Two of the Weirder Stories from Today's 'China Daily'

I love reading the China Daily, China's english language newspaper / propaganda rag.  Two stories from this morning stand out. 

The first story was headlined "7 Imprisoned in Kidney Trading Case".  It appears a Hunan teenager sold one of his kidneys in exchange for an iPad and an iPhone - they paper did not indicate what he previously traded his brain for.  A surgeon and a few others will do 5 years each.

The second story involved wild animal poaching and the consumption of exotic creatures in Chinese restaurants.  The acticle was not remarkable, but I now know that the market price for monkey brain is $115 a pound.

Blowfish Soup Anyone?

Simply dining in China could make a fine episode of "Fear Factor".  I must admit I never actually watched that program, but I caught short glimpses of it while channel surfing on many occasions - I couldn't help pausing for a moment or two on the sight of a woman eating live worms.  Anyway, Fear Factor seemed to focus largely on making contestants eat things that were disgusting, but not necessarily dangerous - the network has lawyers after all.  In China, the stakes get somewhat higher.

Yesterday at lunch, a seafood restaurant, Larry and I were walking past the tanks of live fish deciding which will live and which will die when we came upon a tank of puffer fish.  Larry asked if I wanted to try this, and knowing well that he sometimes tries to get me to eat things he would not try himself, I made sure he will be having the same - he agreed.

After placing our order, something began to gnaw at me.  There was something about eating puffer fish that was dangerous, but I couldn't remember what it was.  I asked Larry if he knew about the dangers of eating this fish, to which he replied "Ah yes, will kill you if not prepared by expert".  to which he added "Don't worry, I eat here once before and I not die".  Thanks Larry, I feel much better now.

Say hello to lunch!

Puffer fish, or blow fish as they are also called contain a strong neurotoxin in certain organs and their skin, and they have to be prepared by an expert chef to remove the deadly parts without accidentally contaminating the meat.  The toxin is powerful, and will completly paralyse a person but leave him fully conscious, at least until he stops breathing.  There is no antidote, and the only chance for survival is to place the victim on life support until the toxin is metabolized.  Bon appetit!

My puffer fish arrived in a bowl, complete with head, tail and all, taking his last swim as it were in a tasty, creamy seafood broth with tofu and chives.  Sadly, when cooked he no longer looked puffy, but rather deflated like a flat tire.  I thought about declining, but after learning that only 50 or so people die every year from eating this fish across all of Asia, I figured the odds were probably greater that I would die today from one of Shanghai's many other dangers, like Larry's driving for example.  I ate it, some of it at least.  The fish tasted rather like fish, unremarkable I thought, and difficult to separate the meat from whatever was holding onto it - we'll call it the innertube.  And after a half hour or so, pleased that I could still feel and move my extremities, we declared lunch a success.  I will live to see another day...

Whoa! Do I Want WHAT?

Sitting in a nicer than normal drinking establishment in Shanghai last night after dinner, watching a DVD of a Live Aid concert on the oversized flat screen above the bar, one of the bar girls tapped me on the shoulder and said something into my ear that I could not make out - the music was pretty loud.  "What?", I said, "I couldn't hear you".  This time she yelled "You wanna head?"  Wow, I thought, that's pretty down to business.

I am sorry to say my mind went straight to the gutter, but even in China this is not a normal approach from a girl who looked more interested in hustling drinks than anything else.  "What did you say?" I asked, hoping to clarify - my mind was pretty confused by this point.   "I say, you wanna head?  Uck head?" she yelled back over a blaring Bono.  "Uck head?  What the hell is uck head?" I asked back.  She started pantomiming something with her hands that looked like a clam shell opening and closing.  "Wack, wack wack" she said as she opened and closed the clam shell over and over.  WTF?  Wack?  Head?  This can't be right, I thought.

I am sure that my face displayed complete bewilderment as she rolled her eyes at my total lack of comprehension.  She quickly walked around the bar, reached into a small fridge and whipped out a plastic bag of something I could not make out through the condensation.  She reached into the bag and pulled out a roasted duck head. "Oh!  DUCK head?  Do I want to eat a duck head!" I said, blushing by this point.  Boy did I have that wrong.

 "Um, no thanks... Had dinner already..."

She and another girl had one each.  I tried not to look...

Welcome to (cough) Shanghai (cough, wheeze, cough...)



