A little warning sign on the overhead bin of a Malaysia Airlines 737…

Being from a developed Western country, HIV and AIDS has generated enough buzz over the past two decades—for me, since Magic Johnson revealed his infection—to become a reality we are well aware of.  Still, it is understandably an extremely uncomfortable topic for most of us, and fortunately because of the education and preventive measures widely available, it has never exploded to the point where every one of us is close with someone who is infected.

Maybe that’s why I was shocked to learn that more than 10 percent of the South African population is HIV positive.

I had heard before about the problems that many African nations have had with AIDS.  But my clouded vision imagined an epidemic that was only running through uneducated, disconnected rural tribes, lacking modern means of communication and modern societal infrastructures.  But when you land in Johannesburg, it feels no different from landing in any populated and expansive city in America—with modern glass buildings, bustling expressways and neat housing sub-divisions all around.  I guess it is this contrast from what I expected that really made me take notice.

Ten percent.  Imagine that proportion in your workplace, or on your athletic teams.  Imagine it in your apartment complex, or in your own extended family.  And South Africa is a modern, middle-income, industrial society, with parts that don’t feel any different from Kansas or California.  With the mere mention of HIV or AIDS being such a jaw-dropping conversation-stopper in America, it really makes you think.  How does that impact a typical night of alcohol-enhanced fun for an immature university student?  Or even the trust level of committed couples?

I was even more shocked to learn that as recently as 2008, the country had a Minister of Health that that endorsed lemon, garlic and beetroot as the cure for AIDS, and even attempted to stop the distribution of antiretroviral medicines in the country.  As recently as two-thousand-and-eight!  Fortunately, South Africa’s leadership has finally recognized the reality of AIDS prevention and offered some genuine leadership in providing education to contain the epidemic, but the whole situation in general is something that really makes you think, especially if you’ve been to South Africa and experienced the present-day culture.

A night out in Cape Town

It is of little wonder, that old stereotype about the French having a general disdain for Americans, when you consider that for years we simply cannot, will not, and have not even attempted to pronounce even their name correctly.  How would you feel if you were a young Chopin, cooking up masterpieces on the keys, and people butchered your name like a sous chef chopping vegetables?  Or keeping on that composer theme, a young Samuel Scheidt?  I won’t even go there.

Say it with me, my peeps: Fraaaaaahhhnce.

France is sexy.  Maybe you have to feel sexy before your American-trained tongue can say it right…so set that ambience.  It’s just a little nuance.  No need for a séance, you just have to mentally go to France!  So say it with me…Fraaaaaahhhhhnce.  We can write it in whatever fonts you like.  Get it wrong and be ready for some serious taunts.

I hope you didn’t say “Freance”, or I won’t give you another chance.  Go to a discotheque in Oberkampt and you’ll see a bunch of rhythmically-challenged Frenchmen dancing like they have ants in their pants, not a pretty sight.  So why should it rhyme?  When in France, there’s no need for pants at all—we’re going for sexy, remember?

So just remember….ambience.  Get a positive response…

Fraaaaaaaaahhhnce. 

Fraaaaaaaanhhce.

Fraaaaaaahnce.

Fraaaahnce.

Fraaance.

France.

Let’s go!

This wasn’t my initial descent, and wasn’t even a descent, but instead a land crossing. I had been to Vancouver several times prior to this visit, but I had to share this experience, as it was my first time to encounter any trouble whatsoever with Canadian border authorities.

Driving from Seattle (which can often be the cheapest way of getting to and around in Vancouver if you’re counting), I usually cross the border at Peace Arch along US Interstate 5. Today, however, I listened to the wait times, and heard that it was backed up. So I tried the alternate crossing along State Route 543, just a few miles from Peach Arch. While I’m often heading into Vancouver solo, this time I had company in the form of my friend and snowboarding buddy, Shaun.

The line of cars wasn’t long, but when we got to the front, we were asked to pull aside and step out of the car. For a moment I thought it may have been a race thing, given Shaun’s long, dangling dreadlocks and the dearth of black people in this part of the world. But then I considered how truly diverse Vancouver is (for races other than black—though this is changing), and figured that couldn’t be the case. We were taken into a waiting room, and left for what felt like hours without being given any information. Then Shaun was called into a back room, taken for questioning, only to come out 15 minutes later with a clearance for us to proceed along our way.

Wondering what the hell had just happened during a routine border crossing I had made countless times before, Shaun explained that about 6 years ago, he had a misdemeanor marijuana possession charge on his record in the U.S. That basically means he was found carrying marijuana without any intent to distribute, and only in a quantity that one person could use. And it was 6 years ago!! Further, he was issued a warning that if something like that happened again, he wouldn’t be allowed to return.

Apparently, this was enough to trip Canada’s border authorities, which I found incredibly hypocritical given the fact that individual marijuana possession is legal in the state we had just physically crossed over from (Washington), and given my awareness of Vancouver’s relaxed attitude towards the drug. While it is not technically legal, most Vancouverites I know engage in some healthy smoking from time to time, and there are even cafes that allow it in public. As long as there isn’t distribution involved or some widespread disturbance, law enforcement tends to bat a blind eye.

Myself & Shaun celebrating our admittance into BC

So regardless of what your transgression is, just be aware that you may have some issues crossing the border into Canada if this applies to you! And it may be completely shocking and surprising to you as well, all the more so once you understand how generally tolerant the average Canadian is!

These people obviously didn’t have to cross the border in Blaine

I’ve always thought Australians sucked….and guess what I saw as verification on the bus to Melbourne Airport the other day? Why, you guessed it!  The Biggest Lollie Shop in the World!  (Yes, they call them “lollies” and no, I don’t actually think Australians suck—it was a joke, folks!).

This is surely one of the more unique shops I’ve ever tripped across, though…and a wonderful reason to visit the great, quirky, fun city of  Melbourne! (Actually, it’s located in the suburb of Tullamarine, but who’s counting?)

The shop itself, as you may be able to imagine, is basically a mecca of all types of candy, featuring a huge variety of lollies, chocolates, and other sugary sensations. A full kilo of lollies will set you back about $5 AUD, at least if you’re willing to settle for the house brand. Don’t forget to check out the chocolate covered fruits and candies, as well as the ample selection of party favors!

Heathrow Airport, Terminal 3…

There is a joke in Argentina—New Yorkers are proud while Argentinians are humble. This is because while New Yorkers are always looking up, presumably at the buildings surrounding them, Argentinians are always looking down.  Why?

Pardon my crassness, but no discussion of Argentina can be complete without bringing the dog poop that is firmly entrenched as sidewalk decor all over the capital, as well as Argentina’s other cities.  So, if you want to be Porteño for a day, it’s okay to dream big, but keep your head down! I don’t post this to be, umm, foul…just conveying a fact of daily life in the streets (and sidewalks) of this canine-friendly place.

See some of the different styles below…I just wonder, are these pups the culprits?

“So Small Could Fool You…”

“Fresh Brew…”

“Lump Sum…”

“Spacey Special…”

“Dragged Out…”

And last, but certainly not least (disgusting), the “Already on My Floor at Home…”