In 2010, I set up this blog as an efficient means of communicating with my friends and family while I was away at Marine Corps boot camp. My dad posted portions of my letters, as well as general information as to what I was doing on any given day. Now, feel free to bookmark this page and check for updates on what I'm up to. Thanks for reading!
As I updated my last blog post, I realized I still have a ton pictures from other places I've visited in 2014 that I still haven't posted, including Ukraine, Poland, Vietnam, Malaysia, and Cuba. I try to share my best photographs to take you there. Traveling is a lot of fun, but it certainly comes with headaches: long flights, expensive tickets, travel sickness...my goal is to make you feel like you were there yourself, minus the headaches. I hope I can capture the emotion and history that each location has to offer.
This post features pictures from a place that needs no introduction.
Double electrified fences.
This is where they decided who lived and died: left or right.
My guide said she once gave a tour to someone who recognized his suitcase.
So many faces. Too many faces.
These canisters contained the gas.
Looking up at where the Nazis dropped the gas canisters.
The city of El Calafate, tucked away into the southwestern pocket of Argentina’s Santa Cruz Province, overlooks the wonderfully-blue “Lago Argentino,” or “Argentine Lake.” The quaint tourist town is a gateway to beautiful glaciers, endless Patagonian steppes, and stunning Andean mountain peaks.
Argentina’s Santa Cruz Province sits farther south than both
Australia and New Zealand. It isn’t quite the “End of the World,” as the
bordering “Tierra del Fuego” Province officially holds that title, but it’s
close enough. During a recent trip to Argentina, I jumped at the opportunity to
take a day trip to neighboring Chile. The destination was Torres del Paine
National Park, a short three-plus hours from my home base in El Calafate.
I love maps. Thank goodness they had a "You Are Here" sign at Argentine customs.
This is facing Argentina.
At Argentine
customs – the hill in the distance is Chilean territory. Before that? No man’s
land. I’m sure there are specific GPS coordinates with the exact line of where
Argentina’s territory ends and Chile’s begins, but it is about a 5 minute drive
*that way* to Chilean immigration.
We made it -- Chile!
Our first stop in the Torres del Paine National Park. The "Torres" (towers) are
in the background.
I thought it was interesting to see "Pare" in Chile. In Mexico, "Stop" is written "Alto."
I apologize for the false advertising: I've never been to the Philippines,
so I can't say if it is actually more fun there. Probably warmer, though.
Back home: my hostel had some of the best views in El Calafate.
Less than an hour’s drive away from the densely populated
capital city of Havana lays Las Terrazas,
a nature resort with a seemingly endless amount of palm trees, bushes, and even
a few lakes. The purpose of my trip there wasn’t to swim like some of the
families I saw; no, I was there to zip-line.
I had been zip-lining once before in southern California, so
this wasn’t entirely a new experience for me. However, not every American can
say they’ve zipped over Cuba’s
beautiful landscape wearing little more than a helmet and worn-out shoes. Needless
to say, I jumped at the opportunity when I found out some friends were going.
It wasn’t all fun and games: even after a short bus ride up a hill,
there was some work involved…if you can call it that.
Some people had more excitement than others.
It’s a long way down, but thank goodness for the water!
Luckily, the cameraman was able to find a replacement for this shot.
This country is often called the “World’s Largest Classic Car Museum.”These beauties can found everywhere here,
and they always look good with Cuba’s natural landscape.
I even recorded a video (I’m just glad our guides didn’t
enforce the “two hands on the safety carabiner” rule):
Well, considering the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991, any
authentic accommodation will be at least a few decades old. Just inside the 30
km checkpoint of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, the Pripyat Hotel rests in the
heart of Chernobyl City. It was built in 1967 to commemorate the 50th
anniversary of the October Revolution, which led to the establishment of
communism as the dominate party in Russia in 1917. The pink façade of the
two-story building provides a stark contrast to the surrounding grey, mossy
homes that are being slowly reclaimed by nature. Nearby, visitors can see
evidence of what was once a busy bedroom community for the people who worked in
the power plant nearby. Local attractions include an empty Jewish synagogue
(popular before WWII), a Lenin statue, and a small café (with free Wi-Fi)!
