BOLIVIAN

SALT
PHOTO PAGES
by amy fisher

FLATS 26 pg.
 ISSUE
CONTENTS »
TWO WHY HAVEN’T I HEARD OF...
54
Vaing Vieng, Laos.
RANDOM INFORMATION
06 LOCAL KNOWLEDGE
Mount Everest has finally joined the 21st century. Thanks to Nepali firm Ncell 64
climbers can now enjoy full 3G coverage Talking rugby, beach life and sports with Auckland, New Zealand native Jeffrey
Lee.
WHERE THE ROAD HAS TAKEN ME
12
REVIEWS
Going from family trips with comfortable accommodations to a sixty litre pack,
74
three pairs of underwear, and my own savings tucked away in my money belt “On The Road” by Jack Kerouac
was a big step
TRAVELER PROFILE
BOLIVIAN SALT FLATS 78
26 I am a 23-year-old Canadian journalism student and I have recently come back
Photoset of the Bolivian Salt Flats by Amy Fisher. from my first backpacking adventure in South America.

HOW NOT TO GET SLAPPED OR masthead »

SLAP OTHERS IN SOUTH KOREA Editor: Kevin Landry / editor@rovemag.com

38 Sales: Andrew McLeod / sales@rovemag.com

A lesson plan about avoiding the ever awkward social faux-pas, by English
teacher Ashley Lockyer. Creative Director: Nick Budden / nickb@rovemag.com
RANDOM
INFORMATION
A single conversation with a wise man is better than ten years of study. - Chinese Proverb
OMG just climbed Everest,
totally tweeting this!
Mount Everest has finally joined the
21st century. Thanks to Nepali firm
Ncell climbers can now enjoy full
3G coverage. Thanks to the eight
base stations positioned along the
trekking route to base camp you
can tweet while you abseil and
update your facebook status while
you belay. The 3G coverage was
put in place to serve climbers who
until now had to rely on archaic
voice only phones and although
untested, Ncell claims the coverage
will reach the summit. At least
now some of those facebook status
updates might be interesting.
Coolest race on earth
Antarctica is one of earth’s final
frontiers, a forbidding landscape of Ice
and snow: as of late it’s also become
somewhat of a destination for sports.
Races like the Antarctic Ice marathon
Creative Commons: flickr.com/photos/ilker/2494730890/
and the gruelling four deserts race
series have brought an increasing
number of tourists to the icy frontier.
Each December runners race against
the onset of frostbite as they brave
the slick, uneven terrain and frigid
temperatures during the course of
the event, plus one heck of a warm
up. The winning time last year was
4:46:50 and run in temperatures well
below freezing. If the conditions aren’t
enough to dissuade you perhaps the
9,900 euro price tag is, and no, that
doesn’t include the cost of getting to
the take off point in Punta Arena, Chile.
Round the world Tip
Tips are the subject of much confusion
Lax Portuguese drug laws
when travelling, although much lead to fewer deaths
appreciated in some areas, others find
the practice vulgar and offensive. Here Problem: drug abuse and related deaths
are some tipping customs in different are becoming a problem. Solution:
countries around the globe: decriminalize the use and possession
of marijuana, heroin, cocaine, LSD and
- Australia - 10% is generally expected in various other drugs. Portugal made a
bars, restaurants and taxis. bold decision when they decided to
- Italy - 20% is often a mandatory gratuity decriminalize many street drugs in
placed on restaurant bills. 2004 but the decision has paid off. A
- France - One or two Euros would be an recent study by the Cato institute in
acceptable tip here regardless of the Washington has revealed that Six years
total bill. down the road there are fewer deaths
- Greece - An equal tip is left for the from overdoses; the ambitious plan
waiter and for the runner, who brings is working. Under the current laws,
the bread and water. traffickers are still punished with jail
- Canada - Tipping between 10-15% is time, but users are put before a three
expected on most services. person panel who can recommend a
- Singapore - Tipping is unexpected and small fine, treatment or no punishment
not encouraged by the government. whatsoever, which has resulted in many
- Japan - Don’t do it, it can cause criminals getting the treatment they
embarrassment and loss of face. Never need to kick the habit instead of going
Tip. to jail. A new sport at the X-games perhaps?
Oranges, Really!? Some things go together perfectly, peanut butter and jelly, yin and yang, luggage
and scooters; wait what was that last one? The TITAN High-Roller, a new luggage
La tomatina, the popular Spanish food fight in Buñol, Spain has put food fights on concept proposes we mix the two to form a device that would make a transformer
the map. Each year thousands of participants flood the streets and hurl tomatoes jealous, and fit nicely in the overhead stowaway compartments. Designed with fun
at each other until the streets literally run red. In the Italian town if Ivrea they in mind, the high-roller features a special panel that slides out from the bottom
decided to go with a much harsher fruit - oranges. The celebration, aptly named the and a handlebar that raises in the front making it go from boring, everyday luggage
battle of oranges commemorates the beheading of a tyrant who claimed the right to to off the charts half scooter hybrid in mere seconds. The only downside would be
bed every village woman on her wedding night and involves ‘guards’ on carts facing that the extremely large business man who inevitably will sit beside you (yes the one
off against ‘the rebels’ on foot. Originally celebrated by throwing beans, the 19th whose stomach is dripping onto your lap) will now be sweaty as well due to all that
