“AW-LEE-VA, THIS IS HOW WE DID THINGS IN THE OLD COUNTRY”

Nighttime views of in Budapest

What can I say? I’m a Philistine. Beyond these trips each year, my exposure to the world is limited to what I see in movies and on TV. And my only recollection of Budapest was hearing Lisa Douglas refer to it repeatedly as “The Old Country” on “Green Acres,” a sitcom decades old. Not coincidentally, the actress portraying Lisa, Eva Gabor was from Budapest, as were her sisters, including the famous (and infamous) Zsa Zsa. Frankly, I envisioned the city as being ancient. And I was right. It is rife with old castles, beautiful cathedrals – buildings constructed in a way over we marvel today but wouldn’t dare try to replicate. Budapest is truly a spectacle.

And during the day

CONTRASTING THE MODERN WITH THE CLASSICS

            Dubai is the largest city of the United Arab Emirates (“UAE”). You probably know it as the posh setting of the gals’ vacation in the second incarnation of the Sex and the City movies. While Sex and the City 2 was an utter disaster, its setting most certainly is not. Dubai is amazing and a city to which I would love to return, if I can reconcile doing so with my angst for much of the country’s ideology.

            I don’t know how many in our traveling group hold this view, but to me, the Global Scavenger Hunt isn’t really as much a competition as it is an introductory course to the great vacation sites of the world. It reminds me of an old high school survey course on great languages of the world. You spent six weeks on each of four languages. That didn’t involve enough time to learn any language with even a modicum of proficiency. But it was designed to allow you to decide which language interested you enough to pursue. It was a class for people who didn’t know which language to study. I view this trip as much the same. Granted, at 52, I hardly have time to sample every venue before traveling there, and I have neither the time nor money to visit all the great ones we experience briefly. But these two years have given me an idea of where I would like to visit again and even where to have a first visit.

India was magnificent because it has maintained its old world cultural idiosyncrasies notwithstanding a certain succumbing to Western influence. Dubai is incredible for precisely the opposite reason: it has not only fully embraced the standards of the West but ratcheted them up a notch. I am, of course, referring to the superficialities of the Western world -- the economic niceties – the flashiness and pomp and circumstance – the largesse of life. I am not referring to the substantive and more meaningful Western values of individual freedom and equal respect for men and women. It is more than ironic that a country like the UAE, that has captured modern convenience and surpassed the U.S. and Europe in many areas in this regard, has somehow managed to escape respect for basic human rights that lie at the heart of what makes the West great. As is typically the case, religion is the culprit, but I’ll stop now before I offend someone. (And make no mistake: I am not attacking Islam. When it comes to religion, I fully support equality. I hate them all.)

            Dubai has taken our luxuries and expanded them to such a degree that Guinness World Records has opened an office there to make it easier for those breaking records to make applications. This past New Year’s Day, the city had, by far, the largest fireworks display in history, surpassing 500,000 exploding objects. Dubai features the tallest building in the world and the tallest residential building in the world.

Can you find Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, in this postcard photograph?

            In Dubai, you can engage in virtually any recreational activity you practice in the West – assuming, of course, it doesn’t involve “sinful” conduct (drinking alcohol, for instance, is principally allowed only in hotels and spots known only to insiders). The fact that the city is in a desert is no restraint. Need cold weather for your fun? Then why not simply shift the activity to a controlled indoor area?

Casey apparently concluded all his prior falls were due to

ski slopes being outdoors.

Familiar with the Atlantis on Paradise Island in the Bahamas? Well, they have rebuilt the Atlantis here. It looks essentially the same and features extensive tropical activity. Dubai has ensured that its geography can enhance but will not inhibit its offerings.

            Shopping is so posh that it borders on the obscene. Contrast the Dubai Mall with, say, the Galleria in Houston or Dallas. You would have to triple the size and the number of high end stores in the latter to make them comparable. Just to illustrate, there is an entire section of the mall called the “Denim District” devoted exclusively to, well, denim – that is, jeans. Yes, a whole wing of the mall consists of designer jeans stores. So, for instance, there is a store called simply “Versace Jeans.” The mall features store after store selling every luxury fashion or home décor item you could want, at many times the price it is worth.  

How often do you find a giant aquarium with multiple varieties of shark

in a shopping mall?

