I would like to start this post by ranting about what I believe will soon be a universally known pet peeve. I'm sure we have all encountered someone yelling into a cell phone in a place where it is impossible not to listen. My dad and others from his generation account for the majority of these people. Well, let me be the first to say that this breach of social etiquette in public places is "so last year." Here is the new annoying fauxpaus that I believe will someday usurp improper cell phone use. It is Skype. Yes, we all agree that the technology is developing fast, and the rates are cheap, but someone must set some boundaries. I am in Bangkok, sitting in at a computer, trying the let my thoughts flow onto this page, and sandwiched between two men yelling into their microphones. "MOM!!!! MOM!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME? OK. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!!!" The most unbelievable part is that there are only 3 of us in here! And I was here first! All these computers and they chose the two on either side of me... OK, my anger is subsiding with their excitement in whatever it is that they are talking about. I believe I can continue now.
I have chosen to title this post after the state fish of Hawaii. It is not just a pretty fish, but this, pointlessly long, 12 syllable name is also an allegory for how confusing budget travel in Hawaii can be. Accommodation, gasoline, food, and virtually every other aspect is hopelessly expensive. Camping permits are mandatory, they take hours to procure, and are often sold out. However, do not loose hope. These permits, oatmeal, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, pasta, and complete dedication to repeating this routine EVERY day will keep you alive... or at least prolong your inevitable bankruptcy. Thank god I came here to work construction, otherwise I'd be broke.
This trip to Hawaii was the perfect example of how a flexible lifestyle (some would call it joblessness) can bring good fortune. My friend Ramsey offered me a place to sleep (albeit on the floor) on the Big Island, $10/hour, access to the family jeep, and the company of a good friend. Who could turn that down? Not me, so I caught the first flight out South East Asia... Actually it wasn't that easy. Believe it or not, there are very few people that fly from the little island east of Bali where I chose to start this journey, to Kona, Hawaii. Here is what that entailed.
9AM: Bumpy bus ride to harbor.
1PM: The ferry to Bali leaves promptly 1hr late.
6PM: Arrive in Bali and jump into another bus across.
9PM: Arrive in Kuta and search for room (see description of said room in previous posting).
6AM: Wake and head to airport.
9:45am: Fly to Jakarta (2 hour flight, 6 hr layover).
4PM: Fly to Bangkok (4 hour flight 12 hour layover. That's right, 12 hours!).
I don't even know anymore: Fly to Tokyo (7 hour flight 6 hours layover).
What does it matter: Fly to Honolulu (I have no idea. I was completely incoherent by this time). Followed by more layovers before a little flight to Kona.
I think it was around 65-70 hours of sitting, stretching, staring, eating, not sleeping, and cursing my existence. Suffice to say I was in need of a break from travel and happy to see some familiar faces in the airport. Myself, my friend Ramsey and his little brother Ryland spent most of August building a garage. And by "we," I mean Ramsey and his brother Ryland. I guess you could call me "unskilled labor." I was just happy to be stable for a few weeks.
Our routine was pleasantly predictable. Let me summarize the first two weeks. Everyday at 7:30-8:30AM, I would pull the covers off my face, open one eye, unwrap my arms from my pillow/spooning partner, pull out my ear plugs, look up from my bed of cushions on the floor, and say in my best morning voice, "what time is it", even though the clock was right above me. I would ask anyway because I could see Ramsey Ryland watching the Today Show. They've been up for a while and don't ask why two twenty something men watch the Today Show everyday. Then we ate, then we worked, then ate some more, then worked, then ate/watched the Olympics (go Michael Phelps!) and fell asleep early. There is no greater joy than to re cooperate with a healthy lifestyle and watch a month slip by in a blink of an eye.
Oh, I made time for a week of camping in Kauai too. I would like to skip the specifics of that trip, though, buy me a beer and I'll tell you the rest, and limit myself to this one story. Imagine yourself in my position while I describe this scene. Its late, and you are camping on a county beach. Places like these are where local Hawaiian people stay on the weekends. They yell, stay up late and drink beer. We seem to have gotten lucky, though, because our neighbors are quiet tonight and the place is serene. I'm in my tent which I share with my friend Sophie. She is a 21 year old nursing student at Iowa University. We met about a year ago on the summit of Mt Kenya and have kept in touch ever since. In other words, she is a brave girl. Brave enough to spend all her money on a week in Kauai with a guy she hardly knows... and climb mountains too. Its hot on the beach and I am lying in shorts and sweating on top of the sheets. Its that perfect time at the end of a good day where I only am partially aware of my surroundings as I drift off to sleep so I don't pay much attention to the very small shift in the tent. Its the kind of movement, like when you roll over and your shift cause a bottle to fall on its side. Except this is not a bottle, its cold, on my neck, and I can't think of anything we have that would feel like this. I don't know if I imagined this, but I swear there was a skittling sound, like "ch ch ch ch ch." Something foreign is on my neck. That is about the closest I came to an actual thought and the reason why I reached for my neck with a sense of scientific curiosity and not terror. I casually grabbed this thing to look to see what it was.............. AND IT BIT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
.........
