinese history, the Boxer Rebellion, the Spanish-American War, and the history of Shanghai during the Victorian period. I am very excited by the evolving storyline of the characters, Nicholas Winter and Sir Vernon George Waldegrave Kell (founder of MI5). A lot of the ideas, values, and concepts I have for The Astor House will in some way also feed into Dark Legacy: Book II - Travels. The storyline for Dark Legacy: Book II is still coming together in my mind and reading up on the Boxer Rebellion, Chinese history, etc. for The Astor House is helping me solidify the details and direction of Dark Legacy: Book II. I plan to finish up the first act of Dark Legacy by the summer of 2012 while working in tandem on The Astor House.

Last, but not least, is a travel memoir that I would like to publish by the end of 2012. The writing is done and it is all up on this blog (go back to entries from 2004), but I need to edit it and format it for publication. The memoir is from my travels in the late winter, spring, and summer of 2004 in Southeast Asia, East Asia, Siberia, Scandinavia, and Eastern and Western Europe. If anything my hope for the memoir is for it to stand as a document for my children, and their children, and hopefully their children; to in some way speak to future members of my family and encourage them to travel far and wide into this world. The memoir also reveals how my wife and I first met at the top of a pyramid temple in the ancient ruins of Angkor Wat on the 21st of May, 2004.

Well, let it begin. Time to sit down and write.
With magic,
Domenico

Open publication - Free publishing - More adventure

The Astor House of Old Shanghai (steampunk) featured in Issue 5 of Science Fiction Freedom E'Zine

2011-09-11T07:21:00.000-07:00

Science Fiction Freedom Issue 5 Cover

A steampunk short story I wrote entitled, The Astor House of Old Shanghai, which was beautifully illustrated by Wayne Haag of The Fifth Element, The Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Rings and The Two Towers) and Superman Returns fame was featured in Issue 5 of Science Fiction Freedom E'Zine. The E'Zine is free so be sure to check it out at: http://sffezine.blogspot.com

Peter Saga, the Art Director for Science Fiction Freedom, had contacted me at the end of May (or early June if I remember correctly) through Twitter. At that time I was linking up my Twitter account with several steampunk Twitter accounts and as a result Peter discovered my book and website. He offered me the incredible opportunity to write a steampunk short story for his publication that had to be completed by the end of June. But with the month of June comes final exams and the massive amounts of grading to end the academic year at the international high school I teach at. I foolishly considered turning him down but soon decided to take on the chance to get a work published via a new medium - an E'Zine.

Since I had never worked within the realm of steampunk I was nervous as to what I could come up with, but then I remembered a small literary work I had written while I was in the internet and reading lounge of The Astor House in Shanghai back in 2004. I decided to work with what I had written and add onto it to make it fit within the genre of steampunk. At the same time I was teaching my 8th grade students about the Spanish-American War, American imperialism, and the Boxer Rebellion, which all became elements I used for the story. While I researched and began working on what would become, The Astor House of Old Shanghai, I needed a character to compliment the protagonist in the story and the character of Sir Vernon George Waldegrave Kell fell perfectly into place. The story was to take place in Shanghai in 1899 on the eve of what was to become The Boxer Rebellion. The idea of writing an espionage story provided an interesting angle and when I looked up MI5 (the British intelligence service) I was very pleased to discover that Kell was one of its founders and that he had lived in China, spoke Chinese, and fought in The Boxer Rebellion. It was perfect synchronicity. Thus from there the story took a life of its own.

I was able to finish the story about a week before deadline and then it was off to Peter at SFF. Next came the ultimate surprise. Peter soon explained to me that my story had been picked up by famed production designer, matte painter, photographer, and artist, Wayne Haag! I was completely floored. Wayne had worked not only on the films The Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Rings and The Two Towers) but on The Fifth Element. The Fifth Element was such a visually stunning and ground breaking film that to this day I still remember what I was doing the first time I saw the trailer for the film. Never had I seen anything like it and my friends and I were so excited that we counted down the days to it theatrical release. One image that I absolutely loved when I saw the film was the futuristic depiction of New York City, which you can see below.

NYC city-scape by Wayne Haag for The Fifth Element

This image of New York was so unique that I still remember it clearly fourteen years after first seeing it. What I found so interesting about this depiction of NYC was that the sea levels had fallen with the city stretching out further into what had once been covered by the ocean. This was at a time when the dangers of global warming was initially being raised and the possibility of sea levels rising. I found it "cool" that Wayne's depiction of NYC went against the grain as to what was to occur in the future and that instead of sea levels rising, they had fallen.

Kell portrait by Wayne Haag

Working with Wayne on what was to become a beautiful portrait of the character of Kell was a dream come true for a major science fiction film fan. Wayne is, in so many ways, my hero as to what he can accomplish through the medium of his art in creating futuristic and fantastic worlds, city-scapes, and landscapes. I had always wanted to gain the ability of becoming an artist in bringing to life what I could imagine, but gave it up once I took a very good look at the competition and pursued music and later writing instead. Wayne was very supportive and constantly encouraging me and has inspired me to continue work on The Astor House of Old Shanghai storyline to develop it into a full-length espionage, steampunk novel.

As a result, while I was in Chicago in August, I stocked up on as many books as I could find on the topics of espionage, The Boxer Rebellion, British imperialism, and Chinese history in the late 1800s to early 1900s. While I work on Dark Legacy: Book II - Travels I will also be working on this steampunk story.

I am incredibly grateful to Wayne Haag and Peter Saga for giving me such an unforgettable experience over the summer. I invite you to check out Wayne's website at http://www.ankaris.com and Peter Saga's amazing Science Fiction Freedom E'Zine at http://sffezine.blogspot.com

With MAGIC & INSPIRATION!

Domenico Italo Composto-Hart
http://www.thelegacycycle.com

Open publication - Free publishing - More adventure

Reflection: Book Signing and Presentation at The Book Stall in northern Chicago

2011-08-16T14:56:00.000-07:00

Busy signing books at The Book Stall in northern Chicago

The second book presentation and signing for my sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity, was held at The Book Stall in Winnetka, Illinois (a northern Chicago suburb) on Saturday, July 30th. The event was organized by my mother and sister who worked diligently in promoting the presentation to as many friends and family as possible. As a result we had around sixty people in attendance and we sold every single copy The Book Stall had in stock.

It had been two years since I was back in the United States (the longest I have ever been away from the country of my birth), and back to my home town of Wilmette. It was a great pleasure to return with my family and present my literary work in Winnetka, which is the town where I went to high school. Although I was nervous before the event, once I got started I had a lot of fun discussing the themes, history, and stories behind the book. But the best part of the presentation was the excellent range of questions I had from the audience.

Two amazing friends filmed the presentation and book signing using high definition cameras, and as a result I have already uploaded the presentation as a four part video onto the YouTube channel for The Legacy Cycle at http://www.youtube.com/thelegacycycle. Check it out and share them with all your sci-fi/fantasy reading friends!

With magic,

Domenico

http://www.thelegacycycle.com

Dark Legacy: Trinity presentation and signing at The Book Stall in Chicago's North Shore

2011-07-12T03:39:00.000-07:00

Presentation and book signing of Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity will take place at 3:00 pm on July 30th at The Book Stall at Chestnut Court in Winnetka, IL.

The Book Stall

811 Elm Street

Winnetka, Illinois, USA

Tel. (847) 446-8880

http://www.thebookstall.com/

The Book Stall at Chestnut Court is a fantastic book shop located in Chicago's North Shore that is now celebrating 75 years of independent book selling! Come and join us on the 30th of July.

With magic,

Domenico

www.thelegacycycle.com

YouTube: Dark Legacy - Trinity Book Presentation & Signing on April 1, 2011

2011-06-26T13:33:00.000-07:00

Check out the The Legacy Cycle YouTube channel at: http://www.youtube.com/user/thelegacycycle

S.J. Wist Review of Dark Legacy: Trinity also on Fantasy Cookie

2011-06-26T05:42:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note: as mentioned on my May 30th blog post a review of my sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity, by S.J. Wist is also available on her Fantasy Cookie blogspot at the link below:

http://fantasycookie.blogspot.com/2011/06/dark-legacy-book-i-trinity-by-domenico.html

S.J. Wist Review of Dark Legacy: Trinity

2011-05-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

Check out the Fantasy Book Review Blog of S.J. Wist at:
http://infinitydreamt.blogspot.com/

Last Friday I was very pleased to discover a review of my book by S.J. Wist who is a fantasy writer and reviewer that is currently adding the finishing touches to her fantasy novel, Dragon Aster.

Thursday, May 26, 2011
Review of Dark Legacy: Trinity
by Domenico Italo Composto-Hart
http://infinitydreamt.blogspot.com/2011/05/review-of-dark-legacy-trinity-by.html

Rating: 5/5

"Dark Legacy: Trinity, is a fantasy novel with a blend of science fiction that will appeal to both preferences in readers. It is a coming of age story of Kieko, son of the last Kai guardian of Atlantis. He is trained by the priest, Shinsei, as the relentless force that took Atlantis draws closer to his peaceful home of Ikishi.

The oldest mystics of the Orient against the pinnacle of human kind -- Atlantis, fused together seamlessly. When the technology of science fiction clashes with a primitive culture, sparks fly. When it collides with rich characters who are rooted deep in their spirituality, then it becomes a battle of absolute willpower against a merciless evil. Add just the right touch of vivid detail, characters and story, and you have this epic tale that is hard to put down.

Kieko, Aiko and Kira are all lovable and thoroughly entertaining to follow to where their youth takes them next. As they become adults together, their trials and tribulations grow a powerful and unbreakable bond that the reader can easily connect with and follow alongside.

Domenico Italo Composto-Hart has made a most impressive step into the fantasy and science fiction genre. This first book of the Dark Legacy series will join my shelf alongside my all-time favorites."

Review by S.J. Wist (http://infinitydreamt.blogspot.com/)

Reflection: Book Signing and Presentation at Librería Gigamesh, Barcelona

2011-05-16T12:53:00.000-07:00

Book signing at Librería Gigamesh in Barcelona, Spain.

The first book presentation and signing for my sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity, was held at Librería Gigamesh in Barcelona, Spain. The event was organized by my wife as part of a surprise birthday gift. Since launching the book my wife has been encouraging me to get out of my shell and promote it, and the event at Gigamesh was a wonderful way to begin doing so.

So much energy and time went into writing, rewriting, writing, rewriting, editing, reediting, and editing the book that once a final draft was complete, the book cover design finished, and the website (http://www.thelegacycycle.com) up and running, came the question . . . "well, now what?" I hadn't put much thought into the promotion of the book beyond what can be done via online networking sites. Promoting in the "real" world as opposed to the "virtual" world was not something I had put much thought into. Perhaps I had been avoiding the idea. To be honest I felt uncomfortable going out there to promote (essentially become a salesperson) for my art. Most artists I believe are shy about promoting (to sell) their very personal works, and my book is, in many senses, a very personal story.

But, my wife was there by my side pushing me to do what an unknown writer must ultimately do. To get out there and share with the world their art.

The event at Gigamesh was a safe and comfortable way for me to get my feet wet. Many friends, students, fellow teachers, and family were there to support me. What made the event unforgettable was seeing my father walk into the bookstore unannounced; he had flown in all the way from Chicago as a surprise. And what a fantastic surprise it was for me to see my father, to have his support, and to share this moment with him. My father is, in a word, amazing!

A friend of mine video-taped the presentation with her iPhone and so I have been fiddling with iMovie to prepare the video recording of the event on this site as well as on the other Legacy Cycle sites (Facebook, Twitter, etc.). Perhaps in a week or so I will upload the presentation . . . so stay tuned.

With magic,

Domenico

http://www.thelegacycycle.com

Janusz Migasiuk: The Genius behind The Legacy Cycle website

2011-05-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

Later this week I will write a blog describing my first book presentation and signing at Libreria Gigamesh in Barcelona, Spain, which took place on the 1st of April. In the mean time I have uploaded the promotional poster for my sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity.

Janusz Migasiuk (http://www.migistudio.com) designed this poster and built the website for The Legacy Cycle (http://www.thelegacycycle.com) as well as my personal website (http://www.thedragonbone.com).

He is the most talented and professional painter, graphic artist, and web designer I have ever met, and it is a great honor to have him as a good friend. I encourage you to take a look at his site and his talented work and to spread the word about him. On top of his amazing abilities as an artist he is also an exceptional musician (bass player & keyboardist). Overall, Janusz is a fine example of what it means to be a Renaissance man.

If you are on Facebook or Twitter you can look him up as well at:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002373294388) and (http://twitter.com/#!/OriginalArts)

All the best,

Domenico :)

Dark Legacy: Trinity presentation and signing at Librería Gigamesh

2011-03-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

Gigamesh book signing poster for
April 1, 2011

Presentation and book signing of Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity will take place at 19:00h (7 pm) on the 1st of April, 2011 at:

Librería Gigamesh

«Vicio y subcultura»

Ronda San Pedro, 53

08010 Barcelona, Spain

Tel. 932 466 359. Fax 932 327 708

http://www.gigamesh.com/libreria.html

Librería Gigamesh in Barcelona has the best, and largest, selection of science fiction, fantasy, and horror books, and graphic novels in English. For the expats in BCN that are in literary need of Neal Stephenson, Iain M. Banks, Ursula K. Le Guin, Stephen King, Robert Jordan, etc. then Librería Gigamesh is where you need to be.

Looking forward to seeing you on April 1st!

All the best,

Domenico Italo Composto-Hart

www.thelegacycycle.com

Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity Cover Design and Launch!

2011-01-20T22:04:00.000-08:00

Book cover design for Dark Legacy.

The Legacy Cycle website has launched on this day(s), January 20-21 (depending on what side of the planet you are on), 2011 for my first sci-fi/fantasy novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity! You can visit the site at: www.thelegacycycle.com and learn more about Atlantis and Lemuria.

Now that I have climbed my first literary mountain (writing and finishing my first novel), I stare at the foot of the next mountain (promoting the book), and with the launch of www.thelegacycycle.com I have taken my first step.

All the best and I hope you enjoy the book!

Sincerely,

Domenico Italo Composto-Hart

Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity & the 4Cats

2010-12-21T09:58:00.000-08:00

Celebrating the completion of my first novel at the 4Cats.

It is done. After over a decade of work, my first novel, Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity, is complete. I received my first copy on the 5th of October 2010. A couple of weeks later my wife, son, and I went to the 4Cats cafe in Barcelona, Spain. It was there that we celebrated the birth of my first serious, literary work.

Why the 4Cats? Well, on the 4th of January 2007 my MacBook, with the most up-to-date draft of my novel, was stolen at the 4Cats. I was completely devastated by the theft because I did not have a recent digital back-up of my book. Instead I had a 6 month old back-up on my Sony Viao, thus meaning that 6 months work prior to the theft was gone. This incident set back the completion of the novel. But, the past is the past, and, well, here I am nearly four years later, and the book is finished. So what a better place to celebrate than the place to which I had overcome the hardship of having lost a significant portion of my work, to then keep at my craft to finally complete what I had set out to do.

The book will be available to the public January 1st, 2011. There will be a website to promote the book, which you can check out in the early part of the new year. The site will be: www.thelegacycycle.com

And from this point forth, after a very long hiatus of not writing on this blog, I will be writing updates as the weeks and months go by regarding my book and the next book I am working on.

All the best,

Domenico Italo Composto-Hart

P.S. I have also updated my website (just cleaned it up a bit).

You can check it out at:

www.thedragonbone.com

2006-07-19T01:21:00.000-07:00

July 19th, 2006
Barcelona, Spain

As you can see I have not updated this site for nearly 2 years. I am near the end of completing the final draft for my first sci-fi/fantasy novel: Dark Legacy: Book I - Trinity. As a result I am beginning to think more and more of the story and details that will comprise Book II - Travels of the series. My journey by land (and experiences) from Tokyo, Japan through Korea, Southeast Asia, China, Mongolia, Siberia, Scandanavia, Eastern & Western Europe (as documented in this blog) will be heavily drawn upon as I begin working out the storyline and themes for Book II. So, I will be revisiting this blog site (a diary of my travels and discoveries) and perhaps I will work on it and prepare it to also be published under some format (digital or hardcopy).

This blog also marks the fact that I will begin monthly updates on my website www.thedragonbone.com which I have neglected for the past 6 months. A new PDF of the first couple chapters of my first Dark Legacy novel will be up by September of 2006.

All the Best from Barcelona, Spain,
Domenico Italo Composto
www.thedragonbone.com

The Art of Burning Out and Finding Salvation in Barcelona, Spain

2004-09-03T05:46:00.000-07:00

The Art of Burning Out and Finding Salvation in Barcelona, Spain
September 3rd, 2004

I was in Belgrade, Serbia last week and it was there that I finally realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was totally burnt out on backpack travel. As a result I decided to head to Barcelona, Spain to stay put for awhile. And so that is where I am now - in Barcelona - resting. I just moved into a room in an apartment that I am sharing with students from Italy and Argentina. I will return to the U.S. sometime in November - and don't worry, I have already put in for my absentee ballot for the election on November 2nd.

In the mean time I will be in my cocoon preparing for my return to the U.S. by working again on my first book (and mailing it out to publishing companies) and working on some music stuff that Ive been meaning to put down on paper, and teaching a student or two on drum rudiments and proper hand and foot drum-kit techniques.

Until next Time,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

P.S. As for the Salvation part of arriving in Barcelona. Well, yes . . . I have found it (salvation). To elaborate on that I will not. Some treasures are meant to be sacred and quiet . . . like an enchanted temple hidden deep within a jungle fortress :)

Quick Note from Bratislava, Slovakia

2004-08-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

August 22nd, 2004
Quick Note from Bratislava, Slovakia
I have a lot to catch up on in regards to this journal. I have been to Hamburg and Berlin, Germany as well as to Warsaw and Krakow in Poland. I am now in Bratislava, Slovakia. I have been taking a sort of break from the internet but soon I will return with stories and tales from this leg of the journey. As to where I am going, here is my itinerary:

Vienna, Austria
Budapest, Hungary
Belgrade, Yugoslavia
Transylvania and Bucharest, Romania
Sofia, Bulgaria
Skopje, Macedonia
Tirana, Albania
Sarajevo, Bosnia
Zagreb, Croatia
Ljubljana, Slovenia
Vaduz, Liechtenstein
Switzerland
Lyon and Marseille, France
Tunis, Tunisia
Sicily
Sardinia
and finally Barcelona, Spain.

It will be in Spain that this journey will end. And it will be in Barcelona where I will find home again.

With Love,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com

August 14th, 2004
Readings from The Travels of Dom e Niko: Essays, Thoughts, and Other Tales

Author's Note: Here is my first short story, as promised, for this site. I began writing it on a cloudy day in my hotel in Shanghai. The work is fiction; but the events, conversations, and ideas in the story do have a place in reality. I hope you enjoy it. I welcome any feedback: thedragonbone@hotmail.com

The Astor House of Old Shanghai

He laid the rolled silk scroll on his bed, and took a step back. The wood floor creaked. He looked down at his old beaten shoes and thought again about why he liked the Chinese painting. It was the utter loneliness. Yes, that is it.

+ + + +

It was his first time in Shanghai. It was cloudy when he arrived. Dismal and sad; his first two impressions of the city once called, the Whore of the Orient. After checking into the Astor House, and dropping his things in his lavish 5th floor room, he decided to take walk. He walked north along the Bund until Nanking street. He turned right as soon as he passed the Peace Hotel. Walking east he thought, West is home. Where I belong. It had been 4 years since he had seen his family and childhood friends.

"Excuse me, sir," a college girl began with a sweet Chinese accent, "but, we have a gallery on the 8th floor. Would you like to come and see it?"

His first tout in Shanghai. He had traveled throughout southeast Asia and had grown bitterly numb to the elaborate stories and lies he had heard day after day from touts in Hanoi, Hue, Saigon, Phenom Phenh, and countless other cities and towns. But, she was a woman: young; not forceful; unaware of her seductive powers. So much does she have to learn, he thought remembering his long-ago college days.

"It's just this way. Where are you from?"

'Where are you from?' How many times had he heard that question in the past four months? "I'm originally from Chicago."

The girl gave a quizical look.

"- In the United States."

She pleasantly nodded her head with a smile. "Where in the United States is it?"

"Well -"

"Is it near Detroit?" she interrupted.

"No! God, no. What an aweful place. No, Chicago is on the west coast of a large lake called Michigan."

The girl smiled. It was then that he noticed her pearl earrings. He immediately thought of the women he had known in Valparaiso, Chile. He could tell though that she still had very little idea where Chicago was located.

"What kind of gallery?" he asked, changing the subject.

"We have Chinese calligraphy - Do you know calligraphy?"

He nodded yes.

"And we have traditional Chinese paintings - and modern too."

He loved art. He had many friends who were artists. He did his best to encourage them. But that was now months ago. It actually feels like years ago.

"Yes, let's go," he quickly said.

She gave a wide grin and escorted him into a century-old building. She pointed to the elevator expecting him to go in first but he didn't. He waited kindly for her to go. Pleased with his small display of chivalry she walked into the elevator. He followed.

The gallery was simply a room that was neither large nor small. Scroll paintings were hanging on all the walls. Oil canvas paintings were sitting on the floor against two of the walls. There was a table in the center of the room that was convered with smaller paintings; beneath the table were stacked green boxes that he assumed were used to pack the scrolls when they were bought and rolled.

"Are you an artist?" he asked.

"Yes, I am - Well, I only do calligraphy."

"Oh, do you have some of your calligraphies here?"

"Yes, just over here."

She led him to the opposite side of a wall partition in the room. He then saw several calligraphy paintings hanging.

"Can you read any of them?" she asked.

"No, only bit and pieces. Like that kanji - I mean character. That means school, no?" he said quietly.

"To study. That's the meaning."

"School - to study. I was almost right."

"Yes, perhaps." She walked to one of her paintings and explained, "This means plum and this is tea. These two characters give a peaceful sense. This calligraphy is meant to relax. Rest the mind. Do you know what this means?" she asked pointing to a large single calligraphy that he had never seen before.

"No, I don't know what it means," he said enjoying her sweet voice and small movements.

"It means love."

"Oh," he said a bit shocked. He then thought of the Japanese character for 'great liking' which was far different in appearance than the Chinese character for love. He took a good look and said, "That means heart and that means friend."

"Yes," she said impressed that he could identify the individual characters that made up the entire character for love.

"- But, I don't know that kanji - I mean character."

"That means house or home."

He wanted to impress her by drawing the Japanese character for 'great liking' and to explain that it was composed of the Japanese characters for woman and child. He rehearsed in his mind, There is no greater, and more pure a form of love than that between a mother and her child. But he said and did nothing.

"Where did you learn to read characters?" she asked with a peachy voice.

"In Japan."

"In Japan?"

"I used to live there."

"Really?"

"Yes, and while I was there I learned a few Japanese characters."

"Chinese," she said sharply. "The Japanese stole this from us."

He had nothing to say in reply.

"Over here we have more paintings. These are more traditional," she pointed to four paintings framed on silk scrolls hanging on the wall. "Each one represents one of the four seasons: spring, summer, fall, and winter. In China we often liken the seasons to our lives. Spring is for the child; summer is youth and strength - vitality; and fall for settling down, having a family; and winter, for rest in the old age."

"Interesting."

"Yes, and here we have another four seasons, but this is more modern. The colors are more vibrant in these paintings."

"Yes, I like these very much." He took a long moment to admire the summer painting that was composed of a vibrant green color. "How much is this one?"

"The summer one? Well, it is part of a set. I can't sell you only one. For all four it is 1,500 wong."
"Oh," he said disappointed.

He then looked to a series of paintings of warriors armed with pulled bows riding on horses. "I like these. Particularly this one."

"This is by a more famous painter. They are Mongolian riders hunting."

"How much is this one?"

"300 wong."

"Oh," he said, "that isn't so bad."

"You should buy it. It's meaning is success."

He instantly thought of his father and decided that he would buy it. But before he would declare his decision he wanted to continue looking for he wanted to spend more time with the girl. Then he saw it. It was a painting that was far different to his eyes from all the others. He took a closer look and saw that the painting was of an enormous cloudy sky hovering above the tiniest tree at the edge of a straight and bare cliff. It was a sad painting. Full of loneliness. And because of that he loved it. "This is a tree?" he asked with the tone of a statement.

"No, it is of a famous Chinese poet. That crashing down above him is a waterfall - from the Yangtze river. He is walking along the edge of a sandy floor. Those tiny curved lines are birds. The poet wrote about the insignificence of himself in all the vast space of the universe. That is why he is so small and insignificant in the painting."

He was drawn to it. The story behind the painting was tragic. But, he loved it; this painting of vast nothingness. He took a few steps away from the painting to admire it some more. He then noticed that half of it was in shadow. "Can you move it? I want to see it in the light."

"Yes, she said as she quickly grabbed a pole to lift the painting and place it on a wall with more light.

He looked at the painting now in the light. The light bleached the painting. He could see that the paintings effect on him was due to it hanging in a dark place.

"Yes, I like it. I like it very much. But, it looks better in shadow, not in the light."

Although he had made up his mind to buy the painting, along with the other for his father, he wasn't prepared to leave the young girl. He quickly fished for questions to ask her and spoke:

"Are you from Shanghai?"
". . . Inner Mongolia . . ."
"When did you leave?"
". . . three years ago . . ."
"Which do you like better, Shanghai or Bejing?"
". . . Shanghai . . ."
"Do you have brothers and sisters?"
". . . one younger sister . . ."
"Which kind of paintings - or style - do you prefer?"
". . . impressionism . . ."

When he had finally left he had bought a total of three paintings. The third was for his sister and her husband. It was a traditional Chinese landscape paiting with vibrant splashes of pink for the leaves of the cherry trees. Although it should have, the painting did not remind him of Japan in the spring.

As he waited for the elevator with the girl, and took the elevator to the first floor with her, he felt the urge to ask her out for a drink when she finished work at the gallery. But, ultimately he decided against it. He knew that in the immediate end everything that attracted him to her - her sweet voice, small movements, and smile - would loose their luster and appeal, and that he would find every reason why he didn't like, or perhaps, couldn't stand her.

+ + + +

And there was the painting on his bed. He was hesitating to undo the brown ribbon knot that held the tightly rolled scroll together. He took a step toward the bed, the floorboards creaked again, and bent forward to finally untie the knot. He then held the top end of the scroll and unrolled it carefully over his bed.

There it was. The painting. And he stared at it. The darkly lit room began to fade. There was only the painting.

+ + + +

"Sir, would you like to come in and see some paper-cuttings?"

"No, no thank you," he said in the bazar of the old Chinese quarter of Shanghai.

She approached him. He was standing on the side of the street. "Where are you from?"

"From Canada," he lied. "Toronto."

"Oh, yes. I know it. We´ve had many customers from there. Would you like to come in?"

"No, no. I've already bought a few paintings today."

"But, these are traditional Chinese paper-cuttings. Very cheap. For your girlfriend - Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," he blushed.

"You should get a Shanghai girl. They are very nice. Very good for you."

He didn't reply. What does she mean I should get. Are they for sale too? he thought with a sarcastic grin.

"Why are you smiling?"

"No, nothing."

"Please, come in. Just looking. You don't have to buy anything."

"Look, I'm wasting your time. I'm not going to buy anything."

"Are you waiting for a taxi?" she asked finally noticing that he was standing in the street.

"No, I want to take a picture of this street."

"Oh, go ahead. I wait."

He looked behind to make sure no cars were approaching and then stepped quickly toward the center of the street. He turned on his digital camera, framed the street in a way he found pleasing and took a picture. The picture he had taken appeared on the small monitor of the camera. He looked at the image and, satisfied with it, turned the camera off and walked back onto the sidewalk.

"Now you can come in." She took his hand and pulled gently. He like being touched by her. He looked at her and decided to go into her shop.

"These are all handmade and uniqe. No two are alike."

He looked at the many framed paper-cut pieces. There were animals, images of Mao, as well as cute Chinese children in traditional dress. He could see the price tags on the pieces and agreed that the paintings were indeed cheap.

"Do you like this one?"

"Which one?"

"This one. I thought you were looking at this one?"

"Oh, no."

"Do you know its meaning?"

"No, I don't." Obviously he thought.

"It's my favorite one. It was made by my mother. Most of these are hers. This is her shop."

"Oh," he was now intrigued.

"It is called, 'Love is like a Bird'."

He looked at the paper-cutting and tried to understand how that meaning could be derived from it. All he saw was a young woman with flowers all around her and a white dove flying above her head.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," he lied again.

"My mother says love is always on our minds. We may try to distract ourselves to not think about it. But, in the end the thoughts of love keep coming back to us. Like a bird that we free but soon returns."

"Oh," he said. He liked the story behind the cut-out. He liked it more than the cut-out itself.

"Do you want to buy it?"

She then ruined the moment for him. He found his slight attraction to her disappear in an instant. He realized that he was just another sale, and decided that the story she told him was probably false.

"No. I told you that I wasn't going to buy anything." He began to walk to the door.

"We have many more. You don't need to buy anything for your girlfriend?" she rushed to say.

"I already told you," he began disappointed that she had already forgotten what he had already explained, "I don't have a girlfriend."

"I know. I didn't mean that. Your friends," she said eagerly.

"No," and he left.

As he walked away he thought about the story and agreed that love is always on our minds.

+ + + +

The painting stared back at him. He looked and found a strong understanding with the old poet in the painting. He knew what it felt like to be completely alone, and to be reminded of it by the vast spaces found in nature: like when standing in a desert, or when watching the sun set into an unending ocean from a cliff.

He thought of the mountain he had climbed in Gyeongju, in Korea. At its summit he sat in peace and enjoyed the winds as they caressesed his forearms and shaved scalp. Upon that summit, he felt all the distance between him and his family: vast oceans and continents. So far was he from those he loved. He thought for a moment of the life he had left behind in Japan and the short and failed relationships he had had there.

He wondered if he would ever marry and how difficult it would be for him to settle into giving up his long-time affair with solitude.

He looked at the vast waterfall falling over the poet in the painting. And then he thought of her. Yes, her; still there, lingering in his mind. She was far from him; perhaps months away. He didn't know her. Not, at all. And his mind was too old and worn to fantasize and dream. It was then that he knew, that for the rest of his journey he would be condemned to think about her. She would haunt him. Yes, she would haunt him until the end.

And so he stared at the poet in the painting, standing all alone, in room 502, in the Astor House of old Shanghai.

-----------------
This Work of Words was composed by Domenico Italo Composto-Hart
Copyright Protection 2004
www.thedragonbone.com

August, Friday the 13th, 2004 - Berlin, Germany
The Travels of Dom e NiKo: Essay, Thoughts, and Other Tales

My state of mind is changing during this leg of my journey. Asia still lingers in my mind. But, I am now here in the "West"; traveling through the lands of my ancestors.

There is a lot that is going through my head now. Thoughts of the past, the present, and the future. Thoughts of life and death. Of love, and solitude.

These feelings need an outlet. And so from this point forth, until I return to my home in the land beyond the Gates of Hercules, I will begin sharing with you stories that I have been writing during this journey.

These stories share a common theme: solitude, loneliness. And within these stories you will find elements of magic and hope.

I hope you will enjoy them as much as I have enjoyed writing them. I will post my first short story within the next day or two :)

Sincerely yours, in Mind and Spirit,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

Copenhagen, Denmark - August 5th to 7th, 2004

2004-08-09T05:28:00.000-07:00

An inviting tattoo shop, Copenhagen.

Copenhagen, Denmark - August 5th to 7th, 2004
A Small Gallery of Photo´s
Well, after 5 months of typing about my travels you can now see them. I am now in the home of my uncle Joachim in Hamburg, Germany. Here I have found a warm and pleasant place to rest and prepare for the next couple of months of travel ahead. Most importantly though I have given my backpack a good scrubbing and cleaning.

Below I have posted an assortment of photo´s that I took in Copenhagen, Denmark. Instead of describing thís city to you I will simply allow your eyes to wander. And so enjoy :)

Domenico "Itachan" Composto
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-08-09T05:27:00.000-07:00

Storkespringvandet, or Stork Fountain, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:25:00.001-07:00

Relaxing on grass because they ain´t got a beach along Inderhaven river, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:25:00.000-07:00

The Tivoli amusement park in the center of Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:23:00.002-07:00

Diving into Inderhaven river, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:23:00.001-07:00

Everyone about to watch a movie in the square that sits before city hall, Copenhagen.

