tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68527418020949965412024-03-12T19:35:52.040-04:00Dal and David's First Once-in-a-Lifetime AdventureA Canadian couple in our early 30's exploring and volunteering in Rwanda, Tanzania, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and India for 20 weeks.Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-875349102367701632011-02-11T09:17:00.000-05:002011-02-11T09:17:50.435-05:00Letter of Thanks from Rwandan Municipal Gov't<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Now that we're back in Canada, we can take care of some of the housekeeping details. Here's a scan of a document that was given to our at our last goat distribution session in Rwanda. A huge thanks to all of you who contributed to our goat project ! This is something we're going to frame and keep on the wall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Letter from Jean-Marie who handled the administration for each of our goat distribution session.</td></tr>
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I've also attached a scan of a list that Jean-Marie would bring to each goat distribution session. The headings on the list indicate name, district, # of children, financial status. The list would typically comprise of 20 names. He would inform each of the 20 ahead of time to be at the school at 2:30pm to collect their goat. At the school, he would then call them up one by one, we would give them their goat, take a photo and then they waited for the group photo. If someone showed up who wasn't on the list, he would take down their information and go back to the office to see if their financial status qualifed them for the program.<br />
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In this particular list, each of these people had a financial status of umukene which means these households typically have some land and shelter, but no means to save. They are self-sufficient in the sense that they live from their own labor and produce enough to survive from day to day. Their children do not always attend school, and they usually do not have access to health care. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is an example of a list he's bring. It's organized by name, district, # of kids, financial Status</td></tr>
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And here's a few more photos to remind you, and us, of the goat distribution experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giving a goat to a very happy lady and a very happy baby.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfxhi0FjIP1C_1RsGZ1DBQCZoxaED63jMxAC-lBLKg1niygsBoacnTBKbHi3CUoC97owH7DeAp7WOZm8fmBChmc2CZtxnn9uBC8qZeLJufKlWQ5HYifU2-9p8vzqJVNPCZiDK6oP3gmE/s1600/DSC_1590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfxhi0FjIP1C_1RsGZ1DBQCZoxaED63jMxAC-lBLKg1niygsBoacnTBKbHi3CUoC97owH7DeAp7WOZm8fmBChmc2CZtxnn9uBC8qZeLJufKlWQ5HYifU2-9p8vzqJVNPCZiDK6oP3gmE/s640/DSC_1590.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group picture for the 20 recipients</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hxGWhnONGupdXuI7nD-GhsSMqfY3AiOvOkOMXJ6SmHjNXmLrGIEu7mVwMrciJdNvlzrYklGfRWN3GWdZciikG0mS2NjFgJNAh5GopIy0BaYlYZMTy9LVfn6uIdMp7531zo0UPpDmOek/s1600/DSC_0998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hxGWhnONGupdXuI7nD-GhsSMqfY3AiOvOkOMXJ6SmHjNXmLrGIEu7mVwMrciJdNvlzrYklGfRWN3GWdZciikG0mS2NjFgJNAh5GopIy0BaYlYZMTy9LVfn6uIdMp7531zo0UPpDmOek/s640/DSC_0998.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately this is the only photo I could find with Jean-Marie. Very nice and honest man who managed the program really well.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-63280184607879157102011-02-07T10:39:00.000-05:002011-02-07T10:39:21.377-05:00Angkor Wat, Cambodia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The purpose of our trip to Siem Reap, Cambodia was to see Angkor Wat which we had seen a documentary on just before we left for our trip. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angkor Wat (Sanskrit for Temple City) was built between 1113 and 1150 by King Suryavaman II. The actually Angkor period itself was from 800 AD to about 1400 AD and was started by victorious Khmer Hindu king Jayavarman II who apparently formally declared himself to be a ‘god-king’ and a ‘universal monarch’. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we’ve all felt like a ‘god-king’ at some point in our lives. The Angkor period is littered with kingly battles and takeovers<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>so the temples reflect both Hindu and Buddhist influences.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Angkor Wat is the most famous temple in the area, however there is said to be over 1,000 temples built in the area, a small portion of which have been preserved fairly well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Incredibly, no mortar was ever used to keep the stones together. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In terms of our logistics, our tuk-tuk driver in Phnom Penh told us that his ‘brother’ would love to be our tuk-tuk driver in Angkor Wat and the rate would be $15US per day. A tuk-tuk is required to get from Siem Reap to Angkor (about 30 minutes) and then to actually go from temple to temple as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ‘brother’ Mr. Sun picked us up from the bus station and wound up recommending a guesthouse that was cheaper (by $8 a night) and roomier than the one that we had booked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>[Sidebar : In Toronto, it’s not uncommon to drop $10 for a drink, at least $60 for a decent dinner for 2 and $100 for a clean hotel. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The value of money changes in SE Asia..but the joy of getting a great deal does not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Siem Reap, our original guesthouse was $25 a night and Mr Son recommended a place that was $17 a night. That’s over 30% savings! We’d negotiate at the street markets from $15 down to $8. Sometimes down from $3 to $2. Yes..it’s only a buck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And sometimes we feel a little guilty because the vendor probably needs the dollar a lot more than we do. However we justified to ourselves that we don’t have jobs and we’re travelling for 5 months so each dollar is a little more important to us than usual. Additionally, there are scores of naive tourists (those who don’t negotiate or only try and get 10% off) willing to pay the inflated prices. We resolved to conduct our negotiations fairly and if the vendor accepted our price, he did so because he was making a profit. ]</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We bought a 3-day pass to Angkor Wat and enjoyed learning about the history and climbing up some of the temples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not intelligent or passionate enough about architecture to accurately describe the grandeur we witnessed, so I’ll let the photos do the talking. However here’s a few of our stories.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>The Girl and the Guidebook </strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As our Tuk-Tuk driver parked in front of Angkor Wat, about 15 children approached us selling various trinkets and books. One particular girl, about 12 yrs old, was uber-aggressive and pushed her book towards us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : You need book to enjoy temple. Where are you from?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me :<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Canada</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : Your prime minister is Stephen Harper. Your capital is Ottawa.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me: Very impressive!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : Thank you. Now buy book.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me : How much ?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : $20</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me : That’s crazy talk ! Too expensive.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : No ! It’s very nice book ! See all the pictures !</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me: No. Too expensive. And I don’t want a book now. I’ll buy a book tomorrow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : But I’m not here tomorrow. I go to school.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me : Ok. What’s your best price ?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : Ok ok ok.$15.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is Cambodia! Nothing is $15!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : Ok ok ok. $12.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me: $10 is my final offer. [It was a moment of weakness on my part. I was sure I could get it for $5 but the Harper thing and her school threw me off my game. Damn you, Stephen Harper]</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Girl : Ok. $10</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I opened my wallet and she sees I have Thai Baht currency. She wants Thai Baht instead of US, so I give her 1000 Thai Bhat (about $33 US) so I expect about $23 US in return. She gives me $10. I look at her and tell her to give me $13 more dollars. She gives me $3 more dollars. I ask for $10 more and explain to her that I know exactly how much 1,000 Thai Baht is worth. Her face falls a bit. She says something about having no more US dollars. I give her the change back, take back my 1,000 Baht bill and give her $10 US for the book . She looks a little disappointed and walks away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This whole exchange embodies the good and bad of Cambodia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazing sites and friendly people but poverty-ravaged hoping to make a buck anyway they can, honestly or dishonestly in some cases. BTW, 2 days late we saw some kid selling the same book for $2. D’OH !</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoN-v7ncezXRxDWSNufrsguliVvilLKvVXCouklke6v-LsVZNrOtaE2Z9P_nv-EoL3h81BRrhqSnxsbqRWDyrUdvLaaLY3QKzYiUJ8I8jElPhTbG0K5WWxFmWHge82cC3XYoEgjEt388/s1600/DSC_4814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoN-v7ncezXRxDWSNufrsguliVvilLKvVXCouklke6v-LsVZNrOtaE2Z9P_nv-EoL3h81BRrhqSnxsbqRWDyrUdvLaaLY3QKzYiUJ8I8jElPhTbG0K5WWxFmWHge82cC3XYoEgjEt388/s320/DSC_4814.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adult and child hawkers ready to pounce on tourists</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>After-hours at Angkor Wat</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After walking around for a bit just past sunset, the security guards informed the tourists that visiting hours had come to a close. We lingered for a little bit longer at one particular spot because the views were breathtaking. A guard approached us and asked if we wanted to get even better views. Intrigued, we prodded him and he offered to take us to a higher level for $10. Again, I was a little stunned by the security guard making such an offer so I didn’t even think to negotiate down to $5. We followed the guard into an area undergoing construction. We stealthily climbed a couple sets of stairs, navigated through some scaffolding and walked on a wide ledge until we were at the top. He was right..it was an marvellous view. The security guard then offered to take photos of us. So we gave him our camera, although I watched him like a hawk ready to chase in case his plan was to ditch us and steal our camera. In fact, he took photography quite seriously to the extent that he would lay on the ground to achieve the best angles. It was completely surreal..but we’re happy with his photos.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAWCp30FeSvbRF2mM1PEePyWSvotldpRY6tlGzSUHGUW_I8xMWbSx033nThFMqYL3DusI3izdIVXAWI0oY6iLw7XYB1Wq1sJMzE_EWYvwr3UQhQ8SumFEgniyjEtqKpClkpww1YDQ33k/s1600/DSC_4505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAWCp30FeSvbRF2mM1PEePyWSvotldpRY6tlGzSUHGUW_I8xMWbSx033nThFMqYL3DusI3izdIVXAWI0oY6iLw7XYB1Wq1sJMzE_EWYvwr3UQhQ8SumFEgniyjEtqKpClkpww1YDQ33k/s320/DSC_4505.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So this is safe right ?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvc59YAdtOU1gtWrzANyQtMxut08rrYGAjafFqyNXsaKDcJyXDMenCtdVQgpFAIqyo7jlQZh8qFJ-x9oU8_a6Zw034FZemK3pVHfmjnE5n3q6gJAdNwVo4DyGqtKaXNlkCJ3E_eTJZU7I/s1600/DSC_4483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvc59YAdtOU1gtWrzANyQtMxut08rrYGAjafFqyNXsaKDcJyXDMenCtdVQgpFAIqyo7jlQZh8qFJ-x9oU8_a6Zw034FZemK3pVHfmjnE5n3q6gJAdNwVo4DyGqtKaXNlkCJ3E_eTJZU7I/s320/DSC_4483.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of the friendly yet corrupt security guard</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Sunrise at Angkor Wat</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We heard that sunrise at Angkor Wat was a must-do, so we abided by a 4am wake up call, which was a challenge given that our usual hours were 9am-1am. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strangely enough, the guide that Mr Son had arranged for us that day informed us that he had 2 Red Bulls for breakfast because his sister was married the evening before and he had gotten very little sleep. I actually thought this sunrise experience was a little overrated as there were a lot of other tourists chattering about so it wasn’t exactly one of the euphoric moments where a bolt of clarity reveals itself upon you as you sit in amazement at the wonder before you. It was more of a moment where I struggled to maintain focus while the Chinese tourists beside us yapped at full pitch and our guide tried to overcompensate for his stupor with some fun-facts that weren’t that interesting.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnaNNyV0G2EucWq9nJcIf0ZngWLeoj-2OzIslPNhxjHRC1uGn_AMhgq7B_bZ3vs3UkNW1szFZNFtJz14vO9pQuAb9OAgFkuBBYyrk6KTm_LF47WP3wKD1yQ9aug2WDtk3vGZHgNC45u8/s1600/DSC_4722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDnaNNyV0G2EucWq9nJcIf0ZngWLeoj-2OzIslPNhxjHRC1uGn_AMhgq7B_bZ3vs3UkNW1szFZNFtJz14vO9pQuAb9OAgFkuBBYyrk6KTm_LF47WP3wKD1yQ9aug2WDtk3vGZHgNC45u8/s320/DSC_4722.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately this was the best shot I got. I wasn't kidding..I was half asleep.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Running into the Slowboat crew</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had traded Facebook messages with Ed and Maria (2 Brits we bonded with on the 2-day slowboat trip from Thailand to Laos. We discovered we were both in Siem Reap but prior to getting a chance to organize a get together, we actually ran into each other at a temple ! I LOVE when that happens. It also happened to us with our other slowboat friends Jeff and Christiane when we were in Phnom Penh. Dal and I were at a restaurant and somehow she spotted them walking past.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvTzOwVmELSGTvuNRTds_GFyvemZ3m0XqSrgGTYh_BGmJMWAEmH14hrA5Y-XuJxYb0PKw17yqKCYTBWZAqW1QapUnuDMDz90cd6OTxMbb-Zb4gYfAnAIMq2i1S9SX3Vq_XOzbbh1K2pTw/s1600/Slowboat+Crew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvTzOwVmELSGTvuNRTds_GFyvemZ3m0XqSrgGTYh_BGmJMWAEmH14hrA5Y-XuJxYb0PKw17yqKCYTBWZAqW1QapUnuDMDz90cd6OTxMbb-Zb4gYfAnAIMq2i1S9SX3Vq_XOzbbh1K2pTw/s320/Slowboat+Crew.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The slowboat crew debating the socio-political philosophies of 12th century Indochina.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Overall, Angkor Wat is simply splendid. It’s definitely worth the trip. However don’t feel obligated to spend 3 full days looking at temples. There are about 7 main ones and after that, they all somewhat blend together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dal and I spent one full day and 2 half days and that was more than sufficient for us to get our fill.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6gSwxMVzEH1VHmLOWBIaCAO2cBwkP5NZYoqGIwxx2VEIISTZdaDJYwPDCXtjEKtQtykDqsNWSc3F6k_ha0CvRaBkq4PaTU8iqle-5jP_YUG7FmVy1F58VKi-3i6tg25SHyKSvsKkfNQ/s1600/DSC_4528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6gSwxMVzEH1VHmLOWBIaCAO2cBwkP5NZYoqGIwxx2VEIISTZdaDJYwPDCXtjEKtQtykDqsNWSc3F6k_ha0CvRaBkq4PaTU8iqle-5jP_YUG7FmVy1F58VKi-3i6tg25SHyKSvsKkfNQ/s320/DSC_4528.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This group of musicians are victims of landmines. They were near Ta Prohm temple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhOuBPgmbYiPYR8mp7ZwxqqYSgNGgfnY7co6pj7OPW_D48PmIPX7fk69vqYM3RHxkirSprZ3nrUJwnQ46-Wo8PZVfExR0QKGQWtLBiQjprrMJh9o6_4i8Hpp8uWvPHttu6RrYG3HDycM/s1600/DSC_4531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhOuBPgmbYiPYR8mp7ZwxqqYSgNGgfnY7co6pj7OPW_D48PmIPX7fk69vqYM3RHxkirSprZ3nrUJwnQ46-Wo8PZVfExR0QKGQWtLBiQjprrMJh9o6_4i8Hpp8uWvPHttu6RrYG3HDycM/s320/DSC_4531.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta Prohm</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VlORoQcmesKfYO_Dk_ngcND-qYP-_uan9lAVjn489fFJXrTeUPPXg5ffAQ3GQygdueZCOGr8bv4F08DGVO_9wvRz3BHHFsBclWM8Y7bRDlPjZw-9ppzG__7jxREhDji4naDUgwK1guQ/s1600/DSC_4569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VlORoQcmesKfYO_Dk_ngcND-qYP-_uan9lAVjn489fFJXrTeUPPXg5ffAQ3GQygdueZCOGr8bv4F08DGVO_9wvRz3BHHFsBclWM8Y7bRDlPjZw-9ppzG__7jxREhDji4naDUgwK1guQ/s320/DSC_4569.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was able to hold that pose for about 4 seconds before it hurt.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj5zHFBRBcSxA0CHkSTXtKgNwqUozbNos8QAIQvBWMAOzalfULkwbNLe7MhbUqa6zBz_hIu7mS8nl5Qya2TAFGpadXhjhqH3zos9v7l9A-w7x81lda6POAdfn4vWiVzUKHn8hQIdKlm8/s1600/DSC_4578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj5zHFBRBcSxA0CHkSTXtKgNwqUozbNos8QAIQvBWMAOzalfULkwbNLe7MhbUqa6zBz_hIu7mS8nl5Qya2TAFGpadXhjhqH3zos9v7l9A-w7x81lda6POAdfn4vWiVzUKHn8hQIdKlm8/s320/DSC_4578.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta Prohm. One of the coolest temples because it's been left the way it was discovered in the 19th century, with trees growing through the temple.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu8aB3xUSODRatP1E0McskddMnRYF9Go_hO4-UfWI3q0upeH91mz95uRwZ6oRTqs2_0rx_ZhVbc9VbpzFHfkCeIuvRmBwGIPaM5v_duXO1tmnKtOl7_7qTWpb-luYyUylAYw4dAsyNyIs/s1600/DSC_4584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu8aB3xUSODRatP1E0McskddMnRYF9Go_hO4-UfWI3q0upeH91mz95uRwZ6oRTqs2_0rx_ZhVbc9VbpzFHfkCeIuvRmBwGIPaM5v_duXO1tmnKtOl7_7qTWpb-luYyUylAYw4dAsyNyIs/s320/DSC_4584.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr Son, our Tuk Tuk driver catching a nap while we're temple hopping.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1w14e5hZ3_0sHq3PsBK9twwNPDb-lEsO4iCtoCBRZForsRGmCCyr8RHbxInBoVZA_lyc5N7crAKxRHOCUFXzW5Ip8K_uTp6-n-h3coyZlJnJYmLMWPzdInE1lXQ3CRn37smhdaZpvFA/s1600/DSC_4587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1w14e5hZ3_0sHq3PsBK9twwNPDb-lEsO4iCtoCBRZForsRGmCCyr8RHbxInBoVZA_lyc5N7crAKxRHOCUFXzW5Ip8K_uTp6-n-h3coyZlJnJYmLMWPzdInE1lXQ3CRn37smhdaZpvFA/s320/DSC_4587.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyWheOiPik8eX5MRbhz_4WBW6I50jA3gi5ZdjWsbynrUEHH4S8JBOA6TEhQatee_QF7i6sjcXzdyFi2HFIS8wrn1TCbRrwuLfOulXWp75lDHmLk4uVXPN0AaPU9XHAvJCYIbes6NYlhM/s1600/DSC_4588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyWheOiPik8eX5MRbhz_4WBW6I50jA3gi5ZdjWsbynrUEHH4S8JBOA6TEhQatee_QF7i6sjcXzdyFi2HFIS8wrn1TCbRrwuLfOulXWp75lDHmLk4uVXPN0AaPU9XHAvJCYIbes6NYlhM/s320/DSC_4588.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing Ta Keo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqudPVavaQTcsTHUDpfkME-0q-p675XrswyeQfyCXTzA6BgwAB0Y2AS0gHnGrloaD6b8jVQxpA-dxbNngnIsxPoR-wb63dv3AOwdQ-fWwjEc5nv3TsZed3vkFiQLyuABwPYj2hd9_rFE/s1600/DSC_4599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqudPVavaQTcsTHUDpfkME-0q-p675XrswyeQfyCXTzA6BgwAB0Y2AS0gHnGrloaD6b8jVQxpA-dxbNngnIsxPoR-wb63dv3AOwdQ-fWwjEc5nv3TsZed3vkFiQLyuABwPYj2hd9_rFE/s320/DSC_4599.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta Keo. Notice the lack of hand railings and general safety.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnFNHMmYGVdPh9ncpUQL4cGP2aNBuWjV1NOUXErCFfBvFdVwTIT3usUxEEk9ild2VeXR-Yt_9R2Us5W8jQr2ChiyAeQedCkwh0vwsVPiNitxheHKRPDk-igzq6ZScOaAZ5Yb1vGC8vbk/s1600/DSC_4799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnFNHMmYGVdPh9ncpUQL4cGP2aNBuWjV1NOUXErCFfBvFdVwTIT3usUxEEk9ild2VeXR-Yt_9R2Us5W8jQr2ChiyAeQedCkwh0vwsVPiNitxheHKRPDk-igzq6ZScOaAZ5Yb1vGC8vbk/s320/DSC_4799.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone's obviously not using a moisturizer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-54841336515517384802011-01-26T08:25:00.003-05:002011-01-27T04:17:11.636-05:00Cambodia - The Good<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In our last post, I painted a pretty dismal picture about the history, present state and future of Cambodia. I hope you’ll find this post a bit more uplifting as I briefly recap our experiences with those brave souls who have successfully committed themselves to providing hope by creating schools, employment and awareness of the issues.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our friend Robin who volunteered with us in Rwanda suggested we visit Friends Restaurant when in Phnom Penh. So one afternoon, we lunched over there and read about all the good work the organization does (</span><a href="http://www.friends-international.org/"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.friends-international.org</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> ). We spent about $25 (which was easily the most expensive lunch we had had since we had left Canada) but it absolutely worth the price. It was continental food with a Cambodian flair and it was scrumptious. The restaurant is staffed with street teenagers who are being groomed for employment in the hospitality industry. Their attention to detail, genuine politeness and sense of self-esteem reminded me how a little faith and investment in an individual is sometimes all that’s required. After our lunch, we went next door to their training school where other students are learning various vocations. Upon learning the beautician students were offering manicures and pedicures for about $6, Dal sat down for an hour long pampering. She noticed I looked bored, so she arranged for a foot massage and a male pedicure for me. I sat down..and after about 2 minutes, my beautician called in for backup and her manager came to provide additional support. I have no idea why. Nor do I care to speculate. [Sidebar – What’s appropriate facial/vocal encouragement for a male to give a female masseuse during a massage? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m always fearful of either coming off as unappreciative of the effort or, at the other end of the spectrum, as a creepy, lecherous old man looking for extra services. I typically wait for them to ask how it is and respond with ‘very good’, a 60% smile and head waggle (if in India) to show my appreciation and then go back to closing my eyes. And that brings me to another question. When the masseuse is in front of you while massaging, where is a male supposed to direct his eyes? Ideally, I’d be focused on reading my BlackBerry or a magazine. If those aren’t available, I just close my eyes to avoiding staring at the masseuse. But then I worry about how blissful I look…again trying to avoid looking like creepy, lecherous man. Anyone have a definitive/helpful/funny answer to the etiquette ?]