Destination Asia & South Pacific 2012

Destination: Asia and the South Pacific

CITY PROFILES:

Table of

How to Experience Adelaide Without Breaking the Bank

by Ashlin Murphy

Page 1

“Great Brown Cloud” Blankets Asia in Smog

by Larkin Holtzman

Page 2

Romance Gazes Through Starry Nights and Gleaming Lights

by Maddie Tufts

Page 3

Auckland Gets Extreme

Page 4

by Serguis Centanni Beware of Bangkok’s Dangers

by Jack Rowan

Page 6

Travel like a Queen in Queensland with the Family

by Claire LaGrone

Page 7

TRAVEL MEMOIRS: Family Comes First

by Jack Rowan

Page 9

A Fishy Race at the Lomban

by Serguis Centanni

Page 11

Meeting His Side of the Family

by Ashlin Murphy

Page 12

Fighting for Equality

Page 15

by Claire LaGrone Ringing in the New Year in a Peculiar Way

by Larking Holtzman

Page 17

Keep Calm and Holi On

Page 19

by Maddie Tufts

Contents

Maps of Asia and the South Pacific

Page 24

Graphs of Asia and the South Pacific

Page 25

Timeline of China’s History in the 20th Century

Page 27

Asian Souvenirs

Page 27

Six Recommended Destinations

Page 28

Six Recommended Activities

Page 29

VolunTOURism

Page 31

Mind Your Manners

Page 33

Must-See Movies

Page 33

BOOK REVIEWS: Sea Cucumber

by Larkin Holtzman

Page 35

Fried Eggs with Chopsticks

by Maddie Tufts

Page 36

Buddha’s Dinner

by Ashlin Murphy

Page 37

Sunburned Country

by Jack Rowan

Page 38

Smoking Mirror

Page 39

by Serguis Centanni Women of the Silk

by Claire LaGrone

Page 40

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by A. Murphy

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Travel Memoirs Family Comes First

By Jack Rowan Finally, I’m off that horrible plane, 14 hours of sheer hell. Not only was I crammed in the back row of the plane with two morbidly obese people on both sides, but we were also delayed two hours before taking off, due to some debris from a plane landing mishap. Luckily, everyone on that flight was alright. I had a direct flight from New York to Beijing, but for many others they would miss their next flight from Beijing to wherever they were going. This was not a good start to the trip. Let me fill you in, my name is Andre Ruckus, I am a 21 year old Junior at Columbia University, a group of friends and I had a assignment on the history of China and decided to take some time off and see the Chinese New Year for myself. After I finally arrived in Beijing, I collected my luggage and went strait to the hotel. I stayed at Swissotel Beijing, a beautiful, four-star hotel that is just in walking distance to the big celebration. I checked in, gave them my ID, then went straight up to my room on the top floor, threw off my cloths, and passed out in a deep sleep on my bed.

The next day, I woke up at four in the afternoon in an ice cube. I had fallen asleep so quickly I had forgot to sleep under my covers. I looked to the thermostat and it read 60 degrees, and I am not one of those people that prefer cold over hot.

My sinuses were very congested and my forehead felt hot; I did not care. I was all the way in China; I was not going to let being sick get in the

way of anything.

I had eight hours until the celebrations began at midnight. I decided I would spend them getting a feel of the city and visiting local shops. I first stopped at a small, good-looking restaurant. I got a bowl of Chinese noodles then carried on to the streets where a small carnival was going on in a large park. There was a talent show with performers who could perform talents that were greater than any American I had ever seen do. They were doing everything from magic to stand up comedy; gymnastics, singing, dancing, everything. Also, at the fair, there were booths for food, games, and televisions.

Anything I could imagine to be at a carnival was there.

I spent the rest of my day there until I returned to my hotel room to take a shower and relax until midnight to go to the celebration.

When I arrived at the parade it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There were fireworks going off left and right, bizarre costumes of dragons and lions, streets flooded with people, bamboo burning (an old tradition), all to chase off evil spirits. It was amazing. After about an hour

FAMILY, see pg. 10 [9]

His name is Bai Chang. He owns a KFC, a particularly successful business in downtown Beijing.

He loves his family more than himself. Overall, he is of partying, I pretty well off. needed to find a When we arrived in the countryside, it seemed bathroom. While like forever before we found a place for sale. There looking, I came was a 30-acre farm with a small house and a small across a mediumcornfield. It was perfect. Bai asked me how I felt. I aged man with told him it seemed great to me, but it was all his what looked like decision. It cost $200,000, and whether that was all of a newborn baby his savings or a small portion, it didn’t matter to him; crying on the side he bought it in a heartbeat. I didn’t know why he of the curb.

I wanted me there a still never have found out. I think approached the man and asked why he was crying. He he simply just wanted company or an opinion on what told me, surprisingly, in perfect English, trying to hold to buy. Either way, I’m happy I could help. back his tears, “My wife just gave birth to this In the carried back, Bai wouldn’t stop going on boy a week ago. I already have a son at and on about how happy he was and how home and I don’t want to give this one up Beijing, great the land was. An hour of this was because of the one child limit.” I was China definitely an ear full, but I couldn’t help shocked. I had no idea what to say, but I feeling great the whole time. knew I had to help this man.