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The canal veering around the man-made island of Slotsholmen, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:19:00.001-07:00

At the top of a spiraling tower, Copenhagen.

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Looking at the Royal Reception Chambers, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:18:00.001-07:00

You are now entering Christiania, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:18:00.000-07:00

One of the many walls that have been painted in Christiania, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:17:00.000-07:00

Jazz Bar in Christiania, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:15:00.000-07:00

The Statue of Bishop Absalon, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:14:00.000-07:00

The Square before Radhus (City Hall), Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:12:00.001-07:00

The Royal Theatre, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:12:00.000-07:00

Nyhavn Canal, Copenhagen; it was dug 300 years ago.

2004-08-09T05:09:00.000-07:00

Church and Citadel, Copenhagen.

2004-08-09T05:08:00.000-07:00

The Little Mermaid

2004-07-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

Oslo, Norway - August 3rd to the 4th
Land of Vikings, and the Unaffordable Subway Sandwich
I arrived at about 6:15 in the morning in Oslo. My neck, and body in general, were aching from having to sleep on a stiff bus seat. After getting off the bus and slapping my massive backpack on I walked to Albertine Hostel, which was about a 7 minute walk from the bus and train station. I discovered at the hostel that I could not check in until 3 in the afternoon, and so I had a tremendous amount of time to kill. I threw my bag into the baggage room of the hostel, washed up, and then left in search of breakfast.

To tell the truth I was very tired and simply in need of a place to stay with no need to explore another city. Yes, I was burnt out, and really looking forward to arriving to Hamburg, Germany where I could to stay with my uncle Joachim and his family to recoup, relax, and prepare for further travels.

And so in that state of mind I walked into the center of Oslo content to see that it was in fact a very small city, just slightly bigger in appearance from Helsinki. From the Oslo Domkirke church I walked west until I found a cafe that was open at the ungodly hour of 7:30 in the morning. I went in and just wanted to sit. I bought a sandwich and a carton of milk and did sat down. As I ate I looked at the Norwegian girls who were working behind the counter and saw that they in a way looked like a Norwegian pop-singer I had worked with back in Japan. After finishing my sandwich I read my book.

Later I decided that I still had a tremendous amount of time to kill before I could check into my hostel and take a much needed shower. And so I decided to explore Oslo a bit more. I exited the cafe and walked west toward the Det Kongelige Slott which is the residence of the king of Norway. The palace sits on top of a hill that looks down upon the city of Oslo. There is a beautiful park all around the palace, and so after taking a bit of a stroll around the palace I continued that stroll into the park. The far western side of the park has a few man-made ponds where ducks can play and bath in. It reminded me very much of Boston Garden which is on the western side of the Boston Commons. In fact I found Oslo reminding me of Boston in many ways. Their subway system is called the T, just like in Boston. And the architecture of most of the buildings in Oslo, especially west of the royal palace, reminded me very much of the architecture in London and in Boston.

Gradually I made my way to the bay where I found a fortress called Akershus Festning. The fortress itself is not too impressive from the inside. It makes for a nice walk and gives a scenic view of Oslo and the bay but really nothing more. Within the fortress there are two museums. I decided to check out the Norwegian Resistance Museum which chronicles the resistance movement against the occupation of the Nazi´s during the Second World War. I was disappointed with the museum. The dioramas looked to have been made by high school students and I found that overall the museum wasnt very informative. I learned more from overhearing an American talk to his friends about the stories he had heard from his Norwegian father about his involvement with the resistance movement than from the museum itself.

From the fortress I walked past the Radhus, the city hall building, which stands right in front of the pier where you can catch a boat to one of the many islands in and around Oslo.

And so I walked and walked waiting until I could check into my hostel. And when 3 o´clock arrived I returned to the hostel, checked in, took a shower, and fell asleep. I didnt wake until the hostel fire alarm went off at 3 or 4 in the morning (I had slept for 12 hours straight). When I woke up to the alarm I found that there was a German traveler in my dorm room. Together we exited the hostel and waited with everyone else for the police and fire department to arrive. The fire alarm was a false one and we all returned to our rooms. Soon after arriving in my dorm room three Italian young men arrived; we all chatted a bit about Oslo. And then I went back to sleep.

The next day I made it a priority to visit the Nasjonalgalleriet which is the National Gallery. There I wanted to see the famous Munch painting called The Scream. The gallery had a find display of impressionist paintings for the late 19th and early 20th century. Some were quite colorful and somewhat vibrant. Also within the gallery I found one of Vincent Van Gogh´s self portraits, I was very pleased.

From there I returned to the pier and took a 7 minute boat journez to Bygdoy peninsula. The peninsula is full of wonderful homes, trees, parks, and several museums. I went to the Vikingskipshuset, a Viking ship museum.

The Vikingskipshuset Notes:
The museum has three original 9th century Viking ships: the Oseberg, Gokstad, and Tune. They were found in burial mounds in the Oslo Fjord area and excavated between the years 1867 and 1904.

Archaeologists found a woman and her slave girl buried in the Oseberg ship, while in the other two ships they found men.

During the Viking Age (800 to 1050 AD) it was customary to bury the dead in boats. "The dead were buried in a burial chamber in the stern of the ship. Bodies were buried with a supply of food, drink, horses, dogs, and useful and decorative objects.

"When the ships were excavated it was discoverd that they were robbed of their precious items. Regardless an array of fantastic finds were found. Clothes and objects made of wood were found preserved. This was in part due to the fact that the ships were buried in blue clay and covered with stones, clay, and turf."

The Vikings came from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark and they traded furs, bird down, walrus ivory to their European counterparts as well as iron that was produced in Norwegian mountain hamlets.

Vikings usually took to the seas to trade and settle new lands.

Vikings, as merchants, sold goods in towns and marketplaces and established trading colonies in Ireland and Russia and settled Iceland and Greenland, and were the first Europeans to reach North America. They sailed the coasts of Europe into the Mediterranean the rivers of Russia into the Black and Caspian Sea.

"During the Viking Age Norway consisted of smaller chiefdoms, later it was unified under a single king."

Viking Class Structure:
"The ships found in the museum were for the upper class. Yeoman farmers formed the backbone of society, and they were free men who held the right to bear arms. Slaves were the lowest class; they were the property of owners, held no legal rights, and were usually foreigners who had been taken prisoner on a raid.

"Norsemen plundered churches, monastaries, and towns."

Viking Ship Building, and Long Sea Journeys:
"Viking shipwrights did not use plans or drawings; all measurements were taken by eye . . . Sails were made of woollen cloth."

"The crew of a viking ship had to row and bail, operate sails, rigging and steer the ship. Conditions on the ship were not pleasant for there was no shelter from the cold and rains. There is no evidence that food was ever cooked on board and so while at sea it is believed that they ate dried foods and drank water. They often sailed in coastal waters during the day and then parked their ship upon a beach to sleep on land by night.

"With the single square sail of the ship they could sail with and against the wind . . . and could hit speeds of 12 knots (24 km/hr).

"The Vikings did not use maps or compasses. Thez used coastal waters and man-made landmarks to navigate . . . and in foreign lands they found new signs and landmarks . . . and in the open sea they navigated to wave patterns and the prevailing winds. Logic told them that the mid-day sun shown in the south and that sea birds were a sign for land."

The Norwegian Subway Sandwich:
Scandanavia has a reputation for being very expensive for those who come in for a visit. This is very much true and I found Norway to be the most expensive city in Scandanavia. The best example I can give you is the cost of a foot-long Subway sandwich. I spent over $10 U.S. for a single sandwich, and it did not come with a drink or cookie. As a result I found myself hesitant to buy anything in Norway.

I would like to return to Scandanavia and spend a month of two camping, hiking, and bicycling through the mountains of Norway and the virgin forests of northern Finland. If and when I do that will all depend on my ability to afford such a luxury.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

Stockholm, Sweden - July 30th to August 2nd
The Open Mindedness of the Swedes
It is said that the Swedes are the most open minded people on the face of the planet. And after spending a few days here I would have to agree. There is a sharp change in the make up of the population of Stockholm compared to Helsinki. In Helsinki the people are predomintately caucasian, typically blond and blue eyed. They are beautiful people, the Finnish.

Then in Stockholm you see a cosmopolitan mix of Swedes, Indians, Iraqi´s, Africans, Muslim Africans, people from North Africa, the Middle East, China, etc.

The best example I can give you is that when exploring the Royal Palace in Stockholm, which is the biggest Royal Palace in the world, I realized that one of the Royal Guards was Chinese! Yes, I nearly twisted my head right off when I took a double-take look to see this Chinese guard dressed in an immaculately clean blue uniform. And yet for the Swedes it would mean nothing to see such an oddity; to see a Chinese young man guarding the Royal Palace, for that is Sweden. Sweden is a country where inter-racial marriages are common; 20% of the population of Sweden is either foreign born or have one parent that is non-Swedish. And as a result the population of Sweden is heavily mixed. You may stroll the streets of Gamla Stan (the Old Town) and see a group of girls (composed of a Chinese girl, an Indian girl, a Thai girl, and a Swedish girl) all speaking Swedish. And no Swede would see these girls as anything but Swedish. Thus in a sense Stockholm is a wonderful utopian city to live in for those who have escaped from countries suffering from wars and other civil disasters.

The immigration policy in Sweden is quiet open. And thus there are now about 500,000 foreign nationals living in Sweden; Sweden has a population of 9 million. Also of note: "15% of Greater Stockholm´s 1.8 million people are immigrants." But there is a degree of segragation in the city of Stockholm. Travel to the outher fringes of the city and you will see ghetto neighborhoods composed strictly of a specific ethnic group.

But nonetheless speak to any Swedish teenagers and they will tell you that they are in school studying and having fun with fellow Swedes from all sorts of ethnic backgrounds; and they pay little attention to these ehtnic differences for in the end they are all Swedes.

In Helsinki, as I have mentioned before, and well, Finland in general, the population is predominatly homogenous. And so it can be argued that there are those in Finland who are a bit racist. I saw one young man in Helsinki proudly wearing a shirt that exclaimed, "Thank God I was born White."

But, I dont want to stereotypes the Finnish. On my boat trip, more like cruise trip, to Stockholm I met a young Finnish man. His name was Lauri, and he was 19 years old. He had just begun his trip through Europe. He was extremely excited and eager to see and learn all he could about the countries that he would visit in his native Europe. And he exuded this excitement by jumping on any opportunity to speak and practice the many languages he was studying and knew. In the time that I spent with him, for we spent a few hours together walking the streets of Stockholm, I heard him speak Spanish, Italian, Swedish, of course English, and his native Finnish. At just the age of 19 he could speak 5 languages. I was and still am incredibly impressed with this young man. Not only that he studied history and was able to explain to me in incredibly detail the history of Finland and Sweden and their political relationships with Russia and Germany. How fantastic is it that in countries such as Finland there are young men and women who can communicate in so many languages.

Yesterday, in Stockholm, I met a Middle Eastern man in Sweden. He spoke perfect Swedish. He was working from behind his hotdog stand. When he asked me where I was from after I bought some food and a drink he kept saying, "Welcome, Welcome - U.S.A. - Welcome to Sweden." I asked him where he was from, and when I learned that he was from Iraq I was surprised to hear that he was happy to see me, an American. He said that he was happy that the U.S. got rid of Saddam. I told him that I did not like Bush. He did not care. He liked Bush. He explained that his parents and extended family still live in Baghdad. When I was about to leave we shook hands and he said again, "Welcome, welcome, to Sweden."

I felt good after that. As an American traveling the globe I am constantly met with the resentment that people, from other nations, have against the U.S. But I feel good as well when I meet young men and women from other nations who are happy to see that I am traveling and to find that I am not the "typical" American; I do not fit their stereo-type. And as a result they reply, "I am happy to meet an American like you, there is hope for your country."

But, getting back to Stockholm. The other thing that you will find is that the citizens of Stockholm support their homosexual community. The flag poles infront of the Royal Palace´s eastern entrance has several Rainbow Flags (the Pride Flag I believe it is called) waving in the winds. I believe these flags were there in support of the massive Pride Parade held yesterday in Stockholm. And throughout the city you will see many restaurants and cafe´s that cater specifically to gay, lesbian, and bisexual individuals. Thus again this is all another example of the "open-minded"the Swedes really are.

Stockholm: The City of Peace
The Nobel Peace Prize is awarded here in Stockholm. Its banquet is held in Stadshuset, the Town Hall; a beautiful building that has a tall tower which reveals a fantastic view of Stockholm from its summit. There is a peaceful garden along its southern side that faces the river.

It can be easily argued that Stockholm is one of the most beautiful national capitals in the world. And "the low birth and mortality rates makes Sweden among the oldest population" in the world. And with the "open-mindedness" of the people coupled with his scenic beauty and 100,000 lakes one can also argue that Sweden is the closest thing to a utopia that one may find. Of course it is not totally perfect but the Swedes are striving for perfection.

The Swedish Tradition of Travel
On this trip I have met an incredible number of Swedish travelers. Whether I was in Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Burma, China, or Mongolia I kept running into Swedes backpacking. As I said before the population of Sweden is only 9 million. It is remarkable to me that for such a small population there is such a large number of Swedes exploring the globe.

But, I guess it shouldnt be too much of a surprise. Swedish adventurers had traveled well into Russia, Arabia, and Byzantium. And it is speculated that Swedish vikings perhaps were the first to travel as far as North America; thus be the first Europeans to discover the continent.

Vasamuseet
Vasamuseet (I hope I spelled that correctly) is a spectacular museum. The entire museum is dedicated to a 17th century ship. The ship was built under King Vasa for a war he was waging in Poland. It was a religious war on the surface (Lutheran Sweden vs. Catholic Poland) but in reality it was a war aimed to secure sea ports in the Baltic.

The Baltic Sea is one of the least salty seas in the world. As a result a certain worm that eats away wood does not exist in its waters. And as a result of that any and all wooden sea vessels that have sunk in its waters remain in perfect condition.

Sometime in the 1960s a man searched for the Vasa vessel that had sunk 300 years before in the bay that surrounds Stockholm. He found it and work was under way, supported by the King, to bring the vessel to the surface. It took several years to raise the ship. When it was raised all sorts of treasures were found: clothing and shoes of sailors trapped within the ship were found, one of the sails was still intact, eating instruments such as spoons and forks and plates and pitchers were discovered, tool boxes filled with carpenter tools were found, coins, cannons, and so forth were found on and in the ship. The ship stands at the center of the musuem in perfect condition. It is simply unbelievable to see this ship that is nearly 300 plus years old right before your eyes.

Catching Up with Old Friends
I took a bus on the 1st of August to Uppsala to meet up with three Swedish friends I had met in Vietnam. Uppsala is only an hour north of Stockholm by bus. Uppsala is the 4th largest city in Sweden; but for me it was like a quiet little college town. Uppsala is also one of the oldest cities in Sweden. In Gamla (Old) Uppsala, which is 4 km north of the center of town, there are pre-Viking grave mounds that are quiet large - they reminded me of the burial mounds I saw for the royalty of the longest running dynasty in the world in South Korea - but there are also 300 smaller mounds all around the area. There is also a church there which is the oldest in Scandanavia; I believe the church was first established in the 12th century by an archbishop.

The town of Uppsala is a college town. It has the oldest university in Scandanavia and the largest cathedral in Scandanavia. Within the Uppsala Cathedral is buried the first King of Sweden, King Vasa.

I explored Uppsala with Frederick, Malin, Marcus and his girlfriend. I first met Frederick and Malin in Saigon, Vietnam and I met Marcus in Hanoi with Frederick. It was fantastic to see the three of them again and to hear what they have been up to and what they will be doing in the months ahead. Malin will be going to England to pursue her studies in film and television and Frederick will begin his studies at the University in Uppsala. Marcus is back working for Carlsberg. I really hold them in the highest light. They are fantastic friends and I look forward to seeing them again some day in the future ;)

Sincerely,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

30 Years of RUSH - A Tribute to the Tao of Peart
July 29th, 2004
I was surprised to find out that RUSH is back. If you recall my journal entry in regards to my climb of Tai Shan Mountain in China then you will recall my words in regard to Neil Peart; my adolescent drum and philosophy hero.

I was in a book store in Helsinki when I found a recent issue of a Bass Guitar magazine with Geddy Lee (the singer/bassist of RUSH) on the cover. I picked it up and opend the magazine up to his interview and was surprised to see that RUSH had a new album; a cover album of 60´s rock tunes that they grew up to.

And as a result the next time I popped into an internet cafe I checked their website at www.rush.com and found that they would be touring Europe and North America to celebrate their 30 years of playing music.

Not too many people know about RUSH. They have a very strong underground following. Once a RUSH fan always a RUSH fan. Im a bit watered down as a RUSH fan though compared to my adolescent years. But I do find myself listening to them from time to time just to keep in touch, you could say.

Neil Peart was - and in a way still is - one of my hero´s. As I said before in my China journal Neil inspired me to be not just a drummer but to be a writer and a traveler. Thus here I am traveling and writing; and always thinking of music, and super eager to jump behind my beautiful drum set.

Neil is also a fine example of a man who continues to live his life when his world comes crumbling down. When I was a freshman in college RUSH released their Test for Echo album. I honestly didnt care too much for the album; this was a sign that I was growing to love other styles of music. They toured and then news hit the internet digital waves that Neil´s only daughter (and only child) was killed in a car accident. RUSH fans the world over were deeply saddened. Then a year after his daughter´s death his wife fell to cancer. Neil had lost his entire family in less than two years. RUSH fans felt that of all the people in the world Neil was the one least deserving of these two tragedies. And time passed. And in that time no one knew where Neil was. He had left; riding his motorcylce cross country from Canada to the U.S. to Mexico and Central America. RUSH fans did not know if the band would continue to make music. Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson (the two other members of RUSH) were left waiting for any word from Neil, and for his return.

While Neil rode from place to place trying to deal, escape, and deal with the pain of having lost two of his most precious loved ones he - later confessing - felt that he never wanted to return to his drum throne. He was done with music.

Im sure he felt guilty for being a father and a husband who was rarely home. As a musician he was always on the rode touring or in the studio recording or traveling from country to country solo on his bike (his hobby). Such is the life of a musician. And then, suddenly he found that his family was gone. Was this God damning him for always living away from his family? No, Neil would not have such nonesense. He was always one to own up to his circumstances and situations without pointing a finger or blaming and outside other. His greatest lesson to his drum followers was to live life with intention, never to live it as a victim.

And so I am happy to see Neil back where he belongs; because one cannot escape what one is. He is one of the most influential and respected progressive rock drummers of the world. His place his behind his drums, backing up his old friends Geddy and Alex in their 30 year old band, RUSH.

And so, if any of you find the trails and tragedies of the world coming down on you. Look to Neil´s example. He lost both his daughter and his wife (his entire family); and he is still here, playing better than before, inspiring another generation of up-and-coming drummers not only through the way he plays but in the way he has and continues to approach his life. No matter what ever may happen you can rest assured that Neil will still be banging on his drums and living his life to the fullest.

With all my respects to Neil,
A man who would probably hate to see that a kid like me sees him as a hero (he is a self-less kind of guy that doesnt want that type of recognition),
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

Helsinki, Finland: Utopia? - July 27th to 29th
The ferry (more like a cruise ship) to Helsinki from Tallinn, Estonia is about 3 hours and a bit. I went into and out of sleep up on deck with the cool winds blowing over me and the sight of a seagull hovering in pace with the ferry not too far away.

The first thing you are too see as you near Helsinki by sea are a few rocky islands with minty green grasses and tall standing trees. Then you begin to approach the city; and you notice an island hear and there. One island has a series of white cylinder structures serving some kind of industrial - or some other - purpose.

They bay I entered into is called Etelasatama; and as I was to discover, it seemed always full of gigantic cruise ships.

My hostel was about a block or two away from port. It is called Euro Hostel (www.eurohostel.fi) and it is simply the best hostel I have ever stayed in. This hostel is a reflection of Finland. It is a work of pure integrity. It is extremely clean, well-kept, and organized. There is a restaurant within it where a healthy buffet style breakfast is served. The restaurant has a staff that is dressed like 4 star restaurant waiters. The personnel at the reception desk are happy and eager to help its customers out. There is a laundry with machines that actually clean and dry (as opposed to other machines Ive used on my trip that do all but that). There is a sauna and clean dorm style showers and toilets. The rooms are plain, but they too are clean and have lockable closets. The hallways look like the corridors of a military run ship.

One of several things to stike me about Helsinki was that it is an exceptionally clean city. There is no garbage anywhere except for where it belongs, the garbage bin or can. But yet there are barely any garbage bins to be found. How does this city stay so clean? The people here are well-educated, quiet, and pleasant Europeans. They rarely speak loudly and they all speak perfect English. Perhaps their grammer is better than that of most Americans.

As a city the closest place that it reminds me of is Boston. It is a very small version of Boston. You can walk around the whole of the city in about 2.5 hours. There are green trolleys (just like Boston´s Green Line) running to and fro throughout the city. There is also a subway. And there are plenty of taxi´s. There is no shortage of public transportation in this city. And it seems that every tiny little corner and street is covered by these public buses, trolleys, and subways. In fact one could argue that there is a simply oversupply of public transporation in Helsinki. For a city so small one can simply walk instead of take a trolley. There is no need for all these public transport vehicles. Well, it looks like in Helsinki taxes go to exactly where they should.

Helsinki was voted as the least corrupted city in the world. And thus it can be argued that in some political sense it simply is a utopia. It is a perfect city. Beautiful buildings of nearly a century in age line all streets. The streets are cobbled stone, and a few sidewalks are tiled with large and flat granite stones. When it rains there are perfect grooves within the sidewalk for the rain waters to follow into the street.

And as you walk to do your window shopping from the streets that run perpendicular from Pohjoiseplanadi and Etelaesplanadi street (between these two streets is a perfectly trimmed park that reminds me so much of Boston) you will hear classical music being played by the hands of young men and women. The sounds classical pieces played from violins, cellos, marimbas (yes, marimbas), and acoustic guitars fill the air. You can sit at one of the many, many cafe´s sipping your exotic coffee and listen to the sounds of music fill the air.

All shops, movie theaters, museums, streets, markets, are perfectly well kept. They rival the Japanese in their cleanliness. And if you walk north west from Kaivopaiste Park (a beautiful, clean park south of the city) you will find a residential area that can only remind one of Beacon Hill in Boston.

Senate Square - Senaatintori - is where you will find the largest gathering of uncorrupt politicians.

Even the speakers on the streets of Helsinki that play the natural chirpings of birds give the illusion that you are in some kind of urban paradise where homelessness is difficult to find and all people dress to please the eyes of passer-bys.

Note:
One thing that I found interesting was a trolley/bar train. As you travel to work or home you can sip on your favorite brew; what a fantastic European idea!

The only nuisance that you may find in Helsinki, as in Tallinn or in Moscow, is a drunk man and that is it.

I think it funny that Finland - the least corrupted country in the world stands just north of Russia, as if looking down on it.

My room-mate in my hostel is an American from California. He now lives in St. Petersburg but was in Helsinki for a visa-run. His wife is Russian and they met in college in the U.S.

He was very informative. He explained that Russia is extremely corrupt. Getting a visa was an example of that. Ask anyone who has traveled to Russia and they will tell you what a hassle it is to get a visa into Russia. The easist way to get a visa is through a Russian travel agency. Most of these agencies are run by ex-Russian police officers who have the inside track into getting a visa easily. And so they profit from that. When will the needless bureacracy into getting a Russian visa without the use of a travel agent disappear? Not any time soon. As long as these ex-cops pull in their money from their travel agencies supplying visa-support services there will always be the long, tiring hassle of getting a visa through the Russian consulates on one´s own.

Several of the world´s top ten richest men live in Russia or are Russian. How can this be? Well, when communism fell those men who had the inside track into getting once government owned industries to privatize them became - nearly over night - ultra, ultra rich. These "new rich" Russians are in one way or another tied to one of the many russian mob groups. Together they influence and buy off politicians to secure deals between the government and international corporations that have been flooding into Russia ever since Communism fell.

As a result of all of this the gap between rich and poor in Russia is growing. Most of the new poor are nearly retired to retired elderly people who possess obselete labor skills and are simply being left behind to pour their sorrows into the many gambling slot machines that are now to be found in all Russian cities (its nice to see someone making a profit from the addictions of the poor). And coupled with this gambling is also alcoholism as a temporary relieft from depression. In Moscow you will see old women trying to sell small knick-knacks.

And, as my room-mate explained, there is a surge of elderly women involved in the "pyramid get-rich schemes" collecting points with the fever of obessesion.

But, there is hope. President Putin is well-loved by the Russians. And deservedly so. He is young and encouraging of the future youth, he attends graduations and lectures the educated young on how important they are to the future of Russia. Putin is surrounded by corruption. He wants reform but they are many rich and lazy civil-servants who do not want change. He has to be careful in not making to many enemies. And so he must strike a balance between reform and not.

Notes about Helsinki: I didnt go to this bar but here in Helsinki there is the Arctic Icebar where it is kept at below 5 degrees in summer and winter. The interior decor of the bar is made entirely in ice!

The Sauna. Yes, I did go into a Finnish sauna. Twice I did. And completely naked was I. Although the sauna is to be found in nearly all first world countries it should be recognized that the custom came from Finland. Here in Finland nearly every family that has a summer cottage home has a sauna built into it. And for those in apartment buildings there is usually at least one public sauna in it.

Also of note is NOKIA. Nokia is a Finnish company. I did not know that. And did you know that Nokia also makes computers.

That is all for now. Tonight I take a 16 hour cruise ship to Stockholm, Sweden.

Sincerely,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

Tallinn, Estonia - July 25th and 26th - "Vraakimine on hobe, vaikas on kald"
That bit of Estonian that Ive written there translates to "Conversation is Silver, Silence is Gold." And that is an appropriate quote to describe the city of Tallinn. Tallinn has a population of 398,430 but it more feels like 30,000 to me. The Old Town of the city is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It boasts 14th and 15th medieval architecture and orthodox (and not) churches. The streets of the Old Town are nearly all cobbled stone. It is all surrounded by a defensive wall that spans a 2.5 km length; which is nothing compared to the massive defensive walls that I saw in Xi an and Nanjing, China.

You can pretty much cover all of the Old Town in an afternoon. Ive been here for two days and that is way too much time for a guy like me to spend in a quiet town like this.

I like the Old Town. It is cute and quiet. It is relaxing and full of boutique shops, restaurants, and cafe´s with wooden decks full of chairs and tables for tourists to sit, relax, talk, and people watch. There are girls every few blocks selling, "Estonia`s best post cards!" and beyond them not too many other locals to see. It is said that Estonians like their neighbor to be no closer than a kilometer away. And I believe it. The city of Tallinn is nearly a ghost town. If it wasnt for the tourists that parade the streets near Raekoja Plats (the famed plaza where stands the only surviving Gothic town hall which was built in 1371) then Tallinn would really be a ghost town. Most Estonians flock to their summer cottages in July and August to get away from the traffic of tourists and their noise.

Walk south of Toompea (a sort of hill where you will find Toompea Castle which is traditionally Estonia`s seat of power) for about 10 minutes and you will feel like you are walking through a secluded northern suburb of Chicago.

Tallinn is cute and charming and has more of a feel of Scandanavia than the other Baltic countires. If that is what you´re into then check this place out. It is extremely safe and, as I keep mentioning, quiet.

And after two days I think Ive had enough of the "quiet". Tomorrow morning I leave for Helsinki, Finland via 3 hour boat ride across the Bay of Finland.

Note:
The population of Estonia breaks down into the following: 68% Estonian, 26% Russian, and about 3% Ukrainian and Belarussian. When Estonia joined the E.U. a few months ago a large percentage of the Russian Estonians were left stateless. Estonian law requires anyone seeking Estonian citizenship to take an exam that tests their level of the Estonian language. Those who fail the exam cannot gain citizenship. As a result these Russian Estonian never claimed Estonian citizenship; since they saw themselves as Russians and not as Estonians. They simply choose to not speak Estonian and stay within their Russian communities and schools.

But, now that Estonia is apart of the E.U. these Russian Estonians have no official citizenship, no passport. They have been left behind. What will become of them? The younger generation will have to learn the Estonian language - but that may prove difficult since they are strongly patriotic Russians with little desire to do so.

Also of Note:
One of many pieces of romance that I found in Tallinn on Sunday (25th of July) was that there were several women wallking around town with their spouses with a single rose in their hand.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-24T03:01:00.000-07:00

Ze Train (4 days on the Trans-Siberian Rail from Irkutsk to Moscow)
The legendary Trans-Siberian rail - the longest running rail in the world - was the metallic carriage that carried me away from the East and back into the West.

I shared my compartment with two guys who were around my age. There was Monty from New York who was leader of his Sun Downers travel group. And there was Ben from Australia who was being trained to become a group leader for Sun Downers by Monty. Sun Downers is a travel company based in Australia that takes groups on exotic journeys throughout the Old World.

It was a pleasure to spend my 4 days on a train with Monty and Ben and the people in their group. As guys do we told stupid jokes and talked about stupid movies that we had seen. Then there were our moments of glory and defeat in round after round of card playing.

In one card playing case two very young Russian girls (perhaps 10 and 8) asked to play cards with us. But we ended up playing card games that only they only knew. As time progressed more and more people from the Sun Downers group came into our compartment aiding us in trying to understand the rules of the card game. Trick was though that once we figured out the rules the girls would change to another card game and so we had to start from square one again in figuring out how to play.

I then took the reigns after getting frustrated by grabbing all the cards and telling the girls that they had to play one of our Western card games. Of course they had no idea what they hell I said since they didnt speak English and we sure as hell didnt speak Russian. And so we ended up playing poker. A competitive spirit between me and the youngest Russian girl grew and grew. Every time I beat her I would rub it in her face with a mean adolescent laugh. She would respond by beating my arm with her fist. At one point she turned to me, ran her index fingure across her throat, and said, "Caput!" The guys and I all laughed hysterically. Of all the words she said we definitely understood that one. Yup, she wanted me dead.

The train journey is a vacation. All you obligated to do is sleep, eat, sleep, read a book, sleep, talk, play cards, eat, talk, and then sleep. It was pleasant to simply relax in the train and to sleep to its rocking motions. But by the fourth day I was more than happy to arrive in Moscow and stretch a bit and finally take a shower.

Moscow - July 21st to the 24th
I was picked up from the train station and driven to the Izaimolov Hotel (spelling?). The hotel was built to accomodate the Olympic athletes that came to Moscow for the Olympics in 1980 (I believe that was the year). In any case the U.S. boycotted that event. Just near the hotel is the largest urban park in the world. There are a lot of "in to the world" accomplishments in Moscow. For example the Cathedral of the Christ the Savior was newly built on what was once the world's largest swimming pool. Near Red Square there is the Hotel Rossiya which was once the world's largest hotel before the Las Vegas MGM took that title.

After arriving at my hotel and checking in I decided to take it easy and relax. I showered and then proceeded down to the lobby to find a place for dinner and to check my email. After that I retired to my room and went to bed early.

On the 22nd I got out of bed at around 6:30. I had an early breakfast and then went to the Metro station to take the famous Moscow subway.

The Moscow Subway
The Moscow Subway is fantastic. If I had a month in Moscow I would dedicated a couple of days to just surfing through its many rails and stations (there are about 120 stations). The first station dates back to 1935 and were "dug so deep to also act as bomb shelters. Many of the stations are considered art and design classics."

It is a bit intimidating to navigate the subway since all the signs are entirely in Russian but that aside it is an artistic adventure. Each station is wonderfully decorated in old classical styles of architecture. Some stations are lined with bronze statues of Russian men and women holding different kinds of firearms. The train itself is old which gives it its art-deco charm. As you travel on the train the lights flicker off and on from time to time.

The frequency of trains is more than convenient. The train comes every one to two minutes. Thus it is more frequent that the Tokyo subway. Some of the escalators are old but incredibly fast; I nearly got dizzy as a result. A photographer could spend half a life time taking photo's within the Moscow metro. And in my opinion would be a fantastic setting for a movie.

One thing that was nice to see on the trains was that everyone was reading. I had finally escaped the comic book and cell phone culture that occupies everyone's time and eyes on the trains in China, Korea, and Japan. Russians read, and they read a lot. And at all the stations you will find kiosks selling Russian books for those who forgot their book for the train ride to or from work.

Lenin - #3 of the Collect all three Dead and Frozen Communist Leaders Happy Meal Set
In the late morning of the 22nd I saw the body of Lenin within his Mausoleum in Red Square. And thus I had completed my tour of the Three Dead Communist Leaders (Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi, Mao Zedong in Beijing, and Lenin in Moscow).