</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After our experience in Rwanda, Dal and I had decided to look for other volunteer opportunities during our trip. While in Luang Prabang, Laos we met a wise Dutchman named Leonard. He also went to McGill, had a career in advertising and consulting, was an avid globe-trotter and provided support for a couple of students and tuk-tuk drivers in Siem Reap, Cambodia (more details at </span><a href="http://angkortuktuk.net/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">http://AngkorTukTuk.net</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">) . We traded contact info and when we arrived in Siam Reap, he let us know he was staying at Seven Candles guesthouse. I googled this place and discovered it was run by Ponheary Ly who was a finalist for CNN’s 2010 Hero of the Year! As a tour guide at Angkor Wat, she witnessed children skipping school to sell souvenir trinkets to make money and this drove her to start her foundation (</span><a href="http://www.theplf.org/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">http://www.theplf.org</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">) . Step by step, she allocated her tips to children’s education and raised awareness to tourists. She now supports over 2,000 kids through four primary and five secondary schools. We called them up and told them we wanted to visit one of her schools for the day. The next day, we showed up at the guesthouse to meet Ponheary and her business partner, Lisa from Texas, and took an hour-long tuk-tuk ride into a village where one of the schools had been set up. The school reminded us a little bit of our Rwandan experience with Cathy and PREFER.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shiny, smiling faces eager to learn led by enthusiastic local teachers intent on helping the children with the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. Lisa explained some of the administrative and political finagling they’ve gone through in order to grow the foundation and acquire support from other major NGO’s such as the World Food Programme. Additionally we had an insightful discussion on the psyche of the Cambodian kids and parents and how poverty and living for daily survival drives their decision making. Recognizing the importance of children’s education is an evolving process itself amongst the communities. Writing this blog post reminds me that I’d love to connect Lisa with Cathy from Rwanda so that they can share their best practices on grassroots education programs.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Ponheary Ly and Dal</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of classes in the primary school learning English</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIH2BjjyVVBtlAgkHkkKGvt7xH16Sl_Huni2F5PDLglwE96m38zLv09HmBRu2EksF6pONSzThihzEqO8N4_cFdon5_B3oHFrZ9hgFVFe4zrNh5UqFA2rPBuEnE7fcA151FbfsKZyjwpo/s1600/DSC_4853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIH2BjjyVVBtlAgkHkkKGvt7xH16Sl_Huni2F5PDLglwE96m38zLv09HmBRu2EksF6pONSzThihzEqO8N4_cFdon5_B3oHFrZ9hgFVFe4zrNh5UqFA2rPBuEnE7fcA151FbfsKZyjwpo/s320/DSC_4853.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisa explaining to Dal about the area designated to teach farming</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A volunteer (we can't remember her name) from Minnesota introducing the kids to sock puppets</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My debut as a sock puppet king</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhum7d_NfK73vEXEwlzbRGwCQ0clbZ7_64Uiufelp1Tj0P7gIpUqQRlvq0keEeiWzolzzxpTT-7tvp5YrlwpQ-O3p08Gi1JgWxy0NbGON-kk0wn7rD86uRN18ZdelTLlQwMYm_V7FNPOJg/s1600/DSC_4879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhum7d_NfK73vEXEwlzbRGwCQ0clbZ7_64Uiufelp1Tj0P7gIpUqQRlvq0keEeiWzolzzxpTT-7tvp5YrlwpQ-O3p08Gi1JgWxy0NbGON-kk0wn7rD86uRN18ZdelTLlQwMYm_V7FNPOJg/s320/DSC_4879.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure if she's more unimpressed with my sock puppet, my raspy King voice or my Leafs ballcap.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1O1V2YRZEJtVJGHQIuMd410DbU9WG_pBFHCdEZWsbI3p4JTGhUR1MU3K-mOO_hW_EeKta1ksEYKMIeFS1_MdMzWyV_cUKjH_5_qLHdo-GFsGgIXc5am0Sxugr6yoBXdrhS6PvTJRK1hA/s1600/DSC_4866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1O1V2YRZEJtVJGHQIuMd410DbU9WG_pBFHCdEZWsbI3p4JTGhUR1MU3K-mOO_hW_EeKta1ksEYKMIeFS1_MdMzWyV_cUKjH_5_qLHdo-GFsGgIXc5am0Sxugr6yoBXdrhS6PvTJRK1hA/s320/DSC_4866.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pose on the left is pure poster bad-ass</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEtXQ6zCywWsWnpbY1wUbCsfUzwCmZWCp4UJeoLVZIHwFgsnlP9wPyzFd_J4IhFIcWb4eJIr_KeYHwK-FP2VriBiloBpkhitReqPJGhPEPBfR912zVITcJbmcBwRkxXjnt89TlKcNbHg/s1600/DSC_4873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEtXQ6zCywWsWnpbY1wUbCsfUzwCmZWCp4UJeoLVZIHwFgsnlP9wPyzFd_J4IhFIcWb4eJIr_KeYHwK-FP2VriBiloBpkhitReqPJGhPEPBfR912zVITcJbmcBwRkxXjnt89TlKcNbHg/s320/DSC_4873.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mackerel donated by Saudi Arabia. This came from the World Food Programme</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After leaving the school, Lisa took us to visit a family to inquire why one of their children had not been attending class lately. The child was confined to a wheelchair due to a case of Muscular Dystrophy. The family of six children were very poor although the father worked as a labourer to feed his family. The child in the wheelchair had a fantastic spirit and show off his skills manoeuvring a ball with his feet. Apparently the child hadn’t come to school because his wheelchair was broken so Lisa provided a bit of money to assist with getting the wheelchair repaired. </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_-ayXpDPqq0UyTux4SOm3Nba8UFGmrhARVC9SbYTFCliErOF4hgCKw5kbcZpefuWKRRwsVVfq87oxeUYuJeOokDHmQ3drl8WQI7EbEfj_wXyYlfEVGj74bp_pqTKLvuFbmn-xe_6A2s/s1600/DSC_4887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis_-ayXpDPqq0UyTux4SOm3Nba8UFGmrhARVC9SbYTFCliErOF4hgCKw5kbcZpefuWKRRwsVVfq87oxeUYuJeOokDHmQ3drl8WQI7EbEfj_wXyYlfEVGj74bp_pqTKLvuFbmn-xe_6A2s/s320/DSC_4887.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A clean-water project supported by Canadians !</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZhiAHRGoRcYEF53yajlMqmUQZmemygS99WoHilbtdXVyARi0nfKHZjD0ru9M23nT_fEjztuhh7KvzoiFMRjmbtP7MRYC5W1uCJeUh8f8tXndgshaqXVEfTJIHFTwbazREkXF8JstyzE/s1600/DSC_4888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsZhiAHRGoRcYEF53yajlMqmUQZmemygS99WoHilbtdXVyARi0nfKHZjD0ru9M23nT_fEjztuhh7KvzoiFMRjmbtP7MRYC5W1uCJeUh8f8tXndgshaqXVEfTJIHFTwbazREkXF8JstyzE/s320/DSC_4888.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The family house</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5cZAQyYWllHR8jNziJdte-c1nDf9WqyGvynb9AA1NTtpXI9zrLdtUqmttEMWlTPIRGFOc_j3xsEFS46OLBIkA9Ej0MbcemWN7OfjMMaSajBpX3P6xODVVITsTNtGsMCYk83cb_CDOABM/s1600/DSC_4894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5cZAQyYWllHR8jNziJdte-c1nDf9WqyGvynb9AA1NTtpXI9zrLdtUqmttEMWlTPIRGFOc_j3xsEFS46OLBIkA9Ej0MbcemWN7OfjMMaSajBpX3P6xODVVITsTNtGsMCYk83cb_CDOABM/s320/DSC_4894.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love the nonchalant lean against the wall. You lookin' at me ?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRGuS_CxZDCaP_0NnW4ACrzd7FrgIesDobG4MCgFD95oN9GOeLQ2dhTuK9bcryAVxpmV4Wu3hq-AdiNjqbSvNqHWaThs4T6OyH9pVWFWrPgOYXiavPJwCX1o90BFa4DgO0T46EmEQgHLg/s1600/DSC_4902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRGuS_CxZDCaP_0NnW4ACrzd7FrgIesDobG4MCgFD95oN9GOeLQ2dhTuK9bcryAVxpmV4Wu3hq-AdiNjqbSvNqHWaThs4T6OyH9pVWFWrPgOYXiavPJwCX1o90BFa4DgO0T46EmEQgHLg/s320/DSC_4902.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This child was amazing. Huge smile, huge spirit and nimble with his feet</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the tours we did in Siem Reap was of the Cambodian Land Mine Museum. My entire knowledge of landmines had been acquired through watching the movie “The Hurt Locker” which made this tour even more riveting. It’s estimated that there may still be up to six million land mines scattered across Cambodia which cause around 35 deaths a month. Already 40,000 people have lost limbs due to land mines giving Cambodia the dubious distinction of having the most amputees per capita (about one in every 275 people have lost a limb!). A treaty to ban land mines was signed by over 100 countries in 1997. However, the USA, China and Russia who are the main producers all refused to sign the treaty so production continues to this day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The museum (</span><a href="http://www.cambodialandminemuseum.org/"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.cambodialandminemuseum.org/</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">) was started by a former Khmer Rouge child solider, Aki Ra, who used to lay mines for the army. In 1995, he received UN training on removing mines and began to clear them from his country with simple tools such as a knife and stick. The museum is a place to show all the decommissioned mines, bombs and other weapons and the impact they’ve had on the country. Proceeds go to Cambodians that have suffered loss due to landmines. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aki Ra was also a finalist as a CNN 2010 Hero.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6R70-UR8LgQeAhnNJazu5vIbtX2aFdp3KwebMBWy6vf1iLXoR7-dbDVGec9KcFGRjVg4TwAEbGo-j873bcm0aYVg25i1yV6A-Q62hiKf-XRqepUuuZ2iqyUYhgEnSFEPYmMqcCI3DG3U/s1600/DSC_4625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6R70-UR8LgQeAhnNJazu5vIbtX2aFdp3KwebMBWy6vf1iLXoR7-dbDVGec9KcFGRjVg4TwAEbGo-j873bcm0aYVg25i1yV6A-Q62hiKf-XRqepUuuZ2iqyUYhgEnSFEPYmMqcCI3DG3U/s320/DSC_4625.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cambodian service station. Not exactly Shell or Petro Canada.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE1_GccO9TnmnQYHtBuJB8yVDMSNXVQApJmDa2Ov6HkAMHdK-J8HtQFZdSxY1c3_noIQRMpVyiY3_8sRmuw_uPpqQGilWHniIsnP7oNjE8W7dYDhvIV9KIuaseJGZLN-Ug2McVJPl8Nc/s1600/DSC_4628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE1_GccO9TnmnQYHtBuJB8yVDMSNXVQApJmDa2Ov6HkAMHdK-J8HtQFZdSxY1c3_noIQRMpVyiY3_8sRmuw_uPpqQGilWHniIsnP7oNjE8W7dYDhvIV9KIuaseJGZLN-Ug2McVJPl8Nc/s320/DSC_4628.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to fill the tank of our tuk-tuk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb_T9IhKIlidmxfv9iLEY3MgCzE_hxoyNe5hqidahR4pPUi-eNHPc4pyy3k8Mlz3rPh9O-FezfYEFBs1-RHKViysT75KNyoJ5udWsS7vyvWpGgUAHflgRrwORilbczIiNopLr9Lob_mE/s1600/DSC_4627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb_T9IhKIlidmxfv9iLEY3MgCzE_hxoyNe5hqidahR4pPUi-eNHPc4pyy3k8Mlz3rPh9O-FezfYEFBs1-RHKViysT75KNyoJ5udWsS7vyvWpGgUAHflgRrwORilbczIiNopLr9Lob_mE/s320/DSC_4627.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Child + wife beater shirt + messy bowl haircut + Fanta = awesomeness</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwb8ZPi9blTpIHSqY67Pbe48w8KINSnKMC_LR3LEdxc_NRrCOofKF0QS5VhMgPSu5ybm30M4ocX93DomAvwTSFyHHGB5VvEUR42PwcmrXw4wL2nL4PCqliNmapfC-anR8YI4WBwVblTY/s1600/DSC_4633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwb8ZPi9blTpIHSqY67Pbe48w8KINSnKMC_LR3LEdxc_NRrCOofKF0QS5VhMgPSu5ybm30M4ocX93DomAvwTSFyHHGB5VvEUR42PwcmrXw4wL2nL4PCqliNmapfC-anR8YI4WBwVblTY/s320/DSC_4633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXie2W-qg5eLy4t07NzNG4g28L_tzWjm4XnLBrhViGzHBJHb5eGLd_grSBlleRqPXdt_6k93hji2Q8D3kliOK2UkZ8q6U9dBr62BuOXQk_X4BDkhtyeDrbNUi-jlThpX7xI2PANbZvDSQ/s1600/DSC_4639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXie2W-qg5eLy4t07NzNG4g28L_tzWjm4XnLBrhViGzHBJHb5eGLd_grSBlleRqPXdt_6k93hji2Q8D3kliOK2UkZ8q6U9dBr62BuOXQk_X4BDkhtyeDrbNUi-jlThpX7xI2PANbZvDSQ/s320/DSC_4639.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A display of decommissioned bombs and mines</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While Cambodia has many extreme blemishes to its name, there is good to be found. We’re in complete awe of heroes like Ponheary Ly and Aki Ra who have dedicated their lives to daily swimming upstream in their efforts to improve the lives of others.</span></div>- DP</div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-20061523843001510132011-01-20T14:43:00.000-05:002011-01-20T14:43:07.670-05:00Cambodia - the Bad<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve never been a big history buff but this trip has me contemplating about subscribing for the History Channel. What’s particularly fascinating about SE Asia is that many of the seminal moments laden with civil war and mass bloodshed that define their socio/economic/political state have taken place during my lifetime or just before.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">South Vietnam and the US attacked Cambodia in the early 70s in an effort to weaken the rebel communist forces of the Khmer Rouge and the Viet Cong. These attacks backfired as it created 2 million refugees that streamed into the cities, many of whom who joined the Khmer Rouge with a strong resolve against the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1975, the Khmer Rouge, led by Pol Pot, took power and ironically renamed the country Democratic Cambodia. In the back drop, the nation was going through a devastating famine that required external assistance to overcome. Pol Pot, however, took a dastardly approach to this problem. He decided to evacuate the cities and focus solely on agriculture, through manual labour rather than technology assistance. He effectively eliminated arts and culture in his country by destroying temples, libraries and schools and looked to rid his country of all intellectuals so that he could maintain power. We visited a school which was converted into a prison and interrogation centre, called Security Prison 21 or S21. During the four years of Pot’s reign from ’75-’79 over 17,000 prisoners were tortured in S21 with the goal of getting them to give up names of their family and friends that could threaten the paranoid Pot. Again, it was mainly educated people and those from the previous regime that were subjected to this horrible treatment. Ethnic Chinese were cleansed, and those with glasses were targeted because they were likely to be educated or professional. Eventually, Pot even turned on some members of his own government whom he suspected may undermine him and sent them to S21. The forced confessions that prisoners gave were a mix of true events and fictitious accounts of their links to the CIA, KGB or Vietnam. One of the displays at S21 showed the last sentence of one prisoner’s particular confession: I am not a human being. I am an animal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPh3JnrOnlAElLsNAMTptbv6eH4BJZV_rKSfuvEVjEXn_nNa5iN3eJsLv9jy_oLMBSA2OIPVOtovR8e7OBzAN2anoUB5T5CAVtiaCXzbnNgXZwHKxlwCvevAgoGwQlsh1qdWC2hqUI-I/s1600/DSC_4376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPh3JnrOnlAElLsNAMTptbv6eH4BJZV_rKSfuvEVjEXn_nNa5iN3eJsLv9jy_oLMBSA2OIPVOtovR8e7OBzAN2anoUB5T5CAVtiaCXzbnNgXZwHKxlwCvevAgoGwQlsh1qdWC2hqUI-I/s320/DSC_4376.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">S21 Museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1P0d3H_NFa7QtEv9YyBGLzMPQy2zbaPbz8ZoN7g1N-PBmd12qvzlVxKrbJBE6uuSSkbIw7jjDbNl7pO6BP0vg8Tdi8FslqiQiDR565oNXLRby-W8xmLpDOLvs2dF_VXWkPqnqLQ7Tfio/s1600/DSC_4382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1P0d3H_NFa7QtEv9YyBGLzMPQy2zbaPbz8ZoN7g1N-PBmd12qvzlVxKrbJBE6uuSSkbIw7jjDbNl7pO6BP0vg8Tdi8FslqiQiDR565oNXLRby-W8xmLpDOLvs2dF_VXWkPqnqLQ7Tfio/s320/DSC_4382.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the room where prisoners were held and tortured</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLXGUdFxml71EPmTQSaL0B835IqEbz_35Nuuy9AJG8sO5FQWQ6w79x4irziTu_WOFrq8nDpXtgR7S0goBKEjhRQ-1KJ-PXVdVhxfKOrFUjj74aZ4uz-bolGcCG8Cng4SrsRFMoOJ8E4c/s1600/DSC_4383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKLXGUdFxml71EPmTQSaL0B835IqEbz_35Nuuy9AJG8sO5FQWQ6w79x4irziTu_WOFrq8nDpXtgR7S0goBKEjhRQ-1KJ-PXVdVhxfKOrFUjj74aZ4uz-bolGcCG8Cng4SrsRFMoOJ8E4c/s320/DSC_4383.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the prison cells</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsTBtNYodf7ipA9si6Lmge7HG0oFFo0fqUAYjLgH5SeNpJwkbLyhoC01C7TJF36h6a5UfiKrIhyphenhyphenhShsW2JYXrWNqxFQxFteVCIEaPpRN12SSvQw8xVLQY1OwaeIZbja5IC9OYLTLs9bs/s1600/DSC_4379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsTBtNYodf7ipA9si6Lmge7HG0oFFo0fqUAYjLgH5SeNpJwkbLyhoC01C7TJF36h6a5UfiKrIhyphenhyphenhShsW2JYXrWNqxFQxFteVCIEaPpRN12SSvQw8xVLQY1OwaeIZbja5IC9OYLTLs9bs/s320/DSC_4379.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is worth clicking on to enlarge. Simply barbaric.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After suffering from torture inflicted daily for 2-3 months, prisoners were taken to the Killing Fields where various weapons were used in their execution. They were then buried in mass graves in the grounds. We visited the Killing Fields which was another excruciating but necessary emotional experience. We saw the sites of the mass graves and read the descriptions of the savage executions that made us question how one human being could do this to another human being.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">During the Khmer Rouge reign, it’s estimated that over 2 million Cambodians or 25% of the population was extinguished. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The war only ended after Vietnamese troops invaded Cambodia in ’79. Yet due to corruption and very slow movement from the UN and the tribunals, it took 31 years before the first Khmer Rouge member was found guilty of war crimes and crimes against humanity and was sentenced to prison, shockingly only for 19 years.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very tasteful display to commerorate those who died in the Killing Fields</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the mass graves </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYrOWQoNQM9rpo99Vlpi2BzmalkEZxjTf1NNYBqqx_Gazbpr3r13r4q0DrEOJE_b_RHrsKufmBjsdA3VPvWGxU5sGwCKh-4kmEW2XXE73O9lA9BPMlpdOaD_8uBe4n7xXkdGN_mEbxdE/s1600/DSC_4446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYrOWQoNQM9rpo99Vlpi2BzmalkEZxjTf1NNYBqqx_Gazbpr3r13r4q0DrEOJE_b_RHrsKufmBjsdA3VPvWGxU5sGwCKh-4kmEW2XXE73O9lA9BPMlpdOaD_8uBe4n7xXkdGN_mEbxdE/s320/DSC_4446.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sickening</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having visiting Rwanda and learning about its scarred history, there are several parallels to be drawn about the genocides both countries have endured. Essentially both countries suffered due to the whims of barbaric government leaders that were driven by a large dose of paranoia and craved indefinite control at any costs. There were so many illogical decisions yet so much coldly-calculated brutality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However the post-war period shows some stark differences between the two countries that left us feeling incredible optimistic about Rwanda’s future and completely depressed about Cambodia. In Rwanda, they a president with 95% approval (some of it may be coerced) who’s intelligent, well-respected both internally and by foreign leaders and seems to have the well-being of the country and his people as his main priority. He wants Rwanda to reduce its dependency on foreign aid and for the people to have an urgency that drives them to do better. He’s a strong believer in education and is encouraging business development. His government has been quick to lead Rwanda to forgiveness so that the country’s collective psyche could move onto brighter days. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Conversely, Cambodia simply doesn’t have its shit together. It’s still in the infancy state of reconciliation. In the 80’s, the Khmer Rouge continued to exist and attack local resistant territories. This brought upon sanctions from the Western power and coupled with the impact of these attacks, reconstruction was halted and the country remained incredibly poor. It’s very dependent on its Asian neighbours, and goes as far as to outsource much of its commercial administration to Vietnam. It’s ranked 127<sup>th</sup> in the world audit corruption rankings (Rwanda was 51<sup>st</sup>) and we could sense the frustration amongst Cambodians. We spoke to a few locals who wanted to start businesses but kept running into roadblocks from the government. Education is available, but there’s not as much importance placed upon it as in Rwanda. And the sickening distribution of wealth is evidenced by the massive Lexus 570 SUVs which are apparently owned by government officials and NGO’s driving along the roads of Phnom Penh as poor children beg.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlVerzFS7soWh0kRoVFIPdZPn0wHw5baR17IQ47XB4GqPqIsUXLpqbAGrQLQTl4JLzIyeiRSb91fn68ui1ytFtM1Lp4kAFpsm0B8qL8eVbaDqSnWQ0P2OzZRG1eGb12nCSELZ9QYiB8Q/s1600/DSC_4457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlVerzFS7soWh0kRoVFIPdZPn0wHw5baR17IQ47XB4GqPqIsUXLpqbAGrQLQTl4JLzIyeiRSb91fn68ui1ytFtM1Lp4kAFpsm0B8qL8eVbaDqSnWQ0P2OzZRG1eGb12nCSELZ9QYiB8Q/s320/DSC_4457.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately I don't have a photo of the BIG 570's so this will have to do</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know this is a depressing post and it took a while to gather my thoughts for this one. I promise the next post, Cambodia – the Good, will be more uplifting as I’ll focus on some of the amazing people who are making a difference there. </span></div></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-73626932983696490192011-01-06T12:42:00.002-05:002011-01-06T12:47:44.131-05:00Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After the shopping spree in Hoi An, we flew further south to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), better known as Saigon, but also known as the Paris of the Orient as it was a key French colony. “The Fall of Saigon” or “Liberation of Saigon” (depending on your viewpoint) happened in 1975 at the conclusion of the Vietnam War and the city was soon renamed Ho Chi Minh City after the communist leader of the Viet Cong.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">One of the most disturbing tours we took on our trip was that of the War Remnants Museum. The Museum was actually opened in 1975 and was known as “The House for Displaying War Crimes of American Imperialism and the Puppet Government of South Vietnam”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An inoffensive, neutral name that rolls off the tongue eh? The name evolved into the Museum of American War Crimes, then the War Crimes Museum and finally the War Remnants Museum. The museum grounds had some of the large tanks and helicopters that the US Army used. Inside the museum were various themed rooms. Some showed domestic and international art and media portrayal of the war, with an obvious anti-US or pro-Viet Cong bias. One of the toughest exhibits we digested was the one focused on chemical warfare, covering the effects of Agent Orange, napalm and defoliants used by the US to remove the jungle advantage the Viet Cong fighters had. Horrid deformities continue to be experienced by the newest generation of Vietnamese whose parents or grandparents were harmed by the chemicals. Another exhibit covered the My Lai massacre which can only be described as a few maniacal American soldiers taking gross, barbaric liberties with Vietnamese civilian children, women and men. I’ve never felt that emotionally charged walking out of a museum before and when I asked Dal what she’s do if she saw an American at the moment, she angrily replied “I’d punch them in the face”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>[Sidebar :<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know a few of our American friends check our blog but since you’re all reasonable people, please rest assured you won’t be wearing knuckle imprints after our next encounter]</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Outside the War Remnants Museum</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAu811uAAaWOUrYSRzEABntlw63OKvhEMSPkqUL9l164PBZSU3Ai7PvEEmus9SR3u80JV6sMtMAMJDKx3q8618IS7AyJ5D-P8BMmgun8rPBY8KLTEt0uRXq_yZoPFwclyxaK__rUSLa7o/s1600/War+Museum+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAu811uAAaWOUrYSRzEABntlw63OKvhEMSPkqUL9l164PBZSU3Ai7PvEEmus9SR3u80JV6sMtMAMJDKx3q8618IS7AyJ5D-P8BMmgun8rPBY8KLTEt0uRXq_yZoPFwclyxaK__rUSLa7o/s320/War+Museum+1.