In a recent survey...

People love statistics, even though I've heard up to 47 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.  It's And now, Google, and their blog site (blogger or blogspot.com), provides all kinds of statistics to their blogosphere.  It's great fun and provides me all kinds of information that is largely useless, but endlessly entertaining with the pie charts and bar graphs.

As a matter of fact, you might just be my 1000th blog viewer.  Congratulations, with that and a lottery ticket, you might just win something.  Seriously though, I now know that in the last month:

52% of my readers accessed my blog using a Windows Operating system

31% used a Mac

10% used an Android

I also know what web-browsers were used.  These are interesting facts, but I'm not sure how they apply to me as a blogger?  I guess I know the Android users are probably reading on the go, so I might be lite commute reading for someone, or killing time waiting in line at the DMV maybe?  Should I change my writing to meet these reading preferences?  Do you think I really considered that? I didn't, and I think these statistics probably help Google more than they help me.

I also have learned that I have International Readership, and I feel that is significant enough to capitalize.  Again for the last month:

53% US

24% Russia

6% each from Australia, UK and Netherlands

And just showing up on the radar are readers from Hong Kong, China, Germany and Latvia

I'm impressed I have such a wide readership, though I suspect it is mostly just my international friends on Facebook that were curious about what I might be blogging about.  The one that stumps me is the 24% readership in Russia. I don't think I know many people in Russia, and I'm curious how they may have stumbled on my blog.  Also, it makes me wonder if the numbers can be skewed by one person visiting the blog multiple times.  I'm sure Google is crunching my statistics as well, which makes me wonder what they make of my international appeal. 

All these statistics remind me of a few lines from Don Henley's song 'Garden of Allah.'  I like the song, and I thought it was a dark commentary on banking and politics of the 80's and it still applied to the political/banking situation of today.  However, in writing this blog, I learned 'The Garden of Allah' was actually a famous apartment complex in Hollywood, at the end of the Sunset Strip (also a Don Henley song). 

Anyway, with regards to crunching numbers Don says:

I will testify for you,

I'm a gun for hire,I'm a saint, I'm a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth
Just data to be manipulated.
I can get you any result you like
What's it worth to you?

I'm not sure I have enough stats to 'get you any result you like,' but I'm sure Google's manipulating the data right now to get you the result you will like... on your next search.

Don also mentions a Fitzgerald and Huxley in his song alluding to their writing.  Since I was writing a blog, I was also curious who Fitzgerald and Huxley were, so I did a little more research, and learned F. Scott Fitzgerald lived in the Hollywood apartments for a time in the '30's. According to Wikipedia, he wrote himself a postcard while there: "Dear Scott -- How are you? Have been meaning to come in and see you. I have living [sic] at the Garden of Allah. Yours, Scott Fitzgerald."

More wine Mr Fitzgerald?  Evidently the apartments had many famous guests and tenants like: Greta Garbo, John Barrymore, Buster Keaton, Harpo Marx, Humphry Bogart, Ernest Hemingway, George Kaufman and others; and it was known for all the debauchery one might associate with Hollywood.  You can read more about it here:  http://www.waltlockley.com/gardenofallah/gardenofallah.htm

But I digress.  Getting back to my Google statistics, they also let me know which posts have been read the most, or not read at all.  My top three posts are:

1. The Great Wall

2. Free Press in a Counter Insurgency

3. Random Ramblings from Afghanistan

I think posting the links on Facebook has given the second two an edge, although I was surprised my commentary on Free Press was so popular.  Also, of all my posts, I'm not sure why the Great Wall has become number one, but now that I have announced it's popularity I suspect it will remain at the top, trends become self promoting at some point... while others are just promoted by their author.

However, what I would really like to see is some traffic on some of my unread posts.  In particular, these two posts were some of my favorites to write, and yet they have never been read according to my google stats:

Shirt Shopping India Style:
http://randomramblingsofanamericanabroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/shirt-shopping-swindlers.html

Train to Maduri:
http://randomramblingsofanamericanabroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/train-to-madurai.html

So give them some love, I think you will enjoy them.

Run for the border: China to Vietnam

Our adventures continued in Guiyang, which really wasn't a trip stop, but just a transition point from bus back to rail.  We had a few hours before our train departed so we wondered down the road from the train station to get something to eat and buy snacks for the train journey.  The town has grown significantly in the past 10-20 years and has a history a bit like the United States 'Wild West.'  Originally it was occupied by minority tribes and the Chinese only had small garrisons established in the region to protect trade routes.  However, after the Mongol invasions pushed through China and onward into central Asia, China grew more interested in occupying the region and began settling in the area. 

Today it continues to be a major hub/cross roads for transportation and trade, hence my stop, and has also become a significant industrial hub for both raw material mining and production of iron, steel aluminum and further refinement into rail and aerospace parts and technology.  Of course I didn't really know any of this during my stop and probably would not have noted the town at, if the town's folk had not gone out of their way to take note of me and my travel companions.

