Charming Chiang Mai
April 25, 2010 by Olivia Wycech

Charming Chang Mai, a quaint ancient city with breathtaking vistas as it’s situated amidst the tallest mountains in Northern Thailand. Just an uncomfortable, sleepless, overnight 12 hour train ride away from Bangkok, where finance and ladyboys charge South East Asia’s city that never sleeps.

A humbled state of consciousness overcomes you as you approach the city center, weaving through an unusual kind of heavy traffic, one made up of tuk tuks, motorcycles, and pedal bikes, as you coast along the outer ring like schools of minnows swimming fiercely together downstream. A moat and what was once a protective wall encircles the heart of the city, its purpose was at one time to fend off neighboring Burma. Now the area within the walls is home to most of Chang Mai’s charm. The visually striking streets are lined with café’s, eateries, temples, chic guesthouses, message parlors, museums, shops, and bars, all rich with Thai culture and mystical history. We rented pedal bikes to explore the city and it’s relative peacefulness, the cooler climate in this part of Thailand allows for a full day of sightseeing without overheating. Political awkwardness is not in any way present and your only boundary here is altitude.

chiangmai-2

The highlight of my visit to Chang Mai was, in fact, the food. An abundance of healthy, holistic, organic and vegetarian cuisines occupy the city. Wheatgrass for breakfast, organic pad thai with tofu for dinner. Khun Churn deserves my honorable mention, and this restaurant alone is reason for me to go back. They do a vegetarian lunch buffet for 80 baht ($2.50CAD) but we opted for an ambient candle lit dinner on their stylish but laid back terrace. I recommend the Kaow Tang – Crispy Rice with a peanut and thai coconut milk sauce to start, the fried cashew nuts, the Kanom Hua Pak Gad – stir fried white radish cale with egg, bean sprouts, and Chinese chilli. The pomelo salad with deep fried coconut and lime juice was delish, and opt for the brown jasmine rice steamed with ginger. Khun Churn, Th Nimmanhaemin, Soi 17, Chang Mai, Thailand.

chiangmai-3 chiangmai-4

However what brought us to Chang Mai was a trekking adventure into the ‘jungle’ where farang flock to in search of something they’ve been missing in their everyday lives. I say jungle but the forestry is far from lush and in fact was very dry and not at all dense, mind you we were a mere 30 minutes from the city. I will never forget the initial hike that took us from the foot of the hills to the village that we were to spend the night. It was the longest, hottest, most difficult and strenuous hike of my life. Nearly entirely uphill, and so steep that often we were on all fours for traction, or using the trees surrounding us to hoist ourselves onwards. I’m not lying…I almost died. Not only am I so out of shape that a sprint across the street can wind me, but I have REALLY bad asthma. So we’re winded, without water, covered in dirt, sunburned, carrying all our belongings, it’s high noon, I’m gasping for air and losing oxygen to my brain, Audrey is in FLIP FLOPS, and our chubby Thai guide keeps cheerfully sprinting past us, telling us only 5 more minutes for the last 3 hours. My hell.

Upon finally arriving at the elephant camp where we were spending the night, we first spent a few minutes reflecting on the hike, or rather overcoming the shock, and then each one of us jumped into a filthy bone chilling ‘pool’ that doubles as an elephant drinking/bathing station. We rode these elephants around a bit later. Don’t even start with me on how wrong this is. I found out later that the elephant we rode was pregnant. Did you know elephants have a gestation period of 4 years?

chiangmai-7
chiangmai-6
chiangmai-8

It wasn’t even 9hPM and we were already trudging off to bed, at first excited at the prospect of sleeping high up in the mountains with nothing between us and the stars but sheer mosquito netting. I must have woken up but a mere hour later, painfully shivering until the sun rose. I’ve never been so cold, uncomfortable, and miserable in my life. It wasn’t an experience, it was the worst part of my trip. My body temperature has never dropped so low, I’ve never been so uncomfortable. This is all anyone talked about for a good portion of the morning.

chiangmai-9
chiangmai-10
chiangmai-11

We did some more trekking the next day, much easier than the first day by far. Most of us had headaches and couldn’t walk as result of the previous days hell. But we did and were rewarded with lunch at a beautiful secluded waterfall, and then visited some hill tribe villages by the road. We went white water rafting and bamboo rafting in the afternoon, although again it’s dry season so there really isn’t much excitement happening on the waters this time of year. On the way back to the city we visited a long neck tribe (the Kayan). I was disappointed at the realization that the village was in fact a tourist mecca and not one in which we could actually catch a glimpse of life under their brass coils. Nonetheless, the women’s appearance is unarguably intriguing. Every year, a lengthened new brass coil is added to the women’s necks and this begins at the ripe age of about 5. I always believed that their necks were actually stretched, when in fact the illusion of a stretched neck is created by the weight of the brass pushing down on the collar bone and compressing the rib cage. The women say they wear these rings as a form of cultural identity (beauty). It’s just remarkable to feast your eyes first hand upon the cultural variations in symbols of beauty. In Thailand, in Asia, in the middle east, anywhere, cultural interpretations of beauty is both fascinating and bewildering.

