For years my mother and I had been dreaming about the day we could travel on a small cruise among the famed Galapagos Islands in the Pacific Ocean, roughly 1,000 km from the Ecuadorian coast. After years of exotic and adventurous travel around the world, we finally decided to plan a trip to the Ecuadorian Amazon, the Galapagos Islands and stop off at Quito to immerse ourselves in Ecuadorian culture.

The adventure trip began deep in the Ecuadorian Amazon jungle. We flew to Coca, a rather small town (but considered large by Amazonian standards), and then boarded a speed-boat which would shuttle us to our eco-lodge nestled in the jungle flora. After a two-hour ride on one of the Amazon’s tributaries, we were dropped off at a small ‘landing’ where wooden 4-person canoes and local guides waited to wind us down a smaller tributary and onto a splendid black water lake that was the backdrop and the main scenic splendor of the eco-lodge that would be our home for the next four days. For those who have never seen a ‘black’ lake, it is truly a spectacular site. Sediments and high acidic values are what make lakes ‘black’ in color and transform these bodies of waters into a large sheet of mirrored glass. It is truly one of nature’s most awesome spectacles. By the way, many an anaconda and cayman live in these waters, which is why my mom and I did not opt for the afternoon swim that others were engaging in!

The Amazon jungle is absolutely dense, moist, green and amazing. My mom and I slushed around in our lodge-issued rubber boots and took in all that the Amazon had to offer. The eco-lodge was another impressive treat. It blended into the environment so the entire experience was very serene. Of course, one of the most memorable aspects of staying in the lodge was the kind service of the local staff and the FOOD…gourmet food that was never ending. Hats off to the chef!

Once we were canoed out of the Amazon, we headed to the Ecuadorian coast (Guayaquil) where we boarded a small aircraft that landed on the island of Baltra, one of the larger, inhabited islands of the Galapagos. Once picked up by our tour guide, we were taken to a lovely inn where we enjoyed a magnificent four-course lunch (sadly, the last full meal I would have in 4 days!). Several hours after our meal, we finally arrived at the small port where we boarded a motorized rubber dingy that took us to our destination…a 36-person, 3-story cruise that floated gently in the sea. Somehow, I had forgotten how incredibly sea sick I get when sailing in the ocean, especially on smaller vessels. The moment I set foot on the cruise (okay, perhaps 20 minutes after stepping foot on the deck), I became nauseous. Of course, it was no help that I was three months pregnant and suffering from ‘morning sickness’ at all hours of the day. I am embarrassed to admit that I vomited instantly (luckily, I was standing on the deck and had a chance to direct my vomit out to sea) and did not stop vomiting for 13 hours. My poor mother became nauseous as well. She says she has never suffered from sea sickness and that the sight of me vomiting non-stop while 3-months pregnant made her very nervous…which then prompted her own vomiting fest. This was how my mother and I spent one entire night vomiting in the tiny bathroom of our tiny room on the lower deck. My mother damaged a nerve while vomiting and a doctor had to be summoned to inject her with a very high dose of pain management medication. We spend four days on the small cruise without once off-boarding to step foot on the uninhabited Galapagos Islands. We did see them from afar, watching the other passengers off-load onto the crystalline waters and making their way onto the sandy beaches. I lost six pounds during those four days, and well, my mother lost a bit more than that (since we could not even keep water down while sailing from island to island). It was by far one of the most miserable travel experiences we have had, no thanks to my first trimester of pregnancy and my inability to keep down Dramamine while on the cruise. Alas, there will be other opportunities to visit the Galapagos Islands…but next time we will opt for a much larger cruise, one which fares the strong currents of the Pacific Ocean a bit better than our small 36-person cruise.

