Thai Time

Once again I’m like, a good week behind so here goes a full week’s worth of shiz in a few paragraphs...

I got to Bangkok last Wednesday to meet up with my sister Sarah, thus putting an end to Chapter 1 of the trip – Vietnam and Cambodia – and my solo status, for a couple weeks at least. SHE’S SO LUCKY TO GET TO ROLL WITH SUCH A COOL GIRL!!!!!!

Wow Sarah, thanks for that.

I had heard mixed things about Bangkok - mostly bad - so I didn’t have the highest of expectations. We were stayin on Khao San Road aka backpacker centrale and it was a little bit of a gong show. Kinda like a Thai Vegas strip with tourists frickin galore and Westerners generally acting like douches. Had some good street Pad Thai so I guess it was redeemed in that respect…

Still, I had to restrain myself more than once from hitting smug old dirtbags rollin’ around with young Thai girls, acting like they gamed hard to get her and earned it or something. OBVIOUSLY YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A LOSER IN YOUR OWN COUNTRY, thus, take your douchebaggery abroad? At least don’t moonlight like you’re a real couple or something ridiculous like that, with the hand holding and pretend conversations when neither of you speak the same language and such... she ain’t with you for your rugged good looks OR personality, son.

Anyway.

Serenity now.

Moving on.

So we spent all of one day in BKK before we had to get the eff out. I have to agree with whatever I’d heard about people not being fans of the place. From what I saw – obviously not much – it’s just massive and felt sort of sterile compared to Phnom Penh or Saigon. Yeah, they’re all dirty and chaotic but at least the other cities of somewhat comparable size had some weird charm underneath the insanity. Seemed like that was pretty much MIA in Bangkok. Also, EVERYONE tries to make money off you, which happens elsewhere but nowhere near as bad. Nobody can be friendly without trying to take you somewhere, sell you something, or tell you about a ping pong show… Those who’ve been know what I mean.

So we blew that giant popsicle stand and flew to Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. I’d heard good things from just about everyone that’s been there so hopes were high since Thailand was losing the race for sweetness after the intro in Bangtown.

The cab ride to the airport was actually the high point of the city. We had this hilarious taxi driver called ‘Papa Sawat’ who had the most hilarious accent and laugh. Holy catfish, that man loved life. He also enlightened us on his views on ladyboys aka the men that dress up as ladies EVERYWHERE here (which I later got asked in the south if I WAS ONE?!), and tried to teach us a children’s song about elephants in Thai… that was something of a disaster and tried is the operative word there. Not only is my mouth incapable of making those sounds, but there doesn’t seem to be any kind of a distinguishable melody after the first line… Don’t believe me, see below. (If you're reading this on Facebook, you might have to go to the actual blog to see the video... the link to the blog is somewhere on this page).

At any rate, we got the first and last lines down money so we used it to impress locals for the rest of the trip. We were getting it down pretty good; at one point actually considered putting a pointy Asian hat out upside down on the street corner to sing and earn an honest buck... I mean Baht. So cool right now.

Anyway, we got to Chiang Mai and lived in style for a couple days for a solid $2.50 a night so the place already started out on the right foot. Shoutout to the Little Bird Guesthouse heyo.

First night in CM we did a cooking course which was rad besides this one Nazi German couple in our group (snap, on second thought, that might not have been the best adjective choice…). The cutest girl teaching was possibly the smiliest individual I’ve ever met and you’d think teaching foreigners how to butcher Thai cuisine was the most fulfilling job on earth. Fortunately, we all did good and the food was bangin’. For one night at least. Too bad once we try to repeat that operation while not under her watchful tutelage we’re all toast.

There were some cool people in our group besides zee Germans though and the highlight came in the form of this Swedish couple who spoke spotty English at best so following heavily accented instructions was just NOT happenin for them. This resulted in a sort of culinary free-for-all where they just followed whoever was next to them… which worked out fine until you remember that we were all cooking different dishes. Also, all their ‘cooking’ was always done on full-blast heat… The husband for SURE accidentally threw in a few extra “special” ingredients into more than one of his dishes, especially the coconut soup.

The meal was not potluck for a reason.

