getting around

November 23-27: Orange County, California

I can’t even describe how much I love Orange County.  So I’m not going to try.

It’s wonderful to see my grandparents, aunt and uncle, and sister again.  While it’s very nice having an excuse to visit different places to see family, it gets lonely in Texas.

My grandparents live in Huntington Beach (or “Surf City”, as seen on many a Hollister sweatshirt), near Newport Beach and Long Beach and five minutes from the Pacific Coast Highway.  There’s a strip of the Pacific Coast Highway near Corona del Mar that’s my happy place, especially accompanied by some Stan Getz.  It’s beautiful.

My aunt and uncle live in Belgium one part of the year and in Spain the other part of the year.  They brought some Belgian chocolate with them, which isn’t doing much for my figure.

My grandpa got an iPad and a Wii recently.  Here’s him Face-Timing from across the room:

Alexa and I braved Black Friday and only ended up getting things from Target that weren’t even on sale.  Awesome.

Obviously I didn’t do much on this trip besides eat a lot of good Asian food and laze around.

August 6: Jakarta

As soon as we landed in Jakarta, 32 hours after leaving Dallas, John said, “I already don’t want to leave.”  It was a grueling trek across the Pacific.

Our first week here was mainly spent eating.  Ironically, it is Ramadan.  You could observe a slowness in many workers’ movements.  Apparently car crashes are more common during Ramadan, and I can only imagine the decrease in productivity.  The prayers heard from the temples over loudspeakers throughout the city had a different tone from when I was here last; they sounded eerie, almost scary.

The restaurants and malls here (there are 68 malls and trade centers in Jakarta) are beautifully designed.  I haven’t had a disappointing meal yet in Indonesia, and the service is always wonderful.  I really want to try the street-side foodstalls but have heard horror stories of post-foodstall sickness… :S

We wandered around Jakarta’s Chinatown, which is similar to Chinatowns all over the world - colorful, crowded, smelly.  The traffic throughout Jakarta was as bad as I remembered.  Hundreds and hundreds of motorbikes squeeze past slow-moving cars.  We were armed with books and electronics to keep us from boredom when driving anywhere.

We visited nearby Bogor’s Botanical Garden, where John had a field day (ha ha) with all the different types of plants and flowers.  We had an excellent meal there with fresh fruit juices (real fresh fruit with no sugar added…a thoroughly un-American drink).

John and I got a couples massage at the Shangri-la Hotel next door to my parents’ place at the Shangri-la Residences.  It was so lavish!  Indonesian service really is incredible.  Afterwards we had drinks and read by the pool with Alexa…  As a city of mostly government and business, Jakarta doesn’t offer tourists a whole lot to do, though it is starting to change that.

December 29, 2010-January 9, 2011 | Jakarta, Indonesia

+ On Java Island, one of Indonesia’s 17,500+ islands

+ Capital of the fourth largest country in the world, regarding population

+ Indonesia has over 700 languages

+ Indonesia has the largest Muslim population in the world

+ Third-world country, though richly endowed with natural resources

+ Second most corrupt country in the world, after Nigeria

+ National motto: Unity in diversity

+ Obama lived in Indonesia for a few years as a child, so the Indonesians especially love him

+ Jakarta traffic is so bad that the government is considering moving the capital of Indonesia to another city, in order to help relieve traffic

It is my first visit to a third-world country, which immediately struck me upon leaving the airport.  Kampungs - villages of houses little better than cardboard boxes - lined the roads.  Throughout the trip, it gradually sunk in that people really live this way, on so little means and day by day.  It’s one thing seeing it on TV or in a magazine, but it’s another to witness it every day while you are living a completely different life from them.

For the next three years, my parents are living in Central Jakarta.  They made the move from Houston because of my dad’s work; they were glad to be rid of my sister and me and to finally venture abroad again.  I’m not complaining, because it gives me a good excuse to travel.  Their way of life here is much different than in Houston.  Security checks - complete with guards, gates, metal detectors and dogs - are commonplace at the entrances of hotels, residences, and large public places because of recent terrorist attacks.  They are living in a 19th floor apartment, which you arrive at by an elevator that opens onto your own private lobby, accessible only by a fingerprint scanner.  Most people in Jakarta have a driver, because the traffic is so awful here.  Jakarta is not a city you can walk in, and it would be suicidal to try.