chiangmai-12
chiangmai-13

Charming Chiang Mai, an enchanting escape into the real Thailand and a keystone in any visit to Thailand. A city where Thai culture is easy to embrace, as it’s often misplaced on the lazy beaches of the south, and misunderstood in hectic Bangkok. My visit was shortened by time, and due to it’s proximity to the mountains Chiang Mai can sometimes only be used as jumping off point for hill treks, but there is much more to see and do in this lovely city. For travellers on a budget, I recommend the Top North Guesthouse for 250 baht / night. The rooms are nothing special, but they have a pool and the location is excellent. They DON’T have bed bugs.

chiangmai-1
chiangmai-5

Finally, I just have to mention that I charged through and finished The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand while in Chiang Mai, which was a daunting and difficult read and I now consider one of my literary accomplishments. This powerful and ingenious book was published in 1943 and is about a young architect and his struggle against conventionalism. Strong and detailed strokes in perfect form fill the 700 pages which are dense with universal themes, but most importantly a beautiful surface story. I recommend.

Today I’m supposed to be in Thailand, but instead of catching grenades in my teeth I’m finally catching up on some writing, editing, nail painting, etc.

read comments (2)
Muslim Bed Bugs
January 18, 2010 by Olivia Wycech

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

malaysia-37 malaysia-34 malaysia-36

Bed bugs are the bane of my existence. In my traveling world, at least. They are not a myth, they are not microscopic as common misconception suggests, but they are very much real and they are following me around the world. This time to Malaysia. These pesky creepy crawlies are small, elusive, and extremely difficult to both detect and be rid of. The live strictly by feeding on the blood of humans, my blood, and they feed only at night, actually closer to dawn is prime chow time. Something like 10% of the world is allergic to bed bugs. And I am unfortunately EXTREMELY allergic to them. Having being bitten and suffered through three prior attacks, I now travel with some Oliviaesque precautionary measures. Regardless of the temperature, I will go to bed the first night in a new place fully clothed, with only the flesh around my eyes exposed, and if I have no bites the next day, I’ll sleep comfortably the next night and onwards. There have been times where I’ve completely coocooned myself in a sheet and tied elastic bands on the ends to stop the bugs from getting in. I don’t even believe I’m being at all dramatic. Keeping in my traveling tradition, I slept fully clothed my first night in KL and awoke the next day seemingly alright. Then, that eve was New Years and I came home fairly…indisposed, ahem.  I was so drunk I actually saw a bed bug, said ‘Ew look a bug!’, flicked it off the bed and passed out. I woke up with bites all over my body, and even after changing rooms twice, I spent two more nights being midnight snacked upon, total bites adding up to somewhere around 70. These aren’t just little mosquito bites, they are welts, blisters, and boil like to be more accurate. It’s disgusting and ruins my life, as well the persons whom I am traveling with since it’s impossible to not sulk over.  They are itchy, painful, and last for weeks. And they send me to the hospital every time.

malaysia-50

I’ve read that things like eucalyptus oil and bathing before bed will help repel them, and duct taping the bottom of the bedposts, or even creating a barrier of duct tape around your body, can help stop them from tromping all over your body while you sleep. All things I am incorporating into my traveling routine. Any other ideas?

With what time I didn’t spend hindered by my ails, I got over myself and did a bit of exploring.

I had not a clue that Malaysia was so Muslim. I have never been within such a predominantly Muslim population before. 60 percent of the population are Muslim, 19 percent are Buddhist, 9 percent are Christian and 6 percent are Hindu. It can be rather intimidating to two white girls in sundresses. There is a distinct Islamic touch in the contemporary architecture of the many buildings towering over the otherwise lower class communities. The iconic Petronas Towers, which were the tallest buildings in the world until Taipei 101 took over that title in 2004, dominate the skyline and are symbolic to Malaysia’s stance in the modern day world.

malaysia-45

Kuala Lumpur wasn’t the most memorable city I’ve visited. Although I may be slightly partial due to my shortcomings, there was no apparent charm in the vibe that attracts me to some cities, nor warmth from the people, or fascination in the culture. Though it is an incredibly cultured city, perhaps over cultured. There is a large international population, people from India, China, and all over South East Asia, as well as a large number of westerns, that have made Kuala Lumpur home and tourists are surprisingly plenty. We spent some time in the chic malls, although mainly just to hunt for fast food chains we’ve been missing in Taiwan, but opted for more daytime adventures out of the city center and into Chinatown, Little India, and a neighborhood called Chow Kit, one more sinister than welcoming. Nothing much to see, no lasting impressions, but with the primary purpose of this trip being to party, party is what we did.

