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Capitalist Pigs

Posted: August 07, 2004

DAY 285: Growing up in the 1970s and 80s, I always knew Russia as the U.S.S.R., the Soviet Union, a place where citizens living under the system of Communism drank vodka and stood on really long lines at the government store to buy toilet paper. On a national scale, they were America’s adversary since the beginning of the Cold War, a formidable competitor in the space race, the arms race and boxing in Rocky IV.

Classic Russia

Posted: August 07, 2004

DAY 286: “What does this mean?” I asked my traveling companion Sam, showing him a digital photo of a protest rally I took like an obnoxious American tourist by a statue of Karl Marx in Moscow’s Revolution Square. There was a Cyrillic character I couldn’t recognize in a word before the English phrase, “Go home!”

Sam analyzed the word. “Oh, do you know what that says? Yankee, go home!”

Funny, the protesters that I took a photo of like a Yankee were protesting me.

Encounters With Lenin

Posted: August 07, 2004

DAY 287: “Is it Communist or Capitalist today?” I asked Sam from my bed.

“It’s looking pretty Communist out there,” he answered, looking out the window. “Communist” was cloudy and gray and “capitalist” was bright and sunny.

“Alright!” I said. When you’re a tourist in a place like Moscow, sometimes you want that old stereotypical classic Communist feel.

A Room For The Night

Posted: August 07, 2004

DAY 288: With my traveling buddy Sam gone, so went my room to go halfsies on in a prime location in Moscow, right outside Red Square. In true The Global Trip fashion, I had failed to make a reservation for the night in town, but just kept my bags in the hotel storage and hoped I could find a cheaper opening in a relatively convenient location before spaces filled up as the day went on. More importantly that that, I was to leave on the Trans-Siberian Railway the next day and I didn’t exactly have my train tickets yet.

Body Language

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 289: In the 19th century, America was on a conquest to expand its territory. Geographically, that meant head out to the old west, back in a time when it was the new west.

Meanwhile in Russia, a similar phenomenon was going on. While most European countries were scrambling for territories in Africa, Russia expanded east, consolidating its far east posts into a greater nation.

Both America and Russia linked their outer territories the same way: by laying down the tracks and constructing grand railways.

Crashing in Yekaterinburg

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 290: The No. 118 train continued to cruise eastbound to the outer limits of Europe as the sun came up to start a new Trans-Siberian day. Despite the stereotype that there’s nothing in the region but snow, it was starting to get sunny and warm — after all, it was summer.

Grudka

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 291: “Breakfast is ready,” Tonya said, wearing an apron from the kitchen.

“Okay.”

“It was ready an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry!” I apologized. The night before they asked me what time to have breakfast ready by and I told them “nine” — only to sleep in until 9:30.

The Things Between Europeans and Asians

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 292: The continents Europe and Asia are separated naturally by the Ural Mountain Range, which extends from the northwest of Kazakhstan to the Kara Sea in the Arctic Circle. The mountain range is fairly wide as most mountain ranges are, and without any legal boundary between two different nations (it’s mostly all in Russia), it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where Europe ends and Asia begins. As far as I’m concerned, the mountains are the wide border between the two continents, just as Central America is a big border between North and South America.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 293: The day before in the Yekaterinburg Guide Center office, I had met a South African guy doing the Trans-Siberian trip like me. He too was somewhat upset that so far it hadn’t been the international party on wheels of vodka and chess that people made it out to be, but was happy enough that he had lucked out in his compartments with nice people. “I haven’t been stuck with three drunk Russian guys,” he said. “But I suppose with all my good luck, the bad luck is sure to come.”

Bowling For Siberia

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 294: “So is Novosibirsk what you thought it to be?” my 20-year-old host Julia asked me at dinner that night.

“I didn’t think there’d be a city this big here. I thought I’d be staying in some small house with an old couple. I had that image of the babushka,” I said. By that time in the evening, the entire image of the Siberian city of Novosibirsk had changed for me.

Lucky Lazy Day

Posted: August 10, 2004

DAY 295: When I boarded the No. 8 train the night before, I was anxious. Would I be assigned to a second-class compartment with three drunken Russian mafia-types again, or encounter a sexy, but questionable blonde bombshell in a black bra? I got to my compartment assignment, #25 in Wagon #006. Inside was a young guy in a uniform.

