Finished reading the 50's Beat classic, On the Road (Jack Kerouac). I was on a train at the time though, hope that still counts.

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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Andulka
ojovivo

shark vs the universe
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
styofa doing anything
Show & Tell
will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Peter Solarz

Love Begins

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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#extradirty
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@jxwarren
Finished reading the 50's Beat classic, On the Road (Jack Kerouac). I was on a train at the time though, hope that still counts.
Vietnam, the land of infuriatingly complicated and unnecessary ways to drink coffee... Yes, that is a candle keeping my insanely sweet coffee warm for me. Yay?
Happy Breakfast! Yummy spicy pho' and coffee with (way too much) sweetmilk. Cost me 73,000VND in total... about $3.50. The thing on the left is a slow-ass Vietnamese one cup coffee drip which was the bain of my existence when I lived with Kristen and we both wanted coffee in the morning. Currently happy and sweating my face off ^^
Cambodia's Curse - The Modern History of a Troubled Land (Joel Brinkley)
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Time to get some historical perspective after the personal narrative of First the Killed my Father… A history of Cambodia from the ancient Khmer Empire all the up to the present day. #PulitzerPrize
First the Killed my Father - a daughter of Cambodia remembers
I bought this book a few weeks ago in Phnom Penh's crazy Russian Market, partly because I wanted to read it and partly because the beggar woman selling it was an acid burn victim whose whole face was melted. Getting used to ignoring the constant beggars and street peddlers is just part of life here, but in this case I didn't know what to do or where to look. Anyway, I decided to crack open the book today. 12 hours later I finished the whole thing.
"Yesterday I was playing hopscotch with my friends. Today we are running from soldiers with guns."
... off to bed now.
Questions go unanswered; no charge is ever levelled. Then suddenly your arms are bound and you are brought to the camp, where the first few days last a lifetime, and where the voice of revolt, little by little, dies away. You acquire patience and resignation; you learn to stop believing in your own innocence. How can someone be innocent if he’s in chains? And so you grow introspective, become aware of your selfishness, your irresponsibility… you meditate on your guilt, which you are ultimately prepared to admit, if only those in charge of the camp would be generous enough to devote a little of their precious time, despite the burden of their work, to your own humble situation.
The Gate, François Bizot
The only Western prisoner to survive the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia recalls his ordeal.
Field of Cosmos - (Ulsan, South Korea)
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Photo cred: Me
South Korea - Land of Identical Apartments (Ulsan, South Korea)
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A place where I got lost on a daily basis.
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Photo cred: Me
Mrs. Dalloway; p. 102-3
"Milly, would you fetch the papers?"
And Miss Brush went out, came back; laid papers on the table; and Hugh produced his fountain pen; his silver fountain pen, which had done twenty years' service, he said, unscrewing the cap. It was still in perfect order; he had shown it to the makers; there was no reason, they said, why it should ever wear out; which was somehow to Hugh's credit, and to the credit of the sentiments which his pen expressed (so Richard Dalloway felt) as Hugh began carefully writing capital letters with rings round them in the margin, and thus marvellously reduced Lady Bruton's tangles to sense, to grammar such as the editor of the Times, Lady Bruton felt, watching the marvellous transformation, must respect.
Hugh was slow. Hugh was pertinacious. Hugh went on drafting sentiments in alphabetical order of the highest nobility, brushing the cigar ash from his waist-coat, and summing up now and then the progress they had made until, finally, he read out the draft of a letter which Lady Bruton felt certain was a masterpiece.
Could her own meaning sound like that?
Palo Alto - a film by James Franco that couldn't possibly disappoint
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Did you know James Franco is a writer? Of course he is. The man is perfect and better than you in all ways. Palo Alto is not just a fun indie flick but also a collection of short stories penned by the fingers of Franco himself. I MEAN.
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The film is directed by Gia Coppola who is some relation to Sofia Coppola and Francis Ford Coppola and the whole Coppola director/mafia family. Movie peeps must be an incestuous bunch because this film is packed with the offspring of celebs. Opposite Franco is Emma Roberts, of American Horror Story, the endearing daughter of Julia Roberts. Her love interest is played by Jack Kilmer, wee babe of Val Kilmer, who also appears in the film as Roberts's stoner/writer uncle.
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Anyway, it's a story about teen angst and fitting in and the crazy things people do and obviously it's from a fresh perspective because I mean James Franco. You should probably see it.
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Perfect for always.
Finally watched Boyhood, the much-anticipated indie time-lapse film.