Vientiane (pronounced Viang-chan; literally “City of Sandalwood”) is the capital city of Laos, situated in the Mekong Valley. It is also Laos’s largest city. The estimated population of the city is 200,000 (2005). Vientiane is a 45-minute flight from Hanoi, so one would expect the flight to be economically priced; however, we paid more than $300 for the return trip…unbelievable! In spite of the relatively expensive flight to neighboring Laos, we were able to negotiate a great rate at the loveliest hotel in Vientiane (the name escapes me now). Our bungalow was nestled among lush greens and our balcony overlooked the beautiful blue waters of the swimming pool. We were not only determined to enjoy the hotel amenities, we also wanted to take in some of the inviting natural landscapes outside of Vientiane. Our group of four deciding to join a day-long adventure trip that consisted of mountain biking through rough jungle passages (and I mean rough!), hiking toward a pristine waterfall, and kayaking down a river. I must admit, some of us were more capable of the physical challenge than others. The oldest member of our group (I won’t name names or ages here, but she’s just a few years younger than my mom) fared the best in all aspects of the adventure. She was the only one that stayed on the mountain bike for the duration of the trail, while myself, my husband and Justin (a PSI colleague) opted to get on the ‘sad bus’ after the second incline (there were a total of 12 steep inclines, so thank God for the bus that was trailing us on the bikes). The hiking bit was a bit easier and we all did quite well on that 2-hour segment of our trip, except when the lot of us walked right into a swarming buzz of microscopic wasps that stung the living c**p out of us. The stings were so painful that our local guide had to pull out the first aid kit and soothe us with alcohol swabs, tiger balm and plasters. The kayaking was perhaps the funniest of all segments because we were given ‘blow up’ kayaks that were steadily deflating throughout our journey down river. The local guide had to pump air into the kayaks as we drifted, and some of us kept kayaking in circles despite our attempts to go south. Someone who shall remain nameless ended up tipping over in her kayak and was submerged in the shallow river for a few seconds while the rest of us laughed out loud (sorry, it was funny!). We were all really glad when the day ended and we were offered buffalo skin chunks as a nice post-adventure treat.

Although we had planned other out-of-Vientiane outings, we were so exhausted by the adventurous biking-hiking-kayaking trip that we decided to wine and dine in style at several French restaurants in town and spend the rest of our days shuttling between the hotel’s fabulous swimming pool and the nearby spa (enjoying full body massages and relaxing facials). I am likely a biased subject because I live in the region, but I dare to say that South East Asia is one of the most interesting and enjoyable regions on Earth (coming from someone who has lived on 6 continents…that’s right, I’ve not lived in Antarctica…yet!).

The Mai Chau Lodge, our host for two days, provides a good description of this town on its website and brochures:

Mai Chau is located 135 km south-west of Hanoi in the Northern province of Hoa Binh which is bordered by Son La in the West, Phu Tho and Ha Tay in the North, Ha Nam and Ninh Binh in the East, and Thanh Hoa in the South. Mai Chau has a population of about 47,500 inhabitants that belong to different ethnic minority groups such as the White Thai, H’mong, Zao, Muong, Tay, Hoa and Viet. The Mai Chau hill tribes are warm and welcoming, and famous for their handicrafts – in particular for their skills in embroidering clothes. Mai Chau offers a most splendid vista of the Valley which is surrounded by lush greens and stilt houses inhabited mainly by the White Thai ethnic group. The Sunday market brings a lot of people into town where traditional Thai dishes are made and revel in traditional dances.

Not only did we find the vista of the Valley splendid, we felt like we were in an ecological heaven. Mai Chau is certainly one of the most beautiful valleys I’ve visited in Vietnam. Although the camera was able to capture some of the impressive green tones in the rice fields during our trip, our eyes were captivated by scenes that just could not be replicated by the lens of a camera. As we walked along the dirt paths along the rice paddies all of us were compelled to stop in our tracks because the beauty around us was spectacular. Our gang of 10 friends from Hanoi was equally amazed at the shear sense of raw nature all around us. We were particularly impressed by how ecologically sound the livelihoods of the ethnic communities were and by how long the community members work their fields and rear their animals. We met one woman who was tender and dear, and who shied away from our camera, who was sitting peacefully at the edge of one of the large rice fields waiting for her buffalo to return from grazing. Our local guide translated our questions to her, one of which was, “what if your buffalo doesn’t return?” The woman just laughed unassumingly, showing off her betel-stained mouth and few remaining teeth, “of course he’ll come back, he always comes back.” Our second question was more intrusive, but she was still happy to answer, “I’m 76 years old,” she said casually. Our group was astounded at her beauty and radiance. We all agreed that she did not look like a 76 year-old woman!