century upped the ante and started the business of launching fruits. Go in February scooting.
to the medieval town to see it firsthand, it’s rumoured that if you go the day after it
is coincidentally the world’s largest gathering of circular bruise sufferers. http://technabob.com/blog/2010/09/02/titan-scooter-suitecase-combo/
WHERE
THE
ROAD
HAS
TAKEN
ME
reflections on life & travel
with katie heckman
p. 14
Although in this day and age it is difficult to justify
the expense of travel especially considering the
environmental, economical, and social impacts that
are directly related to the act of travelling, I am
still a firm believer in the importance and value of
becoming culturally diverse through experience.
I was never one for book smarts and have found
that my greatest academic successes were often
the result of “hands- on opportunities”. As such
this experiential method of education has created
a great love and appreciation for the potential
learning experiences that come with travelling and
adventure (although not the initial justification for
my love to explore). I have always been accustomed
to travelling and took my first trip before I was even
out of the womb. Needless to say, as I get older my
travels have taken me to bigger and brighter places
but I can’t forget those first steps that enabled me to understand more about being a part of elite athletics. At the age of 13, I was already off to Toronto
myself than any textbook, teacher, parent, or friend ever could. for provincials in soccer, out to western Canada for a National tournament
and then over the next five years traveled to the better part of both Canada
Growing up in Ontario, Canada just outside of Ottawa in an upper-middle class and the United States. With these experiences in mind I would never dock
neighbourhood was definitely not all it was cracked up to be. I mean yes, on the potential that Canada and the United States hold as travel destinations.
paper, my family looked great. Stay at home mom, successful doctor dad, From the liberty bell and running up the stairs like Rocky in Philadelphia,
academic perfectionist sister, and me, the sporty one. But as many families to the beautiful architecture in Chicago, to the lush forests of Southern
would tell you the perfect house with the perfect door can only hide so much Maine, to the uniqueness of Providence Rhode Island, to the peaks of Banff
and ultimately these imperfections that my family possessed lead me to my and Lake Louise, and the sunsets of Brandon Manitoba, to the beaches of
athletic career and thus the many traveling opportunities that blossomed from Daytona Florida and seeing the devastation of 09/11 in New York only months
after the accident. I would never replace these memories for anything in the
world and would never feel the way
I do today about traveling if these
moments never occurred in my life
at such an influential age.
As I grew older and made my way
through the monotonous years of
high school I was blessed enough to
have a few family vacations that took
me south of the United States to
Cuba and Costa Rica. Although both
of these trips were not necessarily
my idea of “roughing it” they were
still amazing experiences in two
countries that presented a certain
amount of uniqueness. While in Cuba
I was able to make a trip to Havana
(the Capital) where the Cuban
culture was rich and thriving. The
Catholic influence was prominent
throughout the city as well as the
cigar industry and of course (one of
my favourite memories) of all, the
Ernest Hemingway hotspots. Cuba
is a very unique political country
with its authoritarianism mind set
ruling the decisions of the country.
It is easy to get caught up in the
resort atmosphere in such a place
but I would suggest to anyone that
goes to Cuba to venture outside
the boundaries of their resort and
explore the history and culture that
lies within the capital.
After two trips to Cuba with my
family, we decided to change our
winter holiday to something a bit
more off the beaten trail. I had
always had an interest in Costa
Rica because of its rich rainforests
and diverse habitat. I managed to
convince the rest of the family that
we needed to be more exotic and
take on a jungle infused country.
With great success we ended up at a
resort in Tambor. Once I stepped foot
off our International flight in San
Jose I knew we had made the right
decision. In order to get to Tambor
we needed to jump on another
flight that was a bit less luxurious
than the last. We climbed into an
eight seater airplane that took off
over the mountainous landscape
of the country. After having forty
minutes of “close calls” with the
various mountain peaks, we began
our landing. Now this in itself
was not or has never since been a
terrifying experience for me but on
this particular occasion the lack of
land that existed in view out the
airplane window gave me reason to
panic. Foot after foot we dropped
to what looked liked was about to
be water submergence, followed
by a crash onto the beach turned
into an unexpected smooth landing
onto a 100 metre landing strip
located only inches from the water
line. Needless to say I was glad to
have two feet back on the ground.
17
Costa Rica did not disappoint in the
wildlife department. Upon arrival,
we noticed that parrots were flying
overhead, howler monkeys were
swinging vigorously in the trees, and p.
iguanas crept along the ground toward us. All in all
the experience was filled with boogie boarding, zip
lining through the jungle, and enjoying the company
of the locals as well as other tourists.