Compared with Mao and Ho Chi Minh not too many, in fact barely any, Russian locals go to see the corpse of Lenin. Most of the people in line to see him are tourists. And the line is small compared to the massive line before Ho Chi Minh's and Mao's mausoleum.

I waited in line for about 45 minutes but it didnt matter because I was busy conversing with a group of Mexicans and two Swiss girls. Strangely enough I found a tremendous number of latino tourists in Moscow. Nearly every other moment I head spanish in Red Square. The Mexican group was very lively, as expected.

After seeing Lenin I spent the day with the two Swiss girls I had met in line. They were on their way to Beijing via the Trans-Mongolian rail and so I answered all their questions about the trip and about Beijing.

The three of us explored Red Square which is beautiful and lived up to everything I had imagined it to be. At the southern end of the Red Square is where sits the decorative St. Basil's Cathedral. It is nearly 500 years old and houses a many, many small rooms and chambers dedicated to the rites and practices of Russian Orthodox priests. It was my second time in a Russian Church for earlier in the morning I had attended mass at the Cathedral of the Christ Savior. The practices of this Orthodox form of Christianity is unlike any other I have witnessed. At the Cathedral of the Christ Savior middle aged women were the majority of those attending. They all had their heads covered with a shawl and constantly made the sign of the cross from forehead to chest to their right shoulder to their left shoulder and bowed and bowed and bowed. In some cases I saw a couple of women get onto their knees and bow their heads so that it touched the ground. Interesting, I thought, I wonder if that tradition of bowing your head so that it touched the ground came from any Oriental tradition?

There are no seats to sit on. Everyone must stand and witness the priest sing and go through the rites. He would disappear from time to time behind a wooden wall decorated with darkly painted icons of Mary and a baby Jesus that had the features more of a man than of a child.

One thing that I noticed within St. Basil's Cathedral and within the Cathedrals within the Kremlin was that the interior set up of them is not condusive for followers to partake in. There simply is no space for anyone more than the priest himself and a few other people.

St. Basil's is a labybrinth of small chambers and rooms located between spiraling stairways and walls. You can feel its 5 centuries of age everywhere. The red bricks that compose the floor are heavily worn down as are the walls.

After St. Basil's we walked through th GUM which is the beautiful State Department Store that lines the eastern side of the Red Square. It is very elegant, clean, posh, and huge. There are over 1,000 shops, cafe's, and restaurants within it. From there we had lunch in Alexandrovsky Garden which is located along the western wall of The Kremlin. The garden is very pleasant and full of Muscovites relaxing and eating on its well kept grasses.

From there we walked south the see the paintings within the Tretyakov Gallery. I enjoyed it. It had been a long time since I had seen any example of Western art. Behind me now are the calligraphy paintings of Asia.

Later in the day I found the largest internet cafe in Eastern Europe and sat down to type and catch up on this journal. By the time I got out of there it was night and I walked around Red Square taking more photo's of it.

July 23rd - The Kremlin
The Kremlin is exactly what the Russian word implies, it is a fortress. The Kremlin is the center of the Russian political universe. It is within its walls that Stalin lived and terrorized, it is within its walls were President Putin makes his home, it is within its walls that you will find the Russian Orthodox Churches that served as the headquarters of the Russian Church from 1320 A.D.

It was a rush to walk within the walls of the Kremlin. So long had I heard of it. So long had cold war spies from the West tried to breach its walls. There are five Russian Orthodox chruches within the Kremlin. There is a well kept garden and the Senate building, the Supreme Soviet building, and the Armoury which is where the President of the Russian Federation makes his home. Along the southern wall of the Arsenal building I saw 800 canons which were taken from the Napolean army when they retreated from Russia. I also saw the world's biggest bell which ways at about 202 tons, was cast in the 1730's, and was never rung. A massive piece from had cracked off it. Why, I do not know.

Open Bottles of Beer all ova za place:
One thing of important note in Russia are the number of people - both men and women - that walk the streets of Moscow, relax on the thin beaches of Irkutsk in Siberia, and read in the Moscow subway with an open bottle of beer in their hand. Russia is Beer Culture Paradise. But I dont drink so it doesnt really matter. In any case there is alcohol to be seen in all directions whether people slurping it or kiosks selling a million and one different varietes of it. If you like beer and like to drink it openly in public then Russia is the place for your next vacation holiday.

Afterthoughts on Moscow:
I love Moscow. I wish I had more time to spend and explore here. Initially I was afraid to come. I had heard stories of the Russian mob and police harrassing tourists and so forth. But that is simply not the case. Moscow is an wonderful European city. It is large and cosmopolitan sporting gourmet cafe's and restaurants along with exotic cars and designer clothing shops. The Moscovites are a proud and pleasant people. And they have a long and trying history to be proud about. They are warm - this is contrary to the stereotype I have heard of Russian people being cold - and usually very to the point saying nothing more than what needs to be said.

I know that I will return to Moscow and it I ever could afford to do so I would like to buy a small flat in the heart of Moscow.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-24T01:07:00.000-07:00

From Buuviet Ger Camp to Ulan Bator - July 13th
I got out of bed and looked out from the wooden door of my ger tent too see a mistical morning fog receding away between the valley of the rocky mountains that surrounded my camp. I did not want to leave. I had a bit of difficulty walking comfortably from my ger to the cabin washroom that was about 30 meters away. My inner thighs were soar and my butt was in pain.
In the afternoon of the 12th I went horse back riding upon one of the famed Mongolian horses. I did have a guide but he kept at a distance away allowing me to have a more private riding experience. The last time I had gone horse back riding was perhaps back in high school. I found though that I had not forgotten how to steer my horse. The one thing I did not have control over was the pace of our speed. I had never ridden a horse in a dead run. Ive gone from walks to trots on a horse but never a dead run. My horse loved to eat and without my permission would bow his head to graze on the grasses. I would allow him to do so for only a second before wanking on my stirrup to bring his head back up. We trotted toward the mountains but then suddently my horse took off. Away we ran in a dead run. It was exhilerating. There is nothing more exciting than to ride a horse in a dead run and feel the age old tradition of true horse back riding. I wanted to see a site called Mekhii Had but as I watched the storm clouds approaching from over the nothern mountains I realized that perhaps it wasnt a good idea. My horse kept running and I sang to his rhythm. Then it began to rain. I looked back for my guide but could not find him. My horse then began to eat. I pulled his head up, he walked a few steps and then ate again. The horse and I were at odds. The horse could care less of the fact that I wanted to find the guide. All he wanted to do was eat in the rain. So I gave in. He had defeated me. And so there I was unable to do much but sit on my grazing horse in the hard cold rain. About 7 minutes later my guide found me, rode up beside me, and took my stirrup. He lead my horse to a nearby ger camp. We got off our horses and tied the stirrups to a wooden fence that kept a few horses within it. We then went to the door of one of the gers and knocked. We were soon let in and thus I had the chance to see the interior of a Mongolian families home. Within the ger were two Swedes that had also got caught in the rain.  Three Mongolian men were busy watching their black and white TV; the Nadaam wrestling matches were on. There were several Mongolian women as well. Two were perhaps in their teens, the other was in her early 30's.  The Swedes and I were served a variety of traditional Mongolian dairy foods.  In plate in particular was very sweet. I tried a bit of all that was offered while washing it down with fermented mare's milk.

The door of a ger is always pointed to the south. This has always been the way. Even if you read the Travels of Marco Polo he will describe to you that the ger doors point south. And thus for 700 years and more the ger door has always pointed south. Within the ger you will find beds on wood frames. The women typically sleep on the bed that is aligned along the eastern curving wall of the ger. There is always a stove in the center of the ger. The stove faces east and so it is expected of Mongolian women to wake and cook for the stove is the first thing they will be before when they get out of bed. The men sleep on the western side of the ger. And to the northeast of the ger is where the ger shrine is located.

The ger is quiet warm. It is completely covered with felt. Add wood to your stove in the night and your ger will become incredibly warm. In the summer the felt that touches the ground is lifted up so that air can flow freely from the opening above the stove down into the ger and out from the felt floor opening formerly mentioned.

Well after having a pleasant breakfast on the 13th I got everything ready for my return to Ulan Bator. I was picked up just past 11.

On the south side of the longest bridge in Mongolia in Ulan Bator there are a series of apartment concrete complexes. They are all uniform. I believe the Russian had something to do with their design and construction. It was within one of these apartment complexes that I stayed for two nights. To save a bit of money I stayed in a homestay. The apartment was well kept by a single Mongolian woman who was perhaps in her late 60's. She spoke Mongolian and Russian and just a tiny bit of English; just enough to show me where the washroom and toilet were. She was very nice and the feeling within her home reminded me very much of my grandmother's home in Chile.

That afternoon I went out to explore the city. On my way north I ran into Clive who was an English student who was on my train from Beijing to Ulan Bator. We decided to get some lunch and then we headed south to check out the Winter Palace of Bogd Khaan. It was within this complex that the last king, Damba Hutagt VIII, of Mongolia lived in. The complex houses several Tibetan temples (Mongolia as well as Inner Mongolia in China and of course Tibet all subscribe to Tibetan Buddhism). And so this was the first time for me to see Tibetan temples and art. The grounds of the complex are not well kept in the least. Wild grass is to be seen everywhere. In some cases it seems that a wild tree and a bush or two are overtaking a few of the courtyard gate entrances.

The Palace itself is a two story sort of colonial stylized building. Within are objects and furniture that had belong to the king such as his toys as a child and his bed and clothing.

Sukhbaatar Square
From there Clive and I walked to Sukhbaatar Square. It reminded me a bit of Tiananmen Square in Beijing but on a much smaller scale. At the center of the square stands a statue of Damdin Sukhbaatar on a horse. He is a revolutionary hero of Mongolia and the first leader to strive for Mongolian Independence. Sadly though his statue is in my opinion and incredibly poor work of extremely low quality.

At the northern end of the square is Sukhbaatar's Maousoleum. No one is permitted within it though.

After that Clive and I strived to find Millie's which is a famous cafe in U.B. among travelers and expatriots. We used our Lonely Planet guide map to find it but never achieved doing so for it had moved.

For dinner Clive and I went into a restaurant/bar called The Jazz Club or something to that effect.  I had a mutton dish and a dark Mongolian beer.

July 14th in U.B. (Ulan Bator)
I suffered from a bad case of diarehea. It was the mutton that I had had for dinner that made me sick. This was the second time I got sick on this trip. The first time was in Myanmar. I took some medicine that I got in Bangkok and made out to an internet cafe in town. I couldnt really focus though on catching up with my digital journal since I spent most of my effort trying to hold down my stomach.

At 1 o'clock I went to Sukhbaatar Square to meet up with a friend I had met in Tokyo. Her name is Stina and she is originally from Estonia. She is a professional vocalist and she lived in Japan working as a singer and as a model. She actually worked in a few movies as well; she was a stand-in in the movie Lost in Translation and if you get the DVD and watch the making-of segments you will actually see her sitting next to Billy Murry in one of the restaurant scenes.

In Japan she met her husband who is Mongolian. And thus there she was now living in U.B.

I actually met her backstage at one of my shows. She used to work with my friend Toshi who is a music producer in Tokyo. Toshi introduced us. At that time she was just a week away from moving to Mongolia and I was just a month or two from beginning my trip. I told her that I would be stopping by in Mongolia. And thus there we were in Sukhbaatar Square.

She took me to one of her favorite restaurants in U.B. which she confessed did not have great service but did have great food.  I was impressed with the restaurant. It was very well decorated within and had a lot of expatriots as regular customers.

I had some more mutton dishes (probably not a good idea with the poor state of my stomach) and a Mongolian tea which was more like a soup. The tea had bits of mutton within it.

The food was all very good. But if you are a vegetarian you probabaly will starve in Mongolia.  Nearly all of their dishes have dairy or meat in it.

After a long lunch of catching up and learning a bit about our pasts and why we were in Japan we rode (she had a car) to Zaisan Memorial; a World War II memorial.

The memorial is visible from most locations within central U.B. It stands on a hill and at its summit I had a beautiful view of all of U.B. U.B. is bordered by bright green grass and small mountains. In some places the slopes of the mountains look ideal to play golf. Since U.B. is surrounded by mountains it traps the pollution that is emmitted from factories and cars. And so at certain times of the year there is a terrible haze that hangs over the city.

After that Stina and I drove to the U.B. Guest House to pick up another friend I had meet on the train from Beijing. Her name was Roni and she was Israeli although she had a Russian background and had lived in Kazakhstan. The three of us headed to the Drama Theater to see a show displaying traditional Mongolian costumes, dances, acrobatics, music, and throat singing. One of the costumes that I saw was the clear inspiration of one of Princess Amidala's head dresses and make-up in the film Star Wars: Episode I. Certain dances gave the impression and feeling of horse riding. The throat singing was the most remarkable. I was complete amazed that the human body could produce such sounds.

After the show we all headed for drinks at a nearby restaurant/bar. I had chocolate milk. Stina's husband later joined us.

We talked a bit about the homeless kids in U.B. You will see throughout the streets of U.B. homeless Mongolian boys. Many of them chose to live a homeless lifestyle upon the streets of U.B. and within its sewers as a better alternative to the domestic violence they had experienced. Alcoholism is a major problem in Mongolia. It often results in drunk fathers beating their sons, daughters, and wives.

The homeless kids are harmless. They may approach you for some pocket change or to collect your empty plastic bottle which they will redeem at a recycling center for some money.

One thing of note that did happen to me and Clive was that we were both physically attacked by a drunk Mongolian man who demanded money. It immediately caused a sudden violent urge in all of us but a Mongolian boy held the man off. I believe the boy was the son of the drunk man.

July 15th in U.B.
On the 15th of July Roni and I met up with a two Israeli travelers who had traveled throughout India, Southeast Asia, and China. The told us about the travelers they had met in U.B. that had been assaulted after dark. In one case a traveler was beaten up by 5 Mongolian men and completely stripped of all his clothing except for his underwears.

On this day I went to Gandantegchinlen Khiid which is the largest and considered to be the most important Tibetan monastary in Mongolia. Somehow the temple survived the religious purges of the 1930's which resulted in the deaths of thousands of Mongolian Tibetan monks and the destruction of nearly every religious temple. There are about 150 monks living in the monastary. They were all dressed in Tibetan monk robes.

Before approaching the monastary I went around one of several prayer stations where you walk around a pillar spinning bronze cylinders that have prayers inscribed on them. The idea is that the prayer comes to life when in motion and ascends up to Heaven. I prayed for continued safe travels and thanked the gods and God for all the wonderful blessings that I had experienced in all the Asian countries I had traveled to.

That night I went to the train station to take my Trans-Mongolian train into Russian Siberia.

Of Note: I should mention that 70% of the population of U.B. (or is it Mongolia) is under the age of 30. Mongolia has a very low life expectancy rate.

Into Russian Siberia by Train
I shared my compartment with two English college students and a man with striking native American features (I believe he was a Mongol of Siberia). Our carriage was devoid of air conditioning and a fan. As we traveled north the vegetation changed from strikingly green to desert like.

From 6 in the morning on the 16th until perhaps 10:30 or so our train sat on the Mongolian/Russian border.   Since we were not moving no air was coming in. But it didnt matter. The air was warm and dreadful. In this heat did we sit waiting unable to use the washroom; the train attendants always shut the bathrooms before, during, and after arriving at a station. The reason for that is that they dont want human waste cluttering up the tracks at the station.

At 9:00 on the dot the Mongolian immigration officers came to my compartment and asked for our passports. About two hours after that the train departed and headed past the border into Russian Siberia. Again on the Russian side we had to wait in the train. This time for about 4 hours for all the Russian immigration officers board the train and to check all the passengers' passports and baggage. Once we had all cleared customs we were allowed to get off the train and wash up, change money, and eat some food.

I went to change my U.S. dollars for Russian rubles. This process took about 20 minutes. Several backpackers from my train had to wait in this line for this simple currency exchange procedure that took so much longer than necessary.

Once I got my rubles I went into a store that looked like a food store from 80 years ago - the shop owner used an abacus - and bought some drinks and some food.

The native American man who was in my compartment got off at the Russian border. And so for the rest of the journey it was just the British college guys and I. All day we rode the train until finally we arrived in Ulan Ude which was where the Brit's got off. I walked around the station for a bit and then we were off for Irkusk. Although on a map the distance between Ulan Ude and Irkusk seems short for some reason it took about 8 hours to get there. Since I had the compartment all to myself I stretched out and enjoyed the scenery. Then it was dark and I went to bed. During the night I felt rain hit my face but I paid very little attention to that.

Irkustk - After the Storm of the Century (July17th)
I arrived at the Irkutsk train station early in the morning. I was met with a friendly Russian college student who worked for Baikal Complex which is a travel agency associated with White Nights - the travel agency that arranged all of my Mongolian and Russian journey. He led me to a car and we then drove to Hotel Angara where I was able to change some more money.

He explained to me that a freak storm had attacked Irkustk the night before and that as a result 4 people were killed. The strong winds of the storm destroyed countless trees by up-rooting them and ripping off their branches. As a result as we drove through the city I saw streets covered with tree debris.

Irkutsk is a college town. In Siberia it is the most popular destination for college students to live and study in. As a result it has a very young population.

From Irkutsk we drove for about an hour south-east to Listvyanka which is a tiny little Russian town right on Lake Baikal. Again I was to stay in a hometay there.

The family I stayed with were incredibly kind and friendly with me. The family consisted of a strongly built linebacker of a father, a large loving mother, and a skinny and aloof son. I stayed in their son's room. In his room I stared at his Russian map that was dated from perhaps two decades ago. It revealed the Russian territories having control over all of Eastern Europe and into a few Stan nations in Central Asia. How things have changed.

I had a pleasant breakfast with the father who spoke the best English in the family. He was so kind. He explained that he had lived in Mongolia for two years during is Soviet military service. He explained how he and his friends would go fishing the rivers of Mongolia and how the Mongolians were perplexed to see them do it. He was wearing a heavily faded New York Giants T-shirt. When I asked him if he liked American football he gave a quizical look. He had no idea that the shirt he was wearing and had worn for countless years was of a U.S. football team.

For most of the day I walked up along the shores of Lake Baikal.

Lake Baikal in good old Siberia
Lake Baikal is the deepest lake in the world. Two tectonic plates are separting within the lake and so it hundreds of millions of years the two plates will continue to divide until it will become the fifth world's ocean. Currently it is 1,637 meters deep. Its width runs from 27 to 80 km. and in length it is 636 km. It as 23,000 cubic km of water. It possesses 20% of the world's fresh water. 3,500 species of plants and animals are to be found in and around the lake of which 2,600 are endemic (or only to be found here and nowhere else in the world).

The smell of the lake as well as seeing all the smoothly shaped stones that lined the shores of the lake reminded me very much of Chicago and good old Lake Michigan. The waters of the lake are incredibly clear and it is said that you can actually see 30 meters below.

At one end of a thin strip of beach along the lake I sat and watched locals drink and sun tan and bath. The waters of Lake Baikal are amazingly cold. One can not bare to swim within it for more than a few minutes. I did see a few people scuba diving in their wet suits though.

One thing that I was truck by now that the people I were seeing were no longer Asian but European was that the older Russian were huge. The older men were large and well-muscled and the older women were large and big-breasted. As for the younger men and women they were all thin and attractive. The women though all had what I called "scary eyes". Their eyes were a light almost grey blue. They (the eyes) looked like they belonged to a wild cat.

As I sat on the beach a completely drunk Russian man approached me and asked where I was from. I told him from the U.S. He welcomed me with a thick Russian accent, "Welcome. Drink Russian beer." He poured me a cup and together we drank. He chugged though on his bottle.

Later on he went swimming to relieve himself of the fact that he could barely stand.

It was a very relaxing day on the lake. I took a boat ride and sat with an American woman who was perhaps in her 60's. She had lived for most of her life in different countries teaching English. She had even lived in Afghanistan for 11 years! She said she was there "before, during, and after" Russian occupation. She was a bit too opinionated for my tastes though. She talked and talked about the amazing places she had been to in Siberia and how sad it was that I chose not to see them.

As I walked back to my homestay I was caught in the rain.

For dinner I had a fantastic Russian feast. What I loved most was how the pastries were displayed on a little silver platter.

July 18th in Irkutsk
I was picked up at around 11 and driven in a van to the train station. I the van was a couple from Holland and another from the U.S. At the train station we all dropped off our bags and with the American couple I took a taxi into town.

I spent the next few hours with this American couple. They were lovely. They were approaching the age of retirement and had been married for over 40 years or so. In their years together they had traveled to or sailed to over 100 countries. You name a nation and they probably had been there. The husband was very energetic and talkative. He would always watch over his wife. I could see that he cared for her deeply.

The made my day grand. It is so wonderful to see a married couple still in love and off to new adventures. I can go on and on about them. They are from Indiana.

As for Irkutsk I liked it. It is a small town but lined with wonderful buildings and wooden homes that are 80 years old or more.

Irkutsk is home to the descendents of elite or scholarly Russian exiles that served their time in Russian prisons and camps and when freed developed Irkutsk into a University town.

Domenick
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-23T08:42:00.000-07:00

The Trans-Mongolian Rail - July 10th (The trip from Beijing to Ulan Bator, Mongolia)

There is nothing more peaceful for a traveler to find himself on an overnight train to his next location. On a train you do not feel guilty to spend more hours than needed sleeping, or reading, or staring out your window. You are responsible to do absolutely nothing but relax and wait until you arrive to your next destination.

I left my hostel very early in the morning. If I remember correctly my train departed before 8 in the morning. I shared a taxi with an Australian from my hostel who was also taking the Mongolian rail.

We arrived at the train station to discover a mob of people gathered before it. Even at the ungodly early morning hours there are thousands of people gathered before the Beijing rail way station.

I shared my comparment with a German couple (they were perhaps in their 50's or 60's) and a young Mongolian man who would have rathered flown to Ulan Bator than take a train to it.

Nightfall came around 8 in the pm and although we had traveled by train for nearly 12 hours we had yet to arrive at the border.

The landscape that I saw at that time was completely flat and barren. It represented exactly what I imagined the Gobi portion of Mongolia to be like.

Outside that window of mine there was only land and sky. There is nothing made by man out there (excpet for the telephone pole that runs alongside the train tracks). There are no animals or birds to be seen as well.

Never had I seen so much open and untouched space before in all my life.

The land and sky is endless and timeless. I have entered into God's country.

July 11th - Into the Gobi Desert of Mongolia and beyond . . . Notes and Thoughts:
I woke up at 5:30 and looked out from my lofted bed and saw dessert. We must be traveling through the Gobi desert, I thought. I soon after went back to sleep.

At around 7:30 I woke up again and sat up to eat some crackers and tuna from a can. I then jumped down from my bed and looked out and saw the desert terrain but this time there were more patched of grass.

As the train continued I saw Mongolian gers (a traditional tent made of felt) literally in the middle of nowhere and herds of sheep or cows or horses in the far distance. At times I would see a rabbit dart away from the train.

By afternoon the terrain became more hilly and green; at times the landscape looked like sights I had seen in Ireland.

Out there beyond my windown was only the vast expanse of land and sky.

Once the train neared Ulan Bator the number of flowers and trees began to increase. As a result of this diversity of vegetation I could understand why Ulan Bator was located where it was.

I was met at the station by Altai and her driver. They worked for Tsolmon Travel which is in some way associated with White Nights - the travel agency I planned the Mongolian and Russian portion of my trip with. She was very nice and informative. Ske kept apologizing for the train I had to take a day later than originally planned. I insisted that she not worry about it.

After changing some money at a currency exchange that had a guard dressed plainly with a gun tucked into his pants we drove to the National Stadium to see a bit of the wrestling events taking place on the first day of the famed Nadaam Festival. Luckily we got into the stadium for free.

The Nadaam Festival celebrates the three manly sports of Mongolia. They are wrestling, horse riding, and archery. This celebration dates back thousands of years but the Nadaam Festival is tied to the Independence Day of Mongolia (I believe 1921 - although Mongolia really was under the strong influence of Russia from that time until the late 1980's to early 1990's). In the time of Chingis Khan and the centuries before the armies of the differing warlords of Monglia would engage in the competition of the three manly sports either before or after a battle.

While in the stadium observing the wrestling events one thing that I noticed about the Mongolian crowds was that both men and women were extremely pushy. They would literally stick out there hand and arm and shove people out of their way.

I also saw a drunk man pissing out in the open before everyone just outside the stadium.

It was apparent that if China has a very strong tobacco culture Mongolia sure as hell had a very strong alcohol culture. Open bottles of alcohol were everywhere. And stumbling drunk old men could be seen nearly every 10 meters.

After exiting the stadium Altai and I hopped back into her companies car and headed for Terelj National Park. While we drove east of Ulan Bator we could see storm clouds from the north approaching. Soon enough the rains hit us but only lasted for about 20 minutes. On the way to the National Park we stopped to pick up some fermented mare's milk at a traditional ger home. The mother within the home was preparing dinner. I saw her dunk an entire skinned goat's head into a vat of broth. As for the mare's milk it was fizzy - just like the todi drink I had had in Myanmar. It was very thin and light too. And it smells like vinegar sour dough.

The ger camp I was to spend two night in was located between rocky hills and small mountains. I was totally surrounded by the gardens of Heaven. It was so pleasantly quiet. In the distance though I could hear cows moan and men laughing within their ger homes.

Every step I took upon the grasses there I saw a vast number of grasshoppers jump away from me. And although I rarely sawy birds fly into the sky I always heard their chirpings.

The land in Mongolia is totally untouched by man. It is virgin land. Pure and lovely. This is truly God's country.

July 12th - More Mongolian Notes and Thoughts from my Journal Book . . .
. . . The women in Mongolia are beautiful. Some are voluptious while others are thin. Here is an example of a physical difference between different Asian groups. Japanese and Chinese women are not voluptious whereas Mongolian women and Southeast Asian women are voluptious . . .

Mountains . . .
At the summit of a mountain east of my camp I have found a terrain of boulders, skinny trees, grass, and flowers. Touches of yellow pollen mark the knees of my pants.

On my ascent I saw a score of grasshoppers jumping out of my path. They were all uniquely camoflaged. Some were as green as the grass they hid in. Others were pink and black making them nearly indistinguishable from the decaying rocks covered in moss.

The only sounds that I hear are the flies and horse flies. Yes, even in the most remote of locations of the world there are flies. The horse flies are incredibly big - bigger than the size of my thumb nail.

All around me I am surrounded by the glorious makings of nature. There are no leavings or marks of man. No foot prints or discarded rubbish. There are only butterflies and the constant creaking of critters within the grass.

I am totally alone - and at long last! There is no internet, no T.V., no jabber of human tongues. No commercials, no stores, no buildings, or streets.

I am far from all the makings of man. This is paradise for me, for anyone. I am truly blessed. Sitting here I can only think of those I have seen on my travels who I have left behind. Many are suffering, depressed, and lost. Many are striving for food, money, the western consumer idals that invade their homes and lives through the constant TV images that parade things that they really do not need.

These flies continue to swarm around me. Looking at them as they explore my ankle or goot I can see that they mean no harm. They are curious. They have probabaly never seen anything as unusual as me. They hop onto the pages of this book curious to explore what this magnificent white that I call a book page is.

Sitting hear I know that everything back in the "West" means very little. Prestigious offices, designer suits, cars, and the all the all that one wants is in the end . . . rubbish.

All the answers that one seeks in one's life can be found here in the untouched lands of Mongolia.

God protects this place - it is a last holy frontier.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-23T07:04:00.000-07:00

Beijing, China - July 1-9

What a relief it was to arrive in Beijing after two weeks of town and city hoping within central China. I was more than happy to see foreigners as well. Especially to be surrounded by them within my hostel. For the two weeks that I traveled from place to place within central China I for the most part was the only foreinger. Rarely did I ever see another traveler from exotic Western lands.

Beijing is not China. It does not represent in any shape way or form the type of people or ways of life that I came across in most places in China. Beijing is unique. It is a cosmopolitan city that is massive in size. And it is growing.

I befriended a guy named Rob from New York City at my hostel. It was his fourth time to Beijing and this time he was there to stay. We spent the first morning we met in a Chinese restaurant that had a bit of an Islamic flavour for breakfast. We talked mostly about politics and our strong, I mean strong, dislike of Bush and everything he had done in the past four years. Rob explained that he had seriously considered seeking refugee status so that he could gain Canadian citizenship.

Through Rob I discovered how much Beijing had changed in four years and how much it was going to continue to change. When he first arrived about 4 to 5 years ago there was no car traffic in the city. There were thousands of people riding bikes in all directions. Today you hardly see people riding bikes. But there are cars. 400,000 of them blocking up streets creating massive traffic jams. The car market is hot in Beijing. There is a strong middle class that is growing and a lot of new rich entrepreneurs cruising the streets in exotic cars such as the Hummer. As a result U.S., European, Japanese, and South Korean car manufacturers are anxious to keep breaking into the Chinese market to sell more and more of their carbon dioxide pumping machines. With the lack of regard that the Chinese have for the environment you can bet that in two decades time China will be the number one producer of Green House gases - putting the U.S. in second place. That is something we can all look forward to. No one cares (Western producers and Chinese consumers) about how the products that they produce or buy effects the environments of the future. Everyone now and in the years to come will be too busy buying and selling to make their millions in China. Then there will come the day when we all realize that China, a nation with over a billion people, has consumed too much and as a result is producing more waste than the third world nations that get dumped on with this waste can handle.

Rob went on in his talks expressing his disbelief of how many new buildings had popped up in the year and a half that he was away from China. It is truly apparent that international companies are setting up shop in China. The market is growing and every international corporate conglomerate wants a piece of the Chinese Yuan pie.

Beijing women are becoming more and more fashionable. On the the streets around Stanlitun (the street to party within bars and dance clubs) I saw Chinese woman dressed in designer clothing and sun glasses. They were all strutting their stuff catching the eyes of all men. But, although you may find yourself wondering if you are looking at a Tokyo girl or a Chinese girl there is definitely one thing that will set them apart. The fine and undying Chinese art of spitting. There is nothing more disturbing to see and hear than a Chinese Beijing woman dressed all sexy and cool to then cough and hack up a bucket load of phlem to spit on the ground. Yucky yuck.

July 2nd I spent relaxing with Rob and his partner in crime GQ. GQ is Canadian and also very fashionable in dress and style. Rob and GQ are pretty much opposites in the Rob could care less about his appearance whereas GQ can only think about it at all hours of the day. Rob and GQ met each other about three years ago at the International Youth Hostel. They were in a dorm room together and eventually decided to get their own double room to share.

As the three of us sat outside Starbucks sipping our elaborately named coffee's and people watching I listened to all the misadventures that Rob and GQ had on their expeditions into Stanlitun to seek and devour Chinese women.

As for the men in Beijing. Well, compared to the women I would have to say that they really dont spend that much time and effort on their appearance - which is cool. Instead the spend most of their time spitting and smoking. Cigarettes aboud everywhere in China. You cannot find a single street corner that is devoid of a kiosk dedicated to the sole sale of cigarrettes. And the cigarrettes sold at these kiosks are not just any type of cigarette. No, no, no. They are what I like to call gourmet cigarette's. They come in beautiful red boxes with gold borders. They make a great gift for any Chinese friend. Yes, the smokers culture is very alive and well in China. That is an irony since cigarettes dont cause people to be alive and well for too long.

Nearly every evening during my stay in Beijing I spent in the lounge TV area of my hostel. I passed up time and time again going out on the drink with some of the friends I had made in the hostel. What attracted me to my nights in the lounge were the pirated movies that were being played. It had been some time since I had watched a movie and so I was catching up. I saw a badly taped pirated DVD of Spider Man II (3.5 stars - definitely enjoyed the comedy bits in the flick), Michael Moore's Farenheit 911 (3.5 stars - great stuff for the average American who doesnt have the time to pick up a Chomsky book), The Human Stain (1 star - wasnt in the mood to see a movie like this), The Italian Job (3.5 stars - fantastic heist movie), The Last Samurai (2.5 stars - cool movie but after living in Japan and having felt like I recognized the story line from The Last of the Mohicans and Dances with Wolves I didnt really like this movie all too much, plus Im sick of Tom Cruise) and Along Came Polly (3 stars - I loved what I saw of this movie but the pirated version of this was all scratched up so it kept skipping).

