ketch-up

recently i feel like my life has been a whirlwind punctuated with amazing highs [ie. trip to korea] and depressing lows [ie. struggling with my thumb injuries]. every now and then the winds die down and i can stick my head out of the kinetic riot of obligations and attractions to observe and relax.
recently in joetsu...
5/13/05 weekend
friday night the girls had a potluck with way too much food and way too many drinks.
on saturday we met up with a bunch of people at takada park. they played a game of ultimate frisbee, which handicap girls cannot participate in unfortunately. lucky for me, we found a great English-language bookstore in korea so i was armed with ‘memoirs of a geisha’, which is captivating. i soaked up the book and the sun for a while. later that evening we met at carrie’s and carpooled to a festival in myoko kogen. there were tons of food stalls and a stage with music acts.

the main event was the burning of a huge kanji character into one of the mountainsides. from what i gathered, it was the Japanese letter for ‘grass’. the burning kanji was followed by beautiful fireworks, which reminded us how romantic firework shows are and how boyfriendless we are.

afterwards we headed back downtown to a tiny bar carrie had recently discovered with a few of her teachers. they have 250 yen draft beer which is unheard of around here. a low-end draft will usually set you back 500 yen, about $5, at least.

on sunday we headed to kubiki, a nearby town, to plant some rice.

this is kazu, he studied agriculture in California so his English is great [along with his Spanish, as he worked with many migrant workers.]

he let us destroy his rice paddy…planting straight rows was terribly difficult, i was embarrassed at my zig-zagging lines… the day was cold, the water was freezing.

there were all sorts of creatures swimming around and i ended up with a leech on my leg. i nearly freaked out. the floor of the paddy is thick mud which made it tough to sprint out of the water when i realized my blood was being sucked. carrie and i. i had to bag my left hand as i still couldn't get it wet. pain in the...

kazu also let us take over his home for a bbq and party afterwards. he and chuck cookin' up yaki soba.

kazu is really progressive, outgoing and interesting. if he weren’t married… turns out he and his wife are friends with a young, cute p.e. teacher from one of my high schools so i got the chance to chat with him at the party too. a nice change from the uptight and formal setting at school. he's standing on the right of the table with his wife.


5/20/05 weekend
on saturday mel, carrie, liz and i drove to kashiwazaki for a huge party. it’s about an hour and a half drive along the coast to the spot where we met up with about 30 friends, mostly other foreign English teachers from around the prefecture, but also some Japanese friends. we drank, played badminton, drank, grilled out, drank.


as the night dawned we walked across the road to a rockin’ 2-story, open air bar with tons of hammocks and pillowed sitting areas called nagisa.

they had 2 djs so we danced until the sun came up, literally. we camped on the beach and woke the next day to a beautiful view.
sunday night liz and i treated ourselves to a nice Italian dinner, some red wine and a little karaoke.

5/24/05
had a great night out with uchiyama sensei, my best teacher-friend, and kodama sensei, my new supervisor. we dined at a recently-opened izakaya, Japanese-style rowdy restaurant, down the street from my place. the conversation was enlightening as we discussed everything from our personal lives to cultural quirks and, unusually, we had quite a population cross-section; older and younger, Japanese and American, male and female.

5/27/05 weekend
friday was a rowdy night out to say goodbye to our friend neil who’s heading back to England. it was a good excuse to drink ourselves silly, the usual result of the all-you-can-drink-in-2-hours arrangement so many restaurants have. we also karaoked like crazy.
saturday melanie, liz and i went to a baseball game at takada park. it was a minor league match-up between the yomiuri giants and the yakult swallows.

interestingly, in this Japanese league the teams are named for sponsors and not for the city where they are based. yomiuri is a newspaper and yakult is a popular milk-like drink.
saturday night lizzy and i tried a new yaki niku spot, delicious but expensive. then the girls made the rounds to all the usual spots on the strip including the one dance club.

sunday we attempted to hone our dancing skills at a hip-hop dance class held at a catholic church in town. it was refreshing to learn some new moves and what a great workout. my hand was a bit of an impairment which was frustrating. the weather now is nice enough that i’ve been relying on my bike for transport most days. i’ve got a big enough basket i can use it to grocery shop and travel to and from school also. it recently occurred to me how back in America if you ride a bike or walk everywhere it is considered abnormal. passersby in cars probably assume you are poor, can’t afford a vehicle, wonder why you don’t catch the bus. in so many other countries, going without a car is a sign of environmental awareness and good health. i definitely feel healthier when i’m riding my bike everyday.

