San Francisco, Baby!

When you don't get to spend a lot of time in your own back yard, it's exciting when you can actually stop by for a visit. This is especially true if your back yard happens to be San Francisco. It was a quick visit, and Allison had to be down in Santa Clara and up in Folsom for much of it, but it was nonetheless great for both of us to splice in a little time with friends. Asia is a fantastic adventure for us, but there's something irreplacably wonderful about the Bay, and so many of the people we love, and of course, the burritos at La Taqueria on 25th and Mission.

You often hear that people aren't having families these days in the Bay Area, especially in SF. Well, our friends seem to be doing everything in their power to buck that trend. Our visit was a veritable BabyFest, with plenty of older kids in the mix, too. On Saturday, slammed with jet lag but persevering spirit in tact, we got to visit with Jonn and Max and their crew, Hannah and Hugo -- I got some dynamite horse drawings from Hannah, a burgeoning artist like her parents. We then made a pilgrimage to Millbrae to see Rick and Lauralyn's new baby, the adorable Braedon, who is about six weeks old and already crazy about his Uncle David and Aunt Allison. Then it was dinner with Erik, Anastasia, and Zane the Wonder Baby, a strapping young man who may be the happiest baby in the entire Greater Noe Valley Metropolitan Region, and that's saying something. See what I mean about BabyFest?

On Monday I got to stop by Capuchino High School and visit with many of my colleagues and students -- the old place looks great! Wish I could have visited with everyone... Stayed in the usual stomping grounds in the Mission, with Marija (thankyouthankyouthankyou!), drinking better coffee than they have anywhere in China, buying too many books, and soaking up the neighborhood vibe. Got to have dinner with Jane, and Julia and Sophie, too, and had a visit with Lynn and Jeff and (shockingly) baby Jason.

Most people who know me know I'm a baseball fan, but something about living in Hong Kong has made me freakishly obsessed with checking MLB scores this season. Maybe the game is my umbilical cord to a familiar world. Anyway, I went to two games on this trip, both to see teams with less than zero post-season chances, and I LOVED it. In Oakland I watched the A's get clobbered by the Mariners and worshipped at the altar of Ichiro. This guy is the Coolest Man on the Planet, a combination of Babe Ruth, Bruce Lee, and Barishnikov; I would pay to watch him in the on-deck circle. He got two hits and walked twice, another day at the office. I've admitted to my wife that I have a man-crush on Ichiro, and may seek counseling. On the other side of the Bay I watched (along with my great friend and baseball buddy Jane Lambert) my beloved Giants fall feebly to the Reds, as Barry sat out. The next day it came out that he'd spent the game being told by Peter McGowan that he was done as a Giant. I know Barry has a terrible reputation -- but he was, at one time, the best player in the world, and he was all ours. So long Barry, and thanks for all the years.

I ran all over town while we were home (by which I mean I actually ran all over town), and we got to walk at Lands End , one of our favorite spots in the world, let alone the City. We meet up with friends for drinks on the roof at Medjool, but had to run inside for cover from the rain -- I thought it was supposed to Fall (meaning Summer, of course) in San Franciso! Still had a blast, though, and baby Zane was a riot.

After a Last Supper at Trattoria Contadina in North Beach (like visiting family for me), we caught the red-eye back to Hong Kong, where we are currently renewing our commitment to jet-lag. Hopefully we'll be in town for a few weeks, before Singapore and Maylaysia in October.

Now I have to get busy writing! What, did you think I was just some blog-writing dilettante? Please don't answer that ...

Two helpings of The Philippines, with a side of Sichuan...

We’re in the Philippines, working in Manila for two weeks during the week (this means Allison is lawyering and I’m writing), and playing on the weekends -- this means getting away from Manila, which is not a thrilla; it combines the charm and ambience of Gary Indiana with the climate and excitement of Bakersfield. To be fair, the hotel is nice… however, the rest of the Philippines is simply spectacular – you’ll see what I mean. We had two more terrific weekends, one in the North (rice terraces and caves) and one in the South (diving and giraffes -- huh???).

Chengdu -- Panda-manium!

First, though, I have to backtrack for a quick paragraph to tell you about Chengdu, in Western China. We had a brief stopover there, just 24 little hours on the way back from Tibet last month, and we weren’t expecting much, so we were very pleasantly surprised (a frequent Ratner travel strategy, I admit). Our main goal here was to see Chengdu’s Panda Breeding Research Center, and to help my wonderful wife fulfill her dream of holding a panda (everyone’s got to have a dream, right?). The Center is housed in a beautifully laid-out and landscaped park; we headed to the nursery first. The price tag is steep (over $100 U.S.), but the money goes to the facility to continue their research, helping protect these endangered animals. And Allison was just thrilled to actually get to hold a laid-back, snuggly, one-year-old baby panda, while I shot video of the adorable cutie (the panda looks OK, too). We also got to see full-grown pandas eating their way through 50 kilos of bamboo a day, and watch the much smaller, friskier red pandas roll around in their habitat – they look like raccoons that maybe had a Giant Panda for a great-uncle or something.

