I am currently in Singapore airport headed back to California. It is quite familiar, as it should be considering I spent ofver 20 hours here last year. I am doing the usual: internet, artwaork, HD TV on the big screen, internet, shopping, sushi, internet, and hopefully a few beers.
I am trying to make sense of the last two months without much luck. My last two weeks in Lembongan were not like traveling at all. They were living in a town I wish I could move to. I keep reminding myself of all the places I have seen and countries I have been to during my travels. I can't make any headway, but I know it is coming to a close. I am sure the 16 hour flight I am about to take will help that, but who knows. With enough movies, free drinks, and sleep, I probably won't have any time for contemplation.
What I do know at this point in time is that I am so thankful for my journey and scared to hit the life that is my reality in the US. I have tried over the past two months to convey my thoughts and what I have seen and learned. However, I am not sure if I have accurately shown my happiness and health I have gained and maintained while abroad. My daily living in Indonesia constists of another language, interesting and exciting foods, little alcohol (I don't count Bintangs), phycial improvement and activity, no driving, and social interactions of true interest and learning from me and those whom I encounter. I cannot help but wonder how long it will be until I make the large leap I dream and talk about; how long it will be until I move here for an extended length of time; how long it will be until I am really fluent; just how long??????
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Last Night in Town
I know my journey home began yesterday when I left Nusa Lembongan to head to the mailand. I chatted with a scuba instructor I had met last year and chatted briefly about dive sites in Bali and local divemasters we both know thorughout Bali. It was nice to feel like part of the "in crowd" for once. I know my diving experiences in Bali are very extraordiary and coveted by many divers throughout the world.
In Sanur, I had a slight mishap with the room I was staying in last night. I booked a room upon a recomendation after I couldnot find the # of where I wanted to stay. The owner said it was the last room above the cafe. It turned out to be an open air loft speaparted into two sections. One with a queen bed, the other with 3 day beds and a small TV. Ther ewas no door and the bathroom was shared downstairs. Relucctently, I accepted the room and went for a walk to start some of my last minute errands. I just couldn't be bothered to start walking down the street with my bags in hopes of finding something else. (This is the one downside I find while traveling alone; I never want to hunt for a room)When I returned, paid the 175, 000 rp (about $18-19) and found my bag had been moved, the mosquitoe net nicely draw and coils laid out to be burned. I couldn't sit arround there, so I went off in the other direction to take care of some photo printing to send back to Lembongan.
I took care of my errands, but kept feeling uneasy and upset. I realized I hated my room and needed to move. I found a better room for less money at the place I had wanted to stay (as I walked that far down the street). I knew I would be unhappy and unsettled if I did not move. So, they drove me back, I picked up my bags, and settled in for a nice night. I did some email, had my favorite diner Ayam Sate (chicken with peanut sauce), prepared my package to send back to Lembongan, and went to a local bar I liked down the street to have a final Bintang or two. Then I took a hot shower (first in 3 weeks) and sat on the balconey over looking the pool trying to collect my thoughts. In the morning I repacked my bag and headed to the airport. My last night in Bali turned out to be simple and perfect; a calm before a 20+ journey home to face the storm of life back in the US.
In Sanur, I had a slight mishap with the room I was staying in last night. I booked a room upon a recomendation after I couldnot find the # of where I wanted to stay. The owner said it was the last room above the cafe. It turned out to be an open air loft speaparted into two sections. One with a queen bed, the other with 3 day beds and a small TV. Ther ewas no door and the bathroom was shared downstairs. Relucctently, I accepted the room and went for a walk to start some of my last minute errands. I just couldn't be bothered to start walking down the street with my bags in hopes of finding something else. (This is the one downside I find while traveling alone; I never want to hunt for a room)When I returned, paid the 175, 000 rp (about $18-19) and found my bag had been moved, the mosquitoe net nicely draw and coils laid out to be burned. I couldn't sit arround there, so I went off in the other direction to take care of some photo printing to send back to Lembongan.
I took care of my errands, but kept feeling uneasy and upset. I realized I hated my room and needed to move. I found a better room for less money at the place I had wanted to stay (as I walked that far down the street). I knew I would be unhappy and unsettled if I did not move. So, they drove me back, I picked up my bags, and settled in for a nice night. I did some email, had my favorite diner Ayam Sate (chicken with peanut sauce), prepared my package to send back to Lembongan, and went to a local bar I liked down the street to have a final Bintang or two. Then I took a hot shower (first in 3 weeks) and sat on the balconey over looking the pool trying to collect my thoughts. In the morning I repacked my bag and headed to the airport. My last night in Bali turned out to be simple and perfect; a calm before a 20+ journey home to face the storm of life back in the US.
