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Laos |
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The short pieces of string hung like icicles on
the elaborate banana-leaf centerpiece placed in the middle of the floor.
One by one, our hosts would take the strings and perform a blessing ceremony
on each of us. As the strings were waved over our hands, and then tied around
our wrists, the villagers would melodically murmur wishes for our safety
and happiness. After several blessings were firmly in place, the feasting
began, and the lao-lao (distilled rice liquor) began to flow. We recognized
most of the dishes in front of us -rice, chicken, vegetables - but the fish
soup with red ants (which add a lemon flavour) was new for most of us.
Four days earlier we had started our trek through Phu Xang He (Wild Elephant Mountain), a biodiversity conservation area in Southern Laos. The village where we started was typical - surrounded by rice paddies and forests. Several dozen homes formed the nucleus of the village, each a large wooden structure on stilts with a few basic rooms -a kitchen, a bedroom, and a large veranda. The areas under the homes were a buzz of activity - filled with scurrying chickens, roaming piglets, frolicking puppies, and the occasional lazing water buffalo. After spending a night with the villagers we left on our trek through the jungle. Several villagers accompanied us, both to cook for us and share the folklore of the jungle with us. The trek we went on was still in a pilot phase - in fact we were only the second group of foreigners to follow this route and visit the villages where we stayed. The Lao people are easygoing, cheerful, and have a belief that muan (or fun) should be present in all activities. No one better exemplified this than our guides. We spent two nights sleeping under the stars in the jungle. These evenings were filled with folk dancing lessons, singing, laughing and storytelling around a fire. Our group decided to leave the villagers and guides with an "art form" as well, as we raised a stick of bamboo and introduced them to The Limbo. The elders at the village where we spent our last night has specifically requested that we arrive on the last evening of a festival known as "the opening of the rice barn". Our group was welcomed as honoured guests and was invited to break bread (actually scoop rice) with the families of several elders. A procession of drummers, children, and dancing villagers led us from house to house where we received our fill of food and blessings (and lao-lao!). The merry procession finally led to the village's modest wooden temple where monks declared the doors of the rice barn officially open and showered the crowd with rice. The Lao spirit of muan was infectious and people's desire to welcome and help travelers was genuine. Judging by the smiles on people's faces and the laughter in the air, it was difficult to fathom the devastating war that Laos has been a pawn in so recently. From 1964 to 1973 Laos was the battleground for the 'Secret War', a part of the Vietnam War that most of the western world wasn't even made aware of until recently. Both the USA and North Vietnam contravened an accord that recognized the neutrality of Laos. The USA stationed thousands of troops in secret bases in northern Laos, which the Vietnamese weaved large stretches of the infamous Ho Chi Minh trail through the south. For Laos the result was disastrous and has earned it the dubious honour of the most heavily bombed country in the world. All "Rules of Engagement" were ignored - meaning temples, hospitals, and schools were actually targeted instead of being avoided –and defoliants and herbicides were dropped in record quantities - killing all vegetation and completely poisoning water supplies in some areas. By the end of the war two million tonnes of ordinance had been dropped on the country - or over half a tonne for every inhabitant of Laos. Today, despite the threat of unexploded mines and bombs littering the countryside, and despite the horrors of their recent history, the Lao people are still smiling. Tomorrow we'll be taking a boat down the Mekong River into Cambodia - a country with stunning ancient architecture, untouched wilderness, and its own stories of a tortured political past. |
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India |
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We left the Indian Himalayan province of Sikkim
on an overnight bus to Kolkata (formerly Calcutta). Some Bengali fellow travelers
had assured us that the "luxury bus service" was the preferred way to travel
this route. When we saw the bus we cringed. It was literally a tin box on
wheels, blackened by street grime (inside and out) with bars over the windows
– to keep children from falling out - and a wide-eyed driver that looked
like he had just consumed two litres of espresso. Through the dirt we could
make out the word "Rocket" painted onto the sides.