Check the slick butcher aprons…

Next day was the highlight of the trip to Thailand so far (yeah it had 2 other days to compete with… back up off me). We got up at dawn, aka 8 a.m, to go elephant riding, trekking through the jungle and river rafting on both a rubber and bamboo raft. YEAH. BOY.

The elephants were amazing but somehow we got put on the smallest of the herd (gaggle? troupe? pride?) so I had to feel a little sorry for the beast. After we saw a baby one, chillin next to its parentals and had to go feed him some bananas. It was all fun and games til the mom wanted some lovin’ too and started using me as a personal punching bag til threw some fruit her way too. I still have trunk-whip wounds.

K, that might be a little excessive, but I did get hit a number of times. Good thing elephants move so slow I could dodge her nasty left hook with ease. Rumble in the Jungle vol. 2, WHAT UP.

The jungle trek was fun mostly cause Sarah and the Chinese guy in our crew decided to do it in flip flops and this turned out to be a laughably bad call. We’re hurtling through forest at a rapid pace, limbo-ing under trees, braving raging rivers on precarious bamboo “bridges”… all the while yelling ‘JUNGY!’ every 3 seconds to remember where we are and show the generic French cornflakes of our youth some love. Heids and Dad, I hear your voice every time I say it.

Got to the top, swam in a waterfall, came back.

On the way down the mountain through the morning mists, we see some livestock of the bovine persuasion peacefully grazing on the tender greens of the Thai lowlands, as they were. We slinked comfortably close to them as we passed by on the old bamboo trail. At this point, Sarah turns and brilliantly dares me to touch one of the gentle giants.

Let’s revise the scene. I’m looking deep into the soul-less eyes of this mean muthaf***a. Steel ring through his nostrils, razor-sharp horns gleaming in the blazing sun, this bull is not to be effed with. And yet, for reasons still unknown, I rise to the occasion, reach out and give the white devil a gentle pat on his velvety snout. To be fair, he was smaller than the average bear. Ahem, bull

To sum up, bulls do not like to be touched. Not when they’re sleeping, not when they’re grazing, not ever. Let that be a lesson to you city folk everywhere. My short life flashed before my eyes as he started, thought about goring me, and then had a last-minute change of heart. Thus, I fortunately not turned into human shish kabob.

Brushes with death aside, we moved on to confront the river. The “rapids” and rafting were chill. We repped for the Commonwealth with 2 Brits, an Aussie and us in our little boat. Cruising down the river, we also took out the passing boat of Germans with our paddles on the way by. That’s never happened before… After, the guide transfers us to a 25 ft bamboo raft and we’re on our own for the last bit of the trip. Mostly uneventful but how often do you get to ride a bamboo raft so it was cool enough.

And that was it for Chiang Mai.

Would’ve been cooler to stay longer but we had to get to southern Thailand cause Sarah wanted to spend a week on the beach. We decided not to fly back so night train it was. That was all good except I felt like I was sleeping in a space ship. Nothin wrong with that.

Back to Bangkok for a day and then another night train to endless beaches in the south baby.

Tastes Like Chicken

  

Cambodia. I had like 2.3 days there so the trip was way quick but man. Saw some stuff.

I rolled into Phnom Penh after the 10 hr boat ride I talked about last time and decided the girls I met on the boat were good people. Apparently the feeling was mutual and we decided to kick it together so I had friends for 2 days. Heyo.

Unbeknownst to us, the Water Festival aka the biggest fest o’ da year was going on while we were there and the city was a complete zoo. Or more of a zoo than it always is. Word on the street is the population of  The Penh straight doubles during that time so needless to say my wide-open-spaces Canadian-ness was shocked to its core. Good thing Cambodians were shocked to their core too… I thought Vietnam was bad, but staring of that impressive caliber doesn’t happen everyday. Apparently a ton of people from the country come to the city for the festival so maybe they don’t see a lot of foreigners. I don’t have all the answers but one thing I do know I scared a lot of children and small old people. Maybe one day soon I’ll get sick of talking about the staring… not yet though.

So me and the Canadian & German check into our guesthouse and decide to roam the streets. You know, mingle with the locals and such, cause everybody is out chillin’ by the river. A few steps from our door this nice lady is selling fried whole frogs and deciding to try one, we inadvertently set the tone for the evening. Yes, I have lived in France on two separate occasions. No, I never cared to try the grenouille legs while I was there. Cambodia, however, brings out something different in me and I plucked off hoppy’s thigh and threw it down my gullet. Seriously, texture and taste was like chicken but still. One was enough.

