Once, when I was a youth group leader at my church, one of the kids asked me why I didn't have a Jesus fish symbol or anything else, that would let people know that I'm a Christian, on my car.
My answer: I don't want people to know that I'm a Christian when I'm stuck behind one of those rolling road blocks in which some $%@$%@#^@ driver insists on driving 10 mph under the speed limit. It's not a pretty site when road rage kicks in.
I'm a much mellow driver now. One event relieved me of my road rage:
I was driving on one of those winding canyon roads east of L.A. at what I thought was the fastest safe speed for that road when a motorcyclist behind me became unsatisfied with my speed and attempted to pass me several times. Each time oncoming traffic appeared from around a bend in the road. Finally he (or she, I couldn't tell with the motorcycle wear) passed me. Fifteen minutes later, the traffic came to a halt. As I passed the accident site, I saw the reason for the delay in traffic. The motorcyclist, who had earlier passed me, drove through (yes, you read correctly: drove through) a tractor trailer rig and fell into the canyon.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, November 26, 2007
I'm thankful that I'm not rotting away in a Kyrgyz prison.
What I am thankful to God for: I'm thankful that I'm not rotting away in a Kyrgyz prison.
That's sort of a running joke for Thanksgiving ever since I returned home from Kyrgyzstan.
For those of you who haven't heard the story, I was arrested for illegal drug trafficking in Bishkek at the end of my summer in Kyrgyzstan. I had no illegal drug, of course, much less was I trafficking anything.
Basically, this crooked cop was trying to shake me down for money. Evidently, Americans are easy mark for this sort of scam.
Between each question concerning drugs, like "Where are you hiding the drug?", he would ask, "How much money do you have?" He was doing this while we were encircled by half a dozen other cops.
At one point, I decided to push pass the smallest guys and walk away. Amazingly, none of them tried to stop me.
But when I got to the curve where all the taxis were lined up, none of the drivers, with the exception of one, were willing to open their cab door. They had been watching the whole episode transpire and, with the exception of that one driver, nobody wanted to be involved.
When we were driving off, I asked the driver why he was willing to pick me up.
He said, "I saw what happened. God is with you."
I was thinking the same but I was doubtful that anyone would have recognized it as such much less an Uzbek Muslim man. (Later on in our conversation, I found out that he's Uzbek.)
That's sort of a running joke for Thanksgiving ever since I returned home from Kyrgyzstan.
For those of you who haven't heard the story, I was arrested for illegal drug trafficking in Bishkek at the end of my summer in Kyrgyzstan. I had no illegal drug, of course, much less was I trafficking anything.
Basically, this crooked cop was trying to shake me down for money. Evidently, Americans are easy mark for this sort of scam.
Between each question concerning drugs, like "Where are you hiding the drug?", he would ask, "How much money do you have?" He was doing this while we were encircled by half a dozen other cops.
At one point, I decided to push pass the smallest guys and walk away. Amazingly, none of them tried to stop me.
But when I got to the curve where all the taxis were lined up, none of the drivers, with the exception of one, were willing to open their cab door. They had been watching the whole episode transpire and, with the exception of that one driver, nobody wanted to be involved.
When we were driving off, I asked the driver why he was willing to pick me up.
He said, "I saw what happened. God is with you."
I was thinking the same but I was doubtful that anyone would have recognized it as such much less an Uzbek Muslim man. (Later on in our conversation, I found out that he's Uzbek.)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Top 10 things that I've learned after I started traveling abroad
10. Coca Cola is an acquired taste.
I've been drinking Coke for as long as I can remember. I love the way its sweetness and fizzle dance on my tongue and slide down to the back of my mouth. Why would anyone not like drinking Coca Cola?
The first time I offered the drink to someone who has never drank it, he practically coughed it back out. That expression on his face was unmistakably saying, "What is this $@#& that you gave me to drink."
9. Hot dog is not an American food
Several countries have indigenous sausages that looks and tastes exactly like hot dogs and claimed to have invented it. Considering that they had been eating them for more than five hundred years, it is safe to say that hot dogs were not invented in America.
8. Visa, MasterCard, and American Express Credit Card are not "Accepted Everywhere You Want to Be".
A blank look from a cashier at a Bishkek department store says it all.
7. Carry a football (soccer ball), and you'd make friends.
No explanation needed.
6. Extending the index finger and the middle finger is not universally interpreted as "PEACE".
There's nothing, like facing an angry mob after doing so at the end of a football (soccer) match, to teach you not to do it.