We rung in the New Year with the Bloody Beetroots at the Life Center in KL. They were, as expected, amazing. This Italian electro duo was especially hard to meet, but alas we got to chat for a minute, coaxing them hard on playing Taiwan in 2010. 6 inch purple heels had me hobbling the next day, but by the following night, feet wrapped tight in moccasins, we danced to the Basement Jaxx. AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN PLAY RED ALERT!

The Bloody Beetroots

Flickr Video

The Basement Jaxx

Flickr Video

I know this guy in Montreal who runs this little dive spot I fancy in the Plateau called Cash and Carry and he serves the best gd Malaysian food my palette has ever been treated too. Curries, lambs, muscles..I had high hopes for culinary delicacies in KL. Yet I found myself indulging in all that I eat everyday, Chinese food and sushi. But I have this thing I do in every city I visit, to try the one offbeat thing on the menu at McDonalds that is local to the country I’m in. I should have documented (and remembered) more of these wacky snacks as it’s all the same in North America. The Philippines has McSpaghetti, Thailand has a McSamurai burger and broccoli pie, and KL’s menu included milkshakes, curly fries, and a Prosperity burger…a burger full of wealthy fillings like onions and a pepper sauce.

malaysia-21

Thailand in 20 days…

read comments (2)
Sawasdee Bangkok
November 15, 2009 by Olivia Wycech

To quit life and become a nomad gypsy spending it meandering countries huddled alongside the immense and enchanting Mekong, my days spent absorbing literary wisdoms of my favorite authors, basking in the fiery southern sun, and trekking ravishing sceneries bestowed upon by stunning hillsides and breathtaking sunsets, is my greatest dream. I’ve been fortunate enough to experience this for weeks at a time on many occasions, this time not quite in the jungle, but near the edge, a weekend in grimy, gritty, ghetto Bangkok for my birthday. Far away from any parties, I spent it poolside, breaking only to be fed and watered and purchase purses, I was in bed each night watching BBC by dusk. Happens every time.

I hammered through The Time Travelers Wife, a book recommended and given to me by my aunt. I had a tough time wrapping my head around this book as it’s far from my style, but once free of all distractions except the looming threat of a sunburn, I was quickly immersed in the complexly written and emotionally compelling story, tears streaming down my face becoming the swimming pool below. I recommend. I dried my tears and read another cover to cover, by an author highly favored by and an influence on authors I perpetually read, a book I have been holding and anticipating for some time, the Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon. It began so promising in a powerful manner, introducing extraordinarily satirical characters like Mike Fallopian, Manny Di Presso, Dr. Hilarius (the protagonists psychiatrist), but in the end, more like the middle, I was thoroughly dissatisfied. The final 5 pages did finally help shape the book as whole, but I found myself searching for links to its theme over and over throughout. It was frustrating, quite irrelevant more often than not. Perhaps this is because it’s dated, and I am only of the ripe age of 26, though this has never stopped me from enjoying a classic before; but perhaps it is merely because I had such high expectations, as I do of everyone and everything, and this resulted in a greater let down. Fortunately, at 147 pages, and not having packed another book, I finished it. I don’t recommend.

I think I will write a blog solely on book reviews and recommendations. Soon.

I love us.

Back to Bangkok Dangerous. I sunburned my boobs (every time) and realized there is not enough lemongrass in my life. I found DAIRY QUEEN and a degree from the University of Ottawa for $30CAD. We stayed at the Rambuttri Inn on Soi Ram Buttri, a far more easy going and blasé soi than it’s renowned equivalent Khao San Road. 850 baht ($25CAD) / night for this rooftop. HIGHLY recommend.

Rooftop swims!

180 baht ($5 CAD) for all of this.

All for $5!

That’s stir fried vegetables and tofu over brown rice with a spicy garlic sauce, a fresh mango smoothie, beers, water, and menthols (note the warning pictures on these menthols). Money goes a long, long way in Asia, so you’ve heard. I backpacked Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia for more than a month on less than $1000CAD (Vietnam soon!). Massages in SE Asia are a dime a dozen and drain you of about $5 for an hour for pleasure pains by a little Thai women whose bijou hands are her deadliest weapon. But MaiThai massages are cheap thrills not to be missed.

Revolting!

This was horrifying, particularly playing on my fear of fish. It does not hurt, only tickles. Not so much a massage as an exfoliant. Or a leech like attack. These inch to an inch and a half long ‘doctor’ fish are from Turkey and have a hunger for dead skin. My mom is going to tell me get a grip when she reads this, but I screamed, I SCREAMED, I couldn’t do it. The feeling of these sucker fish between your toes is that of a submersing your feet into just as many hissing cockroaches. So dramatique, I know. You don’t know how long it took to get me to stick my feet in just long enough for Audrey to take this photo. Fear factor.

HORRIFYING!!!!!!! This lasted 2 seconds..