The Real Siberia

Posted: August 11, 2004

DAY 296: The sun rose around six to burn off the morning mist of the Siberian countryside. I was awake before my alarm clock set for seven — my internal body clock was all out of whack with the constant adjust of time zones every other day.

No Aunt May

Posted: August 15, 2004

DAY 297: Living in a homestay with Nina was sort of being like Spider-man’s alter ego Peter Parker. I lived in my own room with an old woman with white hair who, without me might be pretty lonely, just like Peter Parker and his Aunt May after his Uncle Ben’s death. Meanwhile, she, nor did many people I’ve met, knew of my secret identity as this big world traveler — a superhero to those stuck in office cubicles — with The Global Trip insignia emblazoned on my chest. (I don’t really reveal my 16-month travel plan to locals, thinking that they might think I’m some sort of millionaire. RTWs make you poor!)

Deadpan Looks By The Deep Blue Lake

Posted: August 16, 2004

DAY 298: From what I had heard, many travelers on the Trans-Siberian Railway only stop once on the way from Moscow to the Far East in Irkutsk in order to see nearby Lake Baikal (rhymes with “bagel”). The shimmering deep blue lake — the world’s deepest body of freshwater — was formed after a collision of tectonic plates. It is believed that as the plates separate over time, the lake will get deeper and wider, forming the earth’s fifth ocean. Until then, it still remains the one “must see” place in Siberia.

Gangs of Siberia

Posted: August 16, 2004

DAY 299: As a tourist, you don’t really have to worry about the Russian mafia, so my Lonely Planet guidebook says; they are only involved in high-scale crimes involving big business or bribing police or politicians, like the Italian mafia in The Godfather. Whether or not it was the actual Russian mafia that harassed me on the second leg of my train journey when three drunk Russians sicked fake or corrupt cops on me I don’t know, but that’s not to say the actual Russian mafia is alive and well, not only in Russia, but around the world. I learned all of this at my family-run B&B’s son Nicolai, a fine 23-year-old Russian guy with very good English.

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Asia

Posted: August 19, 2004

DAY 300: It’s somewhat fitting that I stumbled upon a interracial wedding party taking a big new family portrait in Soviet Square in Ulan Ude (picture below, which I took by posing as one of the many wedding photographers). The bride and her side of the family had Russian Caucasian faces while her new hubby had an East Asian one, just like the ones on his side of the family.

Surrogate Parents

Posted: August 19, 2004

DAY 301: Ulan Baatar (pronounced Ulan BAAT’r), which means “Red Hero,” has been the capital of Mongolia since its “independence” from the Manchu Dynasty by help of the Russian Bolsheviks (“Independence” is in quotes because Mongolia eventually fell under the strong political and cultural influence of the Soviets.) The man responsible for the defeat of the Manchus and the eventual formation of the People’s Government of Mongolia was Sükhbaatar (literally “Axe Hero”) who had formed the army that teamed up with the Bolsheviks. A statue of this national hero stands in the middle of Ulan Baatar’s Sükhbaatar Square, where a mausoleum that once held his remains stands at the northern side, flanked by the Parliament House.

The Return of Ghenghis Khan

Posted: August 19, 2004

DAY 302: “Between the National History Museum and the Natural History Museum, which one is better?” I asked Tatiana at her Legend Tours’ office after arranging an excursion to the nearby Mongolian countryside the next day.

“I think the Natural History Museum,” she answered. “But I think you have time for both.”

Little Yurt On The Prairie

Posted: August 23, 2004

DAY 303: I’ve titled this one “Little Yurt On The Prairie,” playing off of the title of the book and 70s television show Little House On The Prairie. I never read the book, nor do I remember the TV show that well, just that in the introduction, young Laura Ingalls (played by young Melissa Gilbert) trips and falls as she runs down a hill. I remember being it really funny.

Anyway, if you’ve followed The Blog through my voyage through Siberia, it probably didn’t come to any surprise that once I got to Ulan Baatar, Mongolia, it too was not a deserted city in the middle of nowhere. To me, unless a city has a good vibe — like New York, Paris, Berlin — it is pretty generic. As pleasant as Ulan Baatar was — particularly my host family—it was just another modern industrial city after seeing its cultural sights and museums, and so for my last three full days in Mongolia, I decided to spend it in Mongolia’s countryside.