We soon found out that the "luxury service" referred to the fact that the old foam seats reclined, rather that being fixed wooden ones. Our metal "Rocket" rattled down the pot-holed road, swerving every few minutes to avoid gasoline trucks, bicycles, and livestock madly rushing in all directions. Despite the frequent military searches and all the near misses, somehow 12 hours (but only 550 km) later, we made it to Kolkata. Getting around in India was as much a part of the adventure as seeing the sights. We traveled on sleeper trains with college students that seemed to think that WE were the tourist attraction, cycle-rickshaws where we had to get out and walk when we went up hills, and taxis called "Ambassadors" that looked like they were straight out of the 1950s. The city of Varanasi during the festival of Diwali captured the essence of India for us. The sounds, smells, and sights of this place offered us the sort of lesson in religion, social custom, and human nature that no classroom or textbook could match. For Hindus, Varanasi is one of the holiest places on earth, as the sacred Ganges River flows through it. The river is flanked on one side by ghats, or steps that lead to the river. It is on these ghats that an incessant drama of human life, death and piety plays itself out, day and night. As the waters of the Ganges are holy, it is considered auspicious to have ones ashes thrown in the river, after cremation. Two ghats in the city are dedicated solely to cremation, and it is not uncommon to see several pyres burning at any given time. Unfortunately, not all families can afford the wood for the pyre, so some bodies are simply wrapped in cloth and left to float down the slow-moving river. At sunrise the ghats are at their liveliest. Thousands of people bathe in the river every morning, while others come to meditate, pray, or simply do exercises on the giant steps leading to the Ganges. The spirituality and absolute devotion that can be seen in people, as they go through their morning rituals is fascinating. The colour of their dress, the sounds of their chants, and the murmur of their prayers, is mesmerizing. We were lucky enough to be in Varanasi for Diwali, or the festival of lights, which, is one of the biggest celebrations of the year. The whole city partakes in the festivities by launching fireworks, floating candles down the river, and decorating everything (including the animals) with flowers. The various states and territories of India are as diverse as separate countries. Overnight train trips often transported us between regions with completely different languages, religions, attitudes, and ways of life. The southwest coasts of Goa, Karnataka, and Kerala displayed a quieter, gentler India, which went about its business at a far more relaxed pace. It was a perfect place to find an empty beach, hang a hammock, and watch the waves roll in. The town of Kochi, on the Kerala coast made for an interesting stop. Previously colonized by the Portuguese and heavily influenced by other Europeans, the area had a cosmopolitan old-world flavour to it. We were woken up by a Muslim call to prayer, visited an old synagogue, strolled through a Dutch cemetery, and saw the church where Vasco de Gama was originally buried - all in the same day. For meals we would make our way to the Chinese fishing nets, reputedly an import from the time of Genghis Khan. Appearing somewhat like large catapults, they are simply levers that gracefully dip a cone-shaped net into the water to harvest the seafood coming in with the tide. Ordering a meal was as simple as being there as the net came up, pointing at what you wanted, and asking the man at the stall to prepare it to your taste. A uniquely local experience was seeing a portion of a Kathakali, or Keralan story-play. The play is a mime where the story is told through an elaborate sign language coupled with facial expressions. Music sets the tone, and complex, painstaking costumes and make-up define the characters of the play. In the one-hour 'demonstration' performance we were treated to a mere sampling of the art form. True aficionados attend the genuine article - eight to ten hour performances that often last from dusk 'till dawn. Before we left India, our travels took us to the high range tea plantations of Munnar, the former coastal French colony of Pondicherry, and the bustling modern city of Bangalore. Mumbai with its bright lights, and New Delhi with its grand architecture somehow squeezed their way into our itinerary as well. India was exhausting, but never boring. India was extremely poor when it came to money, but unbelievably rich in culture and religion. India meant always being hassled to buy something, but never having to fear being robbed or hurt. India meant observing one billion people, each with a seemingly different language and religion, but also each proudly admitting to be part of the world's biggest and, some would say, most successful, experiment in democracy. |
| Bhutan and Sikkim |
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Sikkim and Bhutan may not be as well known for
mountains as places such as Nepal and Kashmir, but we found these rarely
visited parts of the world no less beautiful, extremely culturally rich,
and relatively untouched by western tourism.
Bhutan is a land-locked mountain kingdom that has only recently emerged from an existence of relative isolation. The country's first and only airport opened in 1983; television and the Internet were simultaneously introduced in 1999. It's easy to see why most world atlases don't show any features or roads covering this tiny country, sandwiched between India and Tibet, just east of Nepal. Bhutan's strong policies of cultural and religious preservation make it the only place in the world where Tibetan Buddhism is officially recognized as a national religion. With a history that is steeped in mythology, the Drukpa Kagyu (or Dragon) lineage of Buddhism is an integral part of the Bhutanese' life. History texts record the arrival of religious leaders on “flaming tigers” just as matter-of-factly as they chronicle encounters with the Portuguese and British. Other little-known facts about this country with one foot in the past and one in the future are:
In his classic novel, “Lost Horizon”, James Hilton invented the name “Shangri-la” to describe a Himalayan valley where people never age. The story tells of a hidden place where people and culture are protected from the influences of the modern world. In the book the high lama (priest) says: “We may expect no mercy, but we may faintly hope for neglect. Here we shall stay with our books and our music and our meditations, conserving the frail elegancies of a dying ago, and seeking such wisdom as men will need when their passions are all spent. We have a heritage to cherish and bequeath. Let us take what pleasure we may until that time comes.” If such a place exists, it is surely in Bhutan. Sikkim, just west of Bhutan, became a state of India twenty-five years ago when its monarchy was dissolved. With Tibet to the north and Nepal to the east, Sikkim is home to many people displaced from these countries. The mixture of Tibetans, Nepalese and Indians, as well as the native Lepchas and Bhutias presents a very interesting mosaic of peoples. Despite the bustle of the bigger cosmopolitan towns, rural life in Sikkim is similar to that in Bhutan. Temples, shrines, prayer flags and sacred lakes can be found throughout the land. The object of our trek in Sikkim was to get as close as we could to the tallest mountains in the world. Five days after leaving our trailhead at Yuksom, we reached Samiti Lake, at 4300m. Higher than any point in the Canadian Rockies, it would be the camp from which we would attempt Gochi-la, a 5000m pass at the foot of Kanchenjunga. At only 200m less than Everest, and only 13m less than K2, Kanchenjunga’s snowy peak impressively towers over the whole of Sikkim. Despite the altitude sickness, snow, and cold, watching the sunrise over the third highest peak on earth looming over us, was breathtaking. Spending a few weeks surrounded by the awesome presence of the tall Himalayan mountains gave us a clear understanding who so much of this region - Tibet, Nepal, Kashmir, and Afghanistan's Hindu Kush - has been a battleground for so many years. It's no surprise that everyone wants to claim the top of the world as their own. |
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Zambia, Malawi, Botswana, Namibia,
South Africa |
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Our African adventure continued as we headed
south from Tanzania - though Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and
Namibia, before ending up in the beautiful city of Cape Town, South Africa.
