We were walking around Intramuros and came upon this bride waiting outside the church doors for her grand entrance.
Colleen called me out to see a cicada molting. We'd certainly heard them before, seen their empty shells, and also live specimens occasion in Toronto and teeming in trees in Korea. The shells I've seen are brown and the live ones bluish black, so I was quite surprised to see this vibrant, green-orange-pink creature frozen in a backwards dive. It twitched slightly and vibrated in short bursts. The wings slowly unfurled, looking fresh, new surfaces catching air for the first time. We wondered whether it was aware of us, perhaps thinking, "Crap, I feel vulnerable."
Vulnerable, yes. But also amazing!
After seeing the Taj Mahal and surroundings in Agra, I took a late train to Jaipur, the Pink City and capital of Rajasthan. I encountered this a short walk from my hostel.
I was nervous but couldn't pass up the opportunity to have my face shaved by someone else, a first for me, in India and streetside no less.
I would not regret it. The whole process took several steps which are now blurred in memory but involved being sprayed down, vigorously towel scrubbed, lathered, razored, oiled, massaged and lotioned. I closed my eyes, stealing peeks at the mirror every now and then but mostly concentrating on the Indian sun and Indian hands on my face and scent upon new scent wafting up my nose.
Baby smooth, mentholated, and chewing on a bit of paan, I felt supremely ready to explore the Pink City.
We returned to Vientiane for one more day, again passing through to take the overnight train back to Bangkok.
We escaped the heat in the town market, which turned out to be a mall and also turned out to have stores selling DVDs of Korean pop star performances.
Go hallyu!
We went to a club in Hongdae where you can dance ankle-deep in water. The whole place looks like someone realized their fantasy-club without any regard to practicalities or safety standards. The result is awesome if somewhat perilous.
Nevertheless, while I did some careful semi-dancing, a rowdy teenage bunch took to the floor, splashing with abandon and jumping recklessly on each other. No fear.
Some inline-skate practice at the local rink. They seemed pretty hardcore. The one guy was doing squats forever. Listen to all those ball-bearings... glidey. Also, I might start skating just for the outfits.
We went to a puppy cafe a while back. They're coffeshops with puppies that aren't puppies anymore, scampering around from tea time to coffee break. Order a green tea, pet a sheepdog, breathe in that puppy air.
It's a tad strange, but pets aren't too common here and these establishments cafes offer a chance to play with that St.Bernard you've always wanted but can't quite accommodate in your Korean apartment.
Keeping it surreal.
The market had used clothes piled so densely it was difficult to browse through them. Vendors, mostly ajummas, idled by their goods, chit-chatting through the mothball fumes, peeling chestnuts, or otherwise passing time. No pressure peddling here. I found a stall stocked mostly with men's clothes, manned by an ajoshi. As usual, I pointed, shrugged, and used facial expressions to communicate. The old man eyeballed me briefly and in seconds pulled from a wall of clothes a jacket that fit me. He then repeated this trick with a pair of jeans. An extra-large pair of jeans was strung up as a divider and I changed amidst the piles. After haggling and completing the transaction, he handed me his business card. My denim guy has a calling card featuring Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.