The floating market was yet another overcrowded money snatching tourist attraction, in which I overheated to that of Bikram and bailed on for refuge in an air conditioned van for the remaining hour of the venture.

Floating Market

Floating Market

In place of birthday cake, I ate grasshoppers and chicken hearts. Becoming Taiwanese! Breakfasted on the big day in Bangkok, lunched mid air with Air Asia, dinnered in Taipei like the Japanese MY BIRTHDAY ON RICE SOCIETY, but the party was on Friday the 13th. Friends came and caroused with Nick Chaney and I as I turned 25 (for the second time) and Nick bid farewell to Taiwan (for the first time, they always come back) in hopes of happier tummies in New Zealand. We made dreams real and memories last in photos and in the heart.

Birthdays and bye bye's

Birthdays and bye bye's

Birthdays and bye bye's

Birthdays and bye bye's

Birthdays and bye bye's

Photos from Thailand Fall 2009

Photos from Thailand Winter 2009

Photos from Birthdays and Bye Bye’s

Stay tuned, I have an announcement.

Au revoir.

read comments (1)
The trials and tribulations of Olivia Wycech
October 24, 2009 by Olivia Wycech

Jesus. Some time has past.

It’s Saturday night, and I’m wrapped warm and tight in a purrito and watching Eraserhead. I’m so happy. I’m so tired. I’m so busy. But so so happy. In the beginning, the first six months of becoming Taiwanese were cumbersome with plaguing homesickness and such, and the following six spent in anticipation of a voyage back to the motherland, which can all be summed up with tales and tunes of broken hearts and concrete floors. Well here I am, back in Taipei, and hella stoked with all that I’ve done, am doing, and will do. I think perhaps these blogs became slightly too personal at times, with apparent underlying tones, but they did what they were supposed to bearing in mind my flakiness when it comes to staying in touch, even with my parents. Sorry. I’ll do better. There has been so much happening that sometimes I have trouble separating my dreams from reality, or my dreams are spilling into my reality, or my nightmares, or vice versa, anyway it’s easy to lose your subconscious mind in this surreal world I dwell in. I digress. Photographic adventures have been plentiful (with the exception of Japan, an unfortunate account that breaks ma petit coeur to talk about), though Flickr is and has been going strong, and stories I will catch up on in tidbits by sneaking in little literary laughs from time to time like ‘Did I tell you about the time I had betel nut spit in my face, or the time I pissed off the mob and how they got their revenge, or when I wiped out on a highway into oncoming traffic driving a manual motorcycle in Cambodia, and the best, the time I was suspended from the ceiling by a rope wearing a pleather cat suit for a computer commercial?’ Life is grand, never stagnant. Stimulating and scholastic, and obviously THE TIME OF MY LIFE. Crookers are (still) the soundtrack to my life, I’m on scooter number three, have indulged on snake blood and apparently I like fish, and have learned that I am, by default, a European citizen and can work, play, and educate myself wherever this Euro heart and soul desires. This summer past opened up doors of dreams for me that we’re shut tight prior to, though for the moment, this nevereverland in Asia is my raison d’etre. I have, however, set my sights on a relocation to Shanghai next year, but since being back in Taiwan, WHO KNOWS. What is for sure, is that there is no more North America in my immediate, or far off future. COME VISIT.

Monks monking in Luang Prabang, Laos
Monks monking

Since my last pennings of German gibberish, I’ve trotted soils in Thailand, Cambodia, Laos (Laos I will write about again, Laos caressed me down), I’ve danced with devil under the pale moonlight of the Philippines, again, gone for broke in Japan where I existed solely on grapefruit sake and the fanciest of Hi Chew flavors, and of course, home sweet(?) home Canadiana … I’ve acquired new lenses, moved into the most humble of abodes, owned a rent-a-dog, and gained a roommate, best friend, mother, sister, and girlfriend. Allow me to introduce to you Audrey Harton. Dear Audrey, you are the warmth inside my purrito, I love you.

Beautiful Boracay
Boracay, Philippines

I promise promise to keep you more au courant with my Taiwacky antics, collective of hilarities and sorrows and all which make up my wonderful existence in my wonderful life in the wonderful land of green tea and dumplings. No more heart stuff after this. Something light. Something funny. SEND IN THE CLOWNS!! I leave you with photographs and pleads for Bridgehead coffee to my door. It’s almost my BIRTHDAY! 7F-1, No. 473 Song Jiang Road, Taipei City, TAIWAN. Ahem.

HUALIEN EXPRESS
HUALIEN EXPRESS

Spirited Sway in Juifen
Spirited Sway in Jiufen

The Temple of Doom
Angkor

Spirited Away
Spirited Sway in Jiufen

Rock In Hoes
'Rock In Hoes'

Choeung Ek Killing Fields
Choeung Ek Killing Fields

National Art Gallery of Canada
National Art Gallery

Taiwan Style
Taiwan Style

Ta ta…

read comments (2)
Halbschlaf im Froschpyjama
January 27, 2009 by Olivia Wycech

Bangkok is sundresses, backpackers, lady boys, fresh fruit with muesli, pad thai, and Euros. So many Euros. It’s HOT AND SUNNY and suuuuper cheap. Laos tomorrow.