The sharp contrast between the kampungs and skyscrapers is new to me.  Food stalls and motorcycle taxi stations are beside some of the grandest malls I’ve seen (which is saying a lot, coming from a Dallas girl!).  The city has lots of trees, as well as canals left over from Dutch influence that now serve no purpose.  Muslim calls to prayer can be heard several times a day from a mosque behind my parents’ apartment.  Motorbikes carrying families up to four (or carrying large objects: my mom once saw a man holding a toilet on his bike) weave in and out of traffic that has very few rules or stop signs.

I like Jakarta.  The most striking thing about it is the Indonesian people’s kindness.  You are without fail greeted with a smile.  The smile seems genuine, not just something to do because it’s polite.  I thought the same thing while in Japan - the kindness there was also striking to my American sensibilities.

Another thing that I found particularly interesting was that although Indonesia is a third-world country, and although we were in the city, I saw no beggars.  That’s because the Indonesians try to earn their money, in any way possible, rather than beg for it.  There are people who help you reverse from your parking spot into a busy road; that hop into your car for a short distance and small fee so you can meet the 3-person requirement and take advantage of the HOV lane; that signal and help you over a narrow, hilly road in which you can’t see oncoming traffic… It’s wonderful that they believe in some sort of exchange, instead of expecting you to simply put money in their hand.

I also don’t think I’ve ever eaten so well in my life.  Restaurant after restaurant that my parents took me to were not only good, it was amazing.  And as you know from previous blog posts, I like my food!

December 19-27 | Orange County, California

My parents flew in from Jakarta, my sister flew in from New York City, and I flew in from Dallas to Huntington Beach, California, to spend Christmas with my grandparents. I hadn’t seen my dad since May and my mom since September.

We spent the week eating, shopping, eating, and eating. I managed to throw a few workouts in there, including one spectacular run along Huntington Beach at sunset and a few at Mile Square Park. I didn’t get to try surfing as I had hoped to, because California got about 2/3s of its annual rainfall in two weeks. We did get some sun though, including on Christmas Day, where we had banh mi (Vietnamese sandwiches) for lunch at Corona del Mar beach.

Visits to my grandparents are the only times when I actually feel Vietnamese.  We eat Vietnamese food every day and watch Vietnamese things (including the Vietnamese version of “Dancing with the Stars” - quite entertaining). I really know very little about the culture – my mom moved from Vietnam to England for university when she was 17 and is white-washed in many ways (similarly, though my dad is English, he now feels more American).

Let me take a moment to tell you how awesome my grandfather is. He is 87-years-old and has more life in him than most people my age. I took it as a huge compliment when my mom said that I am like him, in that I am adventurous and constantly seeking new experiences. Just a tiny list of his many accomplishments:

+ Worked as President of the Court of Appeals in Saigon before appointed as Deputy Minister, then Minister of the Interior.

+ Ambassador of the Republic of South Vietnam in Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Iraq, Iran, and Italy.

+ Attorney

+ Professor

+ Lecturer on Asian cultures on various California campuses.

+ Has been invited by various Vietnamese communities and associations as keynote speaker on Human Rights in the US, Europe, and Canada.

+ Current Publisher/Editor-in-Chief of the French-English Quarterly Human Rights-Droits de l’Homme in California since 1994.

Aaaand he goes to Gold’s Gym every morning. Quote, “I feel like Tarzan!”

He is still friends with important diplomats and politicians from before and during the war. One stopped by the house one afternoon, and he good-naturedly complained of having to take care of his grandkids’guinea pigs; it was hilarious to hear him, in his Vietnamese-French-English accent, call them “fat and sassy!”