Who woulda thought Korea's so much fun?

part il [that's korean for one. clever huh?]
golden week starts may 3 and is a string of holidays [constitution day, national day and children’s day] when everyone and their grandmother goes traveling. if you take 11 hours of vacation, you can score 9 days off in a row. carrie, melanie and i decided to brave airport traffic and head to south korea.
the madness started on friday night, 4/29/05, in Tokyo as a bunch of friends converged on the city for a kick-off. this is beth, melly and i on the way to dinner at a kushi-ya.

it’s a delicious but unhealthy marvel. of course, at this point nutrition wasn’t a concern as our vacation had already technically started. at these restaurants, after hitting the buffet of raw foods and piling your plate full of delights like shrimp, shellfish, fish cake, pork, beef, cheese and tons of veggies, everyone sits at a table with a fry daddy in the center. you dredge your food, all on sticks which are called kushi in Japanese, in a creamy batter, roll it in breadcrumbs and drop it in the vat of hot oil. and there are a ton of great dipping sauces. it is 90 minutes of stuffing your face for 2500 yen, about $25, and for an extra 1000 yen they will throw in all the alcohol you can drink. afterwards we hit roppongi, one of the boroughs of Tokyo that i had never partied in before. it is famous as the foreigners' district although we hung/danced/talked with mostly Japanese peeps. it is amazing to see the discrepancy in attitude and disposition between the country mice in my relatively small town and the city mice who inhabit Tokyo. as we finally decided to call it a night, the city was already transitioning from nightlife to morning traffic. the view from our hotel as we returned.


the next day, on about 30 minutes of sleep, we headed for the airport.
i was interested in visiting the Korean peninsula more because i lacked knowledge about it and less because i was particularly intrigued by its culture. i expected, being situated as it is between china and japan, that it would be a blend of these 2 most well-known asian cultures. while there were definitely shades of cultural cross-over, i couldn’t have been more wrong about korea possessing a strong national identity of its own. our first indication was in the subway station soon after we had arrived. we’d taken a bus from the airport to downtown seoul and were standing, gazing at the posted subway map trying to discern our next move when we were approached by two hip young men. one spoke in great colloquial English… “what’s up? you guys need some help?” uuhhhh… i was instantly aware of how japan has been conditioning me over the last 10 months. i was so caught off guard by a stranger speaking to us that i could barely proffer up a response. he was the first of many, many Koreans who would attempt to communicate with us. most of the conversations would start with a ‘hello. where from?’ and we would quickly realize that we shared very little vocabulary. this wouldn’t put them off however as we would lapse into a game of charades on the spot. quite a few young people are well-educated in English and it was so refreshing to see them attempt to use it on foreigners. in japan, by contrast, they have absolutely no self-confidence or faith in their ability to communicate with foreigners, be it in English, Japanese or via gestures. i would venture to say the English level of the average Korean far exceeds that of a Japanese person, although this assumption could be tainted. perhaps many Japanese people are able to muster some English but us foreigners will never know it because they are too scared to actually attempt to use it in conversation. another refreshing aspect of communicating in south korea was their determination. if the first try at conveying an idea flopped, they would stop, think, regroup and try again using different words or movements. if a Japanese person gathers the courage to talk with you and you don’t appear to be understanding exactly, their tendency is to throw in the towel; they act as if it is hopeless.

we dropped our bags at kim's guesthouse, which turned out to be great lodging for about 15$/night per person, and headed into the bar district on foot. exhausted from the previous evening, we found a lively restaurant for dinner where we quickly realized the extent of our ignorance. luckily the menu had some food pictures, but there were no pictures of ashtrays, water, beer or the bathroom for us to point at in an attempt to communicate. it was pretty darn funny. afterwards we wandered a bit checking out the bar scene. this is one of my personal favorites...not the bar, just its name.

