The World According to Scurvy

Stage Fright

2008-11-19T18:34:00.000-08:00

By Ryan Harrington
I'm standing there alone in the dark. In front of me, the sad excuse for a tree is doing nothing to shield me from the view of speeding vehicles. I try to relax, but there's too much pressure. The cars flying by on the expressway exit ramp know exactly what I'm doing. The other passengers on the bus know what I'm doing, and they just want me to finish so we can get the show on the road. Last of all, the bus driver knows what it is I'm doing, because he's the one who told me to hurry the hell up.

But I just can't do it. There's too much pressure. I try to allow my mind to overcome the physical inability, breathing in and out deeply, trying to let nature do its thing. Seconds have turned into minutes. The others have come and gone already. I can hear them back on the bus, discussing the situation. They're wondering what could possibly be taking me so long. For a split second, I contemplate leaving unfinished, pretending I'm done. Upon reconsideration, I know that is simply not a viable option. There's no way I'm getting back on that bus. I was the one who requested this stop out of dire need, and getting on now would be a disaster. I would piss my pants for sure. So why in God's name can't I pee now!?!?

I recall a conversation with my father back in the day about this issue, commonly known as "stage fright". He said that built into our genetic coding is a mammal instinct that prevents us from urinating whenever we should find ourselves in a situation where we may become threatened. This syndrome is an evolved reflex to ensure we are on our guard while in the vulnerable state of having a nice satisfying slash down by the river when beasties are lurking in the jungle. Fortunately, it's not often that I need to be worried about being attacked from behind by a more dominant male as I take a whiz. Unfortunately however, this little genetic protection device made it extremely difficult for me to discharge the beer from my bladder while under pressure on the side of the freeway. Go figure.

So although I may have experienced my own kind of "stage fright" Saturday night on the side of the freeway, one thing is for sure: The Rising Hedons never experience such a thing. From the moment the The Hedons calmly walked out on the main stage Saturday at Blues Bash, they owned it. They commanded the attention of all in attendance, playing their hearts out and captivating the crowd with their mix of new tunes and old favorites.

The die-hard work ethic of The Rising Hedons is really beginning to pay off this year. Their sound is incredibly tight, and they are gelling together as a band more than ever. The guitars sound great, especially due to Pete's insistence that Bradley lugs a minimum of 3 guitars to every show based on the fact that "Well, they all have different sounds now don't they?" Add that to the boosted bass punch from Phil's new drum microphones, Daren's always rocking bass lines, and Michael's rhythmic tablas, and this all translates into great news for listeners in Taiwan. With a charity CD nearning completion and the follow-up release to Head Full of Rain, they're only going up from here.

Check out the Rising Hedons Live Saturday, November 29th at Light Lounge. After starting their tour on the road this year, The Hedons finally play their first show in Taiching in almost 5 months!

Thankfully, the gig happens to be two blocks from my house, so no more pissing on the side of the freeway for me! At least until the next out of town show anyway....

Ryan Harrington

WWW.RYANHARRINGTONPHOTOGRAPHY.COM
Official photographer of the Rising Hedons

Cutting Teeth

2008-11-19T18:22:00.000-08:00

By Ryan Harrington

It's 2:30 pm Saturday afternoon. I awaken to the sound of jackhammers powering away at concrete somewhere, possibly on the street below. I'm pretty sure it's the street, but I could be wrong. Maybe they're dismantling the walls of the building next door. It doesn't really matter. It's loud and my head hurts. It's probably been going on since 8am like it has every other day this week, but I don't recall hearing any noise when I went to bed at 7:30am. Then again, I was pretty wasted and I wasn't paying much attention to anything other than finding my bed and passing out.

The splitting headache that has commandeered the space within my skull is pulsating to the beat of the jackhammer, migrating in waves from my forehead down to a nice little space it's found halfway down my spine. I try to sleep, but I can't. The jackhammer/headache tandem has pretty much ruled out any chance of that happening. I guess I'm functioning on 5 hours sleep today.

The headache could have possibly been caused by any one of a number of independent factors. Realistically however, it's the result of a cumulative effort between the Jackhammer, lack of sleep, shitty Taiwan Beer, and the fumes inhaled while hot boxing the bathroom of a Ho-Hsin bus coming home.

Being in a rock band is tough.

For those who know me, you know that I have about as much musical talent as a deaf chimpanzee with no arms. My dreams of busting out a guitar solo in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans were crushed long ago at the age of 6, when my mother told me I should never sing out loud if I wanted to have any friends. Air guitar and singing in the shower are about as far as my musical career will ever go.

Despite the fact that my larynx produces monotone sounds, my ears are incapable of detecting differences in tone and pitch, and my extremities have no rhythm whatsoever, my right eye is fine. So when Bradley Tindall, lead singer and front man of The Rising Hedons, offered me the opportunity to join the band as the official photographer, I saw it as my chance to come as close as I'll ever come to being in a band.

I also saw this as an opportunity and a purpose to write, which, for the most part I've been unmotivated to do recently due to a lack of inspiration. With the band's new tour of Taiwan underway, I've found both the inspiration to write, and something to focus my photography on. It also happens to be a really good opportunity to drink a lot of beer and hot box miniature bathrooms while traveling down the highway at 5am.

That's what rock bands do.

Friday's show at Bliss in Taipei was the band's first live show in over four months. Busting out a number of great new tunes in addition to many old classics, the Hedons rocked out to a small crowd and fine-tuned their sound in preparation for next week's highly anticipated gig at Blues Bash. With their teeth all cut and great new tunes to blast out to the masses, this will be a show you don't want to miss!

Next show:
Blues Bash - November 15th, at the Dream Community in Xizhi.

Check the web site http://www.bsot-bluesbash.info/ for detailed instructions on how to get there and also for additional performer announcements as they come in.

Rock on!

For more information about Ryan Harrington Photography, please visit his site.

WWW.RYANHARRINGTONPHOTOGRAPHY.COM
Official photographer of the Rising Hedons

The official Launch of ryanharringtonphotography.com!

2007-11-07T04:54:00.000-08:00

Check out the new site!

The Show

2007-09-17T08:53:00.000-07:00

Check out the pics from my first exhibition ever! I should have taken more photos, but I was too busy drinking, mingling, and eaves-dropping on people oohing and aahing over my photos.

Gallery Premier

Ryan's Gallery Debut

2007-09-14T01:07:00.000-07:00

This Sunday, I officially become an artist. Its all been spur of the moment, and super stressful, but I have 2 walls in a big art exhibit all to myself. I've decided to go with a black and white theme of my recent trip to Malaysia. Check out the pics that made the cut here:

Malaysia 2007

Beware: Many photos look like crap in the slideshow on a PC. For best results, get a mac.

More Random Malaysia Photos

2007-08-30T21:40:00.000-07:00

Those of you on facebook have probably seen these already, others can enjoy them now through these nice, nifty little links for your own convenience.

Malaysia: Batch 2

Malaysia: Batch 3

Pabuk Sucks

2007-08-08T04:53:00.000-07:00

Update:

Typhoon Pabuk missed. Nuts. He took a turn south and further away from Ryan. I guess I'll just have to wait for the next tropical depression (forming now) to turn into a typhoon and head west. Typhoon season in taiwan is gonna be fun!

Meet Typhoon Pabuk

2007-08-07T03:27:00.000-07:00

This is Typhoon Pabuk. He is expected to hit Taiwan sometime late Tuesday night/early Wenesday morning. Ryan is excited. He has never experienced a typhoon or hurricane before. Ryan lives where the "M" is in "3AM Wed" on th diagram above. Ryan is hoping the storm moves a little higher, picks up some steam, and hits Taichung dead on. He is up high on the 5th floor, so he should be ok. Perhaps he will not have to work tomorrow because of a "typhoon day". Sure beets the hell out of lame old 'snow days'!

Malaysia: Batch One

2007-08-04T07:08:00.000-07:00

I took too many photos in Malaysia.

This little dream I have of becoming a decent photographer is being developed through a giant process of trial and error, and most of the 1400 or so photos I took on this trip were complete crap. While every once in a while i get the settings right and come across a photo that surprizes myself, most of what I take does nothing but fill up space on my memory card.

So, as i sift through 1400 some odd photos and pick out the ones I like, I'll slowly begin to post some online. Here is batch number one, in no particular order or theme:

Singapore/Malaysia 2007 - Batch 1

Return to Formosa

2007-07-29T19:14:00.000-07:00

Right on time, at exactly 8:09 am, the familiar tone of the garbage truck's Beethoven's Für Elise blares full blast in the street below my bedroom window. As the sound echoes and amplifies back and forth between the buildings of the alley, I am jarred from my sleep and instantly reminded of where I am. I am home. Well..... in Taiwan anyway.

It is definitely a weird feeling, returning back to Taiwan and feeling like i am back 'home' after 3 weeks in Malaysia. The last 3 weeks seem like a blur, yet also an eternity at the same time. Back in Taiwan i feel like I am back in a familiar place, yet lost all over again.

The winds of change are in the air, and things are going to be a lot different in the coming year. I can feel it and I'm not quite sure what to expect.

I apologize for my laziness and the fact that I didn't write anything my entire time in Malaysia. I'm beginning to feel that I've lost my motivation to share my travel stories with the masses. I had a great time, saw a lot of cool stuff, met some really special people, but it becomes different to continually glamorize everything in a way that makes it interesting for everyone to read. For the most part, the best of the memories are in my head and of no interest to most people, and the rest can easily be summed up as follows:

Flew to Singapore with Amanda and Elaine, met up with Lenny, did some sightseeing, Hit up the town and got smashed, and then left for Malaysia. In Malaysia, visited Ming, Horng, and Yuyu in their home town of Muar. Met all their families and got a locals perspective and tour of the area. Then left with a growing gang of friends from Taiwan, Friends from Canada, and friends of Friends for Redang island in the north (some funny stories there, perhaps that will inspire me to write more about later) . After Redang, split from the crew, went into the jungle. Came out of the jungle and went to visit a recently acquired friend in Kuala Lumpur. Had an amazing weekend trip up to Kuala Sengalor that got the gossip birds chirping and which I'm not going to write about. Then left for Some amazing Diving on Tioman Island, before heading back to Singapore and getting wasted again with Lenny for his birthday. It all goes full circle. Flew home the next day and I begin work again on Wednesday.

That's the extreme Coles Notes version and about all I feel like writing about. If people read this and want to know more, then let me know the demand for more 'Ryan stories' is out there and maybe I'll take the time to write more.

If not, stay tuned in the coming weeks for photos, they tell a pretty good stories themselves.

A Day's Work

2007-07-04T02:19:00.000-07:00

Here are the last of my photos from Taiwan before I take off to Malaysia Friday. Taken during a walk around Taichung with Elaine the other day. Just a bunch of random shots, hope you all enjoy looking at them. Stay posted to the blog for pics and stories from my month in Malaysia and Singapore beginning Friday.

Check out my random pics of Taichung here.

Photos Revisited

2007-06-26T00:45:00.001-07:00

Unable to sleep last night at 3am, I decided to go back and touch up a few older photos. Check out the album of Photos revisited by clicking here

Know your Audience

2007-06-23T23:32:00.000-07:00

Time: 12:30am ish
Place: Some random German Engineer's Apartment
Event: My friend Elaine's going away party
Crowd: Me, Amanda, Amy, Elaine, A whole bunch of Germans, A couple of Taiwanese, some Norwegians, and A Musician from France.

So I'm good and drunk by this point, and I decide to wander out of the 'dancing' room where I was getting tired of doing my usual thing of mock dancing everyone. I leave behind me the blaring beat of 'Funkytown' and sander into the living room where the aforementioned French Musician has the entire room of about 15 people captivated. His musical talents on the clarinet, or saxophone, or whatever it was he was playing were definitely worthy of respect, and he deservedly received a good round of applause as he finished his piece.

So the applause stops, and there's this brief moment of silence. That perfect gap between the roaring round of applause, and people resuming their discussions. That split second of time that is just all to perfect to let go to waste. That golden moment where an aptly timed and delivered joke or witty remark would be thrust clearly upon the ears of the entire audience, making you the comical hit of the party. Someone had to take advantage and say something funny.

"Wow! The French are good for something!" I say. (Cue two hits of a snare followed by a cymbal).

It was perfect! The timing, the delivery, it was all perfect. The kind of delivery that should have had the entire party laughing in hysterics!

tap tap tap: Is this thing on?

What does Ryan get? Nothing but a bunch of blank faces staring at him in confusement as their ESL brains try to figure out what it was I was trying to say.

"What?" says Frenchy as he looks at me dumbfounded. He wants me to explain to him the meaning of what I just said. Did I like his music? Did I hate the French? Somehow the joke was just lost on everyone. Trying to explain to Frenchy and the crowd the beauty of my own sarcastic geniusness was hopeless; how I had, in one single remark, both complemented him on his music while making fun of the entire history of French civilization at the same time. They just weren't gonna get it.

My lesson learned: ESL crowds don't make good audiences for my sarcastic wit.

long Overdue

2007-06-19T20:05:00.000-07:00

I think I’m getting soft. I painted my bedroom and bought nice sheets. I haven’t been drunk in over 2 months and my upcoming vacation will be less than a month long. I’ve been doing some deep thinking about my future financial affairs. What is happening to me?

Lately I’ve been beginning to scare myself. I know it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and perhaps its time I filled everyone in on what’s new. I was going to write this in the theme of another long, drawn out, deep reflection on life, but I decided instead to spare you all the agony. I’ll save that part for my book.

The trouble with not writing for a while is that I let so much stuff build up that it becomes a chore to sum it all up. So I continue to put it off until finally I just decide to sit down and write one of these half assed summaries because I’m too lazy to write everything I’ve wanted to write for the last month or so.

So what is new with Ryan? Well, the kittens are gone. One was adopted, two were given to an animal shelter, and one of them was lost during a tragic little ‘incident’. Mom (sadly, she never got a proper name) was fixed and released back onto the streets. As sad as it sounds, I think that is what is best for her. She seemed happy to be released into the gardens around our old apartment. That is where she belongs.

Amanda and I are now living in a new apartment. We now only have to walk up 60 stairs instead of 66. I’m still blown away every day by the convenience of a refrigerator. Funny how you can live with an amenity for 24 years, go without it for 5 months, and then be astonished at its convenience again in a form of appreciation you never had for the last 24 years.

I have a bedroom with a giant king sized bed, a balcony, a TV, and an ensuite bathroom. I painted the walls a bluish-green and bought sheets to match. Together, it all adds up to be the nicest bedroom I’ve ever had. Amanda thinks my décor is ugly because it’s something her mom would love, therefore she can’t possibly admit to liking it. She prefers the blinding beams of yellow and ‘supernova’ orange paint in her room that penetrate your cornea and knock out a few retinas every time you hit the light switch.

My job is winding down to an end. Only 2 more weeks with the little shitheads and I’m done. I’m not quite sure about my future at the same school next year, as enrollment is down and there will be fewer classes next year, therefore less teaching positions. I’m crossing my fingers that the numbers stay above 11 in one of the 2nd grade classes, in which case that would be my class. It would be nice to have a small class of grade two’s who still like their teacher and don’t swear at him in Chinese, throw things at him, or mutter death threats under their breath.

I’m still trying to accept the fact that I only get a month off for vacation this summer. I know by normal people’s standards working 4 months and then getting one month off seems like a sweet deal, but I expect more for myself. Anyway, one month will have to suffice, and I have chosen to spend it in Malaysia and Singapore. I will be flying into Singapore with Amanda and Amy on the 6th of July. There we will meet up with my friend Lenny from Victoria, and then we will make our way into southern Peninsular Malaysia to meet up with my friend Ming in his hometown of Muar. Sound too much like a planned travel itinerary for solo backpacker Ryan? Well, that’s what I thought too. So I booked a roundtrip flight from Johor Bahru to northern Sabah, where I will finally step foot on one of the most amazingly diverse islands in the world: Borneo. It’s just a shame that I only get 2 ½ weeks there before I have to fly home to Taiwan to either start working at my current school, or begin the job hunt.

I don’t really know what I will accomplish in my short stop on Borneo, but I’m going to attempt to climb the highest mountain in SE Asia, do some scuba diving in world renowned dive sites, and explore some ancient rainforests at the very least.

So that’s the scoop on my life here in Taiwan. I’m sorry for being lazy and not keeping in touch with you all through phone or emails. I’m sorry for neglecting my blog and not putting in the effort to ‘entertain the masses’ on a daily basis anymore. I haven’t forgotten about any of you and I do miss you all. Anyone for Borneo in July?

This has been the word according to Scurvy…

PS. Happy Fathers Day Dad! I had no idea it came and went already. I guess they don’t celebrate it here?

Also, here is a link to some photos some of you may not have seen yet:
Sunsets 'n Stuff

What the future holds for Ryan

2007-05-20T05:17:00.001-07:00

It looks like I'll be staying put in Taiwan for a while.

Those who know me well know that I don't really know what the hell I am doing. I came here to Taiwan in January on a sort of "trial basis", thinking that I'd test out the waters and see how long I intended to stay. Part of the reason for me coming here was to save up money quickly and take off travelling to India for at least 6 months.

That's not gonna happen. At least for a while...

Through my ups and downs in Taiwan these last couple of months, I've wavered back and forth on the idea of leaving for good at the end of June. As I dream up schemes and ideas in my head as to what to do next, I always end up back in Taiwan. Most of this is due to a complete lack of realistic options elsewhere, but as of late, staying put is starting to feel like the right thing to do.

Life is one big question mark. I don't know if other people feel the same, but I am constantly in a state of dissatisfaction in life, gazing towards the future while never really stopping to enjoy the present. This is a problem. At the same time that I know I do this, I never really look back on my past as uneventful or boring, nor do I ever feel that I've wasted any of my years on this earth. So whatever I'm doing with my life must be worth enjoying in the moment instead of looking to the future. With this in mind, I've begun to really consider my situation here in Taiwan.

I have a pretty damn easy life. I work 24 hours a week, only about 10 of which I am teaching students. The money I make is more than enough to get by on, and stll have lots to spend on things like a brand new SLR camera and save money to fund my vacation in July. The only real stress i have to deal with is the way time slows to a stop when I'm waiting for the traffic light to turn green so I can make a right turn (what a stupid law that is).

So, Amanda and I decided to move out of our home in the ghetto, and move up a notch into the upper class projects. We move into our new place in June, and it is a considerable step up in the world of Taiwan's accommodations. We still have five flights of stairs and no elevator, but we now have furniture, a fridge, a washing machine, air conditioning, an extra bedroom for guests, and I have an enormous king size bed that isn't as hard as a rock.

I'm taking one month off work in July, and I'll most likely be back at work at the start of August. I fly in and out of Singapore, and I'm toying with the idea of skipping over to Borneo for some jungle exploration and Mountain Climbing. Details of that trip are still up in the air. Its not 6 months in India, but I can't really complain about a month of vacation after 4 months of part-time work. I think I've got it pretty easy.

This has been the World According to Scurvy.

A fresh new look

2007-05-16T03:44:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed if you've checked my blog lately that i've been experimenting with some new designs for the title banner of my blog. You all probably don't care, and in reality, this is a completely useless thing to do, but well, I'm bored.

Check out my latest idea that may be the basis for a finalized version soon to appear on my real blog at www.testingscurvy.blogspot.com

If you are reading this in my facebook notes, you will have to go to my actual blog to see what i am talking about www.scurvysworld.blogspot.com

Let me know what you think if you care.

The Rat Pack

2007-05-13T03:30:00.000-07:00

One Rainy Saturday

2007-05-06T02:34:00.000-07:00

Woke up Saturday morning with the intention of spending the day in the country with my camera. I got out to the country... just in time for a typhoon like storm to come out of nowhere and well... yada yada yada... I got wet. Shit happens.

I then came home to have Amanda point out the fact that the water level on the roof of our building (which also doubles as our patio and the trash storage area for our entire building) was rising somewhat quickly and coming close to flooding our apartment. Hmm... might be a good time to move before the real typhoons come....

As we were watching the roof flood and dreaming about getting out of the projects, we happened to see a cat dart across our roof with what looked to be a giant white mouse in her mouth. We followed it to find not a cat with fresh prey, but a cat with three tiny, wet, shivering little kittens huddled in a corner behind a block of cement.

Amanda, of course, just couldn't let them stay there, so we managed to get them inside our apartment (I still don't really know how I feel about this idea). After about half an hour, I started thinking about the possibility that the mother cat might have been in the process of moving all her kittens to safety, and perhaps there were more somewhere on our roof. So, I went out searching through all the crap in the rain, and found another one, huddled by itself in the corner of a torn up old recliner chair that had flooded in the storm.

So Yay! Amanda and I are now the caretakers of not only one stray street cat and her four 2-3 week old kittens, but all their flees and bugs that came with them as part of the package deal. Good thing we don't use our kitchen for food preparation.