I When we arrive in the city, at our first meeting remembered hearing once that if you lived in spot, he thanked me profusely and offered to take me more rural areas that you could be allowed two to dinner with his family later that night. A dinner with children, but I forgot why. Nonetheless, I told the man the Changs honestly didn’t appeal to me, but knowing this and he seemed pleased to hear it. He told me he my manners, I accepted, and we planned a steak would be willing to spend any amount of money to dinner that night at seven. Dinner that night was the keep this child, but he needed my help finding land to last time I ever hear from Bai, All I know is that he got buy. Being a Good Samaritan, I decided to help him to keep his second son, and judging by his personality, out and meet up with him at that spot the next day at he is living a happy life. That point in the trip was a eight in the morning. turning point. After that, my view on everything I had set the hotel alarm clock for six, and changed much more grateful, and I was happy. when it went off I had habitually hit snooze like I do Regardless of a delayed plane ride or getting sick on every morning for those four extra minutes of sleep. the first day, it was a great start to my trip.

Little did I know, according to these alarm clocks, the snooze means alarm is off until the next morning. I had slept until 7:45 a.m. While half asleep, I realized that I had to meet that man at eight. I threw on my clothes and rushed to that spot where I had meet him.

When I got there, I saw him sleeping, alone, in a car. I was expecting him to own a piece of dirt car, I found my self surprised when he had a 1995 BMW; not a particularly nice car, but for these people it was like a Ferrari. I woke him, asked him if he was alright, he replied with “yes, yes I’m fine, I slept here to make sure I would not miss you.” I could not help but feel guilty. The man told me we could use his car, and we got in and were on our way. While taking an hour long our ride to the countryside, I managed to learn a ton about this man.

By M.Tufts

FAMILY, from pg. 9

[10]

A Fishy Race at the Lomban

By Serguis Centanni My name is Tim Blackmon. I am 24 years old and I am from the United States of America. I recently went on a vacation to Bali, Indonesia with my girlfriend, Jessica. To get to Indonesia, it took Jessica and I ten flights in two days. We stayed at a beautiful resort and I could not have asked for a better time to go.

Here is my story.

english. I asked him “Which way is the baggage claim?”

“That way.” he answered. He pointed to the left of me.

“Thank you.” I said as I left. Jessica and I made our way to baggage claim, grabbed our bags, went through customs, and made our way to the bus pick up.

We arrived at the resort, and we checked in. We received our keys to our room, and made our way up to the room. The walk was uphill and very tiring, I was obviously out of shape. My room was very nice and I had a beautiful view of the island. About an hour later the resort people brought up our bags.

The next day, after breakfast, Jessica and I went down to the dive building, which was on the beach, and we signed up for a snorkeling trip, that was going to start in a few minutes.

The snorkeling trip was amazing, and we saw some really beautiful fish. There was about six other people on the trip. Between each stop, Jessica and I chatted with the boat captain in english. His name was Ridwan Jayadi. He was very nice and interesting.

The next day was January 25th. The start of the Lomban festival. All of the island came to the beach, everybody brought cows, chickens, and other animals, everything was given to the sea as an offering for successful fishing for the fishermen each year. After the offerings, the entire island made their way to a bunch of colorful and beautiful boats. I didn’t know exactly what was about to happen, but then a woman came over to me and introduced herself “Hello, my name is Verawati Jayadi.”

“Hi I am Tim Blackmon, and this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” I said. “You must be Ridwan Jayadi’s wife.” I said.

“Why yes, I am. My husband has told me a lot about you. He speaks very highly about you too.” she said.

“What is going on, and where is Ridwan?” I asked.

I had just arrived in Indonesia five minutes before and I had already encountered a problem; I could not find the baggage claim. All of the signs were in the languages Sundanese, Javanese, and Indonesian, all of which I do not know. Finally I found a man that spoke

LOMBAN, see pg. 12 [11]

in. Before Jessica woke up I left a present for her. She finally woke up and was very excited about her present.

We went to breakfast, and then found some shade She answered “Ridwan is right there, and underneath an umbrella on the beach. Later we just wait and see.” I looked over at the boats, went back to the room and finished which were more like canoes, and I saw Bali, packing. Then later at around six two men walking over to the boats.

Indonesia o’clock we prepared ourselves for One of the men was Ridwan, and the dinner. We went to dinner and I had a other was Suparman Lie (pronounced cake brought to the table for Jessica. The Lee). Ironically, Suparman Lie happens to be cake was beautiful and tasted amazing. After we the town fool. Then I saw several other men walk ate the cake, I pulled myself out of my chair, went over to the boats. Ridwan, Suparman Lie, and the other down on one knee, and asked Jessica a question. Let’s men all started to push the boats into the water. Each just say I will never be single for the rest of my life. We man then jumped into a boat and they started to race. I paid the bill, and went back to the room, and went to finally realized that it was a boat race. Each man was bed. The next morning we woke up early, and headed to about three fifths of the way through the race except for the airport. One day and ten flights later and we were Suparman Lie, but then Suparman Lie’s boat started back home in the USA. taking on water, everybody on shore gasped. Then all of a sudden Ridwan came from behind and pulled Suparman Lie out of his boat and the entire island cheered. Ridwan and Suparman finished the race before everybody else. When Ridwan and Suparman came to shore, a man named Budi Oesman, who happens to be the prince of the island, approached Ridwan and Suparman, and congratulated them on their win. Then Budi Oesman gave Ridwan 100 Indonesian Rupiah,

By Ashlin Murphy three chickens, one goat, and a sack of potatoes, for his heroics. The island police then went out to where Suparman Lie’s boat sank, and pulled the boat out from under the water and back to the shore. When everyone Throughout the seven years I’ve been saw the bottom of the boat, they gasped. The reason married to my husband, we’ve never taken one trip that Suparman’s boat sank was that a shark took a bite to his homeland of Loni, India. That’s why his auntie’s invitation to come visit for India’s out of the boat. The shark was most likely a bull shark Independence Day celebration shocked me as it did. or a tiger shark.

