http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=&k=0&t=0&d=0 I would read that. en-en http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site//img/bf-57.png http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=&k=Array&t=0&d=0 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5465 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5465 Taiwan only really entered the (written) history books in the 17th century, when the Dutch and Portuguese were vying for supremacy in south east Asia, originally calling the island Formosa, the Portuguese for 'beautiful'.
The island had been occupied for perhaps thousands of years, but also the Chinese came late to the party, but the original austronesian inhabitants, related to the Malay, Indonesians as well as Malagasy, now only make up 2% of the population.

Taiwan ended up in its current political form when in 1949 Chiang Kai Shek, leading the nationalists, fled to the island from mainland China, effectively being defeated by the communists under Mao in the civil war of the 30s and 40s. Originally quite authoritarian, Taiwan saw its political climate thaw in the 80s and 90s, now being one of the most prosperous Asian countries.
Also interesting, the Taiwanese calendar counts from 1911, when in mainland China the Republic of China was established. And, of course, their spats with mainland China has installed some pride in the Taiwanese, officially calling their country the Republic of China, as compared to mainland China's People's Republic of China.

First impressions of Taipei are, not surprising, it feeling like a mix of China and Japan. Jean Luc Goddard drove around Tokyo for its futuristic aspects in his film Alphaville, but he could also have chosen the highways of Taiwan. In a paleofuturistic kind of way.
But the city also feels a bit dilapidated, run down. Perhaps because the majority of those living in Taipei believed from the start their visit would only be temporary and never really felt the need to take ownership of their surroundings. And perhaps the city is such a mix of peoples there's too little of a shared sense of community.

A touring Star Trek exhibition is currently visiting Taipei, so of course I had little choice, though the thing felt more like cobbled together by a few friends, with a bunch of clothes and (copies of) props thrown in for good measure. And there was no mention of the latest film.
But there's plenty to do, both in and close to town. I had considered going on a bit of a road trip on the island, but ended up not straying too far. The zoo, for one, is pleasant and surprisingly cheap, as are most of the museums. Then, the nearby fishing village Danshui is terribly popular for weekend breaks and the, also nearby, Xinbeitou hot springs are a must for their affordability and setting.

The best part of the city is the wide, superb and affordable variety of food.

I spent an excellent day with one of the hashes in Taipei. We ran on the coast and through the woods, being eaten alive by hornets. I got stung three times, the unlucky ones had to nurse over two dozen successful attacks.]]> Sat, 08 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0200 25.0344 121.565 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5464 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5464 The draw in Tagaytay is an island on a lake on an island on a lake on an island. And while the vast majority of tourists in the nearby town of Tagaytay are Philippinos, tourists taking the trip up the crater to see the innermost matryoshka are south East Asian, mostly Japanese and Korean. In fact, I not even saw a handful of foreigners during my two day stay.
The views of the lake, on the island, are nice, but a bit too distant from Tagaytay to be overwhelming. And getting to the island with the island on the lake, is surprisingly cumbersome, though the whole venture can be had on an organized, and fairly reasonably priced tour. Well, reasonable if you're not traveling alone, when the six-person boat stays quite empty. But, with no backpackers around, sharing the journey isn't easily an option.

In between the many rainy days at the start of the rainy season, my day spent getting to the innermost island was a scorcher. All south East Asian tourists took horses up to the edge of the ridge, but I walked. An achievement is only an achievement if you suffer for it. And I did. The overpriced sodas and beers on the ridge were a welcome welcome.

On the crater's ridge, you can practice your golf skills, driving balls into the innermost lake.]]> Tue, 04 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0200 14.073 120.99 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5463 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5463 You can't go to the Philippines and not check out a cock fight.