Hardened by my frog experience, man I was on to bigger things. Braving the crowds for another ten minutes and we stumble on the bug lady servin up fresh and crispy grasshoppers. Yeeeeah boi. We made this bitter American girl passing by take pictures for us and our faces pretty well capture the thoughts inside my head. The taste was actually pretty charred BBQ steak-y except every .4 seconds you remember you’re eating a bug and it all goes bad. The worst was that there were loose bits of wing and abdomen and gnarly whatnot stuck in my teeth for a good while afterwards. I kid you not.

Last, snake. I don’t have much to say about that cause it was also fried, but to oblivion so consequently it was wholly impossible to bite off the stick it came on. Like, imagine biting into fried tire. That was the texture we’re working with here. I was ok with that though cause it meant less snake to digest and my stomach was already wondering what the eff was goin on.

Anyway. The next day the buddies and I decided to do different stuff so I went to Tuol Sleng aka S-21 which was the torture museum used by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in the ‘70s.

I can’t say a lot about that because it was super intense and hard to take. Most anything I could write will in no way do the place or the victims killed there any kind of justice and will just sound trite. But needless to say, I took my time and tried to take it in. Try being the operative word because I think maybe it’s just me, but my mind mostly just can’t grasp how horrible people are capable of being to each other and what it really means to be tortured, killed and thrown into a mass grave for no reason besides existing at the wrong place in the wrong time. I sort of felt like I’d get 2 second breakthroughs and be able to start to wrap my head around what really went down there and then it was gone again… and I could only sort of try to understand in a totally disconnected, lame intellectual way. That makes little to no sense but maybe somebody that’s been there or to a concentration camp or something similar gets what I tried to mean. Visiting Auschwitz was a similar experience for me. Heavy.

 

After spending a lot of the afternoon there, I decided to just chill and walk around the city. I was supposed to go to the Killing Fields which is one of the mass graves they found in Cambodia but an expat I met at breakfast said since the city is so crazy right now, it could be really hard to get back in if I left to go the 20 or so km. Also, I was kind of thinking that might not be so good for me in terms of ever being able to feel happy again so I decided against it for that day. Wish I would’ve gone but maybe next time.

Hung out for the rest of the day but most stuff including the Royal Palace, Silver Pagoda and other sights were closed so I decided to go to the gym and workout. I am probably 1 of 2 people all time that has come to Cambodia to work out…. but since I restart training w/ natty team like 2 weeks after I get home in Dec., I figure I should make at least a weekly effort to maintain…

This turned out to be one of the worst ideas I’ve had in a while. The streets were PACKED like I have never seen before and after getting like 3/4 there on a moto, I have to get off and walk. Unfortunately this quickly comes to a complete, and I mean complete, halt like 15 m after I start walking. Literally there are people from one side of the street pressed up against buildings all the way to the other side so there is nowhere to go but wait and shuffle 2 steps every 4 mins. I’m serious when I say it took a full hour to go less than 300 m to the gym door.

I’m standing there in the midst of a crowd of black heads, being tall, and all of a sudden this little teenage girl grabs hold of my arm and says “I told my friend you are big so it’s OK”. I was like, well alright then. Can’t argue with that.

She talks to me for another 10 mins or so before it comes out that she’s disabled and has prosthetic legs so I can only imagine that manhandling crowds like that can’t be easy. And now it all makes sense why she’s holding on to me (remember, wall to wall people so I couldn’t see her legs…). Anyway, her English is really good so I asked her if she wants to see what’s going on since I have a good, I dunno foot, on the thousands of people in the immediate surroundings. She was dying giggling to her friend but I took that as a yes and proceeded to cause even more of a ruckus than I already naturally do. Let us picture the scene: Phnom Penh by night. I don’t even know how many people. Me holding a tiny Cambodian over my head, gladiator-style.

Luckily, about 10 seconds after I picked her up the crowds moved enough for me to go the last 15 m to the gym so I set her down and jammed. Piggy back complete, my work there was done kids.

Worked out in the most beautiful gym of my life, ate and by 11 the crowds had finally thinned enough to get home. Next day was Siem Reap & Angkor Temples but my lappy battery is about to die so that’s another story for another day.