Our hotel concierge sent us off to a fun snack joint where we had no clue how to order, but a friendly young guy from Xiamen took pity on us and helped us order spicy dumplings and noodles (Chengdu is the capitol of Sichuan Province, where spicy-good Sichuan, aka Szechwan, food comes from. Yummm…). We topped the evening off at the surprisingly good Sichuan Opera, which had a sampling of many different acts: Chinese Opera, Acrobatics, Comedy (interesting through translation); shadow puppets, and dance. We would highly recommend time in Chengdu!

But wasn’t I supposed to be talking about the Philippines?

Banaue Rice Terraces, and Caves

Oh, yeah, right. Our first weekend, we finally got to the ancient 4,000 year old rice terraces in Northern Luzon, sometimes called the 8th wonder of the world, and a place we’ve been wanting to see since our first visit. It was quite a journey, but really worth it. We started from the airport at around 7:30 pm and had a driver take us through the night, through heavy Manila traffic, over two-lane (and sometimes one-lane) local roads, dodging jeepneys and trikes, up through winding mountain roads in the fog, to arrive at our destination at 4:30AM. Luckily we were in a van with reclining seats and were both tired enough to sleep for most of the trip. After a few hours in a real bed we woke up to a torrential downpour, but decided we would hike out to Batad to see the rice terraces despite the weather.

The unpaved mud/rock roads were even bumpier than usual due to erosion from the rain, but we rattled along for an hour by jeepney until we arrived, and miraculously the rain had stopped -- further evidence that I’m the luckiest man in the world. Another 45-minute hike down a slippery mountain path and we were there – the Banaue Rice Terraces. They begin at the base of the mountain range and extend several thousand feet upwards; Unesco has named them a World Heritage Site. The rice terraces are brilliantly green, and the engineering is amazing – done by Ifugao people (from the term "i-pugo" which means “people of the earth”). They’re irrigated by mountain streams and springs that have been tapped and channeled into canals that run downhill through the rice terraces. They require the cooperation of the community to build, maintain and grow. We went to the Batad amphitheater terraces, but there are three other major sites and we saw many others on the journey to Sagada the next day. We hiked through the terraces to see the Tappia Waterfall, another amazing sight.

We had also planned an excursion to Sagada, which Allison thought was going to be a side trip on the way back to Manila. It was not. She has many, many great skills, but map-reading is perhaps not the strongest. It was a three-hour, very bumpy jeepney ride, one-way – delayed because we were following a convoy of large supply trucks. At one point we had to get out and help fill in the mud road with rocks so the supply trucks could make it over; probably a dozen people, the truck drivers and motorists, pitched in. I hope The Philippines Department of Transportation appreciates my work. Despite the long, bouncy ride, the scenery along the road was incredible. Once in Sagada, we first saw the burial caves. Families place the coffins in caves, and then slowly pass the dead bodies from person to person until they are laid to rest, folded into these small coffins. This group of people (about 10% of the local population), are Episcopalians whose practice is infused with indigenous beliefs; they keep the coffins in open-air caves because they believe the dead bodies need air.

But the real highlight was exploring the underground limestone caves; think Indiana Jones meets Austin Powers meets Disney. We entered a dark, dripping cave, slipping our way under screeching bats, hurriedly following our guide, who held a gas lamp -- flickering light blocked by her body and by the rocks, so we couldn’t always see the next slippery step. Then we got to a point where we took off our shoes and she expected us to follow her straight down a rock through rushing water. Amazingly our footing held and we got more and more used to clinging to the limestone, in both still and rushing water. Then we had to carry everything over our heads in chest-deep water, go through openings feet first without seeing where our feet would land, and jump into freezing pools to swim. The guide kept asking us things like, “do you want to go back along the Happy Fun Path, or would you like to try the Secret River of Blood?” Then Allison would smile gleefully and shout “River of Blood!” That’s how we ended up jumping into the freezing, underground swimming pool, before realizing that we didn’t know how to get out. Fortunately our guide was there to pull us through a pounding waterfall exit. It was all extremely cool, exhilarating, and amazing. We stayed on our high throughout the 3-hour bumpy jeepney ride back to Sagada, followed by an 8-hour+ ride back to Manila.

