Where in the world is Uncle Jeff today?

Surprise Visit to Hong Kong (sort of)

2012-01-11T05:21:00.000-08:00

[Wednesday, January 11th, 9:45 pm, Hong Kong Time]

I hadn't anticipated another blog posting before I got back to the States when I could post photos. Instead, here I am in the Business Class Lounge at Hong Kong airport, at a time when I should have been flying east across the Pacific.

The morning began fine. A good breakfast at the Sofitel in Saigon. Fond farewells to other guests. An uneventful cab ride to the Ho Chi Minh airport. Some interesting snacks in the Business Class lounge there.

I should have checked our flight status before going to the gate, but it turns out our plane from Hong Kong was arriving late. An hour late. That pushed our departure back an hour. We only had an hour and 15 minutes to make our connecting flight to Los Angeles, so this was cutting extremely close. I asked the flight attendant after we took off if Cathay Pacific would hold the flight for us, and she told us that 1) they were aware of the problem (after all, it was their flight that was late to begin with), and 2) they would move us up to business class just before landing so we could deplane quickly.

Sure enough, just as they began to make their final approach, they moved about a dozen or so passengers with tight connections to business class. As soon as the business class gate opened, I rushed past everyone making it to the gate agent first. "Los Angeles," I yelled. "We are putting you on a later flight," he calmly replied. "Please sit over there." There were four flights leaving with 20 minutes of our arrival; all connecting passengers on those flights were reticketed. I guess they felt that since our baggage wouldn't make it, we shouldn't either.

I'd been kind of hoping that we wouldn't make our flight so I would have the opportunity to explore Hong Kong. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. We've been reticketed on a flight leaving tonight at 11:45 pm, roughly eight hours after our arrival. They gave us a voucher for a hotel room connected to the airport. I asked about meals, so they also gave us two $75 HK vouchers for meals in the airport.

That meant we needed to clear both immigration and customs, and then get set up in the hotel. The "Regal Airport Hotel" looks from the outside like a large car park, though it had a relatively fancy interior. We got our rooms and I took a shower while dad watched the news. I went down to the business center to use their computer terminals, but found that the charge $3 HK per minute for them. They do, however, provide 2 hours free WiFi in the lobby, so I sent emails out about our change of flights. It was around 5:30, and neither of wanted to get money (we're nearly out of cash), find our way into the town without any idea of where to go, and then rush back so as to not miss our flight.

Instead, we walked back to the airport to use our meal vouchers. $75 HK works out to about $10 US. We skipped Burger King in favor of a Chinese fast food place. The name was in Kangi script, though it had a superscripted two, like it was squared, above the name. We ordered the "Maxim's Roast Goose" with rice and the wonton soup with noodles. The goose was beyond awful. The skin was the opposite of soggy: it was as hard and tough as beef jerky. The meat was cold, hard, and rubbery, except for the bones, which were just hard and cold. The soup was insipid.

We went back to the hotel, where dad took a nap and I walked around for a bit. I went outside, but it was night already, somewhat cold, and there was no where to walk to, since the hotel sits on a service road leading to the taxi ramps for the airport. I ended up returning to the room and trying to nap for about an hour.

When we got up at 8, we found the hotel had put some dinner vouchers under our door. If only, if only.... We went down for dessert. They had a pretty decent spread, and the ice cream was excellent, far better than any we had received on the ship. After that we checked out and went back to the airport.

We had no problem with immigration control or security, but some finding the Business Lounge. They had several, and I found one just opposite our gate. We were nearly there when dad insisted on stopping for directions. They told him that this lounge was closed for renovations. "Aren't you glad I asked?" he crowed. We walked the length of one wing of the terminal to get to the other lounge. There we learned that the original lounge isn't closed and would really be best for us since it's so close to our gate. "That way you won't have to rush back." We returned to the original lounge.

So here I am in the Business Class lounge with two hours to go before my flight to LA. I'm going to try to sleep on the flight, but I think I was reticketed to a middle seat. I'm hoping that perhaps these seats will at least recline. Otherwise, it's going to be a very long flight to LA.

Above the City - Updated

2012-01-09T20:22:00.000-08:00

[Tuesday, January 10, 11:50 am, Vietnam time]

Last night, seven of us bundled into a large taxi to go to the Rex Hotel. This was the center of activity during the height of the Vietnam War. The rooftop bar was highly recommended, so we had reservations. Despite being a warm night, the rooftop was cool and breezy. Beige lanterns with golden designs hung from a wooden lattice and swayed in the wind. A large golden crown was perched on the corner, with stone elephants guarding it. If we leaned at the railing we could make out the former French colonial Hotel de Ville; elsewhere we saw the gleaming high rises of modern Ho Chi Minh City.

After confirming that the ice and water were all made with bottled water, we ordered our drinks. I had a mai tai and it was terrific. Janet ordered some Vietnamese appetizers: some kind of prawn-filled spring roll that was then deep fried. It was great. I'm not sure the $9 drink was really one of the "1000 things to do before you die," but it was a beautiful ambience, and certainly it was worth it having drinks and laughs with friends.

Then it was off to the restaurant: Vietnamese House. We had reservations for 8:30 pm, and it was only a few blocks away, but the traffic looked daunting so we took a taxi. Then something extraordinary happened: our taxi overshot the restaurant so he backed up, through the intersection and partially against the light! None of us could believe it, but he kept going, slow, deliberate, and with confidence until we were parked in front of the restaurant.

Our table was on the third floor, so we climbed up two different stairwells until we reached the large, round table they had reserved for us. I think at this point, we were all glad we didn't walk after all, so we save our strength for the stairs. We ended up getting four separate checks.

The meal was quite good. I got the pumpkin blossoms stuffed with prawn meat and then deep fried as an appetizer, and it vaguely reminded me of the stuffed zucchini blossoms I had had in Italy. Dad and I each got a main course of roast duck (his with orange sauce, mine with pepper corn sauce), and we split some sauteed morning glory with garlic. Dad was shocked when the bill arrived, as it was $30 for both of us, including the bottle of beer we each had. "That's all??!" he said. Then we went back to the hotel.

This is the third Sofitel I've stayed at on this trip and I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, the lobby, the service of the staff, and the restaurant buffet this morning were the best of the trip. On the other hand, the room has problems in design and layout.

First was our inability to find the thermostat. It turned out that the electric clock on the nightstand (which is 30 minutes too fast) also controls the room temperature. After searching, I found the lightswitch for the bathroom, but couldn't find one for the hall, until I went back to the control clock and found the button there. It's as if Microsoft decided to design a hotel room.

We slept well, and I managed to sleep until 7:30 am (according to the clock; according to reality is was closer to 7). The shower-tub had good water pressure, though I would prefer a walk-in shower for my father.

As I mentioned, the breakfast buffet was top-rate fabulous. Dad loved the lox and bread, and they had far more options than anywhere else we have eaten. We kind of pigged out. We ran into Carl and Carol and they asked what we're doing for dinner, so we invited them to join us.

For the morning, I suggested we take a long walk. Saigon is a interesting mix of old and new. At dinner, we had an interesting conversation with the waiter, who had come south from the Hanoi area. He said he preferred Saigon. It was more prosperous and people were closer. In Hanoi, he said, it was just poor and rich. I also think the people in Saigon seem happier and friendlier than in Hanoi, though the Cambodians we met exceed them in both areas.

It's still a bit of an effort to get dad to cross the street, but I have a hard time imagining how my mother would ever leave the hotel. Saigon has traffic lights, which really help a lot; it's far easier to cross the street here than in Hanoi. Dad kept waiting for a break in the traffic, but those rarely, if ever, came. I just kept repeating my mantra: slow, steadly, deliberate, and confident.

We stopped by a French restaurant I had read reviews of called Augustin, and we asked to see menus. It looked good and affordable (most entres in the $12-15 range, unless you wanted imported meat like steak, which upped the price to $25-30). Then we went to the Saigon Tax Trade Center (formerly the Russian market). This is large, enclosed, air conditioned mall. It was only 10 am, or so, so few people were out. We bought another piece of lacquerware for the same amount I paid yesterday, but with much less screaming and agony.

From there we continued down the boulevard to Saigon Square. This market is closer in design to the Ben Thanh market we were at yesterday, but there were almost no tourists, and no one assaulted us. Dad bought two more shirts, now at $5.50 each (he should have got them for $5, but the vendor rounded up from $10.10 to $11; I told dad to walk away, but he wasn't willing). After that, we continued down until we reached the Ben Thanh market. I got a few photos of the market for my scrap book, and then we caught a taxi back to the hotel.

I haven't decided yet what to do this afternoon. I will almost certainly swim in the pool. It's on the 18th floor and has spectacular views of the city. I may read my book or I may go to the museum.

Tomorrow, we'll take our airport transfer to Ho Chi Minh airport. Thankfully, we don't have to leave until 9 am, which we allow us to sleep in and have good breakfast first. Cindy Newman, our travel agent in San Diego, worked out the errors made by AMAWaterways, so we shouldn't have any problems.

[Update: 9:15 pm]

After such a big breakfast, I decided on a light lunch of pho in the hotel's cafe. I ended up sitting next to Nancy, her husband Richard, and her father Donald. It turns out that Donald's late wife may have graduated from LA High School with my father's cousin Ruth, and that Donald's neighbor in the managed care facility (he's 94) was the aunt of a friend of mine.

We chatted for over an hour and the restaurant mistakenly combined our bills. I promised them that if they come to the corner in Beverly Hills on Saturday morning, I'll buy them all coffee and provide them cakes and cookies.

Afterwards, I went up to the roof deck on the 18th floor. It has spectacular views of Saigon, including the Prudential Building (which has what looks like two minarets), and the tallest building in Saigon, the Bitexco Financial Tower. Judy described it as shaped like a bullet, but it's modeled on a lotus petal. Around the 50th floor, the helopad juts out from one side in a very dramatic fashion.

I brought up my book and then went swimming. The pool isn't heated, but it's pretty warm here, so the water is refreshing. Afterwards, I wrapped myself in the robe and then finished the book while glancing at the scenery now and then.

The differences between Saigon and Hanoi couldn't be more dramatic. Not only is Saigon larger and far wealthier, the architecture is different. In Hanoi, the long, narrow style of building predominates, while here that seems to be far rarer. You see much more of the French (i.e. European style). There's far more neon and western-style advertising. While the streets are more crowded, they are also wider and better maintained. We didn't see anything corresponding to the Old Quarter in Hanoi, with the narrow lanes, with tunnel houses. From the 18th floor, the contrast is between the new, tall structures, and the older, red-tiled ones.

Carl and Carol joined us for dinner. Both they and dad wanted something other than Vietnamese food tonight. I had read good things about Augustin and made reservations for 6 pm. The food was excellent, and we had a long conversation with the owner. She talked about the problems she's had with some tour guides imposing surcharges on their guests who ate at the restaurant.

The restaurant itself was rather small; she had may be a dozen or so tables. The food is definitely French. Dad and I started off with the cream of pumpkin soup, while Carol had the French Onion soup, declaring it the best she's ever had. For the main course, dad and I both got duck again. He loved his Canard a l'orange, while I very much enjoyed my pan-caramelized duck breast with ginger. For dessert, Carl and I both ordered the crepe with strawberry and coconut ice cream (very good), while dad had the crepes suzette, which he said were the best he's ever had.

They all insisted I take the front seat of the cab on the way back, so I had a ring-side view of the mayhem on the road. We had several near misses with mopeds, and one time, as we were coming down the street partially on the wrong side, he honked at a police van to get out of his way!

We're all packed, so I went up to the roof for one last view of Saigon at night. Again, I was struck by how different it is from Hanoi. Of course, the difference with Phnom Penh is even more enormous; it's as if they occupy different planets, or perhaps centuries would be more accurate.

I had one last chat with Janice, Kathy, Dave, and Janet. Their transfer will be at 3 am (yuck!). Of course, while ours is at 9 am, we'll be sharing it was Frau Fabissiner (yuck!).

Hopefully, the next entry will be either en route or from home with selected pictures (I've taken over a thousand).

The War in Saigon

2012-01-09T01:49:00.000-08:00

[Monday, January 9th, 5:40 pm, Vietnam Time]

Last night was all about packing everything up. I thought I misplaced my new smart phone and went through everything in the room again and again, until I finally found it in the first place (and second place, and third place I looked). There's no light by the hall closet and I kept missing it as I felt around where I left it.

I learned last night one important reason why we were divided into four groups and were not intermingled. The Australians don't have a culture of tipping, so all their tips were included in their price. They only had to tip the cyclo or the tuk-tuk or the ox-cart driver. Since the Americans were tipping their guides and drivers and the Australians weren't the groups needed to be kept separate.

One way around this would be to make all the guide and driver tips inclusive; then they could allow each guest to choose which group he or she wanted (e.g., a group for slow walkers, or a group up for more adventurous activities). It would also means we wouldn't need to carry so many singles and five-dollar bills. We brought a lot but not nearly enough. In the future, I would advise anyone going on this trip to bring at least 100 single-dollar bills, and perhaps 30 five-dollar bills. If you plan on doing a lot of shopping, you might want to bring more.

For example, for all but one of the days so far, there's been a local guide. That guide gets $2-3 a day in tips. That means in 14 days of guided tours, we've paid out about $30 in tips just to the local guides. But when you add on top of that the daily drivers ($1-2) and special drivers, that's another $20. Then there's the tip to the cruise director (suggested: $28 per person) and the tip for the crew ($70 per person, though this can be put on the credit card). Not counting the crew tip, that's a total of $78 in cash tips before you even consider additional expenses, like taking a tuk-tuk to and from a restaurant, or any additional tips you might give.

Of course, you also need cash not only for tips for purchasing in the markets, which don't take credit cards.

I realize these expenses pale in comparison to the cost of the trip, but when you've only brought 40 singles with you and you suddenly realize you've got nowhere near enough, it becomes very annoying.

We all had to have our bags packed and by our cabin doors by 7 am. As has been my practice, I joined the early risers up on the sun deck around 6:30 am to watch the sun come up over the mangroves at My Pho. I went down around 7 to join dad for breakfast. We had to be out of our rooms by 7:15, but they didn't force the issue. After getting our stuff I gave the two receptionists, Kenny and Jem, an extra tip for their friendly and helpful service. At 8:15, we disembarked and got on our buses for the 1.5 hour drive to Saigon.

As we already have seen, South Vietnam is far more prosperous and fertile than either North Vietnam or Cambodia. We passed many lush rice paddies, broken up only by sugar cane, banana trees, or houses. Our first stop in Saigon was Thien Hau Temple, dedicated to the goddess of the seas. Inside there were three courtyards. In the middle (which is the one we first entered from the side), there was a large, elevated, rectangular metal box in which a fire blazed. People would burn prayers (?) inside.

The inner most couryard had tables spread out with roast pigs and other foods, which were set before a large shrine to the goddess of the seas. Around the top of the walls of this courtyard were elaborate Chinese carvings depicting scense from Chinese mythology. The food, our guide explained, is first presented to the goddess as an offering, and, now blessed, is taken home to be eaten.

As we were walking around, teenagers dressed in matching track suits began bringing in long paper dragons. The Chinese new year is in two weeks, so each of these eight dragons is carried by a different dance troupe, and they perform in front of individual homes to drive away bad spirits and bless the home for the new year. Before they do so, however, they need to be blessed themselves by the goddess, and this is why they were crowding into the temple.

When we came to the outermost courtyard in front, there were a group of troupe members pounding Chinese drums as part of the ceremony. Even dad, who doesn't usually like to visit houses of worship as a tourist, enjoyed himself.

I heard later from some in the "yellow" group, that Mr. Krohbuy loudly announced when they arrived at the temple that he didn't come to Vietnam to see Chinese things. I told them that ignorance is its own punishment.

Our next stop was the Reconciliation Palace. This was the original Presidential Palace of South Vietnam. We heard about the four presidents of South Vietnam, including the first Diem, who was assassinated with the support of the CIA (though that fact wasn't mentioned). We saw the conference room and the dining room, and the two tanks that were used to capture the building in 1975.

After that we visited the old French Post Office, which really looks like a nineteenth-century train station, and has some great old French-era wall maps of Cochin-China and Saigon.

As we drove around dad kept asking me if I could see a particular tall building. I kept saying that from where I sat, I could only see ground level. "You're not even trying!" he responded. I moved my seat to one six rows back where I could see.

Our last stop before lunch was at a laquerware factor, where we saw how they made this product. I decided to price out a platter for later, but I had no intention of buying anything there.

Lunch was at Indochine Restaurant and it was generally pretty good, but not really worth writing home about, so I won't.

Finally, we came to the Sofitel Hotel, which is a large, new hotel in the heart of Saigon. Our rooms were lovely and our luggage was already there waiting for us. Dad watched CNBC for a bit while I found a complimentary map of the city. We then headed downtown for a ride to the Ben Thanh Market.

This is Saigon's equivalent of the Central Market in Phnom Penh, but the could not be more different; it's like night and day. Our guide warned us that the sellers could be aggressive, but it was like nothing we had seen before. People didn't just call out to us; they grabbed our arms, several hit my chest or stomache, they held up clothing to our faces to block our way. It was rather uncomfortable.

After much tension and argument, we managed to find shirts that dad wanted to buy. After settling on five, he turned to me to negotiate. The shopseller typed $99 on a calculator. I laughed. She said "how much?" and handed me the calculator. I typed $35 and handed I back to here. She moaned and said "no, no." I pulled dad's arm to leave. She said "wait, wait," and typed $80. I typed $35 again. After much back and forth we settled on $45.

After that I made all the purchases. I bought some bamboo table mats at 1/6th the price I paid at the shop on the road to Ha Long Bay. I then found a laquerwood tray that I liked. In the factory shop they wanted $50-60 for this. "How much," I asked. "$25," she responded. I offered $15 and we settled at $16. In general, I assume if they agreed to the price I probably over paid.

By the way, Mr. Krohbuy joined us on the bus to the market and I got a sense of how annoying he must have been to the people in his group. He sat up in front and loudly commented on everything. For example, when the guide asked if we had picked up the complimentary maps from the hotel, he yelled, "yeah, from the hotel, not from the cruise." He would ask for street names and then mock the Vietnamese spelling and pronunciation. Thank God, it was only a 10 minute drive.

Dave and Janet have a book called 1000 Places to See Before You Die, and it lists two items for Saigon: the covered market with the hyper-aggressive sellers and the hotel bar on the roof of the Rex Hotel. This was the hotel where the U.S. military gave its regular five pm briefings to the press corp during the Vietnam War and it's supposed to be very, very nice. We have 7:30 pm reservations for drinks, but it isn't clear if we're eating there.

We agreed to join Dave and Janet, Kathy and Janice, and Jill for drinks. Dad was anxious about whether we're eating there or not, but I begged him just to play it by ear. "Which one?" he asked. "Yes," I responded. Part of the issue for the others is that the Rex Hotel may be too expensive for them for more than just drinks. I'm now going to go online and find some dining options near the Rex Hotel for tonight.

Tipping Point

2012-01-07T16:38:00.000-08:00

[Mekong Delta, Sunday, January 8, 7:35 am, Vietnam time]

Last night we had a lot of fun playing Liars' Club. Kathy, Janice, Jill, Dave, Janet, and I were all on one team. Unfortunately, we came in second, missing such questions as the origins of the name "Balsamic Vinegar" (they said the correct answer was two brothers, Balsa and Mic, whose last name was Vinegar, and who were killed in 1602, so their mother named the concoction after them! I still think they're wrong.]

We were given instructions on tipping last night and dad's rather upset that the crew tip (recommended: $10/day, per person, for 8 days) is not included in the bill, but is separate. He insists this wasn't in the pre-trip information or brochure, but I pointed out it was in the information booklet provided by our travel agent in San Diego (though I only got my copy of it the night before).

[2:00 pm]

Yesterday evening, I was up on deck watching the sunset with Kathy and Janice, and they mentioned that Jill was an executive with a specialty cruise line company. When she came over, I asked her opinion about the cruise, and she said she thought the company ought to better prepare guests for the ship. Sailing in Cambodia and Vietnam imposes many difficulties on the cruise line, difficulties that can be seen by customers. Instead of promising a five-star ship, they ought to be more upfront about it being three-to-four stars.

One major problem is guaranteeing high quality and hygienic food on board. What that often means here is that the quality of food and the availability of food options has been sacrificed in favor of health. Now, I'm not sorry about that decision; I'm happy to remain healthy. But many guests, used to what might be available on a European river cruise, might be disappointed.

I asked her what she thought of the policy of dividing us into "teams" for the duration of the trip. She said she understood why they did that: to guarantee tips to the drivers and to allocate passengers to guides and excursions, but that there were ways around that. For example, and this would make dad especially happy, they could include all tips in the cost of the cruise. Similarly, they could make individual groups first-come, first serve, so that when one filled up, you would take the next one. You could also divide people according to interest or ability: e.g., a slow-walkers group, etc.

We also talked about what we liked about this cruise: the rooms are very well appointed, and the excursions have been excellent. I'll write more about my overall assessment of the cruise in a later post.

This morning we had a terrific excursion. On paper it might look really dull: tour a brick-making factory. In reality, it was a lot of fun and very interesting. Here on the lower Mekong River, the water level is affected by the tides. At low tide, it was somewhat difficult to land, but eventually we made it. Here we watched them shape and form the clay tiles, fire them in enormous kilns fed by rice husks (for two months), unload the finished tiles, and stack them for export. The kilns are huge three story, brick monstrosities, using technology from the 19th century or earlier.

All the workers this morning were women and children (they work the morning 8 hour shift; the men work the afternoon and night shifts). We saw children pushing large and heavy barrels full of clay bricks. We asked two how old they are; the older one was 16, his younger brother was 14. No one wore safety equipment or helmets, and dad thought an OSHA inspector would have a heart attack here. I heard Frau Fabissiner debating child labor with Bob. She apparently grew up on a farm and thought there was nothing wrong with children helping their families out. Otherwise, she state, they end up on drugs or become criminals. I asked her if she thought those were the only two options: child labor or drug dealing.