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">One of the exhibits from the tours</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A couple of days later, we took a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels located at a pivotal jungle area where much fighting occurred. We were amazed to see the intricate 75-mile long network of tunnels that the Viet Cong used during combat to hide, eat, move, transport supplies, treat injuries and sleep. It was even used to lure and trap the burly Americans who would get stuck in the tunnels. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were several highlights of this tour including seeing the various methods of trapping the enemies and getting a chance to navigate through the tunnels. At the end of the tour, they have a shooting range where one can try firing an assault rifle. I chose to make my mark with an AK47 (10 bullets for about $12…I missed the target 9 times) for the first, and likely last, time I’ll ever shoot a gun. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Navigating the Cu Chi tunnels</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sniping the enemy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm85pmN7CyHU30IUVeRa0CZM1tx01XLnMg-30bC_7fScRcI6CgiJR0KUf523677qLxxKNqHTWi9RBq_qbr7Glrb8tHIf3WUAwZ5rTHvZPGCreOarUrhAPSiq5wy9H1fjwa0wyMnWYfpwU/s1600/DSC_4302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm85pmN7CyHU30IUVeRa0CZM1tx01XLnMg-30bC_7fScRcI6CgiJR0KUf523677qLxxKNqHTWi9RBq_qbr7Glrb8tHIf3WUAwZ5rTHvZPGCreOarUrhAPSiq5wy9H1fjwa0wyMnWYfpwU/s320/DSC_4302.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dal was the only one who fit into this tunnel. Note the blue Crocs.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Continuing the trend from Hoi An, we did some shopping. After searching 2 months for a rain-jacket that fit AND was under $100US AND was waterproof, Dal finally found a sweet North Face jacket for $22. I was astonished by the prices but given all the tags on the gear as well the conversations I had with people in the market, it seems to be legit. I wound up buying a pair of Croc shoes for $8 [Sidebar : Yes. I’m one of those people who have made fun of people who wore Crocs. Now that I own a pair and have worn them continuously for six weeks, they’re easily the most comfortable, versatile pair of sandals I’ve ever had. I bought a beige pair so they wouldn’t stand out too much. A Russian dude on our Cu Chi tunnels tour took a different approach and bought a pair of bright, garish aqua blue Crocs. What a douche.]</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lastly, I’d like to recap the strangest of the many massages we had in South East Asia. There was a sign in our hotel that massages were available for $8. The photo and text on the poster looked appropriate and the hotel was classy enough that we assumed we were in for a legit massage. So we spoke to the hotel front desk and ordered 2 masseuses for a couples massage at 9pm. At 9pm, the doorbell at our hotel rang and a petite Asian woman in a top and miniskirt holding a small towel and baby oil smiled at us. Dal and I looked at each other quizzically and then asked her where the other masseuse was. She didn’t speak a lick of English so all 3 of us went down to the front desk to find out what happened. The woman at the front desk didn’t speak much English but after a few minutes, we figured out the 2<sup>nd</sup> woman would be coming at 9:45pm. So we told the first girl to come back at 9:45 so that we could get our massages together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we returned to our room, Dal worriedly asked me if we should just cancel. I quickly soothed her doubts and assured her the massage would be relaxing and the experience would be fun. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sprinkled in a few foursome jokes which probably didn’t help the cause…but I couldn’t help myself. At around 10pm, both masseuses arrived and we got started. They basically laid a bath towel for each of us on the double bed and Dal and I lay there in our underwear. I had the petite masseuse who showed up early and she attempted to pulverize me for the next hour. Dal received a much gentler massage from her larger masseuse. At times, it was a little too gentle as the masseuse was deeply engrossed in a phone conversation and was basically delivering a half-assed one-armed massage. I looked at her..and then at my masseuse. Thankfully my masseuse clued in and asked her friend to put her phone away and get back to work. However Dal’s friend didn’t turn her ringer off and we heard beeps repeatedly throughout the hour. At another point…I felt my masseuse standing on my back so I told Dal to turn her head and take a look. She did and burst out laughing as mine was basically dancing a Thai jig while using the ceiling to maintain her balance. Sorry..no photos. At the end of the massage, we tried tipping $1 to each of them. Suddenly, their English skills improved dramatically. “Not enough. Give more please”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We gave an extra dollar each and sent them on their way. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The bed, prior to the doubles massage.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRcNQuHa7dAxMFs0XQGqAITgO6Onm7dNDm_jAhvaigeCKlnqnATt0qjDBNXV8PiCN8domFHjNLc0TZiIFaE8VvAGS0TSoTtQSJBg5xc3BNX1ljlS7Ky0DdW3uk0S0YKzOFt9uyIW1mi8/s1600/DSC_4218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRcNQuHa7dAxMFs0XQGqAITgO6Onm7dNDm_jAhvaigeCKlnqnATt0qjDBNXV8PiCN8domFHjNLc0TZiIFaE8VvAGS0TSoTtQSJBg5xc3BNX1ljlS7Ky0DdW3uk0S0YKzOFt9uyIW1mi8/s320/DSC_4218.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bonus photo : Note the striking resemblance to the real Mona Lisa. You can barely tell the difference eh ?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Overall, we enjoyed Saigon more than Hanoi because it was a much better walking city. Many, MANY people warned us about safety in terms of bag snatching and pick-pocketing so we took the necessary precautions and really enjoyed ourselves here.</span></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-51811532781804932072010-12-31T09:16:00.000-05:002010-12-31T09:16:12.333-05:00Shopping Spree in Hoi An, Vietnam<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">After Hanoi, we flew down the Vietnamese coast to Da Nang airport and then took a 30 minute car ride south to Hoi An. Many travellers told us about this sleepy French colonial town with scores of tailor shops. We had read in a few places that this was THE place to get custom tailored clothing made so we planned for a 4-night stay to give ourselves enough time for fittings and alterations. We checked into our hotel at night and rested up for a day of clothes shopping. Our hotel was the Southern Guesthouse and it was $24 a night (including wifi, complimentary breakfast for 2, shuttle into town). The amenities were great but staff service was only average. [sidebar : most of our hotels have been under $30 a night. In Asia, it’s easy for a couple of to find a place for less than $15 a night, but we prefer luxuries such as: no cockroaches, private bathroom, clean (or the appearance of clean) sheets, air-con and hot water. Our hotel booking process generally was done a couple of days in advance of arrival date : first go to TripAdvisor.com and get their ranked list of hotels under $50 in the city we’re staying and then cross-check with expedia or agoda.com to see if there was availability. Pretty painless and 90% of our hotels have been totally fine].</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">That night, I googled “Hoi An Tailors” and bookmarked a list of reputable tailors as well as tips on buying tailored clothes in Hoi An. The emphatic Rule #1 <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>: Don’t buy at the first shop you go into. I’ll come back to that point in a moment.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The next morning, Dal and I took the short shuttle from the hotel to the downtown area. About 10 seconds after we got off and started walking, a lady on her bike waved at us and we exchanged greetings. She asked us where we were from and we told her Canada. She confidently told us she had a cousin in Vancouver. And then she dropped the boom. She said she had a clothing shop just down the street and that we must come over because lots of Canadians buy their clothes there. Dal and I looked at each other and rationalized that we needed to start somewhere and her place was as good as any. And of course, we were just going to look…not buy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We followed the bike lady and soon arrived at her shop. She proudly showed a book of testimonials to me while another lady occupied Dal with all the fabrics and samples. Secretly, I admired their divide and conquer tactics. Well played, ladies. Fast forward an hour and we left the store having placed an order of a dress for Dal and a suit and 2 shirts for me. What happened to not buying at the first store? Well, we justified to ourselves that we bargained a decent enough deal ($125 for my suit and 2 shirts and $30 for a dress for Dal) and that we’d actually doubt the finished product if we paid any less. Also, the store was listed in google for solid quality AND of course the book of testimonials (which I actually checked to see if there was identical handwriting on multiple pages…there weren’t) pushed us over the hump. She told us to come back at 5pm that same day for our first fitting. We walked out of the store a little dazed and a little confused wondering how the hell we each had purchased clothing before 11am on the first day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbknmHXnWuYz5sgh8jNeLPyVBHF31uMwM7dlKY1HtA4gTq_4E2PVFE-xuLZnG4Mmh3_tN95G30PzTrR_GjWdcqip52kY6b1Vbs7R1ij6yjc2QhH4oSvUI6kDuI_0C6d8JxS2Q6FLKxyU/s1600/DSC_4155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbknmHXnWuYz5sgh8jNeLPyVBHF31uMwM7dlKY1HtA4gTq_4E2PVFE-xuLZnG4Mmh3_tN95G30PzTrR_GjWdcqip52kY6b1Vbs7R1ij6yjc2QhH4oSvUI6kDuI_0C6d8JxS2Q6FLKxyU/s320/DSC_4155.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaUJyJWd6rFRNYb4MzZOLMjLSwR6xAW5BLQ6rDRX2fZ1lF87myDKT-ev4rXrJ5WtKUgCxUBnicpvEAimEOcdeo5CRdF9vbZQHAOAvfxh3y9VBJ1FqEwNXvAv2H9FTZ2_ijSdaWM1M50o/s1600/DSC_4158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaUJyJWd6rFRNYb4MzZOLMjLSwR6xAW5BLQ6rDRX2fZ1lF87myDKT-ev4rXrJ5WtKUgCxUBnicpvEAimEOcdeo5CRdF9vbZQHAOAvfxh3y9VBJ1FqEwNXvAv2H9FTZ2_ijSdaWM1M50o/s320/DSC_4158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I’ll spare you the gory details on all the tailor visits, the fittings, the re-fittings, the runway walks showing off clothes. We’ll let the numbers speak for themselves:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of tailor shops we made purchases from: 4</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of suits for David: 3</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of shirts for David: 5</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of business outfits for Dal: 3</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of formal dresses for Dal: 2</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of winter coats for Dal: 1</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of pairs of shoes for Dal: 1</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Number of suitcases purchased to carry new clothes: 1 </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We justified to ourselves that we’ll need decent outfits for the job interviews we hope to get when we return to Canada. Additionally, it would be a wasted opportunity if we DIDN’T buy clothes that we likely would have bought in Canada at 3 times the prices. So even though we left Hoi An feeling somewhat embarrassed by our shopping spree given that our trip revealed such abject poverty and had taught us how few possessions were required to be happy, there was negligible buyer’s remorse.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Here are a few more highlights of Hoi An :</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Café Des Amis: A fun little restaurant along the waterfront that was started by Mr Kim who has been a guest chef for dignitaries in Europe. It was a fixed-menu (Seafood or Veg) consisting of whatever Mr Kim felt like making that day. The meal itself was quite tasty and ridiculously filling and reminded me of a poor-man Susur’s (a swank resto-experience in Toronto). Again, a testimonial book was brought out and our contribution wound up being a few haikus.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Row Boat Lady: On our second day, we walked along the waterfront and these frail, elderly women in these wooden rowboats asked if we wanted rides. We politely refused, partly due to the ominous raincloud about to unleash havoc and partly due to the fact that Dal felt it was just wrong for a lady the same age as her Nana to row my hulking mass around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next day, we walked by the waterfront again and I told Dal that if we saw the same lady, we should get a boat-ride from her. If she’s in the boat, she either enjoys it and/or needs the money and it would probably be a fun blog-worthy experience. As luck would have it, we heard her unmistakable nasal “boa-riiiiiiiiiide” proposition and we negotiated a 30 minute ride for 60,000 dong which is $3 (yes yes…Dal chided me for negotiating with an old lady so we gave her a generous tip). The ride itself was fun…she let us wear her traditional Vietnamese hat, and at one point, I did all the paddling while she enjoyed a well-earned rest. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcH2tNaKW6jfAYyGy2fy20N2RWBDKeEfUzznW0xvcVj7cq-3solZhYscwK96MC0epWQf6J7N-G7DpbVdiFFvpvtUWfYFqMiV8ABucgabrlvkpi1Ys5t0FuIacHIUZzastQIzbkeaouo28/s1600/DSC_4187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcH2tNaKW6jfAYyGy2fy20N2RWBDKeEfUzznW0xvcVj7cq-3solZhYscwK96MC0epWQf6J7N-G7DpbVdiFFvpvtUWfYFqMiV8ABucgabrlvkpi1Ys5t0FuIacHIUZzastQIzbkeaouo28/s320/DSC_4187.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUA6ljBeyVXC94_10Xu-CxUIMgVaZDNcY-ZLwiR3IzTKDDnig3hZApl0DLiQu0U95pUe3n0DMxX_MXVlLdHmOXjW-QS3-EgyYACaRW_ozRqht7ANYdE_jWBBpPs23aVYojSSHimJmxK8/s1600/DSC_4171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUA6ljBeyVXC94_10Xu-CxUIMgVaZDNcY-ZLwiR3IzTKDDnig3hZApl0DLiQu0U95pUe3n0DMxX_MXVlLdHmOXjW-QS3-EgyYACaRW_ozRqht7ANYdE_jWBBpPs23aVYojSSHimJmxK8/s320/DSC_4171.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4PTksTfK21J9_aAIzE6rdKfYhHggGi1XW_Sjg6OHXV_u3gkZOjTTwhNAFJ2-K__eMyevqbkdsLG-mKetJX9viaqAXFN5hr5wfmQjD3QnUb_eMvoCKGG5AobmxkFUE4Uk8cXc-_f1fLo/s1600/DSC_4168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb4PTksTfK21J9_aAIzE6rdKfYhHggGi1XW_Sjg6OHXV_u3gkZOjTTwhNAFJ2-K__eMyevqbkdsLG-mKetJX9viaqAXFN5hr5wfmQjD3QnUb_eMvoCKGG5AobmxkFUE4Uk8cXc-_f1fLo/s320/DSC_4168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ant infestation : Being suckers for snacks, we had purchased bags of sugared shredded coconut and other goodies which we left in the hotel room one afternoon. More specifically, Dal left one bag open on the nightstand and apparently I had left a bag open near the laptop, upon which I had dropped some of the powdered sugar during a late night blogging session. When we returned to the room, Dal was stunned to see a small lizard in her bag. I proceeded to give her a stern lecture on the hygienic dangers of not cleaning up after herself. After my rant had run out of steam, I opened up my laptop and discovered about 50 small ants darting in and out of the crevices of the keys and on the screen. They had also spread to the surrounding areas on the bed and appeared to be building civilizations in my knapsack, on our rainjackets and in one of the trolley bags. After Dal summarily mimicked my rant, we spent the next few hours on clean-up duty and did our best to exterminate the little buggers. In a way, that experience was good for us because it somewhat prepared us emotionally for a cockroach infestation which we’d encounter later on the trip. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Hoi An was a delightful highlight for both of us thanks to the shopping, the food, the sights, the smiles and the old lady in a rowboat. </span></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-56440381004565590122010-12-10T15:05:00.000-05:002010-12-10T15:05:51.093-05:00A Cruise on Halong Bay<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of the major travel websites strongly recommended an overnight stay on a junk cruiser in Halong Bay, so we got our hotel in Hanoi to organize a trip for us, and the next day we were off at 8am on a 4 hour bus ride to Halong City (a dump) where we’d board our boat for Halong Bay (paradise).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow, the captain of our boat was an hour late (which led to a round of Captain Stube-id jokes) but by 2pm, we were on our cruiser and ready to set sail for a trip around the hundreds of limestone karsts and isles emerging spectacularly from the clear blue water. </span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipcWFHydflUIpO7SoI5XjszcDfZAwooqAJ0dWbJjJT2CCQZUZZTJs7-S6PNYDFuzvGciJXOvM5ZsM7F4H4-lPcepQUW88uPtQagKI4i5KFb3wpnsPwu4KJhSpGFD7Fx2wmWjGfPX_c2mA/s1600/DSC_4152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipcWFHydflUIpO7SoI5XjszcDfZAwooqAJ0dWbJjJT2CCQZUZZTJs7-S6PNYDFuzvGciJXOvM5ZsM7F4H4-lPcepQUW88uPtQagKI4i5KFb3wpnsPwu4KJhSpGFD7Fx2wmWjGfPX_c2mA/s320/DSC_4152.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Amber Gold Cruise boat</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The junk cruiser was a neat experience. They served copious amounts of tasty Vietnamese food, had a nice deck on the top floor and comfortable cabins. The view from the deck was gorgeous. We were also able to kayak for a couple of hours in Halong Bay, which translates into Descending Dragon Bay is a UNESCO World heritage site and it’s difficult to compare to anything else I’ve seen. It’s the backdrop of James Bond’s “Tomorrow Never Dies” flick. Some of the islands are actually completely hollow and we able to into one of the biggest ones, Hang Dau Go, which is a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>massive cave that contains stalactites and stalagmites as well as 19<sup>th</sup> century French graffiti.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvQzWyifywX7rWNtDd4d_9DrBKMRJu4OPGfnAGJDlHRg59J58Dc4eYyckYAI8j0udhR_-Dx4uf5Ycyitx5p6J-_PkvazwMu3GqTbFbAW9GzpnbtQex7IHeh8FkYa-Mnc1Ys0uOQV2Q-I/s1600/DSC_4141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvQzWyifywX7rWNtDd4d_9DrBKMRJu4OPGfnAGJDlHRg59J58Dc4eYyckYAI8j0udhR_-Dx4uf5Ycyitx5p6J-_PkvazwMu3GqTbFbAW9GzpnbtQex7IHeh8FkYa-Mnc1Ys0uOQV2Q-I/s320/DSC_4141.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Titanic moment</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT1qDjm1kClSLBtIBnK3FOg6UphmO3pT3K1ORyTWrlkT0i9qbZuXEWq0XL0xTd6VQWo5I2wG9wUfeNjOH6wu3Ld_xdaJld9DbDCaDyUyjNFw6u8cg1-Tycsn8VFKHglGSQ3y0N8FDl5Q/s1600/DSC_4142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT1qDjm1kClSLBtIBnK3FOg6UphmO3pT3K1ORyTWrlkT0i9qbZuXEWq0XL0xTd6VQWo5I2wG9wUfeNjOH6wu3Ld_xdaJld9DbDCaDyUyjNFw6u8cg1-Tycsn8VFKHglGSQ3y0N8FDl5Q/s320/DSC_4142.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilling on the deck</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWavSuR6q9X-WEte_V5cpl7GToBdSU_Y0HxWvi9vdSLbYqQZ6zKb8hfAizjQad8pYKwcQ3pNWUnQrZTNnN9hGeqAnft2yA7nbWgYZiz9QxnT9H04pknCCBoxq18eDcNdpUL1fqDteBVQ/s1600/IMG_3113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWavSuR6q9X-WEte_V5cpl7GToBdSU_Y0HxWvi9vdSLbYqQZ6zKb8hfAizjQad8pYKwcQ3pNWUnQrZTNnN9hGeqAnft2yA7nbWgYZiz9QxnT9H04pknCCBoxq18eDcNdpUL1fqDteBVQ/s320/IMG_3113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from our kayak</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of our boat-mates was a Vietnamese man who had moved to the US in the 1970’s and was now returning to Vietnam for the first time. The amazing thing was that he was travelling with his in-laws and their family, none of whom he had met before…and his wife was back in the States ! His English was pretty good and he reminded me a lot of famous poker pro Scotty Nguyen because of his affable, engaging personality and his love for Tequila Sunrises regardless of time-of-day. Although his in-laws didn’t speak much English, it appeared that they all bonded quite well over several rounds of drinks</span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3do5DYfGB67ydDKUXMpizZpl8FM3xXZnCXUCca73Ho9vrzqDBJDU1RoWrKmJbei5SuCx3W_YHyIDMbnarzVrg33GjCa1qMtgWnQifDsatYtmXy73zfgorNPryE5GJ9vq6gnuwPdCQc4/s1600/DSC_4151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3do5DYfGB67ydDKUXMpizZpl8FM3xXZnCXUCca73Ho9vrzqDBJDU1RoWrKmJbei5SuCx3W_YHyIDMbnarzVrg33GjCa1qMtgWnQifDsatYtmXy73zfgorNPryE5GJ9vq6gnuwPdCQc4/s320/DSC_4151.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scotty Nguyen loves ya baby !</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We also bonded with a Queb</span></span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">ec couple, Roger and Catherine that have taken a year off to cycle around various countries. They had completed 3 months in Turkey and were making their way through Vietnam before headed to AUS/NZ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their fantastic blog, written in French, is found at </span><a href="http://rogeretcatherine.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://rogeretcatherine.blogspot.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> and it's worth a click just for the photos. Similar to at least half of the Canadian long-term vacationers we’ve encountered on our travel, they are noble school teachers and we enjoyed sharing our Rwandan teaching experiences with them.</span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliPQVU18FAEP1S1o_UlAOYZrGxsSRC4Vj__CI3yuUL_lbIhEDjdPZOdPh7JMNpFKjDzwixUdzcCM0C4NFILNbUFGnTKtBdw1WEIjKsr5DJHRcnSg_-2ZZO3aYP-5Z3ehdPypnuTq2xaI/s1600/DSC_4132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliPQVU18FAEP1S1o_UlAOYZrGxsSRC4Vj__CI3yuUL_lbIhEDjdPZOdPh7JMNpFKjDzwixUdzcCM0C4NFILNbUFGnTKtBdw1WEIjKsr5DJHRcnSg_-2ZZO3aYP-5Z3ehdPypnuTq2xaI/s320/DSC_4132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch with Roger and Catherine</td></tr>
