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Gobi — Dalandzadgad, Mongolia

Dalandzadgad, Mongolia

Après avoir fait les courses dans un petit supermarché d’UB (beaucoup de riz, de pâtes, de gaz pour le réchaud, de papier toilette…) et le plein d’essence (2 réservoirs + 2 jerricans), on a pris la route pour le Gobi. Il a fallu une bonne heure pour sortir d’UB, puis on s’est retrouvé dans la steppe avec quelques gers à l’horizon, avec des troupeaux de chevaux ou de moutons et de chèvres par ci par là. On a dit au revoir aux routes de bitume et bonjour aux bosses, pour presque tout le reste du tour. Le paysage était très vert pour commencer mais arrivé l’après-midi, c’était déjà plus sec.

Les soir, Olzii nous demandait si on voulait camper ou rester en ger. Les 3 premiers soirs, on a campé, à chaque fois au milieu de nulle part, sans voir la moindre personne à l’horizon… Les ciels étoilés étaient sublimes !

Notre van 4×4 était russe, on l’a surnommé Katiouchka. On dirait qu’elle a 30 ans mais elle n’a qu’une quinzaine d’années, c’est juste que ces vans sont construits de manières très simples pour pouvoir être réparés facilement, comme le terrain est tellement dur. En effet, Olzii a passé beaucoup de temps à la réparer (le record : de 16h à 23h le 3è jour).

On s’arrêtait chaque jour voir un site, comme de jolies formations rocheuses ou un monastère en ruine d’où on avait de superbes vues, mais comme la Mongolie est grande et vide, il faut rouler longtemps pour voir quelque chose. Après 2 jours, on est arrivé dans le Gobi. On a commencé à voir des troupeaux de chameaux (surprenant au début). Même si le paysage était tout le temps désertique, il changeait quand-même régulièrement (des fois avec de petits arbustes, des fois des grands… Et des fois, pas d’arbustes du tout : pas pratique pour les pauses-pipi !) et avec souvent des montagnes à l’horizon.

Le 4è jour, c’était une journée spéciale: Sam a eu 30 ans et les belges fêtaient leur 3 ans de mariage. Pour commencer la journée, on a fait du cheval dans un superbe canyon. Les chevaux mongols sont très faciles à monter puisqu’ils sont bas sur pattes (mais costauds) et très faciles à mener. On a pu trotter facilement et même galoper un petit coup à la fin, trop bien ! Pendant la balade, on a pu voir des ypex, des chèvres de montagnes sauvages, des rapaces et des petites souris.

Ensuite on s’est dirigé vers les dunes de sable à travers de très jolis paysages. Pour terminer la journée en beauté, on a décidé de dormir en ger. Olzii s’est arrêté à la première ger croisée pour demander si on pouvait y passer la nuit (pour une somme modique). On a tout de suite eu le droit au ‘milk tea’ (du thé infusé dans du lait, un peu salé, pas au goût de tout le monde) avec des gâteaux, aussi à base de lait. Les gers sont très traditionnelles, on s’assoit par terre avec le gros poêle au milieu, mais aujourd’hui la plupart ont un panneau solaire et ont du coup une lampe électrique, une vieille télévision avec une parabole et ils peuvent recharger leurs portables.

Sam a fait l’erreur de demandé à Olzii ce qu’on allait manger le soir : Olzii lui a passé la tête, encore tiède, du mouton que la famille venait d’abattre pour le diner! Ils nous ont préparés une belle assiette avec la viande, du riz et quelques légumes. Ensuite nos hôtes ont mangé les abats, et nous passaient des morceaux : d’abord du cœur (« d’accord, mais saignant le cœur»), puis du foie, du poumon, du rein et pour finir les intestins. A ce moment-là, on a partagé de la bière pour les remercier de l’accueil. On a pu discuter avec eux par l’intermédiaire de notre cher Olzii. On a pu découvrir qu’ils doivent aller chercher du bois à 30km (pas beaucoup dans un désert), que leurs enfants vont à l’école dans le village voisin (à 20km), qu’ils ont des troupeaux de chèvres et de moutons (toujours ensembles ces deux-là), des chameaux et quelques chevaux et qu’ils déplacent les gers 2 fois par an : un endroit pour l’été, un autre pour l’hiver.