After that we headed over to Sa Dec, where we toured the local fresh food market, and where I finally got to see live snakes for sale (they were right next to the live eels and the skinned rats). After that we visited a Chinese Buddhist temple. One thing I noticed is that since we left Cambodia, we have seen few to none Buddhist temples. This one serves the local Chinese community. One thing that stood out was the swastika image behind one of the Buddha statue. This was the image Hitler stole for his movement, but then reversed it for his usage.

Our final stop of the morning was the house of Marguerite Duras' chinese lover in the 1930s, and the setting for her novel, The Lovers. It was built in the French colonial fashion in the 1880s, and was the home of a prominent Chinese merchant family. After that we returned to the boat for lunch and now we're about to head to to see the floating village in Cai Be and a candy-making factory.

[Update: 5:05 pm]

This afternoon, we took our last boat excursion. Cai Be is famous for its floating market, but apparently most of the action is between 6 and 9 am; by the time we got there, there were less than a dozen boats. Still, you could see what people were selling by what was hanging from the pole in front: turnips, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, etc. If you want to buy, you sail up to the seller and get your merchandise.

Instead, we cruised along the canal looking at the homes open to the water. Small children bicycled along the small road near the water; people washed with the canal water; others motored by on their sampans. Some individuals have opened warehouses or factories on the canals. You can tell which ones are prosperous by the large, prominent house that has been put up behind the warehouse.

I asked the guide what happens when a storm or typhoon hits, and he said that the residents of the Mekong Delta believe themselves to be blessed and protected from such events. In fact, such storms only seem to hit once every 50 years.

Kathy asked about the designs on the front of the boats. He explained that originally, boats had a dragon design on the front and back. Now, many centuries later, they draw the two eyes on the front as a way of scaring the river monsters below the surface and bring good fortune to the ship.

We moored by a factory making various forms of candy. We walked through one shop, across a small lane and into the bigger shop. There we saw them pressing coconut and cooking the coconut milk and paste into a kind of caramel candy. We tried some of the fresh candy while it was still hot.

Next door they were puffing rice. To do that, they heated a giant wok to about 200 Celcius, and added black, river sand to it. Once the sand was the proper temperature they stirred in the rice. A few swishes and the rice popped white. Then they ran the sand and rice through a wire mesh that allowed the sand to pass but kept the puffed rice. After that, they shook it to remove the rice husks (which they then use as a fuel). After that, the coat the puffed rice in caramel. I tried the finished result; it was kind of like caramel corn, but a little drier.

After that they offered us tea and sweets. I had a piece of candied ginger and a small cup of jasmine tea. I browsed the souvenirs but they seemed to me rather overpriced. I was really happy, though, to finally see something I had heard about a week ago: snake wine.

They take a cobra or other venomous snake, kill it, and then dessicate it (which shrinks it). They then put it a bottle with a narrow spout, add the wine (and possibly snake blood) and then seal it. The wine causes the snake to rehydrate and expand, creating an illusion of a snake magically transported into a small bottle. Supposedly, the snake wine works like viagra. Sounds like snake oil to me.

We went back on the tender and went from there to the town's Catholic church. We arrived just as the school children were leaving for the day, so we saw the nuns arranging them in rows. Inside the church, they seem to have picked up a trick from the Buddhists and have added neon to the crucifix (we've heard the Buddhists have done this for the tourists).

Outside, I heard some high-pitched shrieking and we found half a dozen gibbon monkeys in cages. I watched someone feeding them, but kept my distance. Then it was back on the boat to return to the ship for our farewell dinner. Those of us staying the extra day in Saigon will have another farewell dinner Monday night. Tuesday will then be on our own.

Mr. Thinh, the cruise director, didn't have dad and my name down for transfers to the airport on Wednesday, but we assured him that his print out is out of date and the problem has been fixed. He's going to double check as well. I gave him our departure time and it turns out we will be sharing the transfer with Frau Fabissiner and her husband. I started to laugh and he said yes, he knows. I'm not sure if he meant, yes, he knows she's very fabissiner, or yes, he knows I think she's very fabissiner.

Meanwhile, many of the passengers remain confused over tipping. On the boat, I heard people continuing to ask how much to tip the guide and how much to tip the boat driver. We don't tip Mr. Thinh until tomorrow night, so that will give us a chance to pull out some money from an ATM (if we need it).

Amateur Anthropology

2012-01-06T15:36:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about one aspect of this trip that has most surprised me. While there have been elements of this trip similar to ones I've taken in the past (e.g., natural scenery - Ha Long Bay; archaeological sites - Angkor Wat; historical sites - Tuol Sleng prison), the dominant element has been anthropological. It's as if we're all amateur anthropologists following along with some National Geographic expedition.

There's a strong element, if not so much among the guides than among the guests, of "see the exotic people." Today, we're going to visit (I'm typing this preamble at 6:40 am, but will post it much later) a silk-making village "untouched by tourism." The only people who visit this town (other than Vietnamese) have been AMAWaterways in the last three years.

But what does that mean "untouched by to tourism?" Does this mean they are some pristine, authentic, untainted culture, guarded like in a nature preserve? People and cultures are dynamic processes. By my very presence, I'm changing the people around me. Is that always a bad thing? Do "exotic" peoples have an obligation to remain exotic to satisfy my desire to see things exotic? Aren't I objectifying them, treating them as "other," like animals in a zoo? These are all questions I've been struggling with on this trip.

Last night they had talent show for the crew. This mostly involved various crew members dancing for us and then trying to get the guests to dance too. Luckily, we were sitting the second row. As I explained to Kathy, Janice, and Jill (with whom we had a lovely dinner - though dad couldn't believe what they were telling him about a Medi-Jet program), I'm rhythm challenged. I have trouble spelling out "YMCA" (which was on the list of songs they did).

[1:30 pm, Cambodia Time]

This was one of the best excursions of the trip. We moored opposite the town of Tan Chao, close to the border with Cambodia. Even at night we could see we were no longer in Cambodia: buildings with neon lights, street lamps, and cars. This was confirmed during our excursions today.

We boarded the tender and sailed up stream to a small island in the Mekong. Until a month or so ago, this island was underwater. Now the level has gone down and they are growing rice and vegetables. Our boat passed sampans and larger fishing boats, as well as houseboats. We eventually landed disembarked on a dried mud embankment. We walked up a dirt path between fields and a bamboo wooden fence. Small children came running up yelling "hi!" Dad really enjoys handing out little candies to them.

There were farmers wearing conical hats weeding among the rice, or growing turnips, elephant grass, snap beans, or corn. Many had cattle such as cows or water buffalo. Most of the cows used in Vietnam aren't for dairy use. Many houses had a dog in front; they guard the house and ward off evil spirits. The dogs are extremely placid and rarely bark.

I snapped a photo of one young farmer, who watched happily as his children played around us. I showed him the picture I took and he grinned. The kids loved to see their photos. The island is remarkably fertile and is bright green from the numerous crops growing here. Some of the houses are raised on stilts to last through the flood season. When it floods, the people move to the mainland. Now, when the water level is lower, they come back to farm.

In one place we were able to see some rice that had been planted just as the water level was coming down and now has grains of rice visible. Eventually, though we had to get back on the boat.

I got on first, and since my life preserve didn't fit at all, I quickly switched it for dad's and waited for him to try it on. He was rather stunned when it didn't fit and I kidded him about eating too much on the island.

Our next stop was a floating fish farm. There were several sleeping dogs on the deck, but they ignored us as we took up seats around a large rectangular hole in the floor, covered by fencing. This was the entry to the fish farm. They raise snapper on this farm, but on others they raise tilapia or cat fish. This was a large wooden floored rectangular boat, resting on drums or booms to keep it afloat, with corrugated tin walls and a metal roof. The roof was high above our heads, and the boat connected to others, so one could if one wished, walk on to other boats and eventually to shore.

The guide explained the fish farming method and then threw in some fish food. We could see the snapper swarming for food. They were so energetic that one splashed water on my legs. After that, we walked back to the tender.

Our next stop was the mainland shore. Dad had a bit of a run in with Frau Fabissiner. She and her husband, like many of us, had trouble with the audio system they gave us (the have a tendency to give out after an hour). She and her husband stopped right after getting off to ask the guide for new receivers, leaving dad perched somewhat precariously on the block one steps on from the tender. He loudly told her that one shouldn't stop at the top of an escalator. She moved.

We walked through a small village until we came to the reed mat-making factory. Red and green dyed reeds were drying on a fence outside. Inside, there were half a dozen looms run by mostly young women, producing rolls of mats. At the end of the path was a gift shop, but most of what they sold looked like it was made elsewhere. I bought one gift that was made in the shop.

From there we walked to get on the cyclos. These are a kind of rickshaw, but using a bicycle. The driver sits in front and the passenger behind. One person per cyclo. After a lesson on how to get in and out, I volunteered to be the first to board. I had no problems. Many people were uncomfortable on them, including dad, though I thoroughly enjoyed it. The problem was that the leg room was too short for people long legs. I didn't mind resting them on top and bending them, but others didn't enjoy that.

Our last stop was the silk-weaving factory. They produce bolts of silk cloth, which are then dyed. They use the punch-card system, in which sheets of cards are used to determine the pattern. The importance of this system in later history is that this is where computers came from. Early calculating machine designers looked at English looms and their cards that controlled fabric designs and used them to make adding machines. These computer punch cards were still in use as late as 1984, when I graduated college, though I think they started to phase them out in law school in favor of the floppy disk.

As with the mat factory, most of the items for sale in the gift shop didn't appear to be manufactured in it, but I found a nice gift there that looked as if it was. After that it was back to the ship for lunch. I found lunch was one of the better meals on the ship. Dad and I both had the cold coconut soup, though he went for the hamburger (sans bun), while I had the fish and chips. Dad decided to bend one of his rules and have the creme caramel. It was quite good. I had some too and a large green (though ripe) banana.

For the rest of today, we sale down the Mekong until we reach Sa Dec. Tomorrow, we will explore the delta. I may swim again in the afternoon and then play the Liar's Club tonight (if I can find out how it's played).

A Quiet Day

2012-01-05T23:14:00.000-08:00

Friday, 6 January 2012, 2:15 pm, Cambodia time

Today we have no excursions. Around 6:30 am, the other ship moored next to us, La Margarite, repositioned to allow us to depart, so when I came out of the shower, the room was much lighter.

I went up on deck and had tea and chatted with the other early risers. Around 8 am, I went down to find dad and we had a leisurely breakfast, chatting with others. Then, it was back up on the sun deck.

Many people have been complimenting dad on the Tommy Hillfiger shirt he bought in Phnom Penh, so he's planning on getting some more in Saigon. Only these, he hopes, will have pockets in the front where he can store his glasses.

I was sitting with several of the smokers (who agreed to tolerate my non-smoking) and we told bad jokes, loudly. I heard that Mr. Krohbuy's obnoxiousness has extended to the staff. After Hanoi, we filled out evaluations and he ripped the guide for everything, getting the guide in trouble. Many of his group now intend to include a comment in their evaluations indicating that not only has the service been excellent, but that one member has been unduly critical of the staff.

Apparently, his wife has gotten used to the social rejection that flows from his behavior, and is quite nice herself. Unfortunately, she has to deal with the consequences of his boorish and insulting comments. From his comments yesterday, it appears he has hated everything about the trip, including the people, the culture, the food, the art, the architecture, the accommodations, and the environment. One wonders why he came.

I was talking to Steven and Terri this morning and we all agreed that we really needed more time in Phnom Penh to get to know the city better. They went out to dinner last night with their guide, and talked about watching people strolling and playing along the corniche, and then going to a dance club.

Today, it's been very quiet, with jungle and villages on one side of the river, and rice fields on the other, and the occasional sampan fishing. Lunch was ok. I stuck to salads and the pasta buffet, while dad ordered a hamburger. The apple tart was the first really good dessert of the voyage. We've all agreed that the food on board has been so-so. Not sure why. It's really been the only negative of the entire trip.

In about half an hour I'm going to change into my bathing suit and blind everyone on the sun deck with my pale whiteness. We're about to reach the border between Cambodia and Vietnam and will have to wait for about three hours for them to do all the paperwork. By tonight, we will be back in Vietnam.

Royal Palace and the Killing Fields

2012-01-04T21:12:00.000-08:00

[Thursday, January 5th, 12:10 pm, Cambodia time]

Usually it starts to get light around 6 am, but not today. When I walked out to the reception around 6:30 am, I saw that the AMA Waterways ship, La Margarite, is now moored next to us. The receptionist invited me to explore the other ship, so I walked around. The ship is somewhat smaller, with only 70 or so cabins. When I went up to the sundeck, I waved over to Carl, Steve, and Terri, who were smoking on the deck of the Amalotus. "Traitor!" "Mutineer!" they called back, laughingly. I hadn't seen a single passenger, but the receptionist said there only 30 or so on the ship and they were all sleeping.

About the ship, in comparison to Celebrity Xpedition, which dad rates a 10, he gives this a 7. I think the cabins on this ship are nicer than the ones we had in the Galapagos, but the Celebrity did a lot more for us. For example, on the Celebrity Xpedition, every time we came back from an excursion they gave us a wash cloth, hors d'ouevres, little sandwiches, and a small bar. Here, they give us the wash cloth and a "cocktail" that looks and tastes like melted jello.

On the Celebrity Xpedition, the dining hall was mostly buffet, with various stations. Here they have a small breakfast buffet and at lunch and dinner, most of the courses are ordered off the menu. I've generally been pleased with the main courses, though the desserts have been mediocre at best. The good news is that I'm not going to get fat splurging on cakes.

Dad asked for bananas at breakfast, and they brought him a plate of six small ones and one large one. I said it was a Barry Bonds banana. There weren't a lot of people at breakfast: about half the ship is either under the weather or recovering.

The morning expedition was to the Royal Palace. The buildings are quite exotic and beautiful, and while we would normally visit the palace, the ceremonial rooms were closed to tourists today. Based on the flags on display, the king will be greeting a delegation from the European Union later today.

Instead, we went to the Silver Pagoda. The guide explained that when the French came to Cambodia they introduced paper money to replace silver, so the Cambodians melted silver down and paved the floor with it. Dad stayed outside while I took of my shoes and went in. The centerpiece is the emerald buddha, which a three-foot tall meditating buddha carved out of solid emerald. In front was a standing figure coated in gold decorated in over 280 diamonds, the largest of which is 24 karats. The cases along the wall contained various silver and gold items. I have to say, I found it more interesting and impressive than the crown jewels in the Tower of London.

Afterwards, we toured the National Museum and saw many of the fine statues and carvings that were found in Angkor Wat and elsewhere, but the highlight for me was chatting with a group of Cambodian college students in the garden at the end. They were all posing for pictures by the koi ponds and one dropped his camera case. I pointed it out to them and we had a brief chat. They are studying archaeology at the university in Phnom Penh. The one who spoke the best English was from Kompong Thom, so I mentioned we had driven through it. One girl asked him something in Khmer and so he asked me if I had been to Kompong Chhnang. I said yes. He asked what I liked best there. That was a tough one because it's hard for me to remember all the Cambodian names of the places we've been. I named the floating village and the monastery at Kompong Trelach, and they seemed to recognize my confused pronunciations.

Our last stop was the Central Market, where we had done so much shopping yesterday. Dad finally broke down and bought sunglasses. I suggested the Rayban aviators, so she had him try on a pair that were polarized. How much? I asked. "$20" We eventually bargained it down to $16. Later I convinced dad to buy a polo shirt, which we bought for $6. Then we caught an early bus back to the ship.

[Update: 8:15 pm]

The desserts at this lunch were slightly more appetizing then usual. I tried the khmer pastries and some were actually good. Dad ordered an ice cream (not on the menu) and they wouldn't bring him one.

After lunch, while we were waiting to go to the killing fields of Cheung Ek and Tuol Sleng prison, the person I'm calling Mr. Krohbuy sat down by me and started a conversation. I asked him what he thought of the Royal Palace and he started complaining about how the Cambodians had chosen the wrong religion. Why Hindiuism? he asked. "Look what it's done to India. And then they exchanged it for Buddhism. You would think," he went on, "that they would learn from their mistakes." He went on complaining about the entire country had nothing good in it and this stemmed from their mistaken to the failed religions of Hinduism and Buddhism. "Where has it got them?" he kept saying.

I have to admit, this caught me off guard despite being warned about his tendency to make offensive comments. I suggested that the last 2000 years of European history didn't suggestion their adoption of Christianity was that wise, but he dismissed that with a wave of his hand. The other gentleman sitting with us, who is in Mr. Krohbuy's group, suggested we end the conversation, so I quickly shifted the topic to the Royal Palace.

On the road to Cheung Ek, our guide told us of his family's plight during the Khmer Rouge era. One of his older sisters died from malnutrition, and two of his brothers were murdered or died in unknown circumstances. His entire family came within a day of execution when his father, the village healer, was arrested. The villager who arrested him hoped to get a promotion from this act, but his mother turned out to be a patient and told her son he had to choose between getting a promotion and his mother staying alive. That night he released our guide's father.

At Cheung Ek, and later at Tuol Sleng prison, our guide only accompanied us from the outside; he didn't enter the main part of the killing fields or the rooms of the prison. While he said this was because of the need to keep a respectful silence, I noticed that all the other guards went in and talked. I got the distinct impression that he couldn't face the images or the spaces.

Prisoners were brought to Cheung Ek in trucks at night, chained to the ground, and then executed, usually with axes or sticks to the back of the head. Over 17,000 people were murdered in this place and they are still finding pieces of bones and scraps of clothing. I could see the occasional rag that might have been someone's shirt. Several of the pits were still quite distinct, though thankfully no bones were protruding from the ground (which still happens after it rains).

In the center is a tall tower with a pagoda top. The sides of the tower are glass doors, and in the middle are shelves filled with skulls and bones, with clothing piled up on the bottom. These are the bones that have been unearthed at the site. The pagoda is a Buddhist shrine, so one must remove shoes and hat before approaching.

I had a conversation with our guide afterward about the site. I asked if the tall shrine was a kind of stupa (funerary monument that often contains the ashes of those who have died) and he said yes. I asked about how people felt about the bones of those murdered being on display. He said that every year Buddhist monks come here to pray for those murdered in this place, and that surviving family members also regularly come here to pray for their loved ones.

I asked him how he would feel if the bones of one of his friends or family were on display here and he said that he would feel fine, that Cambodians are not offended by this public display and feel that this is important to demonstrate the history of what happened here.

Our next stop was the Tuol Sleng prison. I assign a book about this prison to my students so I've read a fair amount about it. One of the things that struck me walking through it was how similar the architecture of prisons is. It's as if they all went to some infernal graduate school specializing in how to create soul-crushing cells.

At the end, I was able to buy two books, one containing the paintings done by Van Nath, one of the 7 survivors of the prison and whose work depicts the various ways prisoners were tortured. I particularly need this book for my Comparative Genocide class this spring.

On the way back, our guide told us about the efforts to bring the surviving Khmer Rouge leadership to trial, and the problems they've faced in doing it. One particular problem is the fact that many people active in the Khmer Rouge are still involved in Cambodian politics today, raising difficult questions about their responsibility.

Dinner tonight was so-so. I didn't care for the Cambodian salad; it just tasted off. The soup and main course were good, as they typically have been (I had the pan-fried fish with tamarind sauce), but the desserts, as usual were lousy. Dad again special ordered ice cream (chocolate), but this time they gave it to him. I had the pumpkin custard with sticky rice; the sticky rice were by far the best. The custard was grayish and blah and stuck inside a slice of cooked pumpkin.

Tomorrow we sail down the Mekong for the Cambodian/Vietnamese border, with the border crossing expected to take at least 2 hours. The ship is taking care of all of it, so we don't have to do anything. At the same time, though, there will not be any shore excursions tomorrow. Instead, they are offering a Vietnamese cooking class "for the ladies," and then an ice cream party in the afternoon, at which time they are going to try to lure people into publicly singing.

Silk Weaving Village - Updated

2012-01-03T19:25:00.001-08:00

[Wednesday, January 4, 10:30 am]

Dad and I both slept well. After I got out of the shower, dad asked if there was hot water and I said yes. (Yesterday, he had tried to shower, but couldn't get any hot water. I pointed out that he had it set to cold. It's not as strange as it might sound since the hot and cold sides aren't marked and you have to let the water run for 2 minutes before it gets warm).

There was some unpleasantness around the computer stations this morning. There are only four terminals and one doesn't work. Frau Fabissiner was up at 6 am this morning to go on the computer, but the lounge was dark. "Tex," who likes to start political discussions and cheers Fox News, came up and showed her how to turn everything on. She sat down at one terminal, he set up his skype to call home. She then complained that he was talking too loud and it was disturbing her; couldn't he please step around the side. "I can't get reception if I do that," he replied. He then turned somewhat passive aggressive and spoke in his normal tone of voice.

I came in just as they both done. She accused him of trying to push her off the computer and he called her a "geezer" and an "old shit." As I told dad, I don't have a dog in that fight.

One of the problems is that while there is wifi in the lounge, it only seems to work with laptops and Ipads, not with smart phones. Don't know why.

At breakfast we learned that a fair number of people on the ship are sick, some with colds or fever, others with nausea. I'm being extra careful to use the hand sanitizer and soap and water.

By the way, in terms of the break down of passengers, I would now guess that a third of the passengers are Jewish, a little less than half are Australian, and about 6% are Israeli, and 8% are gay or lesbian.

This morning we sailed up the Mekong from Phnom Penh about 20 kilometers to a weaving village of Chong Koh. We walked across the gangplank and were surrounded by small kids trying to talk us up for change or sales. We gave them small pieces of candy. Walking through the village was a blast. We saw hand-run looms, workshops, a mobile barber, and climbed up to sit in a house on stilts with a 90-year old woman. I sat down by her, made the namaste gesture, which she returned, and then took her picture. I showed her the photo and she grinned and grinned, and held my hand to get a better look. She had two tvs (one didn't work).

At one loom, I bargained for a gift. Gloria had one that I liked and they quoted her one for $5. I countered "how about two for $5?" We settled on two for $6, but Gloria wouldn't go for it. The girl then sold it to me for $3.