I would like to pause before I relay what it was that bite me... or stung me, I don't really know how a 6 inch centipede injects its poisonous venom... That's right, I was bit be a 6 inch centipede! Can you picture how terrifying this must be?! I mean this is in my tent! The place that we all count on when we camp to protect ourselves from the wilderness. AND IT WAS ON MY NECK!! IN THE DARK!! I apologize for the excessive use of exclamation points. I am obviously not fully recovered. But enough about that, the story must continue. This hideous creature stings me in the dark, I scream in a tone that I would retrospectively call "awkwardly high," and throw it across the tent... but now its loose, and somewhere between us and the door. Sophie, of course, wakes up and thinks I am making this up... That is until I say the word "centipede." Her response is to scream and fly out of the tent faster than anyone would have thought was possible. To this day, I don't even know how she opened the door that fast. Luckily for us, I am a conversationalist, and made friend with our neighbors earlier that night. They are a dread locked couple, living like true spiritual Hawaiians in their tent. They completely took over, thereby earning a special place in my heart for the rest of my life. My finger was swollen and throbbing, and feeling pretty loopy from the quadruple dose of Benedryl that my nurse Sophie just gave me... I was not in the proper state to kill this huge, angry and surprisingly fast thing in my tent. My dread locked angels took care of that, but centipedes don't die easy. They flatten themselves when you try to squish them and it took over 10 minutes to get the job done. Then I got to clean up the guts.
I think I'm going to stop here. I didn't have to go to the hospital and I never really did know how to finish a story. I'm in Bangkok at the moment like I said before. I'm coming from Cambodia and possibly on my way to Myanmar. There will be more stories to report soon. Hopefully they will not involve any insects, though, because I'm over it.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Indonesia For Lack of a Better Title
I owe an apology to anyone that is still be interested in reading these posts. My lack of contact over the last 5 weeks has not gone unnoticed. Its easy to find the motivation to write when you are sheltering yourself from the rain in an "over the top," chaotic city, but what about on a pristine tropical island? The answer, unfortunately for myself and my readers is obvious. Indonesia can be a difficult place to sit at a computer. Now I fear that these memories may not be as vivid as they would normally be. However, what I lacked in correspondence while I was bouncing around those islands, I more than made up in dedication to my journal. So I was thinking that I would take a few of those entries and spew them out onto this page. It may not be seamless account of a month of travel, but they are my favorite memories and maybe the experience will seem more fresh to all of you (if there is anyone left out there).
First, what do you know about Indonesia? Its OK to say nothing. All I had ever heard was news blurbs about old terrorist attacks and its terrible track return on the environment. I can confirm the latter. So before I get started, I offer a few basic facts about this country. Indonesia is one country of over 17,000 islands, 14,000 of which are inhabited. Not a very easy place to govern. It is also the most populous Muslim nation in the world. These stats made for a varied experience. One island would be Muslim, the next would be Christian, and all this with little old Bali practicing Hinduism in the middle.
July 12,
We made it to Bali!!!! Now what? Its not easy to arrive at night on an island where you can't even name a single city. Hmmm... So we followed some advice and were shuttled like sheep to Kuta, our present location. I'm sitting in a hotel room at the moment, this is how I would describe the place. My ears are ringing from that unmistakable house/electronica beat playing at the night club next door (they apparently start the music at 9pm... who does that?!). Its the same one that you hear in every club, or at least I think that is what you hear. I've never actually been to one. "UN-TSS UN-TSS UN-TSS!!!" The beat is so loud that I can feel the vibration all over the room. All this is complimented by the steady stream of revving mopeds on the street below us. The room itself is simple, 2 beds, a bathroom (sort of) and a decent deck. We have been using the place to its best potential, sitting and watching the family of rats scurry along the railing of the decks across from us.
