The Summer of 2007

Buenos dias amigos, the time has come for me to wrap up my summer just before the academic year of 07/08 unfolds. Unlike most fruitless holidays, I thrived on my newfound enthusiasm and accordingly, this summer yielded immensely rewarding experiences and discoveries. I divided this study quarantined period between backpacking and interning, while lacing one too many nights with bottles of divine ferment. In short, these 2 activities, inter alia, provided me the fortuitous opportunities to encounter various personalities, taught me a thing or 2 about human dynamics and how to get your way around people. Most importantly, despite the frenetic life I led, I felt completely relaxed for most of the while, perhaps because I was constantly kept in good company. Yup. *Anyway amigos, I've already started to study and I will soon pen an entry on what it actually means and takes to put in effort haha. On a side note, I find this mission based academic year somewhat daunting because I'm gonna dedicate myself to my cause and get slapped by the inevitable truth of whether I measure up or not. Lets devote ourselves to excellence just because 'we owe it to ourselves' big time. Oh as always, I believe that everyone is already feeling quasi-festive, so hop on the bandwagon, 'accelerando natale' and enjoy 'the most wonderful time of the year' in advance. My Christmas playlist is already up and perpetually streaming! helll yeah!
-Kenneth Wong

*Entry continued in the wee hours of 16th October 2007

Music

Everywhere you go nowadays, about half the people you see are listening to music as they wander about. I think that ipods have seriously made, 'music lovers' out of everyone which is in itself a crime since music should be making music lovers. In a rush to emulate their peers and to eschew the unthinkable atrocity of not being part of the trend that ipods are, many people have bought ipods just for the sake of buying one and load music onto their devices as a mere afterthought. This crime is further compounded by the fact that these people who pose as music lovers are not even willing or bothered to make a small investment in a decent set of earphones to replace the piece of rubbish that comes free with their ipods. Here's to people who loved music before there were ipods, when portable cd players were still considered portable, when MD players were the next big thing and 128MB mp3 players were considered fantasy.. hahahaha... cya guys!

-Luke

The Long and Arduous Journey

How's it hanging amigos? If music were the fine wine of my soul, then emotion would be its steadfast and loyal companion: cheese. As complementing as wine and cheese are to one another, I often find myself fastidiously picking songs in order to elicit a desired emotion or accentuate an existing one by riding on a melody. For about an hour or so everyday, I would lie still on my bed and simply enwrap myself with tunes piped in from my extensive song list to procure an intoxication like no other. This is perhaps why a girl once said that I had surgically implanted earplugs which wires ran to my life support device- the ipod. Apart from getting satiated by the aural pleasures, getting plugged in somehow provided me with a more socially legit reason to isolate myself from the chatter and opinions of my fellow travelers and appreciate my surroundings in an unadulterated fashion, in the raw. But don't get me wrong, I also had my healthy measure of interaction and banter with those folks. Well, I must say that although my trip took off on an unpleasant note, it ended well enough so tune in and be enthralled!

With each passing moment that drew me closer to departure, the anticipation of this voyage faded and I was instead consumed with trepidation of solo traveling that attempted to derail me from this path and board the next flight home to Singapore. Putting up at the basement of a dodgy hostel in London for a night did my palpitating heart no favors because the strange personalities that resided in the room only heightened my fears that I would be mugged or physically attacked. Thus, I endured a harrowing 5 hour intermittent slumber. Upon arrival at Cancun, my journey culminated to an even sourer note as my backpack got routed to Miami and my guide didn't show up at the airport. All that indignation compounded with imaginations of foreshadowing doom (e.g. abducted on my taxi ride to the hotel) caused my heart to skip a beat on some occasions and on others it ended up stuck in my throat. My apprehensions were finally allayed upon arrival at my hotel and I knew that I had to separate my fears into rational and irrational ones for sanity to prevail, discarding the latter. On the flip-side, I was granted 50 pounds a day until my backpack arrived and for that reason, I bought myself a Brazil jersey that costs a dear 80 USD.