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</div><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Speaking of Quebec..Habs-Leafs game this Saturday and I'm thrilled to say I'll be watching an internet feed of it from my McGill buddy Venka's place in Bangalore at 5:30am Sunday morning ! It'll be the first hockey I'll be watching all season and of course I'm a huge Leafs fan and he's a big Habs fan. For inspiration, I'll be playing this video regularly leading up to game time. <span style="color: #0e774a;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmq7WGF55yQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmq7WGF55yQ</a></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
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</div></span>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-24617323962807592452010-12-08T14:29:00.000-05:002010-12-08T14:29:48.768-05:00Back when we were in 'Nam<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">After five soothing days in Luang Prabang, Laos we flew to Hanoi to begin our tour of ‘Nam (yes…I love telling stories of back when I was in ‘Nam). We arrived in the evening and were picked up by two guys our hotel had sent for us. For the first 15 minutes of our ride, I was a little suspicious because they spoke virtually no english, didn’t really smile, drove fast...and there were TWO guys. Why would two guys be necessary for a hotel pickup of two people?? After a while though, my fatigue set in and I began to doze off. Dal quickly woke me, apparently stricken by the same suspicions and warned me NOT to fall asleep during this ride. (Sidebar : When travelling, I recommend a small dose of paranoia. 99.9% of the world are good, honest people willing to help, so too much distrust leads to unnecessary stress and missed opportunities. But too little caution and you leave yourself exposed to thieves, scam-artists, and filthy hotel bathrooms). We wound up reaching safely, and I was glad I stayed awake because it was our first experience of truly crazian (crazy-asian) driving at its finest. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We did a day tour of Hanoi which was pretty good. Our tour mates included: a precocious Argentinian named Ignacio (I had mixed feelings about him. I loved that his nickname was Nacho (Nachoooooooooooo !!) but despised him for guessing my age to be 46 years old), 2 elderly Vietnamese people that kept wandering off and an elderly Australian gentleman with a younger Singaporean wife who were fun. We visited Ho Chi Minh’s Palace grounds. For clarification : Ho Chi Minh was the leader of the Vietnamese independence movement and the leader of the Viet Cong and his palace grounds were in Hanoi which is in the North; Saigon (in the south) however has been renamed Ho Chi Minh City or HCMC). Uncle Ho, as he’s affectionately referred to, is still revered as a national hero and maintains almost god-like status by the communist government and many Vietnamese people. This is why I was a bit aghast when Dal asked our tour guide if he had had many mistresses. </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYnn3QckHdsF3f2Ks33OVdgfCG8Jocrk26ilBgT6PmQGL_uK6Q1meDOKtjUU9JkkAxEkMKf_hf63FTrOa0gbZ7xyKRG18sQUrKUzeQsbsyl6xfduUharNqXx36yJ9Ca5H80XOiUlY7GY/s320/DSC_4021.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The older wandering Vietnamese couple, Nachooooooo and us</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Later in the tour, we were taken to a 6-story building where we saw how a piece of pottery was created, shaped, coloured, polished and completed into a finished product..to be sold at your local dollar store. Actually..the prices were quite high compared to the Dollar Store, however these were genuinely handmade. One pet peeve of mine about city tours in Asia is that you’re inevitably taken to a place where you feel almost obligated to purchase something. We obligingly purchased 2 mugs – once shaped like a dog, and the other shaped like a mouse. Dal is planning several tea parties when we get back to show off her mouse mug. </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dal creating on a masterpiece</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They listened to hip hop as they worked</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$5 US ?? Do you know how much I could get this for at a Scarborough Dollar Store ?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We were then taken to another museum that used to be the University of Literature. To be honest I don’t remember much about it, but it was our first sighting of Confucius statues, which of course led to rounds of "Confucius says" jokes. Outside the museum, we encountered a slew of postcard and book vendors including the boy below. We wound up buying “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Khaled Hosseini for $5 which is a brilliant yet disturbing novel set in Afghanistan. </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confucius says </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I honestly can't remember the background..but I liked the photo..</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really sweet kid selling postcards and novels outside the museum.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsB8TZVTSqgY1JNPXmotYvLpG6EJ4QqH37Dc8a5_3V_zDlbKVeuAxyFGNpm2DD35lZGIjAYRzR2tJ1ptPG59silVF9mLz97PKMINXPCHb70ghtYQWCNMRS5iLYnEZxhSWOve7hoXpsOD8/s1600/DSC_4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">We’d be remiss if we didn’t mention the wonderful staff at the Hanoi Guesthouse. It was only $22 a night and came with breakfast (a big bowl of Pho or bread/jam). The room was fine (although it was on the 4<sup>th</sup> floor and had no elevator) and laundry was reasonably priced and it was in a location close to the action. But what was truly phenomenal was the staff that went above the call of duty regularly when it came to coordinating trips, flights and ensuring our comfort. They always had a genuine large smile on their face and we’d strongly recommend this hotel to anyone visiting Hanoi. Hanoiguesthouse.com is their website.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In terms of food, the hotel recommended</span> a restaurant down the street that served the best deep fried shrimp I’ve ever eaten. I was sooo tempted to try the deep fried crickets but decided against it as we were going on an overnight cruise to Halong Bay the next day and I didn’t want an upset stomach. We also went to another restaurant, Quan An Ngon, recommended #3 out of 225 on Trip Advisor which reminded me a little of the Movenpick chain in that there were several types of cuisines available. </span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Ironically, this was also the only restaurant in Asia that didn’t have spring rolls...because they ran out of them…at 8pm ! How does that happen in Vietnam ??</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt -2.25pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: inherit; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Hanoi was actually one of our least favorite cities on our SE Asia trip. The main reason is that we thought it was a terrible walking city. Hanoi is a city with around 6 million people and 3 million motos and they’re everywhere. They’re parked all over the sidewalks, they’re weaving down the road at breakneck speed or they’re driving along the edge of the road in the wrong direction. Crossing the street is an experience that you almost have to psyche yourself up for. I harkened back to the days of playing computer Frogger as my inspiration. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dal’s strategy was to hold my hand, close her eyes and hope for the best. Hanoi was also a stark contrast to the clear air and tranquil, leisurely atmosphere of Luang Prabang so the culture shock may have caught us off guard. Hanoi’s a place worth checking out, but we’re glad we only spent a couple of nights there.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLhpllU2oGRD3BTp90yVb1x45g1KA3qaMStGnQANWjZtioNVEgtnaZw1SpVqdUnscGG5BgneP4prFANmZeyNo7Luxt8sdA6GxcATVTzAcz_ZYD9E0Bq-QAQfoj2w5pBZS44v-oDdU78E/s1600/DSC_4450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLhpllU2oGRD3BTp90yVb1x45g1KA3qaMStGnQANWjZtioNVEgtnaZw1SpVqdUnscGG5BgneP4prFANmZeyNo7Luxt8sdA6GxcATVTzAcz_ZYD9E0Bq-QAQfoj2w5pBZS44v-oDdU78E/s320/DSC_4450.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Motos. They're EVERYwhere !!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt -2.25pt;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;">- DP</span></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-38041125987281495962010-12-01T04:34:00.001-05:002010-12-08T14:57:24.340-05:00Elephant Trekking<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Among the tourist attractions in Luang Prabang, Laos is the Elephant Mahout course – a 1-day or 2-day excursion where you get to ride elephants mahout style (i.e. on their shoulders, the way their trainers do), learn their commands and then take them down to the river for a group bathing event.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We arrived at the elephant camp and were duly outfitted with our ‘mahout gear’, a rather unflattering matching denim set of three-quarter length shorts and a shirt. ‘Better their clothes than mine’ was my thought process and I ignored the hideousness of my outfit and resolved to have a good time.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The day started with an hour long ride on the elephants in the traditional elephant harness. This was likely to get us used to the size of the animals and used to the way in which they walk. After the ride, we sat down to a simple lunch and a nap, which was occasionally disturbed by the camp cat who insisted on chewing on our clothing while we slept. After swatting it away about 10 times it finally took the hint and fell asleep on a nearby pillow. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After lunch came the moment to ride the elephants bare-back as it were. The ellies were lined up and we were encouraged on clamber off the platform and sit on their necks/shoulders and basically hold on for dear life. Except there was nothing to hold on to. My first few moments on the elephant were terrifying. Though the elephant herself was a lovely, gentle, obliging creature, I was concerned that I might lose my balance and then have to deal with a rather far drop to the ground. My assigned mahout sat behind me (in the seat normally reserved for tourists) and assured me it would be alright. About 30 mins into the walk he asked if I was doing ok. ‘How nice of him’ I thought, and replied affirmative. At which point he promptly took a nap and left me and the elephant to our own devices. Thanks fully my old girl was a peach, unlike Dave’s elephant who had a phobia of elephant dung and would veer off the trail and plough into the forest to avoid having to step over the dung of the elephants before here. As a result, Dave and his mahout were scratched and bloody after their walk, having ploughed through so many thorny trees. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Riding an elephant is a strange experience. It takes a bit of balance to sit comfortable on their shoulders as they walk, and as you lean on their heads for support, you realize how incredibly wiry the little hairs on their heads are. Sometimes, they flap their ears, which provides a lovely breeze as your legs are neatly tucked behind their massive ears as they walk.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The highlight of the day was taking the elephants down to the river to bathe. Mine elephant obligingly sat down and raise one knee, allowing me to clamber up her knee and onto her back (it’s not as graceful as it sounds – the mahout did a fair bit of pulling and shoving to get me up there as well). Dave’s elephant refused to sit down, but did put up her knee. She then proceeded to walk away while he was still climbing up her, leaving him dangling off a moving elephant until the mahouts managed to shove/hoist him up. Fun for all, especially the elephant. Here's a clip of it : <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQ6hNw5OdPc">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQ6hNw5OdPc</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The elephants love the water and once they’re in, they proceed to get playful. In my case this meant showering me with cold river water from her trunk. In Dave’s case, it meant dunking under the water entirely, leaving Dave to wonder when he might fall off his crazy elephant and how he would get back up. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the end of it all, we’d had a fantastic day. We politely ignored the fact that NO safety briefing had been included in the tour. So we devised our own safety measures which included hanging off the elephants ears and bellowing for help should something unexpected happen. One thing we did notice was that none of the elephants were prodded with elephant hooks. Instead, the mahouts used loud voices and small branches broken from trees to coax them forward. It was nice to see the animals are treated with kindness and gentleness and made the experience a positive one all around. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>- DalDal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-87373988348067965302010-11-20T12:13:00.002-05:002010-11-20T22:27:36.610-05:00The Slowboat to Luang Prabang, Laos<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When first told to take the ‘slow boat’ to Luang Prabang, Laos from Thailand, I was skeptical about the value we’d get from sitting aimlessly on a boat 2 days in a row. I wasn’t about to do it. At the best of times I don’t like boats – I find the sensation of being away from land disconcerting. Maybe a part of this is because I’m not very comfortable around deep water. And my resolutions to become a stronger swimmer have still seen no action (though, when I get home, I’m COMMITTED to swimming at least twice a week and finally learning a freestyle stroke, as I’ve yet to see anyone breast-stroke their way out of a dangerous ocean situation). </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">So when Dave suggested we take the slow-boat, I was appalled. I alternated between protesting and pouting, but the fact of the matter was, the only other option was a 12 hour mini bus ride over horrible roads. The slow boat it was.</span></div></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkNKxpwUb5RWwV1g5j3JaWVnemvjm2d58m9cdrRNtP5F1E4s2CTGcJxiwrzhqa-jwwzb1dlFquSLwVMYzhdvC6c3xMSTL9pW9us98t3Nu_Wy6DDpvR5RjZ1biHFBeKMqHM9TTdRR1nIk/s1600/IMG_3014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkNKxpwUb5RWwV1g5j3JaWVnemvjm2d58m9cdrRNtP5F1E4s2CTGcJxiwrzhqa-jwwzb1dlFquSLwVMYzhdvC6c3xMSTL9pW9us98t3Nu_Wy6DDpvR5RjZ1biHFBeKMqHM9TTdRR1nIk/s320/IMG_3014.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where we boarded the slowboat. We still bave no idea why all the boats were crammed so tightly together.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXI4Nmg-iwuJ8tiHLlq5RYCq5BL_X05LHFapIp676Ehegwq0S16AJdu1e-4phXGBElNC3amgxv7LLMA38MdU2t6jopT_XZt4cokzN5_1kf_SGQSNDxEq0TfvAhjA6NOjJRnnjjzfWpIjY/s1600/DSC_3839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXI4Nmg-iwuJ8tiHLlq5RYCq5BL_X05LHFapIp676Ehegwq0S16AJdu1e-4phXGBElNC3amgxv7LLMA38MdU2t6jopT_XZt4cokzN5_1kf_SGQSNDxEq0TfvAhjA6NOjJRnnjjzfWpIjY/s320/DSC_3839.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our many stops</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaudkJcD7x-JIR_Vi-OAuvzte0eBHGQjVpqTi6_oQdWWuTgLnXAH_ntAy1QPHyoyDZn7Wqy4G6nqZvepw1kHY8FUnPmDkp04tVFvxmt4YjKnp8fhKhFg_qGX8b14UE89v1XTSbO2Bh5yI/s1600/IMG_3004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaudkJcD7x-JIR_Vi-OAuvzte0eBHGQjVpqTi6_oQdWWuTgLnXAH_ntAy1QPHyoyDZn7Wqy4G6nqZvepw1kHY8FUnPmDkp04tVFvxmt4YjKnp8fhKhFg_qGX8b14UE89v1XTSbO2Bh5yI/s320/IMG_3004.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy gave us a ride on his speedboat from Chiang Khong, Thailand to Xuai May, Lao, the night before we got on the slowboat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We arrived at the pier that morning and saw a host of docked boat, waiting for the latest roundup of tourists. Apparently, 15 years ago, the slow boats were used to transport locals from Huay Xai to Luang Prabang. However, over the years Luang Prabang has been named a world heritage site and the tourists now flock there, so we were surprised to see our boat was occupied by a 90% tourist majority.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got on the boat by literally walking up a plank from the ground to the boat. Suddenly I got vertigo and barely clambered up with my backpack on my back. Once we entered, we noticed the ‘luxury’ seats were all taken. At the front of the boat were about 16 seats that looked like they once belonged in a minivan. Beyond these seats were wooden benches (with backs, thank goodness) for a capacity of about 100 people seated comfortably.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We had been pre-warned about the wooden benches and had brought cushions with us to soften the ride. Mine was a graduation pillow that said ‘congratulations!’ on it, Dave’s had a pattern with little blue bears, but the most entertaining was the pillow of one of the friends’ we made, which read ‘You fill my little world light up’ and had a little bear hugging itself. The pillow belonged to Jeff the Aussie, and perhaps it was what made Jeff seem so approachable to us!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within the first 20 minutes of being on the boat, we saw one Frenchman fall into the baggage hole in the floor (he ended up with a bloody shin, and immediately a swat team of moms surrounded him with bandages, cotton and lao lao – the local whisky). We also saw quite a few tourists nearly stumble off a step on the boat, and Dave bashed his head against the ceiling while trying to get in. No blood though, so no attention or Lao Lao for him, unfortunately. ‘This is a death trap’ remarked one tourist’ ‘And we haven’t even left yet’ quipped another. And that’s how we made friends with Ed, Maria and Jeff. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The 3 were travelling together and we figured if we were going to be trapped on this death ship together for such a long period of time, we should make friends. This turned out to be a wise decision and they are LOVELY people who we spent the next few days with in Luang Prabang, and later met up with, through coincidence and good fortune in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, Cambodia. Soon others joined the group as there were attracted by our little game of ‘Murder’ we had started playing as well as some card games where the loser had to eat the Blueberry-Hazelnut flavoured Pringles chips (yes..they tasted exactly as you think they do). There were Simon and Rosie who are also brilliant people (travelling for over a year !) who we went Elephant trekking with in Luang Prabang. And we rescued Christiane from the clutches of Frodo, the ship hobbit (background – we noticed one very loud American tourist who took off his shirt and had a nipple ring as well as a belly button ring. He was quickly christened ‘Lord of the Rings’ which then morphed into Frodo.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t worry – we didn’t make friends with Frodo so there is a slim to none chance he will ever read this blog.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> This poor wounded guy tripped into the luggage compartment that the Nurse mom is standing in !</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImFnV4YXLQ31gyr0t13QTcApNjUxwZnKV0IZCiyTXo7iWbTexdvI8MTamBQAT0jSsqZQJ_dy1vT6N8KZmn9ddLdY4EH-NwQ1D8qiJoP1Rg55MFm42eDWPArQhb5kVCVqF_ovSdckMp5U/s1600/IMG_3019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImFnV4YXLQ31gyr0t13QTcApNjUxwZnKV0IZCiyTXo7iWbTexdvI8MTamBQAT0jSsqZQJ_dy1vT6N8KZmn9ddLdY4EH-NwQ1D8qiJoP1Rg55MFm42eDWPArQhb5kVCVqF_ovSdckMp5U/s320/IMG_3019.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a couple of the stops, local kids would board the boat selling chips and beer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkBEIvrAzk4bO28HzEUUaygpcSTHCVIZOj9iKj_IMz2CZBqBtn8KsbxzoZdUkDX-Tl5Yj4rE8pkwPi2S1JJfqLCkhCcin8b2vxmDfT852Uaa00Q91eF3qymuiVdalr47vPejwcr0tcTg/s1600/DSC_3847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkBEIvrAzk4bO28HzEUUaygpcSTHCVIZOj9iKj_IMz2CZBqBtn8KsbxzoZdUkDX-Tl5Yj4rE8pkwPi2S1JJfqLCkhCcin8b2vxmDfT852Uaa00Q91eF3qymuiVdalr47vPejwcr0tcTg/s320/DSC_3847.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An intense game of cards. Loser eats Hazelnut-Blueberry Pringles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Turns out, in the company of good people the 2 day boat trip was a very fun experience. The Mekong River is absolutely beautiful, with densely forested hills rising by the water’s edge. And the boat moved smoothly enough that there was practically no sea sickness on the boat. In terms of danger, I’d say it was pretty low. While I didn’t see life jackets on the boat, in the rare event something did happen, the river is narrow enough for the average swimmer to make it safely to either bank. And I didn’t see any crocs to speak off, so I assume swimming would be pretty safe, as long as you didn’t ingest the water. Luckily, we didn’t have to find out.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhCWwvRWDOpk-geLYkX9UC3iV2huvZEOlrMMUwaLdz1aOiEvKmyxLOUyxyy_by4uiV-HwzAKTvLKWY3WXj75mTpb0_Cn5AA2INfAu3B4xYsnr4L0XrnWTmgKwHadDOOI2XOVvCOpyYdE/s1600/DSC_4211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhCWwvRWDOpk-geLYkX9UC3iV2huvZEOlrMMUwaLdz1aOiEvKmyxLOUyxyy_by4uiV-HwzAKTvLKWY3WXj75mTpb0_Cn5AA2INfAu3B4xYsnr4L0XrnWTmgKwHadDOOI2XOVvCOpyYdE/s320/DSC_4211.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bum's saviour.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No caption required.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgDQjM7HYt1mwoOdCyW_m2P4FsvJetZMLRFL8HOC2Cp44YlFGebNfsFoxG1sKZ2vtohbjJNktL7HdXdz9H2yU3P3yKsZO7_h3AfjdSw7pvgReg0QO9ufuaU9YT0YxOEfpQCXnlPvnGLQ/s1600/IMG_3023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFgDQjM7HYt1mwoOdCyW_m2P4FsvJetZMLRFL8HOC2Cp44YlFGebNfsFoxG1sKZ2vtohbjJNktL7HdXdz9H2yU3P3yKsZO7_h3AfjdSw7pvgReg0QO9ufuaU9YT0YxOEfpQCXnlPvnGLQ/s320/IMG_3023.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just one of the many entertaining signs in SE Asia.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’d highly recommend a visit to Luang Prabang if you ever get to Laos. It’s a beautiful little place where people go for 2 days and end up staying the week. The place is safe as there is a midnight curfew (not really enforced, but all the restaurants and bars close, so what else is there to do), which we broke only once as we tottered home after a rather fun night with the group. We were approached by a young fellow selling ‘#1 best opium’ which Dave politely declined before we picked up the pace to get home to our guest house. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> - Dal</div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-56128823839160339712010-11-14T00:24:00.001-05:002010-11-14T09:37:48.722-05:00Chiang Mai<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">From Bangkok, we flew to Chiang Mai which is the main city Northern Thailand. It’s much more relaxed than Bangkok during the day but the night is still bustling with vendors at the huge night market. We did our share of shopping (my fake Teva’s I got for $6 lasted for 3 weeks before I replaced them with $10 Crocs in Ho Chi Minh City last week) to the point that we actually shipped back some stuff home to ease our carry load (Sidebar - our load is embarrassing. We’ve each one big backpack and then 3 trolley bags plus the small camera bag. And we’ve even shipped a 7KG box of clothes back to Canada. Our lesson is that we really don’t need that many clothes when travelling since getting laundry done is so cheap). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The food at the night market was phenomenal..Dal and I would chow down on pad thai, tom yum soup, red curry, fried shrimp etc..and wash it down with fresh lemon or coconut juice. Our meals would usually total around $4-5 for the two of us leaving us completely satiated.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since tourists do tours, we booked a day to go visit the most notable landmark in Chiang Mai, Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, which is a gorgeous temple complex on the top of a hill. The site was chosen in year 1383 in a rather unique fashion: a relic of Lord Buddha was placed on an elephant’s back and the spot where the elephant finally laid down and died was chosen as the area to erect the temple. Sounds like a real estate developer’s strategy to me. This Wat proved to be worth the 300+ stairs climb as it was truly majestic and we were honoured to receive blessings from monks in one of the enclosed temples. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That same day we visited two other tourist attractions : The Snake farm and the Monkey farm. This was a compromise as I hate snakes and Dal thought it was unfair to have monkeys perform out of their natural habitat. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The snake farm turned out to be a hidden gem for a few reasons</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some of the snake cages looked quite rickety and one pane of glass within a cage housing an albino cobra looked like it might shatter with a small amount of force</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">During the 30-minute ‘show’ that took place in a ring, the Thai announcer stood next to a ghetto blaster that was playing an instrumental version of Europe’s “ The Final Countdown”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The volume would be high for a few seconds…he then he’s turn it to low and provide some commentary and jokes...then back to high volume.. Here a sample</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Snake very big”</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 seconds of the Final Countdown at volume level <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7..then back to level 2</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Snake very fast”</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 seconds of the Final Countdown at volume level <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7..then back to level 2</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Keep your eyes on snake” </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 seconds of the Final Countdown at volume level <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7..then back to level 2</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“He keep eyes on you”</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 seconds of the Final Countdown at volume level <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7..then back to level 2</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“His poison can kill you in 10 minutes”</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 seconds of the Final Countdown at volume level <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>7..then back to level 2</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Hospital 11 minutes from here”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This sequence literally carried on for 30 minutes and I completely regret not recording it on video just for his commentary.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got an opportunity to have a python drape itself around our neck and shoulders. It felt exactly how you’d probably imagine: heavy, slightly slimy and cold. The term drape, however is left open to interpretation by the snake. On me, you see the more traditional drape. However he gave Dal a bit more of a snug greeting. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Apparently monkey farms bring out my inner Homer Simpson/Peter Griffin as I was rollicking in laughter as monkeys shot basketballs through a hoop, lifted weights, sold monkey balm and recognized numbers. Dal was concerned that the treatment of these monkeys were poor as there was separation of mother and child, the performing monkeys were kept in cages (so as not to attack the crowd I suppose) and there were monkeys on display that were chained by the foot. I rationalized that the show only went for a few hours and then the monkeys were able to live normally again. Also, the monkeys were quite well fed as tourists could buy food for $1 and throw them to the various monkey. And of course…it brings joy to tourists and raises awareness about monkeys.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePIjKkjyei18bpuh3eSElP4UF40St79cXkzhONsZeSdZ4ZoLGnJo9oFJiPTqjPZ2y2b-cJWpZiHAtQ-KYCmIH3ecea-lKLg9nYc8EqSfp2kiyc5HjD1WydWAjYKdjip-iZVTyxj9IeyM/s1600/DSC_3697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePIjKkjyei18bpuh3eSElP4UF40St79cXkzhONsZeSdZ4ZoLGnJo9oFJiPTqjPZ2y2b-cJWpZiHAtQ-KYCmIH3ecea-lKLg9nYc8EqSfp2kiyc5HjD1WydWAjYKdjip-iZVTyxj9IeyM/s320/DSC_3697.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One other big highlight was the fish spa. A fish spa, for those not in the know, is basically an aquarium containing schools of very small fish. Tourists dip their legs in this aquarium and the fish swam to the legs picking off dead skin. It’s really a win-win situation for everyone. We did it for about 20 minutes..and I could never quite get comfortable with the sensation of these little guys pecking at my legs. Dal blissfully enjoyed it. I have to admit though that my legs and feet did feel like a baby’s bottom afterwards, as promised by the vendor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">- DP</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBICiFone2NqH63wrYKQaVeaG0a9vNWuKp3xfI5WrLVEDefyVH-gvNyDIgfaS98ESa-yHve0qw9uNhJ8SfjlLfx9Q_S4VddV7HvZYDsPMV21qiAcd6SB8TiemWGiW6VECt-1Mc2R_H7wE/s1600/IMG_2977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBICiFone2NqH63wrYKQaVeaG0a9vNWuKp3xfI5WrLVEDefyVH-gvNyDIgfaS98ESa-yHve0qw9uNhJ8SfjlLfx9Q_S4VddV7HvZYDsPMV21qiAcd6SB8TiemWGiW6VECt-1Mc2R_H7wE/s320/IMG_2977.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-YKzoxojEAtLLSXI12YNxNyzraG90gG7vclqdrMR0S0RbHO_73rjyYcuigbzx_IN9fQguZxCCKZLwQpq3fERVqJUDXNOunW89yjwMBg8sL4rguzmUZg467tHdkyMAg8wI8a6ukE8NVk/s1600/IMG_2982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-YKzoxojEAtLLSXI12YNxNyzraG90gG7vclqdrMR0S0RbHO_73rjyYcuigbzx_IN9fQguZxCCKZLwQpq3fERVqJUDXNOunW89yjwMBg8sL4rguzmUZg467tHdkyMAg8wI8a6ukE8NVk/s320/IMG_2982.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-85967301940353602512010-11-11T06:35:00.002-05:002010-11-13T13:31:20.965-05:00Remembrance Day<div>In the last 2 weeks, we’ve visited</div><ul><li>Vietnam War Remnants Museum, a tribute to the 1.1 million soldiers and the 3.0 million civilians that perished </li>
<li>Cu Chi Tunnels, a very strategic location that the Vietcong defended against the US and Vietnam armies by using an intricate ground tunnel system to hide, move and attack</li>
<li>My Son Temple Ruins, in Hoi An, Vietnam where we saw bomb craters and the remains of temples </li>
<li>The Killing Fields in Phnom Penh, Cambodia where over 17,000 people that were tortured by the Khmer Rouge were dumped into mass graves – over 2.5 million people died during this regime</li>
<li>The Cambodian Land Mine museum that was started by Aki Ra, one of CNN 2010 Hero finalists</li>
</ul><div></div>These experiences, along with the Genocide museums and churches we saw in Rwanda, have been nothing short of heartbreaking for us. It’s simply astonishing such brutalities against fellow human beings have occurred in the last 35 years under the watch of the world. I have a tremendous amount of respect for the people of these countries that appear to have forgiven their oppressors and have moved on to carry wide smiles on their faces, although they remain mired in abject poverty. <br />
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“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed” – The opening of the US Declaration of Independence written in 1776 by Thomas Jefferson. This quote is also displayed, sardonically perhaps, at the Vietnam War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City. <br />
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In North America, war is justified as a last-resort method to defend basic freedoms. Having travelled through countries where citizens have suffered and been displaced by wars and still don’t enjoy these freedoms has made me appreciate what we have in Canada. We enjoy the right to achieve a standard of living to essentially experience anything we desire. We have personal and national security. We have rights. We are given free education. We are a land of opportunity for immigrants. We have social programs for those in need. We’re not a perfect country but all things considered, we have so little to complain about.<br />
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“I would like the opportunity to come to Canada” – said optimistically by countless people we’ve talked to during our trip. Sadly, I know that the majority of the people that express this desire will never have this opportunity. Poverty is an immovable anchor for the current generation and their best hope is to provide their children such an opportunity through education. Of course many of these children are also expected to help provide money for the family which hampers their education and the cycle of poverty continues. Throw in corrupt governments and enterprises that strive to widen the gap of rich and poor and it’s easy to be disillusioned.<br />
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Is there hope ? We've had the fortune meet people who have dedicated themselves to creating glimmers of hope for those in need. In Rwanda, we stayed with Cathy and Teste who run <a href="http://www.prefercanada.org/">http://www.prefercanada.org/</a>. At the Cambodian Land Mine Museum, we learned about Aki Ra who was a former Khmer Rouge soldier who has now dedicated his life to removing active landmines from his country. <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/SPECIALS/cnn.heroes/archive10/aki.ra.html">http://edition.cnn.com/SPECIALS/cnn.heroes/archive10/aki.ra.html</a> . And tomorrow, we get to meet Ponheary Ly, another CNN 2010 Hero nominee, who supports the education of over 2,000 children in Cambodia <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/06/18/cnnheroes.ly.cambodia/index.html">http://edition.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/06/18/cnnheroes.ly.cambodia/index.html</a>.<br />
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This Remembrance Day, as a Canadian, I am grateful for the freedoms I enjoy and the people that have protected them. As a citizen of the world however, I am saddened that all men aren’t given equal opportunities to pursue life, liberty and happiness. As a human being, I’m inspired by those who smile regardless of their circumstances and dedicate themselves to improving the lives of others.<br />
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-DP<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boy selling postcards in Hanoi, Vietnam</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woman, working at Handicapped Handicrafts, near Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken in Phnom Penh, Cambodia</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theogene, one of my favourite kids</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aliene and Sarah</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVsz9FJ7Bt87WGuisQPm_6noxPK-W2YKDudW3251TLsOl3n5Nt72TDm3ei9VWHgDXxJFrkfAyIWWuPVC-b8uAVpdAV8BdlElq5dolL7OSQswsfKDXtKzRYTK5i5zZnxF6YQI3tsLeoXo/s1600/DSC_1875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVsz9FJ7Bt87WGuisQPm_6noxPK-W2YKDudW3251TLsOl3n5Nt72TDm3ei9VWHgDXxJFrkfAyIWWuPVC-b8uAVpdAV8BdlElq5dolL7OSQswsfKDXtKzRYTK5i5zZnxF6YQI3tsLeoXo/s320/DSC_1875.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The adult class in Rwanda..one of my favourite photos<br />
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</tbody></table>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-27602979028954206602010-11-05T12:20:00.000-04:002010-11-05T12:20:48.376-04:00Safari in Tanzania<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Given we were already on the continent of Africa, we reasoned it made absolute sense for us to go on Safari and catch some of the local wildlife. We decided we’d get our safari on in Tanzania, with trips to the Ngorogoro Crater, the Serengeti and Lake Manyara. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were met at the Kilimanjaro airport by our guide ‘Nile’ and were told we’d have to wait for 3 more people to join our group. A few minutes later we heard they would not be joining us, which meant Dave and I had essentially scored a private tour for the next few days. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our safari started with the Ngorogoro crater. We’d typically start our drives at 7am and keep going until 5pm. Every time Nile got a message on the radio, he’d zip off into a new direction and Dave would ask ‘what is it?’ and I would say ‘let’s not ask in case we jinx it’. Usually, this rushed frenzy resulted in some fantastic animal action. One time it was a pair of lions in heat. We waited for 30 mins to see if they would do the deed but apparently they had just finished and were lying in a heap on the floor, napping in the sun. Oh well. Another time it was 7 females from a pride, ready for the morning hunt. They stalked and charged a herd of buffalo and we believe they caught one further off. But then, the buffalo turned and charged the lions and it was amazing to see them chase off the pride. The males in the pride proved themselves completely useless by wandering about aimlessly, and after being unable to locate the kill, plunked themselves under a tree. Useless. In their efforts at doing nothing, they managed to leave the cubs behind, one of which went missing, and we watched the mama lion walk around and call to the lion cubs for about 20 minutes before we had to race away. We hope she found the little one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Other exciting scenes included a lion guarding a freshly killed zebra, mangled beyond recognition. I quipped that his friends must be in mourning as they all wore black and white that day. Cheap, I know.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Tanzania, safari vehicles are not allowed to go off designated trails, and I was somewhat concerned that any animals we saw would be too far away from the path to get a good look at. After all, if I was an animal I’d want to stay as far off the path as possible and leave the humans to themselves. I needn’t have worried – as if positioned by the park rangers (which they weren’t) we found the wildlife to be extremely cooperative. We spotted prides of lions and herd of elephants, zebra, buffalo, hippos, giraffe, cheetahs, monkeys of all shapes and sizes, wildebeest and hyenas close to, or on the trails, and most of them seemed to acknowledge the vehicle but not be overly concerned by it. Female lions walked in the shadow of the safari vehicle, perhaps grateful for the shade and generally went about their business. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The entire experience was wonderful. I think even the most steadfast atheist would have to look around at the amazing creation and realize that God, or something, must have had a grand plan to create something so magnificent. I simply cannot imagine how so many varied species of animals and birds are indigenous to one area of the earth. This must be where Noah’s Ark landed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Africa did not disappoint. It lived up to every grand movie scene, where jeeps race against an endless horizon and epic music scores from Hans Zimmer play in the background.</span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As we left the Serengeti, I felt a sense of happiness for having crossed off a major item on my bucket list, and a bit wistful that I was leaving this beautiful land. Then, in a moment of pure cheese, I played Toto’s ‘Africa’ on my Ipod and looked misty eyed at the ‘Thank you for visiting the Serengeti. Please come again.’ sign as we charged out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">- Dal</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4u_EcTuHITWekiYm-sK4XMMqECA0yzdYaRt-PtxWtR3zi9dZS3_UVVYKHwL-WM0OI5fCKWM-XrNd04MyvK_kJtP739ia3Ljaf5Y6EOUfWZb-_Duv_iDZuuDY-CM5mt9Lg1yNjRK9JLk/s1600/DSC_2974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4u_EcTuHITWekiYm-sK4XMMqECA0yzdYaRt-PtxWtR3zi9dZS3_UVVYKHwL-WM0OI5fCKWM-XrNd04MyvK_kJtP739ia3Ljaf5Y6EOUfWZb-_Duv_iDZuuDY-CM5mt9Lg1yNjRK9JLk/s320/DSC_2974.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A male lion. Regal, yet surprisingly useless.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicp2-TyW1N7K-aTYLX0lMw0P2Lp_euraal5e3Nv6wT-NMcoacrop4j1vSJ4GBTI0aAJXsCzlWBElEHgEfHnwpqD7oidmCZWtLrwETZYo-p1ZKuydBFUA1Qn3dXTokl43jrxv5PD0jHSfQ/s1600/DSC_3154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicp2-TyW1N7K-aTYLX0lMw0P2Lp_euraal5e3Nv6wT-NMcoacrop4j1vSJ4GBTI0aAJXsCzlWBElEHgEfHnwpqD7oidmCZWtLrwETZYo-p1ZKuydBFUA1Qn3dXTokl43jrxv5PD0jHSfQ/s320/DSC_3154.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Herd of Elephants.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsarf_tc32R5nn9sybEDJ2ODj6mYFdVQNl3rYGvQZ_sejhzOSVWJnH_NtVd2YchOjCuayDBYVA9Gm501w8Q-w_6S45SnuRQtR1vRg8i2EyQfnUMbNLl62h1vaMtgaSoRw2jG28SOKgtE/s1600/DSC_3223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsarf_tc32R5nn9sybEDJ2ODj6mYFdVQNl3rYGvQZ_sejhzOSVWJnH_NtVd2YchOjCuayDBYVA9Gm501w8Q-w_6S45SnuRQtR1vRg8i2EyQfnUMbNLl62h1vaMtgaSoRw2jG28SOKgtE/s320/DSC_3223.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whatchu lookin' at ?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRBKlJNrAK2Sld86RXMnMNylG3AmtNnmKhkRuhP08sF_P15qbY06mDKzjPlV6LAD69-4OERLqrDKoBXLAlVforxWvOWt3uGi3leRUgzjLkLQCQnH5BvTG833Dvu1LXem9YTw51ikURtI/s1600/DSC_3245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRBKlJNrAK2Sld86RXMnMNylG3AmtNnmKhkRuhP08sF_P15qbY06mDKzjPlV6LAD69-4OERLqrDKoBXLAlVforxWvOWt3uGi3leRUgzjLkLQCQnH5BvTG833Dvu1LXem9YTw51ikURtI/s320/DSC_3245.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's almost like she's posing for a portrait.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtLWxp2468UHp4uU-4H8OfWEAsuoP4gCmF02c-r8tWk2ZvG71XDbdTF0Gi06bYYzrYRQLZnkbeYQNRfJt2TAF0ZDB_WLdAdC_iLdSejVWKS2qWP6o4OqUkF7QIrVtiev5fBl05yyOy0o/s1600/DSC_3344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtLWxp2468UHp4uU-4H8OfWEAsuoP4gCmF02c-r8tWk2ZvG71XDbdTF0Gi06bYYzrYRQLZnkbeYQNRfJt2TAF0ZDB_WLdAdC_iLdSejVWKS2qWP6o4OqUkF7QIrVtiev5fBl05yyOy0o/s320/DSC_3344.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giraffes getting ready for a drink of water.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYzT5La1cPGK_8nTEYXgOyhyphenhyphenCdNbtThkpEhffEQel-zE573WG7GzL1tahmo-jS7-Gedt5uROpUBEPMI66hi5iIRLr79pg5TweIMSDWEmig6XaaoDAIVn3TpF4afQhJ7KShZeVUZsRqIA/s1600/DSC_3404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYzT5La1cPGK_8nTEYXgOyhyphenhyphenCdNbtThkpEhffEQel-zE573WG7GzL1tahmo-jS7-Gedt5uROpUBEPMI66hi5iIRLr79pg5TweIMSDWEmig6XaaoDAIVn3TpF4afQhJ7KShZeVUZsRqIA/s320/DSC_3404.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lioness guarding the kill.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-odLGDnAjRSLUA8jD5Fv0Q2OMGK1XHX5L0BdlLnNps18qJTA7d17_6MkWiyBeYzURa4hoI5JkD76rxOMUwfzLIEMfHGPUupKyQDUgkPIIheEhkheR7-pWAfFB3MNB-Enbwp_Pmixs7o/s1600/DSC_3484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-odLGDnAjRSLUA8jD5Fv0Q2OMGK1XHX5L0BdlLnNps18qJTA7d17_6MkWiyBeYzURa4hoI5JkD76rxOMUwfzLIEMfHGPUupKyQDUgkPIIheEhkheR7-pWAfFB3MNB-Enbwp_Pmixs7o/s320/DSC_3484.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leopard in the tree.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRnhoLmK9FyxYhOlRpWkByG-815PpjFrj1dOP3bxigGAA15HAegkMUvdQodOskAQwH0neA7R0GKypODrdlWspK5OAjPUi0XPJtQdbAkzQuG9bkMusQRBFT0Mv8_kywHZIDZJ8lvOJRCE/s1600/DSC_3562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRnhoLmK9FyxYhOlRpWkByG-815PpjFrj1dOP3bxigGAA15HAegkMUvdQodOskAQwH0neA7R0GKypODrdlWspK5OAjPUi0XPJtQdbAkzQuG9bkMusQRBFT0Mv8_kywHZIDZJ8lvOJRCE/s320/DSC_3562.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-70060945104478434612010-11-03T12:15:00.001-04:002010-11-03T22:59:28.210-04:00Driver Ghasana and his family<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">** We realized we still had a few Africa stories to share with you such as this one and the safari we did in Tanzania. So we apologize for backtracking from Bangkok **</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">‘Ghasana’ was our driver for quite a few of our roadtrips while in Ruhengeri. We got to know him as the driver that Cathy would have to threaten to drive slower, by offering to lower his tip everytime she had to tell him to slow down.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He’s the guy who ran out of gas while on the way to Nyarama. We only know this because the car stopped and he had to walk to the nearest gas station to get gas, while the rest of us sat with the car on the edge of a busy roadway . Which finally explained why there were empty gas canisters sitting in the car.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He's the guy who's the father of Toufiq, the smiling, suave, stylish boy we hung out with at Lake Kivu (we have a post about that trip).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Net net – Ghasana built a reputation for himself as a sweet, if slightly scatterbrained, fellow. So of course, when he invited the group to his house the night after ‘boy’s night’ at the Soldier Bar, the boys happily accepted and I happily tagged along.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was already looking forward to meeting Mrs Ghasana – the woman’s reputation preceded her, as apparently she held court at the soldier bar the night the boys went out. As well, she was the only woman there that night, and managed to make herself at home, in spite of being a somewhat conservative muslim lady. There are reports of dancing as well, but we’ll pretend those reports are unsubstantiated…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At 5pm on the Saturday Ghasana came by to pick us up and we dutifully went over with gifts of food for the home. As soon as we arrived the respect-o-meter for Ghasana skyrocketed. His kids were beautifully dressed, his wife and family seemed really happy and healthy and he kept his family in a really nice house</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">. We were taken out back where Ron explained we were going to see ‘domestic lifestock’ but when we rounded the corner we were greeted by large, potted mushrooms. Not sure how mushrooms got translated to domestic lifestock, but that is a minor detail.