Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 448

Traveling in Sin is a Passionate, Enthusiastic, Real-life Travel Memoir!

Thank you to Jonny Blair of Don’t Stop Living for the fantastic review of our memoir, Traveling in Sin.

From his review:

Both Lisa and George are members of the Traveler’s Century Club. That means they have both been to over 100 countries!! I’d say they’re travel experts and well versed to give you an insight into their travelling lives. Traveling in Sin is a 286 page e-Book documenting their journey, it takes them through an emphatic range of places like Borneo, French Polynesia, New Zealand, China and Mongolia.

There are a load of twists along the way as they also tell their personal story of how they met, how they shared their love of travel and how, somewhere along the way there’s a marriage proposal…

It’s also an immaculate love story within, including private e-mail messages the couple sent each other to begin with, the decision to take 11 months out to see the world together, the falling in love on the road story…

For me, the best thing about Traveling in Sin is the way it’s written. It’s a passionate, enthusiastic, real-life travel memoir. The joint authorship gives it that gender splitting edge. They are telling their travel story the way it is, the way any traveller should. I write a diary of my journey and always have done, even to this day I make handwritten travel notes and then convert the best of them to this travel blog.

Whether you’re a seasoned backpacker, a high end traveller, a holiday maker or someone who just loves a real life travel and love story, get downloading this book! It will make a great read on your next journey and you may be suitably inspired.

READ THE FULL REVIEW: CLICK HERE
BUY THE BOOK on Amazon.com

WATCH: The Video Book Trailer for Traveling in Sin

Traveling in Sin is a TOP TEN Hot New Release! from Lisa Niver Rajna

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America: Home Healed Home After Hurricane Sandy

Sometimes there really is no place like home.

Following a tumultuous week of evacuation and anxiety, we were on our way home.

The bridge to our island opened at dawn. Traffic reports indicated long lines of cars slowly snaking across the causeway. Impatiently waiting until early afternoon to venture back home, we sighed in relief approaching the bridge, noting no long lines or flashing lights.

Concrete barriers spanning the road prevented cars from driving further than the first traffic light into town. We parked the car and walked the last few blocks.

No one stopped us. It was eerily quiet, but we observed nascent signs of activity. People walked tentatively to their destination, eager yet apprehensive about what they would find. A couple of bike riders passed, and a few business owners were hard at work clearing debris from their property.

And there it was, sitting serenely, our cottage, beckoning us to enter, find comfort, and mend the damage.

Mulch and debris, scattered all over the driveway, sidewalk and flowerbeds, blew around in the light wind. Inside the garage the garbage can had been knocked over and the contents strewn everywhere. Bikes, garden supplies, beach chairs, sand toys and other paraphernalia had fallen, collided, and settled awkwardly across the still wet concrete floor. The backyard was messy, but a few hours of manual labor would restore the area.

Unlocking the front door and stepping inside, the house was cold and quiet, with nothing disturbed. A small puddle remained on the second step of the ground-level laundry room, indicating how close the water came to flooding the rest of the house.

Our town officially reopened at 4:00 p.m. We walked back to the car and waited in a long line of vehicles inching their way to the checkpoint, flashing IDs and finally being allowed to drive home.

Our house had no heat, no hot water, no air conditioner (but who cared in November), and the washer and dryer were kaput. Insulation in the crawl space under the house and electrical wires needed replacement. But the house was intact and dry and belongings safe.

Before cocooning for the evening we strolled to a local deli and bought sandwiches for our first post-storm meal at home. The store reopened just in time to welcome residents returning to the neighborhood. Offering a limited menu, the owner was thankful to be back in business and heartily welcomed customers, each briefly recounting their personal and unfolding Hurricane Sandy story.

Tired of being vagabonds and road warriors, we looked forward to time spent in couch potato mode. The weather was turning cold, the days shorter, and the storm had blown whatever leaves remained off the trees and ruined any flowers lingering on plants. Winter gray descended.

Yet we were relieved to sleep in our own beds, feast our eyes on unharmed belongings, and begin repairs. We can manage remarkably well without most material possessions, but they are nice to own and we feel an emptiness when special items are lost or destroyed.

We are people on the go, not in the least hesitant to lock our door and spend hours driving to visit family or flying somewhere, whether for business or pleasure. It is ideal, however, to relax, hang out in our own home and savor warm, cozy, safe surroundings before heading out again.

Sharing with family and friends is a step towards normalcy and moving forward. We prepared Thanksgiving dinner, the house still without heat and hot water, space heaters and candles supplying warmth. Family members drove to the Jersey shore from Vermont, Pennsylvania, and New York to enjoy a turkey and tofurkey dinner together.

With repairs completed and spring on the horizon, we hosted a wine and cheese tasting for friends, thankful for our personal rock – our home – in a world often chaotic and crazy.

About the Author: I am a freelance writer and blogger enjoying a new flextime career after fifteen years in the financial field. I love the freedom of writing about anything that interests me, including and especially travel and food. Check out my blog Six Decades and Counting.

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New Jersey Hero among Us: Dr. Jonathan Reisman

Dr. Jonathan Reisman is a New Jersey hero among us. He is personally saving lives and changing communities on our planet. For the last ten years, he has been able to combine his love of travel with his gift of helping people, which is what convinced him to go to medical school.

Currently, he is working on a project to protect mothers after childbirth in an area with the highest maternal mortality in India. In the past, he studied nuclear pollution from nuclear weapons factories in the Southern Ural Region, and even visited the city of Chelyabinsk where meteor fragments rained down from the sky. He conducted a project with the CDC to learn why Alaska Native children have high rates of respiratory infection, and found that lack of running water and household crowding may play a role. He even created his own 501c3, WHEN, as a medical student to help move Indian society toward solving some of its long-standing problems.

