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Diary Acesta este jurnalul lui Jan. Pentru a primi o copie prin mail inregistreaza-te pe formularul de contact. Momentan jurnalul este numai in engleza, catalana si spaniola.
‹ Previous (15/05/2009) LUNA Next (2009-07-14)› ‹ Previous (2009-05-29 - Thailand) TARA Next (2009-07-03 - Vietnam)› Malaysia Kuala Lumpur (see on map) 14/06/2009:
Yesterday it was a happy day, although at night I went to sleep with a feeling of sorrow. The day was happy because we were invited to the celebration of the wedding of the brother of Faizal. The weddings in Malaisia are celebrated on different days, a day at the house of the family of the girlfriend and another day at the house of the family of the boyfriend. One of the reasons of these celebrations in parallel is the great quantity of guests who invite each other, who in the case of the brother of Faizal could be counted by the hundreds (they told us they expected about a thousand people). In any case, that did not frighten Elma, the mother of Faizal and of the groom, at the house of which the wedding was celebrated; then Elma is one of the most hospitable women of the world, who has lodged more than 350 people through couchsurfing in two years. We arrived at eleven in the morning, when they were still preparing, although not much later people started to arrive and delicious food started to be served. Little more late arrived the couple, accompanied by the noise of different Harley Davidson and a band of drums. The couples were received and a throne was adapted, where they were photographed and blessed; and later in the nuptial table, which had a special menu and much more delicious than that of the rest of guests, because according to the tradition, the couple has to feel as kings for a day. Among the different guests there were different people from couchsurfing, friends of Zaikha and Elma and guests of them. Among these there was a boy from Iran who showed his worry about the results of the elections in Iran of the previous day (in Malaysia there are many Iranians working and studying). According to the official communiqué, Armadinejad had won the elections with an absolute majority, but the leader of the opposition and the Iranian boy assured that there had been an electoral fraud. The boy wanted to go to protest in front of the embassy of Iran, although he was also very frightened by the consequences that they could make. In the end we, a north American and a Malaysian girl, decided to accompany the boy. In the embassy of Iran in KL there were not too many people and the police dispersed us threatening us that if we did not stop they would take strong measures. Even then, the people met in the site from where the campaign of Mosavi (the opposing leader) had been organised. The site was full to burst, with about a hundred or two hundred people completely indignated and looking at the television to receive new news of the conflict that was exploding through the streets of different cities in Iran. As they explained us, observers of the party of Mosabi had attended the counting of ballot papers in the embassy of Iran in KL and the result had been 80% in favour of Mosavi, but in the morning, the embassy announced officially that the result had been 70% plus for Armadinejat. All the world was convinced that the same fraud had been done in all Iran, and taking into account some declarations of Armadinejad according to which, to lie to favour the country or the Islam is not a sin. In the end we returned home sad, impotent and worried with our friends in Iran. It is not only about the result of some elections, it is about the future of millions of people that want to live with more freedom. The people are very disappointed and a revolution can be produced, and the revolutions can finish with many deaths, independent of victory or not. Cameron Highlands (see on map) 18/06/2009:
We have left our friends in KL for some days and gone towards the mountainous area called Cameron Highlands, where the landscape and the temperatures are excellent. Alexandra, tired to sweat in the heat, immediately was enchanted, and I also. Despite passing many hours in the hotel connected to Internet and consulting in direct and with worry of the subsequent events to the elections of Iran, I have dedicated each of the three days to do an excursion through the surroundings, while Alexandra remained relaxed walking through the village of Tanah Rata, at an altitude of 1380 m. The first day I walked up to the next mountain of Gunung Beremban (1812 m), walking among different greenhouses all cultivated, and going up on a small road that passed through the middle of the jungle. In some moments, the path was really steep, and if it were not for the roots of the trees where i could grab me,it would have been impossible to continue. Anyway, the magic of the path was captivating at all times, walking among lianas; below fallen trees; above roots, moss and leafs; for the side of pretty orchids, mushrooms, insects; and surrounded at all times by the intense noise of other animals. The path was quite well marked, but not always, for when going back i had to choose between a path to the right and another to the left, and that of the left keept getting complicated slowly until I arrived a slippery descent through the humid bed of a river. On the second day, I did a hike simpler up to the mountain of Junung Jasar (1670 m), in the summit of which I found myself a man with a big butterflies collection (through the surroundings of Cameron Highlands there are many farms of butterflies and insects where they are exposed, alive or dead). When going down for the other side of the mountain, I decided to do hitchhiking to return to Tanah Rata and they immediately took me (a good news for David and Maria). And today, I have left the mountain and the jungle, to see another attraction of Cameron Highlands. I have caught a local bus and went to the plantations of tea of Boh or Sungai Palas, where the sights of the small bushes (similar to bonsáis) of the plants of tea covering the laps of the mountains of the surroundings were impressive. I have been walking through the middle of the plantation, going over the labyrinthine paths that create the plants until I found different workers (they all seemed of Indian origin) that they cut the tender leafs of the plants of tea filling a big bag. When returning I did hitchhiking again, a family of Singapore, and a driver of a van empty of passengers took me to for the local price of the bus. Perhentian islands (see on map) 23/06/2009: Alexandra was feeling too well in Cameron Highlands and was impossible to be convinced to visit the Perhentian islands, although she did not manage either to convince me to stay. So, we decide to separate for a few days and meet again in KL at the house of our friends. And, even if i missed Alexandra, the visit to the islands was worth, mainly for the sea fauna that I could observe. Each of the four days that I passed in the small island of Perhentian I rented some glasses and some feet of duck and swam for the corals of the coast, observing many goldfish, some of which of a considerable measure, as different blankets (1 meter of diameter) and different families of fish Napoleón with copies of a metre and a half, which i feared when they were showing curiousity with me and approached me. I also observed different sharks every day, some of which of 2 meters long, but only they frightened with the name, for i knew that these did not attack the human beings and on the other hand they did not show much interest with my presence. One of the days I also hired a tour to visit different coralline areas far from the beach and to see a big turtle swimming in the water. Apart from the fish that lived under the water, the island was only interesting for some great lizards that from time to time crossed calmly by the path, with some of them measuring almost two meters. But leaving the fauna aside, the island was not too interesting, besides being very expensive. I found a room of hotel shared with 8 people for 3euros, facilitating me the communication with other travellers of the island, most of whom were Englishmen (and the rest of Anglo-Saxon countries) and many youngsters, with whom it was difficult to integrate, although I maintained some interesting conversations about religions with some of them. In general they were very inexperienced travellers, many of which had been robbed in the island because they did not pay attnetion: they had forgotten the door open to the room, had fallen sleeping drunk on the beach, had gone to swim leaving the possessions on the beach... So, I passed apart from maintaining some interesting conversations quite a lot of hours by myself sweating in the bed of the hotel, following the correction of my novel and being still worried about the events of Iran, although in the island i was completely disconnected. Kuala Lumpur (see on map) 29/06/2009:
As i returned from the Perhentian islands and met again with Alexandra at the house of Zaikha and Faizal, I recovered the connection of Internet and I obsessed following the post-electoral conflict of Iran again. Men, women, youngsters and old men (among whom there could be our friends) kept dying in the pacific demonstrations of Iran, killed by snipers, to knocks of felling axe or knocked merciless. I read compulsively the depositions of people who had been arrested and the tortures that they had suffered, knocking them until they broke their bones, cutting them the fingers, drowning them in water or even raping them (men as well as women). I felt impotent, powerless to help some of the populations that have treated us best during our journey, but that live under this bloody regime. I was conscious that, parallelly to this conflict, there were many other conflicts in the world where a lot other people suffered under still worse regimes, but was completely stuck emotionally on Iran. Maybe that's why, to the same day that I arrived to Kuala Lumpur, I started to feel a headache that was increased the following days with intensity. I had to lay in bed powerless and to turn off of my mind the imagenes of the demonstrations in Tehran and the people that died shot by the basiji. Finally, on the third day, the headache was so unbearable that I decided of visiting a doctor, who prescribed some tablets for me, indicating that the cause could be in my immersions in water under 3 or 4 m in the islands Perhentian. Really, the tablets that the doctor prescribed for me made the headache disappear, and the following day I was capable of reconnecting myself to Malaysia to attend the last meeting of Couchsurfing. The previous three days different meetings had been produced, one of which in the previous night that had managed to attend about forty members of