I should interject for a moment here. I was traveling with my good friend from college at the time, Jake. He is arguably the most unique person that I have ever met. An idiot savant of sorts, smarter than I will ever be and on his way back to school for mechanical engineering. Not before he took a whirlwind 3 month trip around the world, though. Two of those weeks were with me. It was good to have him around, he always made life interesting. The randomness of his sense of humor could make a person wonder if he was autistic, but I loved it. He is that guy that you hear at the restaurant table next to you saying things like "I'm going to buy a bunch of guns" or "Mike, you know how all the people who vote in the US are religious zealots?" (both of which he actually said). Our days together were filled with laughter and good conversation. Who could ask for anything more from a traveling partner?
July, 13th
Kuta, Bali is for Australians what Cancun Mexico is for Americans. Just a bunch of spring break 18 year olds drinking... This can't be Indonesia... We must leave this place. The good news is that we are. As of today, we are the brand new owners of 2 mopeds for the next week. The deal was just too good not to take ($3.50 /day). Now we just have to learn how to drive them, and figure out how all of our stuff will fit onto those little things.
We thought we were off to a good start this morning when we successfully found the ignition and took off... at least I took off. Well Jake did too, but his take off was into a curb. It was hilarious! Partly because he was OK, and second because a lady came running from the guesthouse yelling "watch out." Oh right, thanks lady, we forgot the "watching out" part when we started driving.
It really wasn't that bad, though, after a few terrifying minutes. We just go with the flow and pay off the corrupt police when we have to. They are jerks and we have no international licences. Our parents would be glad to hear that we drive like two old ladies... in that we always seem to drive with our turn signal on.
We are off to our big trip across the island tomorrow. Our destination is Amed, its supposed to be the best place to scuba dive in Bali and I am stoked!! Now we just have to get there. Jake is calling it a trip in honor of Che Guevara... our own "moped diaries."
I'll summarize here in the interest of avoiding an overly long entry. We survived the trip. The rest of Bali is truly incredible. Its filled with beautiful beaches and rice fields. Jake and I spent 5 or 6 more days together diving and enjoying the beaches. We split up around the 18th, he wanted to head to Malaysia and I was itching to check out more of Indonesia.
July 20th,
Jake went to the airport yesterday morning, I spent most of the day writing a blog about Hong Kong. Well, not the whole day. I also went out and got myself a surf board. Surfing was a goal for me here and what better time to start than right then? The waves were not good enough to try anything more than the little stuff... but that was OK with me. After a little practice, I was able to get up and ride... I can surf... I'm a surfer now. The guy that I rented from was laughing when I returned the board (never a good sign). He said, "You were afraid of the waves!" What can I say? He was right.
I left this morning for the island of Lombok. As per norm in developing countries, the amount of travel time invested is always than what you are told it would be. The shuttle was late, it unexpectedly drove all over the island before dropping me off, the ferry left late, it took an hour longer than they said it would to cross the channel, we waited for another 2 hours in the harbor before we could dock, then it turns out that I was taken to the wrong harbor! That meant another 1.5 hours in a bus. The other tourists that I saw on the boat took this trip pretty bad. For me? I'd be lying if I said I was expecting it, but I wasn't that surprised when it happened. And now I'm here!!! '
July 23rd,
Life is good. We made it to our new home on the Island of Gili Trawangon, a name I'm sure that I will never be able to pronounce correctly. The more expensive rooms here boast to have "fresh water," something we apparently cannot afford. That is not the only thing our room does not have. You can add, toilet paper, soap, sheets, and a sink to the list. The power just went out too, I guess it happens all the time here, so add in the AC that we paid for.
But the beach is endless (its a round island), and there are numerous little bungalows not far from the shore where you can enjoy a beer. The food has been great, you can see every star in the sky at night, our road is made of sand, and the only transportation, besides your feet, is a donkey with a cart. They call them the "Gili Mercedes."
I stuck around and enjoyed the island for a few days before heading out on another adventure. This time was on a small boat that looked conspicuously like the Minnow from Gilligan's Island. There were 7 of us in total and I have no doubt that they loved every minute of their close company with me while i sang the theme song from that show. We spent 5 days together hopping from island to island.
July 28th,
I don't think that there is any particular event or activity from the boat trip that made this such an enjoyable experience. Perama Island was OK, farming for coral was a touristy joke, the salt lake was anticlimactic, and seeing all those komodo dragons was incredible. But... there was so much more to it than just where we stopped. I could sit above the deck and stare at the sea for hours. The enormity of open water has a very relaxing effect. It makes you realize how small you are and how inconsequential this life really is in the larger scheme of things. Then, in the middle of these deep thoughts, comes something amazing to snap you right out of it. We saw loads of dolphins, herds of pilot whales, and even the occasional marlin jumping... unbelievable!