Leaving Tanzania's famous game parks, we headed for the Island of Zanzibar. There we found empty white-sand beaches and a very interesting, predominantly Muslim culture, heavily influenced by the island's trade with India. It is a great place to swim, relax, and enjoy the beach. From one beach to another, Malawi's massive inland lake felt like an ocean, too. With an economy based on growing tobacco, the massive auctions held in buildings the size of airplane hangars were a sight to behold. On the wall hung a sign that bluntly stated, "Thank you for smoking". After years of neglect, mismanagement, and corruption, Zambia is starting to emerge as an uncrowded and peaceful place to see wildlife. The game drives (and walks) were more raw and adventurous - perhaps what we had expected to find in Kenya. Our camp in South Luangwa National Park was frequented by elephants who would freely walk between our tents. Crossing from Zambia to Zimbabwe we walked over the bridge spanning Victoria Falls. Zimbabwe did not welcome us, as Canadians. At the border Canada was scratched off the 'free visa' list and added to the 'paid visa' list, by hand - apparently in the last few weeks. A clever, but diabolical president (Robert Mugabe) is playing his trump cards in his dying days in office - turning blacks against whites, rigging elections, and systematically starving his people to serve his personal goals. The economy had collapsed; anyone with any degree of economic success is being removed or arrested, while their assets are being distributed to Mugabe's cronies and the masses - in a blatant, but extremely short-sighted attempt to gain popularity. Once heralded as an excellent and safe destination in Africa, Zimbabwe is ripe for a revolution or civil war. In sharp contrast, Botswana is an economic and political success story, with an economy based on diamonds and a currency more stable than the US dollar, Botswana has also figured out how to market its vast wilderness and wildlife areas internationally. It unilaterally raised the prices (and the standards) of all safaris and lodges to the point of making them exclusive. Fewer tourists means less environmental impact, and as such, Botswana attracts visitors looking for a private and unspoiled wildlife experience. We could only afford to stay for one night (in a tent) in the famous Okavango Delta (and even that was over $300 Canadian dollars!). Unlike most rivers that empty into the sea, the Okavango spreads out over a large flat inland delta, teeming with wildlife, before soaking into the sands of the Kalahari Desert. Namibia was, in many ways, the Africa of our dreams. We felt that we had reached one of the last great wildernesses somewhere at the ends of the earth. With an utterly lifeless and desolate coastline, known as the Skeleton Coast, and an interior of vast open spaces dotted with mountains and canyons, it truly felt like the 'old west'. Boasting some of the largest and most picturesque sand dunes in the world, Soussusvlei was stunning. The soft lines sculpted by the orange, red and pink sands, juxtaposed against stark, ancient trees and flat, dry valleys gave the place an eerie, almost unearthly feeling. In South Africa we spent our time in Cape Town – a beautiful city whose setting and climate reminded us of Vancouver. The familiarity of a 'western city' was nice, as we took time to prepare for the next portion of our trip, however it was obvious that socially and politically, South Africa is very much a country in flux. Africa is a place that leaves a deep impression on the mind. Having expected to find a 'dark continent' full of mystery and danger, we're leaving with a clearer understanding of what is an extremely complex and rapidly changing area of the world. It is a continent of extremes: lush jungles next to parched deserts; a handful of near-extinct gorillas one day, millions of wildebeest the next; poverty and starvation contrasted with the wealth of the diamond trade; struggling democracies sharing borders with dictatorships. Makes for interesting travel! |
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Kenya and Tanzania |
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From the jungles of Rwanda and Uganda we headed to
the plains of Kenya and Tanzania's vast national parks.
The image of Africa, in my mind, was always one of grassy rolling plains dotted with the occasional sprawling tree. The silhouettes of giraffe and elephants could be seen against the sky while lions could be heard rustling through the grasses. Going on safari through the game parks made these images come to life. I'm not sure why, but I had envisioned Africa as a much wilder place than we found it to be. Just like Canada, Kenya and Tanzania have developed infrastructures of cities and roads, farms and national parks. Similarly to Canada, wildlife is found all over less inhabited parts of the country, but are greater in number in the protected areas. It was just like driving to Jasper and seeing big-horned sheep on the cliff sides, elk in the valley, and a bear running up the mountain slope, but instead we were seeing lions on the dirt track, wildebeest on the plains, and rhinos at the watering hole. In contrast to Canada, however, the variety, size and sheer numbers of the animals was incredibly impressive. We did the traditional open-topped Land Rover game drives in Tanzania's Ngorongoro Crater along with Kenya's Lake Nakuru National Park and the Masai Mara National Park (the Kenyan half of the Serengeti). In Hell's Gate National Park, near Lake Naivasha in Kenya, we spent the day riding through the park on mountain bikes - a welcome alternative to a noisy truck. Game drives usually mean getting up very early - before the sun comes up - grabbing some food, a warm sleeping bag and piling into a Land Rover. As the morning breaks, bleary-eyed safari-goers drive around looking for bleary-eyed animals that are also just waking up and getting ready for another day. The first animals to be seen are invariably the primates like baboons and vervet monkeys. These animals get quite used to humans and are often lined-up on the side of the road begging for attention. They suffer the same fate as the ground squirrels in Banff - they're cute so unfortunately people feed them. Consequently they come looking for food, sometimes aggressively. (Take note that the size of baboons' canine teeth is about 20 times that of a ground squirrel.) Those who have studied animals know that the males of the species are often much more colourful than the females. One of the more eye-catching features on the otherwise grey-brown vervet monkey is his brilliant blue scrotum. The colour is so unnaturally bright that it is only after a while that you realize the 'blue piece of plastic stuck to that monkey' is really a part of his anatomy. Our visit to the Masai Mara was timed perfectly with