July 3rd - The Great Freakin Wall
I decided to take the tour offered at the hostel to the Great Wall. I met a wonderful group of people in the minivan. It took about three hours to get to the wall and so we all had plenty of time to talk. There was an American teacher in the van who was traveling with his two kids. He was a wonderful father. I could see that he loved taking his kids to all parts of the world on adventures and schemes.

The most popular part of the wall to see from Beijing is Badaling. Dont go there. From what I heard it looks more like a Disneyland Epcot version of the Great Wall than anything else. In any case the sections of the wall that you will see here are not original. So what is the point of seeing something that's fake?

The section of the wall my group went to was Simatai. The 19 km of wall at Simatai is crumbling. In some parts it looks like a total ruin - barely recognizable as a wall - well Im exageratting there.

The minivan dropped us all off in a remote farming village. Locals walked up to us google-eyed wondering from what planet we had dropped in from. Again, Im exagerating. The locals here are poor and simple but they have definitely seen their share of foreigners. They quietly tried to sell their Great Wall T-shirts and hats to us.

From the village we trecked up the heavy vegetation of the surrounding hills. We hiked up until we made view of the Great Wall. It was magnificent. Up we went until we were able to enter into the wall from an opening within it. From there we hiked east I believe. I kept a speedy pace. About a half hour into my pace I realized that I had completely left my group behind. And that was nice. I traveled the length of the wall in solitude. Yes, I had the Great Wall all to myself. The wall is simply composed of walls and towers. I would walk for a bit and then stretch my legs up to ascend into the next tower. The steps were incredibly steep. Then from the tower I would look out its slit windows and then descend its steps to walk along the wall again. Part of the wall were in total ruin. And that was wonderful to see. It was along these parts that I could see and feel for myself the tremendous age of the wall. The wall is about 2,000 years old.

There is no denying how impressive the wall is. One can only imagine the hundreds of thousands of men and women that slaved and died to build the wall to keep the Mongols of the north at bay. It seems though that this is a common theme in China. Labor is plentiful and cheap in China. With a massive army of cheap labor a dynasty or tyranny can make amazing and stupid structures like a long wall or huge masoleum for an Emperor. And this is still the case today. China will grow in this century to become a powerhouse economy. Western companies are rushing to build their factories in China because the number of poor ignorant labor is vast in China. It is common knowledge in all part of Asia, from Korea, to Japan, to Mongolia, to Siberia, that Chinese laborers are cheap, cheap, cheap.

After sweating and hiking and trying to out-pace a tout or two along the wall - they were trying to sell me frozen bottles of water and postcards - I rested near a wire bridge. I drank my drink and waited for my group to arrive.

When the rest of the group arrived I began speaking with a Canadian couple of latin background who were nearly done with their 13 month trip around the world. They were a wonderful couple. It is always a pleasure to see love in all its forms ;)

In the evening a few of the guys and I from the Great Wall group went out for dinner to treat ourselves to some Chinese beer and Peking duck. It was a festive evening of manly jokes and the occasional burp.

July 5th - The Forbidden City's Starbucks
I went to the Forbidden City in the morning with Scott from the U.S. and another friend from the hostel who was from Scotland. He left early so that we could see Mao in his Mausoleum but when we arrived at the southern end of Tiananmen Square we eventually discovered that the mausoleum was closed (its closed on Mondays). We then proceeded north through the Square in search of the Memorial dedicated to the Tiananmen Massacre that took place about 14 years ago. We looked and looked and to our surprise we realized that there is no memorial - Im joking I hope you realize about us seriously looking for this memorial. Yes, as far as the Chinese Communist government is concerned the Tiananmen Massacre pretty much didnt happen.

The Sqaure is massive. It is impressive. At night you will see families and kids walking or running about throughout the square. Some kids are playing soccer whereas others are playing badminton.

Mao's Mausoleum is incredibly large. Of the three mausoleums dedicated to dead and frozen Communist leaders (Ho Chi Ming, Mai, Lenin) Mao's is the largest. To the north of the mausoleum is the Momument to the People's Hero's and north of that is the southern gate that leads to the Forbidden City. It is on this gate where hangs the large portrait of Mao.

The Forbidden City is just that, a city. Walking in and exploring the grounds you feel like you really are within a city. The city covers 78 acres. Its construction began in 1421 - the same year a massive fleet of Chinese ships set sail to navigate the world. They beat Columbus to the New World - but of course western history books forget to mention that. Supposedly there are 9,999 rooms in the city. One could spend a lifetime exploring all the chambers and buildings and rooms of the Forbidden City. It is simply to large to cover in a day. What is not so pleasing to see visually though is the lack of trees in the vast public areas of the Forbidden City. The city seems to be totally devoid of anything plant life. Not even a single blade of grass can be found. There are several throne chambers and temples that we saw. All of these structures were accompanied by a large sign that detailed the history of it in English and Chinese. All these signs were "Brought to you by American Express." Amazing how American capitalism has found its way into the Forbidden city.

And speaking of that can you believe that there is a Starbucks in the Forbidden City! Im not joking. This is another fine and very digusting example of how nothing is sacred in China. Yet, again it seems the Chinese are more than willing to sell their cultural soul for a lousy buck. Scott took a few photo's of me within the Forbidden City giving the middle finger to Starbucks.

The three of us though did find and walk into a few enclosed structures within the Forbidden City that did have beautiful trees and gardens. So, there is plant life in the Forbidden City but it is kept away and in secret from the massive public spaces of the massive complex.

After exiting the Forbidden City from its northern gate there is the Jingshan Park. A climb up its Scenic Mountain reveals a wonderful view of the Forbidden City and of Beijing itself. The hill is actually artificial. It is made up of all the scooped out earth that made the moat that surrounds the Forbidden City. At the top of the hill sits a Buddhist temple.

From there guys and I decided to give into one of three bicycle rickshaw drivers that begged us to employ their services. After a bit of time bargaining for a price the three of us squeezed into the back seat of the bicycle rickshaw. To be totally honest it must have looked totally pathetic to anyone who saw us to see three healthy young men sitting nearly on top of each other in the back of a frail bicycle rickshaw being peddled by an nearly dead elderly man. Not, proud of that. No, no, no.

July 6th - Mao's Dead Body (Number 2 of the Collect all 3 Dead Communist Leader Happy Meal Set)
Scott and I as well as our friend from Scotland whose name Im sorry to say I forgot got up early again to make our way to Mao's Mausoleum. We took a bus to a nearby subway location and then took the subway. The subway in Beijing is quiet good and cheap but it is not extensive and so you will inevitably end up taking a cab or a bus to get to one of its nearly remote subway stops.

When we got to the southern end of Mao's Mausoleum we were immediately struck with the incredble line formed out front of it. We approached it seeking the end of the line so that we could get in line. We searched and searched following the line to the point that we began to run because it was simply taking to long to find the end of the line. Finally, after about running for 5 minutes or so we found the end of the line and qued up. We waited in line for about an hour and 15 minutes. It is simply amazing to know that everyday (except Mondays) tens of thousands of people line up to see Mao's dead body.

As for seeing Mao's dead body. It went by pretty quick and to be honest I wasnt impressed. Or I should say not as impressed as I was with Ho Chi Minh's dead body. Ho Chi Minh's body rests within a dark chamber that is solemn and quiet. 4 guards are to the four points of his glass casket. With Mao the room his body is in has a bit more light. His body is not guarded by 4 guards like Ho Chi Minh's and you can only walk to one side of him. With Ho Chi Minh you can walk to three sides of his casket. Mao's body is blanketed with a Red flag with the Russian hammer and sickle on it.

July 7th - Refer to my Culture Shock Blues in the Middle Kingdom Journal Entry
I wanted to go out and see the Summer Palace today. But before doing so I wanted to withdraw some Chinese RMB from Citibank and change it into U.S. dollars. That was impossible to do. I can go on and on about how pissed off I was about this bureacratic banking bullsh*t in China but I will not because I pretty much cover it in my Culture Shock Blues journal entry. As a result of this I spent the entire day running all over Beijing trying to find a way to change my Chinese RMB to U.S. dollars. At the end of the day I ended up extremely pissed off, and unable to change my money. I didnt get to go to the Summer Palace as a result.

July 8th - The Money Changing Drama continues
I spent the morning and early afternoon going to a few other banks trying to buy U.S. dollars. Time and time again I heard that I could not do so without a specific form which I did not have. As a last result I took a bus to the airport. There again I found that I could not legally change my Chinese RMB for U.S. dollars.

And so I was left with going to extreme measures. I became an illegal money changer within the black market. I solicited new arrivals in the airport outside the money exchange tellers and sold my Chinese RMb for U.S. dollars at an unbeatable rate (I lost money as a result). Luckily I didnt get arrested.

I needed U.S. dollars for my Trans-Mongolian rail trip. I couldnt buy Mongolian togroots or Russian rubles in China and so I needed plenty of U.S. dollars to last me into Mongolia and Russia.

After illegally changing all my Chinese RMB at the airport I had time to make a run for the famed Temple of Heaven.

The Temple of Heaven
The Temple of Heaven is located far south of Tiananmen Square. It is located in a huge park and it was here that the Chinese emperor conducted some of the most important rites and ceremonies. These religious practices established his link to the Heavens and to the gods.

I spent my time here simply relaxing. I walked from one temple to the other watching families and travelers pose for photo's. I eventually found a pleasant spot within a stone door frame and watched a Chinese woman go through the subtle movements of Chi-gung; a Chinese practice of cultivating Chi (the life force) from the heavens and the earth into your body for healing purposes.

July 9th - the Last of the Full Days in Beijing
Today was stock up on train provisions day and so forth. I bought what dried foods I needed for my trip into Mongolia, and ran a few other errands. I also reserved some time to go to the internet and catch up on the journal but Hotmail was complete down at the time that I went. And so my trip to the internet cafe was totally in vain :(

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-22T11:06:00.000-07:00

Tai Shan and Me - June 29th

High on the sacred mountain
Up the seven thousand stairs
In the golden light of autumn
There was magic in the air.

Clouds surrounded the summit
The wind blew strong and cold
Among the silent temples
And the writings carved in gold
Somewhere in my instincts
The primitive took hold.

I stood at the top of the mountain
And China sang to me
In the peaceful haze of harvest time
A song of eternity.

If you raise your hands to heaven
You will live a hundred years
I stood there like a mystic
Lost in the atmosphere.

The clouds were suddenly parted
For a moment I could see
The patterns of the landscape
Reaching for the eastern sea.
I looked upon a presence
Spanning forty centuries.

I thought of time and distance
The hardships of history
I heard the hope and the hunger
When China sang to me.

These words were written my Neil Peart of the progressive rock group RUSH. When I was in high school and learning the craft of drums RUSH for me was the best musical ensemble in the world. I highly idolized Neil Peart as not only a skilled drummer but a master of the craft of words. From him began my desire to write and so here I am writing and writing with a finished book beneath my belt.

Neil's lyrics became an anthem for many of my beliefs and philosophies. Through him I sought to travel, read, and write. Through him I realized that I did not want to just be a drummer. I wanted to be a philosopher, poet, traveler, and source of inspiration for others.

It was from the song Tai Shan and its lyrics that my wonder for the East began. As the years passed in high school the more attracted did grow toward Zen Buddhism, Chinese philosphy, and the martial arts of the East - particularly the art of sword and the way of the samurai.

It had been a long desire of mine to climb up Tai Shan mountain in homage of Neil Peart who had made the ascent in the 1980's. And so on the morning of the 29th I awoke to finally fulfill this sort of adolescent dream.

I began my ascent at 6:11 in the morning and arrived at the summit at 8:30. I expected the ascent to take me about four hours but I did it in just over two hours. I relaxed at the summit for about an hour. I found the summit to be heavily touristy. I avoided all the sites and sounds of the tourists and the shops and temples that catered to them by retreating to a quiet mountain top that was far and away from everyone. There at this spot did I look over the surrounding clouds and cloudy sky. It was pleasantly cool. I sweated like a dog on the ascent. I sat in quiet and - you could say - meditated. And then I prayed. I prayed to the spirit grandfathers Papa Leo and Italo as well as a few other family members of mine who rest in the heavens above. I thanked God for the blessing and adventures that I had had in my life in Japan. And in a way I said goodbye to my life in the East. Climbing Tai Shan for me represented the milestone end of my nearly 4 years of exile in the East. It was now time for me to return to where I truly belong . . . the West.

Tai Shan - A History Lesson
Tai Shan is the holiest of the five Taoist mountains in China. An ascent to the top is considered to be a spiritual journey by the Chinese. It is a pilgrimage. Tai Shan is 5,000 feet high and is composed of 6,660 steps; these stone stepes were all painstakingly placed by hand. An ascent of the mountain is required of all devote Taoists. And it is said that those who reach its summitt will live for a hundred years.

From the base of the mountain I came across an army of elderly men and women who made it their daily morning exercise routine to climb perhaps a 10th of the steps of the mountain. I was very impressed with their devotion to the maintenance of their physical health.

Along my journey I came across Chinese teenagers, families, and couples. It was very odd for me to see Chinese men and women dressed conservatively in their dress pants and shoes and shirts and dressed. They were not exactly wearing the most appropriate clothes for ascending a mountain. Everyone was sweating and panting. Men rolled up their dress pants to their knees and hiked up their dress shirts to rest around their plump Buddha bellies.

I guess it is more important for the Chinese to look good and dress respectfully when climbing Tai Shan ;)

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

June 30th - ze Train to Beijing
I had a terribly amount of time to kill today. My train for Beijing was not to depart until 10:30. I spent the day trying to find an internet cafe but with no luck. And so I walked and walked and walked around town finding more grey and depressed buildings and a market in an old completely unlit abandoned industrial warehouse. It would have been perfect to have seen a movie today but no I did not find a suitable movie theater. Pirated DVD's seemed to have killed the movie goer culture here.

In the late evening I returned to my hotel and read my book. When it was time I grabbed a taxi and made off for the train station. Along the drive I saw an internet cafe! The cafe was just of from a corner I had passed repeatedly. I damned myself for not walking down that street. I could have gotten a lot of digital journal writing done.

July 1st - Arrival in Beijing
I arrived in the early morning in Beijing. It was cloudy and cool outside. From the train station I walked to a major hotel that supposedly had a hostel within it. I approached the hotel and discovered that the hostel had moved. Yet, again my guide book had failed me. As soon as I left the hotel and made out in the direction of the hostel I was approached by an old Chinese bicycle rickshaw man. I told him the name of the hostel and he said that he knew where it was. I hopped into the rickshaw and away we went. We eventually stopped at a guest house but they were full. From there the rickshaw driver peddled to another guest house. It was too pricey for me. I repeatedly asked the rickshaw driver to take me to the hostel I had mentioned earlier. From then on we began to argue - basically he said that the had taken me to the hostel I wanted to go to and I didnt believe him. I then jumped into a taxi and as we drove north I saw a sign the hostel that I wanted to go to and realized that it was down the street that the rickshaw driver had taken me. He was right . . . and I was wrong.

Well, interestingly enough the taxi driver and I drove around Beijing for an hour trying to find a cheap hostel. We finally ended up at the International Youth Hostel just behind the five star Great Dragon Hotel. I took my bag and ran into the hostel to see if they had room. They said they didnt know. I decided that I would just wait until the figured out if they did or not. I then ran back out to pay the taxi driver and saw that he was gone. I asked the guard to the hotel where the taxi had gone and he explained that the taxi had left.

Strange, I got a free ride in a taxi for an hour in Beijing! I guess the gods wanted to help me out a bit. I felt bad though. Of all the hellish taxi drivers I had experienced in China this one in particular was the nicest. He kept running out and back into his taxi asking various people on the street about where a certain hostel was and so forth. He deserved his pay and a handsome tip. But he left before I ever had the chance to pay him.

Well, tomorrow I will sit down and write about Beijing. I was there for about 9 days. And so I have a bit to tell.

Until then . . . good night ;)
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-22T09:05:00.000-07:00

The Longmen Caves, China - June 25th
It took me just over an hour by bus to reach the Longmen Caves from Luoyang. The caves are all located along both sides of the Yi River. There are literally hundreds of caves, most man-made, that are filled with carved statues of various Buddhas and bodhisattvas. The caves were created over a 600 year period. The first of the caves were carved in 493 A.D.

It took me about two hours to see all of the caves; although it felt much longer than that since the afternoon sun wore me done completely. The most impressive cave is the Ancestor Worshipping Cave. The central Buddha statue is about 55 feet tall and it is flanked by boddhisattvas and guardians on both of its sides. The Cave of the Ten Thousand Buddhas literally did have ten thousand little Buddhas carved into the cave walls. Each Buddha was about the size of my thumb or so.

There were countless other caves.  Most were high up the mountain slopes but accessible by staircases. What is sad to see is that most of the caves have been severly damaged.  Many of the Buddhas are headless. Antique collectors severed these heads while other anti-Buddha individuals (Communists) slashed the faces of others. It is simply sad too see that these wonderful works of religious devotion have suffered from varying forms of sacrilege over the centuries.

In total there are about 1,400 caves, 2,800 inscriptions, and about 100,000 statues.

Dengfeng and the Shaolin Tourist - June 26th
I was more than happy to finally leave Luoyang. Luoyang culturally did not have much to offer me. Again, Luoyang was another example of a city in China devoid of Chinese culture, history, and tradition. As you have read and will read about my experiences through out China I found myself continually disappointed with each town that I found. Each town was bland and devoid of any sense of creative expressive urge. Restaurants were uniform and terribly boring in interior decor. People seemed to dress the same as well; Beijing and Shanghai are exceptions - of course. The other thing that continually bothered me was that there are so many freakin barbershops and hair salons in every town I visited but yet everyone's hair style was the same. You would think that with the vast number of small businesses dedicated to hair maitenance that there would be a certain degree of variety in hair colorings and styles. But, no everyone settled for the same average hair style.

That all aside I left my hotel in Luoyang and headed for the bus station that was literally across the street. There I got my bus ticket for Dengfeng. One thing of note about travel via bus in China is that there are sleeper buses for long distance journeys. These buses are filled with beds and bunk beds were travelers spend their journey laying down as opposed to sitting up in a chair. It was the first time in my life to see such a curious looking form of bus transport.

In any case I bought my ticket and with a bit of guidance from a bus station employee found my bus.

The journey was about 3 hours. I was the only foreigner on the bus and as expected in China I drew quiet a few stares and Im sure I was the topic of a few speculative conversations in the bus. Since I was headed to Dengfeng (a town made popular due to its close location to the famed Kung-Fu Shaolin Temples) Im sure a few Chinese in my bus thought that I was going to try to get into one of the many, many Kung Fu academies around Dengfeng to train and see if I had what it took to become a Kung Fu master. Well, that was not why I was going to Dengfeng. I was going to simply pay my respects to a Zen tradition that I had once been apart of.

For nine months after my graduation from Boston University I lived at the Shim Gwang Sa which is a Korean Zen Temple near Boston. You can check their website at www.shimgumdo.org. I lived as a Zen Buddhist monk in this temple studying and pursuing the Art of Zen Sword or Mind Sword. This unique Buddhist tradition of combining meditative compassionate arts with the martial arts began in the Shaolin Temple in the 6th century A.D.

My Zen Master at the Shim Gwang Sa was taught by Dae Sung Sa Nim (spelling?) who is an internationally and highly regarded Zen Master in South Korea. Dae Sung Sa Nim is a Zen Master who is descended in a direct line of teaching that stretches all the way back to Bodhidharma - the Indian sage responsible for founding Zen Buddhism in East Asia.

The bus dropped me off just outside the small town of Dengfeng. I grabbed a taxi and pointed out a guest house in my guide book. He called out is overpriced charge for the short journey and I agreed. When we arrived at the guest house I saw that it had been totally abandoned about a year ago; this would be a constant theme for me for the rest of my journey, to find that most of the guest houses in my Lonely Planet China Guide Book had already gone out of business or simply disappeared. My taxi driver then took me to a very "posh" hotel called the Shaolin Hotel. I got out of my hotel and checked in paying about $35 or so for one night. This hotel is extremely expensive by Chinese standards and was a budget buster for me but I had very little choice in this tiny town.

While I was checking into my hotel at the front desk a bus arrived unloadind an army troop of large overweight American Kung Fu martial artists. It was a sight to see and Im sure extremely amusing for the Chinese in the lobby of the hotel who saw them. It was obviously apparent to all that these Americans seemed to place more emphasis on size and muscle in the pursuit of their martial art than in speed and dexterity. Hands down I would place my money on a small skinny Chinese martial artist beating the living crap out of a large, bulky American martial artists.

I laughed at these Americans who sounded like they were from Jersey and took the elevator up to my "posh" hotel room.

After checking out the view of one of the five sacred Taoist mountains in China outside my hotel window I returned to the lobby and arranged for a taxi. What I got was a mini-van piloted by a Chinese woman. The agreed upon price for the journey to the Shaolin Temple was 20 RMB. As we drove she kept pointing to pictures of sights around Dengfeng. I eventually gave into a picture of a temple - supposedly the first nunnery in China. We pulled in and I bought my ticket and went into the unimpressive nunnery. I walked up from one small temple to the next finding within them depressed looking Buddhist nuns who were all busy picking and digging into their noses or looking at their gooie fingers at their slimey finds. Yum. As I tried to find anything of sincere interest within the nunnery I overheard British kids in the distance complaining, "Another temple. When the bloddy hell will we see Shaoilin?" It was then that I decided to leave the nunnery and go to Shaoling immediately.

My female taxi driver took me to Shaolin and charged me an extra 20 RMB for the nunnery excursion. I paid and got out to buy my ticket into the Shaolin temple. After I bought my ticket I saw the same female taxi driver waiving at me to get into her mini-van. It seemed that she wanted to drive me past the gates to the various locations that surround the Shaolin temple. I, I dont know why, decided to hop back into her van. We drove past the gates and soon parked the car. She then led me to an auditorium to see a live performance of Kung-Fu kids doing unbelievable martial feats. The annoying thing was though that as soon as I pulled out my 50 RMB bill to pay for my ticket which cost about 20 RMB she took it out of my hand and led me from one ticket personnel to another. She kept jabbering in Chinese with each ticket personnel. I finally realized that she was trying to negotiate with the ticket personnel to screw me out of my 50 RMB. I then snatched my money away from her and walked away. She followed but realized that I was pissed off and that she should probably stay away.

That experience sort of ruined my experience at Shaolin. That coupled with the fact that I was terribly dissapointed to find that the sacred grounds of the Shaolin temple was little more than a heavily touristy Disneyland. Again I felt like nothing in China was sacred. It seems the Chinese are simply overly eager to sell their own cultural souls for a lousy buck. In all directions around the temple of Shaolin and the other temple near it there are souvenir stalls and Chinese Kung Fu students giving demonstrations. I wonder what the old abbots of Shaolin would think. They would surely be shocked to find that the long kept secrets of the martial skills and techniques that had been passed for generation after generation was all for show to paying tourists. How sad. Really, how pathetically sad. As a result I do not recommend to anyone to see Shaolin at all.   Skip that on your trip to China. Go rent a stupid Kung Fu movie instead.

Well, to get away from all of this I decided to take a detour and venture up a high mountain to see and pay my respects to Bodhidharma. Legend has it that when Bodhidharma arrived at Shaolin from India he was rejected from the temple. As a result he climbed up a nearby mountain and settled into a tiny cave to pray for 9 years. As a result the monks of Shaolin were so impressed with Bodhidharma that they invited him into their temple. From then on Bodhidharma taught the monks of Shaolin a series of physical exercises to go along with their long meditative sittings. From here developed the art of Kung Fu.

The climb up to Bodhidharma's cave was exhausting but pleasant. As I ascended I would rest, buy a bottle of cold water from a local, and look back at the wonderful mountain scenery. It took me about an hour to ascend the mountain and to reach the cave. I was very content to sit within Bodhidharma's cave and pay my respects to him. Within the cave there was a boy who was guardian of it. We spoke in broken English and written Chinese - I had the chance to show off the Japanese characters that I had learned in Japan that were the same as Chinese characters.

From there I descended and near the base of the mountain I met up with a few Chinese boys who were all students of Kung Fu. Together we walked to the Forest of Dagobas which is a sort of cemetery of dagobas that are each dedicated to a specific Shaolin monk. Within this cemetery the boys and I stood in various Kung Fu poses for tourists who took pictures of us. I know the Chinese tourists in particular got a kick out of me - a foreigner - posing in funny Kung Fu martial moves with these Chinese Kung Fu students.

And that was the end of that.

What was amazing to see on the taxi ride back to Dengfeng were the thousands and thousands (literally thousands) of Chinese Kung Fu students (all boys and young men) outside in the courtyards of their respective Kung Fu academies training together their kata's (that's Japanese for a series of martial movements) and weaponry.

Literally, these academies have armies of children training hard in the age-old martial arts of Shaolin.

Zhengzhou - another freakin Chinese town - June 27th
After breakfast I went for a walk around Dengfeng in the hopes of finding CITS. CITS is a national travel agency in China. They are quiet good to use. But, I could not find them in town. Again, my travel guide book failed me ;(

I checked out of my hotel and then took a taxi to the travel agency and bought a bus ticket easily to Zhengzhou. The bus was nice and clean - luckily on this bus no one was spitting on the floor. The ride took about 3 hours.

After arriving in Zhengzhou I went to the train station lugging my massive back pack and inquired into a train ticket to Jinan. I found that there was no hard sleeper tickets and that the only tickets available were for a hard seat. I passed and went to look for a guest house. Using my guide book I tried to find a hotel that was supposed to be infront of the train station but never found it. Instead I ended up in one of the scariest hotels I have ever been in. It was on the third floor of a delapitated building where the hallway ceiling was falling apart and the carpet wet and moldy. My hotel room was dingy and the bathroom lit by a flickering light bulb. There was a TV in my room but it didnt work and there was no air conditioner - that could be dangerous with some of the extremely hot days that I had experienced in China. After going out and exploring Zhengzhou I decided that I really had no desire to stay in the city. It simply was another city with millions of people with no cultural sights of significance. Again I found myself wondering, China, a land of over 5,000 years of history, but yet where the hell is all this history?

And so I returned to the train station and bought a ticket for Jinan. Yes, it was a hard seat ticket. That meant that I had to sit up right in a hard seat in a crowded train for about 7 hours during the night. I was not looking forward to the train trip but I was not looking forward to spending the night in the scary hotel room either and so I prepared myself for my train journey.

The train departed around 9 I believe. The hard seat carriage was packed with people. I, luckily, had a seat. I sat watching all the families and individuals who were standing in the aisle. They were going to have to stand throughout the night for hours and hours before arriving to their destination. Before getting on the train I was a bit worried. I had read that day in my guide book about the robberies that took place on night trains in the hard seat carriages. Supposedly various Chinese gangs take over these carriages and force passengers to pay up money or get hurt. But, after an hour from leaving from Zhengzhou I knew I was in good company. I spent most of the journey speaking to two Chinese men who were sitting before me. They were very kind and I knew that if anything was to happen to me that they would help me.

One of these men decided to read my palm. He took it and said the following:

Yes . . . work is good . . . work is good. You will do very well in your career. Yes . . . yes . . . your health. Take care your health. Eat more vegetable than meat. Dont eat meat. Only a little. Yes . . . you have pain in your knees and your lower back. Take care. Yes . . . your health. Take care of your health. You need to sleep more. You sleep little.   Sleep 8 hours. 9 hours. Yes . . . you get angry. A lot of anger comes out of you . . . perhaps once a month this anger comes out.

I agreed with most of what he said. But, I was surprised to hear about my anger. I didnt think that was true. But, funny enough an example of this anger of mine was to reveal itself the next morning.

June 28th - Arriving in Tai-An as opposed to Jinan
The two Chinese men explained that it was better for me to get off the train at Tai-An than at Jinan if I wanted to climb Taishan mountain. This advice saved me an hour of discomfort on the train. I arrived in Tai-An very early in the morning.

As soon as I exited the train station I was met with a young taxi driver. Perhaps my age or so. I pointed out the guest house I wanted to go to when I got into his taxi. He kept shaking his head and explaining that the guest house was closed. I pointed to my eye trying to convey the desire that I wanted to see if the guest house was really closed with my very own eyes. I didnt trust him. In fact I - after three weeks in China - didnt trust a damn person. He drove me to a clearly abandoned building and said that that was the guest house I wanted to go to. Something unexplainable then erupted within me. I suddenly found myself yelling and cursing at the taxi driver. I could not remember when the last time I had vented so much anger at anyone. The taxi driver was scared. He then pleaded that he was not lying. I then calmed down and looked carefully at the Chinese characters on the building and realized that indeed it was the guest house I wanted to go and that indeed it was closed. Yet, again my guide book failed me. The taxi driver then did his best to find me a cheap hotel. We went to one hotel and I rejected it because I didnt want to pay that much. We went to a second and he negotiated a lower price for me with the lady at the reception desk. He then asked for his fare which was actually low and left. After checking into my room and realizing that I got a bargain for such a spacious and nice room I felt horrible for screaming at the taxi driver. He was a nice kid and actually helped me out considerably.

After going to sleep and waking up before noon I went in search of a bank to change my Japanese Yen for Chinese RMB. After that I went in search of a restaurant. I tried to find the one's recommended in my guide book but no luck. I finally gave up and simply walked into a random Chinese restaurant. I couldnt read anything on the menu and so I walked with the waitress to other people's tables and pointed to what other people were eating. The Chinese staf and customers found this amusing. I received massive plates of food about 20 minutes later. I couldnt make a dent into these piles of tofu and God knows what else. I ate as much as I could and still found a massive pile of slop on my plates. I had two Coke's as well and paid the bill. The bill was very, very cheap.

From the restaurant I tried to find an internet cafe recommended in my guide book. Again I found that it had disappeared. Yes, my guide book failed me. From there I went to a large temple/fortress located somewhat in the center of town. Im afraid that I forgot the name of the temple. Since I was going to climb Tai Shan mountain the next day it was important for me to stop at this temple and seek blessings for my ascent. From the temple I could barely see Tai Shan. It was a cloudy day. But rehardless I enjoyed the pleasant gardens and twisted and very ancient cider trees within the temple.

Domenico Composto
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-15T01:50:00.000-07:00

Culture Shock Blues in the Middle Kingdom

He was sitting at a plain table on the 4th floor of a Beijing shopping mall. And he was angry. He wa so full of anger that a small confrontation with an aggravated Chinese citizen would have easily provoked him to scream and even, perhaps, begin a fist fight that would have quickly resulted with him wrestling with his opponent on the ground until either he won or was defeated or arrested by the Beijing police.

Where did this anger come from?

A combination of things. Beijing bureacracy, rules and regulations concerning the exchange of Chinese RMB for U.S. dollars was one. It took him all afternoon and evening of one day and all morning and early afternoon of the next day to simply find a meansto buy U.S. dollars with the large amount of Chinese RMB that he had withdrawn from a Citibank ATM. He had accomplished the task illegally. He sold his RMB by being a black market tout soliciting newly arrived foreigners who were standing in lineat one of 3 Chinese bank tellers at the Beijing International Airport.
As he sold his RMB bit by bit he dared in his mind for his arrest. He wanted to be provoked into an arguement, a fight to vent and release all of his pent up traveling anger. The police at the airport would have been a perfect excuse to finally explode with little care of being dragged to a Beijing prison or court. He did not care, he was being foolish, reckless, apathetic, and angry.
The other reasons came from a series of discomforts and annoyances since his departure from Xi'an. Although he often complained to those who could understand his native tongue that he had yet to experience culture shock in China it was simply apparent to all that the complaints themselves were an obvious sign that he was culture shocked, and in a very bad way.

After arriving in Luoyang after a 7 hour train journey on a hard sleeper in which he saw 3 power plants along the way he checked into a hotel. The hotel was one of several recommended in his guide book. He had a bit of difficulty finding the hotel and cursed his poorly xeroxed pirated guide book that he had bought in Vietnam for his inability to quickly find the hotel.
The hotel itself represented everything that he was beginning to hate about China. You could say that after his three and a half years in Japan he was simply seeing China through the eyes of a Japanese.

In his eyes and mind China was a filthy place where men and women drew in a horrifically loud breath before spitting on the ground. The spat anywhere regardless of whether the ground was public or private.

After taking a shower in his room he decided to make a list of all the things he found incredibly foul about China.