As if this trip weren't surreal enough, you never knew when a swell would open the hatch in the front of the boat and send a burlap sat filled with live chickens (or dinner as I like to call them) rolling onto the deck. The most absurd part of all happens in the middle of the night. At any given time we would all be sleeping, or at least feigning sleep, on the deck together when a freak wave would hit the boat. Imagine lying in a sheet and having a bucket of cold water dumped all over you... The reaction is universal. You sit up as quickly as possible and the only sound you can make comes from a rapid inhalation, you are soaked. Then you look around the boat in the dark because surely someone else must be in this same predicament... but no. This gigantic wave has somehow managed to hit only you and left everyone else dry. You have to smile, though, because this is just too ridiculous to actually be happening, and your sadistic side knows that they are going to get it too (they all did). So you do the only thing you can, you go back to feigning sleep on this hard, and now entirely soaked deck.
August 4th,
I am not sure how I will remember Indonesia. Sometimes its like I'm outside myself listening as I rave to others about how incredible this country has been. It HAS been great, and there is no doubt that it was an adventure. Sometimes the memories don't seem to line up with the facts, though. Living so close to the ocean inspires some pretty deep thought, but I don't remember getting that "there is a god moment" or any butterflies in my stomach when I took in the view. Dad says that you are either a mountain person or a water person. After a month on the water, I feel closer to the middle. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how time shapes my memories of this place.
First, what do you know about Indonesia? Its OK to say nothing. All I had ever heard was news blurbs about old terrorist attacks and its terrible track return on the environment. I can confirm the latter. So before I get started, I offer a few basic facts about this country. Indonesia is one country of over 17,000 islands, 14,000 of which are inhabited. Not a very easy place to govern. It is also the most populous Muslim nation in the world. These stats made for a varied experience. One island would be Muslim, the next would be Christian, and all this with little old Bali practicing Hinduism in the middle.
July 12,
We made it to Bali!!!! Now what? Its not easy to arrive at night on an island where you can't even name a single city. Hmmm... So we followed some advice and were shuttled like sheep to Kuta, our present location. I'm sitting in a hotel room at the moment, this is how I would describe the place. My ears are ringing from that unmistakable house/electronica beat playing at the night club next door (they apparently start the music at 9pm... who does that?!). Its the same one that you hear in every club, or at least I think that is what you hear. I've never actually been to one. "UN-TSS UN-TSS UN-TSS!!!" The beat is so loud that I can feel the vibration all over the room. All this is complimented by the steady stream of revving mopeds on the street below us. The room itself is simple, 2 beds, a bathroom (sort of) and a decent deck. We have been using the place to its best potential, sitting and watching the family of rats scurry along the railing of the decks across from us.
I should interject for a moment here. I was traveling with my good friend from college at the time, Jake. He is arguably the most unique person that I have ever met. An idiot savant of sorts, smarter than I will ever be and on his way back to school for mechanical engineering. Not before he took a whirlwind 3 month trip around the world, though. Two of those weeks were with me. It was good to have him around, he always made life interesting. The randomness of his sense of humor could make a person wonder if he was autistic, but I loved it. He is that guy that you hear at the restaurant table next to you saying things like "I'm going to buy a bunch of guns" or "Mike, you know how all the people who vote in the US are religious zealots?" (both of which he actually said). Our days together were filled with laughter and good conversation. Who could ask for anything more from a traveling partner?
July, 13th
Kuta, Bali is for Australians what Cancun Mexico is for Americans. Just a bunch of spring break 18 year olds drinking... This can't be Indonesia... We must leave this place. The good news is that we are. As of today, we are the brand new owners of 2 mopeds for the next week. The deal was just too good not to take ($3.50 /day). Now we just have to learn how to drive them, and figure out how all of our stuff will fit onto those little things.
We thought we were off to a good start this morning when we successfully found the ignition and took off... at least I took off. Well Jake did too, but his take off was into a curb. It was hilarious! Partly because he was OK, and second because a lady came running from the guesthouse yelling "watch out." Oh right, thanks lady, we forgot the "watching out" part when we started driving.
It really wasn't that bad, though, after a few terrifying minutes. We just go with the flow and pay off the corrupt police when we have to. They are jerks and we have no international licences. Our parents would be glad to hear that we drive like two old ladies... in that we always seem to drive with our turn signal on.
