Happy New Year!

At work rebelling against all the work I have to do. Screwit. Instead I'm going to destress by watching you-tube and blogging. And the *&^(@ powers-that-be who control internet access here banned facebook, game sites, and peer-to-peer sites. So theoretically, all I can do to de-stress is youtube and blog. I am so resentful and stressed-out it is ridiculous.

My new year's resolution is to try not to lose my mind. Sometimes, it goes away for holiday and can't be found. Especially right now, I think my mind is off skiing at Kirkwood. It's definitely not here in Biopolis.

BBBBBAH. signal to go home, and try again tomorrow. =(.

Stairway to heaven

Some of my loyal readers might be despairing over the dearth of updated blog posts on this website. -sighz-

Sadly, work has come between me and my mission in life: slacking.

Following my not-so-triumphant return to Singapore, I am now safely ensconced in the bosom of A-star, and er.. serving my country. I do this by

1) supporting small business (eating at the food court)

2) buying local brands (eh.. maggi mee?)

3) helping churn the great a-star research machine. one DNA gel at a time.

The new condo is very nice, but very hard to find. The road it's on doesn't exist on google maps yet, and guests arrive angry and frustrated. I should hire the Little Caesar's guy that waves the giant placard at San Antonio, to stand at a strategic corner and point the way.

I also have a new keyboard! I am very pleased with the instrument, but not so pleased with the way my piano playing and sight reading skills have regressed. Please send me sheet music for christmas!! It is my new self-improvement project. My other self improvement project is to do more sports. This involves complex multi-party negotiations with myself, and is currently in the planning stages.

Luz has invited jomo and myself to give a joint speech at her wedding. I think I should start to charge for speaking engagements... a free dinner is not too much to ask, right?

Went to Hanoi in Sept with Jomo. It was interesting, Halong Bay was fantastic, Perfume pagoda was ok, and of course I got to hang out with Jomo (highlight of the trip), and read Battle Royale (incredibly violent and bloodthirsty yet strangely absorbing). The traffic is absolutely crazy, I was very happy because the chaos reminded me of S.America. But something was 'off' about Hanoi. I dunno. People seemed too absorbed with earning money. I got a China vibe. You can feel it when they refuse to bargain, and when you're in the midst of impatient motorists.

Now I want to go to Laos.

Bolivia 8: We become true Bolivianos

I had planned for 3 full days in Santa Cruz. Unfortunately, it didn't take us long to realize that there was absolutely nothing to do there. Also, it was the Christmas period so we didn't want to risk taking a bus to the Jesuit Missions, then not having any transport back.

Instead, our time in Santa Cruz was spent slowly morphing into Bolivianos at the Central Plaza. And shopping for chocolate bon bons at the market. And eating a never-ending Christmas fruitcake. I was reading Charmaine's book ('Eat, Pray, Love')-- about one woman's quest for life, spirituality and balance. In the end, she achieves everything (including money because the book was selling quite well). I was half-expecting a how-to manual, hoping that I too would magically achieve life, spirituality and balance, but it was simply an entertaining read. It became less entertaining in the end because she started whining and pontificating, but the first 70-80 parts (it had 108) was very good. My take-home message from the book is: go to Naples to eat pizza. Her description of the pizza in Naples is so mouth-watering that if I wasn't in the middle of a Bolivian plaza becoming ONE with the park bench, I would have been on kayak.com checking air ticket prices.

It's quite interesting what can happen to 2 Chinese girls who spend many hours in Bolivian plazas. A middle-aged man sat on our bench and started telling us how much he distrusted Obama because he is black. Apparently, this guy is Mormon, and dislikes Islam.... It was a weird experience. We also had a TV camera thrust in our faces, complete with lady reporter asking us where we came from and how we celebrate the New Year. We stammered something about parties and families, and in the end wished Bolivia 新年快乐!

After that we totally regretted our lackluster interview. We should have made up some bizarre customs, like 'In Singapore, at the stroke of midnight, we light firecrackers and the king releases political prisoners'.... or something.