So begins my need for a more independent

international travel experience. However, my
desire to experience the world needed to be put
on hold for four years to go to university and get
an education (which was a great four years might
I add). So the minute I got my diploma my next
thought was “I need a job so that I can make
enough money to travel” which is exactly what I
did. After a solid six months of work I finally had
enough money to pack up a very small amount of
clothing and head to almost the farthest location
from where I was currently residing; Thailand and
Laos. This was a big leap for me. Going from family
trips with comfortable accommodations to a sixty
litre pack, three pairs of underwear, and my own
savings tucked away in my money belt was a big
step. But this is ideally what I wanted. It was time
for me to move past luxury and head in a direction
that would open my eyes to culture, independence
and street smarts (the best kind).

Now there are about a thousand stories that I could

touch on here but I’d rather highlight some of
the things on my trip that truly changed the way I
think and feel about the experience of traveling;
transportation, bathrooms, and food. All simple
things that we take for granted on a daily basis in
the western world.
It was later on that day when the truck dropped us off in the middle of another
So let me set the stage. I am in the middle of Northern Laos with a few friends dirt road where a few of us were told that a bus would be by to pick us up and
coming out of the jungle on a less than desirable road in the back of an old truck take us to Luang PraBang. So myself, a good friend from home and two new
that was more often than not close to getting stuck in the eight foot puddles that friends that we had met on our jungle adventure all sat there and watched
lay in the middle of our path. Now this in itself is not the transportation struggle the rest of the group pull away in the truck in hopes that we were not being
that we encountered. led astray with the expectation that a bus was really going to come get us.
While we waited we watched farm
trucks with local kids on the back
pass by covered in dirt and smiles
wondering how a bus was going to
travel these same dirt roads.
Finally, after about an hour a big
bus pulls up and stops a few yards
away. We are told by a local that
this is our ride and we grab our
packs and head onto the bus. This
is no ordinary greyhound bus but
rather something that looked like
it was designed to ship prisoners to
and from the penitentiary (slight
exaggeration). So I hopped up
the steps of the side door, looked
right, then to the left and noticed
a small cluster of fellow foreigners
and migrated in their direction.
Taking a seat was a bit more then
challenging as the only empty space
happened to be right beside a tied
down motorbike in the middle of
the aisle (both a practical and safe
location).
As we settled in the bus pulled
away on what we did not know
would be the longest, most
eventful, unsafe journey of our trip.
We knew little of the roads in Laos
but later found out that the poor
country could not afford to make
their own highway so had to rely on
funds from Vietnam and Thailand to
make a dirt road with gigantic pot
holes that winded itself around the
edges of hundreds of cliffs. Now for
the people of Laos this road was one of
the greatest things to happen to their
country as access to other parts of the
country became much more efficient,
but for the average tourist this
road presented nothing but a raised
awareness of the safety issues and a
heightened pulse.
After enduring about three hours
of travel and beautiful scenery
(with approximately 20 near death
experiences with oncoming traffic)
the bus took a corner and suddenly
slammed on the breaks. Again, for
travellers this seemed rather unusual
but for all the locals on the bus this
was apparently a common occurrence
as every single one of them leaped
from their seats to take a look out the
window. As tourists, we decided to
follow their lead and to our dismay saw
a motorcyclists lifeless body wrapped
around a wooden barrier pole about
10 yards away from his bike. My raw
instincts overcame me and I found
myself running out of the bus to the
aid of this poor young man. The locals
surrounded him and did everything that
a person should not do in this situation
including moving the body, poking and
prying.
An English traveller and I took the
lead and managed to signal everyone
to step away from the body. My first
aid skills kicked in and I began taking
his pulse, checking for spinal injuries,
putting pressure on his open wounds
 23
p.

and placing him in the recovery
position (once we established his
back was not broken). I wish at this
point in my story I could give some
miraculous, positive outcome but
unfortunately Laos does not have
ambulances, or any real kind of
emergency medical aid, therefore
the limp body of the injured man
ended up underneath the bus with
our luggage and the last we saw
of him was at the next bus station
where he was carted off in a tuk
tuk to god only knows where. Every
time I am stuck in a traffic jam
because of construction back here
in Canada I think twice about my
reaction and remember how great it
is to have paved roads!
One of the other major differences
that I encountered in my travels
was bathrooms. Yes, that’s right I
am about to talk about using the
toilet! I don’t think I even thought
about what to expect for bathrooms
before leaving on my adventure
but as a female you definitely think
about it the minute you have your
first encounter. Now I must say I
wasn’t exactly expecting a world
of luxury in Thailand and Laos but
little did I know that toilet paper,
toilets and running water were hard
to find. My most memorable toilet
experience definitely took place on
the train from Bangkok Thailand to
Chiang Mai. We soon found out upon
settling in our bunk beds for the
24
p.
15 hour journey that the bathroom
consisted of a hole in the metal
floor of the train and a bar that was
attached to the side of the train that
you could hang onto in case of “train
turbulence”. When looking into the
hole (expecting to see some sort of
sewage system) I realized that there
was nothing but train tracks below.
No need to explain this further, but as
a female who appreciates the simple
sanitary things in western living was
definitely thrown for a loop! I must
admit though that by the end of the
trip I was more than comfortable
with “popping a squat” just about
anywhere.
Lastly, but most definitely not the and herbs that are used in the rich and flavourful curries of Thailand at an
least was all the food experiences. organic farm.
I love food and have been blessed
throughout my life to have had Taking a cooking class in any place that I travel will now be a mandatory
many different kinds of food but undertaking.
there is really nothing better than
experiencing the food of a particular I learnt not only how to make the food but also where the ingredients come
culture while submerged in the from and how they are grown. Cooking is an amazing experience and has
country itself. Some of my most so much more value than simply making food. It can be a soulful, educated
memorable travel moments involved experience that is different all over the world. Food to me will never just be a
food. A few of my favourite food means of survival but rather a social, tasteful, educative experience.
moments were eating Pad Thai on the
busy streets of Bangkok, trying fried This is the start of my travel life and I know that there will be years more of
fish, dumplings and noodle soups in memories and fascinating experiences. I can only be thankful that I was raised
the alleyways of Luang PraBang Laos, in a way that embraces travel and all of its wonders. I know that my journey
and learning all about the fresh spices will be on going and I look forward to my next adventure.
BOLIVIAN
SALT FLATS
PHOTOSET BY
AMY FISHER
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PHOTOSET BY AMY FISHER 29
p.
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PHOTOSET BY AMY FISHER 31
p.
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PHOTOSET BY AMY FISHER 33
p.
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PHOTOSET BY AMY FISHER 35
p.
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PHOTOSET BY AMY FISHER 37
p.
HOW NOT TO GET
SLAPPED OR SLAP
OTHERS IN SOUTH
KOREA!
A lesson plan about
avoiding the ever
awkward social
faux-pas, by English
teacher Ashley
Lockyer.

p. 38
 “And then, she slapped me across the face!”

When you enter a new culture you’re bound to meet the

dreaded faux pas: acts that translate negatively to people in
that country. This isn’t a one way street where wily foreigners
wreak havoc on the social norms of the culture they are
visiting; this is a two-way blind corner, where unsuspecting
foreigners can be t-boned by awkward moments as well.
Believe me, I know. Spend a year in Korea and you will too.