the annual northerly migration of the region's 1.5 million wildebeest. A truly awesome spectacle, the rolling hills seem carpeted in these animals as they thunder across the plains. During the migration many are lost to drowning and trampling at the river crossings and we certainly saw more than one carcass that had been taken by a carnivore. Ironically they don't really know their own migration route but simply follow the zebras as they travel north. They sleep in lines, nose to tail, so that if danger strikes, they can simply wake up and start running in the same line. Surprisingly, the wildebeest look much more like donkeys than horses. As proof of this, we learned that every zebra in the film 'Out of Africa' was actually a painted donkey (apparently donkeys make more agreeable extras than zebras). Lions proved to be a little harder to find, but once spotted, were a wonder to observe. We saw a group of females resting in the sun, a male and female feasting on a wildebeest, and another pair mating. The latter act was quite an aggressive one, accomplished with lots of roaring and biting. We also saw the African equivalent of "Gee honey, that would make a great picture if you stood between the Grizzly and her cubs". An unfortunate lion had brought down a wildebeest within several meters of a park road. Immediately, Land Rovers surrounded the scene to watch the feasting. Watching from afar is fine, but some of the insensitive guides drove up within meters of the lion. When he got visibly irritated and walked a short distance away, one truck even pulled between him and his kill. Unfortunately, there are many people who don't know what "responsible tourism" means. The only winner in this case was the shy jackal that quietly feasted on the wildebeest shielded from the hungry lion by the trucks. Elephants, in family groups of 20 or more were not an uncommon sight. They were usually seen munching away at grass, leaves, and bark - of which they consume 250 kg/550 lbs per day. At one point we saw some bull males sparring; another time we were treated to a standoff between pride of lions and a herd of elephants. Elephants have no natural predators but sometimes a hungry lion may try to take a young infant elephant. Spotting one in the herd, these lions were trying for exactly that. We saw how the lions crept up downwind while the elephants positioned themselves in a circle around the baby. The dominant female elephant then trumpeted and charged at the lions several times until they finally moved away. With no predators, elephants naturally die of old age when the last of their six sets of molars fall out and they can no longer eat. Describing each of the over 20 types of animals we saw would bore most of you to tears, so we'll keep it brief. There were giraffes, gingerly stripping leaves off of acacia trees, warthogs running through the grass with their tails straight up in the air, hyenas lumbering along (surprisingly large at 80kg/180 lbs), and the occasional bat-eared fox. The antelopes we saw ranged from the tiny dik-dik (the size of a rabbit), to the bounding impala (covering 10m/30' per bound), to gazelles, Topis and the massive Elands. Occasionally we would see a few black rhinos as they lumbered through the brush looking for foliage to eat. For all the seemingly ferocious animals we saw, we'll leave you with the little known fact that hippos are actually responsible for more human deaths than all other animals in Africa combined. Seemingly placid, hippos are very territorial and can be extremely dangerous. Thankfully we didn't catch anyone saying "Gee honey, that would make a great photo if you just..." |
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Uganda and Rwanda |
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Leaving our family in Ukraine we sailed back to Istanbul.
Our overnight flights from Turkey took us to Egypt and Sudan before landing
us in the bustling city of Nairobi, Kenya.
A massive continent with incredibly complex and varied cultures,
Africa's history unfolds daily. Studying tribal customs, the effects
of European colonialism, modern-day political ambitions and current social
events could consume us for more than a year on its own.We decided to concentrate our African experience on the natural beauty and wildlife. Our first few weeks were focused on finding primates - man's closest living relatives - in the jungles of Africa's central equatorial region. From Nairobi we traveled towards Lake Victoria in Uganda, and subsequently to the mountains of Rwanda. The world's remaining wild mountain gorillas exist in a small area called the Virunga Mountain Range, which straddles the borders of Uganda, Rwanda and Zaire. With a total population estimated at around 600, mountain gorillas are in extreme danger of extinction. Early in the morning we started from the village of Ruhengeri and drove up the mountain slopes to Parc Nacional des Volcans. When the road got too steep we started to hike. The mountains were heavily farmed, even on the steepest slopes, and it became very obvious that the gorillas' threatened status was largely due to habitat loss. The hike was a unique one. Our party of eight was accompanied by trackers, guides, and soldiers armed with machine guns. The further we went into the forest, the more soldiers and trackers joined us, obviously having searched the area to find where the gorillas had moved to, and ensured the area was safe. With several incidents involving the Interahamwe rebels targeting tourists in recent years, the parks have taken serious measures to ensure tourists feel safe - and we did. Our guides suddenly stopped us in the forest after a few hours of hiking and said that we had arrived. The trackers informed us that we were about to walk through the area where the Susa group of gorillas had paused to rest and eat today. The Susa group was the original group studied by Dian Fossey, and documented in her book, "Gorillas in the Mist". What happened next is actually very hard to explain. The level of adrenaline, fear, excitement, and sadness that comes from standing within a few meters of an endangered wild animal that is so massive and powerful - yet so human in its demeanor - simply cannot be conveyed in words. Some in our group instinctually tried to hide behind others, some cried, some simply stared, transfixed - all were affected in different ways. A famous gorilla conservationist, George Scaller, once wrote, "No one who looks into a gorilla's eyes - intelligent, gentle, vulnerable – can remain unchanged, for the gap between ape and human vanishes, (and) we know that the gorilla still lives within us." The next hour was surreal. We walked slowly, as a tight group, through the jungle. Sometimes we'd walk past a gorilla; sometimes they'd walk past us. Quite habituated to humans, their behavior, mostly eating and foraging, changed little