Basically, our options are to either throw them back outside and let them fend for themselves, take them to a pound or vet (where they will most likely be put down because not many people here like cats), or let them stay with us until they are old enough to leave the mother, and then try and guilt trip people into adopting them. As much as I really don't like the idea of keeping them, I don't exactly think I could go through with the first two options. Looks like Ryan's got some new roommates!

We've named them already. The white one is called 'Mouse' cause I thought he was one. The black one is called 'Panther', cause well, he looks like a panther. The grey and black striped one is 'Tiger', cause he looks like a tiger, he's feisty, and his other siblings have animal names. And the grey and black striped one with white paws is called 'St. Anthony' after the patron saint of lost articles. He doesn't fit the "random animal" theme, but I felt it was fitting because he was left behind in the rain and would have died, had I not gone out searching for more kittens on the roof. Good old St. Anthony has been busy helping Ryan find stuff lately, so I named a kitten after him to show him my appreciation.

I have a feeling they aren't leaving soon, so keep posted for updates.

I haven't really taken any good photos of them yet, for I don't want to use the flash on their young little eyes and I can't get good lighting. But, I'm sure there will be plenty of pics in the weeks to come.

No stories, just photos

2007-04-30T08:23:00.000-07:00

International Spankout Day (Its not what you think)
Taichung Randomness Just a bunch of Random Randomness

If you haven't noticed, these photos are posted on Facebook. If you don't have facebook, you are a looser. Get it.

Canucks win, My Camera is lost, and St. Anthony comes through in the clutch.

2007-04-18T08:52:00.000-07:00

Wow.

Ryan would like to let it be known that he is temporarily stripping himself of his self-proclaimed genius status.

He would also like to thank his boy, St. Anthony, for keeping his brand new $1000 camera safe for 18 hours on Tuesday, as it sat by itself on the side of the road.

While he's at it, Ryan would also like to request that anyone who reads this gives Ryan a verbal lashing for getting extremely wasted, driving his scooter, blacking out, and waking up the next morning without his backpack containing his brand new camera and his students' midterm exams.

After the longest, most tiring, most depressing and exhausting day of his life, Ryan was on his way home to go to bed and wallow in his own self pity, when he miraculously happened to spot his backpack lying on the curb about a block away from his house. Presumably the location where he chose to sit down and either puke his brains out, or drink and dial, this is where Ryan and his backpack parted ways the night before.

There is of coarse a lot more to this story, but as usual, I'm too lazy to type it.

Ryan's laying off the booze for a while and spending some time self evaluating his actions and determining what his punishment will be.

My New Toy

2007-04-15T01:43:00.000-07:00

Free from the hellhole that was my old kindergarten job, I am happy to report that I am now beginning to enjoy life in Taiwan much more. Things are a lot less stressful, I have a lot more free time, and I have nothing holding me back from staying up till 3:30 am drinking and watching playoff hockey on a school night.

I also got paid last week, which meant that the $2300 in cash i received was not going to last very long hiding under my mattress. So I decided that i might as well go and blow half of it on a new camera so that i can be serious about taking up my new hobby of photography. And that I did.....

I have now realized that there is a lot more to photography than one might suspect, and I'm looking forward to the day when I can actually reach the full potential of my camera and take a decent photo. If you feel like checking out what i have experimented with so far, check out these two links:

Images of Taiwan - Random Photos
Images of Taiwan - People: Friends and Strangers

NHL Playoffs....Taiwan style

2007-04-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

So when I came to Taiwan, I had pretty much writen off the idea of watching hockey. I've followed the Canucks' season by checking their website and watching highlights online, but the start of the playoffs made me realize that wasn't going to cut it. So, i managed to find a bar in Taichung that is actually playing hockey games!

One little catch though. The bar owner has to record the games on his moms computer in canada, and then send them over the internet to his computer here, where he plays them onto the big screen. This means that while the games start around 10am local time here, they don't show them in the bar until around 9:30 - about 14 hours after the games have begun back home.

So what does this mean? It means that every second day, Ryan lives in a bubble, cut off from the world of the internet. I can't check email out of fear that the yahoo home page will have a headline about hockey scores. I can't check msn out of fear that someone has changed their name to reflect a recent score. I can't check facebook in case someone has updated their status to say something about a game. And, I probably won't answer my phone in case some drunk friend from back home decides to phone me and be a spoiler.

Its pathetic, I know. but its comforting to know that two nights ago I was in a bar until 3:30 am with about 10 canucks fans from back home, recreating what honestly felt like watching a live canucks playoff game. Canucks fans in Taichung...they do exist and we are representin'!

Spring Scream 2007

2007-04-08T06:12:00.000-07:00

Stick a fork in me. I'm done.

So i just got back from a 4 day music festival in southern Taiwan and I'm too exhausted, dehydrated, sleep deprived, and hung over to write about it. You can pretty much get the point from these photos that it was just a 4 day long gong show.

Spring Scream 2007 Photos

Money Vs. Happiness

2007-03-31T03:39:00.000-07:00

Apparently money doesn't equal happiness, right?
But, without money, Ryan can't travel the world.
If Ryan can't travel the world, he is not happy.
So for Ryan to be happy, he needs money.

To get money, Ryan works as a kindergarten teacher in Taiwan.
Teaching kindergarten does not make Ryan very happy
If Ryan wants to be happy, he needs to stop teaching Kindergarten

If Ryan quits kindergarten, then he has no money
No money means Ryan cannot travel the world
Ryan must keep teaching kindergarten so that he has money to travel the world and be happy but Ryan wants to kill himself every day at kindergarten.

Thoughts of death: Not very happy.

Problem.

So my memory of deductive and inductive arguments from Philosophy 101 is a little sketchy, and I don't know if my justification is valid, but I quit my Kindergarten job yesterday. Saying goodbye to more than a third of my income is going to sting a little, but I couldn't put up with it anymore. The age old 'money vs happiness' debate has been running through my head for the last month, and has nearly driven me to the edge of insanity, so I did something about it.

I am not cut out to be a kindergarten teacher. I know this now. And, I am especially not meant to be an ESL kindergarten teacher in a horribly run school where chaos seems to be what they strive to achieve. No help from Chinese teachers, kids that don't understand a word I say, no communication or instruction from the boss, a curriculum that doesn't work, and an expectation that Ryan is supposed to hold the attention of, control and teach a class of 20 children of all different English abilities shit they don't want to learn all at the same time while breaking up fights, consoling sobbing children, singing songs, teaching phonics, getting sneezed on right in the face, and hearing TEACHER! TEACHER! TEACHER! TEACHER! being screamed by every single kid that wants my attention that i cannot give them because I'm too busy trying to stop one little hell child from running around the room destroying and making a mess of anything he can find.

This is how I start my days. Or rather, it was how i started my days.

I came to the conclusion that keeping that job just for the money so I could take off in June and travel the world just wasn't worth it. I'd rather coast by on my part time job that still gives me ample money to live comfortably, pay off student loans, and still save money. it wasn't worth my sanity to continue putting myself through 2 hours of stress every morning. I might regret it when come June I have $3000 less money in my bank account, but I'll deal with that then.

My Grade 4 teaching job gives me enough stress as it is, and i have chosen to focus on it instead. I'll have my mornings free to do whatever I like, and I've decided to take up photography. I'll have more time to figure out a way to get through to my grade 4 class, which I am attempting to repair the damage of two years worth of teachers who gave them no discipline, taught them nothing, and obviously let them do whatever the hell they wanted while showing no signs of respect whatsoever. They bitch about doing work, complain about everything, and think I'm a horrible person because i make them follow rules. Yesterday I made a little girl leave school sobbing into her fathers arms because I wouldn't let her get away with mischievously hide her spelling test score from her parents, and I got a death threat from my student has serious rage issues and who I am convinced is going to commit murder in his lifetime.

Student: "Teacher Ryan, I am going to kill you"
Me: "Johnson! I don't ever want to hear something like that joked about in this classroom ever again!"
Student: "I am not Joking"

Yeah, so I remember the repercussions I faced in Grade 6 when I called ms Fanzega a bum. I don't even want to think about what would have happened to me If i yelled death threats at a teacher.

Anyway, the bottom line is my most recent update to report to the masses is that i am now no longer a kindergarten teacher. Just a part time ESL teacher with a lot more time on his hands, a lot less stressed, with a little less cash to burn.

But I'm feeling pretty happy.

When I grow up....

2007-03-29T05:03:00.000-07:00

What I now know I don't want to be when I grow up:

#1 - A teacher

King for a Day

2007-03-18T03:34:00.000-07:00

Only in Taiwan.....

I won't write anything about this adventure. Instead, I'll just leave it up to your imaginations to guess what I got myself into this time.

Hint: It involved the Mayor of Taichung, the media, water balloons, a gladiator, a bunch of slaves, a whole lot of people, and me at the center of it all!

The Beauty of it All

2007-03-16T08:58:00.000-07:00

Love it, hate it, take it, or leave it.... I live in Taiwan.

I've always felt that a title of a book, chapter, or blog post can say so much more than the body of text that proceeds it. In the case of today's post, I happen to feel that the title in which I've chosen does more than simply sum up my writing of the day. Instead, it captures something greater, something deep inside that toys with my emotions on an hourly basis and acts as a metaphor for the roller coaster ride of chaos that is life in Taiwan.

Ok, so i ripped the title off from somewhere else. It still counts. I can say this because I saw the quote in a magazine last week during my near mental breakdown, and I made me do a lot of thinking. It just seemed to be a fitting line to sum up the thoughts and emotions that occur within my own head. So I stole it. I stole it because it is the perfect quote to relay to you the view of Taiwan I see through my own eyes; How all the highs and lows seem to come together to form and odd sense of beauty... somewhere in amongst the chaos.

This so called beauty will present itself in the oddest of ways a the most unexpected times. And we're not really talking aesthetic beauty, because I gave up on finding that within my first few hours on this island. I'm talking about little things that make my laugh, that remind me why I'm here. The things that happen subtly during routine daily activities that simply would not happen back home, and add to the adventure of experiencing life in a foreign country.

This beauty can come in the form of personal satisfaction, like successfully ordering 20 dumplings to go after two months of confusion and hand signals in an almost daily adventure of chaos and miscommunication. While saying the number '20' may seem like a retardedly simple task, I obviously haven't come close to mastering the tones of the Chinese language. Maybe today was just lucky, and tomorrow I'll be back to blank stares and stupefied looks as i wave my hands around in the air to represent the tones I'm trying to express orally. Today however, I felt proud, so I'll savor that for a moment.

This beauty can also come in the form of humor, like when I'm trying to decide what to order from another roadside food stall when I'm sick of dumpling guy failing to understand me. As i stand there contemplating which mystery meat has the best odds of actually being chicken, a little old lady sanders up beside me and puts what is unmistakably 4 giant pieces of chicken in her basket to be deep fried. And how do I know hers was chicken? Because they were feet. I had a hankering for late night chicken nugget snack, she felt more like gnawing off the skin of some feet. I couldn't help but chuckle.

The humor isn't even really humor. Its just all the stupid things you see that make you think "nope, wouldn't see that at home," and have yourself a good laugh. Like the old man ripping through an intersection on what was obviously a homemade scooter, followed closely by a father doubling his 3 year old son on a bicycle. The child's bicycle! Images of clowns on miniature bikes at the circus come to mind really quick.

Then there are the heart touching moments like when one the out of control kindergarten students I teach will just stop randomly to say "I love you Teacher Ryan" and give me a big hug. Or when they draw me a picture of my family and somehow remember that my sister's name is Julie, even though they can't tell me one word that starts with the letter B. There are also the everyday people that, despite the language barrier, are able to communicate a feeling of generosity and friendliness through the simple act of a smile.

The list does go on. There's the fact that in a City of 3 million people, I randomly run into about 5 people a day i know, making me feel like the most popular kid in school. And what could make a person feel more proud than to hear the phrase "are you shotgunning a beer?" from a random dude on a motorcycle behind you as you prepare to down an 80 cent beer outside a 7-11? Or the fact that for $2 Canadian, you can have a dinner consisting of delicious dumplings, fried Squid (the mystery meat wasn't chicken after all) and a beer - all within a 30 second walk from your door. Or noodles, sushi, rice, pastries, soups, and anything else you happen to crave at 4am.

There's the bonus of having money, and living a lifestyle equivalent to upper middle class back home, all because you are white. Saving money should be pretty simple here, as long as I stay away from the booze. Which, despite what it may sound like from the previous paragraph, I have actually done a good job on. Amanda, on the other hand, may be developing a problem....

I felt that after my last post, I needed a fair and balanced view of Taiwan. So, after having a much better week and getting a bit more sleep, i have bounced back to a somewhat normal state of mind. I can say that for every shitty thing that frustrates and annoys the hell out of me, there always seems to be something that reminds me that coming here was a good choice to make.

I'm quite positive that Taiwan was designed to push a foreigner's patience and sanity to the limit. The traffic, the pollution, the language barrier, the racism, the lack of order, and the fact that you can touch all 4 walls of a bathroom at once while squatting over a toilet with your pants pulled up on one leg doing the chicken dance and dodging the urine. I think if you can deal with the negatives with an easy going attitude and not let anything get to you, than you can save your energy to fully appreciate the subtle beauty that Taiwan has to offer.

And that, is the beauty of it all.

Catching my Breath

2007-03-10T02:07:00.000-08:00

wow, so where to begin.

Life in Taiwan has become a little more dramatic in the last few weeks. The 2 week buildup of stress, lack of sleep, 14 hour work days, self reflection, and a general frustration with this country's lack of common sense all came to a point yesterday. I'm now proud to say I've experienced my first "I hate Taiwan" moment, and narrowly avoided a complete mental breakdown. Barely.

So I left off back at the end of February, when I was enjoying a nice week off from anything during the Chinese new year. Then, the relaxation stopped and the circus began. My kindergarten stopped being fun playtime with my 8 students, and turned into a gong show with 20 kids and an expectation that I could get them all to settle down and concentrate on learning phonics when they cannot speak English and just want to run around and hit each other.

I began my main teaching gig: attempting to teach the grade 4 class from hell that has no concept of discipline, respect, or a desire to learn anything. Somehow, this country believes that a foreigner with no experience can just walk into a classroom and know everything about how the school works, what to teach, and how to plan his syllabus for the entire 4 month semester. Teaching them anything has taken a back seat to just simply restoring order to a classroom that the previous teacher gave up on and quit.

so, for the past 2 weeks, i have basically got up bright and early every day, gone to my mentally exhausting kindergarten job, then hopped on my scooter and gone straight to my other job early to try and figure out what the hell I'm doing. I've been in a constant struggle trying to get ahead in my lesson planning, only to fall back behind again and end up staying up till the late evening hours to have something for the next day. Yesterday, it all just kinda hit me. I was burnt out.

I tried to tell my boss i didn't want to work at the kindergarten anymore, but she gave me a vote of confidence and told me i was doing fine and not to worry so much. We'll see how it goes. I'm banking on the fact that this is all apparently normal everyone's first time here teaching, and it will get easier.

Had a good night of drinking last night, which was a good release. On my way to go out for a good old fashion hamburger. I'm realizing that this post sucks, as i have written it quickly and I'm not in a writing or proofreading mood, but figured i should at least write something now that i have a few days off to catch my breath before i get right back at 'er tomorrow trying to plan my weeks lessons.

sorry it sucks, that's all i got for today.

The Great Urinology Experiment

2007-02-21T00:09:00.000-08:00

Warning: The following post may disgust some readers. It is not for the close-minded, and I am fully aware of the mockery I will most likely receive from my little experiment. I do not care.

I awoke the other morning from a nice long sleep, cherishing the opportunity Chinese New year has given me this week to sleep in rather than wake up early to teach kindergarten. I crawled out from under my mosquito net, rose from my bed, put on my slippers, and sauntered into the bathroom. Today was the day.

As I stood there, hovering high above the toilet bowl, I began psyching myself up for what was about to take place. This was going to be gross. I began to feel the flow of urine, as the stream made its journey from my bladder to the toiled bowl, where it was about to be intercepted by my my hands.

But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to pee all over my hands, no matter how much I prepared myself for it. The stream slowed down to a trickle, before drying up completely. I had missed my chance, and I would have to try again tomorrow morning.

Those of you who know me well know that I suffer from severe eczema on my hands when the temperature and/or humidity get high. My entire hands break out in a rash of tiny bubbles and open soars, that make it excruciatingly painful to to anything. They hurt, they itch, they sweat, and they just continue to get worse until the temperature begins to drop. Being in Taiwan for a month, it has already begun and I'm not looking forward to the summer here.

So when Amanda's friend happened to share a little secret only a crazy German was insane enough to try, I was all ears. Apparently, there is an ancient Indian belief that Urine is the body's own natural remedy to almost any ailment. You can even go so far as to drink your own pee every morning. Baby steps....Ryan's going to take baby steps.

Which brings me to peeing on my hands. I have suffered with this eczema my whole life, and have always said I would do anything to get rid of it. Anything. So, this is my chance. After researching into it on the Internet, pretty much everything the German said checks out. Just rub your early morning midstream pee over the affected areas, and allow it to dry. Within a few weeks, the Eczema should be gone and never return.

So what do I really have to loose, Aside from some pee pee hands? According to the Internet web sites I looked at, your pee isn't even dirty or bad for you. Its just a sterile mixture of water, nutrients, and minerals that your body already had enough of. so there is really nothing gross about it once you get over the initial phobia of doing something we've been taught is disgusting. You can even go so far as to look into the conspiracy theories that the drug companies are trying to keep this hush hush because there is no money to be made from it. Just some sticky hands.

I am proud to say that yesterday morning I awoke and peed on my hands. I'm remaining optimistic that this is going to work, and really, it wasn't even that bad. It dries up pretty quick, and leaves your hands feeling quite nice. Amanda is curious as to whether or not it works, cause if it does, she'll have no reason to continue suffering from her eczema either. She will just have to psych herself up a bit more than me, as she massages her pee behind her ears and into her scalp.

Did I hear someone say Golden Shower?

Setting an example

2007-02-14T22:39:00.000-08:00

One of my kindergarten students learned the hard way what happens when you cross a line...

Today began like any other day. After the usual greetings and hugs, I spent about ten minutes trying to calm my students down from the mass hysteria that my arrival always seems to bring about. Finally getting them to sit down for story time, I breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to hold their attention singing songs, reading books, and reciting the alphabet.

One child in particular, Ben, was all hopped up on something today. I don't know what it was, but I could tell he going to be a handful. I gave him some leeway, turning a blind eye to the majority of his misbehavings, for I did not feel like wasting energy in a constant battle with him all day.

And then he spit....
at me.....
in the face.....
for no reason.

Up until now I've been a pretty lenient teacher. I wouldn't say I've let the children walk all over me, but I haven't really done a whole lot of disciplining either. I've been pretty lax. They make paper airplanes, I take them away. They make another airplane, I take it away too. They hit someone, I give everyone candy except the child who did the hitting. They hit someone again, I give the crying kid they hit lots of candy. I feel bad that these kids are supposed to be doing so much work at such a young age, so I've tried to make things as fun as possible with as little negative punishment as possible. I figure they will eventually catch on that good behavior means more candy and toys.

This kid flicked a switch in me. I didn't even contemplate for a second what I should do. My impulse was just to pick the kid up, and carry him out of the room. Kicking, screaming, and crying, he put up a good fight, but he eventually landed himself out in the hall. I decided this is where he was going to sit, but he seemed to disagree. He continued flail his arms and legs, struggling as hard as he could to break free. He escaped my grasp once and made a b-line for the classroom, only to be scooped up and thrown right back out again.

At this point, all the Chinese teachers have come out of their classrooms to see what all the commotion is about. I explain to one of them what he did, and she was like, "so what you want do?". I told her i wanted him to sit in the office and think about what he did, and she relayed this to him in Chinese. I don't think he even knew what was going on, his vision clouded by the lakes in his eyes and his hearing drowned out by the deafening roar that his little mouth was emitting.

I walked back into the classroom to find my usually hyper A.D.D. kids just sitting....staring in awe. Their little jaws just hanging there, stunned by the sudden chaos that had just erupted. I went back to flashcards I was showing them, and there was an unusual calmness in the room.

About ten minutes later, i decided to go check on the kid in the office. I've never seen a kid so traumatized. His face was just soaked in tears, his shirt drenched by the falling streams and sweat he worked up trying to escape my grasp. Even his hair was soaked. I tried talking to him, but he was just sobbing, and coughing harder than I've ever heard a kid cough. He couldn't even stop coughing for a second to catch his breath. He just kept going. I don't think he was mad at me, just shocked and confused. He just sat there on the floor, looking at me like he didn't know what the fuck to think or do. This kid was messed up. He wanted his mom.

I didn't know how to feel. He needed punishment, but all i wanted to do was make him sit in the hall. I didn't want to traumatize the kid for life. I felt horrible about what had transpired, and decided he could come with me back to the classroom. i picked him up and he just kind of went with it. When we got to the door, the very one he fought so hard to run through only moments ago, he began to scream again. You'd think it was the gate to hell or something.