Appropriately, bouts are staged in cockpits, where the quite brutal duels are executed in quick succession. However, it's not the duels themselves that impress, or disgust for that matter. Considering how horribly the vast majority of fowl and livestock is abused in commercial institutions in the west, two roosters going at it with a knife tied to one of their legs is terribly tame, and of an inconsequential scale, in comparison.
What is overwhelming, almost threatening, is the tornado of betting odds that all spectators shout around, wildly gesticulating to indicate which of the two cocks they are taking bets for and at what rate. From a quiet, mellow, lounging crowd, within sconds of the cocks starting to ready up, showing their relative strengths, the pit erupts in an ear shattering, pulsating madness of shouts and movement, almost all men (and only men) wildly gesticulating across the room.
Then, after the cocks have been let loose, but only when the first attacks start, does the madness die down.

At the start of a bout, the cocks are carried into the ring, with the knifes, attached to the backs of their left claws, sheathed. Most often, each cock's minder is accompanied by a second minder carrying a second cock, used to antagonize the fighter by forcefully pushing the two on top of each other, allowing them to poke their beaks at each other, in the hope the heightened adrenaline levels will aid the fighter in overcoming his adversary. It made me think of fluffers during porn shoots.
Then, the fighters are carried to the center of the pit, the knives are unsheathed, for a few seconds, the cocks are allowed to peck at each other, still being held by their minders, before they are released.

To, often enough, peck away at imaginary corn seeds on the floor of the pit.

But only for a few seconds, after which they go at each other with extreme aggression, flaring the feathers around their necks. Jumping up in the air, pushing their claws forward, with the intention to rip open their opponent with their robocop-like addition.
Fights are over in seconds rather than minutes. One of the cocks will be cut badly, sinking down on the ground, unable to move or simply dead. Occasionally, the cocks might have their feathers or legs intertwined, requiring the referee to pick them up by the necks, after which he'll bounce one or both up and down, to test whether they can still stand on their own legs. If not, he'll drop the incapacitated one and declare the other the winner.
Settling the bets, money is then thrown around in crumpled up packets from one loser to winner, or from loser to middleman.

The cockpit is a surprisingly open affair, the stadium more resembling a boxing rink, with the actual pit elevated, surrounded by a glass fence. In the corners of the pit, little glass cubicles allow the minders, who stay in the rink during the fight, to hide for cover, if needed.
Natural light streams in through the roof.

Above the ring, two square boxes indicate the two sides at play. "Meron", meaning "they have", and "Wala", meaning "nothing". For many of the games, the "Meron" box is lit up, meaning that side has the advantage, influencing the bets and payouts for the spectators. Back in the day, no such signage existed, and a sombrero was used, handed out to the financer of the cock with the advantage. One side would have the sombrero on their head, the other would have nothing.

The betting, if overpowering when happening around you, appears surprisingly egalitarian. Everyone is their own man, the floor is open to all. However, the low tech nature of the betting, the shouting and gesticulating, could easily be replaced by a tiny bit of tech, a simple smartphone app, say, syncing odds and amounts through a central server, which would allow for peace and quiet and, more importantly, much more money changing hands.

Strangely, there appear to be no fights on Saturdays, while on Sundays, the fights start as early as 8am. On my way to the cockpit, getting closer, I saw more and more owners traveling and arriving, mostly by motorbike taxi or trishaw, with their cocks in specially prepared, tough, but airy, cardboard boxes.
The walls of the cockpit, both inside and out, are covered with large canvasses announcing big upcoming events, with 2000 euro entry fees and 1000 euros minimum bets. These numbers apply to the financiers, the owners of the cocks, whose playing and betting is completely separate from the bets that are taken outside of the ring.
For prize money, the fastest kill is rewarded handsomely, but so is, typicallyt and strangely, the fifth fastest kill and, at some bouts, the 9th fastest kill.
Slow starters, with the slowest kill, get a consolation prize.

During my visit, one of the fights resulted in a tie, both cocks incapacitated, generating lots of surprised commotion from the crowd. Fights are ended after 10 minutes with no winner, which also happened once during my visit.