P.S In an unrelated note, my sister Sarah’s contribution is to say there’s a monk on the bunk next to us on the night train to Bangkok. Bunk mates? .…monk mates! (Wow. HER WORDS, not mine. Dad: she’s doing you proud with the horrible jokes).

 

Kickin’ It Solo In Nam Baby

 

Note: Since I’m in SE Asia, posts are about to get a little long since I actually have stuff to talk about… at least for the next 2 months. Just a little boredom disclaimer beforehand. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also, since I’m lazy see the end for picture link.

Note: I also just like saying Nam.

So it’s my 4th day in Asia and I’m on a tiny boat slowly riding up the Mekong River to cross from Vietnam to Cambodia. Like literally, I’m on the river as I type this and listenin to a little Jimi Hendrix. What else would I be listening to in Asia you ask. I have about 47, 586 things to say but I’ll try to keep it relatively short cause these can get boring and I’m all about the fun around here.

I’m alone for this first week while I kick it in Nam and Cambodia ‘til my sister Sarah meets me in Bangkok on Nov 4th. I flew into Saigon aka Ho Chi Minh City Wednesday night after a 25 hr trip. I actually felt relatively coherent on arrival and somehow had energy to spend like 20 minutes haggling with taxi drivers to get me to my hotel for a semi-reasonable price. Obviously they instantly know I’m not from around there so things are always at least double if not more.

The city is absolutely insane and chaotic but awesome. There are a billion motos roaming the streets causing mad noise cause everyone uses their horn every 2.2 seconds to let people know they are coming. I saw a lady carrying 2 baskets hanging on either end of a stick slung across her shoulders and wearing one of those classic Asia pointy hats (that probably have a name but I like mine) and I was like dude. I’m here.

Crossing the street is for sure the scariest thing I’ve done so far in my young life, as it basically consists of just walking out into the middle of traffic (since there is never ever any break) and just letting vehicles/motos/bikes go around you. I was about peeing my pants but saw this old lady just give ‘er and go so I figured if she could, I had to man up and do it too.

I went to Ben Tranh market the next morning and immediately got bombarded with like 20 ladies selling any and everything and trying to take me by the hand to their stall that is identical to the next 10… I’ve never been yelled at so much. “Miss! You wan handbag? You wan tshirt? Miss! What you look for? Miss!”  Gah.

Did some other stuff in the city including the War Remnants Museum and lessened my previous ignorance on the bad stuff went down during the war. Anything I say about war will sound trite but dang. Met a Brit girl in line so I had a friend for the afternoon and had a chat over some Pho. The food here is so tasty so far. I also realized once again how much I suck with chopsticks and I’m sure the restaurant people are just loving watching me struggle so they can thank me later for the entertainment.

After dinner I had an interesting experience. I decided to get a massage by this place recommended in my book. It’s run by the blind association of HCMC so I get in there and hope they realize I’m standing at the desk. They do and I go into this big room divided up like in the movies of ‘40s war hospitals. The girl that worked on my bones was talking with whoever was working in the cubicle next door the ENTIRE hour and this was at 8 pm so who knows what they chat about all day long…? Anyway, it was money and all for $2.

Next day, My Tho & Ben Tre on the Mekong River Delta. I took a 20-min taxi to the bus station for like $7 and then paid $1.50 for a 2-hr bus to My Tho. Funny how that works here. I was the only Westerner I saw anywhere at the bus station and absolutely smoked my head on the ceiling of the bus when I got on. The floor is of course raised when you first get up the stairs… This was in addition to the minimum 3 times I ran my head into the 5 ft doorframe at my hostel. Lovely. I noticed everyone was sitting on the same side of the bus so I follow the crowd and turns out Vietnamese know which side the sun will be on for a trip and sit accordingly. These people are brilliant.