I mean, my parents have invited us to stay with them Later, after all the commotion settled down, the in the past, but they live in Vermont, not the Eastern pirates and the fishermen had a simulated boat fight, just Hemisphere. Regardless, I was intrigued. Ronnie like the reenactments of the Civil War. The fight, tells stories of his childhood in India, funny tales of Verawati Jayadi told Jessica and me, is a reenactment of him and his brothers dressing up in their sister’s when the pirates fought with the fishermen, and stole hijab, earning a good scolding from his father. everything that the fishermen had on their boats. The Ronnie moved to America at age twenty to study festival was exciting, all the activities were fun, the food ecology abroad. He stayed a year longer than he was great, and the boats were beautiful. That night intended and settled down in Chicago. After his Jessica and I went to dinner at the restaurant in the parents’ deaths, Ronnie lost touch with his family resort, and talked about everything that has happened living in India. Soon, there wasn’t much to discuss on since we arrived in Bali. I could smell the food that was the subject. being cooked all the way from my table, it smelled

We started packing. During those few days prior to our 17-­‐hour Klight, Ronnie paced our delicious. bedroom in circles, I prepared for the trip, and our The next day was our last day in Indonesia, it also happened to be Jessica’s birthday. Right when I INDIA, see pg. 13 woke up I started packing my bag while Jessica slept

LOMBAN, from pg. 11

Meeting His Side of the Family

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curved into a miniscule smile as her intense, black eyes landed on my husband.

Immediately, we were attacked. I was hugged, petted, and kissed. I held on tight to my daughter’s hand, but soon the charming Batuk lifted her into the air against my command. She squealed and giggled until she drooled onto her uncle. With a chuckle, Batuk placed her down with her cousins in one corner. He smiled at me, and I noticed his missing front tooth. Ronnie told me of the time the two of them roughhoused until Batuk had lost his tooth and Ronnie had busted his cheek. It was all in good fun, he had said.

Shayna had snaked her way to t h e f ro n t a n d wa s soaking up her brother’s presence. Shayna used to be Ronnie’s pride and joy.

He did everything for his sister, more than the other brothers ever would. She w a s s m a r t , g o r g e o u s , i r r e s i s t i b l e y e t unobtainable by men. He d e s c r i b e d h e r i n m a ny different ways, but those characteristics didn’t suggest the look she was giving me over Ronnie’s

INDIA, from pg. 12 Kive-­‐year-­‐old daughter, Monica, strutted around the house with stickers on her forehead, her interpretation of the Hindu bindi.

My husband’s family lives in a small hut in a neighborhood consisting of other small huts in a town with a population of 120,945. Our plane arrived in Delhi, an eight kilometers drive from Loni. Meru Cabs picked us up from the airport, and we arrived at our destination in minutes.

The hut was, in every sense of the word, a hut. The bottom portion was all orange clay, topped with a roof of twigs. A wide gap in the walls took the place of an entryway. Inside sat rows of foreign, familiar faces. Auntie Gul appeared in the doorway, greeting us in Hindu and pushing us through the gap.

S u d d e n l y, I h a d jumped into the photos on Ronnie’s dresser. Each sibling’s face sent a different photograph to mind. There was Batuk from the photo of Ronnie’s graduation, with a few more laugh lines and a lot less hair. The oldest, Kalap, stood solemnly next to Ronnie in the photo of the day he left for America. And baby Ketan, whose only picture was my husband holding his newborn brother when he was twelve.

Silently lurking in the far end of the hut was the ever-­‐unforgettable Shayna, the only sister in this handful of brothers. She was strikingly beautiful, with silky black hair Klowing down her back like a river. Her dark eyebrows arched into an everlasting question, an unending look of disbelief. Her ruby lips

shoulder. It was cold and warning. Her sunless eyes bore into mine, and her teeth snuck out of her lips. It was threatening and terrifying.

My husband came to my side and began introducing me to people I felt I already knew. Before I knew it, we were handed a mat and blanket and assigned the only vacant spot on the Kloor. Ronnie, Monica, and I Klatten our bodies against one another

[13]

INDIA, see pg. 14

INDIA, from pg. 13 in order to all Kit on the mat and have enough blanket to cover our torsos.

It was in this moment I realized Delhi, why my husband had left India, India family and all.

The next day was August 15th, the 60th anniversary of India winning its independence from almost 100 years under British rule. I noticed the family dressed up for the festivities, the woman wearing the traditional sarees dresses and men in their tunics and airy pants. I was thankful my husband was wearing jeans and a Polo shirt like me. I helped Monica into her Kloral dress, and we were off.

Starting the day off early, we began our eight-­‐miles voyage to the country’s capital. I arrive exhausted and excited.

