Mountains, Cheese, and Jazz

After a sleepover in Heathrow Airport, we wearily boarded the plane for Switzerland at 7:00 AM. We arrived in the small town of Wohlen, Switzerland on Friday morning. Wohlen is about an hour south-west of Zurich and from the google maps picture, it looked like we would spend the next few days sitting and watching the cows graze on the hillsides. We couldn't have been more wrong.

On arriving to Switzerland, we traveled to their local magnet school, and we met our hosts. They were all students our age and they were very good at English. In this area of Switzerland, they all speak Swiss German, High German, and some English. Swiss-German is a type of German that has very little grammar and is mostly unintelligible to anyone who knows German such as Jack. We had lunch at the school, and then prepared for our half hour concert for the whole school. The students were expecting some boring Harvard classical music, and I think they were a quite surprised when we start hopping around and singing songs about counting to 40. The students loved the performance and they all were asking us to sign the cd’s we were selling. It was definitely a Din rock star moment that I heard only happens in Singapore!After this, we all went to a river outside of Wohlen, where we had a traditional “grill”. A grill is basically a barbecue but you have to make the fire and you mostly cook sausage. Some Dins played a strange game called Kubb, while others attempted to make serpent bread by baking dough on a stick over the fire. 
That night we sang at the house of the woman who set up our visit. She held a lovely dinner party for her friends and family and we had the privileged of singing in their beautiful garden, chatting with guests, and snacking on some of the deliciously prepared food.

That night, David and I went to our home stay in Fahrwangen, an even smaller area outside of Wohlen where we stayed with a wonderful Swiss family. We talked with Michelle, their daughter for a long time about the Dins and Switzerland. Surprisingly, I learned that she was an exchange student at Monroe Woodbury High School in New York a few years ago, only a 45 minute drive from my hometown of Montgomery. I still can’t fathom the odds that my home stay in the middle of the Swiss countryside has visited Valley Central High School, and probably took the SAT’s at Monroe Woodbury at the same time I did. The world isn’t as big as we may think it is! The next day the group of host students planned an outing to the mountains. David and I experienced an authentically delicious Swiss breakfast with croissants and an incredible dish called Birchermusesli, pronounced Beer-her-musely. It has oatmeal, yogurt, and all different types of fresh fruit. We met the others and took an hour and a half train ride south to a mountain near the alps.    

 


We all went on this fun sled/luge ride down the mountain in these small carts with a hand brake. It was quite thrilling as you flew down the mountain in this metal half pipe and banked around curves going very fast. Some of the Dins didn’t think they needed the handbrake to go around the curves and now they have some nice skid burns to prove their need for speed. Also at the mountain, they had a very long suspension walking bridge that went over a ravine. We of course spent 5 minutes finding it’s resonance and  took some pictures as it swayed around (some Dins are nerds). My group of Dins and hosts went for a hike up the mountain and had lunch on a hillside facing the jaw-droppingly beautiful Swiss Alps. 

On the way home, we stopped at Zug, Switzerland where a few of us rented paddle boats and went onto the lake to paddle around and go swimming. For dinner, I ate at Kai and Eric’s host, and she treated us to a real fondue meal named Raclette. It involved putting Swiss cheese in a tray with slices of sausage on top, melting it under a hot plate, and then pouring the cheesey-meaty magma over boiled potatoes to create a delicious customizable dish. Absolutely stuffed from that, we sang our big 70 minute public concert at the school again and the audience really loved it. We had a party with the hosts that night, and we were amazed that in under 48 hours, we felt like we were good friends with these people.

From the conversations I’ve heard, all of the Dins absolutely loved Switzerland thanks to our generous and friendly hosts. So thank you to them, and onward we travel to Saarland, Germany!  

Oxford, England: A Little Taster

Oxford wasn't our first stop (London was), but I'll be blogging about our short but lovely time in Oxford as it gives a little taster to our stay in overall stop in England.

We arrived in Oxford from London early in the morning on the 14th, energized by two whole days of leisurely exploration of England's grand capital. At Oxford, we were met by our friends, the Oxford Gargoyles, Oxford university's co-ed jazz a cappella group. We had hosted them for a few days in March when they toured the East Coast, so we were equally excited to have the favor returned.

 All of us were thoroughly blown away by the quaint beauty of Oxford University, the second-oldest surviving university in the world. While Harvard may have just celebrated its 375th anniversary, Oxford has been around since the 11th century. That's even older than I am, so that's saying a lot. (For our alums's benefit: Long story short, I served two years in the Singapore army, so I'm a 23-year-old sophomore old man.)