Brief notes on Santa Cruz:

1) It's in the lowland, surrounded by prime coca-growing plots. So it has a hot, dusty tropical feel, and it's full of drug money-- big SUVs, major American brands selling genuine merchandise etc. It's the only province of Bolivia that doesn't support President Evo Morales, who wants to empower the large indigenous population and nationalize the oil and gas industry. The city has a comfortable, rich feel. And the trendy magazines feature stories about partying in expensive clubs, and traveling in Europe. Very Very different vibe from the rest of Bolivia.

2) However, you know you're still in Bolivia because crossing the street is an Olympic sport, there are 6 lanes of cars but only 3 lanes of road markings, and the airport checkin counters only open 1.5hr before takeoff so that the queue is as horrendous and chaotic as possible.

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Conclusions on Bolivia:

It was every bit as weird and wonderful as Eujin promised. And deliriously chaotic, more than Peru and Guatemala combined. The people are super friendly, and the sights are incredible. My one regret is spending too much time in Santa Cruz. We should have gone to the Potosi mines, and Sucre, then to SC, or skip that altogether and just go back to La Paz.

I highly recommend Bolivia to open-minded, adventurous backpackers looking for a totally different experience.

Huge thanks to Charmaine, who was brave enough to take yet another S.American trip with me. Xiao mei, you're the best.

Bolivia 7: RUN Pearline, RUN

Cochabamba! Bustling market town in a fertile valley, midway between the Andes to the West, and the lowland jungles/pampas in the East. We were there because I found a website that said that Cochabamba was the paragliding capital of Bolivia. $30 USD/jump. I couldn't resist.

But first-- a stop at the tourist information office. Somehow, I managed to lose my wallet (this is becoming a terrible tradition), and I was looking for a phone that would call the US, to cancel my credit cards. However, the tourist office was temporarily closed because there was a Christmas Event happening. At first we didn't know what was going on, but the massive numbers of children, the christmas tree, and all those women dressed as elves, gave the game away. The people we asked said it was not possible to answer my questions right now, but would we like some free coffee and deep-fried dough?

Anyways, they couldn't help and in the end I used my hp to call America, but the coffee and fried dough was really quite tasty. And we got to watch children receive presents from Santa.

Next day: Paragliding! We arrive early at the offices of Andes Xtremo, and were ferried to the cliffs 15mins away by our instructor Andres, and his assistant. We stop at the landing site, and Andres says that we will take turns jumping: one of us stay there, while the other will be driven to the top to jump, then we will switch.

"Who will go first?"

uneasy looks pass between Char n I. Char looks a lot more uneasy than I feel.

"Ok, I go first", I say.

I get into the car, leaving Char with a book and the camera. I feel pretty excited as we set off-- finally! paragliding! It sounds awesome!! I become less and less excited, the further up we drive. I make the mistake of looking down the edge... It's a hella loong way down. My heart immediately sinks to my stomach, and they both do a little quivering dance.

We get to the launch site, Andres and friend start rolling out the chute. I try not to think about it. Finally, they are ready. Andres ties into the parachute gig, and I'm tied in, in front of him.

"OKAY PEARLINE THIS IS HOW WE DO IT. WHEN I SAY RUN, WE RUN. DO NOT STOP RUNNING UNTIL I SAY STOP."

"Okay."

"OK now, RUN!!!!"

My legs started moving like my life dpded on it, but we didn't move! The parachute is HEAVY. I felt like a little hamster on the wheel.

"RUN PEARLINE, RUN!!!"

"I'M TRYING!!!!"

We eventually start moving, and I was too distracted with the running to pee my pants. Before I knew it, we were airborne! It was so cool! It was exactly what you'd expect a falling via parachute to feel like-- suspended and free, yet supported by a giant blanket. There was a thermal in one spot, and Andres expertly maneuvered us to ride up the rising hot air. Now I know how eagles feel, soaring in the air. =).

After some more floating, Andres offered to do stunts. So we did some swinging from left to right, but most fun was the spiral descent, when we banked downwards and rightwards, and did this whirlwind thing rapidly towards the ground. TOTALLY AWESOME.

We landed nicely at the arranged spot, and it was Char's turn to go up. I told her that it was fun, she'll be fine, and to run when he says "RUN".