So then the Chinese teachers come out again, and this time it looks like I'm trying to force the kid INTO the classroom! I put him down and one of them gives him a talking to in Chinese again, and i try to explain that it is ok, he can come in if he wants. He slowly enters the room and just stands by the door, watching the other kids do their activities. I scared the shit out of that kid.

He eventually gets back to his normal self, wandering back up to the table where other kids are coloring. He seems to be back to normal for a few minutes when one of the Chinese teachers comes in and asks to take him. The principle, who was out before, has come back and got word of what he did. She wants to see him, so he sort of sanders out of the room without a fuss.

I didn't see poor Ben until i was about to leave, when the kids were beginning to eat their lunch. The principle comes in with him and tells me his mom is sorry, and he apologizes to me again as well. He goes and joins the others at lunch, and the principle shows me a little cup about half full with what looked like soapy water. It wasn't...it was his spit.

I just wanted him to wait in the hall.....

Taipei Through Ryan's Lens

2007-02-12T03:26:00.000-08:00

Silhouette of a Dragon statue in the dark Taipei night

Wishes of good luck and fortune for the upcoming new year.

Candles lit for prayer at a Buddhist temple

A few people gather at the New Years Market

Serenity within the walls of a Buddhist sanctuary

Road Trip!

2007-02-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

So as you can tell from the above photos, I took a little road trip to Taipei this last weekend. Amanda and I decided that we should visit and thank her friend Han, who got us our apartment here in Taichung. We did a few touristy things, visiting parks and temples and markets, and such... but I tried to post some photos that weren't of the typical tourist variety.

After getting the idea of the dragon silhouette from a man in a photography class, I decided that I Need (not want...but NEED) a professional SLR camera instead of my piece of shit point and shoot. Think of the photos my talented geniusness could take if I had a good camera! His photos kicked my ass and we were taking the same damn pictures! I just didn't have the quality of lens or ability to adjust seetings like he did, and I am never going to reach my full artistic potential and capture the images as I see them unless I have the proper equipment to work with. I also decided that i want to be a photographer, a journalist, or a documentary film maker. Maybe I'll just be all three. One day...one day.

Take a trip with me, squeezing through the crowd at a snails pace, as I explore a tiny part of Taipei's Crazy Chinese New Year Market.

Learning how to un-learn

2007-02-08T21:44:00.000-08:00

In order to be safe, i need to be reckless.

This is what I have learned in my first week with a scooter in Taichung. pretty much everything I have been taught to do on the roads in Canada does not apply here. I am now beginning to learn how to drive like an Asian, and forget how to drive, as Ming put it, "like a Canadian".

First of all, that shoulder check they force us to do in Canada before changing lanes: forget about it. Those ten nanoseconds you spend glancing over your left shoulder are ten nanoseconds you are not watching the road in front of you. This is when you will either run over a j-walker, t-bone a car running a red light, rear end the scooter stopping for no reason in front of you, or get smoked by a parked car opening their door. So which seems like a better idea? Doing a shoulder check, or the latter options? I think I'll forget how to shoulder check.

Secondly, those little pieces of glass that reflect light and images that are attached to the handlebars? forget them too. As outlined above, the split second that you spend glancing in your mirrors means you are not aware of the aforementioned dangers that lurk ahead.

The point? Don't give a flying fuck about what is going on behind you. If you need to swerve out of the way of an oncoming obstacle, then do so and let the person behind you worry about avoiding you. Everyone learns to read the flow of traffic ahead and anticipate what will happen next. Everything is about what is in front. this is a hard concept for a Canadian to understand, but it seems to work. my initial fear is to be concerned with not cutting someone off behind be, but i am starting to realize that more harm will come to me from being courteous than from being selfish. If everyone else on the road only watches in front of them and is aware of what the people ahead are doing, then there is no need for anyone to look back.

The best strategy for making left turns at intersections is to gun it as the light turns green, before the oncoming traffic begins to go. This seems to work quite well, as you get to go without waiting very long. if you don't go right away, then you put yourself at risk waiting in danger in the middle of an intersection where people get angry if you are in their way.

Turn signals. They are useless. Nobody pays attention to them. You don't need them. Chances are, putting your right turn signal on will give you a false sense of hope that nobody will pass you on your right hand side as you make your right hand turn. Plus, thats time you need to spend concentrating on flicking a little switch on and off, and thus you are distracted from watching the road.

And finally: Go as fast as you can! The slower you go, the more scooters will overtake you and cut you off. The slower you go, the more cars will pull out of intersections and parking stalls in front of you. The slower you go, the more you will get honked at and bullied around on the road. Going fast solves all these problems. you separate yourself from the pack of scooters and you don't give other cars the chance to cut in front of you. Of course, higher speeds do add a certain element of danger to the equation, but the reoccurring theme here is to make the best choice between the lesser of many evils.

Mirrors. Shoulder checks. Courtesy for those behind you, Safe speeds. Turn signals. Waiting for oncoming traffic to make left turns. That's really all you need to Un-learn to give yourself a flying chance at surviving on the roads of Taiwan.

Now you know why 'stereotypically' we think Asian drivers are bad. they are not, they just like to play with a 'you snooze, you loose mentality'.

Lets talk about life...

2007-02-07T03:19:00.000-08:00

Its time to get deep. This could be a long one...

I realized something the other day. I like to write. Many of you may have noticed this lately, if you haven't just passed off the number of recent blog posts as my other favorite pastime of talking about myself whenever possible.

The thing is, i have this desire in me to write, I just don't really know what to write about. Coming to Taiwan has given me a bit of new material to work with, but I'm not sure how much longer i can continue make scooter rides and teaching stories entertaining. Most of the time here, the thoughts that come to me have passed by the time i get a chance to write them down. Once this moment has left me, i find it difficult to motivate myself to think back and recall what it was that was previously on my mind. Often, my thoughts get lost and forgotten in the never ending circus music soundtrack that is my mind. Today however, I'm in a writing mood, so here we go...

Last night I did a lot of thinking and reflecting on life, all of which begun after listening to a point that Amanda's cousin made over Dinner. Mark, who is about to leave Taiwan to go build a house in India, was expressing his feelings of anxiety over his upcoming adventure. Dealing with conflicting inner feelings of excitement and apprehension, he is not sure what he really wants to do. He enjoys the comfort and security of his life here, yet he is bored and restless and needs change. A part of him doesn't even really want to go to India, and part of him is kicking himself out of Taiwan. So what does he do?

I think that this is the inner conflict that is inside all of us. We crave adventure and get bored easily, yet we are afraid of the unknown. I understand exactly what Mark is going through, as it is exactly what i went through before coming to Taiwan.

I didn't really express this to anybody before I came to Taiwan, but i wasn't even sure if I wanted to come here. I talked about it for so long - hopping on a plane after graduation and teaching English - that I didn't even really sit back and think if it was really what i wanted to do. When it came time to actually make it reality, i just kind of followed the momentum I had created for myself by talking about it so much, that i really didn't even give myself a say in the matter.

Leaving Canada this time was difficult. It was different from my previous trips in that there was an air of uncertainty about it. I don't know when I'm coming home, where I'll end up, or when I'll see many of my friends again. I know there is more too it than that deep inside, but i can't really explain it. It just felt weird. Part of my craves this new adventure, and part of me is tired of leaving important friends and family behind wherever I go.

Which brings me back to my conversation with mark that set me off on this wave of thought. what the hell are we supposed to do? I hear many of you tell me that you enjoy reading my stories, and are living your lives vicariously through me. But my life is not that great, just different from the 'normal'. I gave up a lot of things to come here. I think what separates the Mark's, and Amanda's, and me from the vast majority is that we take that plunge into the unknown, scared or not, and figure out the details as they present themselves. We are motivated by the mundane... we need to escape it. Every obstacle we face doing so is just another adventure and has its own rewards at the end of the day.

I think the point I'm trying to get out of my head is that life is too short to spend in a comfort zone, afraid of forcing yourself to take that leap into the unknown. This world is huge, and there is too much to see before we die. Taiwan is no paradise, but every morning I wake up and spend the day experiencing something new. I'm never bored. If i had listened to that part of me that was afraid of coming here, I'd still be washing dishes at the UVic cafeteria. Nice and comfortable in Canada, but bored and generally unsatisfied with my life.

But now I am here, experiencing something different, and this is just another case to refer to the next time i need a push into another unknown. I am thankful everyday for the opportunities i have been given in life, and never take them for granted. I don't know how I went from a teenager motivated by greed and the desire to become a rich engineer with a corvette and a penthouse apartment, to a useless bum who has no clue what an RRSP or any of those 'responsible' life plans are. Regardless of how i got here, I wouldn't trade my current situation for any of those desired material possessions or stereotypes of what a 'normal' path through life should consist of. That option will always be there in the future, but I won't be able live my younger years of freedom and adventure forever.

What the hell am I trying to say? Maybe I'm not that great of writer, since i can't even figure out my own thesis statement. I think the gist of it is that this world is an amazing place, and we in the West are too fortunate to not take advantage of the opportunities we have to experience the diversity it has to offer us. You don't realize what you are missing if you don't take that leap. Quit your jobs back home and come live in Taiwan... That's my point!

You teach, you save money, you travel the world, and then you can go home and work your 9-5 if that's what you still want to do. Or, you might just realize there is a whole other 'world' out there that you can't believe you almost missed out on. Its just that simple...so why not give it a shot? I am very grateful to have Amanda come here at the same time and show me the ropes and introduce me to Taiwanese friends who are always there to help me out of a jam. Without all them, this would have been a pretty tough experience, and for that reason, I am indebted to them for everything they have done and will continue to do for me. So now, I feel it is my duty to pass it on, or 'pay it forward' if you will. Come to Taiwan, Lin Shao Wang will take you under his wing!

Back full circle to my desire to write....

What can I do? could I write articles for newspaper travel sections? Should I write a book, and if so, what the hell would it be about? Do I just continue to write blog postings and updates on my bowel movements? I don't know, but i need a focus. I still want to be famous, and I want to make films too. you think anyone outside my blog audience would listen to my rants about shitty bus rides and pessimistic view about how unfair the world is?

oh yeah, that brings me to a tangent/rant.

You know all that stuff you buy back home that is made in Taiwan? Well, every time you buy something that is made here, know that a part of it is going into my lungs. Moving to Taiwan has taught me a thing or two about the consequences of globalization and our affluence in the west. You see, in Taiwan, there aren't really any pollution standards. So the whole island is essentially one giant factory producing cheap shit for North Americans to play with, while the Taiwanese get to enjoy it in a different way.... they eat it! I can feel it in my throat, that scratchy, flemmy, make-you-wanna-cough-but-can't sensation that is a direct result of the insane amount of pollution that is pumped into the air here. And all those batteries you throw away....well, Canada is to pristine to pollute their environment, so what do they do? They ship them to Taiwan! out of sight, out of mind. For Canadians anyway...

OK, so i had to throw at least one bitch-session rant in here. I'll stop now.

Come on, take a ride with me

2007-02-06T20:26:00.001-08:00

ok, so this is my fist attempt at seeing if I could actually upload video via Youtube to by blog. Now that I know it works, I will put more effort into actually recording decent quality video. This is the first couple minutes of my ride to work in the morning. its pretty early and I took the back roads, so there isn't much traffic. You get too see the front door of my appartment building, and the lovely little courtyard where everyone parks their scooters.

Sorry for the crappy quality video. Its just taken on my digital photo camera, and it can't seem to adjust the contrast through the wires of my basket on the front of the scooter. i'm sure i'll perfect the art soon.

My new lady friend

2007-02-05T22:30:00.000-08:00

I have a new friend. I don't know her name, she's kinda ugly, pretty old, and she weighs a few hundred pounds. I love her though... and like to ride her all night long!

I am talking about my scooter of course. And she needs a name. I don't remember how Betsy the rustang got her name, I think it just came to me. My scooter however, is not doing the same. So, what should it be?

Thelma?
Helga?
Suzy?
Louise?
Sally?
Betty?
Roxanne?

So I'm asking you all to let me know if you think any of these are good. Or, of course, any original suggestions will be considered. Wouldn't you like the honor of naming the beast I will straddle every day and night?

Meet Lin Shao Wáng:

2007-02-05T21:43:00.000-08:00

So, I have finally decided on my Chinese name, and will probably get laughed at by almost everybody I introduce myself to from now on. Instead of just picking a name that would be 'normal', I decided to have a little fun and encourage people to mock and make fun of me. Why not, It is all in good fun....I hope.

So, my quest began with a few brainstorming ideas. Trying to come up with adjectives to describe yourself is a little bit hard to do, so I threw the suggestion out to you, my loyal readers. Thanks to those who sent suggestions, although in reality none of them turned out to be usable. You tried.

One thing I knew for sure after meeting Mika's (also known as Fez, My foreign friend, who is now no longer 'foreign', as it is I who is the foreigner....) Mom, who has become my adopted mother here in Taiwan. So, seeing how I have a second mother here in Taiwan, and Mika is my only Taiwanese friend, I thought it would be suiting to adopt their last name, Lin.

With that figured out, i had to decide on my first name quickly so I could apply for my working visa. Now, I had this bright idea to take the Gaelic meaning of Ryan (Little King) and simply translate it into Chinese. Done and simple? Well, not really. But who cares, I'll pick it anyway

You see, the words little and King together form something in Chinese that is not just so normal. It seems that Shao Wáng stands for a bunch of things, of which i am only starting to understand. Here's what I figure:

First of all, if you were to tell a child a nursery rhyme or story, that's the generic name you would use. Little prince Shao Wang....

Second, The last name Wang, is probably the most common last name in Chinese, probably equivalent to Smith. Its my first name.

Thirdly, the name Shao Wang is so well known and used as a generic name, that no parent in their right mind would ever use it to name their child. Basically, you'd set them up for a life of ridicule. meh, what the hell...

So, see what I'm saying. The name is insanely popular without anybody ever having it. So I'm probably the only person in China that is actually dumb enough to use it. I'm basically your average John Doe.

Then again, I kinda like it for that reason. Everyone smiles and laughs with me (well, at me...) when i introduce myself, and nobody will ever forget it. And since it has meaning with my Gaelic Irish ancestry, it somewhat fits. We all know how much I like people to talk about me, and now the Chinese have a reason to mock me, just like all my other friends!

Plus, Its probably the simplest name to write! Now we need to name my scooter...

A Special Guest Post

2007-02-05T21:11:00.000-08:00

Note: Amanda made me remove the old photo of her that was here because she "didn't like how she looked". You can enjoy this one until she bitches at me to take it off too.

By Amanda Broad

I hope you all have been checking out Ryan's web page for daily updates on the life of a newbie in the Republic of China. I have to say I'm patting myself on the back for sorting him out with jobs and I'm thrilled that everyone here loves him. I've been trying to save up stories to write about, and here are a couple.

Story 1: Health Check

So by direction of the government of Taiwan we were forced to undergo a health check. Roughly the scenario is a 30 min cab ride and directions to the hospital food court for the health check which then lead us to a door. Upon opening the door Ryan discovered a parking garage where a whole whack load of foreigners (mostly Indonesians, Malays, and phillipinos) were lined up, to simplify things lets say about 500. A bunch of money is taken from us and we are moved from here to there, appearing to skip the registration and X-ray line up as we are ushered to the front of the line while everyone else has been waiting. We are then given our own little change room while the asians changed in the hall.... did I mention that we were the only North Americans aka whites? All of this made us feel fairly uneasy.. Ryan envisioned being stabbed outside at one point. Finally we get to line up like the rest. A vision test which was a joke, my height was measured to only about half way up my head, we skipped the stool test but I saw one guy with a couple samples passing them to his buddies. As for the blood test, I'd prefer not to imagine it again. Today we received the results.... it seems Ryan and I are 26 years old? I don't have asthma? and my blood pressure number has suddenly changed? well at least it says we don't have any health problems and HIV free... if you trust that they didn't just dump the samples right after.

Story 2: Hot Water

I'm in an abusive relationship here in Taiwan. Every morning a barge of swear words come flying out of my mouth as I whack this little machine attached to my shower. This machine has a little red light that toys with my emotions. When it is lit, I am immersed in wondrously hot water but then it becomes fickle and suddenly the light goes out and the temperature plummets causing icicles to form. When will the light turn back on? Know one knows...we have had it fixed, we have tried many different theories, superstitions, chants, sacrifices but finally I have decided that though I am not normally a violent person.. this stupid water heater requires many good whacks.

I'd prefer to also forget about all that electricity running next to the water....

Love and light.... plus a hug or two... Teacher Amanda

Scurvy's sweet new ride!

2007-02-03T05:39:00.000-08:00

Cost of purchasing your very own scooter in Taiwan:
$321

New front and rear tires because the old ones were completely bald:
$50

New side-view mirrors to replace the current, non-existing ones:
$10

New motorcycle helmet because you don't trust the plastic skateboard helmet that came free with the bike to protect your skull in the event of a crash:
$25

Cost of filling up your tank with gas:
$2.50

Experiencing the thrill of putting your life at risk day-in day-out on the streets of Taichung:
Priceless!

So yeah, this is my sweet new ride. Isn't she beautiful? A whole whopping 49ccs of rip roarin' action packed adventure fun balanced on two bald rubber tires! She's a little bunged up, even after I took her in for some minor repairs. I figured some treaded tires would be worth the $50 investment when the rains come. And, peripheral vision via a couple new side mirrors couldn't hurt since they may just save my life, so I figured they too were worth an extra $10. Shes got a lot of war wounds on her body, most likely the result of a few little trips down to the pavement, but i think it adds character and lets just hope she's got all that out of her system for her new owner.

Amanda has my parents phone number in her cell phone, so mom, If I should happen to not come home one night, you can rest assured that at least Amanda will come looking for me and give you a heads up :)

Ryan's got a new set of wheels. My first since good 'ol Betsy the Rustang. Yeehaw!

How to Learn to Drive a Scooter in Taiwan

2007-02-01T22:42:00.000-08:00

Step one:
Face your psychological fears and issues with a former motor vehicle accident in Asia and tell yourself you can do it.

Step two:
Have your Taiwanese Friend Wayway agree to trust you with her bike and take you to an empty parking lot.

Step three:
Rip around that parking lot like there is no tomorrow. Look like a retard doing so. Feel the power that a whopping 125cc's have to offer.

Step four:
Contemplate how well that $6 helmet with a loose chin strap would really protect your skull in an accident. Just decide you are not going to try and find out.

Step five:
Decide you are ready to venture out onto the road. Go for a rip around the block by yourself, remembering not to turn right on a red light. That is illegal in Taiwan and would probably result in Wayway's bike being impounded because a dumb foreigner with no license is driving it.

Step six:
Experience the feeling of taking a cute Taiwanese girl for a rip on the back of your scooter (well technically it is her scooter, but you pretend). Turn left out of the parking lot and almost get smoked by a speeding truck. Play it cool like you meant to do that for her sake, but really you need to change your pants.

Step seven:
Practice weaving in and out of traffic and budging your way to the front of the line at red lights. scare the shit out of your friend because she underestimates your ability to squeeze through the tightest gaps in between cars. Feel your confidence building.

Step eight:
Feel the road, the wind in your hair, and think about how bad you want to grow another mullet.

Step nine:
Crawl through the 5-way intersection where you saw two scooters t-bone each other one week ago. almost cause an accident cause you are going too slow.

Step ten:
Drop off your scooter and Taiwanese friend at her house, and walk home. Realize that you are tired of walking and must get your own scooter ASAP.

Entertaining the masses

2007-02-01T21:11:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention after talking to may of my faithful followers, that my blog is actually being read by more people than I thought. It seems that my address has been forwarded on to many people who somewhat know me and for some odd reason, appear to be interested in what I have to say. Why random people would have an interest in my bowel movements and adventure finding a job in Taiwan, I don't quite understand. Nevertheless, I now feel it is my duty to make my stories as enjoyable and interesting as possible for the average reader, as I do my best to entertain the masses.

So lets begin, shall we, with Ryan's first two days as a kindergarten teacher in Taiwan.

"Oh my god, what the hell am I doing here" was my general feeling after about five minutes of Day number one.

That feeling was then quickly followed by thoughts of "Screw this, I'm walking out right now" by minute ten and "I'm going to kill these children" by about the half hour mark.

Ok, no, so I don't really want to kill them, they are actually sweet little children and they really make me laugh. Its just going to take some getting used to teaching them, since they don't really understand what i say and they have the attention span of a fish. I don't blame them though. They are 4 years old and being expected to learn phonics and read and write. Kids back home at my moms daycare just get to play all day, and these children already have to deal with homework and grades. So, I am going to try and make English fun for them. Don't have a freeking (expletive edited just for you Grandpa!) clue how yet, but I'm going to try. Today I almost got them to understand the concept of Duck Duck Goose, except half the time the kid that got picked as the goose was too busy enjoying picking his nose to bother getting up and running around. We'll try that again on Monday.