For the record and informative sake, I traveled to the Latin American countries of Mexico (Cancun & Playa Del Carmen), Belize (Caye Caulker & San Ignacio), Guatemala (Flores, Chichicastenango, Rio Dulce, Antigua Guatemala & Panajachel), Honduras (Utila Bay Islands, Comayagua & Copan), Nicaragua (Isla de Ometepe, Leon & Granada), Costa Rica (Monteverde, San Jose, Puerto Viejo, La Fortuna & Arenal) as well as Panama (El Valle, Boquete, Panama City & Bocas Del Toro). Beer is commonly drunk and the staple food is rice which is accompanied with beans, meat and plantains. As always and ever, nachos with guacamole dip ranks as one of my favourite food. Also, I commuted by chicken buses, taxis, boats and of course by foot.

Rumour has it that the gold haven of El Dorado is well hidden in the hinterlands of Latin America yet there is no veil that can conceal its gems of natural beauty. One who travels to this region will realize that even though most are empty in their pockets, there is a God or celestial being that constantly rewards them with million dollar sunsets, idyllic beaches and a legion of enamoring beauties that my photographs emphatically attest to. I usually have predispositions prior to arriving at each intended destination yet the actual tastes and sights unfailingly charm my senses. This is what traveling is all about: crossing the bridge that exists between the ideal and the exactness of reality. Yet, some bridges are longer and more treacherous than others, such as the daunting hike through the meandering Actun Tunichil Muknal just so that I can behold the magnifique view of cave formations sculpted by the deft hands of mother nature. I made a host of sacrifices in the form of putting up at a jungle lodge infested with a great deal of bugs, living in a wooden cabin with 2 jumbo spiders of which I both killed, sleeping in a beach shack which salt water ran through every tap/shower, sleeping on malodoured, unwashed linen as well as dealing with the searing equatorial heat without air-con. This taught me to live by the day and be content that I made it thus far. Latin America manifests an elegance that is ubiquitous, and not exclusive to just the rich but the adventurous who go out of their way to locate the perfect vantage point.

Photography by an ardent photo-taker, not a photographer. As most of my fellow journey-makers would know, this is a very significant aspect of my trip and many in fact have wondered what I would do with the countless pictures I took. I was obsessed with perfection; not a perfection of symmetry or one which conformed to the standards of others but a picture perfect to myself. I saw the world in angles, proportion, precision and color as though I constantly peered through a camera lens. In addition, I would go the distance to reach my desired vantage point and there was once I got chased by 3 huge black dogs while climbing to the crest of a hill just to get a shot of a delicate sunset. I also took risks such as carrying my camera while wading through the cave to capture the best images. Contrary to what some may believe, my indulgence in photo-taking does not make me any less appreciative of my surroundings but sharpens my eye for observance and detail. Apart from having an eye for the aesthetic, my role naturally demands I live in the moment and capture it successfully, such as the zenith of laughter or anger among people. This is what I mean by photography by feeling, seizing each ephemeral moment on film with an instinctive click before it extinguishes and gets relegated from priceless to worthless. Notwithstanding the exquisiteness of any brilliantly taken photograph, there is nothing that can substitute the purity of vision since film can never manifest the exactness of color as well as the panorama my eyes can perceive.

"Wow! I just realized I have done like so many things I've never done before in my life!" were the words exclaimed by a fellow journey-maker as she couldn't hide her amazement at the possibilities Latin America had to offer. How true that is and for a start I got a tan. Apart from chasing one too many ethereal sunsets, I have climbed up Cerro Negro Volcano for 3hours just to sled down in a minute, swam in the amiable company of sharks, manta rays, barracudas and moray eels at the barrier reef off Caye Caulker, hiked a cave, went white water rafting on class 4 rapids and saw lava spewing from Arenal Volcano, conversed with a rastafarian at Puerto Viejo, surfed, won a poker tournament at Utila Bay Islands, bird watched and saw a quetzal (endangered species) in the cloud forests of Monteverde as well as had myself hauled up by 7 ladies at the Baldi Hot Springs. Also, chilling out at Mondo Taitu Hostel, Bocas Del Toro bestowed me an unparalleled experience of being in a bar full, bar none may I add, of bedazzling and curvaceous hot babes that certainly have left a lasting impression on me. In the words of Jorge, Mondo Taitu was "like a bar in a Heineken advertisement." Finally, Jorge, Daniel, Rob and I decided to try one new thing as our Central American Odyssey came to a close at Panama City- we visited a strip club which indeed was an eye opener. For those appalled readers, grapple with reality as this is your world. It's always good to keep a broad mind and be an eye-witness of the world but not necessarily partake in it.