We were given a tour of several colleges, including Worcester and Christ Church. Each college is steeped in history in its own rich way, and I appreciated how the meditative tranquility of Oxford found expression in its Gothic architecture.

Despite the glorious scenery and buildings, the best of our Oxford stop was punting. Punting, akin to rowing a Venetian gondola, is quite a big thing in Oxford, so we were quite excited - if not a little curious - at the entire prospect of being in a boat propelled by pushing a pole against the river bed. The 12 of us were split up into three boats of somewhat varying expertise in punting, so one boat (the members of which shall remain  anonymous) had a bit of a struggle against the strong river currents. Nevertheless, in classic English fashion, we enjoyed a lovely tea consisting of scones and muffins on the river.

At the end of our journey, Ben and Sean did a wonderful bridge-hopping stunt, whereby one stands on the deck of the punt, grabs the bridge as it passes overhead, then climbs across it as quickly as possible and drops down onto the punt as it passes out under the other side of the parapet. 

I can safely say that punting was the best experience we've all had so far. It was a totally new experience, and it was made wonderful by the generous and fun-loving Oxford Gargoyles. Many snaps to them!

We rounded off our short day in Oxford with a short gig at a nearby pub. We took turns singing a few songs with the Gargoyles, to much enthusiasm and applause by the audience. Here's a video I found on youtube which showcases us:

Eventually, we had to leave for Zurich, Switzerland via Heathrow, but not before bidding farewell to our gracious and wonderful hosts. We truly enjoyed our stop in Oxford, and we hope we can return soon. Stay tuned for many more tour updates! :)

Photo credit: Alex Miller

Once More, Around the World

It's time once again for ... The Din & Tonics' World Tour! As the only current member who went on the 2010 tour, I thought I'd kick the blogging off this time around.

There's something surreal about the prospect of getting to do this crazy thing not once, but twice. Scratch that, it seems pretty much impossible. But then again, the reality of what we were doing never quite hit me last time, either: 10 weeks, your best friends, and the world... it's pretty hard to believe. And now, I guess lightning is going to strike a second time. This time, I'd like to think I'm going through this a few years older and a little bit wiser, but honestly, I just feel the same childish excitement all over again. For me, this tour will be quite a bit more tour-managing and not quite as much sitting back and staring wide-eyed at the unfolding craziness. That means more emails, more phone calls, and more scheduling to make sure there are no more easyJets or Cypruses. But I've had an extremely able crew of fellow tour-planners with me: Grant, Kai, Rafic, Ryan, Sean, and Jack. Of course, the snafus are bound to happen, and they'll end up on this blog sooner or later. But that's what makes it an adventure!

So to all the alumni, friends, family, and fans of Dins out there, we welcome you to follow us around the world through our blog. And on my part, in the spirit of my 4th of July entry from last time around, I'll try to make it as tasty a trip for you all as I can.

The Finish Line

Now, just as we’re about to make our way back to the States, seems like the perfect time to tell all you blog-readers about all of our Asia trip, no? Well, not really. But anyway, I thought I’d try to give this moribund blog one last hurrah -- a best-of summary (no frills, no in-depth food reviews, somewhat to my chagrin), so that when you see us in person, you know what you want to ask more details about. That’s the idea, anyway.

Our first stop in Asia, waaaay back when, was Seoul, South Korea. Ably led by our friend Seongmin, we slowly waded into the new continent, groggily singing our way around the city. Half the group happened to stay near the old imperial palace and Gyeongbokgung, so we took a day trip to see the sights.


The most memorable part of my Korean stay, however, was perhaps our performance in Dankook University. Until that point, my idea of a truly appreciative audience was one in which we were met with loud applause, and then given several encores. But no, that was Europe. Asia was a whole ‘nother story. First of all, the applause itself was thunderous. But on top of that was screaming….. Oh, the screaming. Most of our audience was composed of girls, middle-school- through college-aged, and they went absolutely crazy with every song we sang.


When the performance was over, we patted ourselves on the back and got ready to go home. But indeed, we were just beginning. Upon opening the door leading into the lobby, I was met with a deafening combination (a din, one might say) of shrieks and giggles, and before I knew it, I was actually being mobbed by a veritable sea of girls, all asking to take a photo with me or ask for my autograph. Most of the other Dins faced similar experiences -- but having been the first to venture out into the lobby, I seem to have experienced the full force of the Asian juggernaut. In any case, by the end of the evening, I’d signed over 50 CDs, countless notebooks, and two t-shirts. Quite a nice welcome to Asia.

