Updates

Well, it's been a considerable amount of time since I've updated any of my websites and I was beginning to feel guilty about it. As it turns out, the internet connections and the computers here in India are extremely slow and in an attempt to upload pictures off of my camera onto www.kodakgallery.com I find myself in the same internet cafe for going on the 7th hour now. Because of this rare extended period of time spent at a computer I felt the need to do some stuff and make some updates.

Firstly, I've posted some new pictures on my myspace, check them out at www.myspace.com/mayzilla. They're from my travels thus far and the captions should tell you in which country they were taken. Secondly, this is the first blog I've posted on any of my websites in a while so feel free to relish in its glory. Don't expect much else because I don't plan to post again until I get back to the States. I'm keeping a journal of all of my travel stories so look out for an email or some other correspondance when I've posted them all online. Thirdly, I'm obviously still travelling but my money is quickly running out. After spending my second Christmas and soon to be New Year's Eve away from home I'm eager to get back, although I really like India and am loving my travels more than ever. I told my family I might be home around the end of January or sometime in February. That remains to be seen.
India is a strange and overwhelming country but I love how different it is from the other places I've travelled. That's about all I can say about it right now.

In conclusion please remember to write and I'll try to do the same. Being away from my family and friends in a place so chaotic it is refreshing to hear that things are stable and going well back home.

I love and miss you all and I hope you had or are continuing to have a great holiday.

Namaste, from India

A Taste of Wartime Misery...