5. Maintaining a beard is not easier than a clean shave
I've always shaved because, at fourteen, the patchy fuzz on my face looked stupid. However, after becoming an adult, the facial hair that I had to shave is much more evenly distributed. So when I started traveling, I thought I'd save some time by growing a beard and forgoing shaving in the morning. The beard came out raggedy and I ended up looking like a homeless person even if I'm wearing a nice suit. (I'd just looked like a homeless person who received a donated expensive suit from Goodwill.)
Then, I found out that a well maintained beard requires grooming. We're talking cutting it even with a scissor, trimming with a beard trimmer, shampooing with a special shampoo, and then combing it.
Geeeeeeez!
4. An agreement is not an agreement until the actual exchange happens.
I was working on a project in a developing country when the following happened.
I had negotiated a price for a certain amount of concrete with a construction supply company. When I came back with the trucks to pick up the concrete, the owner of the company said, "Sorry, no concrete".
I almost slugged him; I just paid for two trucks and he's not going to sell me the concrete. "What do you mean? We agreed on a price for the amount of concrete!"
He said, "And I still agree with the price and amount. But I have no concrete to sell you."
"What about all that concrete sitting there?"
"My brother came by and bought the concrete before you came back."
With two drivers and a loading crew already paid, I had to renegotiate a new price with the brother who "bought the concrete."
That was the first time. A couple of times later, I finally learned my lesson.
3. Money is not always appreciated
The best haircut that I've ever had was when I was abroad on one of my summer projects. The hair stylist was a Russian woman who spent almost thirty minutes trimming every hair on my head. She charged me an amount equal to about three U.S. dollars and fifty cents. I was so appreciative of the job that she did that I tipped her generously. Evidently, one does not tip a hair stylist over there so she gave me back the tip. I tried to explain that it was a generous tip because she did such an excellent job and pushed the money back to her. She pushed it back and gave me a disgusted look.
No, I never found out why.
2. True hospitality
People would actually invite you, a perfect stranger, a foreigner in their land, to sleep in their home after meeting you in the street.
Then, they'd cook you a feast that they only reserved for special occasions. (The kids would tell you that they are glad that you came because they get to eat some dessert that they normally wouldn't have.)
1. Beauty is a smile in the eyes and the lips served with an act of kindness when you are completely utterly helpless.
American society is designed for individual independence. If your car break down, call AAA. If you don't have a car, you can catch a taxi or a bus. If you are short on cash, you can use your credit card. You are never really completely helpless.
But when you find yourself in a foreign land, without a social safety net, unable to speak the language, and you need help... One can not describe the beauty of a smile served with kindness; one has to experience it.
I've been drinking Coke for as long as I can remember. I love the way its sweetness and fizzle dance on my tongue and slide down to the back of my mouth. Why would anyone not like drinking Coca Cola?
The first time I offered the drink to someone who has never drank it, he practically coughed it back out. That expression on his face was unmistakably saying, "What is this $@#& that you gave me to drink."
9. Hot dog is not an American food
Several countries have indigenous sausages that looks and tastes exactly like hot dogs and claimed to have invented it. Considering that they had been eating them for more than five hundred years, it is safe to say that hot dogs were not invented in America.
8. Visa, MasterCard, and American Express Credit Card are not "Accepted Everywhere You Want to Be".
A blank look from a cashier at a Bishkek department store says it all.
7. Carry a football (soccer ball), and you'd make friends.
No explanation needed.
6. Extending the index finger and the middle finger is not universally interpreted as "PEACE".
There's nothing, like facing an angry mob after doing so at the end of a football (soccer) match, to teach you not to do it.
5. Maintaining a beard is not easier than a clean shave
I've always shaved because, at fourteen, the patchy fuzz on my face looked stupid. However, after becoming an adult, the facial hair that I had to shave is much more evenly distributed. So when I started traveling, I thought I'd save some time by growing a beard and forgoing shaving in the morning. The beard came out raggedy and I ended up looking like a homeless person even if I'm wearing a nice suit. (I'd just looked like a homeless person who received a donated expensive suit from Goodwill.)
Then, I found out that a well maintained beard requires grooming. We're talking cutting it even with a scissor, trimming with a beard trimmer, shampooing with a special shampoo, and then combing it.
Geeeeeeez!
4. An agreement is not an agreement until the actual exchange happens.
I was working on a project in a developing country when the following happened.
I had negotiated a price for a certain amount of concrete with a construction supply company. When I came back with the trucks to pick up the concrete, the owner of the company said, "Sorry, no concrete".
