I'M A MERLION! MER-LION!!

When a Brazilian athlete reaches some particular level of fame it becomes socially acceptable, if not required, for that athlete to drop a portion of his name and, henceforth, be referred to by a single moniker. Such athletes include Pele, Ronaldo, Nene, and P-Diddy. Well, Singapore is the Brazilian athlete of Southeast Asia. It was born into poverty, worked hard under the guidance of a hard-ass coach, went solo, and is now reaping the benefits in the form of high-speed escalators, 24-hour McDonald's, and giant Merlion statues in the harbour. Singapore; it is a tremendous story of beating the odds, really.

So now that I have officially been here a week and the jet-lag induced diatribes that filled my last entry have somewhat subsided, I believe I am ready to give a "so these are my feelings towards Singapore after a week" entry.

I like it. I do. Sure, it is a clean and a bit sterile, but those are just the malls. And yes, while it is physically impossible to go ANYWHERE without having to walk through at least one mall, having to do so is worth it, as the city that lies adjacent to the Body Shop, to the left of Sony store, and just past the Gap, is a flavorful, colorful, and fascinating one that rivals anywhere I have ever been.

The most notable aspect of Singapore, one that will rarely be debated by anyone who visits our little island, is the quality of food. Amazing. I have found myself stuffing my face full of dumplings, curry, fried rice, more dumplings, chili crab, ramen (the real kind), and dishes that I just point to and hope for the best. From fancy restaurants to hawker stands with picnic tables, there is something, something damn good, for everybody.


Neighborhoods. I have walked miles and miles this weekend. From Little India and the Arab Quarter, to Chinatown and the Central Business District, I hit them all, and I like them all as well. The cultural diversity of Singapore is incredible. It is a true crossroads, not only of business, but of culture as well.

One of my favorites was Little India. It is a little frenetic and smells of incense and curry, which is what attracted me in the first place. Another was Chinatown, which is a mix of being artistically and architecturally significant, and being corny. The first time I went, last week, I only saw the latter. Today I was introduced to the former, and loved it. I plan on being back there a lot this summer. Overall, I can't wait to get to know what the city as a whole has to offer.

The weather. It is hot and humid...and do you want to know something? I am ok with it. I really thought it was going to bother me more than it has. Will it get old? Yes. Will I welcome the weather in Berkeley when I return? More than anything. But until then, I am ok being gross and sweaty all the time. Weird, I know.


Activities. I went out on Friday night, on my own, looking for trouble. Well, trouble is hard to find in Singapore unless you are chewing gum or spitting. What I did find was Clarke Quay and some really nice people to chat with and have a beer. That was the start of my weekend.


I ended it by attending Bornfire, a fire spinning show that was part of the Singapore Arts Festival. Absolutely fascinating. And, as you can see by the pictures, bright and somewhat dangerous. Slowly but surely I am starting to get to know the city. I am excited that as the summer progresses I will me more people and attend more unique events. And, hopefully, find some trouble.

Finally, my job; it is why I am here, after all. One word: lucky. I don't know how I was able to land such a great opportunity. Essentially, on a high level, I am working to reorganize the way the human resource services are provided and managed for the entire Asia Pacific region. My charge for the summer is to create shared service centers so that the HR services that the company provides can be as efficient and effective as possible. What is great is that I am kind of running on my own here; basically I am acting like a consultant. My boss, who is an absolutely wonderful Irishwoman, gave me a short intro on Monday and now I am off and running. Am I scared? Kind of. Am I a little lost? Yes. Am I excited? Very. There is a lot to say about my job and the opportunity, but I will probably have plenty of time to detail the happenings as my summer progresses.


So what's next? Things. I am going to spend next weekend in Hong Kong. For you Deloitters out there, think way back. Waaaayyyyy back. Now, think plaid. Are you there? Are you thinking of Janke? Yep, Janke, D-Nice (who is in Beijing), and myself are all meeting in Hong Kong as a sort of Deloitte reunion, HK style. Some of you out there, and you know who you are, should turn your cell phones off for the weekend. Then it looks like I will be heading to Seoul, Korea, for work the week after. Depending on how work goes, and what type of travel budget my boss thinks I should have, I could be visiting a lot of places for work this summer. We'll see.

Oh, and for you Berkeleyans, six words: Aneesh arrives tomorrow for the summer. Yep. Singapore will never be the same.