As a medical student, Jonathan spent over seven months in India (as well as one month in Belize) working for various charities, including Calcutta Rescue (CR) in Kolkata and saw a tremendous need for better healthcare. He saw the need to speak Hindi in order to communicate with his patients, fellow physicians and for his travels around the giant sub-continent. The most challenging aspect of his international medical work is trying to make changes in healthcare systems that are very set in their ways. People are difficult to motivate. Still, over the years he has been working in India he sees incremental progress occurring. It is clear that bridges are being built and more lives can be saved.

Jonathan did not come from a family of travelers, but first got hooked while working in in Russia after college. He visited the country five times over three years, traveling extensively throughout the country, including many isolated villages where people claimed he was the first American to ever enter these places. He learned Russian and was able to work as a translator for other tourists and visiting sociologists within six months of arriving.

He worked on several projects, including a study of the international environmental movement and it’s impact on the timber industry since the end of the Soviet Union. He also studied nuclear pollution from nuclear weapons factories in the Southern Ural Region, and even visited the city of Chelyabinsk where meteor fragments received rained down from the sky. He also received a grant for independent research from the US State Department to study native culture in Siberia and the Russian Far East. For this project, he spent five months on the Kamchatka Peninsula in eastern Russia, traveling from village to village and talking to people about culture and history. He participated in indigenous subsistence activities including salmon fishing, gathering berries and mushrooms and seal hunting with natives.

Jonathan did not move much as a kid: “I love traveling as it gives new perspective on how varied human life and culture is and at the same time how similar all people are.” He lives for those moving experiences during travel when he really connected with people living in such different circumstances from his own. He was impressed by how rugged, and still how hospitable people in Siberia were.

It was while traveling in Kamchatka, Russia that he realized that becoming a doctor would give him the skills to help people living in isolated and under-served areas. Immediately after returning home from Kamchatka he enrolled in post-baccalaureate science classes and started studying for the MCAT to apply to medical school.

Since going to medical school he has combined his interests in travel with projects to improve health in those out of the way places he came to love while traveling. He is especially interested in subsistence lifestyles of people of the far north. In 2012, he traveled to Alaska to work with the CDC to study a bacteria that lives inside people’s noses and commonly causes pneumonia and meningitis. He conducted a project with the CDC to learn why Alaska Native children have high rates of infection, and found that lack of running water and household crowding may play a role. A paper based on this research is currently being submitted for publication.

Jonathan learned Hindi from books and by talking to people throughout India. This is the same way he learned Russian. He says an insatiable drive to learn helps, and every conversation becomes a lesson. The hardest part is not the written language, even though it is quite different from English in both Russian and Hindi, but rather just understanding where one word ends and the next begins when listening to native speakers talk. People in Russia say that “I speak Russian like a peasant, probably because I spent so much time in rural and hinterland areas, speaking with hunters, farmers and people of the land. In India it is so gratifying to speak Hindi with people because they meet very few westerners who learn the language. When I speak to people in a village in Hindi, I see their eyes light up with surprise at this white man speaking Hindi. You do not need to learn Hindi because English is so widespread, but when you get off the beaten tourist trail, really learning about people’s lives requires Hindi, or another of India’s many languages.”

Jonathan’s daily life in Lucknow, India is working in an office, sitting at a computer and frequently visiting hospitals in rural regions around Lucknow, speaking with doctors, nurses and midwives to figure out the barriers to making childbirth safer. He talks to government officials about the project, to find out why it’s not working, troubleshooting, and seeks experts in the field of behavior change and public health care in India. When he has time he also travels for pleasure, and recently enjoyed camel trekking in Rajasthan.

Jonathan advises travelers to always pack a basic pharmacy. In India, he always brings earplugs. When coming home from India he always empirically treats himself for the most common parasites just in case one took a ride home with him.

His most memorable moment while traveling was in Varanasi as a medical student.

I took a sitar lesson on a whim and ended up in a house where the family had been making sitars for several generations. They showed me sitars that were over 100 years old with ivory inlay. The lesson ended with a big family jam of guitars and sitars that was just so much fun. I left that lesson with the glow and serenity that only comes with those moving experiences of travel.

Jonathan has numerous hobbies including playing music (guitar and piano), gardening, crafts including wood and leather working, winter mountaineering, hiking and camping. He also teaches classes in wild edible plant identification, wild plant and mushroom tours with medical significance, and wilderness survival.

He started WHEN as soon as he returned to America after volunteering with Calcutta Rescue (CR) as a medical student:

I was so impressed with that organization as they are providing high-quality, evidence based healthcare to people living on the city’s streets and in slums, which is a very difficult population that is mobile and hard to follow up on. Still they keep incredible documentation of all patient interactions, which is something rarely seen in non-profits in the developing world. They also run several schools for street children, run occupational training workshops, install arsenic filters in rural West Bengal, and run clinics throughout the city. I was so impressed with their work that I decided to start a support group for them. WHEN has since expanded to taking on its own projects while still supporting CR with funds, volunteers, and strategy. One of WHEN’s current projects is helping to foster a greater interest in public health research among Indian medical professionals. There is currently inadequate education on public health issues in India, which are myriad, and Indian doctors to do come out of school with the mindset or the tools to help solve these issues.