California really does have my heart.  It’s laid-back, it’s flashy, it’s city and nature, it’s diverse, it’s liberal, (yes, it’s bankrupt)… I will live here again one day!

November 27-28 | New York City

Saturday morning Alexa and I did some hot yoga (“turn your left foot towards 8th Avenue…”).  Painful, ugh.  Grabbed some Jamba Juice on the way back, soaked in our own sweat as we braved the blistering cold winds.

 

After cleaning up we went to the Chelsea and Brooklyn flea markets.  We had some great food, including a new favorite, pupusas.  They’re like soft tacos, except that the meat is inside the tortilla.  So amazing!

Then we did some art gallery hopping, which I liked because it was less committal than visiting a museum.  We saw some less mainstream Andy Warhol stuff, some Roy Lichtenstein stuff, some good stuff, lots of bad stuff.  Fine art is such a funny thing, but there is inevitably someone who likes the stuff you think can’t possibly even be considered art.

These, though, I found sort of interesting:

Kim Dorland

Wangechi Mutu

We saw “Chicago” on Broadway.  It wasn’t my favorite, but it was good.  It felt like every other scene was good, and the ones in between were not so good.  Love “He Had It Comin’” and “Mr. Cellophane.”

Mac, Alexa, and I had a late night dinner at Cafeteria.

Sunday morning Alexa and I wandered Chelsea Market and the meat-packing district.  We had brunch at a quaint cafe, Cafe Cluny.  A little pricey, but great food!  The $7 ham and cheese croissant is amazing.

And now it’s back to good ole Texas.

November 24-26 | New York City

Escaping to Manhattan to spend Thanksgiving break with my sister.  It’s the first Thanksgiving the whole family isn’t together - my parents recently moved to Indonesia - so it’s a bit sad, but at least Alexa and I get to spend it together.

Totally got Kenzie to take me to the airport super early Wednesday morning, supposedly one of the busiest travel days in 60 years - yeah, lies.  Security took five minutes to go through, so I just chilled and read for two hours before my boarding the plane.

Alexa and I had delicious gyro plates for dinner at a Greek place called Uncle Nick’s.  We bought stuff for our Thanksgiving feast tomorrow at Whole Foods, which was positively swarming with last-minute shoppers.

Alexa’s designs for her collection for Fusion, a spring competition between Parson’s New School of Design and the Fashion Institute of Technology.  She was one of fifteen students chosen from F.I.T. to compete.  Her boyfriend Mack won last year.

We went to see HP7, and I came away from it with mixed feelings… I think it was a good interpretation of the book, and it was definitely an entertaining movie.  It seemed like they depended a bit too much on special effects and loud noises though.  Awkward scenes include: Harry and Hermione making out in the nude in Ron’s horcrux nightmare (for an unnecessarily long time/shouldn’t have happened at all?) and the suggestive lesbian/rape scene between Bellatrix and Hermione (anyone, anyone?).

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Thursday morning Alexa and I watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade from four blocks away in the warmth of our hotel.  We could hear the parade from our window, but weren’t willing to deal with crowds and 40 degree weather.  We did run into the parade crowd and performers on the way to breakfast at Brooklyn Bagels.  A man was giving out free elbow bumps instead of free hugs…?  I didn’t hesitate to cordially bump elbows with him.  Also I dropped my camera lens cap later and a person kindly picked it up and handed it back to me.  I’m thankful for nice New Yorkers!  Which - as I said in my last NY blog post from May - is really not uncommon.

Brooklyn Bagels was delicious - I had a whole wheat bagel, half with scallion cream cheese, half with apple cinnamon cream cheese.  Sitting at my table, I saw a lady alone at a booth wiping away tears, and I wanted to go over and hug her and say happy thanksgiving, but I didn’t.  I should have.

Alexa single-handedly made our Thanksgiving meal (my culinary expertise was cast to the wayside), and it was wonderful!  Mack joined us for the feast.