To see Vietnam the way it must have been before the “American” War, one must travel to the beautiful villages that are left untouched by the new “capitalist ways”. So get away from the air pollution and traffic congestion of the big cities (mainly Hai Phong, Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi), one must wander out into the rural corners of Vietnam (and there are many!) to see people working their fields, tending to their animals, raising their fields, and chatting away with each other…all of these things carried out in beautifully peaceful environments! Us city folks felt a tinge of regret for pursuing the achievement of some-what materialist goals, living fast-paced, busy lives; while the ethnic minorities in Mai Chau seemed to have it all!

Since I enjoyed my Master’s program at the University of Sydney so much, I decided to embark upon the distinction of attempting to earn a doctoral degree from Flinders University of South Australia. I love Sydney, there’s no doubt about that, but Adelaide offered two very important things: 1) a flexible program for professionals employed full-time, and 2) a whole host of in-laws (ranging from aunties and uncles to a drove of cousins) that help to make me feel at home even when I have tons of studying to do!

Chadi and I traveled to Adelaide for one week in March 2009, so that I could attend my first doctoral seminar and so that he could spend time with his family (and time on the beach and in the hotel’s jacuzzi…lucky chap!). Although I spend most of my days in lectures, seminars, and small discussion groups, Chadi and I did enjoy the warm South Australia summer since we set up camp in a beach front one bedroom apartment in Glenelg (a neat little beach side community in Adelaide). The beach was amazing, the cuisine options were impressive, the in-laws were especially welcoming and warm, and the week just flew by too quickly! Not to worry, I’m slated to return for my second doctoral seminar (this time for two weeks) in August 2009. As can be imagined, I will be staying beach front…in spite of the cold winter conditions that await my return!

Why stay in gloomy, cold, cloudy Hanoi for Tet when we can immerse ourselves in tropical warmth by taking a 3 hour flight to Singapore? Chadi and me decided to spend our 7-day Tet holiday in a warmer part of the region: Singapore and Malaysia’s Langkawi Island. We arrived in Singapore for the Lunar New Year, so not much was open for business, but we managed to have a great time anyway. We stayed at a marvelous hotel next to the winding river that cuts across Singapore, and we were just steps away from the water front’s plethora of pubs and restaurants; these, we found out, did remain open to the wee hours of the night. For those who have never been to Singapore, it’s really an amazing example of rigid development for the benefits of the social unit as opposed to the individual. What does that mean, in practical terms? Well, for one, there are no bad neighborhoods, there is very little crime, and the city-state is incredibly clean. The Singapore government limits many activities that may imply negative consequences to the whole of society. An example would be the law that prohibits the chewing of gum in public spheres. Singapore is a modern metropolis, which imports and produces just about every electrical gadget found in the world. It’s certainly a must-see country.

We spent our last four days of holiday in a beach-front resort in Langkawi Island, just off the western shore of peninsular Malaysia. Although quite a small island, it provides travelers with an array of accommodation and dining options. We were in such a “relax” mode while in Langkawi, that we only signed up for two excursions, choosing to spend most of our free time lounging under palm trees on the beach. For fun, we went on a trekking expedition in Langkawi’s rain forest which proved to be more of an ecological expedition, which was fair enough. The last and more interesting trip we took was on a sail boat, which sailed on the green waters of the Andaman Sea. From the sail boat, we were able to do a bit of kayaking, swimming, and we enjoyed the “drag” Jacuzzi. Not sure most people have experienced this, as we were led to believe it is a truly Langkawi invention. The sail boat we were on basically had a thick fishing net that dragged along in the water as we sailed, and Chadi and me sat in the net, with Jacuzzi effect, drinking our cold beer as the boat sailed along at moderate speed. Good times!