LOOK WHAT I FOUND..

Halbschlaf im Froschpyjama

read comments (2)
Manila, Philippines
October 23, 2008 by Olivia Wycech

Am I losing you with these oh so serious million word entries? I’ll embark on this literary journey by telling you that today, I ate pig blood. I am lunching on tasty tofu, when I turn to my friend Shawn and ask ‘Why is this tofu so dark?’ ‘Oh because it’s cooked in pork blood, Olivia!’

So, I thought myself to be very well traveled before coming to Taiwan. I’ve climbed the Great Wall of China, swam in southern paradise, explored old and historic Europe, and so, so much more. I think that being exposed to traveling so young is what shaped me to be the type of individual to live abroad. My parents put more importance on seeing the world than the newest gadget on the shelf at the toy store. Thank you for this now, Mom and Dad, because I’m not sure how much I liked never owning a Barbie back then. I have little fear in anything, am fiercely independent (although some of you might be blinded to this right now, Liam), and find pleasure and stimulation in being submersed into a culture in which I cannot go about my daily routines speaking English. When people ask me why I came here, I tell them I was bored. Now, every night I go to sleep trying to tame this buzzing little brain of mine that is overloaded with everything I saw, learned, experienced…and ate…that day. I never sleep long hours and I am never tired. NOR DO I EVER GET ANXIETY. This is how my new brain works, and all this brain cost was a flight to Taiwan. Who woulda thunk it?

I met my friend Jeff (you know…Jeff Scott) in Manila last weekend. A little taste of home, finally. He had been on a boat in Dubai for three months and we’d been coordinating a rendez-vous somewhere in Asia. Fancy, right? The capital city of the Philippines is where we found ourselves. Manila occupies 38.3 square kilometers and has more than 1.6 million inhabitants. It is the second most populous city in South East Asia. The entire metropolitan area is home to over 14 million people. Picture all these people living in the most grimy and gritty city you ever seen. And this coming from someone who has seen what I have. Grimy, gritty, dirty, ghetto, poor, shady, polluted. But even in saying all of this, I LOVE MANILA!

Manila, Philippines

Jeff and I arrived separately, not knowing where to go or what to see. It was just like ‘HEY, I’ll meet you in Manila on Friday.’ I landed in Manila late in the afternoon on Friday, the weather was something wild, like I so well illustrated to you with words and photos in my last entry. Sunshine and marshmallow clouds the whole way, but upon approaching Manila by air, the cities core was almost perfectly encircled by a single storm cloud slamming rain on the city below, but providing a magnificent picture to those above it. See photo in “Deported to Care-a-lot”. At the airport I got in a cab, actually two cabs before I found one that wouldn’t rip me off, a game I became good at by the weekends end. Manila’s first language is English, seriously, I didn’t know that. It having colonial Spanish influence, I got in the cab and said Hola! I’m retarded. So the cab driver chats me up, asks where I’m from (first question from every Asian local, where are you from?). I tell him from Canada and he tells me he has relatives in Toronto. I ask him if he’s ever been and he says ‘Only in my dreams’. I say strange that, since the Philippines, and all of Asia, has until now only been in my dreams. I’ll always carry this exchange with me through my travels. With no address and no direction, I find my hotel, and finally, my first friend from Canada. Jeff and I have dinner at the Hobbit House tonight, yes, totally Lord of the Rings. It is staffed entirely by…can you guess? Midgets. Apparently, here you are supposed to be able to toss a midget onto a velcro wall, there was none of that here, but my God this is something I must do in my life. I did, however, finally have a TACO. In mentioning tacos, I wrote to my friend Ricky on a postcard how Taiwan and Mexico need to unite. Too many English teachers, not enough tacos. What we need are dumplings stuffed with seasoned beef and guac to dip. Tacolings. YUM! Anyway, we were staying in Ermita and Friday we simply bar hopped the local bars between there and Malate. We were drunk by 10hPM. Ermita is Manila’s old red light district, so it was dirty and real. Beggars, prostitutes, kids with guns, mothers sleeping on the cement cuddling their bare infants, all of this in the bulls eye circle of the Malate night life. Woah.