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the tour, we were seated in the living room where two of Mrs. Ghasana’s friends had come to visit. They wanted to get a closer look at the muzungus who came to dinner, no doubt. Suddenly one of the women looked at me and said ‘I know you. You gave me a goat! Julie!’ Sure enough, we fished out the laptop to take a look at all our goat pictures, and there was Mrs. Ghasana’s friend, pictured with Julie, her goat. I looked with some concern at the plate of meat curry before me, pointed at it and enquired ‘Julie?’. Thankfully, I was wrong, and little Julie was alive and well loved by the lady’s two daughters, who apparently make up songs about Julie and sing them to her. It made us feel good to know that the goat, and her owners were still keeping quite happy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once dinner was over we dutifully went outside the house to take some pictures where it seems like the whole part of town stopped to stare at the foreigners, after which we all walked home with our swollen bellies, and a warm place in our hearts for Ghasana. It was also pretty darn cool to share a meal with one of our goat recipients. All in all, an excellent evening. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">- Dal</span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEPlpaUPkkPjjA_SXkOsTBahuoxlbi11ElJ9fKoguX21PrR64HpPGLoeDEnc4suuUxqAHX_LhN11wtIq0wGreA8l-qm2AzeOcHOOhx95qXM5TfQxnilkXDGADqvp4OywnNS20LOT_arQ/s1600/IMG_2833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEPlpaUPkkPjjA_SXkOsTBahuoxlbi11ElJ9fKoguX21PrR64HpPGLoeDEnc4suuUxqAHX_LhN11wtIq0wGreA8l-qm2AzeOcHOOhx95qXM5TfQxnilkXDGADqvp4OywnNS20LOT_arQ/s320/IMG_2833.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night before Ghasana's house..hanging at the solider bar. Max (German who was volunteering for a year), Ronnie's brother Collins (who reminded us of Bowfinger), me, Ronnie, Ghasana and Mrs Ghasana</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHp0EPhritIgvQjYpqix1ZqR2UPY2HCqGbo7GNeFm7dMpheMQfkbcf7KqgoXZH8HuNYICLSj0gcRaL-4V9YTDRPvdj3Z6Q57fq5rfqAgzMK3r7j6XtErnSoXHfehW_fEKmaVJffZYdBy8/s1600/IMG_2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHp0EPhritIgvQjYpqix1ZqR2UPY2HCqGbo7GNeFm7dMpheMQfkbcf7KqgoXZH8HuNYICLSj0gcRaL-4V9YTDRPvdj3Z6Q57fq5rfqAgzMK3r7j6XtErnSoXHfehW_fEKmaVJffZYdBy8/s320/IMG_2843.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghasana and his wonderful family</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvHjrGGSJe75TzYhTvrD-LySiZNAokdY0KrBNjnpZmmaV2W8WpDTkY5fsNUrNGZsyAI-G4WawRi9IEWQzjkukCb6HMCwX0wZyokUYo2bihIFdMEJ9vIg0lmAy4SgaZDnIJD2ABx-qK1s/s1600/IMG_2844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvHjrGGSJe75TzYhTvrD-LySiZNAokdY0KrBNjnpZmmaV2W8WpDTkY5fsNUrNGZsyAI-G4WawRi9IEWQzjkukCb6HMCwX0wZyokUYo2bihIFdMEJ9vIg0lmAy4SgaZDnIJD2ABx-qK1s/s320/IMG_2844.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The woman on the far right, a family friend, was a goat recipient !</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizd3tJtVgpPm6wP-nnIFPiV6PpNzCSURJXWxlBKFSfzIJBK5CU_5bP4ydVT-3ity5fP7dOrSPot8Vz6bEvNzEbj8gqEpg8WXRioblzjHi2JT30sFtryQDgwjOWocaFFFqtSmRnRADoWfM/s1600/IMG_2846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizd3tJtVgpPm6wP-nnIFPiV6PpNzCSURJXWxlBKFSfzIJBK5CU_5bP4ydVT-3ity5fP7dOrSPot8Vz6bEvNzEbj8gqEpg8WXRioblzjHi2JT30sFtryQDgwjOWocaFFFqtSmRnRADoWfM/s320/IMG_2846.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big group photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2S7ln7yE1cNOBzHXg0PgRFgHvMe18oc2u2eWh6kBVvz0LiP03LfzvDknT1CLrTC14BYmcmRdeP2y0fQxJcp6p6OBPt1l6Ye3Q9mwnkhL7RcC0OJJM88LeFDQKIJq3humBRdW8Uo1YcpQ/s1600/Launchfile+-+Julie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2S7ln7yE1cNOBzHXg0PgRFgHvMe18oc2u2eWh6kBVvz0LiP03LfzvDknT1CLrTC14BYmcmRdeP2y0fQxJcp6p6OBPt1l6Ye3Q9mwnkhL7RcC0OJJM88LeFDQKIJq3humBRdW8Uo1YcpQ/s320/Launchfile+-+Julie.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julie, the goat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1m0OKqthKa2EGKg_e1fTw0JD4J62grLF8fZF1qnPO0cqFxn-7v7yhRJifE_zRaP5s_vc4y9lxwg21ftfT1An-_udp_AmqoxdsFMuX0DNnxQ_BvZY8i3JVT0nXrdsOCcpDzuyCiNfEVc/s1600/IMG_2848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1m0OKqthKa2EGKg_e1fTw0JD4J62grLF8fZF1qnPO0cqFxn-7v7yhRJifE_zRaP5s_vc4y9lxwg21ftfT1An-_udp_AmqoxdsFMuX0DNnxQ_BvZY8i3JVT0nXrdsOCcpDzuyCiNfEVc/s320/IMG_2848.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus photo ! As we walked home from Ghasana's house, Steve and I came across this kid with a Winnipeg Jets jersey ! Gotta love retro NHL jerseys in Rwanda.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-18527205673541560532010-11-01T12:50:00.002-04:002010-11-02T13:30:09.757-04:00One (4) Night(s) in Bangkok<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After spending our last two days in Africa relaxing in Kigali and sending out some goat photos (still many more to be sent out), we flew to Bangkok from Rwanda on Kenya Airways via Nairobi. The Nairobi airport is a massive hub in Eastern Africa and was littered with plenty of Europeans (as was the safari and the gorilla trek). It might have been the most depressing major airport I had ever been to. Drab lighting in a dilapidated building without any good food options. Two memories for me are 1) The men’s stall in the bathroom…I summoned my inner-gymnast to extract myself from the stall as the door swings inward and effectively pins you against the toilet bowl. 2) When it was time to go to the gate, they do the ticket and security check..and everyone waits in this stifling room with crappy plastic seats. We notice some people angling towards the front and since we had carry-on bags that we wanted to ensure got into the overhead bins above us, we discreetly jostled our way close to pole position as well. Finally the doors open and it’s a stampede through the tunnel to the airplane ! No orderly line whatsoever. It was a goldmine of new material for Russell Peters as our flight was a full of Africans/SE Asians/Indians..none of whom have sterling reputations for their etiquette on public transportation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The flight itself was uneventful (thankfully) and 9 hours later, we were in Bangkok. Bangkok’s airport was incredibly efficient (as most of the Asian airports we’ve been to thus far) and we were out in about 20 minutes and took a taxi downtown to our hotel. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bangkok itself can be described as commercial and culinary craziness surrounded by majestic history and beauty. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ate, we drank, we bought and then we ate some more. Here are some of our Bangkok highlights</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Patpong market</strong> : Patpong Market is one Bangkok’s famous night markets bustling with stalls hawking real and knockoffs clothes, watches, jewellery, DVD’s and art. It’s also known as Bangkok’s Red Light district as evidenced by the numerous approaches I received (with Dal standing next to me) to come see “nice ping-pong show” by men holding menus of various sexual acts that could be performed at ‘best price’. As a sidebar – what does it say about Bangkok’s tourist clientele if the lead pitch is the ping-pong show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really???? That’s the tried-and-tested hook that gets the most people to enter their club ?? What ever happened to the classics such as “Come see pretty girls” or “Five dollahs...girls love you long time”. We responded that we preferred badminton..and got zero laughs from the pitchmen.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Negotiating</strong>: As a strong believer that most things can be negotiated, Thailand’s markets are a magical playground. After our first couple of purchases where we got fleeced (we paid a combined $25 for items we discovered later we could have got for $15), we mastered the art of “hear the starting price – react with incredulous facial expressions without saying a word – allow the vendor to drop the price by 40% on their own - then make an offer at 10-15% of the original asking price - come up to 20-30% of their asking price if we really like it - walk away - get called back - agree at around 25%.” </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Massages</strong> : Dal and I had been really looking forward to asian massages, but we may have gone overboard. We wound up getting 3 massages each during our 4 days there. My first one was a thai massage where the masseuse essentially twisted me into a pretzel while expertly stomping all over me. Ironically, I wound up getting a hamstring cramp during one of the twists..but the masseuse standing on my back was able to fix that quite promptly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also got a massage at 12:30am after shopping at Patpong market….60 minutes of bliss included a foot massage, then head, neck and shoulders followed by tea..for $8 each. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Food</strong> : Good God the food is incredible in Thailand. Several times, we OD’d on the soups, the pad thai, the curries etc.. so fresh and so cheap. One of our favourite joints was the food court in Robinson’s supermarket because we knew it was incredibly clean and we could both eat well for about $4 and it was a nice 10 minute stroll from our hotel. Dal was also hooked on the mango and the baby coconut water that we bought on the street for less than $1.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Taxi Tricks</strong> : Thanks to reading Lonely Planet and a few blogs, we were prepared for a common scam that unscrupulous taxi drivers pull on unsuspecting tourists. The rule of thumb is to ensure they use the meter before you get in the taxi. One time, we forgot this rule and entered the cab of an overly-friendly chap. About two minutes into our ride (which I knew would be about 120 baht) I asked about the price. The taxi driver smiled gleefully and said “don’t worry..good price”. I asked “how much ?”. He grinned widely again and said “20 baht”. Right away, I knew why and said forcefully “No stops”. He responded “only 1 stop..I take you to nice tailor shop”. The cabbie gets a sweet commission for bringing tourists to the shop, which is often not even on the route to the original destination. We threaten to get out of the taxi and his disposition quickly changes from cheery to pouty and we have a bit of a debate (Thais don’t like loud brash arguments). Silence then ensues and we enjoy a quiet although tense ride the rest of the way for 100 baht.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Lee Min Ho</strong> : We decided to check out some of the malls near Siam subway station when we started to notice around 3:30pm a bit of a crowd forming consisting of teenage girls near a makeshift stage. We continued our shopping and at 4:30pm, the crowd had swelled to at least 1,000 people on the ground floor with lots of people watching from other floors. Some asian star named Lee Min Ho was making an appearance. Of course we had no idea who he was but we decided to join the hordes and wait for his arrival. Without the benefit of Google, we were left to guess at his relevance and we settled on recent Asian Idol winner as our best bet. At 5:30pm, the crowd was now massive (and yes..there were a LOT of Hello Kitty paraphernalia) spanning 7 floors. We had already waited for an hour for his arrival so bailing now seemed stupid. So we waited..and waited some more..played Angry Birds on the iPhone..made lots of jokes at our predicament..and finally at 6:15, we saw him from our 5<sup>th</sup> floor perch. Pandemonium ensued as teenage asian girls shrieked in delight. Of course we joined in, professing our love for Lee Min Ho quite loudly which only drew a few stares. When we got to our hotel, we googled him and he’s apparently a South Korean heartthrob actor </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Min_Ho"><span style="font-family: inherit;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lee_Min_Ho</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> . Whoopee.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 18pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Embarrassingly, we didn't see any temples since we knew we'd be seeing a tonne in Laos and Cambodia. However we're in Bangkok again for a couple of days prior to flying to Mumbai and have plans to visit the Royal Palace a couple of other sacred areas.</span><br />
<br />
-DP</div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-17805744493953300352010-10-28T00:39:00.001-04:002010-10-28T00:43:10.739-04:00New posts coming this weekHi there..sorry we've been silent for the last 10 days ! We are still alive and kicking with tonnes of stories and photos to post. We will be doing so over the next few days, so please check back for stories on<br />
* how a python began to wrap around Dal's neck<br />
* how we survived a 2 day slow-boat trip down the Mekong river<br />
* what kind of accomdation $5 gets you in SE Asia<br />
* why David was in a sauna wearing a skimpy towel with 5 asian women (and Dal)<br />
* how David took his elephant for a bath..and Dal's elephant took her for a bath<br />
<br />
Also..on the left side of this blog are links to some of the videos we took in Africa of the kids. Feel free to have a gander.<br />
<br />
DPDal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-12098846287892346252010-10-17T04:01:00.000-04:002010-10-17T04:01:29.986-04:00Final Goat Update - 155 Goats Delivered !<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After 7 trips to the goat market where many of the goat sellers actually knew us by name, we purchased and distributed a grand total of 155 goats.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are some of the highlights of the goat market</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5x1H8H7nRHyiCn6f63VhK0DBf8ipv0Fx4z8lI8XRtk5E7mbmKY1Za80o0KJHfPjNQQpWImc2c9XNVdYwe_MbnNR2Wj6UTTT3wuL8edfML9vcPl3wQg0zDQgf6ZltlX_LOvk8i43O2o6o/s1600/IMG_2712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5x1H8H7nRHyiCn6f63VhK0DBf8ipv0Fx4z8lI8XRtk5E7mbmKY1Za80o0KJHfPjNQQpWImc2c9XNVdYwe_MbnNR2Wj6UTTT3wuL8edfML9vcPl3wQg0zDQgf6ZltlX_LOvk8i43O2o6o/s200/IMG_2712.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peterborough Connection</td></tr>
</tbody></table><ul><li><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seeing one of the goat sellers wearing a Peterborough Lakers lacrosse t-shirt. I grew up in Peterborough which has a population of about 75,000 so of course I had to take a photo with this guy</span></li>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The view of the Virunga mountains in the background (where the Rwandan Patriotic Front army (the good guys) regrouped and re-launched their efforts to achieve peace) made the entire thing surreal</span></div></li>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sitting in the back of the truck with the goats as we drove the 20 minutes from the market to the school – I waved to everyone as though I was royalty riding a goat float..and of course many of them smiled and waved back</span></div></li>
<li><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagYLdg8Y-bTs3t30Bz3Bhccpeb4VRh9cZR0McXzE7kY4uMia0nrQLorm0crvPCxU_7Gl8K-RzWjX0S4O0nBa6ChTdKZkk1myyvfvEAkM_y5srQuybEGxPBauU5EzznTxb5cOX8neYCs4/s1600/DSC_0929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagYLdg8Y-bTs3t30Bz3Bhccpeb4VRh9cZR0McXzE7kY4uMia0nrQLorm0crvPCxU_7Gl8K-RzWjX0S4O0nBa6ChTdKZkk1myyvfvEAkM_y5srQuybEGxPBauU5EzznTxb5cOX8neYCs4/s200/DSC_0929.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rwanda's newest goat herder</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dal trying to hold the ropes and maintain 5 goats…unsuccessfully</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Talking to the people who would inevitably crowd around me…..soccer/football was the easiest thing to discuss as ‘Man U’ ,‘World Cup’ and ‘Drogba’ need no translation</span></li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkci-FlinSECZgSgGgoT6LWYSzEOBeJq2za3VxrGx0wfrawCLNlUvUYpES_znFyEm3bSigx_lpCO2FrKff4B77pHRrBM6tmXm2Czy5E-fms8W4Rglzdv5BwMv1_k1K4iIGdpHJ44GmMw8/s1600/IMG_2805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkci-FlinSECZgSgGgoT6LWYSzEOBeJq2za3VxrGx0wfrawCLNlUvUYpES_znFyEm3bSigx_lpCO2FrKff4B77pHRrBM6tmXm2Czy5E-fms8W4Rglzdv5BwMv1_k1K4iIGdpHJ44GmMw8/s200/IMG_2805.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ticket from Police</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <ul><li><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Getting a ticket by the police on the 7<sup>th</sup> and </span> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">final trip back home…because it’s apparently illegal to have people AND goats in the back of the truck together. You can have one or the other..not both. The fine was 10,000 RWF..about $17. And because Rwanda is a country that firm against corruption, we weren’t able to negotiate the ticket.</span></li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For us, the real highlight was being able to give the goats and see the emotions of the people we were able to help. We’re so thrilled to have been part of this project and we’re very grateful for the immense generosity of our friends and family and those we’ve never met that helped. On our last day, we received an official letter from the regional government executive secretary formally thanking us and our friends for helping the region. We’ll scan it and add it to the blog when we get a chance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGGzEGx8hUSYBx7SET0Y9HAph9xLA-i1Pdm8VW87vBjLsdO9FKT9jRNdbsmeZgD9IH9WqOq6QKRRrqwUB_nYFVLdE63qkNGmw274rzZCQhaRfABXDjrz2uCb75kKjGMey_Sd03NKB09Y/s1600/DSC_2116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGGzEGx8hUSYBx7SET0Y9HAph9xLA-i1Pdm8VW87vBjLsdO9FKT9jRNdbsmeZgD9IH9WqOq6QKRRrqwUB_nYFVLdE63qkNGmw274rzZCQhaRfABXDjrz2uCb75kKjGMey_Sd03NKB09Y/s200/DSC_2116.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGt1cN-pUPYBJzuVgd-OyuOZbu6prkZ60zKjcJNV6B_sz89Qdv77O-50vxSQASzUuibc3A4_0ZLTwtSYt4K0SFpjZkWYz-DFohxeFsuvwmf8pg4aSZS-jPRCLm_MpJeNmuobN5U_rvwZk/s1600/DSC_1600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGt1cN-pUPYBJzuVgd-OyuOZbu6prkZ60zKjcJNV6B_sz89Qdv77O-50vxSQASzUuibc3A4_0ZLTwtSYt4K0SFpjZkWYz-DFohxeFsuvwmf8pg4aSZS-jPRCLm_MpJeNmuobN5U_rvwZk/s200/DSC_1600.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No..Thank YOU !</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvPsHaeI1dHAyWPQpZwotLpdf_vdBQziSoNcPKj8X-7nxYTG9YFZlfoIsmcOZ5Ot7wjsaFwUtvSwry5FVl39QVJGhBaG2W6jzFv_31JAMoASvRAceypsa1awsqYuKKEk2ExlAWyShoKQ/s1600/DSC_1539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvPsHaeI1dHAyWPQpZwotLpdf_vdBQziSoNcPKj8X-7nxYTG9YFZlfoIsmcOZ5Ot7wjsaFwUtvSwry5FVl39QVJGhBaG2W6jzFv_31JAMoASvRAceypsa1awsqYuKKEk2ExlAWyShoKQ/s320/DSC_1539.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">*** BONUS BONUS BONUS ***</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Teste was able to negotiate so well with the goat vendors (bulk purchasing power baby !) that we had about $1200 left over ! We’ve allocated the extra money as follows :</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$200 went to 10 care packages for needy families (consisting of cooking oil, sugar, salt, 2Kg of meat, tomato paste, soap, a plastic basin and a blanket)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$150 went towards a roof, doors and windows for a family building a house near the school. They’re a very hardworking couple with a beautiful child and we were happy to help them accomplish their dream of completing their build</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$75 went towards new boda-bodas (slippers) for the street kids who we play soccer with and feed on Saturdays</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$500 went towards obtaining land across the street from the preschool so that Cathy and Teste can now build a primary school</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$20 covered a care package for Mama Benita who invited us over to her house on the last day and is a fantastic mom to two of the nicest kids you’ll ever meet</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$100 went towards the passport application fee for Ron – read Dal’s post on Ron to find out why we felt strongly about this </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">$200 for Cathy to use on any project she sees fit</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgew5Wkca18LWKq46YdPjmaPM-0d6wGNyT-Cy4NI1rLHQHwwkECybTgbrPdNMmeTA26hrk09Xx0eEvGh4yaW6R5mOKc9HsaQ80Wpky2bvFGb9G8Vtzk1e6tK5EVxo7qOMOcwAIQiR0OgZA/s1600/DSC_2300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgew5Wkca18LWKq46YdPjmaPM-0d6wGNyT-Cy4NI1rLHQHwwkECybTgbrPdNMmeTA26hrk09Xx0eEvGh4yaW6R5mOKc9HsaQ80Wpky2bvFGb9G8Vtzk1e6tK5EVxo7qOMOcwAIQiR0OgZA/s320/DSC_2300.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Assembling the care packages</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5BVkhiqd3f4AoteC6wrBoPSAgaEM8kFZQwWlDFm511EmR9hauhWAjMZbsWC1l5dFVbQQTzS44JuvqywJOhVHnEKU_5ozyHgF9rO5Gyx17dqRcr7H5pEB7fZCGXmPraepQW4yBHJRctg/s1600/Sept+15+045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ5BVkhiqd3f4AoteC6wrBoPSAgaEM8kFZQwWlDFm511EmR9hauhWAjMZbsWC1l5dFVbQQTzS44JuvqywJOhVHnEKU_5ozyHgF9rO5Gyx17dqRcr7H5pEB7fZCGXmPraepQW4yBHJRctg/s320/Sept+15+045.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The house which will be getting a new roof, windows and door soon. As a sign of gratitude, they gave us their first born.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEf32VK7jYJnXieigbqSyTN-dEu40pBBBZnwIWZ1m8Qn7TF32DtuyB8ctBDKJUMnVE0DbwLhReqeWYP9S8pfXbBbmpHbtlhaFAYqaggQhXK0W_AAmxPX1AFGe3vvi6SgCrRqykyubdb3U/s1600/DSC_1953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEf32VK7jYJnXieigbqSyTN-dEu40pBBBZnwIWZ1m8Qn7TF32DtuyB8ctBDKJUMnVE0DbwLhReqeWYP9S8pfXbBbmpHbtlhaFAYqaggQhXK0W_AAmxPX1AFGe3vvi6SgCrRqykyubdb3U/s320/DSC_1953.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama Benita, Benita and Confiance. Just wonderful kids.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hJ6PQqprcKRJfRGRNW8cPtqsSGx2pomfuglOTI9K0q1n0GdzMcUddouWJlmVFJEUwVQx8pUXmY-ZTMUCzem9cXv_50G-lzTote-VJESgm_-rwogkSTLNQ6oKdaGkfyEUE6-HuPgW-i0/s1600/IMG_2794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hJ6PQqprcKRJfRGRNW8cPtqsSGx2pomfuglOTI9K0q1n0GdzMcUddouWJlmVFJEUwVQx8pUXmY-ZTMUCzem9cXv_50G-lzTote-VJESgm_-rwogkSTLNQ6oKdaGkfyEUE6-HuPgW-i0/s320/IMG_2794.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A photo in front of the new land Cathy's purchased to build a primary school.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz5oMOOJszJeyxQNXoBiaP6vOY4jNFggjt_H2jM_BNMAq06pltXNjU7HqgP_1mYu-nyuMX5jXgW_RvFbsGUuTYsDndIaTHIq3vdtCkoAkv0TdroMcpDYoRzi6E46szJPf79Rlvw8EaZ5E/s1600/DSC00402+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz5oMOOJszJeyxQNXoBiaP6vOY4jNFggjt_H2jM_BNMAq06pltXNjU7HqgP_1mYu-nyuMX5jXgW_RvFbsGUuTYsDndIaTHIq3vdtCkoAkv0TdroMcpDYoRzi6E46szJPf79Rlvw8EaZ5E/s320/DSC00402+(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't wait to see you in Canada, Ron !</td></tr>