The festivities began with the Prime Minister giving a speech to the entire nation. I didn’t understand a word of it, but Ronnie wouldn’t take his eyes off him, so I attempted keep up. About twenty minutes into the sermon, I began to hunt for Monica.

I searched, but that pink Klowery dress was nowhere in sight. I called her name, and Auntie Gul watched me with concern. I tried to explain that my daughter was missing, but she only shook her head, indicating that she didn’t understand me. Fifteen more minutes of this scavenger hunt, and I started to panic. We were crammed in a crowd of hundreds of strangers.

My little Kive-­‐year-­‐old could be anywhere.

Beads of sweat rolled down my temples. I had run so deep into the mob, I couldn’t even track Ronnie anymore. She was lost. I was lost. This was a nightmare.

A recognizable face approached me. Heavily ringed Kingers unlovingly clutched my daughter’s hand. I ran to Shayna and tried every way possible to thank her, but all I could do was cry and look like a buffoon. Shayna guided us back to our herd. Before leaving Ronnie to deal with his hysterical wife, she muttered, “She said she saw a llama.” I was too emotionally strained to be perplexed by her English.

The parade rolled by, the military and police walked the capitol’s streets, dancers swirled and galloped. I held Monica in my arms the whole time.

We returned home just after sunset. Ronnie and the rest of the clan sauntered inside immediately. I stayed behind when I noticed Shayna resting against the wall of the hut.

“I wanted to thank you for Kinding Monica.”

After a minute of silence, I began to wonder

if I had hallucinated her speaking English. I had been a little frazzled after all.

“I do not hate you. I hate Ronak for staying away.” I knew her voice. It was Ronnie’s voice when I Kirst met him. His accent has faded over the years.

I looked into her black eyes and said, “I know.

I want him to be more involved with you and your family. I want to be involved too.”

“We want you to visit. We are family.”

I touched her hand. “Let’s make a deal: we will visit as often as we can, you teach me Hindu.”

She smiled and patted my hair. “Welcome to the family.”

[14]

Fighting for Equality

By Claire LaGrone

It was a rainy day in June when my parents Kinally agreed to let me spend the remaining month of summer with my eccentric Aunt Chloe in Queensland, Australia. The main reason I wanted to visit her was so I could attend the Queensland Multicultural festival the night I arrived. The festival is about sharing culture. I have only seen it in pictures, but I know that bands from all over Australia perform.

I arrived at my Aunt’s house around 6:00 A.M. Her house was humongous, an overly generous size for one person. I walked in on her chanting aboriginal songs and dancing around.

“Hi, Aunt Chloe.” I said, faking a smile.

“It’s so great to see you!” she said.

She led me up the stairs to a dusty room.

“Make yourself at home!” she chanted on her way down the stairs.

1800’s, if he wants to collect seashells here he can.”

I said to the pale boy.

“And who are you?” the pale boy responded.

“That’s irrelevant. My point is we live in a world where everyone is equal.” I said conKidently. I did not realize how cheesy I sounded until an hour later while I was replaying the conversation in my head.

The pale boy stomped off mumbling in a language I was not aware existed. I introduced myself to the aboriginal boy.

“Hey, I’m Jane. I’m staying here this summer with my Aunt, Chloe Raine. She lives around the corner.” I said.

The boy did not speak, so I repeated what I had said but much slower.

“I’m Zane, thanks for helping me, but I really should be going or me mum will be angry with me.” he said.

“Wait, can I come?” I pleaded.

“I guess.” He said.

We walked about a mile along the beach until we reached a rundown shack. When I walked in, I was surprised to smell freshly baked Lamington cakes on a rack. Lamington cakes are an Australian delicacy.

“Hi mum.” Zane said.

“Who’s your friend?” she said while examining my appearance.

“Hi, I’m Jane.” I said.

“And how do you two know each other?” She asked.

“Um well, I was walking on the beach when…” I said

I needed some fresh air from being on a Kifteen-­‐hour Klight, so I decided to go for a walk. I was walking along the beach when I heard children’s voices.

“You aren’t welcome here, so just go home!” a tall, pale boy said in a slurred Australian accent.

“Me mum told me to collect 20 seashells. I will be gone as soon as I Kind enough shells.” An aboriginal, dark skinned boy who looked to be around fourteen responded.

“Go now!” the pale boy yelled.

I had never seen a teenage boy be so cruel before. I knew it was not my place to speak, but I could not resist.

“Look, this isn’t the [15]

EQUALITY, see pg. 16

EQUALITY, from pg. 15

Australia

Queensland, shakily.

“When she dropped her necklace in the water and I helped her get it back.”

Zane jumped in the conversation.

Zane’s Mom was suspicious of the story.

She left the shack an hour later and told Zane and me to Kinish dinner. As soon as she left, I attacked Zane with questions.

“Why’d you lie to her?” I said.

“Me mum has enough on her mind I don’t want to bother her with silly complaints.” Zane responded defensively.

“It’s not silly. That kid was so mean to you.

Your mom, mum whatever, would want to know.” I said.

“That kids name is Lewis and he is the governor’s son.” He said waiting to see how I would react.

“Just because Lewis is the governor’s son doesn’t mean he can treat you like that.” I said furiously.

“You’ve only been her for Kive hours. You don’t know anything about Queensland or the people who live in this area.” He said.

wrong. I have to stop this. I’m going to stop this.” I said enthusiastically.