WHEN offers grants to Indian researchers who wish to design their own projects but cannot compete for the meager funding offered by institutions in India. WHEN is also the American focal point for a growing network of doctors, residents, medical students, and public health experts helping to foster greater access to the international medical literature for Indian medical trainees in the hopes that most home-grown public health research from within India will help move the society toward solving some of its long-standing problems.

Dr. Reisman is a true American hero working to save and change lives. It was an honor to meet him in India.

This article first appeared in the Huffington Post Impact section.

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Antigua, Guatemala: We’re all Handicapped

In the spring of 2012 I was blessed with the opportunity to go with my school to Antigua, Guatemala to serve the schools, orphanages, and community. After much fundraising and hard work with my team, we went on our way to this beautiful city. It was as if I had gone back in time. The cobblestone streets, the ruins everywhere you look that have been standing for hundreds of years, untouched. These buildings emanate culture, history, and overwhelming beauty. There was always a smile in my heart. The love and appreciation that was welling up inside of me for this culture and place was weighty and abundant. As I walked those streets I left bits of my heart in many places.

Every sunset burst with light and life. Every human I encountered was unique and beautiful. Every building was big and strange with many steps, caves, and magnificent rooftops. There was color and sound everywhere. My senses were heightened. I noticed and enjoyed every detail. I sucked in all the experience and culture I could while I was there. Every morning was spent singing songs with my friend Allison as we walked along the old streets, covered in footsteps. Every place had a story, so many stories, in every building, on every street, in every soul.

I encountered many different humans. I saw and understood something different about life each time I touched someone’s hand or looked into someone’s eyes. It was as though everything was speaking the “Language of the World” that “The Alchemist” speaks of. This “language” is wordless but loud. It speaks directly to the soul and things are understood deep inside of you. You can’t explain them but you just know. At the end of each day I had dirt on my feet and life in my heart.

Along with traveling throughout the city serving the community and schools, there was one thing we were able to do that will never flee from my heart and mind; I won’t let it. Each day of the week we were there we visited a local orphanage called “Hermano Pedro” for a few hours. On the outside, the building was old, grand, yellow, and beautiful. On the inside, there was hurt, pain, and parentless children. But, in every dark place, there is always some kind of hope. This wasn’t just a normal orphanage. This was an orphanage for handicapped children. Although all were handicapped, I never saw a more diverse group of people. Some children were playing, some couldn’t move, some laughed with us, some didn’t have the ability to respond in any way, some were lively, and some were near death.

When I first walked in and looked around, my heart was aching. The pain was emotional and physical. I felt heaviness inside of me for the brokenness in this world. I swallowed any fears I had and went to meet with some children. The heaviness was still there throughout the entire visit but what seemed like something so wrong and broken, was really great beauty and life; life like I have never encountered before. I sat with a little girl for a while. She stared blankly at the wall and never spoke. I didn’t care. I pushed her chair to the middle of the courtyard and sang to her. I placed small flowers throughout the dirty braid in her hair. About thirty minutes went by and she never responded or made a sound. I decided to put her chair back where it was and leave her be. As I parked her chair she began to cry and scream. She squeezed my hand with all her strength, begging me to stay. A light went on inside of me and as I looked into her eyes, I saw her soul. What I saw was her, the real her, her essence. I was in awe. I couldn’t speak. I could only stare, in that moment. I felt united with her, connected to her. It was a tacit conversation. This little girl, God’s beautiful creation, I realized, is a human being, just like me. Although I couldn’t see her expression of gratitude, as she squeezed my hand, I felt her emotions flow from her beautiful soul.

Yes, this little girl is handicapped. Yes, she can’t walk or talk. But, none of that makes her less of a human than I. In reality, we are all handicapped. We all have something that seems broken, messed up, or wrong. Her handicap is just seen on the outside. Regardless of her outward “hindrances” this little girl is a human with worth and purpose. God made no mistake. He uses her to express light and beauty in a way that is uncommon and strange but so compelling and noticeable. I sat with her and looked at her, in awe of the beauty of this human, this soul. Antigua is filled with many magnificent and beautiful things but I think the people are the most beautiful and awe-inspiring of it all. I am grateful for this diverse world with diverse people, who each have a soul and a story.

About the Author: My name is Bridgett Cockrell and I am a senior in high school. I have a desire for travel, a passion for different cultures, and a deep love for people. Travel has always been one of the most important things to me. I love to encounter a people and culture that transcends and expands my experience and knowledge of this world.

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Nepal: Bless You Yoko – Bye Bye Babu

I am up in Katunje in the Himalaya Mountains of Nepal. It is a tiny mountain village that I have written about previously.

Many times.

The noise of little children arriving at the school downstairs awakened me early. There was a lot of giggles and laughing. It was 5.30am and the sun had yet to rise. I rubbed sleep from my eyes and stretched as I stood and I reached around for the light string and pulled it and I found my pile of clothes. We didn’t have any lights here two years ago – or hot water – and now the school and Visitor Centre is fully energized and green.

It is Carbon Negative.

We use the wind and the sun.

My visit to Katunje is a short one and the primary purpose is to service the solar panels and the hot water service and to install a solar fridge. The photovoltaic cells have copped a battering during the monsoon season. Photovoltaic is just a fancy name for solar. The solar fridge wasn’t much of an installation actually – we just took it off the truck, hauled it up the steep and narrow track to the school and I plugged it into the battery unit. Nursing it three hundred kilometers and hauling it to the Visitors Centre was the hardest bit.

It is humming already and my bottles of water are chilling.

So am I – humming and chilling.

It is very nice to be back in the Himalaya.