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Have you seen those videos people keep posting on Youtube, like 'Boy/Girl/Whoever takes picture of self every day for 10/15/99 years!!!'? Pretty cool concept the first time it went around, but like all things internet, the idea quickly became as stale as the ice bucket challenge. Anyway, Boyhood is the indie film version of that. >
It was hyped muchly and I was quite excited to see it. It's definitely an original concept and it was really cool seeing all the actors, not just the main one, age steadily over a 12 year span. Sadly, a couple plot potholes take the viewer on a bumpy ride. I won't go into spoilers but the worst cliche for me was a scene where a middle-aged white woman tells an immigrant manual laborer after 2 seconds of meeting that he's "really smart" and should "pursue some higher education" and a few scenes later we meet him again and of course now he's the manager of a restaurant cuz he took her advice and went to night school and he's all like thanks white lady, you uplifted my life! Running this restaurant is my dream and it's all thanks to that 2 second meeting we had a few months ago! Are we really still spreading this tired narrative of never-ending white benevolence across the land, subtly implying that immigrants and people of colour aren't capable of running their own successful, non-tragic lives without friendly neighbourhood whitey sticking their nose in it and doling out their all-encompassing wisdom and guidance like a food stamp? I'm probably reading into things way too much as usual, but it just stuck out to me as such an obvious plot contrivance and took away from the authenticity of the story.
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Other than that, it was pretty good. The main boy gets really cute once he grows up. I wonder if they genetically tested the would-be child actors to determine how marketable their adult faces would be? I mean, jackpot.
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Perfect for a cloudy afternoon when you want to feel different and interesting.
Monk collecting alms - (Phnom Penh, Cambodia.)
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It's considered quite rude to snap photos of monks, but I couldn't help myself. This photo captures quite a few aspects of life in the Penh. Lush greenery, a tuk tuk parked off to the side, two guys on a moto, some trash, signs for Angkor beer, a street-food trolley, a Chinese restaurant, and a sign for some sketchy place called Crystal Lounge. This city is in a constant state of flux, a clash of old and new constantly colliding, and that's what makes it exciting.
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photo cred: me
Millipede crossing a branch - (Rabbit Island, Kep, Cambodia.)
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Came across this little creeper during a recent boat trip to Rabbit Island, a tiny speck in the sea near Kep with no wifi or cell service, and only an hour of electricity at night. We slept under a mosquito net in a bamboo bungalow on the beach and watched the sun rise through the palm trees in the morning. Its legs undulate like waves in the ocean.
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photo cred: me
How to Cross the Road in Phnom Penh – an Easy-to-Follow Guide for Hapless Foreigners
“But I’m an adult!” I hear you cry, “I don’t need to be told how to cross the road!” Your indignation isn’t lost on me, fellow traveler, but this ain’t your schoolyard cross-walk. This is South-East Asia, the in-your-face home of all things loud, exciting and dangerous. Heading to this part of the world for travel or work? Then you’ll need to learn to waltz through a daily moto-bike migration, a never-ending stampede that keeps cities like Phnom Penh and Sihanoukville bustling 24 hours a day. Think you can make like a chicken, one that crosses the road in one piece? You can do it, brave traveler, but you’ll need some help.
Crossing a busy road anywhere in the tropical sub-continent is no easy feat, and for new-comers to South-East Asia’s vibrant main cities, it can be a downright terrifying experience. If you don’t have a seasoned traveler to walk you through it the first time, you may find yourself losing your nerve and sweating along labyrinthine side-streets in the tropical heat just to avoid a busy main road, only to end up wandering full-circle. Cambodia is a place of excitement and freedom, and it has a road-safety record to match. Were you taught as a child that green, yellow and red do not all mean *FULL SPEED AHEAD!!!*? Well, at least you come from a country with street lights. Prepare yourself to enter a world of roaring, honking, and (very) near misses.
At busy times of day, the roads of South East Asia are host to a never-ending stampede of moto bikes, road bikes, dirt bikes, bicycle bikes, tuk-tuks, coconut sellers, food vendors, stray dogs, squished rats, and the occasional strung-out backpacker. Tourism has helped the local economy flourish in recent years, so the roads of major cities are now also host to an increasing number of relatively massive trucks, cars and SUVs. You can even spot the occasional out-of-place Escalade and other fancy imports, a definite luxury in this developing nation. Traditional city planning wasn’t necessarily meant to accommodate these larger vehicles, however, so the roads can feel a bit congested in their wake. Traffic generally flows along the road in the same direction, but nothing in South-East Asia is written in stone. What people in the West might call the gutter (or somewhere to put a side-walk), here is basically a no-man's land where motorbikes and cyclists can drive head-on against traffic. This is a place of wild freedom, and no one is going to punish a motorbike for driving the "wrong way". Within the flow of traffic, lanes and turning signals aren't really a big deal either, so drivers can pretty much weave and swerve wherever they want. So don’t be surprised – speeding vehicles can and will pop out at you from every possible direction. And during rainy season, flash monsoons might have you crossing through all of this in flood water a foot deep.
