Moving Mountains.

The Disney movie "Cheetah" is what brought me to Africa.  It sounds ridiculous, but I remember being 8 years old and glued to the television whenever my mom put that movie on.  I was enthralled with the sights, and the people, and even the animals that were featured on the film.  There was something so mysterious about Africa and I wanted to experience it for myself so bad.  I remember swearing to myself that someday, someway, somehow I would get myself to Africa. 

Fifteen years later I found myself on the plains of the Serengeti holding my breath while watching two cheetahs search for their next meal.  It was something that I had waited for my entire life and I was able to experience it with a group of amazing people.  I was on a J-term trip with a group of 18 other students from Pacific Lutheran University.  We were to spend 3 amazing weeks in Tanzania; going on a safari, reaching the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, and soaking up the sun on the island of Zanzibar.  As an added bonus, we were getting Communications and English credits. 

This post is to celebrate a milestone.  Or maybe, milestones.  Three years ago today I was quite literally standing on top of the world.  It took us four full days of climbing, and 7 grueling hours of altitude sickness on summit day until we finally made it to the top of the highest free standing mountain in the world.  It's amazing the things that you learn about yourself when you're bound to your thoughts, unable to feel your fingers and toes, painstakingly working your way to a goal that you cannot physically see.

Not everyone makes it to the top of Kili.  Summit day was one of the most grueling days of my life, both physically and mentally.  Altitude sickness is a real buzz-kill.  Not only did it make me want to projectile vomit every ounce of liquid in my body, but it also made most of us hallucinate.  One person thought they saw someone in a hyperbolic chamber (turned out to be a rock), someone else (cough cough me) got it in their head that their camera was frozen and wouldn't work (which is why I don't have any pictures of us at the summit), and someone else had an amazing revelation.  This revelation was a saying.  This saying went something like this, "If you don't tie a train's shoelaces it will go around in circles until you get dizzy".  Bottle that shiz up and sell it people.  It doesn't get more amazing than that! 

We would have never made it to the top of Kili if it weren't for our awesome guides.  One man in particular found himself dubbed "Simba" for his warm personality and his lion heart.   He was ridiculously strong, he knew Kili like the back of his hand, and he was almost like a father figure for us as we carefully trekked up the mountain.  One night we asked him what nicknames he would give each of us.   He claimed that I looked like a "Duma".  He didn't even have to give me the translation, I had already known what duma meant.  I had known for 15 years.  Duma is Swahili for cheetah. 

On summit day we moved painfully slow.  We had only gotten a few hours of shut eye (at  best) and I wanted to sleep so bad that every time we took a short break, I'd jab my trekking pole into the ground and rest my forehead on top of it.  It wouldn't take long before Simba would shake me awake and yell, "Duma!  No sleep!".  There were a few occasions where I felt so sick and so cold that I just wanted to throw my hands up in the air and roll my way back down the mountain.   A few thoughts stopped me from doing just that.

1.) My parents invested way too much into me and this trip for me to just quit.  

2.) I'd be paying for this trip for quite some time and I better get my ace to the top.  

3.) I might never have this opportunity again.  

4.) Reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro would give you some pretty awesome bragging rights  

5.) That douche of a boyfriend that I used to have will defecate in his pants once he finds out I that I made it to the summit of Kilimanjaro.

I also prayed my way to the top.  Boy, did I pray.  The first verse that came into my mind was Isaiah 40:31, Those that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.  They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.  Pretty fitting, I'd say.  Even when I was so tired that I couldn't think, that verse continued to ruminate through my head. 

I can't believe that it's been three years.  I'm so grateful for the experience.  I was given the opportunity to push myself physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I met some truly incredible people on the trip and I have so many memories that even now, make my heart swell with happiness.   So here's to us; the group of us that held each other up, emotionally and even physically while climbing to the top.  Here's to challenging yourself beyond measure.  And here's to hoping that we experience so many more of these moments in life.  May everyone find and summit their own Kilimanjaro.

Day 3.

Day 4.

Making our way down from the summit at over 19,000 ft.

Siquijor. Day 2.

Our second day in the Philippines started off with our alarm clock failing to go off.  Thank you sweet Jesus that the boy randomly woke up and decided to look at his watch.  It was 5 minutes past the time that we were supposed to meet our cab driver.  We quickly dressed and made it (with plenty of time) on our flight out to the island of Dumaguete.