Char had her jump without mishaps, and we happily returned to cbba. For breakfast, we finally had a saltena, which the guidebook claims to be a CBBA specialty. (actually, they are found all over Bolivia, but are esp famous in cbba). Saltenas are savory meat baked in a thick pastry shell (think curry puff or mini calzone). We bite into ours and it is Incredible. Steaming hot chicken, swimming in juices, complemented nicely by the crunchy, slightly sweet pastry. Heaven must be full of saltenas.

Full of warm fuzzy feelings towards CBBA and indeed Life in general, we troop off to the bus station get tickets to our final Bolivian destination, Santa Cruz.

Bolivia 6: My heart goes Shalalalala

First stop in the early morning: the fumaroles (steam vents). Not much to say about them, because we were 1) super tired and 2) super cold.

Next, a dip in the hot spring before breakfast. It seemed like this item was on everyone's itinerary, because the little pool soon became filled with tourists. However, the overcrowding didn't mar the awesomeness of the hot water. Total bliss, made all the more so by the brisk morning air.

The rest of the morning was more pretty lake-pretty flamingoes. Lunch was at some random little village. We were hanging out, waiting for yet another flat tyre to be fixed, when I realized that atop a big rock around the corner, was half a propeller plane. Yes, half. The tail half, to be precise. Apparently it crashed about 50 yrs ago and no one bothered to take it down.

The morning was also made memorable by the music being played in our jeep. For the last 2 days, we had been playing music frm Char's ipod. but it was running outta juice, so that morning we turned it off. The driver then decided to play music from his mp3 player. Unfortunately, it had only two songs on it. Yes, TWO. The first one was an English version of a popular Chinese song (Wen bie), and the second one had a chorus that went 'And my heart goes Shalalalala, shalala in the mooorrnning... (etc)'. Those 2 songs were on repeat the whole morning. That's a lot of shalalalalas. No one else seemed to be in hair-tearing agony except for me and Charmaine... We tried our best to sleep, but that nefarious 'shalalalala' invaded my nightmares for days afterwards. I'm not sure if it would've been better in the second jeep. The Australian guys in that jeep openly admitted to being big fans of Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys, and were conducting free-for-all karaoke sessions in their vehicle.

=)

It was a pretty fun trip.

After lunch we had a 5hr drive back to Uyuni. We stopped briefly at San Cristobal, a (silver) mining town. We could hear festive music in the distance. Our cook pointed out the men sitting by the road drinking beer. She said that these were miners back from work. They get paid at the end of the day, then spend that $$ and the rest of the evening drinking. Apparently, they need to drink because mining is really hard work. We asked about the music, and she told us it was a mass wedding. The Christmas period is a popular time to get married, because most people are on holiday.

The rest of the day was uneventful. After getting back to Uyuni, we hopped a night bus to Oruro and onwards to Cochabamba. The bus to Oruro reminded me of the chicken buses in Guatemala. We had assigned seats, but there were amazing numbers of people standing and eventually sitting and sleeping in the aisles. They are not at all shy about sitting on your armrest, or invading your legroom. It was quite an experience.

I had a good time at the Salar! 3d 2n is a good length for this trip. The landscapes are amazing, the weather was good, and I saw loads of flamingoes (my favorite birds because they can stand on one leg), and wild vicuna and llama. The people on our tour were also really fun to hang out with. However after 3days the endless drives in the jeep became quite boring... plus the food wasn't that good. No regrets though. It's like a 3 day trip to Mars!!--- Totally radical, but you don't wanna live there. [note to self: Jason Mraz songs are a perfect soundtrack for a drive around Mars. The shalalalala song is not so good.]

Bolivia 5: Salt everywhere

This next leg of our trip was THE REASON for our epic journey to Bolivia. Apparently, HS was so impressed with the bizarre but breathtaking landscapes of the Salar de Uyuni that he strongly recommended Bolivia to Eujin. Eujin then became a firm convert and passed on this info to me.

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The bus ride from La Paz to Uyuni was awful. 7pm-6am, initially with flashing lights and loud music, followed by an earnest attempt to hit every pothole along the way. 1am: toilet stop at a restaurant with modern toilet bowls, but non-functional plumbing-- 'flushing' was accomplished by scooping water from a large tub outside, and pouring it into the bowl. I guess we were lucky to have toilets at all, but I remember being extremely upset at that time.