Our next two stops were Shanghai and Hong Kong. While performing at the Shanghai world expo was fun, and Hong Kong is an amazing city, the particular anecdote I wanted to relate here doesn't take place in either city. Part of our stay in Shanghai actually involved leaving the city to stay overnight in the city of Wuxi. Arriving there by bus, we were greeted by a large group of Chinese high school students, whom we got to know as we took a boat cruise around the local lake. While that was fun in and of itself, the most entertaining portion occurred the next morning, when we visited their school and gave a performance. The performance went smoothly, but we were slightly confused by the last part of the program, which said that their school’s students, in collaboration with Harvard students, would be doing a demonstration of Beijing opera. Just when we thought the collaborative portion might have been scrapped, a few of us -- Christian, Jon, Sam S., and I -- were selected from the Dins to don the traditional attire and do some Beijing opera moves. I was chosen to be the token female character. Hmph. That involved waving around my enormous sleeves and trying to look tragic -- probably ended up looking more comical than anything else, but no matter. But seeing Dins dressed in that incongruous attire was probably a highlight of the Asia portion of the tour.

Our next stop was Japan, which included three stops: Osaka, Tokyo, and Choshi. While Osaka was a blast for me, I’m a little bit biased towards it (much of my family lives there and I visit at least once a year), so I won’t gush upon it here. Suffice it to say that both Osaka and Tokyo went smoothly enough. However, while I was the manager of the Japan stop, I had no idea what to expect for Choshi, a smaller town which the Dins have visited for three consecutive tours now. I had no idea what our daily schedule would be, how we would get from place to place, or really, anything else about the whole stop. As it turned out, absolutely everything was taken care of by our faithful contact, Terajima-san. From finding us a traditional Japanese hotel to showing us the local fishing festival, Terajima-san had it all planned out. But most remarkable of all was our tour of the fish-processing plant. Attiring ourselves in surgical masks, full-body aprons, and shower caps, we trekked into the formidable local fish factory and watched the magic in action. We saw fish being de-boned, roasted, injected with saltwater, frozen, packaged, you name it. And all the while, the head of the plant was explaining the process to me in Japanese, which I would relate to the group in English via loudspeaker. The entire scene was a little silly, but extremely fun. Certainly not what I expected to be doing during a singing tour in Japan…


The next stop was Bangkok -- home of the famous Pinky Tailor’s. A legend within the Dins, Pinky’s tailor shop in Phloen Chit, Bangkok, has been responsible for keeping several generations of Dins looking snappy in their tailored suits and overcoats, all at a fraction of the American price. This time was no exception, and nearly all the Dins walked away with a new, tailored suit or two. If you know a Din, you’re probably in for a Pinky’s fashion show when we get back.

Our next destination was the beautiful country of Singapore, another land chock-full of screaming Din fans. Still, to avoid redundancy, I’ll skip that and first discuss our short stay in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. While only in the country for one full day, what a full day that was: we ate a delicious breakfast in one of the local food markets, went to the top of the Petronas Towers, visited a Buddhist temple… after that, some of us got massages, and some of us went off to the night food market. The unabashedly self-promotional video we were made to watch in preparation for going up the Petronas Towers was a personal highlight.


I admit, I cracked up when the girl who’d just been given Petronas contact lenses looked into the camera and smiled, able to see for the first time, as well as when the close-up of children beatifically romping in the park zoomed out to show the towers majestically (yet beneficently) towering behind them. Perhaps I’m a little more cynical than I should be…

In any case, we returned to Singapore for one day after our trip to Malaysia, in time to catch Singapore’s National Day celebrations. Not only that, one of our illustrious Din alums, Jason, had actually gotten us a room at the Marina Bay Sands hotel so that we could access the pool and see the night’s festivities from an amazing vantage point. First of all, the pool at the Marina Bay Sands is no ordinary pool. It is, quite easily, the most beautiful pool I’ve ever had the pleasure of swimming in: an infinity pool overlooking the entirety of Singapore.


After several hours of lazing around and getting a tan, the festivities began. In many ways comparable to the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics, the show was amazing, complete with fighter jets swooping in from above and thousands of coordinated dancers. However, nothing quite compared to the fireworks. From the 38th floor of the hotel, the fireworks were just at our eye level. It was probably a sight to see, all the Dins pressed up against the window, shouting at each new flash outside.