My Tho was cool but I realized on arrival I had no idea where I wanted to go. A moto guy steps in and takes me to the river where I book a boat tour around for a few hours. Once again the hotel owner setting it up tries (and succeeds somewhat) in massively ripping me off despite bartering with him for at least 20 mins. Neither my boat driver or “guide” spoke a word of English besides ‘coconut’ and ‘tip money’ so it was a long, silent ride to Unicorn and Phoenix Islands (no joke) but I like to pretend it was good for me in some meditative monk-like way or something. Turns out I was just really bored. I kid, it was cool and parts were absolutely gorgeous. Plus I got to wear a python,one of those pointy round thatched Asia hats that scream Asia, hold a honeycomb teeming with bees and eat dried ginger and  little baby bananas (not plantains, I promise). What more do you need in life.

Even better, the restaurant we go to for lunch has snake, iguana, turtle, eel, crocodile, in addition to the usual tamer meats on the menu. Like it ain’t no thang. Unfortunately I settled on something without parents and had veggie fried rice. The python I wore earlier lives to see another day…

K, this is not short but I only have 2 more days so bear with me.

So mini-bus trip to Can Tho after the boat tour. It was interesting cause the dude driving just stops whenever the 1st mate guy in the back sees someone that needs picking up and yells while angrily slapping the side of the van. I always like road travel here cause there are people all along the way – no open spaces along road like in Canada – and something to look at.

Case in point – a man is walking a GIANT, for real horse-size pig down the side of the road on a literal leash. Like it’s going somewhere.  That’s not an exaggeration, seriously the biggest pig I’ve ever seen and he’s just trotting down the interstate on a rope. I also saw a group of guys playing volleyball on a cement court with just a rope and some threads of what used to be the net. It’s like hardcore streetball... next thing I know they’re gonna be using chains on the net for volleyball too. It would take illegally touching the net to a whole new level – touch the net? Lose a finger!

Yes, I literally played that all out in my imagination as we drove by.

We stop at a little restaurant/market for a short break and I apparently caused quite a stir cause people are staring like never before. At this point I haven’t seen a foreigner in a while, so maybe they don’t get many around these parts…? Anyway, this young kid working at the restaurant eventually works up the courage to say hello and all his friends just die. At the same time this man walks up and decides to shoot a quick drive-by pic on his phone . So I hand my camera to someone and the crew that has gathered and phone guy jump in. Meanwhile I look up and pretty much the whole marketplace is watching this little show go down. It was funny to see people react like that but so far it is always friendly and I don’t get the feeling they are staring out of anything other than curiosity.  It’s a weird feeling to be the only person that looks like you anywhere nearby.

Can Tho was where I thought I’d meet my death. I get off the bus after sundown and moto guy agrees to take me to my hotel. Next thing I know, we’re driving down this shady dirt road which opens up to a platform on the water. No way out, I’m thinking. We get down there and there are some colorful characters just lingering and I’m like OH snap. What the eff is this. Right about as I picture getting chopped up to be fed to the fishies for breakfast, moto dude informs me that we gotta take the ferry over to Chau Doc. Of course! Ferry dock... Information that would’ve been useful to me 5 minutes ago while I just about peed my pants back there.

Can Tho was a meh city but I did another boat tour on the Mekong and visited these floating markets at Cai Rang. The boats are really interesting, most al made of wood and have eyes painted on the front so they got real swagger on the water. Tons of small long, skinny shallow boats carrying fruits & veg to the market and lots more pointy Asia hats which we all know I love. We head off the main river into smaller canals and it’s really gorgeous and peaceful with coconut palms and massive bamboo shoots shading the river. Most everyone we pass waves or smiles, or maybe smirking cause I’m alone in probably the slowest moving boat on the river... I’m not even mad about it. I’m soaking it up in NAM baby.

Last city on the agenda before I head to Cambodia is Chau Doc. Pretty non-descript but I went up Sam ‘Mountain’ which is actually a large hill where there are sweeping views of the river and surrounding rice paddies. Twas cool to see the landscape a bit from above. I decided to walk down and quickly realized these are the friendliest people I’ve met yet. Pretty much every other person says hello, especially the children.

This group of schoolboys was playing this hacky sack type game but with what kind of looks like a giant badminton birdie; same idea anyway with a weighted end and a feather. They called me over so at first I just took pictures but decided to jump in and show them my skillz. I sucked. They laughed. Alot. Good times.

