Among the most rewarding experiences of my Mt. Meru trek was hanging out at the end of each day with the community of mountain guides, porters, cooks and rangers. Unlike other mzungus who often segregate themselves from their guides at the end of the day, I sought out the guides' companionship. Many spoke fluent English and wanted nothing more from me than to talk about their lives and learn a little about mine.
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Jeju-do, as it's known in Korean, translates as the Peace Island, and with good reason. A blanket of tranquility seems to have descended over this little rocky outcrop, located 48km from the southern coast of the Korean Peninsula. Jeju is an isle shaped by the elements and coloured by the seasons. The tiny island is not only famous for its fields of yellow flowers and bands of hardy diving women, but also as a place of myths and legends, and pristine nature.
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The canal walk feels like a behind-the-scenes tour through local life here, and that's the magic of it. You stroll a few feet from peoples' bedrooms in brightly-painted houseboats, marvel at the sleek new warehouse conversions on the opposite bank mixed in with decrepit actual warehouses, peer into peoples' back gardens that open out onto to the water... it's all so normal, really, but all so utterly interesting. When I turn a corner and the evening light's at the right angle, the canal looks like a stream of gold.
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We arrived at the Port au Prince airport and proceeded through customs without incident. As we made our way through the streets of Port au Prince, the sights unfolding before our eyes confirmed the destruction and devastation we had all seen in worldwide news coverage. Rubble everywhere, refuse filling canals and streets, and what remained of the Presidential Palace.
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