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</div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Additionally, we’re using some of our business skills to help create a powerpoint deck that Cathy can use to promote PREFER to potential volunteers or contributors.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there you have it. Sept 2010 has undoubtedly been the most productive month of our lives and we </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">really proud of our achievements here. We’ve been called angels by a few of the goat recipients which is incredibly humbling. But the reality is that we are the lucky ones to have been experience such an incredible country and to have spent time with Cathy and Teste who perform saintly miracles daily to help improve the community (<a href="http://www.prefercanada.org/">http://www.prefercanada.org/</a>) . We would wholeheartedly recommend this experience for anyone looking to volunteer between 2-4 weeks and help make small, sustainable differences in the lives of others.</span></div><br />
- DPDal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-59811233829314975612010-10-15T10:45:00.000-04:002010-10-15T10:45:05.568-04:00Last Day of School<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s hard to believe that our stint in Africa is complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived in Rwanda with a lot of ambition and a bit of trepidation and hoped to learn about this side of the world and about our ability to handle the challenges here. We depart feeling that we accomplished more than we imagined…but we both feel a bit guilty that we’re now off to vacation for 3 months while so many people that we’ve met in the last 6 weeks couldn’t even afford the $100 fee to apply for a Rwandan passport. As Ron Burgundy would say, we’re in a glass case of emotion. </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To overcome these pangs of guilt, we’ve committed to looking for short-term volunteer opportunities in Cambodia/Laos/Vietnam, 3 of the poorest countries in the world. Robyn, a wonderful volunteer we met in Rwanda told us about an organization she volunteered with in Cambodia. If anyone else has recommendations, we’d love to hear them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s very difficult to quantify the difference we made in Rwanda. We didn’t have visions of changing the world as we are only 2 people and there are so many things to be done. A couple of weeks ago, we realized our goal really should be to create as many small sustainable differences as possible. As Cathy says, the goat program isn’t a hand-out but rather a hand-up. It provides an immediate emotional boost to a family, but ultimately it’s their responsibility to take it and make the financial impact long-lasting.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On our last day at the school, the regional executive secretary came to do a presentation of the 20 care packages that Dal and I along with Robyn and Liz had funded to 20 deserving families. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Cathy and Teste had invited Intore dancers to perform that day, there were a lot of neighbours on the grounds meaning the crowd was at least 300 people. He gave a fantastic speech to the crowd that crystallized what I love about the Rwandan attitude. His main points were</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thanking us and our friends who have donated these important care packages without evening knowing any of these families personally</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">These families are immensely grateful for these gifts from God..and they now had two main responsibilities: </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">a.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Use the help wisely…don’t squander</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 72pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">b.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Help others in your community who also have very little. You have been given something out of love…and you must show love to those around you who need it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After the speech, we hugged each family and exchanged greetings and then there were off on their merry way. One of the women took the speech to heart to the extent that she half-jokingly invited Cathy to dinner that night to share the meat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once the dancers and families left, the kids then did their daily 'goodbye' routine which consists of sitting in a massive circle and the teachers would lead them through songs. Dal and I went around the circle and high-fived each of the kids. The kids serenaded us with all the songs we had taught them, including "WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU", "ARE YOU SLEEPING, ARE YOU SLEEPING", "A WAVIN FLAG" but the hardest one to hear was "NAH NAH NAH, HEH HEH HEH, GOOOOODBYE". (I've written these in all caps because the kids literally bellow the songs). Dal and I stood in the middle of the circle and simply took it all in. At one point, Dal was about to break down into tears but then we saw one kid shove another kid to the ground which returned laughter and balance to our world.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are some photos from our last day at school.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTHNe2mfhUSZ5OTY92bq5hVMzDUewP-JTaPqpN4222m516Fm8Vfc9goH1fJkm1-7BT_1jTo10PY1ZxZT3W64W0ghx5i8DCCREzaHi4-EU1qISwaWeGb5poOEKprRMcCP8sl_sbxnp8GI/s1600/DSC_2300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTHNe2mfhUSZ5OTY92bq5hVMzDUewP-JTaPqpN4222m516Fm8Vfc9goH1fJkm1-7BT_1jTo10PY1ZxZT3W64W0ghx5i8DCCREzaHi4-EU1qISwaWeGb5poOEKprRMcCP8sl_sbxnp8GI/s320/DSC_2300.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting together the care packages</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFWOS1kphcXcYHdvAQeTDsdfLwlBfH8EYFuUtqPcwoalzJlQXxU7eeIpyRz4BK7oJFv-On-8r2gBgIVMAB9Khtg1rGNwkzL7LHqITkZ-fTqTd1bFfJCeUcd1S7S0sV0tZaDD_qEj_XKCs/s1600/DSC_2309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFWOS1kphcXcYHdvAQeTDsdfLwlBfH8EYFuUtqPcwoalzJlQXxU7eeIpyRz4BK7oJFv-On-8r2gBgIVMAB9Khtg1rGNwkzL7LHqITkZ-fTqTd1bFfJCeUcd1S7S0sV0tZaDD_qEj_XKCs/s320/DSC_2309.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intore drummers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxla3ecWsp2HX1hVOQzfq_Lqb60fbmPbKsrP0tp8kks-Fu197YTLbL37mYeSCcc9o-EBmGPE-_vJJYOXfrTKmahzs_WXtahlUAg05NITs1cICl0JPlqy9WVSpxVYIQ-S46MRWdVUqLPk/s1600/DSC_2327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxla3ecWsp2HX1hVOQzfq_Lqb60fbmPbKsrP0tp8kks-Fu197YTLbL37mYeSCcc9o-EBmGPE-_vJJYOXfrTKmahzs_WXtahlUAg05NITs1cICl0JPlqy9WVSpxVYIQ-S46MRWdVUqLPk/s320/DSC_2327.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dal's decided to let her hair grow out. Ta-da !</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM1jitI3pRqWvU1O_lRdK0M1FN_8JviDJlJ5v225RXeVk7Wo47p8q88rFd2x2Z_OZLjclFWnAWX33IO8lQMAAYhSu2kJc48zR8TZ7cqV8s0aQ-Hor0jsXL-t5JyS_iYtiE8WMEMjclHg/s1600/DSC_2486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM1jitI3pRqWvU1O_lRdK0M1FN_8JviDJlJ5v225RXeVk7Wo47p8q88rFd2x2Z_OZLjclFWnAWX33IO8lQMAAYhSu2kJc48zR8TZ7cqV8s0aQ-Hor0jsXL-t5JyS_iYtiE8WMEMjclHg/s320/DSC_2486.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White men can't jump...but they can.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsEreWfLN4jymQvE3gJ4zZMC9S8bYjQCRVufk3vPSTE7a2jIfvG-ImKFp_nMAyaOxcpYQM6bNaFqCrDlGZrUGA6T-t08Y4iT72gK8xndw9kznnISV1S2Gr28-4XRhUjUwSv_5dXaaSpoQ/s1600/DSC_2413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsEreWfLN4jymQvE3gJ4zZMC9S8bYjQCRVufk3vPSTE7a2jIfvG-ImKFp_nMAyaOxcpYQM6bNaFqCrDlGZrUGA6T-t08Y4iT72gK8xndw9kznnISV1S2Gr28-4XRhUjUwSv_5dXaaSpoQ/s320/DSC_2413.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robyn, Dal, me, Liz, Teste, Executive Secretary Jean-Marie, one of the care package recipients</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exchanging greetings with the care package recipients</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking out with the care packages.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last high-fives</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dal's about to lose it..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93zdDftGliF59ykk1ixhWKdofItsmiiUkoLjbAEJG_5HPxMdlOa-0EfX1wgYe6OCwI1UZxzlA1D4zamiWd0vqX1RYj-CNUvUiQEFX3BwNNOYRkIMmyAA8HkYVf9HDINVd8g9C0E2noU8/s1600/DSC_2512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93zdDftGliF59ykk1ixhWKdofItsmiiUkoLjbAEJG_5HPxMdlOa-0EfX1wgYe6OCwI1UZxzlA1D4zamiWd0vqX1RYj-CNUvUiQEFX3BwNNOYRkIMmyAA8HkYVf9HDINVd8g9C0E2noU8/s320/DSC_2512.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last goooodbye</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-2832934548554021392010-10-13T11:56:00.000-04:002010-10-13T11:56:58.611-04:00Ronnie Bakira - our Rwandan Hero<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">During our stay in Rwanda at Cathy’s house, there is one person who has delighted and impressed us, and has earned a permanent place in both of our hearts. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ronnie Bakira – preschool teacher by day, ‘Acidic’ – musical prodigy by night. He is the saver of orphaned kittens and the collector of lizards in your bedroom as you hysterically shriek for help. He is also the purveyor of the ‘African Knock’ – a culture-appropriate way of admonishing kids who throw stones at the dog, kick a ball at Cathy’s head or engage in any sort of unsavoury behaviour. (While Western society may balk at the thought of knocking little ones swiftly on the head with a knuckle, I’ll say all the kids I’ve met here – INCLUDING the street kids – are scores better behaved than 70% of the kids I’ve met in Canada). I might need to administer a few African Knocks myself when I’m back, so hide your sons and daughters.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ronnie is 26 and returned to Rwanda from Uganda about 1997/1998 by his estimation. He has no parents, and one brother who lives in the area. Ron is a permanent fixture in the house – while he lives in his own place, he’s at Cathys house for all meals and to help out with any volunteer related details. Such as taking so and so to the bank, taking this one to the gift shop, and that one to go buy phone cards. He’s always available and ready to help.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He also says some interesting things like ‘I wish to live only until I’m 60’. ‘Don’t you want to see your grandchildren??’ David asked. He pondered it for a moment. ‘No’. Fair enough.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At school, he’ll spend a Friday morning playfully sparring with one of the 2 year olds in his class, while on Saturday morning he’s a strict disciplinarian and coach to the over 100 street boys who turn up every Saturday to play soccer and receive a meal of bread and sorghum, as well as soap. In the pre-school, any child who is misbehaving need only see him come around the corner and they’re swiftly back in place. And if someone isn’t doing quite what I tell them to do, all I have to say is ‘Teacher Ron’ and they turn into angels. Who says threats don’t work?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ronnie hopes to come to Canada someday and go to school there. This would be an excellent opportunity for him – he’s a smart, witty, resourceful and personable young Rwandan man, and Canada could provide some amazing opportunities. In Rwanda, when the locals see non-black people, they shout out ‘Amuzungu, Amuzungu!’- which loosely translated means white-person/foreigner. Ron jokingly asked if when he came to Canada, people would point at him and go ‘BLACK BLACK!’. We said yes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But first he needs a passport – which costs about $100 USD to process in Rwanda. While Ron has been saving for this passport, we decided it would be a really worthwhile initiative to use some of our excess goat money to fund Ron’s passport. Which we’ve done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His first stop in Canada is BC – and when he makes it to Toronto, he’ll hopefully stay with us so we can treat him to Indian food (which he tasted for the first time with us, and loved)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and to feed him sushi which he will likely hate, but it will be fun to see him try to choke it down. Retribution for the time he told me a store bought strawberry ‘wine’ was ‘wonderful’ when in fact it tastes like cough syrup. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here’s to ‘See you sooner’ Ronnie. We hope you make it to Canada real quick.</span></div>Dal<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhw5kH_EojeCwsCtJemVT82kk1_3QuPFkmEvDk-3k4tGlDWgykg1Tlp-1w-jloqvm2MqFloZAs5O63wG4pgjfhCh97AHDy0WTlXftUQBS1nuNduYe66YCYpmZoqo2eMkq9QlnIUZf2mFM/s1600/DSC_1892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhw5kH_EojeCwsCtJemVT82kk1_3QuPFkmEvDk-3k4tGlDWgykg1Tlp-1w-jloqvm2MqFloZAs5O63wG4pgjfhCh97AHDy0WTlXftUQBS1nuNduYe66YCYpmZoqo2eMkq9QlnIUZf2mFM/s320/DSC_1892.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dal, David and Ron on the way to Kigali. Ron LOVED wearing yellow</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-X1RMdpnXHqZ0svpOh8-0B0TEKEzYa64FJX5W9A31rU_WDQOrkOZtNUNs0plYTr05_2sDXdm3ODz_flXFnGFmOtzmb0yrN_K_HWdeeMxrRxXZK59Y_CLcrNvw0o9hr_dhv5Ni_pVH9qE/s1600/DSC_1947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-X1RMdpnXHqZ0svpOh8-0B0TEKEzYa64FJX5W9A31rU_WDQOrkOZtNUNs0plYTr05_2sDXdm3ODz_flXFnGFmOtzmb0yrN_K_HWdeeMxrRxXZK59Y_CLcrNvw0o9hr_dhv5Ni_pVH9qE/s320/DSC_1947.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David, Steve and Ron have drinks at Khana Khazanaa..an amazing Indian restuarant in Kigali</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-28367705881807804162010-10-13T06:49:00.000-04:002010-10-13T06:49:11.837-04:00Our Daily Routine in Rwanda<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So what do we actually do ? We just realized we don’t have a post that detailed our weekly schedule, so here it is :</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday – Friday 8am-noon : volunteer at the preschool</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday/Thursday from 2-4pm : teaching english to the adults</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday/Friday 10:30 am-noon : go to the goat market to purchase 20-30 goats</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tuesday/Friday 2:30pm-3pm : hand out the goats to those selected</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday 9am-noon : soccer and feeding the street kids</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We loved Wednesdays because we were free after lunch to wander, nap or head to Ste Anne's hotel for free (but slow) Wifi and cheap beer and food.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The schedule wasn't all that hectic, but teaching is tiring so it suited us fine. We were often in bed and asleep by 9:30pm and work up the next day around 6pm or whenever the imam decided to be particular energetic with his morning prayers.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
While at the preschool, our duties consisted of </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Feeding the kids</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Helping teach numbers, counting, alphabets, writing</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Play with them at recess (see our post on evaluating recess games)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Teach them songs </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Escort them to the ‘nurse’ (Cathy) to address boo-boos (real or fake)</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Teaching English to the adults was a different animal, but was an exercise in patience as they struggled with concepts that come so naturally to us. We usually started the class by getting the adults to stand up and read out sentences such as “ My name is __“, “I have __ children”, “My favourite colour is __”,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My favourite animal is __” and “I would like to visit __ someday”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or we’d simply write the alphabet on the board and have adults stand up and tell which letter we were pointing to. This would allow us to assess who’s a beginner / intermediate /advanced. From there we’d break up the classes. The beginners would continue to work on the alphabet. The intermediate class would work on vocabulary and the advanced class would work on reading and conversation. This structure somewhat evolved over our 5 weeks there, but it seems to work really well and we noticed demonstrable improvement in many of the students. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the ways we were able to connect with the class was downloading a Kinyarwanda-English dictionary to our laptop. We brought out laptop to school and then would write out english words on the whiteboard. We divded the class in two teams and the team that was able to spell the word and give the meaning in Kinyarwanda would get a point. As it added a small element of competition and because it helped us learn more words in Kinyarwanda, it would up being one of the favourites exercises for everyone.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This adult class was also very interested in basic health and hygiene knowledge (how to treat a cut, how to cure a headache etc.) so Cathy has organized those types of sessions as well that other volunteers have led.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In retrospect, we really enjoyed the adult classes because so many of them were really engaged and desperately wanted to improve their English. On our second last day, we took a group photo which we showed the class on our last day. They were thrilled to see themselves in a photo and it’s now hanging up proudly in one of the classrooms.</span> </span></div> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfu50geapus_2RuP-q-q3GFqOkzdf3qdcQevOxY_1jbuu9Yi-KQ_EQL7-zJ-v6MjF-xZq-iC9yQo-QH4Q-wU8VVG2We_A83fF2mAucpc8jKIsGAE2Lhy5XtIbQ4IFEejZUebbcx2vwDVY/s1600/DSC_1860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfu50geapus_2RuP-q-q3GFqOkzdf3qdcQevOxY_1jbuu9Yi-KQ_EQL7-zJ-v6MjF-xZq-iC9yQo-QH4Q-wU8VVG2We_A83fF2mAucpc8jKIsGAE2Lhy5XtIbQ4IFEejZUebbcx2vwDVY/s320/DSC_1860.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dal holding court</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David using a whiteboard..some things never change.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbPMfGjBCd1yMO8Vab-XkwW86J8o0YpQtWdx-C8wRS9eTSoE1ilwPbnxfmarKmsBXkEqOVXFM0jdnUFOmThrkiYaLhia3yj0gVgug3NeFNMggg5QFEXgYndSFReYIQd8-PAAzGOQzBhg/s1600/DSC_1880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbPMfGjBCd1yMO8Vab-XkwW86J8o0YpQtWdx-C8wRS9eTSoE1ilwPbnxfmarKmsBXkEqOVXFM0jdnUFOmThrkiYaLhia3yj0gVgug3NeFNMggg5QFEXgYndSFReYIQd8-PAAzGOQzBhg/s320/DSC_1880.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group photo with adult class - now hanging up in the classroom</td></tr>
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</div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-58496187154691663662010-10-11T12:58:00.001-04:002010-10-11T18:06:47.537-04:00Go Leafs Go chant... in Rwanda ?This is precisely why the Leafs have opened the NHL season with wins over les Canadiens and the Sens and are atop the league standings.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmq7WGF55yQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmq7WGF55yQ</a><br />
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I'm just one man doing my duty as a Leafs fan.Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-50719529557097548702010-10-06T02:33:00.001-04:002010-10-11T13:00:23.892-04:00Touched by a Gorilla<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Oct 3 2010 was a special day for a couple of reasons. First – it heralded our first wedding anniversary. We made it a year without killing each other – a promising sign. Second – it was the day we chose to go Gorilla trekking in the Virunga Mountains in Rwanda. We figured what better way to spend our anniversary than with a bunch of hairy apes. However, since friends and family weren’t able to make it to Rwanda, we decided we’d go see the Gorillas instead. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Our pick-up arrived at 5:45am and at 6am we were off to the main office to get registered and meet our guides. Our trek would be in the Virunga mountain range, where Dian Fossey conducted her research. (Her original study group – the Susa group – still resides in these mountains, but the trek to see them is the most gruelling, and we opted for a slightly easier trek). After about an hour of standing around watching the guides and other staff do the customary chatting/negotiating, we were separated into our different groups. The groups consist of a guide, a trekking ‘scout’ who goes ahead to see where the Gorillas are and report back, and about 8-9 trekkers per group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I elected to get a porter for the princely sum of $10 USD – a nice 18 year old boy called Emmanuel who cheerfully accompanied us and insisted on even carrying the rain jacket I had, rather than let me wrap it around my waist. (The kid was later worth his weight in gold when he helped me negotiate a VERY challenging climb by literally airlifting me with his right hand as he cheerfully swung his machete with his left).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Our hike took us through some flat farmland and then on through some bamboo forest area. Our guide explained that the ‘man with the gun’ who accompanied us was not there to shoot the slowest trekker, rather as a security measure as the forest is also home to buffalo who can be aggressive buggers when the mood strikes them. The gun is to scare them off, as in these here parts, animal life is more sacred than human, and rightfully so.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We trekked along with me thinking what a lovely cake-walk this all was when we arrived at the stinging nettles. Then, we received word the gorillas were nearby and the path became extremely steep, and we all grabbed bushes and roots for leverage as we hauled ourselves up the slippery leaves underfoot, hoping we wouldn’t land face-first in a nettle bush. Gorilla watching is not effective when one’s eyes are swollen shut.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then it happened. We heard a rustling in bushes about 10 feet away and saw a black mass in the trees. Just a few feet more to go when my feet started to slip and I did what I typically do when on a steep incline with no traction – I froze solid. This effective manoeuvre has also been tried with great success at Blue Mountain in Ontario. Someone handy notices you’re frozen and they come get you unstuck – in this case it was my friendly neighbourhood porter – Emmanuel. GOLD I tell ya.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Once at the site where the gorillas were, we saw 2 babies come tumbling down the hill just 4 feet away from us – absolutely unperturbed by their human visitors. In a tree beside me I saw yet another baby staring us squarely in the eye – trying to suss out the strangers. Then a sibling came along and smacked him on the head.