the koreans, like the japanese, are idol crazy. especially when it comes to the handsome, sensitive men of asian weekly dramas. although japanese and korean political ties are strained at best, the people of the countries share an unreal fascination with a korean actor named bae yong joon who stars in the serial 'winter sonata'. japanese women love the show because of its romance, which never lapses into open-mouth kissing [gasp!] or raunchy sex scenes. they interpret joon's glossy, wide-eyed stares into his lover's eyes as a sign of his compassion, passion, infatuation; all traits that japanese men are notorious for not having. joon has even boosted tourism between the countries as japanese women by the throngs are traveling to south korea for 'winter sonata' tours. i picked up a pamphlet about them...you can do episode #12 tour where you'll sit on the same park bench he did and eat at the same noodle shop. or maybe you'd prefer episode #30 where you can see the grocery store where he met his lover. or... how bizarre. this is a shot of idol trinkets at a market in myeong dong including bae yong joon socks, business cards, magnets and all the other necessities.



the first of many amazing meals. you swish the beef in the broth until it browns then place it on the rice sprinkled with sesame inside the lettuce leaves, slather on some fermented bean sauce [which tasted so much better than it sounds] and roll it up. after all the beef is cooked, they bring out a heaping plate of sprouts, seafood, and other veggies which they dump in to the pot and let simmer into a salty, delicious soup. every meal comes accompanied by tons of small dishes of side items like kim chee [at absolutely every meal], potato salad, seaweed dishes, tofu dishes, strange vegetable concoctions that we were unable to identify, etc.

that night we took a cable car up to seoul tower for a view of the cityscape.

no matter what district of the city you are in, the night markets are bustling.
we had planned to bar hop in hongik, the area surrounding one of the universities...but before we knew it we were on the street of 'try to walk' headed straight for nightclub central.

we didn't protest as the bumping music from inside drew us through the door of club NB like the mice following the piper. the place was packed, people were dancing, and, to these 3 girls' delight, they weren't frightened to dance with us.


mel and carrie suffering from hangovers/in need of food...fast.
lunch the next day at a bul go gi restuarant just down from the hostel. behind kimchee, this is the country's most famous cuisine. you always get tongs and scissors to lop off chunks of the steak and you grill the meat, garlic, peppers at your own table, although most proprietors didn't trust us to do this ourselves and usually tended the grill for us [in the beginning it was a welcome help, by the end we were beating them off of our grill].


momma mel, as she became known, had written the subway stop on our arms the night before in case we got separated up and couldn't remember how to get home. since i couldn't use my left hand, i couldn't properly wash it off of my right arm. it was a hilarious reminder of a great night until i finally got one of the girls to scrub it for me.


mel and i at gyeongbokgung palace. this is just one of the places where the roots of koreans' distrust of japanese people is evident. king taejo built this to be the main palace, but in 1592 the japanese burnt it down during their invasion. when it was finally rebuilt, about 300 years later, it didn't take long for the japanese to ruin it again. assassins snuck in and murdered queen min as she slept in her bedroom. the king fled and it was never used as royalty's home again.

insadong is the artsy area of town. the streets are lined with art galleries,

book stores,

and kitschy little shops selling all sorts of crafts and crap.

you can see some japanese writing used on these signs. because of the occupation, many of the older folks can speak japanese. many times in markets i resorted to speaking that instead of english in order to bargain.

near insadong and city hall was a gawdy, terribly fun part of town.

we spent many nights cruising the streets here people watching and partying.

she's making a kimchee pancake [perfect blend of kimchee and green leafy vegetable, sometimes they add minced octopus, fried till crisp. you should have seen her skillfully flip that thing with a spatula. unbelievably tasty.] outside one of the many restaurants.


the next morning we rose early to catch a bus to the demilitariazed zone, a 4-kilometer wide stretch of land that separates north and south korea [2 km on each side of the 38th parallel]. you must join a tour to area; this isn't a do-it-yourself trip. technically the 2 koreas are still at war and their cease-fire agreement is the longest treaty of its type to hold. the area was established in 1953 after the korean war. there are numerous stories of isolated violence erupting in recent years, but even without those tales the tension is palpable. we first visited the southern edge of the DMZ which is patroled by american troops.

it's lined with fences and barbed wire.

the girls standing in front of the entrance to 'freedom bridge' which has now been locked and barricaded. at the end of the fighting, thousands of north koreans used this bridge to escape to the south before the border was sealed.

the bridge is a simple structure that offers no hints as to its historical importance. letters, signs and clothes scrawled with handwritten notes adorn the fence. they are written to loved ones that were separated when the border closed. an estimated 5 million families were split up. now there is no way for these family members to find their missing loved ones because the north has such strict control over the flow of information.