Alright. Many of you are just waking up to start your Sunday. I just yawned and am about to prepare myself for bed so that I can be fresh for my Monday. With that said, I hope everyone is doing well. Shoot me an e-mail or call me (I have a cell phone now: +65 97580967), as I would love to talk to each of you and share more of Singapore with you. Until next time...

Jetlag-Induced Ramblings

These are just ramblings. They were compiled during the haze of what has been my past few days. Some where recorded during the flight from San Francisco to Singapore, while others were written at five in the morning when I was wide awake because my body has yet to adapt to the fifteen hour time difference between California and Singapore. Anyhow, I have only changed them a little, as I think they are kind of funny now that I am somewhat coherent. I will be sure to write a real update tomorrow...or sometime. It will include a real impression of Singapore, and some information about my project, which is a really wonderful opportunity that I am excited to share with everyone.


I. The Flight to Singapore

I am currently over the north Pacific hurtling at 34,000 feet in a glorified pop can towards Tokyo. We just passed the international dateline, which, in a way, still baffles me. About 75% of the occupants here in coach are high school students in some student ambassador group. They are probably going overseas to be exposed to new cultures, do community service, and get drunk for the first time...or at least for the first time legally.

At first I was worried that I was going to be stuck sitting next to one of them. I imagined annoying high school conversations entailing fifteen kids hovering near my seat while discussing what it is going to be like away from one’s parents, who on the trip is going to hook up, and who has cooties. However, I am actually sitting next to the equivalent of two high schoolers in the form of a single person. This apparently explains why I am only entitled to 78% of my seat. This rarely happens to me on short domestic flights, but always happens when the length of the flight exceeds 8 hours. Therefore, in retrospect I was wrong about sitting next to a high schooler. Since the average high school guy is about six foot, 105 pounds, I probably would have had room to spare instead of playing footsie with an overweight middle-aged man for the 11 hour flight to Tokyo.

Roeper from the show "Ebert and Roeper" now does a mini “review” prior to each movie shown on United. It is actually a pretty cool idea. The best part is that he tries as hard as he can to justify why I should spend the next two hours of my life watching the Tim Allen, Martin Lawrence, John Travolta epic, “Wild Hogs”. Instead of saying something about how it appeals to the adventurous spirit of middle-aged men he should just say, “You are on an eleven hour flight. What the hell else are you going to do right now?”

II. Singapore and My Apartment

I live in a shopping mall. The first six floors of my building is the mall called the Far East Plaza. I walk by three shopping malls to catch the subway, which is in a shopping mall. I transfer trains in a shopping mall. The subway lets me off at work, which is located in a shopping mall. After work I went to the grocery store for some essentials. It was in the basement of a shopping mall. I then grabbed some green curry…in a shopping mall. Freaking Singapore. On the bright side, I like that I can buy cheap electronics or have suits made if needed.


My apartment is great. It is a two bedroom on the twenty-third floor of the building. The kitchen is simple, which works since I don’t cook. The living room has floor to ceiling windows providing a view of my balcony, and beyond that, the skyline of southwest Singapore. It’s a pretty badass view, I must say.

I left my neighborhood, Orchard Road, or as Lonely Planet puts it, a blitzkrieg of shopping, yesterday to explore a bit. I went to the entertainment area of Clarke Quay and then found my way to Chinatown. I am not sure why Singapore needs a Chinatown since a majority of the people here are of Chinese descent. It is akin to having a Chinatown in Beijing. Or a Little America in Cheyenne…which exists. Ok, never mind, it makes sense.

I found a good radio station: Singapore’s 91.3, 100% Pure Fun. It plays good mix between music I currently love and music I loved when I was fourteen. Playing right now: Now That We Found Love What Are We Going to Do With It? By Heavy D & The Boyz. Which, by the way, is a good question.

The humidity is going to kill me. While I can say that my time exploring the town was meant to get my bearings, it would be a lie. More or less I was on an island-wide search for air conditioning.

Singaporean English, or Singlish, is ridiculous. Apparently they speak English here in Singapore. I haven’t heard it yet. I have heard Hindi, Malay, Chinese, and a language that sounds kind of like English, but whose word order is mixed up and lacks pronouns. However, I do like the fact that everything is written in four languages. Singapore definitely lives up to its multi-cultural billing.

I just had the greatest toast of my life. On the surface it was just bread, butter, and some sort of jam…but it was amazing. I have no idea what they put on it, but I suspect it was crack.