My friend Babu drove me to Katunje from Kathmandu and he will drive me back again. He is a Driver by profession and he has driven me around before. I trust his knowledge of the winding and sometimes precarious track that is the last and most difficult leg from Dhading up into the village and I enjoy his company. One of Babu’s daughters lives in Katunje so he likes driving up there with me.

Katunje. Say it Kar-tuon-jay.

There are only two types of tracks up high mountain passes – those that zig and zag and are cut into the faces of steep inclines – or the winding type that wrap their way up in long spiraling circles.

They are both slow and dizzying journeys.

Babu has six children and thirteen grandchildren and he has been a Driver for more than fifty years. He is a gentle and kind man of the Ghurka people. Babu is very softly spoken and he has a sun-hardened face with chocolate brown eyes that are shrouded in wrinkles – but they also twinkle and shine in mischief. His whole face is wrinkling and twinkling and he has an excellent name. I like both writing it and saying it.

Babu.

Say it Barboo.

It is one of those names that would resonate very well if you yelled into an echoing valley.

Baaaaaarbbooooooooo.

Babu has lots of stories and on our long drives I cajole them out of him and I tell him a few of my own. We converse easily and with great humour and respect and insight.

I always sit up the front in the car with Babu. He has told me on several occasions that most people prefer to sit in the back and I told him that I am no back seat passenger. I told him that I sometimes get a bit car sick winding up the mountains – which is true – however I sit up the front mainly so I can chat to him more easily and without him having to turn around to look at me and us ending up driving off a cliff and plunging to our deaths.

I wouldn’t want that.

Nor would my mum.

On a previous road trip to Katunje – a journey that can take more than ten hours from Kathmandu if the roads are bad – and they often are – I asked Babu who was the most famous person he had ever driven. With some protracted probing he humbly mentioned that he had driven some foreign dignitaries in his time and he named some Bollywood actors that I had never heard of. He also told me that he used to regularly drive one of the Nepali Princes. Not the one that shot most of his family to death at a birthday lunch twelve years ago – but one who was fatally shot by him.

They were cousins.

Then Babu quietly slipped in the fact that he had once driven a British musician named John Lennon and his Japanese girlfriend around for a week a long time ago.

After recovering a little from the shock I asked Babu whether I had heard him correctly and he replied that he could not tell what I had heard for my ears were my own. I thought that was very wise. Babu often says wise and insightful shit like that.

Then he repeated that he had once driven a British musician named John Lennon and his Japanese girlfriend around for a week a long time ago. I asked him if he was serious and he told me that he was.

We were in standstill traffic in downtown Kathmandu at the time and he leaned into the glove box of the car and he rummaged through it. It was full to the brim. He eventually pulled out a stained and yellowing envelope inside of which was a tattered black and white photograph. It was of him with John Lennon and Yoko Ono. The photo was taken in front of his car and the backdrop was the vista of the Himalaya – seen from the Nagarkot lookout. John and Yoko had their arms around Babu in a genuine and affectionate sort of a way and all three were smiling in the shot.

When the noise of the children awakened me this morning I got straight up. I was swaddled and tangled in yak blankets and I had slept like the dead. I always do in the mountains. I pulled on some jeans and a tee shirt and I slipped my thongs on my feet then I eased my way carefully down the steep external stairs.

I could smell the masala tea before my feet touched the ground and it’s alluring odour pulled me towards the little kitchen. Teacher was there boiling a huge pot of water for noodles and some creamy masala tea was steeping in a big clay pot.

Teacher squealed when she saw me and we hugged. I may have had a little squeal myself. Teacher is tiny and gentle and lovely and it has been many months since I last saw her and the children of Katunje.

Before too long the kitchen was crowded with more than a dozen excited mountain children and there were many Namaste’s and much hugging and laughing. We moved outside before too long and I sat down on the little stone perimeter wall that snakes it’s way around the tiny grounds of the school and Teacher bought me out a steaming cup of masala tea. She barked her way through the crowd of children that surrounded me with stern commands in Nepali.

I chatted with the children and Teacher and Babu as the sun came up over the mountains and for a while it’s rays washed everything in a dazzling orange. The sight momentarily spellbound me – as it always does – while the children chatted on as if it was nothing. For a moment it was like one of those movie dream sequences when all the chatter becomes background noise and I was washed in the visual splendor of the then and now. Background music of the Vienna Boy’s choir singing “Hallelujah” would have been a quite appropriate soundtrack. I looked at the crowd of laughing children and teacher and Babu and I realized that this was everyday for them.

Fancy that.

Babu told me that a Sherpa named Tenzing Dorjee took the photograph of him with John Lennon and Yoko with Yoko Ono’s camera and she sent it to him care of the Kathmandu Guest House. Babu told me that he didn’t receive it until early in 1981 and on the back of the photo was faint black writing that said “To Babu with love and Thanks – Yoko & John – March 1981”. An obsessed and criminally insane man named Mark Chapman shot Lennon outside of the Dakota apartment complex in New York on the 8th December 1980 – so Yoko Ono must have sent it to him after John had been killed.

Despite her own grief and loss she was very considerate to Babu and I thought that was very kind of her.

Bless you Yoko.

I was surfing on a break called Winkipop at a beach named Bells in Australia when news of the assassination of John Lennon broke. I remember being told about it by one of my mates when I came out of the water. I couldn’t believe it.

I was shocked.

It was one of those “Where were you when?” moments in history. I remember where I was and what I was doing. It is a memory captured and imprinted.

It is indelible.

A ‘break’ in the surfing context in which I have used it is a spot where deep water hits shallow water or a reef and a wave is formed. A Melbourne Plumber and surfer called Bill Keenan gave the Winkipop break its name in the 1940’s.