The next day, we flew off to Sydney, where I write this now. While it’s winter here, it’s really not too different from summer back at home in California. In just about three hours, we’ll be boarding the plane towards our final two stops: San Francisco and San Diego. At the risk of descending into mawkishness, I won’t describe the particular blend of happiness and sadness that I’m feeling at this moment. But perhaps you can imagine. Anyway, I know it’ll be a great ride, to the very end.

WE HAVE NOT ABANDONED THE TOUR BLOG!

On behalf of the Dins, I would like to say that we promise we still love and care for this temporarily stagnant blog. Unfortunately, it is 2:30 A.M. in Osaka, Japan, where we are staying for the next two days, and so neither I nor any of the rest of us has the energy to give the blog a much needed juicy post at the moment.

BUT STAY TUNED!!!!! A GOLDIN OPPORTUNITY to read the blog is just around the corner!

Food, Oh-So-Glorious Food

Now, for those of you expecting deep philosophical musings and/or reports of places unknown, I’m sorry to say that you won’t find them in this particular post. Instead, I thought I’d make this short segment an ode to that oft-underrated, and on this blog, too often underrepresented, hero of any world tour (and of life as a whole): food. Yes, that wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles which, for me, condenses all the many-splendored joys of travel into a single bite. That is the topic of this little discourse.

Those of you who’ve seen me eat know that over the course of a day, I can get through a fair amount. Some would say that that’s an understatement, but I’ll leave it at that for now. Anyway, suffice it to say that this tour hasn’t exactly been a diet as far as I’m concerned -- though I’m perfectly happy with the ubiquitous Doner Kabob stands when I want a midnight snack (chicken or lamb, sliced off the spit in front of you, all wrapped inside a deliciously crispy piece of pita bread with lettuce, onions, and a creamy garlic sauce) the local food is so consistently delicious that it’s too good to pass up.


In Strasbourg, for instance, we stopped at a local café, where the grand total of four menu items were presented to us on a blackboard. I was lucky enough to choose the gnocchi au gratin: while Dillon’s vegetable pastilla (pictured in Dillon’s post) was delicious, with its delicate and crispy exterior surrounding green vegetables scented with cinnamon and nutmeg, the gnocchi were truly memorable.


The first thing you notice as the waiter brings the dish to your table is the still-bubbling cheese on the outsides of the plate. The dish is piping hot, and the smell of cheese whets your appetite. As for the gnocchi themselves, resting underneath the layer of cheese and cream, I think Brett described them best as “pillows.” They’re light and fluffy, but with a firm texture. The single perfect bite was one from a corner of the dish -- a piece of burnt cheese, one of the said pillows, a piece of cashew nut, a caper or two, and a small piece of tuna. The texture was wonderful, and the saltiness of the capers, along with the nuttiness of the cashews, made for a perfect combination of flavors. For me, a near-perfect dish.

Later that same day, after a short walk, we came across a café with somewhere between 20 and 30 kinds of gelato. The day was hot, and that was exactly what we were all craving, so I had two scoops, one rose-flavored, and one violet-flavored. Not the most macho of all possible choices, maybe, but it was too tempting and unusual a combination to pass up. (And, for those wondering, the nicely manicured hands below are not my own.)


The rose was creamy and sweet -- I didn’t know that a taste could be so similar to a smell, but if you could taste rose-scented perfume, that would be the taste of that gelato. Not my favorite, overall. But the violet-flavored scoop was really something else: tangy, flowery, sweet, but not too sweet -- on a hot day, it was the perfect refresher.

The next day, Brett and I sat by the foot of Strasbourg’s imposing cathedral for dinner. For my meal, I ordered a tarte flambee, which was described to me as a sort of quasi-pizza. That was indeed what it was -- a pizza minus the sauce and cheese.

In place of those was a light cream sauce with onions and ham atop a paper-thin crust. Lighter on the stomach than a typical pizza, it hit the spot as we watched the sun set on the magnificent cathedral.

The next day, we were headed off to Berlin. Exhausted from the day’s travel, I was not in the best of moods. But as my parents know quite well, the surest way to stop me from being cranky is to feed me. And feed myself I did. Dillon and I shared an enormous -- truly massive -- platter of grilled meat, French fries, and vegetables.


The meat came in all shapes and sizes, ribs, steaks, chicken breasts -- we had our work cut out for us. But, in the most literal sense, we cleaned up. With food on the sides of my mouth, I wasn’t exactly looking my best, but I was certainly satisfied, and I know Dillon was, too. So, all in all, the meal was a resounding success.