An Epilogue...and a Prologue

I am where I started: sitting on my uncomfortable wooden IKEA chair at my functional IKEA desk, acting pensive and thoughtful, and typing about my travels. As promised (ok, not promised, more like proposed) here is my one-third-trip epilogue-prologue. Essentially, I will give a few final thoughts on my trip to South America and will lay out a few hopes and aspirations for my forthcoming trip to Singapore.


I was worried about heading to South America. My concerns weren't constructed in the traditional sense. I wasn't worried about safety, logistics, health, and the like. Rather, I was worried about how we were going to construct our research project, who we were going to talk to in order to obtain sufficient information within that construct, and whether or not we as a team were even going to be able to stand each other after three weeks. Oh, and I was worried about whether or not I was going to survive Luke's snoring. But it was all for not. I am happy with the work we did; my expectations were exceeded. Moreover, I loved the people I traveled with. From the five Israelis in Bolivia, to Luke and Niels, and everyone in-between, I am happy I was able to experience South America with these people. Oh, and the snoring? iPods are amazing snore-neutralizers.


Now I am trading the muddy roads of Peruvian villages for the spit-shined ones of Singapore. Moto-taxis will be traded for the subway, civiche will be traded for curry, and $2 beers will be traded for those that cost $12. Overall, it is going to be a significant change...obviously. However, I think this is mainly due to the fact that I have never really lived in a shopping mall before.


Anyhow, there is so much I look forward to in Singapore: the mixture of cultures, the proximity of exciting destinations, and the 60%-off sales that are perpetually occurring at any one of the 75,247 malls located on the island. I am also looking forward to a paycheck. While cubicle life isn't entirely inviting, being able to buy items with money that is not subject to 7% compounding interest will be nice.

So there you have it. Pretty skimpy on the hopes and aspirations, but I can imagine that several will come to me during the 18 hour flight to Singapore. In fact, I bet they will include aspiring to find a way off of the plane, and hoping that I won't be stuck in the "United coach-seat" position for the rest of my life.


Finally...the pictures. I took over 600 of them. I have posted a few here, but I plan to post my favorite ones a photo sharing site for all to see. Some are good. Some are bad. Some are frameable. I will post the link once I have posted them.

Alright...for those of you I saw in California: Thanks. It was nice to have a little "home" for a couple of days. For the rest of you: I will see you soon. Until then, keep in touch. Skype me (paulderemer), e-mail me, or call me (will give a number once I have a phone).

Goodbye Campo...Hello Hot Shower

Pardos Chicken is a chain of mid-scale carnivore-pleasing food establishments here in Peru. There can order a wide variety of meaty treats, from steak and sausages to all sizes of roasted chickens. Additionally, which may not seem obvious at first, if one is lucky enough and in the port city of Chiclayo at the right time, one can hang out with the contestants of the Miss Peru 2007 competition as they have a meal prior to the big show. This is a good thing, as fresh from several days without showering and after traveling for nearly twenty-four hours, this was exactly what Luke and I were looking for when we decided to kill some time as we waited for our unnecessarily-delayed flight to leave for Lima. Did we do anything to take advantage of our situation? Of course not. Who are we to a bunch of sash-wearing beauty queens? That and the fact we smelled like rural Peru somewhat precluded us from talking to the contestants. However, our disheveled state did not prevent us from realizing, once again, that the serendipitous nature of our trip had provided us with yet another entertaining moment to share.

So here we are in Lima; back in the big town. The positives of being back in Lima include an abundance of ceviche, a warm shower, and our dress coats.

So what has happened since I last blogged? Lots. When I last wrote I was recovering from a white-knuckle ride in the back of a Toyota truck. From there Luke, Niels, our newly acquired translator Alberto, and I prepared ourselves for the next part of our work: field surveys. Essentially, we designated this past week as our time to head back into the field, this time to administer a set of surveys that explored the use of electricity (for both the home and business), and, if electricity wasn't present, the expectations for the future use of electricity if installed. We identified a small village along the Rio Tabaconas, Tamborapa Pueblo, where we felt would be able to get responses that were relatively representative of similar villages in the area. Tamborapa Pueblo is a town with about 200 households that is electrified by means of a micro-hydro system that was installed in 1999. What made this town even more appealing was the fact that nearby there were an abundance of unelectrified households against which we could perform our contrasting survey.


Tamborapa Pueblo sits in the basin of the Rio Tabaconas river valley. It is a small village with muddy roads, simple structures, and a little restaurant called Anderson's, where we ate every meal everyday. There we stayed in a simple hospedaje owned by the daughter of an elderly couple that had been living in the village for about sixty years. The four of us split up the city into blocks, and set out to interview every-other household about their electricity use.