Manila, Philippines

Saturday morning we’re right hung over, obvs. After inhaling some breakfast slash really really late lunch, Jeff packs it in for a nap. Actually what he really did was tell me he was going to the gym, but he just napped. I get in a cab and tell the driver that I want to go to Intramuros. I’d read about the many beautiful churches and cathedrals that filled the streets of the especially historic walled city within Manila. In hindsight, strolling these streets was maybe not a venture to be had alone, but nobody slows me down. Some of my most wonderful photos from his trip were taken in Intramuros. Manila, Philippines
Old, grimy, gritty, REAL…like most of Manila, but this place was special. Men, women, children alike were SO EXCITED to watch me pass, they’d call out to the their family members for a look. Like they only saw a white girl once a year. I had children by the numbers following me around, waving, smiling, surrounding me with this warmth and happiness that I was so stunned to feel from people living in this environment. 80%, or something, of the population in the Philippines live in poverty, and they’re all smiling. Intramuros, Manila, PhilippinesI walked for 3 hours, seeing, hearing, feeling things I have never experienced before. My feet blistered but hangover beaten, I took a cab up Roxas Blvd to the boardwalk and took pictures of the sunset at Manila Bay. My elbows and knees resembled those of a 2 year old after a rough play in the park, they were dirty and bleeding from trying to capture a photo somehow more perfect than the one before. Walking back to my ‘hotel’, I say it like that because a room with 2 beds, 1 dead cockroach, and a rusty shoe box sized hot water heater is not exactly a hotel room to me. I’m just learning how to REALLY travel. So since I washed my hair with PALMOLIVE shampoo that morning (like Palmolive dish soap from home, in fact it probably was dish soap), a loud neon sign advertising a cut, shampoo, and blow dry for 40 pesos invited me in. And so you know, 40 pesos is $1CAD. You can pretty much do anything in this city on 40 pesos. I did this everyday I was there. Amazing. We had dinner Saturday at Tabu, some swanky supper club we found in a magazine. It also was the one electro club in Manila, and we found it, how random and perfect. Dinner turned into bottles of white wine and Tequila with our new Philippino friends, who accompanied us from one bar to the next. Not before a fight with this Cesar from Venezuela who I might have misled, we found ourselves in the Red Light District (100% my idea). It was only minutes here before I see my buddy, my dear friend Jeff, never watching out for me, DITCH ME and my little black dress and hop in a cab with… This time it took me three cabs before I got one that wouldn’t rip me off. Remember, ALWAYS RUN THE METER. One crooked cabby tried to charge me 500 pesos for what was in the end an 80 peso cab ride. Being white, we are walking dollar signs. The blonde stuff doesn’t help much. But really, the kicker here really is being left alone at 5am, in the red light district, in Manila, in a short black dress, with no phone, no address. I told the taxi McDonalds in Ermita, and filled up with hot cakes for the walking tour of Ermita at…6am? I WISH…I could keep telling this story but I have to bring us to Sunday morning.

We wake up, SO HUNGOVER, nothing that a bowl a Pho can’t fix. It always cures whatever type of cancer you might have developed the night before, mine this day was throat cancer. I hate wasting any time, so after I get my hair washed and blow dried (how will I ever wash my own hair again?), we head out to the Greenview mall, home to all of Manila’s knock offs. I didn’t buy anything because I was more interested in getting myself to Smokey Mountain, Manila’s slums. Smokey Mountain is essentially where all of Manila’s garbage goes, and also home to far too many Philippinos, scavenging for any morsel of something good we may have dropped in the garbage the night before. Google this, Smokey Mountain + Manila. Anyway, cabs here cost nothing, we sat in a cab driving around this immensely congested yet spectacularly scenic (in all it’s gritty glory) city for an hour and half, and it costed a whopping $2CAD. These cabs had no door handles, nor…window openers…guys I’m drawing a blank, what are those called? But they got us around. When I said to the cab driver ‘Smokey Mountain’, he looked at me as if to say ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS??? But he took us for the ride. Hanging my head out the taxi window, I bought a beer, a glass bottle of coke, and a pack of cigarettes for 40 pesos, Again, $1CAD. Upon arriving near Smokey Mountain, it was nearing dark and I was forbidden from leaving the cab, nor did we even really get as far as we wanted to, but I saw what I was there for. I saw children chasing each other around piles of burning garbage 2 stories high, I saw older kids playing in whatever abandoned car or piece of machinery was nearest to their house, their house being a shanty box made of 10 or so pieces of rusted tin and some cardboard, I saw, I smelled, I heard, I felt. This went on and on. And on. I grew up in Orleans, a suburb of Ottawa. We were the first people to live in our house, and my community had only begun developing. What I saw in the Philippines, I had never seen anything like it before. Guys I’ve never even seen this in the movies, and even if I have, the effect is nowhere near as mind blowing as the experience. Mind blowing, like I have no mind. I sat quietly and cried, fucking right I cried, in the front seat all the way home. This is a city of such contrast, of rich to poor, because driving out of the slums so close I could still smell the garbage, in the front seat, through my tears, I see just blocks ahead of me a skyline of rich, modern, towering structures that build up downtown Manila.