A typical morning sky,  shot from the Ramada Gateway Plaza


 In most of the world we have two primary sky colors; blue and gray, and you can go to sleep secure in the knowledge that tomorrow, you are quite likely to be looking at one or the other.  In Shanghai, however, you have a few more possibilities. This morning the sky was an odd yellowish brown color.  Yes, you read that right and I am not exagerating, the sky was f&%$@#$ brown, and the air carried with it a vague chemical odor.  All those years of smoking I did may have done less damage to my lungs than just breathing in Shanghai.

You Know You Travel Too Much When...

There are times when you want to be recognized, like when you pass through the doorway of your grandmother's house, or a favorite restaurant.  It's a good feeling to know you are in familiar surroundings and are welcomed.  This is one of the things community is based on.

 In some situations, however, recognition could be a sign you are quite frankly doing too much of something.  There are any number of doorways you can walk past where your don't want to hear your name yelled from within; donut shops, strip clubs, liquor stores, rehab centers... the list could go on.  I am really OK with vices and bad habits, but like all things moderation is the key.  Too much of anything will kill you.

So where am I going with this?  Today I arrived at the Delta ticket counter in Minneapolis to check a bag for my trip to Shanghai, and the ticket agent knew my name before I even handed him my boarding pass.  Perhaps he just has an extraordinary memory, or maybe this is a sign of something.  I am not calling travel a vice, heck this is my job after all, but this does make one thing clear - I am spending a lot of time in airports... 

By Request - More Pictures from Recoleta Cemetery

Most days while traveling for work end up being long ones.  It's not uncommon to leave the hotel by 7:00 am and not return until 8:00 at night, and then spend 2-3 hours getting caught up on emails.  Some trips offer no time for sightseeing at all, so days like this one in Buenos Aires are really appreciated.

All photos were taken with an iPhone on a mostly overcast day.  I am overall impressed with the quality of this built-in camera.

Two Free Hours in Buenos Aires

I was lucky enough during my two days in Buenos Aires to squeeze in a couple of hours of sightseeing in between meetings and dinner.  My hotel was near Recoleta Cemetery, and since this is one of the more famous places in this city, and as rain was threatening, I thought this the best place to go.  I was not disappointed.

Recoleta Cemetery is the resting place of most every famous Argentinean from Eva Peron to Luis Firpo.  It is filled with above ground family tombs, some hundreds of years old, some more modern.  Some pictures follow.

A Few Pictures from the Taj Mahal

I promised these a while back...

A Noisy Night in Buenos Aires

I was warned the day before that this would happen, but on the night I arrived in Buenos Aires last week, massive street protests against the government had been planned.  Violent crime, runaway inflation and endemic corruption have become major issues in this country and more than a few Argentinians appear to be fed up.  My hotel was around a mile from the gathering points, but there were many people marching past the hotel carrying flags, banging on pots and pans and shouting.  As interesting as this would have been to see up close, I thought it best to stay inside the hotel (dissidents have not always been warmly greeted by the Argentine government).

The following day, the government estimated the crowd to be around 700,000 people.  All remained peaceful.

To Push, or Not to "Puxe"?

As I am approaching a door with my Brazilian colleague in Sao Paulo, I see a sign on the door which reads "PUXE".  I asked my friend "how do you pronounce that?", to which she replies "Poosh".  Of course, push!  I march into the door and give it a vigorous push but the door doesn't move, I slam face-first into it, and my friend is practically peeing her pants laughing.  "WTF?"  As it turns out, "puxe" may sound like "push", but it means "pull".

It's funny how the brain works some times.  I now know that the portuguese word "puxe" means to pull, But every time I approach a door in Brazil with a "puxe" sign on it, I still want to push...



Found the image at http://www.scottkirkwood.com/2007_09_01_archive.html.  Fitting!

My Brazilian colleague has the same problem in America, except when she sees a "push" sign, she pulls...





Brazil Haiku #1

Driving through Brazil

Finally out of traffic

Oh S#!%, a speed bump!

Most places around the world use speed bumps to prevent accidents in high traffic areas like parking lots, apartment complexes, schools, etc...  In Brazil, not only are the speed bumps huge, but they are everywhere; before and after nearly every insection, in the middle of open stretches of rural roads, randomly placed in towns and countryside alike.  It seems like you never get up to the posted speed limit for long before - "Damn - another one!".  And it's not like you can just glide over them - not unless you want to compress your spine, break your teeth and perforate the roof of the car with your skull.  My local colleague tells me that without these in place, people in Brazil drive too fast and have too many accidents.  Maybe this is true, maybe not, but they do add considerably to the amount of time it takes to get anywhere. 