I could go on and on about the magnitude of the experience, as never before did I ever picture myself sitting among rural Peruvians in their simple homes talking about their use of electricity. Oftentimes we only spoke of the handful of light bulbs that hung from the ceiling that allowed the occupants to work into the evening or for their children to study without needing to light a kerosene lamp. For me, not hailing from a development background, it was a giant step beyond my comfort zone. Entering another's home was difficult enough; however, transcending the social, economic, and language barriers as well was, for me, a very challenging, but equally fulfilling experience.

Top Five Experiences in Tamborapa Pueblo:
1.) Playing Frisbee with my teammates and a few kids from the town
2.) Teaching a large group of kids English words in the streets of the town.
3.) Interviewing a school teacher about his use of electricity. In exchange for this interview I provided an English lesson about the correct use of some of the most difficult aspects of our obtuse language. All of this while about 20 kids looked on laughing at the goofy gringo sitting around eating ice cream speaking (to them) a funny language.
4.) Sitting with farmers in their unelectrified homes and talking about what having an electricity would mean to them.
5.) Eating at Anderson's everyday, hosted by Anita and her young son: Anderson.
6.) A bonus - Having a coffee tasting session in which Luke took us through every aspect of of the coffee-cupping process: seperating the beans, roasting the beans, grinding the beans, brewing the beans, tasting it, and finally drinking the coffee. A caffeine addicts dream.


After leaving Niels in Jaen and spending about 28 hours traveling planes, trains, and automobiles-style from Tamborapa Pueblo back down the coast, we made it back to Lima. While in the big town we met with another set of contacts. We also resumed our culinary tour, visiting a couple of places that we enjoyed most during our first stay in the city. Add in an art show hosted by the Embassy, some cosmic bowling, and a significant amount of shopping, and that pretty much sums up our final few days in the Peruvian capital.

So I suppose I should say goodbye to Peru and South America. But I won't. I will definitely miss it and will probably write some sort of South American epilogue when I get back to Berkeley. However, I suppose it will also be a prologue, as I will be preparing to leave for Singapore immediately after I return to the States. Oh, and I will start sending out some of the 600+ pictures I took while down here.

Alright...I guess that is it. I will see many of you back in Berkeley, and will talk to the rest of you as soon as I can. Chao!

What is up with these "Death Roads" anyway?

Mom...the following two paragraphs are for you. In it I am going to describe our work, how we are doing, and what we have been up to. Then I am going to move on to a story. You may want to stop reading there. Just know that I am safe, nothing happened, and that all my experiences are just creating interesting stories for me to tell my grandchildren when I am old.

So our work...things are going well. In addition to befriending the staff of the Grand Hotel St. Ig, we also spent our days meeting with both coffee cooperatives and coffee farmers in the region. For me, meeting the people behind, and learning about the processes involved in the production of coffee has been a tremendously educational and fulfilling experience. Such an opportunity gives significantly more meaning to the ultimate product, which is the large coffee I order daily from Cafe Strada in Berkeley. But seriously, everyone we have met thus far has been extremely welcoming and has provided us with a significant amount of information regarding their use (whether productive or not) of electricity in their lives. As I mentioned earlier, during this part of the research we are looking at ways electricity may be used in the production of coffee here in northern Peru.


The team is doing great. We just came off of a nice relaxing weekend. Luke and I went to th coastal town of Chiclayo, while Niels stayed in Jaen. While the weekend was meant to be productive (Luke and I with our remittance work and Niels with his survey), we all ended up just relaxing and preparing for another long week of traveling the backroads of Peru talking to coffee farmers and trying not to scare people with my extremely unkempt beard.


Alright...so a story. In our work we have essentially identified a few "profiles" of villages that we would like to visit. These profiles are defined by the availability of electricity and the relative intra-village cooperation that is happening among farmers within their respective villages. While some villages are easy to access (like my favorite, Yandiluza), others are, well, not quite off a Peruvian expressway. Enter Cesara. Lying four hours away from our comfy digs in St. Ig lies the sprawling metropolis of Cesara, population about 1,000...chickens.

The team woke up to the sound of rain, and snoring, before dawn Thursday morning. By six we were on the road and on the way to Cesara to visit what we believed to be the electrified and highly cooperative village of Cesara. We packed into Antonio´s truck and headed into the mountains not knowing what to expect.