As soon as I could see the island from the plane I knew it was going to be awesome.  Dumaguete is drastically different from Manila.  It's way more tropical, less urban and really nostalgic.  It is still very colonial and it reminded me instantly of my time spent in Martinique.  The air is so fragrant and my spirits were immediately lifted.   Once we landed, we hopped on another tricycle and made our way to the ferry terminal and boarded the first boat out to Siquijor.

So first things first, just a little about Siquijor.  Siquijor is an island province located in the Central Visayas region of the Philippines.  It was 4 days before we left for the Philippines that I was skyping with my mother.  As soon as I told her that the boy and I would be visiting the Visayas she said, "Oh!  Did you know that you're Visayan?".   Uh, whaaaaaa?  Yup, turns out that I am in fact a quarter Visayan.  woot woot point for me.  Siquijor is the third smallest island in the country and it was originally called "Isla del Fuego" by the Spaniards because of it's eerie glow.  Turns out that this 'eerie glow' comes from the swarms of fireflies that inhabit the island.

Now if all of that isn't enough to sell you on a vacation to Siquijor, listen to this:  Siquijor has a reputation as a place of both magic and mystery.  Apparently, there are many "witches" that live on the island and they practice both white and black magic.  In fact, there's a festival that happens every spring where many of these witches get together in the center of the town and brew a special potion to last them throughout the year.   It's both a blessing and a curse to the island as many locals are scared of the magic that the island possesses and won't step foot on it.  On the other hand, it also draws curious tourists like us to it's mystical waters.

It was Christmas Eve, and as soon as we landed on the island I knew it was going to be simply amazing.  We immediately hired a tricycle and bumped our way through the winding roads to our accommodation, the Casa de la Playa resort. 

We are so blessed in that Trip Films contacted La Casa de la Playa beforehand and told them that we were coming and that we wanted to shoot a piece on their resort.  In turn, they offered to host us for our stay on the island.  They were almost completely booked so we were originally supposed to get one of their garden villas.  Luckily for us, they had a guest leave a day early, leaving their beachfront property open for a very happy boy and girl. 

We spent the rest of the day relaxing by the beach and exploring the town of Larena.  More on La Casa de la Playa, Larena, and Siquijor in my next post.  My body thinks that I should still be on vacation and refuses to let me stay up past my bedtime.  

Manila. Day 1.

Manila was nothing like I expected it to be.  To be fair, I didn't really have to time to even fantasize about our time in the Philippines since I was so sure that something was going to go wrong and we wouldn't even make it there.  I guess that I kind of expected the Philippines to be a lot like Hawaii.  I expected that it would also be pretty similar to Korea, but maybe even more developed.  I was wrong.  Flying over the landing strip should have been a pretty good indicator over what we were about to experience over the next 20 hours that we had in Manila.  It was hazy and I could clearly see the rundown aluminum houses that were speckaled across the ground.  It was loud, gritty, and pretty chaotic.  I think the boy's face accurately sums up how we felt after touching down in Manila. 

I think we were both pretty shocked and just how undeveloped Manila is.  Don't get me wrong, the people are awesome and the whole place is pretty exotic, it just wasn't what we expected. 

Well, we got to our hotel and we were pleasantly surprised.  I booked our hotel through expedia.com and I wanted something close to the airport so that our 7 am departure to Dumaguete wouldn't be too rough.  I was especially interested in this hotel since one of the reviews stated this little gem...

"Ummm, I am a female who flew into Manila at 2am. My stupid taxi driver didn't know where the hotel was (in the ghetto, actually...that's probably why) and drover me around a neighboring ghetto for 30 minutes...meter running. :( Save yourself a lot of time and hassle and tell your taxi driver to go through the International Peace Gate or something like that--or--better yet, save yourself a lot of stress and don't stay at this place at all! My other female friend and I both agreed that even if we had arrived together, we would have been scared to death and her dummy taxi driver didn't know where the stupid hotel was, either. And, it's like, 10 minutes from the hotel but no one would ever imagine that there's a huge hotel/apartment complex where Filipinos LIVE on a DAILY basis (creepy?) in the middle of a slum. =/ Expedia SHOULD remove this hotel from their list. I only recommend it to male travelers. Not for families...Anyone from a Western, middle class lifestyle will NOT feel comfortable here."

Because God forbid that you actually have to see real life Filipinos when you're in the Philippines.  I pretty much died when I read this review and it kind of made me want to stay there even more.  To be completely honest and unbiased, the place was great.  It was pretty basic, but it was also clean and there was even air conditioning in the room.  Yeah, you're sharing space where "Filipinos live on a daily basis" but everyone was very friendly and it was super close to the airport.  In fact, we could see the airport from our floor.  It did take our taxi driver a few minutes to radio his buddies and ask where it was, but after that it wasn't a problem.  A few pictures that we took from the hotel...