One bitterly cold early November morning, two old girlfriends from college (Jen and me) rushed through the Embassy Circle Guest House (just about the best B&B in DC), followed by the dear, sweet owner who had gone out earlier than usual to bring us back some warm pastries for our big trip north. With cups of hot herbal tea and pastries in our hands, we hurried down the concrete steps to meet another one of our old college friends (Ruby), who was on-time and ready to drive us to DC’s China Town. After so many years of annual trips to New York during college, as diligent Model United Nations delegates and subsequently, staff members, the three of us were heading to New York once again. There were some key folks missing, of course, like our fearless leader, Kevin, and our guardian angel, John, both of whom are now married with children (and somewhat unavailable to drop everything and fly to New York on a whim).

As usual, New York was fantastic. As soon as we saw the skyline as we drove north from New Jersey, we were inspired, yet again. I had seen the NYC skyline one hundred times, but the rush of emotions and great memories made it feel like the first time. I organized to meet another old friend from slightly post-college days, Amy, who I worked with in DC for many, many years. It had been at least four years since I last saw Amy, so it was a lovely reunion!

We spent the day doing the very classic NYC things we used to do back in the late 90′s when we were college students and Model UN delegates. We had a fancy Italian lunch, enjoying some Chianti with friends. We rushed off to a Broadway show, Spring Awakening, which was both comical and sobering. We then ventured to one of our favorite dive bars in mid-town. Anyone ever involved with Model UN (there were about 3,000 of us) would remember the Irish pub around the corner from the Grand Hyatt on 42nd Street…Muldoon’s. For five years in a row, we spent some of our best Spring nights at Muldoon’s…good times! Before heading back to China town to catch our bus back to DC, we had to spend some time at the best jazz club in down-town NYC, Arthur’s Tavern where Sweet Georgia Brown’s voice conjures up images of endless nights of dancing in crowded spaces. We, of course, owe all of our insider knowledge of NYC to our intellectual, yet incredibly hip Model UN advisor, the esteemed and well-published Dr. John Moore, who year after year, blessed us with his sharp intellect, incredible stories, and love of the arts and the good life.

Thanks to Jen for flying out to DC just to hang out with Ruby and me for a weekend! Thanks to Sean who joined the four ladies in NYC, and who didn’t feel like a fish out of water. And thanks to Amy for taking the train into the city from Long Island to spend time with an old friend.

Many friends warned me about traveling to India; yet, there was the occasional acquaintance that raved about how amazing the Indian sub-continent was. My mom and I have had India on our “to visit” list for years, and we finally decided it was time to see what all the warning and rave was all about. Nothing, I mean nothing can prepare one for India. I consider myself a seasoned world traveler, and a global citizen (having lived on six continents in the last ten years), yet I was truly unprepared for my first contact with India. On the surface, India is colorful, vibrant, full of life, and incredibly diverse. Dig slightly deeper and one finds extreme poverty, high rates of morbidity and under/mal-nutrition, exploitation, dilapidated infrastructure, and extreme over-population. India’s government has not instituted a strict family planning policy limiting child births, as its neighbor China imposed decades ago when concerns about over-population arose. In several states, like Uttar Pradesh, the government has launched efforts to reduce fertility rates with impressive results; however, nation-wide India’s fertility rate remains dangerously high. Considering I only spent two weeks in India, my assessment of this vast and diverse country is only cursory and anecdotal at best. I’m not sure if I’ll visit India again, given that I saw more “death” and “dying” than in any other place I have visited or lived (keep in mind that I lived in Nigeria for over two years and only saw a total of two corpses on the roadside). There are certainly amazing historic places to visit in India, which are worthwhile and impressive, but it takes quite a bit of heartache to arrive at these sites. For instance, to visit the Brahma Temple in Pushkar (the only one of its kind in the world), we had to step over dying bodies, cattle dung, streams of raw sewage, and escape the hounding hawkers that do not take no for an answer. This is merely one example of many during our trip through Rajasthan, Goa, and New Delhi.