Wild Wild East

Posted: August 24, 2004

DAY 304: I’ve never been a cowboy in the traditional old American Wild Wild West sort of way, but I’ve seen a lot of classic Westerns. Actually, that’s not true, I’ve only see a couple — or three if you include Mel Brooks’ western parody Blazing Saddles. In any case, the point I’m trying to make is that the landscape of the Gorkhi-Terelj National Park was reminiscent of being in the old American west — especially when you are on the back of a horse all day wearing a sort of cowboy hat.

Will The Real Mongolian Please Stand Up?

Posted: August 24, 2004

DAY 305: Being of Filipino descent, my physical appearance blended in pretty well in South America, making me able to walk amongst the locals “undetected” — until I tried to say something and my cover was blown. I bring this up because I sort of blended in as a Mongolian as well (as long as I kept my mouth shut), and I contrasted my guide/driver Tatiana, a blonde, pale-skinned European Russian-born mother who was fluent in Mongolia, having lived in Ulan Baatar for quite a while with her baby son.

Chopsticks and Train Tracks

Posted: August 25, 2004

DAY 306: I woke up early that morning in Ulan Baatar to catch my 8:05 a.m. train to Beijing, China. Everything was packed and read to go by seven — except for one thing: my watch.

Money, Lodging and Beer

Posted: August 26, 2004

DAY 307: “Did you see The Wall?” Colombian Pilar from Barcelona asked me in the early afternoon as I entered the dining car — a new Chinese dining car that had been swapped for the Mongolian one during our overnight transformation to conform to the width of the Chinese rail system.

“Huh?” I said in confusion.

“The Great Wall,” she said before saying some exclamation in Spanish. “The conductor told me we stopped here for five minutes to see The Wall because a lot of passengers are foreigners.” Four minutes had already passed since we had stopped. The whole time I was just in my compartment reading; I thought the stop was just one of the many other stops of the day, in a small village for quick pick-ups and drop-offs.

Forbidden No More

Posted: August 26, 2004

DAY 308: At the heart of Beijing lies the Gugong, the Imperial Palace, more commonly known as The Forbidden City. Why it was still known as The Forbidden City I don’t know — they just let me (and hundreds of others) right in through the front gate.

The Fantastic Wall

Posted: August 28, 2004

DAY 309: I remember watching a television special as a kid in the 1980s when hotshot magician David Copperfield performed a “magic” illusion in which he walked through The Great Wall of China. Actually, from what I recall, you never really saw him pass through The Wall; on both sides of The Wall he put up a backlit translucent screen so that you only saw a silhouette of David Copperfield go in one end and out the other. The end result, as mysteriously executed as it was, was pretty lame.

No Common Denominator

Posted: August 31, 2004

DAY 310: What does a dead body, a heavenly temple, a lama, an old wise man and a dozen girls on a bike have in common? I’ve asked myself the question over and over trying to find an angle for this Blog entry but have come up with a blank — my day was spent visiting a pretty random collection of sights within Beijing.

No Summer Coincidence

Posted: August 31, 2004

DAY 311: “If there’s anything I’ve learned [in my travels so far], it’s that nothing is coincidental,” my American roommate Paul from Kansas said as we entered a sort of deep conversation about the meaning of Life — perhaps to balance out the fact that we had just watched Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson and Snoop Dogg in Starsky & Hutch on bootleg DVD on my iBook connected to our TV, which has no real redeeming philosophical value whatsoever.

The Zoo Debate

Posted: September 01, 2004

DAY 312: Zoos are controversial things. One on hand, they aim to bring wild animals from faraway lands to urban areas, so that city folk who don’t have the time, money or courage to see them in the wild can simply stroll around and see them all in a day before “Must See TV” starts. On the other hand, innocent animals are held in captivity for the convenience of Man — their treatment depending on the level of professionalism of the zoo. Lonely Planet China‘s biased paragraph of the Beijing Zoo states that “All zoos are animal prisons, but Beijing Zoo seems like death row.” As readers of The Blog may know, you can’t believe everything you read in a guidebook — particularly a Lonely Planet one — so I decided to see the zoo for myself. Besides, I wanted to see the pandas.