           

Most astonishing, though, is the Burj al Arab, one of the handful of “seven-star” hotels in the world. OK, there is really no such thing as a “seven-star hotel.” The maximum number of stars awarded by any guide is five (and this hotel receives fives across the board). But the hotel is so astonishing that some reviewers have said it is worth seven stars. Apparently, the hotel provides a different servant for every room. You cannot even enter the property unless you have a legitimate reason for being there. (And curiosity and photography desire are not considered legitimate needs.)

The exterior of the Burj al Arab, one of the world’s

 few seven-star hotels, creates the illusion of a giant sailboat.

Casey and I couldn’t resist visiting so we made dinner reservations. The only restaurant that had seats available at the last minute was the buffet restaurant – the hotel’s “lowest level” restaurant. It may have been bourgeois to the hotel but it wasn’t to us. It was beautiful, the views were amazing and the food was delicious. The food cut across cultures and nationalities and was all high-end. Just to give you an idea, you know how buffets often feature all you can eat crab claws and you salivate? Well, this restaurant had all you can eat lobster claws – unlimited claws with huge amounts of lobster meat sticking out the ends. The hotel décor was utterly breathtaking.

A view of the upper floors from the lobby

of the Burj al Arab Hotel

              In the end, though, demand for the UAE’s superficial achievements will wane if the country doesn’t reach real achievements in human rights. Interest in the country will soon stagnate if the country’s leaders do not reign in the subjugation of women and harsh penalties meted out to those who don’t satisfy religious stereotypes. When Russia recently hosted the Olympics, the nation was harshly criticized because of its anti-gay policies. Respect for women’s rights has been an emerging global norm for far longer than respect for gays and lesbians. It is difficult to imagine the UAE taking the next step toward greatness if it continues to treat its women as second class citizens.

INDIA: FINAL WORDS

            It isn’t the most opulent, the most tourist-friendly or the most comfortable country we’ve visited. And it certainly isn’t always the most pleasant on the olfactory system. But India has more culture, sincerity, tradition and frankly pizzazz than the others. New Delhi (with a detour to Agra) was thus one of our favorite stops in the two years we’ve done this.  Casey and I were so mesmerized by the people and places of this country that we took very few photographs (with the exception of photos of the Taj Mahal, contained in a separate blog entry). Instead, we experienced the country firsthand. We devoured the people and their quirks and mannerisms. India really charmed us.

Casey gets his umpteenth tattoo in Delhi. He’s now had almost

as many skin procedures as Joan Rivers.

            In my youth, I remember three depictions of India: (a) “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi,” the children’s book about the heroic mongoose that becomes the family pet to protect the humans from two cobras that live in their garden, (b) “Jonny Quest,” the 1960s animated series which includes the character, Hadji Singh, the Indian boy who is the adopted brother of the title character and is always seen wearing a ruby-encrusted turban and Nehru jackets  (and sometimes charming a cobra), and in my adult life (c) “Gandhi,” the movie about the great champion of India’s independence that first exposed me to the sari. So, my perceptions of India centered on snakes, jewels and colorful garments. While these simplistic stereotypes do not come close to capturing the spirit of India, they are all still present. While men dress in the comparatively drab attire of the West, Indian women still wear the wrap around, brightly colored, sequined or brocade cloth. And the love of big, bold-colored gems is ever-present throughout the countless shopping areas. India seems infatuated with pretty things.

            Those who know me well, know that I love snakes. I don’t know why, but I have loved them since I was a child. They don’t scare me. Even the poisonous ones really don’t bother me (though I suspect I might feel differently if I were paralyzed from a venomous bite). While snake-charming is officially outlawed in India, it still goes on, somewhat covertly. In out of the way areas, for a small tip, a man will play his fife as the snake exits a basket. Heck, this guy even allowed me to pet and play with his small and large cobras.

Erik is pleased to know that he can still charm someone,

even if it is a snake.

            One of our travel mates, April loves the women’s clothing. Basically, the outfits consist of large pieces of cloth, in bright, pastel colors, sewn and wrapped around to fit the women, with numerous sequins or other inlaid items. While I love April, I am not so impressed with the garments. To paraphrase Ellen DeGeneres in a different context, frankly, I think the sarong and sari are so wrong and sorry. Indeed, the only people I can think of in the United States who could get away with such gaudy gowns are drag queens. And only the queens from small, southern towns. (The ones not quite ready for Atlanta.) Granted, whether America likes a particular fashion or trend is hardly indicative of whether it is desirable. But I think the good ole U.S. of A. got it right on this one. April may be jaded because she spent several years in Pensacola. A drive along the beach there reveals houses painted in colors not otherwise seen outside of a child’s Crayola box.