List of things that I hate about China:
Annoyances
1 - dried snot on my hotel room walls. what the f*&k? why cant people here use a handkerchief instead of blowing out the innards of their nose into the air and ground, or walls of my hotel room for that matter?
2 - the ground is a garbage bin. everyone throws their trash on the ground, into the street, on the floor, carpet, whatever. bus drivers throw their empty plastic drink bottles out their window. pedestrians throw their plastic bags and unfinished foods on the ground. men in hotels spread their cigarette ash all over the carpet - carpets in all buildings are full of cigarette burns, they are filthy and disgutsting. people blow their noses straight onto the ground. kids with their slit pants piss on the ground.
3 - the Chinese have no integrity in maintaing their surroundings. All the interiors of hotels and buildings are in disarray. they dont take care of their environment. elevators are filthy. it seems they never ever have the thought to clean anything around them.
4 - everyone in China is a chain smoker. brown marks on teeth caused by excessive smoking is a common sight.
5 - brothels are everywhere; especially near train and bus stations. small shops sell sexual devices in plain view of children who happen to walk by. I found a freakin water balloon condom in the drawer of my hotel room! prostitutes call my hotel room at all hours of the day and night!
6 - the Chinese are loud people!!! they are always yelling. and taxi's and bus drivers are always honking their horns.

Observations
1 - Chinese people - mostely men - can be seen everywhere playing cards, checkers, or mahjong.
2 - I often see men and sometimes women with a glass jar filled with water and tea leaves.
3 - the Chinese never que (wait in line) properly. they all just attack the teller to get a bus or train ticket.
4 - the Chinese are unable to speak any English. and that is a good things because touts quickly walk away after only one attempt in trying to sell foreigners something in Chinese. as a result the Chinese touts are not nearly as aggressive or innovative in selling souvenirs to tourists as the touts I found all over southeast asia.

Luoyang, China (continued) - June 24th
He strolled the streets of Luoyang for miles and miles in search of an internet cafe. Unable to find any internet cafe after hours of searching he walked and walked in search of any cultural light that would brighten his thoughts. Row after row of horrendously boring and uniform buildings passed him.

At the city's center he looked at the oddity of the hyper-modern corporate buildings and new buildings which had shot up only years ago. They seemed out of place in Luoyang - a once small town turned into an industrial urban grey by the "all-knowing" Mao.

There was a sharp contrast between rich and poor that could be seen all around those out-of-place modern buildings. For example the 5 star hotel that had yet to be completed stood right next to a series of low-income brick buildings for families that carelessly threw their garbage out onto the alley-like lane that served as the walkway to reach the front door of their homes.
Just a few blocks away from the modern buildings surrounded by poverty was an Olympic stadium. Before it stood a bleak bronze statue of football (soccer) players running and sliding to gain control of the ball.

He snaped a picture or two of the statue; locals walked by wondering why. Then it began to rain lightly. Great, he thought, perfect!

He then began to walk east praying for a restaurant that had any sign in its window in English for he had yet to eat anything for the day.

He walked until he saw a fish market. Out of curiosity he decided to investigate. It was far too long into the day to see the sporadic activity of the fish market. The market was located within an enclosed lane. Rusty, beaten-up shops lined the lane. Men and women within those shops lounged around watching their black and white T.V.'s.

As he had expected as soon as he had exited the fish market he saw seafood after seafood restaurant. But, he was too embarrassed to walk into one of them for lunch and go through the hassle of trying to communicate what he would like to eat. So, instead he chose to be stubborn and hungry and continued on toward the river.

The river was wide and on its nothern bank was a wonderful park as green as Ireland. He walked quickly through the park to reach a concrete kiosk where he sought refuge from the rain.
He stood outside under one of the kiosk's corners with an adolescent Chinese couple. He could see that the girl before him had had some kind of accident which resulted in the deformities of her neck and lower jaw. She was simply in appearance and had difficulty speaking but regardless of these physical differences she had a boy by her side who cared for her deeply.

He didnt know what to think about that. This girl who had someone. They soon left him to sit beneath the long protective branch of a tree that stood just next to the river.

He was beginning to feel lonely again. He was beginning to feel sad.

Once the rain had let up he decided to walk east along the river. It was quiet and the grass, yes the beautiful grass, was so wonderfully green.

Perhaps an hour later he passed a Taoist temple and continued east down an old street lined with old and uniform homes and barbershops.

So many barbershops, he thought, in this country. Why? All the Chinese that I have seen have the same hair style. You would think that there would be a vast array of hair colorings and styles to go with all these barbershops.

He looked into each barbershop searching for any sign that it was indeed a brothel. He found a few barbershops that confirmed his suspicion.

Finally at the end of the street he stopped and bought a bag of fresh, rubbery bread. As he walked away from the bread vendor he began snacking. But he was self-conscious as he ate for he was the only person who was eating as he walked.

As he walked north he soon came across a massive castle gate and wall. It was apparent that the wall was only a decade or more old. There was a grand gate entrance into the "Old City" of Luoyang. After buying a drink for more than it was worth and passing by a vendor who was selling cooked rat among a few other meat products he walked through the gate.

What he immediately found was a sort of remake of what one would find after passing through the gate of a fortified castle. The rising walls and towers had the look of a Disney attraction. Chinese women dressed in their uniforms called to passer-bys trying to seduce them into one of the several restaurants that were located within the remade castle walls.

Further along down a major lane he saw old buildings and homes and shops selling crafts, clothes, and food. He fot a sense of the old China from this place but he could see that bits of the lane had been renovated resulting in the alterations of the original pieces of the lane.

Far ahead he saw an old gate. He walked and walked moving his tired legs until he reached the gate and continued on passed it.

As he walked he began to look into every open door observing any life that was to be found down its long corridors and open-air halls. He saw Chinese women attending to their children and staring at him not understanding why on Earth he was taking a picture of her and her children.
As the sun began to set he decided to call it a day. He walked back the entire length of the lane until he exited the grand gate and took a taxi back to his hotel.

These Words have been brought to you by Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-13T19:27:00.000-07:00

Xi'an and the Terra-Cotta Warriors - June 22nd to 24th

I took an overnight hard sleeper train from Nanjing to Xi'an on the night of the 21st. This was my first journey by hard sleeper (I took a soft sleeper from Guangzhou to Shanghai) and it was very comfortable and safe. The hard sleeper car consists of open compartments of 6 beds (the soft sleeper consists of closed compartments of 4 beds).

I put my bag at the end of my assigned bed and laid out on it with my head resting on my bag. I faced the window and simply looked out into the darkness between concentrated hours of reading. There was also a TV to entertain each open compartment. The programs were all in Chinese so it didnt distract my reading since I couldnt understand a thing. I did put my book down though to watch a sort of comedic talk show. The host was interviewing a Chinese rap star. I found myself laughing at their converstation. It was ridiculous to see a Chinese teen spit out words and lyrics of mixed English and Chinese. He then went on to show the host of the show rap mannerisms that he had obviously learned from watching movies and videos of rapppers in the hood and ghettos of the U.S.

This Chinese kid knows nothing of the culture that African American rappers are apart of - a culture defined by growing up and living in the ghettos of the U.S. Black hip-hop culture is black hip-hop culture. Any hip-hop/rap performer who has never experienced life in these rough neighborhoods in U.S. cities is simply imitating what he or she thinks that culture is all about. And so I find it comical to have lived in Japan or to travel through China and to see Asian pop star after Asian pop star spitting out rap lyrics and lingo that they really have no clue about. Black urban hip-hop culture is cool for middle-class priveleged American, Japanese, and Chinese teenagers. They try to speak, act, or dress like their favorite hip-hop stars within the safety of their neighborhoods, schools, and circle of friends. What would happen if a Japanese hip-hop pop star wearing his or her hip-hop clothes and attitude walked into South Central, L.A.? He or she would be laughed at and ridiculed; perhaps even beaten up or shot. Im sure the black communities of the urban ghettos of NYC, Chicago, and L.A. would find it hilarious to see a Chinese or Japanese hip-hop star trying so hard to be something that they are not. They are not black. Period, end of story.

There is a band in Japan that I respect. Love Psychedelico is the name of the group. The singer grew up in the States and in Japan and as a result she is bi-lingual. Her lyrics are a mix up of English and Japanese which is fine by me because she has an understanding of both cultures and languages. What I dont like to see are Japanese, Korean, and Chinese pop stars spitting out English lyrics that they can not even pronounce or understand. It is at times obvious to hear and see that some music producers in these East Asian countries are forcing their artists, or encouraging them, to spit out a few words in English in their songs simply because its "cool". English is "cool" in East Asia.

All that aside the train trip to Xi'an was pleasant.

On the morning of the 22nd a tout found me as soon as I got off the train and led me to a half-way descent hotel not too far from the station. I singed up for the Terra-Cotta tour for the next day when I checked in.

After resting for a bit in the hotel I decided to check out the city. I walked south down Jifeng Lu and immediately ran into a whole strip of massage parlor brothels. These brothels were very small and extremely dirty. The girls would sit in chairs in the doorway looking for their next customer. As soon as I walked passed them they began shouting, "Massage? Massage?" I shook my head no repeatedly until one woman ran up to me and grabbed my arm trying to pull me into her brothel. I pulled my arm away and ran quickly away. This was the first time I have experienced such aggressive prostitutes in Asia. Although I have heard stories of aggressive girls in Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam.

When I got to Dong Dajie street I turned right and walked west until I saw the Bell and Drum Towers. The Drum tower is near a major round-about (the Bell Tower is in the center of the round-about) where Nan Dajie intersects with Xi Dajie. There is a major shopping mall, a posh hotel, plenty of Chinese restaurants catering to tourists and so forth all around the area. I headed to the Drum Tower and took a look around it before walking under it to reach the Muslim Quarter of Xi'an.

Xi'an is where the Silk Road began, or ended depending on how you want to look at it. As a result Muslims from Central Asia migrated into China along its route. It is in Xi'an where Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism from India came into China and then spread. Just north of the Drum Tower is where the Muslim Quarter begins. Along the streets here I found men wearing white muslim caps and women wearing muslim shawls to cover their heads and hair. The restaurants here serve a mix of Chinese and Muslim dishes. The highlight is the Great Mosque which is hidden between narrow lined streets filled with vendors selling an assortment of souvenir goods for tourists. The Great Mosque is still in service and as a result non-Muslims are prohibited from entering the prayer hall. The mosque itself is stylized in a Chinese fashion.

Today was the Dragon Boat Festival in China. As a result all the main streets in the Old Muslim quarter were lined with vendors selling food and candies. It was quiet festive. What the history or the story is behind the festival I have no idea.

Later in the afternoon I walked south down Nan Dajie to the massive and impressive South Gate; Xi'an is yet another city in China that was once walled on all its sides. The moat around the city still exists as does most of the old wall of the city. I later took a taxi to the Eight Immortals Temple which is a Taoist temple. This was my first time to see and walk within a Taoist temple. Of the major religions of China - Buddhism, Confuscianism, and Taoism - Taoism is uniquely native to China; Confuscianism is also uniquely native to China but its more a philosophy than a religion.

Within the temple I found several halls dedicated to specific Taoist gods and a newly painted series of plaques describing a story of a particular Taoist god.

After the temple experience I walked north along a street that was servicing the locals as a market. One thing in particular that caught my attention for nearly half an hour was a Mom and Pop outdoor shop that sold live birds, chickens, and fish. There was a stack of cages filled with either live chickens, ducks, or various birds. I also saw buckets filled with live catfish and eels. Customers simply walked up and pointed to the chicken, duck, bird, or fish that they wanted. The owners of the shop would then grabbed the animal that was pointed at and kill it and prepare it for their customer.

The Death of a Chicken
The way the shop operated was like this. A customer would point to a particular chicken and a boy working in the outdoor shop would grab it. The chicken would obviously panic as the boy held it in an uncomfortable position before grabbing a pair of industrial scissors and cutting its neck open. To increase the amount of blood that was pouring out of its neck the boy threw the chicken into a metal vat of hot water and place a lid over it. I could hear the chicken trashing within it. Once the chicken ceased trashing the boy would pick the bird up and out of the vat and throw it into a machine that he then turned on. The machine moved violently about and when the boy shut it off and picked the chicken out of the machine the chicken was completely stripped of all of its feathers. The boy then threw the chicken into a bag and gave it to the customer.

The Death of a Catfish
If a customer wanted a catfish then someone working at the shop would grab the one that was pointed to and throw it on the ground where he or she would then kill it by banging a heavy comb or hammer on its head. Once the fish was dead and bleeding then the person working at the shop would take a knife and begin scraping its scales off. Once they had done a good job of scraping all the scales off they would throw it into a bag and give it to their customer.

Army of the Terra-Cotta Warriors - June 23rd
I was apart of a tour group. The majority of the people on the tour were Chinese except for a New Zealand couple and a girl from Japan; her name was Nao. We were taken to a museum and a few heavily "cheesy" tourist sites before making it to Emperor Qinshi Huangdi's burial mound. The mound has yet to be excavated. What I saw was simply a massive mound of earth covered with trees and heavy vegetation. It was amazing to see the mound and to imagine the amount of labor (perhaps hundreds of thousands of laborers) to move the amount of earth that now makes up the mound.

From there we had lunch and then walked over to the extremely well-kept park area where the pits of the terra-cottas are to be found. The site currently consists of 4 pits (there are sure to be more pits in the future revealing more terra-cottas). The most famous pit is Pit #1 where I saw with my very own eyes 6 to 8,000 terra-cotta soldiers and horses. The site is housed in a sort of giant airplane hanger. I must say that the sight of the terra-cottas was absolutely amazing and is definitely one of the major highlights of my trip to China. The army of figures are separated by walls that are about 2.5 meters wide. All the soldiers are facing east. Originally these soldiers were all painted and not one of their faces are the same meaning that they did not come from a single mould. The soldiers were all armed and as a result nearly 40,000 swords and metallic weapons have been uncovered from the site. Behind the horses I saw an empty space before the line of terra-cotta soldiers began again. When I looked closely at the earth in this empty space I saw the imprint of a wheel. Before decomposing there was a wooden chariot behind all the horses within the pit.

Pit #2 is composed of chariots, cavalry, infantrymen, and standing and kneeling archers. All I saw really though was an outline of the excavation pit. It will be several years if not decades before the site is completely excavated and shows the line of terra-cotta soldiers in their attack formations. What is interesting to see here are the imprints of the wooden beams in the dirt that represent the beams of the ceiling that stood over the soldiers.

Pit #3 is a small pit that consists of 68 high ranking soldiers and a war chariot. The costumes of these high ranking soldiers are more elaborate than the ones found in Pit #1.

Pit #4 is simply empty.

The Qin Museum is fantastic and what is amazing to see within it are the displays of the metallic weapons found in the four pits and the two highly detailed bronze chariots that were discovered near Emperor Qinshi Huangdi's tomb.

These terra-cotta warriors are 2,000 years old. It is an incredible feat and accomplishment for its time. Emperor Qinshi Huangdi was the first emperor to unite China under tha Qin dynasty. He is was also responsible for beginning the undertaking of building and connecting the Great Wall of China.

I should note to make it clear that all the terra-cotta horses and soldiers are life size. The tallest terra-cotta soldier is just over 6 feet tall.

This Journal Entry has been brought to you by Domenico "Itachan" Composto
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-03T21:55:00.000-07:00

June 20th, 2004 - International Refugee Day and the Rape of Nanjing

Thoughts and Observations:
I arrived in Nanjing on the 19th by train (hard seat) from Shanghai. It was another coudy day.

On the train I saw scores of rice fields and industry - factory after factory and smoke stack after smoke stack.

In some areas I saw large industrial factories and rivers and canals all around them. The water of these rivers and canals was black! utterly devoid of light those waters were. It was a bleak scene. The smoke of these factories were processing coal.

Then between the scores of rice fields and factories I saw concrete 2 to 3 storey buildings - which were all uniform in architecture and design. These apartment buildings too were bleak; they were devoid of any sense of unique style in their architecture. They were not even painted - they simply looked like giant, dull, grey cinder blocks.

When I arrived at Nanjing train station I received maney stares from all the Chinese around me as I walked to the exit of the station and out of the station.

The Touts:
The touts at the station, as the ones in Shanghai, approached me advertising their hotel with their brochures full of pictures. Most only knew how to say "hello" and that was it. Because of the language barrier they are really unable to push their hotels on the potential, targetted, customer.

As a result I find that all the touts in China to be passive - or not nearly as aggressive as any of the touts I have come across in Southeast Asia.

I spent the afternoon and evening in Nanjing walking far east within the city until I passed the Ming Ruins of the Heavenly Gate and the Eastern Gate of the old Ming Wall - the longest wall ever built to fortify a city - it is 33 km or 20 miles in length.

From there I attempted to return to Nanjing University - where my dormitory was located. Along this walk I found a local and perhaps low to middle class area. One or two blocks within this rea had 5 barbershop brothels. They, as in Shanghai, were next to legitimate barbershops. These barbershops didnt have touts trying to lure me in. The women simply stayed within patiently waiting. In some cases I saw a few working girls asleep.

Invasion of the Uniform Restaurants:
The interior design of the restaurants I saw on this walk - in fact all the restaurants in China - were all the same. Simply an open room with off-white walls and tables and chairs within and that is it. The tables all had porcelein white, boring plates. There were few or no paintings on the walls.

I never saw any degree of creativity put into decorating these restaurants. They were all very dull and uninspiring visually.

Also it should be said that all the buildings in Nanjing or any city in China besides the big ones like Shanghai and Beijing whether residential or corporate or business oriented were the same in design: dull, boring, and uniform.

And as I continued to walk on the streets of Nanjing I found myself completely uninspired by anything that I saw.

I saw no indications of creativity or innovation on the streets, in the people, or in the buildings. Everything was sadly the same - dull and boring.

This I believe is a result of the decades of communism striving to twist the country and its people into an egalitarian one. All forms of art, architecture, music and dance and expression that was not in favor of the Party was stamped out.

As a result I feel that there are no indications to be found on the streets of Guangzhou, Shanghai, and Nanjing of the 5,000 years of old and ancient Chinese history and culture.

I have found the Chinatowns of Southeast Asia to reflect more of traditional China than China itself. And I find that sad.

Teaching Chinese Kids for 10 Minutes:
Today I walked into a kind of Community Center for Children and the Arts. I went up to the second floor to look at the ballet classes but instead I was looking into an English class for elementary school children. I was soon invited in to observe. The teacher was very good and I was impressed with how much fun the kids were having, and how much they knew, and how eager they were to learn.

I eventually was asked to teach the class for 10 minutes. I screamed and yelled in my comedic ways and the kids simply stood their laughing their heads off. I guess they had never seen teacher break so many teaching taboos. I left the class with all of them following me and screaming, "Good-bye Teacher!" They got in trouble for doing so by the other teachers.

Nanjing Massacre Musuem Notes:
On December 13th of 1937 the Japanese Imperial Army sacked the city of Nanjing. As an immediate result the Japanese slaughtered 300,000 civilian Chinese in less than a couple of weeks.

On the grounds of the Musuem you will find the Jiant Deng Meng (10,000 Person Grave)which was a former execution ground. There I saw the skeletal remains of thousands of Chinese slaughtered by the Japanese. Some of the bones had bullet and bayonet marks on them. The mass grave is composed 7 layers of bodies piled on top of each other - this suggests irregular deaths and hurried collective burials. I saw the skull of a six-year old child whose head was severed from its body before burial. There were the remains of a woman whose upper and lower jaws were severly parted - suggesting that something was shoved into her mouth. Hairpins, copper coins, buttons, snail shells were found scattered all over the mass grave.

Machine gun bullet casings were also found.

Iron nails were also found embedded in some of the skulls, pelvis's, and limbs.

From Shanghai the Japanese invaded several towns:
Massacre at Jingshanwei - Japanese 10th Army
landed on Hangzhou Bay and killed 351 innocent peasants

Massacre at Suzhou
In the town of Changshou 3,000 civilians were killed and 374 Chinese women raped

Massacre of Xuxi
2,000 people were killed and then the Japanese set fire to the city after looting and occupying it.

Massacre at Changzhou
The Japanese Imperial Army killed 4,000 refugees. Groups of Chinese women were escorted to the headquarters of the Japanese troops to be insulted, gang raped, and shot to death.

Massacre at Jiangyin
1,000 people killed

Massacre at Zhengjiang
The Japanese shot peope at random with machine guns. The raped, looted, and burned.

The Chinese Nationlist Government headed by Chiang Kai Shek (who by the way blew up a massive dam to slow down the Japanese Imperial Army - it resulted in the deaths of over a million Chinese peasants and 50 million homeless peasants) moved the capital from Nanjing to Chongqin in 1937 November 20th.

100,000 Chinese troops evacuated Nanjing before the Japanese arrived leaving the civilians of the city to fend for themselves.

The Japanese threw 190,000 Chinese corpses into the Yangzi river turning the river into a bright red.

There was one case of two Japanese Generals who held a contest in Nanjing. The contest between the two generals entailed decapitating the most heads from Chinese prisoners with their samurai swords. Gunkichi Tanaka was able to decapitate over 300 individuals.

Another torture technique was burning alive Chinese civilians.

There were over 20,000 cases of rape in Nanjing by the Japanese Imperial Army. They did not spare small girls, the old or pregnant. Many of the women - after being raped - were disemboweled and left on the road side to die.

Many girls who survived suffered from veneral diseases from countless incidences of gang rape.

Several foreign residents - particularly John H. D. Rabe - stayed in Nanjing to set up the Safety Zone in Nanjing to protect 250,000 refugees.

The Trial of the Internationl Military Tribunal for the Far East in Tokyo brough 28 Class A Japanese War Criminals to justice. They were all sentenced to death. They were hung on December 22nd 1948 in Tokyo.

A good book to read about these events is The Rape of Nanking by Iris Chang.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

June 18th, 2004 - Last Day in Shanghai

Today will hopefully be my last day in Shanghai. It is yet another dreary day. I, unfortunately, never had the pleasure of seeing Shanghai in bathed in the beauty of sunlight.

Comic Store
Yesterday I went to the Old Main Post Office and then into town in search of a few bookstores, which I found. I also found a comic book store that sold Japanese comics in English imported from the U.S.? The clientele of the store were Chinese men and women? Very odd. There was a second floor to the establishment full of tables where patrons could sit down and read their comics - much like a manga kissaten in Japan. The selection of comics though was not vast and as a result I didnt see how a business such as this could stay in business. The comics were also very expensive. One copy usually sold for more than 10 U.S. dollars.

The Shanghai Musuem
I went to the Shanghai Museum which was extremely impressive with its very modern, clean, efficient, and conservative design. I spent a lot of time looking at the bronze vessels that the Bronze Age of China is famed for. These vessels stretch back to 4,000 B.C. Some of the vessels were large - in my opinion they served as a cauldron to burn offerings like the ones I saw just in front of the Temple of the City Gods in the Old Chinese Quarter of Shanghai. The dissappointment I had in the musuem is that you walk around through the halls of the museum such as the one dedicated to bronze vessels and see these objects completely out of context. You only read and little label that explained that the vessel was either a "wine vessel" or a "food vessel" and its date within a historical time line.

One vessel though had a depiction of a temple scene giving some idea of the context of these vessels.

These bronze vessels are sine works and most definitely associated with some sort of religious or royal purpose. The depiction I mentioned before shows devotees ascending steps to a temple altar where there is a priest to greet them. This is where the vessels were most probably used - I believe.

After seeing in Myanmar the amount of wealth donated by common people to the stupa's and temples all over the country it is easy to understand how powerful the temples were in ancient times; and their connections to the royal families or warlords of ancient times.

The dedication and strong beliefs of the Burmese for their Nat gods and Buddhist gods causes them to attend and worhip in the temples as much as they can. And when they do attend they donate as much money as they can spare. Or they buy golden paper from the temple or other ornament in order to make offering to the relics and statues within the temple. This donated money is then used to maintain the temple. But, I can imagine that milleniums ago the temple made a considerble profit and that possibly this profit was given as tribute to the royal family or used by the royal family - but this is only a guess. I will have to read up on all of this. Regardless though I can understand why in ancient times the relationship between royalty and temples were so strong. Temples made the power of royalty legitimate for the common people, etc. etc. etc.

Moving on - after the bronze vessels I went into the hall dedicated to the history of Chinese ceramics and porcelein - a purely Chinese invention.

I also saw Chinese coinage, stamps - originally and strictly used by bureaucrats, jade ornaments, adn tribal clothing of the various Chinese ethnic groups.

After exiting the Museum I was approached by a middle-aged Chinese man who was with some friends and who wanted to take a picture with me infront of the Shanghai Museum - very odd and funny.

In the evening I had dinner in a giant shopping mall which looked no different from any posh shopping mall in the U.S. - all of its shops were western ones.

The Communist Dynasty
I have yet to be culturally shocked by China. I have found more traditional Chinese elements outside China than within it. This is the result of Chinese Communism wiping away the ancient cultural traditions of the country. As pointed out to me by a man in my dorm room - China had always been ruled by powerful fuedal dynasties that propogated the hierarchal and rigid class structures and systems that kept the masses in place for 4,000 years. Farmers stayed farmers as royal families stayed royal. Although know that anyone could study to become a civil servant and thus move up - but this mobility never passed on to offspring.

Supposedly this all changed in 1911 when Sun Yat-Sen ended 4,000 years of dynasty rule by ending the Ming dynasty. Thus the Republic of China was born giving way to the Nationalists and the Communists who grew to be at odds with each other.

Although Mao preached egalitarianism and Communism to peasants all over China to form his army that pushed the corrupt Nationalist to Taiwan it seems that he simply reinstated another dynasty. The Communist dynasty - where yet again the masses of Chinese people were forced to do what the Party wanted. Obeying them and having no voice. What is the difference between that and the dyansties before 1911 A.D.?

Nothing. China hasnt changed a bit.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-07-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

June 16th - Shanghai's Barbershop Brothels

I saw for the first time after having heard about them in Thailand - for they exist in places like Hat Yai for Malaysian Muslims who cross the Thai border for some exotic fun - the barbershop brothel. In Shanghai I found an entire area of them north of Yan'an Xilu (street) and Yan'an Zhonglu (street).

Wuding Xilu (street) Notes:
This particular street has barbershop brothels on every single block and in some cases one block would be host to several of them.
It is interesting camoflage for a brothel to disguise itself as either a massage parlor, kareoke bar, or barbershop. It makes sense and is quiet clever. The legitimate version of these establishments serve male customers, thus the brothels uses this as camoflage. Most of the barbershop brothels that I saw in Shanghai were situated next to or near legitimate barbershops. They (the barbershop brothel) all had the Chinese characters for beauty and hair on their windows along with the number 60 and the Chinese character for minutes - obviously what kind of barbershop charges by the hour? They (the barbershop brothels) distinguish themselves from their legitimate barbershop counterparts by their spinning barbershop pole which is illuminated in the color pink or in some rare cases blue. Some of these poles also have heart symbols on them. The color pink is typically the Asian (Japan, Korea, China, etc.) recognized color that denotes stores or shops and so forth as selling porn merchandise (DVDs, and S&M devices) or brothels of some kind or another.

If you look through the window of one of the barbershop brothels you will see that it is darkly lit in a soft pink glow. There are mirrors and chairs set up much like a traditional barbershop but it is plain to see that it has been years since they have ever - if ever - been used for that purpose. And you will see Chinese women scantly dressed lounging around bored out of their minds. They are sitting within simply waiting for a customer.
In some cases the windows are tinted so that you can not clearly see in, but the pink glow within is aparant letting all walking traffic know exactly what kind of establishment it is.

In terms of clientele these barbershop brothels are for local customers. They do not advertise themselves to foreigners or sex tourists. Some of these barbershop brothels are so run-down and delapitated that it is simply apparent that they are servicing lower-class, blur-collar, Chinese men (perhaps migrant working men from the country side).

This area that I found these barbershop brothels in is far west of the Bund in Shanghai; it is an area not frequented by tourists.

Sincerely,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-20T23:49:00.000-07:00

June 14th - Shanghai

I checked into the Pujiang Hotel which was established in 1846 and spent nearly $100 for a two night stay in a massive old room on the 5th floor. Not wise but I thought I would treat myself to a bit of luxury.

People who have stayed at the Pujiang Hotel (Astor House) are:
Charlie Chaplin
U.S. President Grant (1879) in room 410 of the Astor House
Albert Einstein in 1922 in room 304 of the Astor House.

June 17th - Shanghai Blues
Shanghai - my first impression of this city was that it was a sad place. I arrived on Monday when it was cloudy and gloomy.

I walked down Nanjing Donglu (street) - a street littered with materialism and felt depressed. I have yet to feel any sort of culture shock here in Shanghai, much less in China. Im still waiting for the feeling or realization that yes I am in China to hit me.

Ive been to Hong Kong, Macau, Guangzhou and now Shaghai and all of these cities wreak of western capitalism to the point that Chinatown in Chicago or New York feels more like China than these cities. I assume that it is very selfish of me as a traveler to be disappointed with the conflict between what I expected to find and what I really found. Well, Hong Kong and Macau have lived up to my expectations. Gaungzhou I knew nothing about. But in the end after all this complaining I realize that all these cities are exactly what they are. They are the products of the European colonialism that dominated China in the 19th and first half of the 20th century. They have a heavy capitalist European feel due to the centuries of the development of these cities to serve as trading sea ports for European, American, Russian, and Japanese interests. It is actually sad and fascinating to learn of how the Europeans along with the Japanese and U.S. manipulated the naive Chinese Manchu dynasty and elites by - for instance - importing the opium drug into the Orient. Britain, in essence, was a drug dealer drugging the Chinese into heavy dependence on the opium drug.

Shanghai Timeline
Here are a list of important dates for the development of Shanghai that you should be aware of:

1839 - The start of the First Opium War (China vs. Britain)
1842 - The Opium War ends with the signing of the Treaty of Nanjing resulting in Shanghai being opened to International Trade
1850 - Outbreak of the Taiping Rebellion (read up about the leader of the rebellion, Haka Hong Xiuquan (1814-1864); an upset educated Chinese man who declared himself the Brother of Jesus Christ and the Son of God!)
1853 - Shanghai occupied by Taiping rebels
1864 - End of the Taiping Rebellion
1894-5 - The Sino-Japanese War (Japan vs. China; and Japan wins resulting in the first factories being built in Shanghai)
1904-5 - Russo-Japanese War (Japan vs. Russia for Manchuria; Japan wins)
1911 - The Chinese Revolution in which Dr. Sun Yat-Sen's movement results in the overthrow of the Manchu dynasty thus ending 4,000 years of dynasty rule in China
1912 - Yuan Shikai is elected President of the Republic of China
1920 - Civil War breaks out in China between its warlords - the war doesnt effect Shanghai's economy
1921 - "The first National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party is held in Shanghai"
1925 - Dr. Sun Yat-Sen dies. Chinese workers strike against Britain and Japan
1926 - The Nationalist army led by Chiang Kai-Shek sets out from Guangzhou to reclaim China from the warlords
1927 - Chiang Kai-Shek splits from his Communist allies in Shanghai
1928 - Nanjing becomes the capital of China
1931 - Japan occupies Manchuria by force
1932 - Japan invades Shanghai
1937 - The Second Sino-Japanese War (Japan vs. China) and the 'Rape of Nanking' where the Japanese Imperial Army raped and slaughtered 300,000 Chinese in Nanking.
The Nationalists and the Communists in China unite to fight the Japanese
1945 - End of Japanese occupation of China
1949 - Shanghai falls to the Chinese Communists

Shanghai has a long history of being a city of extreme economic importance to European and colonialists. Its location at the end of the Yangtze river and its closeness to ports in Japan and its accessibility to ports in Southeast Asia such as Singapore were the prime reasons as to why it rose to become the most important city in the Orient in the 19th and early 20th century. As a result merchants, business men, refugees, criminals, artists from Japan, Russia, Britain, France, and the U.S. all flocked to Shanghai. Due to agreements that were favorable to Western interests made with the Manchu's it quickly became a Mecca for any entrepreneur from the "West" and Japan to develop businesses with little taxation paid to China. It grew to become a city-state paying very little attention to the weakening Manchu dynasty.

Thus you find and understand why Shanghai, today, looks like 1930's Chicago or New York or London. All the buildings along the Bund - the famous street facing the Huangpu river - is lined with Art-Deco and Neo-Classical buildings that have changed little since they were built. To be in Shanghai is like taking a time machine back to the hey days of the 30's in Europe and the U.S.

Thus for me it was a city that had very little to do with traditional Chinese culture. My search for the "old" China that I long to see was not to be satisfied at all in Shanghai. Shanghai is the product of "Western" financial and economic forces and European colonialism. There were parks here that were once forbidden to dogs and Chinese. As you can imagine the impoverished Chinese who lived near Shanghai or had heard about it grew to envy and hate the "Westerners" who were taking extreme advantage of China. This resentment led to the Taiping Rebellion and later the Boxer Rebellion. And ultimately led to the strong Nationalist movements headed by Dr. Sun Yat-Sen and later Chiang Kai Shek and the Communist movement by Mao Ze Dong.