We are off to our big trip across the island tomorrow. Our destination is Amed, its supposed to be the best place to scuba dive in Bali and I am stoked!! Now we just have to get there. Jake is calling it a trip in honor of Che Guevara... our own "moped diaries."
I'll summarize here in the interest of avoiding an overly long entry. We survived the trip. The rest of Bali is truly incredible. Its filled with beautiful beaches and rice fields. Jake and I spent 5 or 6 more days together diving and enjoying the beaches. We split up around the 18th, he wanted to head to Malaysia and I was itching to check out more of Indonesia.
July 20th,
Jake went to the airport yesterday morning, I spent most of the day writing a blog about Hong Kong. Well, not the whole day. I also went out and got myself a surf board. Surfing was a goal for me here and what better time to start than right then? The waves were not good enough to try anything more than the little stuff... but that was OK with me. After a little practice, I was able to get up and ride... I can surf... I'm a surfer now. The guy that I rented from was laughing when I returned the board (never a good sign). He said, "You were afraid of the waves!" What can I say? He was right.
I left this morning for the island of Lombok. As per norm in developing countries, the amount of travel time invested is always than what you are told it would be. The shuttle was late, it unexpectedly drove all over the island before dropping me off, the ferry left late, it took an hour longer than they said it would to cross the channel, we waited for another 2 hours in the harbor before we could dock, then it turns out that I was taken to the wrong harbor! That meant another 1.5 hours in a bus. The other tourists that I saw on the boat took this trip pretty bad. For me? I'd be lying if I said I was expecting it, but I wasn't that surprised when it happened. And now I'm here!!! '
July 23rd,
Life is good. We made it to our new home on the Island of Gili Trawangon, a name I'm sure that I will never be able to pronounce correctly. The more expensive rooms here boast to have "fresh water," something we apparently cannot afford. That is not the only thing our room does not have. You can add, toilet paper, soap, sheets, and a sink to the list. The power just went out too, I guess it happens all the time here, so add in the AC that we paid for.
But the beach is endless (its a round island), and there are numerous little bungalows not far from the shore where you can enjoy a beer. The food has been great, you can see every star in the sky at night, our road is made of sand, and the only transportation, besides your feet, is a donkey with a cart. They call them the "Gili Mercedes."
I stuck around and enjoyed the island for a few days before heading out on another adventure. This time was on a small boat that looked conspicuously like the Minnow from Gilligan's Island. There were 7 of us in total and I have no doubt that they loved every minute of their close company with me while i sang the theme song from that show. We spent 5 days together hopping from island to island.
July 28th,
I don't think that there is any particular event or activity from the boat trip that made this such an enjoyable experience. Perama Island was OK, farming for coral was a touristy joke, the salt lake was anticlimactic, and seeing all those komodo dragons was incredible. But... there was so much more to it than just where we stopped. I could sit above the deck and stare at the sea for hours. The enormity of open water has a very relaxing effect. It makes you realize how small you are and how inconsequential this life really is in the larger scheme of things. Then, in the middle of these deep thoughts, comes something amazing to snap you right out of it. We saw loads of dolphins, herds of pilot whales, and even the occasional marlin jumping... unbelievable!
As if this trip weren't surreal enough, you never knew when a swell would open the hatch in the front of the boat and send a burlap sat filled with live chickens (or dinner as I like to call them) rolling onto the deck. The most absurd part of all happens in the middle of the night. At any given time we would all be sleeping, or at least feigning sleep, on the deck together when a freak wave would hit the boat. Imagine lying in a sheet and having a bucket of cold water dumped all over you... The reaction is universal. You sit up as quickly as possible and the only sound you can make comes from a rapid inhalation, you are soaked. Then you look around the boat in the dark because surely someone else must be in this same predicament... but no. This gigantic wave has somehow managed to hit only you and left everyone else dry. You have to smile, though, because this is just too ridiculous to actually be happening, and your sadistic side knows that they are going to get it too (they all did). So you do the only thing you can, you go back to feigning sleep on this hard, and now entirely soaked deck.
August 4th,
I am not sure how I will remember Indonesia. Sometimes its like I'm outside myself listening as I rave to others about how incredible this country has been. It HAS been great, and there is no doubt that it was an adventure. Sometimes the memories don't seem to line up with the facts, though. Living so close to the ocean inspires some pretty deep thought, but I don't remember getting that "there is a god moment" or any butterflies in my stomach when I took in the view. Dad says that you are either a mountain person or a water person. After a month on the water, I feel closer to the middle. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how time shapes my memories of this place.
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