Nowadays, visitors are limited to their rooms and the cafe after the sun goes
down, because there isn’t any lighting anywhere else. During the winter, this
means you will probably be eating an early dinner and hitting the hay, because
the sun sets at 4 pm.
Near the entrance to Chernobyl City.
The outside of the Pripyat Hotel.
Although Chernobyl hosts about 17,000 tourists a year,
the overwhelming majority opt for quick, one-day group tours during the summer.
This is the economic choice. However, when visiting a city that is notorious
for its isolation and emptiness, being surrounded by a bunch of chatty
explorers can easily detract from the experience. I decided to invest $2,000
USD on a three-day, two night private excursion with a Ukrainian tour guide –
who spoke very fluent English. I was kicking myself for blowing so much money
in so little time (quick day-tours in a large group goes for about $80/person),
but I was very thankful for my choice afterwards.
Lenin still hasn’t left Chernobyl City.
Enjoying a traditional Ukrainian lunch in the canteen
near my hotel.
The Pripyat Hotel doesn’t get many visitors. The only
other people I saw there were in the room right next to mine; unfortunately, I
could hear them very well, even if I couldn’t understand what they were saying,
because the walls were uncomfortably thin. It is cleaned, organized, supplied,
and fully staffed by a single woman who only speaks Russian. They don’t have
room service, Internet access, phones, and during my first night, toilet paper.
There is no website to visit, or phone number to call to book a room. Logistics
and reservations are made by one of the few licensed tour agencies that work
with the Ukrainian government. The only guests are tourists that decide to
spend the night in Chernobyl.
I’m ready for my stay!
Most structures in the Zone have the same “look”.
The view from inside the canteen’s restroom.
I am very interested in architecture. Growing up in
southern California, I didn’t have to travel very far to see old Spanish
missions, Victorian homes, or modern buildings. There are certain
idiosyncrasies that I noticed exploring the Zone. One unique aspect was that
double doors lead into everywhere: my individual room in the hotel, the
“canteen” where the workers eat, and the apartment buildings in the abandoned
city of Pripyat. By “double doors”, I mean that you have to open two different sets
of doors to get in many of the rooms, which felt odd for the small
accommodation where I was staying. It is kind of like having a mantrap in your
bedroom, except the inner door doesn’t lock, and the outer one hardly closes. My
hotel had two floors, and probably about 12 rooms. My room was quaint: three
knee-high beds took up most of the ground area in the main room, which had just
enough space to fit my one bag. I welcomed the colorful curtains that seemed to
balance out the sad ambience of the uninhabitable buildings outside. The restroom: basic. It was interesting trying
to take a shower in an elevated bathtub without a curtain. Sitting down while
holding a bar of soap in one hand and the shower head in the other got the job
done. I was thankful for the hot water, even if the pressure was low. I’d like
to think all the exposed pipes make it easier for repair. A nice touch I
noticed was that the plastic light switches in my hotel were exactly the same
as the ones I saw in the Polissya Hotel that was abandoned 30 years ago –
that’s when I knew my experience was authentic.
I knew my experience was authentic when I saw this switch in my own hotel room.
This building was once a Jewish synagogue before WWII.
The Polissya Hotel: Not unlike the one I stayed in
nearby.
My video walkthrough of the Pripyat Hotel in
Chernobyl City.
Last week, I returned from a two-week vacation to Europe,
which was my first time visiting the continent. While many people dream of
seeing the Eiffel Tower, Coliseum, or Vatican, I had a desire to see something
different: the highlight for me was a $2,000 three-day, two-night private
excursion to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone. Yes, I went to Europe to see a power
plant.
The Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant can be easily seen from the top of Pripyat's apartment buildings.
I've always been strangely fascinated by Chernobyl.