The first couple hours, while bumpy, were easy. Then came the road. One lane wide and creeping along the side of a Peruvian mountain, rested the rain slickened road we were to take to our destination. Only as we continued along the road were we able to truly see what we had in front of us, as the dense fog and rain limited the extent of our visability. Slowly, but surely, from the fog appeared steep cliffs and the reminants of previous landslides. These, and the absolute look of terror on my face were all there really was to keep us entertained (that and the thought of what the hell I was going to tell my parents if something happened). Now, as an intermission in the story let me just say that the view from this road was unreal. Just the pictures alone were worth the scare.

Back to the road. As we approached the village the dirt turned to clay, which may as well had been ice judging from the way the Toyota fish-tailed up the mountainside. Now, as the most paranoid member of the team, it was at this point I was ready to walk. But Antonio assured us we would be fine, and sure enough we made it to the village.


That was up...now down. Needless to say, I wasn´t quite holding it together very well for the trip down. I, greedily, convinced the others, and ultimately Antonio, that maybe it would be best if Luke, Niels, and I stood in the back of the truck, you know, to add weight to the bed. For me, it was also a way to get out of that death trap and into a position where at least I would have a chance to jump for safety if, in fact, the truck did start to head off the mountain into the abyss below. Now, I realize the physics supporting my escape plan aren´t exactly in my favor; however, it did give me at least some feeling of control. So there we were, getting soaked by the pouring rain, all in a crouched position waiting to jump from the bed of the truck in case of disaster. Antonio must have thought were were idiots.

But we made it! Sort of. While nothing happened on the mountainside, we didn´t quite make it back to Jaen in one piece. The Toyota, bless her soul, conked out about 28 kilometers from Jaen. This was not at all what we wanted while in the middle of our tenth hour on the road that day. So there we were, on the side of a Peruvian road, bags in hand and looking for a ride into town. Finally a shared taxi came along, into which the four of us piled, joining the five people already squeezed into the car. From there we cruised towards town while listening to spanish remakes of popular American love songs. "Love Hurts" and "Lady in Red" have never truly been appreciated until they have been enjoyed with eight other people packed into a Toyota Corolla Wagon.

Whew.

Travels with Charley...I mean Luke

In 1960 John Steinbeck took a trip across the United States with his pet poodle Charley. I suppose Charley, in some ways, was not only taken for companionship, but also as a living and breathing sort of "ice breaker" for all of the people Steinbeck was bound to meet during his journey. Much like that great American author, I too am traveling with a living and breathing ice breaker...his name is Lucas Dunnington. I could go on and on about all of the things Luke and his Spanish has allowed us to achieve down here, but I will just give one quick story that sums it up:

We spent three days earlier this week in and around the small town of San Ignacio in (waaaayyyy) northern Peru. San Ignacio, or "St. Ig" as I will now refer to it, is a clean, peaceful town near the Ecuadorian border. Notable things about St. Ig are its abundance of coffee cooperatives, its inordinate number of remarkably beautiful women, and the Grand Hotel San Ignacio, which is a mammoth structure that just opened and was pretty much just hosting us. Being one of just a few guests has its advantages, not the least of which being an over-abundance of quality service from the staff. That is where our story begins.

We ate dinner at the hotel both nights in town. For both meals we were treated with service from an tremendously eager waiter named Wilson. Wilson, at age 21, brought with him a very formal, yet extremely friendly attitude to the job. The first evening at Chez St. Ig, our food options were limited, mainly due to the relatively isolated nature of the town. In hopes of at least a good drink we asked for some pisco sours (of course). But, alas, they did not even have the ingredients for that ubiquitous Peruvian cocktail. Sensing our disappointment, Wilson promised better from the kitchen the next evening.


Fast forward about twenty-four hours. We were back in the restaurant, eager for our meal and promised pisco sours. But to our dismay, the kitchen was unable to procure pisco for our drinks. Not to be left dry for another night, Luke took the initiative to head up the hill into town to buy the necessary bottle of pisco. Luke´s initiative and smooth talking not only allowed us to access to our favorite drinks, but also provided access to the kitchen in order to get a lesson from the kitchen and wait staff about how to make the famous Peruvian drink. We spent a good amount of time back in the kitchen making, and even better, drinking those pisco sours with our waiters and cooks. Afterwards we were treated to a good dinner and company from more members of the hotel staff. Essentially, as we were pretty much the only guests, there wasn´t much more for the staff to do than drink pisco sours with us. Thanks Luke.