The people and culture. In my time in this region of the world, I have laid my eyes on dread-locked rastafarians, Guatemalan women clad in their distinct technicoloured fabric as well as Mexicans donning Sombreros with their strong accents to boot. These are but superficial aspects which roots stem deep into history yet even today the visages are maintained. Skeptical as you may say, the lucrativeness of tourism may indeed be one of the propellants for locals to promote a culture and sing to the tune of holiday makers, without realizing the erosion they're inflicting on their collective identity. An example would be thriving on the sale of fabric and items mass produced for tourists as well as 'cultural' or 'mediaeval' performances at theme parks. Cultures can be influenced and imported yet how can they be traded for money? My answer to that is that even though such veneers run deep into history, they are not always inextricably linked and in the tourism industry, the illusion of 'culture' is sold. Oh well like the survival nature Tupac Shakur articulated in his track 'Changes,' sometimes people just have to do what it takes as 'I (they've in this instance) gotta get paid.' Unfortunately right now, as countries in Latin America are especially impecunious, tourism is the chief sustenance of its inhabitants and hence it would be very difficult to thread a middle path between economic benefits and the preservation of cultural identities.

One of my favorite past-times is observing people and this trip has offered me innumerable opportunities of doing so. Apart from assessing their gestures, I have discerned some locals to conduct themselves with selflessness and more importantly, the genuinity of heart. Yet, there are also others whose courteousness and smiles are present in exchange for your dollar. Worse still, there are touts and money changers vying for every and any opportunity of cheating the dynamos of their economy: the tourists. However, among the atrocities I have identified, I detest begging by perfectly fit people the most because the act in itself implies worthlessness and extirpation of pride. Do contrast the scenarios I witnessed; the first at Chichicastenango where kids tugged my sleeve and pitifully asked for some papas fritas (french fries) with the second at the Guatemalan border where a boy approached me with a goat and asked if I wanted to buy some milk. The kids in both circumstances were needy and but at least the latter tried his best. Also, this question strikes me: if kids spend their entire childhood begging how can they ever grow and stand up like real men?

On the final day of my trip, I was slapped by a wave of nostalgia while gazing at the glittery skyline of Panama City as well as listening to 'Que Sera Sera' on repeat. My heart danced as the sun slipped below the horizon, playing back this 46 day journey from day 1, on repeat too. I pondered for a while and decided that I love traveling because I am hardcore, inquisitive and would do anything just to bridge the gap between my imagination and reality. Most importantly, I saw in greater measure the importance of being content. In retrospect, although I have gained this big time experience, there is something I have lost irretrievably: my 8 year old pair of Oakleys which got enveloped by the leviathan waves at Bocas Del Toro haha haha. Thus far, I hope you have managed to vicariously experience my odyssey and that this traveling spirit be contagious!

Even though the journey has come to an end, the adventures never shall

-Kenneth Wong

A term a day keeps ignorance away

	Blanket party
	A violent group attack on an unpopular GI. Usually done in the middle of the night, in a barracks situation, the victim’s head and body is covered with a blanket (preventing him/her from fighting back or identifying assaillants). Occassionally these attacks are used to bring a barracks bully into line but unfortunately hundreds of attacks per year are aimed at suspected faggots like Justin. This type of hazing is tolerated by noncommissioned officiers who see it as a means of "self policing" among privates and trainees. Smith over there has been a real fuck-up and kept us from getting a pass into town last night. Let's throw him a blanket party tonight.' This brief write up and definition was from: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=blanket+party Real life video coming soon... -The man with the masterplan