With a Visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels

After seeing the tunnels by the DMZ I thought that maybe I had had my fill of old Viet Cong underground passageways, but it seemed as though a trip to Saigon would be incomplete without a visit to the famed Cu Chi tunnels. We booked a trip and yesterday we set out to take them in for ourselves.
The tour was combined with a visit to the Holy See of the quirky and utopian Cao Dai religion in Tay Ninh, Vietnam. In brief, Cao Dai is a religious creation of the 1920's that incorporates different aspects of five different religions, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucionism, Christianity and Islam. The main philosophy is that they try to override the reincarnation bit about Buddhism and go straight to heaven. They rely heavily on spiritual communication and prophecy and Victor Hugo, (yes, the French poet and playwright) is one of their three saints.
Anyway the most important thing about this first leg of our journey is that about twenty minutes before out bus got to the main temple the rain started downpouring. The bus dropped us off in the parking lot and we made a dash for the guard shack to "wait out the worst of it". Well, the worst of it never distinguished itself and it was clear that it wasn't going to let up. Having travelled to Vietnam in the peak of monsoon season without an umbrella, poncho or raincoat I found myself predictably unprepared. I took off my flip flops and made a dash for the main entrance. By the time I jumped and slid my way onto the marble steps of the temple the ends of my hair were dripping water and my shirt was clinging to me, (a rather inappropriate appearance for a religious service to say the least). Call it a religious revelation or call it meteorological intuition but with one look up towards the heavens I could tell this was a look I was going to have to put up with for most of the day.
Parts of my pants had started to dry after lunch and by the time our bus pulled up to the ticket booth of Cu Chi, a sensation I wouldn't have for long. First we watched a 20 minute long black and white video documenting the atrocities of war. The audio was echoey and the resolution was bad and combined with the warmth of the room I found myself drifting off. I wasn't at a deep enough point of unconsciousness however to avoid hearing the pro-North Vietnamese propaganda video refer to the Americans fighting in the Vietnam war as "a crazy pack of devils".
The Cu Chi district of Vietnam is rural farmland that during the Vietnam war was the epicenter of the National Liberation Front's geurilla forces. These were the supporters of Ho Chi Minh's communist Northern army that were embedded in the Southern area below the DMZ, hazzardously close to the capital of the South, Saigon. The Americans knew of the strong guerilla presence in the area and in an attempt to eradicate the infiltrators and, for lack of a better expression, bombed, gassed, burned, chemically torched and razed the shit out of the whole area. Despite the insurmountable destruction caused on the agriculture, the people, and the topography they were unsuccessful at destroying the geurilla troops and as a result they continued to play a significant role in causing the American withdrawl of the region and the eventual defeat of the South.
Anyway, after the movie we walked through the replanted jungle to get a taste of what it was like to live or fight in the region during the war. Our guide demonstrated a variety of traps for us. The most impressive one of memory was the giant "tiger trap". As the name insinuates the trap was originally used to catch the now elussive and endangered Vietnamese jungle tiger. When it came time to think of innovative ways to capture or kill the Americans and South Vietnamese, the Viet Cong found that the "tiger traps" worked quite effectively in incapacitating paratroopers who jumped down out of their helicopters from about two meters in the air. Their distance from the ground made the crude camouflage undetectable. The "tiger traps" consist of a swiftly swinging door that opens into a pit of sharpened bamboo spears about one meter in length. As we meandered through the jungle and encountered more grim traps and eerie mannequins the rain continued its onslought.
On our way to the tunnel opening we passed by another entrance, an unenlarged original tunnel entry-way, though not off limits to visitors due to its size is virtually inaccessible. The tourist friendly tunnel has been enlarged to twice the size of the original to allow a "more comfortable experience". Maybe its my American breeding or my fondness for...everything on the menu at Gom, (the restaurant that has catered to our every meal for the last four days), but if that was twice the size of the original than I think that four or five times the size would have been more appropriate. By the time we got to the mouth of the 100 meter tunnel that has countless tourists wriggling through its bowels everyday I was thoroughly and completely soaked through. There wasn't a dry spot anywhere on my clothing and I was, at the time standing in water up to my ankles. Already I could smell the stale dampness wafting from the tunnel and I knew this wasn't going to be all that fun. I lowered myself into the "entrance", basically a hole in the ground and found myself emersed in the kind of thick darkness that can only be found in places you feel like you shouldn't be. The ceiling was low. We had to move a long in a half squatted bent over position. After about ten steps I could already feel the akwardness of my movements in my burning hamstrings. My shoulders brushed the walls cold moist walls on both sides and every now and then I had to stop and crouch further down to give my legs a rest. The tunnels were lit electrically only every ten meters or so, a luxury I doubt was afforded to the tunnels inhabitants some thirty-five years ago. The smell was really pretty offenssive. It smelled like a combination of my grandpa's basement and a watered down version of what I imagine fear and death smelling like, perhaps topped off with a little bit of Ray's onerous foot odor. The tunnel dipped down deeper at a couple of points where we found ourselves scrambling through another hole into a seemingly smaller compartment. At one point Ray stopped suddenly asking "what's that?" and before I had a chance to throw up from nervousness or see what he was talking about he said "oh nevermind, it's just a frog, watch out for that frog." About halfway along the 100 meter distance the tunnel got really tight. The half-squat duck walk that we had been doing most of the way was no longer going to cut it. Here, we had to literally get down onto our hands and knees and with a littly shimmying of the shoulders, squeeze through at an angle.
Finally, I sensed an incline in the darkness and saw a brightness appear ahead, indicating our ascent back out into the open. After climbing out of the dankness of the tunnel I gratefully stepped out into the fall of rain in the hopes that it would clean the smell and the grit and the groseness of the tunnel off of my skin and clothes and out of my hair.
All in all the tunnels and Cu Chi as a whole were not a very enjoyable experience and it wasn't just because of the rain. I'm sure that the rain is something that everyone was forced to contend with during the war and it could have only been a minor upset in light of the horrible fighting, destruction and loss of life that took place there and in other parts of the country. It was a sobering and rather miserable experience to say the least.

The Beauty of Vietnam...