He made the word up.

I have stood in exactly the same place where the photograph of Babu and John and Yoko was taken. Three times I have watched the sunrise from that vantage point – as the massive southern part of the Himalaya range comes into view at the break of dawn. On a clear day you can see for hundred of kilometers down the Himalaya range that stretch from Dhaulagiri in the west all the way to Everest – and then beyond to Kanchenjuna in the East.

It is a view of the highest place on the earth.

It is stunning.

Babu told me that John Lennon and Yoko had spent much of their time in Nepal in a village called Sankhu – which is to the north of Kathmandu. He told me that he drove them to specifically visit a tiny statue in a Hindu temple that is on a hillside just out of the Sankhu. Babu told me that the statue is of the Tantric goddess named Bajra Yogini. When I asked Babu if there was anything significant about the statue or goddess he informed me that Bajra Yogini is a sex goddess who is worshipped by both Hindus and Buddhists – and that she has no eyes.

He said that there was a festival once a year where priests put in a pair of silver eyes in the statue – and he took John and Yoko specifically to see that.

John Lennon wrote and recorded a song he called ‘Nobody Told Me’ that included the line ‘a little yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu’. The song was written and recorded in 1980.

It is believed that Lennon probably got his reference for the ‘little yellow idol’ from poem ‘The Green Eye of the Yellow God’ which was written by the English Poet J Milton Hayes.

Lennon liked poetry and it is widely known that he was widely read. Or is it that he was widely read and it is widely known?

Both stand true.

The ‘J’ in J Milton Hayes stands for John – but he is always referred to as J Milton Hayes.

I am sure that his mum called him John though – and perhaps even Johhny.

John Milton Hayes penned the line ‘There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu’ in his poem ‘The Green Eye of the Yellow God’ – and for reasons only John Lennon knows he replaced Milton’s words ‘one-eyed’ with ‘little’. Actually perhaps Yoko also knows and she should at least be asked the question.

‘The Green Eye of the Yellow God’ is one of Milton’s more famous works that was written one and a half centuries before Lennon penned his lyrics.

It is believed that both John’s are describing the same thing – the sex goddess Bajra Yogini.

I spent the morning pottering around the Visitor Centre and school doing some maintenance on the building and the solar systems. After lunch of a very fiery soup accompanied by coconut water drunk straight from the cracked nut I sat in one of the two classrooms and did some teaching. Actually it would be unflattering to teachers to call it teaching really as all I did was sit around and talk to the dozens of kids who were squeezed into the room. I showed them lots of pictures and we talked about a whole heap of things but mostly it was discussions about oceans. The mountain village children love to talk about oceans.

Me too.

Few Nepali have ever or will ever see the sea. It is a landlocked and mountainous country that is drenched in poverty and drained of opportunity. The Maoist party grabbed political power here more than three decades ago in a violent and bloody conflict that cost tens of thousands of Nepali lives. Ten years ago the mad Prince of Nepal took an automatic gun to a family lunch and he decimated the Monarchy.

The recent history of the country has been bloody but there hasn’t been any violence of any significance for more than a decade.

The Nepalese have decided to give Peace a chance.

All Nepali children dream of the ocean and they have a great interest too in ships and waves and all things nautical. The village girls love mermaids and the boys seem to like pirates.

I quite like pirates and mermaids myself.

I know of this interest in the ocean because I have talked at length to the children about it before. It is their conversation of choice. On this visit I made a particular effort and gathered together and brought with me many pictures of seascapes and photos of me and my family swimming and surfing and snorkeling and out sailing on boats.

Visual images.

I tried to explain surfing and scuba diving and snorkeling to the Nepali children and it was not easy. The children told me that I was young and better looking when I was a boy than I am now and I laughed and I said that I agreed. They asked me lots of questions and some of them were hard – like what was the difference between a sea and an ocean and what was the noise that a wave made when it crashed to shore?

They asked me if I had ever seen whales and dolphins and sharks when I was swimming and surfing and I told them that I had. I told them that swimming with the whales was a particularly magical moment for me and I explained that these huge gentle creatures also sing beautiful and haunting songs. A few of the little village girls told me that they thought that this was beautiful and I told them that I thought it was beautiful too.

I told them that you don’t get to hear whale song very often and it is one hell of a tune.

The children left to walk back to their family’s farms late in the afternoon and here I am now sitting in a sagging and battered armchair on the creaky verandah at the Village Centre.

I am writing this.

The sun will be going down soon.

Babu is downstairs cooking some noodles that we will eat for our dinner with some cauliflower and pickled mango that one of the local farmers bought us.

We are driving back to the city tomorrow and will be making an early start. Then I have only a couple of days left in Kathmandu before I have to say bye bye to Babu and then fly back to Singapore and reality.

I don’t want to leave.

About the Author: Peter Hepenstall: Peter is an Australian currently living in Singapore. He discovered Nepal and the Himalaya – and the beauty of the Nepalese people three years ago and he keeps going back. Peter writes prolifically and is entranced by the places he goes and the people that he meets.

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Indian Rock Garden: A Peerless Creation in Chadigarh

Being a frequent traveler and lover of serene nature, I have visited a number of exotic and beautiful places; enjoyed company of warm hearted people and watched speechlessly their hard work to survive, even today. But I never thought, even in my dreams that a park in a busy city will make me spellbound. The Park, made of debris is an example of will-power and the level of art created from those so called rubbishes shows intelligence of the creator. No word will be enough to show my reverence to the creator and creation.