we ventured into the DMZ under many bridges we were told are loaded with dynamite in case the north attacks, the south can detonate the tnt blocking the roads. they estimate the north has dug about 21 tunnels into south korea and we trekked through the third, and last one, they located. no cameras were allowed so close your eyes and picture... it was a cramped, damp place with water dripping from the rock outcroppings that hung making the tunnel about 5.5 feet tall. luckily we were wearing hardhats which did their job. the tunnel is about 73 m underground and 1,635 m long. they made it to within 44 km of seoul with this one. the craggy walls are colored black with paint that is now beginning to chip away. this was a feeble attempt by north korea to claim it was a coal mine and not an infiltration tunnel. subsequent tests proved there is no coal in the area. the passage also slants down toward north korea to ensure the water will drain that way so as not to reveal its position to troops in the south. south korea has blocked off the tunnel with a series of 3 heavy concrete doors that are menacing. our guide told us that the north first denied digging the tunnels but later, after realizing the tourist dollars the passages were generating, admitted to creating them and demanded their cut of the profits. what lunatics.

the next stop was dorasan military observation post where we got a glimpse of the north. after being briefed on the security in the area we were lead to a balcony where i used binoculars to check out north korea...you could see the military men doing their thing and also the largest flag pole in the world, a result of a 'pissin contest'. the south built their flag pole first, then the north built a taller one, so the south upped theirs, and so did the north. in the words of our tour guide, 'eventually we realized this was a stupid game so we just gave up.' they are worried about spying so you can't get any closer than this to take pics of the north.

in another strange twist, we headed to a station where the outgoing train would be bound for pyeongyang, the capital of north korea, if that were possible. since the koreas have yet to reunite, there is no traffic of any sort between them. the trainless and passengerless station now serves to remind the world of the south's dreams of reconciliation. as you don't pay to get in, it can't be considered a tourist trap. who knows... anyway, it gives the military men somewhere to stand all day.

on the way back into town the bus took us by an 'amethyst factory' which did turn out to be a tourist trap of a jewelry store. we spent the time on the bus chatting with the tour guide. he was really inquisitve about american cultural marvels such as hooters. 'are they really all a size d?' he asked.

one of the reasons we never made it out of seoul was the city-wide art festival happening the whole time we were there, Hi Seoul 2005. one night they showed a huge projection piece on the city hall building that was an amazing sequence of huge, colorful, animated pieces of art melting from one into another. it was accompanied by an oh-so-appropriate original soundtrack.

they also had concerts [during which it rained but that didn't deter anyone from coming out. we drank, danced and met a lot of people on the lawn at city hall.], art markets, food stalls, exhibits. that night, we headed to the gawdy center of the city and found a draft beer bar. we were able to read the chinese character for fresh or draft which has been adopted by the japanese and also, apparently, by the koreans. while there we met a couple of men, one who spoke english. they led us on to a tiny dance club where we met a ton of other people. we ended up singing the night away at a karaoke bar with a couple other guys. as popular as it is in japan, we had to give it a whirl korean style.

PNG

Part deux
our laundry, washed with rain water that's collected in a huge vat. same water we used for showers and drinking and cooking. [unlike the locals, we had to boil the water before we could stomach it.]


we went to the lagoon in bau village and i saw this boy playing with a boat he made.


this is marta. she really warmed to me. we're out on her canoe.


in the lagoon, we all hopped of the boat, landing in calf deep squishy mud. as i felt around with my toes i begin to clutch and bring up all sorts of shells. her daughter, she and i started feeling for clams [maybe] and we found enough for them to have for dinner.


silouette of preacher at sunrise service on easter sunday.


the morning was beautiful.



they dressed for the service. since they have no cd players, the discs have become pure decoration. not sure where this one came from. they had no idea who toni braxton is.


they grow a lot of rice. this is me trying to pound the husks of off the grains.




this family is really productive. they make all sorts of goods from coconut, like soap, for the village. here they are pressing the dried shreds of coconut meat and collecting the oil.


this is joe, a warm-hearted intelligent government worker who accompanied us on our journey. he was hilarious, easy-going and really curious, always asking me questions about american and japanese culture. saying goodbye to him, after all we'd experienced together and shared was tough.




that's sara on the far right making a palm crown for me. can you believe the knives these kids tote around?


everyone in the village is skilled at this jumping game. i picked it up fairly quickly but never quite mastered the beautiful song that accompanies it.