Time to throw out all the “road rules” you learned when you were six. This isn’t the time to rely on stop signs or traffic lights: you’re going to have to make your own way across this wild tuk-tuk hurricane. Stand firm, courageous traveler. Use this lawlessness to your advantage. Here are some pointers to guide you across the rebellious motorbike tornado of a large 3rd world street.
#1. Avoid fancy-looking SUVs.
These cars are owned by Cambodia's exclusive but steadily-growing elite class. These people are richer and better than you, and are probably on their cell phone. Unless you want to end up decorating the bottom of a Range Rover, you might want to avoid these glamorous vehicles and let them pass. Fancy SUVs automatically get the right of way.
#2. Don't bother waiting for a pause in traffic. There won't be one.
Want to stand awkwardly on a street corner all afternoon getting yelled at by tuk-tuk drivers? No, you don’t. Traffic isn't going to stop for you no matter how long you wait, just accept it. Pick yourself up and act confident, you're going to make it across this road on your own. Chin up traveller! Wait just long enough to make sure isn’t an enormous Lexus barreling towards you, and proceed to #3.
#3. Ignore everything your mother told you and walk straight into traffic.
Walk slowly and calmly at the traffic. Yes, AT the traffic. Just go for it. Make aggressive eye contact with every motorist heading towards you, and hope they'll make room for you as you make your way to the other side. Would you intentionally run down a pedestrian in your home country? Hopefully not, and hopefully your friendly neighborhood minibus driver won’t either. Cross your fingers for good luck, you might need it.
#4. This isn't Frogger!
Do NOT play a game of stop and go with every motorbike headed your way. You will die. Probably. Keep your head up and walk slowly and confidently in a straight line to the other side. Drivers will use common sense and figure out which side of you to pass on based on their speed and distance from you. This obviously isn't a precise mathematical calculation, but it works. Usually. Hope they have good depth perception!
#5. If absolutely necessary, pause briefly in the middle where the traffic changes directions.
If, for example, an aforementioned luxury SUV comes snarling down the road just as you reach the half way point, it might be in your best interest to take a tiny breather before finishing your cross. If you're super lucky, there might be some sort of physical divider there to give you a false sense of safety, but let's be honest, there probably won't be. Repeat steps #1 to #5 for the second half of the road, and hopefully you won’t end up like the chicken. Or the rat.
#6. Take a deep breath once you make it across.
You made it! Welcome to the other side. Good luck to you brave traveler! No lack of civic order shall bar your wayward path ever again. Meander on!
Why did the chicken cross the road? We’ll never know. It only got half way before being swept away in a sea of roaring motorbikes, honking tuk-tuks and overflowing minivans. Don’t be a chicken! Follow this guide and you are certain to achieve road-crossing success in Cambodia, the Kingdom of Wonder.
The end.
Finally finished reading Mrs. Dalloway, a story much like something Jane Austen might have written in a frenzied afternoon having hit the glass pipe at tea with Jack Kerouac.
I'm now living in Cambodia, the “Kingdom of Wonder.”
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Here's how it's going:
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So far I’ve had my Samsung smart phone and a pair of Thai flip-flops stolen, bonded with a local prozzie and wiped tears off her face in a bar before being asked “f*** with me!” (sorry sweety), been punched in the face at a party (possibly my fault), and been caught in a momentary monsoon on the back of a moto bike just long enough to show up dripping, soaking wet to my first job interview.
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The most important phrase I’ve learned so far is “no thanks!” (otte akoun), which I brandish as a shield to fend off the moto and tuk-tuk drivers lying in wait at every street corner.
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It’s been a time! Can't wait for more.
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photo cred: Google
The story of my first job interview in Cambodia.
I had my first job interview in Cambodia today at an English international school in Phnom Penh. It went like this:
1. Dug through the pile of wrinkles left in my suitcase-slash-nest, unearthed my stash of business casual. Carefully selected the least offensive grown-up clothes I could find.
2. Found a moto driver across the street and showed him the location I had carefully pre-marked on my map. He stared at it suspiciously, spun it around a bit, and got a few of his Khmer buddies to read it upside-down with him. Nodded a bit. Departed. Got lost. Got drenched in a freak 2-minute monsoon. Smelled fresh.
3. Showed up 15 minutes late looking like I’d showered in full dress. Was no longer worried about wrinkles.
4. Met with my charmingly crazed, cigarette-addled recruiter. Met with the school principal, who turned out to be an expat. Proceeded through an intense, Western-style, experience-based interview. Did not proceed through the chill, Cambodian meet ‘n greet hangout sesh I’d been lead to anticipate.
5. Exited the building an hour later, drained of all relevant work experience.
6. Waved vaguely in the street for a bit until a passing moto picked me up. Had no idea how to tell him where I lived. Went round the city in circles, map flailing in the wind. Finally made it home with the aid of a variety of street people and fought with the driver over the absurd fare he tried to charge me.
7. Went inside.
8. Researched work-from-home freelance jobs.
The end. Thank heavens ^^