“And what do you plan to do?” Zane questioned.

I was gone before he could Kinish his sentence. I ran to my Aunt’s house as fast as I could. I couldn’t do anything. I had to deal with it. That night was the annual Queensland Multi Cultural Festival. I thought it would take my mind off Zane and Lewis. I arrived at 7:00 P.M, an hour after the festival started.

The festival was amazing. There was a grand stage, a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, and so much more I could see the stars sparkling in the misty sky. I lost focus staring at their incredible beauty. I walked closer to the stage. A man named, Damon introduced himself as the governor. His son, Lewis walked up next to him. I walked around for a while until I saw a group of white kids taunting an aboriginal family of eight.

I was silent. He was right. I did not know anything about the people who live here or what they believed. However, I did know I did not like it.

“Yeah your right. I don’t know about this area and what they believe, but I know what they believe is

“Look who it is, the outcasts. ” said a scrawny white boy.

“No one wants you here. Just go home.” Another boy said.

A horrible pit swirled around in my stomach. I realized that the aboriginal children all over Queensland were being mistreated. They were not even safe at a community fair. History was repeating itself and I was a bystander. This was like the 1900’s when the native people were mistreated.

I searched the crowd for Zane. When I found him, I ran over to him and I told him about what I had just witnessed.

“What are we going to do?” I asked Zane.

“There’s nothing we can do.” He said.

EQUALITY, see pg. 21

By S. Centanni

[16]

Ringing in the New Year in a Peculiar Way

By Larkin Holtzman As soon as I stepped out of the airport in Bangkok, a blast of hot air kicked me in the face. I should’ve expected the extreme heat. After all, April is Thailand’s hottest month of the year. It is also the time for the Songkran Festival. I had heard about Songkran from my mother, Grace, who had spent four years in Southern Asia tending to malnourished children in poor cities. She had told me about the festival, which celebrated the New Year with massive water fights when I was 14, and seven years later, I was still interested. So, after months of planning for my short two week trip, I had finally arrived in Thailand. I opted to take a bus to my hotel instead of the more costly option- a taxi. As we drove through the streets of Bangkok, I grew increasingly excited. The sights on Google Images were finally coming to life. The giggling, barefooted children being chased by their friends, then chased by their mothers gave me quite the laugh.

After a half hour, bumpy drive, I was finally at my hotel. Because I was on a budget, I found a hotel nestled in between an authentic Thai market and a McDonalds instead of a massive skyscraper in the wealthy, downtown area of Bangkok.

Finally we arrived at my hotel.

After checking in, I unpacked my belongings and went to sleep.

At last, it was the beginning of Songkran. I made sure to dress for occasion in a

tank top, gym shorts, and a bathing suit.

Bangkok, Slathered with Thailand sunscreen, I set out to enjoy a day filled with water and fun. My research made it clear that the festivities were mainly in the center of Bangkok, so I began my way towards there. In about 30 minutes, I was already drenched head to toe in water. Children and adults alike were throwing water balloons, and the older men and women were spraying hoses up into the air. It was the most spectacular event I had ever seen. Time passed, and it was already dark. The festivities had died down, and I was ready to head back to my hotel. I pulled my map out of the back pocket of my drenched shorts and gasped. The map had become so wet that the ink had run down the page, leaving nothing more than a huge black and red shape that looked somewhat like a decapitated giraffe. This map was my only way of getting back to the hotel. In other words, I was lost in a sea of non-English speaking people, alone and terrified. My paranoia set in right away as I went from person to person asking for directions.

Everyone either shrugged their shoulders or walked away, signaling that they did not know

SONGKRAN, see pg. 18 [17]

SONGKRAN, from pg. 17 what I was saying. As my last hopes of getting back started to die, an elderly woman made her way up to me.

“I can help you,” she whispered in a heavy Thai accent.

“Thank you so much,” I exclaimed. I told her where I was staying and without words, she led the way.

Of course, I began a conversation right away. She didn’t seem to want to talk to me, but I learned that her name was Kanya, and that she had learned English from an American Christian missionary when she was very young. Something about her interested me. I wasn’t sure if it was her dark, piercing eyes, or if it was the way she walked so lightly that it seemed she wasn’t touching the ground. I asked her if she would meet me at my hotel around nine tomorrow morning, and after begging her for a few minutes, she reluctantly agreed. I thanked her profusely and headed in to my hotel.

“My husband was killed in the Korean War.” Kanya’s words left me feeling uneasy. I was sitting on a wooden chair in her tiny house, instead of being outside enjoying the second day of the Songkran festival. She had arrived at my hotel at exactly nine o’clock, and asked why she was there. I told her I wanted to learn more about her, and she made it clear that if I was going to, she wanted to be in the comforts of her own home.

So there I was, listening to her life story. “Thailand assisted the United Nations in the Korean War, you know. My husband was a very kind man, always helping people. When he heard troops were needed for the war, he volunteered right away.” I didn’t understand how Kanya was being so strong. She spoke with almost no emotion, but picked at the skin on her hands nervously. I asked her if she had any children. Suddenly, she turned around and walked into a different room.

“Kanya?” I questioned.

Slowly I stood up from my seat and walked into the small room where she was seated on a cot. I heard Kanya sniffle softly and looked at her. Her face was wet. The tears flowed out of her eyes like a waterfall.