So that brings us to sitting on a boat on the way to Phnom Penh, 8 hrs into the trip. There are 3 other Canadians from Halifax & Ottawa on the boat and this 21-yr old German girl that lives my dream life and has been travelling around Australia & SE Asia for the last YEAR AND A HALF. Fricken unreal. Had some good chats with the Canadians about Halloween, big chocolate bars, that rolling log driver song (look it up on YouTube, you’ll remember it I promise), and Road to Avonlea. All the Canadians out there that watched it - you know you did - throw ya hands up. Ah the bad Canadian television that binds.

So that’s what up in a nutshell. For those that were concerned (Dad I’m lookin at you), I’m still alive. This place is unbelievable and every so often I have to pinch myself and remember where I am. Only like 7 more weeks and I realized I have like absolutely NO time to see even half of what I wanna see but it’s cool. Return trips are for sure already in order. I gotta go switch boats so the novel ends… See you in a few days.

See pics on the Fbook. You know my name.

I've Been MIA (I got more records than the KGB too)

Who am I? Where am I? What in fresh heck is goin on?

I don't know why we all look like Skeletor.
Somebody get the camera people on that.

Well, today I made cookies in a cake pan.

I also accidentally almost-burnt them. You know, when they're walkin the thin line between edible and construction site material but you were so looking forward to delectable cookie flavour in your mouth that you have to eat the whole batch before they get cold and rock-friggin-hard. I know you know what I'm talkin about. Run-on sentences. Don't judge. We've alllll done it.

I mention this because, well, I don't really have anything really newsworthy goin on, but this corner of the Interwebs has been sadly neglected for a while now so I had to come up with somethin. Not my best material but then, as I was indulging in rapidly-hardening cookie #6, I realized the whole cookie debacle is something of a really bad metaphor for my life in Peg City at le moment.

It's like this: I moved outta residence like a month ago, so I'm moving up in the world and now live in a real house with a real kitchen. Hallelujah. That means I have the opportunity to make cookies and other delicious baked goods again. Unfortunately my apartment is a little ghetto and the aesthetics leave a lil somethin' somethin' to be desired. I'm not complaining though and I don't blame my apartment; it's just that it's been in the care of a constant stream of rando Team Canada athletes since like, 1970. Consequently, the furniture and decor reflect this.

No big deal though, I live for free-fifty so I live it and love it like it's my own (this is the part of the story where I make my point). Basically, I was thinkin, this apartment - and city for that matter - has everything I need but just don't expect it to be pretty. So it's like, sure you can make cookies. Sure. But you're gonna have to do 'em up in an old cake pan, in a rusty mustard-yellow oven that, like a sprained ankle, ain't nothin to play with. Otherwise it'll burn your cookies right up cause it's apparently a lot hotter than its dusty knobs indicate. Peg city also has what you need but it's not gonna be pretty either and when it gets pretty (via a thick blanket of fluffy white snow to cover itself up) it's too cold, and your eyeballs freeze off, and you can't even see to enjoy the winter wonderland. Knawnsayin? Sad truth.

That was the best I could do... My future in writing is bleak.

Well, let's rundown whatup then. First off, I met MC Hammer. He played a show here and suffice it to say, the man still has it (notice how I held back on Can't Touch This and 2 Legit 2 Quit references).

Proof. The Man & the Legend.

Secondly, we qualified for world's! Bladow. The team went to Mexico a few weeks ago and killed it dead at the last qualifier so say hello to world championships next summer in Japan. Should be good.

Stayin with that theme, I leave for Puerto Rico and our last tournament of la saison in t-minus 7 days. Back to island living, except we play 6 games in 6 days sans break so people's bodies are about to be hurtin. Bad. We don't play Brazil this time but the US and Cuba are there so we have our work cut out.

After that though, is when the party starts. Maybe. Depending on some stuff to be determined this week, I have to come back to Winnipeg for full-time training in either November or January. That means the two sweetest words in the English language: time.off. BABY. 2 words? 3 words? Whatever. I do love my team and coach, but time off is THE BUSINESS. I can't help it... I can't wait.

If training starts in November, then I'm goin to Europa for a few weeks to get money my old club still owes me and visit good people - Desma I'm lookin' at you. If it's January, a 2-month world tour is in order. I'm thinkin' like India or Thailand or Africa or something. Somewhere new fo' sho.