I'm actually surprised how smart these little kids are. they catch me off guard sometimes with their English vocabulary, and some of them even figured out that if they never get up off their chair in musical chairs, they can't lose!

So, while it does feel kinda cool to be adored by ten little children (that's all I really want in life is to get attention and be admired, and it still counts even if it is from 4 year old children), I am going to enjoy my weekend while I regroup and try and figure out how to hold their attention next week while teaching them at the same time.

Tune in Next time for more adventures of my own version of Kindergarten cop.

Hard to believe I am actually responsible for educating these little tykes!

Meet Teacher Ryan...

2007-01-30T20:10:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name is Ryan, and I am now officially a Kindergarten and Grade 4 teacher. I'm not really qualified, I just got hired because I showed up in Taiwan and my skin color is white. It will no doubt be a learning process for me, especially considering I have to figure out how to entertain and teach kids all day by myself. For the equivilent of a $70,000 a year salary back in Canada, however, I think I am up for the challenge.

So, as I struggle with the ethical issues of spreading western culture to little taiwnese kids via the english language, I will begin fine-tuning my singing voice and refreshing my memory with the words of 'itsy bitsy spider'.

While my grade 4 teaching gig doesn't start for another month, I begin teaching my kindergarten class tomorrow morning. In case anyone happens to have any awesome activities and games to play with kindergarten children that don't really speak much english, fire em at me. I need all the help i can get!

Pulling the Plug

2007-01-30T20:06:00.000-08:00

So, just how do you go about solving a week's worth of constipation in a foreign country?

Just go to MacDonald's... Works every time!

On the 8th Day...

2007-01-29T03:59:00.000-08:00

Thanks to those of you who sent me suggestions as to what my chinese name should be. As funny as some of them would be, I have kinda come to realize that i should probably take it a bit more serious than I originally thought. While 'Chief Moose Hairy third nipple the 4th' would be funny for a week or so, it would not exactly present a respectable image to the parents of the children I will be responsible for educating.

So, with that in mind, I think I will leave it up to my chinese friends who know me best and also know the significance of the mandarin names they would choose. That, or i may translate the Gaelic meaning of Ryan, which happens to be 'little king'. Sometimes, I do feel as though I am royalty...

As for life in Taichung after one week, I'm managing to settle in quite nicely. I took the job that was offered to me at amanda's school, working 4 hours a day in the afternoons. I am going to try and find a morning gig, which will mean i should be raking in the dough. My job does not start until the end of February, however, which leaves me with some time to kill in the meantime. I am substitute teaching for a kindergarden class during the week of feb 12-16, which should give me a little extra cash to blow during the next week off for chinese new year.

the search for a scooter is still ongoing, as I have decided to suck it up and face my fear of death and try to find one. I'm tired of walking 10 kms a day. I need wheels.

last night while studying some chinese, i felt like a beer. So, I walked to the corner and bought one for 80 cents from the 7-11.

Scooters get set to take off down Xiengshang Rd near my house

My new Crib, starting to feel a bit more like home

Ryan needs a Name!

2007-01-26T23:03:00.000-08:00

How would you like a hand in giving Ryan a brand new name? This is your chance!

Have you ever thought to your self, man that ryan is a 'sarcastic ass' ? Well, perhaps that should be my name. Or maybe even 'Raging Alcoholic', or 'Super Genius'. See, now that i am applying for a working permit here in Taiwan, i need a chinese name. it can be anything you or I want it to be, translated into chinese.

So the search begins.... kinda like the time i tried to give myself a cool nickname, only to end up with scurvy inadvertently. Only this time its for real.

Ryan needs a new name! If you have any ideas that would reflect my character or personality, then post a response and let me know what you think. If you speak chinese and understand the deeper connotations behind different possible names, then it is a bonus. I'll take any suggestions at this point though.

Would you like some blood with your rice?

2007-01-26T22:00:00.000-08:00

What would a Ryan Harrington travel blog be without updates on my Bowel Movements?

So, somewhere between the coagulated duck blood and the sheep intestines, I got constipated. I suppose this is better than the alternative - the gushing diahrea that I was warned to expect from my last meal.

And I am not complaining by the way. The food here sofar has been amazing. lets take a look at just a few of the interesting foods I have sampled as of yet:

A big hunk of Coagulated Duck Blood
1000 year old eggs
dove eggs
Bovine stumach
Sheep intestines
Squid (complete with inky stuff)
Blood rice (pigs blood mixed with rice)

And i'm sure there is much more to come!

Q & A With Ryan

2007-01-24T18:33:00.000-08:00

Instead of a usual post, lets try a Q&A taken from an edited msn conversation with mom:

hey kiddo, how are you?
i'm good, i think i have a job

okay, so does that mean you got through your interview and 25 minutes infront of the class?
yeah

so, tell me the details about the job
its the job at amandas school. the other teacher turned it down because of politics....long story

grade 4?
yes, and they are a bunch of little hell raisers apparently. 9 boys, 5 girls

at the daycare, you learned how to be firm, but kind too. You can do it. I have faith in you. What a great opportunity for experience and you are only committed for 4 months. do they speak any english?
yeah, they're english is pretty good. i would essentially be a grade 4 teacher. follow a basic curriculum, but make up all my own tests, quizzes, worksheets, homework etc. there is a chinese teacher in the class too.

so, are you up for this challenge?
i think i'd be dumb to turn down a job. as it is, it won't start for another month

and how is the pay and when do you start?
pay is about $1700 a month. not bad for 4 hours work a day. mon, wed are longer, i'm teaching for 4 hours, but the other 3 days, only real class instruction time is about 1 hour and 20 mins. rest of time is lesson planning and marking and stuff. winter break starts next week, and is 3 weeks this year instead of 2, and then a week off for chinese new year. and it ends in late june, so i will really only have 4 months.

so, have they offered it to you?
yeah, she essentially offered me the job and sayed she wanted me to let her know by today

so are you going to say yes?
only thing i'm worried about is the chinese co-teacher is amanda's friend, and i don't want her to dislike me and cause any rift between them

Ryan, she won't dislike you. You are VERY LIKEABLE!!
I know. How could anybody not like me?

maybe you being a guy will help out, just like you helped at the daycare?
maybe, but their current teacher is a guy too, but he seems kindof lazy and doesn't discipline them at all. its not fair here though, i'm starting to see things differently. amy (co teacher) has lived in canada, has her ECE from vancouver, and has been teaching for like 7 years in taiwan. she is essentially vice principle, puts in insanely long days working, and and is super stressed. I'm affraid she would build resentment towards me.

is it because you have a degree and she only has a certificate?
no, its because i'm white. its like that everywhere, and foreign teachers have a reputation for being arrogant and are generally dispised by all the chinese teachers. i don't really blame them for being bitter. its only because i am a native english speaker. thats it. the rich parents want my accent. i'm just a white face that sells an image to the parents. it doesn't matter that amys english is excellent and she is a great teacher

well, you can go into the school and show the chinese teachers that you are different, compassionate and understanding?
yeah, i know. I will. i am really ecited about the challenge and having my own class

so, tell me more about the apartment. What are you sleeping on, can you cook, do you have a toilet??
we have a kitchen, but no fridge and no gas for the stove, so i just eat out. the appartment is nice than i expected, but amanda says her old one was much nicer. i have a bed to sleep on, and some dressers and a desk. bought some sheets and a pillow yesterday. up till then i was using my sleeping bag along with the sheet and 2 pillows i stole from the airplane. shower now has hot water and pressure, which is a bonus

toilet?
yes mother, i have a toilet.

and is the rent still $200 canadian a month?
rent is actually free. han's (amanda's friend) parents own the appartment building and won't let us pay. the appartment has just been empty for a few years. its either a half assed addition on the top of a builing, or a penthouse suite. depends on your perspective. The 5 flights of stair with no elivator is gonna whip my buttox into great shape though.

how far is it to the school? can you walk to work?
its about a half hour walk

so are you going to buy a skooter?
mmm.....not sure after what i saw yesterday. i am realizing that the thailand truck incident has left me with serious psychological issues. and i saw two scoters collide full speed right in front of me yesterday, and one lady was just lying on her stumach unconcious or dead and nobody seemed to be doing anything. i assume somebody called an ambulance, but everyone was just kinda wantering around looking at her

is it HOT to walk?
not at the moment. i want to just get a bycycle, but amanda seems to think that is more dangerous than a scooter. we'll see. the accident happened because they both ran through a small intersection without slowing down and looking. if i get one, i'm gonna be the most cautios person on the road. if i don't get one, i really limit myself in terms of getting multiple jobs and tutoring gigs

so, what are you going to do with your free time until the job starts?
i'm thinking about taking chinese classes. i'm gonna apply for more jobs too

and Amanda is doing okay?
yeah, she seems really happy to be back. she said on the plane she was wondering what the hell she was doing coming here, but as soon as she got here she couldn't believe how much she missed it. i'm sure i'll go through phases of wondering what i am doing here. but its also funny how much i just feel at home here allready

so, are you going back to the school now to accept the job?
yeah, i think i will later. it'd be pretty dumb to turn it down. i'm also considering teaching till june, travelling for only a couple months in the summer, and then coming back in september, signing a year contract and just getting all student loans paid off. we'll see how i feel about that in a few months.

Ryan, how did you become such an amazing person?
oh mom, stop. You know I am too humble to answer that question!

66 stairs to the Penthouse

2007-01-21T19:11:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my new home. So, given what i was expecting when Amanda's friend said she had place lined up for us to stay that was "maybe little broken", its actually pretty nice. The gas for the stove does not work, and its pretty dusty because nobody has lived there in a few years, but it will do just fine. The shower might take some getting used to, having about as much water coming out of it as a stream of urine. My urine stream is also probably much warmer, but i'm not complaining cause i have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep on!

We are on the top floor of the appartment building, and there is a pretty nice deck on the roof across the hall. If amanda and i ever make friends to entertain, it will be the place to be.

I need to learn to speak Mandarin. That, I have definitly learned in the last few hours. Its pertty tough and i can't imagine how i'm going to order any food when amanda and her taiwanese friend amy are not around. its gonna be a lot of guess and pointing at menus.

I have really good vibes so far, and i think its gonna be a pretty good adventure. I love being back in asia; the sights, sounds, smells, food, markets and daily life are so much more diverse and interesting than back home. I need to get myself a scooter.

So yeah, thats all i'm going to say for my first post, check back in a few days and i'll probably have posted some stories in more detail.

View from my balcony

Here I go again...

2007-01-17T20:06:00.000-08:00

I've recently begun to notice a trend developing in my life. Since I graduated High School almost 8 years ago, my life has pretty much gone in one year cycles. Itching for a change of scenery, I always seem to get bored and restless around the one year mark, and my time is up once again.

Graduating from UVic at the end of August (with distinction!), I found myself in a state of limbo. Not really knowing what I wanted to do for a 'real' job, I just kind of passed the time working part time at the Uvic caffeteria and contemplating what to do next (thanks to Dre, Amanda, and Ming for the hours invested listening to me talk about myself).

Then my friend Amanda got an email one day offering her a job back in Taiwan where she taught a couple years ago. That kind of put the idea in her head of going back, and I was right there to push her into it cause then I'd have a buddy and an excuse to get the hell out of my state of limbo.

And, so, thats what brings me to my current situation. After switching my state of limbo from Victoria to Squamish for about a month and a half, I'm now about to hop on a plane Friday afternoon and embark on my next adventure. I think its time for Ryan to get his ass in gear and do something productive. I just need to find myself a job, and hopefully the Orient is kinder to me this time and doesn't send me home prematurely with two bunged up legs again.

Tofino

2007-01-06T05:49:00.000-08:00

Why I hate Venezuela

2005-12-24T16:52:00.000-08:00

Perhaps its a bit pre-judgemental to judge a county based on my first 12 hours in it, but given my current mood, I´m going to anyway.

Maybe it´s because I had to pay $65 dollars to get here on the bus from Columbia. Maybe its because I had to pay $35 for a taxi ride from the Bus terminal to a shithole of a town near the airport that is conveniently located 45 minutes outside of Caracas. Or maybe its because the cheapest hotel i could find anywhere is $30 a night, in an area that is innundated with prostitutes, street thugs, drug dealers, and any other dispicable walk of life you could imagine flooding the streets. It could be because I found out I have to pay a $48 departure tax leaving the airport, that the beach sucks, or even because the food is shit and its becoming oh so temping to end that 7 month ´McDonalds free´ streak and go for a Big Mac. But most likely, Its because i just realised that I got robbed of $40 US by a customs official at the border. And to think, I almost made it through South America without getting robbed. So close...two more days to go, and of all people, a fucking customs official.

What makes me the most pissed off about the situation is how he did it, which blows my mind. After waiting 2 hours in line to get my passport stamped, the customs officials select three people from the bus to get searched. Oh, you choose the three Gringos? Thats Convienient. Is it because they are most likely to be the ones smuggling drugs? Of course not, its because we have money! So buddy takes me into a room and makes me empty all my pockets, and searches me only to find no drugs. Nuts, he can´t take a bribe from me then. So then he asks if i have had my yellow fever shots. I show him my vaccination card and he expresses a dissapointed look on his face. Nuts, nothing to pin on me for a bribe. Then he goes through my money belt, and begins to act like its not allowed for me to have $100 US in cash on me. Apparently, thats enough to warrant a bribe. He keeps going off about how i have to give him $40 so that there is ´no problem´ and everything will be fine. To which i Reply, no, there is ´no problem´, and you´re not getting any money. Finally he gives up, and realises that he´s got nothing on me and lets me go. I gather up my shit, and go back to the bus to laugh with all the people around me as I tell them how he tried to intimidate me into giving him $40 and Didn´t fall for it. A person behind me who spoke good english told me that they do that to all the tourists, trying to intimidate them into giving up cash if they are scared or intimidated. But i wasn´t at all. He wasn´t getting any money from me. Or so i thought.

Which brings me to an hour ago when i Just realized that I´m Coincidentally $40 US short in my money belt. Now would be a good time to mention that this is hard to type cause i think my pinky finger is broken from punching the wall.

The bastard was so smooth in however he got the money that it boggles my mind how he did it. It never even crossed my mind to count the money after i left the room because it never seemed suspicious at all. He found the cash, counted it, and gave it back to me. thats when he said i wasn´t allowed to have the cash on me, and tried to get me to give him $40 to take care of the 'Problem', and i say no. From this point on, i was holding it in my hand, and before that, I was watching everything really closely. He had to have somehow taken the money before he gave it back to me and even before he told me to give him $40, possibly knowing that i would say no and not count the money again. Bastard.

The thing that stings the most is not the loss of the actual money itself, but the fact that getting robbed in that sort of way leaves a real sour taste in your mouth. You feel so stupid for falling for it, to the point that you would almost rather be robbed straight up where you knew there is nothing you can do about it. And now that I've jinxed myself by saying I'd rather get robbed straight up, you can check the blog again in a few days to read about how i get robbed straight up on the streets of my passport, money, and everything else i need to catch my flight home.

By the way, for those of you who don´t know, I get home Boxing day and am going straight up to squamish for a few days before heading off to Victoria to try and find a place to live for January.

The Lost World

2005-12-17T16:50:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Jungle.

If you'd have told me two years ago that I'd find myself trekking through the Columbian Jungle at this point in my life, I'd have probably said you were crazy. But, after what has pretty much been the most exhausting 6 days of my life, I can now say that I have been there, and done that.

The reason for such a trek through the dense Columbian jungle: Ciudad Perdida, literally translated to `The lost City`. Unlike Macchu Picchu, which is easily accessible by train for the lazy old white package tourist, this lost ancient city is only reached by foot, 6 days of foot. Wading accross rivers, climbing up mountains, climbing down mountains, slashing through dense vegetation, passing by cocaine farms and laboratories, sleeping in hammoks, and drinking beer with Paramilitary soldiers....this trek had it all. My ankles hurt, my knees hurt, my back hurts, my shoulders hurt, I'm covered in mosquito bites, I'm sick, my clothes are filthy, I haven't had a decent sleep in 5 nights, I'm exhausted, and I'm just generally bunged up. But it was worth it.

Covering an area of 2 sqare kilometers, the city is essentially in the state now as it was 30 years ago when it was first discovered. Taking off on my own and getting lost, I felt as though i was the first one discovering it. Stone paths led in a laborinth of a maze through the jungle, from one stone platform to another, where the houses of the ancient tayrona people once stood. There were no sounds around me other than those of the jungle itself, which has reclaimed the city and buried it in vegetation. Macchu picchu and its 3500 tourists a day is overrated. This is the real lost city of south america as far as I'm concerned. 6 days of serious sweat and hard work to reach the city and suprisingly, no package tourists there.

9 Days Later...

2005-12-11T16:50:00.000-08:00

So i finally made it to the Caribbean Coast. Only about a month and a half late. After flying into columbia, I planned on spending about a day or two in bogota, before leaving for the coast. And, well, 9 days of binge drinking later I finally motivated myself to get out of the city. Its a real shame that i don't have more time here in columbia, and that I took so long to get here. The travellers scene is awesome, the people are super friendly, the girls are beautiful, and the beach...well the beach is everything you'd expect the caribbean to be.

My plan is to spend my last two weeks trekking into the jungle, scuba diving, and lying on the beach. However, with time rapidly running out, I've been toying with the idea of postphoning my flight and not coming home for a while. Oh, how tempting that idea is.

Anyway, I don't really have the motivation to write anymore. So, thats all i'm gonna say today. Tomorrow i'm off on a 6 day trek into the jungle to see a lost civilization that wasn't discovered until 1975. After seeing machu Picchu and how hyped up and raped by tourism it is, I'm really excited to see this lost city. there's only one trip a week into it, so i'll only have to share it with the 7 other people in my group. should be amazing. Won't be checking email or posting for a week, don't think there will be internet access deep in the jungle.

Things to Accomplish Before I die

2005-12-07T16:49:00.000-08:00

#23 - Attend a live South American Football (Soccer) match......Check!

#18 - Dance with a Really cute Latino Girl.....Check!

#377 - Spend a night getting wasted in a Columbian Gay Bar getting hit on by Guys all night Because it is the only kicking discotheque open on a sunday night......check!

#52 - Emerge from the dark atmosphere of a South American Stip Club to the bright rays of the rising morning sun shining down upon my face......Check!

Land of the El Dorado

2005-12-02T16:47:00.000-08:00

Chapter three of my journey officially began the other day, as I departed from the land of Incas, landing in a place better known for its drug production, civil wars, and Guerilla insurgents. As I stepped off the plane in Columbia, I felt lost. Gone were the familiar sites of peruvian women dressed in traditional clothing and the Cold mountain air. I had no clue how much a Columbian Peso was worth, how much i was paying for a taxi, or where i was going. I couldn't find an enchalada or any anticoucho to eat. It was pissing down rain, i was hungover, running on one hour's sleep, and I just felt lost.

Its funny how so much can change in such a short plane ride. Not that columbia is really all that different from peru or bolivia relatively, but when you spend day in day out in a place you really begin to feel comfortable. You know what you're doing. You just 'feel' the country, for it has become your home. You know how much you should pay for things, you know what food you like... you're secure. You travel for twelve hours on a bus and one thing may change from one town to the next, but on the whole things remain essentially the same. Then you switch it up a bit and you have to re-learn ever little aspect of life.

Along with the confusion, however, comes a great deal of anticipation and excitement. Landing in the airport, going through customs, waiting for your bag...You just can't wait to get out on the streets. Its a feeling thats tough to describe. A part of you is nervous, landing in a city of 8 million people and third world chaos, where you can't communicate because you don't speak the language and you have no idea where you are going. At the same time however, you know there is a whole new country just waiting for you to explore. New people, new customs, new traditions, new history....its all there, waiting for you to get to know and love, or perhaps hate. Only time will tell.

So, I'm now presently hanging out in Bogota, the capital city of Columbia. Though the first part of my journey seemed to go on forever, the days are now rapidly beginning to fly by. I know that before I know it, I'll be back home in school dreaming up another scheme to escape reality and take off to a different corner of the globe. 25 days to acomplish all the paragliding, trekking, scuba diving, and lazing on the beach i plan to do is not nearly enough. Man, life just isn't fair.

Meet Buster

2005-11-29T16:33:00.000-08:00

Meet Buster, the friendliest street dog I have ever met. Despite the way he looks, he is not angry at all. He is just a poor, rural, Peruvian street dog who cannot afford an orthodontist to fix his underbite and crooked teeth. I just had to put this photo on my blog, cause he makes me burst out laughing every time i see him.

Drunken Chaos, Midday Fiesta, and Laser Tag!

2005-11-25T16:46:00.000-08:00

Went to laser tag hungover in Cochabamba. Two girls in the back we met the night before when we all got plastered with the intention of going to laser tag wasted. never actually made it, so went the next day just because I was in bolivia, and there was laser tag. Had to try it. Kid in the front middle was a street kid i picked up an treated to a free game.