Is Found in Her Natural Parks


In an attempt to avoid the feeling of being funnelled into the highly touristic and pre-determined cities on the route of the open tour bus that transports the majority of Vietnam's tourists between the Northern city of Hanoi and the Southern city of Ho Chi Minh, we have tried to blaze our own trail. Although we aren't really blazing a trail, seeing as we're getting everywhere by the guidance of the Lonely Planet Vietnam book, we do seem to have the benefit of a very loose itinerary that has allowed us to go further and see more than the average backpacker I've encountered along the way.
On the first leg of our journey, rather than take the lengthy bus ride from Hanoi to Hue, we opted instead to stop in Ninh Binh. Although it rained the majority of the time we were there it proved to be our first glimpse into the true beauty of Vietnam. Cuc Phuong National Park was about an hour long motorbike ride from our hotel in Ninh Binh. We originally planned on overnighting in the parkbut thought it might be more miserable than fun with the dreary weather. The scenic ride into the center of the park was a tasty appetizer for the feast that was to come. We ended up following the trail for a 17 kilometer trek into the jungle with a 1000 year old tree being the halfway point. It was just drizzling a bit as we set out on the trek but the palm canopy above us provided a suitable shelter.
I tried desperately to tap into Jane Goodall's knowledge of primates as I searched in vain for the elussive and endangered Vietnamese gibbon and langur. Despite the absence of any seriously cool wildlife, I did see some pretty remarkable things. What with all of the rain there were a couple of crabs that seem to have lost their way. I wasn't aware that there was such a thing as a jungle crab but they were aplenty and surprising to see. In addition I did see the furry butt of some animal as it jumped from a tree but I was unable to properly classify the species. There was also an abundance of extremely beautiful butterflies of substantial size flitting around for the first half of the day.
The park ended up being so beautiful and expansive and untouched that I was thrilled that we stopped in Ninh Binh. Having seen the beauty of one national park we decided to try our luck with another one further south.
We were having lunch at a travel shop in Hue and aimlessly flipping through a book describing various tour options. We saw that the shop offered a trip to Bac Ma National Park, about an hour and a half outside of Hue. The tour didn't seem too expensive and I thought that it would be fun given my fond impressions of Cuc Phuong. The following day we boarded two guided motorbikes and drove to Bac Ma. The tour ended up being a total scam job because the fee we paid the travel shop was solely for the guided motorbikes. It didn't pay entrance to the park nor did it pay for the expensive yet mandatory taxi ride to the summit. With such a bad taste in our mouths about the whole affair it seemed as though the whole day was doomed.
This, thankfully was not the case at all. After bargaining with the taxi driver we got a pretty fair deal on the ride to the highest station. From there we had to trek a number of kilometers to the summit where we enjoyed absolutely breathtaking views of the valley and the towns below. It felt as though we were the only people on the entire mountain, which after the hustle and bustle of Hanoi and Hue was pretty welcome.
Within the grounds of Bac Ma National Park are a number of waterfalls to which we made our way next. The first was a series of five waterfalls called Five Lakes Falls for the pools of water that collected beneath each fall. The beauty of this series of falls was in the surroundings. To have such crystal clear water move so quickly and violently through such a tranquil and lush landscape was such an odd juxtoposition that would only be acceptable in nature.
The book said that the water coming from these falls was some of the coldest in the country and that no living thing inhabited it except for a recently discovered species of frog. Despite this we were eager to strip down to our swimming suits and test it out ourselves. Afterall we had been hiking all day and had worked up a pretty decent sweat. Nothing could have prepared me for the shock to my system as I took the plunge and stepped off of a rock into the deepest part of the pool. The coldness wrenched the breath right from my body and I clambered up the mossy rocks in less time than it took me to take that overzealous step in the first place. Needless to say we didn't do much swimming. We just snapped a couple of pictures and took turns daring each other to stand under the icy waterfall as it pounded down on our heads.
Afterwards we took off in the direction of the Rhododendron Falls. With our map in hand we made our way along the trail. The walk wasn't too strenuous but it was no walk in the park either and by the time we got to the top of the falls we were pretty sweaty. Notice however that I said the top of the falls. The trail leads everyone to the very beginning of the waterfall, where the river rushes over a series of rocks and then disappears over the edge. There is a stairway to the left that leads only the most insanely in shape or the simply the most insane to the bottom of the waterfall. I certainly don't fall into the first category but either way we walked down the stairs, all 680 of them. The decent wasn't too terrible but already you could tell this was something you weren't going to want to do in reverse. By about the halfway point my knees were already feeling how uncomfortable unevenly spaced stairs are to walk down. By the time we got to the bottom we were sweaty and short of breath. We had plenty of time so we took a bunch of good pictures and tried to work up the courage to start our way back up.
On the ascent we stopped after one hundred steps. Both of us were clinging to the railing and sucking down every atom of air we could. The steps are so tall and akwardly spaced that it makes it more difficult than just the sheer numbers alone. We divided the rest of the stairs into one hundred step increments and started on our way. Every time we got to about 85 it became seemingly impossible that we could climb another stair and by then our arms had to do most of the work.
I was sore for the next week but I don't regret even one of the 680 steps to the bottom and back up again because the sight looking up at that enormously long waterfall is not one I will soon forget.
Vietnam has quite a number of national parks all down its length and I fully intend to stop at as many as we can along the way.

True Stories in Short

While walking back from a water puppets show in Hanoi, Ray got blindsided by a soccer ball in the stomach. The whopping kick came from a little girl about 7 years old and I saw the whole thing happen before it actually did. I watched as she and a friend passed the ball back and forth. I saw her jump forward and rear her right foot backwards and connect her toe with the side of the ball just so. My eyes widened as I saw the ball lift off the ground and come hurtling towards us with great speed. I heard the smacking sound as the ball made contact with Ray's stomach. I nearly collapsed with laughter and couldn't even pretend to hold it in.