everyone here is sporting the betel nut mouth, their main vice. betel looks a bit like a hard fig. you bite the pod and pull the round ball of meat out the middle. they cook seashells and coral on a big piece of corrugated metal over a fire and then pulverize it. you dip a stick of mustard root into the shell powder and chew it with the betel nut. a chemical reaction occurs, the mush turns red and heats up and creates a lot of juice. the sensation is a bit like downing a double expresso, a talkative caffeine buzz that lasts about 20 minutes. it also makes you spit. a lot.


our welcome to unu.


a village home in unu.


our welcome to a school in popoe village [i think].


what a view from the school.




the route the kids walk from village to school.


this woman has had 3 sets of twins. imagine giving birth in the middle of nowhere without an epidural[sp.] to that many children. she's tough.


another shot of me dancing...imagine that. the girl on the right gave me the headdress and yellow wraps. i was always up in the middle of the singsings, the word for a singing and dancing event.


this is in waria valley. you walk the path through a number of small villages that are really close together. the villagers are grouped by tribe. upon arriving in png, we drew names to see which tribe we would belong to. i am a wapo, or eagle. our job is to keep the gardens. when these people realized that my tribal affiliation is the same as theirs they went wild, embracing me and giving me things. they offered to let me move into an empty structure across the way and said they would find a husband for me. it was tempting, briefly. [you must marry out of your tribe. the children will belong to the mother's tribe.]


another small village along the waria valley road. this clearing is used for meetings and bonfires and evening festivities when the whole community gathers together.


they are reliant on natural water sources which explains why all the settlements are near a river, lagoon or ocean. there are no roads here [no need because they have no cars] only footpaths. most traveling is done by boat, our main transportation once arriving.


villagers coming out to send us off.






they adorned me with beautiful feathers and fresh flowers.


later that night after the singsing with zia, one of our guides who is from the waria valley.


these are zia's parents.


the kids were so friendly and curious. although this little one couldn't speak english, he wasn't frightened to approach me. their kind disposition is obvious which is such a stark contrast to most japanese people.


next day we headed to owazi village where we met these kids.


look at those eyes.


the welcome dance.


the eldest female villager who i conned into teaching me the dance. she broke off some tree limbs for me to dance with.


she was so affectionate, showering me with small gifts and constantly embracing me and holding my hand.


it was a bit scary trying to traverse the slippery rocks up to the top of the waterfall. once we arrived we realized it was a well known hangout.


debbie and i


the village elder and her son. he is working on building a facility for eco tourism and other people who want to take trips similar to ours. his english was great.


at another small village. the men teach the village boys to fish, hunt and perform the ceremonial dances.






it's the first time she's ever seen a digital camera. how amazing.




heading on to the next village.


at times it felt like it was a whirlwind trip but we wanted to see and meet as many people as possible. having a group of foreigners visit is a rare opportunity for them. unfortunately we weren't able to spend too much time with each village.


a brief stop at a village nestled in a beautiful forest. this environment dictates that their tribal dress will be rich with greens.




after we finished celebrating the nange festival that night in pema village. this is robert, he accompanied us the entire time. amazing how knowledgable he is about nature, tribal customs and also the world. he's been trained in drama outreach and writes and choreographs plays that are used to educate villagers about all sorts of things from aids to dental health. he speaks 5 languages fluently but can carve his own boat and kill and prepare a wild boar. what an admirable blend of talents and interests.


the boy in the rear wearing the jean shirt was incredibly timid but friendly. we chewed betel nut together and chatted during the festival. he gave me a beautiful necklace on which hangs a skull and crossbones wooden pendant that he carved. it is so well-crafted.


wild pigs are everywhere and they use them for all sorts of things...tusks for jewelry, skin for leather, meat for food...


as a huge token of friendship, they killed and presented us with one of their pigs.
how sweet...


these men chopped banana trees, tore the leaves into strips to use as rope and whipped us up a raft in about 30 minutes. this is the infamous boat off of which i fell when we collided with some rocks down the river. everyone was impressed with my rafting prowess as i swam upstream, scaled some rocks and climbed back onto the raft. afterwards, my thumb wouldn't move...in retrospect it was quite a life-altering moment.