It was the site of the world's worst nuclear accident, and the surrounding area
is still contaminated and (somewhat) dangerous to visit. The nearby
city of Pripyat is incredibly interesting because it is quite literally a place
frozen in time: evidence of a bustling Soviet model town provides a stark
contrast to the silence that is felt today. It has been featured in various
video games, including Call of Duty 4, which is one of my all-time favorites.
It has also been the subject of numerous History Channel shows and
documentaries, including "Life After People" and "Zero Hour".
Last year, I decided that I needed to visit the area sooner, rather than later,
because not only are many of the buildings collapsing and becoming too
dangerous to enter, but the New Safe Confinement is projected to be completed
in 2016, which will completely enclose the original Power Plant, making it
impossible for tourists to see what the building looked like. Walking around
Pripyat was a lot quieter than I expected; there were no sounds of cars driving
in the distance, no resonations of voices from other people. It had rained a
little bit while I was there, so when I was exploring, all I could hear were
isolated echoes of water droplets falling from a partially-collapsed roof, or
the subtle sound of a once-hardwood floor slowly bending from decades of
neglect. Unlike the movie "Chernobyl Diaries", I did not hear nor see
any animals.
The Power Plant didn't always look like this: in November 2013, the old chimney was replaced with a shorter one to make room for the New Safe Confinement.
Contrary to popular belief, Chernobyl is extremely safe
to visit. The Ukrainian government provides strict access control over the 30
km area surrounding the Plant, known as the Exclusion Zone. It is complete with
numerous checkpoints, redundant radiation exposure checks, and 24-hour static
and patrolling guards. There are currently twelve licensed tour guides, and
each have to write a detailed report of what they did after each day. It is
impossible to legally visit the area without getting prior permission, which
takes about two weeks and is done through a sponsored tour agency. Luckily, all
you have to do is submit your passport information, and the agency does the
rest. It takes no less than seven signatures and some signed statements of
understanding to gain access. Of course, the guide has the final say, and has
the authority to cancel the trip at any time. (My guide had to do that once,
when one group thought it would be fun to eat the radioactive moss.) The
purpose for such tight security is two-fold: on one hand, the area is very much
a living museum to the effects of radiation pollution and needs to be preserved,
and on the other, it is important to enforce proper precautionary measures to
minimize the chance of getting hurt. Some ground rules:
1.No eating outside in the open air.
2.No sitting down.
3.No alcohol.
4.No setting down personal belongings on the
ground (tripods must have plastic bags on the legs).
5.Do not go anywhere without your tour guide.
6.Do not take anything outside the Zone.
7.Do not take pictures of the checkpoints or gates
surrounding the Power Plant.
8.Do not violate the dress code (closed-toed
shoes, pants, and long sleeves are required).
9.Upon leaving the Zone (and in various places throughout), everyone is subject to pass compulsory radiation checks.
A demonstration of Chernobyl's modern radiation machines.
The roof of Pripyat's grocery store has certainly seen better days.
My private tour guide shares some wisdom from Pripyat's Main Square.
Believe it or not, there are still 2,000 people that work
in the Exclusion Zone. The government uses mathematics to calculate acceptable
doses of radiation, and time limits are enforced for visiting certain areas
(some people that still work in the Plant are only allowed to work for 6 hours
per day…with special protective clothing, of course). To determine the safety
of specific sites in the Zone, the authorities use a Geiger counter, which is a
device used to measure the exposure levels of radiation. Tourists are allowed a
maximum daily dose of 3
microsieverts. The background radiation levels of most places on Earth are
below .3 microsieverts per hour. Anything more is considered normal for fallout
areas.
The sun came out at the perfect time for a reflective photo. I love how the blue clouds turned out; I was used to seeing gray during my entire trip.