A group of us spent a year teaching in South Korea, causing

and becoming victims of many collisions with Korean culture.
In all cases, no one was right or wrong, and we came home
fresh with “OMG WTF?!?” stories for your enjoyment.
Consider them your crash course in Korean culture, straight
from a teacher’s mouth no less.

Lesson one: The question “Why?”

My boyfriend said it best: “Take that question, and put it

in your passport until you leave.” Sound advice, because In
Korea ‘Why” is strangely offensive and gets you nowhere.

Explanation: when someone with more experience than

you (relative to their perspective) tells you something, you
are obliged to accept it as absolute fact. This is especially
apparent in the work environment, where instead of seeing
it as the western need for clarification, it’s seen as the
questioning of someone’s motives or character. The kids
I taught used it in place of “how could you?” - “Aww
homework? Teacher whyyyyy?”

Lesson two: No means no!

Another common work faux pas most foreigners make

in Korea is saying no. Not only is it offensive, like little

40
Johnny refusing to clean his room, it too questions
authority. Say no to no. I was so confused for months at
work. Longer term teachers (higher up in their minds)
p. would try to dump their work on me, but saying ‘no’
never worked. I tried different pitches, making a song

42
p.
of it, even dancing a “no” samba, yet they just smiled
awkwardly, broke eye-contact, and asked again “Will you
do this crap-ton of work that’s not yours?” Again, I tried
“no” which was almost always followed by them saying
“OK, I’ll leave it here” and dashing out the door.
Explanation: according to my Korean friends, in a work
environment you always accept work from higher-ups.
It’s disgraceful and childish to say “no,” regardless of the
circumstance. It is, however, ok to accept work and just
not do it. This sentence alone will explain all you need to
know about Korean businesses.
Lesson Three: smoking is hazardous to your health
Here’s a lighter tale, of my lady friend being backhanded
by a grandmother. Outside of a department store,
midday, lovely weather, my friend lit up her smoke
to enjoy all of its cancerous marvels. She paused and
Ajjimas: scary enough to be a
popular Halloween costume
contemplated if she liked Coke or
Pepsi best, and then it happened. A
smack, worthy of a KAPOW or SHAZAM,
nearly knocked her over. Still dizzy,
my friend looked over in horror at the
grandmother glaring at her.
Explanation: women who smoke
outside are associated with
prostitutes. Women do smoke there,
but there are designated areas
in coffee shops where it is more
acceptable. Sadly, anywhere else, you
deserve the pimp-hand.
Lesson Four: Chicken or beef?
Here’s a strange faux pas: being
vegetarian. Now, Buddhism has
influence over most of Asia, Korea
included. However, Korean Buddhists
eat meat. Even after communicating
clearly, in Korean “no meat, I’m
vegetarian” or “meat WILL kill me and
leave me bleeding on your floor” my
veg-friends were always served some
meat.
Explanation: after the Korean War,
Korea became very wealthy very fast.
Before then, meat was like gold, and
many people never ate it. Now it’s as
if they’re trying to catch up on their
consumption. Everyone eats meat
because they have it - one should be
grateful. When you say “I don’t eat
meat” they assume you mean “only
a little please, I’m on a diet” or “I
 only don’t eat pig, so fish, chicken, or
anything else is OK.” Koreans aren’t
big fans of picky eaters of any kind,
they think you should appreciate the
food you’re given.
Lesson Five: hands to yourself
Grandma!
Now as a very visibly different person
living in Korea, one would expect some
leniency or at least guidance from
locals into the Korean lifestyle: not
so much. Learning only comes from
experiencing the awkward moments
here, so things will happen to you
long before they are explained. Just
as foreigners offend Koreans without
intention, some westerns often find
themselves infuriated and not knowing
how it happened.
The first thing Koreans do that doesn’t
translate well with westerners is
pushing. Now before you say “suck it
up, it’s crazy overpopulated, there’s
bound to be pushing,” hear me out.
This is two-handed, full contact,
you’re-in-my-way shoving. Bumping
in a crowd always happens, but on
a sidewalk with only two people,
prepare for a good full-contact round
of rugby. To foreigners this comes off
in an aggressive “I want to fight you”
kind of way. In Korea though, it simply
means “You were in my way, so I
moved you.”
This act is mostly perpetrated by the
even if you knew why, would it make a difference?
dreaded ajjimas, a name once used
to describe a familiar old married
woman, has now become the word
used to describe middle-aged women
who aren’t afraid of bustin’ a hip to
bust your ass. Disregarding their love
of pushing, pinching, and screaming at
you for no reason, these women are
bold fighters strong in body and mind.
My friends were once being hassled
by an irate drunken man outside a
corner store. With a roll of her eyes,
an ajjima came out, picked up a
plastic chair over her head, and began
beating the man with it: all without
losing her dentures.
Explanation: This older generation
of Korean women have lived through
the tragedy and fighting of war. They
became hardened warriors, fighting
just for survival for a long period of
time. These women are the feistiest
I’ve ever come across.
Lesson Six: Nice to meet you, what’s
your annual salary?
Here’s another fun faux pas Koreans
make when meeting foreigners: asking
for way too much information. When
meeting new people for the first time,
I was shocked at what they wanted
to know about me. “Where do you
live (exactly)?” “How much money do
you make?” “How many children will
you and your boyfriend have?” “Are
you getting married soon?” Now, my
boyfriend and I have been together for
a long time, so these questions were
hilarious. For a new couple though -
awkward.

Explanation: koreans need to be

able to classify you in their minds,
to determine compatibility and your
position relative to them, so they
know how to treat you. A lot of the
younger generation don’t think of
it this way, but are just used to the
normal social questions of their
culture.

Lesson Seven: Claustrophobic

Awkwardness

Here are two fun ones together:

personal space and awkward
silences. These two very important
western social laws don’t exist in
Korean society. Personal space is so
important in our culture that studies
have been able to show that getting
too close to a stranger can quickly
erupt into violence. In Korea, you’re
lucky if when someone stands beside
you, they’re not touching you.