In spite of the heavy traffic, the incessant harassment of street vendors and hawkers, the crooked guides and drivers who cheat tourists by taking them to carpet factories with inflated prices, the cattle dung littered practically everywhere, the spewing raw sewage, the piles of decaying garbage, the sick, morbid, and dying people on the streets and in villages, and the plethora of stray dogs with mangled limbs, India is home to an amazing history. During my two weeks on the sub-continent, I had an unforgettable “wow” moment. Although this may sound cliché, I must say that when I finally found myself standing directly in front of the Taj Mahal my heart skipped a beat and I actually held my breath for a moment. My mom and I were both rendered speechless by the sheer magnificence of this pearl-white structure. Never have I been so impressed by a physical building. I’ve been fortunate enough to have visited many of the world’s wonders, but never has one left me speechless. Perhaps this was because I had just finished reading a 400+ page historical novel relating the Moghuls’ territorial gains in India, and Emperor Shah Jahan’s undying love for his second wife, who died bearing his 14th child, and his promise to erect a  tomb that would resemble “paradise on Earth” for his beloved Mumtaz Mahal. Fully understanding Emperor Shah Jahan’s loss and his dedication to building the most unique and beautiful tomb in the world for his beloved late wife, I was taken aback by the aura of this structure…words do not give justice to the beauty that is the Taj Mahal.

After a 25-hour journey from Ha Noi, Viet Nam to Kampala, Uganda (three layovers later), four colleagues and I traveled eight hours by land to one of Uganda’s most well known reserves, Murchison Falls National Park. The ride was rough, mainly on red earth that had been hardened by years of human traffic. Our small van kicked up a great deal of dust as we drove by small villages, as small children waved feverishly at the “whites” passing by.

By the time we arrived at the lovely Paraa Lodge, overlooking the meandering crocodile and hippo-infested Nile River, we were wiped out from the long journey. Fortunately, the lodge had all the comforts of home: cold beer, comfortable beds, and great food! We rested well and woke up at the wee hours of the morning to venture out onto the lush grasslands on safari, searching for Africa’s big game. As luck would have it, we saw all big game that live in the immense national park. About an hour into the safari, one of my colleagues spotted a lion in the grassland. We were able to track the lion all the way to his den, where his pride rested with several cubs. Our group was absolutely mesmerized by the close encounter with the pride. We gazed with fascination for nearly 30 minutes.

In the afternoon, we took a lovely riverboat on the Nile and made it as close as possible to the famous Murchison Falls, where the water becomes white with froth from the intense force of the water fall. The scene was amazing! We saw elephants and cape buffalo grazing at the edge of the Nile, as crocodiles soaked in the sun meters away, and hippos propped their ears and eyes above the surface of the water. At one moment, I counted 11 crocodiles swimming in a V-shaped formation slighted under the surface of the water. The rickety riverboat did not appear to be very sea worthy and all I kept thinking was “If this things sinks, we are all croc meat.”

After three days of glorious nature, wild game, comfy lodges, and blue skies, we returned to Kampala for a 7-day conference. I won’t bore anyone with the summary of that meeting, since the highlight of our trip to Uganda was the safari at Murchison Falls.

Two of the world’s new seven world wonders (as voted by the global population) are in Viet Nam. Lucky us! We had the opportunity to visit one of those two world wonders in May, with the excuse that my parents were coming to visit and of course, they would be interested in at least witnessing one of these great wonders. Out of the two, Sapa and Ha Long Bay, we chose to visit the latter. We really are “water” people, and although Sapa’s green valleys and terraces are misty, we were yearning to spend some time on the sea. The photographs will do much justice to our experience in Ha Long Bay, but a brief description of the luxurious junk we slept on for two nights is in order. The French owned and operated “Bhaya” Cruise is a replica of an Asian junk, except that inside you find exquisite colonial furniture, twenty small yet very romantic cabins, and a dining room with floor to ceiling windows, allowing the guests to take in the inspiring view composed of limestone mounds that jet out of the turquoise blue colored sea. Although the sea was full of very large (the size of a soccer ball) jellyfish, all of us did some night swimming while many guests, my dad included, fished for squid from the lower deck of the Bhaya.

On the second day of our lovely cruise in Ha Long Bay, we were transferred to a smaller day junk that toured us around the immense bay. While the crew prepared our lunch of fresh calamari, fish, and stuffed crab, we ventured out in the sea and parked our kayaks on the deserted white-sand beaches. Fortunately, the jellyfish were not much of a nuisance and we were able to swim through the turquoise water without any worries.