I almost slugged him; I just paid for two trucks and he's not going to sell me the concrete. "What do you mean? We agreed on a price for the amount of concrete!"
He said, "And I still agree with the price and amount. But I have no concrete to sell you."
"What about all that concrete sitting there?"
"My brother came by and bought the concrete before you came back."
With two drivers and a loading crew already paid, I had to renegotiate a new price with the brother who "bought the concrete."
That was the first time. A couple of times later, I finally learned my lesson.
3. Money is not always appreciated
The best haircut that I've ever had was when I was abroad on one of my summer projects. The hair stylist was a Russian woman who spent almost thirty minutes trimming every hair on my head. She charged me an amount equal to about three U.S. dollars and fifty cents. I was so appreciative of the job that she did that I tipped her generously. Evidently, one does not tip a hair stylist over there so she gave me back the tip. I tried to explain that it was a generous tip because she did such an excellent job and pushed the money back to her. She pushed it back and gave me a disgusted look.
No, I never found out why.
2. True hospitality
People would actually invite you, a perfect stranger, a foreigner in their land, to sleep in their home after meeting you in the street.
Then, they'd cook you a feast that they only reserved for special occasions. (The kids would tell you that they are glad that you came because they get to eat some dessert that they normally wouldn't have.)
1. Beauty is a smile in the eyes and the lips served with an act of kindness when you are completely utterly helpless.
American society is designed for individual independence. If your car break down, call AAA. If you don't have a car, you can catch a taxi or a bus. If you are short on cash, you can use your credit card. You are never really completely helpless.
But when you find yourself in a foreign land, without a social safety net, unable to speak the language, and you need help... One can not describe the beauty of a smile served with kindness; one has to experience it.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Commercial Flight Boarding: An Olympic Event?
I spend a lot of time waiting. I'm waiting in traffic jams. I'm waiting in a store checkout queue. I'm waiting to board a train. I'm waiting to board a flight.
With all the waiting, I've acquired a hobby of people watching. And no matter the situation, there's always an interesting story to tell when I finally arrive at my destination.
Usually, I'd tell the story to my friends and we'd have a good laugh; then, I'd forget about them. Recently, I realized that many good stories are being lost. That's when I decided to start this blog: "Watching the Wheels Go Round and Round" and record the richness of life as it plays out while I wait for something.
I encountered a doozy of a story when I had a layover in Pittsburgh. There, I observed the most ill-prepared passenger ever in the history of commercial aviation. And her traveling woes were compounded by a series of unexpected airline mishaps. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes and someone were telling me this story, I would have thought that the speaker was weaving a tall tale.
As I wait for my flight, a young women ran in to join the queue at the check-in counter at the gate. There was excitement on her face, like that of a child on Christmas morning. Looked like her first time flying.
Nothing interesting about that.
But wait... She's carrying two large black plastic trash bags for her luggage!
I wandered, "Does airport security allow the carrying of fully stuffed trash bags? Are they going to allow trash bags as carry-ons? Are they going let her check trash bags in?" This situation is definitely one to watch.
The queue was unbearably slow and my anticipation of seeing the situation unfold was getting the best of me.
Finally, she reached the head of the queue.
Gosh, I wish I had a camera for the expression on the faces of the airline check-in agents! The look of surprise and the attempt to hold back laughter while trying to pretend for this passenger that this happens all the time. One of the agents had to look away to hide her lost of control of her facial expression.
Well, the answer to all my questions were "no". She can not carry on nor check in a couple of garbage bags. So, the agents gave her a couple of flat unassembled cardboard boxes and packaging tapes. Then, they sent her off to properly box her luggage.
It took her quite a while to fold and tape up the cardboard boxes and even longer to stuff them with her belongs. Finally, she rejoined the back of the queue once again.
No, her excitement hadn't faded, yet.
Unfortunately, by the time she reached the front of the queue, they had already closed the gate and the aircraft had started to taxi to the runway. So they sent her to the ticket counter to change her flight. (Note to the Pittsburgh Airport people: The distance between the gate and the ticket counter is too far to be practical for anyone who has to change their itinerary when they are already at the gate.)
So she, left the gate area with determination on her face.
This passenger was gone only a couple of minutes when the aircraft came back to the gate. Apparently, the pilot encountered some mechanical failure while sitting on the runway.
Hmmm... Looking like an episode of some television sitcom.