On our first day in Ninh Binh we decided to rent motorbikes. It was raining pretty heavily but thought we would make for Cuc Phuong National Park anyway. The plan was to head for the park, stopping to see a floating village and the ancient capital of Hoa Lu on the way and then spending the night at a guesthouse in the park. For the trifling sum of $5 per day we decided to splurge and each get our own motorbike. I, having never actually driven a motorbike, felt confident that my years of experience driving a standard transmission car would prove useful in learning this new skill. Armed with a raincoat, an ill-fitting helmet, and my overnight bag, I boarded the beast ready for an adventure on the open road. The man started it up for me and showed me where the gas was. I turned back on the handle and away I went. The only problem was that I was not told that when I wanted to stop I not only had to pull on the hand break, but I had to let up on the gas. Needless to say I did not perform this task correctly and I found myself careening toward a pedestrian. I lost my balance, and my bravado, and both me and the bike tipped towards the road. I suffered a couple of pretty impressive war wounds and ended up bleeding all over the sheets that night. We didn't make it to Cuc Phuong that day.

You know the scene in Jumanji where they roll the dice while playing the game and they end up in the middle of a monsoon? Yesterday, we did finally make it to Cuc Phuong National Park. It was still raining a little bit but not enough to deter us like it did the day previous. We got to the park, visited the Endangered Primate Rescue Center, took a beautiful scenic drive into the center of the park, had lunch and then started our trek. The trek was an 8 km hike through the jungle on a trail of moderate difficulty. It was sprinkling enough to warrant our raincoats but not enough to detract from the majesty fo our surroundings. The trek took us to a 1000 year old tree in the heart of the forest and then back around to the central starting point. Just about the time that we made it to the tree, which was about halfway, the skies opened up and started dumping obscene amounts of water on us. At that point raincoats weren't even the issue. There was so much rain that the trail turned into a veritable raging river and the concern was no longer about staying dry but keeping from getting swept away entirely. Unfortunately the rain caused most of the animals to go into hiding so all we saw was a lizard, some gigantic butterflies, the tail end of something furry that moved too quickly to identify, and some jungle crabs. Despite it all, the landscape and scenery were absolutely breathtaking and the day as a whole was my favorite so far.

Within the bounds of the national park are a number of caves. One that was on our way to the 1000 year old tree was the Palace Cave. About 45 minutes into the trek we came upon the cave and walked into its cool mouth, thankful for the chance to get in from the rain. Because it seemed that most of the park was devoid of any visitors but us, we decided that it would be fine to hang up our wet coats and packs on some rocks before proceeding onwards. The travel book suggested that a flashlight was necessary for viewing the inside of this cave indicating it was rather deep and well...cavernous. We started into the cave thinking little of it. Afterall this was probably the third or fourth cave we had ventured into so far, what could be the big deal? As far as caves go this was a pretty nice one. The ground was relatively even and the ceiling was high so walking wasn't that difficult. The flashlight we had only illuminated an area about ten feet in front of us due to its small size and the steaminess of the cave. The further we traipsed into the caves belly the quieter the sounds of the ouside got and the more distinct the sounds of the inside became. The sounds on the inside of the cave were mostly that of dripping water, crunching gravel and squeaking bats. Being the avid spelunkers that we have become over the last couple of days, we were in no way deterred by the bats. Afterall, I attempted to nurse one back to health and keep one as a pet when I was little. Every now and then Ray would shoot the flashlight up to the ceiling to see if we could see where the bats were sleeping. Up ahead of us we saw a massive crevace in the ground right before the cave started to turn right and shrink in size. It was right at this juncture that the squeaking became the loudest. Knowing that the bats were probably disturbed by our presence we stopped and remained absolutely quiet as we shone the light around us. Nope no bats there, none there either, I wonder where they are hiding? Then, as our eyes followed the flashlight up the side of the crevace, up the far wall, and onto the highest point of the ceiling, there we saw them. The ceiling was no longer made of limestone but of crawling, writhing, hairy little bodies. The sea of slumbering bats spanned an area about 20-25 feet in diameter and just as our flashlight landed on them one or two swooped down to avoid the light. At this we turned on our heels and booked it out of the cave faster than you can say "Happy Halloween!"

My Observations Thus Far...