Explanation: Korea is a small country

with a big population. Overcrowding

47
is the norm here, so rules of personal
space would create sidewalk wars.
As for awkward silences, this is
a special social difference. Many
times Koreans would come and
p.
talk to me, finish, and just stand
there, silent. I would grow more
and more awkward, attempt to make
conversation, give a hundred social cues
I wasn’t comfortable, and they would be
standing there contented.
Explanation: I don’t know if there really
is one, other than Koreans don’t think
silence is uncomfortable, kind of how
westerners feel among close friends.
Lesson Eight: I didn’t know my face
needed saving
Here is a pervasive cultural
difference between westerners and
Asians from all eastern countries:
the dreaded “saving face.” Much as
it sounds, face-saving is a cultural
practice that involves making sure
a person who does something wrong
doesn’t look bad. On the contrary, this
one can really make foreigners feel
very negatively towards the person
saving their face.
For instance, our schedules at work
put an “R” beside classes we taught
reading and a “W” beside class we
taught writing: it made sense. One day,
a coworker of mine was pulled aside
“Jack, you’re supposed to be teaching
writing to this class, and you’ve been
teaching reading.” ‘Jack’ then pulled
out the schedule to show her it was
her scheduling mistake, at which point
saving face came into play. My boss
simply replied “Oh Jack, ‘R’ stands for
writing with this class.” As Jack tried to explain
the ridiculousness of her statement, another
manager, desperate to save my boss’ face, cut
him off: “Jack, I can see how’d you’d get that
confused.” Jack knew they were both lying and
worse passing the blame onto him. He was ready
to schedule himself a flight out of there.

Explanation: in eastern Asia, saving-face is a

means to prevent embarrassment, which is an
almost unbearable emotion there. People at the
top of the hierarchy need to do this in order
to maintain others confidence. Lying or passing
blame often occurs, but to people in that culture
it’s viewed neutrally. Everyone knows who was
wrong, so why point it out, especially to someone
of higher respect? To westerners though, when
someone blatantly lies to your face and then
passes their blame forward, that calls for a
beating, and often trust is highly damaged.

Lesson Nine: Getting down to work.

Another workplace difference for foreigners

living in Korea is the standard “no news is good
news” treatment. Not to say this never happens
in western culture, but it is much less frequent.
At my work, my boss would only ever tell me
all the things, petty or important, I was doing Cultural rules aren't the
wrong. Some days it seemed that she would only things that translate
spend hours trying to find anything to complain poorly sometimes

51
to me about. One day she even told me my
number “6” didn’t look enough like a “6.” Truly,
I thought I was on the verge of a pink-slip as I
hadn’t heard anything good about my work, um,
ever! Eventually I confided in my manager and
p.
she said I was a good teacher and that she just
never thought to say anything if I was doing well.
Sadly, she never thought of it again
after that either.
Explanation: the difference here
between the corporate no-news
treatment in western business
and here is that, in Korea, bosses
often feel they have the task of
maintaining the respect (or fear) of
their employees. If you don’t think
you’re close to being fired, your boss
sucks.
Lesson ten: Potty Mouths
Let’s end on a high-note of the
hilarity of teaching Korean children
English: swearing. These kids use
more English curse words than they
use, well, English! As a teacher, it’s
incredibly frustrating when 10 year
olds are dropping F-bombs and when
you kick them out, the managers pull
you aside to explain why it’s OK.
Explanation: Korean curse words
don’t have the same roughness
as English ones. They just aren’t
as bad-ass. Actually, they are
commonly used between friends
and show bonding. Korean parents,
who demand respect, don’t hear
them, but if little Joe calls Annie
a biznitch, what’s a word among
friends? Trying to teach kids, who
use “bad words” every day that they
can’t use them in English is almost
impossible.
One kid came back from a trip to
the USA where he had got his whole
family kicked out of the cab for giving
the middle-finger to the cabbie. He
was confused, “but teacher I only
“F*cked him,” he said in front of the
class. “Well Johnny,” I replied, “I
hope that’s not true.”
As you can see, understanding what
day-to-day actions can cause an old
woman to beat you or a foreigner to
spontaneously combust are important
for both the traveler and the
inhabitants of the country you visit.
Understanding is a virtue in a world
of differences, where even a small
gesture can get you kicked out of a
cab or a simple “why?” can serve up
a pink-slip. Read up before you leave,
but count on sometimes shouting,
in the immortal words of my good
53
friend, “Is this real life? Did that Don't say
really just happen?!” "no" or they'll
taekwon-do!
p.
WHY HAVEN’T I
HEARD OF...
Vaing Vieng, Laos.
Drugs, drinking and inner tubes,
northern Laos has them all. Midway
between the capital Vientienne and
the world famous French colony of
Luang Prabang lies a small village
on a small river in a small scenic
valley which is coincidentally (or is
it ironically?) home of some of the
biggest parties in Asia: Vaing Vieng.
Bars, lounges and restaurants offer
lay down seating, greasy food and
non-stop re-runs of all your favourite
shows. You practically pick the
location based on what shows they
specialize in: “no, I think I would
rather eat at the Simpsons place,
the Family guy bar didn’t have good
food and the Friends restaurant was
packed.” At this point you may be
asking yourself, who in their right
mind are they trying to attract with
this type of dining experience, hung
over backpackers?
Ding Ding Ding, tell them what they’ve
won Johnny!
It’s as if god himself created a town
specifically catered to those with -
and those striving to get - hangovers.
Nothing seems to operate before noon,
bottles of tiger whiskey retail for two
dollars American and of course you
can catch re-runs of all your favourite
shows while you sit on a makeshift
couch all day.
Make no mistake that these
establishments are doing just fine.
They are more so the omega to the
alpha in this case, or to be more
concise, the result of the main
attraction instead of being the main
attraction themselves. These avant
garde eateries are made possible by the
glorious pastime of river tubing.
That’s right, for a few dollars you get
an inner tube and a ride a few miles
upriver, this is no lazy day on the
river though, it is Hunter S. Thompson
meets Jacques Cousteau.
I had been tubing before in North
America and it was dandy; friends,
fun and sun...as well as a few beers
that may have been snuck in there as
well. Vaing Vieng however, took this
relaxing afternoon pastime and gave it
a rock star makeover.
We left via tuk tuk for the launch
point twenty minutes from town down
a muddy road at ten in the morning.
The limestone monoliths and sheer
mountains were an inspiring backdrop
to what was perhaps the strangest pub
crawl I have ever been on.
The launch pad was little more than
a sandy shore on the swollen river.
The previous day’s flooding left the
water a muddy brown minefield of
half submerged trees and rapids.
Caution was the name of the game
though because the waters were much
higher than normal, often it took
two hours to float the course back
to town, for us it would take hardly
twenty minutes. Fearing nothing, or
perhaps not realizing the dangers of
mixing alcohol and swimming, my
fellow aspiring tubists and I trusted in
the inner tubes and set forth on the
daunting journey for the first bar.
Exactly ten seconds later, we arrived
as soon as we got there the party
was bumping. Spring break in Cancun
bumping!
I jumped into the fray of swaying
bodies in the dance pit, swung from
the thirty foot high trapeze into
the chocolate hued river, watched
some mud wrestling of the female
persuasion and had a beverage or two
on the bamboo patio. I checked my
watch, half an hour had passed.
Everyone was concerned because
someone had supposedly drowned the
day before in the river; it was the
conversation of choice. Don’t worry
though, I spent a week ‘researching’
this rumour on the river and it turns
out people say it every day.
We were going at such a pace riding
our tubes on the river that the bars
had to employ local children to throw
ropes out to reel us in, lest we float
past without being able to drop a
few dollars at their bar. An army
of Laotian boys fishing for tourists
greeted us at bar number two: they
were hauling westerners in faster
than a sale at Wal-Mart would.
The unlucky travellers missed the
lifeline thrown to them and were
doomed to show up early at the next
bar and wait until the hordes tired
of their current location and decided
to catch up. occasionally one of the
small boys would jump into the river
and pursue them aggressively, if
 “LAOTIAN BOYS FISHING
FOR TOURISTS GREETED US
AT BAR NUMBER TWO: THEY
WERE HAULING WESTERNERS
IN FASTER THAN A SALE AT
WAL-MART WOULD”