When she arrived back at the gate (about fifteen minutes later), she dropped her cardboard boxed, rush to the head of the queue and started talking frantically with the check-in agent. The agents agreed to watch her boxes and she dashed back to the ticket counter. In the mean time, the check-in agents started talking (I think) to the cabin crew as the other passengers in the queue waited with impatience on their faces.
Uh, oh! There's bad news on the faces of the check-in agents.
When the hapless passenger returned, the agents informed her that the flight is full and she's unable to board.
Back to the ticket counter for her!
Another fifteen minutes later, she returned to the gate area clutching to her new ticket as if clutching for her life.
She collected her cardboard boxes and joined the back of the check-in queue once again.
Suddenly, the door to the gate opened and a very irritated passenger stomped out. The thirty-minute wait was too much for this portly passenger.
The check-in agent frantically waved the trash bag passenger over, grabbed her two cardboard boxes, and sent her dashing to the ticket counter, once again.
Fifteen minutes later, she came running back into the gate area, her arms raised as if to break the tape at the finish line.
She made the flight and they closed the gate.
With all the waiting, I've acquired a hobby of people watching. And no matter the situation, there's always an interesting story to tell when I finally arrive at my destination.
Usually, I'd tell the story to my friends and we'd have a good laugh; then, I'd forget about them. Recently, I realized that many good stories are being lost. That's when I decided to start this blog: "Watching the Wheels Go Round and Round" and record the richness of life as it plays out while I wait for something.
I encountered a doozy of a story when I had a layover in Pittsburgh. There, I observed the most ill-prepared passenger ever in the history of commercial aviation. And her traveling woes were compounded by a series of unexpected airline mishaps. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes and someone were telling me this story, I would have thought that the speaker was weaving a tall tale.
As I wait for my flight, a young women ran in to join the queue at the check-in counter at the gate. There was excitement on her face, like that of a child on Christmas morning. Looked like her first time flying.
Nothing interesting about that.
But wait... She's carrying two large black plastic trash bags for her luggage!
I wandered, "Does airport security allow the carrying of fully stuffed trash bags? Are they going to allow trash bags as carry-ons? Are they going let her check trash bags in?" This situation is definitely one to watch.
The queue was unbearably slow and my anticipation of seeing the situation unfold was getting the best of me.
Finally, she reached the head of the queue.
Gosh, I wish I had a camera for the expression on the faces of the airline check-in agents! The look of surprise and the attempt to hold back laughter while trying to pretend for this passenger that this happens all the time. One of the agents had to look away to hide her lost of control of her facial expression.
Well, the answer to all my questions were "no". She can not carry on nor check in a couple of garbage bags. So, the agents gave her a couple of flat unassembled cardboard boxes and packaging tapes. Then, they sent her off to properly box her luggage.
It took her quite a while to fold and tape up the cardboard boxes and even longer to stuff them with her belongs. Finally, she rejoined the back of the queue once again.
No, her excitement hadn't faded, yet.
Unfortunately, by the time she reached the front of the queue, they had already closed the gate and the aircraft had started to taxi to the runway. So they sent her to the ticket counter to change her flight. (Note to the Pittsburgh Airport people: The distance between the gate and the ticket counter is too far to be practical for anyone who has to change their itinerary when they are already at the gate.)
So she, left the gate area with determination on her face.
This passenger was gone only a couple of minutes when the aircraft came back to the gate. Apparently, the pilot encountered some mechanical failure while sitting on the runway.
Hmmm... Looking like an episode of some television sitcom.
When she arrived back at the gate (about fifteen minutes later), she dropped her cardboard boxed, rush to the head of the queue and started talking frantically with the check-in agent. The agents agreed to watch her boxes and she dashed back to the ticket counter. In the mean time, the check-in agents started talking (I think) to the cabin crew as the other passengers in the queue waited with impatience on their faces.
Uh, oh! There's bad news on the faces of the check-in agents.
When the hapless passenger returned, the agents informed her that the flight is full and she's unable to board.
Back to the ticket counter for her!
Another fifteen minutes later, she returned to the gate area clutching to her new ticket as if clutching for her life.
She collected her cardboard boxes and joined the back of the check-in queue once again.
Suddenly, the door to the gate opened and a very irritated passenger stomped out. The thirty-minute wait was too much for this portly passenger.
The check-in agent frantically waved the trash bag passenger over, grabbed her two cardboard boxes, and sent her dashing to the ticket counter, once again.
Fifteen minutes later, she came running back into the gate area, her arms raised as if to break the tape at the finish line.
She made the flight and they closed the gate.
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