-Most Vietnamese women have extremely long hair.
-Most Vietnamese men have extremely long fingernails.
-Vietnamese cuisine is not too dissimilar to American-Chinese fastfood.
-The tourist attractions, though fascinating and beautiful, are not easily accessible or fully understood without the help of a Vietnamese speaking guide.
-Many Vietnamese still speak French, a useful discovery.
-The dogs here are much cuter than those of the other Asian countries I have visited.
-When it rains it pours
-The driving is hair raising
-The daily costume of rural female worker looks like pyjamas
-The beaches are beautiful and the water is nice but sometimes there are lots of scary looking floating bags
-The Vietnamese will try to sell you anything

To Be Continued...

To the Bleeding Hearts of the World...

Vietnam may not be for you.

While travelling by motorbike to Tam Coc, a town surrounded by time sculpted limestone, we found ourselves behind a most pitiful sight. A man was zipping along the highway with not one but two whole pig carcasses strapped to the back of his motorbike. I was at first only mildly shocked at seeing two full grown pigs with all limbs and accessories attached pass by me. I'm sure that the man was taking them to market to sell. I'm equally sure that the sacrifice of two of his prize pigs was something that deeply troubled him because I'm sure that the pigs had become like part of the family. Surely such a sacrifice would only be made if it were deemed absolutely necessary. I'd be willing to bet that the money gained from the sale of the pigs was to be used for a life saving surgery for his youngest of five children. I'm also relatively confident that the pigs were sacrificed in the most humane manner possible while still preserving the meat.

Well, before my happy thoughts of the man and the life of the pigs could come to an end the pig stacked on top started to move. Not only did it start to move but it started to squeal and kick and thrash. All of this movement disturbed the slumbering pig on the bottom and he too began to display his displeasure with being stacked upon and lashed to the back of a motorbike. With both pigs attempting to throw their considerable weights around in order to free themselves of this hell, the bike started to swivel and very nearly went over. The whole episode was over fairly quickly, but not before my brain had the chance to remember the details in order to replay them in tonight's nightmare.

Before they settled down comfortable on top of one another, the pigs did manage to deal the man a pretty hefty blow in the kidneys.

The score:
Pigs-1
Man- 2 million dong (about $130) richer

Gooood Morning Vietnam!

"It's hot, damn hot! So hot my plants are on fire...about to do some crotch pot cookin'" Never before have those words rung so true. It's about 10:30 in the morning and as I sit at this computer in the lobby of my hotel I can feel the sweat trickling down the backs of my legs and my chest. Mmmm delicous!

Besides being hot it has also been very exciting and wild. After Ray picked me up from the aiport yesterday we just sort of wandered around the city trying to avoid a misfortunate accident with a moped. We walked around a lake in the Old City and tried to soak up what little breeze there was. Afraid to be too overwhelmed with the newness of everything we opted to save all touristy outings and real exploration for today.

Today is strange fruit testing day. There are women everywhere who sell some of the weirdest fruit I've ever seen out of a baskets that swing from their shoulders. Of particular interest are the giant leechee fruit looking things. They have a spiny pinkish brown outer shell and they are quite literally the size of basketballs. Something else to try are the green things that at first glance look like avocados but on the inside are clearly some kind of citrus fruit. The other one that I'm dying to try is the thing tat looks like huge pink cactus flower. Ray tells me it's called a dragon fruit, but he can't always be trusted. In addition to the weird looking stuff there is also a plethora of bananas and succulent looking mini-pineapples that are cruisin' for a bruisin'.

Throughout strange fruit testing day we will be visiting some of Hanoi's more political and cultural areas. The Ho Chi Minh museum and perhaps the mausoleum are on the list of to do's, but realistically, once you've seen on embalmed communist dictator's body you've seen them all, thanks Mao. Later tonight we have tickets to go see a performance of Hanoi's famous water puppets and I've been told that if I want to go to the women's museum that I will most likely be going solo. Apparently a museum partially dedicated to the women's costumes through the ages of Vietnamese history isn't a bi-gendered interest.

Anyway I had better sign off because the puddle of sweat that has accumulated under my feet and chair is slowly inching its way towards the power chords and it would be a real tragedy to get electricuted and be forced to miss out on strange fruit testing day.

Fare thee well...

On the morning of my last day in Korea I find myself....hungover. It's a misty, hazy morning in Hwajeong and as I make the final preparations for my departure I am elated but am unable to show it thanks to the headache.

Despite all of that though I am ready. I have been ready for quite some time now and have no regrets about leaving, if even a shade earlier than I was originally supposed to. I have done this country right for the time that I have been here but it is most definitely time to move on. I am saddened by the fact that I will not be going home to see my family right away but excited about the adventure that tomorrow and the many hot and rainy days to follow, will bring. Today I will fly into Hanoi to begin the first leg of my four country tour through Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand.