6am at Uyuni. Cold. The guidebook claimed that hordes of tour agents throng the bus terminal hawking their tours, but we saw only one man there. Also, there was no terminal, just a street junction. HRM. We walk to the town center, feeling slightly lost. Everything was still closed. Finally, we see 2 agencies near the train station that were open. We decide on a 3day-2night tour of the Salar de Uyuni with Lipez tours, then tottered to the cafe next door for food and rejuvenation.

Sometime after 10am, 2 land cruisers pulled up outside the office, and the tour operators (2 women) returned from their marketing with bags of groceries for our trip. We were a group of 11-- 4 (crazy) Australians, 1 Swiss, 2 Argentinians, 1 Dutch, 2 S'poreans.

First stop, the Train Cemetery. Trains used to run from Bolivia to Chile, and when no longer fit for service, were retired into this spot in the desert to rust gracefully. Now, they serve as an attraction for tourists, and Uyuni youths with too much time and spray paint.

Next was the obligatory tourist souvenir stop, full of unenticing ashtrays and llama figurines carved from salt. The next souvenir stop was more interesting, because the entire hut, including furniture, was made from blocks of salt.

All this salt comes from the Uyuni salt flats-- once upon a time, this area was part of a massive inland lake. But the water has mostly dried up, leaving Uyuni with a bizarre landscape of endless salt. Water still lurks under the surface, and the Salar is dangerous during the rainy season. The endless white salt distorts depth perception, and we had fun taking cool 'optical illusion' pictures. Clear blue skies + sparkling white ground = pretty pictures.

Lunch was at the Isla de Pescado (Fish Island), so named because it's shaped like a fish. We hiked up to the summit of the little hill, enjoying the views of the landscape (dotted with little tourist-filled jeeps) and the cacti that grew on the island.

"Un momentito", one might ask. "Island? aren't you in a salt desert?"

Er. Yes. The salar is endless salt and wiry brush, punctuated with random rocky 'island' oases that harbor cacti, flowers and butterflies.
Another long jeep ride, before arriving at our abode for the night, a salt hotel. I ask the driver if he ever gets lost in this endless roadless signless desert. He says he uses the distant mountains as landmarks, but when it's cloudy during the rainy season, people have gotten lost and died in the desert. I give quick thanks to the cloudless skies.The salt hotel was really awesome. The walls and furniture are salt, and the supporting beams are dead cacti. Although it became really COLD at night, we were snugly insulated in our house of salt. After dinner, some kids from the village came in and started playing instruments, with the littlest ones singing and dancing. The little girls were SO CUTE. augmented by their out-of-tune singing and off-rhythm dancing. total tourist trap, but equipped with trusting big eyes and hesitant smiles.

After emptying our coin pouches, we braved the cold and went outside. If I were Van Gough I would have whipped out oils and canvas. However, that night we were content to simply stand and stare at the cosmos above.

The next day I wake up feeling pretty good-- it wasn't too cold at night, which is one of my very few minimum requirements for a hostel. It must have been the salt that was the insulator, because the generator shut off at 10pm.

The day was marked by multiple cycles of Jeep -> lagoon/rock formation -> Jeep. I was very excited to see many flamingoes at the lagoons. I read somewhere that they come here to breed. But superficial observation yielded only eating and flying and sleeping behavior.... *shrug* Maybe it was the wrong season. I took many flamingo pictures. But the coolest ones are those taken through Julia's binoculars. Charmaine will attest to how my pictorial record of the day can be summarized with just one representative 'Flamingoes in Lagoon' composition. The lagoons are also really interesting. Due to different mineral sediments and algae, they have different colors.

We also visited these awesome but random rock formations in the middle of the desert. I climbed a big rock with the Argentian guy, but it was v.v. windy up there, so we didn't linger.

Spent the night at random hostel near the Laguna Colorada, together with huge numbers of other tour groups. Another band of children came by to busk.

Side note: I was really quite proud of my photography skills from Uyuni. But today I found the National Geographic Antiplano feature by George Steinmetz, and realized that the landscape is so astounding any idiot with a point and shoot will go home satisfied. For truly brilliant compositions, check this out.

Bolivia 4: these Bolivianos are crazy...