Know this, that it is not without reservations, guilt perhaps, that I continue writing about my escapades of this Sunday evening. But the days go on. Jeff’s friend Chris flew in tonight from Cyprus. Our Philippino friend Vince treated us all to a smashing Greek dinner in the Greenbelt, once again in this city of contrasts, Greenbelt being the fine dining and shopping district, where I was once again left with a bottle of white wine to nurse all on my own. Soon after my flaming mango dessert, I’m itching for midget wrestling in the red light district, again. What can I say? It’s a wild party over there. Someone in our group whose name I will omit stopped to buy Viagra from a friendly ripper offer on the street, and we found entertainment in feeding it to our gay friend and taking him to rippers if not to see if we could turn him straight. It didn’t work. The Viagra nor turning him straight. He left shortly before I took off all my clothes and wrestled Chris in boxing ring. Umm.

Manila, Philippines

3:30am and I finally get to indulge on a honey massage. A one hour fully body massage for $10CAD. I could live here, you know. We all predicted I would sleep in for my flight, so to not disappoint, I woke up losing my shit at 9:30am – flight at 11:15. Last nights clothing, last nights make up, white wine seeping out of my skin, I get to the airport after my counter is already closed for my flight, the only flight to Taipei that day. Juggling coffee, my bags, and all of Jeff’s diving gear (a bag full of knives), airport staff thought I was cute (along with all of Manila, maybe I forgot to mention, SEXY SEXY YOU SO SEXY MA’AM) and not only checked me in but carried all my bags and escorted me to my plane. Ahh yess. Attention, finally. Also, ask me what was in my pouch. Ask me!

Why no one told me I wasn’t allowed to leave the country on a visitors visa, I don’t know, assholes, but immigration in Taipei sure told me when I reentered the country and they stamped my passport with a bright bold 30 DAY VISA EXEMPT LANDING VISA. On this visa exempt entry, it is illegal to work in Taiwan and also impossible to process any papers to attain a working visa. AFTER EVERYTHING, all those visa issues I had just overcome, I now am left with no option but within the next 30 days, leave the country (don’t forget, I’m on an island so I have to fly, $$$$$$$$$$$) and go to a country that has a Taiwanese consulate and reapply for another 60 day visitors visa ($$$$$$$$$$$), rush it (more $$$$$$$$$$$) before I can come back to Taiwan and process my working papers.

WHY

ME

But It all makes a good story, right?

My trip to the Philippines was a wild party, but I only allow myself that by balancing it well with those genuine reasons we travel. Seeing, experiencing, living, learning. Manila opened my eyes up nice and big to the way the other part of the world lives, a part of the world that with no running water, no electricity, and the entire population of the Philippines garbage as a floor in their home, visa runs and broken hearts are the least of their concerns, yet spirits are high, laughter is plenty, and life goes on. So it goes.

Amen.

read comments (3)
Deported to Care-a-lot
October 21, 2008 by Olivia Wycech

So I came up with this wild idea to move to Asia in January of 2008. Leave my life in Ottawa, my comfortable, established, and easy life in Ottawa where I had it pretty good. I lived in a bubble, so I’ve been told. I wonder how many people really thought I would go? The timing in my life at which I made this decision was impeccable, I think. I was bored, under stimulated, under challenged, lost, and had major heart problems (not like pacemaker kind of heart problems, but that stupid lovey dovey bull). I spent the next 7 months preparing, budgeting, and planning for the move across the pond that separates me from you, so many of those hours spent downloading music, movies and TV in preparation for lonely nights in Taiwan. Funny, since I really have not had a moment to even think about what it was I downloaded, actually I barely have half a second to plug in and charge my iPod on most days, pluck my eyebrows, and even sometimes, pee, forget about writing an entry. I have been SO BUSY, sorry for my lack of literary love in your lives. You missed me, it’s okay. It’s fancy, you know, fancy that my life really only spares me minutes to write while on board planes filling up my passport..

Okay, while I was busy gaining 10 pounds drinking milk teas in the last few weeks, some other things happened, obviously (I shit you not, I drink SO MUCH TEA, I got called out for visiting 1 tea shop twice in a day, so I’ve since started splitting it up and going to 2 just out of shame…). Typhoon Jangmi came and left. It battered us with a force that makes Typhoon Sinlaku feel like just a little game of twister. What Jangmi was to typhoons is like what King Kong is to Gorillas (or Apes? Whatever). A monster in its demeanor, and as much of a monster in its size. I saw Jangmi pick up scooters and toss them around like kids throwing balls in an Ikea ballroom. Shielded from its power behind metal grates, my memories of this storm are limited to… … guys, does anyone remember what I did that weekend??? Anther day in this Taiwacky life (stolen term right here), I got a Taiwan tattoo…slash wicked scooter exhaust burn on my lower right calf. It even looks like the island, really. It’s healing well now, but only after I was adamant on it having developed Gangrene and that I would soon be fleshless. I am pretty sure I got drunk and slept through my hospital visit, actually I’m sure of that and am now fully convinced alcohol, vodka to be sure, cures Gangrene. From flesh eating diseases to raving, Steve Aoki and Uffie blessed this city with some sweet electro grooves, but my words on this whole affair will be left out of my blog, although is a story of sorts to tell. They most definitely left Taipei leaving an impact of many kinds and on many people. Interesting! Taipei is a small city for big people, if that makes much sense to you. Anyway, I finally escaped this heavily polluted (but so damn homely) city for a breathe of fresh air in the Wulai mountains of Taipei County, and to party at a hot spring resort. Soaking up hot sulfur amidst a tropical setting, flashy friends, sparkling champagne, and a DJ above the hot tub throwing down D.A.N.C.E…my life. Franz & METhe morning after was a whole new buzz, we wandered through the mountainous roads (LOOKING FOR AN AFTER PARTY, IN THE MOUNTAINS, FOR SERIOUS, HA HA) and it had been drizzling rain all night so the air was thick with a fog weaving through lush and leafy green mountain tops, moving quickly and ever changing like a river running gracefully through your dreams. Small and quaint Chinese towns line these mountains, picturesque and so very Asian. Guys, come visit.