Right now Alexa and I are hanging out in the Ace Hotel’s dark and sophisticated lobby, sipping on coffee.  It’s seriously so dark in here I just see people moving around as shapes… :S

My stomach was finally ready for dessert around 11:30 pm.  We went to Tick Tock Diner for some NY cheesecake yummm.

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After some Black Friday shopping, Alexa and I found a cozy eatery, Le Grainne Cafe.  We got an amazing chicken ratatouille sandwich and a tomato, mozzarella, and proschiutto sandwich on crispy baguettes.  The apple tart with vanilla bean ice cream afterward was delicious too… I realize the majority of this post consists of play-by-plays of everything I put in my mouth - sorry, I <3 food.

We took a nap back at the hotel, only to rest up for more eating.  We met Mack at Boka, a sleek Asian restaurant where we got two huge plates of wings, fries, and a watermelon drink, as seen below:

Afterward we went to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre for a comedy improv tournament.  There was some good stuff, but a lot of it was surprisingly bad.  I could have been up there for goodness sake.

travel philosophy / life after dreaming

I don’t care if you can spot an American tourist a mile away toting his Rick Steves guidebook - they’re so useful!  Here’s (an abbreviated version of) what he has to say about travel:

Rick Steves’ Travel Philosophy

Travel is freedom… one of the last great sources of legal adventure. Travel is intensified living, with maximum thrills per minute. It’s recess, and we need it. Experiencing the real Europe requires catching it by surprise, going casual… Through the Back Door.

Extroverts have more fun. If your trip is low on magic moments, kick yourself and make things happen. If you don’t enjoy a place, maybe you don’t know enough about it. Seek the truth. Recognize tourist traps. Give a culture the benefit of your open mind. See things as different but not better or worse. Any culture has much to share.

Of course, travel, like the world, is a series of hills and valleys. Be fanatically positive and militantly optimistic. If something’s not to your liking, change your liking. Travel is addicting. It can make you a happier American, as well as a citizen of the world. Our Earth is home to nearly 6 billion equally important people. It’s humbling to travel and find that people don’t envy Americans. Europeans like us, but with all due respect, they wouldn’t trade passports.

Globetrotting destroys ethnocentricity. It helps you understand and appreciate different cultures. Travel changes people. It broadens perspectives and teaches new ways to measure quality of life. Many travelers toss aside their hometown blinders. Their prized souvenirs are the strands of different cultures they decide to knit into their own character. The world is a cultural yarn shop. Back Door Travelers are weaving the ultimate tapestry.

Join in!

–Rick Steves

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I was expecting to be depressed coming back from Florence.  I was expecting the culture shock the American couple told me about.  Surprisingly, driving back from the airport (I missed driving my car more than I missed some people), I felt like I had been in Kingwood all summer.  I’m not depressed.  Rather, after experiencing so many people and places, I’m excited about life and the future, as corny as it sounds.  I do feel like I awoke from a dream, but awoke to a good, but different, reality.

An effect of living overseas I did not expect: appreciating America even more.  The people, though unfashionable, are friendly.  The Houston airport employees were so good-natured.  I went on a long run yesterday morning and was delighted with how everyone says hello to each other on the greenbelt trails.  I also saw Kingwood through an outsider’s eyes, and found the greenbelts and lakes beautiful.  The houses in the States are so big and have their nice little gardens, and the neighborhoods are so quiet and peaceful.

It’s good to be home, and I’m looking forward to return to Dallas to see my friends.  Florence… I’ll be back.

Arrivederci Firenze…!

By the way, no one says arrivederci in Italy.

On my last night in Florence, Jess and I got some pasta to go and some gelato and watched the sun set over the city from Piazzale Michelangelo.  The view still amazes me, even more so that night than any other.  As Jess pointed out, Florence is unique in that when you have a view of the city, you also have a view of all the surrounding countryside of beautiful Tuscany.

Florence is also unique in that it is small.  I’ll run into the same people over and over.  We’ll know which street artists frequent which piazzas and when… A local said that it’s nice that it’s small, but then of course everyone talks about each other.  It has a small town feel, as well as a big city feel.