            But I can ignore the over-the-top outfits (with one eye closed) and love the other wonderful parts of India. It has a rich tradition that is still pervasive throughout its people, places and things. India has become Westernized in many ways, just as every other civilized part of the world has succumbed to both the good and bad of the West. (The latter is reflected by the irritating presence of McDonald’s, Burger King and KFC in even the most beautiful sections of communities. It chaps my hide that many people from other countries think these places reflect America’s appetite – that we are all a bunch of fast food aficionados who couldn’t distinguish a good meal from a spread at Golden Corral. But I digress.)

            India’s Western influences are understandable because they began long before any surge in American visitors. India was a longstanding British colony before it gained its independence through the nonviolent protest of Gandhi and his followers. The English influence is exemplified by the fabulous high tea at the old and majestic Imperial Hotel. (And as an aside note, while I don’t care for the purportedly Indian food served at restaurants in America, the real stuff I ate in Delhi and Agra was delicious. Who are these people opening so-called “Indian” restaurants in the States?)

Casey, the quintessential Philistine, feigns appreciation for afternoon tea

at the Imperial Hotel (much as he pretends to like all the musicals I make him see)

            And this provides a nice segue into hotels. We stayed at The Leela Palace, which is, without question, one of the nicest hotels I have ever visited. The décor was magnificent in both the common areas and the individual rooms. Old world meets new world opulence. Consider by way of example only, the bathtub. A tub so deep that even I could fully fit within it. A remote-controlled TV embedded in the mirror above the tub. And a portable showerhead next to the faucet. The food, other than that presented by the unfortunate offspring of Le Cirque (see earlier blog entry) was fantastic. I could have grazed at the bread and pastry table of the breakfast buffet all day. I do admit that it can be a little off putting to have a dozen people stationed at spots three feet away from each other bow and wish you a good day as you walk from the entrance to the elevator multiple times a day. But I could get used to it.

The servers allow Travis to put the finishing touches on his inaptly

named tiramisu at Le Cirque, the only disappointment of The Leela Palace.

The two years of this trip have featured many places I am truly glad I saw. This is one of those places I hope to see again.

ONE MORE DOWN; FIVE WONDERS TO GO

A slightly off-centered view of the Taj Mahal from within the

beautiful gardens in front

            During his warmly received state visit to India nearly 15 years ago, Bill Clinton remarked: “There are two kinds of people in the world: those who have seen the Taj Mahal and love it, and those who have not seen the Taj and love it.” Happily, we are now among the ranks of the elite former. Despite temperatures in the 90s, Casey and I had trouble leaving the sun-drenched outdoors. We just stared at the magnificent structure for what seemed like an eternity. A giant, brilliantly engineered marble mausoleum with intricate hand-laid semi-precious stones in thousands of panels. It is awesome and almost unbelievable. It truly deserves its status as one of the Seven Modern Wonders of the World.

The Taj Mahal from a distance

We’re staying in New Delhi and the Taj is in Agra. Historically, the trip took over four hours by car, two hours-plus by high-speed train (not counting the time to and from the station, of course). But a new “interstate” highway links Delhi and Agra and the trip took under two-and-half-hours by car. We left around 7 a.m., saw the Taj Mahal and drove around Agra Fort. And I gave in to multiple sales pitches and bought a miniature marble table. We were back at our hotel by 5 p.m. If you’re in Delhi and haven’t seen the Taj Mahal, you must make the trip. (And there are beautiful hotels in Agra where you can stay overnight, if you choose.)

This picture of Casey in the gardens looks almost photoshopped

because of the Taj Mahal’s surreal magnificence.

             Whereas New Delhi reflects modern India and its status as a global economic power, Agra is a much poorer and far more traditional community. Businesses are housed in almost makeshift structures. Streets are filled with mopeds and rickshaws but few automobiles. There are street vendors everywhere and no matter where you go, someone has something to sell you. They come at you from all directions, several people at a time, trying to sell just about anything imaginable. Their sheer number is almost scary. And they are relentless. Of course, haggling is mandatory. They’ll start at $20 for a couple of “AA” batteries. Fortunately, our guide taught me two Hindi words: “nahi” (pronounced “nah-hee”) (“no”) and “bus” (“enough”). Perhaps most curiously, and consistent with our classes in grade school, cows and bulls roam the streets at will. They are sacred here. (They’re sacred in New Delhi, too, but they don’t roam the streets there.)

 This is the gate of the Taj Mahal as seen from the center of the front of the mausoleum. The perfect symmetry is present everywhere. 