in our presence. We saw females with babies, young blackback males, and older silverbacks. Our guides made grunting sounds to calm them, and although we were taught about the submissive pose to take if charged, we never had to use it. Over the course of the hour we saw 16 or the 36 members of the Susa group. Watching and learning about the gorillas' behavior was very interesting. Groups, or families, are usually headed by one or two silverback males. There are strong bonds between individuals in a group and stable family groups of 10-15 will stay together for many years. They spend their days feeding, foraging and resting. Strictly vegetarian, their diet consists of bamboo shoots, thistles, and wild celery. With stomachs similar to humans' the quantity of food they require is phenomenal - this results in a characteristic distended stomach. Females usually only have one baby at a time; the nine-month pregnancy mirrors the development of a human very closely. Although massive (up to 200kg/450lbs), gorillas are placid and serious confrontations are rare. Silverback males will occasionally challenge each other for supremacy, but these are generally limited to shows of strength and vocal disputes. Communication between gorillas is quite advanced and includes facial expressions and gestures, as well as vocal calls such as barks, roars and grunts. Before we know it, our time was up and we made our way back out of the jungle. Looking back on the mountains behind us as we drove away, we could see the small patches of forest we hiked through on the mountain peaks. We marveled at the fascinating encounter we had just had, and wondered whether we, as a species, would let the gorillas survive long enough for our kids to see them. |
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Ukraine 2nd Update |
| Our two weeks in Western Ukraine were
spent visiting family and friends, and seeing places that I, Peter, had
only heard about in stories or read about in books. We took a sleeper train from Kiev in central Ukraine to Lviv, a wonderful old European city of one million in the heart of Western Ukraine. Lviv's classical architecture managed to escape Soviet influence and its designation as an UNESCO heritage site is a testament to the beauty of its narrow tree lined streets and ornate buildings. For a week we stayed in the small town of Sokal, an hour north of Lviv. My Dad's second cousin, Yuli, lives there with his wife Valya and their teenage granddaughter, Lida. Yuli and Valya live in a modest house on the edge of town. As with most Ukrainians, their retirement savings and pensions were wiped out when the Soviet Union collapsed. With the old social programs gone, and no stable government to provide an infrastructure for trade, many people have gone back to the basics of growing their own food. Yuli and Valya's backyard was filled with cherry trees, apple trees, and pear trees, as well as a large vegetable garden, beehives, chickens, and even goats. They kept two larger gardens just outside of town and often visited the public forest to pick berries and mushrooms. It goes without saying that every meal was a treat. Our days in Sokal were busy from morning to night. When we weren't pitching hay, weeding the gardens, or picking cherries, we were getting a personal tour of everything from the regional government offices to the local farm co-operatives. We even toured a resort facility that is trying to adjust to the new reality of having to attract vacationers - in Soviet times people were simply sent, in groups, to "Tour Bases" or "Sanatoriums" where they would rest for a specified period of time. In fact, all enterprises around the country are trying to adjust to the new reality of a competitive economy. Many of the Soviet factories are now closed, as they were constructed with political ideals in mind, instead of economic ones. The synthetics plant in Sokal (built nowhere near the raw materials or the market) served only to bring in Russian plant workers to dilute the strong Ukrainian nationalism in the area. On the family side, we visited Turysk, the town to which my family can trace its roots. We even visited distant cousins that live there today. We then made our way to Ozerani, a tiny village where my great-grandfather had been a priest. We met with some of the oldest people in town who remembered him well and recounted the sad story of how he was murdered during the war after refusing to renounce his faith. Yuli also drove us in his Volynyanka, or Ukrainian Jeep, to the village of Pavlivka, where my grandfather had worked as a forester, before the war.There we found landmarks my Dad remembered as a young boy. In Lviv, I met my friend Oleh... for the first time. Oleh and I started writing to each other about 15 years ago. I've been able to see alot of Ukraine's evolution from a Soviet republic to an independent state, through his eyes. We laughed at the fact that our letters used to take two months to arrive and today we're sending e-mails to each other in matters of seconds. In the past, our letters were read, and sometimes partially blacked-out, by the government! An amazing guide, Oleh showed us historical landmarks, Soviet relics (like the radio towers that jammed all non-Soviet frequencies), and even how to buy the best eggs at the market. Most importantly he helped us understand what Ukrainians our age have been through and where they see their future. Bluntly, he said the economy is very depressed and unemployment is well over 50%. Capitalism hasn't yet brought what they had hoped and the transition is a slow and painful one. He said that social status and wealth are still very much dependent upon "who you know". The incidence of divorce is high, and young families are suffering as they try to cope with the rapid change from traditional family roles to more Western-style ones. We couldn't leave the area without a quick trip to the Carpathian Mountains. Our family was kind enough to take us by train for a day of relaxing in the hills. We rode a funky one-seater chairlift, picked blueberries, and ate perogies. We later swam in a creek under a small waterfall and roasted "Shashlik", or cubed marinated meat, over hot coals. The Carpathians are not incredibly high mountains, and they barely poke above the tree line, but their cultural and natural beauty is quickly making the region Ukraine's first destination for eco-tourism. Growing up in a Canadian-Ukrainian family, I had heard a lot about my grandparents' land. The Ukraine we saw echoed those stories and revealed many others - some good, some not so good - but all proved fascinating and interesting. |
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Ukraine |
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Boarding the cargo ship bound for Ukraine we
had no idea what to expect, from the boat or from the land we were
travelling to.