“It was my

by L. Holtzman

birthday. My son, Aroon had left the house early that morning for work. It was the last day I saw him. A police man showed up at my house and told me he was struck by a car and killed. The police man gave me a box and told me that it was thrown out of Aroon’s hands when he was killed. It was a beautiful golden ring. Aroon had paid a years salary for it. And it was for me. The ring was for me. My beautiful son, never thinking of himself, had died on his way home from buying me a present.” She buried her face in her hands and wept. I cried too. I told her about my friend, Olivia, who was killed in a car crash on the way to my house. I had called her crying because of a bad breakup, and being my best friend, she came right away. I had never let go of the fact that if I hadn’t called her, she could’ve still been alive. The rest of the day we spent laughing and crying, recalling the memories of the ones we had lost.

Each day for the rest of my trip I visited Kanya.

She grew more confident in herself with every story she told. But today was the day I was dreading. It was the morning of my flight back home to San Diego. I arrived at her house early in the morning to tell her goodbye.

Leaving her might have been one of the hardest moments of my life. I hugged her tightly and told her about how she had changed my life. Kanya was an amazingly strong women and I couldn’t have left without telling her that. She had rescued me, not only when I was lost, but she had rescued me in a way I couldn’t understand. She was the reason I was finally starting to let go of my guilt for Olivia’s death. On the plane ride back home, I was looking through my bag for my headphones. I reached to the bottom and pulled out a small box that wasn’t there before. I opened it and a note fell out. Always remember how special you are. Thank you for everything you have done for me. I will never forget you. รัก, Kanya. I opened the box and inside was Aroon’s gift, the small golden ring.

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Keep Calm and Holi On

By Maddie Tufts “Don’t let the plane fall out of the sky! Oh, and have fun…,” Alden said as he and Woody sped off to go meet up with Iris for breakfast in their rented 1976 Station Wagon. I was leaving India for the weekend to meet up and stay with my sister in Bangladesh. This would be known as my weekend of peace. This was one weekend away from the soon to be college grads, who still acted as if they were still seniors in high school.

This was the same Core Four that I had been with throughout all of college, the same four insane kids that put me into the stupidest situations, and finally, the same four individuals that convinced me to go on a back packing trip in Asia as our last “crazy” Spring Break. It was just a couple of months away before we would graduate from the University of Southern California and would soon after be going our separate ways.

After conquering South Korea, most of China, and Thailand, we were staying in India for the remainder of our trip. We stayed with Woody’s old baby sitter’s niece, Rijuta, her 7 kids, and her husband. She lived in a small city, Ahmlabad. It was quite the luxury, and we were all really impressed with Woody for getting us this imposing hook up! (Sarcasm). It was like a bed and breakfast… minus the bed and the breakfast. My sister had called me at the beginning of the trip to ask me when I would visit her and her husband, Kurt. They

were going to be living in Bangladesh until the beginning of summer for Kurt’s job. I quickly denied her offer and said I would not have time, but when I saw my new home for the week, I immediately whipped out my phone and called her telling her to make up the guest bed. Before I knew it, I was on a tiny single engine plane heading to Dhaka, Bangladesh for the weekend.

When I arrived in Dhaka, the first person I saw when I came out of the airport was my typical “Boobus Americanus” sister, Grace, dressed in an outfit that cost more than my whole entire trip.

Obnoxiously jumping up and down, she was waving her hand written sign labeled: Cassie. She stood out like a sore thumb. I felt bad when I heard what she had planned out for us to do during the weekend, but then again, this was my week of peace, so I told her my weekend would just strictly be low key. Although I kept on telling her this, she kept insisting I go to dinner with her, Kurt, and their friends. Before I knew it, I was being hauled off to one of the nicest restaurants in Bangladesh in my cutoff jean shorts and Nirvana tank top.

As we were walking back to the car coming back from the restaurant, we passed a giant bonfire with many different colorful people huddled around it. Grace

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HOLI, see pg. 20

HOLI, from pg. 19 started blabbering about what this was for, but that was the least of my concerns. I had been trying to Dhaka, get in touch with one of my Bangladesh three friends in Ahmlabad to let them know that my flight changed to tomorrow night opposed to leaving the following d a y .

Trying to do this, I also had to pretend to care what Grace was saying and follow her at the same time, because if you took one wrong turn in Bangladesh, you were lost. I finally arrived home, and naturally, I plopped on the bed and slept like a baby.

I woke up the following morning as early as I could, so I could avoid Grace and her neurotic, daily planned schedule. Kurt offered me a ride and told me to check out Old Dhaka. Not knowing much about it or where anything was, he brought me there bright and early.

Coming out of lunch, I looked down the road to see a bunch of the colorful people. Assuming that this was what Grace was babbling about last night, I went closer to get a better look. Before I knew it, this little boy came up to me and chucked his purple paint filled water bottle at me, and I had become one of these colorful people.

After I became fully covered in paint and looked like a neon rainbow, I found out that this was a festival called “Holi,” and it was celebrated on the first day of Spring commemorating that good comes over all evil. People were scattered all throughout the streets throwing vibrant colored, scented paints at random people and smearing colored powder on their faces. I felt like I was back in high school at one of those Day Glow concerts, where it was all just a bunch of sweaty, under aged teenagers listening to ear-piercing dubstep music while getting drenched in loads of neon paints. At this particular event, I felt like I was in the front row.