So here's where the 3 of you that are still reading come in... Who wants to come? See, I'm cool with doing the Asia/Africa thing on the solo - but then sometimes I picture dark alleys and spiders and I think maybe that's a bad call - not to mention my mom will fear for my life for 2 straight months. In the interest of Helen's health, I'm all, OK sweet I'll find a buddy to do it up with, preferably a dude that can beat on crazies and fight tigers if we get lost in the jungle and stuff.

Unfortunately, I pinched myself and remembered I'm going in November or somewhere 'round thurr and who isn't working/schooling/doing-something-important during that time of year? The unemployed or homeless and they have no dimes to drop on world travel.

What. I'm just saying.

So for the rest of you out there that somehow have that time open, step up to the plate. I know you're creepin', with your headlights off, reading this blog thinkin you're sly... But come outta the woodwork and let's go to Asia. Or wherever that's not Europe. I'm open to suggestions and I'm not even a little bit kidding. Comment away.

Mailbox in the club? Check.
Just think of the postcards we could send.

Dear Summer

Central Park. What up.

I've been patiently waiting for summer to show up while biding my time in Peg City which has, I'm told, been experiencing its coldest summer on record this year. I don't even wanna check on that, I just know I had to wade through knee-deep snow drifts on my way to the gym a couple times already this summer so I'll just chalk it up to a little taste of what's to come this winter... More on that later.

Right. Sweet.

I think last I wrote I was kickin it on the sandy shores of South Beach. A lot happened after that so to sum it up, let me just say it's remarkable how much mayhem occurs in a month. Post-Miami, I had a little trip with Team Canada to Puerto Rico for a world championship qualifier tournament; rocked NYC for a few days off with my mama; then rolled to Phoenix for the last 5 days of my break. Oh and I turned 23... I'm officially old bones.

Looks like 23 is about to be an interesting year for me. That sounds all deep but I found out/decided in July that I'm gonna be staying in Winnipeg longer than originally expected - aka peacing it PROMPTLY at the end of the season with the natty team - so note to self: I'll be gone 'til November. Ooooor make that May. Snap.

Turns out the head coach they brought in here this year is a baller and is pretty much the best I've had in, oh I don't know, five years so I figure it's a good situation to get to stay and work with him as long as possible. Enter the "You have a lot of potential but you're still really raw" line I've been fed my entire life, and I think I'm due to finally come up good on that. Somehow it doesn't have the same motivating effect it did when I was 14. So I decided that instead of goin back to Europe to play pro who-knows-where, I'ma be back on familiar ground and I'll be in Canada until next fall. Assuming I live through the winter here.

For those in the know, I'm cold approximately... all the time and this is what I attribute my having been miserable for the first 18 years of my life to. And I'm not even kidding. I was not made for this climate. I done did that and that's why I left and moved to possibly the hottest city in North America for university. That was not by chance my friends. People shouldn't live here and suffice it to say that living in Canada through my first winter in 5 years is about to test the limits of my will to live. Gifts in the form of wool mitts and seal skin parkas are welcomed. Eff.

Talkin about that is bringin' me down so I'm just gonna focus on the next 2 months of somewhat bearable weather and the volleyball tasks at hand. We have our next world's qualifier in Tijuana at the end of the month. I'm thinkin maybe I should get over the whole weather thing here and focus on not getting gang-banged on the way to a game. Just sayin. After Mexico, we roll back to Puerto Rico for another tournament at the end of September. Then it's freedom for a month until full-time training starts here again in November and I'm back on the grind for good.

That's about enough writing for one day so here's some pictures of the delights over the last month...

Raptor arm stance? The Brazilians liked it.

Love these kids

Faker smiles were never captured on film

Everyday I'm hustlin'

Bored maybe

Witness the Carnage

NYC with the Moms. The required tourist shot.

R.I.P MJ... Harlem pays its respects

Old used hats. Never/always a good look?
I probably have rabies from putting that on.

Dinner with fam

And yeah, I don't know what's up with the picture quality on here. Mad apologies

Good Morning, Miami

Here I am in the place where I come let go/
Miami the base and the sunset glow

High quality rhymes from Mr. Smith back in his heyday. My favourite part of the song is when he calls out the – ah, forget it. I’ll keep it moving as fast as possible, cause there are things overwhelmingly more necessary to discuss than that obnoxious concoction… just YouTube it. You won’t be disappointed after seeing the choice dance moves and how high Will Smith’s pants were ridin back in ‘98. Also, watch for the part where he says “jig it out”. Jig it out? I don’t think that was said, let alone cool in ‘98, nor will it ever be. But moving on.