It is thus of no surprise that the movements to reclaim China from the "Westerners" began in Shanghai by "Western" educated Chinese men such as Dr. Sun Yat-Sen. Those educated Chinese who had grown up in Shanghai knew that the only way for China to take back what was rightfully theirs from "Westerners" had to be accomplished by western means. Thus men like Mao Ze Dong took western ideologies such as Communism to aid them rise and overcome Western capitalism.

Shanghai is really the cradle of the movements that has taken China where it is today - a Communist nation of over a billion people.

The Future of Shanghai and China
Commmunist China is striving to develop Shanghai to return to its former glory. It is said by some that in the future Shanghai will overcome Hong Kong and Tokyo in economic importance. That it will be the next economic capital of East Asia.

Do I agree? To be honest I do not. Shanghai in my opinion is decades away from overcoming Hong Kong and Tokyo. Communism doesnt help Shanghai either.

But one things is certain in my opinion. Communism's days in China is numbered. As the middle class grows in China you will find that Communism will be pushed into a corner until it simply disappears. Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Guangzhou are very capitalist cities and the economic driving force of China. These cities will lead the "revolution" that will ultimately end Communism in China. Thus if the Chinese Communist government continues to push Shanghai to become the next big economic city in East Asia they are actually then fueling the fire that will ultimately end them.

For those who have been to Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Shanghai you will agree that Shanghai has a long, long, long ways to go to over come these economic power house cities. I dont think the generation of China today will lead Shanghai to any form of economic glory. Perhaps it will be the next generation.

I say this because the Chinese middle class that I have found are narrow minded in thought. Although they are very educated it seems that they all think and dress the same. Thus I find no amount of original thought, creativity, or innovation among them. If China is to grow as an economic power then it needs to foster a greater freedom of expression and thought in its middle class.

To be frank I am not impressed at all with what I find and see in China. I have found more drive and creativity in Japan, Korea, and all of Southeast Asia than I have in China. Their restaurants for example are all the same, uniform, and boring. All the restaurants in China, and I mean all, are simply white walls devoid of paintings or pictures and tables. The interior design of restaurants here is pathetic. And I can say that about all the stores, hotels, and homes that I have seen here. I see no innovation in design, art, thought, decoration, etc. here. Nothing. How can China grow without creative minds, innovative entrepreneurs, etc.? It can not.

The only reason people are saying that China will become the next big economic power in East Asia is that it will soon have a massive middle class and this translates into a massive consumer market for western goods. This growing middle class will want to buy Gap clothing, more KFC and McDonalds, Toyota cars, Sony C.D. players, etc. China will become a giant consumer market for the West.

"Western" companies that will not do well here though are software companies and music labels. Anything on a C.D. here is heavily pirated and there is really no "real" means to curve that. Microsoft and Universal Records will continue to loose billions in sales here. So forget software in China and all of Southeast Asia except for Singapore and perhaps Malaysia.

But, China, if it doesnt encourage independent thinkers and entrepreneurs to create superior Chinese companies then China will be at a lost economically in the decades to come. What the hell does China produce? They make cheap and low quality products that they sell to Southeast Asian nations. How can China grow by selling to a market that has very little buying power like Southeast Asia?

In my opinion Japan will continue to be the economic power of the Orient.

And I hope that Im wrong about that . . . for China's sake.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-20T23:13:00.000-07:00

June 12th - Hong Kong to Guangzhou, China

Guangzhou along with Shenzhen are financial capitals of southern China and China period.

Guangzhou is a massive city. Very "Western" in design and lay out. If you didnt see the signs of Chinese characters throughout the city you wouldnt believe that you were actually in China.

China, although it has 4/5th of the World's population, boasts space - compared to Japan. As a result - unlike Japan - they can afford to build wide roads and large hotels and apartment and business buildings with large rooms. They have the space. As a result the large streets and orderly sidewalks of Guangzhou feel like that of any city in the U.S.

As I sat in my taxi and looked out I felt no shock in realizing that I was now in mainland China. Guangzhou is simply a big city filled with convenience and business and shopping. It is a capitalist city and as a result I felt at home. I did not feel any of the shock I felt when I crossed through the countries that I visited in Southeast Asia.

I arrived at the Youth Hostel on Shamian Island and checking into a pleasant room for one. After exploring just a tiny fraction of Guangzhou - Qingping Market - and the Jade Market on Changshou Lu I decided to resign myself to Shamian Island.

Notes on Qingping Market:
The shops facing the Liu'Ersan Lu (street) are dedicated to Chinese medicine. I saw jars and massive white bags filled with dried roots (ginseng), snake skin (dried), dried and very large mushrooms, dried starfishes, dried seahorses, antlers of deers, legs of deers that had its fur peeled off leaving only bone and thin strips of muscles, turtle shells, etc.

I also saw men waiting on orange scooters - the scooters had a platform in its rear which was used to transport goods.

I took an alley north from the market and found row after row of Mom and Pop shops selling dried fruits and figs, vegetables, incense sticks, beans - giant bags of packed and dried leaves (for tea?), chile, red peppers, sausages, etc.

There were plenty of men playing the Chinese game of Mahjongg - I could always hear the sound of them throwing down the domino sort of pieces on tables. The game usually consists of four players.

As I walked down the small alleys and streets of this old Chinese quarter I suddenly came across a very sanitary public toilet being maintained by staff who would attend to it and guard it by sitting out front of it.

I saw my first glimpse of a Chinese woman hawking and then spitting on the ground.

one shop had ham legs hanging from its walls just like in Spain.

This old quarter of Guangzhou had the sort of same feel as the Old Quarter in Hanoi.

A shopping street called Dishifu Le had no cars driving through it. It was strictly for pedestrians - people were able to walk leisurely and shop. Pepsi Cola was everywhere! And generally speaking it is everywhere in Southeast Asia.

Outside of stores I saw women clapping their hands and calling out to get the attention of potential customers.

Shamian Island
This island is a quiet refuge of peace, trees, parks, neo-classical buildings, and children.

Samian Daijin street has gardens and playgrounds nestled between two walking paths for pedestrians. There are statues of children nearly at every corner.

The playgrounds here have plenty of slides and swings along with devices meant to massage muscles.

I saw one clever Chinese kid tie a tennis ball to a brick with a rubber string so that he could hit it and have it come back to him.

And there were people of all ages playing badminton.

The Adopted Children of the Shamian Island
The White Swan Hotel is filled with children. And all around Shamian Island you will find small boutique stores selling clothing and toys for children. Then you will notice that across the street from the Christ Church there is the American Consulate.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of families - mostly from the U.S. - come to Guangzhou, to Shamian Island, to finalize the last remaining procedures in the adoption of a Chinese child.

General Notes on Chinese Adoption
1. There are direct flights from L.A. in the U.S. to Guangzhou.
2. Many U.S. families (also Germans and Spanish) adopt Chinese children through the CCAA which is the Chinese Center for Adoption.
3. The White Swan Hotel accommodates many families who are adopting Chinese children since the U.S. consulate is just next door.
4. The application process for a Chinese child is about 18 months and costs about $18,000 U.S.
5. With open adoption in the U.S. there is no guarantee that the adopting couple or family will be able to keep the child after its birth - even after spending time and money with the pregnant mother who wants to give up the child.
6. The majority of adopted Chinese children are girls - this is a result of China's "one child" family policy for families. This results in extreme pressure to ensure that the first child is a boy. If the child is not a boy then it is not uncommon to abandon or kill the 1st born girl.
7. The date of birth for most of the adopted children is unknown. Many of these children were simply left in a bamboo basket in a location where they were sure to be found.
8. Adopting parents usually can not go to the Chinese orphanage where their adoptive child was cared for.
9. The Chinese government pairs parents with a child - this process guarantees a child to the parents who want to adopt.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-20T22:35:00.000-07:00

June 11th - Macau

I went to Hong Kong with the intention of going to Man Mo Temple - one of the oldest in H.K. - but instead after going to the post office I ended up at the Hong Kong Macau Ferry Terminal and took the ferry to Macau. I was only there for about 5 to 6 hours.

I walked an incredible amount in the limited time I had in Macau. I walked from the H.K. Macau Ferry Pier south along Avenida da Amizada. On this street I headed toward The Sands Casino which was massive and sleek. I entered it after passing the metal detectors and felt like I was back in Las Vegas - only all the patrons were of Asian descent. Ideas began to flood my mind for The Dark Legacy book Tribe that I will write. While there I could only think of my father and the many times I went to Las Vegas with him as a kid.

After the casino I continued down Avenida da Amizade until I arrived at Alameda Doutor Carlos D'Assumpcao which is a wonderful park walkway lined with a unique kind of banyan tree that had thin brown roots flowing down from its branches. Elderly Chinese men and women were sitting on a few benches along this walkway passing time with their gossip and chats.

At the end of the path I found the Kum Iam Statue which was actually off-limits. I t was a large bronze statues of feminine curves which was appropriate for a statue dedicated to a female Buddhist.

After that I continued west along Avenida Dr. Sun Yat Sen (the father of the Chinese Republic - 1911) following it until I went around the long curve of Rua da Praia do Bom Parto until it intersected with Avenida do Doutor Mario Soares. I followed that street south to a roundabout and there I found the famous Lisboa Casino.

Lisboa Casino Notes:
The 3rd floor is for members and VIP's only.
The 2nd floor is for smokers. The carpet on this floor was disgusting. Its corners were filled with cigarette ash and burns. The air was cloudy and thick from all the smoke.
The first floor is crammed with people. There was not enough space between all the people and gambling tables to move through. At times I needed to squeeze through the doors to get from one crowded room to the other.

Generally speaking the Lisboa Casino is poorly designed. Its very crammed and not impressive since the carpets and walls are old and fading. Its a dumpy place in my opinion.

Immigration
Going through immigration in both Macau and Hong Kong reveals that both territories are heavily "afraid" and concerned with the potential SARS problem. I had to fill out a Health Declaration Card and as I waited to check in with the Immigration Officer an infrared camera scrolled up and down checking my body's temperature.

This is the same case in Singapore. These 3 city-states that are financially powerful are all heavily concerned with SARS.

After the Lisboa Casino
After the casino I had a bite to eat and then I went on a hard walk/run to see the only wall remaining of St. Paul's Cathedral - it was destroyed by a typhoon. Interesting enough the cathedral was "designed by an Italian, built by the Japanese, and attended by the Portuguese."

From there I went to the Camoes Gardens and saw the Old Protestant cemetery where I believe one of Winston Churchills great uncles was buried.

In the northern part of Macau I walked down Avenida Do Coronel Mesquita seeking the Kun Iam Temple which I found but it was closed. From there I walked all the way back to the Macau Hong Kong Ferry Terminal.

General Thoughts on Macau:
Macau is tiny and seems to be the playground for rich Hong Kong and mainland Chinese tycoons and middleclass businessmen. In the Casino's you will find masses of Chinese, Macau, and Hong Kong men and women of various classes and work backgrounds. The VIP sections are obviously reserved for the high rollers who could not be seen with or mingle with the masses of "commoners".

At The Sands Casino it looked like the main clientele were well-off or well-to-do middle class individuals - mostly tourists from China and Hong Kong. The Lisboa Casino on the other hand seemed to be more popular for local Macau residents - some of whom - or most of whom - seemed to be not-so-well-to-do addicts of the various gambling games. More of a rough crowd really when compared to the Sands.

Macau as a whole though is very unique and surprising. It most definitely has the look and feel of Lisboa, Portugal; and it is so odd to see it populated by Chinese residents (Portuguese residents in Macau make up about 2 to 3 percent of the population). The buildings with their Portuguese influenced balconies have curved grills that guard the windows. This is uniquely Macau for you do not see this type of architectural design in Hong Kong or China.

The streets of Macau curve and turn in sporadic directions very much in the tradition of old streets in Mediterranean towns.

And strangely the Chinese residents seem to have acquired a bit of the mannerisms and feel of the Portuguese. They seem laid back, dedicated to family. You will see old Chinese men sitting on chairs on the sidewalk or in round-about parks watching the young go quickly by.

On the darker side though it is apparent that Macau also serves as the Sex Disneyland for Hong Kong and mainland Chinese men. Go to the Hong Kong Macau Ferry Terminal in Hong Kong and you will see many, many sex tourist shops offering hotel/casino/and strip club deals that surely includes a night or more with a prostitute.

Macau is famed for its Triads (Chinese gangs) who traffic and run prostitution rings, drugs, engage in money laundering, gambling, extortion, and robbery.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

Captain's Log - Stardate 09.555.4434.3
June 9th - Hong Kong
The Hand that Touched the Concrete Hand of Jackie Chan

I spent part of the morning walking through Kowloon Park before heading south and walking along the promenade that had a "walk of Hong Kong film fame." Hong Kong has an impressive and productive film industry and many famous Hong Kong actors and actresses had a star on the promenade complete with their hand print in concrete. Most of the names I saw I did not recognize except for: Bruce Lee - no concrete hand print - Jet Li, and Chakie Chan.

Walking northeast along the promenade I came across a ferry shuttle and decided to board it to explore Hong Kong. It took no more than 5 to 7 minutes to cross Victoria Harbor to Hong Kong's Queen's Pier. There was a haze over the skyline so my pictures were simply o.k. An amazing blu sky filled with impressive cloud would have made them amazing.

I got off I was in Central standing just in front of City Hall. From there I walked to Connaught road and crossed the street to walk through the Cenotaph which was where "British servicemen held daily ceremonies for raising and lowering the flag." I then walked to the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank building which looks like a futuristic space station from the old movie, The Black Hole. When it was completed in 1985 it was the world's most expensive building "at almost a billion dollars." I dont understand why it was so expensive to build though. It is not terribly tall or that impressive to imagine that only 20 years ago it was the "most expensive" building of its time.

I eventually found myself at St. Johns Cathedral where I rested for an hour. 30 minutes in silence looking at my Natural Geographic China book and 30 minutes listening to a live piano recital.

From there I had lunch and then I went to the Peak Tram Terminal and took the tram up the mountain slopes of Hong Kong - sometimes ascending at a 45 degree angle - to Victoria's Peak.

The Peak was a shopping mall full of tourist gimmick crap and cheesy wax museums. Nothing too cultural but the view of Hong Kong is absolutely amazing. Most surprising though was to see that on the southern side of the peak was that it was nearly untouched. It was lush and full of beautiful trees and vegetation. I spent about an hour or two walking along the roads of Victoria's Peak admiring the natural surroundings and the multi-million dollar houses.

After descending I walked northwest along Upper Albert Road in search of Lan Kwai Fong which is a hang out area for expatriots to drink and eat after work. I believe I found aspects of it and along the way to it I found several posh Tibetan antique shops.

After that I walked and waited on the escalators near Soho which all together is the longest escalator in the world. It takes about 20 minutes to ascend to Conduit Road. From there I descended and found a market selling hyper-clean fish and meats. This was the cleanest outdoor food market I had come across on this trip.

General Hong Kong Notes:
1. Massage parlors, Saunas, Kareoke bars - some if not most of these are fronts for prostitution rackets. Newspaper kiosks sell porn and comic porn.

2. Traffic lights - the walking alarm bell sounds like percussive cowbells being struck in 16th note patterns.

3. Some cell phones are simply a sleek plastic bar, attached to the ear freeing both hands - Japan doesnt have this!

3. City buses are clean double deckers with monitors within advertising products and other stuff you dont need.

June 10th - Kowloon
I went shopping for clothes and went to see the movie Lady Killers which I enjoyed - "hippydy hop".

Simply said - I took it easy today in Kowloon.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-20T21:00:00.000-07:00

Final Hong Kong Notes - June 8th to the 12th

I was in Hong King from June 8th to the 12th. I flew from Hanoi to Hong Kong International Airport which is on Lantau Island. Although I would have preferred to have entered China by land from Vietnam I was actually pleased to have been introduced to Hong Kong by entering it through its ultra-modern, ultra-efficient, and ultra-clean airport. After two months of traveling through Southeast Asia it was a relief to arrive into the familiar and modern surroundings of Hong Kong's airport.

But I must say that it was a sort of shock too to rejoin the modern world through the H.K. airport. It seemed unnatural to walk through such a sterile environment. I had spent weeks traveling over the rough terrains and conditions of Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. Although it was tough I must admit that I enjoyed the unpredictability of traveling through those nations. In Hong Kong though everything works like a fine time piece. Nothing too unexpected is to be expected. Things occur and happen as they should. Life in H.K. - and the "modern" world in general - is built on being stable, predictable, and safe. Thus something is lost. Life in the "modern world" becomes mundane again for the traveler - such as I.

After buying my shuttle train ticket by pressing a few selections on a touch sensitive screen I walked to the train platform within the H.K. airport. Men in clean uniforms helped various passengers unburden themselves of their bags. And when the train arrived they helped the passengers place their bags in the baggage area within the train.

I was impressed with this airport shuttle train. It was cleaner than any Tokyo train I had ever been on - which almost seems impossible to achieve if you have ever experienced Tokyo trains and subways - and I was also amazed to see that the backs of the head-rests had a monitor for passengers to look at to pass the time. The monitor - just like one you would find on a new 747 plane - displayed a map of Lantau Island, Kowloon, and Hong Kong island showing the trains progress in nearing its destinations.

Out the window I saw the mountainous terrains of Lantau and all the incredibly tall sky-scraper like apartment complexes nestled between. It was truly awesome to see so many magnificent apartment high-rises - clean and massive - neighboring lush mountainous slopes. It was a beautiful balance between man-made homes and structures and nature.

And as the train rushed through tunnels my ears would pop; reminding me how fast we were traveling.

I, after making an error as to where to get off the train, finally arrived at Tsim Sha Tsui (which translates into 9 Dragons). I loved what I found upon exiting the subway station: massive apartment complexes, dirty and grimy, full of interesting and unusual characters walking into and out of them. I was quickly approached by a tout and before I knew it I was secured a room - the tiniest I have so far found on this trip - in the Mirador Mansion. Changking Mansion is the counterpart to the Mirador. They are both gigantic apartment complexes - nearly a tiny city in it-self - near the southern end of Nathan Road. Both complexes are full of backpacker guest houses.

The Mirador reminded me much of the gritty but enormous living quarters that all the fictional characters of Zion - from the second Matrix movie - lived in. The Mirador nearly takes up an entire city block. Although it is square in shape its center is void so that the interior 4 sides of the Mirador all face a square open area.

My room was located on the 8th floor. I would usually take the stairs to ascend and descend. Usually before I would descend I would stand in the staircase and look down below to see a mass of rusted buckets and piled up metallic junk cluttered between the large ventilators and machines that powered or cooled the building. Other than that, there was simply a white floor area - platform - where no one was permitted to walk on.

From this sight I would then look up at all the floors that were full of a curious blend of apartment homes for ethnic families from Bangladesh, India, or from some countries in Africa, and tailor shops and guest houses. Although the original intent of the Mirador was to be a strict apartment complex it did not stop various entrepreneurs on the lower end of the Hong Kong economic spectrum to convert these apartments into places of labor and work. It seemed like every floor had several tailor or dry cleaning shops. Which was convenient since the 1st and 2nd floors had the tailor shops - clean and tidy - to attract customers and the counterpart tailor shop where the suits and dresses were actually made just a few floors above.

Guest houses converted these apartments to have 4 to 5 or more tiny rooms with bath for backpackers willing to pay $15 to $25 a night. I loved my tiny room. I had a view of a street that ran perpendicular to Nathan Road. I could see the business offices across the street and other apartments complexes with hundreds of air conditioners sticking out from the sides of these buildings which were positioned right above individual windows. At night or in the morning a I would look out I would feel like I was living in the apartment complex that Harrison Ford's character lived in in the movie Blade Runner.

General Observations of Hong Kong:
1. The number of air-conditioners sticking out from the 4 to 5 to 6 to 7 to 9 to 10 storey high apartment complexes is probably half the number of people living in Hong Kong. Any time you look up at an apartment complex you will see a terrible number of these air-cons just above the hundreds of apartment windows dripping drops of water upon the sidewalk. As I walked up and down Nathan road I either saw a wet line on the sidewalk caused by the constant drip of the air-conditioners or felt the droplets themselves fall upon my shoulder or my head or glasses. But no one seems to mind; its just water.

2. The teenage girls in Hong Kong dress very much like the girls in Tokyo. They seem to have the same sense of punky fashion. Sometimes I found myself wondering if the girl I saw in a coffee shop or on the street was Japanese. I would then wait a moment and then I could tell that she was indeed a Hong Kong girl due to her mannerisms, the way she spoke, and her hand gestures. Japanese girls do not wave their hands around drastically as they speak. And they speak softly whereas Hong Kong girls and Chinese girls nearly scream. Japanese girls hold their body in a conservative fashion. Hong Kong girls and Chinese girls use a lot of exaggerated body motions when they speak.

3. There are narrow alleys and staircases throughout Kowloon. Although the main streets are wide and building complexes large, alleys are narrow - this is really of no surprise - and staircases of buildings that are 2 to 3 storeys are also narrow. Walk down any street that is perpendicular or parallel to Nathan road and you will find Mom and Pop shops with apartments on the 2nd floor and narrow staircases leading up to them.

4. If you walk awhile north on Nathan road and then begin exploring the streets parallel or perpendicular to Nathan road you will notice that certain streets or blocks are dedicated to a specific type of product or industry. I found a street full of shops dedicated to the sale of fabric.

5. Generally speaking Kowloon is clean and tidy. It seems very safe and well-run. And Hong Kong itself is even more clean and sterile. I prefer Kowloon though. It has more character and personality than Hong Kong which is simply too clean for my tastes.

6. Women - and men - in Hong Kong are loud and aggressive when compared to the Japanese. In one case I saw a street cleaner woman screaming at her male co-worker. But, it turned out that she was simply excited in the telling of her story and as a result was screaming. This is very un-Japanese behavior. Use of language in public is a "no-no" in Japan. The people in Hong Kong are enthusiastic and loud in public.

7. Mirador Mansion is full of oddities: guest houses, tailor shops, sliding cages over doors, clothes hanging to dry (bras, underwear, pants, etc.) within hands reach in hallways and near staircases, sketchy Indian and African men hanging outside the main entrances into the Mirador. Also, there is a 7-11 convenient store on the south side of the Mirador that is full of African men hanging within it and also outside of it.

8. Found a "turtle soup" shop. Other shops will have chickens - dead and fried - hanging from their windows with their heads fully intact. Giant knives are used to hack them apart. When you eat them you spend more effort on trying to rid your meal of the bones than enjoying it.

9. Neon signs stretch out trying to conquer as much space as possible over the street.

More notes on Hong Kong to come . . .
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-14T21:15:00.000-07:00

June 15th, 2004 - Shanghai, China - Internet Censorship Issues

Please be informed that I will have a bit of difficulty to update this blogspot as I am currently in China where a website such as this is - as I have found in certain web cafe's in Guangzhou and Shanghai - prohibited to view. This is one form of government restriction (internet censorship) that I find ridiculous. As a result I will be keeping a hard copy journal of my experiences and travels in China and will post them on this site some time after July 10th (my date of exit from The People's Republic of China).

Until my next Journal Entry :)
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

Hanoi, Vietnam to Hong Kong - June 8th, 2004 of the Common Era

Yes, I flew from Hanoi Vietnam to Hong Kong. Although I have loved the rustle and bustle of traveling by land via bus and train I must admit that it was extremely nice to travel by place again. I flew Vietnamese Airlines. A nice airline it was.

I sat in an aisle seat so I was not able to see Hong Kong on our descent into the city.

Now, as I have mentioned in a previous journal entry, I do not consider Hong Kong to be apart of China. I know on paper and on political maps that Hong Kong and Macau are "technically" apart of the China motherland . . . blah blah blah. Since China practices a "One Country, Two System" Special Administrative Region blah blah blah with Hong Kong and Macau in my mind Hong Kong and Macau are both still their own city-state countries. I strongly feel like this for this reason.

I have a Chinese visa. Originally I was going to travel from Hanoi by land into southern China - thus activating my Chinese visa. But, as I learned, if I wanted to go into Hong Kong from China then my Chinese visa would immediately expire and if I wanted to return to the Chinese main land from Hong Kong then I would have to apply for another Chinese visa. What the hell? Is Hong Kong apart of China or not? Since my Chinese visa does not include Hong Kong then in my mind Hong Kong is not apart of China and thus its own separate country. Simply said I can add Hong Kong on my list of countries visited . . . hee hee hee.

Hong Kong = 3 parts Tokyo + 2 parts New York

Im happy though that things worked out so that I could fly into Hong Kong because their airport and airport train system is a marvel in and of itself. The airport is hyper clean and efficient and their airport train system rivals that of any Japanese train system - and that is saying a hell of a lot. To begin with I approached the airport train with my bag, which sat on a cart that I rolled, and was met with a uniformed gentlemen that lifted my bag off the cart, took the cart and parked it, and then when the train arrived too my bag and placed it into a luggage holding area within the train. Now that is what I call service. All the seats in the train have a monitor screen on the back side of the head rest so that you can see the progress of the train on a digital map as it travels from Lantau island to Kowloon to Hong Kong. The train is fast, your ears will pop as you travel through tunnels. Out the window of the train I got my first glimpses of Hong Kong. My only thoughts were that I wanted to live here. I have never seen so many sky-scraper apartment buildings in my life. They were all clean and organized and carefully placed between the many hills and mountains that define the topography of Hong Kong.

I ended up in Tsim Sha Tsui which is on a penninsula that points right at the Hong Kong skyline. Tsim Sha Tsui is described by most people who live here as the decrepit part of Hong Kong. It is full of massive low-income apartment buildings, sketchy camera and electronic shops, men from Bangladesh and India trying to woo you into their tailor shops, and working girls that walk the streets at night, along with suspicious sauna's and massage parlors that advertise in Chinese, English, and Japanese.

As soon as I walked out of the Tsim Sha Tsui train station I was approached by a man from Bangladesh who wanted to show me a Guest House room in the Mirador Mansion.

In Tsim Sha Tsui there are two massive apartment buildings that are a hot spot for back packers to spend the night in. They are the Chungking Mansion and the Mirador Mansion. To most "middle-class" people I suspect that they would be afraid to stay in such a place. It is full of low-lifes, people screaming, porn shops, cheap tourist shops, and sketchy electronic shops. The public walls of these two buildings are covered with dried stains of various drinks and foods and maybe . . . blood? - No, just joking. The place is full of grime and dirt. It essentially needs a good long bath.

I followed the man from Bandladesh to a small shop within the Mirador Building that sold paintings. Somehow this shop was the check in desk for the Guest House. After grabbing some keys he took me into an elevator. We got out on the 8th floor and walked to what looked like the door to an apartment. He opened it up and I could immediately see that this apartment was renovated into becoming five individual rooms. I chose the room with a window.

My room is tiny. There is only room for a lofted bed and a bathroom. My bathroom is also tiny. A sink and toilet is smashed into it so that when I take a shower I am nearly standing in my toilet.

But, the view from my room is fantastic. I honestly feel like Im in the movie Blade Runner. The apartment building across the street from my window is a massive concrete block of grime and filth. Hundreds of air conditioners that are decades old extend from nearly every brown tinted window on the building. I honestly feel like Im in the China Town of New York in the year 2040.

After relaxing a bit and figuring out how to use the air conditioner I took a long, long stroll down Nathan road. I was headed north. Away from Hong Kong and into the guts of Kowloon. The road is lined with shops, shops, and shops. From where I started there were plenty of designer shops but the farther north I traveled the less I saw of these types of shops. Instead I found Chinese restaurants, massage parlors, clothing shops, and game centers.

The amazing thing to see with my very own eyes was the construction done on buildings. Buildings are built and renovated with the aid and use of bamboo! Yes, you will see elaborate grids of bamboo tied together all the way up the sides of buildings so that workers can construct or fix buildings. Absolutely fascinating.

Massive neon signs jet out from the sides of the buildings as if trying to attack the air above the streets.

All in all though Hong Kong reminds me very much of New York and Tokyo. It has the feel of Tokyo in that their taxi's are the same (in Tokyo they are black Toyota town cars, and in Hong Kong they are red and white Toyota town cars), there are neon signs popping out from the sides of buildings advertising everything imaginable, coporate skyscrapers lighting up the night sky, etc. It has the feel of New York in that the people shot, honk their car horns, and that the buildings are old and brick and faded after decades of use. In Tokyo buildings have a life span of about 30 years - so everything looks new - not old.

So, Hong Kong.
It is simply this. Three parts Tokyo and two parts New York.

Now, the Hong Kong skyline. At night I walked to Star Ferry Pier and saw the most amazing city skyline I have ever seen in my entire life. Yes, it was amazing. i have never seen a city skyline as impressive as the Hong Kong one. It is a marvel and a tribute to what man may accomplish. I sat and stared at the fine work of architecture before me and all the corporate logo's seeking my attention - AIA, Sanyo, Sharp, Sony, Panasonic, Epson, TCL, Nikon, LG, Hitachi, Olympus, Allianz, Philips, Canon, Onward, Marriott, CMG, Principal, Renesas, citigroup, and Cosco.

I need to rest these fingers from the keyboard.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com

2004-06-09T20:21:00.000-07:00

Hanoi: Part II - Ho Chi Minh and Me, June 6th

This was the day that I would begin my "Tour of Dead Communist Leaders". The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum faces the Hanoi Citadel. The Hanoi Citadel - from what I could tell - is a military fortress of some kind. I wanted to cross through the citadel via Cua Dong street but was deterred by Vietnamese soldiers guarding a gate entrance into the citadel. As a result Frederick (a friend I met in Saigon and was rooming with back at my hotel) and I walked south on Ly Nam De. Along this street I saw a fine example of Hanoi architectural charm. The street - as most streets in the Old Quarter of Hanoi - is lined with tall and beautiful trees. A few of these trees on Ly Nam De had grown dangerously close to a few apartment buildings and in some cases grew straight into a few balconies and buildings. But they were not viciously cut down by the city of Hanoi or by the residents of these buildings. There was a nice compromise in which the branches of the trees were simply permitted to grow into the balconies - damaging them a bit - but adding to a sense of harmony between these man-made buildings and the curiving and creeping nature of these trees.

As I continued to walk looking at these trees meld into these buildings I began to think of what Hanoi would be like when man has left and nature has retaken it. After seeing the glorious temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia - once a magnificent Empire but now an awesome ruin - I began to wonder if in the centuries or milleniums to follow if Hanoi would be forgotten and one day re-discovered. What would be left of it if already the trees of the Old Quarter are slowly conquering it? The city, as I imagine it, would be a horrible ruin of jungle forests attacking and reclaiming this once pleasant city. The narrow roads would be torn up by tree roots and thick tree branches would interweeve straight into the buildings ripping apart their walls until they came crashing down. Yes, one day all cities must fall. You never know what the future may bring. A Roman Empreror would never have thought that all the glory of his Empire would one day fall . . . be forgotten and rediscovered.

It is a curiosity to think about the fact that perhaps one day in the far future Hanoi will be deserted and one day rediscovered. That one day it will become a tourist attraction for apathetic school children who would rather be doing something else than to see the famed "Ruins of Hanoi". Will people far in the future know how the determination of Hanoi and its Nationalist/Communist government defeated the unwinable war the great Empire of the U.S. tried to wage against it? How the Vietnam War plagued the hearts and minds of so many Americans for two to three generations? Perhaps not . . . this simply goes to show that all things must end, and be forgotten for a time. No matter how glorious the feat or accomplishment, no matter how significant the win or loss in war, no matter how many lives were lost, no matter how rich or powerful the government or country . . . it is all temporary and in the end . . . holds little meaning to the infinite bounds of time and nature.

My thoughts just went off there . . . my apologies.

It was my first time to a Mausoleum. I expected something huge and incredible. The mausoleum though is not that. It is sad and dark and unimpressive. Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum is not large. It is perhaps four storeys at the most. It is made mostly of black stone, as well as red stone. What is impressive though is the fact that there was a massive number of Vietnamese citizens lined up to see the man who had freed them from the grips of the West. That is what touched me the most. 30 years after his death there are still so many people who come to see what remains of this man who stood up against two powerful nations: France and the U.S.