I continued to play along in the festivities until I felt my phone vibrating and was unable to pick it up

because of it being saturated in paint. My jolly spirit of the festival of colors was briskly lost. I had no idea where I was and only relied on my phone to guide me everywhere. No one spoke any English, and when I asked anyone a simple question, they looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. Oh wait, Dhaka is the capital of Bangladesh, they have to have an Apple store. I later found out that the nearest Apple store was in Bangkok, Thailand, which was more than 2,000 miles away. I lost my cool and started walking in circles convincing myself I would find my way home. This was almost impossible considering I did not know where Grace or Kurt’s number or where their house was. As I looked at all of these cheerful people that were commemorating this festival, I could not help to think that all of these people have probably been in worse situations than me in their lifetime, yet they still were so happy and learned to make the best of it.

Sulking in my sorrows, accepting the fact that I would never be found, miss my flight back to India, and have to remain lost in Old Dhaka for the rest of my life, I decided to act like one of the high spirited Bangladeshis and make the best of it. I joined back in the festivities and continued to get bombed with more paint. One person caught my eye. It was a familiar face. It was my sister’s friend we had gone to dinner with the night before. She told me she would give me a ride to my sisters. Other than my sister yelling at me for not answering her calls, I was beyond relieved and so thankful.

When I arrived to Grace’s house, I raced to the shower. As the radiant colors traveled down my body turning the water brown and murky, I remembered how unfortunate some of the people of Bangladesh were, yet they still lived their life to the fullest and made the best of whatever was to happen. I wasn’t even in the worst of situations, but I did what I could. I kept calm and Holied on, and the best was to come.

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EQUALITY, from pg. 16 I was not about to do nothing. I ran through the crowd before he could catch me. I pushed and shoved until I made my way to the stage.

“Um, Governor Damon can I have that microphone?” I asked.

“This little lady has something she would like to say.” He joked to the crowd.

“What is your name, miss?” he said while handing me the microphone.

“I’m Jane Clark. I’ve only been in this province for twelve hours, but what I have witnessed is awful.” I said to the crowd.

“And what have you witnessed?” the mayor asked.

“White kids discriminating against the aboriginal people who live here.”

“Do you have proof, a name maybe?” he asked trying to make me look bad.

“Your son. Why don’t you ask him what he did today.” I remarked haughtily.

The governor was stunned.

“Raise your hand if you are aboriginal kid or adult who has had a white person discriminate against you!” I shouted.

and assemblies. When it was time for me to go home, I promised all the friends I’d made I would return as soon as possible. I only thought one person could make a difference in fairytales, but I proved myself wrong.

Thousands of hands raised.

Two men in tuxedos escorted me off the stage. Masses of aboriginal people left the festival. They immediately began protesting against discrimination. For the remainder of the month I helped organize protests

The Coasts of Queensland

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Map Your Trek Across Asia and the South Pacific

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Do the...

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...Numbers

Australian Population

Australian Religions

Australian Languages

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Asian Souvenirs

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Six Must See Destinations The Sydney Opera House Sydney, Australia

Koishikawa Korakuen Tokyo, Japan

The floating soccer field Singapore, Indonesia The Sky Tower Auckland, New Zealand

The Great Wall of China Beijing, China

The Tsing Ma Bridge Hong Kong, China

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Six Activities You Won’t Want to Miss in Asia The first activity you should do is the walk Great Wall of China. This ancient wall was built in the 7th century B.C. by the first emperor of China Qin Shi Huang to keep the Mongolians out of China. Its stretches 5,500 miles and is visible from space. Take cable cars up to the wall and walk with your family or loved one as you enjoy the beautiful ancient scenery.

Visiting the Taj Mahal, one of the most beautiful buildings, is a great family activity you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

The Taj Mahal was constructed in 1632 out of white marble; Ustad Lahauri designed it.

In Agra, India, this majestic building was built to be tomb for Shah Jahan and is wife.

SCUBA/ snorkel The Great Barrior Reef, the world’s largest reef stretching 1,600 miles and is 133,000 squair miles, was named by CNN one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

There are countless colorful fish and coral underwater just waiting to be explored.

Watch the Philip Island Penguin Parade.

Spend the day seeing all kinds of cute koalas, kangaroos, and seals during the day, then watch hundreds of small penguins march out to the sea to fish and play just after dark.

see ACTIVITIES, pg.

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ACTIVITIES, from pg.

Visit the Giant Buddha in Hong Kong! Climb the 288 steps to see one of the most beautiful, unique, statues ever built. It was built in 1993 and took 12 years to build. Standing at 112 feet tall, this work of art attracts thousands of people each year.

See the ancient underground Terracotta warriors! A farmer was digging a well on his farm in Shaanxi Province when he came upon this mind-blowing sight: thousands of life-sized statues of Terracotta soldiers.

These soldiers were constructed in 210 B.C. as a tomb for Emperor Qin Shi Huang.

Calling all of the Harajuku lovers!

by C. LaGrone

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V while o l u n t e e r i n g O p p o r t u n i t i e s making the world a better place!