Pour le petit déjeuner, on a encore mangé les gâteaux faits avec du lait et un genre de fromage à différents stades de maturité (comme du beurre au fromage dur comme de la pierre) et bien sûr du milk tea.

Notre hôte nous a ensuite préparé des chameaux pour une petite balade sur les dunes de sables. Rien de très excitant mais tout de même incontournable. Puis nous avons repris la route, cette fois vers l’ouest de la Mongolie.

Update: English translation coming soon!

Test entry from cape town — Cape Town, South Africa

Cape Town, South Africa

Hello there.
I am in cape town

Regards.
Kim.

sent from iPhone..

Still in Oklahoma! — Claremore, OK

Claremore, OK

Where I stayed
Claremore Motor Inn
What I did
Will Rogers Memorial Museum; Totem Pole Park; Blue Whale; Oklahoma City National Memorial



Started the day with a free “continental” breakfast – coffee and a muffin. Checked out and trekked over to the Will Rogers Museum and Memorial. It’s quite a place and we could have spent a lot more time there. Rogers grew up on a ranch near Claremore and he and his wife bought land for a retirement home. After his death, his wife donated the land and the state built the museum. They are both buried there.

We continued on Route 66 taking pictures along the way of landmarks and icons.

In Foyil we stopped at Totem Pole Park, site of the World’s Largest Totem Pole (90 feet), created over a period of 11 years by Ed Galloway. The property contains a colorful collection of smaller concrete totems, covered in countless critters. In Catoosa we visited the Blue Whale, the star of a former swimming hole, now renovated as a park.

We stopped in Stroud for lunch at the Rock Cafe – a Route 66 “must see”. It was mentioned in the movie Cars and the owner was the inspiration for Susan the Porsche. The historic 1939 eatery burned in 2008, but the owner rebuilt. Met a couple from New Jersey who were heading to Oklahoma City (and then back to NJ). They started the Route 66 trip in Joplin as well, but they stayed in Joplin and did get to see some of the destruction from the tornado.

After lunch, we drove to Oklahoma City, past the Capital (with its own oil derrick), and eventually found the Oklahoma City National Memorial. The Memorial honors the 168 victims of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Bldg. bombing of 1995. Very moving, especially when you realize how many children were lost in the bombing. “We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived and
those changed forever. May all who leave here know the impact of
violence. May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope and
serenity.”

On our way to Oklahoma City, we saw quite a bit of smoke blowing over the highway from the south. When we checked into our hotel (Holiday Inn Express in Bethany), we saw on TV that it was a grass fire. Several homes were lost. It’s been very hot and dry here – temperatures in the 100′s and very low humidity (in the 20′s). Dinner was at the VZD Restaurant. It’s a local hangout with a bar and live music housed in an old 1920′s drug store.

Didn’t get very far today since we made a few stops. We’re hoping to put more miles on the car tomorrow. Meeting lots of friendly people, though. Always one of the best parts of traveling.

Nice Retreat In Suburban Hamamatsu — Hamamatsu, Japan

Hamamatsu, Japan

When you talk about Hamamatsu maybe your first image could be those of international manufacturers such as Suzuki, Yamaha and Kawai. I have to admit that these giant firms make this city famous worldwide but little is known about great historical sites in suburban Hamamatsu. Ryotanji Temple is located at the northeast of Lake Hamana and is best known by a zen meditation garden said to have been created by Enshu Kobori legendary garden designer during early 17th century. The garden is great for sure but the temple also has a number of great spots you you can never leave without taking photos.

Apparantly I’m an Odd Duck — New Delhi, India

New Delhi, India

The following consists of my impressions and experiences on my first full day in India.

First off I remembered the other complete movie I saw on the plane, The Informant with Matt Damon. It was certainly a memorable movie, but just I couldn’t recall it until I woke up from a 3-hour nap yesterday afternoon. I’m not fully functional unless I get at least 8 hours of sleep. I didn’t try to sleep last night until 2am and was woken at 6:30am this morning by two marching bands and fireworks.