We also visited the monastery and school. I saw the kids doing their lessons and the teacher at the chalk board. There was also a small temple nearby with some new stupas, and one really old one made of bricks and decomposing.

This afternoon, we'll go to Phnom Penh. I'll update later if I can.

Update: 5:05 pm, Cambodia Time

I joined Richard and Shannon, and Steven and Terri for lunch. At first dad was going to skip lunch, but later joined us. He ordered a hamburger off the regular menu. They were planning to hit the Central Market before the 3:30 optional excursion and were happy to have dad and I along. We were joined by Judy, and both Judy and I needed to stop by the ATM.

Steve and Terri negotiated two round-trip tuk-tuk rides ($2 each way) while Judy and I found the ATM. Judy wasn't happy with the terms, so only I withdrew money. Dad decided to wait to see if he could find a Citibank.

Traffic in Phnom Penh isn't as hectic as in Hanoi, but has some similar traits. One must always cross the street by walking slowly and deliberately, while allowing the scooters, tuk-tuks, cars, and trucks to pass you.

The Central Market was a blast! We all headed off in our separate ways. Dad noticed almost immediately that all the shops were run by women. In fact, we later discovered, there was one set of shops run by men: the ones doing jewelry repair and other mechanical services.

The central hall was dominated by jewelry shops, and everything glittered and gleamed. Radiating outward were the wings, which varied from Chinese or Vietnamese restaurant decoration supply stores, to brassieres, to children's blouses, to men's suits. At one end, they had a floral shop.

I found some gifts I wanted and negotiated for a good price. Dad wanted to buy me a shirt, but at first I didn't see anything I wanted. We found some nice light-weight cotton shirts with some Cambodian patterns. I tried two on over my t-shirt to make sure they fit and then bought them at $9 a piece.

At the western end we finally found the food market, which is always my favorite part of any market. Lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, many we had seen growing in the country-side villages we visited. Only a small butcher section, but lots and lots of fish. Some of it was dried and smoked, but there were baskets and baskets of fresh prawns, crabs, lobsters (including some small green ones), clams, mussels, cockles, and live crab and eels.

On our way back dad found a gift for one of the poker managers in the casino he goes to, and then a pair of cargo shorts he really liked. They measured his waist and then sold it to him for only $5.

Dad, by the way, says he likes Cambodia more and more, the more time he spends here.

We ran into Terri and Steven, who are far better hagglers than I am. They were bargaining over t-shirts, while Shannon and Richard looked at more leather bags. Eventually we all headed back to the ship at 3pm.

After dropping off our stuff, we went back to the lounge for the brief walking tour of downtown Phnom Penh. The highlight was the Wat Phnom, the original shrine of the city. There we saw people selling small little birds that are released for good luck (they then fly back, like homing pigeons, to be sold again). We had the opportunity to visit another Buddhist service, but I was the only one in my group to avail myself of this.

By the way, the guide explained that the blessing we received yesterday was for: happiness, prosperity, health, good family life, and good friendships.

On the side, we saw a shrine to Madame Penh, the woman, who according to legend founded the shrine on this hill. The shrine is known as Penh's hill, and since he khmer word for hill is "phnom," the town she founded is known as Phnom Penh.

On the walk back to the ship, we saw groups of men playing a Cambodian form of chess. Apparently some bet on it. On the drives through the country side I noticed the most popular game appears to be volleyball.

We came back to the boat after an hour and I did some laundry. Tonight we have a performance of Khmer children and then tomorrow, it's off to the national museum, the royal pagoda, and the killing fields in the afternoon.

[Second update: 9:40 pm, Cambodia time]

After a very nice dinner (khmer beef salad, duck with orange pepper sauce, though a typically middling dessert), we were treated to a performance of traditional khmer dance by a group of children from a local orphanage. Their dancing was beautiful.

Floating Villages - Updated

2012-01-02T19:55:00.001-08:00

I will update this post later this afternoon if I have internet connection. I'll modify the title if I do.

We both slept quite well last night. No rocking of the boat at all. Apparently, this is the norm on river cruises. I woke up early to see the sunrise. I was up on deck around 6 am, watching the horizon turn purplish red, then orange, then yellow. Finally, the sun burst through the clouds. It was cool and breezy but the air warmed up fast once the sun came out.

I took my shower at "rush hour," so water pressure was a little light, but no problem getting warm water. The breakfast buffet was nice, though I just had toast and cereal, but also some lox. Dad had them make him an eggs and lox omelet.

This morning's excursion was to a floating village near Kampong Chhnang on the Sap River. Home to over 6,000 people and over a thousand year's old, the entire life of the village revolves around the water. We saw people bathing in the river, cleaning their infants in the river, fishing from the river, and using the outhouse over the river (that gentleman certainly wasn't "pee shy" as 26 people sailed by in the tender).

A few months ago, the water was 4 meters higher and you could see the dead lotus leaves hanging from the trees that only recently were under water. It reminded me of the Spanish moss hanging from the trees in Savanah. Several of the houses on stilts weren't high enough to keep them out of the recent flood waters, and you could the waters came up one meter over their floors.

Most of the villages make their living from the river, and their homes varied from simple shacks to elaborate homes with blue-painted paneling and satellite dishes. Most of the homes were filled with small children, who often waived to us. There were also small to mid-sized dogs.

Next to the floating village is a land-based town, much higher than the river. At the harbor, our nostrils were assaulted with the intense odor of dead, rotting, and decayed fish (as well as some fermented fish). Children ran in the muck, while people filleted and salted fish. We climbed a muddy path reinforced with bamboo rods to the street. The farther we got from the harbor, the weaker the smell became.

On the street we saw a blacksmith shop, where they were beating old car parts into knives and scythes. One guy was pressing canes to make cane juice. Other people were selling bitter nuts and bitter leaves, which are chewed along with shells to make a kind of cement (though it ruins your teeth). On several occasions, I walked up to people, made the namaste gesture and then pantomimed taking a picture with my camera. They always agreed, and then they smiled when I showed them the photo I took. I got a really nice shot of a Buddhist monk.

After 20 minutes, we went back to the tender and returned to the boat. Now they're giving us a briefing on Cambodia and this afternoon we have an ox-cart ride and then visit a large pagoda. If I'm able to update the blog this evening I will. Otherwise, we may not have reception until we get to Phnom Penh tomorrow afternoon.

First Update (6:00 pm, Cambodia time):

Lunch was pretty good. Dad and I both got the khmer fried shrimp, which were tasty, but a little over battered. The chocolate mousse for dessert, though, just tasted "off." Like the ice cream last night, it didn't taste "chocolate" enough.

The ox-cart ride was fabulous! It was kitschy and touristy and a blast. After we took the gangplank off the boat, the carts and oxen were all lined up. I got in first and dad followed. We sat on a fabric mat over a cushion of straw. The ride itself was only 15 minutes long, but it felt just right. We both really enjoyed it.

Afterwards, we got on the buses for a 30 minute drive to the monestary in Oudong. This was a large, beautiful complex. We got a bathroom break first, though, in what amounts to a uni-sex bathroom: women's stalls were on the left, men's urinals on the right. When we all regrouped, I looked around for dad and didn't see him. I searched all the bathrooms without any luck. I just hoped he would eventually show up.

We went up to the main temple, a large, tall, very ornate, gilt-encrusted structure, with an elaborate pointed roof composed of many stylized parasols. Inside, all the other groups from the cruise had arrived and were already shoe-less and hat-less and sitting on mats, waiting to receive the blessing from the two orange-robed monks. We quickly joined them and I spotted dad hovering on the margins.

The monks started chanting in rich, wavering, sing-song voices that were too varied to be monotone, but too similar to be a clear melody. After 10 minutes or so they blessed us by throwing jasmine buds at us. After they finished I had a chance to take some up-close photos, as well as more detailed shots of the temple's interior.

The most striking element was the statue of the Buddha, who was not only on a raised platform, but was also surrounded by an elaborate light display, including a hypnotic rotating halo behind his head, chains of what kind of looked like Christmas lights (if they had been in Christmas colors) and flashing neon-like pillars. Dad thought it reminded him of Vegas.

Mr. Krohbuy (see the earlier blogs) was heard to remark "where is the monkey house?" I guess he thought he was making a joking reference to monks.

From the temple, we went down to visit the shrine to the monk who had founded this monastery and who was killed by robbers four years ago. I chose not to go up to see his mummified corpse. After that we walked to a school, where we saw nuns studying. Many children attend monasteries for free education and many widows come her for a place to live and eat if they cannot be supported by their children. We also saw many large and elaborate stupas, which are a kind of funerary monument.

I have to say that everyone we met was exceedingly kind and generous, and not just in the monastery. All of us have remarking on how nice, kind, gentle, and friendly everyone we have met in the country has been. It really is quite extraordinary.

Afterwards, we returned to the boat and set sail down river towards Phnom Penh, where we will moor tonight. Tomorrow we visit a silk-weaving village in the morning and tour the capital in the afternoon.

On the River

2012-01-02T06:04:00.000-08:00

Last night we took a tuk-tuk from the hotel to Abacus Restaurant, a highly regarded French restaurant in Siem Reap. Because of heavy traffic on the main road, we took some side streets. It was a somewhat experience going over dirt alleys in the back of what looks like a small carriage. For a while, I worried we were being taken for a ride (in a bad way), but instead, we ended up at the restaurant. Because we didn't have a reservation, we were seated outside. Luckily, we both put on our bug spray, though they put a bug repellent candle under our table.

Dad and I ordered the same thing: entrecote bordelaise with sauteed spinach, mushrooms, and potatoes. The only difference: mine was medium rare, dad's was medium. The steak was quite good (better than the one they just served us on the boat), but I like to see what I'm eating. At one point I jumped when what looked like two leopards walked in behind where we were sitting. They were to very large, black dogs, who have the run of the place.

By the way, I asked our guide today why we don't see any cats. He said that cats are kept as pets in Cambodia, but they are considered a higher "caste" than dogs and are kept indoors.

We were pretty full so skipped dessert. There was one tuk-tuk driver waiting out front, so I opened negotiations. "How much?" "Where are you going?" "Sofitel Angkor." "Three dollars." Since it only cost us two dollars to get there, I responded with two. "But very long distance," he replied and dad said he was comfortable with the price. Still, it was a wild experience darting in and out of heavy traffic on dark streets.

One complaint I heard from several guests about the hotel in Siem Reap was that while everyone agreed it was very posh and nice (with a nice pool, too, which I enjoyed in the afternoon), their wifi service leaves a lot to be desired. You have to log in every time and get a new password every day. I can't imagine they will keep this system that long.

This morning we were joined by the other half of the tour. Two almost entirely Australian tour groups from APT, which book their river cruises through AMA Waterways. We learned a new Cambodian word on the bus today: "kroh-BUY" It means oxen, but when applied to a person, means someone who is bull headed and stubborn, who does what they want without concern for others. In order to distinguish him from Frau Fabissiner (who looked quite stylish this evening in her silks she bought in Siem Reap), I'm going to refer to the problematic person from Team Yellow as Mr. Krohbuy.

Apparently, he's been stiffing the guides all along the trip, refusing to tip either the driver or the guides in any place we've been. He tried to join our bus again today, but since the seats are based on the number of people in the group, we sent him back to Team Yellow (who were very disappointed, they told me later, to see him back). We had a 5.5 hour drive to the embarkation point for the boat, and he was very upset about it. I heard him telling his wife that he should have rented a motor boat and do it on their own.

On the way, we were introduced to our new land and boat guide, Mr. Ly. He described his upbringing. We actually drove through his birth village. When he was three, the Khmer Rouge came into power and his entire family was transferred from one village to another, as they moved whole populations around. As a small child, he was somewhat better off than adults, and could get his food directly from the communal pot. He was also lucky in that he only lost two family members. The Yellow group guide lost his entire family.

I had a chance to speak to him one on one and he told me that he after his mother died, he lived as a buddhist monk for two days as his way of mourning for her. He's married and has two children and two pet dogs. Because he's in tourism, he gave them American names: Tony and Sonny.

Traveling through the countryside, we went through numerous small villages, with wooden huts on stilts, some with hammocks hanging underneath, most with small children running about barefoot, playing in muddy ponds. Large ceramic pots lined the sides of the houses, which are used to collect rain water. Often the roads were lined with small carts selling rice in bamboo containers, dried fish, fruit, or gasoline (in one liter soda bottles). Many houses have large piles of straw set up on raised platforms to keep them dry when it floods.

Every hour or so we went through a market town, where the houses were often more built up, with fancy roofs and eaves, and sometimes out of masonry. The space between the road and the shops was dirt, and filled with mopeds and carts, kicking up dust. We often passed mopeds with two or more children hanging on, and on more than one occasion, a cart with 20 or more kids.

In between, we passed rice paddies, some with fresh, bright green rice newly planted, but most with dried straw waiting to be collected. We passed many thin, scrawny cows and some water buffalo. At this time of year, the cattle are set free to graze, but later are rounded up to work the fields.

The whole sight makes one very humble, aware of how blessed and privileged we are to live in such a wealthy country with as many benefits as we have. I don't remember if I've written this earlier, but on several occasions on this trip, I've really felt as if I'm on the other side of the world: in Ha Long Bay, at the Angkor Temples, and on the road to the boat, and now on the river.

We stopped twice on the road: the first was to visit a "happy room," in Kompong Thom. Of course, the line for the women's room was more than twice as long for the men's. I should add that there was no toilet paper in the stalls, only a hand-held bidet (but nothing to dry oneself with afterwards). There were sinks, but just one towel on the wall. I chose to air dry them by waving my hands back and forth. I knew we had three hours to go, so I bought a Nestle ice cream bar. The problem was I couldn't tell what the flavors were (one was lavender, the other white). I was pretty sure one was coconut, but I couldn't figure out the second. I showed the wrapper to the guide, but he said it was in Thai.

The second stop was to see a really wild food market in Skoun. The guide told us about how eating crickets and tarantulas were delicacies, but it was another thing to see people selling and eating them. I took a ton of pictures. I figure this was their way of making us not too hungry since it was after noon, and lunch was still over an hour and a half away.

The last 40 kilometers were off the main highway on a side road that was only partially paved (the left half). That meant all the traffic on our side drove on the dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust that lasted 45 minutes. The dust cloud was like a fog, and every now and then a truck or moped would suddenly loom out of the haze and be upon us. The road was also heavily pot holed, and I think I heard at least one scream after a particularly violent lurch and dip.

We finally reached the ship around 1:45 pm. Because AMA Lotus has a draught of over 2 meters, it can't navigate the shallowest part of the Tonle Sap lake. That's why we had to take this bus transfer. In fact, this ship can only navigate the entire distance for maybe two months a year. I'm not sure if the other vessel, La Margarite, which is shallower is a better option.

From the bus, we walked across a field of reeds until we reached the gangplank for the boat. The cabin is very nice and larger than the one dad and I had in the Galapagos. There is a small veranda with a chair bolted to the deck. I washed some shirts and put out one of my pants for laundry (I need my blue jeans for our visit to the pagoda tomorrow afternoon, after which, I will have them laundered as well).

Lunch was good, with a mix of salads, including a rather amusingly labeled "crap cake" (the menu described it as "crab cake"). After our first briefing, we had the safety drill. Dad's life vest was very tight on him, while mine fit fine. I told him that was a sign he needed to lose weight. He suggested we change vests.

Up on deck, I found that there are three Israeli couples in the Yellow group, so we had a very nice conversation in Hebrew. Dad then went down to take a nap, and I explored the ship. The library is small, but they have dozens of dvds to watch on the monitors in our room. There's also a jacuzzi on the sun deck. I got a beer and watched the sunset, while chatting with some of the guests.

At dinner we sat with Greg and Irene (from Australia) and Kevin and Ann Louise Fischer (from South Africa). It turns out that the South Africans know my father's urologist! Dad can't wait to tell him when we get back.

The dinner was ok. I liked the starter of pineapple and prawn salad, followed by cream of cauliflower, but the Aussie beef loin with pepper sauce was rather tough (though Kathy pointed out, it would have been better if we had been given something other than butter knives to cut it with). Dad enjoyed his consumme soup, and really liked the flavorings in the rice. Since dad can't drink caffeine, they made him a special ginger tea with slices of fresh ginger. He liked it.

Tomorrow morning we have an excursion to see a floating village of 6,000 people, but if we're up at 6 am, we can see the water taxi. Since I've been waking up early as it is, I may try to see it tomorrow.

Finally, internet will be very spotty until we reach Phnom Penh. I've been trying for several hours, but this is the first I was able to get through.

Angkor Wat

2011-12-31T23:43:00.000-08:00

I slept better last night, with my sore neck bothering me the least in over two weeks. After a filling breakfast, we got on the "green" bus, but found that the couple that few in the "yellow" team liked have switched to us.

The weather was much hotter today and more humid (I'd say Washington, D.C. mid-July). We took the now-familiar road to Angkor Wat, but got off in front of the entrance to the temple. We had to wear long pants as a sign of respect, but that also made things a little stickier.

The temple is surrounded by a wide (200 yards) and long moat, which was originally filled with crocodiles. Spanning the moat is a stone causeway, flanked by nagas and lions. The naga is a sacred symbol. It consists of a cobra with multiple heads (always an odd number for good luck) and it wards off evil spirits. At Angkor Thom, the gods and demons were holding the naga, but here it was on its own.

Around the first gate were numerous intricate carvings of apsaras (dancing divine figures) and nagas. Inside was a wide expanse with only a few structures, ending in some ornamental pools. These structures were libraries holding records on stone tablets and banana leaves. I got a nice shot of the temple complex reflected in the lily pond.

I should add, in light of yesterday's comments on the sparseness of the trees, that the complex is surrounded by a hedge of jungle. Elsewhere in the region, though, the jungle has been cut down for rice paddies.

From there we ascended to the first level of the temple. Here we so long narrow corridors with point stone ceilings (the original wood ceiling deteriorated centuries ago). The walls were adorned with bas reliefs depicting scenes from the Bhagavad Gita, such as Rama battling demons, along with monkey warriors.

The next stop was the second level. Here there were elaborate stone basins to collect and channel rain water and prevent flooding. There were also several elaborate carvings of aspsaras.

We were supposed to climb to the third, final, and holiest level, but the parks authority put up signs saying it was closed for cleaning (if they don't remove the various seedlings growing on the temple, they will grow as large as the ones in Ta Prohm that destroyed parts of the temple.

We went back down to the first level, and he showed us another gallery where the guide taught us how to distinguish "star commanders." What he meant was how to tell a 1 start general from a five-star general from the king: count the number of parasols in the drawing. The larger the number, the higher the rank.

From there, the group turned back toward the main gate. I had seen a buddhist shrine inside the first level and asked the guide if I could go off on my own. Sure, he said, but be back at the meeting point at the right time.

I hurried back into the temple and found the shrine. I saw several people paying to have their fortune read. Here's how it went: on one side of the shrine sat an old male fortune teller. The person desiring to have her fortune read sat on the mat and put money in his box. He the handed her a stack of long, thing, narrow wooden cards, all bound together. She took the cards and held them on her head and marked one, which he then read to her. I watched several of these, though the last one I heard apparently wasn't a good fortune, and there were audible reactions. After watching people burn incense and make offerings, I hurried back. I hoped to see one of the saffron-robed monks I saw earlier but none were around.

I made it back to the meeting point in time, but our group had been moved down a block so I scurried after them, catching up just before they reached and boarded the bus. We got back to the bus around 11:20 and it was a short trip back to the hotel. They announced that anyone wishing for a free bus ride to the old market in Siem Reap should be back on the bus in 15 minutes. We hurried back to the room, dropped off our stuff, and I changed into shorts. I also grabbed my guide book.

We went to the Khmer Kitchen restaurant and ordered almost the same thing: khmer curry (me we chicken, dad with mixed vegetables), and Cambodian beer. The meal was very good and the total bill came to $10.

After that we walked across the street to the old market. It is reminiscent of mahaneh yehuda, though more touristy. In the center is the food market, where we found bowls of shellfish, squid, octopus, etc., could wash fish being butchered, and saw plucked chickens out for sale. There were also many food vendors catering to exclusively Cambodian clientele. While there were a few stores for locals, including a beauty salon in one small shop, where one woman was getting her hair blown out, most everything else was directed to tourists.

I was looking at some very intricate and elaborate linens. I don't remember how big my table is (and I certainly don't know its measurements in centimeters), but they had bed coverings for king sized beds. I looked at several and asked how much a gold one with intricate patterns was. "$25." "Oh, I don't know if I can do that," I replied, "how about $15?" "For $15 you can buy table runner," she answered. "Oh, you mean $15 final price for bedcover? No, then I lose all my profit." She fiddled with her calculator. "How about $22," she said, and showed me 22 on the calculator. "How about $20," I replied and she agreed. I realized after I left, that I had never asked her what the cover was made out of. We circled back later and she said silk and cotton, not 100% silk.

We explored the length of the market and ended as far south as the Terrasse des Elephants hotel and cafe, a colonial yellow covered building that looks as if it came right out of French Indochine. We walked back to the Blue Pumpkin, where I got a mango sorbet and then got a tuk-tuk cab back to the hotel. Dad is now napping; I'm considering going swimming (if there's a pool).

Tomorrow morning we leave at 8 am for the boat. As in Hanoi, we need to have our check-in luggage outside our room at 7 for pick up. Because the water level is low, we will need to be bused 4.5 hours until we can embark. Our welcome lunch is scheduled for 1:30 pm. We were also told we will have two stops en route in order to visit the "happy room."

Apparently wifi can be someone spotty on the ship, so I'm not sure how often I will be able to make postings on the cruise.

New Year's Eve

2011-12-31T06:59:00.000-08:00

The cruise line sponsored a special New Year's Eve dinner for us in the hotel. I decided to sit with some of the "yellow" team people to get to know them better. To my right were Richard and Shannon, across from them were Terri and Richard, and across from dad and I were Bud and, and, I don't remember. Unfortunately, Amiko was sitting on dad's left. Her travel partner, Judy, is very engaging, and dad and I had a very nice conversation with her at breakfast in Hanoi, but Amiko tends to be very quiet, and dad and she said nothing to each other.