Sadly, taking photos was not allowed, even though everything was filmed by some guy, a few small steps up from an amateur. The feed was shown at something of a waiting/catering area, where owners and financers hang out with their cocks, awaiting their turns. I was told to keep my camera in my bag. But, there's the iPad, even though, in the far corner of the stadium, I still was quickly spotted.]]> Mon, 03 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0200 14.5493 121.005 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5462 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5462 Apparently, there is no easy way to get out of Manila's main international airport. Asking several staff, the only suggested option was taking a cab, something I typically try to avoid, specifically when leaving airports.
I probably was messed over, though there was no real way I could have avoided it. I took an official cab and paid the metered price. At 14 euros for just over 8km, it was an annoyingly expensive ride.
But it could have been worse. Though the ride apparently should have cost 5 or 6 euros, another less lucky fellow was charged 30.

Manila appears a quite pleasant city, not too different from Bangkok, if perhaps more laid back. Certainly affordable, people are friendly, while a vast majority speaks English. Not nearly as humid as Singapore, while public spaces are policed in quite similar fashion as compared to the city state. But, thankfully, the Philippines are not a police state.
Here and there, impressive but fading architecture hides between city blocks bustling with energy, 7/11 supermarkets, and a host of national and international fast food chains.

Buying a drink from a hole in the wall, I was welcomed with a "What's yours"?

The worst reachable airport in the world

Depending on your terminal and arrival time, Manila's main airport can already be quite the hassle, though it appears that taxis don't have a tendency to rip you off when going there. Though this mostly might simply be due to most drivers being fairly honest, while the dishonest ones congregate at the airport, as they servicing the airport can be like structurally hitting the jackpot.

But the worst is left for Clark international airport. In true budget airline style, this one is claimed to be Manila's second international airport, even though its nearly 100 kilometers away from town. AirAsia and a few other budget airlines fly from here, but none offer an even somewhat easy connection between the airport and the city.
There is one bus company which links up Manila with Clark directly. But, when I showed up at their sales counter, 4.5 hours before my flight's scheduled departure time and an hour before the bus was supposed to leave, I was told I should instead use another bus company which served the nearby town, reputedly, hourly. The clerk feared that their bus would not have enough time to clear Manila traffic and get to the airport in time for me to reach my flight.

Off I trundled, in search for another bus terminal.

Already finding the first terminal was a bit of trouble. The bus company doesn't specify on their website where it is, only mentioning the suburb. So, I asked the ladies at my hostel, who had a knack for not letting me finish my sentences.

"So, I'm going to Clark airport tomorrow. And I understand that Philtranco runs a shuttle between Manila and Clark."
"Yes?"
"They claim their bus leaves from MegaMall and Pasau, and..."
"MegaMall is very far. Take Pasau."
"Yes, well, I know where MegaMall is, but I don't know where in Pasay..."
"Pasau is right here, very easy."
"Yes, well, I will still have to know where in Pasay I will have to take the bus..."
"Pasau is right here, is very easy. You just go."
"Just go... Where?
"To Pasay. You need to take bus from Pasay, yes?
"Do *you* know where I might be able to find the bus terminal in Pasay?"
"You just go and ask. Everyone will know. Then you take jeepney." A jeepney being someone of a shared taxi, almost identical to the Thai songthaew.

Finding the right terminal and starting at the south side of town, it took an hour just to get to the north side of Manila, which I could have reached in 10 minutes by metro, instead of the 2 hours it had taken now.
At the Dau bus terminal, Day being the town fairly close to Clark, but still perhaps 10 kilometers from the airport, time was starting to run out, there were no taxis in evidence. Absurd, but confirmed by several of the workers at the bus station. I could take a jeepney, waiting for it to fill up, or rent the whole jeepney, which seats a dozen or so, myself. Or I could take a motorbike taxi to the 'Main gate'. I opted for the latter.
The 'Main gate' turned out to be the town's short distance bus station, perhaps still some 6 or 7 kilometers from the airport. Here, I still had to take a jeepney, renting the whole thing with three fellow passengers just to get us going.