Diving, and an African Safari in Asia

After a week in Manila, we had another getaway weekend, this time to Palawan, a state, and a group of islands, in the Southwest of The Philippines. We went to Coron Town on Busuanga, mainly to try wreck diving. There are several sunken ships here from WWII, and the wrecks quickly become marine habitats, often covered with coral. The islands off Busuanga were a great place to boat around, and at night we saw some absolutely astonishing sunsets. But to be frank, Allison and I both decided we like coral reef diving much, much more than diving wrecks. They’re eerie, cramped, and the visibility is limited. Sediment can be problematic, and with the many nearby pearl farms, Allison said she felt like she was swimming in oyster poop – yikes. By far our favorite dive here was at a thermal lake – no wrecks, but the temperature changes from 20 to 40 degrees Celsius, in layers – it was strange and interesting. We had to hike over a crazy rock staircase in full scuba gear to get there and back, but we were glad we did.

On Monday, we were due to fly out in the afternoon, and you can’t dive just before you fly. So, we managed to arrange a day trip to a bizarre little island called Calauit. Calauit is an animal preserve for African refugee animals. It’s a long story, but basically back in the 1980’s, The Philippines under the Marcos regime agreed to take in a bunch of African animals that were being poached, and even killed for food, by hungry people in Idi Amin’s Uganda, and give them their own island. Marcos envisioned a sanctuary/tourist attraction/P.R. bonanza, complete with elephants, rhinos, etc., and started shipping animals. See the kind of fun that can happen when a couple of lovable, mixed-up dictators get together? But unfortunately for Marcos, he was deposed (and later died in exile) before many of the animals got to Calauit. The giraffes, zebras, and antelopes that had already made the trip then had an even bigger problem – funding for Marcos’s “pet project” (sorry) dried up under the Aquino government, which was trying to feed people (which maybe Marcos and Idi Amin should have thought of…). Anyway, the Calauit Reserve of today is the legacy of that project. It’s now a partly funded, partly complete hybrid, that houses both African animals and Philippines native species like Calamian deer, bearcats, porcupines, and little mice deer. It’s wonderful, in a very weird way, to see giraffes and zebras roaming around in Southeast Asia, and we got to get very close to them, even feeding the giraffes. And I petted a porcupine, too. There’s a metaphor in there for you, but I’ll let you pull it out…

As we flew back to Manila on a little twin-propeller plane, Allison was able to get some great pictures from the air that give you a sense of how lush and lovely this dollop of islands called Palawan is. Now we’re back among the high-rises and malls of sprawling Manila, a short flight and a whole world away.

Tibet – The Roof of the World, The Land of Snows, Shangri-la, The Forbidden Kingdom.

(Fair warning – way too many visuals for sane people to see them all. We did an amazing amount in the 2+ weeks we were there. So unless you’re Robert Thurman, or Tenzin Gyatso himself, pace yourself, and just click around a little . . .)

Tibet is the stuff of legend; for hundreds of years, no outsider was permitted to enter the Dalai Lama’s realm. The traditional Buddhist society of monks and lamas dreaded foreign influences, and it turns out they had good reason to worry. In the 1950’s China invaded and began whitewashing history, claiming Tibet had “always” been part of China. You know, like France has always been a part of Germany. According to Beijing, they’ve returned “little brother” Tibet to “the embrace of the Motherland.” Ouch. The Chinese and Tibetans make a very uncomfortable alliance, with hundreds of thousands of Tibetans including the Dalai Lama living in exile (Beijing calls him a “splitter”).

However, the Dalai Lama actually encourages Westerners to visit Tibet (despite the tourist revenue for the Chinese), to learn all they can about the land, the people, and the history – and to tell others. I pretty much do whatever the Dalai Lama tells me to, so here goes…

Since China took over they’ve been putting in roads, taking out resources, destroying and looting monasteries (must I be so negative?)… but they got worried about the political fallout, and they realized they definitely were not winning the hearts and minds of the Ira – er, I mean, the Tibetan people. So, many of the very monasteries they destroyed have been rebuilt, and places where thousands of monks once lived, now a few hundred are permitted to practice, under the watchful eyes (and video surveillance cameras) of the PLA (the Chinese military – “People’s Liberation Army”).

Despite all this, the incredibly resilient Tibetan people continue to practice their cultural traditions and their religion. I have never in my life seen a more sincerely spiritual people; every aspect of Tibet is infused with a recognition of, a reverence for, the sacredness of all life. No matter what anyone’s personal take on religion may be, the depth and commitment of Tibet’s faith is both remarkable and humbling.