And of course, Florence is unique in its history.  It is the birthplace of the Renaissance, and that is still apparent today.   Replicas of sculptural masterpieces decorate every piazza, street names boast the surnames of creative geniuses, and the number of museums and churches goes on and on.  In the center, all the buildings are beautiful and hundreds of years old.  Not a skyscraper or modern building in sight.


Over an amazing dinner on my second to last night in Florence at Trattoria Icce C’e C’e, Jess and I spoke to an older American couple vacationing in Europe.  They asked if it was our first time in Italy (yes) and warned us that the culture shock comes when you go back to the States…

After dinner Jess and I walked around the city, and then I had a great night dancing one last time with my Italian fling and his friends.

On their last night, Alex and Han, along with a couple girls from our school, got invited to an architect’s villa and got drunk with several 40-50 year olds.  Oh, the connections you make in Italy…

Amalfi Coast

Napoli, Pompeii, Sorrento, Capri, and Positano.  This was one of the most beautiful weekends of my life.  I would see something and think, “Wow, this is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen”, and then see something else the next day and think the same, and then the next day…

Napoli is, as Rick Steves says, “the best and worst of Italy.”  It is a colorful city, in more ways than one.  Napoli is pink and green and blue buildings, palm trees, rich and poor.  It’s also filthy.  And I had not seen true Italian driving until I came here.  In Florence, cars and pedestrians are side by side in the streets, as Vespas zoom by.  In Napoli, there are, and I quote a native, “mostly no rules.”  This was made very apparent on our way to our second hostel.  Our first hostel lost our reservation, so the guy behind the desk drove us to another one they had contacted for us (in retrospect, a potentially sketch situation).  The guy was really nice though and apologetic for the inconvenience.

Jess and I had some great pizza for dinner (Napoli is, after all, the birthplace of modern-day pizza) and then walked around the city afterwards.  The next day we went to the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, which was excellent.

We took a train to Pompeii.  Jess, getting her masters in Italian history and having once aspired to be an archaeologist, was the perfect person to tour Pompeii with.  We spent hours there.  It’s amazing that so much of the city is still intact, not to mention the frescoes.

After spending the day in Pompeii, we headed over to Sorrento.  Our hotel had free towels AND air-conditioning!  We were living in the lap of luxury.

First thing we did when we got in (after turning the air-conditioning on) was go on a run around town.  We had a great run, and it was a wonderful way to get ourselves situated with the town before going out.  Sorrento has small and quiet streets, with crowds mostly in the piazzas and on the main drag.  There are plenty of places to perch and watch the sea from high above, and lots of flowers spilling over walls along the tiny stone streets.  We had dinner at Trattoria da Emilia, right on the water.  The mussels with lemon appetizer was delicious; I thought I didn’t like mussels, but apparently I hadn’t had them fresh before…!

Jess and I had hours of conversation that would have made an eavesdropper assume we were smoking something.  Fresh off the archaeology museum and Pompeii, we pondered what future generations will gather from the artifacts left by our generation.  All of our information is stored on electronic devices that won’t be able to be turned on in thousands of years.  Perhaps future humans will be so advanced that they can figure out how to?  And what will our generation be known for?  The iPhone?  Lady Gaga?  Fake tans, boob jobs, and plastic surgery?  Also, what will humans do with our growing technological power?  Will they use it for good or bad?  Genetic engineering?  With advanced technology being such a recent phenomenon, we are only just starting to feel the effects of, for example, cars: we realize the issues of limited resources and pollution.  People are scared about what radiation from cell phones is doing to our brains.  We don’t know what technology is doing to us, yet.  And will the discovery of its negative effects really make us any more careful about how we use it in the future? …Food for thought.

The next day we took a fast ferry to Capri.  Capri is absolutely gorgeous.  The water is an incredible array of blues, and with the boats parked in the dock of a town full of beautiful, slightly worn buildings… Let’s say it made me whip out my camera faster than anything so far on this trip.