59
p.
they caught up they would swim them
to shore down river and lead them
back to the bar through the woods; I
have never felt someone wanted my
patronage more or would go to such
a length to get it (marketing students
take note).
Every bar had a gimmick, two large
zip lines were strung over a straight
section of the river at this one: if you
hung on till the end you would be
stopped suddenly and do a full back
flip just from the momentum. The so
called “big bar” complete with soccer
pitch, high dive and volleyball court as
well as a slide in progress. The fourth
bar had dual swings, the fifth bar was
up high on stilts, the sixth bar had a
deck that hung over the river and the
last bar had a large cliff swing. Every
niche was filled.
As I was carried quickly down river
chatting with an Irishman I was
informed that many varieties of
drugs were also available at these
bars. If you asked for the happy
menu everything from mushrooms
to opium was on hand and ready for
consumption: explaining both what all
those little plastic baggies I kept seeing
were full of and why my friend felt
‘funny’ after sharing a milkshake with
a stranger.
As night time approached, the drug
fuelled party raged on. The enormous
trapeze that was also a fixture at the
sixth bar was incredible fun while
drunk: and even more so while naked
(let’s just say I lost a bet, it’s easier
that way). Not wanting to return
home, the number of tubists was
climbing by the minute. Normally the
load was dispersed by half the crowd
setting sail for the last bar, but many
decided to stay due to the closure
of the seventh bar, the floods had
damaged it. More and more tubists
arrived until there was standing room
only.
It truly was a tropical paradise, the
sun was setting and lending the
immense cliff faces a deep purple
hue, the tropical jungle and rice
paddies harmoniously melted into the
dark of night and we were enjoying
it all from the balcony of a the rivers
most popular dance club. I sat on
the beach, being entertained by
the swooping jumps of the trapeze,
sipping my beer and generally
enjoying being too drunk to stand.
The bamboo structure seemed so
beautiful and vibrant that I just
couldn’t look away from it. I kept
counting people entering the bar, like
a line of ants to the nest they were
entering with ferocious speed. I was
enjoying life and for some reason felt
at one with the universe at that point,
this was either nirvana I had entered
or I had mistaken my drink for one of
the happy variety.
The creaking and groaning of the
bamboo became apparent to me even in
my inebriated state. People on the beach
were growing cautious of the strength of the
structure. Our concerns were justified when
one section of the crowd started jumping
furiously to the music. At first it was a small
swaying sensation, and then a small cracking
noise and all of a sudden two dozen people
were in the river. Part of the deck had given
way and in true Laotian fashion an army of
children took to the river and hauled the
drunks to shore, no safety tape was put up, no
sign of caution erected: the people working
there acted as if it was business as usual.

Well after dark, and a few hours of sitting

on the shoreline, my ziplock money bag
was empty of Kip and my belly was full of
beer. It was finally time to go home. I sat in
my tube and drifted back into town barely
able to move. I remember having a brief
conversation with a girl from Perth, Australia
about how when we grew up we would have
been upside down to each other - a testament
to my mental state at that point. Someone,
likely another child, helped me out of my
tube and sent me on my way; I believe I even
entertained an offer for a job at a local bar
that evening.

