Overdue

Time for a bit of catch-up, I suppose.

As usual, that time between January and April has flown by in the blink of an eye....

January brought a snow day,

the afore-mentioned trip to see the some pretty lights,

intermission, where the 6th graders participated in Japanese cultural activities and an exchange with a local school.

and a cold but refreshing hike or two...

February was a whirlwind of both fun social events and the usual craziness of teaching, plus the added bonus of the Google Apps Summit hosted by ASIJ, which was a fairly intense two days of all things Google and how we can use them to enrich the educational experiences of our students.

The month was capped off with a welcome 4-day weekend, during which my friend and colleague Karena and I headed to Taipei, Taiwan!

The bottom line: we had fun, despite the rain.

And it did, in fact, rain quite a bit.

We arrived at our hotel after a bus ride from the airport, and quickly headed out for a walk under cloudy skies.

Sidewalk arcades kept us under cover, past stores and lines of parked mopeds.

We wandered a fascinating market area with all sorts of food products (dried scallops, mushrooms in all forms, cartilage….).  A random dinner stop turned out to be delicious bargain, and some temples looming mysterious in the dark as the rain started to fall made for some great exploring. 

The walk home yielded a park full of glowing, larger-than-life figures placed around a park for the annual lantern festival. 

We made an effort to get out the door the next morning, riding the metro north towards Damshui, checking out the neighborhoods as we cruised above ground. We stopped at Guandu temple, busy with tour buses full of people there to do their offering thing, flowers and fruit and ‘god money’ and packaged snacks, lighting incense and leaving sticks at various altars.

We follwed the tunnel to the many-armed Guanyin, with a thousand arms and eyes (yes, I had to look that up) and explored the hillside park, with great views of the vibrant orange roof and assorted decorations.

By the time we arrived in Damshui, the spitting sky had turned to a light but persistent drizzle, and we wandered a market for as long as we could before getting sick of it and taking cover for coffee.  The market was interesting in that stalls were randomly placed along the sides – freshly butchered meat next to shoes next to piles of fruit.

Starving and cold, we found a place to have lunch on the water – closed-off against the rain, we were left to imagine how peaceful it would be during a balmy summer sunset… but we had delicious seafood chowder!

After a recovery nap we ventured to the Taipei Eye for some Chinese opera/acrobatics… which was… interesting. Rather screechy during the opera, quite entertaining during the acrobatics. 

Still cloudy the next day, so we slept in and sought out a proper American brunch (hashbrowns!) before heading to Taipei 101 for a lickety-split elevator ride, cloudy views of the city, and a close-up of the Damper that helps keep the thing stable in earthquakes and wind.

By the time we headed down, it was raining again, so we waited it out in (of all places) a TGI Friday’s, before heading to the night market in Shilin. 

A great wander – crowded, mind you, but we joined the throngs winding past brightly-lit shops pumping out pop music, food vendors adding steam and delcicious smells to the mix. One onion-and-pork filled dumpling later, we found the games section, piles of fresh fruit and bean cakes, a temple, and a basement foodcourt full of hiss and steam and stinky-tofu smell… we found a counter to perch at with no stinky tofu in sight,  then watched our veggies and shrimp being cooked right in front of us, and then watched all the eaters and the walkers and the chefs around us… 

Home and cleaned-up, we headed out for a taste of the Taipei nightlife before heading back to Tokyo the next morning, glad for a change of pace and a change of scenery. 

(Here are all the Taipei pics if you're so inclined!)

Lights

A few weeks ago, six ladies boarded a south-bound Shinkansen for a little adventure.

Two trains and a bus later, we found ourselves at Nabana-no-Sato, a botanical garden outside Nagoya, home of a light show involving millions of LED lights.

Being it was still afternoon, there wasn't much in way of lights.

And being winter, there wasn't much in way of botanicals...

...so we wandered and whiled away a few hours while the sun slowly descended and the crowds did too.

And then we joined the river of gawking Japanese visitors, soaking up the glow of a myriad of tiny glowing flowers that created a tunnel of light.