After 6 weeks of strugglin’ with Team Canada in Peg City, it was time to see if we actually have the skills to pay the bills. Wednesday we rolled out to Miami for PanAm Cup and we’re here til July 4th, reppin for the homeland. After getting up at 3:30 am, we were looking real nice and fit right in with the locals but so far, it’s goin’…

We opened the tournament vs. Brazil a.k.a ranked #1 in the world (sidenote - how often do you ever get to say that? IN. THE. WORLD.) a.k.a m’freaking Beijing Olympic gold medalists. You just can’t really argue with cred like that. Needless to say they taught us a thing or two... The game can essentially be summed up in the following statement – they made 1 hitting error in the entire game. ONE.

Respect.

So we moved on to today vs. the Dominican Republic and we shoulda taken care of biznass but did some unfortunate stuff and lost in 4. Yadda yadda yadda. You live and learn? Or at any rate, you live.

Come and see how good we look.

So we have tomorrow off and then play Argentina and Trinidad & Tobago before hopefully finishing well enough for playoffs later in the week.

After we finish hurr, we roll to Puerto Rico on July 5th for a world championship qualifier tournament which is for all the marbles. We need to win the tournament (there’s only 3 other teams there… doable) to qualify for next summer in Japan. Heyo. And we also get an extra week off if we do. So eyes on the prize baby, we gotta pull it out bigtime.

Also, to sum up the last 6 weeks quickly:

• Peru came up (#17 in world rankings) and played a few games against us in Winnipeg.
• I had a weekend off and surprised my German in Phoenix. Too good to be back in the 480, I’m tellin’ you… I miss the people down there. Maybe I’ll write about that if I get bored enough in the next few days.
• Lastly, one of my top 5 favourite people, a.k.a my cousin Meg, got married last weekend in Alberta so I got to roll out there to be in the wedding. She was stunning and it was rad to see the fam for a short 48 hrs. Shoutout to the new Mr. & Mrs. Cano.

Anyway, back to the situation at hand. Miami is sweet? Well so far it’s just hot & humid as balls but we’re goin to South Beach tomorrow so my feelings on the place should improve significantly. Still, tonight I was walkin’ to the gym, listening to some chill hiphop with a nice little piano beat and just watched the sunset through the palms. And I had to think life’s not bad sometimes. Then I tripped on my flip flop, and we lost our game. Ha. That ended fast. Still, it’s nice to finally get out after training 33 hrs a week and play some games. And yeah we got bored enough to count that up.

What’s Good.

So it turns out my country’s finest wanted me back. Surprise. Yeah I was.

After playing jr. national as a young’un back in ‘04, I’m apparently back in the national team game after a short 5-year break. It’s weird to say “years ago” for anything ‘cause that means I’m starting to get old and before I know it I’ma be throwin the “I did that 30 years ago” line out there… it’s all downhill from here.

So yeah, the situation at hand. After a grueling 4 days of tryouts and more soreness (or muscle fever as my Bulgarian teammate called it. Gold. Pure gold.), the powers that be decided I somehow still have the chops to rep for my country and they’ll have me. Translation: a few months toiling in the armpit of Canada… Winnipeg aka Peg-City aka Hell.

The new head coach is a German cat and so far seems like a good dude so I’m concluding that decent people come out of that country. Lately at least… Shout out to My German. Miss that kid.

I don’t really know which team I’m on yet so that means a few things but mainly logistical questions of how long I’ll be here and where I’ll be headin’ for games and such. Serbia vs. Puerto Rico & Miami. I’m cool with whatever.

Beyond that, I have approximately nothing to say because my days literally consist of nothing but eating, practicing, sleeping and a solid diet of NBA playoff games spliced in between. LeBron for the title man. Oh yeah and his team or whatever.

So it’s a ballin’ life… 8 days in and it’s maybe starting to get old but I remind myself that I signed up for this and it’s fun to ball with some old buddies I haven’t played with back in the homeland for a while now. So what I meant by that is it's a rare privilege and an honour… Yes yes y’all.

Summer ‘09. Gonna be real.