Allison and I planned to be there for the Shoton (Yogurt) Festival, to trek in the mountains, and see the amazing scenery, Buddhist monasteries and nunneries. The first day in Lhasa we rested, because the altitude made it difficult to even walk up a flight of stairs (we were in the more-than-2-mile-high city!) The next day we woke up at 4:30 AM to go see the Tanka unraveled at the Drepung Monastery as part of the Shoton Festival. Unprepared and literal as we were, we were expecting to see some yogurt, and had no clue what a Tanka was. We saw no yogurt (the festival’s origins were a day where the government gave yogurt to the monks – now it’s just a day where they unroll the huge Tankas). We learned that a Tanka is a representation of Buddha and of Buddhist stories. Drepung’s was an enormous embroidered cloth Tanka. It was a morning of surprises: (1) our guide didn’t show, but our Tibetan-only speaking driver Bimba hooked us up with another guide and couple; and (2) they bribed our way through crowds of police to be driven up a huge hill to the monastery in the pitch black. We trudged further amid prayer wheels, fires, singing and chanting to perch precariously on a hill and await the dawn and the unveiling(video). It was worth it – an amazing effort of the monks and townspeople to carry the gigantic Tanka, and unravel it on a huge frame. We learned the next day there was some intrigue among the monks (always tinged with political overtones), so the traditional horns, etc. were not blown, but upon our visit to the Sera monastery later in the day, we experienced the magic of that.

Next we went to the main Temple of Lhasa, the Jokhang, which encompasses all Buddhist sects and has one of the few remaining original statues. (I’ve told Allison that if we ever have a son I want to name him Jokhang, so people can say to him, ‘you must be Jokhang.’ Um, yeah… she said she’d think about it…) We lucked out and got to see crowds of chanting pilgrims listening to a high Lama. Then we did a Kora (clockwise walk) around the Jokhang through the Bakhor, the Lhasa Tibetan market. We ended up in a little nunnery (Ani Sangkung) drinking yak-butter tea with the abbess. It’s not that bad, but I doubt Starbucks will be run out of business by a new yak-butter tea chain any time soon.

The next day, fanfare over, Tanka safely packed until the following year, we returned to Drepung to visit its many temples without the crowds of pilgrims. Our first visit was with a nun who had lived there many years, and had a hidden picture of the Dalai Lama in her cave on the side of a hill. It’s impossible not to be moved by the beauty of the temples, and the devoutness of the pilgrims. Our next stop was Nechung, home of the Dalai Lama’s oracle and protector spirit, Dorje Drakden – so, there was lots of scary-looking gods and Chinese wine (the Dorje’s favorite, we were told). Then we got to witness the amazing monk debates (monk vs. monk action video) back at Sera and were thrilled to see how much fun the monks had! They’re tough on each other, but playful, too. We ended the day touring the Dalai Lama’s summer palace (amazingly untouched and still in its original state, protected by Zhou Enlai during the Cultural Revolution) and saw the Shoton festivities (video) of Opera and picnicking pilgrims partying in the park (say that ten times fast).


Day 4 (and still acclimating!) we got to see the Potola, the Dalai Lama’s Palace. This place is incredible, even if you’ve seen Versailles and Vegas -- take a look. The Red Palace was spiritual and the White was political – so that means we got to see one white room and the rest red! You get exactly one hour and then you’re done, so we made sure to step quickly. That afternoon we ventured out of Lhasa to Drek Yerpa, an idyllic place where many famous Buddhists have meditated in mountain caves over the centuries.

Day 5 we headed off to Lake Namtsto, the highest saltwater lake on Earth, 4700 meters high, crossing a pass at 5200 meters to get there. On the way we saw pilgrims prostrating themselves slowly toward Lhasa – it’ll take them weeks or months to get there. We also got to hang out with some nomads in their tent (very goofy video, at least the first part). Lake Namtsto was breathtaking (in both beauty and altitude), and we lit butter candles in Tashi Dor and did the Kora (video). We camped and had visits from local nomad boys (video of them laughing at my Tibetan) and reveled in Dawa’s (the cook) cooking -- no less than an 8-course dinner! Embarrassingly it took four grown men to care for us while camping, a cook and truck driver to set up all the equipment (dining tent, bathroom tent, sleeping tent and cooking tent) and our own driver (Bimba) and guide (Pudun, pronounced pooh-DUNE). On the way back we were slowed down by a landslide, and realized that nature doesn’t really want to be developed...