            I strongly advise seeking assistance when visiting the Taj Mahal. In other words, go on a private tour or hire a guide. For one thing, a third party can secure tickets in advance and save you time in lines. More significantly, neither you nor even a cabbie can drive to the mausoleum. Concern about the toll that air pollution has taken on the monument has led not only to severe industrial restrictions in the community (such as required use of compressed natural gas instead of coal—what a shame governments must oversee a global tourist attraction before they will require clean technology) but also to a prohibition on cars and trucks near the structure. Some distance from the Taj, you must either begin a long walk or take a tuk tuk or rickshaw the rest of the way. Your guide will also provide you with shoe covers (and if you forego a guide, you’d better remember those yourself). You are prohibited from walking on the floors of the Taj Mahal with shoes, hence your footwear (including flip-flops) must either be submerged in a cloth covering as you enter the building or you must remove them and hope they are where you left them upon your return. Rather than memorize all the nuances, pay someone to handle the mundane matters. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Inside the mausoleum

            Many believe the Taj Mahal is a palace where the royal family dwelt. In reality, it is a mausoleum that Emperor Shah Jahan ordered to be constructed in 1632 to house the tomb of his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal, a princess from Iran (then Persia). He deeply loved this wife, who bore him 14 children in 19 years of marriage. (Frankly, she deserved a mausoleum.) The intricacy of the detail work on the walls makes the construction especially difficult to believe, notwithstanding 21 years of work by thousands of artisans and craftsmen. Thousands upon thousands of inlays appear in the wall panels. An inch-sized flower can contain up to 50 pieces of precious or semi-precious stones which were ground by hand to fit perfectly together. The marble itself is Makrana Marble from Rajasthan, India. Its nonporous nature has allowed the structure’s beauty to persist for nearly 500 years.

The tomb of Empress Mumtaz Mahal. This photo doesn’t do justice to the incredible

 detail work in the inlaying of semi-precious stones in the doorway, floor and tomb

One of countless intricately constructed panels of the Taj Mahal

            You really must see the Taj Mahal in person. A picture may be worth a thousand words but a photo can’t come close to capturing the beauty of this wonder of the world.

Makrana Marble table I purchased that was purportedly constructed

in same way as Taj Mahal panels

            By the way, the other “wonder” I’ve seen was the Colisseum in Rome. But that was nearly 20 years ago and from a distance. I don’t even remember the view. So, I have a lot of sightseeing to do. More on India in the next two entries.

We just found out our next destination. In the morning here (evening in the U.S.), we leave for Dubai.

“LE CIRQUE” IN NAME ONLY

The implant at Leela Palace in New Delhi

doesn’t live up to the hotel’s or New York restaurant’s reputation

           

Bill Chalmers, co-director of the Global Scavenger Hunt with his wife, Pamela, challenged us to dine at Le Cirque and mentioned that I should review the restaurant since I’m keeping a blog on the trip. I had every intention of visiting the place before speaking with him. After all, La Cirque has been a mainstay of New York for decades, being consistently ranked among the city’s top eateries. While I have never eaten at the original in New York, I have eaten at Le Cirque at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. The meal there was wonderful. I fell instantly in love with India and the Leela Hotel, hence I very much wanted this restaurant to live up to its parent’s and sister’s hype. Unfortunately, Le Cirque-New Delhi was the only real disappointment I experienced on this leg of our round the world trip.

Make no mistake: the place is lovely. It has a well-appointed dining area with marvelous furnishings and its 11th floor location produces a balcony with a great view. But then, everything in the Leela Palace Hotel is beautiful. The restaurant also features great service from professional but sociable waiters. Again, though, magnificent service characterizes Leela from top to bottom. The real question was how the food would be.

I had high hopes from reading the menu. Let me preface the next statement by saying I like Indian food. But I was happy to see that the menu at Le Cirque features continental (as in European) cuisine – standard dishes you would expect to find at a top Manhattan eatery. My issue isn’t with the type or category of food but with its quality. My dinner companions, April and Travis (who, unbeknownst to me that night, had become engaged and have since eloped in Delhi) were essentially mum but hardly seemed overwhelmed by their meals.

The standard offerings provided in addition to the food we ordered were fine. A creamy red pepper soup to start was tangy and tasty. A tiny serving of peach sherbet provided an appropriate palate cleanser. But the meal was off when the menu items were served.