some kids saying goodbye. the boy on the far left is named lucas. his english was great. we pal-ed around quite a bit together. as i waited to set off i noticed a raucous wound on his shin where he had cut himself with an ax. it was infected and covered with flys. i urged him to clean it as i found my first aid kit. i used the ointment and dressings for my thumb stitches to bandage him up. his mother was so incredibly thankful, she squeezed my hand and looked me in the eye with extreme relief.


looking down on zare aingse school.


the back of a classroom.


the building where the older kids have class. elementary through high school kids attend this school.


planting a palm on the path from the school to the river.


en route back to bau village.


we carried the pig back to bau, our main hub, where chef giri cooked it up into delicious stews, skewers with peanut sauce and shredded meat. giri is a local who studied nutrition and culinary arts on a government scholarship in the capital. he does village outreach in which he teaches the women about dietary needs and food safety. he prepared 3 meals a day for us, including some dense delicious biscuits cooked over fire each morning. he was an absolute nut so we got along really well. he loved to dance and play drums so quite frequently it was he and i sneaking into the circle of celebration during community events.


as they have no electricity or running water, this is the kitchen where all of our meals were prepared over a fire. what an amazing feat.


the dishes were then dragged down the shore to the water's edge where they were scoured with sand and rinsed in the ocean.


almost every night after dinner was spent playing on the beach with the kids.


i learned tons of songs and handclap games.


it was absolutely heartbreaking to say goodbye to the kids we had spent 2 weeks bonding with in bau village. they were unabashedly curious, and willing to share their culture and what few belongings they had with us. we became bound by our mutual interest in each other, realizing we all stood to gain by the exchange of ideas and thoughts and friendship. i was amazed at how mature many of these children seemed, though their lives are such that their survival depends on their ability to care for others and provide, which may be why they were so nurturing to us. that being said, they also don't sacrifice their childhoods...the community comes together to play games and stoke their youth often.
this is the goodbye ceremony at eu primary, where we spent most of our time.


they kept saying how sorry they were that they had nothing to give us in return for the supplies that we brought and the work we did with the school. during the closing ceremony i spoke for our group explaining that they had given us so much, and although we couldn't hold it or see it we would always have it in our hearts and minds. their spirit and kindness and our experiences will never be forgotten.
they also presented us with so many gifts. pounds and pounds of jewelry, all made from readily available supplies like shells, plants, seeds, animal bones and flowers. and some of the kids we had each truly grown close to gave us special items like hand-painted bowls made from coconut shells, lengths of decorated paper made from banana tree bark, feather jewelry, fruits, shells, hand-carved chopsticks. i couldn't hold back the tears as the children walked down the line we had formed shaking our hands, some with watering eyes. these momentos will forever remind me of the strength of friendship and the importance of human interaction.



the view from our hut.


saying goodbye at the village.


a school in kamiali where we paid a brief visit.


the kids were elated to be skipping class to talk and swim with us.


it was our last day at the beach before heading inland to stay at a village in kamiali.


a little inland is where we encountered these guys stalking through the woods. initially we were a bit freaked, until we realized they were friends of robert's who were sent out to scare us. it worked.




this is debbie, emma and i sporting hair that has not been washed in literally 2 weeks. the bugs were attracted to the shampoo smell and we're lazy so it worked out for the best. we are at a hotel in lae, png's 2nd largest city. we treated the locals who accompanied us on the trip to pizza and some beer [the first we'd had in 2 weeks. S&P is their main brand] and they treated us to a concert with many village groups singing and dancing.


the next day we headed back to port moresby, the capital, for a bit of sightseeing. this is us exhausted on the steps of parliament. it was a saturday so the building was locked but, indicitive of many of the corruption problems facing the nation, a security gaurd offered to let us in for a small fee wink, wink. we had a discussion about it and i refused to allow the others to pay this man a bribe which we be contributing to the oppressive system the country's people are struggling so hard against.

crime in the capital is horrendous as the nation makes a push towards internationalizing and industrializing its economy. it was like being on the front lines of a battle against poverty where they are striving to climb out of third world status. it's a war zone i couldn't imagine living in, but once you've left the city for the villages the mood completely changes. the strong sense of community is unbelievable. they want to learn and travel and educate themselves so that they can return to their home-villages and better life for everyone there. it is such a self-less way of thinking that it forces you to reconsider many of the ideas you have about loyalty and friendship and family. their belief in humanity colors everything they do and its such a far cry from the individualistic and independant ways that westerners so highly prize. their interdependence is refreshing, eye-opening and thought-provoking.
they are genuinely good people.