But the next morning was a different story.

the bamboo
bar, just before
I felt awful...Worse than awful.
collapse

62
I felt the ravages of a brutal hangover in the
sticky heat of my fanless room.
I spent the next morning at one of those great
restaurants I mentioned earlier: For some
reason I bet they are still doing fine these
p.
days.
LOCAL
KNOWLEDGE
Talking rugby, beach life and sports with Auckland, New Zealand native Jeffrey Lee.

Quick Jeffrey, tell me something about Auckland nobody would know.

*Laughs* Let’s see, I think it’s one of the world’s largest cities.

*Me staring at him wondering if he knows there are just over a million people
there*

Not population, by size... well land area I guess. The city is huge and one of
the biggest in the world by area. The sprawl is a big problem in Auckland.

I see, and why don’t we let our readers know what brought you to New Zealand
in the first place?

I was born here, and liked it so much I stayed. There is a bit of a drain going on
though, a lot of young people are moving to Australia these days, better money,
more jobs. I would like to see more people stay because New Zealand is under
rated in this part of the world, everyone seems to go to Australia.

I’ll take your word for it. Before we get into the hard stuff though, I did a little
research before the interview (thank you Wikipedia) and it seems Auckland is
LOCAL
KNOWLEDGE AUCKLAND, NZ
called the city of sails, why?

Oh! That’s an easy one, everyone sails.

Everyone?

Yes, everyone and their dog has a boat or a slip down at the marina; it’s
something stupid like one in four families has a yacht. The conditions are just
really good for sailing and we all love to go outside and enjoy it. There are
probably a hundred yacht clubs in Auckland alone and I think there might be
the largest one in the world too.

Wikipedia is saying it’s the largest in the southern hemisphere, don’t you love
the internet allowing me to call you out on facts about your own city?

Well you know what I mean, sailing is very popular here. That’s the point I
am trying to get across. I’d say it might be the third most popular sport after
rugby and cricket. We’ve taken a few America’s cup races. We’re sort of mad
for all sports here really.

Alright, how about a new tack for this question then, what do you call
someone from Auckland? An Aucklander? An Aucklandite?

Well if you’re from Auckland, you are called an Aucklander, but we are called
a lot of things. On the south island they often refer to us as J.A.F.A.’s, there’s
something Wikipedia can’t tell you.

Oh really? Hold on, how do you spell that? J-A-F-A? * starts looking it up*

*Laughs* shut up, it stands for Just Another F*cking Aucklander bro. Kinda
crude, but there are comparatively a lot of people from Auckland in New
Zealand and we take the piss for that.

You take the piss huh? Gross, could you perhaps tell our readers where you
take it?

Ugh, *sighs* you never stop joking do you?

No note really, Ahem, let’s delve a little deeper into the city I guess, if you
had only one day to spend in Auckland what would you do?

Finally a good question, I would probably spend it outside. I live in Long bay,
which is a suburb, so if I took you around we’d go downtown so you could see
 “I WAS BORN HERE,
AND LIKED IT SO MUCH
I STAYED”

Auckland From The Water. Photo: Creative Commons flickr.com/photos/eguidetravel/2922259123/

 the Sky tower, tourists love that thing. Then we’d boogie
out to Piha for the day. It’s a great beach and has this
huge rock, lion rock, in the middle of the beach you can
climb up, it’s really awesome and there is great surfing
and boogie boarding. It’s super popular in the summer,
real sweet! We’d have a barbeque with some fresh
prawns, a few burgers done right- you guys always skip
the beetroot and egg on em.

Egg on a burger?

Yessssss, there’s nothing better than fried egg and some

beetroot on there, it’s sweet as! It beats the hell out of
tomato sauce.

You mean ketchup?

Whatever it’s called. Anyways, after the beach, we

could head home and head to the discos in Takapuna,
downtown’s one hell of a cab ride for me. But if you
really wanted a good time, we would go into K’ road,
there are millions of bars there. Or for something lower
key we could go to Kilala down in Mission bay for a few
rounds of karaoke, you might say my Louis Armstrong
makes me a local legend there.

If it was during rugby season we could always catch a

match if there’s one on, Ruggers (rugby) is sort of our
national past time, we could catch the super 14’s but
you’ve gotta see the all blacks if you can. It would be

70
hard to get a ticket but bro, you see them doing the
Haka, it’s really something special. Eden park is a great
place to watch games. Everyone wears their all-blacks
p. jerseys and the place is absolutely humming. The (rugby)
World Cup is here next September and it is going to be
unbelievable.

Rugby and the beach, not a bad day at all.
Well there’s more than that to do if you had more time. There’s a bungee
platform on the Auckland Bridge which is pretty popular with tourists and the
coast to coast walk is really nice as well.
Wouldn’t that take a while?
No, only a few hours, Auckland is on an isthmus, it’s really narrow and you can
walk from the Tasman (sea) side to the Pacific side in a few hours, it takes you
through the downtown, there are informative signs, and a bunch of other sites
to see along the way, pretty nifty. *laughs*
You laugh a lot, is Auckland a happy city?
It’s an awesome place to live. Amazing atmosphere, lots of sun and everyone
really enjoys being active and outside.
p. 72
What would you say to our readers to convince them to come?
It’s better than OZ, and our beer is way better too, plus the girls are prettier
and the tap water tastes like candy, so come here!
Does the tap water really taste like candy?
*laughs* Well no, I got carried away a bit there, but I think if you come and
enjoy just a pint or two of Steinlager you would probably be convinced to
stay. Especially on Fridays, we often have a few drinks during lunch at work
and no work really gets done in the afternoon anywhere. It’s like having a long
weekend every week.
Now you’re talking, where do I sign up?
Why am I not surprised that it was that comment that got you interested?
REVIEWS
“On The Road” by Jack Kerouac

On a crisp, clear night on the back of a flatbed truck, a drunken Sal Paradise
watches the stars as he whizzes toward Denver- he has never felt more
complete. His journey started with 50 dollars and a promise from a friend of a
job on a ship in the pacific. Enticed by the offer, he sets off for the west coast
and, typical of all the backpackers I know, blows half of his money within the
first day’s journey from New York to Chicago. Not a good start financially, but
a terrific start if you are looking to write one of the finest examples of travel
writing the world has ever seen.