Full Moon Ceremony
Last night I was very fortuneate to go to ceremony with my friend Putu. It was for full moon, but it was extra special because it is the 6 month full moon. Every 6 months the full moon ceremony is extra special. Everyone in the village (and Bali) had to make a pillgramage to their respective temples to pray and make offerings.
I had to dress in traditional Balanise clothing. So, I went to Putu's house in the village to get dressed. It was a little like getting ready to go "Out Out" or even getting ready for prom. The women put on make-up and wear clothes that are very expensive. Her firend Wayan's blouse was 1 million rp (just over $100). Then there is the corset, the sarong, the sash, and the shoes. I just wore my flip-flops, but they has on very nice wooden heels. The men wear a sarong, a sash, a white shirt, and a udeng (sash around their head).
After we got dressed, we took her motorbike to the temple. I was on the back, tightly wraped in my sarong. I had to sit side saddle with my feet neatly crossed; I finally looked like all the local women on the back of a bike. Hundreds and hundred of people walked, rode bikes, or took their motorbike along with us. We had to stop to pick up the banana leaf flowers that Putu had prepared for the ceremony.
When we arrived, many men were standing around the temple buying drinks or toys for their children. We went past and walked into the temple. 500+ people sat cross-legged waiting for the ceremony to begin. We walked through the thin make-shif aisle up to the front and sat one behind the other along the narrow pathway. We sat and sat for 25 minutes waiting to begin. We were right on time (or so I thought) for the 5 o'clock ceremony. Everyone we passed outside were waiting for this one to end, so they could attend one after.
Music began to play from the back instrumental gamelon with vocals as well. The priests went to each of the smaller structures withing the temple and blessed them with various waters, incenses, and plants. They then prepared the holy water. This took about 15 minutes. They went throughout the temple, sprinkling water on everyone. This is to clense them before praying.
An announcement came accross the loud speaker to begin the praying. They all chanted in unision and put their hands to their head in a praying mannner. They repeated this 3 mor times taking a flower that they brought and holding it between their hands. After each "prayer" they tucked the flower behind an ear or in the back of their head and got another. After the three flowers, they "prayed" once again with out one. The praying was finished.
The preiests again prepared the holy water and came around to each person. They sprinkled them and poured water into their hands. The person drank the water. They did this three times, then took a few peices of rice and stuck it to their foreheads and throuat around the Adam's Apple. When everyone did this (about 20 minutes) there was the ending announcement. The everyone rushed forward to collect their offerings or fruit and food. We, already at the front, were pushed to the back. Hundres of people then tried to squeeze through the opening 1.5 people wide. 400+ people were waiting outside patiently for their turn to attend ceremony.
I, surprizingly, had many friends there and was greated offen... much to the surprise of locals sitting around me. Additoinally, I was the only westerner in the temple. Many looked over the wall throughout the ceremony, but their view was probably of 500+ people sitting on the ground chanting. I, was blessed, drank the holy water, and recieved rice. I am very fortuneate to have had this experience. I am not about to convert to Hinuism, but I do respect my local friends beliefs much more now. While sitting on the dusty ground, trying not to be as fidgety as the 4 and 5 your-olds around me, I realized that this was the same as "church." That might sound funny for me not to have thought this already, but there was water, and praying, and preists, and eddiquitte, and obligation. I don't know if I could attend ceremony often, but now ve much more respect for religious beliefs.
I had to dress in traditional Balanise clothing. So, I went to Putu's house in the village to get dressed. It was a little like getting ready to go "Out Out" or even getting ready for prom. The women put on make-up and wear clothes that are very expensive. Her firend Wayan's blouse was 1 million rp (just over $100). Then there is the corset, the sarong, the sash, and the shoes. I just wore my flip-flops, but they has on very nice wooden heels. The men wear a sarong, a sash, a white shirt, and a udeng (sash around their head).
After we got dressed, we took her motorbike to the temple. I was on the back, tightly wraped in my sarong. I had to sit side saddle with my feet neatly crossed; I finally looked like all the local women on the back of a bike. Hundreds and hundred of people walked, rode bikes, or took their motorbike along with us. We had to stop to pick up the banana leaf flowers that Putu had prepared for the ceremony.