Midday Fiesta getting half-cut on homemade corn beer in the rural Cochabamba countryside. Ah, nothing like drinking moonshine out of a bucket, made by old ladies chewing up corn, spitting it out, and letting it ferment. Mmmm, just waiting for pete the parasite to return after that one.

Our hour of binge drinking and doing shots before laser tag. ended up puking everywhere that night and was unable to walk to the bathroom. Damn, laser tag would have been fun in that state!

Ryan´s Travel tip of the Day:

2005-11-22T16:45:00.000-08:00

An empty bottled water container with the air squeezed slightly out of it makes a pretty decent pillow while sleeping off a hangover on a park bench.

A Bugs Life

2005-11-21T16:41:00.000-08:00

Discovered the macro mode on my camera the other day, which allows me to focus on objects at extremely close range. Took this photo in the rural bolivian countryside in an area recently burned by a fire. Life goes on.

Click on the photo to see the full size version.

So Many Miles to Paradise

2005-11-17T16:40:00.000-08:00

As of a few days ago, my travels had left me in the town of Villamontes, Bolivia. For the first time in a good couple of weeks, I finally had a hot shower. After spending the first month and a half of my trip high in the cold mountain elevations, this would seem to come as a blessing. The only problem with this shower however, was that the mercury outside had risen to over 45 degrees, and the last thing i wanted was heat. But of course, there was no cold water, and my only option of attempting to cool myself down was to bathe under the water that was only slightly cooler than the air, literally almost fighting fire with fire.

So, after only arriving early that morning, I decided that i was getting the hell out of town, and booked a train ticket for 7:30 that night. I´d had enough of the heat and it wasn´t even midday yet. I chilled out for a while in the local park, downed what was possibly the most refreshing beer I´ve ever had, and contemplated life for a while until it was time to head to the train station. The train, i thought, would be a nice alternative to the slow, crowded, bumpy bus rides I was becoming all to familiar with. I was wrong.

7pm. Hour Zero.
I arrive at the train station a half hour early to purchase my ticket for the 9 hour train ride north to the city of Santa Cruz. Once again, my useless Lonely planet book (I don´t know why the damn thing is so popular, its an incorrect piece of shit) was wrong, and the train ride was 11 hours, not 9. No big deal i thought, whats another 2 hours. I search around the train station to buy some food and water to take with me, but to my suprize there is nothing. No big deal i thought, people will sell me stuff on the train. I wait patiently, swatting away giant bugs and mosquitos, and gazing in amazement at the lightning show that is taking place above the nearby mountains.

8pm. Hour one.
The train still hasn´t come yet. Now a half hour late, my paranoid self begins to worry that the train isn´t coming, simply because there are hardly any other people around and I feel like i´m just hanging out in some abandoned train station. I wander off and pee on the train tracks, just because i can. While doing so, i hear a horn in the distance, and 15 minutes later, the train light appears in the distance as it slowly chugs its way along into the station. I board the train to find that my seat sucks. most of the seats have some sort of window access, but mine: wall. window beside the seat in front of me, window beside the seat behind me, but no window beside me. This really wouldn´t be that much of a problem normally, but remember, its fucking hot and i have no water to compensate for the liters of sweat that are leaking out of me every hour! I spend a good 2 minutes cleaning off my seat which is covered in dust, dirt, and sand, and i can´t figure out why. I sit down to find out that the seat is horribly uncomfortable, and prepare myself for a long 11 hour journey.

9pm. Hour two.
I´ve by now realized why my seat was so covered in shit. Because of the desert like landscape, and the fact that the window in front of me is wide open, all the dust and debris that the train engine stirs up seems to perfectly time itslef to fly in through the window and land on me. Even though its dark, i have to put on my sunglasses to stop myself from becoming blind. The guy in the seat in front of me tries to recline his seat but i take a stand. I´m tired of being treated as a stupid gringo, and figure since a lot of people are pricks to me, i´m gonna fight back. No more nice guy from canada. Give the guy credit, he kept trying to push his seat back, but every time he met my knee. I wasn´t budging.

10pm. Hour three.
buddy is still trying to recline his seat and keeps turing around to give me evil death stares. I play either dumb, pretending to stare out what would be a window if i had a normal seat, or I point at my legs to show that i can´t move them. Bolivia is not made for people taller than 5ft. If i sat up, i could accomodate his desire to recline, but i don´t feel like trying to sleep in an upright position. he can go to hell. I´m also starting to get hungry and am really thirsty. where are the annoying people that always seem to board busses and trains and sell you shit now? They never come. I guess they just don´t work this route. sometimes i think the world is out to spite me. 9 more hours to go.

11pm. Hour four.
I have a deep moment of reflection. Why am I here? What am i doing? I ponder this thought for almost an hour, attempting to answer the question to my own satisfaction. This desire in me to travel the world has lead me to some amazing places, and at other times, placed me in situations such as this. I manage to lift myself mentally out of the shitty train ride, and for a while, into a state of deep thought. I satisfy myself knowing that all the pain is worth it.

I think i might sidetrack a little bit here.

The more shit I see, the more I realize that there is an uncomprehendable amount of shit to see in the world. I spend so many long nights on busses, gazing out the window and thinking of plans of how i can see it all before my life is over. I know i can´t, but i can damnwell try. I become slightly angry at the fact that i can´t seem to motivate the majority of my friends to do what i´m doing, mostly for my own selfish reasons. I constantly meet groups of people who are travelling with their best friends, and i can´t help but think how much more fun this would be if i was in the company of my best friends, the ones who get my stupid humor, who could defend canada with me to loudmouth americans, and who could reminiss with me years down the road when all this travelling is but a distant memory to me.

That moment passes and I switch back to myself, and devise a plan to live nomadically for the rest of my life. I wonder how anyone can believe the fact that we´re just supposed to spend our entire lives working 9-5, always looking forward to the weekend, or our 3 weeks holidays, or our retirement. Before long, the monotonous weeks are going to turn into months and years that fly by before we finally come to realize that its time to retire, but we´re to old to do what i´m doing now. So I convince myself that I won´t let that happen, that I will never fall into that mold. But then I realize that at some point i want a family, and a place to call home, and I wonder how i´m going to make the two worlds possible. what the hell am i to do? I realistically can´t spend my life roaming around the world alone, sleeping in shit hostels and eating parasite contaminated food. But I´m determined not to live my life looking forward to the future as i believe so many people do. the train ride is begining to become tolarable, based on the fact that i am so glad i´m doing what i want now while i´m young and I will never be able to regret anything years down the road. Then asshole tries to recine his seat. again.

12am. Hour five.
My deep thoughts on life lead me into a light sleep, and I begin dreaming thoughts that are no longer within my control. Whatever i was dreaming about, it came to an end as the train came to a screaching halt. In the middle of absolutely nowhere, were three extra oil tanker cars, and apparently we were picking them up. So, we proceded to go back and forth allong the switchyard, slamming into the cars and re-aranging the order of the train´s contents. So much for sleep. I brush off the thin layer of dust that has accumulated all over my body, and think about how surely this delay was going to set us back timewise.

1am. Hour six.
Still playing with the order of the train. Ryan´s really getting frustrated now. There´s something about transport down here that gets under my skin when we´re not going anywhere. It doesn´t matter if the vehicle is moving 5kms/hr, at least its getting closer to the destination. But when we spend an hour and a half going nowhere, it really makes me mad. My clausterphobia was getting bad, and i began to consider the consequences of getting off the train and sleeping on the grass. naturally common sense kicked in and i thought that idea might not be so wise. Sometime after, we finally get moving, three cars heavier and consequently moving even slower. 6 more hours to go.

2am. Hour seven.
we come to a stop at some train station and the couple sitting in the seats in front of me leave the train. Instantly i get up and move my shit to their seats, so excited at the idea of having a seat with a window. I´m not even sitting there 2 minutes when two people board the train and claim that i´m in their seats. Before, Ryan would have given up the seats and returned to his seat beside the wall, but at this point, i wasn´t moving. Remember, Ryan doesn´t care about being curtious anymore. They yelled at me, i spoke a bunch of english saying i wanted the window, and eventually, they gave up. victory was mine. Calmed by the gentil breeze and two seats to myself, i was able to strech out and relax, and i finally drifted into another light sleep.

3am. Hour eight.
dreaming of rainbows and butterflies.

4am. Hour nine.
wake up briefly to change positions and gain feeing again in my legs that have fallen completely asleep and left me paralized from the waist down. Clean the dust off my arm, eat the one chocolate bar I was saving until absolutely necessary, and fall back asleep.

5am. Hour ten
Dreaming of Hockey and Froot Loops

6am. Hour eleven.
Its now eleven hours since I arrived at the train station, expecting a 9 hour journey. The sun has risen up against the prarie horizon, and the mountainous terrain i have become so accustomed to is long gone. I am excited at the prospect of arriving soon, as even with the late departure and delay picking up the extra cars, we should still be arriving within an hour or so. my stumach has begun to digest its lining, and my mouth is lacking any moisture whatsoever. The train passes by a few pastures of cows grazing and i come to a conclusion. At any given time in a pasture of 20 cows or more, its guaranteed that at least one of them is shitting. Check it out sometime for yourselves.

7am. Hour twelve.
we should be arriving by now, but all i see for miles and miles is nothing. I´m so hungry i contemplate eating the scraps of food i see on the floor of the train, but i´m not letting ´pete´ back into my body. with the daylight present, i decide to pull out the book i am reading, ´the Motorcycle Diaries´. Apperently this is quite well known, especially the movie, but i knew nothing about this. Esentially, its a journal written by a young Ché Guevara during his yearlong trip around south america, before he helped castro overthrow Cuba. I can´t help but notice a striking similarity and relation to myself in his writings and adventures, and wonder if i too am destined for greatness. Just a thought.

8am. Hour thirteen.
I must have missed the station in Santa Cruz and am now on my way to brazil. I struggle with this thought for quite some time, reasuring myself only by the fact that the rising sun is still on the right side of the train, meaning I am heading north (after Santa Cruz the train heads east). But the paraoid part of me still stews over this for quite some time and i begin getting wrestless. I can only sit for so long before i start to pluug out and a weird feeling just eats at me from the inside. I seriously contemplate throuwing myself and my bags out the window of the train and dealing with the consequences later. Ché would have done it. Perhaps I´m not quite as cool as Ché as i thought.

9am. Hour fourteen.
Oh good God are we still not there yet? I ask the guy beside me how long till santa cruz, almost hoping he tells me we passed it so i have an excuse to jump out the window. he says about one hour more. I don´t know if that was good news or bad, but i took it with the realization that i just needed to calm down and be patient. Us whities are always in a hurry and the locals don´t get why we can´t just chill out. My stumach acids have burned a tunnel through my intestines and have now peirced through the surface of my hip.

10am. Hour fifteen.
my anxiousness and stress become reduced when i once again enter a state of deep thought and reflection as we pass some rural villages on the outskirts of Santa Cruz.

I think another tangent is coming.

There´s something I´ve almost written about a few times on this trip but never found the right context in which to place it. Not that it really fits in anywhere but its something i think about a lot and I wanna write it down. Since I don´t keep a journal, this is my only means of remembering my thoughts, and well, my life is an open book so you can contemplate it too.

I suppose its kind of cliche and rhetorical, but it becomes real when you see it on a regular basis. Poverty. A big part of me feels guilty being down here, both because i have the opportunity to be and because of the circumstances with which i am. I´m on a trip funded mainly by our canadian government, and the unemployment insurance system we have in place to protect our citizens when they can´t work. Not that I don´t feel I deserve it because of the ordeal i went through in Thailand, but there are millions of people down here who suffer through much worse and don´t get a penny for it. Miners in Potosi that knowingly work in conditions that will end their career in ten years, shortly before they die of siicosis. They do so because they have no other option, and they need to feed their families; Families that are left with nothing when they die before the age of 40. Something is wrong with that.

I am constantly reminded of my thoughts as a child, when nothing was ever good enough for me. I remember Christmas as always being a competition with other kids, comparing the dollar value of what i recieved with my other friends. I always felt like i didn´t get enough, that other kids got more and that wasn´t fair. Not fair. That´s what i thought it was. Flashforward 10 years and I find myself sitting on a curb in peru, playing with a little child at midnight. Her mother is 20 feet away, selling a few goods on a blanket on the sidewalk trying to make enough to get by. The child is maybe two years of age, dressed in rags, covered in dirt, and playing with 4 plastic cups. plastic cups. As i stack them on top of each other she thinks its the most fascinating thing in the world, and laughs histerically when she knocks the pile over, as if this idea of stacking the cups has made them a completely new toy. I can´t help but feel ashamed at how greedy i was as a child.

But its not my fault. That is the society I was raised in. How was i to know what existed elsewhere on the planet. Sure we all hear of poverty, but as far as we´re all concerned, it doesn´t really exist. Down here, where i see it everyday, I can´t help but constantly struggle with the question of why. Why wasn´t I born into a bolivian family where i´m forced to shine shoes at the age of 6 when i should be off playing and being a kid?. Why don´t i spend my entire life sitting on a street corner selling bottled water and snacks? We´re too lucky back home, and I don´t think we realize it.

In the affluent western world, even the most incompetent indiot can make it through life relatively easy. If you happen to fall through the cracks, we have welfare systems and others to take care of you. We have no idea how easy we have it. Down here, you have nothing. Its different from asia too. In asia, even the poor people seemed to have a lust for life, and always seemed happy. Here, I don´t sense that. People seem sad, depresed and just generally very unsatisfied with their lives. I think that´s what is getting to me. I wanna help but i feel like there is just nothing i can do. I feel like i don´t deserve everything i´ve had handed to me in life and its just not fair. I keep using the word ´fair´ but its the only word that comes to mind. the fact that our affluence in the western world cannot exist without this kind of system in the third world just makes my guilt worse, and i struggle with what I´m supposed to do to make the guilt go away. I don´t think it ever will. Its ironic the amount of bitching i do about the ´rough times´ i have down here travelling and such, but in reality, its nothing compared to what these people go through on a day to day basis their entire life.

11am. hour sixteen.
The train has finally come upon the outskirts of santa cruz, and I am so excited that the trip is almost over. We pass by a lot of oil refineries, symbolic of the source of all the conflicts and problems in bolivia recently. After another half hour of chuggin along though the city, we finally reach the train station.

11:30am. Hour sixteen and a half.
time to get ripped off by a cab driver, get some food, some water, and some fucking sleep.

Time to Kill

2005-11-11T16:39:00.000-08:00

Once again, the Bolivian Transportation System is doing its best to test my patience. So, With 10 hours to kill in a dusty haphazard shithole on the Bolivia/Argentina Border, I have nothing else to do but pass the time doing what I do best: Writing about nothing.

I´m here strattling the border because the idiots at Bolivian Immigration only give tourists from Canada 30 days in the country. Peru gives 90, Argentina gives 90, but the country Ryan actually wants to spend more than a month in: 30 days. Israilies get 60, but for some reason Canada isn´t quite so welcome. So, despite the fact that I like their country and want to spend a shitload of money within their borders, they make me go through a hell of an ordeal to cross the border and back. Completely useless if you ask me, since they have no problems letting me leave the country, spend a night 100 meters away, and then welcome me back in. So that´s exactly what i did, and now, thanks to my useless Lonely planet guidebook that lied to me telling me there was a morning bus to my next destination, i have 10 hours to kill untill my bus leaves. Thanks LP.

So while I´m here, I might as while write a bit more about what´s been going on lately down here in the southern hemosphere. As I hinted at in my last posting, my 4 day trip around southwestern bolivia was absolutely amazing. I really seriously can´t put it into words. The Five photos here in order of appearance are: Pink Flamingos chilling in a Laguna, The sun rising over the fire red Laguna Colorada, the famous wind eroded Rock Tree,
The hotel made almost entirely out of salt that I spent a night in, and finally me inhaling a bunch of sulphur spewing out of one of the many geysers that dot the landscape.

The Salar de Uyuni itself was absolutely surreal, surpassing the former most surreal landcapes I had ever seen of Mount Bromo and Mount Rinjani in Indonesia. In between running and jumping around like an idiot trying to capture amazing photos, I just stared in amazement at the image of flat, baron expanses of salt for as far as the eye could see. Bolivia is really something. Many of you know how much I really love indonesia and plan on going back there one day, but bolivia is rapidly becoming competition for that Asian Archepelago.

By the way, as you may notice in my profile picture, the dreads are gone. I put up with them long enough to almost make the 10 hours of tourture getting them done worth it. In the end, I realized that dreadlocks are really overrated, and not worth the hype. After the mine tour in Potosi, they were pretty discusting from all the shit in the air, and i had time to kill there waiting for a bus so they met their demise.

One thing I´ve realized since having the hair cut off: I´m a sexy son of a bitch! If only I could speak spanish, then I´d have the ladies all over me.

Words can´t describe

2005-11-10T16:38:00.000-08:00

Wow. I know in the past i´ve used the phrase ¨words can´t describe¨ when attempting to explain certain experiences I have enjoyed. But the last 4 days have been something else. I really don´t know how to sum up 4 days of the most surreal landscapes and natural phenomenons I have ever experienced. I wanna start typing about it but I know I´ll just go on forever and I got a bus to catch in an hour.

Basically, I drove around southern Bolivia for the past 4 days in a jeep with 6 other people sleeping in hotels made of salt, eating llama, having hot sulpheric gas from geysers blown in my face, observing thousands of pink flamingos chilling in red, green, blue, lakes, climbing windblown rock sculptures, driving around insane volcanic and desert landscapes, and the highlight of all: staring in awe at the Salar de Uyuni. The worlds largest salt flats, the Salar is a baron expanse of flat, gleeming white salt for as far as the eye can see. Surrounded by volcanoes in some directions, and cactus filled islands in others, It is by far the most surreal landscape I have ever seen. It did not dissapoint me as being the most anticipated destination of my whole trip.

So, thats all I´m going to say. I took over 400 photos on the trip, and still didn´t get everything cause i just got sick of taking photos and wanted to enjoy the experience. Everyone will Just have to wait till i get back to hear all about it and see all the photos. If i find a decent internet connection (not very likely), I´ll try and post some more photos.

For now, I´m off to the Argentina Border to cross for a day and renew my Bolivian Visa. There is just too much to see in this country and i need more time to see it all.

To the Dark Depths of Hell

2005-11-03T16:37:00.000-08:00

Went to hell today. Litterally, if you go by the Bolivian legends that describe the mountain of metal that has been steadly and productivly mined for over 400 years. Though it was no walk in the park tour, it was definitly an amazing experience. Kms deep into the mountain, with temperatures reaching upwards of 45 degrees, one meter high ceilings in parts, 4400 meter elevation, complete darkness, and toxic chemicals such as silica dust, arsenic gas, acetylene vapours, and asbestos. Not to brag, but i was the only one out of 12 people who was adventurous (or stupid) enough to descend down 20 meter holes into clausterphbic abysses and see the miners workplaces deep within the laberinths of tunnels. With nothing more than a knotted rope to hold on to and a few sketchy rocks to place my feet, I couldn't help but observe how once again I'd put myself in a possibly fatal situation (sorry mom). What I gained from the experience was a shitload of respect for the miners who work in such horrid conditions. An average career span lasts 10 years before miners begin to suffer fatal deseases from years of working in such toxic conditions in a manner that should have phased out with the middle ages. I may write more on the mine later when i get around to posting some pictures, but for now i'm going to rest up for another tourturous busride tomorrow. Only a few days till I reach my most anticipated destination of my whole trip: The Salar de Uyuni.

Update:

2005-11-02T16:37:00.000-08:00

I hinted in my last posting about how we got conned by an ex-inmate and failed to get inside San Pedro Prison in La Paz. Well, it turns out that the American fellow I was scheming with to get into the prison happened to run into the ex-inmate who conned us. Turns out Mikey, as we call him, made a legitimate effort to get us inside the prison. When that attempt failed, he split with the money we gave him and blew it all on a hotel, a hooker, and a bottle of booze. At least he spent it well.

As for me, I have finally left La Paz and am chilling out in Potosi, the highest city in the world at 4090 meters above sea level. Tomorrow I'm going down into the depths of hell. I'll post more on that when I get back.

Life on the Road: Reflections on La Paz

2005-10-31T16:32:00.000-08:00

Shit in a cup again today.

Life on the road has become a little more stationary in the past few weeks. There is no rooster waking me up up at 4am, but my little friend ´pete the parasite´ has taken over in its place. However, sometimes even the ´shittiest´ of situations can turn out to be ok in the long run. Being stuck here over the past ten days, the City of La Paz has grown on me. Though I only planned on staying here a couple days, my problems down below have forced me to stay put for much longer than initially intended. What i´ve come to realize is that La Paz is a very dynamic place, probably one of my favorite cities i have ever stepped foot in. About the size of Vancouver, it lacks the excess pollution, traffic, and poverty of most third world megacities. While it does posess some these negative qualities, the positives combine to far outweigh the downsides. The entire city is essentially one giant street market. I´ve spent days just wandering around the streets in amazement of the sheer complexity and size of the informal economy, and the fact that you can buy anything your heart desires without stepping foot inside an actual store. We don´t need Wal-mart. The people here in Boliva are something to admire, not taking shit from anybody. A country that has been through 190 governments in 160 years, they stand up and do something about it when they get fucked around. While this can lead to zero progress in many cases, I can´t help but think how we in Canada could learn a lesson or two from them about standing up to our government.