During our stop at the local grocer, we unwittingly became celebrities.  The store looked like it was some sort of chain location, similar to a Safeway. It even had a similar color theme of red and white, but stores in Japan feel more European in their layout... somewhere between grocer and corner store.  Just inside there was a little deli that served noodles and wonton, so we sat down for a light supper.  Although we seemed to be an enjoyable oddity as the only white patrons, the meal passed pretty uneventfully. 

At the end of the meal, some of the staff built up the courage to ask if they could take pictures with us.  We agreed finding it a bit amusing ourselves, but we had also grown use to the fact that in China the tourist often is the attraction.  However, when we posed for the picture they also added a member of the staff dressed in a customary outfit of the local minority group.  She seemed almost like a store mascot, because we noticed a similar character on some of the advertisement posters around the store as well. 

Then, when we wonder into the store to buy some snacks, the staff was very attentive and followed us through the store like shopping assistants, carrying our shopping baskets for us, offering recommendations on products, and complimenting us on our final selection, whatever it may be.  We proceeded to check out and the entire staff gathered around as if fascinated by what these white people were buying in their grocery store.  As each item was rung up one woman would read off the current total, which was clearly displayed for us on the monitor, and really, since we had no idea what she was saying, I can only assume her commentary was for the larger local audience: 'Five, ninety-five ladies and gentlemen, and the next item is a fine selection of instant noodles. Beep. Seven, twenty-five. Next up, instant coffee.'

Finally, after the items were bagged and and the crowd dissipated, we shook hands with our friendly bagging staff and headed for the doors.  However, our exit was predicted, and the camera-man ran to the exits to film our departure with groceries in hand and a few friendly staff trailing a short distance behind.  So, if you are ever watching grocery store commercials in Guiyang, watch out for me picking out a fine selection of junk food perfect for a train journey to Kunming.  (Below: Even the statues at the train station were kind enough to offer new visitors advice and directions in Guiyang)

I really can't say much about Kunming, it was a short 24 hour stop and we just wondered through downtown and visited a local Green Lake Park.  The park was interesting in that it was a bit more like a Chinese Garden.  Laid out very precisely with artificial lakes, shrubs and tree trimmed and manicured for visual appeal.  We had hoped to lay out on the grass somewhere and enjoy the sun, but the grass was for looking at not walking on.  They had some paddle boats and inflatable clear plastic balls, which you could climb in and run around the lake like a Hamster 'Run-About Ball.' We wanted to try that but I guess they feared our western girth would sink the balls, and we were turned away.

The next morning we departed for Vietnam on a grueling 12 hour bus ride through the mountain passes of the border.  The terrain leaving Kunming was rolling farmland broken up by rich red clay earth and a scattering of white limestone rocks.  Initially the roads were straight and our pace was quick, smooth sailing, but then we began to climb into the mountains and the terrain closed in, the valleys grew steep and narrow and the road began to wind, hugging the contour lines and occasionally switching back on itself.  The scenery was enjoyable but the combative driving in a large bus on narrow roads, with steep banks, began to make some of the crew sick.  Before the final climb, and last pass, we stopped at a 'rest stop' for a breather and final bathroom break.  The setting was picturesque, with a small gazebo sitting on a embankment above a stream that snaked up the valley beyond.  However the facilities were just shy of a slit trench.  A cement stall with an area to squat over a gutter that ran through the three stalls. The strategy was to use the stall on the uphill slope otherwise you had to deal with everything in your section of the trench as well as what ever was flowing past from the other two.

In the late evening we finally arrived at our border crossing point.  The two nations are separated by a river and the two border towns face off across the river like to peacocks displaying their grand plumage to win a mate.  We were welcomed into town by the warm glow of Vegas style display of street lights and neon signs, as the Chinese and Vietnamese boarder towns faced off across a river. However, just beyond the riverfront on both sides of the river reality sets back in, and you left asking yourself, is there really occupants on each side of the boarder staring longingly at the other thinking, 'Man it sure looks like they've got it made over there.'

All the bright lights, and displays of wealth and power, were distant second in the minds of our group, as we were busy trying to look unfazed by the long and nauseating bus journey, so we would not be held up at the boarder crossing on account of being 'ill.'  We kept our distance from the guard points and fanned our friends that were feeling the worst, while our guide had our passports and immigration papers processed.  Fortunately, we didn't raise any alarm and successfully made it through immigration and hiked across a footbridge into Vietnam.  Enjoying the cool evening air before repeating the process successfully with the Vietnamese immigration team.  Then, we boarded a pair of small vans for a final winding hill climb into the town of Sapa, a French Colonial Hill station, minority tribal region, and our first stop in Vietnam.  As long as we survive the journey, which is dependent on our new drivers who have made this run too many times to believe the twisting road calls for any measure of caution, or even concern for oncoming traffic, or livestock in the dead of night...  As my grandfather recalled of his voyage to America, 'Many travelers grew sick. I did not.'