I started with foie gras. A generous portion of the liver was cooked well but was otherwise rather mundane. It was served on a single toast point with little else. If there was a sauce other than the remnants from cooking, it was indecipherable. I am not one who believes that rich savory dishes need to be tempered with sugar or that foie gras must be served with a foil like fruit compote. I am quite happy not “counteracting” fatty foods. But some accompaniment would have been helpful. As it was, the first course consisted of nothing more than a hunk of foie gras on bread.

Travis wanted steak and I am never averse to the same. So, we jointly ordered a t-bone sized for two. I order all steak medium rare except for ribeye which I order medium because of the extensive marbling. One needs to melt away some of the ribeye fat. I didn’t expect tenderloin and strip to require the same. The steak that was served -- from both sides of the center bone --- was loaded with fat that was difficult to cut off or even through. Indeed, it was difficult to find meat that could be separated from the fat. The steak also seemed to have little seasoning. It was just beef cooked for a few minutes. Far more flavor came from the roasted potato side dish.

The biggest disappointment, though, was dessert. I say that because the tiramisu looked so appetizing as it was served to our neighbors earlier. It came atop two plates, with the top plate having holes on the side. As coffee was poured along the side of the dessert and into the compartment between plates, extensive steam rose. Travis and I ordered the dish based solely on this visual effect. What we got was essentially coffee shortcake. The lady finger–shaped pastry had little taste. And it was covered only with whipped cream. The dessert was little more than a bit of coffee beneath sweetened bread and cream. I realize that tiramisu is one of those dishes that varies greatly depending upon where it is served. But the principal ingredient of the dish should be whipped mascarpone cheese. There appeared to be none of that here. Nor were there any chocolate shavings. This was literally a dish you could make at home on the fly. And it tasted as such.

April ordered the chocolate soufflé. I found the ordering process odd because she chose her dessert after we had completed our entrées. Souffle must ordinarily be ordered in advance because of the time it takes to cook the rising dish. Her dessert came out very quickly. When I asked her how it was at the end of the meal, she gave me the facial expression for blasé.

In short, I was disappointed with this incarnation of Le Cirque. The food was uninspiring and not on par with the food at the restaurant’s Vegas location. What is surprising is that internet reviews of the place seem universally positive. Whether that is because those leaving such comments are unfamiliar with haute cuisine, or the restaurant is transitioning between chefs, is an open question. But on April 22nd, Le Cirque was Le Echec.

SEOULITARY CONFINEMENT

A panoramic view from our room at the Grand Hyatt Seoul

How many times have you heard an American say, “The best places in the world are in the good ole U.S. of A. Why would I want to visit anywhere else?” What leads to such an erroneous and downright cynical view? Is it nationalism? Ethnocentrism? Or just plain ignorance? I hope it’s the latter, but I suspect it is all of the above. For some reason, many of our compatriots just can’t fathom that there are wonderful cites outside the land from the redwood forest to the Gulfstream waters. While I would like to believe I was never so narrow-minded, before this same adventure last year, I mistakenly assumed the New York skyline was the gold standard by which all city skyscrapers were to be judged. I got a rude awakening when we visited Shanghai (see below), which had a far more extensive skyline, far taller buildings and far more modern and architecturally sophisticated structures. Frankly, in the skyline department, it puts New York to utter shame. Seoul provided a similar eye-opening experience. Seoul embodies every bit of modernity one would expect from a major metropolis. Now, despite all this, I wouldn’t say that either Eastern city is better than Manhattan. I love New York as much as Frank and Liza did. But the notion that American opulence cannot be matched is as obsolete as the belief that America runs the planet.

            What a magnificent city! Seoul houses 11 million residents within its boundaries and more than 25 million in its greater metropolitan area. Its buildings reach for the sky and extend in all directions beyond the human eye. It is surrounded by majestic mountains and penetrated by attractive waterways. All the modern architecture is literally breathtaking. A giant building in one of many shopping districts looks like a cross between a mushroom cloud and the mother ship from “Independence Day.”

Photo of Dongdaemun Design Plaza, shamelessly stolen

            One of the city’s greatest attributes is the generosity of its citizens. I can’t even begin to tell you how many people bent over backwards to help us find places, activities and even foodstuffs. People even walked with us to show us where places were. A number of the people with whom we’re traveling echoed a similar refrain. Whatever anti-Americanism may have existed after the last Bush Administration didn’t permeate this region of the world or has dissipated.