I decided to take some spanish lessons while here, which gave me a chance to slow my pace down for a while and get into a routine. Though it only lasted 5 days, I came to enjoy my routine half hour walk to school each day, taking a different route each time and stumbling upon some of the treasures La Paz has to offer. Whether it was sampling different types of street food for breakfast each day, buying usless shit like kareokee DVDs, or testing my luck on the public transportation system, every day was a new adventure. There´s just something about this place that seems real, so much more so than back home. I can´t figure out what it is, but its here.

The unnamed few of you who made my short list to recieve a dried Llama fetus in the mail can be thankful that the Canadian embassy informed me that Customs Canada would not let such an item accross the border. Damn.

Only in La Paz can you spend an entire day trying to get into a state prison. Though unsuccessful, we did learn a lot about life behind the walls of one of the most entriguing prisons existing. Essentially a Co-op, the inmates have to earn their own way inside the prison without any state funding or they simply starve. Entire families live behind the walls with their convicted relatives, paying their own way for food and accomodation. If you can afford it, you can live in luxury, and if not, you battle it out in the basement for whatever you can get. Tourists used to be allowed in the prison to observe it first hand, but are no longer allowed due to legal dispositions. The word on the street however, suggests that it is still possible to bribe your way in. we came close many times, but ended up getting conned by an ex inmate, and threatened at gunpoint to leave the premesis. Nuts.

So, as I await my second fecal results, which will determine whether or not ´pete´ is dead, I will enjoy my last few moments in this city before taking off tonight to southern boliva. though my time here has been good, spending 12 days out of a 30 day visa in one place really limits one´s ability to see the rest of the country.

So, ciao from La Paz

I got worms

2005-10-24T16:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I took a shit in a cup.

let me explain. So the posting a little while ago about life on the road was made up entirely of true events that have happened to me so far on this trip, all compiled into one complete, entertaining story. The part about the bad chicken happened to be the most recent, and has since morphed into something a little more irritating than a couple bad shits. Worms. Parasites. Bacteria. You name it, I got it. The little buggers have been causeing me a lot of grief and pain the last few days, so i finally decided to go get checked out by a doctor. To my suprise, i have more bacteria in me than they could identify, and i specific parasite that i have yet to ´google´and find out more about. So, a shitload of medication, a shot in the ass, and a fun adventure giving a stool sample later, i have about a week to chill out here in La Paz, Bolivia and recouperate. I appologize for the graphic details as to my bowel movements as of late, but since this blog is intended to keep everyone up to date on my travels, its only fitting. It has been, after all, the focus of much of my time the past little while. I hope you all enjoy reading about this as much as I enjoy experiencing it first hand.

Life on the Road: An average day in Peru

2005-10-21T16:28:00.000-07:00

4am. The roosters begin their wake up call. You try and go back to sleep, but it´s no use. You´re in the Andes and the temperature in your room is barely above freezing. You curl up in a ball, attempting to maximixe any degree of warmth remaining in your sleeping bag. You manage to fall asleep for another couple of hours, but only untill the thunderous noises of god knows what begin rattling your hotel walls. You´ve managed to retain enough heat in your bed to stop the shivering, but the bowels begin to move and you need to get up. You climb out of bad, throw on your flip flops, and dart your way to the bathroom. You realize that you have no more toilet paper because you used it all on the 3 shits the night before. Must have been that chicken you ate for lunch yesterday that cost you 30 cents. You quickly get dressed and dash out to the street to buy some TP from a local street vendor. You ask how much in your broken Spanglish and she tells you double what you know it´s worth. Obviously judging by your state of panic, she she knows she can get away with it. You pay your 1.50 soles and rush back into your hotel. You enter your bathroom that smells exactly the same as the sewer 15 feet below. As your ass touches the rim of the bowl, you swear that someone just shoved icicles in your ass. As you sit there, you rack your brain trying to think where the toilet seat could have gone. It´s been three weeks now in Peru and you´ve noticed that 95% of the toilets are seatless. Where do they go? Were they always missing? Were the toilets sold seatless? Is there a big profit to be made from seats on the black market? After a few minutes of contemplating this issue, your focus switches to the numbing in your ass. You finish your business, and scurry back to bed to attempt to get a few more hours of sleep to help the hangover wear off. Last night was a gong show. You got smashed on free liquor, swear you got drugged, and passed out on a sofa in a discotheque. Luckily an english guy was there to watch your back, but you lost your bandana and that really pisses you off. Anyway, you get your couple hours of sleep, and then get up to go get your free breakfast from the hostel restaurant. It is then time to risk electrocution in a shower that heats itself by means of shotty wiring and duct taped electrical cords. it doesn´t really matter though cause the heat doesn´t work and the shower is as cold as the toilet seat. as you dry yourself off and almost stop your teeth from chattering, its time to smell-test your clothes. you haven´t done laundry in a while, so its time to search for the lesser of the evils. You decide that wearing your boxers inside out is the best option, and your best shirt, well, who cares, you´re in peru. You´re pants have melted chocolate in your pockets from the candy bars you forgot about the other day as you sunbathed on the roof of a boat. meh. As you eat your breakfast, you spend 20 minutes practicing a phrase in spanish to recite to the hotel guy. You want to ask him if you can check out and leave your bags there for the day. Today is a travel day. You´ve seen all you wish to see in this town, and its time to move on to the next tonight. You´re 100% confident that you have memorized the 3 sentences you need, and go for it. You suck at spanish. Your phrases come out in a sort of half assed spanglish mix mash, and somehow you substitued the word backpack for chicken. The hotel guy rambles off a bunch of spanish to you, none of which makes any sense to you. A little bit of sign language and moving around like a moron later, you get the point across and set out for the day to kill time until your bus leaves that night. But you need a ticket first. You´re too lazy to walk all the way down to the bus terminal like you usually do where you know you can get the best price. The chicken from the day before is still taking its toll on your body, and your back is fucked up from your river rafting expodition the day before. You go to a package tour offfice and decide to treat yourself to a nice luxurious bus for your 13 hour ride that night. You knowingly pay more than you know you should, but you´ll thank yourself that night. From there, its off to wander around the markets for the day, resisting to buy huge quantities of useless shit just because its cheep. Need a llama fetus to ward off bad spirits? no problem. You kill time there for a while, maybe check out an old cathedral or something, and then decide you want some more food because the free breakfast wasn´t exactly all it was cracked up to be. Should you go with the tried and tested ¨carne¨ burger from a street vendor again? 30 cents for a ¨meat¨ burger. Yes, you´ve come to love that mystery meat burger. But today you crave change. You wander out of the touist district and find yourself a little local establishment. the special today: pork. You order the deep fried pork and corn, and then wander into the back to use the bathroom. Damn yesterday´s chicken. Along the way you see something you wish you didn´t. There really is no good way to accept the fact that the dismembered pig carcass lying our in the sun and butchered to hell is gonna be your lunch. You use the bathroom, squating indonesia style on the rim of the toilet cause there´s no way you are letting your ass touch this rim. damn that chicken. You go back and eat your meal, which tastes suprisingly good. You then decide to hit up an internet place and check your blog to see how many people responded to your story about the scariest trek of your life. To your suprize, a whopping 6 people cared enough to respond to the fact that you almost died. You then wonder if anyone even reads the blog at all because they are to lazy to click on a link. From here you kill a few more hours wandering around seeing the sites, bump into a few dozen Israilies throughout the day cause there´s 30,000 of them in peru. Eventually its time to make your way down to the bus terminal and get on that nice comfy first class bus you booked. Yeah right. In reality, you board the ´rust-o-matic express´ and curse yourself for getting scammed at the ticket office. You go to you assigned seat, only to find that its broken and doesn´t recline. its ok though, cause the seat in front of you evens everything out, reclining further than any other seat on the bus. As you remove your knees from your abdomen, you let out a few expletives. Could this bus ride get any worse? of course. tonight´s on board entertainment: One cheezy latin music CD played on repeat over and over again for 13 hours throught the night. its not too bad though, cause sometimes its hard to hear the music over the guy next to you snoring (his seat reclines). You try and sleep through the potholes, horn honks, swearving, snoring, and music, but its no use. Halfway through the ride that chicken peaks its little head again, and you need to go to the bathroom. Quick. What, the bathroom is broken? cool. you pinch it for another 7 hours, something you´ve gotten good at on the road. Eventually you get to your destination and the floodgates open at the bus terminal Baño. You haggle with toot after toot at the bus station before finally just agreeig to go to one of their hotels cause you feel like shit and haven´t slept all night. The hotel is a shithole but you don´t care. You take the room, roll out your sleeping bag, and curl up in a ball in an attempt to get warm. the cycle continues again.

So Ryan, you ask, What the hell are you doing in Peru? That sounds like absolute hell. Well, Its not. You see, there´s just something about being on the road that i find really hard to explain. Every shitty thing that happens somehow adds to the experience and i wouldn´t have it any other way. Living off a budget of like $20 a day, seeing awesome scenery, meeting amazing people, going on crazy treks, and just plain living life has a magical feeling to it. Something that you can never understand unless you get your ass down here.

What did YOU do yesterday?

2005-10-17T16:27:00.000-07:00

So I just got back from a three day rafting adventure in the Andes Mountains. The river was nuts, and as cool as the photos look, they don´t do justice as to how insane it was. Definitely worth the money, and though i could have died in parts if I fell out or we flipped, i was willing to take that chance. These are some of the best photos, and you can find me by the sunglasses in the front right position, or the dumb air guitar poses. As i was floating down the river in a calm part after being thrown out of the raft by my loco guide, i couldn´t help but think that I am a lucky son of a bitch. I don´t think the adventure could have been any more fun.

A slight case of bed head

2005-10-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

So yeah, Dreadlocks are overrated. If i was a CIA agent held capture and being tortured by means of dreadlocks, i would have confessed everything i knew after the 5th dread. No joke, this was by far the most painful experience of my life. 10 hours of having my hair pulled and yanked on, all for a hairstyle that isn´t even low maintenence. I thought they´d be all easy to maintain and take no work at all. But no, its tough work looking like a hippie who doesn´t give a rats ass what his hair looks like. they tangle together, they flatten out, they come undone, and they itch like hell. I think i might have fleas. So yeah, they do look really cool, but we´ll just see how long my patience holds up.

Cheating Death.....again

2005-10-08T16:04:00.000-07:00

The point of no return is long gone. Five hundred meters above the river below, I cling to the cliff face, struggling to find stable ground to position my feet. The rock I am holding comes loose, shattering any sense of confidence I have in preventing my own death. As the loose sand and ash beneath me begins to give way, my feet begin to slide, faster and faster towards impending doom. I have no choice but to begin leaping, one foot after another across the collapsing mountainside, with no time to stop and consider the consequence of each individual step. I come to a stop on a patch of semi-solid ground, frozen in fear, cursing myself for coming this far. Why have I resisted the voice inside my head telling me this is a bad idea? Above and below me I can see and hear the sounds of small stones and soil tumbling down the mountainside. My limbs begin to shake, trembling with a fear I have never once experienced in my entire life. The only thing between me and death is a one foot wide path, covered with sand and ash, sloping on a 45 degree angle towards the valley, collapsing under its own weight. The forest fire that swept up the slope only days before, and the resulting vegetation loss has led to a fragile mountainside of crumbling rocks and dirt. The 900 year old Inca support walls made of stacked rocks have been rendered completely inept, and are no longer capable of supporting the excess weight. I have no choice but to continue on, step by step, praying I don´t become food for the Condors deep below.

To understand how I got myself in this situation, I have to go back a few days. I was close to the Bolivian Border, about to cross, when i decided to do a bit of backtracking. Originally, I was going to skip the city of Cuzco, out of pure spite for the thousands of package tourists that have taken it over. The reason for all the tourists: Maccu Piccu, the lost city of the Incas. At the last moment, I decided that I would regret being so close and not experiencing Maccu Piccu, so off I went, minus a couple of american hillbillies. I got to Cuzco, booked a four day excursion to the lost city, and took off the next morning on an adventure I´ll never forget. four days of the funnest/craziest/scariest/terrifying/exhausting/gratifying time of my life. A motto I´ve learned down here: you get what you pay for.
So the cheapest way to maccu piccu begins like this. I never planned ahead and booked a spot on the actual Inca trail, so I had to take a different route. Day one started off with a 4 hour bus ride high up into the Andes Mountains. After getting off the bus in the middle of nowhere, I, along with a couple english guys, began our five hour descent on mountain bikes. Five hours of downhill, dirt road, white knuckle, rez-dog speed mountain biking. Around corners, dodging oncoming traffic, through puddles and swerving to avoid goats and chickens. This ride had it all - probably one of the funnest experiences of my life. I thought the bumpy ride would help my non-existent bowel movements, but it didn´t.
Day two: Not so fun. 12 straight hours of trekking. Uphill, downhill, Uphill, downhill. Apparently, the incas never heard of just building a flat path. I swear, they were just plain masochistic. By far the most exhausting experience of my life. Oh yeah, and I almost died to, which kinda left me in a bad mood. Basically, as described above, a forest fire swept across the mountainside days before I got there. The nice lade who fed us bananas in the middle of the jungle warned us that the path ahead was not safe, and that the day before a goup of trekkers turned around and came back because the path was not passable. But our guide ignored the warning and lead us into a death trap. The fire killed all the vegetation, which caused the dirt and rocks to all slowly, over the course of a couple days, fall down the slope and settle on the path. this left the path incredibly dangerous, and not safe to pass by any means. I´m all for adventure stuff, and don´t get scared easily, but this was different. My life was not in my hands. All the dirt, sand, and ash had covered the entire path in many parts, leaving nothing but a 45 degree angle of loose scree sloping down off the cliff. the stones stacked to support the trail could not handle the excess weight, and were slowly giving out. there was no solid ground to walk on, every step i took slid off toward the cliff. I couldn´t hang on to the cliff face with any strength because it would give way in my hand and just make things worse. in some parts, there simply was no path. I had to hang on to watever i could with my hands and do leaps of faith to the next point of solid ground. And i´ll just throw in in here that there was nothing beneath me but a long, long way down. What scared me about this was that i had no control over my own fate. I can handle balancing on a narrow path high in the air when i have control, but this was bad. the ground was giving way at my feet and one unlucky step and lights out. I´m mad at myself for even attempting the path and not turning around, against the wishes of the guide who wanted to keep going. The two english guys were yelling at the guide for getting us into this mess, and were just as terrified as me. At one point, i litterally began sliding off the cliff, and had it not been for the guide reaching out his hand, i probably would not have stopped sliding. I´m getting chills just writing this, and i only hope i get the image accross just how crazy this was.
so yeah, after almost falling to my death, the trek continued. up, down, up, down. Burn the thighs, kill the knees, burn the thighs, kill the knees. I drank 4 litres of water that day and took one ten second piss, thats how much i sweat. By the end of the 12 hour jouney my body shut down. I had absolutely nothing left.

and now, a poem.

Useless
By Ryan Harrington

I am Useless
I have no purpose on this planet.
I am born, and then I die
There are trillions of us on this planet
all with the same goal:
To piss off as many humans as we can
Hovering, landing, sucking.
I have no purpose
I have no purpose
I have no purpose
I am a Mosquito
and I am uselss

Day three began at 4am when the roosters began waking up the neighborhood. Almost as useless as mosquitos, but at least we can eat them. only 6 hours of trekking that day, but given the previous day´s events, i could hardly move. But really, not an eventful day, just a bunch of trekking through the jungle. I still haven´t shit in three days at this point.

Day 4, things finally pay off. Beginning at 5 am, we begin the one our climb to Maccu Piccu, the famous lost city of the incas, hidden deep in the jungle. Not far enough away however, for the shitloads of package toursists who bus in somehow, making my death-taunting excursion seem somewhat all for nothing. But despite the three thousand other tourists, the rain, the fog, and the exhaustion, absolutely nothing could take away from the mystical sight of Maccu Piccu. I placed my hands on the positive energy rock, and climbed to the top of wiannu piccu, the high mountain peak overlooking the city. then i hiked down and up the other side to the sun gate. then i just spent hours exploring the city, marvelling in sheer amazement at the monumental task that would have been creating the city. Words simply can´t explain it.

So now I am back in Cuzco, trying to find a spanish language center where i can spend a week learning a bit of spanish so i can pick up the ladies. Its pissing out rain right now, which has given me plenty of time to compose this story and create a new blog. Words of advice: When all the text on the computer is in spanish and you are trying to change settings on your blog, be carefull. You might just delete the whole thing.

Adios amigos

Fun while it lasted

2005-01-15T16:01:00.000-08:00

Hey kids

Sometimes in life, shit just happens. And when it does, it may be tough to deal with, especially when it comes in the form of a thai taxi driver cutting your dream vacation short by three months. But through all this, I've come to realize a lot of things, and over the past couple weeks i've had a lot of time for it to sink in and accept it. My Trip is done....for now.

So unfortunately, this will be my final mass email for I have nothing more to brag about. I finalyl left ko phangan a couple days ago after 3 weeks of doing nothing all day long and endured one hell of a difficult journey to bangkok to get checked out by a decent doctor. The news wasn't good, and it turns out that my injuries were more severe than i thought. My knee should have been imobilized from the start and kept in a brace, but i've been using it as my good leg for crutches all a long, which may have done permanent damage to it. the wound on my foot, is still huge and open after almost three weeks, and the doctor recomended that i have a skin graft done. The orthopedic doctor told me that i should be shifting all my weight off my left leg and knee and onto my right foot, which is impossible considering that i can still hardly put weight onto it because of the sprain.

After the accident happened, I had a lot of people, especially my parents, telling me that I should come home. This was absolutely out of the question at the time, and i was determined that i was going to stick it out, and keep on going. I knew all a long in the back of my mind that coming home would be the best thing to do, but there was no way i was going to let that happen. My parents even tried to lure me back by offering to pay my airfare for me to go again any time it wanted. I told them there was no way i could accept that, and figured that even if i was out of commision for a month, i'd still have another two good ones after. Things changed though when i got to bangkok and became aware that i was risking my future health and propper healling process by staying there. It was going to be another 4 weeks untill i'd be able to use my knee again, and without a skin graft on my foot, i was risking infection and it would take a long time to close up. I'd also have to find nursing clinics every day to get it cleaned up.

After almost 3 weeks of doing nothing all day and spending a lot of money immobile and doing nothing, i began to do a lot of thinking. I began to question how worthwile it was to stay, and I finally began to consider coming home. Even after i toughed it out for another 4 weeks and if my injuries healed up fine, i still wouldn't have been able to do lots of trekking or diving, or been fully agile enough to do all the things i wanted to do. The cost and time lost in the healing process would have been a complete waste, in addition to the three weeks i had allready spent sitting in a hammock and watching movies all day. I didn't want to be stupid and risk future problems with my legs because i was too stuborn to come home, especially when i had such a generous offer from my parents.

So this is why I'm writing this email from my parents house in Squamish where i am freezing my fucking ass off! Does anyone else realize how cold it is in this country? My trip seems like a big dream, and it feels really weird to be home. Its a bummer that it had to end this way, but i had a real eye opener on the flight home. The guy beside me was in an accident 30 years ago when he got run over by a train. He lost both his feet in the accident and now has stubs at his shins and prosthetic feet. Here i am bummed out cause i had an accident that ruined a holiday, and this guy is living with a far greater handicap than me and going about his daily life with a better attitude than me. Its funny how things work out like that, and it really puts into perspective just how stupid it is of me if i let this get me down. My injuries will heal, the remaing funds from my trip are going into the bank, and the generous offer from my parents still stands. So really, my vacation is not finished, simply postponed. I will be back, its just a matter of when i decide to go.

So i'm back now and can be reached at my parents house (604-892-2354) if anyone wants to call me or come on by and visit the cripple. I don't know when i'll make it down to vancouver or victoria though, I'll prolly stay here in squamish for a while. So no more photos or email updates to share, just my ugly face limping around this freezing country to annoy you all 1 by 1.

Litterally "chillin" in freezing cold Squampton

Ryan

My Christmas gift from Karma

2005-01-05T15:48:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: I appologize to the older generation of readers for my language in the following documentation, but there is simply no way of expresing this story without the affiliated obsenities. I have not imbellished this story at all for theatrical effect. Everything written here is my story to the best that I can remember it, with some gaps of the incedent itself filled in with the help of those who witnessed the accident happen.