After a night and hot shower in Lhasa we headed off to Gyantse, bumping along on a beautiful desert road, and saw incense being made in a river along the way. Given the lack of hot water, Allison decided to get her hair washed in the hotel beauty salon and came out looking like Benji. Meanwhile, I was next door, getting very frankly propositioned by my masseuse (I took a pass, obviously – um, no thanks, no rain check necessary…). The monastery at Gyantse, Palkhor Chiode, was a walled complex of major schools (Gelug, Nyingma, Sakya, Kaygu). We got to see monks chanting (it’s eerie, lovely, and largely indescribable) and we explored all the nooks and crannies of the Kum Bum, an enormous chorten (shrine) with all its mini-temples and statues of different gods. We then headed to the dzong, or fort, overlooking the city, where monks reportedly jumped off the ramparts when the British invaded back in 1904 (no, the Chinese weren’t the first).

In the afternoon we headed to Shigaste and the Tashilumpo Monastery, home of Panchen Lama. For those unfamiliar with Tibetan history, the Chinese have been trying to assert the Panchen Lama’s superior claim to political power over the Dalai Lama, and they have the 11th Panchen Lama essentially in custody and are raising him. So, the Panchen Lama is basically their competing candidate, an alternative to the Dalai Lama. The 10th Panchen Lama organized the building of tomb chortens for 5th-9th Panchen Lamas, to house the remnants of their tombs destroyed by the Cultural Revolution. The tomb chorten for the 10th Panchen Lama was funded by the Chinese government, and it’s impressive. We also went to the Panchen Lama’s carpet factory (video).

We returned to Lhasa in the rain and experienced “Tibetan Dancing” at the Crazy Yak (scary video), a cultural travesty put on for Chinese tourists, which was nonetheless very entertaining, in roughly the same way that Robby Benson movies are entertaining – i.e., not as intended. The next day we saw some grocery store clerks doing their morning exercises -- I thought they were at least as good as the dancing yak.

The next day we zigzagged up the mountain to Ganden Monastery (geluk or “yellow hat” sect), which is perched high on a cliff (those monks really like to get away from it all). We did the Kora, drank in the amazing scenery, and heard the monks chanting (video). Then we headed out further to camp below Drigung Monastery (one of the eight schools of the Kagyu sect). Early in the morning we hiked up to the monastery and were treated to monks chanting and playing music. We snacked with a friendly and inviting pilgrim family, and then headed to Tidrom Nunnery where the nuns were also chanting. After a short hike we dipped into the very hot (and after a night of camping, very refreshing) natural hot springs.

The next day’s journey to Samye essentially took all day, but we stopped to see Drolma Lakhang Monastery (dedicated to Tara by Atisha, the Bengali sage). This place had a Buddha statute stolen and sold in the US for 8 million, before it was returned and now is under heavy lock and key. We also saw peasants harvesting barley (short video) and building a house (even shorter) and the ferry to Samye. We had quite a search for a campsite, but it was beautiful once we got, there amidst donkeys, sheep, cows, and yaks, alongside a rushing river.

The next morning we hiked through the mist and trees, past birds and flowers, up to Chimphu, a series of small nunneries and hermit’s caves set in a beautiful valley. It was an auspicious day on the Tibetan calendar, so again we were treated to chanting at each temple. We came down the sun-scorched valley to Samye’s main temple, dedicated to Trisong Detsen, Tibet’s second great Religious King. This is actually the first Tibetan Buddhist temple. The layout of the temple complex is a 3-D replica of Tibetan Universe, a giant, walk-in Mandala. We watched monks making a sand Mandala in Utse (the main chapel, which represents the great palace on Mt. Maru that is supposedly at the center of the universe). We headed on to Tsedang (described by the tour book as an armpit) with low expectations, but we did truly enjoy the hot shower after four nights of camping! We also liked Trandruk, a small monastery (Falcon-Dragon temple) built by Songtsen Gompo, the first great Buddhist King, and the Yumbulagang Fortress (Palace).

We hope you can take a few minutes to click around and see some of the photos and/or the videos; we only wish we could show you the spirit of the Tibetan people, which is even more remarkable than the incredible scenery. If you’re interested, there are some wonderful books on Tibet (In Exile from the Land of Snows, The Snow Lion and the Dragon, and the classic Seven Years in Tibet, to name just a few), and many about the Nobel Peace Prize laureate Dalai Lama as well. He’s also written several books himself, such as An Open Heart: Practicing Compassion in Everyday Life. The commitment to peace, the compassion for all life, and the sincere faith of the Tibetan people are a great gift to all human beings, and the more we can learn from them, the better off we will be.

Tashi Dalek,

David and Allison