We heard a little more gossip about the "problematic" person on the "yellow" team; apparently, he has been making offensive remarks to various Vietnamese and Cambodian people randomly through out the trip. Terri asked if we were all getting along, and I said that I thought so, and Richard then offered to trade three "greens" for two "yellows," a reference to this person. We had a very pleasant conversation about traveling, and coping with rats and snakes in the plumbing (back home, not here). We also learned that Bud bought a bottle of snake wine in Hanoi. This wine has a real, dead cobra inside. Apparently, this is believed to improve one's virility, which has led to them all calling him "Bud the stud."

The conversation was so nice that I glanced at my watch as was shocked to see it was after 9:30. Dad had just asked what time it was and I told him it was the latest he had stayed up on the trip so far. He left for bed around a quarter of 10.

I should add the meal they prepared for us was excellent. Dad loved his cream of pumpkin soup, and I really enjoyed the scallops in broth with tomatoes and asparagus. We both got the skewers of beef in khmer sauce, which was cooked just right to what the French call au point. The other option was the sea bream cooked in a banana leaf, and I saw several people leaving that over almost untouched.

I suppose I should give a better description of the hotel. The hotel appears to be laid out as a triangle, with a reception hall in the front, and two residential wings. There are restaurants on either side of the reception hall: a long one with a veranda (where they served breakfast and where we also had lunch), and a smaller room jutting out on the other side (where we had dinner). There's also a small patio between them where we had the buffet last night, and tonight we saw frogs hopping about.

Each of the residential wings is about three stories tall, with a large, dark wooden railed stair case in the lobby of each, along with a small elevator. The rooms all have verandas. As you enter our room, there's a wooden bench for a suitcase, followed by a wooden wardrobe, then a hospitality bar. Next to that is the credenza with the television, followed by another wooden suitcase bench, and the desk. On the right wall is the bathroom followed by two full-sized beds with a small night stand between them (holding two pieces of what was originally six french macarons in a small glass - I ate the others). There's also a chair and lamp.

Between the two residential wings and the reception is a large ornamental lagoon containing lotus flowers and a canoe with Santa. There is a wide, tiled, covered walkway, decorated with Cambodian designs, that runs from the reception to the middle of the pond, and then turns right leading to our building. There's also a large gazebo for sitting that branches off from the walkway in the middle of the pond. If you want to see pictures, click this link: http://www.sofitel.com/gb/hotel-3123-sofitel-angkor-phokeethra-golf-and-spa-resort/index.shtml

Elephants, Monkeys, and Lost Cities

2011-12-30T22:58:00.000-08:00

or walking in the footsteps of Angelina Jolie.

First, about the dogs. Yes, some people in Vietnam do eat dogs (they are considered to be very nutritious). From the road, once or twice I saw dogs in cages, looking as if they were intended for market. We also saw a lot more loose dogs in the countryside, though no where near the numbers in other places I've been.

When I got back to the room last night, dad had already gone to bed. I kept hitting the light switches, but nothing would come on. It turns out that dad had turned off the master switch by the bed. I woke him in order to fix the light situation, and then left the bathroom light on (with the doors closed) so I could find it in the middle of the night.

We slept well and this morning we discovered our room has a beautiful veranda overlooking the ponds and gardens. One other guest thought he saw monkeys this morning, but we didn't.

The breakfast was very nice (though the cereal bowls were extraordinarily small) and the room was very fancy. I asked dad if he preferred this buffet to the one in Tel-Aviv, and he instantly said "Tel-Aviv," though he couldn't explain why.

We had heard yesterday about a difficult person in the "yellow" group, so I finally found out who: it was the guy that dad had a long and energetic conversation with yesterday in the airport! They actually hit it off quite well as they debated various physics and math questions.

We gathered round for the morning briefing, and I felt something hitting my leg. It was Frau Fabissiner's purse. I chose not to move, so she walked around the group to find a place on the other side. Ah, the small victories of pettiness.

This morning we headed off to Angkor Thom. The road is quite dusty and lined with small shops and a lot of almost-finished construction. There were a fair number of tuk-tuks (motorcycle-driven carts), but nothing like the number of mopeds and scooters we saw in Vietnam. By the entrance to the temple complex, traffic jammed, but we still had to wait, get out, get our picture take (for our pass), and then get back on the bus. Frau Fabissiner's pass wouldn't fit in her badge holder, so we had a little drama, but they got her a new one.

Let me add here a description of this area of Cambodia. I had assumed that this would be mostly jungle. Instead, it's flat, hot, somewhat humid (like D.C. towards the end of June), and dusty. Most of the land is made up of rice paddies, with the occasional palm tree or isolated tree. It's quite different than I expected.

Today, I visited my second lost city (after Petra), and it was a fabulous and fantastic experience. Later, as we went through Ta Prohm, the guide kept referring to it as the Lara Croft: Tomb Raider temple (where the filmed part of the movie). I want to know why all these famous lost cities are now known by the crappy movies filmed there (Petra was the site of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade).

Waiting to enter Angkor Thom, we saw people riding elephants ($15 but I doubt we'll have time). Along the causeway, there were 54 figures: on one side gods, on the other side demons. 54 was a lucky number, since it adds up to 9, another lucky number. Bob then says to me "gematria" referring to Jewish games with numbers. The walls of the temples are decorated in a breathtakingly wide array of ornamentation, including depictions of wars (with elephants), apsaras (divine temptresses), lotus flowers, smiling buddhas, intricate patterns, etc.

Angkor Thom was overrun by tour groups, so it was somewhat chaotic moving along, trying to get a good shot of the various buddhas and carvings. The stairway to the second level was a modern wooden one, but it was quite steep. The staircase down was just a steep, but lacked a hand rail.

At one point, we walked through a tower and could make out a high-pitched squeaking sound: bats. The floor was dotted with dark guano and one (seemingly) dead bat. At one point, the guide pointed to one particularly well-preserved buddha, which is on the national currency. It was surrounded by what looked like a Japanese tour group posing for pictures. I just pushed my way through and got a great shot. See, living in Israel has provided me with skills that will last a life time.

From Angkor Thom we went on to Ta Prohm (aka "the Tomb Raider temple"). On the way, we had a bit of excitement when we got to see several small monkeys running on the ground. The guide strongly cautioned us against trying to approach or feed them, as they can jump on you and injure you.

The temple of Ta Prohm is some 900 years old, but it was abandoned in the 15th century. Since then, trees have grown out of and on top of the structures, their roots tearing apart the buildings. This was another one where we were constantly jostled by tour groups. At one point, the guide said, go look in the corner where you can see a dinosaur, and sure enough, one of the small wall carvings looked like a stegasaurus. In other case he would say, go stand by the room and look up. There was a great shot of a very tall tree rising out of a building. In some buildings, there were people burning incense before shrines to buddha, so the air was strongly perfumed with sandalwood. The walls were mostly red, and sometimes green, not from paint but from lichen. Eventually, we made our way back to the buses and then back to the hotel.

We had a 2-hour break for lunch, so dad and I sat on the restaurant veranda by the lagoon. He ordered the salad caprese and the "healthy pizza" (zucchini and carrot), while I had the tom yom goong soup (hot and sour with 6 giant prawns) and the roast duck curry with tomatoes and pineapple. The soup was fantastic! If I had known it was that big, I wouldn't have ordered the curry main course. Dad was much less pleased with his meal. The salad caprese consisted of a large mass of lettuce (which he won't eat) some sad, greenish tomatoes, and one strip of mozzarella. He sent it back and ordered the tom yom goong soup instead. It took a half an hour for his soup to arrive.

This afternoon we went to Banteay Srei, also known as "the citadel of women." My colleague who came here last year thought this was the best of all the temples in the Angkor complex. A Hindu-inspired temple, the walls and structures have delicate and intricate sandstone carvings that cover almost every inch of the structures. The figures of the Hamuran (sp?), the monkey gods who battled Rama and Vishnu (I think) were great, but turned out to be copies. The originals are in the Phnom Penh Museum.

I could have spent hours there (in fact, I could have spent hours in any of these locations), but we were only there for an hour. That didn't stop Frau Fabissiner from complaining "they said we would only be here for 30-45 minutes, but look, it's been an hour!"

From Banteay Srei we drove to a school supported by AMAWaterways (the cruise company). This gave us a great opportunity to see the rural countryside. Most of Cambodia is rural, and 60% is under the age of 25. Unlike Vietnam (or at least the parts of Vietnam that we saw), Cambodia is quite poor and undeveloped. The cows and water buffalo in the fields were very skinny (as were many of the dogs we saw). We saw many traditional Khmer houses, which are built on stilts. This is to 1) protect the children from cobras and tigers (not so many tigers these days); 2) protect everyone from mosquitoes; 3) provide a safe shelter under the house for coal and cooking during monsoon season; and provide a safe shelter for live stock during monsoon season.

The school visit was better than I expected. The kids liked posing for pictures and broke into big grins or giggles when I showed them the pictures I took of them. There was a really cute puppy who greeted us. Dad commented on how soft his fur was, so I reminded him that the puppy probably didn't have any shots, so he should use the hand sanitizer on the bus. We dropped off our school supplies and headed back to Siem Reap.

Tomorrow morning we visit Angkor Wat (we have to wear long pants as a sign of respect for the temple) and we have the afternoon free. I'm hoping to visit the market in Siem Reap. On Monday, we embark on the river cruise. Tonight we have a New Year's Eve dinner indoors in one of the hotel's restaurants.

Ha Long Bay

2011-12-30T05:26:00.000-08:00

Before I get to our fabulous day and night in Ha Long Bay, first some additional details concerning the water puppet show in Hanoi.

We went up two flights of stairs to the auditorium. There was a large rectangular pond where a stage would normally be, with a small platform stage right and a wall with a shrine on top of it, stage middle in the back. There was a distinct mildew odor in the air.

The show began with performers in the small platform, playing traditional Vietnamese instruments, accompanied by two singers. After an instrumental number and some singing, the puppetry began. The "wall" partially opened on the sides to allow the puppets to come out. These were various figures who seemed to float on the water and were controlled by means of a long underwater wooden pole. This pole allowed the puppeteers to move the puppets, but also had enough complexity to allow them to move their hands. In one case, a puppet "swam," both freestyle and back stroke.

Given that I was dozing off during the performance, it's hard to give a complete description of each element, but there were several elaborate numbers involving fish, snakes, fishermen, and the finale including the tale of how the carp became a dragon.

Thursday morning we had the long drive to Ha Long Bay. Outside Hanoi, we drove past long stretches of rice paddies. In the north, they plant rice after the lunar new year when the spring rains come (in about a month). Now, they are turning the soil, and burning the old rice stalks to fertilize the grounds. We saw water buffalo being used with plows, as well as peasants in conical hats burning straw.

In some towns, the streets were black from coal dust, used in the thermal power plants. As in Hanoi, most houses were unique; each one was decorated differently, and even when there was space, they were thin, tall, and long. Dad noted that they are only painted on the front and wondered why. I suggested because they often had neighboring houses built right next to them, so why paint what no one will see?

We learned that Vietnamese do keep dogs for pets (we could see several from the bus), but that in Hanoi, dog owners keep them locked up to avoid theft. We also learned that Hanoi was badly damaged by U.S. bombardment during the war.

After two hours, we stopped at a tourist trap where we had the opportunity to buy various items. I bought some bamboo place mats to supplement the ones I already own, but then learned about how much the material was marked up. So be it. I looked around, trying to find ideas for possible gifts to buy when I'm in Saigon. There were two cafes: one for the tourists and one for the Vietnamese guides. The latter was very smoky. After a jasmine tea, we got back on the bus for another hour and a half to reach Ha Long Bay.

When we got on the bus in Hanoi, dad and I got the first seat in the front, which gave us a great view of the chaotic traffic and the vista ahead of us. This was a mixed blessing. The metal pole made sitting a little uncomfortable; but on the bright side, it made Frau Fabissiner (as I've called her) a little more sour. When we got on in Hanoi, I heard her screaming at the driver "no! no! no!" when he tried to put her carry on bag under the bus. She always seems to have a rather curdled expression.

The morning was overcast and hazy, but the sun began to appear when we reached the bay. We took the tender to the junk and it (the junk) was gorgeous. Dark wood shuttered windows, with dark wood trim. Our room was on the lowest level and dad though the bathroom, with its marble walls and walk-in shower, was nicer than the one we had at the Sofitel in Hanoi. The beds were very comfortable, though a little high for dad's taste.

We met in the galley for lunch and the guide told us that this would be our table for our time on the junk. That meant we ended up sitting at a mostly Jewish table. Needless to say, there was much confusion over all the special orders: gluten free, shellfish free, meat and pork free, etc. As it happens, the meal was so-so. Dad thought it was the weakest part of the trip in Vietnam.

After lunch we sailed through Ha Long Bay, which has hundreds of craggy limestone outcroppings, rising out of the hazy, green sea. The air was definitely a surprise: clear, clean, and fresh, but not salty. Perhaps it was only in comparison to the diesel fumes of Hanoi, but it was delightful. I took dozens of photos of each particular outcropping as it came into view.

Eventually we reached the harbor for the largest cave in the bay. After a stern warning about the large number of steps we would be climbing, the heartiest (and heart healthy) travelers got in the tender to shore. It was a mere 138 steps to the entrance to the cave, but it also gave us a beautiful view of the harbor full of junks and small ships. The cave complex is quite large and is brightly and fancifully lit inside. There are all sorts of shapes formed by rain water eroding the limestone. Dad kept up well, though at times on the steepest climbs we needed to stop for a rest. I still think, though, that the view from the trail was nicer than the views in the cave.

We headed back to the junk and then in late evening, we visited one of the floating fishing villages in the bay. Originally, we were scheduled only to do the floating village on one day, and the cave the next, but they needed to shift plans when Vietnam Air moved up the time of our departure to Cambodia.

From the tender, we boarded a small skiff, holding four people and a rower. She then proceeded to row us around the village (which was laid out like a giant "U" in the shelter of a large bay. We saw various fishing boats and clam harvesting platforms. I noticed that in many of the houses, I could see a large mirror opposite the front door. This was for fung shui. We also saw some dogs, including one running across the bamboo poles of a clam platform as if it were flat wood. We saw many young children and a school before we headed back to the tender and the junk.

Back on board we had a brief rest before dinner. Some people went to see the fruit carving lesson, but I stayed up on the upper deck chatting. Dinner was buffet and so-so. After dinner I tried to stay up, but ended up going to bed a little before 9 pm.

In our bathroom, I noticed something plugged into the wall socket. I thought it was a nightlight, but when I pushed the light button it started flashing various odd colors. It turned out to be some kind of Glade plug in freshner. When I went to the bathroom at 4 am, I was trying to discretely turn on the light, but accidentally hit plug in button, but instead of the lights flashing, I hit the music button and it started to play some ring tone. I frantically hit it to turn it off before it woke up dad.

I was up around 6 am, and went up on deck to watch the mountains rising from the morning sea. Around 7 am, they had a tai chi lesson, so I decided to try it. I'm not the most coordinated, so this was rather a challenge. After about 15 minutes I decided I had had enough, so when the instructor had his back turned, I slipped away. 1 minute later he ended the lesson, so I had quit for nothing.

Breakfast was again so-so, with the pastries tasting as if they had been frozen and defrosted. The best food was the pho, which was hot, fresh and tasty. After that we packed up to go to the airport.

After two hours on the road, we stopped for lunch at a very fashionable golf course. Dad and I had the pho again. Then we continued to the airport. There, our guide instructed us to make sure that customs did not stamp our visa "used" as this would invalidate our return visa for a week or so from now. Dad and I made sure to get behind Frau Fabissiner as she was sure to raise a ruckus if they made a mistake. Thankfully, there were no problems.

Our flight to Cambodia ended up being delayed for an hour, which gave us more than enough time to chat with the passengers on the "yellow" team. We were all divided into two teams: green and yellow. Each team gets a different bus and guide, and we were on different junks last night. We began to hear from some of the "yellow" team that there was a "problem" passenger in their group that we needed to take care of. We're not sure yet who the passenger is, but I suspect that it's the guy from Texas who kept trying to start political debates with dad and me.

It was rather warm and humid when we got to Cambodia. No problems with customs and AMA handled all the paperwork for our visas (though we haven't gotten our passports back yet). Because of the delay, we had to rush to our rooms and then back to the buffet dinner. The rooms are gorgeous, with a tub and a shower, two large beds, a desk, and other amenities. To get to them, we went along a lit walkway over water (it's rather dark, so I won't be sure until morning). It's very beautiful.

The dinner was buffet, and I particularly liked the chicken curry, skewered beef in khmer sauce, and cashew chicken (the last being quite spicy). While we ate, some Cambodian dancers performed elaborate and intricate dances.

Tomorrow morning, we leave for the temples at 8:30 am, so that means a 7 am wake up. I'm going back to the room in a little bit to unpack. I'm going to try to stay up until 10, in order to get my body back on a more normal schedule.

Bumper-Level View of Hanoi Traffic

2011-12-28T05:14:00.000-08:00

The highlight of Wednesday afternoon was a rickshaw ride through the heart of Hanoi. These are also called "cyclos" or pedicabs, and seat one person. I only had to close my eyes twice as we went through particularly busy intersections. The ride was a blast, and we not only got to see Hanoi traffic up close and personal, but we also could see whole aspects of contemporary Vietnamese life.

One of the things that most stands out is how young the society is. I don't know the average age, but it is far younger than in the U.S. You really can see how people are hustling to make a better life for themselves. There are also three classes (in this communist society). There are those who dress very stylishly, in suits, ties, dresses, or other very fashionable outfits. Then you have the working class, who sit on small stools or squat on the pavement. Sometimes, you see groups of workers eating meals together. The third group are more "peasant-like" than the workers, and wear the conical hat one associates with peasants. Mostly women, you see them carrying two baskets suspended on a pole, draped over their shoulders.

After 45 minutes, we reached our final destination (dad said he thought he'd seen all two million scooters in Hanoi), and we began our walking tour of the old quarter. I love markets, and this was particularly colorful. I saw my first dog and cat of the trip (the guide pointed the dog out to me since I had asked him about why there weren't any dogs this morning; I still have to wait until tomorrow's bus ride to find out why). We saw people lathing wood, doing metal work, cooking food, and butchering, all on the sidewalk.

The hard part was finding a way for 24 people to cross the street safely and all stay together. The guides had us all line up in rows and then cross slowly in a group (the guide stood on the side closest the oncoming traffic). We did this three times, with no injuries.

We ended back where the cyclos had dropped us off. The guide told us we had 10 minutes if we would like to go into the building and visit "the happy room." Ah, I said to the confused woman next to me, "it's a bathroom break." After 10 minutes we went in to watch the water puppet show.

I think dad liked this best of all. I, however, was starting to fade. It was 5 pm here, or 2 am in Los Angeles, and even with 11 hours sleep, my body is still on California time. The puppets were skillfully managed, and the music was enjoyable, but I nodded off (or would have had there been any space). Afterwards, we came back and gave the guide our passports, extra photos, and cash for our Cambodian visas.

When we got on the bus to go back to the hotel, I took the first two seats available. I noticed that someone had left something in the back of the seats when we had used these buses in the morning. A few minutes later, a woman angrily accused me of sitting in their seats. I reminded her that the main guide had said we would be rotating our seats over the trip. She huffily responded that she didn't know that meant we would be doing that today. Personally, I was rather surprised she had left anything on the bus earlier as there was no guarantee we would be having the same bus on other days (there are two buses being used). She is a rather fabissineh woman from Canada. On the day we arrived, dad and I heard saying she had no intention of providing a credit card impression to the hotel. Dad thought that she hadn't traveled very much.

I had made reservations for dinner at the Hanoi Press Club and it certainly lived up to its reputation. Across the street from the hotel, the restaurant has dark wood floor, beautiful, dark wooden shutters and pillars, and an overall feeling of French colonial rule. I start off with the cream of leek soup, which was hot and tasty. Dad and I both had salmon: his was steamed, while mine was grilled. We both loved our meal, and were too stuffed for dessert.

Now I'm going to head up to finish packing up my luggage. I'll post this tomorrow morning before we head to Ha Long Bay, as I don't think we'll have internet access on the junk, and any further update will have to wait until we're in Cambodia.

I went to sleep around 9 pm last night, and woke up at 6:20 this morning. Slept rather fitfully as the thermostat in the room was set at 25 (I found it this morning). Far warmer than I'm comfortable with. We're all packed and we're leaving in a few minutes for Ha Long Bay. I probably won't have another update for 36 hours.

Over His Dead Body

2011-12-27T22:45:00.000-08:00

By the time I finished writing yesterday's entry, I was wiped out. I went back up to the room and went right to sleep. I napped for about an hour, then woke up. I was still having trouble concentrating, so I napped again, and dad woke me up 15 minutes before our dinner reservation.

We had dinner in the hotel's french restaurant, one of the most famous and elegant in Hanoi. Both of us felt slightly under dressed. Dad had a Vietnamese beer, which he thoroughly enjoyed, but I thought it safe to stay away from alcohol given how tired I still was. I had a club soda, which came with ice cubes. I decided not to panic over the ice, and this morning I found that the ice in the hotel restaurants is made with bottled water, not tap, so I had nothing to worry about.

Dad ordered french onion soup and the grilled salmon (all of which he thought was wonderful), while I had the fig and duck pate with grilled leeks, and then the sea bass stewed in red wine and winter vegetables. I had thought about getting the soup, but I had had a big bowl for lunch. My fish was delicious and the pate was great.

The only off putting thing was they offered us an appetizer of beef tartar, and I won't eat raw meat. I debating telling my father, but decided I ought to, and he didn't want to eat it either, so we left it untouched.

After dinner, dad and I took a walk around the block the hotel is on. They have two classic autos (and 1953 and 1956 Citroen) in which you can reserve to be driven around the city. The streets were lit and still full of mopeds. We got back to the lobby, but it was too early to go to bed. We sat in the lobby for awhile and read, but dad went up to bed around 8:30. I tried to hold out to 9 pm, but ended following him up 20 minutes later.

We had arranged a wake up call for 7 am, but I ended getting up around 6:40. Still, that's 9 and a half hours sleep (11, if you include the earlier naps). We met with our fellow cruise mates at breakfast, as I struggled repeatedly to get names right. I really want to be better at this time.