And now, by popular demand, here is my story of A holiday season I'll never forget:

I remember quite vividly the moment i rolled out from under the truck, confused as hell, and still trying to get a grip on what had just happened. The brief moment of silence was quickly replaced by the sounds of my friend Gayna screaming "oh my god oh my god oh my god!", the swarms of people flooding to my side asking "are you ok, are you ok?", and my indistructable sarcastic voice uttering the word "ow" over and over again. I remember taking one look at my left knee and thinking "fucking hell, my trip is done!"

The event that had just occurred had spawned a number of "firsts" in my lifetime, many of which, i'd prefer never to experience again. It was my fist time dislocating a knee. It was my first time getting stitches. It was also my first time in shock. It was the first time I'd ever been rushed to an emergency room, as was it my first time on a stretcher and my first experience with a needle in the ass. I got to spend my first night in a hospital bed, and i'm currently in the process of dealing with life on crutches for the first time. All of these, of course comming as the result of my first time being run over by a truck. Some of you may recall the funny story of how i ran into a parked truck riding my bike a couple years ago, but this one was a lot more serious and I've been a bit slower to find the humour in this situation.

Karma somehow always has a way of comming back to bite you in the ass. I assume that somewhere along the line in the past 3 months I managed to do enough bragging and gloating about how much fun I was having in "paradise" to warrant someone smacking some sense into me. I fully expected this to happen of course, but what i did not expect was that it would come from a pshyco Thai taxi driver driving a pickup truck.

I get the feeling that I'm going to be telling this story an aweful lot in the months and years to come, so i might as well save myself some effort and get all the details out of the way. If you're the type of person who just skims through long mass emails and doesn't have the patience to read them line for line (hey, i'm guilty of that sometimes too), then no worries, i'm sure you'll get the gist. It'll prolly get long and boring in parts, but i figure while i'm at it, i'm just gonna spill out every detail so I have a written record of the scariest moment of my entire life. It'll make a good bedtime story to read to my grandchildren some day. If you do enjoy reading my long emails and really want to know what happened to me, then I suggest you print this out, sit yourself down with a cup of tea by a warm fire, and enjoy the tale of my brush with death.

To understand the full complexity of the issue and the hell i went through in the days following my accident, i have to begin a few days prior to the event. I was chilling on Ko Tao, a wee little island off the east coast of Southern Thailand. It was december 23rd, and I was toiling with the idea of spending christmas on the peaceful island, or heading up to Bangkok to spend it in Urban Chaos. I ran in to a few guys from vancouver and a girl from england (Paul, Alex, And Gayna) while checking my email later that day, and after a good night of drinking, i decided to take them up on their offer to tag along with them to Ko phangan, the meca of giant beach parties and home to the infamous "full moon parties". There was a full moon party on the 26th, and in addition we figured that christmas would be pretty kick ass there as well. So, christmas eve we hopped on a boat to Ko phangan where we found a nice little bungalow, and went for dinner.

After dinner we ended up meeting a huge group of fellow drunkerds, and next thing ya know it was 6am christmas morning and i was on a beach, with a beer in hand, watching the sun rise up over the ocean. I was on cloud nine at this point (still plastered out of my tree) and this was shaping up to be one of the best holiday seasons yet. After finally making it back to bed at 10am, I spent most of christmas day sleeping till 6pm. We dicided to call it an off night and lay off the booze, so I had a nice relaxing christmas dinner of chicken curry, rice, and a banana milk shake.

By the time i awoke on boxing day, the historic event that rocked asia had allready occured, but because i was on the east coast, it didn't affect me at all (keep in mind as you read this that i am 15 hours ahead of vancouver time). I wandered down to the nearest little town around noon to call my folks and wish them a merry christmas, had a nice little chat, and everything was all good. The catastrophic event was not even brought up because none of us knew about it at the time. I said my goodbyes, and it was off to the other end of the island for the full moon party later that night. This was also when i checked my email to find a message from darcy, and as it turns out we were both on the same island but i had no idea how to find him and he had no idea I was here. I just figured I'd run into him at the full moon party. If not, it was no big deal.

So my friends and I decided that there was no point trying to find a bungalow for the night because we didn't plan on sleeping and they were leaving the next day at noon anyway. I was just going to find one myself the next day if i didn't run into darcy at the party. Alex and Paul had met a friend named keith a few weeks back, and he had a place for us to store our bags for the night, so thats where we spent most of the day boxing day and where i first saw the events on the news about the earthquake. I figured I should send out an email to everyone letting them know i was unaffected by the tsunami, but i was nowhere near internet and it could wait untill the next day. We chilled out at Keiths bungalow for a bit, met a bunch of people and then left to go to the party beach for a bit and said we'd come back later. We began our drinking got intoduced to a bunch more friends of friends, and the night was beginning to get good.

Around 9 or so we headed back to Keiths place to meet back up with them and this is where it all went downhill. We rounded up the clan and walked out to the road to flag down a taxi (just so you all know, taxis here are pickup trucks that have two long benches in the back and canopy over the top). One stopped for us and we all piled in. There wasn't enough room inside for all of us to sit, so I, along with many others, was standing on the back. I wanted to hop on the roof indonesia style but the driver wouldn't allow it (go figure, i would have been safe up there).

So off we went. About 100 meters later, going up a super steep hill the driver stalled. Vancouver people think boundary rd and hastings style, edmonton people think.....well....you don't have hills that steep. Just imagine maybe driving up rabit Hill. I remember the first time i saw that lousy excuse for a ski hill I laughed so hard I......Ok, back to the story.

So, being so piled full of people, the driver wanted the people on the back to hop off and help push while he tried to get going again. I did so, and I was standing at the back right corner of the truck. As he tried to start, the truck began to roll back, so i moved slightly out of the way to the side of the truck where i stood with my body facing it (also keep in mind that thais drive on the opposite side of the road so this put me out around the center of the road) The next thing i knew i felt a huge blow to my left side and i was on the ground looking up at the sky through about a 1 foot gap between two taxis.

What happened was that another taxi speeding up the hill did not want to stop on the hill behind out taxi, so he gunned it and sped around on the right, leaving no room to spare for me. He took me out with the front of his truck, and was more concerned with making it up the hill than with the fact that he had a human being lying under his truck. Rather than slamming on the breaks after he hit me, he proceeded to gun it, and run over my left knee and right ankle. Everything happend so fast that all i remember is falling to the ground, having no idea what was going on, and trying to protect myself as i was being slammed back and forth in the small gap between the two trucks. I remember falling to the ground, feeling a lot of pain, and seeing the taxi jolt as though it had run over a speed bump (but no, it was just me!). It crushed my foot so bad that It tore my sandal right off my foot - and i'm not talking about a flip-flop type sandle. This was one of those really good, strap on type that I had had for 7 years without the slightest sign of any wear and tear. Both straps were riped apart, and the heal support was ripped right in two where there wasn't even the weakness of a seam. Right through the thick supportive material! The metal pieces in the straps were what gouged my foot up and caused me to need stitches. Most horrific of all, I remember the image of a tire rolling within inches of my head as I lay helplessly on my back on the concrete.

I do not know for sure the exact details of how i got run over. I don't think i was under the actual taxi itself, but fell on the road in between the two taxis because i remember being hit and then squished between stuff. I also vaugely recall rolling out from under the back of the speeding taxi, but i don't think that would be possible for me to be completely under the truck itself, given their low ground clearance. At the time i thought it was just my right foot that got run over, and my knee dislocated from the initial collision, but the gentleman in the hostpital bed next to me the following day was observant enough to point out the undisputable tire treads through the road rash (or tire rash) on my left knee.

Like i said, everything happend so fast that I have no positive idea what exactly happend. all i know is that i got hit, knocked down, and my legs run over by a truck going anywhere from 20-60 kms an hour. I wont try and guess on the speed cause i don't have the slightest clue. All i know is it happend in a flash, hurt like a son of a bitch, and shook me up pretty good. It was by far, the scariest split second of my entire life.

People always talk about your life flashing before your eyes in a situation like this but that never happened. I think that happened to me once when I was a child, falling off a swing set and doing a header into the gravel, but not this time. I have no way to put into words the thought process that went through my mind in that split second, but it was scary as hell, I can tell you that much. Imagine a lot of fear, a feeling of "oh, what the fuck...?", pain, confusion, and the thought that this was not gonna turn out good. Throw into the mix some concrete, a half ton of steel, some rubber, and crash test dummy rolling around on the ground and you get the gist. I wonder about how they say humans only use like 10 percent of their brain power, and I can see that being true when you consider how many thoughts went through my mind in such a short time. Why is it that we can only tap into that other 90% when we are about to die or lying helplessly under a truck? just a thought.

So anyway, back to the story. As I was lying in the middle of the road after the accident, I figured my trip was done. anyone who's ever dislocated a knee cap may know that without the kneecap in its proper position, the whole leg looks incredibly fucked up. I thought i had blown my leg apart, and still cannot believe that nothing got broken (as far as i know). So I'm lying on the road, still trying to figure out what do do, when the next truck coming up the hill starts to honk his horn at me to get out of the way!!! I'm sitting there with a leg that looks like it is made of rubber, and an ankly bleeding all to hell after just getting run over, and the idiot has the nerve to honk! So after a minute everyone decided that I did have to get off the road (hey, people had a full moon party to get to, how dare I hold them up!). A taxi comming the other way said that he would take me to the hospital so my friends carried me into it where I laid down on the bench and met my Guardian angel.

I don't know who she was, but she held my head in her lap and talked me through my stage of shock that was beginning to set in. I never saw her face because of the darkness but I will remember that voice for the rest of my life. Perhaps it was the 6 beer I had previously drank, or the shock setting in, but I remember finding the humour in the situation to start going off about how she was my guardian angel sent to watch over me. That humourous situation soon passed as we wend over a bump sending the most excruciating pain through my dislocated knee. Alex asked me if i wanted him to try and pop it back in, but the flashbacks of Mike Hadican "knowing" how to pop my dislocated shoulder back in place years ago were all too frightening. This was also around the time I took a look at my ankle and noticed that it was problably worse off than my knee. There was blood oozing from it everywhere and there were two huge bumps forming. It looked like something from the movies. It was a bad idea looking at it though cause thats when I started to feel pain from there aswell.

A half hour later (maybe it was less, but it sure felt like that) we arrived at the hospital and the circus ensued. With no doctor on duty and 3 nurses who must have just passed their written examination to be qualified, Alex and paul did most of the work. They asked for a stretcher and the nurses just stood there clueless. trying to tell me to come into the hospital . Alex dragged one over and showed her my knee and kindly pointed out to her the fact that "he cant walk!" It was here that the nurses had the genius idea to put me in a weelchair, to which alex once again pointed to my knee and told them how it might be a bit difficult for me to crawl out of the truck and into the weelchair. So Alex and paul went and found a stretcher, and did all the work getting me into the hospital where i went for exrays. Thai nurses don't have much sympathy or compasion for bunged up extremidies as they twist and turn them trying to get the right position for the exrays. Luckily enough for me my knee popped back into place during this process, cause the nurses trying to do it would not have been fun.

Then it was off to the emergency room where they started to stitch up my foot without any freezing or painkillers at all. Me, alex and Paul started screaming at them to give me something, which eventually caused one nurse to come back and give me a shot of something in the ass. Whatever it was, it helped a bit, but the cleaning of my bunged up foot was not fun at all. Eventually, after about a half hour of hell in the emargency room (If you want to call it an emergency room), they shipped me off to my bed where i got a total of about, um, no sleep that night. Alex and Paul stayed and chatted with me for a bit, and I gave them Darcys email address so they could send him and email and let him know i was on the island and in the hospital. I then told them to get their asses to the full moon party and give'r for me. There was no point in them hanging around and I couldn't thank them enough for their help that night.

The next morning, the doctor came in (nice of him to show up for work) and looked at my x-rays. In thailand, looking at a blurry exray with no visible breaks means "you're ok, good to go!" Legament damage, whats that? "Not boken, you ok" is the phrase I heard over and over as i tried to ask them if it was possible that there might be more care needed for a dislocated knee and a swolen up, bleeding, colors of the rainbow ankle. The doctor grabbed me knee, poked around a bit, and said "not broken, you ok".

I wanted to just park myself in the hospital bed but the nurses were telling me that I was ok and had to go. It was so frustrating when they kept asking me when my friends were coming to pick me up. what friends!?!? They just would not get it. With the english/thai language barrier, trying to explain to them that "The friends that were with me the night of the accident are not the friends that I can't get ahold of, they are just the people i was travelling with and they are leaving for Laos today but i need to get ahold of my other friends who are here on this island but I don't know where they are because i havent met up with them since i left them a month ago in indonesia and I don't have a place to go because I don't know where they are staying or have anyway of getting ahold of them and I don't have my own bungalow cause those other guys i was with and I got rid of ours because we didn't plan on sleeping the night of the full moon party and I was just going to find one the next day but I kinda can't now because I CAN"T WALK!!!!!" They would just stare at me with this look of confusion and smile. "its ok, not broken", says the nurse.

They were expecting me to walk out of there and I was trying to explain to them that it Kinda hurt to walk! So then, the nurse comes back with the genius idea of crutches! While they might be a great invention when you have one bunged up leg, using your dislocated knee as the good leg for support doesn't work so well. Regardless, i had no choice and was discharged from the hospital with no place to go. The only place i had was to go back to keiths where my bag was storred and try and figure out what to do from there. I took a taxi there and this is where i almost lost my grip on reality.

The only way to get to the hotel was to walk down a long, steep path from the road to the beach, where you had to walk along the beach, through water in parts, and many trails that were not designed with handicap accessability in mind. On two good legs the previous day, it took about ten minutes, but this day it took 45. I was in excruciating pain, and had a nice experience learning how to use crutches for the first time. I had sweat just gushing down my face and i was in so much pain from having to use both my legs to navigate through that I just started screaming "Fuck" at the top of my lungs quite frequently. Eventually I made it to keiths bungalow where alex and paul where just grabbing their bags to head for the bus. They were in complete awe that I had made it and wondered what the hell i was doing out of the hospital. I told them about how they discharged me and they could understand since they witnessed the mentality and chaos of the hospital the previous night. They offered to leave the next day and switch their tickets but i told them that wasn't necessary and they had done more than enough to help me, considering I had just met them a couple days ago. So we said godbye and they set off for Laos.

So now i was just making myself at home at Keiths bungalow, even though i wasn't a guest there and i'd really only hung out with this keith guy the previous day for a total of about an hour. I had nowhere else to go, and I was terrified of having to go back up that path. Keith was super understanding and helpfull, and one of his friends offered to let me stay in his room, so i took him up on the offer and decided to put off actually deciding what to do untill the next day. For now, it was just banana juice and BBC as I watched the information trickle in about the tsunami. I figured i should probably send out an email to everyone and let them know i was ok, but that was low on my priority list for i didn't feel like going anywhere.

The next day I had to do something. My legs were killing me, and the blood had soaked through the bandages on my foot so i had to go back to the hospital to get it cleaned up. I waited about an hour for a taxi boat to go by, cause there was no way in hell i was going to go back up that path. I took the boat a short distance to a spot where the road was in easy hobbling distance, and there i waited, standing in pain as about ten taxis just drove right by me. Once again, I let that good old "F" word and other explicits fly out of my mouth. Finally, one stopped and demanded an unreasonable amount of money to go to the hospital but I was so frustrated I just agreed and off I went. After getting to the hospital and getting cleaned up, I realized that the only way I was going to get ahold of Darcy was to email Him and let him know i was just gonna stay put at the hospital and hopefully he'd come meet me there and pick up my bag from keiths along the way. This was the only way I'd have a place to go, cause the entire island was pretty much booked up, and I was in no condition to wander around from bungalow to bungalow trying to find a room. So I once again paid an enormous sum to go in a taxi to an internet cafe and send Darcy an email.

This is when i found my inbox full of emails from everyone wanting to know if I was ok after the Tsunami. Go figure, everyone is scared for my safety because of what they see on the news, and little do they know that i'm lying in a hospital bed after being run over by a truck. Then there are the series of emails from my parents, worried sick and mad at me because i haven't sent them an email letting them know i'm ok. They figure I'm lying on a beach somewhere and just don't have the curtousy to email them and ease their worries. The way I saw it, I had allready spoken to them after the tsunami had taken place boxing day and told them i was on the eastern coast of thailand, so they would know i was ok. there was no need to phone them about my accident and get them all worked up until I knew exactly the full extent of how bunged up I was. Regardless, I bought a phone card to use back at the hospital, and back I went to spend the next three days in a nice clean prison.

Then of course, the phone card didn't work at the hospital, so I borrowed an english guys cell phone and left a message on my parents answering machine with the number of the hospital and told them to call there. There are no such things as collect or reverse-charge calls here in asia. they don't exist. If I was dead and lying in their hospital, they would not let anyone phone canada and tell my parents. I don't understand things here sometimes. Anyway, Darcy showed up that night which was really good to see a familiar face. I was going to go with him but I decided to stay at the hospital in case my parents phoned. They did, 3 times, but of corse, I didn't find out untill the following morning when the nurse told me so. I asked her why she did not tell me and she replied with "We though you go home".

So this was great, now my parents think I'm not only to lazy to call them, but i'm not where I say I'm going to be. At this point, my mom is freeking out back home cause she has heard from darcys mom (they talk through email) that something happened to me involving a truck and she knows i'm in the hospital. Unfortunatly, she'd have to wait a few more days cause i was stuck in a hospital bed and going nowhere.

Ok, I'm gonna start to shorten this thing up a bit cause its getting rediculously long and I'm getting tired of writing it. So Yada yada yada, I ended up getting out of the hospital, calling my parents and straightening everything out, meeting up with darcy and gavin, and taking over their bungalow now that they have left for burma. I have everything i need within a two minute crutches walk from my bungalow: Restaurants, 7-11, a heath clinic, and the beach. I spend the days sleeping, eating, writing this bloody email in sections (I've been writing it a little bit each day for about about 4 days now) and watching movies. My ability to navigate around on crutches is getting better by the day, and I'm becoming really good friends with the owners of my bungalow and the nurse at the clinic. The ankle and knee are healing slowly, and i'm just gonna take my time chilling out here until I am able to walk myself off this Island. Then I'm gonna head up to bangkok and get a second opinion on my injuries from a doctor i trust more.

Its ironic that my plan before all this happend was to kick off the new year in a ten day buddhist retreat where i was going to sleep on concrete, meditate, fast, and not talk to anyone. This is kinda the same thing in a way. I spend a lot of time alone in isolation, I might as well be sleeping on concrete the way i have to lie uncomfortably with my leg propped up as i sleep on my back, and instead of meditating, I focus all my thoughts on thinking about what i would do if I could come face to face with that taxi driver (who, by the way, fled the scene). I don't fast though, I just sit on my ass most of the day and feast like a king.

I won't try and act all macho and pretend like this hasn't shaken me up at all. After the accident, I was really having a tough time with it. Its not easy to deal with something like this and that damn cliche about whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger is a load of crap. What doesn't kill you is just seriously annoying, frustrating and makes you want to snap on everyone and everything! I try to look at the positives and tell myself over and over again that this could have been a lot worse. A week prior to the accident i was lying on a beach in Phuket, diving in the nearby waters, and sleeping in a muslum fishing villiage built entirely on stilts in the ocean which i imagine no longer exists. In addition, the fact that If my head had landed 6 inches to the side on the concrete it would have been it that got run over instead of my foot and knee. So I am fully aware that it could have been a lot worse.

Understandably, many friends and family members think I should come home and get my injuries checked out by western doctors. Unfortunatly, I worked way too hard and waited too long to get here and there's no way thats going to happen. I'm sticking it out here, and Unless things don't heal and get really bad, I wont even consider it. Today marks the exact half way point of my trip, so perhaps its fitting that things get a bit of a change-up and a new beginning.

I've become a bit of legend here on hat rin beach. I keep running into people that saw the event happen or were in either the taxi I was in first or the taxi on the way to the hospital. They come up to me, amazed that i'm standing, and ask me how i'm doing. They then turn to their freinds and say "this is that guy I was telling you about that got run over". Their faces light up in amazement and they shake my hand, also suprized after the story they have been told. It seems that my tale has been told to many people and I am now that guy in Hat Rin that got run over.

I said to many people before I left that I was prepared to face some sort of adversity during my trip. I knew it wasn't going to be complete smooth sailing, and while I figured the adversity would come more in the form of things getting stolen or lost, this is just something that I will have to deal with. When you think about it, it is quite remarkable that I got full-on run over by a truck and walked away with the relatively small injuries that I did. I'm a fucking Iron Man, and in the words of Freddy Mercury, "The show must go on".

.....and thats the short verson!

Irony

2004-12-28T15:46:00.000-08:00

Well, where to start

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for the flood of emails i've gotten from everyone wanting to make sure i'm ok. I appreciate the concern and I appologize for my slow dely in responding and assuring you all of my well being. The Irony of the situation is that all of you are worried about me and the events you see on the news. The truth is that while i am on the eastern coast of thailand, safe from the tsunami, I was not quite so lucky to avoid being run over by a truck.