            A couple of examples of the generosity of the folks at our hotel bear mention. I foolishly lost my passport at, of all places, a McDonalds. Before this trip, I hadn’t eaten at McDonalds (which I view as the worst of the fast food chains) in years. However, one of the “scavenges” in each city is to purchase and eat a uniquely foreign dish at an American fast food restaurant. Late on the second day, I noticed that my passport wasn’t in my pocket. I hoped that I had left it in the hotel room but wasn’t sure. When we returned to the room, my passport was on the desk with a note from someone saying he found my passport on the ground with my room key. He had called the hotel which sent its shuttle to the restaurant to pick up my passport. As yet another example, two of our travel companions took clothes to a laundromat to be picked up on our third and final day in the city. While at COEX (a futuristic version of an American mall), they remembered they had left the clothes at the business which was about to close. They called the hotel, which sent someone to pick up the clothes and bring them to the travelers’ room. How many Hyatts in the U.S. would go to such lengths? (Incidentally, the person who picked up my passport identified himself only as “Cedric.” I suspect he is one of the American soldiers stationed in South Korea whom we saw in the restaurant that day.) Whether they were service personnel or random people we met on the street, the people of Seoul were gracious and giving.

            Just FYI: I almost shudder to write such things. I made positive comments about the residents of Osaka several days ago as well. Is it appropriate to stereotype a town’s residents, much less a nation’s people, much less the people of Southeast Asia, when the stereotype is positive rather than negative? Is it OK to say, “the Japanese are so gracious” or “the Koreans are so generous” when it would not be deemed OK (at least by the standards of political correctness) to say something negative about such broad groups? Is it OK to stereotype positively when you’re referring to cities rather than nations (even though both cities house millions)? Lest I be adjudged a hypocrite, I will cast aspersions: some of the people we encountered have a problem with lines. On a few more occasions that I’m used to, people broke in front of us in line, and a few times, even nudged us out of the way. There, I said it. Even Asians aren’t perfect. (Of course, I’ll probably be labeled a racist for that comment.)

Speaking of COEX, how many malls do you frequent that contain a casino, a 4D movie theater and a giant aquarium housing sea creatures from all over the world? Sharks just feet from kiosks?

One of the countless exhibits in the aquarium, located slightly below the mallway shown by the windows

           

Perhaps the most dramatic adventure of this leg was visiting the DMX or demilitarized zone. You’re showing your youth if you’re unfamiliar, at least from history class, with the Korean War of the early 1950s. The enormously costly civil war that claimed millions of lives ultimately yielded two separate countries: North Korea, a very poor Communist nation aligned with China (though even China is now lukewarm on the country given its crazy leaders who seem appealing only to Dennis Rodman) and South Korea, a much wealthier, modern nation aligned with the West (and the country housing Seoul). North Korea is part of the “Axis of Evil” as described by George W. Bush in a State of the Union address in which Bush was attempting to drum up support to invade Iraq. North Korea spends huge sums it doesn’t have on military development at the expense of its citizens’ basic human needs. The country’s international behavior is akin to the anti-social conduct of a belligerent misfit, yielded devastating sanctions by much of the world, including the United Nations, making the already poor nation essentially destitute. Its people are literally starving, in contrast to their neighbors (and former kinfolks) to the South. Less than two kilometers separate these nations of kindred spirits but diametrically opposed ideologies, economies and governments. The tension between the governments is a constant powder keg, necessitating military buildup on the borders. We traveled to the DMZ to take a look at freedom’s outer limit.

The view of a South Korean military installation from the tour bus

            Despite its name, the DMZ is anything but demilitarized. There was a military presence everywhere. Soldiers even boarded our bus and examined our passports. At a stop very near the North Korean border, we were allowed to look at the edge of the “enemy,” scrutinizing buildings through coin-operated binoculars. But we were not allowed to take any photographs beyond a certain line. We managed to get this blurry photo of the North Korean flag. It’s not much to look at; its significance lies in its symbolization of the two nations’ enormous ideological divide juxtaposed against their tiny geographical divide.

  

Photograph of North Korean flag of the demilitarized zone, taken in hazy conditions

            The last stop on the tour was the Dorasan Train Station, the northernmost station of a train line that formerly connected the two nations. The train line has multiple stops throughout North Korea, and thus would not only connect the two nations but would provide South Korea with a land connection to the rest of the world. (Without this train line, South Korea is essentially an island.) The train operated briefly in 2008 and was then shut down by North Korea. Many in South Korea (and probably many in North Korea) hope the train will one day ride again, perhaps paving the way to reunification of the two countries. Many political analysts say that is totally unrealistic – using much of the same superlative terminology they used in emphatically predicting that East and West Germany would never reunite.