I eventually arrived just under an hour before my scheduled departure, covering the 95 kilometers from hostel to airport in just under 4 hours and 15 minutes.

Then, adding insult to injury, i was charged a 9 euro 'Teminal tax' upon departure.

Clark was, until 1991, the largest American air base outside of the US, the States having played a somewhat unsavory role in Philippine politics before then. The airport was refurbished and reopened as the capital's second international airport two years later.]]> Sun, 02 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0200 14.5652 120.999 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5461 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5461 Primarily a visit to a good friend, who turns out to both have a pregnant partner and getting married in six weeks, I found Singapore nice, if overly organized, sterile almost, and amazingly expensive. We contemplated going to a quiz night, where pints go for 18 euros. Instead, I ran along with two hashes, meaning good company, affordable drinks, and getting acquainted with somewhat less usual parts of the country.

With the country's diverse ethnic make up, it's easy to find almost any type of cuisine in the city state. And though it's easy to spend a lot on food and drinks, there are also plenty of affordable road side eateries, of which some would say they're the best place to get your foodie thrills.

Singapore's major downside is it operating as a police state. As long as you stay in line you won't notice a thing, but fall between 1984s cracks and you might end up with a whipping.]]> Thu, 30 May 2013 00:00:00 +0200 1.28972 103.855 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5460 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5460 Clearly, Hong Kong served as a model for the newly developed cities of China, while Hong Kong seems to have had its initial architectural boom in the 60s and 70s, judging from the style and decay of many of hte high rises.
The city has very much been built on top of itself, with a diverse local community from all over Asia. My accommodation, in the heart of Kowloon, just across the bay from Hong Kong proper, sees more Africans, Philippinos and Indians than Chinese walk in and out.

McDonald's, Starbucks and many other boring fast food joints are all over the place. At night, madams tuck at your arms and keep on insisting that you have to check out the girls before going to bed. "You are a young man, right?"
I'm told that if you spend 1000 dollars in one of the nudie bars, you get a complimentary on-site blowjob thrown in.

Within 45 minutes of arriving in Hong Kong, taking the bus from Guangzhou through a country side covered in factories owned by Hong Kong Chinese, I was off on a hash, skirting the border with China in a torrential monsoon rain.

I unluckily had too much rain while in Hong Kong, the weather only clearing up on the day I had to leave. A pity, as the best views of the city are from the hills on the southern side of town. Using a tram to go up the hills, climbing an incline which at times makes a neat 45 degrees, all I saw was a white mist while being drenched by pouring rain.
But I could have known. In the morning, the first 'black cloud' warning in two years was raised. Within 24 hours, 500mm of rain poured from the skies.
]]> Fri, 24 May 2013 00:00:00 +0200 22.293 114.17 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5459 http://babakfakhamzadeh.com/site/index.php?c=12&i=5459 Guanghzou's province, Guangdong, is what gave the world the name Canton. Trading with the Europeans for hundreds of years, it was here that the Portuguese and Brits set up shop, claiming bits and pieces as their own turf.
Macau, filled to the brim with casinos, is now taking in more money than Las Vegas, while Hong Kong is living a precarious existence, perhaps slowly sliding into the state controlled straight jacket the rest of the country is challenged with. Guangzhou, meanwhile, is slowly attaining more freedom of movement.

Guangzhou under communism already had a less stringent connection with the west, annual trade fairs being the odd flirtation with capitalism and it is also here where, now, most of the Africans importing from China to their home country set up shop.

The small Shamian Island, in the Pearl river, was once under control of the French and Brits, used as a staging ground for their trade with China. With somewhat older architecture, the island still sports a faint hint of Europe and is popular for its leafy streets, packed with wedding couples and fashion shoots.

Arriving in a fiercely air conditioned train, I was wearing a sweater when I stepped onto the station's platform, only to be slapped in the face by tropical humidity.
]]> Sun, 19 May 2013 00:00:00 +0200 23.1244 113.23