The breakfast buffet provided by the cruise was a mix of traditional and American breakfasts. On the one hand they had congee, sticky rice, and steamed veggies (I had the latter two); on the other they had a omelet station, cereal, and milk. There was also some fresh fruit, though far less than one might find, for example, at an Israeli buffet breakfast.

As we waited for our first morning briefing, one gentleman, from Kenya originally, but now living in Texas, tried to start a political discussion by making some rather strident remarks about how giving hand outs to Indians after putting them on reservations only led to alcoholism, and why people should be encouraged to work or starve. Neither dad nor I rose to the bait. When the director talked about news on TV, such as CNN or BBC, I heard him mutter "and Fox!"

Many of the people we've met so far have been very nice. There's Karen and Janice, a very nice couple from Rhode Island, and Gloria and Tom, a retired couple from Palm Desert. I was surprised to see one man with a kippah at breakfast this morning. He and his wife split their time between Tsfat and Virginia City. I'm not sure how he'll deal with the food issues, but I heard him order the pho soup without meat for lunch today, so I guess he's going vegetarian.

We loaded up on buses this morning to visit some of the more prominent historical sites. First on the list was the tomb of Ho Chi Minh. A few people, dad included, wanted to remain on the bus, but it turns out this wasn't possible. You can really see how strong the Soviet influence has been on the aesthetics of the Vietnamese communist party. The uniforms and various public symbols are all redolent of Soviet iconography. Even the tomb itself, with Ho Chi Minh displayed in a glass box coffin (he looks very waxy), seems modeled on Lenin's tomb in Moscow.

Afterwards, we saw the old French governor's mansion and the small gardener's house nearby the Ho Chi Minh used. The buildings were interesting and they gave one a small feel for French Indochina. Our final stop this morning was the Temple of Literature. This Confucian Temple was dedicated 1000 years ago. There are a serious of courtyards, several decorated with dragons. One of the courtyards is filled with stone stelae, honoring scholars who passed the examination (the Chinese examination system was used to staff the imperial bureaucracy). Think of them as successful Ph.D. candidates. The final courtyard contains a temple with incense and statues, and places to pray. When I got on the bus, I noted the man with the kippah had not gone in, so I mentioned that it was just a little bit of avodah zorah (idol worship).

On the way back to the hotel, they distributed green silk ribbons (we're in the green group). We need to tie this to our big suitcase, since when we check out tomorrow, this will go directly to the airport and we won't get it back until we're in Siem Reap, Cambodia. We need to take an overnight bag for the junk in Ha Long Bay.

Two things about Hanoi that really stood out to dad and I:
1) Dad repeatedly points out the masses of electrical wires the flow across and down the street in a crazy, mixed up fashion.
2) I have been struck by the complete absence of dogs or cats. There's absolutely no dog droppings on the street nor can dogs be seen anywhere. Similarly, there are no stray cats at all. I asked the guide, but he asked me to hold all my questions for the long bus ride tomorrow. Among the questions that I'm waiting to hear answers for are: when and why did Vietnam adopt the Roman script; why are there no dogs or cats; and was Hanoi seriously damaged by U.S. bombardment during the war?

Dad and I went back to the poolside cafe for lunch (two more bowls of pho), and dad is now napping. In about 40 minutes, we rejoin everyone for our rickshaw ride through the old town and then a water puppet show this afternoon. We're going to try to get reservations at the Hanoi Press Club for dinner, as it's only a block from the hotel and the guide book describes it as one of the most popular "dining experiences in Hanoi."

Close Your Eyes and Pray to God

2011-12-27T00:14:00.002-08:00

or how to cross the street in Hanoi.

The seats on our Dragonair flight to Hanoi had even less legroom than our Cathay Pacific flight, but at least these could recline. Unfortunately, that meant when the guy in front of me reclined, my paper was in his scalp. Luckily, it was a short flight.

We breezed through passport control in Hanoi. I've never, ever gone through passport control that quickly. A slightly nerve-wracking wait for luggage, mostly because we got an earlier flight to LA and I wasn't sure our luggage would catch up, but then we breezed through customs.

We had no trouble finding AMAWaterways, but they had trouble finding us. Someone goofed and they had us down on the no transfer list. Luckily, we happened upon them and they took us to the hotel. Had there not been others waiting for them, however, we might have had to wait in confusion, not understanding why no one was there to pick us up.

It was rather hazy and misty when we landed, and on the drive to Hanoi, someone asked the guide about smog. No, he said, this wasn't smoke like in China; rather, this time of year is generally misty and overcast. Walking around afterwards, we weren't choking, so I think this is mostly right.

Certain things really strike you right away about Hanoi. First is the enormous number of scooters and bicycles, zipping in and out, with only a few trucks, cars, and vans. The second thing is the architecture. In many communist countries (at least the ones in eastern Europe that I've seen), the state put up large, monotonous, generic apartment blocks where everyone lived. I generally describe such buildings as "charm free."

In Hanoi, by contrast, we saw almost no large buildings or flats, and none was generic. Most buildings were very thin, but varying in floors and depth, each differently decorated. I was really surprised by the variations.

Our hotel, the Sofitel Metropole Legend, is gorgeous. The room was clean and elegant. At first dad didn't think we had the complimentary water, so they brought more bottles. Then he found that the velvet wrapped bags didn't hold alcohol but the complimentary bottled water, so now we have 6 bottles of water. The room faces the old Opera House bar, but the windows are well sound proofed, so there's no street noise.

After showering and shaving, we went to lunch in the pool side cafe. We split an order of fried spring rolls, and we each had a bowl of pho, Vietnamese noodle soup. I'm trying to stay awake as long as possible (though I feel myself fading quickly), so after lunch we took an hour-long walk around the main lake at the center of old Hanoi.

The guide warned us about how to cross the street. Since the cars, scooters, and mopeds are constantly zipping by, they navigate based on where they think you're going to be. As a result, you can't stop, pause, or run while crossing the street, because that makes your position unpredictable. Instead, you just have to close your eyes, say a prayer, show no fear, and step out into the bedlam of traffic. The first major intersection, we crossed with a trio of middle aged women (always keeping them on the side of the oncoming traffic - no easy feat). The next time, there actually was a traffic cop.

There's a lot of communist-style posters (stuff one my see on display in the history of communism museum in Prague) commemorating the 65th anniversary of the beginning of the First Indochina War on December 19th. For new year's they have large numbers of kumquat trees for sale, so people can decorate their homes. Finally, there are a whole bunch of things under construction that seem to be rather kitchy displays, but of what we don't know.

At the center of the old part of Hanoi is a large green lake and park. Dad and walked around the perimeter of the lake, and then we returned to the hotel, where he went up to take a nap. I thought I might read my book for a while, but I'm so wiped that I may take a nap myself. Our dinner reservations are for 7pm (the French restaurant in the hotel), but I don't think I'm going to make it without a rest.

Hong Kong

2011-12-27T00:14:00.001-08:00

It's really strange being here in Hong Kong airport. On the one hand, I've never been this far away from "home" before. I really am on the other side of the world; 16 hours time difference. First time I've ever crossed the international date line. This is also the first place I've ever traveled to where I didn't speak a single word of the local language, leaving me feeling far more helpless than I'm comfortable with.

On the other hand, it's basically a large, international airport. In other words, completely generic. We even have generic Christmas carol muzak wafting into the Cathay Pacific business class lounge. I may be in China right now, but it doesn't really "feel" like China.

The flight was ok. It was over 14 hours and our seats didn't recline; instead they slid forward, tilting my head at an uncomfortable angle. Rather than further strain my sore neck, I slept sitting straight up. Luckily, the Ambien worked and I slept over four hours, and neither the occasionally screaming toddler two rows ahead of us, nor the sick and coughing gentleman across the aisle from me prevented me from falling asleep.

The breakfast options this morning were mushroom omelet or something called congee. I thought I would try the latter, but I got a glimpse of it and it looked like across between chicken and egg drop soup and thin porridge, so I switched to the omelet at the last minute.

Both my father and I are fine. We have about 2 hours before the last leg of our flight to Hanoi. Dad's particularly happy that they have bananas in the lounge.

I will write more in Hanoi when I am able.

[This was originally posted this morning on my other blog by mistake]

Leaving, on a Jet Plane

2011-12-27T00:13:00.001-08:00

Almost finished packing for the trip. The big question is whether I bring a handful of ballpoint pens to give to school children. Here's the itinerary:

Hanoi: 2 nights
Ha Long Bay: 1 nights
Siem Reap (Angkor Wat): 3 nights
Cruise down the Mekong River: 7 nights
Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon): 2 nights

[This was originally posted three days ago to my other blog by mistake]

Highlights of Study Abroad Trip - Krakow

2011-07-06T07:14:00.000-07:00

On the train to Krakow:

St. Mary's Church (in the Rynek):

The Barbican:

A late afternoon snack:

Walking around the Old City:

Meeting with Polish graduate students for dinner:

Nathan's Villa Hostel:

The Schindler Factory Museum:

Fragment of Krakow Ghetto wall:

Scenes in the former Krakow Ghetto:

Plaszow
Camp Commandant Amon Goeth's home (it's for sale):

Memorials at Plaszow
Communist era:

Post-communist:

Walking around Kazimierz:

Dinner at Szara Kazimierz
"Springtime Tatanka" (for me):

"Strawberry Mojito" (for everyone else):

Strawberry Tiramisu (for dessert):

The Estonian High School Students' Graduation Trip
This student had just mixed together a bottle of rum and coke for the bus (those are his teachers behind him):

This was the student who was left behind:

On the train to Tarnow:

Tarnow:

Ethnographic Museum (of the Roma):

Tarnow Rynek and street scenes:

Memorial to the first prisoners taken to Auschwitz:

The former Jewish bathhouse:

Storm clouds:

Anti-Semitic graffiti:

Dinner at Wesele:

Auschwitz-Birkenau:

Items stolen from victims:

Paintings by former prisoners depicting daily life in Auschwitz:

The so-called "Little White House" (the gas chamber and Crematorium I in Auschwitz):

Roma Pavillion:

Birkenau
Quarantine Barracks:

The Women's Camp:

The Extermination Area:
Where the ashes were dumped:

Ruins of Crematorium II:

Ruins of the Undressing Room:

Ruins of the Gas Chamber:

Ruins of Crematorium V:

The Sauna (where new prisoners were inducted into the camp):

Dinner (at U Babici Maliny):

Day trip to Zakopane:
Horse Carts to Morski Oko

The Lodge at Morski Oko:

The Lake:

Heading back to Zakopane:

Zakopane street scenes:

Late afternoon snack:

Sign for the Jewish Festival in Krakow:

Walking tour of Kazimierz synagogues:

Lunch in Kazimierz:

Wawel Castle:

Caught without an umbrella:

Farewell Dinner at Szara Kazimierz:

Last breakfast at the hostel:

Highlights of Study Abroad Trip - Warsaw

2011-07-05T21:54:00.001-07:00

Fragment of the Warsaw Ghetto wall:

One block of tenements from the Warsaw Ghetto:

Zapiekanki:
Instead of pizza sauce, ketchup:

Breakfast in Lodz:

Streets in the Litzmannstadt Ghetto (Lodz):

Radagast Station:

What Lodz might look like if it were renovated:

Anatewka restaurant (a "Jewish-themed" restaurant in Lodz)

Mugging for the camera:

On the train back to Warsaw, with views of the Polish countryside:

The Palace of Culture, Stalin's "Gift" to Poland:

Lunch in Old Town, Lublin:

Majdanek:

Canisters of Zyklon B:

The Gas Chamber:

Items taken from prisoners/victims:
Shoes:

Hair:

Drawings done by prisoners of other prisoners:

A model of the camp:

The "Shrine":

To the surviving barracks:

The crematorium:

The trenches where over 10,000 Lublin Jews were shot in 1943:

The urn holding two tons of human ash:

The train back to Warsaw through the Polish plain:

A monument to the Warsaw 'Rising:

Breakfast near the Old City of Warsaw:

The Gate to the Old City:

The Rynek:

The Castle:

The new stadium for the FIFA games next year:

Gessler Restaurant (in the Michelin Guide), in the Nowy Swiat neighborhood:

Coffee in Blikl Cafe:

Our hotel in Warsaw:

Touring the Memorial at the Site of the Treblinka Death Camp:

Model of the Camp in the Treblinka Museum:

Memorials in the Former Warsaw Ghetto:

The New Museum for the History of Polish Jews (under construction):

Umschlagplatz:

Former SS building on Umschlagplatz:

More street art:

The Janusz Korczak Orphanage:

The Palace of Culture:

Our second hotel in Warsaw:

Do it yourself heart health:

Dinner at Vogue/Style

Highlights of Study Abroad Trip - Prague

2011-07-05T20:01:00.001-07:00

The Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague:

Rain near the Church of Tyn:

The Charles Bridge:

Dinner in Malastrana at Cafe des Paris:

Malastrana and the Charles Bridge in the evening:

The entrance to our hotel (the stairs to the right at the end of the corridor, NOT the business in the back):

The ghetto field at Theresienstadt:

The crematorium:

The town of Terezin:

The entrance to the Small Fortress:

Our guide for the Small Fortress:

Cells:

Where Gavrilo Princip was held:

Interior passage along outer fortifications:

Place of executions:

A very Madonna-like memorial:

The new cells:

One of my favorite pieces of public art: by David Cerny:

Dinner at the Municipal House Cafe:

Beige food:

My dinner and dessert:

Prague at sunset:

More public art:

The fields around Lidice:

The memorial entrance at Lidice, depicting the destruction of the town, the imprisonment of the women, and the murder of the men:

The former town:

The memorial to the murdered children:

The mass grave of the men:

The ride back to Prague:

A late lunch at Cukrakavalimonada:

The Prague Metro:

Farmer's Market:

The sleeper train to Warsaw:

My compartment:

On the way to Poland:

Highlights of Study Abroad Trip - Berlin

2011-07-05T17:37:00.001-07:00

Some highlights from the Berlin leg of the trip.

At LAX (three of the four students):

Lunch in West Berlin:

The Neue Wache monument:

Coffee and cake at Unter den Linden:

The Brandenburg Gate:

At the Brandenburg Gate:

Opposite the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe:

Matzah, the affordable choice:

The new Topography of Terror Museum:

A fragment of the Berlin Wall:

Turkish pizza for lunch:

"Koscher" pepperoni pizza:

One of the "voids" in the Jewish Museum:

The Garden of Exile:

Cafe Einstein Stammhaus:

Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp:

Listening to the audio guide:

The communist era memorial:

Fassbender & Rausch, chocolate shop and cafe:

KaDeWe food halls:

KaDeWe toy shop:

Dinner at Moevenpick:

The students thought this was the funniest name for a bookstore they had ever heard:

Berlin: a bring your own keg party on the platform:

The garden of the Max Liebermann Villa in Wannsee:

The Wannsee Conference House:

A lousy Turkish pizza:

The Green Party bicycle event:

At Wannsee Station:

The Pergamon Museum:

Inside the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe:

Dinner:

The Komische Oper:

The Hauptbahnhof:

On the train to Prague:

Kazimierz

2011-06-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

Today was our last substantive day, and I set the morning aside for touring Kazimierz, the former Jewish district of Krakow. In some ways, this was out of order chronologically, since most of the sights here are 16th-18th centuries. But I thought it would be a good way to explore the postwar history of the community through the story of what happened to these buildings under communism.

We toured the various synagogues and walked around the Remuh cemetery. By noon, the students were tired and hungry so we went out to lunch next to the Kupa synagogue. After that, we headed up to Wawel Castle, where we walked around, looked at the view, and had coffee and crepes. Then we walked back to the Stare Miasto. I wanted to find a book on the Roma and Sinti exhibit at Auschwitz (they were sold out in the English language version - I should have just bought the German). The students went off to do souvenir shopping, while I looked for the bookstore. The skies started to look very, very threatening, and about a block from the bookstore, it started pouring. Of course, after carrying around my umbrella for days, including that morning, I had dropped it off back at the hotel before heading to Wawel Castle.

All that effort was for nought as the bookstore didn't have it either. I took my guide to Krakow, opened it up, and put it on my head as a hat. I got a lot of strange looks, but my head stayed dry. Back at the Rynek I found the students who had taken shelter under an awning. Lots of photos of me looking bedraggled. Then we headed off for dinner.

I made reservations at Szara Kazimierz, which the students really loved, for our farewell dinner. I told them that I would pick up the costs of all food, including appetizers, main course, and dessert, but that they would be on their own for drinks. The steak was terrific and we all enjoyed our meal immensely.

Back at the hostel, the students did all my course evaluations and we made our plans on how to get to the airport tomorrow. My next blog entry should be in the U.S., when I can start posting travel photos.

Zakopane

2011-06-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a free day. My idea behind this was first, to give the students a psychological break after spending a full day at Auschwitz-Birkenau, and second, to hope that the students would use the time to see some of the more beautiful parts of Poland.

One student went to the Wieliczka salt mines, a UNESCO world heritage site near Krakow, where the mines go back centuries, and you can find elaborate rooms carved fully out of salt. The three other students and I went south to Zakopane.

This was the first time I ever tried to do this as a day trip. I asked the students Friday night if they would prefer to leave on the 8:40 or 9:40 am bus. "Why would anyone ever want to take the 8:40 bus?" one student replied. I set 9 am as our departure time from the hotel.

I had forgotten to check the tram schedules, so we missed the tram by 2 minutes. Instead of running every 10 minutes, on Saturday, it's more like every 20 minutes. That meant we didn't get to the station in time for coffee, and the 9:40 bus was full. Instead we caught a slower bus that left at 9:45 am. We got to Zakopane around 12:15. While the students looked for coffee, I went to look for the bus to Lysa Polana, our next leg of the trip. I heard a Polish announcement over a loud speaker, mentioning Morskie Oko and found the bus. I called the students over and we got on. After a 20-minute ride, we reached Lysa Polana.

By now it was getting close to 1 pm, so we stopped for coffee or hot chocolate (apparently this was powdered coffee and the students didn't care for it). Now it was time for the next phase of our trip: the horse-drawn carriages. I was the first on in my row so that meant I was sitting rather close to the horses' back end. We had to wait until the cart filled up and finally we started off.

Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop. This carriage moved far more slowly than the one I took four years ago. Every now and again I could hear the driver talk to the horses "Yo" "Yo" "Andeen" "Yo," etc. A 3-year old little girl on the cart would sometimes happily yell out "Yo!" One of the students turned out be quite allergic to horses and had to cover her nose and mouth. It took us over 1.5 hours to reach the end of the path. From there we had a 20 minute walk to the lake (Morski Oko). We made it by 3pm.

I had checked the weather and it was supposed to be warm and overcast with possible thunderstorms, but it turned out to be quite cold. I was the only one in both shorts and t-shirt. Nonetheless, I'm very cold tolerant (it's heat I can't take). We entered the ski chalet lodge at Morski Oko, and got in line for food. I ordered chicken schnitzel (my safe default), with vegetables and potatoes, along with a cappucino and a slice of szarlotka (apple cake). I also brought some rolls and cheese with me from Krakow.

Food never tastes so good as when you have to hike to it and it's cold outside. We happily ate and sat in the warm room for 30 minutes. Then we went out again to look at the lake, walked down to the shore, looked at the ducks. Around 4pm, we turned around to walk back. Just as we started we saw a large doe near the path grazing. Some dozen photos later, we continued on. The area is so green, with small rills, white, blue and yellow wildflowers, little ponds surrounded by grassy meadows, and then, further on, a stream flowing down out of the mountains. On three sides, tall craggy peaks, faced with sheer cliffs, some still with snow, rise up.

It was cold and late, so we took the horse-cart back down. This time, he moved much faster and we made the entire journey in less than 30 minutes. We quickly caught a bus back to Zakopane and were in town by 5 pm. Instead of rushing back, we walked around the town. I showed them the open air market, full of kitschy highland products. One of the odder sights were the giant, life-sized costumed figures, including a "Hello Kitty" person. Then there were the people selling the tiny toy mechanical dogs, who barked, twitched, and had possessed-looking green glowing eyes.

We went into a dessert place for a snack before the bus, and two of us had some fresh waffles with really fresh and tasty Polish strawberries. Another student got a dessert omelet. The students were also happy to get "decent coffee" for the first time that day.

We caught the 7:15 bus back to Krakow and made it to the city in less than 2 hours. Along the way we passed through Nowy Targ, where my grandmother's family came from. While there are some nice pre-war buildings, a lot of the downtown is made up of communist-era "charm free" structures. As Poland has boomed recently, the newer buildings outside of the center are being put up in the highland style, so the city is a real mix. But unless you were going to the Thursday morning weekly regional market, I would skip it.

Back in Krakow, I found some English-language books for the plane, and then we went looking for dinner. One student requested we return to Wesely, so we did so. She loved the salads and in fact ordered two: one for appetizer, one for main course. I had the green peppercorn steak this time. The steak was well cooked but the sauce seemed to have more capers than peppers. It just tasted odd. The fresh strawberry cocktail for dessert remains the highlight of the meal.

The large tour group in the neighboring room was entertained with musicians and dancers in traditional Polish garb. None of us thought the singers were that good; more kitsch than class.

By the time we headed back to the hotel it was 11:30 and the trams had shut down. Luckily it was only a 15 minute walk. Since Sunday, our last full day, involves just a walking tour of the former Jewish neighborhood of Kazimierz, I told the students they could sleep in until 9:30 am.

I intended to sleep in as well, but the rain this morning woke me. I went back to sleep, but eventually woke up, glanced at the clock and saw it was 6:30, so got up. After I showered, shaved, and dressed, I checked my watch. It was only 6:15 am. I had misread the clock and had gotten up at 5:30 am by mistake (sunrise is at 4:20 am). So my last full day in Poland is going to be a rather long one.

When we're in Kazimierz later this morning, I'm going to try to make a reservation for tonight's farewell dinner back at Szara Kazimierz, since that was the students' favorite place so far. Then, tomorrow, we head back to the States. I'm hoping my tomatoes are still alive.