            We are now in our first day in New Delhi, India, which I can already tell will be my favorite leg of this event thus far. We’re here for four days so I’m likely signing off until Thursday.

DO THE JAPANESE FINALLY LOSE IT WHEN THEY GET HOME?

(Osaka, Japan)

Jovial Japanese

            No one can be kind and pleasant all the time, right? Historically, whether in classic literature or plain old TV, stories have depicted perfect people – polite, courteous, deferential. But this is always a façade, and at some point, the folks just snap. Remember Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”? Everyone is kind to each other until that one time of the year when they hold a drawing to decide whom among them they will stone to death. In an episode of the original “Star Trek” series entitled, “Return of the Archons,” all the people are peaceful and polite except at one time each day known as “Festival” when they become violent and sexually aggressive. In a book read today by schoolchildren and just turned into a movie starring the incomparable Meryl Streep (to be released this August) called “The Giver,” there is no strife or conflict in the world, but that is only because memories of the violent past reside in a single person’s brain. Once they are released to others, the world will face chaos.

            With that said, there do not appear to be any lethal lotteries, daily festivals or repressed memories among the people of Osaka. Their dispositions seem genuine and unaffected. And they are universally nice and polite, whether giving directions, responding to inquiries or refusing you entry. One of the event directors, Bill Chalmers told us to be careful asking people here any “yes” or “no” questions because the folks are literally incapable of saying “no,” even when that is the answer you need to hear. They will find a way to avoid “no,” even if it means giving incomplete responses. It is not in their nature to convey bad news or offer information they do not perceive that the listener wants to hear. They aim to please, not to disturb. We found that to be true even when asking for directions. Travis, April, Casey and I took a bullet train from Osaka to Hiroshima yesterday. We started at the subway station right across the street from our hotel. We purchased tickets for two subway stops and the bullet train departing at the last stop. We initially received indecipherable directions as we bought our tickets. When we asked people if we were headed in the right direction, they told us we were. Yet, we knew within minutes of beginning the subway ride that we were way off. To meet our schedule, we wound up getting off the subway and taking a cab to the subway station that served as the launch point for the high speed train.

Terrific Transportation

           

            As Bill asked me last night (possibly rhetorically), after hearing about our trek, “Why do you think there are no high speed trains in America?” “Bullet trains” here reach speeds of well over 300 miles per hour. What would have been over a four-hour car ride from Osaka to Hiroshima took just over an hour. Why don’t we have these trains, indeed? Undoubtedly, some major metropolitan areas in America are separated by other townships and could not find room for the tracks. But that is certainly not the case everywhere. Consider Texas, where we live. There should be ample room for a high speed train to travel somewhere not too far from the I-35 corridor and connect Dallas, Waco, Austin, San Marcos and San Antonio (and possibly towns in between). The reduction in traffic on the interstate and, frankly, throughout Austin, would be substantial. And what about such trains connecting Houston and Dallas or Houston and San Antonio? The trains here charge $100 minimum a seat for an hour-plus ride; nearly $300 for a first class seat. I suspect huge numbers of people would pay similar amounts to reduce a three or four hour Texas trip to a single hour. Given that folks would reach their destinations faster than they would by plane when times for check-in and travel to and from airports are considered, the demand would be overwhelming. The trains would likely be cost-beneficial even in the short term. I wonder what corporate monopoly is threatened by high speed trains and has thus prevented their consideration.

Horrifying Hiroshima

            The awe-inspiring train ride was followed with a far grimmer and more somber experience: visiting the Atomic Bomb Dome and the Peace Memorial in Hiroshima. Few events in the history of humankind are as shocking and controversial as the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. I’ve heard the arguments for and against these acts and find the former unpersuasive. In my humble opinion, one would have to embrace utilitarianism as an absolute truth to find justification for using atomic or nuclear weapons. I know the claim. It ended the war sooner and possibly fewer people ultimately died. Ignoring for a moment that the people who were targeted and killed in the attack were largely civilians, this “the ends justify the means” argument is precisely what religious dictatorships use to justify chopping off the fingers or hands of shoplifters and stoning to death “immodest” women to deter crime and promiscuity. It is the argument that has been used to eviscerate human rights by dictators claiming that dissension threatens the common good. It is the argument used to justify treating humans as guinea pigs for dangerous research. “The ends justify the means” is a dangerous argument, indeed.