After taking a quick nap (we were exhausted) we set off to walk around the hotel and explore our surroundings.  We eventually ended up hailing a tricycle (motorcycle with a little cab attached to the side) and heading of towards the Mall of Asia.  And what did we buy at one of the biggest mall in the world?  Mexican food (or something that somewhat resembled Mexican food), skittles, coconut wine, and fruit by the foot.  Yes, all of the things that we miss out on while living in Korea. 

We ended the night relatively early and indulged in the plethora of English speaking tv channels that were available.  I set our alarm for 4:40 am so that we'd be all ready for our 5 am taxi pick up.  We then slept.  And slept.  And slept some more.

 It wasn't until the boy decided to randomly check his watch that he realized we had overslept and it was 5:05.  Oopsies.  We rapidly packed all of our backpacks and made it out to the taxi by 5:15.  Not too bad if I say so myself.  We then hopped on a plane and headed to our next destination:  Dumaguete.

We're Back!

So I'm a liar.  I didn't actually do any posts while we were in the Philippines.  It was just too beautiful and our time was way too short that I couldn't bare to spend it by the computer.  That and the fact that there was little to no internet to be had.  

The sun-kissed boy and I returned home at about 1 o'clock this morning.  We're still unpacking and getting situated and heading off to work in a little bit.  I'll be sure to post much more about our tropical holiday later tonight.  Until then, a few pictures...

 

 

Last Christmas

It's currently 4:04 am on Thursday morning.  You can't say that the boy and I don't live ruggedly.  We just got off the most harrowing bus ride that I've experienced in Korea thus far (and that's saying something).  It was about 105 degrees (maybe celsius) and I didn't check, but I'm pretty sure our driver was Sandra Bullock.  The man was driving like there was a bomb strapped to the bus and if he went under 200 miles per hour the bus would expode.  The extremely icy roads made it even more fun.  I was about to tap our driver on the shoulder and in perfect Korean explain, "ahem.  yes.  Um, well.  You see... I'm heading to my "homeland" in a few hours sir and I would um, you know, really like to survive this bus ride so that my frequent flier miles don't go to waste".   But alas,  I didn't.  Instead I stripped off all of my layers, used them as a pillow, and plopped my feet on the boy's lap. 

We're now sitting in the nearly deserted airport at Incheon, waiting for our 8am departure.  Every time that we find ourselves in this situtation, the boy and I just pretend that we're on The Amazing Race.  We've got a little section of benches all to ourselves and we've set up shop. 

It's funny, because as I was on the bus of death (or serious injury), I was reminiscing about last Christmas.  We practically had the exact same time off that we do this year.  December 23rd-27th.  Last Christmas Eve was spent craning our necks at the Burj Kalifa, riding camels, eating shwarmas, sand surfing, getting henna tattoos, and sleeping outside under the stars in the middle of the desert.

You can also check out the video that we made on our desert safari experience. 



We awoke early on Christmas day, said Merry Christmas to all of our sleepover companions, and then the mister and I hopped on a plane and set off for Bahrain where we met our good friend May.  We both fell in love with Bahrain almost instantly.  May took such great care of us and we had the priviledges of watching falcon training on royal property and experiencing Azza for the first time.  We also ate like kings!

May showing Ryan Sheldon and I the best Bahraini shwarmas

Lonely Planet even liked our Azza video so much that it was featured as one of their top picks! 




And after two glorious days spent in Bahrain, we headed back to Dubai for a little skiing and beach time before our departure home. 

Ryan, Sarah, Tawny, Chris

It was a trip of a lifetime and I'm so excited we got to experience it with good food and great friends.  We're even lucky enough to have Ryan Sheldon joining us for a few days of this year's trip!  I'll be sure to check in as soon as we land and are all situated!  Hope everyone has a very merry Christmas eve's eve.

A Weekend Adventure [part 2]

Holy Moley!  It's taken me forever to actually finish part 2 of this post.  The reality of it all is that everything that happened is just too incredible for words.  If you need to be caught up, you should probably read this little diddy here. 

So, where was I?  Oh yes.  We hiked our tired behinds up an entire mountain until we eventually came upon a hidden Buddhist temple teeming with Korean housewives.  How they all got up there?  We'll never know.  I'm thinking they have a camouflaged helicopter that shuffles them up and down the damn mountain because seriously, the hike was intense. 