My day really didn’t start until probably 10am after I finished blogging about the day before. I seriously doubt I’ll be blogging this frequently, but you never get a second chance at experiencing a first impression, so here goes.

My goal for the day was to keep it simple. Just find a SIMM card for my smartphone so I can have a phone # and, more importantly, 3G data service. I learned through the internet (which is never wrong) that the Gaffar Market was famous throughout India as an electronics mecca and it was roughly 15 blocks away. Before I left Seattle, I spent hours researching service providers on the internet and concluded BSNL was the right one for me.

I started walking. 10 blocks later I discovered that I’d been walking in almost the opposite direction from the market. This is easy to do since there are few street signs, and most of those are only in Hindi. Traveler’s tip: If you don’t see signs in English, chances are you weren’t expected to go there. After heading back to my hotel for some pointing out instructions from the front desk, I was off in the right direction.

Now you may be asking yourself, “He walked how many blocks?” You have to understand, I like to walk. In Seattle I’ll walk 40 blocks to get downtown, wander around, and walk 40 blocks back without giving it a second thought…and Seattle is hilly. Humans are optimally designed for walking long distances. Thinking, tool-making and walking/running long distances are the only things I know of that humans clearly do better than any other species. So I like to walk to celebrate my humanness…and because I could use the exercise.

The difference between walking in Seattle and walking in Delhi is like the difference between road and mountain biking, it requires much more situational awareness and a different set of skills. Delhi is an obstacle course. First off, you are regularly being distracted by beggars, sellers and taxi drivers; the latter refuse to accept that a westerner would want to walk anywhere. The only time this doesn’t happen on the street is when you go somewhere you are not expected to.

Secondly, there are sidewalks, but they are are largely unusable. This is due to construction/demolition (of the sidewalk or adjacent building), parked bikes/cars, disrepair, perceived filth (I can be a little picky where I step), vending carts, sitting/standing/squatting people, utility boxes that take up the entire width of the sidewalk, and sleeping dogs (best just to let them lie).

So you’re mostly forced to walk in the street, which (thirdly) is narrowed by vehicles that are often triple-parked. I’m not sure that Delhi police even bother with parking violations…or (fourthly) moving violations for that matter. They’re probably too busy dealing with accidents caused by such violations.

These vehicles, which are constantly moving and shifting lanes, are also regularly honking their horns to make their presence known to other drivers/pedestrians. This creates an annoying cacophony that gradually ends around midnight. Some of these horns are quite piercing. They tend to come from the smallest vehicles. One I heard was melodious and reminded me of the Patton soundtrack during the North African campaign. But my favorite horns are the ones that quack like ducks. It takes a special kind of person to be a quacker. You have to possess the consideration to modify your horn so that it doesn’t damage hearing with a sense of humor to boot. My kind of people, those quackers.

Then there’s negotiating the throngs of people who are also walking. On the plus side, they can be helpful for figuring out when and how to cross a busy intersection, though some of them are @!$^*#& insane about it. Think Frogger. I won’t be emulating that behavior. My strategy is to cross with a sane-looking group of people based on my safety (and visibility) in numbers theory. If we go down, we all go down together.

Lastly, you are constantly visually assaulted by advertizing. By the time I leave India, I expect the part of my brain that is affected by advertizing will be completely destroyed. Actually looking forward to that.

Anyway, I finally reach the market and begin wandering around looking for signs of BSNL. The market itself is smaller than the average strip mall, but there are plenty of electronics stores in the surround blocks. I walk blocks and don’t see any hint. I had a printout of a Google map showing where a BSNL store should be, but for reasons I mentioned earlier, it’s hard to identify the street. Also, whenever I researching locations in Google Maps prior to my journey, the result would invariably show a completely different-looking address. Apparently Delhi uses a dual addressing schema, which confuses me and doesn’t inspire confidence. Finally I start asking around. The first two people tell me that BSNL doesn’t offer service in Delhi. I think they must be trying to switch me to what they have and so I move on. But that’s what people who don’t sell SIMM cards are saying as well, so maybe the internet is wrong?