Our last day on the pampas started slowly-- breakfast, then making alligator teeth necklaces with our guide. One of the Israeli guys declared the activity emasculating, but our guide said that in the jungle tribes, this activity was performed by the men. I guess it's a 'I killed this alligator and now I'm going to hang a dental specimen around my neck' thing. -shrug-

Next, we set off on the canoe, with a large piece of chicken skin, to look for Pedro. Pedro is an alligator that the guides seem to know and love. Apparently Pedro likes to lurk in a particular spot in the mangrove. Unfortunately, Pedro was either not at home, or not receiving visitors, because he didn't respond to our repeated ringing of his doorbell. (ie Calling his name loudly, banging the side of the boat, waving chicken skin in the air and water)

We returned to camp, slightly dejected. And oh what a wonderful surprise, there was a large alligator lurking near the camp! The guide demonstrated how to bait the gator by holding the chicken skin near its nostrils, then pulling away as it snapped forward. It was completely insane, and would have violated about three million safety laws in America. By some miracle, everyone who tried it survived without injuries. 

Nothing else that day came close to that level of excitement, not even the prospect of going back to town and doing laundry. 

I have mixed feelings about the pampas tour. It was incredible to be there, motoring down river: the banks teeming with interesting flora and fauna, random fish jumping into the boat, hearing the occasional PPFFTTT from a dolphin's blowhole. I was very excited to see the animals, but I'm pretty sure that the animals were not happy to see us. And I dunno whether our guide going to great lengths to get us closer to the animals is something all the jungle people do anyways, or if it's to cater to us tourists-- in hope of a bigger tip.

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The following morning, we flew back to La Paz. The flight was very smooth, and we were only delayed for 3 hours this time =). To combat the altitude, we were armed with a large bag of coca leaves. Chewing the leaves is a local remedy for the altitude. 

We had an afternoon to kill in La Paz before our 7pm bus to Uyuni, so we decided to walk to the famous Voodoo market, and central plaza. On the way to the market, the main street was lined with makeshift stalls (like the pasar malams in S'pore), selling a bewildering variety of sundry goods, as well as Christmas essentials (fruitcake, flashing lights, plastic Mary/Joseph/Jesus, plastic mangers and farm animals).

The Voodoo market is famous because you can buy tribal medicine, including dried llama foetuses (bury in front of your new home to ensure good luck). There are also many stalls selling the usual tourist souvenirs. 

Not much else to say about La Paz. The central plaza was a typical S.American Plaza: nice colonial buildings, fountain in the middle, many people and pigeons. La Paz traffic was pretty bad, and the streets are narrow and hilly. But it had a certain charm, a certain je ne sais quoi... maybe it's the road-crossing monitors dressed as zebras??

Bolivia 3: Great Snakes

We wake up at 7am the next day, and take a (cold) shower. After breakfast (many varieties of tasty fried dough), we slather on the mosquito repellent, put on rubber boots, and set off on a Great Snake Finding Expedition in the pampas (grasslands).

The pampas is huge. Large tracts of waist-high grass, punctuated by a few mudpools/lakes, and clumps of trees. In the middle of the rainy season, the entire area is flooded, and becomes one big lake. We see loads of crab shells, and holes occupied by little toads. We also see random birds (including 2 parakeets overhead), and capybara.

B4 we entered a clump of trees, the guide warns us to reapply repellent. Muchos mosquitoes. And it's true. Everyone soon attracted their own little swarm. Thank God for repellent. Our guide was looking out for snakes on the trees, and 5mins later started acting like a commando in the movies-- crouched low, eyes fixated on the tree branch, urgent hand signals for us to stay back and keep quiet... He gingerly approached the tree, then grabbed an anaconda off the tree branch and knocked it onto the ground! After a brief tussle with the snake (enthusiastically aided by the Israelis), he had the anaconda by its head and body. Thus began the slew of trophy picture taking. I am embarrassed to admit that I was a participant in this. The poor snake must have been scared outta its mind, because it started defecating like crazy. When it was my turn to hold the snake, I was surprised by its slight sliminess (prob cos of the poo), and its weight (quite heavy, although it was only ard 2m). I was very happy to pass him over to the next guy. Anacondas are safer on land than in water, where they can move extremely rapidly. Snakes over 5m long can kill a man by asphyxiation.