Wulai

I write you this at an altitude of 35000 feet and about 200 nautical miles outside of Taipei (pilot told me so) flying alongside the most shapely and dramatic clouds I’ve ever seen. I know the view from a plane is always something stunning that we try and photograph so to share the moment with another person at a later time but really, no one will look at that photograph and see what we saw, feel what we felt at that very moment, not to mention even care. You know? Well, my photograph will be different, I promise, comments please. I took this landing in Manila, Philippines..

Flying into Manila

The clouds, these clouds with unfathomable depth, these clouds so unique from one another in individuality and characteristics; one is a great hand reaching for us and will gently wrap its fluffy fingers around the plane and give it a little shake, reminding the captain who is really in charge. This is what turbulence really is, now you know. More clouds, there is a cluster that with a little bit more wind to shape them, could easily morph into Care-a-lot, and a little bit of hash and I could probably reach out and play with Care Bears. Actually, every so often I feel like the plane might have taken a wrong turn and veered into No Heart’s land. That’s the thing with the weather out here, one minute it’s sunshine and lollipops, then steer your eyes to the left only 5 degrees and there are dark angry beasts breaking through the frail clouds to rain on your parade. Wait, perhaps I shouldn’t say they spoil all the fun, since I love these unexpected shifts in climate. Tropical climate, I LOVE it. At home when you look up into the sky, you see a couple kilometers of blue sky, some clouds, probably a few birds, MAYBE a kite too. Here, you look up and you see thousands of kilometers in every direction, or so it feels like. Mountain tops, colors reflecting off hidden prisms tucked into the sky, never before seen creatures soaring through the clouds that posses this distinctiveness I rambled about, and perhaps whole kingdoms living above you, which to it we are just a picture it its snow globe. Here, there is so much depth to the atmosphere around you. But you know, it’s probably just the pollution but when you have an imagination it can be anything.. We’re in an active part of the world, the earth beneath us is shifting, everything is in constant motion, you can feel it in the air, you can feel it in your soul. Are you with me? If you live in Canada, you are not. In Canada, I lived on a rock, a stand still rock. Or under a rock, so the expression goes.

Okay, something real. Did you hear how I almost got deported? Well, not really deported, but I needed a hook after rambling about clouds and Care Bears. I landed in Taipei on August 8th, 2008 with a 60 days tourist visa. Time FLIES, let me tell you. Two months flew by faster than you can say OLIVIA, YOU RETARD!!! October 7th came from outer space and slapped me in the face. I still didn’t have a work permit, I’m flat broke, mid week, and need to get to another country and apply for a new visa. If you overstay your existing visa here in Taiwan, they basically cut off your left ear and throw it off of Taipei 101. Come on, this is Asia, that kinda shit gets tourism. It’s this or banishment, and there is no Romeo and Juliet shit that’s going to happen for you here when you’re white (still trying to get used to that). Visa runs are not cheap, with this being an island and all. Air travel is your only choice with Hong Kong being the most reasonable. Picture this (if you can’t, I’m attaching a photo so you can), 2 hours before immigration closes and I’m standing outside their office in the pouring rain, filling out paperwork hoping for an extension. This all and not without tears, frustration, panic, you know…my usual style. I got EVERYONE fired up and involved. And then…extension granted. Just like that. The next day my work permit arrived.

Me working on being deported...

What can I say, my life is certainly lacking any dull moments, every breathe I take and every move I make (just like Puff Daddy said it) is a story, an adventure, and an experience that feeds my hungry mind and then releases small bits of it back out through my finger tips to try and share with you. My words and my photos, as fine as they are, have nothing on my life out here, I’ve said this before and I’m saying it now, I wish you could see through my eyes, smell through my nose, hear with my ears. ‘magine?

So get this … I just spent four days in Manila, Philippines…

read comments (0)