Mid of August, me and my family, we had visited Chandigarh during our way back from Amritsar – the internationally famous place for golden temple. As we had three to four hours to spend there in Chandigarh, a visit to the Neck Chand’s garden, more famously known as Rock garden, was decided. The creator of this garden Mr. Neck Chand Saini was a road inspector of Chandigarh. Chandigarh, is the capital of two states Punjab and Haryana, and was officially re-planned and rebuild after independence of India.

We reached car parking at around 3pm. It was a typical hot and humid day. Staying outside was uncomfortable. But we had no better alternative, so moved towards the entry.

After collecting tickets, of nominal price, from the ‘wolf den’ like window we entered into the garden through a low roof entry gate made of stones. And wow, an incredible ambiance welcomed us. We suddenly got encompassed by deep green trees, stony walls and a tranquil environment. It was wonderful as well as thrilling. Sculptures made of stones were there on both sides of the trail. In childhood days, we often took part in competitions of making decorative handicrafts using thrown-away articles. But to make a 49000 square meter garden of models and dolls using just waste materials is really unbelievable. Mr. Nek Chand who made it possible did his creative works during off time only. He collected urban and industrial wastes and garbage from demolition sites of the under construction city and put them together to make models and dolls. From dumped glaze tiles to broken ceramic holders nothing was neglected and even damaged glass bangles were also collected and recycled for creativity. Really, nothing is useless if we have the intelligence and will power to use it.

After a few meters of walk from the entrance, we reached a mud hut which was the studio of the creator. The journey was not easy for him. He spent several years in making these surprising collections secretly in that hidden hut. Secret because the canyon in this forest was declared as reserved land, no construction was allowed there. Mr. Saini successfully kept his project hidden for long 18 years. In 1975 it was found out by the Government and was decided to be demolished. But huge public support stopped destruction of this brilliant construction and the place became open for all in 1976.

Listening to the story, while walking through a wonder land took me back to the history. The complete trail has been planned very proficiently. The narrow lanes through high stony walls offered an unknown dreadful excitement. Sitting in middle of such a lonely ravine, I really could not imagine how one kept on creating sculptures all alone without being afraid.

Now the place is well maintained. And moreover tourists are beaming all over the place. Still passing the empty caves, listening to the whispering air and walking through mystical light and shade games, was daunting for me. Mr Saini had proved that hunger of creation can overcome all obstacles and defeat all adversaries.

Large number of sculptures – different types of animals standing in rows, peacocks roaming on stone walls, workers waiting silently maintaining lines, performing folk band group as we see in marriage ceremony in rural areas and so on, were created and placed over the entire area. Statues made of broken bangles were sparkling under the sun. The use of old cold drink bottles’ cap, the decoration of statues ornamented by wasted potteries was marvelous. It was a brilliant collection of sculptures where not a single one was influenced by anything other than creator’s thought. And the way they were placed in groups, was not only unique but was also a symbol of harmony. The inimitable thinking of creator made the park gorgeous and attractive to everybody.

After more than an hour walk we reached near the exit. A beautifully organized team of sculptures waited there to bid us goodbye.

After coming out of the park, my concept on beauty was modified, my definition of creativity and intelligence had changed. I was overwhelmed by that knowledge enriched trip. I felt I had just completed a good book full of originality and inspirations.

About the Author: Soumi Ray – a PhD student of Indian Institute of Technology, Roorkee. I love to explore unknown and less-known beautiful places, to do hike in Himalaya and to share the stories with all. I write in my blog- http://soumizdiary.blogspot.in/. Blog is written in English as well as in Bengali, my mother tongue.

Basic information:

Location details—

Place: Chandigarh, India.

Latitude: 30044’14N

Longitude: 76047’14E

Altitude: 304-365 meters

Date of Visit: 14th Aug. 2013

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Indiana: The Ancient Splendor and Magic of Turkey Run Hollow

The Ancient Splendor and Magic of Turkey Run Hollow

(Turkey Run State Park, Marshall, Indiana, United States)

By Sana Szewczyk

It’s peaceful in the deep

Cathedral where you cannot breathe

No need to pray, no need to speak

Now I am under all…

-Florence and the Machine, Never Let Me Go

My fingers slowly trace every coarse crevice and sharp edge as I close my eyes to feel the foliage embedded in the stratospheres of cool sandstone. I immediately surrender to my other senses as I breathe in the smell of early summer: fresh damp ferns, budding trees, blooming wild flowers, the moist rock, soft wet earth under my feet, and fresh rain water dripping from the edges of the gorge. The experience is mystical as I stand in awe of the ancient canyon, a place like no other that has not changed its microclimate since its origin in Pleistocene era. An Echo lives in the moss-covered canyon and turns every sound of the forest of magnificent walnut and sycamore trees above into thousands of whispers carried by the wind. The voices of my husband, Justin, and my two children, Maxwell and Makenzie, also echo off the canyon’s walls as we hold the children’s hands tightly to help them jump over puddles, fallen trees, and up onto the rocks along the path.

I slowly open my eyes to marvel at the view spreading in front of me as I gaze into Turkey Run Hollow. I look fifty feet up to the rim of the canyon and see small pieces of thistledown floating down and reflecting the sun beams which are forbidden from entering the cool bottom of the ravine. I admire the mossy walls of the gorge which at times are so close that I am almost able to stretch my arms and touch them on each side. The canyon is iridescent with all shades of green: tea green, teal, emerald, feldgrau, jade, and malachite. I look even higher up and I can see a bridge suspended high above my head. I, a freshly converted “creek stomping” worshipper, surrender to the breathtaking beauty of this natural Cathedral where time stopped millions of years ago. I just spread my arms wide and dance, moving on and on through the canyon repeating a simple prayer, an expression of awe mixed with laughter, over and over to my family: “My God, my God…Do you see it?! Do you see it?! I did not know there was such a place in Indiana.”