Visit an exotic place

Philanthropists visiting Asia will be delighted to know about the “Environmental Awareness Project” in Nepal, Kathmandu. The goal of the project is to inform the children of Asia on the importance of the environment, to give travelers the opportunity to gain knowledge about Nepal and to help the community grow closer. This is a great experience for students that are spending a semester abroad. Join today!

Feminists traveling in Nepal will love supporting the “Asia’s Woman Empowerment Project.” Everyday, this project provides women from all over Asia with hope of bettering their lives. Anyone is welcome to help teach the women of Asia the basic ways of life. These women are deprived and appreciate all the help they receive. Join this cause today!

J. Rowan

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A unique organization worth volunteering for is the Go Abroad China (GAC). They visit local orphanages in Beijing and help the kitchen staff while caring for disadvantaged kids. GAC assist children with autism and other disabilities, and they help out with their daily classes, such as music and art. At poor schools, volunteers with offer to teach English to the students.

These are non-governmental schools, which means the government does not support them in any way. The school board has difficulty finding resources needed to be educators. GAC helps provide those resources.

Go Abroad China also equips travelers with a great taste of Chinese culture. When volunteers are not working, the organization, led by professional, experienced staff members, guides tours through China’s capital and participates in cultural activities. International phone call services are permitted; housing accommodations are provided. Many of the travelers are college age or just out of college. Each session contains of approximately fifteen volunteers. Language lesions are offered for those who do not know Chinese. If you are interested, please go to www.goabroadchina.org to send in your online application.

by A. Murphy

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MUST-SEE Movies Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Professor and explorer Indiana Jones finds himself in a remote part of India after a plane crash over the Himalayas. The villagers all believe that evil sprits have taken their sacred stone. Now that their children are disappearing, Indiana comes to the rescue!

z Movies set in Asia and South Pacific that will help you understand Asian culture z

Kung Fu Panda Set in ancient China, this film highlights the country’s traditional mannerism as Po the Panda finds himself titled as Dragon Warior, thoughhe lacks skills in martial arts.

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IRON AND SILK

Our Lips Are Sealed

Twin big-mouthed teenage girls are moved around the globe by the FBI after witnessing a bank robbery. In Sydney, Australia, the girls find themselves struggling to this new crowd.

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Mark Salzman has always been extremely interested in Chinese culture . After taking teaching English in Changsha, China, Salzman has to learn to adapt to the new customs and traditions.

A handful of books that will help you capture the vibe of Asia and South Pacific culture:

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Experience Japan While Discovering Who You Truly Are To Ellen, leaving home wasn’t the hard part about the move to Japan. Being liked by her very proper, but sick grandmother and fitting in to this new way of life was. As she meets new people and overcomes obstacles thrown in her way, Ellen finds meaning in her mother’s motives to move. Filled with humor and a pinch of heartbreak, Namako: Sea Urchin tells a story of a once broken family, whose experiences in their new homeland bring them together in a way they never thought possible.

A novel by Linda

Watanabe McFerrin [35]

Expecting the Unexpected in China From Tibet to Hong Kong, Polly Evans travels all throughout China in every way possible. In her 2005 travel memoir, Polly encounters many different customs, places, and people of China, each having their own story behind it. Between eating noodles on the bottom bunk of a m i n i b u s t o a l m o s t i n g e s t i n g d o g , s h e experiences the clash of c u l t u r e s q u i t e f r e q u e n t l y. A s t h i s English lady takes on China in a more different way than most, she discovers not only the good and bad of the Chinese culture, but also herself.

A memoir by Polly Evans

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The Struggle to Find Home At a young age, Vietnamese immigrant Bich Nguyen finds herself lost in a land of Mary Janes and red Tupperware containers. A land with blonde haired, blue eyes civilians. A land called Grand Rapids, Michigan. Bich begins the live a double life: staring at her grandmother’s Buddha and eating mi soup at home while striving to be the perfect American on the outside, the kind with mowed laws and their own bedrooms. Read Stealing Buddha’s Dinner to join Bich on her journey deeper and deeper into American culture while holding on to her Vietnamese customs.

A memoir by Bich Nguyen

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Journeying to the Land Down Under

A memoir by Bill Bryson

Join Bill Bryson as he journeys through some of the best adventures Southeast Australia has to offer. Bill Bryson’s In a Sunburned Country captures, in great detail, his very different journeys to ancient historic sites, friendly towns, scorching deserts, beautiful seas and the great history of Australia. See Australia as Bryson did while he was visiting the most beautiful and most dangerous places to visit on earth.

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Douglas Rees Creates an Artful Masterpiece Smoking Mirror: An Encounter with Paul Gauguin by Douglas Rees tells the story of a fifteen-­‐year-­‐old sailor’s life with Paul Gauguin in Tahiti. Smoking Mirror is an exciting novel, filled with surprises, art, revenge, nature, and love.

The novel is a great read for young adults and anybody who likes art. Smoking Mirror also tells the story of several painting by Paul Gauguin.

A novel by Douglas Rees

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Go on a journey deep into the silk factories of China while reading Women of the Silk!

Gail Tsukiyama’s 1991 Women of the Silk is a great experience to read. The realistic story of young girls being forced to work in a factory with little daylight is disturbing yet enlightening. It reveals the hidden life of a teenage girl sent away by her family in need of money.

This novel gives a new perspective on the exhausting lives of young girls in 1900’s China.

A novel by Gail Tsukiyama [40]

Visit Asia & the South Pacific.