I, Peter, can trace my family's roots to a relatively small region in Western Ukraine. I have always been interested in seeing the land where my grandparents lived in their youth and my father spent his childhood. The cultural change from Turkey to Ukraine was obvious the minute we boarded the boat in Istanbul. We bought tickets on a ship that mainly carried cargo, but also had quarters for passengers. The majority of the passengers were Ukrainians returning after spending either holidays or time working in Turkey. The first difference was immediately obvious - suddenly there were women again! We had gotten quite used to Muslim culture, which encourages women to wear conservative clothes. Ukrainian women, in contrast, are extremely flashy dressers, and it seems that their motto should be, "the shorter, tighter, and more see-through, the better." We later learned that this was still a cultural backlash to the years of strict control that the Soviets had imposed to curb freedoms. Next were the differences in cuisine; we were served pork for the first time in a month. The Black Sea crossing was fun, with days spent lounging on the deck and evenings spent in the bar, watching the little dance floor come alive. Odessa is a huge port town, and as such, is a base for many large shipping businesses. It struck us that there was a handful of very rich people enjoying upscale establishments that catered only to them. However, the majority of the people was very poor and barely got by. It later became clear that the current political system re-enforces this inequity in Ukraine as a whole. We spent a few days visiting several historic sites including the Ukrainian Naval Museum, and a cave complex where Soviet soldiers fended off the Germans for over four years. Odessa is also a big party town. With many Ukrainians heading to the Black Sea for holidays, the city was alive day and night. One night, we ventured to one of the popular beaches and found the night clubs easily rivaled those in Ibiza. An overnight train took us to the cosmopolitan capital city of Kiev. I had last visited Kiev in 1989 during Soviet control and I could not believe the changes that had taken place. Demolished churches and monasteries had been rebuilt, there were stores everywhere, and people were clearly enjoying life. In 1989 the city had an air of depression - grey, lifeless, long line-ups, unresponsive sales clerks, and no real hope for the future. In the last few months a newly constructed "Independence Square" had been built with massive statues, multimedia screens, an underground shopping mall, and lots of space for people to enjoy their city. Our days in Kiev were quite full; we visited the National Science Museum, the Chernobyl Museum, and several churches and monasteries - including the famous underground 'Caves Monastery'. We also visited a huge open-air museum in the country that displayed architecture from every region of Ukraine. (it reminded us of the Ukrainian Village near Edmonton) We walked up and down the streets where artists sold their wares, relaxed in the beautiful parks that seemed to be around every corner, and even saw an opera with some family friends. Sitting back, drinking a beer in Independence Square, we could see that the country had changed, and that there was a bright future ahead for Ukraine. Ukraine finally gained independence in 1991. The rejoicing that ensued was short-lived, as the country struggled with the task of governing itself. Although democracy was the dream, the reality was that such rapid change hurts. People saw their life-savings eradicated, their jobs disappear, and the social benefits that the Soviet Union had established vanish. Corruption, the hallmark of the Soviet government, is hard to shake. Most people today will freely admit that the politicians are crooks, but they feel powerless. Western Ukraine, the nationalistic and patriotic side of the country sees opportunities for joining the European Union some day and is willing to endure the pain to get there, however slowly. Eastern Ukraine is closely linked to Russia and some politicians from there even call for unification with Russia. Politicians take advantage of the fragmented vote, ruling for themselves, and not for the people. Ukraine has a long way to go on the road to being the powerful nation it can be. As more and more people realize that corrupt governments are not the norm, and as the desire for true self-determination and nationalism grows across the land, things can only get better with each election. For you history buffs... As a land, Ukraine has been a battleground and coveted prize for many of the empires that surrounded it over the ages. The 7th century BC saw the arrival of the Scythians, from Central Asia, on the plains, and Greeks on the Black Sea coast. The ensuing centuries saw the land settled by Sarmatians from the East, Ostrogoths from the West, Huns from Mongolia, Slavs from Europe, and Khazars from where Turkey and Iran are today. The 9th century AD saw the establishment of Kyivan Rus, a powerful state created by the assimilation of Slavic and Scandinavian cultures. Modern day Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine all trace their roots to the ancient state of Kyivan Rus. The state eventually splintered into rival princedoms. Tartars and Turks then took control of a good portion of the land. The famous Ukrainian Cossacks grew out of a group of Ukrainians who were displeased with the Turkish rule and wanted self-government. "Cossack" is actually a Turkish word meaning "outlaw, adventurer, or free person." Cossacks were constantly at war, fighting to keep Ukraine out of Polish, Russian, or Turkish hands. In the 18th century the majority of Ukraine was absorbed under Russian control - this was a pivotal move in the emergence of the Russian Empire, and eventually the Soviet Union. Although during WWI and WWII there were a few glimmers of hope for an independent state, these were squashed by the Soviet Red Army. Ukraine achieved independence in 1991 when the Soviet Union collapsed. |
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Turkey 2nd Update |
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Turkey is often described as two different
countries under a common flag - the westernized 'European' west and the
traditional Kurdish east.