The canyon leads us to a small sandy beach along Sugar Creek where the outlets of several glacier shaped gorges meet. We climb up the steps of raw rock disturbing the peace of only one large toad hidden deep in his burrow on our way up. The construction of the steps reminds me of the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu. We arrive at Sunset Point which overlooks the river and groups of college kids in colorful kayaks and canoes calling one another. We continue on to a wooden cabin, Lieber Cabin, which is located behind the Turkey Run Inn. As we walk along the ground surrounding the hotel we notice chairs on the lawn in the shade of pine trees decorated with wild flowers, ready and awaiting a wedding ceremony. Some people find love here, and I found my home. Many times I question my decision to move from Poland to Indiana and very few places have felt like home to me in my new country until now. I look at the faces of my small children, their eyes widened with wonder, and I already know that this is a place that has deeply touched my heart, a place I will come back to when searching for peace and everlasting gratitude.

About the Author: Sana Szewczyk, a native of Poland, earned a bachelor’s degree in English Literature and Linguistics from Indiana University and MBA in Human Resources Management from Indiana Institute of Technology. Her stories have appeared in over sixty publications. Her first collection of stories, “Under a Ginkgo Tree & Other Stories,” was released in February 2012. She lives in Indiana with her husband and two children. For more information visit: www.sanaszewczyk.webs.com

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Making Waves on the Waterways of Europe

A tour of Europe with a twist: on it’s rivers and canals.

Pam Brophy, via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

The thought of a European river cruise tour never really crossed my mind before, but it looks like an incredible way to see Europe from a different perspective. The first image that came to mind of a boat tour was of old, narrow boats and cramped quarters but it’s actually far from the truth. Most tours have luxurious boats that are more like floating hotels than boats. With some even offering silver service! That’s a bit out of my league, but there are plenty of options when it comes to touring around on the waterways of Europe.

Exploring the waterways of Europe are a super way to experience countries and catch a spot of relaxation at the same time. The slow pace of cruising is perfect for families, large groups or anyone looking for a more slow paced way of traveling.

The majority of tour companies seem to offer the all in one solution, even sometimes including flights. Usually, food is included and perhaps some drinks. Then there’s also the DIY option where you just rent a boat for around 6 people and you crew it yourself. As with most things, there’s options for everyone and everyone in-between.

 

Here’s a few top destinations in Europe perfect for a boat cruise :

 

Germany

 

A trip down the Danube is a highlight of any trip to Germany. The Danube has it’s source in the Black Forest, west of Munich. It flows through Germany into Austria and further into Hungary, Slovakia, Romania before joining the Black Sea. It takes in no less than 4 capital cities.

The longest river in the EU makes for one of the great European cruises. A 14 day trip from Budapest to Bavaria in Western Germany, taking in Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna and the smaller towns along the way, is an incredible experience.

 

By Hgmichna, via Wikimedia Commons

 

By High Contrast, via Wikimedia Commons

 

The Netherlands

 

Probably the country most famous for it’s waterways, the Netherlands has an abundance of canals and waterways to explore. I’d have to say, exploring the rivers through the Netherlands countryside looks like heaven. You will pass through quaint villages, gorgeous landscapes and into stunning cities.

Not to mention, the city famous for it’s canals, Amsterdam is a fantastic stop. check out the Rjiksmuseum – one of the best art museums in the world. A trip to Anne Franks house is also a recommended afternoon.

By Steve Collis, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Austria

The river Danube also flows through Vienna, a beautiful city full of old architecture and character. The top visits here are the Schonbrunn palace, the Vienna Opera house where if you’re lucky enough to get a ticket, you can experience world class classical music in an incredible setting.

By Hans Peter Schaefer, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Hungary

Budapest is fast becoming one of Europe’s most popular tourist destinations. Benefiting from cheap flights courtesy of Ryanair, it’s never been easier to visit Eastern Europe. Take a walk up to Buda Castle for a great view over the city. Better yet, do a walking tour of the castle hill district to learn more about the history of the castle and surrounding area. Definitely try out a thermal bath, one of Budapests treasures. It is one of the only cities in the world with an abundance of thermal springs underneath.

By Lepeltier.ludovic, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Whichever route or country you take, if you’re looking for a relaxing break, a boat cruise around Europe will be right up your street.

Have you been on a cruise on the waterways of Europe? Share your comments below!

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English Corner: Shenzhen’s Undiscovered Gem

A Place That Inspires Awe: English Corner: Shenzhen’s Undiscovered Gem

by Armand Diab

If you’re a foreigner in Shenzhen, China, you’re probably not as unique as you think you are. I mean, sure, Westerners in certain parts of China stick out like a sore thumb, and are often victims of being stared at by the curious locals, but downtown Shenzhen is a booming, busy and modern metropolis, and at times it even resembles New York in the diversity of people it houses. There are parts of the city that are completely swamped with foreigners of all kinds – mostly Europeans and Americans – and in those areas English language is as common as Mandarin or Cantonese.

It’s up to you, the average traveler, to pick and choose your spots, and therefore get as much of an experience out of your trip as you can. You can choose the typical sights that attract many a tourist in this city, such as Window of the World, or you can be a bit more adventurous, and visit a small, safe and educational underground event. If you should aim towards the latter, your choices will be few, but there is one place in particular that’s unknown to many who visit here, and it has a uniqueness all its own: the English Corner.