Auschwitz-Birkenau

2011-06-17T22:15:00.000-07:00

We had to race out of here to get to the bus station. I hoped to find a closer stop to our hotel, but it wasn't across the street from the one we got off at. We had to walk quickly to the other stop. When the tram let us off at the train station, we had less than 10 minutes to get to the bus. That meant racing through the mall, down to the tunnel, past all the train platforms, up the other end, and then down stairs to the lower level of the bus terminal, where our bus was waiting at the opposite end. By the time we reached it, we were drenched in sweat (as it was already quite warm and humid). Luckily there were still 5 empty seats. I paid for our tickets and the driver closed the door and took off.

The bus (really a short bus or large van), took us through the quiet, rural backroads of Poland. I've always thought the Polish countryside is one of the most beautiful features of Poland. After an hour and a half we reached the Auschwitz museum.

I went in and bought us a guided tour, and then hurried the students into the English language film that had just started. The guided tour of Auschwitz I took two hours. The first barrack block covered the extermination process, the second block had the items plundered from victims, such as tons of human hair, suitcases, clothing, children's shoes, tooth brushes, glasses, etc.

The third block covered the daily life of prisoners selected for extermination through labor. Here there is a stronger emphasis on Poles in Auschwitz, since most Jews arriving in camp were gassed immediately on arrival. The camp was originally created for Polish political prisoners in 1940 and only expanded to include extermination facilities in 1942.

The next part of the tour was the punishment block, block 11. This was a prison (really a torture chamber) for prisoners who violated camp rules. As always I skip this one. The space is very narrow and very crowded. I waited outside until everyone came out and then I rejoined the tour. From there we walked to an appelplatz. While the guide was discussing public executions, a synagogue group next to us started singing "oseh shalom." It felt somewhat odd to hear a carefully arranged choir, with harmonies, singing this there.

The last stop in the camp was what in camp slang was known as "the little white house." This was the original gas chamber and crematorium for Auschwitz I. In December 1944, it wasn't blown up by the SS like the ones in Birkenau, but converted to a bomb shelter. As a result, it survived intact.

Instead of joining the tour to Birkenau, we broke away from the group. It was 12:30 pm, and I wanted us to get lunch first. There is a cafeteria next to the parking lot, but I warned the students not to get their hopes up; no one goes to Auschwitz for the food. I went with my default choice in situations like this: chicken schnitzel with cole slaw. One student has brought a seemingly endless supply of granola bars to sustain her rather than have to eat in dodgy establishments.

After lunch, we went back into Auschwitz I. In addition to the main overview barracks, there are individual "pavillions" created by various nations describing what happened to their citizens in Auschwitz. We started with the Roma pavillion. Right off the bat, the students noted several differences with the Tarnow museum. First off, it doesn't open with photos of gypsy women begging, but of middle class Roma. It also makes it clear how offensive the term "gypsy" is. The pavillion traces out the persecution of Roma and Sinti in Europe, culminating in their ghettoization, deportation to death camps, and their extermination. On the walls in one section, they have all the names of Roma deported to Birkenau to the so-called "gypsy camp." They have a small darkened room for contemplation. An eternal candle burns faintly in a black square on the floor, while images of Roma children are displayed, and a mournful Roma melody is heard.

Next, we went to the Hungarian pavillion. Called "Citizens Betrayed," it chronicles the combined guilt of the Hungarian political elite, Hungarian society, and the Nazis in the murder of the Jews of Hungary. It's really an early version of the Hungarian Holocaust Museum in Budapest. In the late 1990s, the Viktor Orban government proposed changing the pavillion in order to white wash the role of Admiral Horthy, but public outcry blocked it. To see what he intended, you can go to the "House of Terror" museum in Budapest, which engages in Holocaust minimalization. Now that Orban is again leading the Hungarian government, with the neo-Nazi Jobbik party the third largest in Hungary, I wanted the students to see it before he gets a chance to fiddle with it again.

The final pavillion was the Jewish pavillion. Originally opened in 1967, this was a very problematic place. Since the Polish communist government was ideologically anti-Zionist, no Hebrew language texts appeared in the exhibit. After the Six Day War, the pavillion was closed, only to be reopened over a decade later. When I went through in 2006, it was a mess. Yesterday we found that it is now closed while they redo the exhibit. It's about time. The only section open was the final room where you could push a button and hear a song. It was "El maleh rachamim," from the yiskor service. Sung in Ashkenazi accent, with organ and some distortion from the speakers, it was heard to make out all the words, but I translated as best I could. Despite all that I still found it more meaningful and appropriate than the Oseh shalom we heard earlier. The El maleh prayer is more a scream of pain, and reflects the feeling of horror of being in this place, while Oseh shalom feels more synagogue.

We left Auschwitz I and caught the bus to Auschwitz II - Birkenau. I led the students from the Quarantine barracks to the women's camp, telling them different stories I and heard from survivors. One story, about a boy saved on the selection ramp by a prisoner brought me to tears, and I had to pause for a while. We made our way to the ruins of Crematoria II and III and saw how 2-3,000 could be gassed in each in 30 minutes. I told the students about the gassing of the Czech family transport. In 2007, I tried to tell that story to someone and completely broke down. I guess I'm getting a little jaded, as I only had to pause for a bit to collect myself.

The Czech Jews had been in the camp 6 months by that point and were in much better condition than normal prisoners. There was an effort to organize an uprising, but the Nazis took precautions and used extraordinary force to beat them into the undressing room. Many were beaten to death in the undressing room but they refused to undress. Instead they sang the Czech national anthem and Hatikvah. One sonnderkommando who witnessed it, and survived, decided to commit suicide by joining them in the gas chamber. There a group of women told him that his death wouldn't save them, told him he had to live and tell the world of the injustice done to him, and threw him out of the gas chamber. He survived.

We went from there to the so-called "sauna," where new prisoners were inducted into the camp: their heads shaved, washed in either scalding or freezing water, and then they were given camp uniforms.

Our final stop, after seeing some of what they've found in the ruins of the Kanada barracks (where the loot of those murdered was kept) was Crematoria IV and V. There I told the students about the uprising of the sonderkommando in October 1944, who destroyed one of the crematoria, killed a few of the SS guards, and managed to escape from the camp. Unfortunately, all those who escaped were captured and killed.

It was getting late, so we went back to Auschwitz I and then went to catch the bus back to Krakow. There was a large crowd by the bus stop, and only two buses left back to Krakow. When the bus arrived, it was clear it wouldn't be large enough for all of us. Some people cried out that those with pre-paid tickets should go first. We were among the more than a dozen who couldn't get on.

I knew, however, that this bus wasn't our only choice. The private bus we took had left us off outside the camp area, so we walked to that place, where there were far fewer people waiting. To make a long story a little shorter, we all got on that bus (though one person lectured me about line jumping, since I hadn't yielded position to those who had been sitting on the bench). This bus actually got quite crowded later on as the driver continued to pick up passengers in small towns on the way back. I noticed that although the no smoking sign was posted, apparently that was only meant for the passengers since the driver puffed away.

Back in Krakow, I suggested a restaurant near the train station (it was nearly 8pm). U Babci Malina (Chez Grandma Raspberry) turned out to be a cute, kitschy, and not to expensive place. I ended up with the schnitzel again, and it was really good. The Hungarian latkes, covered in gravy, cheese, and sour cream (ordered by two students) looked like a mess, but if you like latkes, it's supposed to be good.

After that, three of the students went to the mall to shop, while I and another student visited an ATM and went back to the hotel. I went to sleep early, slept nearly 9 hours, and am now rested and mostly refreshed for today's trip to Zakopane.

Estonimania

2011-06-16T21:23:00.000-07:00

Wednesday evening, I took the students to Kazimierz to look for restaurants. We walked from the hotel (it's only 15 minutes away), and I showed them one of the more famous courtyards in the area, one that was used in Schindler's List and countless other movies. The market square is zapiekanki central (a strange, french-bread pizza looking thing that usually has ketchup squirted on top in place of tomato sauce).

We walked around several restaurants in Szeroka square and the students settled on Szara Kazimierz. As it happens, this is a Michelin guide recommended restaurant and a branch of the more famous location on the Rynek Glowny. We ate in the outside garden in the back, and it reminded me, a little, of the garden space at Cafe Einstein Stammhaus in Berlin.

I tried the mint tatanka to start (like a regular tatanka, but with mint liquer and mint leaves), it was delicious. Most everyone else had some raspberry-based drinks. We skipped the first course and went right to the main. I had the special: veal stew with roasted small potatoes (yummy), while the others got turnadoes of beef, roast ostrich, and the plank steak. It turns out the plank steak is what they are most famous for. For dessert, most of us got the strawberry tiramisu. Everyone enjoyed the meal immensely and declared it was the best of the trip. I'm going to take the students back here on Sunday evening for our final dinner.

When we got back to the hotel, a very large group (30) of graduating high school seniors from Estonia were trying to check in. I found out later that part of the problem was that the teachers were "shocked" to discover that they had to actually pay for the rooms. I went off to the bus station to scout out information on buses to Auschwitz and Zakopane, and when I came back three of the students were down in the pool room chatting with some of the Estonians.

When I came down for breakfast the next day, the kitchen tables were a collection of beer, vodka, rum, and coke bottles. Some of the Estonians had been out clubbing and never went to bed. One turned out to be the son of the chief justice of Estonia. Unlike my university, Estonian high schools do not seem to have rules on drinking on school trips. Most of them were still pretty shloshed. We swapped stories about drinking regulations and they concluded that America was far too rigid. They decided that unlike their teachers, I was a "cool guy," which was probably clouded by the alcohol.

One of my students told me that earlier they had found one Estonian student passed out, and he told them about the American tradition of drawing on passed-out students, so they (the Estonians) decided to paint a Hitler mustache on him. One can only imagine how that will go over when they visited Auschwitz later in the day.

The teachers came down and told the students to get ready to leave, but the son of the chief justice didn't want to leave all the rum behind. There was still a quarter of a bottle left, so he carefully poured some of the left over coca cola into it and the shook it up to mix. With his teacher standing behind him, he took a couple swigs. I told him I had to get a picture of that. Then they left for Auschwitz and then to Slovakia. This is a one-week graduation trip.

After the Estonians left, the clerk came over and told us about the difficulties they had with the Estonian teachers not wanting to pay their bill, when in wandered one of the students. We called him "boxer boy," since he had carefully drooped his pants so that most of his boxer shorts were visible. One of my students told me that during the early morning he had plopped down at the kitchen table to join the discussion while only wearing the boxers, but by the time I came down, he had put his pants on. Boxer boy was very drunk, and quite lost. It seems that while he had gone out with the others to get on the bus, somehow he was too drunk to do so, and the teachers hadn't noticed he was missing and the bus had left without him.

He was asking the desk clerk for directions to the castle, as he thought his group was going there first, but he kept leaving without the map. He was clearly dazed. He left dragging his suitcase and headed off in the direction of Wawel castle. Just as one of my students wished him good luck, his suitcase hit the curb and one of the wheels popped off and flew off. He continued to drag the suitcase down the street, the axel now scrapping the sidewalk. He kept looking around trying to figure out why his bag was so hard to pull. We never heard from him again.

Once my students were dressed and down, we headed off to Tarnow. This is a medium-sized Polish town about an 1.5 hours by local train from Krakow. We had one of the older, slower, and less comfortable trains, and it was rather warm and sticky on board (the weather is still awful). We stopped off at a bakery a little ways from the train station, and the snacks were so good, I went back for seconds. One student bought a huge piece of strawberry cake and shared it with the class. He still had over a third of left by the time we got back.

The primary purpose of our visit was the Ethnographic museum on the Roma. This is the first museum in the world dedicated to the history of what are commonly called Gypsies. Unfortunately, while the organizer of the museum is trained as an anthropologist, a good historian would have done a better job of covering the material. They had a Roma blacksmith out back teaching a class of school kids how to beat iron. I think in some ways, this is more of a political statement than pedagogic place, one meant to show that Roma are worthy of being studied.

From there we walked to the main square and then to Jews' Street to see a few memorials and ruins. It was about to rain so we darted into a pizza place and waited. And waited and waited and waited. I finally went in, managed to communicate through sign gestures that we wanted menus and food, and eventually a waitress appeared and took our order. The pizzas weren't bad, and then we continued on our way after the rain had passed.

The humidity was still near 100% as we got to the monument to the first Poles sent to Auschwitz. When the camp was opened in 1940, the Nazis seized 728 people from Tarnow, who were the first prisoners sent there. I had hoped to find the Jewish cemetery, but I got lost, it wasn't on any maps, and the directional signs disappeared. I asked several people, but none of them could understand my request. With the sky getting ominously dark, I suggested we hurry back to the train station.

While the students wanted to visit the bakery again, it was clear a bad storm was coming. By the time we reached it, rain was beginning to fall. Only two of us brought umbrellas, so we hurried on to the train station. The main hall was full of munchkins (Polish high school students) with backpacks and suitcases for an end-of-term school trip. We eventually found seats on a much nicer, state-of-the art train back to Krakow, with much needed air conditioning.

I don't think I would take students back to Tarnow. The Roma pavillion at Auschwitz is far more informative, and the one in Tarnow is just not worth the 3 hours round trip to get to it. I'm thinking that when I do this trip again, I'll split Auschwitz into two days, doing Auschwitz I (the Stammlager) on the first day, and Auschwitz II (Birkenau) and the second.

After helping students run errands when we got back to Krakow I scouted out some restaurants for dinner. We ended up at Wesele just off the Rynek Glowny, another Michelin guide recommended place. We started off with salads (though one student tried and very much enjoyed the sour rye soup), as many of us are still trying to recover from vegetable withdrawal after Germany. Even though there haven't been any E-coli cases here, I wasn't going to try the alfafa sprouts on my salad caprese.

For a main course, I had the goose breast with dwarf apples and cranberry sauce. Two students had the steak, and one was unhappy that hers wasn't cooked medium, but rare. I ended up finishing hers (it was delicious). My goose tasted dry, but the sauce was yummy. For dessert almost all of us went with the strawberry cocktain, which tasted like a fresh strawberry smoothie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. Very good. After that, it was back to the hotel.

Today, we head off in a little bit for Auschwitz-Birkenau. Tomorrow will be a free day and I'm hoping for better weather when I head south to Zakopane. Supposedly a cold front is approaching, one we desperately need. This has been the hottest June in parts of Europe for many years. People are comparing it to the summer of 2003 when more than 10,000 people died from the heat. Last year, the weather was cool for almost the entire trip. This year has been the reverse, with high heat and humidity. Blech.

Schindler

2011-06-15T07:38:00.000-07:00

After we put in our laundry and got settled in our hotel, we headed out to meet a Polish professor (Zygmunt Mazur) and his students. They are masters students in American literature, and we're having their last class of the year. We met at a rather nice restaurant near to Jagellonian University. Every now and then, Dr. Mazur asked a student to accompany him to another room to discuss their work, while the rest of us sat and talked.

After introductions, two of my students sat on one end and chatted with Dr. Mazur and half the students, while the other two students and I sat on the other end and chatted with the other half of the class. The students we spoke with were an eclectic bunch: Marek is planning on teaching English as a foreign language, possibly in China. He spoke English with a British accent, in part because he modeled his speech on the BBC. Theresa was rather quiet, so I'm not sure what she is doing, while Natalia is doing her masters on the Polish underground in Auschwitz (she, herself, in from Oswiencim). Barbara is doing her dissertation on James Fenimore Cooper as is an ex-pat American.

The American students in my section were somewhat shy about talking, so one suggested an ice breaker: one would ask a question (e.g., what sort of bagel would you be) and the rest had to answer. Several of Polish students weren't familiar with bagels, so I suggested peirogi. They all chose "Russkie"(which is the American students' favorite type - potato and cheese). Eventually, they began to talk and really hit it off. Barbara, Dr. Mazur, and I had a long talk about essence and social construct in identity. Barbara is a returning student, and thus somewhat older than the others (as someone who also went back to school later in life, we had a lot in common). She is of native American heritage and strongly believes in the idea that certain responses to natural stimuli can be biologically inherited.

It was a little too warm for a hot meal, so I had a salad nicoise and a lemonade; the students chose to get the alcoholic lemonades and mojitos. We talked until nearly 10 pm when it was time for the restaurant to close. I think several of the students shared facebook info so now they befriending each other (which is great! I really wanted them to get to know Poles as people and not just as "others"). If the timing works, we may meet Dr Mazur for breakfast on Sunday. Barbara lives just around the corner for our hostel, so she walked us back past the Jagellonian University.

I took the students down stairs to where the rec room, pool table, and bar is in the hostel. They are in separate buildings, which keeps the sleeping areas quiet. I ordered a Tatanka, which is half zubrowka vodka and half apple juice. It was delicious but strong. After I finished it, I said goodnight to the students and went upstairs.

The key to my room is beyond tempremental, but it opened quickly last night (not so this morning, where I struggled and cursed for five minutes). The bed is rather soft for my tastes, and the weather was cool but still somewhat damp. The drapes were better than the ones in Warsaw, but still too sheer (in Warsaw, I woke up at 3:50 am thinking it was dawn -- it was!). I forgot how little sunlight Polish curtains block. I managed to stay in bed until 6:30 am.

I'm not thrilled with the shower in the room (it drains slowly so after 5 minutes I needed to turn it off to prevent flooding the bathroom), and the sink looks as if it's about to fall off (it's listing badly, like the Titanic an hour after it hit the iceberg). Nonetheless, I had no problems and went downstairs after 7 am and picked up my laundry. I'm now set for the rest of the trip.

Breakfasts are continental: bread, margarine, jam, tea, and coffee. There are some characters staying here. One guy yesterday kept talking loudly to everyone in the kitchen about his legal difficulties in Ukraine and at the Polish border, and his girlfriend's unreasonable demands ("you know how women are" I heard him say). After he left, the Polish guy at the front desk came over to me and said, "that guy's crazy." At breakfast, I had a retired English teacher from Scotland sit at my table and start to talk, but he turned out to be rather hard of hearing and somewhat "off." He also had been in Ukraine. "How long," I asked? "Three months... no six months... no nine months... wait, I think it was twelve," he said.

Today we went to the Schindler factory. They asked me to arrive 20 minutes before 10, but the door was locked and didn't open until 10. Still, it worked out as we got in before two very large Polish high school tours. We briefly met a survivor who had been in Theresienstadt, but had no time to really talk to her.

The Schindler museum is a professionally done museum chronicalling the imprisonment and murder of the Jews of Krakow and the conquest and enslavement of the city. When I was here in 2007, they were still working on it. Like many new museums, this has all sorts of artifices to concretize the experience: floors and walls that recreate bombed neighborhoods, ghetto streets, or the Plaszow slave labor camp. I have mixed feelings about these sorts of recreations, as they veer too close to a Disneyland-like theme park. There was a moving memorial at the end called the "room of choices"in which there were brief quotes in various languages describing life and death decisions people made.

We found a restaurant opposite the main ghetto square for lunch. I ordered the daily special: dill soup, stuffed cabbage, and "kompot"-- a kind of fruit drink made from soaking strawberries in water. I also got the mizeria -- sliced cucumbers in sour cream. Two of the students liked my stuffed cabbage so much they ordered it after finishing their main courses. Afterwards, we walked to a coffee house for coffee and cake. I asked for a cafe au lait, but got a large cup of coffee with maybe an inch of steamed milk on top. I added four tablespoons of sugar to make it drinkable.

The sky was getting threatening and it was hot and humid, so we went across the square to the pharmacy that stood in the ghetto. The owner was the only non-Jew in the ghetto and did everything he could to help the Jews. Afterwards, we took the tram to Plaszow. The entire camp was torn down, but we saw where Amon Göth's house stood. He was the camp commandant, and he used to shoot at prisoners randomly for target practice. People live in it still and there's a sign up that it's for sale. At one point the humidity spiked and it started to drizzle, but the main rain fell mainly north of us. We went up to see the central memorials and then made our way back to Krakow.

We stopped off at a grocery store around the corner from the hostel. I picked up some butter and juice for the morning, along with a fresh banana and some joghurt. The students are all showering and then we're meeting for dinner at 6 pm. I'm going to take them to the former Jewish quarter where there are lots of cafes. Tomorrow, we're off to Tarnow.

Treblinka and Krakow

2011-06-14T08:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was our guided tour of Treblinka.

Our guide, Kristof, picked us up at 9am. The journey takes about 2 hours (slightly normal than usual due to the construction on the road near Malkinia, which made us take a detour). As we got closer, we started to see nests with white storks. They are considered good luck, the guide told us, and farmers build nest hoping storks will choose their farm as a home.

We reached Treblinka and started the tour. The original camp was completely decommissioned following the revolt in 1943, so there are no original structures remaining. The outlines of the camp fence, the railroad tracks, the ramp, the road to the gas chambers, the gas chambers themselves, and the pits where the bodies were burned are entirely suggested by sculptures.

The whole area is ringed with trees and is quiet. There's no sound but the chirping of birds and the buzzing of large bee-like insects. Instead of graves or gravestones, there is a field of stones, some bearing the names of Jewish communities who were murdered in Treblinka. Until spring 1944, this was the most lethal death camp: nearly 900,000 people were murdered here in just one year. Auschwitz-Birkenau only surpassed it with the murder of the Jews of Hungary.

I tried to emphasize how this was murder by schedule. They couldn't just randomly pick up Jews and send them to Treblinka. They had to send only the number that could be gassed and burned in the necessary time. They had to schedule the death train so that it would depart and arrive at specific times. The train was booked by German state travel office (by the same people planning group excursions for government officials).

They've opened a new museum at Treblinka, with models and photographs of how the death camp operated (there are photos of the steam shovels digging the pits for where the ashes of those murdered and burned were buried). All the text is in Polish.

On the drive back, our guide told us a little about growing up and the end of communism. He was only 6 in 1989, so he said that the biggest impact of the fall of communism was that suddenly the tv got more channels.

Back in Warsaw, I took the students to the monument to the heroes of the ghetto uprising (though I got lost and took them through Krasinich Park first). From there were went to Mila 18, the mound under which the leaders of the ghetto resistance force died and are buried. Our last stop was the Umschlagplatz. There are still some buildings used by the SS on the street that are still standing.

