Laos, tourists and poverty

A little girl aged ten approached me, she came across the river and is soaked. She is truly beautiful and kneels next to me. After her hello (Sabaidi) she asks for money, looks at my stuff and my writings. With her eyes on me she stays with me for a while. With mixed feelings I give her my bottle of water. I don't know if it was a 'right' action. In the meanwhile two other children joined her. They left slowly back through the river.
Laos is showing me new things. Another side of poverty, signs of a typical 'developing country' or should I say underdeveloped or just poor. Leaving the question 'What is development?' aside. Houses are not more then bamboo and some wood. The water wells have signs of World Vision Australia or World Vision Singapore. The only colourful signs in the villages are the boards advertising the support of Germany, Japan or New Zealand for the building of the local schools without windows. Laos has only a few cars, a few roads and no supermarkets or convenient stores. I hitched a white jeep with the European Union sign on it. Some other cool cars have logo's like German Agro Action."Isn't it amazing how simple those people live and they don't seem to be more unhappy then we are." A lonely tourist in his thirties approached me with this sentence while I was strolling the small village and temples across the bamboo bridge in Luang Prabang. I had to pay to cross the bridge. "People are saving to build a beach" an older man managed to explain in English. In the poor old village we find a former 'bomb-dropper'. Many bombs are still around in the jungles of Laos waiting to explode. He is fixing his motorcycle of which parts are sown together many times already. He tells us about the hunger and that also they have to pay to cross the bridge. The beach is another 'tourist-development-thing' just like the side of the river I was standing on before. Luang Prabang is one of those 'tourist traps', marked in Lonely Planet and on Unesco's list of world heritages. To me it is another place in the world that has become a museum instead of a reality and a paradise for travellers who like to find what they left at home. Steak frites, hamburgers, pancakes, bars with western music and internetcafe's. Of course there are some old houses, some nicely renovated, some temples and beautiful sunsets. Those guided by Lonely Planet are surprised to find an ATM which according to the book should not be there. Prices are higher and on the markets you find mostly souvenirs. Oooh I forgot to mention the massage services which are affordable for any traveller. Ed and I did not really like the town. A girl named Pepsi just came to me when I was putting my thoughts in my diary at the riverside in Vang Vieng. She was equally wet as the previous children. She observed my writing upon which I asked her to write down her name. She writes mine as well in those beautiful curly Lao letters. From the paper I gave her she folds an airplane. I realise I wait for the moment she asks for money. Assuming that I recognize her demanding eyes on my bag. But she leaves without asking. Before we arrived to Luang Prabang there was not a single child asking for money. We received plenty of smiles and hundreds of 'Sabaidiii's'. Nevertheless from the first small city we passed in Laos we saw foreigners, mostly travelling with guides in brand new minibuses and eating in the small places that have even menu's in English. Something we never encountered in China's countryside. Also hitching went fine until we arrived in Luang Prabang. An English speaking tuk tuk (small pick up motorcycle) driver negotiated when we jumped out of the back of the truck that had just given us a special ride. When we got this ride the smile on my face was big. After waiting quite long in the darkness which we entered after a 'Today we hitch until we are in Luang Prabang' and after going 30km on the wrong road and back. The roof of the truck was nothing but a bamboo-frame. The stars and the moon lighted up the mountains and villages and Ed playing the guitar accompanied me during this nice ride lying in between the bags of goods. Lacking our hitching cards explaining in the local language that we ask a ride for free and facing those friendly people who definitely don't have much money we paid for the ride. We continued paying truck drivers to get from there to Vang Vieng, another strange tourist hub. The tour packages offered consist of tubing down the river along the many bars, kayaking, cycling, visiting caves and waterfalls. Quite similar to those extensively advertised in Luang Prabang where also the Elephant rides were pretty popular. We were informed about their presence with the signs warning for wild elephants crossing along the road.
While I sit at the riverside I feel something is wrong. Six young boys dressed with their beautiful orange kashaya's are bathing and playing in the river. One of them just came to talk to me, using his few English sentences. I tried to find out what he felt about all those noisy tourists floating by but he did not understand. With my shoulders uncovered I officially offended the novice monks. I realise that if I would be alone among a culture with those rituals or customs of respect I would align but among those hundreds of tourists dressed in their own way I choose the 'wrong' camp.
The tourists on one side of me and the the monks with the farmers on the background on the other side I feel things don't fit! The town has too many restaurants with all the same menu. Some where you can lay down, eat and watch almost 24 hours Friends others would change everyday because they are not more then some tables along the road and a small open kitchen. In the evening the children of the young Lao couples sleep next to the low quality amplifiers playing 'western music'. At night they are like refugee tent camps.
Discussions about tourism, lonely planets and economic development are held from time to time. I am afraid Lonely Planet has maybe destroyed what it originally valued and communicated. Places mentioned in 'the book' have undoubtedly changed because of the typical 'lonely planners'. Vang Vieng used to have just a wooden plank to cross to the island three years ago, now at least 5 bamboo bridges bring you to the bars that are multiplying. To questions about responsible travelling typical 'responsible answers' have been created which I like to question as well. Visiting 'authentic' villages, participating in handicrafts workshops etc. Some might be successful now resulting in the development of many identical projects. Just like there is not one bar showing Friends but at least eight. Young families take risks when designing their lives based on travellers needs. The speed at witch the interest of travellers and 'lonely planners' whose books are constantly re-edited, change might become like the average switch to a new mobile phone which is about eighteen months. What will happen to those families? Or should I not think about the future and be happy that they make a little income where competition is very strong? And of course I am one of them. I am a traveller as well! Ed and I don't need much. Currently we need three trees to sleep in our hammocks. We do not ask for special air conditioned minibuses or VIP buses as they are called here. We prefer the back of a pick up who is driving anyway. Any local restaurant or street vendor is fine to fill our stomachs. But we do eat the pizza baguettes and french fries as well when it offered. Though need remains a too big word!
The Thai people I met adore Laos. It reminds them of their own land. Also travellers and their books talk about finding in Laos what you used to find in Thailand. Birma and Malaysia are now on the 'not spoiled yet -list'. I wonder if I ever will understand the word development. The same for experiencing cultures. I feel a little hunger for another more deep experience like wwoofing and regularly think about language barriers. But if you ask me about plans. I am heading to Thailand to meet friends from Estonia.

Crossing a new border ...

Travelling through the South West of China I can only find support for my earlier statement about borders that are vague. After we passed Jinghong Ed and I entered a new space. New dresses, new faces and new houses. I felt kind of surprised that again I was slowly leaving China. With 30 rides from Guangzhou we got to a very simple small border crossing near Mengla. The no-mans land between China and Laos is still under construction and hmmm not so much used (meaning not so many cars passing). The border crossing continued to be a source of joy. Just to be sure I asked the officer when I had to leave this country. I expected an answer 17th or 18th of January, he told me 16th of February. Visa's will remain an uncertainty! Thank you I said. We enjoyed our first cold Lao Beer and found a place to sleep in the jungle!
Laos, a land where we could easily enter, a land where smiles feel more genuine then in China, a land that at some moments seems to be a land of children only, a place where you choose which spices you add to your nice fried rice dish, a land that has beer carrying it's name that is really tasty and strong, a land where the communist red hammer and sickle waves next to the national one. Laos ... a new language, a new alphabet ...Laos the land that gave me more time than I asked for ...but again I have no idea where I really will be next month.

I am very lucky that my new travel companion is a computer-genius! You can take a look at his picture gallery to see mine as well (until I have solved my logistical data problems which happen if you travel five months without doing any proper work with your pictures)! You find access to his gallery on his blog: www.edwas.de

Messages

Today I received this message

sue:

i hope you will have good luck on you trip,and don't forget to keep in touch with me,i think i will do the same thing like you ,and at that time i need to ask you something about the travelling,such as how to save money and how to face to the problem when you are travelling,best wishes to you!

yours:bank

Bank is a young Chinese man I met on the streets in Guangzhou. I had just arrived in the East train station while Ed, my new travel companion was waiting in the Central station. When I arrive somewhere I am mostly unprepared or I miss some details on the small pieces of paper I had put some notes down. This time I had an address of a hostel where I was supposed to meet Ed six hours later. It was hardly readable because of my bad handwriting. I do not like to take buses or metro's. I like to walk and to look around and so I met Bank on a big street. He looked at me with my big backpack and I asked what was the direction for the river. I knew the hostel was near the river. Bank is working in an international hotel and speaks very well English. He took me to the very expensive hotel and helped me with a map, gave me water and many smiles. He said: 'I wanna be like you'. He started to work and I continued my road to meet Ed in the streets around the hostel, four hours before our agreed meeting time. The sun was shining.

I smile when I receive messages like this one from Bank. My address book gets filled with new people. It is great to meet so many good people. With Michiko we talked a lot about what Buddhism calls one of the eight sufferings: saying goodbye. And it is indeed not so easy. My separation from Carina hurts in a way. It is truly sad but we both know that this is what has to happen. From now on we have different visa's in our passports. I wished I could spend another evening at Michiko's place and just talk. But also many people from Belgium, Estonia or elsewhere only pass on my path of thoughts. This is the way it is. Everyday I am just on one small dot on the earth. I can not be everywhere.
And actually many friends are not so far. Some want to join me for a while others are travelling nearby. I feel surrounded with friends.
And I am so lucky! I am so lucky that we have a thing called Internet and sometimes even access to Skype.
Yesterday and today I take time to use it. So many beautiful letters unanswered in my post box, bit by bit I write also and can somehow empty my mind of all the words I would like to share.
Thank you all for the letters! They make me smile, sometimes I drop a tear, and they fill me with gratitude. My father is a great writer. In a way I feel being far away actually brings us closer. Distance is relative I think.
I do feel however that I want to apologise for not writing more. Many of my very good friends deserve a letter. I think of them and sometimes even just talk into the wind to them. I would shout to Carina who is across the sea. I smile to my grandmother or dance together with my sister in the absence of a song.
At times like today I feel like writing. A small break from the road. No backpack to pack, no road to travel. The city of Kunming has the right atmosphere. I am at peace.

Possible is anything

Thanks for your dreams I just said to Phil after we shared coffee and bread for breakfast. It is again one of those nice mornings, the sun shines and I feel very free. China indeed has its own brands which do look a lot like the ones we know and call the 'real ones'. One of the slogans exposed in flashy colours on brand new shops is 'Possible is Anything', we know this one as 'Impossible is Nothing'. But does it really matter? I just told to Phil that it takes me someone or something to show me that it is possible to believe and to dream. Phil just shared his dreams with me though to him they were already plans or I prefer to say he is just going to do it. He is not talking or dreaming. Phil is from Norway and has lived for a few months in Estonia. We shared some memories of Olde Hansa and the cold and hot weather out there in that beautiful kind country which remains very dear to me. Phil travels a step more extreme then me. He climbs high mountains and takes more challenges by going of the roads that are passed by cars. Phil hikes from village to village and sleeps on rocks. He is soon going to Birma. Yesterday I told Ed how this kind of mountain-hiking-travelling is another future dream of me ... something I always wanted to do but I am not ready yet. People like Phil just bring me closer to feel 'I can do it'. Thank you for your dreams I said this morning. I wonder if I am stealing dreams. Is my dream of life a puzzle of little pieces I receive from others? Does it matter? I feel so free . Visa's are the only border to my freedom I often said but also this limit actually diminishes day by day. Possible is anything. I get advice how to extend or renew visa's and yesterday I just walked into the office of the consulate of Laos and tomorrow I probably have a visa in my passport. But it feels sometimes like 'others' are unfolding my road. A feeling I now realise Carina tried to tell me about ... how the road just comes to her. A feeling I only got since I was in Japan on my own. In Ukraine in the beginning of our trip I wrote in my diary that I felt like travelling Carina's road as a shadow. Our very different level of Russian language was not the only reason. Sharing experiences is a great joy but deep inside I feel my life is about going my way, Sue's way, a path where many others are my travel companions, teachers or guides but I walk it alone.
More and more I realise that actually even sharing experiences remains at a very low level or something hard to do. Even when travelling together 24 hours and sitting in the same car does not make a difference. Ed and I travelled truly beautiful roads across the Chinese countryside and mountains but he saw other things. One motivation for my trip was to find out how to share experiences about other places and lifestyles. Especially with people who haven't been in those other places like Asia for example. It was something we in non governmental organisations related to development cooperation and raising awareness on global problems or 'issues' talked a lot about. We would try all kind of things to increase tolerance and stimulate behaviour that would make our planet a better place. So far however I feel less and less able to transfer my experiences into words. My pictures are almost worth nothing because the 'great' moments, stories or views I can not catch on a snapshot. But I don't give up on this topic. The answer is blowing in the wind. It is about being. I am more and more tolerant. I inspire some people I meet just by showing that it is possible for example to travel without spending a lot of money just like Phil inspired me this morning. I feel a true value in contact between people, meeting face to face even if you only share a few words in common languages. And it is about time with people. With Carina, Brent or Ed now there was/is time to talk and to be silent. Or I spend one month on the farm in Japan. Wongsan, a great wwoofer from Hong Kong, and I reflected a lot about the process of entering a home, a daily life of a young family that starts with amazement, excitement about superficial visible, eye opening things and moves towards a deeper understanding and a feeling of being part of 'something'. Everyday we would do our work 'better', and caring more about this family. When you experience how your 'boss' lives, how he uses the money of his cash crops and you put on top the value of what you receive in terms of warmth, teachings, great food (I have to say it) and a roof then it just feels like 'making sense' to work on his fields.
My travel feels sometimes like I am observing daily lives without having one myself. I mean in the sense that it is very hard to call my days a routine or serving an aim like feeding others, raising money or building a house. But in every observation there are examples or lessons for my own life today, tomorrow or in the future. The last days I was looking at the lives of many Chinese.
China looks like a game to me. I remember one of my first impression in August when I saw all those people living on the streets and playing games on small low tables. I saw so many games being played. Sometimes for money, sometimes the table was only occupied by either men or women. Chinese also have something childish (which I do not mean in a bad sense). Their reactions are in a way childish -compared to 'Western behaviour'- their surprise is clearly visible and when they look at you like you are from Mars for 10 minutes it is a genuine behaviour unlimited by possible scruples or any code of conduct. Just like they just spit when they feel like. I am amazed by the 'time' people have here. In the big cities there is a fast wave, a rhythm. You can recognize things like a rush hour. The continuous sound of the horns might also give you the impression that people are in a hurry but I guess the reason for doing so it to prevent accidents from happening. It is their order in the chaos on the streets. Street life in China is also very slow. So may people are just sitting. Young mothers, grandmothers, fathers sit on small low chairs with children on their laps. They observe the little 'activity' happening in front of them. Cars, bikes and motorcycles, of which China is full of, are being repaired. People are doing laundry or cooking. But many people just sit or stand along the road, one group of them are the motorcycle guys ... I guess they are waiting to give somebody a lift to earn just enough to buy one small bottle of water. I can not understand how this country lives. You might expect people would be busy with work on the fields, cleaning or repairing their houses (a few brick walls and a metal gate) but people just sit. Except from the hyper-modern city centers I hardly have seen any 'finished' or clean living places. Beds are placed next to the oil, the woodcutting place or the dusty bags filled with rice or sand. Houses are small, often build without any 'architectural' logic and often even put together with some wood and fabric only. I don't know how 'statistically correct' this observation is but I must say that those I see working are mostly women. Their backs aren't straight from the heavy bamboo baskets, children and their labour on the fields. In the countryside I saw many children walking and smiling on their long ways home from school for example. Some still wearing the red scarfs. Did they forget that this kind of communism is over? Or is it not over? We at least experienced one crazy lunch with some eight members of the communist party in a place called the autonomous region of Bama. Also the women dressed in either colourful or Mao-like grey, dark blue outfits smile beautifully.
I am happy for our road. We saw many great scenery. Nature changes very often. I saw many 'traditional' houses which other 'tourists' go and see on 'expensive-artificially-traditional-tourist attractions' and also the many minorities in their 'traditional' clothes. I thought a lot about tradition on the road. Though China has in my opinion not many real sightseeing spots, like for example European cities have, I mean if you look at the spots they try to 'sell' to tourists. China has many genuine things I see along the roads less travelled. For example the beautiful old roofs. I feel that what is often stamped as being traditional has stopped being a normal everyday part of life. For those 'minorities' on the mountains their clothing style is not traditional I think. I believe they don't consciously think about it that they are preserving their unique culture.
I am a traveller who likes everyday lives, I like landscapes and basic things. I do not visit all the temples I pass and when i do I often leave with a feeling of confusion because I can not catch the stories it tells. I enjoy the company of the many different Chinese drivers that pick me up. The communication in words is limited but I prefer to meet those Chinese who do not see a foreigner as a person carrying a big wallet. Hitchhiking in China is not so easy as in Japan where people at least know the concept from the movies. Chinese don't know what it is but nevertheless we moved quite smoothly to Kunming from where I am writing now. Ed and I made a bet one morning how many cars it would take us to Kunming. He won! He is also quite good in estimating the waiting time for a car to take us. Though in general I am the most optimistic he is always right with the little time he guesses. Other times he said 'what do you feel?' I would answer for example that I really like yellow. The yellow car that approached us indeed stopped. We also met a few 'toll-gate' or road police people. They helped us a lot and we even got a 30 km ride from two young police men who drove us to the right highway entrance after we missed one turn. The blue light was blinking in the darkness and they even stopped some cars on the highway to ask if they were going our direction. I wonder what impression the Chinese have about their police? That night we slept under the surveillance of the nice toll gate people. It was cold and humid but a good sleeping bag and the morning sun solved everything.

The road leads through China again

I am filled with many impressions, great experiences and lovely moments. My time in Japan has come to an end. It was a sad departure from some dear friends and a special country but I entered the chaos of China with a new big smile on my face. The story of Japan is mostly written in my diary after I wrote you about my great homestay in Kobe. The story starts from the great Shikoku trip where I was one of the 'wave-catchers' (cool surfers) for the first time, to meetings with strangers that were helping me to find a job on a farm, being warmly welcomed by 'old friends', attending a charity concert with a special 'mindful woman' who works with orphanages in India, meeting Carina and talk about our different worlds in Japan to another camping trip around Biwa-ko and along the coast to Yokohama and into the mountains of Nagano where I ended up on my wwoof-farm. I stayed at the farm for one month. It was a truly precious month. A lively life with a warm young Japanese family and other volunteers in a cosy small house ...the apple farm ... A month I will try to write about later. The end of my visa in Japan made me move back to where I arrived in Shimonoseki. I visited one great Japanese friend in Nagoya, said goodbye to another great friend from Hong Kong and moved on to Kyoto where I met up with Carina and Sam, my neighbour from the old days in Hove. My last days I spent in my Japanese home! In the company of Michiko and 'Otosan' (Tohru). The talks at breakfast, during the days or late at night will stay with me as a very warm memory. The last weekend also Carina came to Kobe and we gave a presentation about our trip and had an amazing farewell party. With the most beautiful hitchhiking sign I set off on Sunday morning to get with three rides to Shimonoseki. Utopia 2 left this time for Taicang (Shanghai) and I said goodbye to Japan. This time I was alone on the boat among the Chinese and Japanese passengers, I was on the way to a new challenge in China. In Shanghai I met with the father of a friend from Belgium. He briefly introduced me the world of advertising, a creative field, a new inspiration and an eye opener. I walked the streets of this big city for two days and left for the south of China to meet Ed, a German hitchhiker whom I met through the digihitch website. We missed our first appointment at the train station but he found me in the streets of Guangzhou, another very big city! We set off together on the Chinese roads, some of great quality some are comparable to Russian ones, aiming to reach Laos or Vietnam. Hitchhiking in China remains not the most easy thing. It is hard to make yourself understood, people watch you as you are an alien, surround you or take you to bus stations, they do not know the concept of hitchhiking. However we made it from Guangzhou to Shaoguan, Lianzhou, Hezhou and are currently in Guilin. We spent our nights under the stars with campfires and the guitar. I am by now at ride number 108, have some holes in socks, pants, underwear, sleeping blanket,... but I am still very happy ...the road is mine, the feeling of freedom is great. The China I see has many sides. The extreme poverty on the country side to the big cities where mega screens light up the nights. It is hard to grasp and even harder to describe.

I managed to put up some pictures of the middle part of my trip on flickr, please find them here http://www.flickr.com/photos/18567670@N06/

I am wwoofing

Since a few days I have become a wwoofer. Sometimes people ask me if I am a student. "Yes, a student of life" I answer. I am also a traveller and a hitchhiker. or "I just am". But right now I am mostly a wwoofer. I am working on a farm at the foot of the Japanese Alps and receive delicious ultra healthy organic food, in huge portions, a warm bed and great company of the young farmers family Akio, Terimu, Wara and Hua and other wwoofers who come and go. I am out all days, see many mountains, animals and I learn a lot.
Last days I was selecting apples for juice, twisting apples for their beautiful red colours, pear picking, smaching dried crops to collect egoma, a spicy kind of sesame and on the picture you see me playing after the rice harvest we did this morning. Some five hundred kilo of rice, enough to feed the family and wwoofers a whole year through!
I also just learned how to add pictures to my blog so for the parts I have not been able to write about yet I give you already some snapshots! The nice layout will come later ...

Some snapshots "back in time"

My working environment near Matsumoto, Nagano Prefecture

Onsen or natural Japanese hot spring ... just great watching beautiful coloured leaves slowly finding their way to the ground. One of the great stops during my hitchhiking trips. Go to onsen with your drivers!

I ended up being an amazed spectator of the 33rd Japanese National Lifesaving Championships in Fujisawa.

One of our truck drivers making a next sign in Kanji (Chinese characters). And Brent, one of my travel companions.

A Japanese church ..., no a shrine in Biwa-ko, the biggest lake in Japan near Kyoto.

A great musician and an unexpected homestay

I felt I was living in a dream. Only a few hours after saying goodbye to Carina at a crossroad in Kyoto I found myself in great Japanese company. People I would meet again and whom I get to know better. My first day in Kobe was about David Juritz, I became his photographer and moviemaker and listened several times to his amazing performances. We visited an International School, surprised people in front of a fancy schopping centre and I ended up in astonishment in a small cosy cafe. I could hardly speak. It was beautiful. Between his concerts we talked about life. Please take a look on his website and believe me any support for his charity organisation Musequality will be used in a very good way. In Uganda he supports some young streetchildren who made it from establishing a local brass band to an organisation supporting education for the other disadvantaged children in Kampala. He spoke about children breaking into school early in the mornings to practice. After he left his music accompanied me many times when I was working in Kobe. The unexpected music performance had connected me to Michiko, a woman of 67 who became my Japanese host mother but especially became a very special friend. Someone you know you will keep in touch with. We connected very well. A bit similar maybe? I was smiling. Everyday when I woke up I was so happy to be in that cosy house in the hills of Kobe. I called Michiko`s husband Otosan. Just like everybody called him. Only after staying ten days I found out I was calling him `father`. But he was my Japanese father. The warmth of this great couple is indescribable. I learned, I learned a lot from them. And it was sad to leave. Michiko was very busy, first with being a great help to David Juritz. Through a friend of her daughter, also a great violinist, she became his main contact person in Japan. She was also preparing a charity concert with an old friend of hers from New York and drove many times up to the hospital to take care of her mother. So busy and still she took also great care of me. In a way we met at the right moment because soon it became clear I could help her a lot. I cleaned the `Abesan Temple`, became a gardener and helped with the preparations of the concert. Twice I replaced her as an English teacher for eight children and two mothers which gave me my first Japanese earnings. Sometimes we would talk till late in the night and many times Michiko approached me with great ideas. I learned to slurp again and that walking with the toilet slippers in other parts of the house is simply not done. I was surprised by many Japanese things. Otosan took me to a beef-party. I did not know that Kobe beef is the best in the world. I was truly in heaven that night on his sailing boat surrounded by his great smiling friends, with a beautiful sunset and the beef melting on my tongue. Otosan would also take me for a hike in the botanical garden, for ice creams and lunches. One evening the three of us drove up the mountain in Kobe to wave to Carina. The view on the Osaka-Kobe bay by night was great. I learned so much! I learned about Buddhism, life, Japanese society, some Japanese language, especially from her two grandchildren Otoha and Amane, and even some predictions about my own future! After two great weeks I left the house of the Abesans to make room for Michiko`s daughter and her family who was coming over from Florida. I left on a trip to Shikoku Island to think about what I wanted to do next in Japan.

Stories of Japan (part one)

I am seated in a cosy place that acts as the central office of a youth hostel in Yokohama. I just found out that it is the second biggest city of Japan but nevertheless I liked the name. Behind me are some eight people sitting, some in suits, others are casually dressed women. One men is speaking most of the time and occasionally an older women adds some clarifications to his English. Government, justice, prison, money, privacy, clans, organisations, crime, social workers and safety are some of the words out of their conversation. The topic is related to maffia and breaking the cycle of crime. Only after a while they ask themselves in what place they are: the lobby of the youth hostel. One of the foreigners (US) is staying here. With curiosity they ask where I am from.
Maffia is definitely an actual topic here in Japan. The sound of police sirenes attracts with some fear in the eyes, the company behind me. The third time I come accross this topic, every time in very unexpected circumstances. Those men with one missing finger have been seen before also by a lifesaver from New Zealand and a priest from Signapore that I met on my way in Japan.
The sirene comes from the fire brigade. Someone was cooking fish. The Italian guy next to me refers to suchimi ...raw fish.

I just arrived this morning here in Yokohama where I said "have a good trip" to my friend Brent. He is flying back to New Zealand. His plane is right now on the way to its `right` altitude to fly for 11 hours to Auckland. I find myself in the middle of Japan which also means all options are accessible. A nice feeling when nothing is decided yet. I could go to Tokyo to meet Sam, my former neighbour, I could go to Gifu where Ciera my American sister used to live for two years, back to Kobe for a party with the friends of the Peace Forest or maybe I head towards Hokkaido. The future again is something I can not talk about. I have no plans. The only thing I can say is that I became a member of Wwoof Japan and read today about possible places to work for food and accomodation. I have always liked moments and places that have doors to many opportunities. I often saw my studies like that, as wide as possible ...

So back to the past. The first glimpse I have of Japan are forests and mountains. Already from the boat I saw that these are `new` forests. Just different then any I saw before. The big bamboo trees continue to surprise me untill today. Japan has almost 75% of land covered with forest and mountains. The huge population of over 127 million people lives very packed on the resting 25% mostly along the coast. The cities are big, the houses stand so close to one another that when your neighbour opens the door you think he is standing next to your bed. Trains run sometimes just two meter from the kitchen windows of the small and modest houses that I would stamp with an seventies or eighties character. The building materials are ugly and useful wins over beauty. Something that can not be said about the people and the food. I find Japanese people to be very beautiful and I like the clothing style. Boots stiffed with lam wool though don`t seem to be very useful when it is 30 degrees! And the food mmmmm ... probably impossible to write about but in terms of beauty Japanese food ranks the highest so far! And yes also in terms of tasty or "o-ishee" it is top class. Just imagine a very big smile on my face because the tastes are heavenly! Unfortunately I do not know what I have eaten. I forget the difficult names which results in trying new things all the time because I do not manage to order my favourites. I have been eating in great and beautiful restaurants, on my knees, without shoes, in small rooms, with two people and with 15 people ...the culinary experience is for sure a great part of travelling. Mmmm indeed what have I been doing one month in Japan? Eating a lot. The few kilo`s I lost on my way here have been added again. My chopsticks skills have improved and surprised many Japanese. A bony fish is almost no problem and when offered a fork and spoon I ask for the chopsticks ...feels easier ..mmm.

I met Carina in the end of September in Kobe where she joined me for a charity concert in a beautiful wooden Sake Brewery. Present where many people I knew like two beautiful Japanese children that I gave a bath the evening before and a man that had a typed letter for me about his research on working on a farm in Hokkaido. She asked me how it all started. I realised it is a long story but one that still amazes me a lot.

Carina and I arrived on September the third in Shimonoseki. I hear voices at the crossroads "please wait" Carina translates. I pass a thing called Pachinko which is present even in the smallest village in Japan ..the game-places that make a tremendous noice, full of machines and screens that are obviously unhealty for eyes and brains and filled with different kinds of people you would not immediately associate with such places. Parking lots are crowded and people wait even early in the morning for the opening doors. Crazy, simply crazy! Soon I also touch the `new` trees and happily visit a temple that has not turned into a tourist attraction. Hitching in Japan went easily and Carina and I camped with fire at a beach north of Shimonoseki. At night the jellyfish in the Japanese sea gave me a still lasting obsession with these spooky animals. I remember seeing very very big ones from the boat to Japan and just would not like to feel their stings again. Japan is a country of golf. I didn`t know and smiled at a man who was playing golf with the sea (or with someone in Chine) on a pier. Driving in Japan you often pass places that look like huge birdcages and are heavily lighted in the evening. On several floors people practice their golf skills. Real golf courses you hardly see.
The next day we end up in Kyoto. There is no particular reason. It is late and the temple where we are dropped is closed. We found a great spot in a park to sleep. Public toilets are everywhere in Japan and they are almost 95% equipped with toilet paper, sometimes even folded in a triangle like in luxury hotels ...great for travellers like me. I like it. In the morning I am surprised by the clean water that runs through the park in small rivers. I can`t remember seeing such clean streams in any European city. It was our last morning together. Around 13.00 Carina hitches alone to Osaka to the place she will be living for four months. And me ...I walk on my way ... Next to eating always comes the question of sleeping, sometimes this question arises late but that afternoon on the September the 5th was different. I was about to start a `relatively long term` stay in Japan ...I would work somewhere as life is expensive. I had 30.000 Yen (about 180 euro) and kind of thought I should be able to live from this in Japan, meaning all other necessary cash would need to be earned. So I find my way to international community houses to collect too many papers; information about hostels, work, volunteers teaching English. I explained to the friendly staff: " I want to find a home, a job and actually first of all I would like to find an intensive language course". The summercourses are over ... I take a bus to another International house for more detailed information on language courses. I ended up in Kyoto and not knowing anything about Japan there was no reason to choose any particular `other` place to start my new life. I walk and when I approach the place in a nice and quiet area I hear music. A violin. I see tables and chairs outside on the square in front of the big building I intended to enter. I never did. Two Japanese ladies invite me to sit down. I place in silence my backpack against the wall and take a seat in the front. I smile. It sounds beautiful. I receive a press release telling me more about the man playing barefooted on his violin. David Juritz, an international violinist who left his work for a trip around the world. Busking for the support of music projects. After the concert, of which I only heared the last 10 minutes ...what if I had arrived 15 minutes later ... I talk to the company and introduce myself as a collegue, but only for the travelling part. I buy the cd. One of the ladies speaks fluent English and invites me to come along ..I did not have any concrete plans, no booking for a youth hostel ...nothing planned so I say: "Yes, I would love to". Soon I find myself listening to David`s next concert and Michiko, the Japanese lady, invited me to go with her to Kobe after we had a great Japanese dinner. She could host me.

This cosy place where some girls are talking on the background is about to close. I realise the Japanese sounds already very familiar to me, like Estonian or Russian did ... I enjoy the sounds.

no news is good news

I am already more than a month in the land of the rising sun, I have seen sunsets, sunrises, whales, waves, rice and raw fish ... many impressions and stories have remained untold and unshared ... I feel I would need some time, a lot of time to write things down properly ...but life goes on and it is so interesting ...I haven't managed to find access to a computer on the right moment ...so for those curious what I have been up to ...hold on ...

Life is treating me very well, I am healthy, happy and I find every evening a roof ...so far I slept one time in a hostel, many times in my tent and in several Japanese houses... I do not know where I will be the coming days ... but

I am alive and kicking ...

I suppose the same goes for all of you ..no news is good news ...though I truly enjoy your writings and stories. Thanks a lot!

greetings from Fujisawa ...yep, I see mount Fuji ...

Time to go to Japan

Cars, especially in Russia were shaking us sometimes to all sides but living 42 hours on a big boat made me walk the Japanese soil for two more days moving unnecessarily from left to right and feeling a bit dizzy. I was surprised how such a big boat can be so much influenced by the waves. Surrounded by sea and after exploring all corners of the ship Carina and I had lots of time to talk and have tea. Probably we could have spent even more time like this: running around, bathing in a big bathroom with a huge warm bath and 10 showers or just watching the sea and wonder. The time to reflect and read our diaries to one another was a beautiful gift before we would arrive to the land of the Rising Sun and live a different life then the past two months. Many people asked me about our companionship. We lived 24 hours together for two months, sharing food from one plate and sleeping sometimes really close to each other. Something I have never done with anybody before. But our companionship was truly great and with a lot of joy. When in September 2006 we said: `next year we will go together` it was a deep feeling in me that told me Carina was the right person to travel with. The joy of sharing experiences with somebody is indescribable as well is having really a lot of time to get to know somebody very valuable.
When entering China I had a Lonely Planet with at least 80 pages of compact history, written from a Western perspective, in my backpack. But when moving towards Japan I consciously had not searched for any information or travel guide. I must admit that long time ago I developed this prejudice of not liking Japan at all. It did not say me anything; I did not feel like visiting this island. I don’t know why or when this prejudice was formed but I am grateful for Carina who dragged me along to the East. Especially during this travel I have been thinking a lot about how my prejudices came into being and how they proved to be incorrect. My idea of not liking Japan was very much out of place. I liked this country from the moment I was stepping on its soil. I am also extremely happy to experience this place, its culture and nature like a child, without any previous knowledge. So actually I also want to say to those readers who would like to travel like this and enjoy the joy of amazement and discovering, maybe you should not continue. The first things about Japan I learned on the boat. Carina and I are standing on the upper deck when she says: `that guy is Japanese`. I ask `how do you know`. `By the way he walks` she says. I laugh. She explains that this `way` results from sitting on the knees. Second thing I learn are that slippers are very important and that walking with shoes in certain places is simply NOT done! The third thing I learnt was the Japanese way of bathing. The bath is shared. My host mother would later say: `We Japanese, we don’t make the water dirty`. You shower and wash and only then you go into the bath, a small hot swimming pool. We would be sitting there in the middle of the night and would be cleaner then ever.
But what is maybe one of the very present and visible characteristics of Japanese people became visible straight after passing the Chinese border in Qingdao port. A sign told me the ethics of the staff of the port. Things like not to discriminate, be polite, don’t say unfriendly words　etc.; which we in Europe of course also expect from staff were just clearly stated. So far I also haven’t seen any Japanese neglecting those rules of courtesy. Sometimes this friendliness would really surprise us, like when we sneaked into the cafeteria of the boat and ate our own food at the table in the corner and the staff, who were preparing the place to open it, would say `Thank you very much` to us.
And so step by step I learn about Japan. I look with my eyes wide open. I received a stamp in my passport stating I am a temporary visitor who has the right to stay till the 2nd of December. Never since the start of our journey had I felt so much freedom. We reached Japan in time for Carina to start her research at the Japanese Foundation for which she got a scholarship. No more `have to be somewhere`s` and for the first time my passport gives me the right to stay in one country for more then 30 days! Japan would be very different for us. Carina`s life would be certain for four months. She has a roof for every night, she has a clear task to accomplish, and she has money and food. I entered Japan without any knowledge, except from the map of Japan I got from Carina in Qingdao, and without any plan. I felt so free and was filled with indescribable joy. Carina could not help it to worry about me or feel guilty that she is walking towards a luxurious life and that I did not know where to go. And of course a certain feeling of sadness was coming over us. Reaching Japan meant we would separate soon. We did not feel tired of traveling together at all.

Many feelings about China

For the first time I had time to read my previous post. Mmm, so little I have written. It feels almost unjust to give China so few words. My mind has been a bit uneasy about this overload of impressions and stories which remained untold. But what to do? Life was too interesting to look into the past or like I did not want to close my eyes when travelling. So much to wonder about! But now I take some time to catch up a bit with China!

China was hot, so hot that the sweat sticks to the skin like a layer of Vaseline. And there was no escape. We would often say `Banya-effect gone`, referring to the clean feeling we had after Russian Banya followed by sweating again and feeling dirty like before. But compared to sauna’s where you can escape into cold water, snow or just fresh air, the Chinese weather was there just to bare it. And so we did. I realise that by now I don’t mind the heat anymore. One friend told me about how you can get used to things or create new habits when you hold on for 21 days. Maybe it is true because just to mention some I got used to chopsticks, heat, uncertainty, mosquito bites and a 20 kilo backpack. The same by the way holds true when you want to get rid of bad habits like being angry, jealous or when you complain a lot.

China was not a developing country if I would make a mathematical conclusion of the China I saw. But of course I saw only a little.
China is soooo big. A population of 1.3 billion living on an area of 9.6 million sq km. Some comparisons: Mongolia has only 2.5 million people on an area of 1.5 million sq km and Russia has 144.5 million people on 17 million sq km. China also clearly has more roads and is not like Siberia. But how to grasp these feelings you get about population density. For example I remember that Tuva republic in Russia has 300 thousand inhabitants but over two million of cattle are running around. To me China did feel `full` after Russia and Mongolia. Maybe this feeling was strengthened by some words of Russian drivers about a forthcoming war in 2008 between China and Russia on land issues. In China this was sometimes confirmed or replied with `Oh, this war is already going on`. And Russia indeed has many unsettled border agreements. China is developing so quickly that indeed it’s need for land, water and energy are increasing rapidly. The population is still growing despite the `one child policy` that was introduced in the end of the seventies. It remains a point of discussion if this policy has helped or not. We were of course curious and found out that this policy is not as simple as it seems. In many areas like the country side where workforce is hardly needed to remain self sufficient more children are allowed. In the urban areas you can buy more children, meaning you pay a lot of money and then you are allowed to have more! Other options to circumvent this policy are giving birth abroad (also costly) or abandon your child. We did not get any precise information on a relation between the policy and the number of orphans.
But back to China’s state as a developing country. Of course I saw poverty, I saw many people living with basics, sharing a toilet with several alleys of the hutongs, sleeping on the streets, collecting bottles or living in a house made of some fabric and a bicycle. Almost one fourth of Beijing’s citizens live in old dwellings in the hutongs and I do not know if I can really say so, but I was lucky to see them. In the center (tourist) area of Beijing there are only a few left. Beijing (who that really is I do not know, some city officials maybe, some businessmen?) wants to be a modern city and as such the hutongs, which feel to me like the real China, are swept aside. Some of them to be rebuild on Beijing’s outskirts. With an area of 16.800 sq km (more than half of Belgium) and a population of 12 million you can start to imagine how far away people are forced to live from their `home`. Every year some 10.000 dwellings are ruthlessly bulldozed and with the Olympics coming in 2008 they might almost completely disappear. Of course I ask: `aren’t there any protest movements?` The answer: `what can you do when you get murdered when you protest!` I wonder if this is the China that I like. How can it be so stupid and sad. What is it to live in a country where you have to be silent? I also think about us as foreigners, what can we do? This feeling of wanting to do something leaves me quickly,... too late, too big enemy to fight ...? But the sad feeling that arose from observing such money-minded inhuman projects remains for a long time with me.
Though from the outside China might look modern, we definitely got a glimpse on some issues like the vast hold Chinese leaders have on the people and the country not being free. The Olympics are all over China. People trying to sell shirts to us: `Souvenir, souvenir, different colours, buy, buy`, many flyers, flags and big advertisements. Many food-products carry the logo while slogans and newspapers proudly announce that with the Olympics China will show its rich culture for the first time to the world. All Chinese are called to be part of it (in a socialist Mao-manner). The concrete marathon and modernisation speed are too visible and hurt my eye. I wonder who wants to see this modern China and what about the experience of so many other countries organising the Olympics and going bankrupt?
But again back to `development`. China is doing very well in achieving the Millennium Development Goals. It is maybe even the world leader in poverty alleviation. From 490 million people living below poverty line in 1990 it counted only 88 million in 2001. These figures still make me so dizzy, especially when I think of the richness I saw. We traveled for example in amazingly luxurious cars and saw many fancy shops. Unfortunately China is also the country known for the biggest gap between rich and poor. Further away from Beijing and many times when being on the road I did see real poverty and it made me feel very confused to see this from windows of expensive cars, driving on very good roads. In an article of the China Daily I read about how the new UNDP head for China tries to develop a plan to reach the MDGs aligned with the XiaoKang Vision that promotes a society in which people are moderately well off and middle class. At first sight it seems a long way to go! More info on XiaoKang: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiaokang.
China is so enormous, so complex and mysterious. My time there was an incentive for further investigation. Maybe its history is more attractive to me then its future. I also liked it more to watch a movie like `To Live` (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_live) in an apartment in Beijing on the 21st floor with some real Chinese food then to visit the Summer palace as a tourist. I enjoyed to read sayings of Lao Tse and to get a silk skirt made by a lady on the streets. Observing communism today, its consequences, ruins and deeply rooted structures in very different places like Russia, Mongolia and China gave me lot of `food` for thinking. Reading the book Animal Farm of George Orwell for example while sleeping in the meeting hall of a Chinese police station with `watching` portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin, Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping are just too different from reading the same book in Antwerp. And maybe just to be clear, we did not do anything wrong to get into that police station near Jining (Shangdong province). We kindly asked to put our tent n their garden but got a meeting hall and a dinner instead. The next morning they arranged a ride for us with a bus to Qingdao (a six hour ride for free). That was maybe also a not too usual ride!
With our initial difficulties of hitchhiking in our mind and after flipping a coin we travelled from Beijing to Xi-an (one of the seven `once capital` cities of China) by train. Also an experience! Frightened by people’s reactions and stories we were prepared for the worst. We bought the cheapest tickets, which means `standing tickets` for 150 Yuan. Already in the bus to the train, standing for one hour was painful, we were about to `stand` for 12 hours! Then it happened to us that we spent 1.5 hour in a Chinese post office to send some packages home and as such we missed our train by 10 minutes. Aaarghhh we think again of worst case scenarios and wait the long ticket line for new ones. Before we realize it we have a ticket for the train two hours later without paying anything. Amazingly easy and our luck does not stop! Standing did not mean to be squeezed like pigs in a wagon without windows; we were simply put in between the seats. I was even more lucky and got on an empty seat. Carina was sitting on her backpack and except from standing up for passengers and food carriages every 5 minutes during the first hours the ride was quite comfortable. Maybe even too comfortable. After our reflections and doubts about this way of traveling, because we also ended up in a youth hostel in Xi-an, we decide to hit the road again. And it went very well, we slept again somewhere in the field/forest along the road and discover the quality of Chinese highway restaurants and facilities. The communication with the drivers goes well enough and two times we end up in a local bus, once when a family takes us with good intentions into the center of Lankou and once when for almost one hour we are surrounded by 60 curious people in the center of Heze where we tried to hitchhike. Places like this where almost no foreigners come were very nice experiences. Also here for example you can eat for 3 Yuan and see true Chinese life. After five people telling us to take a bus we check out how to go to Jining from Heze. 20 Yuan people on the street told us, so we are surprised when the lady at the counter says 75. We say it is too much and leave to check the city map. Before we understand what is happening the lady talks to the bus driver and gives us two tickets for 20 Yuan each. A half-hitchhiked bus? That day was so full, I smiled and enjoyed the views along local small roads.
We arrived sooner then expected in Qingdao where we buy our ticket for Japan. And yes, the boat was called UTOPIA 2. The ladies of the Japanese desk of the travel agency (based in an extremely posh hotel) call a very cheap family hostel mentioned but not recommended by Lonely Planet so we also soon had a roof in this very very western (German) city. We stayed several days here due to health problems. Probably it was the air-conditioning or whatever but first Carina got a severe cold and the second day in Qingdao I got ill as well. With high temperature and great help of our host and neighbours I visit the hospital to treat my flu. The lady of our really small hostel continues to take care of us with healthy porridge, tea, massage and kindness. The hospital though is one of the places where you would stamp China as a developing country but the English speaking nurse took great care of me and also Carina became a nurse. One night at 4 am Carina tells me that the date on our tickets is wrong. We knew the ship was leaving on Thursday but the date showed 30th of　August and according to us it should be 31st. We try to calculate but we remain uncertain about the date. The next morning we find out that it is Thursday already. We simply would have missed the boat. Instead of packing Carina went to change the tickets to Saturday 1st so I would be healthier. Though we had to be at the port at 15.30 the ship left only at 1.00 am the 2nd of September. It remained a question to us why the people had to board so soon. By entering a Japanese boat we left China behind us, both with a feeling of returning one day. With 70 rides and 4 trains we reached Qingdao, it took us 40 days!

Amazing China

I couldn't prepare for an 'unplanned' trip, I did not choose to start to learn twenty new languages but somehow I felt my mind was more prepared to travel through Russia then for being in China. Such a huge amount of 'new' things. And it goes far beyond just leaving fork and knive behind, which we consiously did in Mongolia! I adapted quickly to at least read the cyrillic alphabet but now at the time of writing being 12 days in China I must admit not to know any of the chinese signs! They have over 10.000 signs if you also take some older ones which are not used frequently anymore. The pinyin, or chinese in our letters, is a bit easier but this comes with four tones which still make correct pronounciation very hard! Our first hitchhiking experiences here also went with some difficulties but with joy as well. At the border town Erlian, an English speaking girl helped us to get some useful sentences on paper and to get to the gas station at the road to Beijing. Sometimes we would feel like an unknown animal in a zoo. In extreme hot weather and only desert surrounding us the local people surely showed interest and were curious about us, but remained far from understanding what is hitchhiking. With spending some money for a ride we conclude our first day in China with sleeping in the desert in our tent. By nine in the morning we would feel already again like being in a dry sauna. Mouth feels dry and almost no need for going to toilet! What we saw? Empty land with some attempt to plant trees. The sand storms from Gobi frequently attack bigger cities southwards like Beijing but desertification goes on ... . The villages we passed were also in strong contrast with Siberian colourful wooden houses or the gers. It felt like passing true history. Old loam houses, all with the same sandy colour and structured in a linear and unsocial pattern. Driving further along some antennas interrupted this dream. Chinese roads were very good compared to Russia but also here many people drove off-road, just on sandy roads next to the good one, this time to circumvent the road tax! The second day we ended up in Jining and again exposed to the help, or attention, of quite many people we managed to get to the right road out of the city, but five hours of unsuccessful hitchhiking brought us to take a bus to Beijing.
Though we are again gifted with time we reached Beijing quite quickly, we did not know at all what to expect but in general you could say we are not so keen on cities ... Walking in Beijing I just had too few eyes and even less place in my mind to absorb what I saw. A whole new world! This city embraced us and probably remains a place to visit. We were extremely lucky to meet with Zhoya, Carina's teacher of Chinese in Tallinn, with whom we stayed. I don't know where or how to start to describe feelings and impressions I had. Wow Wauw Mmmmm. I really like it and again soon my preconceptions became clear and prooved incorrect. First of all I have to say something about the food. To stamp it quickly: "the most rich kitchen I ever met". From donkey, to chicken fingers, famous Peking Duck, to fish that you see alive 5 minutes before it is on your plate, to bugs and spices. There is so much variety and the tastes and ways of eating are so new and different! Copsticks feel already totally naturally to us, but there is much more like the joy of ordering many dishes and sharing everything. Zhoya is a real food lover and introduced us many times to the most wonderful meals. Among the many dishes tried and seen I recognised none of what we in Europe 'know' as Chinese food! It must be said also that the food is really cheap so even we as budget travellers could afford a 'Burgundian' lifestyle. Now that I touched the issue of money though we did feel a change in ourselves. As everything is so cheap we ended up spending quite a lot. But we also became tourists both for the Chinese people (merchands) we became people whom they can charge more (untill Carina became very good in the bargaining 'game') and in our actions like visiting 'costly' tourist attractions. When we yesterday found a place in Xian where the real old tempels and houses where not restored yet, we felt pure joy and confirmed our doubts about the value of tourist attractions. In Beijing there are many of those but the most I liked really just hanging around in the small alleys (hutongs), joining in for some evening dancing on the streets and discovering faces, smiles and smells. We left aside some of the 'have to see's' but we did visit the Great Wall, though with a personal touch! By closing time we hid in the forests next to the wall under a mosquito net and then when the 'coast' was free we climbed a watchtower and slept under an amazing starry sky. We lived a full week in Beijing and the top five moments of immense happiness and satisfaction were probably the tea ceremony offered by Zhoya who graduated from masterclass, the food, the so right-not kitch appearance of chinese architecture and red pawns, the bicycles and the blue sky after four days of smog. Because it is true, you see the smog! And even when temperatures already rose to 36 I was happy to see the sun! It might have been that the four green days, which obligated half of the cars to stay at home, helped a hand but if Beijing will be able to make a real change by summer 2008, when it hosts the Olympic games, remains a question. China is truly amazing, a too crazy and intense experience to put into words!
I was writing now from Xian, a former capital of China, very different to Beijing but also beautiful! Tomorrow we hit the road again!

A transit through Mongolia

We left Russia with style. In Ulan Ude, capital of Buryatia, my mobile phone being connected to ' Far East' or passing the 'Pacific Bank' already tried to make us aware off where we were. East Asia! After a good time in the temple with making pozi (yes, quite difficult so we mostly helped with dishes) and with some words of Mongolian in our pockets we headed south. After a ride with a small but very quick bus we experienced a new way of hitchhiking. While waiting along the road we did not raise our hands and Carina said " I don't know if hitchhiking works this way, picking out a car you want to go with and wait for it to pass and stop!" Indeed, from that bus we saw a jeep with 'foreigners' (a rarety in Russia) with a mark from Lisboa to Vladivostok and an Italian flag. We wanted to meet them ...though driving slowly they unfortunately passed us. They, because it was a team! A man on a motorcycle and a women alone in the big jeep. We started to hitch when to our surprise the car and motorcycle came our way, ... for gas ... . With a big smile we spoke to the man and then a hitchhiker miracle happened! We got a ride to Mongolia on a motorcycle. We switched several times between the car, driven by Marina, a Ukranian women living and working in Italy, and the motorcycle driven by Antonio, an Italia engineer in his fifties. It was truly great and I think for the first time I understand why people drive motorcycles, because I did not when driving on crowded big roads in Belgium for instance. The smell of the lands, indescribably beautiful, was really nice. We camped with them at the border (which just closed 15 minutes before we arrived), enjoyed Italian food, cheese and even wine. The first place where we met with some camels we stopped and went for a visit to a ger (jurta in Russian) and met with a truly beautiful family. A young couple with four children. The mother was only 25! The wild horses and other herds with their sheperds, the gers in the middle of 'nowhere', the mountains and vallies ... yes, yes ...what a joy. By the evening Antonio and Marina dropped us in the middle of Ulaan Baator, a true capital city. For the first time we strolled the streets with an address of a youth hostel in our hands. The beds, showers, equipped kitchen and plenty of travellers at Golden Gobi were a welcome gift and a surprising experience. After all the Russian I was somehow not prepared to speak suddenly in Spanish, French and English at the same time. The city architecture and the cyrillic used in Mongolia gave a feeling of slow transition to us. A transit to China because due to our transit visa we had little time to explore this vast country. By being in a youth hostel and being bound by limited time we also became different travellers. Mongolia was very cheap but in a way touristic. As a foreigner you can't hire a car for example without a driver (maybe because the roads do not exist) but this means that exploring the country is done by going on a tour, and that is what the travellers do. Some go 5 weeks from one tour to the other. I felt also a bit strange when we entered a national park the second day (by a very full local bus) and saw how nature was covered with hotels or ger-camps. Also here no detailed maps available for exploration on your own. But once we left the village and hotels behind us we had a vally, a cold river and the mountains almost just for us. That day we climed to a random top and camped there with a marvellous view. An encounter with a snake that climbed into Carina's unpacked sleepingbag made us decide to really put up our tent. When we drove back to Ulaan Baator the next day with a french couple we found out that the snake was poisonous! A la limite we managed to buy a trainticket to get into China just before our visa expired for the next night. Out of necessity I saw the Mongolian part of Gobi desert by night. Every time I fell asleep I was dreaming about landscapes and woke up again to look ouside from my train-bed. I saw three trees, some houses, a couple of gers, a sea-like landscape and millions of stars. Disregarding advice to close the window everything was covered with sand by the morning ... and suddenly we were in China! It was hard to believe!

Some impressions on Russia

Russia was for me a place I never even tried to have an image of, Siberia was big and cold. Russians were related to the Antwerp based mafia and its politics which gave an uncomfortable feeling. Halfway the road, while washing myself in one of the beautiful lakes with soft wind from the steppes blowing I said to Carina “I love Siberia”. Though often not being able to understand or to find any logic in what I saw, Russia’s simplicity touched me.

Colourful life?
From Ukraine throughout Russia the wooden village houses are painted in the most beautiful colours. Shaped like art and brightly coloured windows reflect maybe a view on life. If you would take away the colours of the many flowers, fruits, vegetables and houses this land would be very dark and hard. Several times I tried to imagine life in winter here, but I belief I have to come back for that. Though the villages are clearly dying and literally falling apart you see smiling faces and people living their life, making the best of it. My respect for all those millions of Russians living in such hard conditions and keeping their heart warm. One third of Russians is living below poverty line, there is hardly any middle class and the difference between surprisingly new and fancy cities like for example Novosibirsk and deserted village is enormous. Of course everything is very relative, I would not say Russian cities are beautiful, marks of the glory from the past are more visible then any effort for renovation or reconstruction. My conclusion for the life in Russia would be grey. This in vast contrast with my feeling about its nature!

3000 horizons
I can’t count the beautiful views I have seen throughout our journey through Russia. The space was the first thing that caught my eye. I felt I was healing my eyes from the years of working behind the computer. The most beautiful, unfortunately indescribable, places were the road from Kurgan to Omsk where we went around Kazachstan and Tuva Republic which you reach after passing amazingly beautiful mountain road. At that moment I was very thankful we were driving a slow Camaz, giving us the time to see every flower of the ‘botanical garden’. Driving through this huge country which is so diverse felt really right. And especially after taking two trains I appreciate a lot the almost 360 degrees view cars and trucks give you. Sometimes it was like seeing an enormous bouquet of field flowers. The land and not to forget the sky, being different in every other window of the car, sometimes really gave me this feeling that my heart stopped beating. We saw rain kilometers away, like seeing it is raining in Antwerp from our garden in Hove, we saw lightening, rainbows and sunbeams.

On roads, cars and drivers
I was warned about the quality of the roads in Russia but that knowledge was nothing compared to the experience and not to forget the jokes about it. Often a driver would say with some proud that this is the worst road in Russia. And indeed jumping to all sides in the cabin of a Camaz became a very common thing to us. We go to Mongolia before the hardest part from Chita to Vladivostok but drove enough off the road through fields and mud to show our respect to Russian drivers. Ideas for ngo work for improving conditions and facilities for truck drivers crossed my mind. There are certain phenomena which are ‘not seen in Europe’. For example thousands of people buy cars in Japan to earn roughly 5000 dollars in ten days. For the trip through Russia they tape the cars with all possible means, build shields and staple cars one on another. The quality of those cars, which are to be sold as ‘new’ cars, is a question. It did survive but for what invisible cost? We also saw several cars or trucks which missed the road or cars seemingly completely broken from an accident without windows still driving. Next to this misfortune I was often confronted with the enormous skills of Russians to fix cars. We would encounter many bridges to put your car on to repair it, something I believe in Belgium you have to visit a repair center for (and pay). In Russia most of the people know how to repair a car. They help father or the first car or motorcycle they get is like ‘a one way ticket to dacha (summerhouse). Learning by doing and out of necessecity. The stories of truck drivers about driving by minus 50 and cars breaking down also showed the need for helping one another. And the roads which are federal responsibility, well as the saying goes ‘Russians don’t build roads, they build cars that can go everywhere’. We learned a lot about Waz jeeps, Camaz Nefas (a truck for bringing groups into forests through rivers) and my still favourite Lada. Also one advice: don’t trust the signs along the road. We frequently encountered signs that after five minutes drive showed an extra 40 km, or signs about bumps would remain for the road builders know the bumps even though repaired would come back. Russian roads also are a daily venue for many ‘merchands’: children, elderly people, forest people selling all kinds of goods. Carina once told me to start making a list of the things you can buy like fish and kites but shortly after she said so everything became on sale from floating water toys to guns and bicycles. You can also buy checks from men seemingly doing exercises along the road. The road market has a copy-logic, cars close to each other dispose their similar goods often in exact the same way and how it makes a living I don’t know, I hardly saw anyone buying there.
After so many kilometers of Russian road I can only say it did not bore me.

Traveling in time
Something new or different from air-travel is the experience of different time zones. Russia has eleven time zones, we passed several of them. As such time became an uncertainty, confused by differences between maps and realities, drivers using their own time, trains using Moscow time we became travelers through time. In the beginning we felt the loss of time by going to the East. From my observations of the sun some questions arose. Maybe those with mathematical brains are interested to find some answers. When for example ( in more abstract terms) we drove per day 600 km towards the east, let’s say on 50 degrees North, how much hours of sun did we loose along the way? The sun was moving in exact opposite direction then us. Was it maybe that of every hour of sun we only saw half an hour? Time became also visible in the evening when we could see light and sunset in the mirror while the front window would give darkness. We saw sun and moon together.

Stories of the road
Some of our experiences became stories like how I found something I forgot in Belgium. Months ago Carina discovered my Scarabee in Tallinn (a typical blue bug jewel from Egypt), back then she mentioned to take it along as we both got it as gift from our mothers. I forgot mine at home but when I walked into the river Yenisey at the mark of the center of Asia in Kyzyl I found one at my feet. Interesting sign? Or the time we hitched a truck saying we are traveling around the world, the old man behind the wheel would answer “I did the same but in a submarine in 1967 at times of the Cuban crisis”. Was it again a coincidence we were singing Yellow Submarine just before he stopped?

One month of traveling

The sun shines, it is 25 degrees and I sit peacefully behind a computer in the Central Library of Ulan Ude, our last Russian city. It has been such a full month, a month I could never have imagined. Some facts: we reached this place with 56 rides and 3 trains. Based on signs and drivers’ wisdom we calculated that we covered 9940 km in 21 days on the road. Our route went as following: Tallinn, Kaunas, Minsk, Cherkasy, Mehedovka, Khorol, Voronezh, Samara, Ufa, Kurgan, Omsk, Novosibirsk, Abakan, Kyzyl, Chadaan, Kyzyl, Kurgana (Petropavlovka), Khansk, Irkutsk, Ulan Ude. Tomorrow we will head towards Mongolia.

But now back to where I left you last time.

From Novosibirsk we took a 24 hour train south to Abakan, a sideway to an ethnic festival we had heard of in Kurgan. We managed to get a cheap platskart place which means a bed in a wagon with some 60 places, two nights of accommodation and a relative amount of rest and constant free access to hot water for our usual porridge, mash potato and noodles meals. In Abakan we hitch a car early in the morning, again a Camaz, which we load with building materials in a nearby little village. Our search for fresh milk is without results. After crossing the mountains we enter another world, this time next to the enormous statue marking the border with Tuva Republic we also saw some clear other signs of this new place, this new seemingly undiscovered paradise. A natural border of good weather clouds, a drastically changing landscape and the Asian stone drake statues together with the Asian faces of the forest people selling berries show off against the typical Russian Siberian views. Tired but with open eyes we reach Kyzyl late at night and stay at Valody’s place, our kind driver. The joy of the shower and the real beds is great. Next day we manage our business in Kyzyl which meant still trying to get our registration of our immigration done. A true, and continuing, hassle which was without success in Voronezh where some hotels for example simply do not take foreigners. In Kyzyl we are also unsuccessful but the ‘luck’ with our Mongolian visa compensated this. Being so close to Mongolia we were happily surprised that there was a consulate in Kyzyl, which was not the case in Novosibirsk (4th biggest city of Russia). The civil servant even managed to get it done in a couple of hours. But nothing goes just like that! He asked for our gratitude, three times, so not knowing what to do we add some money to our visa costs. He returns it. We ask Valody’s advice. “Too little” he said. When returning to the consulate to pick up the visa we decide to ask how much his gratitude costs, not knowing how to deal with corruption. His embarrassment led to us leaving without paying anything extra but unfortunately we also did not have exactly what we dreamed of. We got a 5 day transit visa and the information that even being so close to Mongolia we had to go via Ulan Ude as Tuva did not have any international border making it not possible to cross for persons from third countries. Anyway very happy having done our ‘business’, we leave from Kyzyl direction festival in the afternoon and drive through marvelous landscape. A taste of Mongolia! When dropped at a road-police post we make some fun with them. They helped us to get a ride to Chadaan, showed us hashes being the currency of Tuva and advising us to cross the border to Mongolia illegally.
The 4 day festival in Ustuu-Huree is really great. We camp along the shores of the river between nice smelling trees and friendly guarded by raptors who come very close to show their beauty. Amongst great people we enjoy the Russian and Tuvian ethnic music. The typical throat singing is truly new and amazing. The feeling of experiencing this ‘exotic’ cultures at the spot itself instead of at Sfinx or Helsinki World Village is great. We were some of the few ‘outsiders’ on this festival. Tuva really impressed us and raised our interest. Already very soon we realized we were witnessing a smooth mix and a clash of two cultures in the same time. The festival contributed to preserve and honouring the Buddhist culture of Tuva which had been repressed by the Soviets. I feel we witness an important part of a strive for independence and cultural identity. A theater play and the speeches accompanying the celebrations clearly ask for tolerance and respect. The music was truly beautiful and I liked the simplicity of the way this free festival was organized. We also witnessed a ceremony of Lama’s at a newly build Stupa, the finish of a horse race of children going 40 km without saddles and a real wrestling competition. The fact that we experienced this with local people instead of tourists made it feel very ‘real’.
After the festival the car of the disaster medicine took us back to Kyzyl, another slow Camaz brought us back close to Abakan. We were on the way to a community of one of the artists we met in Chadaan. The village Petropavlovka was truly strange. Instead of being one of those Siberian villages slowly dying this village was alive, new houses build, young people and esoteric buildings and cultural places. A sharp contrast to other villages where the attempts of the Soviets to create a cultural place is only visible in the form of ruins. That the image of young Jezus-like man had something to do with this strange atmosphere became soon clear but we were left with a feeling of not-understanding until we visited the house of some Germans. The village is the heart of the cult of Vissarion who is writing the last testament and emphasizes the power of survival of Siberians. While many people feel very attracted to this place and person, who gives speeches all over the world, we felt ill at that place. We also met there with Gert from Antwerp who lives there already for seven years. His explanation about the way of living of the village was “we try to reproduce positive energy and we try to filter negative energy”. They live as much as possible from their own gardens and focus on handicrafts. To me it felt a bit like a new version of the Truman Show. However the attention on children’s creativity and time for talking were very nice features of this village. At Gert’s place we also experienced a real Russian banya. After two days we were happy to leave and to continue our travel to the East. This sideway however had more surprises for us. We ended up on empty roads, roads without asphalt through Siberian taiga. With a record amount of cars, some time with Russian railroad workers and playing games on empty crossroads in the middle of nowhere, we reached the main road again in the evening. Russian hospitality which I haven’t mentioned enough brought us into the dacha of a very nice family where we received food, a shower and a very warm welcome. On the way to Kansk we slept in the fields were I experienced the second attack of Siberian mosquitos, luckily the many bites only were itching for a short while. Kansk is a true example of Russian roads! A young soldier decided to help us to get on the road to Irkutsk, also not knowing that the ring around Kansk leads the traffic through unpaved forests roads. Also later on we drive through sandy roads, going from one side of the road to the other. It is absurd to think that this is a highway. Concepts like km/hour or mappy.com seem useless. In the rain we reach to a small town called Nizhneudinsk with a brand new Lada, almost unrecognizable! We stay at a great special place of an artist. Carina had been there last year and also now we got the special travelers house for us. Aleksey is an extreme traveler and guide, going into taiga and rafting on the wild Russian rivers. Again maybe a place to return to! Next day we stop close to Irkutsk and get to cook for the first time on a fire. Mmmmm I enjoy that so much! A big thunderstorm in the morning gave us some extra hours of sleep, hardly needed! We become a bit tired, often leaving very early and making long days but with great feelings of satisfaction. Irkutsk gives us a break from the road where we have access to fruit and milk products and this time also a successful possibility for getting our registration done. Our visit to Tuva continues to lead us. Via a visit to a youth hostel run by a girl we met on the festival we end up at a nice apartment of a friend of hers. Laundry, a shower and a real bed give again great pleasure but it was Natasha’s care and friendly communication which made this stay very nice. With the train we reach Baikal Lake, a lake as big as Belgium. Unfortunately the grey sky covers the mountains and soon it began to rain. With only having touched the water with our feet we decide to go on with our driver to Ulan Ude. After driving through the end of the city and knocking at the door of the male Datsan (Buddhist temple) we reach the only female Datsan in Russia and are warmly welcomed there. We get another place to stay for the night! They could so easily have said no, because it is not a usual place for people to ask for accommodation. After posting this we will go and help them to make Pozi, a traditional Buryat dish.

From Europe to Asia

After just a few days of travelling we stayed for a while in the heart of Ukraine. While visiting local libraries for internet facilities we were invited to speak about our trip. About 30 citizens of Cherkasy and a local journalist listened to us posed many questions and started to dream. By train we went to a very small village called Mehedovka were Carina's father grew up to work in the garden, eat peaches and abricots and visited relatives. A real into the field experience. Since we left Cherkasy we left showers and 'normal' toilets behind us. We drove old but very good Soviet bicycles, enjoyed the river and fresh local traditional food. I started to speak my first Russian words.
Leaving a village is a different thing than leaving a city (also not always easy), we walked for four hours with only a few cars, going to the next crossing or field, passing us. Carina's father and aunt were with us and the bikes also helped to carry our backpacks (about 40 kilo all together). Finally we jumped unto and old bus to Zolotonozho and still made it to the big road by the evening. Those days in Ukraine were really lovely. Our last long ride was a Polish man who drove us through the city of Kharkiv, the former capital of Ukraine, a mix of 80 percent lost glory and 20 percent typical modern big city (like all similar shops). The trams and busses I saw there are so old and broken, I even had not seen such things in a tram museum!
On the 17th of July we crossed the Russian border. A Russian family made a big trip through Russia not going straight to their destination Tula by dropping us off in Voronezh. Faces and surroundings kind off touched me. Not the most nice place. But also tiredness grapped me. That morning a dog woke us up in our tent in the fields. After he left we packed our stuff, afraid he would go and get the other dogs of the nearby houses. WE walked towards the road with a beautiful sun. Only for this you would get up even when feeling tired. We were just finishing our breakfast when two people were discussing the weather at the busstop. Carina translated to me that they were wondering if that white cloud would give rain today. I did not understood, I saw only dark grey when I looked behind. Five minutes later a terrible rainstorm embraced us, we luckily timely reached the busstation were we realised it was only 6.15 in the morning. Thank you for waking us dog! Everything would have been really wet and full of mud ...
From then onwards we are fully on the road. We spent the night at the trainstation in Voronezh after encountering a typical Russian thing, many hotels do not take foreigners and it was too late to get out of the city again. No good trains to take us so a minibus brings us early morning out of the city. Ahead of us a huge space ...Russia ...Siberia ...having no idea were we would get that day. With a great 'wash' stop at a river and catching a couple of rides we do get a ride with our first Camaz, Russian truck. A truck we will get to know quite well. The road to Saratov is not the best one ... but Russia becomes more and more beautiful. Thinking about the road to Samara we consider the idea of a taking a train. Our kind driver finds out there is a night train at 22.46 ... Saratov is still far ahead of us at 19.30. With the experience of the previous night we would not like to get again to spend the night at the train station. But nothing is sure on the road. With a short brokedown of the truck we reach Saratov with a smile and portion of adrenaline at 22.15 ...I told Carina before if we do not reach city at 22.15 we should stay before the city to camp. But we got there, it is to say at the border of the city. We jump from the truck into a taxi who understandsa our situation and drives us as quick as possible. Nothiong sure yet! Long ques at the ticket offices ... if there was not a kind lady at the administration desk and we would not have ran through the station we would have missed it ... You can imagine what a joy we felt sitting in our own coupe of a Russian train ... we have beds and would arrive at 8.00 in the morning.
In Samara we use the same technique, taking a bus out of city that would bring us to the road to Ufa which we reach by 18th evening. We passed through the muslim republic Tatarstan which has its own alphabet and ethnic traditions. The driver of our third Camaz is really very kind, going to a far away place in northern Siberia. He had for example been driving in minus 45 degrees, tolds us a lot about his different life experiences and stories of the road. We slowly get into the tough but interesting life of truck drivers. He is almost a hero when helping to pull out a new bus that went off the road and caused a hilarious view on two rows of cars crossing the field instead of waiting. We camp next to his truck and wake up early to drive with him a full day to Kurgan. We cross the Ural mountains, the statue that marks the border between Europe and Asia to end up near the first Siberian city. Here we met for the first time two other travellers coming from the student city Tomsk, we camp with them in the fields accross a large truck stop called the Siberian gate. All the places we stop for coffee or to eat are kind of similar, we definitely are a rarity among the truck drivers audience. Also toilets become, let's say more and more 'Russian'. Stopping for food or a drink starts to depend on the drivers, we start to live like them ...which for example also means to live according to their time. Some continue to live at Moscow time others adjust to local time. And we? I don't know, time became an uncertainty and something that does not really matters. We crossed some time zones without knowing, others that are on the map seem not to exist in reality.
I am writing now from Novosibirsk but have to go, how I get here will be for later ... so many thoughts ... and only more new experiences will come on top ...

... truly on the road?

I am slowly becoming aware of my actions and while my feelings and thoughts have travelled already many thousands of different roads ...physically I made it from Tallinn (Estonia) to Cherkasy (Ukraine)!

13 rides, all kinds of kind drivers and from a rainy night in our tent in Lithuania to appartments from babouchkas and aunts ... the road, the road ... on the 10th of July we travelled more then 800 kilometers in 12 hours ... drivers would stop before raising our hands; coffee, ice cream and lunch were given to us ... No need to reach at any point, no given time to be present ... I feel I recieved a most precious gift ... TIME.

We spent a truly nice day in Minsk with Alex (a Belarusian student in Tallinn). The last dicatorship in Europe, felt by its people in many ways, no competition, slightly changed soviet symbols are on every corner, the 'for Belarus', 'for Lukashenko' propaganda is big and colourful according to advertisement strategies ... To much attention for a Lenin statue in front of an unpowerful parliament provokes distrust by the guard ... last protests in March 2006 were brutally repressed, internet is not an easily accessible freedom ...and while prices rise, with an average salary of 300 dollar, vodka gets cheaper ...
We left this 'socialist country' but its enormously beautiful open spaces continued after the Ukrainian border and many warm memories came when I crossed the river Desna. I travelled for several days on rafts on that river when I was the first time in Ukraine in September 2004 and still have very good friends from that time! Coming from Gomel (Berlarus) we passed close to the Tsjernobil area, so not a good place to stay ... the contamination is still very present, people are still suffering from the disaster ... Small villages, colourful houses, waterwells and goose ... how could those people who sell fruit and vegetables from gardens and forests along the road be helped with foreign aid? Would I be able to stand alone along a road for a full day without anything to read? ... Russian language becomes familiar, I slowly start to master the new alphabet, the cyrillic and try hard to pronounce the new sounds. I accept the fact that when travelling the world I am not able to communicate everywhere in many words, I am present in silence and observations but I often do think and would like to shout ... learn languages and teach languages ... knowing that a child learns them best before it is nine.

Even my own experience is yet not enough to make me fully aware of what is happening ... I made it to Ukraine in three days with 26 euro and 2 dollar (21 euro for the Belarusian visa), We escaped from tourist areas, lived with local people, tasted local food like borsht, pure pig fat and home made cakes ... and I saw, I saw a lot ... millions of sunflowers smiling, faces of young and old, churches from the in- and outside ...

We currently live at the lake, or Cherkasy Sea, and await Carina's father who is arriving tomorrow to go to a small village ... on 15th of July we have entrance tickets to Russia ...