The main event was a light show that took us from sunrise over mount Fuji to forest and sea, rainstorms and rainbows, and the northern lights dancing in the sky.

Temples of Angkor (2)

Oh, the joys of an early-morning tuk-tuk ride.

Fresh air.

Fields and farms and stilted houses stirring,

Schools buzzing.

Small but intense, Bantei Srei has been decorated on every conceive-able surface, from the entrance to the temple proper, details popping.

I am far from alone here, but I glimpse the crowds as I exit and realize I am ahead of the main rush. Smug feelings ensue and I realize this has turned into a bit of a game, this avoidance of crowds, and it only adds to my glee at whipping down the road, cooled by the rushing breeze and admiring the views.

As the morning session of school lets out, uniformed kids ride double and wobble on bikes that are just a bit too tall, or walk on the shoulder in pairs and groups… everywhere giant silver pots smoke over charcoal fires: palm sugar boiling away. We pull over, and I sample the round fruit, scooping the fresh-tasting gelatinous parts and making a mess of the juice that bubbles up; and the rich lumps of sugar, presented in cleverly folded palm fronds.   

Day 3

My final day is book-ended by views of Angkor Wat’s iconic towers.

I join the throng of people moving across the causeway under a bright half-moon and a generous sprinkling of stars, as a string of lights marks the passage of vehicles along the road I too have just traveled, after leaving my hotel at 5 am.

I find a quiet-ish spot that, although not providing optimum sunrise and/or reflection viewing, was just as beautiful for the silence, as I take in what I came for  - the veil of stars drawn back, the shadowy towers growing sharper with each passing moment, as the blues shift and the horizon is illuminated.

 Then I leave.

Intrigued by the thought of arriving at Ta Prohm before the hordes, I  watch the sunrise break in its gold-and-fuschia glory from the back of my tuk-tuk, touching the top-most faces of the Bayon, and I smile, knowing I will return there later in the day.

And Ta Prohm is stunning.

 After a quick initial walk-through to get the lay of the land, I weave my way back from East to West…. and I know that what I am witnessing is nature destroying something historical, but that is part of the charm of this place: the trees taking back what is theirs.

Roots reaching, worming, cracking, covering, cascading, infiltrating.

Even in it’s original state there would have been  a multitude of paths to follow through this temple, and now with the added confusion of blocked passages it is a total maze -  so I take a crooked path, covering every square foot I can without ignoring ‘don’t go here’ signs or scrambling over anything higher than my head.

So much to take in.

The original structure, rife with carvings and statues.

The interaction between trees and stone.

The tumbled bricks and blocks.

I’m amazed at the numbers of people who traversed the wood-planked (more or less) direct path from one end of the temple to the other, but didn’t bother to take a few steps to the right or left down the myriad of side corridors. 

Meanwhile, I emerge three hours later.

To a day sultry and sunny.

Vehicles kick up dust,

As drums sound,

Playing for sales

In the parking lot.

I make quick work of the royal palace  of Angkor Thom, and the Baphuon temple.

Because it’s hot. And open.

And because I know the Bayon is waiting for me.

With its corner courtyards and solitary shade.

Casting lingering looks on my way out, it’s amazing how the faces that are so prominent up close almost disappear from a distance.

Lunch. A nap on the moat wall across from Angkor Wat, glad of the shade as I wait for the day to fade, saving the ‘best’ for last.

And it is amazing.

Massive and impressive on sheer size alone.

The whole perimeter carved with intricate bas-relief – battles and last judgments and the Churning of the Ocean of Milk.

Figures dance along the walls and columns march down corridors.

Sadly, (much like the Hall of Mirrors in Versaille. And cheetahs in Africa.), Angkor leaves me with an excuse to return in the future… the top-most level is closed for cleaning.

 I loiter on the east side, watching the sun sink: 12 hours later, on the flip side from where I watched it rise, and reluctantly I wander back across the causeway to meet my tuk-tuk, as lilac and pink clouds stripe the sky, feeling slightly melancholy at the end of my adventure.

**And, once again, if you feel like taking a look at the whole mess of photos, click here!**