We ventured off the beaten path into the east and found some interesting ancient places, met some wonderfully friendly people and experienced being the anomalous westerners in a traditional Muslim world. During our last few days in central Turkey we contemplated heading further east. Most tourists venture east with organized tours to see the main archeological and cultural sites and then return to the west. We decided to do it on our own. While still in Cappadocia we met Lisa (a girl from Edmonton, of all places!) who was also interested in going east, and we've been travelling with her ever since. Eastern Turkey is home to the Kurdish people, who also live in Iraq and Syria. The area is deeply rooted in traditional Kurdish and Islamic customs. Economic advances such as oil exploration and massive irrigation projects are making the area rich. This brings economic benefits to the region but often challenges the traditional lifestyles, as increased trade comes with many western influences. We stayed in Karadut, a small Kurdish mountain village, near the archeological site of Nemrut Dagi. Our experiences in this area were truly unique. Nemrut Dagi is widely regarded as one of the wonders of the ancient world. The site was constructed by King Antiochus I Epiphanes around 50 BC as a temple and tomb for himself. He ordered an artificial mountain peak of crushed rock to be piled on top of what was already one of the highest peaks in the area. He then ordered massive statues of himself and the gods - such as Zeus and Aries - to be built on either side of the peak. Apparently he was quite immodest and saw the other gods as his relatives and equals. Many tours bring people to the site for sunrise and sunset. We met a Dutch man who was coordinating a restoration effort at the site. He suggested that we visit in the middle of the day; we did, and had the place to ourselves. Our unique adventures in Karadut continued when we were asked if we wanted to visit a Kurdish home and farmstead. One of the local men was taking his two cows to a remote farm for insemination by an apparently renowned bull. We packed into the cab of a truck and rode to the end of a stunning, high valley along a winding and rocky road. As we arrived the whole extended family waited outside and watched as we unloaded the cows and led them to the stable where the bull was waiting. Jen and Lisa were shuttled inside to chat and socialize with the women; it appeared that they weren't allowed to watch the bovine mating ritual. It wasn't long before the young boys started trying to play soccer with me - with a completely deflated flat miniature soccer ball! It was then that I decided that the Kurdish people were ready to be introduced to Ultimate Frisbee. It was I against five little boys whose favourite move seemed to be throwing the disc down the valley to watch me frantically trip as I chased it. Teaching them 'stack' and 'zone' will have to wait until the next trip. Before we left I sat with the men and shared some tea. My guess is that we chatted about the animals, but in fact I understood nothing that was said. I was content to simply watch the sun set over the mountain ridges that surrounded the valley. Our next stop in the east was the pilgrimage town of Sanliurfa (Urfa). The culture was decidedly conservative and an interesting mix of Kurdish, Arabic and Armenian. People journey to Urfa to see the cave reported to be where the patriarch Abraham was born as well as the cave and spring associated with the prophet Job. The town also boasts a beautiful mosque surrounded by pools of sacred carp. People come from far to see and feed the holy fish. Urfa can trace more than 3500 years of history - including occupation by the Hurrites, Pharaohs, Hittites, Assyrians and Macedonians - and that was all BEFORE Roman occupation. We were warmly greeted by all and soon made friends with some people our age. They were happy to show us around and practice their English skills. We drank tea, played chess and shared stories of each other’s cultures. We made a day trip to Harran, a small dusty town only a few kilometers from the Syrian border. Reported to be the oldest continuously inhabited spot on earth and the site of the first Islamic university, Harran today is a scorchingly hot desert town where temperatures easily reach 50C in the summer. To survive in this inhospitable climate the residents have built their homes of mud and stones in the shape of beehives. We visited some of the houses and found them refreshingly cool compared to the sweltering heat outside. Leaving Ufra we headed for the Mediterranean coast. We made stops in the beach town of Kiskalesi and the backpackers' haven around the ruins of Olimpos before sailing for four days aboard a gulet (or traditional Turkish wooden yacht) to Fethiye. Soon we'll be making our way back to Istanbul to set out on our next adventure - sailing across the Black Sea to Ukraine. |
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Turkey |
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Turkey is a country of wonderful food, spectacular
scenery, rich culture, and some of the friendliest people on earth.
So far we've spent our time in the cosmopolitan city of Istanbul and the facinating area of Cappadocia. Istanbul is a city alive with culture, commerce and history. From our base inSultanahmet we visited the covered markets, the Blue Mosque, a hammam, and countless kebap vendors. The people we met made the experience. There was Hassan, the guy our age who already misses Istanbul because he's moving to New York; Mustafa, the restaurant manager who tried to out-do every night's meal with an even grander one the next night; and countless carpet salesmen who try to entice you into their shops with tea and conversation. An overnight bus took us to the region of Cappadocia. From the town of Görme we explored the valleys and underground cities that the area is famous for. The landscapes in the area are phenomenal. Similar to the badlands of Alberta - but on a grand scale - and with a fascinating history. The cones and pinnacles are called fairy chimneys by the locals and are dotted with dwellings used over the centuries - mainly by Christians to escape persecution. They also built massive underground cities for the same reason. Getting here at the beginning of the season was great - it was possible to mountain-bike for hours in the lush valleys full of ancient cliff dwellings without seeing another soul. From here we head east to Turkey's wild frontier, and then south to the Mediterranean coast. Thanks for tuning in! Peter & Jen BONUS: The Turkish Bath (or Hammam) Experience A truly authentic Turkish experience, and one not to be missed during a visit to Turkey, is bathing in a Hammam. Hammams date back hundreds of years and emerged from the Muslim traditions that require the utmost cleanliness. Today hammams are almost an endangered species, as modern plumbing makes its way into many Turkish homes. Finding an authentic one in Istanbul is hard as many have been catering to tourists, and as such, change to meet the tourists' more Western expectations. The Hammam we went to was an older one which was still quite authentic, but knew how to explain the process to tourists. Hammams are strictly separated into men's and women's sides. The small door off the street leads to a large square room with a high ceiling, mostly finished in wood. In the center is a small lounge. Tea is served, usually after the bath, and several people can usually be found there, relaxing after their baths. When you come into the main room you are shown a cubicle/change room. The room has a small cot in it and can be locked. A coarse towel is provided. You are expected to leave all your belongings in the room and exit wrapped only in the coarse towel. An attendant then leads you in through a small door. The Hammam itself is a large domed marble and stone building with several rooms. The first room you pass through is an unheated room, typically used for drying off after the bath. A door leads through to the main heated chamber. Light pours in through the small round windows in the domed ceiling. In the center of the room is a marble slab. Around the perimeter of the room are basins, which can be filled with hot and/or cold water. Beside the basins are marble benches to sit on during the washing. The first stop is the sauna - in a small room to the side. It is much like a sauna anywhere. There you sit and sweat for as long as you wish. I was told to sit as long as I could stand it - to soften the skin for the bath. Once you feel 'soft enough' you exit the sauna and an attendant takes you over to a marble bench and sits you down. He then proceeds to splash you all over with various temperatures of water while scrubbing you with a camel-hair brush (that feels a lot like an SOS pad!) I'm pretty sure I lost much of my tan from Ibiza that day! The next step is the sudsy massage. This is performed on the marble slab in the middle of the room. The marble is warm but obviously very hard, and the massage is somewhat rough, but feels good. The rinsing is next - it comprises of copious amounts of warm water being thrown over you. The attendant then leaves you to wash your own privates and sit in the sauna once more if you wish. As soon as you walk into the cold room attendants wrap you with towels and walk you back to the small change room where you left your clothes. They gesture for you to sleep on the little cot. After a short snooze you can get dressed and leave or have a drink of tea and a smoke in the little lounge area. All in all, the experience is wonderfully relaxing, incredibly unique, and gets two thumbs up from Peter and Jen! |
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Spain |
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Getting used to the pace of the Mediterranian
islands of Ibiza and Formentera was easy.
Crystal blue waters, white sand beaches, and an attitude that is all about relaxing, having fun, and forgetting your cares (and the cold weather) at home. We've spent just over a week here - in Ibiza Town, San Antonio, and on theisland of Formentera. Ibiza is known to different people for different
reasons. It is a popular vacation spot for the British and Germans
who come here for the sun and sandy beaches. It is also the centre
of the European nightclub culture, and a hub of activity for the
electronic music scene that fuels the clubs and cafes.
Each town we visited had its own feel to it - from the old Spanish settlement of Ibiza Town to the decidedly British-oriented town of San Antonio, to the quiet laid-back island of Formentera, favoured by Germans. Our arrival here was timely; the tourist season hasn't quite yet begun - so the crowds haven't yet filled every beach - and the hotels are still affordable. Our first few days on the island were spent in Ibiza Town, the old historical capital. The setting was quite nice, as the newer town has developed around the old walled city set up on a hill. We happened to be here at the time of a medieval festival when local artisans line the streets of the old city with their stands - selling everything from spices and traditional pastries to paintings and crafts to the best Chorizo sausage we've ever tasted! In contrast, San Antonio, on the other side of the island, felt like a British invasion. With everyone speaking British English and "bangers, beans and hash" advertised for breakfast, we felt like we had just stepped into a bad teenage spring-break movie. Nevertheless, we found some gems in this town as well - the highlight of which was sitting on the beach at Cafe del Mar where DJs mix mellow music as the sun sets, timing changes in music to the sun's every move as it passes behind clouds and finally sets. We also went to one of the world-famous clubs called "Es Paradis" for the season's first "Fiesta del Agua" - a night that starts around 2:AM and involves grooving to dance music in what amounts to a giant water fountain. (Needed some sleep after that one!) Formentera was a short ferry ride away from the island of Ibiza. Small in size - perhaps only 15km end to end - Formentera was a quiet place to kick back, relax and drink cervecas on the balcony. The island is surrounded by shallow turquoise waters at one end and massive sea cliffs at the other. Little white houses dot a landscape largely dominated by Mediterranean junipers and pines. The beaches are fantastic and seem to go on forever. The shallow waters were still somewhat cool at this time of year, but nonetheless offered refreshment from the hot sun. Shade is at such a premium that enterprising beach-bar owners charge a rental fee of 4 Euros for each beach chair and then another 4 Euros for the umbrella - for a total of about $20 Canadian! We made our own shelter from a piece of driftwood and a sheet. Our home in Formentera was a small hotel on the sea in a fishing village. The balcony looked over the tiny harbour and was perfectly positioned for sunsets. Our usual transport was by bus, which came infrequently and was quite expensive for the short distances it took us. One day we decided to rent a scooter to see some of the more remote parts of the island. That day we watched the fog rolling over the sea cliffs, had lunch at a beach cafe on Playa de Migjorn - on of the islands many beaches - and hiked around an old lighthouse at the end of a winding one-lane road. Ibiza and Formentera have left us relaxed - and somewhat sunburnt! Today we fly to Amsterdam via London and tomorrow from Amsterdam to Istanbul. Thanks for reading! Look for the next update in a few weeks. Still no pictures of our own - hopefully next time. |