Frederick tried to find the end of the line. We did not succeed. After checking in our cameras and buying a brochure that we were told was a ticket - but was not - Frederick and I ran in search of the end of the line. When we thought we had found it we simply found that it was simply curving around a corner. Beyond the corner the line extended on and on. Luckily foreign visitors are given precedence and we were allowed to cut into the middle of the line.

The line moves quickly and efficiently like a conveyor belt. Upon entering the Mausoleum I was immediately struck by the air conditioner. Thank God it was freezing in there; a break from the Hanoi heat. The entrance has the feel of a corporate office entrance. I expected to find elevators to the sides. We followed the line to the left and continued up a ramp that eventually led into the darkly lit room where Ho Chi Minh's body lay at rest in a glass casket with an orange light illuminating his peaceful face. I was impressed. Extremely impressed. I have never seen anything like this in my entire life. Never in my life have I seen this odd tradition of preserving the body of a leader for all to see for decades and decades. It is moving, nearly inspiring. Ho Chi Minh's body was in perfect condition. I could not believe how well preserved he was. It was as if he was frozen in time. His white Chinese beard flowed from his chin to over his chest. He was at rest, in a peaceful slumber. You almost felt as if he would wake at any moment. Below his casket, at its four corners, were four guards dressed in white uniforms. And above him, on the wall behind him, was the Star of Vietnam (a symbol of Communist Vietnam) and the Sickle and Hammer of fomer Communist Russia.

After the Mausoleum Frederick and I rested at an outdoor drink shop. We both had some freshly squeezed sugar cane. We were soon approached by yet another Vietnamese tout who wanted to drive us around town for a small fee. I warned the guy that he was going to get no business from us. He ignored the comment and so I sat there making up the country of my origin, my occupation, etc. to have fun with him. We soon left and he grew upset that he had wasted 20 minutes of his time with us without making any money. Too bad buddy, I warned you!

We walked south to the Temple of Literature. We didnt enter it. I think I was suffering from Temple Burn Out Disorder. From there we were on a mission to find the Hanoi Main Railway Station. We eventually found it and Frederick got the info he needed about taking the train into China. From there we walked to the Culture Palace and found a restaurant to have lunch. From there we walked north until we arrived at the Hoan Kiem Lake. Soon enough we were back in our hotel for a rest. We then met up with two other Swedeish men (Frederick is from Sweden) and went out for dinner at a pleasant backpacker joint on the terrace of a building. I had two orders of a giant tuna sandwich. The beers were only 30 cents a pop so we loaded up on that as well. Since the beer was very, I mean very, week the Swedes popped out some old Swedish type of chewing tobaco known as Snus. I tried some. The tobacco is wrapped in a small packet that you place under you front lip. After about 10 minutes I felt the kick from the Snus. After 20 minutes I had enough and took it out. The other Swedes - who grew up on this stuff - kept in under their lip for the entire night.

After dinner we walked back to our hotel but along the way we stopped by several pirated C.D. and DVD shops. 1 pirated DVD was sold for just under 1 U.S. dollar.

The next day Frederick bough about 20 DVD's. Since we could rent a DVD player we decided to simply run errands on June 7th and watch as many DVD's as we could in the evening.

May the Force be with You . . .
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-08T06:27:00.000-07:00

My Dream and Hanoi: Part I

I have found my dream atmosphere. Yes, yes, yes. I have done it. I have found an air-conditioned internet cafe with a high speed internet connection here in Hong Kong. That probabaly means that Im going to be writing a lot while Im here.

Today is June 8th and I flew from Hanoi, Vietnam to Hong Kong. For me though Hong Kong is not apart of China. In my opinion it is a city-state that has very little to do with Communist China. As a result I will count Hong Kong as country number 9 on the number of countries I have visited so far on this trip.

the Country count for my 2004 Travelapalooza Domenico Freedom Festival Tour is as follows:
1. Korea
2. Singapore
3. Malaysia
4. Thailand
5. Myanmar
6. Laos
7. Cambodia
8. Vietnam
9. Hong Kong
and in a few days Ill be in China so that will be number 10

Now, Honoi - June 5-8

The comparison often made by East Coasters of the U.S. that have traveled Vietnam from north to south is that Saigon is New York and Hanoi is Boston. I will have to agree with this comparison. Hanoi is small and lovely and quiet and not so business oriented like Saigon . . . in appearance at least. What I love about Hanoi are the number of lakes that you will find and run into thoughout the city. It is a wonderful and pleasant sight to see these lakes scattered around the city.

I stayed in the Old Quarter of Hanoi; the old French colonial sector of Hanoi. The Old Quarter is defined by a zig-zag array of streets that seem to have evolved from glorified cow paths. In other words the Old Quarter can be a maze, a labrinth of streets that curve and twist and head in direction that make no sense. The only way to navigate from one part of the Old Quarter to the other is by developing an urban market knowledge of where certain products are sold. Every street is specialized in what it sells. Hang Quat street has an abundance of Mom and Pop shops that sells Chinese shrines and other trinkets needed for your own shrine, or for funeral rites of a deceased loved one. Luon Van Can is sun glasses and eye glasses land. The entire street only sells eye-wear. Need to shop for some food? Then go to Dong Xuan street where you will find the Dong Xuan market. The market is literally right on the street and off-streets that shoot off from it. Here again you will find that the market is divded into different specialized section. If you go east on Hong Chieu street you will find sea food sold: live crabs, shrimp, prawns, fish, fish, fish, frog skin, frog legs anyone? Further down the street you will find bloody meat hanging from hooks in the humid summer air - yummy? It is curious to see that these streets sell specific items and that they are sold right out of the homes on these streets. I guess if you have the misfortune of moving onto the fresh - or not so fresh - meat section of a street you are doomed to be a butcher for as long as you live there.

Literally, though - all these streets in the Old Quarter sell specific items straight out of their homes. These Mom and Pop shops have their store on the first floor and behind their store is where they live or on the floor above their shop. Its funny to walk past these shops in the afternoon and to see the clerks in the shop eating lunch with their families right in the middle of the store. You feel like you'd be intruding if you walked in to buy something . . . so I recommend that you do your shopping in the morning and the later afternoon so as to not disturb the people working in the shop while they are eating lunch in the early afternoon.

These types of products that you will find dedicated to specific streets in the Old Quarter include the following: iron bars, grills, and steel products for the home, toys, eye wear, Chinese shrine goods, medicine boths Eastern and Western, pirated C.D.'s and DVD's and computer software, tourist shops, clothing shops dedicated to gender and different ages (e.g. one street will only sell women's clothing where as another street will sell only children's clothing), shoes, etc.

The internet cafe is about to close so I will have to stop.
I will write more about Hanoi tomorrow.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-07T05:23:00.000-07:00

Hanoi Notes and Final Thoughts on Vietnam - Hanoi, June 5th to 8th

If you have been reading the progress of this digital journal for the past two months you will have noticed that my notes during my time in Vietnam are a bit different. Some of the entries on Vietnam have been rushed or not heavily focused on recounting historical events prior to the 20th century. This is especially true for the time I spent in Nha Trang, Hoi An, and Hue.

As a backpacker I think that I am going through a two month burn out cycle. I think it takes about two months before a back packer begins to burn out on interesting cultural sites of the countries he or she is traveling through. If and when this happens the best thing to do is to stay put in one place for several days, build up a routine, rest, and clear the head. Once you have done this it is time to move on with eager interest to discover more.

Since I was spending no more than a day in Nha Trang, Hoi An, and Hue I was pushing the limits of my genuine interest in discovering as much as I can in these places. To put it plainly I was burnt out and really had no desire to take notes or discover the historical significance of these places. I was a numb traveler simply trying to get from point A to B. As a result of all that I decided to take a little break from the internet.

And here I am. I have been in Hanoi for three full days. I am feeling better now. And tomorrow I will be flying to Hong Kong where I will stay for three solid days. So Im begining to rejuice and get ready for my travels through China!

Before I get into Hanoi I would like to talk about Vietnam as a whole.

This is the first country I have come across in this journey where the people have exhausted me completely. It is a beautiful country but, to be honest, the people here ruin it for the tourist. Vietnam is cheap, extremely cheap! And as a result any traveler who walks into this country is seen as the richest person alive by the Vietnamese. They see you only as a money machine and they try their darnest to squeeze whatever cash they can from you.

One kid that literally begged me to buy one of his post cards or books finally said it best by explaining, "Look, just give me 10,000 dong. It is nothing for you. You are rich. You come from a rich country. I have nothing. Give me some money so that I can go to school and learn more English. So that I can buy some food and have a place to sleep."

I replied angrily, "Look! I have heard that story every day from 100 different people. I am not rich. And I wont give you 10,000 dong because I dont want to! You expect me to give you money. Everyone in this country expects me to give them money. Yes, 10,000 dong may be nothing to me but I cant give it to everyone so Im sorry - LEAVE ME ALONE!"

And he left me alone. But what he said pretty much sums up how Vietnamese people see foreigners traveling through their country. They dont really care why you are here or what country you came from or what you do or what you think of Vietnam. All they want is your money. And they will follow you, bother you, ask you "friendly" questions and God knows what else just to skim a buck off you.

Every freaking day there are men on scooters who keep calling to me, "Moto?" They want to take me on a ride around town for a fee. They are like an unofficial taxi service. But they are everywhere and they never leave you alone. Every 10 seconds you here, "Moto - Where you go? - Go to Museum? - I take you - 5,000 dong cheap for you," etc. This has driven me mad. I have considered buying a gun and slaughtering the next Moto driver that asked me, "Moto?"

I have tried various ways to be kind to them and to say no to them. In the end though I have become bitter and simply look past them with an angry look while shouting "NO!" At times when I feel like Im loosing my sanity I have fun with them and tell them all sorts of lies.

A coversation may appear like this:

MOTO DRIVER: MOTO?
DOMENICO: NO!
M.D.: Where you go.
DOM: Alaska!
M.D.: You come.
DOM: How much?
M.D.: 10,000 dong.
DOM: Really! That is amazing. You take me to Alaska for 10,000 dong.
M.D.: Where you from?
DOM: Uzbekistan.
M.D.: Uz - Uz - Uz -
DOM: Uzbekistan. South of Russia.
M.D. (pointing to my ring): How much?
DOM: 100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 Turkish Dollars.
M.D.: Come, you come. I take you.
DOM: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD and BUDDHA AND WHOEVER ELSE - NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! *((*%#$(%*$53$#%#$!!!!!

Due to my anthropological expertise I have been able to translate the true meaning of the same questions you will hear asked from every single Moto driver in all of Vietnam.

"Where are you from?" - When translated means - "I need to figure out how much money you have and by learning which country you are from I will know how much I can rip you off."

If you say you are from the U.S. or Japan or England its simply over for you. You are one of the richest people in the world for the Vietnamese. I recommend that you say you are from Uzbekistan or one of the -stan countries between Iran and Russia.

If they point to your jewelry and ask, "How much is that?" - it translates into - "By learning how much you spend on jewelry I can figure out how rich you are."

"Which hotel are you staying at?" - translates into - "Be learning how much you spent on one night in a hotel I can figure out how rich you are."

"Where are you going?" - translates into - "If I can find out if you are going to an area of the city where people shop I can figure out what you want to buy and take you to a place that sells it for cheaper so that I can get a kick back for your purchase."

"Moto?" - translates into - "I am just a regular person who has no taxi license but since I have a scooter I can take you anywhere you want in the city for a price that is 4 times local taxi prices."

"What's your name?" - translates into "I want to learn your name so that I can call you by your name and pretend that we are buddy buddy and fool you into thinking that I actually care about you when all I really want is your money."

I think that just about covers the basics what the Vietnamese will ask you and what it really means.

Although Vietnam is beautiful and enchanting I dont like being constantly reminded by every Vietnamese I see on the street that I am a foreigner. I guess they are more direct about that fact though, that I am a foreigner that they can make money off of. Im sure the people I met and came across in Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand also see me only as a foreigner that they can make money off of but they hid their intent a hell of a lot better than the Vietnamese.

I got to run and grab some dinner so that I can watch about 100 pirated DVD's tonight in my hotel room :)

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

P.S. I will write about Hanoi in a day or two.

2004-06-07T04:44:00.000-07:00

June 3rd - Morning bus from Hoi An to Hue, Vietnam

I took a morning bus from Hoi An to Hue. The ride was about 6 hours or so. On this bus ride several boxes were piled in the alley between the seats making it impassable for the passengers who sat in the back.

I sat in the back of the bus with a Vietnamese family. There was a young Vietnamese girl who was apart of the family. She was about 8 years old or so and sat just one seat away from me. Behind us there were back-packer back packs piled so high that they completely covered the rear window.

The view that we saw along this journey was spectacular. We drove high up a series of small mountains and down below we could see deserted beaches and turquoise waters. Most of the tourists within the bus were quick to pull out their cameras to take photos of the scenery. As for me I decided against it. By this part of the journey the little Vietnamese girl was sitting right beside me. About an hour before I had pulled out my M.D. player to listen to a bit of music - BIG MISTAKE!

The little girl wanted to listen to what I was listening to. Being nice I let her listen to the music by giving her my headphones. She kept pointing to the M.D. protective case signaling that she would like to open it. I constantly told her no. But, she did not give up. When I was not looking she took the liberty to open up the case and look through the three other M.D.'s I had in there. I then turned my head and saw what she was doing but instead of taking it away from her I let her investigate while keeping a close eye on her. She then pulled out the M.D. player from within a protective cloth and began pressing its buttons. She found the eject button and then decided to take out the M.D. and put in another one. From that point forth she would listen to one M.D. for about 12 seconds and then eject it and put in another one. She did this for about 30 minutes without getting bored. When it became apparent to me that she could go on forever like that I finally took the M.D. away from her.

I pulled out a book to read. She wanted to read it too. Never mind that she cant read English, she wanted to read it. I said no to her and she got upset. I then pulled out a mechanical pencil - I always read with a writing utensil in my hand to make notes - she then began grabbing at my pencil. I had to fought her off . . . nearly beat her off. All the while her mother simply ignored her and the torture she was putting me through.

So, by the time we arrived at the gorgeous view of the beaches from high up in the mountains I decided that it would be a horrible idea to pull out my digital camera for the Vietnamese girl would surely attack me to get her hands on it.

Sometime in the early afternoon we arrived in Hue and as apart of the whole "Get as much money out of the Foreigner" scheme that exists in the tourism industry here in Vietnam the bus took us to a hotel for us to have a look at. Too tired to go on a hotel hunt I decided to simply stay at the hotel and leave it at that.

After showering up it was time to eat. With an English couple who I had met way back in Cambodia we set out for food. We ended up at a cafe where we ran into Aaron Brumo. I first met Aaron in Saigon. He is an architect and is now traveling around the world on a University Fellowship from Berkley in California. He is maintaining a website at http://www.arch.ced.berkeley.edu/people/students/branner

I strongly recommend that you check out Aaron's website for you will find pictures of many of the places I have been to in Southeast Asia.

After eating we all made our way to the Forbidden Purple City. In order to do so we had to cross the Tran Tien Bridge. The Song Huong river cuts through Hue. It is an old and extremely large river and as a result as I crossed it via the Tran Tien Bridge I felt like I was crossing the Charles River back in Boston.

The Forbidden Purple City sits within a moated citadel. Construction began on the citadel in 1804 by Emperor Gia Long. The Forbidden Purple City served as the private residence of the emperor. In front of the southern gate of the citadel you will see a tall but unimpressive flagpole. This is the tallest flagpole in Vietnam. Most of the construction and design of the Forbidden Purple City seems to be heavily influenced by Chinese style and architecture. I must confess though that I was not heavily impressed with the royal buildings within the citadel. Most of it had been destroyed in warfare (but I do nopt know whether or not it was bombed during the Vietnam War or American War as the Vietnamese know it as).

After exploring the Forbidden Purple City we - the English couple and I; Aaron decided to stay a bit - decided to take two cyclo's back to our hotel.

In the evening we met up with Aaron in his hotel and then crossed the river again to have dinner at a place called Lac Thanh Restaurant where a big sign out front said that, "The Food is Awesome!" We sat on a small balcony on the second floor overlooking the river and the corner street night activity of scooters and people speeding and crossing according to the rules and laws of Chaos.

After dinner we walked south to the Phu Xuan Bridge and crossed it to return to our hotels.

June 4th - The Boat Tour of the Royal Tombs
To be totally honest by this time in the trip I was burnt out on temples, tombs, and tours. Whether or not it was a good idea for me to go on this tour - I dont know. But, I did it. The tour was a basic toursit trap of "You Buy, You Buy," every time we stopped to look at temples or tombs. I was growing more and more annoyed and pissed off.

To quickly sum this up for Im eager to dig into my final Hanoi and Vietnam opinions and rants on the tour I saw the Tombs of the Nguyen Dynasty (1802-1945). When I return to the U.S. I will read up on these tombs, but for now . . . Im burnt out on taking notes on the history of another Southeast Asian country.

Yet again,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-07T01:25:00.000-07:00

June 2nd - Hoi An

Hoi An is a pleasant little town. It is quiet and a break from the insane number of scooters running around Saigon. It is situated along the Thu Bon river. It is small enough to cover the entire town by foot in a few hours. From my hotel I walked down Phan Dung Phung street and found myself swatting away requests from the locals to walk with them to their tailor shop.

Hoi An is a popular stop for many tourist to get a tailored - and well made - suit or dress or whatever clothing needs you may have.

I did not have enough time to get a tailored made suit - I was only going to be in Hoi An for about 24 hours - but this did not keep anyone from telling me that yes indeed they could make and fit a suit for me in that small amount of time. Regardless the last thing I wanted was a suit. I dont find suits comfortable and for as long as I can remember I have always hated wearing a uniform - I went to Catholic school when I was a kid - and for me a "corporate" business suit is a uniform. No thank you, dont need a suit, or want one.

I turned right along Le Loi street and began heading down toward the river. Along Le Loi I discovered a unique display of old - and I believe French colonial - buildings. The paint was fading on many of the buildings and years of grim had accumulated on parts of their walls. This all gave these buildings their charm. Most of the buildings served as homes and shops. The shops located on the ground floor and the homes located on the second.

The road that run along the river is Bach Dang. It has some cute little Vietnamese restaurants that caters to foreign travelers. As I walked east along the river I kept turning my head from the river to the street before me to the buildings to my left. The river has various floating vessels: semi-large wooden ships, to small boats that can hold 15 people, to a round water proof basket that can hold one person. Men can be seen fishing in the river and as I walked further and further east I happened upon the Central Market of Hoi An.

After two months of traveling I think I am nearly exhausted of seeing markets. I nearly veered away from the market but I finally decided to enter it and see what I would find. The portion of the market located right next to the river was where all the fish was bought and sold; which makes sense since the boats along the river would park there and unload all their fish into the market.

The market runs from north to south so after seeing and smelling the fish portion of the market I walked north and found the products of the market swift from meats to vegetables to lettuce to roots to herbs and spices to products for the home such as tools and appliances. Again within the market I was constantly approached by locals to go into a tailor shop and get a suit. From that point forth I believe all I said in Hoi An was, "No . . . No thank you . . . I dont need a suit . . . because I dont need a suit . . . because Im a musician and I dont need a suit . . . no I dont need a rock and roll sort of suit . . . please leave me alone . . . For the love of God - LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Seeking to escape the constant want of the locals to sell me something I decided to cross the Cam Nam bridge to get to the Cam Nam village. To get to the bridge I had to go to Hoang Dieu street. The portion of the street near the bridge is dedicated to shoe shops. Every kind of show you can imagine is sold on this street. Shoes, shoes, and more shoes. Again all I said here was, "No . . . you see those . . . they are shoes . . . no I dont need another pair of shoes . . . yes my shoes are ugly but Im traveling so I dont care . . . please go away . . . Please - for the sake of my sanity - leave me alone!"

I spent about two to three hours walking around Cam Nam village. There really wasnt much to see there but it was quiet and no one bothered me verbally. They would stare though. But the kids were cute and at times I would hear a tiny sweet little voice say, "hello."
I would turn to face the voice and find a cute little Vietnamese girl or boy. Amazing how young these kids are taught to learn English . . . so that when they group up they too can charge the streets of Hoi An and bother the tourists to buy something.

In the afternoon I returned to my hotel and rested and in the evening I went out and had a small meal in a very darkly lit coffee shop. As I waited for my food a woman whose husband owned the coffee shop approached me and befriended me . . . soon enough though she passed her tailor shop card to me. I told her I was leaving the next morning and that there was no possible way for her to make me a suit in such a short amount of time. She insisted that I stop by her shop after I eat. I agreed just to entertain her and myself. She also insisted that I stop by the next morning before I leave for Hue to have breakfast. I agreed as well.

After I finished my meal I stopped by the tailor shop just to take a look. The woman I had spoken to in the coffee shop was no where to be seen. But, as soon as I walked in there was a commotion of activity. Two men came up to me and I asked for the woman. One of them then ran up to the second floor to get her. She then came down - I could see that she had been washing her hair - she greeted me and then began showing me all the clothing in their shop. I agreed that it was all very nice. She then pointed to some robes and said that I should buy one. Although they were nice I didnt want to buy one . . . I didnt want to carry it. I explained over and over that I didnt want to buy. Soon enough I was out of there.

I then walked a bit around town to get a feel of the night life there. I came across an interesting Chinese temple that was having some sort of festival celebration. So many people of all ages were walking into and out of the temple. There was a stage set up, and high above it was a buddha child that had neon lights flashing all around it. There was traditional music blasting from speakers and an announcer who announced the different dancing and singing acts. I stood and watched a couple of acts. The acts that I saw were of young Vietnamese women in traditional dress dancing in an ancient style. I, as long with nearly everyone in the audience - except for the young children who could have cared less - were enchanted by these young dancing women. For me there is nothing more peaceful or more beautiful than the sight of a woman dancing with slow ease and grace.

Many around me stared at me. I was the only foreigner within the crowd of people within the temple. I smiled to the young kids who would shy away by hiding their faces behind their parents legs.

When I had seen enough I left and walked back to my hotel.

Along the way I looked into the homes of families who all kept their front doors way open. I would often see children or adults watching television. And it all the homes I always saw a Chinese shrine right in front of the main entrance. The size of the shrines would vary from small to extremely large, some were so large that they would reach from the floor to the ceiling.

It was here in Hoi An that I was beginning to feel the strong cultural influences of China.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-07T01:15:00.000-07:00

June 1st to 2nd - Overnight bus from Nha Trang to Hoi An

I had some time to kill on the 1st of June. My bus for Hoi An was not going to pick me up from my hotel until about 5 o'clock or so. I had to check out of my hotel at 12 and so I wanted to keep my cool - or stay cool - until my bus picked me up. So I decided against staying out in the sun for too long. I didnt want to sweat and be all sticky for the 12 hour bus ride to Hoi An.

I woke up early and decided that the intensity of the sun wasnt too bad, or not bad enough for me to keep from taking a stroll along the long beaches of Nha Trang. Close to noon I went into an Indian restaurant that had a decent curry but a crappy nan bread. After that I returned to my hotel, washed up, and checked out. I still had many hours to kill and so I went to the internet cafe and cleaned out my hotmail account and I believe I worked a bit more on my digital journal.

Other than all this it was a pretty relaxed and uneventful day. The bus ride as well to Hoi An was uneventful.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-07T00:23:00.000-07:00

Final Thoughts on Saigon

What I forgot to mention in regards to my earlier descriptions of Saigon are the women and what they consider to be beautiful. Beauty is purity, or in other words purity of skin. The whiter the skin the more desirable the woman is to a Vietnamese man. I wish I could speak a bit of Vietnamese so that I could find out for myself whether or not men in Vietnam are really obsessed with white skin or if it is just a myth that all women here seem to believe. One indication though that "whiteness of skin" is beautiful are the advertisements here. Just as in the West (1st World Nations) the use of models who have extremely white skin are often, if not always, used for advertisements, commercials - and it seems that all pop-stars and actresses here also have extremely white skin. About every advertisement I have seen in Vietnam has always included a Vietnamese woman with perfect white skin.

This obsession for white skin has lead to nearly every woman, of ages beginning in the early teens to the late 50's and 60's, to cover up as much of their body as possible before venturing out into public and the glare of the sun. The heat in Vietnam is intense. I find that I need to take two to three showers a day; and Im walking around in shorts and a T-shirt. The women here though wear long pants and if they wear a short-sleeved shirt they put on thin and very long gloves that goes all the way up their biceps so that their entire arm is covered. Then to keep their face out of the sun they wear a hat, sunglasses, and a cloth that they use to cover everything below their eyes - which they tie behind their heads. You will see thousands of woman on scooters driving around the streets of Saigon completely covered up. It is nearly rare to see the face of a Vietnamese woman. It often makes me wonder if these women would rather prefer to live in Iran. They would feel at home there with all the other Muslim women who have to cover up every inch of their body.

This obsession for covering up to avoid being tanned by the sun is something that I find ridiculous. But it happens in all societies. Those of us who have a low self-esteem are quick to do anything a commercial tells us inorder to look more attractive of beautiful to the public eye.

Then there are all the skin whitening creams that are all the rave in Vietnam. Women buying and trying all assortments of creams to apply to their skin to maintain their whiteness or to whiten their skin.

So, the question remains. What do you find beautiful? What is beauty? What is beauty as defined by your culture, your society? There are all sorts of beautiful aspects of one's self. There is physical beauty, the beauty of one's character, of one's abilities, of one's thoughts and perspectives.

The women of Vietnam, and Thai women, look at Western Caucasian women perplexed as to why they want to ruin their beautiful white skin by laying out in the sun for hours on the beautiful beaches of either Vietnam or Thailand. Here we may understand the difference in what these cultures - East and West - regard as beautiful and its connection with wealth.

A woman I met from Holland was on her way to Indonesia. She expressed to me, "There is no way I can go back to my country after such a long vacation without a tan. I am going to Indonesia to relax after all these months of backpacking and to get a nice tan before returning home."

In the West (1st World Nations) it can be argued to an extent that getting a tan is a sort of status symbol. That you as a Western individual could afford the expensive trip to some exotic beach to tan and have fun in the sun. Here a tan is beautiful because for a few weeks it is apparent to all back home that you have traveled, relaxed on an exotic beach, and could afford it. Here a tan is beautiful because in some respects it can be equated with wealth.

In Thailand and Vietnam it is believed that only the poor are found working out in the heat of the sun. They are the farmers breaking their backs in rice fields and so forth. The rich are those who work within the comforts of an office. They are rarely out in the sun and thus have white skin. So here we can see that again beauty in Southeast Asian countries such as Thailand and Vietnam are equated in some respects with wealth.

The Slums of Saigon
One thing that I was very shocked to find in Saigon were the slums. My initial image of Saigon was simply that of a city no different from the one's I had seen in Thailand or Malaysia. Of course all cities have their ghettos and so forth but the slums I found in Saigon were the worst I have ever seen in Southeast Asia. I have never been to Manila in the Philippines but the slums I found in Saigon looked like the pictures I have seen of the slums in Manila.

The slums are located at the corner of district 5, 8, 1, 4, and 7. It is there where the Kinh Doi, Rach Ben Nghe, Kinh Te, and the Rach Ong Lon rivers meet. At this intersection the rivers are black. It is so polluted that it is nearly beyond belief to realize and see with your very own eyes that the river is black, black, black. And along the sides of the river you will see the most decrepit homes made from pieced together pieces of wood and metal. Thousands of these shack homes are all piled on top of each other, stretching from the streets of Saigon to all the way down to the black polluted waters of the rivers. It is a horrible sight but one that you should see if you find yourself in Saigon.

May 30th to 31st - Bus Trip to Saigon to Nha Trang, May 31st - Nha Trang
This was to be the first of several interesting bus trips that I would take from the south of Vietnam to the north. My bus departed from Saigon around 8. But it was not just a bus transporting only people and their luggage. Oh no. It also doubled as a cargo bus transporting goods and so forth. On this bus giant wind surfer board was places between all the seats. It was clearly a hazard for it made it nearly impossible for the passengers to get from one end of the bus to the other. But, there doesnt seem to be many lawsuits in Vietnam so this "hazard" was of no real concern to the bus company.

The ride to Nha Trang took about 10 hours or so. We arrived bright an early in Nha Trang. Still waking up I decided to use the services of a tout to take me on his scooter to a hotel that he recommended and would get a "kick back" from. The hotel he took me to was just in front of the beach and was cheap and clean and so I took it. I took a shower and went to bed with the air-conditioner on. I woke up around noon and decided to simply take it easy in Nha Trang. There were no major sights that I had to see. Nha Trang is a beach resort sort of town. The beaches are beautiful and pleasant and most of the city near the beach caters to the Vietnamese and foreign tourists that flock there. Although I did not go to Mui Ne I heard from many that the town of Mui Ne and its beaches are simply the best and far superior to the feel and commercialism of Nha Trang.

So for the 31st of May I simply took it easy by eating and catching up on some emails and my digital journal. I was also trying to rest a bit since I was a little sick with a cold.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-06-01T02:11:00.000-07:00

A Day at the Table
A work of fiction by Domenico Italo Composto

The first thing to hit Nicholas upon his arrival to Saigon was the heat. It was nearly the end of May and Vietnam was bracing itself for the monsoon rains that had yet to come. Saigon seemed to him to be a city of streets filled with an unbelievable number of scooters; none of which paid any attention to him as tried to cross from one block to the next.

He had been in Saigon for five days. He didnt want to leave. He had found refuge in his guest house room. It was clean, pleasant, and most important of all it had an air conditioner. He paid $6 a night for his room.

A door adjacent to his bathroom opened up to a tiny balcony; it was so small that one could only stand on it, to sit in a chair was simply impossible. Although he never used the balcony he loved the fact that he had one. And when given the chance he would brag to fellow travelers that his room did indeed have a balcony, of course he would never mention just how small it was.

He got home most nights just past midnight. The family that ran his small guest house were usually in bed, asleep, at that hour. He would have to ring the door bell. Moments later a head with tired eyes would pop out a window just to see who was rining the bell at such an hour. Moments after that a side door to the guest house would open and Nicholas would enter taking off his shoes while apologizing to the father of the household.

Since he had a TV in his room Nicholas would watch a bit of the Discovery Channel. A program he found interesting to watch every night was about forensic crime scenes. He would have prefered to watch the BBC or CNN but his guest house did not subscribe to those channels.

On the morning of the 30th Nicholas woke up at around 6:10. He had a breakfast date; two in fact. He had to meet Estelle, a beautiful French woman of Lao and Vietnamese mix, at 7 and then he had to meet Jacky, who was from South Africa, and Carmen and Zaira, who were both from Barcelona, at 10 in the a.m.

Struggling to get out of bed and regretful that that morning was to be his last in Saigon Nicholas finally got up. He noticed that his throat was a bit raw. The air conditioner had dried it. He prayed that it would not develop into a soar throat.

After showering and getting dressed and checking the locks on his bag for the third or fourth time Nicholas left his room and descended three floors. He passed the living room of the guest house saying hello to the Vietnamese family that ran it and took his shoes out of a cupboard before stepping out into an alley just off from Bui Vien street. He quickly put on his shoes while looking at the children just a meter or two away in another home watching TV while eating their breakfast.

The cafe he was to meet Estelle in was just a few seconds from his guest house. He walked out onto Bui Vien street and saw Estelle rushing to be on time. He saw that she did not see him. She crossed the street and he called out to her. She looked back, smiled, and waved hello.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Estelle greeted Nicholas.

"No, no don't worry. As you can see the Cafe is not even properly open yet."

Estelle and Nicholas then walked into the French Cafe. Nicholas was disappointed though to see that there were barely any pastries in the counter windows. He wanted Estelle to have a fine selection of pastries to choose from but it appeared that the day's pastries had yet to be delivered to the Cafe. But, Estelle explained that she wasnt feeling well and that all she wanted was yoghurt. She ordered as Nicholas went over what few pastries were left from the previous day.

After ordering both Estelle and Nicholas walked up the steps leading to the second floor of the Cafe. They sat at a table that overlooked the early morning activity of Bui Vien street.

The first and last time these two travelers had met each other was in Luang Prabang in Laos.

Then, more than two weeks later and by shear coincidence, the two ran into each other while on a separate tour of the Mekong Delta. They agreed to meet for breakfast and thus this is how they now found themselves enjoying an early morning coffee drink in Saigon.

They asked each other questions of details and facts that they had remembered from their previous meeting in Laos. The conversation was quiet and pleasant. Anything more than that would have been too much for such an early hour.