Written in 1951 in three weeks on one continuous scroll of paper, On the Road

Photo: Creative Commons flickr.com/photos/earlycj5/3866943174/

chronicles the beat generation of mid century America in all its gritty glory
and still rings true to travellers today. He hitchhikes, meets a zany cast of
characters, works as farm labour, and faces the trials of love on the road.
Perhaps I relate well to the novel because of my own experiences hitchhiking
and working on farms to pay my way (mind you, I thought it was far from the
paradise he described) but I think all travelers can share the overpowering rush
you get from throwing caution into the wind and following your heart down a
path you never thought you would.

This story is based on true events, which is good, because some of the
situations that Sal (Kerouac) finds himself in are simply too bizarre to make
up. My three personal favourite moments: Sal receiving an offer to have sex
with his friend’s wife while he watches, his friend dean going on a Grand Theft
Auto style carjacking binge, and he and three others driving naked down the
highway in Texas.

Sigh, what happens on the road, stays on the road, unless you write a famous
book about it I guess.
Although slow to start, it quickly turns into travel porn; nothing has ever
made me lust for an adventure as strongly as this book. A cross country
journey for a job becomes a years-long saga that that see’s Sal and his
counterpart Dean pinball from New York to San Francisco and finally to
Mexico City. And aside from the debauchery, this story has heart as well. I’ll
divulge one particularly touching moment with you, Sal, on top of a mountain
in Mexico sees a local village girl and speculates that she may never see
another part of the world than the small mountain she calls home. If this
were a movie Sal, likely being played by Shia Lebeouf, would look forlornly
off into the setting sun, a montage of memories playing with sad music as
he contemplates his lifestyle and the man it has sculpted him into. It’s not
a movie though because if that were the case I would have watched the film
and reviewed it instead (reading is so last year) and as such, he basically just
keeps on truckin, wasting no more than a sentence or two on the tear jerking
stuff.

Sentimental moment: check! Now what was I saying about debauchery?

The details like the fact that Sal eats almost nothing but apple pie due to it
being cheap and filling (the rice rule I call it), the fact that he shamelessly
pursues and beds an unhealthy amount of women in a variety of fun places
and the fact that he is incredibly awkward when trying to score drugs all
gave me that oh-so-nice, warm cup of soup on a cold day feeling you get
when you just straight up understand someone on a deep, deep level.

The side trip to Mexico, which is coincidentally the crescendo of the novel
also hit a high note with me. In the fading pages of the novel Kerouac is thigh
deep in teenage prostitutes and on a two day bender so epic he could likely
have out-drank the entire cast of The Jersey Shore.

There is a lesson to all this though; amidst the shocking events and uproar
you see the thinking of a new generation emerging. Kerouac was searching
for a simpler life, he was forgoing possessions for experiences and was
looking for that same thing every traveler is: where the road will lead them.
Dean, however, was clearly just looking for tail, going through four wives and
fathering three children in the three year span of the novel. There’s one in
every bunch.
TRAVELLER
PROFILE ...andrew caley

Bio /
I am a 23-year-old Canadian journalism student and I have recently come back
from my first backpacking adventure in South America. I love sports, reading,
and now travelling.

Where are you from /

Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada.

Favorite Travel Memory /

This was my first trip so I loved everything, the beaches, the mountains, the
deserts, the culture and most of all the people.

Best tip for picking up on the road /

Be yourself, learn some suave Spanish phrases and in some cases a well placed

ANDREW CALEY
moustache doesn’t hurt.
TRAVELLER
What do you look for in a hostel / PROFILE
Try to find a hostel with good common areas, you'll meet more people that
way...oh, and a bar.

Countries visited /
Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia.
Craziest travel memory /
Traveling to Machu Picchu by car just days after torrential rain, which included
landslides, crossing a river in a basket-and-pulley system, and about 10 more
hours of walking than we were told... much like in your last issue.

Worst bus ride /

Haha there are more than a few to choose from, but the worst has got to be
when two of my friends and I journeyed from Quito to Canoa, Ecuador.
The first thing I noticed when I got on the bus was that it was leaking directly
above me and my friend in the row across from me. To go along with the
leaks there was no A/C, which wouldn’t have too bad if the windows had
opened. Then some locals with young babies sat down next to us…babies with
what smelled like very full diapers. Anyone who has travelled by bus in South
America know that they love to play the most annoying salsa type music all
through the night and this bus was no different.

To top this all off the smelly, cramped, loud, sauna of a bus arrived at our
stop at 4:30 in the morning. My friend and I gave each other a quick shake of
the head and stayed on the bus. After a short spat with the money collector
which ended with us handing over another $5 US and we got off at the next
“legitimate” bus station where we were able to catch a bus to our destination,
we didn’t change locations for almost three weeks after that.

Travel is _______ /
Something everyone should try.

Next trip /
Thailand in 2012, school until then.

I would not leave home without /

A good hoodie and some gravol.

The thing I miss most about the road /

Being with the great friends I made along the way. Shout-outs to Sam, Gordo,
Andy, and Billy. You guys rock.

What made me want to travel in the first place /

I’ve always wanted to travel since I was young and with the help of a friend to
get me out the door I never looked back.
THANKS
FOR
READING
next issue coming
wednesday dec. 1 st

on rovemag.com