The most radioactive part of my trip came when my
Ukrainian tour guide, Nikolai, showed me the Pripyat Hospital. After the Power
Plant exploded in the early morning hours of April 26th, 1986, the
first-responders – known as “liquidators” – were called to the scene to
extinguish the flames. They were unaware of the unseen dangers. It wasn’t long
before they became ill and were sent to the nearest hospital, about three km
away from the Plant. Over thirty would die from acute radiation sickness. The
liquidators’ coats, helmets, and boots can still be found in the basement and
random areas of the hospital. I stumbled on an unrecognizable piece of cloth
that gave a reading of 23.5 microsieverts per hour – over 156 times the amount
of radiation seen just outside the building. While this may seem like a lot, my
guide did the math: it would take about 20 days of continuous exposure at this
level to die from radiation poisoning. Of course, it all depends on time,
distance, protection, and the individual person. I’m not sure how long it would
take to increase the risk of getting cancer, but I’m not willing to find out.
The world's most dangerous clothing? Maybe so - I found this piece of a firefighter's uniform in Pripyat's hospital, where the first responders were taken after the initial cleanup. They died within two weeks from radiation poisoning.
Another
excellent day. I woke up with the sunlight, and was still able to go back to
sleep for a couple hours. I took my time getting ready, and this time
remembered to ask for scrambled eggs, because the hotel defaults to
sunny side up (gross!). Anyway, today was the first time I traveled
domestically via airline in a foreign country. The food at the airport after
going through security was to die for: ham and cheese croissant, with a raisin
croissant and a mango yogurt smoothie. So good.
The
first thing I noticed flying into Phnom Penh was the skyscrapers…the small
handful, of course. Cambodia looks insignificant from the skies, as if you had
a backyard with nothing but dirt, and it had been raining constantly for a
week. I am blessed just to be an American. Today, again, was spent mostly in
awe, horror, and sadness from seeing the way some of the people live. Prior to
today, the most people I had seen on a motorcycle was two. Now, it’s four. I
saw a mother, father, and two very young children cruising through the streets
without helmets, boots, or any type of protection. I saw people driving their
motorcycles one-handed, with a friend in the back, while eating
corn-on-the-cob. There are few street lights or stop signs. What would normally
be a two-lane road in my home town could fit dozens of motorcycles, side by
side, as if they were racing each other. The sidewalks here are not for
walking, but rather for street vendors, trash, dirt, and rocks. Children don’t
hesitate to cross a busy intersection that has no rules. It wasn’t unusual to
see people driving the opposite direction in our lane. I am so thankful – so
thankful – that I grew up in a city that had ZERO pollution by comparison. It
smells similar here to the way it smells at a go-kart racing track. People cook
food next to piles of trash, which is burned on the sidewalks. Anyway, I’m
thankful for the life God gave me. Nick and Andy should come here sometime,
too.
I
also saw the main killing field where Pol Pot’s regime executed thousands. I
had an audio tour. What was most horrifying was hearing the guards would hold
babies by their legs, and smash their heads against a specific tree. The
Buddhists leave bracelets and other small things to honor those who passed, or
spirits that remain…that tree was full of color, and had more bracelets than
anywhere else. They would blast revolutionary Communist music to drown the
screams so the other prisoners wouldn’t hear. They didn’t use bullets, because
those were expensive. They resorted to crude gardening tools and sharp tree
branches. The thousands of skulls displayed in the main memorial building were
covered with man-made cracks, holes, and scrapes in areas around the head,
eyes, and nose. It was weird seeing the depressions in the actual ground where
people were buried – and where skeletal remains continue to be discovered.
On
the way back to my hotel, my tuk-tuk driver let me check out the
Independence Monument. It was very cool-looking…it is in the center of a huge
round-a-bout and is surrounded by a long water fountain. I liked seeing a large
Cambodian flag proudly displayed next to it. In all honestly, I am abnormally fascinated with flags. After growing up in the U.S., I think it is pretty easy to get used to seeing Old Glory everywhere: inside classrooms and sporting arenas, or in front of homes and government buildings. After awhile, it starts to blend in and become camouflaged with its surroundings. I love going to another country and seeing their flag proudly displayed, and knowing that those colors mean something special to the people that reside in that specific country. Then, when I see my own flag...I remember what it represents and means to me.
Alright,
it’s 2208, time for bed. I’m leaving at 0730 tomorrow for S-21, a high
school-turned torture center, and maybe the Royal Palace and National Museum. I
need my rest so I can be motivated!