We reached the temple while there was some sort of ceremony or service going on.  We could see and hear women and Monk Mook Sul chanting.  There were also women running around preparing some sort of meal.  After asking if we could help and being refused, we decided to stroll around and take some pictures.

We snooped around and played with the puppies for a while before the service came to an end.  We were then greeted by everyone and told that we were to have a meal.   We sat down to a HUGE spread of food.  We had everything from rice, to sesame and vegetable noodles, a fruit platter with sweet acorn dipping sauce, rice cakes, kimchi, Korean vegetable pancakes, and seaweed soup.  There was so much food it was ridiculous.  We were all a little unsure of what to eat since we learned at our temple stay that you're supposed to eat everything that you take.  I was full just on eating all of my rice alone.

As you've probably noticed, there was no meat on the table.  Buddhist monks traditionally refrain from eating anything that comes from an animal.  They also refrain from alcohol or anything else that will alter their state of being.  Regardless of the lack of meat, the meal was fantastic and just what we needed after our grueling hike.

Chris, Mama Staudinger, and I were seated at a table with Monk Mook Sul, the senior monk of the Bogyeonsa region.  No one we had previously met that day had spoken any English and I expected Monk Mool Sul's English to be limited as well.  I greeted him with the traditional, "Annyeong Hashimnika" and he just looked and me and chuckled and said, "Oh hello.  How are you? I speak good English".  Ha.

Now it was Sue, the mysterious woman who sent us on the quest, who told us that Monk Mook Sul was a special monk.  We had no idea what made his so "special" beside the fact that he lives in a temple in the sky.  We showed him the e-mail that was sent to us and we asked him why he was so special.

 

He told as that he had no idea why Sue thought him to be so "special".  Monk Mook Sul had a very reverent ambiance about him.  He's historically brilliant and very educated.  We learned that he's done a fair amount of traveling in his life and he really enjoyed talking about his time in India.  He asked us a lot of questions as well.  We got, "Do you drink alcohol?", "What's your favorite kind of alcohol?", "Do you think Korean women are pretty?", and "Who do you think is the prettiest woman here?".  I should have taken these questions as some sort of hint as to what I'd experience later in the day.  Not something your monk would typically ask, non?

After chatting and relaxing we were treated to cake (more food) and copious amounts of tea.

After eating and drinking to our hearts content we were invited by Monk Mook Sul to meet him down the mountain for some more conversation and more food.  I could've sworn that he mentioned something about crab but I wasn't sure in what context and what he really meant.   Now as some of you may know, I dont particularly enjoy any kind of seafood.  I like canned tuna.  Yep, that's about it.  Lucky for me, monks don't eat meat.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Lies.  All lies.  Apparently that's what sets Monk Muk Sool apart from other monks.  This guys loves crab.  Seriously.  He took us to a restaurant where we were served a steaming plate of THIS!

HOLY CRAB BATMAN!  Just a plate of death really.  That's exactly how it was served too.  Steamed crab with a side of radish kimchi.  Normally it would be served with a few bottles of soju, but monks don't drink.  Ohhhh waaiiittttt.  Monk Mook Sul is "special".  He does drink.  Man, that monk can drink.  That is one monk that likes to get drunk.  A drunk munk thats kind of a hunk.  I normally would have taken more pictures from that night but in all honesty, I was kind of ridiculously intoxicated.  Everyone knows that it's impolite to refuse a drink when an elder or someone of higher social status offers you one.  Monk Mook Sul is a very generous monk and loved to offer us shot after shot... after shot.  The boy was conscious enough to take some video of the monk practically proposing to his mother and of Paul, the monk, and himself exchanging "I love yous" all while stuffing raw fish wrapped in lettuce in each others mouths.  Our party of 6 somehow ended up into a party of 12 and I love the fact that our Korean is limited and hardly anyone could speak a word of English but we still managed to have an amazing time.  The soju might have helped. 

The boy said that he'll make a little teaser of our day (and night) out with monk Mook Sul.  Seriously.  How many people do you know have gotten drunk with a monk?  I know, it's fun to say.   To sum everything up, none of us really remember how we got home.  We were taken in separate cars and we all arrived safe and sound back at our respective homes.  We met a ton of awesome people and everyone was so generous.  None of us spent a dime, even with the crab feast of death and Monk Mook Sul somehow acquired Paul's cell phone number and has been calling him repeatedly asking him when we'll meet again.

Just another example of how the unexpected can be such a pleasant surprise.  Thank you Sue (wherever you are) - for the great scavenger hunt.  We all hope to meet you someday.  If you have any other treasure hunts for us, please send them our way. :)