After our cruise in Ha Long Bay, we took my parents to one of our favorite places in Viet Nam…Hoi An. Chadi and I visited Da Nang and Hoi An, located on the central coast on what is known as “China Beach”, last November during the cyclone season. Now in May, the beaches of Hoi An and Da Nang were as gorgeous as we had seen in the travel magazines. We spent four days in the Swiss Belle Resort in Hoi An, swimming in their incredibly long (150 meters in length at least!) beach front swimming pool. My mom and I had some time to get several finely tailored dresses and coats in Hoi An town, while the boys drove around in rented motorcycles. It was very sad to say goodbye to the warm waters of China Beach, but alas, it was time to go back to Ha Noi and get back to work

Ever wonder why Bali is referred to as the Island of the Gods? It’s quite simple. In Bali, there is a Hindu temple every 10 meters. There are more temples in Bali than people, it seems. Community temples, large and magnificent, as well as smaller, more humble family temples line all roads in Bali (except in the central district of Kuta, where there are more knock-off shops than people!).

Before arriving in Bali, a few travel mates and I stopped off in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia’s modern capital, for three days. Although I had been in KL before on a previous trip to Borneo, I was delighted to be back. KL is one of the most modern and lovely Asian cities, boasting upscale shopping malls, mega-theatres, lovely “walks”, gardens, street cafes, and cheap Indian and Malay eats. And of course, there is nothing as lovely as the Petronas Towers (or the “twin towers” as they are referred to by the locals) against the backdrop of the evening sky.

Although we had a lovely time in KL, I was eager to get to Bali, an island I had yet to discover. In contrast with the cold winter days of Ha Noi, Bali was a tropical wonderland. My body required no adjustment; it just reveled in the warmth of the Balinese weather. The first few days were spent in Kuta, a tourist trap of sorts, but a worthwhile visit. The resort we settled in was romantic, to say the least, and just doors down from a spectacular Balinese spa where some of us enjoyed a nice rubdown. After Kuta, we headed to the center of the island to the town of Ubud, a spectacular little place with lots of character and amazing energy. Ubud is home to the infamous Monkey Forest of Bali, a nature reserve where monkeys enjoy the wild, yet are protected from illegal activities that would decimate their populations (such as poaching). The monkeys here are incredibly friendly, and will even climb all over you if you allow it.

Ubud is really a cultural center where one can enjoy traditional Balinese dancing, influenced heavily by Hindi traditional dance. The costumes and makeup are elaborate, as well as the Hindu-heavy story lines. Garuda, the God of all birds, is a prominent figure in many traditional performances, as well as carvings and temple art.

After hanging out in Ubud for two days, we headed East to the coast where we spent four sun-soaked days at the low-key beach town of Sanur. My travel mate and I were able to negotiate a great two-story suite for a discounted price, so we felt like princesses in a white beachfront castle. In Sanur, I spent much of my time on the beach, in the pool, and on the beach again under a tree receiving massages, facials and pedicures from some of the local women. Apparently, since the bombings in Kuta, the tourism industry never quite picked up again. Many of these locals who once made a living off of the booming industry are now struggling to feed their children. I can’t say I didn’t want all of those massages and facials, but a big part of me visited these women on the beach every day because doing so provided them with some extra income.

Before leaving Bali and heading back to bitterly cold Ha Noi, I took the opportunity to go rafting. I must say, Bali is a magical place. Although I’ve rafted in beautiful places before, like Argentina, Australia, and the Grand Canyon, the landscape could not have been more gorgeous. The river winded down dense jungles and beautifully terraced rice paddies. Impressive waterfalls and black jagged rocks lined the river, and after section of rough water, came cool, transparent, cool flows of river.

Our last day in Bali was a sad one. The thought of leaving this lush, friendly island paradise and heading back to the cold days of Ha Noi was sobering, but I have to say, I love living in Viet Nam and I feel very fortunate to have been assigned to such an interesting and lively post.