We then changed hotels to one closer to the train station. This one was more of a communist-era hotel. The rooms were a bit more spartan, but the hotel did provide a decent breakfast this morning. I asked the students if they wanted me to guide them anywhere in Warsaw. One student wanted to see the Korczak orphanage. This stood on the fringes of what became the smaller ghetto. It wasn't hard to get to. There was a bust and name in front and some plaques, including one commemorating the ORT teachers and students who died in the Warsaw ghetto. We tried to enter, but the guard got really huffy, glared at us, barred our way, and then carefully watched us leave, just to make sure we didn't try to sneak back in.

Back at the train station, I bought our tickets to Krakow while the student did some shopping at the mall. Then we crossed the street to go to Stalin's "Gift to the Polish people" - the tallest building in Poland, partly based on the Empire State Building, but far more brutal in its harsh architecture. A classic example of Socialist Realism (or what is also known as "wedding cake" style). It was a quick ride to the 30th floor to the observation deck. They have an elevator attendant. Her sole job is to push the buttons for the top and bottom floors. The views were great; we snapped some shots and then went back to the hotel.

On the way, I noticed a restaurant that had a "strawberry menu"and I had been looking for one all trip. We went back there for dinner and were some of the only people in the restaurant. I noticed that when it's clear that the waiter or waitress speak virtually no english, the students simply persist in speaking English, certain in the knowledge they will get what they want. The irony is that the waitress remembered all of their orders, but had to come back to find out what I had ordered in Polish, as she had forgotten.

I started off with strawberry perogies. The students all had pasta at first and then she brought me a plate of what, I swear to God, looked like pancreas floating in white and red sauce. Then I realized they were the strawberry perogies in sour cream with strawberry sauce drizzled over them. They were fantastic (if more than a little ugly). The pasta I ordered was ok. I had a strawberry lemonade that was so thick the pulp clogged the straw. It was great. I then tried one of the strawberry mojitos the students were praising, and it was good too. The only problem with the place is that they played the same Green Day album over and over and over through out the meal.

Today we got the high speed train (such as they are in Poland) to Krakow. No problem checking in, though they want the entire bill in cash up front. I found a bank in the Old City to cash my traveler's cheques. My door lock is rather touchy, but I'm hoping I don't have too much trouble with it. I like this place, but two of the students are complaining that their bathroom smells like something died in it. Just now, one came in to tell me that they just found a spray in the communal bathroom to take away the smell.

We walked around the old town and had a snack by the Barbican. I ordered the "Cherry"sunday (that's what they called it). It had cherry and vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, fresh whole cherries, and vodka. Lots of vodka. That came as a shock. The ice cream was refreshing, but it was as if they tucked in a shot among it. Sort of like a vodka cherry milk shake. Then we walked back to the hotel. We're meeting a group of Polish college students for dinner an about an hour. I need to change, since I dripped chocolate sauce and cherries on my pants. Luckily, the hotel has a laundry service.

Free Day in Warsaw

2011-06-12T12:17:00.000-07:00

Today was the first of the two "free days." The students asked that I walk them around Old Town, and one really wanted to see the castle. I suggested we meet at 10am in the lobby. One student said "I'll see you at 11 am." "10 am," I replied. "So that's 11 am," he said. "No, 10 am." "11," he replied. I reminded him it was a free day and that he didn't have to meet us at 10, if he didn't want to. He smiled and went back to his laptop.

We left around 10 am (with the student), and went first to the Old City. On the way we stopped for coffee, but the waitress didn't speak English. I kept asking for 5 minutes. She pointed at various menu items. Eventually, we managed to order. In the end, I think they provided us the wrong bill (it was cheaper than it should be), but I had no way to tell them so.

A little further on, we entered the Old City. It's hard to believe that it was all rubble just 55 years ago. They rebuilt it based on the paintings of Canneletto. We made our way to the castle and since it was Sunday, there was no charge for tickets. We rented head phones and made our way through the main rooms. After the Nazis dynamited it in 1944, it was slowly rebuilt, from donations from Poles around the world. While the walls are new, the furnishings are mostly original, salvaged from the damaged building during the war.

When we were done we went to lunch. We ended up at Gessler Restaurant, a very upscale place in Nowy Swiat (it's in the Michelin guide). We ate downstairs in the labyrinth-like warren of white tiled rooms, interspersed with rooms containing the restaurant's pantries and kitchen. I had a mix of pierogi and Chlodnik soup (very similar to borscht). I loved both. One student got the beef roulade and loved it. The rest seemed happy. Afterwords, I took them to Cafe Blickle for dessert. Some got coffee eclairs or strawberry eclairs and were happier (I think). I got a panczek (jelly donut).

One of the student is keeping a quote book, where she writes down what she calls my "smart-butt sayings." "Like what?" I asked. She mentioned a comment I made the night before at dinner. One student wanted a strawberry margarita, but they were out. After mentioning four of five times that he really wanted one, I said that I really wanted world peace, but I don't think either of us are going to get our wishes tonight. That went in her quote book.

I try to keep the students amused on long train rides and they told me they like it when I'm not so serious (kind of hard, though, with this subject). The same student said that they like it when I act "Dr. Silly Pants." I told them that I try to be professional, but they want me to loose up more.

One of the students wanted to go shopping at the mall by the train station, but it was closed for Sunday (the store, not the mall). After that, some of them went home, while two went with me to the National Theater. I got one of the last tickets for "The Rite of Spring." Then we went back to the hotel where they went on the internet while I changed.

I was a little confused at first about the performance, but I realized, at the first intermission, that it was in fact three performances of Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring," but with three different choreographers.

The first was a reproduction of Nijinsky's original staging, that led to a riot in the theater. It was followed by a radically different interpretation by an Israeli choreographer (Emanuel Gat), and then a less radical one by Maurice Bejart.

I really enjoyed the Nijinsky version; it was a real treat to see what had caused such controversy 100 years ago. The audience seemed more tepid and gave it their lightest applause.

Gat's staging was radically different. In place of the primeval Slavic landscape, there was a black stage, with only a dark square of carpet and either red or white lights. There were only five dancers: two men and three women, who danced it as a samba. Each choreographer has to teach the audience how to read his language of dance, and this took a while for me. It was a challenging work, particularly in light of the strong impact of Nijinsky.

Much of the dancing involved either two women competing for one man or two men competing for one woman. Sometimes all five danced together. Given the images of the sacrifice that lingered from the early choreography, I felt a great deal of tension wondering how these dancing struggles would end and who would be left out. In the end, though, the four paired off in two couples, leaving the one woman remaining as the sacrifice.

Bejart's piece was far more accessible, but I found it duller. From the program notes, I could read that he meant to strip the specific from Stravinksky's work to make it universal. Act I involved men awakening, while Act II began with the women awakening. In both cases, the choreography reminded me of yoga moves. "Is that what the Downard Facing Dog position looks like?" I wondered. In any case, much of the choreography for the men and women seemed to reflect cliched conceptions of masculinity and femininity. I found it far more predictable, but the audience went crazy for it, giving it their most prolonged applause. Just goes to show how little I know about modern dance.

Now to go upstairs and pack. Tomorrow we change hotels in Warsaw (I couldn't get rooms for tomorrow night here) and then head to Treblinka. On Tuesday, we're off for Krakow.

Majdanek

2011-06-11T14:57:00.000-07:00

I always knew this would be a difficult day.

We did the same breakfast routine as yesterday. I encouraged the students to get downstairs a little earlier if they wanted to pick up coffee next door, but Coffeeheaven turned out be closed and cordoned off with police tape, so no coffee. But since I had bought the train tickets the day before, we had time at the main station for them to buy their morning coffee.

More problems dealing with the construction in the main station, and the fact that the 9am train turned out to be at 9:21. Finally, we got on. Not enough seats for all of us in one compartment, so one student ended up a few doors down. One person in that cabin wanted all the doors and windows closed so he roasted; the rest of us were very comfortable.

We reached Lublin by noon, and I suggested we eat first, since I didn't think we'd be hungry afterwards. We went into the old town and admired the medieval and renaissance buildings. Then we stopped off at a crepe place for lunch. It was called "Zadora" (as in Pia). The crepes were all made with buckwheat flour and were really good. I had the mushroom one with mushroom sauce. Afterwards we walked down to the lower gate that divided the upper, Christian city, from the lower, Jewish ghetto.

We then made our way to Majdanek. I had been here in 2006 and it had strongly affected me. I was worried how I would react this time. They've updated the signs since I was last here, though the main exhibits are still the same. I found the signage far more understandable now. I did very little talking as we walked through the exhibits. It was overcast and there was a light wind. The green grass that covers most of the camp was full of crows. The only sound, besides the wind, was the incessant cawing of the crows. For 2.5 hours we walked silently through the camp, making our way to the crematorium. When I had seen this place in 2006, I completely broke down. Now I was impassive. Perhaps because I anticipated my reaction; perhaps because I was self conscious in front of the students. I could tell that many of them were strongly affected.

We quietly left the camp and returned to the train station. 1 hour and 40 minute wait for the train back to Warsaw. We sat in the cafe, had lattes and cappucinos and talked. I bought a slice of chocolate cream cake that was so dry, the cream filling flaked. We got back to Warsaw aroudn 9:30 pm, and then I joined three of the students for dinner at a pierogi place they found one or two nights ago and really liked. They were good, but by 11 pm I crashed and so we skipped dessert.

Tomorrow is our first "mental health day:" a free day with no assignments. I had originally intended to go to Kazimierz Dolny, but I told the students I can't face 5 more hours on the train. Instead, I will walk with them through the Old City. Several want to see the castle. If it's open, we'll try to go to the palace at Wilanow in the afternoon.

Lodz, again

2011-06-10T13:11:00.000-07:00

I had told the students to meet me at 8 am and we would go get coffee this morning, but I realized we didn't have enough time. Instead, we went across the street to the bakery, where I picked up juice, some croissants and a donut, and they got bread and other stuff. Then it was off to the Warszawa Centralny to buy our tickets to Lodz.

It's always stressful to buy tickets in Poland. I end up saying something like "To Lodz...five tickets?" Then I get back "Blah, blah, blah, 2nd class, blah, blah." So I respond, hoping I understood, "yes." "Blah, blah, five tickets, blah?" "Yes," I say, as a leap of faith, as I watch the total grow and grow as she prints out tickets. "Blah, blah, credit card, blah, blah, blah." I hand her my card and she swipes it. Eventually, I sign, get the card, and then the tickets. Thank God, they're alright.

Except we have five minutes to get to the train platform before the train leaves. I grab the students and we hurry, find an empty compartment and settle in.

The Polish countryside is always beatiful. Today, however, it is also cold. It's actually 13 C outside, for the first time in the entire trip. I had decided against bringing a jacket, but now I was having second thoughts. Too late now.

I didn't tell the students much about Lodz in advance, in terms of how I experienced it before; I didn't want to shade their own feelings about it. We came in at Lodz Fabryczna station and this time there were maps, though the station really does have a scuzzy feel to it. Lots of small stands; not at all like Warsaw. We walked to the main north/south street and saw many of the same, formerly beatiful beaux arts buildings I had seen last time, though some had now been restored. I wanted to find the students coffee, but I had entered the street just above where most of the cafes were, it turned out, so we ended up walking several blocks.

We finally found a rather nice one, sat down, ordered our drinks, and two of the students also got nice looking desserts. After we rested and refreshed we started our walking tour of the remains of the Litzmannstadt Ghetto. We began with the church where the belongings of those murdered in Chelmno were brought back to be sorted through by ghetto residents before being sent to Germany. It looks like they painted the original ghetto border on the sidewalk a few years ago, but that now it's fading. I showed the students pictures of what the ghetto bridges were like and we continued.

When we passed a bakery, I stopped in and picked up some rolls for lunch. Then it was off to the ghetto hospital. This building was mostly in ruins in 2006 (an arson attack badly damaged it), but it's now being renovated. I read the students the description of how the hospital was liquidated on September 1, 1942, and the patients deported to Chelmno. This was followed by the seizure and deportation of all children under 10 and the elderly over 65 a few days later.

After we walked through some streets that were particularly well preserved from the ghetto period, we headed off to Radogoszcz station. The sky looked threatening, and I thought it would rain on us. That was a very long walk, made even more difficult by the fact that my guide book to the Litzmannstadt Ghetto does not contain a complete map of the ghetto, but only shows small, little sections of it. When we finally reached the station, I was horrified to see that the museum was closed on Fridays. We rested for a while, and then I polled the students to see if they wanted to go on to the cemetery. They said yes, so off we walked. Not so far this time, though.

The outcome was the same, however. We got there at 3:25 only to find that on Fridays, it closes at 3pm. A Polish couple from Warsaw came up and pounded on the gate. Eventually the guard came. They spoke with him, but he gruffly responded and closed the door as I kept asking if we could just use the toilets. The Polish couple told me that they had offered him money to let us all in, but that he had refused.

We had no choice now but to return. This time we took the bus and as it was after 4 pm and we really hadn't had a full lunch, I told the students I would treat them to an early dinner at Anatewka, a Jewish-style restaurant in Lodz. I had really liked it the last time, but not so much this time. The goose didn't taste the way I thought it should (more like brisket this time). Very salty. The raspberry panna cotta for dessert was rather bland. It was still better than the cheesecake one student ordered, that was truly bizarre. At least the Zubrowka vodka was as good as it should be. The waitress gave us some little rabbi figurines, each clutching a gold grosz. I'm not sure if it's anti-Semitic (though I highly doubt it was intended as such).

We managed to avoid a few drunks on the street and make our way back to the train station and from there back to Warsaw. We got in around 9pm, and I went back to the cashier to buy our tickets for Lublin. Another round of: "To Lublin. Tomorrow. 9 hour. Five tickets?" I had dropped the students off at a coffee shop first so they could have something nice while waiting and I joined them there. The mall near the train station is clean and has some nice food shops. If only the current construction didn't make it so difficult to get to.

We got back a little while ago. The free computer was taken, as usual, but I bought some time on the pay machine next to it. Now, to try to update some of the earlier entries.

In Warsaw - Updated

2011-06-09T22:46:00.000-07:00

I will try to update the Lidice entry later.

We arrived safe and sound in Warsaw yesterday. The students shared a single room with four couchettes, basically bunk beds, while I had a room with a triple bunk bed in the next door wagon. The room was so small and the bunks so close together that I had to sit on the floor to read. I had debated whether I should have gotten a room with six couchettes and thus make sure we were all together, but I realized later that would have meant that none of us could have sat upright for the 10 hour journey.

We spent an hour at the Bohumin station (from 2-3am) as they decoupled and recoupled the cars. The lights came on, which woke us all up. I thought they would come on to stamp our passports, but they never did. After we got to Poland the rails became much smoother and I slept til morning.

A little excitement getting off the train as not all the students were ready. The conductor gave them a 20 minute notice, and I came by 10 minutes later and told them to get ready, but as we pulled into the station, only two were ready to get off the train. One student had to get off the train in his socks and finish getting dressed on the platform.

We were all hot and sticky from the humidity, and the main train station is under reconstruction, but I finally found the metro, bought us passes, and got to the hotel. Our rooms weren't ready at 9 am (as I knew they wouldn't be), so we headed off to the Museum of the Warsaw 'Rising.

As before, I find this a difficult museum to navigate. On one level, it's marketed to students: the sound effects and Disney-style decor, designed to mimic the terrain of Warsaw during the uprising, lacks a certain decorum. The museum really isn't organized in chronological order, which can make it difficult to follow the events. One wrong turn and you miss key events or read about the consequences before the causes.

Afterwards we headed back to the hotel. I gave the students (and myself) an hour to wash off the sweat and grime of two days and then meet at 1 pm to continue. We went down to see the remnants of the ghetto wall, and then walked from there to a small street of tenements that almost unique in the city, had survived both the ghetto uprising of 1943, and then the city's uprising of 1944. I tried to get to the Nozyk synagogue, but most of it is shielded by fences from construction, and even after we found it, we couldn't get in.

I gave up at that point and we went to the Jewish Historical Institute. I arranged for the students to see the documentary on the ghetto in English, and then we toured the museum. The students seemed strongly affected by it. We all were too tired to do anything else, so I took them back to the hotel and spent the evening making arrangments for tomorrow.

I went to dinner back to the Nu Jazz Bistro where I had eaten years ago, but wasn't pleased. The cold cucumber soup was delicious and the tricolor panini (tomato, mozzarella, avocado) was yummy, but it seems to have declined a bit. Also I found the service slow.

Lidice-Updated

2011-06-08T10:13:00.000-07:00

The free connection shut down a few minutes into my update of this blog. I'm hoping this time works better. I have 14 minutes to type all of the following.

I have very mixed feelings about our hotel in Prague. On the one hand, it's very conveniently located: just 4 minutes walk from the Charles Bridge and the Old Town Square. It has air conditioning in a city where you really need it (and we certainly did). And the breakfast buffet was very nice. On the other hand, I fear it has bed bugs.

The morning after we arrived I noticed a large red welt on my lower shin. It was much larger than a mosquito bite, though thankfully did not itch. I wore socks the next night, but I still found my ankles and lower shins covered in small red spots (which thankfully also did not itch). I asked the students if they were experiencing anything similar and all said yes. I don't think I'll stay here again.

We checked out of the hotel but left our luggage in storage. Our train didn't leave until 8pm that night. We took the subway to the end of the line and then I searched for the bus to Lidice. I went to the bus ticket office, standing a meter behind a man in front of me who smelled as if he and bath water were no longer on speaking terms. The clerk was happy to sell me tickets for the bus, but couldn't explain where to find it. I went stop by stop until I finally found the right one. Unfortunately, they wouldn't accept the tickets I purchased, so I had to buy them again.

Lidice is/was a small town about 30 minutes by bus from Prague. When Reinhard Heydrich, the Nazi Protector of Bohemia and Moravia, was assassinated by Czechs in 1942, the Nazis retaliated by imposing "collective punishment" on Lidice. All the men and boys over 15 were separated from their families and shot. The women were sent to Ravensbruck concentration camp. Of the nearly 100 children in the town, less than a dozen of the youngest were sent to an orphanage. The rest were sent to the Lodz ghetto. There they were allowed to write letters to surviving relatives begging for clothes and food before they were again put on a transport, this time to the extermination camp at Chelmno, where they were all gassed on arrival. The town's church was then dynamited and the rest of the town was burned to the ground.

On the hill overlooking the town's site there is now a museum. We watched a short film on the history of the town before the war and then entered the exhibit on the town's destruction. The letters by the children before they were murdered were particularly heart breaking. The exhibit ends with a long video testimony of surviving children and mothers. Many of the children were adopted by German families and could no longer speak Czech at the end of the war.

From there we walked down to the memorial. The area is amazingly green and quiet. The overall impression is a quiet, tree-lined contemplative space, with many song birds. The first memorial is that of the children who were murdered. Each child has been individually rendered, modeled on a child who was murdered. That also brought several of us to tears. From there, we walked a short distance to the site where the men of the town were shot and buried in a mass grave.

After that we walked up to the top of the hill to catch the bus back to Prague. One of the students bought a kinder egg in the shop and spent the time waiting for the bus by assembling the toy inside. Unfortunately, she didn't care for the toy but no one was willing to take it from her. Eventually, the bus came and we headed back to Prague. The students were free for the rest of the day. One went up to the Castle and the rest just hung around the old town. I went across to Malastrana and ate a late lunch (it was nearly 2 pm when we got back) at Cukrakavalimonada. I really like this cafe. I had the elderflower lemonade and then the pasta primavera (I'm trying to get over my vegetable withdrawal after not eating any in Germany). For dessert, I had a slice of strawberry cheesecake and a large, thick hot chocolate.

I spent the rest of the afternoon just walking about and checking on our travel plans. I met some of the students in the late afternoon and took them to an ice cream parlor for a late snack. Then it was back to the hotel, grab our luggage and then head to the station for our sleeper train to Warsaw. I bought a sandwich for the train (no dining car), and then we boarded. I was in a car with beds, while the students were in the neighboring car in couchettes. For the rest of the train trip, see the next blog entry.

Terezin

2011-06-07T13:53:00.000-07:00

Well, the cool weather was short lived. We went to sleep with the sound of distant thunder and drumming rain, and awoke to blue skies and warm and humid air. After we went outside, though; the rooms were quite cool from the A/C. Too cool, in fact, as I had it set on 17 with a high fan and was too cold.

Breakfast was good and we got an early start for Terezin. No problem at all to get there. After the bus dropped us off we met an elderly Brazilian woman who needed directions. We helped her to the museum. After that we started the tour. I reserved us spaces for both films, so we had to break off to head down to the theater for them. The first was a half hour documentary on Terezin that I bought a few years ago. It's ok, though oddly put together. I found myself falling asleep during the screening (which the students also admitted). The second film, was a short 12 minute piece from 1965 on the Nazi propaganda film shot in the ghetto in 1944. This ended with an El Maleh Rachmamim prayer for victims of the Holocaust that came out of nowhere and brought me to tears.

We went back up and continued the tour silently. Then it was down to the museum cafe for a quick lunch. I thought it safest to get a sandwich but one student decided to be brave and order a hot dog. Once I saw how thick the casing was, I knew I hadn't made a mistake avoiding it. "Why do you think they put so much ketchup on it?" the student asked after the third (to my eyes, at least) loathsome bite. "To make it edible," I answered.

We all decided to endulge in the Magnum ice cream bars to make up for the paucity of lunch. I tried the one labeled "Gold!?" as if it wasn't sure. I wasn't sure what flavor it was but one student figured out that it was caramel.

From the museum we walked to the Madgeburg barracks, where they recreate the way the people were forced to live, cramed six to a three-tiered bunk bed. Most of the exhibits are on art created in the ghetto, and they played excerpts from the children's opera "Brundibar" for us. After that, we walked out of the town to the mortuary and from there to the ghetto cemetery and crematorium. The guard was out so we were able to snap a few pictures and then sit silently in the graveyard.