A Few More Pictures from Atibaia, Brazil

They don't play "slug bug" in Brazil...  Too bad!

A fixer-upper

Caipirinha - Maybe the Perfect Drink on a Hot Day!

I was introduced to the caipirinha on my first trip to Brazil and I was hooked!  I am not sure why I like this drink so much.  Perhaps it is the right combination of tart and sweet.  Maybe it's just the simplicity of it - lime, sugar and cane rum and ice - thats basically it. But sitting at a rickety sidewalk table outside of a bar in Brazil on a warm sticky tropical evening, it just tastes perfect! 

Welcome to Atibaia, Brazil (closed on Sundays)

I arrived in Sao Paulo on an overnight flight from Minneapolis via New York.  I managed some fitful intermittent sleep on the plane thanks to Vicodin, but arrived drowsier than ever, probably thanks again to Vicodin...  My contact in Brazil mercifully met me at the airport,  and after a quick breakfast of I don't remember and holy s#!$ strong coffee, she dropped me at the tiny Vilaverde Hotel in Atibaia (pronounced ah-chee-bye'-ah). 

This hotel room, typical in Brazil I am told has no alarm clock, a door which uses metal keys, no hangers in the closet, the smallest TV I have seen in years, and several switches on the walls which seem to control nothing.  I asked for an iron and ironing board at the front desk - this required some pantomime, and the desk clerk arrived 30 minutes later with only a well worn iron.  His english is only slightly more useful than my 4 words of portuguese, but he apparently thought I had my own ironing board - the hotel has none.  I thought of asking "why do you have an iron but no ironing board?".  I really wanted to say "dude, did you see me carry in a f&*#!!) ironing board", but I thought it unproductive in the end as he could easily come kill me in my sleep.  I attempted instead to iron my clothes on the bathroom counter (not recommended) and eventually settled on steam from the shower.

By the way, I really like the hotel - the place is clean and the view is pretty nice!

Even in my groggy state I could not sleep so I decided to find some lunch.  I wandered the streets of Atibaia which is full or shops, restaurants and bars for a full hour- all of these are apparently closed on Sunday.  I did manage a bite at the hotel later.  Anyway it was a good walk around a scenic town.

Notice the shuttered doors and lack of people - kind of an "I am Legend" moment...



"All's well that ends well"...except for the headless guy!

News stories from the local paper are a good way to learn something about the culture wherever you travel.  Not quite sure what this one tells me about India, but you can judge for yourself.  I read this in the Hindustan Times last week while in Delhi:  Here is also a link to the online article  just incase you thought I was making this stuff up.

A Class 10 student, whose “death” triggered a spiral of violence in Bihar’s Madhubani district and left two people dead, was found in a south Delhi tea stall on Monday with his girlfriend.

The boy and the girl, both minors and classmates at Madhubani’s Indian Public School, eloped on September 7 as they come from different castes.


Their disappearance led to violence in their home district after the boy’s family mistook a headless body as his. Students and locals fought pitched battles with the police on October 11 and 12 and the opposition called a Bihar bandh on Monday.
“Their pictures were being flashed across Bihar-based TV channels,” said a police officer, who refused to be identified.
Mehrauli resident MN Jha, who is from Bihar, recognised them and alerted the police when he saw them at a tea stall, the officer said.
A police team, after verifying their identities, brought them to the Mehrauli police station. After leaving home, they went to Ranchi in neighbouring Jharkhand then to Jammu (Jammu and Kashmir) and from there, to Darjeeling in West Bengal, the teen couple told the police. Sunday they boarded the Brahmaputra Mail in Kolkata and arrived at the Old Delhi Railway Station at around 6.15am Monday.
“I have spoken to Mehrauli police officer Jarnail Singh. He has told me that the boy and a girl had been found,” Bihar DGP Abhayanand said.
The development blunted the opposition's attack, especially that of Lalu Prasad-led RJD, on the Nitish government. “All is well that ends well,” chief minister Nitish Kumar said in a statement.

OK - seriously, "All is well that ends well"?  What about the headless guy and the two people who died in the rioting - didn't end so well for them I dare say!