The clear consensus among the crowd is AirTel, so I embark on a quest to find an AirTel SIMM card. More wandering in the wilderness. Finally I am physically led by a shopkeeper who took pity on me to a tiny store that possess what I seek. But first I need to prove myself worthy. To complete my quest, I must produce three objects: my passport, a passport-quality photo and the business card of my hotel. I only possess one such object, so I am forced leave empty handed. It would seem that I am still in the early stages of the hero’s journey as described by Joseph Campbell.

Then it occurs to me that my overall plans had changed since deciding to spend the first day obtaining a BSNL SIMM card a month ago. Two weeks ago I learned that the head of my Buddhist lineage, the Sakyong, had arrived in Pharping, Nepal (outside Kathmandu) to receive one month of transmissions from His Eminence Namkha Drimed Rinpoche. While I was waiting for my flight to Newark, I booked a round trip to Kathmandu from 11/14-12/13, so I’ll only be a week in India before I spend a month in Nepal. I would need a different SIMM card for Nepal, so why am I bothering right now with India? I’m sure I can survive a week in India without my smartphone (he said with a quivering voice).

I start walking back to the hotel. It’s 1:30. I’m hungry, jet-lagged and need a break from India. I spy a bar that serves food. I walk up a flight of steps and into a darkened room that looks like any nice restaurant you would find in America (there’s technically no bar). I’m the only customer at first, which makes me wonder if the food is any good. I order my first meal in India, a chicken tandoori dish, and stare off into space until it arrives. I decide not to have a drink. I’m on pilgrimage and not supposed to. Even if I wasn’t on pilgrimage, it would put me to sleep. The food is excellent. Just what I needed.

I head back to my hotel and crash for 3 hours. There’s no power when I arrive, so I take the stairs. Note to self: Don’t take the elevator during the day unless you’re prepared to spend quality-time with the other occupant(s). The air conditioner continually kicks on and off with the electric grid.

After checking email and researching where I’m going to stay in Nepal, I head off in search of dinner. I walk a few blocks and pick the busiest restaurant I see. Turns out that they are vegetarian and specialize in thali. I’ve always wanted to try thali, but it’s pricy in America and I’m too cheap. I look at the prices. $4 plus tax and tip (I may be cheap, but I always tip). No problem. I try to order the South Indian thali, but the waiter says no, “Not for Americans”. I like this guy. He’s looking out for me. I was nervous about ordering thali because it’s like a sampler dish. The more samples, the greater the potential one could ruin my day. So maybe it’s best to avoid South Indian thali outside of America. I get Punjab thali instead.

Thali is like a cross between Ethiopian food in that you eat it with pieces of bread instead of a fork, and dim sum in that they are constantly bringing out different samples to try/refresh. I call my waiter over about one of the samples. “What is this called?” I try to repeat it back. He says it again. I try to repeat again. He gives up and shows me on the menu. I write it down. Malai Kofta. I get seconds. I also get seconds of the dessert, which is a custard dish with fruit in it. I was advised before I left for India not to eat the fruit unless it had a peel and I peeled it myself, but I didn’t know this dessert had fruit in it until I took my first bite. So I figure if I’m already screwed, I might as well enjoy the dessert. I didn’t get sick.

Observation: It seems my mind is fairly plastic. Things that bothered me the first night in India didn’t bother me so much the next day. Things that bothered me in the morning were basically OK by evening. Not that I’m fine with everything, but it’s workable. You have to adapt or you’ll go crazy.

Fun facts:

  • The elevator in my hotel travels to 4 floors (0 to 3). As a software developer, I love that.
  • My room is on the 4th floor which the elevator does not travel to. To reach the 4th floor, I must physically climb one step from the 3rd floor. For reasons I can’t explain, I love that too.
  • The deadbolt on my door has two distinctly designed settings, half-inserted and full-inserted. Why?
  • It takes 10 minutes for the dribble coming out of my shower faucet to get hot. Had I been assigned a room on the 3rd floor, I would be able to take a shower 30 seconds faster.

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