Best of all, those meals are just the tip of the iceberg (and I’m sure it reflects something about me that at this moment, that expression just makes me think of lettuce). I could go on about the delicious schnitzel all through Germany, or the superb pork and sauerkraut in Austria, or the surprisingly tasty “boiled mush” here in Slovenia, but this entry’s already gone on a while longer than anticipated, and I can’t expect everyone to be as enthralled by food as I am. Still, maybe these descriptions can give those not traveling with us one more aspect -- a taste -- of this incredible world tour.

Speaking Chinese in La Petite France

Making our way from one country to the next, any given Din may hurdle over, crash into, or run away from language barriers. Each one of us brings his own special skill set. As for me, I studied four years of French before selling my soul to Mandarin. Yet, we have but a few Francophone stops before heading to Asia. I knew not what to expect for the lands of my personal linguistic ignorance.

Aside from their great skin and astonishing bone structure, the people of Iceland possess another beautiful quality: nearly all of them speak perfect English. This of course did not stop Dave Sawicki from learning Icelandic for fun, which amused the linguistics major to no small end. As much as I wished for some delightfully confounding miscommunications in London, I left England without such pitfall. And though we were in Amsterdam for but a day, the Dutch seem to take after Scandinavians in their mastery of English. In Luxembourg the gears of French began to turn. I grew frustrated as it would take me a good five minutes to construct a grammatically unblemished sentence only to lapse into Chinese if my conversation continued any further. But even with my tongue and my mind on different continents, I survived easily.

Our stay in Saarland put the spotlight on Dave once again. From song intros at concerts to disgruntled cab drivers on the side of the road, Dave handled all our official German business While our English song introductions fall of ears deaf to English, Dave's German humor had the Saarland audiences calling for two or three encores every night. No language can stop Dave, and I cannot imagine us surviving Germany without him. That is, until I had to. On our last night, which we spent in Saarlouis, the Dins split up into six different homestays, all organized by German-American friendship groups. Although we had the comfort of meeting in the town square with several bilingual members, not every host family could speak English.

Kirk and I stayed with one such family. Their teenage daughter Susanna spoke conversational English, but she soon had to leave for a theater rehearsal, leaving Kirk and me at home with a vocabulary of "Danke schön," "Auf Wiedersehen," and "Weis bier." Using hand signals, we decided to eat a quick bite before our evening concert. Yet, the time did not pass idly, and our host made jokes about the inferiority of French sausage. An untainted happiness lingered about her, as she laughed after most every one of her sentences. Maybe she was thinking of the fact that we could not understand a word of what she said. Still, I used a map to show her where Kirk and I live, as well as Boston and our tour itinerary. She then made it clear she wanted to come along with us in Kirk's gargantuan suitcase, which during the easyJet crisis was nicknamed "The Star Destroyer." After our concert, our party met up with Lee and Justin at their homestay for a delicious meal in the cool summer night. Our host mom let us know that she would speak English the next time we came to Saarlouis. We reciprocated the offer, vowing to learn German before our next visit.



In Strasbourg, I could feel my French improving. Still, anything close to rapid fire would send my mind into Mandarin mode, as I blabbered mutant sentences that have confused grammar and a collusion of vocabularies. What a mess. After our expedition to the top of the gothic cathedral, we headed to a small café for lunch in the shade. I did my best to help our table order, but I cannot recall the name of this delicious vegetarian dish I ordered. It did taste divine, though.



After leaving the café, I heard a tongue all to familiar. "哈佛?" A Chinese-speaker had read the text on my crimson t-shirt, which is a translation for Harvard. The man, leader of a Taiwanese tour group, soon struck up conversation with me as well as Sam Galler, who has impeccable Mandarin. As the tour group slowly coagulated around us, we heard calls for a song, as Sam never wastes the opportunity to mention we are members of an a cappella group. Defying convention, we gave an impromptu curbside performance. Exactly half of us had no idea what was going on, as our group of eight included all four Mandarin-speaking Dins. After the 3:30 minute song, we endured what seemed like several hours of picture-taking.



In the end, the tour guide exchanged business cards with us and invited us to Taiwan, offering to pay for all our accommodations. But soon it was back to choppy French, and now in Berlin I am once again at a loss for how to say anything at all. But these stories would mean nothing if we all understood each other perfectly. And so, while I may work towards improving my powers of communication, I am deeply thankful for the colorful shortcomings.