On our return, we headed out to the small fortress, noting the many graves of Jews who died from the typhus epidemic that broke out just before liberation. Over a 1000 died after Soviet troops arrived. Inside, one of the staff offered to give us a guided tour of the prison, so we walked from cell to cell. We saw the cell the Gavrilo Princip (the 17 year-old who started WWI by shooting Prince Franz Ferdinand) was in for 2 years. We also saw the fake washroom the Nazis created to fool the Red Cross. The water lines were never connected.

There's a 500 m passageway through the walls to the place of execution. I led the students there and it was pleasantly cool out of the sun. The guide met us at the end and showed where people were shot. As before, I saw the concrete outline of three crosses on the ground and said that I thought it was meant to evoke the crucifixion at Golgotha. The guide corrected me and explained that there were originally four crosses and they date from before the Nazi period. They were used to position the men's arms during target practice. The fourth was torn down to allow tourists to pass by. I thanked her for disabusing me of an erroneous idea before I embarrassed myself by making the argument to colleagues.

When we got back to the bus stop, we met a couple heading back to Prague. They said they were from Newfoundland, and I asked if they knew one of my colleagues, who was from Newfoundland. Turns out she was my colleague's French teacher. We explained to the students all about "Jewish geography."

On the ride back, I talked with some of the students about the theological problems raised by the Holocaust, and in no time at all we were back in Prague. The Canadian couple were heading off to the Alt-Neu Shul for second day Shavuot services, so I wished them a hag sameach, while we went off to get our train tickets to Warsaw. The four students will share a room with four couchettes, while I will have a room with three beds. I'm still not sure if I have the room to myself. The good news is that I've saved $50 off my budget so I can treat the students to at least one dinner in Warsaw.

I wanted to show the students one of my favorite bizarre statues in Prague: the one of King Wenceslas riding a dead, upside down horse. By then it was nearing 7 pm, so I asked them if they wanted any advice on where to go for dinner. In the end, we walked to the Municipal House cafe, one of the most beautiful ones in Prague. The guide book describes it as "an art nouveau orgy." The outdoor tables were all filled so we ate indoors. The only problem is all the beautiful ornate lamps and chandeliers can make the room heat up. We found a large table by the window.

I've made fun of Czech food as "beige," but two of the students really wanted to try it. They had the goulasch with bread dumplings, while I and another student had the spinach strudel. To be honest, it was much more like spanakopita than strudel, but it was good and filling. I ordered the beef broth starter and it looked and tasted like Campbell's. The place does shine with its desserts and the Forest Fruit Torte was yummy, with lots of red and black currants, raspberries, and even a blueberry or two.

I told the students about some of my experiences with roommates, including my very first roommate who was the head of the "salt of the earth club" at UCLA. When I described the "Wanted" poster for Jesus that greeted my parents and I when I moved in, first one then two students doubled over with laughter. Turns out he thought I meant a "Wanted: Dead or Alive' poster.

Tomorrow we have to check out in the morning before we head to Lidice. The students have the afternoon free (I think they're going to Prague castle) and then we come back to pick up our luggage before our train. I like the hotel, but my only problem is that it turns out there's a nightclub in the back. We don't hear any noise from them, but it's still disconcerting to turn into the hallway leading to our hotel and see giant neon signs advertising lap dances.

The Humidity Broke

2011-06-06T13:28:00.000-07:00

Despite the humidity, I slept all the way through the night, I was so tired. This morning, we packed up and went to Zoo Station, but I was soaked before I arrived. The train to Prague was warm and humid. No a/c, just a little breeze from the fan.

The hotel turned out to be nicer than I expected. We have A/C in the rooms, and the furnishings look nice (I'll let you know how comfortable the bed is in the morning). We had no time to eat lunch though, as I needed to get the students to the Jewish Museum well before sunset. We started off at the Pinkas synagogue, and as we walked through the old Jewish cemetery, it started to thunder and then large rain drops began. We went into the Jewish burial society building and I pointed out the cycle of paintings depicting the society's work as the rain fell harder and harder. By the time we left for the Klausen (thankfully only 3 yards away), it was pouring. I used the opportunity to go through the various artifacts in the room.

By the time we were done, the rain had stopped, so it was off to the Alt-Neu Shul and then the Spanish Synagogue. We ended, almost three hours after we started, at the Maisels Synagogue. Our feet were hurting and tired, so I led the students to a coffee shop in the Ungelt behind the Church of Tyn. The iced chocolate was yummy. After we rested I took the students on an orientation tour of Old Town Prague with a little glimpse of Wenceslas Square. After that I decided to treat them for dinner in Malastrana.

They really enjoyed the Charles Bridge, and the rain really dried the air out (as well as cooled it off). They are all taking lots of photos, two of the students have very expensive and complicated cameras. I've asked for copies. When we went to my favorite restaurant it was locked shut. We went instead to Cukrakavalimonade, but it was 7 pm and they were just closing. I let the students take a quick peek at a local garden park in Malastrana, and a few talked about moving here.

Alchemyst's Garden, a middle eastern place was closed due to the weather, so we went to Cafe des Paris. Two of the students ordered soup only, while the other three of us tucked into our first salads in a week, followed by the entrecote steak. I don't remember the bernaise sauce last year having so much tarragon (perhaps I didn't order the sauce). After dinner, several of students ordered nice desserts (not me). I did order the elderflower lemonade, but the one had at Cukrakavalimonade was better. The cafe didn't take credit cards, so it basically wiped out all the kronas I had (I also paid for 15 one-day passes in cash earlier). I looked at my receipt from the exchange I used at the train station and was shocked to see the 17% service fee. I was definitely ripped off. Serves me right for doing it at the train station.

Got back to the hotel at 10 pm, turned on the A/C, and then came down to enter this blog. Tomorrow a treat: hotel breakfast! Then it's off to catch the bus to Terezin.

Busy-Updated

2011-06-04T23:26:00.001-07:00

I´ve been so busy on this trip; I rarely have any time to myself to relax.

In addition to shepherding the students from place to place, making sure that everyone has what they need, and seeing that they learn the material, even when I tell them we´re done for the day, they are reluctant to go off on their own.

Yesterday, we went to Sachsenhausen concentration camp in the morning. That took much longer than I expected. When I went there in 2007, I was staying in East Berlin, which was closer. Now, we had much further to travel. We got the audio guides and that certainly helped, but even spending three hours in the camp felt rushed. Since I was here last, they built a new information center, with a very helpful film about the history of the camp.

We got back to the Oranieburg S bahn station by 2 pm, and I joined the students to help them find a chocolate shop that one had heard about in her German class. Called Fassbender & Rausch, it´s near the Gendarmenmarkt. We eventually found it and went up to the cafe. Most of them had ice coffees and cakes, I had just the iced hot chocolate. That was our lunch. The food was wonderful and they all loved their cakes. The iced chocolate was really a chocolate milk shake, with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup. It was really good.

One of the students really likes this drink called "boba", so I said I would help her find it. We headed back to West Berlin and found her the boba shop she had heard about. Boba is basically a kind of pearl tapioca that´s put at the bottom of a large glass of something cold, clear, and sweet. Virtually everyone in line was under 22, and overwhelmingly female.

From there, it was a short walk to KaDeWe. I wasn´t sure they would let us in if one of us was holding a drink, but the student offered to put it in her camera bag. "Won´t it spill?" I asked. "No, I do this all the time," she answered. "Won´t it melt?" "Boba don´t melt" she quickly answered, a line that the other students quickly picked up.

We headed to the food court and cafeteria and walked around some very expensive dining places. The fruits and vegetables looked wonderful, but forlorn, as almost every was avoiding them like the plague (well, not like the plague, actually the plague). In the toy section, I picked up a large stuffed owl and, to my shock, discovered its curriculum vitae. I will quote from the picture I took of it on my camera:

"His word carries weight. As it should. Doc Nightmare has not only been around the block a few times, he´s also an extremely intelligent owl with a solid academic background. In the early 90s he made a name for himself as a psychoanalyst for traumatized stuffed animals. Having grown tired of all the sad stories he embarked on a new path and became an actor on a ghost train and now travels from village fair to village fair to give kids and grownups a scare --which he finds very amusing! He just missing one thing: YOU!"

The saddest thing though was the nearby bear that dropped out of highschool cost nearly twice as much as the owl with the Ph.D. I don´t think children´s toys need to be so accurate.

I picked up some of my favorite chocolate, and gave a few pieces to the students so they could taste why I think it´s the best in the world.

Afterwards, we headed to Zoo station, where one student went to get her cell phone fixed, while the rest of us hung out in Hugenubel. It´s a large chain bookstore, but we just mostly enjoyed saying the name.

By the time the others got back it was getting late, so we headed across the street to Mövenpick. It´s an expensive, Swiss chain, but it´s also good. Four of us ordered the fresh asparagus soup, and the fifth went with the wild garlic soup. Everyone loved their selections. I got the veal slices in cream sauce for the main course and it was excellent. I wasn´t thrilled when the roast potatoes turned out to be a cross between hash browns and a latke, but it was far better than either (that or when covered in sauce it became edible). All of us are going through vegetable withdrawal.

The weather has been hot, leaning towards humid. Last night was not very pleasant, temp wise.

We got up this morning and headed to Wannsee. I was surprised how quickly we went through the house: in and out in 1.5 hours. The students seemed to get a lot of out of it. Rather than try to rush to the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, I gave them a break. We took the bus back to Wannsee, which was now overrunn with bicyclists. We stopped at a turkish imbiss for lunch. I ordered the turkish pizza, but it wasn´t nearly as good as what I had in Kreuzberg. This tasted like the poured out all the different condiments and then rolled it up. I abandoned it for a börek, but didn´t feel all that hungry any more.

I asked someone why there were so many bicyclists, and it turned to be a big event, where cyclists from all over were planning to converge on Brandenburger Tor. One student cried out in shock when she realized that one group of cyclists was naked. As we quickly walked away, I explained how nudism became quite popular in the communist East Germany. Some people theorize it was a way for people to assert their individuality. The police had arrived and I heard them welcome the riders but then admonish those who were cycling nude. "Das is nicht erwünscht," (I´ve probably mispelled that) I heard them say. That is "this is not desirable." A groan and boos came from the crowd.

We headed back to the city center and three students came with me to the Pergamon, while the fourth (who had arrived early and already gone) went to the DDR museum. We just did the highlights of the museum, but it was still pretty warm, so we all ended up out at the cafe. We met the fourth student at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe and then went down in to see the information center. I´ve been here several times and we discussed the victim-centered approach the museum takes.

After that we walked across the street to the see the memorial to gay men killed or persecuted by the Nazis. It started to rain (one student surprised us all by packing an umbrella). In a lull, they ran over and looked at it. The exterior evokes the Jewish memorial, but the window only shows a video of two men kissing. We discussed the decisions and ideas behind such a memorial conception, but the rain really began to come down. We ran into a nearby cafe to take shelter. After a nice slice of raspberry cheese torte, I decided to leave the students on their own and try to make the Komische Oper showing of "La Perichole." I bought a ticket and then an apple cider and listened to the tail end of the preshow talk.

I had a lot of problems getting the subtitles to show up on the chair in front of me (I had to bend over in my seat to see them). With the heat and humidity in the theater, I suddenly felt very tired, and began to doze off. I decided to leave at the intermission. Good idea as I was so tired I had a panic attack on the metro when I thought I had lost my back pack. It was still on my back.

I headed to the Hauptbahnhof and bought our train tickets to Prague for tomorrow. By bumping up our numbers to six, I qualified for a group discount (even with the extra unneeded ticket, it was still cheaper). I´m heading back now to pack for tomorrow. We leave the hotel at 8am.

Warm and Sunny

2011-06-04T13:28:00.001-07:00

We have had very good weather here in Berlin. The days have been warm and sunny.

I don`t have much time, other to say we went to Sachsenhausen in the morning and stayed til nearly 2. After that we headed for the Gendarmenmarkt to visit a chocolate shop one of the students had heard a lot about. We all enjoyed it very much.

Afterwards, we browsed the food courts at KaDeWe and ended up having a very enjoyable dinner at Mövenpick. Four of us got the Spargelsuppe and loved it; the fifth got the Bärlauchsuppe and loved it.

Tomorrow, we´re off to Wannsee.

Getting an Overview

2011-06-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

When I realized the curtains in my room were sheer, I went out and bought an eye mask at the pharmacy at Zoo Station, near the hotel. It takes a bit of getting used to, but I slept ok. The area around the hotel is a little noisy, but my ear plugs filtered most of it out. Some of the students were not as lucky and told me about partiers they heard on the street. I did hear the beer bottle break around 7:30, though.

Feeling rested after a good 8.5 hours of sleep, I made breakfast (scrambled eggs, yoghurt, rolls with butter, tea with milk and sugar, and black currant juice), I went downstairs at 9:30 am to meet the students. I figured that they would definitely benefit from sleeping in.

Our first stop was the Topography of Terror museum. This is one of the places I`ve not been before. The last time I was there, it was just a series of open-air display cases, but the new museum opened a year ago. They do a good job of explaining how the SS worked in the complicated bureaucracy that was Nazi Germany. After about two hours we left, so the fragment of the Berlin Wall just north of the museum, and then headed over to Kreuzberg for lunch. I suggested the Turkish pizza place I went to last year.

I seem to have taught my students a "bad habit;" they now are photographing all their meals. Three of us got the turkish garlic sausage pizza, while the other two got the vegetarian ones. One student tried a date soda; I stuck to Cola light. Outside we got a kick of how the cafe billed itself as both "koscher" and "halal." How do you have kosher sausage pizza???

From there it was a short walk to the Jewish Museum. This is really an exploded museum turned inside out. It was important for my memorial students to see it as it was really path breaking in its architectural approach. For the Holocaust student it gave them a good overview of Jewish culture in Germany. In the garden of exile, we ran into an Israel tour group, and I enjoyed chatting with them in Hebrew (which is really much better than my German).

This was our last "work outing" for the day. It was nearly 4, so we headed over to the Cafe Einstein Stammhaus (the original location) and sat in the garden. The students all ordered versions of ice coffee (with ice cream) or ice cappuccino (without). I stuck with cafe au lait. It came with separate pitchers of hot milk and hot coffee, so I could mix them to the strength I preferred. I thought about getting the raspberry mini torte, but ended up getting the strawberry torte (though I forgot to get the whip cream). We sat out there for over an hour and half, getting our strength back after all the walking.

We headed back towards Zoo Station, so one student could find a replacement lens for her camera. That turned out to be more complicated than we thought and we didn't get back to the hotel until after 7:30. Only one student was interested in going with me to dinner, so we headed to Vapiano. Mistake! I had eaten there 5 years ago and thought it was fine. Basically you order your pasta dish, drinks, they enter it on your card, and you pay at the register after you've eaten on your way out. We got there a little after 8, but the line moved VERY slowly. So slowly that we were still standing in it waiting for our food after 45 minutes. No meal is worth standing 45 minutes in line for.

We walked about five blocks down the Ku'damm and found a half-priced internet cafe, where I typed this up. I'm getting ready to crash. Tomorrow morning, I'm getting them up a little earlier and we're heading up to Sachsenhausen. I'm going to try to find a bus, rather than walk the 20 minutes from the station, but I don't think there is one.

Safe and Sound in Berlin

2011-06-02T10:51:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a very long day, but I'm safe and sound in Berlin.

I met up with three of the students at LAX and it turned out that none of them had had a full night's sleep. I don't think any of them slept for more than an hour on the red eye flight to Berlin. I took Ambien the night before the flight so I got 6 hours sleep. I took another on the plane and slept for nearly 4, so I was feeling pretty good today.

The hotel is in West Berlin and we were able to check into our rooms early. After a quick shower and change we started on our walk. After a so-so lunch at Cafe Hardenberg, opposite the university, we headed off to East Berlin.

Our first stop was the Oranieburgerstraße synagogue, and from there to the Koppenplatz memorial. This is a very moving one that consists of just a slightly oversized table with two chairs, one of which has been knocked over.

We then made our way to Alexanderplatz and started our long walk. I'm really too tired to go into details. We did stop for a nice coffee and cake at Cafe Einstein on Unter den Linden. One of the students is looking for a telephone card, but it turned out today was a Lutheran holiday (Ascention Day -- who knew? Not me) and all the stores were closed. As it happens I found one this evening after I went out for dinner, so I will tell her about it tomorrow.

We walked all the way down Unter den Linden to the Brandenburg Gate, then south to the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. I wanted the students to experience it without any prior readings or study. We will go back on Sunday afternoon and I want to see if there impressions of it change.

We made it back to the hotel around 6, after stopping off at the grocery store for breakfast supplies (our rooms have a small kitchenette and fridge). I figured after spending nearly 48 hours with me, the students needed a break, so I´m eating alone tonight. I´m also letting them sleep in; we don´t meet until 9:30 am tomorrow morning. Except I need to do a walk-up knock at 8 am for one room that doesn´t have an alarm clock.

My Bags Are Packed....

2011-05-31T16:52:00.000-07:00

I'm excited about leaving tomorrow for Europe. Kind of scared to be taking students with me this time. Hoping that I will be able to make regular updates. Next stop: Berlin!

Photos - Caesarea

2011-01-18T20:56:00.000-08:00

This is the last batch of photos from our trip.

On our way back from the Galilee, we stopped in Caesarea and had lunch in the harbor:

From there we walked through the Hippodrome

to the Amphitheater:

to the Roman procurator's palace:

Above the Hippodrome, they're excavating a series of buildings, many with mosaic floors:

Beyond the Roman city lie the Crusader-era ramparts:

Beyond that lies the fruit juice stand:

And beyond that lies the Mediterranean:

Photos - Galilee

2011-01-17T10:52:00.001-08:00

We started our tour of the Galilee with the ancient synagogue at Beit Alpha (6th Century, CE):

The binding of Isaac:

The ark and menora:

Scenic Bet She'an:

They actually have a spectacular archaeological dig, but we didn't have time to visit it this trip.

From there we drove up to the Crusader castle of Belvoir, above the Jordan Valley:

The moat:

Inside the fortress:

We spent the night at the Pastoral Inn at Kibbutz Kfar Blum.

The breakfast buffet at the kibbutz restaurant:

Where the kibbutznikim live:

Photos - Ein Gedi and the Dead Sea

2011-01-16T20:55:00.001-08:00

We stayed for two nights at the Kibbutz Ein Gedi Guesthouse and Spa.

Our rooms:

They had a concert on the lawn Friday night:

The Ein Gedi Spa is 2 kilometers away. When it was built in the late 1970s or early 1980s, it was on the shore, but the Dead Sea shore has retreated. It reminds me of the spas in Budapest.

The spa has several sections. Indoors are the sulfur pools, with the heaviest mineral water on earth. I snapped a quick shot in the men's locker room of the entrance to them.

Outside, there is a fresh water pool and further down are the mud pits. A shuttle now takes guests to the Dead Sea beach. In the far distance is Kibbutz Ein Gedi.

There's also a lobby area where people can relax:

The Kibbutz is located in the Judean desert, above the Dead Sea and near the Ein Gedi nature preserve.

We had rare rain, so you can make out a rainbow over the Dead Sea:

Inside Ein Gedi National Park, you can see a shafan (aka a "rock hyrax"):

They live in trees and rocks

There are also lots of Nubian ibexes:

We walked as far as the lowest of the David Falls:

Dad and I walked up a bit further to the middle falls.

I then crossed over and went back down a different path:

We drove from there to an ancient synagogue (2nd-3rd Century, CE):

Note the list of donors:

The main sanctuary:

The bimah:

Unfortunately, our visit to the synagogue led to our getting a "puncture" in a tire, which necessitated a visit to the kibbutz repair garage:

The kibbutz looked particularly lovely at sunrise:

Photos - Jerusalem

2011-01-16T08:19:00.001-08:00

I didn't take any photos of our hotel in Jerusalem (Dan Boutique - Hebron Road), but here are the views from the 3rd floor patio.

Looking west, toward the German Colony and Emek Refaim:

Looking north, toward the Old City

We explored various parts of the city, beginning with the Old City.

We drove up to the Jaffa Gate, past the Cinemateque:

By the Tower of David:

The Zion Gate:

Big cauliflowers:

The newly rebuilt Hurvah Synagogue:

A bakery in the Jewish Quarter:

The Cardo

A home in the Mixed Quarter, where someone had gone on the Hajj:

The "Broad Wall" built by King Hezekiah in 720 BCE to defend Jerusalem against the Assyrians:

The Herodian Mansions Museum in the Jewish Quarter. These are the remains of about six rich mansions occupied by priestly families during the Second Temple Period. They were burned by the Romans when they captured the Upper City on the 8th of Elul, 70 CE.

A mikveh in the basement:

Decorated rooms on the ground floor:

Wall frescoes, some showing traces from the fire:

From there we walked to the Western Wall of the Temple Mount.

The Women's section:

the Men's section:

From there we walked through the Mixed and Muslim Quarters to the Damascus Gate:

A model of Jerusalem at the time of King Herod on display at the Israel Museum:

We came back to the Old City on another day and toured the southern wall excavations. It was Thursday morning, prime bar mitzvah time:

The Herodian street at the base of the Western Wall:

The entrance to a mikveh at the base of one of the stair cases leading to the Temple Mount:

The Huldah Gates on the southern wall (double gates to exit, triple gates to enter):

The Ummayad Palace beneath the Al Aqsa Mosque:

Looking from the Ottoman walls south towards Abu Tor:

The City of David Excavations:

Silwan:

We also explored parts of the New City of Jerusalem, including the nineteenth-century neighborhood of Nahalat Shiva:

We also went to the German Colony:

The Greek Colony (aka Emek Refaim):

The subject of my dissertation:

My old apartment in Emek Refaim

My old cafe (formerly Aroma):

My old vegetable market:

One afternoon, I went to Yad Vashem. I got off the bus on Mt. Herzl by the Calder statue and started walking. In a few months, there will be a light rail stop here.

On the way back, I walked through the newly restored Mamilla Mall:

The mall runs to the base of the Jaffa Gate.

The first night, the hotel recommended the Colony restaurant on the edge of the German Colony:

The second night, we went to Rossini's, an Italian restaurant in the Christian Quarter of the Old City.

The third night, we went to Shanty, in Nahalat Shivah:

We all enjoyed our lunch at Caffit in Emek Refaim, near the Greek Colony: