A City on the Go: Hong Kong

 “[A] barren island with hardly a house upon it!”—Lord Palmerston’s description of Hong Kong in 1898 as he condemned England’s Superintendent of Trade for negotiating a 99-year lease of the area to end the Opium Wars.

I had last been in Hong Kong in 2005, and at that time saw the major sights.  On this visit, I was able to skip the sights and see the city.

And what a city it is!  Hong Kong consists of an area on the mainland of China, with a concentration of people in the Kowloon area, and a buffer area between Kowloon and the rest of China known as the “New Territories.” Also part of Hong Kong, across the harbor from Kowloon, is Hong Kong Island, as well as a number of other islands, including Latau (where the airport is located) and Lamma (more on this island later).

The skyscrapers and shopping meccas that we think of when we picture Hong Kong are primarily concentrated in Kowloon and Hong Kong Island, facing one another across Victoria Harbor. While bridges and tunnels connect the two, a primary access point is the storied Star Ferry, which runs constantly throughout the day shuttling people inexpensively and quickly between the two.

We were fortunate to be docked next to the ferry terminal in Kowloon, and so our first act on arrival was to catch the ferry to HK Island, and spend the day exploring that dense concentration of buildings and life, via the hop-on-hop-off bus.  This island is pretty much the business side of HK, containing the financial district and government offices (including a high-rise tower devoted to the Hong Kong’s Immigration authority—sorry I can’t help but notice).  It also is the side where the picturesque bays and beaches can be found, as well as a huge amusement park and a horse racing track that doubles as a sports venue.

We then returned by ferry to Kowloon, for a dim sum lunch and an exploration of this side of the city.  Kowloon is pretty much the shopping side of HK, and we were fascinated by the intensity of the shopping.  Ranging from street markets to designer shops to shopping malls, Hong Kong has something for every taste. 

The terminal where we were docked is actually a huge shopping mall, so we could not help but walk through it to get anywhere else.  What I found fascinating was that it was divided into areas, so that one area was all devoted to, say, electronics, while another to men’s clothing, and another to children’s products.  The latter was particularly striking in that, while it had the obligatory ToysRUs, most of the stores were high-end clothing shops for children. Why would someone spend the money for a Roberto Cavalli or Stella McCartney outfit for someone who will grow out of it in a few months?  But these stores seem to be thriving.

Out on the shopping streets, I couldn’t help but notice how many people were dragging around wheeled luggage.  Surely they weren’t all buying bags?  No—they

brought these empty bags to fill with the acquisitions from this shopping trip.

As it was explained to me, Hong Kong has no sales tax, and the goods available are of better quality and better prices than generally can be obtained on the mainland, so many people trek to HK for the shopping. 

Our first day ended at the promenade overlooking the bay in Kowloon, as we joined thousands of others lined up along the promenade, on outdoor stairs, and anywhere else they could fit to watch the nightly light show.  Every evening at 8:00 pm, buildings along both sides of the harbor participate in a show whereby the buildings’ lights change colors and “dance,” and spotlights are aimed from one side to the other.  Even boats passing in the harbor get in on the action, shining their own lights as part of the show.  Music is played to accompany the changing lights, and a narration is broadcast (in Mandarin, so I couldn’t understand any of it).  It’s a giant, 13-minute party for whoever is in sight.

 The next day was Easter Sunday, but as only about 10% of Hong Kong residents are Christian, it was pretty much just an ordinary weekend day in Hong Kong.  We spent it by catching a boat over to Lamma Island, one of the many smaller islands that are part of Hong Kong.  This one is unique, in that there are no motorized vehicles on it, and yet it is a popular day outing for the city’s residents, as it is an easy boat trip to hard-to-find greenery and a simple setting.

Ours was one of the first boats to arrive at Lamma Island, and we took the opportunity to stroll.  There is a footpath that circles the island, but the main attraction is a series of open-air, waterfront seafood restaurants.  The harbor contains a number of fish farms, and each restaurant has a tank filled with live fish and shellfish waiting to be sacrificed to a meal. 

There seemed as many dogs as humans on the island—all well-groomed and mostly purebred.  It seems that Lamma Island is popular among dog owners, who bring their pets over for the day, and keep them with them while they eat.  One table was filled with people holding schnauzers, while others held other small breeds.  The owners of the restaurants, who mostly live above the restaurants, all seemed to have larger dogs sunning themselves while their owners went about their cooking.

For our part, we feasted on a dozen varieties of seafood, served family-style on a huge lazy susan to about 8 of us.  The highlight was a fish of unkown name that was melt-in-the mouth delicious. 

After lunch, we returned to Hong Kong Island to explore Stanley Market, a famous street market filled with stand after stand of all manner of goods.  Afterward, we hung about the town square in Stanley Park and watched children and dogs play which their parents and owners hovered nearby at restaurants and coffee shops.  It was the kind of scene played in prosperous cities all over the world on a pleasant weekend day.

Next up:  China

The Elephant in the Room: Vietnam Four Decades After the War

“All men are created equal; they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights; among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”—the first lines of the Vietnamese Declaration of Independence, issued on September 2, 1945.  Sound familiar?

Journalist John Pilger said in 1978, “I used to see Vietnam as a war rather than a country.”  I think he was speaking for many of us in my generation of Americans.  The key here is “used to.”  The sense I have after several days in Vietnam is that the country is trying very hard, and rather successfully, to put the decades of war on its soil well into the past.  For many stops in Asia, we have received brief tutorials on local etiquette.  For Vietnam, that included “don’t mention the war unless they do.”

This could be because the friendly Vietnamese people didn’t want to discomfit the visiting former enemy. It could be that they’d just as soon forget it all and move forward. Or it could be the fact that 60% of the population is under age 25, meaning that not only were the majority not yet born at the time of the war, but their parents likely were at most young children at the time of the U.S. involvement. Surveys of this young population group in Vietnam have shown that as many as 80% of them have no interest in knowing the country’s history.  Is that youth, or is it an urge to get on with the business of building a thriving nation?

Ho Chi Minh City, aka Saigon

Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) is still called Saigon by its residents. I am told that it is only called HCMC by the newspapers or when you are dealing with the government.

I traversed the four main districts of Saigon by “cylco,” a one-passenger pedicab operated by a man pedaling a three-wheeled cycle, with the seat in front.   Most of the drivers seemed to be older—some quite elderly—yet they readily pedaled these cycloes for lengthy periods. I was part of a “motorcade” of about a dozen such contraptions, one of which was occupied by a guide who, through a walkie-talkie, provided a narration.

As we rode through Saigon, we saw such sites as the French-era post office designed by Mr. Eiffel (of Eiffel Tower fame), the Opera House, the War Remnants Museum (formerly called the War Crimes Museum, until Americans starting coming as tourists, though our guide conveniently did not mention this), and Reunification Palace.

It was this last site where our guide could no longer ignore the war. Once the site of the French governor’s residence, it became the residence of Vietnam’s first president after French occupation, and was named Independence Palace. Then, after the fall of Saigon, it was re-named Reunification Palace and became a museum.  Sitting in front of it are the North Vietnamese tanks that famously crashed through the gates of the Palace on April 30, 1975, thus defeating South Vietnam and ending the war. This edifice could hardly be pointed out without mentioning that bit of history.

The most fascinating part of Saigon was simply seeing day-to-day life.  Traffic is massive, even in the middle of the day. There seem to be few traffic rules—red lights exist, but are obeyed only at a few particularly busy intersections.  The road is shared by cars, trucks, pedicabs, bicycles, and a vast sea of motor scooters.  I am told that, in this city of 10 million people, there are 7 million motor scooters.  And I’d swear they were all in downtown Saigon that day.  And many of them carried multiple people and/or large loads of cargo.  One person got a photo of two people on a scooter carrying a full-height refrigerator.

Crossing a street in Saigon is an art.  Essentially, you just go at an even pace and trust that traffic will swerve around you.  And it does.  The biggest mistake you can make is to stop.  The drivers seem to know how to gauge your pace and adjust accordingly.

Horns are sounded, but not in an aggressive way. Instead, the horn is used gently to make someone aware of one’s presence. 

While driving in the western world is sometimes used as an act of dominance, driving in Vietnam seems more an act of cooperation.

As is true everywhere else we went in Asia, shop fronts open fully onto the street, and the street, sidewalk, and shops all seem to merge into one activity. People shop for food every day, so that fresh fish, produce, and meat are sold all over, so that people can pick up their supplies on the way home. 

I was struck by how clean Saigon was for a city of 10 million.  Yes, there was trash around the riverfront, particularly near abandoned-looking squatter shanties, but there was virtually no litter in other parts of the city, prosperous and poor.

And Saigon is building.  Skyscrapers abound—often right next to older buildings—and there is a growing “Wall Street” financial district.  Vietnam is still a communist country, but it loosened the leash on private ownership some time ago, and entrepreneurship abounds today.

Hue

After a couple of days in Saigon, our ship moved north to Chan May, the jumping-off point to go inland to the ancient city of Hue.

This is where the taboo on discussing the war seemed oddest.  I spend much of the day at the Imperial Palace and Citadel, with a 24-year-old guide who was able to detail the 300+ years of the Palace as the center of the capital of the Nguyen dynasty and the fall of the dynasty to French rule.  Yet, not a word was mentioned about the ferocious fighting that took place here, particularly during the Tet offensive of 1968, nor of the very visible damage to several of the structures that resulted (and most certainly not of the many deaths that resulted).

One of the odder sights in Hue is the tomb of Tu Duc, one of the last emperors of Vietnam.  It is quite elaborate, and a lovely park where families come to picnic. It’s just that Tu Duc’s body is not here, and never has been.  Fearing that his body would be desecrated by his enemies, much as Tu’s ancestors had desecrated their ancestors’ bodies, his body was buried elsewhere in secret.  To this day, no one knows where he was buried, particularly as the 2,000 men who buried him were all immediately beheaded so that they could never reveal the secret.

Ha Long Bay

For our last day in Vietnam, I had the choice of a long bus trip to Hanoi, or taking a leisurely junk trip around beautiful Ha Long Bay.  Given the previous day’s long jaunt to Hue, I opted for the gorgeous bay.

Despite the rainy day (which, by the way, is the first rainy day in port I’ve had on this trip), the boat trip was wonderful.  The legendary granite formations around the bay lived up to their fabulous reputation. In many ways, the rain made it all the better, as it showed the outcroppings in a variety of lights and shades.  It was a lovely way to say farewell to the surprisingly hospitable nation of Vietnam.

Next up:  Hong Kong

Breathtaking: Angkor Wat

“If our people can build Angkor Wat they can do anything.” Dennis Bloodworth, Observer, 1/20/80

The car came to a stop a mile or so down a country lane.  “Stay on the path—there are still a lot of land mines in the wooded areas.”

“Yes, the artist from whom I bought a watercolor at the craft market last night gave the same caution. He lost both his parents—and an arm—to a land mine when they were trying to clear some land for farming.”

“Yes, there are many such people in Cambodia. Later you will hear a band whose members are all missing a limb or more because of the mines left from the civil war.”

So, here were Beth, our soft-spoken guide Dey, and I strolling down a dirt lane in the midst of Cambodia early in the morning.  Shaded by thick foliage, the lane seemed in the middle of nowhere. The only other signs of life were a squawking bird and a young woman on a bicycle, clearly on her way to work some 4 miles away in Siem Reap.  The sun was in front of us, but never in our eyes, and the temperature surprisingly mild.

After about 15 minutes of this magical peace, we were confronted by a partially crumbling structure hugged by a kapok tree growing around it.  It was the north gate to Ta Prohm, the often-photographed 12^th century temple used in the movie Lara Croft, Tomb Raider.  But the gate gave more than a hint of the temple to come.  With carvings of the face of the king responsible for its building on each of its four sides, it seemed from one perspective to be welcoming, from another to be fierce and forbidding, and from the other two perspectives wise or worrying.

We moved on to the temple itself, and had our first encounter of the day with other people—another small group also exploring this temple.

Beyond Ta Prohm, we proceeded to several other early temples built by the same king, Jayavarman VII (or J-7 as we came to know him).  J-7 was a bit eclectic in his religious beliefs, embracing a mix of Hinduism and Buddhism.  The many intricate decorations on his structures reflected this mix.

Two kings later, however, a different perspective took hold, as Jayavarman VII (J-8) was fiercely Hindu and ordered all the Buddhist images to be removed or obliterated.  This was often done roughly, with a face obliterated here, and a figure re-carved there.  They did not get all the Buddhist figures, though, and thus one “game” to play here is to find the hidden Buddhist figures that survive today.

In their time, most if not all of these structures were bedecked with gold and gems, designed to catch and reflect light in just the right way. None of this survives today, as looters over the years removed and sold these valuable items.

By the time we finished exploring these temples, the midday heat was setting in, and so our car magically re-appeared and took us back to our hotel for the local equivalent of a siesta.

We were barely revived when Dey returned at 2:30 to take us back out for more exploration.  This time, we were bound for Angkor Thom, a substantial structure in the sprawling complex that is the Angkor Wat Archaeological Park.  Another of J-7’s building projects, this actually was the king’s own city.  Unlike other structures in the park, the sculptures and bas reliefs in and on this temple portrayed not religion but the everyday life of the people. At its center was Bayon, a temple of breathtaking complexity and ingenuity.

While the temple may have shown regular people, they were not part of the city—its inhabitants were limited to the king, his wife, his 1,000 concubines, his advisors and officers, and his teacher.  Yes, educators were honored and revered in this culture, where every temple includes at least one library.

Unfortunately, the city was abandoned sometime in the 1600s, with the jungle growing up around it and the water that fed the foundation of these structures gone dry.  By the time it was re-discovered, it was in bad shape.  There have been many efforts to restore it, some well-intended but doing more harm than good, and now the effort has been embraced in earnest and is quite active.

Our day of exploring temples ended with a ride on a dragon boat on Angkor Thom’s moat as we watched the sun set and enjoyed a cold beverage.

Next day started with our guide picking us up at 5:00 am.  Leading us through the darkness by flashlight, he invited us to sit on a stone wall.  Initially our only company was a yellow dog and a few headlights on the road behind us, but gradually the number of headlights grew, vendors started setting up tents a ways behind us, and people started joining us on the wall.

We could see people with flashlights streaming across the causeway into the temple, but Dey just said “wait.”  As the first bits of light came into the sky, the picture started painting itself. We were sitting on a wall surrounding a moat, across which we could start to see the spires of the infamous Angkor Wat.  The light slowly became brighter, and the temple showed itself as something at once mystical and solid.  And, eventually, a bright orb appeared between two of the spires.  The sun had risen.

Like so many ancient structures around the world, Angkor Wat was built based on astronomy.  At the equinoxes and solstices, the sun rises just behind the four main doors of the temple.  At the spring equinox, it rises exactly above the middle spire.  Because we were there two days before the equinox, it rose just to the right of the spire, and to the left of the next spire.

Awe-inspiring.

Following that orb, we then crossed the moat to explore Angkor Wat for ourselves. We then saw why so may people had streamed into the complex.  In front of the temple was a pond, and the sun and the temple were reflected in the pond.  But rather than have us stand for an hour in a crowd, Dey found us a comfortable seat where we could see the rise, but got us in in time to see the reflection.  Perfect!

Angkor Wat itself is in much better shape than its neighbor, Angkor Thom, primarily because it was never really abandoned—people continued to live there through the centuries.  Also, its moat never dried up, and the moat is an important part of the architecture that holds the structures in place.

Nevertheless, Angkor Wat has seen its share of human damage.  Like the other temples, it has been looted of gold, jewels, and some of the carvings.  It came under U.S. bombing during the Vietnam War, and sustained some damage from the bombs. During the Khmer Rouge period, it was used as a prison, and as a site for some fighting, so bullet holes can be found in it.  And well-intended early efforts at restoration did more damage than good.  But today it is in surprisingly good shape, with well-funded efforts of restoration showing success.

The temple itself is rife with intricate carvings, bas reliefs, structures inside of structures, and such details as windows that are arrayed so as to show the shadow of the spires in their frames. 

It is almost beyond description—all I can say is go there and see it for yourself.

Angkor Wat is pictured on the Cambodian flag. That is how important it is to this nation, one of the poorest on earth. The average wage of a Cambodian worker is about $4-5 a day, or barely more than $1,000 per year. The life we saw in Sihanoukville, our port city, reflected this poverty, with ramshackle buildings and trash everywhere.  We flew from there to the city of Siem Reap, which is all of 3 miles from Angkor Wat, and saw in the contrast of the cities what a difference the presence of such a treasure makes to the people of the area. 

A UNESCO World Heritage site, and second only to Marrakech on Trip Advisor’s list of top 25 destinations in the world, Siem Reap seems to have benefited from the tourist trade, and its people seem to be prospering.  While there were no high rises or other modernity, the city proper is clean, its structures solid, and a vibrant life of the people can be seen and felt.

I see that I’ve written way more than I intended, and yet I’ve barely scratched the surface.  If you do nothing else in Asia, come to Siem Reap and the Angkor Wat Archaeological Park.

Next up: Vietnam

One Day in Bangkok: Thailand on the Run

"When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky."- the Buddha

Well, it was actually two days in Thailand.  The first was on one of its storied resort islands: Koh Samui.  All I can say is that it was a wonderful, relaxing day at the beach.  Yes, it could have been at any nice resort anywhere in the world that features nice resorts. But it was in Thailand, and it was a great respite from exploring.

The next day was Bangkok, and whatever is the opposite of relaxing. Our ship was docked in Laem Chabang, about 75 miles from Bangkok.  It took about an hour to get to the outer limits of Bangkok, then over an hour to get downtown, thanks to that city’s infamous traffic.

I did not find the pollution to be as bad as I’d heard—indeed, I’d thought it much worse in Kuala Lumpur—but perhaps it all depends on the day that you are there.

Unfortunately, our ship was there only for the day, so I had little time to explore the city. Plus, I was on a ship's bus tour, which is not ideal for such a place. But given the tight timing, I was hesitant not to take a ship’s excursion for fear of not getting back to the ship on time.  Not ideal, but at least I got a small taste of this major metropolis.

Thailand stands out in Southeast Asia as the only country in the region never to have been colonized.  And it has influenced its neighbors more than it has been influenced by them. 

The nation is a constitutional monarchy, with a long-serving, 89-year-old king. He is much revered, though it should be noted that the law makes such reverence something of an obligation.  Insults to the king, or to Buddha, are taken seriously here.  News reports note that a man just received a lengthy jail sentence for insulting the king’s dog. But the sense I had was that the reverence is largely sincere, or else such harshness would not have been tolerated by the people.  This reverence may also be related to the fact that Thailand is fairly prosperous, and such prosperity in a country neighboring great poverty cannot be discounted. 

Temples are all over the city.  We visited Wat Trimitr, home of a famous, 5-1/2 ton golden Buddha.  We then proceeded to the Grand Palace, a massive complex of temples and residences. While the king does not reside there, it is considered his official residence (he lived there for one week after coronation), and certainly it was home to past monarchs.  Most of it is now open to the public, including Wat Phra Keo, home to the legendary Emerald Buddha. Alas, no photos are allowed inside, but it was a sight to see, with a green face (which actually is jasper, not emerald) and clothed in gold.

Other buildings in the complex were in many ways more spectacular, with ornate decorations and frescos telling the stories that form the basis of the Buddhist teachings.  We spent around three hours at this complex, and yet it was barely enough time to scratch the surface.

Interestingly, the walls held a series of (I think) 19 frescoes that told a story that reminded me in many of its details of the story told by the Hindu dances in Bali.  I suppose that shouldn’t be too surprising, as Hinduism and Buddhism co-exist in this region and undoubtedly borrow from one another.

Unfortunately, I got to see little of daily life in Bangkok from my bus window, but one thing that stood out to me, oddly enough, was the electrical wires.  Everywhere we went, we saw massive tangles of wires attached to poles in even bigger tangles. I cannot imagine what happens when there is a wire break—it must be nightmarish to find the source.  Yet the power seemed to buzz along on the streets, in the shops, and wherever else we could see.

An unsatisfying day, because of the limitations of time and mode of travel about town, but nevertheless interesting.

Next up: Cambodia and, in particular, Angkor Wat

City in a Garden: Singapore

“The tallest building in the world is now in Dubai, the biggest factory in the world is in China, the largest oil refinery is in India, the largest investment fund in the world is in Abu Dhabi, the largest Ferris wheel in the world is in Singapore.” - Fareed Zakaria

Just about everything in Singapore screams out one thing: “we meant to do things this way.”  This is a city that is also a nation; a nation that is also a city; a garden that contains a city; and a city built in a garden.  It is Asia’s second largest trading port, and a major financial hub.  It has no natural resources of its own, and, sitting at the southern tip of the Malaysian peninsula, has no place to expand other than into the sea.  And given its very visible prosperity and lack of extreme poverty, it has made an art form of the pursuit of happiness.

And it is planned.  Oh, boy, is it ever planned.

The planning started back in 1823 when Stamford Raffles, on behalf of the British East India Company, purchased this well-situated swamp from a local sultan.  He then set about to plan a city, dividing it into sections for the various ethnicities that came to live here: Chinatown, Kampong Glam (the Malayan Muslims’ section),  Little India, and the European section.  To a great extent, these sectors exist to this day, though the years, intermarriage, and some official policies have blurred the lines between the cultures.  But all the sectors are vibrant and possessed of their own characters, even as very modern skyscrapers tower over it all.

As a city-state of 267 square miles, all that the country/city wants to do has to be done in a limited area. What they have been doing is reclaiming land from the sea. Because the in-fill must sit and settle for 30 years before building on it, these things must be planned in advance.  The most recent building project was the Marina Center. This is a huge hotel, convention center, shopping, casino, and entertainment complex built and operated by Las Vegas’ Sands casino group.  Completed only a few years ago, it has become a major playground for the wealthy from all over Asia, and indeed the world.

More such building is planned, as in-fill is sitting now, waiting for the 30 years to run.

But Singapore is also careful to ensure that it remains green.  Indeed, a whopping 47% of the city is greenery.  The parks and massive botanical gardens are inter-woven throughout the city.  The equivalent of one of our three days here was spent in gardens of some sort.  First, the older botanical gardens, with their stunning and massive orchid garden, and then the Gardens by the Bay, a weirdly beautiful modern garden complex with two huge domes filled with plant life from all over the world and an outdoor complex of plants that includes a group of “super trees.”  

The super trees are mad-made, and meant to fulfill the function that large, old trees fill in a green space. 

But Singapore being Singapore, it also uses the super trees for play.  They are visible from all the city’s main vistas (the top of the Marina Sands hotel; the Singapore Flyer ferris wheel; just about any elevated spot in the city).  An elevated walkway takes the visitor from one “tree” to another, and provides an opportunity for a cup of tea on the treetops.  At night, the trees become the source of a spectacular light show.

But the neighborhoods also are a part of the show that is Singapore—a city with a thriving cultural life and a foodies’ dreamland.  We were fortunate on our first day to have a friend invite us to join her with her private guide, who showed us the city he knows. He took us first to the Kampong Glam, which is a predominantly Muslim section of the city. 

Pointing out a row of illegally-parked taxis, he explained that this is good evidence of where to find the best coffee.  And, indeed, we got some coffee and tea at a shop filled with taxi drivers.  The shop has no visible name; it is just known as the best place for coffee.

Coffee in Singapore is unlike any I’ve had anywhere else.  The brewing coffee includes not just coffee beans, but butter and sweetening.  Probably some of the best coffee I’ve ever had.  And not just the coffee is different—the “go cup” was unlike any I’ve ever seen.  Essentially, it was a plastic bag with a straw, but it held the hot coffee quite well.

Within the Kampong Glam was a mosque (we were there during prayer time, so could not go in), the old home of the sultan who had sold the area to Raffles (it is now a community center), and streets of shops and residences.

We then visited the old colonial section, which now is comprised of modern office buildings and upscale shopping centers, interspersed with colonial structures such as the storied Raffles Hotel, home of the Singapore Sling and the site of many a novel set in the area and of rooms where the likes of Somerset Maugham and Marilyn Monroe once stayed.

Little India was but a drive-by, but then we went for lunch at one of the infamous hawker centers, and had a delicious meal of chicken rice and lemon-flavored sugar cane water for less than $6.  The hawkers were long a mainstay of Singapore, setting up stands and hawking their food on the streets.  But in the past couple of decades, as Singapore became increasingly obsessed with cleanliness, the hawkers were cleared from the streets and concentrated into hawker centers—rather like a local version of a food court.  Cleanliness and sanitation inspections keep the standards high, so no fears of bacteria or vermin.

 

The proprietress of the hawker stand we visited has acquired some international fame, as she defeated Gordon Ramsey in a cook-off, and has been touted by Anthony Bourdain as providing the best chicken rice he has ever eaten.  In fact, Bourdain tried to cut a deal with her to open an outlet in New York, but it is said that, when she heard about the planned high prices, she backed out, as such pricing is not consistent with the whole philosophy behind hawking.

The last neighborhood was Chinatown, an area rich in character and interest. It was the only place we saw litter (cigarette butts on the main square), but also a place where some of the hawkers are still allowed on the streets.

Given that nearly ¾ of the population of Singapore is ethnic Chinese, this is also a large residential area.  Close to 80% of the people of Singapore live in government housing projects, but these are not what we think of in the U.S. as housing projects.  They are modern, well-appointed structures, convenient to all services and needs.  The government sells 99-year leases of apartments, and people join a lottery to get into a new one.  Points are assigned for certain attributes (having children, living near your parents, lower income, etc), and no more than 72.5% of buyers can be Chinese—in order to encourage more ethnic inter-mixing.  Leases can be re-sold.

Entertainment venues are of great importance to the city, for which tourism is second only to finance in importance to the economy.  Sentosa Island is a giant theme park within the city, and the place where our cruise ship held an after-hours party at the aquarium there.  Not coincidently, Sentosa is owned by the same Hong Kong company that purchased this cruise line a few months ago.

I could go on and on about Singapore, a fascinating and fun city.  I do hope to go back someday and spend more time there.

Next up:  Thailand

Modernity and Tradition: Malaysia

“Since President Johnson’s visit here to Malaysia in 1966, there’s perhaps no region on Earth that has changed so dramatically. Old dictatorships have crumbled. New voices have emerged. Controlled economies have given way to free markets. What used to be small villages, kampungs, are now gleaming skyscrapers.”-Barack Obama, upon his visit to Malaysia, the first by a U.S. President since 1966

Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur could be a major city anywhere in the world.  Except. Except, except, except.

Except that most of its skyline is less than 20 years old. The city really only started developing as a fully modern city since 1999.

Except that its modernity is mixed with Victorian structures reminding the visitor of the colonial era that Malaysia struggled so hard to overcome.

Except that its Chinatown is still vibrant, albeit with the infamous Petaling Street, filled with vendors selling knock-offs of designer items.

Except that its craftspeople display extraordinary artistry.

Except that it is a city of many different religions that co-exist in a predominantly (and officially) Muslim country. 

Except that it is the only Muslim city I have ever visited where statuary—particularly the statue at its national monument that was designed by the same architect who designed the Iwo Jima Memorial—portrays human beings (which I have been told is frowned upon in many branches of Islam).

Except that its national monument shows the soldiers and fighters of its recent history.  A history where nationalists tried to overcome colonial rule, and welcomed Japanese invasion in WWII as liberators, only to find a more brutal regime.  Where a communist activists became national heroes in fighting and resisting the Japanese occupation, only to become national villains when they employed terrorist tactics after WWII to attack Europeans and resist the re-start of colonialism.  The battling continued until independence from England in 1957 and beyond.  Eventually, with western involvement, the communists were defeated and Malaysia embraced capitalism with a vengeance, thus leading to the modern capital city we see today.

Except that its very strong tourism trade is tailored primarily to Asians, and not the West.  But westerners are certainly made to feel welcome.

Except that its heat and humidity are at times overwhelming.

But its multiplicity of shopping malls, modern cuisine, hipster entertainments, and high fashion mark it as a major world-class city that could be anywhere.

Penang

Diversity of cultures and religions is a hallmark of the Malaysian island of Penang.  Peppered with temples of all descriptions, its capital city of George Town includes lovely Victorian homes juxtaposed with lively and vivid temples of various ethnic takes on Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam. 

The city boasts of the world’s fourth-largest reclining Buddha—one that looks very different from what we in the west often envision when we think of a Buddha.  This is a Thai temple, across the street from a Burmese temple that features standing Buddhas.

Langkawi

 1987.  That is the year that is constantly cited as the game-changer for this island resort.  What happened then?  The island was declared duty-free.  It thus became a mecca for shoppers from all over Asia, coming to buy liquor, chocolates, designer items, household goods, and all manner of other items.  The shoppers soon discovered its magnificent beaches and its mountain summit that, on a clear day, can provide a view of both the main Malaysian island and of the south of Thailand.

All the spots were visited in the week we spent in Malaysia were interesting and/or lovely.  And all were extremely hot and humid.  But very much worth a visit.

Next up: Singapore

At the Intersection of Hinduism and Atavism: Bali, Indonesia

“When an elephant dies it leaves its ivory, a tiger leaves its stripes and a man his name.”-Indonesian proverb

Family compound upon family compound add up to a village. Land rarely changes hands, and generations of a family live in a compound centered around a shrine and a ceremonial platform. There is often a farm for each family, and neighbors who have been neighbors for generations. As the shrine is the center of the home, the temple is the center of the village. And the Hindu ceremonies are the adhesive of the village.

Thus is the traditional village in Bali.  Below is a photo of the walkway off which the family compounds are entered in one such village.

But villages are not the only way of life in Bali.  The cities are filled with shops and restaurants, the proprietors of which often live behind or above their businesses. And those businesses have a way of spilling out onto the streets.  The streets are heavy with traffic—plenty of cars and trucks, but primarily motor scooters.  Atop a scooter might be a couple of schoolchildren, a man with a load of rice, someone carrying other cargo, or just a single rider.

Driving is on the left, but that seems to be more suggestion than rule, as are the lane markings. To my western eye, it appears to be chaos, but our driver/guide managed to navigate it all with aplomb.  Indeed, all the drivers seemed to know what to expect of one another, and I saw nothing resembling road rage or even any accidents in our two days of extensive riding around the island. 

Among the many things that struck me about Bali were the deep sense of spirituality that permeates the island, as well as the people’s respect for life (for example, our driver constantly swerved to avoid not only the many dogs and people in the road, but for the snakes as well). The Hindu religion that dominates Bali is rather different from what we found when we visited India a few years ago—it has become mixed in with the ancestor worship that predated Hinduism, and is tied deeply to the outdoors. The temples are all open—no roofs and few walls.  Below is an example of the grounds of a typical Balinese Hindu temple.

So what exactly did we do in Bali?  A lot: attended a traditional Balinese dance, went to a traditional market, viewed some artisans at work, saw a spectacular waterfall and beautiful (and practical) rice terraces, tried to see a volcano and lake (covered in clouds most of the time, I’m afraid), visited a temple and a traditional village, drove the backroads through such environs as rainforests and bamboo forests  (I will never again complain about U.S. potholes), bathed in a natural hot spring, and last but not least, rode an elephant.

 

It would be fair to say that Bali was the highlight of the trip so far. Beautiful, fascinating, and both peaceful and hectic at the same time.

A stop in Java, with a visit to Borobudur, an ancient Buddhist temple that is the largest of its kind, should have been next up, but I had to miss the excursion because I was under the weather. So the next entry in this blog will be Kuala Lumpur.