I've been in the hospital a couple days and my situation is so messed up right now i can't even begin to explain it. I have about 5 minutes left and i gotta go back to the hospital where i have no way of contacting anyone through phone or email. I'm sorry for the lack of info and i'll write a long email explaining what happened in detail when i get a chance. Please, don't worry about me, i'll live. It has really put a damper on my trip but i keep looking at the positives and the fact that i am incredibly lucky to survive being run over by a truck with only a dislocated left knee, twisted left ankle, sprained right ankle, 9 stitches, and some road rash. Like I said, i'm sorry to leave you all hanging with so little info, but i am ok, and when i get all my shit sorted out i'll go into further detail.

Chillin' in the thong sala hospital,

Ryan

Christmas greetings from paradise

2004-12-25T15:46:00.000-08:00

Hey kids

Just wanted to wish everyone a merry christmas. While I had no christmas trees or snow this year, i had to settle for Palm trees, white sand, and an all night brew ha ha on hat rin beach in Ko phen ngan, Thailand. I watched the sun come up on christmas morning (I was still up drinking) and ended up spending the majority of christmas day sleeping to make up for christmas eve's festivities. Tonight is the full moon party, and its gonna be even crazier! 15 000 - 20 000 people on a beach drinking till the next morning. Its hard to imagin a more alcholol induced festive season. I love it.

So yeah, merry christmas from paradise

Ryan

What I've learned in Indonesia

2004-12-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

Greetings Winter Sufferers

So with my time in indonesia rapidly comming to an end, I thought it would be fitting to look back and reflect upon what I have learned in the past two months. I was originally going to make a top ten list, but I've learned so much that i couldn't decide on the best 10, so here now are the Top 17 things i've learned:

17. Leg hair makes a great napkin

16. Despite what cartoons and movies will lead you to believe, roosters do not go cock-a-doodle-doo on the roof of a barn at sunrise. They go Cock-a-doodle-doo all freeking night long!

15. If it is sold in Canada, you can buy a cheap, rip off version for 1/10 the price in indonesia.

14. Try to avoid sneezeing while peeing.

13. Wiping your ass with your hand is not all that bad after all, barring the abscence of any "cling ons"

12. Muslim culture is deadly strict about fasting regulations, praying, no alchohol, and no pre marital sex, yet it says fuck all about lying through their teeth!

11. A family of five can fit comfortably on a Moped.

10. Trivia: What smells like 2 week old garbage, and tastes like sour milk and rotten onions? Durian, thats what! It's this fruit that the locals go hog wild over and makes me gag at the slightest scent of it.

9. Monkeys, no matter how cute they may look, are mischievious, canaiving, bastards.

8. Hello mister is quite possible the most commonly known prase that all indonesians know how to say in english. You can expect to hear this about 400 times a day.

7. The roof is often the most comfortable seat on a bus.

6. It is possible for your piss to change color from orange to clear in one single stream

5. Stepping inside a vehicle in indonesia is like playing russian roulette.

4. Never trust an indonesian firework.

3. With a little bit of rope and some good balance, you can carry more cargo on a motorbike than you can in a Dodge Caravan

2. Turning your boxers inside out is about 75% as effective as putting on a new pair.

1. All it takes to marry an indonesian girl is 8 water buffalo. With a little bargaining, you could probably get 'em down to 7 buffalo and a couple of pigs.

And now, an exerpt from my journal, November 24th, 2004

Driving in indonesia.

While it is simply impossible to describe the experience of driving in indonesia onto paper using only words, I shall do my best to create a picture of the insanity. From what I have experienced, these are the rules of the road in this country beautiful scenery, friendly people, and maniac drivers.

Like in britain, Indonesians drive on the left side of the road. Of course, this is only in theory. In reality, they drive on whatever side of the road they feel like. A two lane road (one each way) is in fact a two lane highway in both directions. When faced with the constant dilemma of a head on collision, drivers may choose to resort to their default left lane, or play chicken with the oncomming car untill one ends up riding on their shoulder. I think indonesians invented the game of "Chicken"

When present, the center line is merely an arbitrary line of reference. Its purpose is to....oh, who am i kidding, it has no purpose. Half the time it has more curves than the road itself.

If there is only a motorcycle comming the other way, it is ok to pass the vehicle in front of you, provided you leave enough room on the opposite shoulder (or dirt or ditch or whatever is there) for the motorcycle to drive on.

The newly implemented seatbelt law seems a little ironic when you see 15 indonesians riding on the roof of a bus.

There are no speed limits. you drive as fast as your rusted out, falling apart, run to the ground 20 years ago, beat up, piece of shit car that would be condemmed in canada will take you. Indonesians drive with the RPM in the red, and every car ride is a race with the cars in front of you. There is no concept of road rage because everyone has it. If you are not passing every car you see, you are crazy and should get off the road before you hurt someone.

The horn is kinda like a warning signal. you lay on the horn to let the semi rig in front of you know you are there when it is pitch black and you are passing it on the shoulder. this way, it knows not to move over an inch and force you off the cliff. the horn can also be used to say hi, express frustration, warn butterflys and broken glass on the road that you are comming, or simply as a musical instrument if you are bored. somehow, indonesians can descipher between them all.

Canada's "2 second" rule for keeping distance from the car in front of you is replaced with indonesia's "2 inches" rule. And no, I am not exaggerating. When travelling at 160 km/h, this equates to about .000134 seconds. I don't know how i'm still alive to write this.

Stepping inside a vehicle here in indonnesia is pretty much the same as playing a game of russian roulette. you have about a 1 in 6 chance of surviving.

In Jakarta, a "5 lane" road becomes 10 lanes of traffic in rush hour, with motorcycles and rickshaws filling every last inch between the cars. You can expect to move about 4 feet/hour. A baby crawling on the street passed me once.

The gravel, pothole filled shoulder is a perfectly acceptable passing lane while doing 100+ km/h. Of course this is only to be used when the car comming in the other lane is bigger than you. If it is smaller, proceed by passing in the oncomming lane, and drive the little bastard into THEIR gravel, pothole filled shoulder.

"ordered chaos" is what i like to call it. Pedestrians get out of the way of bicycles, bicycles out of the way of motorbikes, motorbikes avoid the cars, cars give way to busses, and everything gets the hell out of the way of big trucks. Somehow, rickshaws fit into the mix and goats, chickens, cows and water buffalo have the right of way and superscede all rules of the ordered chaos system. To sum it up, the biggest vehicle wins by default, but farm animals rule the road.

A ride in a rickshaw is like a carnival ride. I just imagine i'm not paying for transportation, but for the thrill of having the bejesus scared out of me as we navigate through rush hour traffic on a rickety old tricycle with a cracked out carney at the helm.

There is no such thing as selling out a bus. Just keep packing 'em in until you cannot feel your legs.

If it is possible in theory, it is done on an indonesian road. this includes families of five on motorbikes, goats riding on the roofs of busses, and passing a semi truck in a "greyhound" sized bus on a single lane road filled with potholes around a blind corner at 150 km/h with people on the roof and hanging out the doors, and the driver yapping on a cell phone. Its ok though cause the driver honked the horn.

Indonesians would make the best indy car drivers. They allready learn the skills from the time they learn to drive at 6 years old.

4 sub woofers with "2 live crew" and "vanilla ice" cranked to the max in a souped up bemo filled with all your friends is just another ride on public transportation. Tyler Magee, i found your dream job.

Waking up in the middle of the night to tires screaching, the bus swerving, horns honking and headlights beaming right at you is a lot like i imagined death, minus the warm, peaceful feeling. D'arcy got that though when he wet his pants.

To sum it all up. Indonesians have secretly found a way to break the laws of physics. I don't know how, but they did and i'm convinced its the only reason they're still alive. Either that or they just simply do not fear death. While my exeriences driving outside of north america are limited to only indonesia, i cannot imagine anywhere else being any worse. I am quite positive that indonesians are the most insane drivers on the face of the planet, and i hope they are cause i got 4 more months of travelling and i used up my 9 lives about 6 weeks ago.

On a more serious note:

What i've really learned here in indonesia is that this is an amazing country that has been absolutely killed by the downturn in tourism. There is no giant threat of terrorism, nor do i ever feel unsafe. It is a country filled with amazing people, secenery, and a giant love for life. There is no reason not to come here and experience it, despite what the media, american propoganda, or what joe blow on the street thinks he knows. They don't have everything we have back home, nor are they even remotely as wealthy, but when you break it all down, i think they are happier than we are. They live such simple lives, and are not bombarded with the constant pressures of living in a consumeristic society. I've loved my 2 months here and would work 70 hours a week at Office depot and the brick all over again to come back. I really hope my emails and pictures can inspire some people to do the same cause it really has been an amazing two months and i wish you all could experience it.

With that said, I'm currently chilling out in Southeast asia's largest lake in northern sumatra. I left Darcy and Gavin a week ago, as they took off on their quest to go to east timor and renew their indonesian visas. While i love this country, i have far to much to see and to little time so i had to be on my way.

I've spent too long typing out this email, so i'm not going to go into detail on what i've been up to the last couple weeks. Basically i did some more scuba diving, went to a traditional hill tribe and feasted on water buffalo, saw the three colored lakes of kelimutu, and flew from maumere, Flores back to bali (cringe) to find out where to go next. from there, i decided to hop on a flight across almost the entire country up here to sumatra, killed the last week drinking with locals, going to a wedding, and trekking through the rainforrest with wild orang-utans, before heading down here to lake Toba for some relaxation. Friday i fly out to Kuala lampur, Malaysia, and begin chaper 2 of my journey. So yeah, thats that, and till next time...

From ocean depths to mountain tops, and everything in between

2004-11-09T15:42:00.000-08:00

I know its been a couple weeks since i've updated last, but i havent really done all that much that is interesting to write about. I've really only spent the last couple weeks surfing, drinking, river rafting, getting attacked by monkeys, chilling on white sandy beaches with turquois waters, becoming a certified scuba diver, swimming underwater with sharks, triggerfish, sea turtles, eels, and any type of tropical fish you can think of, climbing the second highest mountain in indonesia, swimming in a volcano crater lake, and hanging out with hot little indonesian girls who think we are gods. So you can see why not all that much is worth writing about. I'm being sarcastic of course, as usual. I just have to rub it in.

So yeah, if you're still reading on and don't hate me by this point, i can go into a bit more detail. I think i last left off in Bali, where we stayed there way too long for a being a package tourist destination. The only fun things there were surfing (which, by the way, is more difficult than it looks). If any of you plan to try it, make sure you keep the nose of your board up or you'll do face plants into the water, slam your face in the sand, and then, only if you're lucky, get smoked in the back of your head with the board. its a tough life out here in paradise, but i suppose its worth it. Other than surfing, we basically just drank, went to clubs, and spent the days wandering around and eating mcdonalds Mcflurrys. We did go white water rafting, which was pretty fun. The raft in front of us smoked a cliff and flipped over. Me and darcy were lauging our faces off as our guide was going nuts trying to paddle up to them and help them. One of the girls was just getting carried away down the river with the funnies look of fear and helplessness in her eyes. Me and darcy smiled and waved at her. It was all good though. she eventually got to shore and we went out drining with her and her boyfriend later that night so there were no hard feelings.

Fiom kuta bali we made a brief detour to a monkey forrest, where we bought bananas to feed to the cute little guys and Gavin made fun of me for putting mine in my backpack. He was hardcore and walked right in with them in his hand. Oddly enough, as soon as the first monkey spotted him, it jumped on him and started going nuts. so as he was running around screaming, he tried to give me the bananas and i kindly rejected the offering, so he ended up throwing them on the ground and that was the end of them bananas. What i learned there is that monkeys, no matter how cute they may look, are vicious, greedy, little bastards.

Yada yada yada, we took off from the monkey forrest to the island of Lombok (in case you're keeping track at home and playing the "where is Ryan today" game). I'm skipping out so many details cause i just don't have time to write them all. I should note that the ride from monkey forrest to the ferry terminal was the most scared i had ever been in my entire life. Anyway, we got to lombok and yada yada yada, a few days later and another car ride from hell (which was a new record of the most scared i have ever been in my entire life, surpassing the two day old record by about ten fold), we ended up in the gili islands (remember to not that if you're playing the "where was Ryan last week" game at home. Gili Trawangan to be exact, a small paradise island to the north of Lombok, whith white sandy beaches, turquois water and an awfully tempting dive shop with the opportunity to become a certified scuba diver. So after hemming and hawing over the $275 US cost for a couple days, i decided that I'm here in vacation, I worked my ass off to get here, and screw it, i wanna swim with the fishies! So me and Dacry spent 4 days in school, doing homework and tests, and got to go on 4 dives as part of our training. Who knew it was so much training and knowledge to swim underwater? But anyhoo, i cannot express in words how beautiful it is, swimming underwater in tropical oceans and yeah, like i said, i cant express it in words. Its freeking cool. So we were on the island for about 7 days all together and we started getting restless, so we finally took off to the base town of Mount Rinjani back on lombok, where we made preparations for the most strenuous physical activity of my entire life. Once again, who knew climbing the second highest mountain in indonesia would be tough work eh? Add to that, the fact that we were too cheap to get a guide, to cheap to get porters to carry our gear, and even to cheap to fork out the extra dollar a day for a good tent. We went with the more economical "not so good tent" that fell over during the night. So yeah, to give an idea, almost everyone that does that trek has at least a porter with them to carry the gear and cook your food for the three days you're gone. we didn't need one though, we're from canada, land of mountains. We basically survived off mr noodles and boiled volcanic lake water.

The hike up the first day took 9 hours and 45 minutes to the crater rim, where we watched the most beautiful sunset of my entire life. we were so high we were above the freeking clouds! i wish i could upload my photos here cause the view was simply amazing. the next day me and gavin hiked down the 2 hour jouney to the crater lake (it should have taken an hour and a half, but we got lost and had to climb down a cliff which, in hiensight was pretty dumb, but we had no choice cause we had to get down to boil water in order to survive. we made it down alive though, boiled our water, and hiked back up to the crater rim where D'Arcy "i don't have the energy to go to the lake" Hamilton was waiting for us to bring him back water. We camped there that night and then woke the next morning and made the knee breaking climb down to the bottom of the great beast where we chugged a shitload of water to feed our dehydrated bodies (we pretty much elected to starve our thirsts rather than drink the boiled lakewater). Thats the very basic version of the trek though, for i don't have time to write it all. I did get to see my sunrise from the top if an indonesian volcano though, which was awesome. that was one of the number one things i wanted to do on this trip and its done and out of the way. And for all you guys at home who are jealous, remember, it aint all beaches and beer, i had to work for that one. it was tough!

So moving on in my extremely abbreviated summary, we are currently on the island of sumbawa, chilling out in a town called Sumbawa Basar, deciding what to do next. theres so many possibilities and so little time that its hard to make a decison. we can go hike into hill tribes, see ancient ruins and caves, go to a nature reserve with tones of marine and animal life, go scuba diving, hike more volcanos, or move on to the island of komodo and see the komodo dragons! not enough time to see it all though, which is really frustrating. Its a tough life out here.

Stupid White Men

2004-10-20T15:40:00.000-07:00

Ok, so i've come to realize that Indonesia is not quite the best place in the world to find internet connections that aren't running off 15 year old computers and connection speeds that take 10 minutes to load a web page. I guess its to be expected, but its frustrating none the less when we're used to what we have at home. Up until now, i simply haven't had the patience to deal with them, but i've now found a place that is manageable, so you all can feel honoured that i'm taking time out of my busy day to update you on my wacky adventures.

I think the last email i wrote was back in Yogyakarta, after we'd gone to borobudur. Since then, quite a bit has happened. So much to tell, and i wish you all could see and experience everything, but i'll just be brief and sum it up quickly cause i've wasted an hour here trying to upload my photos. So basically, after my last email, we were lured up to mount Merapi, with promises of seeing an erupting volcanoe from the summit complete with flowing lava and smoke. In reality, we were not allowed to climb up high because of the danger of it suddenly erupting, and we couldn't see any lava. it was a cool experience though, and the view of the smoking volcano was pretty cool. I learned though to be careful when i drink lots of water cause having to pee on a bumpy bus ride when the driver won't stop and nobody cares is no fun! In D'arcy's last email he said we climbed to the summit, but he, much like the rickshaw drivers here, is a big fat liar. He wanted to sound cool, when in reality he was bitching the entire way up about how he was too tired and just wanted to go home. We didn't even come close to the summit.

So after that trek, we decided that being in a country of 13 000 islands for over a week and not seeing the beach was not sitting well, so we hightailed it to a beach town on the south coast of Java where all the locals from yogyakarta go to hang out and play in the sand. It wasn't quite the white, sandy beaches i was looking forward to, but there were wicked waves to budy surf in, even though we weren't allowed to swim in the water because of huge rip tides, but it was ok cause we are stupid white men. We chilled out there for a few days and enjoyed the peace and quite (as far as indonesian standards go anyway), and then took off to solo, another city east of Yogyakarta where we ate at Mcdonalds, talked to some other travellers (the first we'd talked to the entire trip), and i went on a mini shopping spree buying cheap shit. The best score being my North face rain jacket for 9 bucks, which would be like $250 at home. Even if its fake, its pretty dam good cause we all still can't prove it is. Its crazy how few other travellers we've seen. The bombings have just killed the tourism industry on Java, which is sad cause it really is an amazing place. Being the only travellers has its ups and downs. We got real good deals on stuff cause everyone was so desperate for our business, but annoying because everyone wants to talk to us and sell us stuff and after a while you just get sick and tired of the attention.

So after solo, we took a 10 hour train ride to the base town for another active volcano. The train was such a cool experience. I walked down and stood at the doorway, hanging halfway out the door for what must have been a couple hours and just couldn't get over the feeling and just how good I felt. I feel so free and at peace. Every person i flew by pointed at me like i was some sort of alien. Its such an abstract concept to understand here. in canada we're so used to seeing people of all races, but here, people are so shocked to see us. Its quite a switch.

After getting off the train in Probobingo, we got ripped off taking a bus to the base town of mount Bromo (as we always do, but it still costs us next to nothing in canadian dollars) but we got there none the less Simply the most amazing, surreal landscape i have ever seen in my entire life. Check out the photos if i can get them to work cause they say it all. The first day there we hiked out to the smoking volcano crater and looked down inside. then we threw rocks in and tried to plug up the hole but it didn't work. Then next day we got up at 3am and hiked to the top of the giant outer crater for the sunrise and the view was incredible. I think it used to be a giant volcano that blew its top, filled in with a crater lake, which then dried up to form a desert with newly forming volcanos inside. whatever it is, it was awesome.

From there we took another painful overnight bus to our current location, the island of Bali. Its a whole different world here. There are actually other tourists and white people everywhere. Its a different scene here. Its pretty much the Tourist central of indonesia, the only place most people come. We bought these funny masks and swords for 80 cents canadian and we're gonna get drunk tonight and go attract attention to ourselves. It should be interesting.

So thats my brief update for now. Hopefully after i send this i can get my photos to work cause theres some cool ones. Hopefull everyone's doing allright back home, and i'll have a large Bintang beer for ya all ($1.20 canadian for an 800mL!).

Throw the Foreigners in the Back

2004-10-11T15:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, so where to begin.

We got the hell out of jakarta a few days ago. While it was definitly an interesting experience, we couldn't stand to stay there any longer than we had to. The only really cool experience there was when we were approached by three young schoolgirls on the street who asked us if we would go with them to their school and talk about our country. their english was quite good and they loved us. the day after that we met up with darcys brother Gavin and we all agreed it was time to get out of there as soon as we could. We tried to catch a train east and head to a city called Jokda (thats how it sounds, i have no idea how to spell it) but the trains were full so we had to settle for some little van/bus thing.

The bus ride was hell. they basically tricked us foreigners into thinking the back was the best, but really it was where the seats didn't recline, there was no leg room, and every bump in the road jarred my neck loose from my spine. so after the longest 12 hours of my life and complete hell overnight on that little bus we got dropped off at borobudur, the largest buhdist stupa in the world that is 1200 years old. Definitly a lot cooler than the chaos of jakarta. This is the indonesia i came to see. We were celebrities on top of the temple, as all the school kids wanted to take pictures of us whities. we must have posed for about 200 photos, but it was a cool experience.

That night we chilled out in the town, borrowed bicycles from our guesthouse and gave'r around town. we got to see a traditional javanese dance and a puppet show. I can't get over how friendly the people are here. always smiling, always saying hi and trying to help. its awsome. Right now I am hungover in Jokda, and we're deciding where to go next. I love it, everyday is a whole new opportunity to do whatever the hell i want. I have so many cool stories and things I wish you all could see but alas, i must go cause i have so much to see and do (actually i just want to go swim in the pool), but keep the emails coming and if anyone has any questions in particular i'll try and answer them in my next email