Shenzhen is home to several English Corners, and the best way to a particularly notable Corner is to take the Luobao train (on the subway map it’s listed as the “green” line) and get off at the Grand Theater stop in downtown. Follow the cement trail in the nearby park as it curves to the left, and soon you’ll find yourself in an area with numerous people, both Chinese and foreign, who are there for one purpose and one purpose only: to meet new friends using English as their common ground.

The first thing you will hear are the voices of Ivy and Eric, the English Corner founders and organizers. They will typically be giving a large English lesson to a group of people consisting of middle school students, college students and even middle aged men and women. Eric is often wearing a microphone headset, and each syllable he delivers echoes across the area through the large stereo speaker he brings there every week. Ivy’s voice is equally dominating, except she is usually microphone free, choosing instead to let her vocal chords carry each sentence or song rhyme to her listeners on their own. The effect is still one and the same: Ivy and Eric (who are both Chinese) love the English language, and they’ve made it their goal to share it with others during these social activities out of pure joy.

The diversity of people who attend the English Corner, which is held every Saturday from 5 to 7pm, is as great and as varied as a meal during a typical Chinese dinner. You may find yourself discussing the uniqueness of American food back in the States with a Chinese college student who has never been outside of his home country, or try to explain to a local woman why she is able to understand your English as you converse with her, but is unable to understand a single word when watching a Hollywood movie, where all the actors talk very fast. Or you may run into a middle-aged Russian writer who, having lived in the States for many years, is now wandering the world in search of new inspiration for his craft, and who has chosen the far East as his personal muse. Either way, no matter who you end up talking to, you’re bound to learn something new about someone’s culture, their perspective on their travel experience or possibly even exchange some life lessons with your new friends, in this unlikeliest of places.

The glorious Shenzhen backdrop of high rises and (often) clear skies illuminates this area until sundown, when in a customary fashion, everyone goes out to dinner together. Led by Ivy and Eric, who started the English corner movement a few years ago, and who possess just the kind of energy and enthusiasm needed for this endeavor, you may end up at a traditional Chinese restaurant (typically with a fantastic menu), or a mix of western and local food combined, depending on the week. The dinner you have that night may be good, it may be even be great, but the company you eat it with will be enough to humble even the most boastful of Westerners. Besides, food comes and goes, but the new, exciting people you can meet while travelling to Shenzhen will leave you with valuable memories for the rest of your life, and there is no better place for it than the English Corner.

About the Author: Armand Diab is a 35 year old former Corporate Video production freelancer who graduated from Columbia College Chicago in 2002 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Film & Video Production. He is currently teaching English in Shenzhen, China. He will be there until the end of June 2014.

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Guatemala: The River Cave Expedition

The River Cave Expedition is the first of series of expeditions we went on together with our friends, the Friendship crew and the Czechs, on the north and west shores of Lago Izabal, Guatemala’s biggest lake where we sailed together for two weeks.

The members of the River Cave Expedition include four adults, one teenager, and four kids. Josef and Katchka 4 (s/v Blizzard); Daeli, Noial 10, and Lovam 5 (s/v Friendship); and Ivo, Mira, Viktor 16, and Maya 10 (s/v Fata Morgana). Total of nine people.

We start at the Agua Caliente waterfall going up river. There is no other path but the riverbed. In the beginning it is wide and shallow surrounded by lush jungle vegetation. But soon it gets narrower and the water becomes deeper and faster, cutting a deep canyon through the mountain’s grey rocks. An awe-inspiring view.

Some places are difficult and dangerous to pass; we help the younger kids climb big boulders and swim across deeper waters. Josef has to carry Katchka most of the time. At least, she is not complaining. Lovam accepts help very rarely and only if he truly needs it trying to keep up with Maya and Noial who are jumping from rock to rock with great ease leading the expedition.

After a while we get to a small pool of green water where the river suddenly stops, turns towards the eastern wall of the canyon and enters a dark cave. We follow. The water inside the cave is still, deep, and freezing cold. This is the place where the river sleeps. We only have two submergible flashlights for nine people, so we keep one in front and one in back of the group. We swim in the dark cold water getting deeper and deeper into the cave until we don’t see light from the entrance any longer. The world becomes black. Colors never existed here; the sun has no memory of this place. We are blind.

It is a completely new and bizarre feeling swimming in a cave, in total darkness. We hear the tiny sounds of bats above our heads. We are trying to hold on to the wet slippery rock-walls covered with guano. Everything is mysterious. Who knows what thing without eyes is lurking in the waters beneath. Who knows what thing without soul is listening from the cave’s ceiling some 30-40 feet above our heads.

Only if you abandon yourself to the cave and its secrets you will be able to feel and enjoy it. Fear should not enter the river-cave.

Everyone is silent. At places there are big rocks we have to go over one by one helping each other. I am expecting some of the kids to start panicking in the darkness, but it seems they all are truly enjoying the ride, even Katchka, she is so brave! Even Viktor told me later this was his favorite of all expeditions so far.

The silence is filled with the muffled sound of water booming in the distance: an underground waterfall. The roar trapped in the cavern gets louder as we go further and soon we cannot hear each other anymore. We now feel the strong current against us. The waterfall is about fifteen feet tall and the only way to continue would be to climb over it. So we turn back. We now have to go to the beginning, the same way we came.

Exiting the cave is a happy moment. I think of Plato’s caveman and his amazement at the outside world. The trees, the river, the clouds, the rocks. We look at each other and we lough. Wow, what an experience!

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