After everyone who wanted to got to hold the snake, our guide released it, then taught us to use random leaves to clean our hands. Snake-poo cologne is very out of fashion. 

We tramped around some more in the pampas, and visited a large lake (Lago Mina), which had many fish and alligators. We couldn't really see the alligators, but we knew they were there cos the fish were constantly jumping up from the water. The guys spotted a dead catfish that washed up on the shore, and the guide showed us an alligator bite-mark on its underbelly-- the likely cause of its death.

Walking back from the lake, our guide pointed out artifacts of interest-- molted cobra skin, a wasp nest, angsana fruit... Then, a whispered shout from one of the guys-- they had found a cobra under a tree! Our guide did his commando thing again, then lunged for the cobra's tail! He just missed, and the cobra slithered away at top speed. Undeterred, the guide dashed after the snake, and both did their best to beat the world record for the 100m sprint across rainforest undergrowth.

We also gave chase, and when we caught up to them, the guide had both hands on the cobra's tail, but the rest of the snake had burrowed under a large fallen log. The guide yelled frantically for one of the guys to poke the snake out from the other side of the log, but our groupmates were sadly lacking in snake-poking techniques. In the end, one of the guys took over tail-holding duty, while our guide demonstrated his impressive thrust, parry and counter thrust with a handy branch. The snake did a rapid about-turn, and after more tussling (including very impressive rearing of the cobra's hood), our guide emerged triumphant. 

Again, I felt really guilty. Here was a cobra, innocently going about its business, not at all deserving of these indignities. But um. now that we have it immobilized, surely I should take a trophy picture?

Holding the cobra was much more pleasant than holding the anaconda. It was smooth, not scaly like the Ancda, and also did not smell like poo. The guide said that once cobras are captured, they become limp and play dead, waiting for their chance to escape. 

The rest of the day was not as eventful. We returned from our hike feeling very VERY hot, sweaty, and grimy. The guys without repellent were in terrible shape. After lunch we went looking for dolphins, but only got close enough to hear and see jets of water from their blowholes. One of the guys had a desperate longing to swim with (and perhaps on) a dolphin, and promptly dived into the water whenever we saw them nearby. But no amount of agitation of the water surface (mimicking the sound of fish jumping), or plaintive calls of 'dolphin, dolphin..' could attract them. I saw an Amazon river dolphin at the aquarium in SF. They look like smaller, wrinkler versions of ocean dolphins. The amazon rivers used to run north to south, and the dolphins were from the pacific ocean. Then tectonic activity gave rise to the Andes mountains, reversing the direction of the rivers, and trapping the dolphins. Although why the dolphins didn't then swim north and escape into the Caribbean was a question not addressed in wikipedia... =X

We also tried to fish for pirahna, but were fairly unsuccessful. Our guide caught a few catfish, though. 

After sunset, we went looking for alligator eyes. With the light from a reasonably strong torch, alligator eyes glow red at night. They look scary and evil. Since the river bank harbored multiple pockets of lurking gators, motoring down the river at night is a scene I expect to see in a S.American horror movie in the near future. 

Our guide spotted a baby gator, motored into the marsh, and grabbed it. More trophy pictures. But it was very docile, and actually kinda cute. I dunno how our guide could tell the size of the gator just by seeing the evil red eyes. but i'm sure natural selection will only allow the smart guides to survive... This delightful specimen is about 2 yrs old. Mother gators stay with their brood for 1 year, after which the babies are left to fend for themselves.

Bolivia 2: Pampas tour, or close encounters with the buaya

The next morning we turn up dutifully at 8.30am at the tour agency, for our scheduled 9am departure. *sigh*... we would soon learn that in Bolivia, Time is a flexible and moving target. At about 9am, more people show up, including this guy on an ATV, who commences a loud and vociferous argument with the nice ladies who run the agency. We don't really know what went on, but some sort of agreement was made, and the israeli guys he brought along stayed while he left on his ATV.So. Our group consisted of Char and I, 3 constantly smoking israeli guys, and 1 israeli guy with his peruvian girlfriend. 

After an extremely bumpy and muddy 3hr jeep ride, including one memorable OH SHEEEET moment as the jeep lurched into a mudhole, we arrived at the Rio Yacuma. We piled happily into our motorized canoe, and set off, on our great Amazon adventure!