Workin’ For The Blog

Posted: September 01, 2004

DAY 313: Everyday when I’m behind on The Blog I tell myself, This is the day you’ll just stay in and catch up, Erik. You become a writer when you write because you have to, not because you want to. Some days I listen to my inner monologue, but other days I go out to do more — all for the benefit of The Blog and its readers of course. I swear, it’s hard work playing the role of producer, keeping each daily entry interesting and different from others so as a whole, The Blog doesn’t get stale. Anyway, I decided that this would be the day to catch up, to finish as much I could before my 5:33 p.m. train to my next destination, Xi’an.

He Said, She Said in Xi’an

Posted: September 01, 2004

DAY 314: Xi’an, the former imperial capital for eleven dynasties since China’s territories were unified by Emperor Qin Shi Huang of the Qin dynasty, lies about a third of the way westward from the eastern Pacific coast. Here, the Great Silk Road was established linking trade between the Romans and the Far East, making Xi’an one of western China’s most prosperous cities not only politically but commercially. Today, Xi’an is the political and commercial capital of the Shaanxi province, a modern city of five million whose center is surrounded by protective city stone walls. For tourists, it is the base for visiting one of China’s must-sees: Qin’s Terracotta Warriors.

The Farmer That Found A Warrior Within

Posted: September 01, 2004

DAY 315: In 1974, a group of peasant farmers in a remote countryside of the Shaanxi province were digging up a well. Instead of water, they stumbled upon something else: without aiming to do so, they had found one of the greatest archaeological sites of the 20th century, Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s army of The Terracotta Warriors.

Big Wild Goose Chase

Posted: September 05, 2004

DAY 316: Xi’an’s center is surrounded by a moat and a protective wall that was originally built to fortify the city during the era of dynasties, but nowadays it just sort of separates the city from the suburbs in the most straightforward manner possible. Most of it has been restored — complete with dress up guards at the gates for show — forming a sort of jogging/biking trail on top perfect for a morning bike ride — which was how I spent the early morning. It was a relaxing start to another hectic day on the road.

Sichuan Style

Posted: September 05, 2004

DAY 317: Chengdu is the capital of the Sichuan province, the southwestern province before the Chinese occupied territory of Tibet. Chengdu is a modern metropolis as most Chinese capitals are, known for its famous school of traditional medicine, its panda breeding center, and above all, its spicy cuisine.

Porn For Pandas

Posted: September 06, 2004

DAY 318: When you look at a panda, chances are you don’t think of it as a “sexy beast.” That sort of description goes to a sleek animal like a panther, not that I’ve ever had the urge to spoon a panther. Pandas are, from what I gather of mass public opinion, considered to be “cute,” which according to Rough Guide, contributes to the fact that they have an unfair advantage over other animals on the endangered species list; it is their cuteness that people respond to that have launched worldwide awareness and conservation programs of the otherwise lazy animal. If the dodo was an attractive animal, it might still be around today — although I doubt I’ve have the urge to spoon a dodo either.

Chicken Styrofoam

Posted: September 06, 2004

DAY 319: I was awake at 6 a.m. before most people in the Dragon Town Hostel were awake. I was down at breakfast by 6:30, when I met the only other guy up and ready to go: Wayne, an Australian technician for Telstra on holiday in China for three weeks. We had both waken up for the same reason: to get the 6:40 minivan transport to a bigger bus that would take us to Chongqing, the starting point of a three-day Yangzi River cruise we had booked.

Submerged

Posted: September 08, 2004

DAY 320: Taking a river cruise on the Yangzi River, the world’s third longest, was one of my must do’s in this first visit to China for me — it’s impossible to see everything in one trip — since a lot of people have told me to do it before it’s too late. At the time of writing, construction of a huge dam was already two thirds complete and when it is finished, the waters upstream from the dam will rise and submerge the natural and man-made treasures along its banks in the same manner the Aswan High Dam of the Nile submerged a lot of Nubian sites in southern Egypt.

Gorgeous Gorges

Posted: September 08, 2004

DAY 321: The Yangzi River stretches for over 3,960 miles from the western mountains of Chinese-occupied Tibet all the way to the East China Sea, but it is the 215 odd miles between Chongqing and Yichang that most tourists travel through. It is on this stretch that the mighty Yangzi cuts through the famous Three Gorges, a big draw for people to experience, much like The Three Tenors: Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo and (if you’ll allow me to borrow a bit from Seinfeld) The Other Guy. (Thanks, Jerry.)