When we arrived, many men were standing around the temple buying drinks or toys for their children. We went past and walked into the temple. 500+ people sat cross-legged waiting for the ceremony to begin. We walked through the thin make-shif aisle up to the front and sat one behind the other along the narrow pathway. We sat and sat for 25 minutes waiting to begin. We were right on time (or so I thought) for the 5 o'clock ceremony. Everyone we passed outside were waiting for this one to end, so they could attend one after.
Music began to play from the back instrumental gamelon with vocals as well. The priests went to each of the smaller structures withing the temple and blessed them with various waters, incenses, and plants. They then prepared the holy water. This took about 15 minutes. They went throughout the temple, sprinkling water on everyone. This is to clense them before praying.
An announcement came accross the loud speaker to begin the praying. They all chanted in unision and put their hands to their head in a praying mannner. They repeated this 3 mor times taking a flower that they brought and holding it between their hands. After each "prayer" they tucked the flower behind an ear or in the back of their head and got another. After the three flowers, they "prayed" once again with out one. The praying was finished.
The preiests again prepared the holy water and came around to each person. They sprinkled them and poured water into their hands. The person drank the water. They did this three times, then took a few peices of rice and stuck it to their foreheads and throuat around the Adam's Apple. When everyone did this (about 20 minutes) there was the ending announcement. The everyone rushed forward to collect their offerings or fruit and food. We, already at the front, were pushed to the back. Hundres of people then tried to squeeze through the opening 1.5 people wide. 400+ people were waiting outside patiently for their turn to attend ceremony.
I, surprizingly, had many friends there and was greated offen... much to the surprise of locals sitting around me. Additoinally, I was the only westerner in the temple. Many looked over the wall throughout the ceremony, but their view was probably of 500+ people sitting on the ground chanting. I, was blessed, drank the holy water, and recieved rice. I am very fortuneate to have had this experience. I am not about to convert to Hinuism, but I do respect my local friends beliefs much more now. While sitting on the dusty ground, trying not to be as fidgety as the 4 and 5 your-olds around me, I realized that this was the same as "church." That might sound funny for me not to have thought this already, but there was water, and praying, and preists, and eddiquitte, and obligation. I don't know if I could attend ceremony often, but now ve much more respect for religious beliefs.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Nusa Lembongan: It Feels Like Home
I have been on the island of Nusa Lembongan, my old stopping grounds from last summer, for the past 10 days. I was greeted with open arms by so many local Balanise and local Ex-Pats that live on the island. I wanted to spend my last days amongst friends, in a place that was familiar. My stay here has been even better than I could have expected.
After my first day of diving, I had a visit by the local Dr. He was very good, but informed me that I had an ear and throat infection, and a stomach infection as well. I could not dive for 3 days and was at risk of puncturing my ear drum. Saddly, I took a few days off of diving. I caught up on some reading and viisted with friends, while eagerly awaing my return to my favorite dive sites.
When I was healthy again, the dive boat was quite full, so I began "working" as a divemaster to help out the shop. This essentially meant that I helped with the guests and would not be charged for diving. I have now had 6 really great days of diving. I have seen at least on Mola Mola, the huge oceanic sunfish at least once in 5 out of 6 days. Altogether I think I have seen 10 on my trip here, and a few really long and close encounters. I also dove with 5 huge manta rays for about an hour. Additionally, I know that I have been blessed with good dives and I have been luckier than most.
I have also been busy maintaining my local friendships and learning about the culture. A friend of mine recently had twins, so I was able to visit his house and meet the entire family. I have been taking a few cooking lessons to learn how to make my favoirte dishes from the various restaurants. Today I am heading to the local ceremony in full Balanise dress. And in the morning I am visiting the local school to see how they run their kindergarden/first grade.
In the afternoons I like to run around the island, some days longer and farther than others. It has helped my keep my physical and mental sanity as I prepare to head home. Seeing the villages just before sunset as people are bringing in their seaweed baskets for the day is a very calming way to run. I will miss the shadows, the passing motorbikes with passengers laughing, the children running and shouting "hello, hello!!!", and of course, the dogs chasing me on the far side of the island because they hardly ever see a western person.
My journey is coming to an end, and I am begginding to see how diverse my trip has actually been. All in all, I am so pleased to be back here and my love of this island has grown even more. I am sure I will be back, as I am already devising ways to stay for a long time.
After my first day of diving, I had a visit by the local Dr. He was very good, but informed me that I had an ear and throat infection, and a stomach infection as well. I could not dive for 3 days and was at risk of puncturing my ear drum. Saddly, I took a few days off of diving. I caught up on some reading and viisted with friends, while eagerly awaing my return to my favorite dive sites.