After breakfast Estelle explained that she was going to go to the Reunification Palace. Nicholas knew the way and had more than an hour to kill before his second breakfast meeting. He decided to walk with Estelle to her destination. He enjoyed her company, particularly her sweet English accent. The curiosities of Saigon appeared from corners and cracks catching both of their eyes and attention. Soon enough though they had reached the Reunification Palace and it was time to say goodbye. If and when they will ever see each other again . . . the gods only know.

Nicholas returned to Bui Vien street with a slight skip in his walk. He was happy. He had about 20 minutes more to kill before 10 a.m. and so he decided to check his email. 25 minutes in the internet cafe went by and Nicholas had not succeeded in opening a single email. His computer's connection was too painfully slow. He paid the bill for the internet service which did not serve him and met up with Jacky, Zaira, and Carmen outside the Southern Hotel.

He apologized for his tardiness and led the group back to the same French Cafe he had breakfast in with Estelle. They all ordered; Nicholas happily ordered more pastries for his belly.

And there they were: an American gent, a South African lady, and two Princess of Spain. The hours passed as if they were minutes. Nicholas loved the animated gestures of Zaira and Carmen. He most especially loved their relationship. Zaira and Carmen were friends. But, they behaved as if they were a couple. They knew eachother's mind, heart, and spirit. They could read each other. They understood one another. They possessed between them what many married couples dream of, strive for, fight for but never achieve or find. They were free within their relationship to simply be who they were without bending or changing too far out of shape. They had found a pleasant nest to lay in within their relationship. So pleasant that they were free to act and feel like spirited children again; joking with each other and the world they found themselves in and interacted with. Through them Nicholas and Jacky found hope that yes indeed there are two individual souls that can find each other, fall into one another, support the other, and interdepend. They were hope. Yes, indeed. They were hope.

The afternoon sun rose high into the sky and hunger began to pelt their stomachs. They called the waitress over and ordered their mid-afternoon meal. The conversation between the four travelers continued as did the laughter they shared. And all the while Nicholas thought of his past and what his future would bring.

He could feel it. A part of himself beginning to die. Making room for something new, something he had never known before. And he welcomed this death with sadness and a smile. He, at 27, felt old and tired. Solitude so often his friend. So much had he done only to come home to the quiet of night and dark. He could sense that this long journey through the heart of the Old World would be his last alone. Somewhere over the Ocean that would send him back to his home would he begin to find his new life with his future wife . . . whoever she may be.

2004-05-31T02:32:00.000-07:00

Saigon Notes from May 27th to May 30th

Im behind on my journal. To make things a bit easier for me Im going to combine all my thoughts and observations on Saigon from May 27th to May 30th into one entry. As a result this will be a long entry. But I will divide it with appropriate headings.

The "Same, Same, But Different" Philosophy of Saigon

My Guest House is on Bui Vien road which as I have mentioned in a previous journal entry is the Khao San Road of Vietnam. Khao San is the most famous - or infamous depending on how you want to perceive it - back packers Guest House road in Bangkok. Bui Vien is a colorful street. If you take a good look at the thin but extremely high (5 to 6 to 7 storey) Guest Houses you will notice that they are painted in attractive colors of light green, pink, or blue. All the shops are located on the ground floor. The majority of the shops are Mom and Pop shops and also double as the entrance into the homes of the families that run these shops. The Vietnamese are opposite to the Japanese in this sense. The Japanese are very private about their surroundings. Their businesses, shops, restaurants, bars, hostess clubs, and homes are all hidden behind walls, tinted windows, and doorways. The Japanese take the necessary precautions to ensure that no "outsider" can see within their establishments or homes. The Vietnamese on the other hand could honestly care less who looks into their places of work or homes.

My Guest House is in an alley filled with apartment homes for Vietnamese families. The ground floor of their homes has a metallic gate that they open and close in the morning and at night. During the day they simply leave this metallic gate completely home. Look and see beyond this gate and you will find that you are looking directly into their living room which for some doubles as a shop selling drinks, food, or some other goods. Every morning I walk through the living area of my Guest House and sit outside taking the time to put on my shoes. As I do so I look around at the activity in the alley and into the living rooms of the homes all around my Guest House. I can see children just a meter or two away from me watching TV, or teenagers playing pirated video games. There is always a small shrine - the shrine looks to be Chinese in origin - used and devoted to the ancestors of the family. No one can care less about who is looking into their home. They are not embarrassed to blow or pick their nose out in public. They, in a sense, are apathetic to what others may think of them and for that I love them all the more.

All along Bui Vien there are Travel Agencies catering to all the back packers living in one of the Guest Houses on the street. There are Italian restaurants and French Cafe's. There was one French Cafe in particular that I spent every morning in. I sort of became a regular breakfast patron who sat in the same chair and table every morning on the second floor looking down below at all the activity on the street.

You will notice on Bui Vien that there are C.D. shops. Walk in and you will find pirated C.D.'s of every musical genre. And you will find pirated computer software and video games for Play Station 2 as well. The prices for these C.D.'s are ridiculously cheap. So cheap that Happy Tours - a travel agency - will give all its customers a voucher after they have bought a tour to pick up a free C.D. at one of these C.D. shops. The tours that they offer cost no more than 5 to 6 U.S. dollars. I should also mention that DVD's abound in these C.D. shops. I met a group from New Zealand who had bought 36 DVD's for under $40 U.S.

This is simply one example of the "Same, Same, but Different" capitalist philosophy in Vietnam that I am finding - funny that Vietname is technically a Communist country. Vietnam is the cheapest country to travel through in Southeast Asia - in my opinion at least. For me it is cheaper than Laos, Cambodia, and Myanmar. You can stay in a beautiful hotel here for under $10 a night - complete with a TV in your room, Air-Con, even a fridge. You can buy a canned Coke for less than 40 cents U.S. You can have a large delicious pizza for less than 2 to 3 dollars. You can drink a pitcher of beer for about a dollar. And these are the prices for foreigners. The local prices are even lower than that. And today I learned from my waitress at a restaurant that she makes about $1 a day. As a result of the fact that the Vietnamese make so little they simply can not afford genuine 1st World articles such as a DVD, or CD, or scooter. The original brand is way beyond what they can afford. But they want these products nonetheless. So they improvise. They make products that are the "Same, Same, but Different." You can buy a pirated DVD. The quality of the DVD looks no different from the unpirated one. It is the same . . . yet different. And books. There are millions of books that you can buy that have been photocopied perfectly page for page from an original. I have bought a few books here that are the "same, same, but different" from the original. I am sure that 1st World companies such as Penguin Books, Sony, and North Face back packs are up in arms with the fact that Southeast Asia is a breeding ground for entrepreneurs copying and pirating their products for a massize buying market. I am sure that they are loosing billions of dollars as a result of all of this. Do I care . . . honestly do I have any freaking sympathy for these massive conglomerate 1st World Nation corporations??? HELL NO!!!

Countries like Vietnam and Cambodia and Lao and Myanmar are POOR COUNTRIES. They are countries that have been bombed and torn apart by 1st World nations such as the U.S., Japan (W.W. II), and France. And these poor Southeast Asian countries are still suffering from the messy wars countries like France, England, and the U.S. had waged in this part of the world. Rural families in Cambodia, Lao, and Vietnam still run into unexploded ordinances (UXO) that the U.S. or France had littered all over their country. You will see people in Vietnam who have lost their hands and arms or legs to bombs, and you will see babies born with the most horrific mutations imaginable as a result of the chemical warfare the U.S. waged in Vietnam.

I will later discuss what effects "Agent Orange" has had and continues to have on the children of Vietnam.

Since the U.S. never bothered to clean up the mess that the left behind after tearing up a country like Vietnam apart do you honestly think that the people of Vietnam or individual back packers like myself give two s$#ts that big media corporations like VIACOM are loosing millions of dollars to pirated goods in Southeast Asia??? No, I dont give a f**k!!! Let the pirating industry continue to flourish in countries like Vietnam. The Vietnamese today can not afford the high prices of genuine western goods. But everyone wants them due the wonders of western marketing and advertising. Let the Vietnamese buy pirated C.D.'s, DVD's, books, and clothing. They deserve to have them and enjoy them at the cost of the money lost by 1st World corporations. It is the least we can do for them after the fact that we from 1st World Nations (the U.S., Japan, France, and so forth) have ripped their countries apart - killing millions of civilians - and left without botherig to clean up our mess.

Other examples of this "Same, Same, But Different" capitalist philosophy in Vietnam are paintings and scooters. You will find gallery shops filled with hand painted copies of master pieces from your favorite artists - from Dali to Leonardo Da Vinci to Picasso.

I have learned that 5 years ago Vietnam was not as littered with scooters as it is today. There are barely any traffic lights in Saigon and if you find one you will see that the Vietnamese pay little attention to these traffic lights. Cars are few and far between. It is nearly impossible to afford even thinking about buying a car in Vietnam. The next best solution is a scooter. Cheap scooters from China that have been designed to look like its expensive Japanese counterparts have been flooding into Myanmar, Lao, Cambodia, and Vietnam by the tens of thousands. You will see an entire family riding and balancing themselves on these small scooters. You will see men driving on their scooter with a refrigerator strapped to the back. And you will see couples parading their scooters around the round-about where Tran Hung Dao steet meets Le Loi steet. You will also see couples resting near a park near this round-about at night. They are all simply sitting on their small scooter holding each other, talking to each other, and so forth. It is a common joke among Vietnamese young men that they can never pick up a girl unless they have a good looking scooter.

This is an example of the type of materialism that is stereotyped about the people who live in Saigon.

The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Vietnam War

3.5 million Vietnamese were killed in the war that began with the French and ended with the American withdrawal from Saigon. Can you guess how many U.S. soldiers were killed in the war? Do you think the number of U.S. deaths even came close to a million? No. 58,000 U.S. soldiers lost their lives in combat in Vietnam. How many U.S. lives will be lost in Iraq when we finally depart from the country? Why did we go to war with Iraq again? Can someone remind me? Weapons of Mass Destruction . . . yes that's it. Wait a minute . . . there never were Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq. So can someone - George W. Bush in particular - please explain to me in extreme detail why the U.S. - my country - went to war with another poor nation such as Iraq? Please, someone. I invite anyone out their to send me an email at thedragonbone@hotmail.com to email me and to tell me exactly why the hell we went to war in Iraq.

My sarcasm is a result of the fact that the last three countries I have been to - Lao, Cambodia, and Vietnam - are all poor nations that felt the effects both indirect and direct of U.S. warfare. After seeing how the people in these countries continue to suffer to this day as a result of the Vietnam War I find it difficult to find any reason to ever support any war beyond the one we fought during World War II.

Getting back to the facts. 3.5 million Vietnamese lost their lives in the Vietnam War compared to 58,000 U.S. deaths. From 3.5 million Vietnamese deaths 200,000 were babies and children. 2.5 million were civilians. 1 million were Viet Khong soldiers. Australia sent 7,000 troops of that 500 died. You may not know this but South Korea, New Zealand, Thailand, and the Philippines also sent troops to Vietnam to fight alongside with the Americans.

The US government sent 6.5 million soldiers to Vietnam and spent 352 billion dollars on the war.

The U.S. killed so many Vietnamese civilians because they simply did not know who was who. A South Vietnamese friend by day could be a Viet Khong fighter at night. This confusion of who the enemy was resulted in the destruction of villages with very little discrimination.

The U.S. dropped 5,382,000 million tons of bombs on Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam making this the historical record for the most amount of bombs ever dropped during any war. The target of these bombs was along the Ho Chi Minh trail which was 16,000 kilometers long and swerved in and out of Vietnam into Laos and Cambodia.

937,300 tons of bombs were dropped in the Northern areas of Vietnam and 4,444,700 tons were dropped on the Southern regions.

A chemical agent called "Agent Orange" was used by the U.S. to detroy all forms of vegetation on mountains and targetted landscapes in Vietnam. This chemical agent poisoned the land and seeped into the ground water and natural food supply of the people living along the Ho Chi Minh trail and other targeted areas. This agent caused severe mutations in adult Vietnamese and their children and newborn babies. These mutations are horrific. At The War Remnants Musuem I saw many pictures and video footage of these mutations that have left the faces of men and women twisted, melted, blind, enlarged, and beyond the ability for anyone to look at for more than a few seconds.

Today ultra-sound is used to detect whether or not a Vietnamese baby has been deformed due to the lingering effect of Agent Orange. If a baby is detected with serious deformities it is aborted.

For more information please click on this link - The Agent Orange Victims Fund @ http://www.vnrc.org.vn/orange_fund/

On the 27th of May I went to the Cu Chi Tunnels which is located about an hour I believe from Saigon, or more specifically 65 kilometers from Saigon. The Cu Chi area was nearly in the backyard of the former U.S. military base - this particular base had 10,000 U.S. soldiers stationed there - during the Vietnam war. It was here that some of the most sophisticated tunnel systems was developed by Viet Khong fighters.

Cu Chi covers 165 square kilometers and had about 300,000 Vietnamese living within it. By the end of the war about 44,145 Vietnamese were killed in Cu Chi. The tunnels built underground in Cu Chi in total were 250 kilometers long.

Getting into the logistics of the Vietnam War. To begin with the Viet Khong soldier was better equipped than his U.S. counterpart simply by the fact that the AK-47 was their weapon of choice whereas U.S. soldiers carried the M-16. The AK-47 I believe was a Chinese - or Russian - weapon supplied to the Viet Khong by China. It can hold 50 bullets and can also fire M-16 bullets. The M-16 can only hold 20 bullets. Just by the choice of firearm the U.S. soldier was out-matched.

The fighters in Cu Chi were supplied their weapons from the North. They got their supplies at the southern end of the Ho Chi Minh trail.

These rebels in the south of Vietnam were all volunteers. They were never paid. They were poor but extremely determined soldiers. Their shoes were made from car tires. The U.S. soldier and the South Vietnamese army were well-payed for their service.

The irony is that during the war many U.S. bases in South Vietnam hired South Vietnamese women to work in the base to cook and clean for them. These women worked from 8 to 4 making about $300 U.S. a month. After work many of these women would return to their villages supplying information about the layout of the base to rebel fighters, or they worked as rebel fighters themselves. At night many rebels would sneek into the U.S. bases with small amounts of TNT explosives and blow up buildings and so forth within the base.

Since it was feared that individuals within the South Vietnamese army were Viet Khong a camera was attached to the planes flown by South Vietnamese army pilots. If upon return it was discovered that the South Vietnamese army pilot bombed U.S. troops instead of the Viet Khong he was immediately shot without trial.

Many dud bombs were dropped over Vietnam. These dud's were then picked up by the Viet Khong and then inserted into a car that would be used to ram itself into a U.S. base or government building set to explode.

Many of the fighters in Cu Chi decided to fight against the U.S. simply because members of their families were accidentally killed by bombs dropped by B-52 air planes. They were simply seeking revenge.

The Viet Khong awarded medals to Vietnamese girls and recognized them as "American Killer Hero" to encourage more women to help in the cause of fighting against the U.S.

Because the majority of the Cu Chi fighters were farmers they resorted to using old farming techniques against the Americans. They used traps that they had once set against animals against U.S. soldiers. They dug elaborate bamboo traps into the ground. The most basic was a pit filled with sharp bamboo sticks that if you fell into it your feet and legs would by spiked by them.

The tunnels of Cu Chi were divided into three levels. The first and second level were used for fighting. The first level was 3 meters deep. The second level was 6 meters deep and the third level - used for living in and sleeping in - was 10 meters deep. The Cu Chi fighters living within the tunnels slept in hammocks so that they could sleep pleasantly during bombing raids that would rock the tunnels back and forth. Smoke from the kitchen chambers would flow into several compartments and then release above ground at a location far from the kitchen itself. The 2nd level was usually used for moving from one area of the tunnel to the other. This level was also full of traps set for any U.S. troops that broke into and invaded the tunnels.

The tunnels were all made by hand with the use of a basket to collect the dirt and a small shovel to dig into the dirt. There were plenty of wells reaching down into the ground water and there was enough available water within the tunnels for rebel fighters to take a bath 3 times a day.

Air holes were made by digging into the ground and placing a hallow bamboo stick into the ground. Over time the bamboo stick would decay but the long shaft of the air hole would remain.

I went with a group to see these tunnels and to be very honest I must say that I was incredibly impressed. We walked into the tunnels and traveled through them. I couldnt imagine living within this underground network but after seeing these tunnels I could not help but feel the strong determination the Vietnamese had in fighting off the U.S. and ruling their own country. Their determination is clearly present in these tunnels and after seeing these tunnels I can only have the upmost respect fot the people of Vietnam who fought to never be ruled by a western colony or nation. With barely anything they fought hard against the French and the against the U.S. to finally win their independence.

The War Remnants Museum

It is a must for anyone traveling to Saigon to go to this Museum. It can be argued - and I will completely agree with this arguement - that the Museum has its own agenda, that is has a propaganda edge to it, but it is completely interesting to see how the Vietnamese themselves portray the war, the French, and the U.S. What you will see here is the other side of the story. We in the U.S. have our movies and history books laced with our own perspectives and propaganda. It is also important for us to see the other side and find the truth somewhere between.

President Ho Chi Minh delivered the Declaration of Independence on September 2nd, 1945. From July 1946 to Jul 1948 the U.S. financed France with 1.2 billion dollars. U.S. aid increased by a billion dollars in 1954. The "Domino Doctrine" explained that Burma, India, and Indonesia would fall to communism thus began the U.S.'s concern for the fate of Vietnam if it fell to communism.

A good portion of the museum was dedicated to the victims of Agent Orange. The toxic chemicals of this herbacide spread that destroyed trees and vegetaion cased deformities in the hands, arms, legs, and feet of the Vietnamese. Children born from parents who had been affected by Agent Orange had facial deformities such as unusual growths around their bodies or overgrown heads. Many were born blind. Some were born with no eyes or flesh completely covering their eye sockets.

The Coconut Camp
From 1953 to 1954 the French built a prison that was later nick named the Coconut Prison. It was built on the Phu Quoc which is the largest island in Vietnam and it was meant to keep no more than 14,000 prisoners. It was 600 square kilometers in size. During its use it housed 30 to 40,000 prisoners.

The torture techniques used by the French varied: pins were stuck into fingertips, snakes placed into women's trousers, electric shock used, beatings from clubs and hammers, etc. Some prisoners were beaten so heavily that they left with arms or legs that were completely paralyzed.

They ate only small portions of food which usually was composed of decayed fish, vegetables, and meat. Only half a can of drinking water was giving to prisoners a day. Very little water was given to female prisoners during their menstrual cycle.

"Tiger Cages" were used for political prisoners. During the hot season 5 to 14 prisoners were placed within one of these "cages". The prisoners ankles were shackled to a long iron bar limiting their movement within the cell.

O.k. I think I have typed as much as I can about all of this. If you are interested in learning more then simply search the internet for more information or visit your local library or go to your nearest book store.

May the Force be With You . . . Always,
Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-05-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

May 26th, 2004 - Journey from Phnom Penh, Cambodia to Saigon, Vietnam

The bus journey was pleasant. There were no flat tires or rebel pirates attacking our bus to steal our backpacks full of dirty clothes. On the journey with me were a couple from England and a fellow American who I had met in my Guest House back in Phnom Penh. We chatted away about a certain individual that we were happy to leave behind and hopefully never seen again. I wont go into details but to give you an idea - this individual backpacker did not even know where the hell Saigon was.

That is all I will say about that.

The border crossing of Moc Bai looked like a bomb had destroyed the area. I felt as if the Vietnam War had never ended. There were muddy roads and scattered shack buildings. We got our exit stamps on our Cambodian visa's and then walked over into Vietnam to get our passport stamped for entry. The entire process took nearly 2 hours. And the afternoon sun and the humid heat did not add to our enthusiasm to go through this tiring immigration process.

In Lao and Cambodia I had heard from fellow backpackers of how ruthless and pushy the Vietnamese were. I had heard horror story after horror story of how backpackers had been cheated in many elaborate ways out of their money. As a result I was not looking forward to arriving into Saigon.

But before I get talking about Saigon I should mention that I had my money changed at the border. Since I was not careful at all at counting my Vietnamese dong I latter realized that the lady who changed my U.S. dollars had shorted me about $5 worth of dong.

Ohh well . . .

The first two thing that will shock you upon your entrance into Saigon are: One, the unbelievable number of scooters overcrowding all the roads crisscrossing this way and that with little regard for traffic lights or simple road rules.

Two, the size of the city. Saigon seems to stretch in all direction forever. There are no skyscrapers tearing apart the sky though. Most building are usually no more than 5 or 6 storeys.

Our bus dropped us all off on Bui Vien road which is also like the Khao San Road of Bangkok. It is a road full of back packer Guest Houses, travel agencies, and restaurants. No touts attacked us when we got off the bus. I was surprised. And as I went on my search for a Guest House with the friends I had traveled with in my bus we all found the Vietnamese to be very pleasant and apathetic of trying to sell us anything. As a result I immediately began to like Saigon. All through out Thailand and Cambodia I was harrassed to get into a Tuk Tuk or buy some illegally copied book, or T-shirt, or whatever. In Saigon there is far less of that.

After showering up in my immaculately clean single room I decided to walk around Saigon to see what I would happen upon. I found millions more scooters parading around all the streets, beautiful Vietnamese school girls wearing their traditional Vietnamese uniforms, Vietnamese food vendors - with their thatched cone hats - walking around and carrying two large steel pots that hung from the opposite ends of a long stick they placed on their shoulders. I also found two unusual buildings that I believe served as brothels. The buildings were extremely dark within but there was a neon sign on the outside advertising it as an Ice Cream store. But it was an uninviting place to get ice cream. As I stood watching the activity around these two buildings I realized that for its size (4 storeys), layout, and the men and women working outside of it that it was an up-scale brothel of some sort.

I walked a bit more and soon enough I ended up in a French Cafe eating a baguet sandwich and drinking some ice tea. I then retired to my room for the night.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

2004-05-27T22:04:00.000-07:00

May 25th, 2004 - Happy Pizza Relaxing Day

Today was uneventful and restful. The Happy Pizza I had had the night before had made me extremely tired and sluggish. I was in no mood to do anything today. I just wanted to rest and attempt catching up on my digital journal.

After breakfast at Tara's Guest House - Tara is a Canadian girl I had met back in Siem Reap - I went to the internet cafe. I typed and typed but found my ability to focus a bit off and slow. After that I returned to Tara's Guest House and simply took a nap on a hammock on a porch terrace over looking Boeng Kak Lake.

After that it was more pleasant sleeping.

And that was simply my day.

I should mention that Tara's Guest House is at the end of a ruined street. On my walks to her Guest House at night I was always approached by a Cambodian teenager who wanted to sell me either Marijuana or Cocaine.

Don't worry, I didnt buy anything :)

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp

P.S. I will never have another Happy Pizza again.

2004-05-27T20:45:00.000-07:00

May 24th, 2004 - The Shooting Range, The Killing Fields, S-21, and Happy Pizza

I arrived at a shooting range far outside the city of Phnom Penh in a group of three - Shane, Annie, and I - upon scooters navigated by Cambodian men.

I had first heard about this shooting range while I was living in Japan; and now there I was in the middle of an open field sitting at a table looking over a menu of firearms that I could rent and shoot.

The Menu of Fire-arms read as follows:

RIFLES:
AK-47 - 30 bullets - $20 U.S.
M16 - 30 bullets - $30 U.S.
UZI - 30 bullets - $30 U.S.
K50 - 30 bullets - $30 U.S.
Shotgun - 5 bullets - $20 U.S.

HANDGUNS:
CZ75 - 13 bullets - $26 U.S.
K59 - 8 bullets - $16 U.S.
K54 - 8 bullets - $10 U.S.
45ACP - 7 bullets - $10 U.S.
Revolver 38 - 6 bullets - $12 U.S.
Rager 22 - 10 bullets - $12 U.S.
Hand grenade - 1 grenage - $20.00

MACHINE GUNS:
M60 - 100 bullets - $100.00
RPD (Russian) - 150 bullets - $100.00
Rocket Launcher - 1 missle - $200.00

I had heard from backpackers in my Guest House that for an extra hunderd dollars - on top of the $200 for the rocket launcher - you can attempt to blow up a live cow.

Sitting at the table I asked one of the men working at the Firing Range if I could attempt to incinerate a cow if I rented the rocket launcher. He nodded his head yes. A man from Holland then asked, "Can we keep the meat?" The man said no but that they would cook the cow and I could eat it after I blew it up.

I could not believe it. Still now I dont believe it. But the next day I heard from other backpackers explain that they saw other travelers shooting ducks and chickens at the same Firing Range.

So, as a perk to traveling to Phnom Penh you can rent guns and rocket launchers and kill innocent animals ???

I was not going to kill any animals but I did want to experience firing an automatic weapon, so for $20 U.S. I rented an AK-47 loaded with 30 rounds of bullets. I was escorted into an enclosed brick building with an extremely long hall. At the end of the hall was my target. One of the Cambodian men working at the firing range prepared my gun and after I put on my headphones to protect my ears I shot my first round. I turned to Shane who accompanied me into the building with a face filled with shock. Firing this weapon was one of the scariest experiences I have ever had. The gun kicked back with extreme speed and the bullet was invisibe . . . it is simply amazing to see with your own eyes how incredibly fast a bullet is. I could never imagine being shot by a bullet - feeling it tear through your skin, throwing you back by its force and speed. I then looked into the gun's sight and fired again and again trying to hit my target. My sight was no good. I missed and missed. I then changed my aim by interpreting where I had seen the bullet hit the target on the mounds of dirt behind it. Then the Cambodian man changed my AK47 setting to automatic. From then on it was chaos - simply holding down the trigger and feeling the weapon spit out the rest of my bullets in less than a few seconds.

It was then Shane's turn to shoot a Colt Revolver. For his first shot I didnt have my headphones on and as a result my right ear went slightly deaf with a constant ringing within it.

Guns are incredibly loud. After firing a weapon you will find that all Hollywood movies are a load of crap. By the time you fire your weapon three times you will be completely deaf in both ears. They are that loud! Just imagine sitting in a fox hole during a war with three other soldiers all firing their weapons. You will be completely deaf by the end of it. And you will need to scream at the top of your lungs to communicate with the man just next to you.

Shane and I both found that the sights on or guns were useless. We found that we eventually hit our targets by adjusting our aims based on seeing where our bullets hit. Im sure over time your aim improves.

It was an interesting experience to fire a weapon. It is something that I hope to never do again. I will use the experience in my future fiction writings for my Dark Legacy books.

From there Annie, Shane, and I headed to the Killing Fields - Choeung Ek. In 1980 - a year after the fall of the demonic Pol Pot regime - 86 mass graves were opened and 8,985 bodies found. These bodies were found blind-folded, beheaded, and bound and beaten to death - in an effort to save bullets. There are still 43 mass graves that have yet to be opened. The majority of those brought to these killing fields were brought from the S-21 prison which I will discuss in just a moment.

When you enter the fields you will first see a Memorial Stupa filled with human skulls organized and separated by age and sex. You will notice that many skulls have a sizable hole at the side of it. This was caused by a hammer or a farm tool such as a plow. Cambodian prisoners were forced to sit on their knees blindfolded. A Khmer Rouge soldier would then execute them by slamming a hammer into their skull and then throwing them into a giant mass grave pit 4-6 meters deep. Other prisoners were beheaded not with a sword or with a sharp man-made implement but with the sharp edges of palm tree branches - I have pictures of these palm tree branches for I cant really describe it appropriately. These palm tree branches found near the top of a palm tree have very course but sharp edges. The Khmer Rouge used these to slice and cut and slice and cut into the necks of live prisoners.

There is also a hanging tree where many prisoners were hanged. And there is another tree and a mass grave pit just next to it. It was here that the Khmer Rouge grabbed the legs of babies, lifted them, and slammed their heads straight into the trunk of the tree to kill them, and then throw them into the mass grave pit like a piece of garbage.

As you walk amoung these mass graves you will find just below your feet fragments of bones, teeth, and clothing still seeping up from out of the ground. And you will see these bones, and teeth and bits of clothing from the victims exterminated here nearly 25 years ago in all directions. You are literally walking over the decayed remains of corpses. So many people were killed here that it was not possible for all their bodies to be excavated from the ground. Many were simply left in the ground. And there you are walking over this place that was once filled with the horrific cries of mother's who saw their own infant children smashed against a tree, husbands beheaded, daughters gang raped, grandfathers poisoned, and gandmother's electricuted to death. It is a tortured place. And in the night locals say that they hear the screams and cries of the ghosts that haunt this wicked place.

This is my understanding of events in the early 1970's- for more information please investigate for yourself:
In the early 1970's the Nixon/Kissinger administration launched a "secret war" in which they decided to begin bombing Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. They were targetting the Ho Chi Minh trail which swerved in and out of Laos and Cambodia from Vietnam. As a result 2/5th of Cambodia was heavily bombed. This left unexploded ordinances (UXO) all over the country. As a result Cambodian farmers and members of their families fell victims to land mines or bombs that shreded them to pieces.

2 million refugee Cambodian running from the carpet bombings of the U.S. fled to Phnom Penh. Many, in their attempt to reach Phnom Penh, came across landmines and bombs and were either killed by them or lost limbs to them. These 2 million refugees lived in refugee camps all around the capital city. As a result of the horrible and unsanitary conditions they were living in TB (tuberculousis) began to spread.

During this time (1970) there was a Coup d'etat against Cambodian Prince Sihanouk. In an effort to reclaim his "kingdom" the Cambodian Prince formed a guerrila army later known as the Khmer Rouge. The Khmer Rouge was backed by Communist China but once they had sacked the capital of Cambodia - Phnom Penh - they told the Prince to F$%K Off and then began the reign of Pol Pot from 1975 to 1979. In 1979 the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia and freed millions of Cambodians who had been working in concentration camps at near starvation levels from the brutality of the Khmer Rouge.

From The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek I went with Annie and Shane to the Genocide Musuem of Tuol Sleng (which was the former Khmer Rouge S-21 Prison). This prison was formerly a high school. It was here that Cambodian intellectuals were brought after the fall of Phnom Penh to be interrogated, tortured, imprisoned, and executed. From 1977 to 1978 it was estimated that the prison held on average about 1,200 to 1,500 prisoners at any one time. Prisoners were kept there any where from 2 to 4 months. Some political prisoners were kept there from 6 to 7 months.

"The prisoners were kept in their respective cells and shackled with chains fixed to walls or the concrete floors. Prisoners held in large mass cells had one or both of their legs shackled to short or long pieces of iron bar. The short bar was designed for 4 prisoners and the longer bar was designed for 20 to 30 prisoners. Prisoners were fixed to the iron bar on altering sides, so they had to sleep with their heads in opposite directions.

"Before the prisoners were placed in the cells they were photographed, and detailed biographies of their childhood up to the dates of their arrests were recorded. Then they were stripped to their underwear. Everything was taken away from them. The prisoners slept directly on the floors without any mats, mosquito nets or blankets.

"Every morning at 4:30 a.m., all prisoners were told to remove their shorts, down to their ankles, for inspection by prison staff. Then they were told to do some physical exercise just by moving their hands and legs up and down for half an hour, even though their legs remained restrained by iron bars.

"The prisoners had to defecate into small iron buckets and urinate into small plastic buckets kept in their cells. They were required to ask for permission from the prison guards in advance of relieving themselves; otherwise, they were beaten or they received 20 to 60 strokes with a whip as punishment.

"Unhygienic living conditions caused the prisoners to become infected with diseases like skin rashes and various other diseases. There was no medicine for treatment.

" . . . The number of workers in S-21 complex totaled 1,720 . . . within each unit, there were several sub-units composed of male and female children ranging from 10 to 15 years of age. These young children were trained and selected by the Khmer Rouge regime to work as guards at S-21. Most of them started out as normal before growing increasingly evil. They were exceptionally cruel and disrespectful toward prisoners and their elders."

Although the vast majority of prisoners at S-21 were Cambodians there were foreigners imprisoned and later executed there or at the "Killing Fields". These foreigners came from Vietnam, Lao, Thailand, India, Pakistan, England, the U.S.A., Canada, New Zeealand, and Australia.

If you would like to learn more a good place to start is at this website:
http://www.dccam.org/

This day ended among backpacker friends at a Happy Pizza restaurant. Yes, I ate a Happy Pizza. A Happy Pizza is a pizza with bits of marijuana within it. While we were all waiting for our pizza'a the waiters gave us two "joints". We passed it around smoking - "yes, I inhaled" - and ate our pizza's as we watched a couple of pirated DVD's on the restaurant's TV screen.

Domenico
www.thedragonbone.com
www.banromsai.gr.jp