The Tower in the Detroit of China

Posted: September 09, 2004

DAY 322: Wuhan, the capital city of the Hubei province, is another big “generic” modern Chinese metropolis, an inevitable stopping point for anyone traveling through the region; it is not only a place of industry but a major transportation hub. Although it has historical significance of being one of the meeting points of Sun Yatsen’s anti-Imperialist society of the early 20th century, generally speaking, it is not a particularly attractive city to tour around; Blogreader F. Levente once called it the “Detroit of China,” and I’m sure he meant that in a negative way with no intended offense to you readers out there from Detroit. (Then again, I don’t know, maybe he hates your Detroitian guts and wishes both cities a plague of rabid beavers.) In any case, I found myself in this “Detroit of China” with others from the Yangzi River cruise when our bus arrived at a confusing bus station around eight in the morning.

Mistaken Identities

Posted: September 12, 2004

DAY 323: As an American born from a bloodline from the Philippines — the southeast Asian archipelago country once colonized by the Spanish — I have a certain façade that has been mistaken for other nationalities, depending on what country I’m in. In South America, locals often approached me with words in Spanish under the assumption that perhaps I was one of them, and whenever I had trouble responding right away, they assumed I was just from the neighboring country. Ecuadorians thought I might have been Peruvian. Brazilians thought I might have been Bolivian.

A Couple of Monkeys

Posted: September 13, 2004

DAY 324: I’ve racked my brain for two days trying to find an funny angle for this Blog entry, and why exactly I don’t know — there are monkeys in this entry! I’ve always thought monkeys were funny ever since I met the orangutan from The Cannonball Run II (his name escapes my mind) who made a special guest appearance at one of my Cub Scout meetings. (He was already a washed out simian actor by that time.)

Chinese Spider-Man

Posted: September 14, 2004

DAY 325: The summer before I left for this trip, my friends (and Blogreaders) Cheryl and da Rzz had started to get into indoor rock climbing, going practically every weekend to an indoor rock gym in northern New Jersey, somewhere between an industrial factory and a mafia safe house. They had invited me several times to join them so that I too could experience the hard-earned endorphin rushes of accomplishment after reaching the top of a completely fabricated rock face with colorful fake rock holds bolted up to them.

I didn’t really get too into their newfound hobby — mainly because I didn’t want to get hooked right before leaving the country for sixteen months (or until money runs out, whichever comes first), and besides, rock climbing used up every muscle in my body and it made me feel like I had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler for the next couple of days. Don’t get me wrong, I liked going rock climbing with them, especially the part when we descended down the wall, took off our harnesses and went down the road to the Tex-Mex place down the road to get some beer and sizzling fajitas.

Dishes

Posted: September 16, 2004

DAY 326: When I arrived in Yangshou three days prior, I was approached by a tout trying to sell me on the perks of his hotel, so that I might give him business instead of giving it to a place listed in a guidebook that didn’t need any extra publicity. This has been a fairly common thing in my travels when arriving at a new place — someone tells me I’ll get a private room with a private shower and hot water (24/7), etc. for a price just as good as any place listed in a guidebook. While these unlisted places might be a steal, comfort exactly isn’t the most important thing I look for as a solo traveler. The most important factor is finding a place listed so that perhaps I’d meet other fellow solo travelers with guidebooks to hang out with. If you’ve followed The Blog for a while now, this strategy has been the reason why I’ve met so many “characters” on the road.

Forgotten Names

Posted: September 16, 2004

DAY 327: “I know you,” I said to a passer-by in the restaurant/cafe next to the hostel the night before. We had made eye contact two nights prior at the hostel’s little computer area.

“Yeah, last night at the internet,” the voice of the familiar-faced woman said. I knew that I recognized her face from somewhere, but couldn’t exactly place it right away. I’m absolutely horrible with names — I forget almost immediately after I hear them — and I only really remember if I write them down so I have a crib sheet to look at. It’s cheating, I know.