I will continue to update as often as possible to keep everyone awares of my current location and continued survival. This is Megan, signing off. Thanks for stopping by.

"Everyone Smiles in Wonderland"

Feeling slightly guilty about having sent my entire family a fake email about me eloping to Taiwan with a 35 year old divorced Korean man, I feel compelled to give a real update as to the drama that has ensued since my last entry. Although it may seem unlikely that any more drama could have developed after having my house broken into, I invite you to read on and take a big whiff of the shit that has relentlessly rained down on me these last few weeks.

According to the last update my apartment was broken into while my visiting college roommate and I slumbered peacefully on the floor. That incident happened on Monday morning. The rest of the week I spent most of my out of class time fighting with my employers to put bars on my windows. Insisting that they were having trouble finding a company willing to secure such large windows, I find myself nearing the end of the week with zero progress having been made. Because my apartment has no airconditioning it is beyond the bounds of reality to expect us to survive a night with all of the windows closed. Because of this we opted to keep the window of prior entry closed and locked but kept the large sliding window in the laundry room open for absolute necessary ventilation. Having inspected the piping on that side of the building and feeling reassured by my supervisor's insistance that the perpetrator would not come back, we felt rather comfortable.

On Friday morning I once again found myself inexplicably awakened. I rolled over on my bed to notice the legs of a figure standing not two feet away from my head in my laundry room. Again I found myself uncertain as to whether or not it was Lauren sleep walking. This time however I was a little less pleasant with my query when I said "what the fuck..." The real Lauren, hearing this shop bolt upright in her bed nest to me. Instantly realizing that the nearby legs did not in fact belong to her I leapt into action. I rushed at the figure with no other weapon than my fits and started pummeling on his back and neck. Lauren, barely being awake before all of this took place, was under the impression that the figure was attacking me and immediately sprung for the lights and any pan-like device with a hard bottom and a handle. By the time she had the lights on the man was scurrying down the pipe from whence he came and both of us were screaming bloody murder at the top of our lungs.

Admittedly my Korean is bad. I know a few words and key phrases at the most, certainly not enough to be able to communicate with the police over the phone where the help of hand gestures are out of the question. Like last time I called my supervisor who did no more than murmur in her sleepy broken English, "oh shit". The next day Lauren and I met with tow policemen at school. The meeting was totally useless seeing as it consisted of about 10 to 15 minutes of Korean back and forth with no more than five questions being translated and directed towards us. The questions were all useless seeing as they all had to do with the description of the person. All I saw was that he was suffering from male pattern baldness and a serious case of footprint minisculus. The meeting ended without any hope of resolution. I had a number of meetings that day with my supervisor and the owner of my school. Basically the meetings involved me saying that I wanted to get the hell out of here and them saying no. My contract is due to end at the end of the month anyway but they told me that if I tried to leave any sooner that it would be a breach of the contract and I would be forfeiting my rights to receive my severence pay as well as the finder's fee for the new teacher. Unwilling to accept this after a year of slaving away on their behalf I insisted this was unacceptable and due to these exceptional circumstances some allowances needed to be made. After some more meetings, some strong words, some tears and some slammed doors they are allowing me to leave on the 22nd of July, as opposed to the 28th, and I will be getting my full severence. I'll let you know how that all pans out in a couple of weeks.

Lauren and I have been staying in a seedy love motel since Friday a week ago. Lauren, having had her fill of fun in Korea decided to go home. She sensed a bad feeling for our travels to come and lost much of her travel confidence due to her experiences here. Yesterday, I made my final move out of the hotel and my old apartment and into my new apartment located in the same building as the school. I have less than two weeks left but I am happy to spend them away from the animalesque sounds of the love motel and the creepy towns folk of Haengsin-dong, the location of my first apartment. This apartment is nice complete with two refrigerators, an 8th floor view, airconditioning and a blue and white polka dotted toilet seat.

I am mentally checked out of this job and this place. I can't wait to start my travels in Southeast Asia in 12 days. I'm sad that Lauren won't be with me but she has tentative plans to meet us in Ho Chi Minh city in Vietnam. I will be meeting Ray in Hanoi on the 22nd and we'll take it from there. I already have my backpack and my malaria pills so I'm pretty much ready to go.

This weekend the girls and I are going to the mud festival. Stay tuned for updates and pictures from that.