couchsurfing that were talking and drinking until the dawn. Maybe by that, many people to the meeting of yesterday was not presented, although sufficient so that it was nice. Among the assistants there was Roman, our Swiss friend with whom we expect to cross paths again, and an Iranian with whom we try to do more bearable the news that arrived from his country joking on Armadinejad and the basiji. And today in the night, with the thicket of aeroplane towards Vietnam in the pocket, we have said goodbye to Zaikha and Faizal (and their daughters Aresha and Zara) that have treated us very well during the ten days that have been housing us. Really they have made us feel at home, and it has again saddened us to say goodbye to our friends. Anyway, the four of us have expectations to meet for the third time, when they travel to Europe again or when we visit Malaysia again, which for sure we will do, for we have loved the country and its people. Vietnam Ho Chi Ming City (see on map) 03/07/2009:
There were made so many films that, inevitably, when it is named Vietnam one remembers the war that the United States played the lead against the communism. It seems a little unfair to start our story of Vietnam mentioning this war, because the country seems to have forgotten the fights and the suffering of the past, but not in a complete way. We have arrived to Ho Shi Min City (HSMC), the biggest city of Vietnam (almost 7 million inhabitants), in the south, which I identify more with its old name of Saigon. HSMC was the name that received the city, when United States abandoned the war, in honour of the big national hero Ho Shi Min; the revolutionary that founded and presided over the communist Vietnam and initiated the war against the United States. But not only the names remember the last wars, in HSMC the museum of the war is exposing the suffering of the people of Vietnam . In the museum, it surprised me to observe techniques of torture and of imprisonment very similar to those of the Khmer Rouges, wondering who copied who, if the communists the CIA or the CIA to the communists. Unfortunately, observing the photographs and reading the explanations, I also remembered the tortures and repression that recently the people of Iran are suffering, reinforcing a belief of mine, that the wars and repression are unacceptable in any place and moment. Even so, I also admit that there are wars more abominable than others, and that the one in Vietnam could be an example, where the orange agent was used by the Americans, an defoliant that devastated the jungle where the guerrillas of the Vietcong were hidden but that also incorporated some toxins that were absorbed by the human beings, provoking severe deformations to the posterior generations. These consequences are a taboo for the current society of Vietnam, but there keep being as it explained us Laura (http://goodmorningsaigon.blog.free.fr/), a French girl that worked some hours as a volunteer taking care of boys and girls with mental and physical problems caused by the orange Agent. Laura and Victor are a French couple of Couchsurfing that lodged us in their big house in HSMC. The house was a pretty building of 3 or 4 floors, but of only 2.5 or 3 meters of width, a common characteristic to the majority of homes in HSMC. There were also other elements representative of HSMC, as the great quantity of cables that there were hanged by the street, as in some places of India, but tidier and clean (or as in Bucharest, as Alex reminded). The great quantity of motorcycles that circulated through the streets, which we had to keep avoiding if we wanted to pass to the other side, was also surprising. Also i was amused to observe most of the restaurants and bars having some minuscule seats and tables, equal to those for small children in the kindergarten, although they did not stop being comfortable. On the other hand, Vietnam keeps being a communist country, although it seems completely dominated by the capitalism, in fact, it has not changed only the nonexistence of democracy and the freedom of politic parties, individual or of association. During the four days that we spent in HSMC, it has rained quite a lot, remembering that we were in full rainy season, a season that fortunately we have kept avoiding in the majority of countries visited during these 3 years. Even so, the rain has not prevented us from going out with Laura and Victor to eat in different delicious and economic restaurants and to visit some of the monuments of HSMC, which includes some colonial buildings and different Pagodas or Chinese temples. Visiting the temples I reflected with the fascination that the religions produce me, although already does time that i stopped believing in God and in the dogmatic truths, and perhaps because of that they surprise me that in spite of their falseness they continue being a big fountain of inspiration for millions of people, which keep dedicating time, money and faith. Hoi An (see on map) 05/07/2009:
From HSMC we caught a nocturnal train to the North, sleeping comfortably in two beds in a shared compartment with a family that had two very noisy children. The day after at noon we arrive in Danang from where we caught a bus towards Hoi An, a pretty small town on the edge of the river Thu Bo. Hoi An is a town with narrow streets and with an architecture influenced by the Chinese, Japanese and European, due to the importance of the town as a trading port during the 16th centuries and XVII. This old charm of Hoi An, has faded away a little with the great quantity of tourists that strolls through the town and who has contributed towards changing its physiognomy, each house has converted into a tailor's shop, or a restaurant, hotel, shop of food, or exhibitions. Anyway, some of the former pagodas, which as always are interesting to visit, are still preserved. On the other hand, there were also some trades with quite a lot of charm, preserving old craft traditions of the town: creating lamps of clothe, paintings with thread of different colours and sewing nice dresses of European and oriental style. And it was the great quantity of tailor's shops that it made Alex decide to make a very pretty dress of pastel tonality that she will use for the first time at the beginning of the next year, when we have intention of getting married. Today, the second day of walking through the town, we met David casually, a Spanish traveller that after a few months on the road is also catching the taste of travelling and starts to study the possibility to continue with this type of life. Together we continued walking through the town and through the market, the most authentic part, where almost all the saleswoman women and buyers wore a hat of straw of Chinese style. There we also observed how in some places they ate eggs boiled with the chickens inside (right some days before appearing), a traditional food in Philippines according to David. Unfortunately, walking through the market we also we realised that two or three times we had to drink to a price more expensive than other places, because we were tourists. Even so, we did not become annoyed, because the price continued being economic and the deceit was not as exaggerated as in India; or with the Vietnamese it was simply more bearable. Hue (see on map) 08/07/2009:
The stretch by train from Danang to Hue was very pretty, with the line flanking the coast cut through different luxuriant and arrogant mountains. The landscape was charming, but it surprised the fascination that the Vietnamese of the train showed, getting up from their seats to contemplate the marvels of their country. Many times, the landscape was favoured by the nonexistence of trees that allowed some excellent sights. Unfortunately, i sensed that the ground floors, some of which they seemed to wrap old trunks of tree, were not originally of the area and that they only prospered when the forest disappeared under the effects of the awful orange agent. The hotels in Hue are far a little from the train station and we left ourselves convinced by a taxi driver to take us freely to a cheap hotel. Naturally we went to the hotel that the taxi driver recommended us, but the receptionist showed us an incredible room for only 120.000 dongs (7 $) and we decide to stay. The room was big, with balcony and windows, air-conditioned, fridge... It was the best hotel room where we had been and Alexandra decided to keep the following two days resting while I visited the city. But today at night, when going to pay the three nights the girl from the reception told me that the price was of 12 $ instead of the 120.000 dongs that I had understood, and the conflict has broken out. Sincerely, I do not know whether the girl tricked me with the price or I got it wrong, in any case, those of the hotel had wined because they had our passports. Finally, after quite a lot of discussion, we have decided to pay the two nights for 12 $ and to leave to look for another room of hotel for tonight, that we have found for 5 $, a too expensive price taking into account that it was one of the worst rooms where we have slept. In any case, leaving the adventures of the hotel aside, Hue is a very interesting city. Among the different attractions of the city there is a big imperial enclosure that was strongly bombarded by the Americans but that still preserves interesting pavilions and temples. Hue also account with different real tombs (which I did not visit), different Pagodas and a covered bridge that I have visited today pedalling with bicycle among different plantations of rice. During the early visit to one of the pagodas or Buddhist temples, I had the chance of attending to a long ceremony celebrated before eating, with edges, touches of gong and stone, veneration of the bowls of rice, silence... The monks were seated in the table dressing yellow tunics, the youngest were standing dressing grey tunics, and parallel to the celebration different, older women dressed in grey did genuflections. No one condemn me with the look for my presence, simply they smiled at me while they continued with that ceremony that was so special that probably was celebrated every day. It was in another temple where I had the opportunity of talking with a young monk, dressed in grey and with the head shaved except for a long lock of hair, that was falling on the forehead. The boy was called Dat and was 14 years old, explaining to me that it has been two years that he has been in the monastery, together with 30 more boys of his age. It seemed that he was feeling very well there, touching the gong when the tourists entered the temple or when the faithful ones folded and adored the images of Budha. ‹ Previous (15/05/2009) LUNA Next (2009-07-14)› ‹ Previous (2009-05-29 - Thailand) TARA Next (2009-07-03 - Vietnam)› |
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