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">At this point, a smaller gorilla who was hiding in a bush by David’s leg, decided to cross the path we were standing on, and grabbed on to his leg for leverage as she passed by. We heard her coming and he stayed absolutely still as we weren’t sure what she would do. Seeing the little one grab on to his leg (gently and firmly, he said) and walk to the other side was absolutely magical.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then I experienced what I’ll remember as an epic moment in my life. The lone Silverback in the group, a great big male of about 400lbs, emerged from the foliage. We were instructed to move out of his wave, which we did to the best of our abilities, given we were all standing on a steep incline surrounded by stinging nettles, mud and uneven footing. When he finally did emerge, he stood in all his glory, the sun shining down on him and he truly was magnificent. I had the privilege of being the closest to him in the group – a mere 4 feet from where he stood. Having never been this close to a gorilla before, I freaked out a tad, and turned my back to him and held on to David for dear life. I figure, if King Kong was going to punch me, he may as well do it in the back of my head so I wouldn’t see it coming. ‘Don’t worry’ said the guide’ It’s ok’ and sure enough, the big guy simply walked down the path we had come down, all 24 of his tribe following his lead. These creatures, with whom we share 97% of our DNA, are absolutely gentle and non-aggressive.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The next hour was spent following this gorilla family (to our relief he moved DOWN the mountain instead of UP it) -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>during which the silverback made 2 more walks past our group within a mere 4-5 feet. The rule for humans is to stay 7 metres away from the Gorillas. Cleary, no one has explained these rules to the gorillas as some seemed to have no problems walking past us as though we were just another primate in the jungles they inhabit. Albeit an INFERIOR primate, as when you’re in the presence of a Gorilla, there is no doubt who’s in charge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The Rwanda board that oversees the Gorilla Trekking program is doing an absolutely fantastic job. The ‘habituated’ gorilla families (these are the groups that are allowed limited human exposure, so they can be a part of the trekking program) are kept a close eye on, and every member is known by name. They are monitored for health and there is a strong anti-poaching force in effect. Unlike some other countries, Rwanda is not overly susceptible to corruption, and the anti-poaching task force is extremely effective. The guides are friendly and knowledgeable and do a great job at communicating with the gorillas in ‘gorilla speak’ to ascertain safety and approachability. While the price is somewhat steep ($500 USD per permit/per person) – chances are the prices are only going to go up in future, as they seem to have over the past few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it makes for one cool story to tell the grandkids.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Photos to come soon..we're at the Kigali airport right now waiting for our flight to Tanzania and the connection is pretty dismal.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">- Dal</span></span>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-14977116492865507352010-10-02T10:58:00.001-04:002010-10-02T11:00:52.309-04:00These are a Few of My Favourite Things<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we get closer to departure, I’ve put some thought into some of my favourite things about Rwanda. Note – I have not seen the Gorillas yet – that happens Sunday, so for now, they don’t make the list. This list is in no particular order. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Friday night Chapati pizza – Cathy’s girls make a helluva good pizza using chapatis as a base. Said chapaties come from the house next door, from the Muslim woman who is an excellent cook.</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">GOOD MORNING said about 100 times as we make our way to school – usually by exceptionally cute, small children, who will risk life and limb to come running out to wave at us, and have us wave back.</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The beautiful beautiful beautiful children who just melt my heart. Anyone who knows me will tell you I am NOT a sucker for kids. I’m usually not quite sure what to do with them. But here – the babies turn me into a drooley high pitched squeaking mess, and I’ve taken more than one little girl to Cathy’s medicine kit to put ointment on a non-existent booboo. (the trip to the medicine kit thrills them, as it means they get to go into Cathy’s office where all the cool stuff is)</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Giving away goats – the smiles of pure joy from the people receiving goats – such a small gesture making such a big difference. It’s enough to make anyone teary eyed.</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Max the dog – his ‘hug me’ stance when he backs his ass into you and sits on your foot. LOVE ME he demands. And you have to comply because he’s so darn lovable.</span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rwandan coffee – as bad as it is for me, it is sooooo deeelicious. It makes good people do bad things. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Feeding time – handing the bread and sorghum to the kids and having them yell ‘thank you very much!!’. Then chasing away the resident chickens who try to steal the bread right out of the childrens’ hands. I never liked chickens. They’re only good for eatin’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">8.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The curious stares when we’re in the market, and the amused and genuinely friendly smiles of the women and men at our attempts at Rwandan words. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">9.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The 4 or 5 little ones at school who will sidle over every day to hold my hand – it’s always the same ones – usually quiet, shy, and just wanting to hold hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">10. Amina and Sara - 2 of the most precocious little girls in the school. I'd likely go mental if there were my kids but for 4 hours at school, they're full of rascally, lovable goodness. </span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And here are some of our favorite photos !</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeHHYlgbMb7INDAyhz3v1mpq-ewHCOVIQenxgqWGB3mvXehZAsknMortKW78cn6k5pOiGELAxpSIh7BH3fZPQX8-szT6RvVs7zuNB4z3VYDNjmc21i4AQlsdE0OXoShqRzUp8WPA1szs/s1600/IMG_2641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeHHYlgbMb7INDAyhz3v1mpq-ewHCOVIQenxgqWGB3mvXehZAsknMortKW78cn6k5pOiGELAxpSIh7BH3fZPQX8-szT6RvVs7zuNB4z3VYDNjmc21i4AQlsdE0OXoShqRzUp8WPA1szs/s320/IMG_2641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theogene. David's favourite kid.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf87Aa7EStQu4vWDFng6yTc9O7uW4S3nVsdvmGGERjcUUgLevP9jFEAJ6VX_UlgbgEgO9t1yNI9c0Ngnj8NjUqzDaymqfeHYZuRDH82usNuZom6whe4Vhc4k-pV6oJ48IZpVrNwsXe_E/s1600/IMG_2693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf87Aa7EStQu4vWDFng6yTc9O7uW4S3nVsdvmGGERjcUUgLevP9jFEAJ6VX_UlgbgEgO9t1yNI9c0Ngnj8NjUqzDaymqfeHYZuRDH82usNuZom6whe4Vhc4k-pV6oJ48IZpVrNwsXe_E/s320/IMG_2693.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T-shirt on one of the street boys.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_q2by32g0H8lzS1MNsPFzE469FMg_AjZJkdAsDlVcaKZXjCH7grgHvGf6EJjh4cUmtr-dZh8lCkdEB6PpiN4mj2F2us6Tr10_Y6kQ-kyvPNzp-ieGcStPK5z2XwuYjSErQ8Ixabf5d0/s1600/DSC_0892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_q2by32g0H8lzS1MNsPFzE469FMg_AjZJkdAsDlVcaKZXjCH7grgHvGf6EJjh4cUmtr-dZh8lCkdEB6PpiN4mj2F2us6Tr10_Y6kQ-kyvPNzp-ieGcStPK5z2XwuYjSErQ8Ixabf5d0/s320/DSC_0892.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nozeeme 'The Doctor' heading off to a short call.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs01uuv6NoPRMFV9gjdM64uSoZ_5pPoZNTMeAudp1hIghALiYyX0Sca-MoY_HZquN4lP-Kgb5ELRErUm8PjVNPF7UlQ5C0ddR6UtHc8oVOk5FgiRs8WXdTFWZlzrYDA4lhV5m9qBoQl6M/s1600/DSC_1304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs01uuv6NoPRMFV9gjdM64uSoZ_5pPoZNTMeAudp1hIghALiYyX0Sca-MoY_HZquN4lP-Kgb5ELRErUm8PjVNPF7UlQ5C0ddR6UtHc8oVOk5FgiRs8WXdTFWZlzrYDA4lhV5m9qBoQl6M/s320/DSC_1304.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David teaching the concept of maximum extraction.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGczk4oO5gnrL9uOadAimOeW0DDLE7I7XLkXwnpeoTAlCFZt4GRk25hS412nQdWR4vQZOTazql_32lpKxhb4nApGlqzHolU4jfgXIcRcx329ynaTlnBX0CvYYUonRZCxRRSYFwXdY0vrc/s1600/DSC_2010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGczk4oO5gnrL9uOadAimOeW0DDLE7I7XLkXwnpeoTAlCFZt4GRk25hS412nQdWR4vQZOTazql_32lpKxhb4nApGlqzHolU4jfgXIcRcx329ynaTlnBX0CvYYUonRZCxRRSYFwXdY0vrc/s320/DSC_2010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning K'Naan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUY8e2jrwHUvuWasYXvtrKezVU4iOsQ_YGVXqDeOq_r0eueDJBMW-RgHM30cGqZsq5gle2jUkWhmHCf5Y0h0o3m49PhXj1nYk1s6E-cfBZp012X6L8jCMrTKL4iLl4hYU3xWtNpJq-PI/s1600/IMG_2739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUY8e2jrwHUvuWasYXvtrKezVU4iOsQ_YGVXqDeOq_r0eueDJBMW-RgHM30cGqZsq5gle2jUkWhmHCf5Y0h0o3m49PhXj1nYk1s6E-cfBZp012X6L8jCMrTKL4iLl4hYU3xWtNpJq-PI/s320/IMG_2739.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CONGA!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Cdnzb0Z_BU3Y-OFIK3eFTSeegThFFUUbVKDcXE3dpmAp3GQXLmjFj2r7SQEq0EBBHbGm0SRVYLtUZ1gkXXnbEL3FA3rmnIp1DyRdfUCDjxCPecx2tWD2MNq7OH8A7E6_L5QNgowgNBY/s1600/IMG_2766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Cdnzb0Z_BU3Y-OFIK3eFTSeegThFFUUbVKDcXE3dpmAp3GQXLmjFj2r7SQEq0EBBHbGm0SRVYLtUZ1gkXXnbEL3FA3rmnIp1DyRdfUCDjxCPecx2tWD2MNq7OH8A7E6_L5QNgowgNBY/s320/IMG_2766.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing with the babies while Sara tries to mount my neck</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHmSpkyg2lbynaHwDhvwjQRmgrLZFcLGCBLsEn6mKNese4cnhwQRfPQIFzq9lVlwaOjauMhxIPor9A_y3xBCucIXHCbttFKbgEzo3yEOSi9GVVD0asbRsbK3gX-fC9dW_wvVKP3a0Wkg/s1600/IMG_2643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHmSpkyg2lbynaHwDhvwjQRmgrLZFcLGCBLsEn6mKNese4cnhwQRfPQIFzq9lVlwaOjauMhxIPor9A_y3xBCucIXHCbttFKbgEzo3yEOSi9GVVD0asbRsbK3gX-fC9dW_wvVKP3a0Wkg/s320/IMG_2643.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Majid, AKA Colonel Sanders.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKzAFo3tZLkBL1yjObCbkdncJ2T-DILpObz3_ak5aK5qSbrrdO0pPykAmeluFfWcoFhSMt5oQz462nj5ea8-mM_iA_9B4DV7-6yfq3Sh-YeLCbAlR47kjb0Z8AXjIjqCmYq4RORaWGPs/s1600/DSC_1985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKzAFo3tZLkBL1yjObCbkdncJ2T-DILpObz3_ak5aK5qSbrrdO0pPykAmeluFfWcoFhSMt5oQz462nj5ea8-mM_iA_9B4DV7-6yfq3Sh-YeLCbAlR47kjb0Z8AXjIjqCmYq4RORaWGPs/s320/DSC_1985.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sara, one of Dal's favourites, endearing herself.</td></tr>
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</div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-13030953912737391712010-10-02T10:09:00.001-04:002010-10-02T10:48:33.963-04:00More Genocide Memorials<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last Tuesday our group decided to make a trip down past Kigali to visit a couple of genocide memorials that are based at 2 local churches. The first visit was to a church in a town called Nyamata. During the genocide, Tutsis flocked to their local Catholic church, figuring they would be protected in the house of God. This particular site saw 10,000 massacred at one time, while inside the church.</span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we arrived to the site, we observed a sombre air. We were advised that photography was not allowed inside the church, and as soon as we got closer we realized why. While the bodies have been removed from the church, the clothes of the deceased remain, piled up on the church pews. Steve – who spent some time in Afghanistan – did a positive ID on bullet holes in the clothes. Just piles and piles of dead peoples’ clothing. Inside a church. Bullet holes are visible in the walls…yet at the back of the church, the statue of mother Mary remains unscathed – a few blots of staining on her, but that’s about it. She looks serenely down at the church. What did she see that day as thousands of men, women and children were mercilessly slaughtered?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We asked the guide – what did the priests here do to stop this? He looked at us and answered – ‘nothing’.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then proceeded to the room underground where the remains of bodies are kept. Some are piled 20 bodies (just bones now) to a casket while other skulls and bones remain respectfully on display. You can tell the ones that were killed by a machete to the head. A clean slice through the skull leaves no guesses as to what happened to that poor individual. As we made our way into the second underground tomb, Dave nearly face-planted into a pile of skulls as he missed a step. In another situation this might be funny, but this time around all it did was convince me I really didn’t want to go down there to see the remains of hundreds of more people. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Feeling <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a bit sickened I joined the group as we headed to the next church in a place called Nytarama. Again, we saw the clothes and personal effects of the people who died in the church. Among the remains were a couple of ID cards. These ID cards, originally promoted by the church in the 30s, eventually became the death warrants for anyone of Tutsi origin during the genocide in 1994. Essentially, people were stopped at road blocks, asked for their ID, and if they were identified as Tutsi, they were then killed without discussion. The lady at the memorial allowed us to take a picture of this card, which surprised me immensely. But we took the picture as we feel people need to know and understand what happened here, especially given the way Rwanda was ignored by the world during its 100 day descent into hell. I personally remember living in Dubai at the time the genocide would have been happening – I clearly remember the headlines during that year – OJ Simpson and Tonya Harding going apeshit on Nancy Kerrigan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t remember a thing being said about Rwanda. Do you?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then walked through to a couple other rooms. One was a kitchen – when the people inside wouldn’t come out, the genocidaires just burned the place. In here we found a human vertebrae which made me shudder, given my particular sensitivity to anything to do with spines.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then walked to the third building which was the place where the children were housed for Sunday School. At the far end of the room was a bit of brick wall that had been burnt and blackened. It was only when the tour guide started explaining what we were seeing that I realized the horrific truth. The blackened area wasn’t a burnt spot – it was the blackened remains of dried up blood – this was where the genocidaires killed the children – by smashing them against the walls.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I recognize this post is heavy. No funny anecdotes about the kids, no positive stories about what we’ve come to admire about this place. Just the cold truth about two horrific incidents, among hundreds, the remains of which we got to observe personally.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we walked away from the church, we passed by a primary school and as per usual the kids came out to say hello and give us hugs. I saw them running fervently towards something and I said to Robyn ‘What are they running towards’ and then a split second later ‘Oh my God, they’re running towards us, brace yourself’ Everywhere we go, the kids want to hug us. Their parents usually smile and wave. I guess what amazes me is how a country that was ignored by us at their time of need, can still embrace us with welcoming arms. Where were the Canadians when Rwanda was dying? Well – there was one Canadian TRYING but failing to do much due to the UN Handcuffs. But the rest of the world was silent and looking the other way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s shameful to think this was allowed to happen. And to realize its happening still – in Darfur, in the Congo – thousands of people are being killed, maimed, raped or orphaned. So today I have one request if you’re reading this blog. Please find one war-related cause to read about, and sign a petition or offer support to an organization that’s trying to help the civilians that suffer the most. Write a letter. Do something small, in your own way, to speak up for someone who is suffering and desperately needs the world to help.</span></div>- Dal<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending the stairs to see the bones of over 45,000 victims </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the ID card that was mandatory to carry. He was killed because she's a Tutsi.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSNlIYLCM8yac1J09JxbdA4i9Ak13OUkOhuom1fXkHxny_G27-5ZWttq4gQ9UdKNqtw11KQD8ALGRgd-hvViCWQa_ON5kQVVjgHDjzob1c_Rpv5W0a6FoNyiGy2Xmb1x1gRfsvyGq-Mlc/s1600/DSC_1933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSNlIYLCM8yac1J09JxbdA4i9Ak13OUkOhuom1fXkHxny_G27-5ZWttq4gQ9UdKNqtw11KQD8ALGRgd-hvViCWQa_ON5kQVVjgHDjzob1c_Rpv5W0a6FoNyiGy2Xmb1x1gRfsvyGq-Mlc/s320/DSC_1933.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo was taken in Sunday school room for children. The blood stain remains from the violence in 1994.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtByJyGuwQJAPSf8TsstJ8xz6Ymgr6lfwQIQTTpBpf0XDXkLUEp1IAZCmhO2l55MZY0uVCYW13HFNRPLlP_56ppnL9QG1eN_8yX6v5dI4Yy-RC11aoD3KxrAcveV81O3Qp4sI7MwTzbTk/s1600/DSC_1935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtByJyGuwQJAPSf8TsstJ8xz6Ymgr6lfwQIQTTpBpf0XDXkLUEp1IAZCmhO2l55MZY0uVCYW13HFNRPLlP_56ppnL9QG1eN_8yX6v5dI4Yy-RC11aoD3KxrAcveV81O3Qp4sI7MwTzbTk/s320/DSC_1935.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the clothes of the people that died while in the church.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYEdAmGomTBP64K0VtQzyBzazq0yQmV3OP3M00mal9lgwVc9BswGAh_n_QAfl8KOcgycEThKVqFFTjt_MDpTJTRWI9TA8fGSjwjoBcPgLZqIEnhnz1W5EFOwg3mIC5iK4rEWRfTSoovY/s1600/DSC_1943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYEdAmGomTBP64K0VtQzyBzazq0yQmV3OP3M00mal9lgwVc9BswGAh_n_QAfl8KOcgycEThKVqFFTjt_MDpTJTRWI9TA8fGSjwjoBcPgLZqIEnhnz1W5EFOwg3mIC5iK4rEWRfTSoovY/s320/DSC_1943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ntarama Genocide Memorial Sign.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6852741802094996541.post-27661271229351908882010-09-29T09:54:00.000-04:002010-09-29T09:54:53.807-04:00Entertaining kids during recess<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the things I’ve definitely come to appreciate in our 3 weeks here is the art of handling young children. I’ve gained a tremendous amount of respect for friends of mine that handle children every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The amount of energy we expend in the 4 hours with the kids is absolutely ridiculous. When we get home for lunch, it’s not uncommon for Dal or I to catch a nap to recharge. These kids are beautiful sponges who crave constant attention but have an attention-span that rivals my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve actually come up with some survival tactics while handling the kids during recess to ensure we’re not overwhelmed. Here’s an evaluation of them : <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ring Around the Rosey</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pros: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great for boys and girls and can be played with 3 or 30 kids. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cons: The we-all-fall-down part can be dangerous as kids either fall on me..or I fall on them. No one wins.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Red Rover</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pros: Encourages teamwork and bonding and competition.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cons: Given the history in Rwanda and the several border wars with the Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire), games that prevent children from breaking through a barrier may not be a good idea.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Soccer</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pros: I can dominate them and teach them to do celebratory dances.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cons: Me teaching African kids to dance ? They may as well teach me to play hockey.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Conga Line</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pro : Gets them to cooperate by putting their arms on the shoulders of the kid in front of them</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Con : Massive pileups due to one or multiple kids not keeping pace. The pileups are lots fun to watch…but I always feel guilty when someone starts crying.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sit down and pretend it’s quiet time</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pros : They’ll copy us and sit in silence….. for about 3.2 seconds.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cons : A revolt after 3.2 seconds consisting of jumping, screaming and snot flying everywhere.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6)</span><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kick a ball far and let them retreat it</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pros : I get to dropkick a soccer ball far and let the kid go fetch his ball. He/she are thrilled at how high I kick it. And it’s like an organized line as they all wait for me to kick their ball</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cons : Potential groin injury. Yes…on the third day here, I slightly tweaked my groin doing this.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Given our mutual short attention span, I think we’ll have to continue with the multi-faceted approach to entertain and exhaust them during their playtime.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On a separate note, I’d like to thank all my teachers from KG to Grade 8. I truly admire those who dedicate their days to educating young people and giving them the tools to be successful in life. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">From St Alphonsus in Peterborough : Mrs Ayotte (KG), Mrs Courneyea (Gr 1 and Gr 2), Mrs Morris (Gr3), Mr Purdue (Gr 4), Miss Heffernan (Gr 5), Mr Malloy (Gr 6). From St Anne’s in Peterborough : M. Normand (Gr 6) et Mlle Lawson (Gr 7&8).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">- DP</span></div>Dal and Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775434399356100815noreply@blogger.com2