Keeping Up With The Raichelsons

Posted: September 17, 2004

DAY 328: When the British Empire defeated the Chinese and took over Hong Kong in 1898, little did they know that 99 years later it would eventually be taken over by the Starbucks Empire. Regardless of the British handing back Hong Kong to China in 1997, Hong Kong has remained the gateway for international business in Asia (and therefore trendy coffee shops), attracting all the major international banking and financial institutions. You know, the big boys like Citigroup and HSBC — and even smaller guys like Bob’s Piggy Bank and Barbecue Emporium (that’s not actually true). While Hong Kong has been losing business to upcoming Singapore and Shanghai lately, it is still the shimmering showcase of sleek post-modern architecture that pays homage to the perpetual sharp and sophisticated wheeling and dealing going on inside its shiny glass façade.

A Day Away With A Big Buddha

Posted: September 18, 2004

DAY 329: “Are you in on the Buddha?” Aviva asked me. Out of context that may sound like a request to try some wild hallucinogenics, but she was referring to a plan she and Moe had to spend their Sunday away from Central Hong Kong to see the sights of nearby Lantau Island. Any chance Moe could get away from the skyscrapers of Hong Kong to see more of this part of the world, he was all for it.

“Sure,” I said. Moe’s co-worker Meg and upstairs neighbor was in on the Buddha too.

The Greens Under The Glass

Posted: September 20, 2004

DAY 330: Everybody goes back to work on Monday in Hong Kong. The movers, the shakers, the wheelers and dealers, Moe, Meg and the 150,000 Filipina maids — everyone except Aviva and me. While Aviva would eventually look into more productive things to do for her six month stay in Hong Kong with Moe — fundraising for the local Jewish Community Center, possibly teaching English or learning Cantonese, planning vacations — this week she would be my tour guide in Hong Kong. Besides, she wanted to be out of the apartment when the maid came (courtesy of Citigroup) so it wouldn’t seem like she was a loser with nothing to do; the week before she was in and out of the apartment to run errands but always managed to coincidentally be home when Julia the Filipina housekeeper made her daily rounds.

The Six Days Between Dawn And Dusk

Posted: September 22, 2004

DAY 331: Travel has a weird effect on the perception of time. When you’re doing so many new things out of a daily routine, everything becomes a blur; every experience is in one ear and out the other. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours, hours like days. In the eleven months I’ve traveled thus far, it feels like I’ve been away for at least three lifetimes already. Days seem especially long when you pack activities in right from the crack of dawn.

The Big Bang / Getting Money

Posted: September 22, 2004

DAY 332: “Just go ahead, I can’t run in these [flip-flop sandals]!” Aviva called to me as we were running through an underground pipeline tunnel in the Causeway Bay district. I quickened by pace. There was no time to respond. There was about to be a very big boom within seconds and we had to get there before it went off.

Portuguese Chinese

Posted: September 24, 2004

DAY 333: Great Britain, as great as it was before the break-up of The Beatles, wasn’t the only European power meddling in places on the other side of the world. During the hey day of seafaring trade, Portugal was also a major power of international commerce, particularly in Asia after they had wisely decided to rent a piece of land from the Chinese government in 1557 at the strategic location where three major Chinese rivers fed out into the ocean. This colonial port, known as Macau, became a major hub of trade in between the east and west and propelled the Portugal in the import/export business — eventually other countries used Macau as a port too. Some Portuguese settled in Macau, importing their language, food, architecture and religion to an otherwise Chinese area. Macau was handed back over to China in 1999 — two years after the UK handed back Hong Kong — but the Portuguese legacy can still be felt today as it stands as one of China’s Special Administrative Regions (SARs), with its own currency, immigration/customs regulations and unrestricted gambling laws.

Cubes and Triads

Posted: September 24, 2004

DAY 334: “I suddenly remember that I don’t miss this,” I said to Aviva. We were sitting in a familiar but frightening place to me: an office cubicle, Moe’s desk and workspace on the 50th floor of Hong Kong’s Citigroup building (near the famous Bank of China building, designed by world-renowned architect I.M. Pei). Aviva had to drop something off to her husband and I tagged along to see the inner workings of Hong Kong’s high-paced financial world — only to discover it was just like the generic American office environment, the battleground in the modern classic film Office Space.

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SIXTEEN MONTHS AROUND THE WORLD (in chronological order):

PROLOGUE:

SOUTH AMERICA:

AFRICA:

EUROPE & RUSSIA:

ASIA:

NORTH AMERICA:

EPILOGUE:

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