The river was awesome! It was fairly wide and muddy, and its banks housed a large amount of flora and fauna. The most common sights were: alligators and caymens (mostly small), capybara (largest rodent in the world), turtles (sunbathing on logs), herons, and this fat brown bird which our guide said was a bird of paradise. (Or he could have said 'bird parasite'... my spanish and his english both leave much to be desired)

There were 3 main types of fish in the river: pirahna, catfish and dogfish. The fish were constantly jumping out of the water, and sometimes into our canoe, triggering frantic attempts to throw them back into the water. The guide said that the fish weren't jumping around for fun nor fitness, but to avoid the murderous attempts of underwater alligators.

About the alligators: we saw mostly small ones, and the occasional huge one. When he saw an esp. big gator, the guide would motor our canoe right up to the monster. This caused extreme consternation to Char and I, and extreme excitement and joy to the very very insane Israeli guys. They all wanted to touch the gator and collect trophy photos and videos. This made the alligator very upset. Obviously un-interested in being a contestant in 'Israel's Most Macho Home Videos', it would trash violently in a desperate bid to escape into the river. Warning to all would-be intrepid bolivian travelers: If your tour grp consists of guys with Indiana-Jones complexes, go at your own risk.

We also saw the cutest little monkeys. A brief google for 'cute monkey amazon' revealed them to be squirrel monkeys. A whole troupe was at a low-hanging tree, and our guide immediately produced a bunch of bananas. The monkeys went um... nuts. Soon, we had the whole troupe's undivided attention. According to the guide, there are 3 main types of monkeys: squirrel monkeys (smallest), spider monkeys and howler monkeys. According to wikipedia, sq-monkeys have a brain:body mass of 1:17, the largest ratio for any primate. (humans have 1:35) When we ran out of bananas, the Israelis tried to tempt the monkeys with their cigarettes, but they wisely demurred (must be the immense brain: body ratio).

Char and I chatted with our guide. He has 8yrs of experience as a guide, and grew up in a small (jungle?) pueblo. He went to guide-school, but learnt everything as a kid by taking walks with his father. Charmaine expressed a desire to grow up in the jungle so that she too would learn stuff and become absolutely fearless around immensely large alligators. I'm not sure I share her desires. Sounds cool though.

After 2-3hr of canoeing, we arrive at the campsite/cabins, where we got settled into bunk beds in raised wooden cabins. Fairly nice campsite, equipped with mosquito netting, hammocks, toilets with plumbing, and more than a few toads.

The misadventures of Pearline's not-so-triumphant return to Singapore

I sit here in the Silver Kris lounge at the Hong Kong airport. Life is good.

But life was not good a mere 1hr 15mins ago. At that time, I was running through the airport to catch my flight. Just like in the movies. By my side was an attractive SQ rep in heels, also running and occasionally gasping into her walkie talkie. I took a mental moment to appreciate how much my life was resembling the movie 'Wanted', which I had just seen on the way from San Francisco.

Unfortunately I had no glamorous/dangerous reason for being late. I had just over-read my time at the bookstore [although the book was an absorbing treatise on Genghis Khan, and I couldn't put it down until the newly minted Mongolian nation had stormed their first fortress in Xi Xia].

Also unfortunately (at that time), they had closed the gate. Longingly, I caressed the airplane parked tantalizingly at the gate with my eyes. So near yet so far away. I am SUCH AN IDIOT.

I trudge back dejectedly to the airport transfer desk with my attractive SQ rep. The silence was broken periodically by racking coughs from my parched throat. The movies never show this part... People are supposed to catch their damn airplanes if they run furiously enough, and scatter enough luggage carts... 

Long story short, I get rescheduled on the next flight home, and the nice lady at the desk informs me that I actually have United Gold status, so please go to the business lounge and make sure I hear the announcement for boarding this time.

This lounge is SO COOL!! they have FREE ginseng soup, congee, and HAAGEN DAZS ice cream. Even though I feel a teensy bit out of place in my pajama pants and fleece in the midst of sharply dressed businessmen, I don't give a hoot. Clearly, I have arrived. Only 56mins left to enjoy this, so I'm not gonna waste my time blogging.

See you guys in Singapore!!!