            Now, off the soapbox. Interestingly, the narratives that accompany each exhibit in the peace museum are not anti-American. Make no mistake: they convey the harsh realities of the carnage caused by the atomic bombs dropped in World War II and the inevitable devastation we face if nuclear weapons are used in the future. But they do not lash out at America for her decision to drop the bomb. If anything, they portray Japan’s instigation of hostilities as the real culprit. I don’t know if this is because Japan of today views the empire of yesteryear as a bleak and unfortunate part of its past, or if there was some American influence on the creation of the museum. But in the end, the objectivity portrayed contrasts sharply with, say, the portrayal of the Vietnam conflict by the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City (see last year’s blog, below). That is not to say I don’t agree with key points made in the Vietnam museum’s exhibits, but the characterization of the two sides of the conflict is anything but objective.

            Perhaps those creating the narrative in Hiroshima recognized that the museum’s exhibits would tell the story far better than words could. One need only glance at the photographs of the old and the young with skin burning off their bones from radiation, the tattered pieces of clothing worn by people just enjoying an ordinary day before the bomb hit, the walls from several miles away from the blast site that were riddled with shards of glass, to recognize the insanity of the act. Over 70,000 killed immediately and about as many injured. Even more perished in the aftermath.

            It was refreshing to see that the city has bounced back and is now more vibrant than ever. Let us hope no city will ever again experience what the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki once did. The museum undoubtedly captures but a fraction of the suffering.

Awesome Osaka

            The city is beautiful. It is huge. Tall buildings, including countless skyscrapers extend in multiple directions beyond the human eye. Businesses flourish both on the streets and in alleys. In fact, there seems to be more neon glowing in the alleys than in the streets. There is something for every member of the family here. Casey and I spent about an hour in an aquarium, of all places. The Kaiyukan Aquarium is the best I’ve ever seen, with tank after tank of fish and aquatic mammals from all over the world. It was great fun seeing a man in diving gear cleaning the inside of a giant tank while hammerhead sharks and even a whale shark swam by.

            This is a modern city in every respect. Let’s get to the important stuff. In many establishments (including our hotel), bathrooms feature Buck Rogers toilets. Heaters and even bidets are not uncommon. As you approach the toilet in our hotel room, for instance, the lid opens automatically and you sit down to a toasty reception. There is a remote control above the toilet paper rings for the bidet. I found myself using a bidet for the first time in a couple decades. There appeared to be buttons to change the location of the stream and there were definitely buttons that changed its intensity. Despite the buttons being labeled in Japanese only, even I could figure out what the up and down arrows and plus and minus signs meant. Unfortunately, no button was labeled “Off.” For a while, I just sat there, worried that, if I rose, water would shoot all over the bathroom. Had I not found the off switch when I did, the bidet stream might just have become a high colonic.

Regretful Reservation

            All of these accolades could lead one to conclude I endorse a visit to Osaka without qualification. That would be inaccurate. I have one reservation: the language barrier. While that is an obstacle facing travel to myriad foreign countries, it is especially acute here. Not only do few people speak any English, there has been little institutional attempt to accommodate English speakers. While the highway signs from the airport contain English words, none of the city street signs or subway station signs do. And few of the people who work in service jobs where they undoubtedly encounter numerous tourists speak any English. We tried twice to use the subway system. We failed both times. The fact that subway maps are written only in Japanese, and no one we found who worked in the subway station could translate them, was a major logistical obstacle to movement. Even taxi travel was difficult because we did not find any cab driver who spoke English. The majority of personnel in our hotel – a Marriott property – spoke no English. We found only one restaurant with a menu in English and that was a British pub.

            When we arrived, Bill warned us this would be an issue. He said our biggest challenge on this leg of the trip was maneuvering our way around the city. He was right. I suspect after several repeat visits, the problem diminishes and one learns enough key words and recalls enough landmarks to make transit feasible. But for these first-time visitors, getting around was very difficult.

            If all this sounds like whining, I don’t mean it to be. I’m from Austin, Texas. I acknowledge that if a Japanese tourist came to Austin, he would find few, if any, people who speak Japanese, and certainly no street signs or menus (other than those of Japanese restaurants) written in the language. It would be the ultimate in hypocrisy to suggest we are owed any more than we ourselves give. I am certainly not criticizing the charming people of this city. I am simply pointing out the logistical problems we faced.

            If you are one who can adapt to language barriers and find your way around a mammoth city, you should put this great metropolis on your list of places to visit.

            We just received word that we leave tomorrow for Seoul, South Korea.