We first ventured to the Blue Grotto.  The ride there was heavenly, with stone cliffs disappearing into the clouds on your left, and the wide, sparkling sea on your right.  Unfortunately, we chose to visit the grotto when everyone else did, so after an hour of riding about, we finally got our turn.  Jess, another tourist, and I climbed into a tiny rowboat with the boatman and fought our way into the grotto’s entrance, a hole that can barely fit our tiny rowboat, and can only do so with all of us, including our boatman, laying down.  He grabs a chain and pulls us into a small cavern, filled with other boats like ours.  The water is just as I had heard, a glowing light blue, somehow created by reflections from the sun inside the cave.  Another boatman was singing “O Sole Mio.”

After a few minutes, we fought for our way out and headed to Anacapri by tram and bus for a ride on a chairlift.  It’s a funny concept, just sitting in a chair (with nothing but a small bar across the armrests to keep you from falling out), as you slowly float over hills and people’s gardens 1900 feet up to the top of the island.  From the top are some of the most beautiful vistas I have ever seen.

Back down from the chairlift, we were wandering a gorgeous, quiet street (white-washed buildings with bursts of color from the flowers), when we ran into Josh Hartnett!  He was eating lunch with a group of friends on the patio of a tiny restaurant on this tiny street we were walking down!  Later we heard some other girls say they saw Denzel Washington in Capri and Positano. :o

After spending an hour on the beach, we took another incredible ferry ride to Positano.  That’s when I said, for the fifth time, “This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen!”  Simply pulling up to the town is incredible.  It’s a semi-circle of looming, colorful buildings stacked up on cliffs whose tops are disappearing into the clouds.  Truly incredible, I can’t even describe, and pictures certainly don’t do it justice.

After finding our way to our hostel, higher up in the cliffs, we went to dinner at Ristorante Bruno.  We ate on a quiet terrace with another incredible (I’m running out of effective adjectives) view of the dock we pulled into way down below.  The moonlight was fucking reflecting off the water - it was surreal!!  Jess and I had a romantic dinner by candlelight haha.  The pasta was fresh and homemade.

The next day we spent on the beach.  The beaches here have rocks instead of sand, and the water is salty but perfectly cool.  Definitely saw a little old woman tanning topless and lots of guys in speedos.

We took a bus from Positano to Sorrento, and a ghetto train from Sorrento to Napoli.  The train was packed and it was painfully apparent there was no sort of air-conditioning whatsoever.  It was filled with teenagers coming back from the beach.  They were super rowdy - yelling, banging, chanting, flirting.  A family behind us was obviously complaining about them and hit the windows when the teenagers finally got off.  Bad idea.  Several teenage boys walked over to the family’s window and, Jess said, one of them spit at one of the women inside.  Then everyone really started banging on the train windows as we pulled out of the station.  Roughin’ it…

So of course, what with the hoodlums on our train, it pulled into Napoli forty minutes late, making us miss the last train to Florence.  It was eight at night and the ticket machines said the next train was at four in the morning.  We ran into a few other girls that were in the same pickle.  After a long time of trying to figure out an alternative, we bought a ticket that left Napoli at 9:08 that night and got into Pisa at 3:25 a.m., and another ticket that left from Pisa at 4:15 a.m. and got into Florence at 5:27 a.m.  It was the train ride from hell.  Naples is a super sketchy place (a guy with cuts all over his arms and face asked us for money at the station) and the people on our train weren’t much better.  The compartment on our train (yes, Harry Potter-style) was full of men who fortunately didn’t make us feel uncomfortable.  Again, no air, and I’m surprised I even went to sleep for a few minutes it was so uncomfortable.

At Pisa Centrale, the station in Pisa, Jess grabbed a bench to nap on, while I tried to find some water since I was parched.  After three vending machines - one of which ate my euro, none of which would spit out the water I paid for - I wanted to cry and thought to myself, “I’m done with Italy!!!”  I want my fucking free water fountains!  Other things I miss, in order from least to greatest: customer service, free bathrooms, and air-conditioning.

Got into Florence on time for sunrise.