When I was healthy again, the dive boat was quite full, so I began "working" as a divemaster to help out the shop. This essentially meant that I helped with the guests and would not be charged for diving. I have now had 6 really great days of diving. I have seen at least on Mola Mola, the huge oceanic sunfish at least once in 5 out of 6 days. Altogether I think I have seen 10 on my trip here, and a few really long and close encounters. I also dove with 5 huge manta rays for about an hour. Additionally, I know that I have been blessed with good dives and I have been luckier than most.
I have also been busy maintaining my local friendships and learning about the culture. A friend of mine recently had twins, so I was able to visit his house and meet the entire family. I have been taking a few cooking lessons to learn how to make my favoirte dishes from the various restaurants. Today I am heading to the local ceremony in full Balanise dress. And in the morning I am visiting the local school to see how they run their kindergarden/first grade.
In the afternoons I like to run around the island, some days longer and farther than others. It has helped my keep my physical and mental sanity as I prepare to head home. Seeing the villages just before sunset as people are bringing in their seaweed baskets for the day is a very calming way to run. I will miss the shadows, the passing motorbikes with passengers laughing, the children running and shouting "hello, hello!!!", and of course, the dogs chasing me on the far side of the island because they hardly ever see a western person.
My journey is coming to an end, and I am begginding to see how diverse my trip has actually been. All in all, I am so pleased to be back here and my love of this island has grown even more. I am sure I will be back, as I am already devising ways to stay for a long time.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Trawangan Fine Dining
The dining options on Gili Trawangan absolutely blew my mind. I thought I was back in California. The prices were kind of high, compared to Bali and of course to the rest of Indonesia. However, the choices were endless. There was only a strip of restautrants, hotels, and bunglows about 1.5 Km long. It included a pizza and beer bar, and Indain restaurant, a Sushi place, a local warung with great cheap Indo food, many menus with western "mexican" food like chimichangas, quacamole and burritos, a western place with a wine list of 30+ bottles, ... the list goes on.Every place had fresh firsh and sea food set out each night for BBQing. Most bars would have a chalkboar signd that saing something to the effect of "we have F***in Bloody strong mushrroms." There was the moive place that had a big screen that show 2 pirated ovies a night and they had huts with TVs and DVD players so you could watch one of 600 pirated DVDs and eat ast your leisure. Horizantal bar had big, plush lounge chairs in the bar and large mats for on the beach. they served great martinis.
Now, I of cousre, spent a little time each night at the Irish Bar, Tir Na Nog. I am sure you son't find that hard to believe... Kimberly in and Irish bar. The local Vodka and Orange was 7000 rp, or 10,000 for a double!!! theire menu was great and they served brick oven pizzas. they also showed football on the big screen whenever it was on.
But my favorite place was Scallywags. It was an Organic restaurant with the most amazing dishes. It was a bit upscale, but I could not get enough. I would pay about 50,000 for a frest juice and an organic salade with imported cheese. Parmesean, goat, motzzerella..... and the leaves were just amazing.
You may think this is a bit silly... my report on the food. But in some places, tourists really run the market. I was flabbergasted by the variety, understaning of the prices as the locals (or western buisness owners) really had to work to get certain items on the menus, appauled at how commonplace this was for such a remote island, and astonished at my willingness to go right back into my old habbits of eating the best foods simply bcause I can. America is a culture run by food, and unfortuneatly, although I welcomed it a bit after some of the places I have been in the past month, The Gilis cater to tourists who have that same mentality.
Now, I of cousre, spent a little time each night at the Irish Bar, Tir Na Nog. I am sure you son't find that hard to believe... Kimberly in and Irish bar. The local Vodka and Orange was 7000 rp, or 10,000 for a double!!! theire menu was great and they served brick oven pizzas. they also showed football on the big screen whenever it was on.
But my favorite place was Scallywags. It was an Organic restaurant with the most amazing dishes. It was a bit upscale, but I could not get enough. I would pay about 50,000 for a frest juice and an organic salade with imported cheese. Parmesean, goat, motzzerella..... and the leaves were just amazing.
You may think this is a bit silly... my report on the food. But in some places, tourists really run the market. I was flabbergasted by the variety, understaning of the prices as the locals (or western buisness owners) really had to work to get certain items on the menus, appauled at how commonplace this was for such a remote island, and astonished at my willingness to go right back into my old habbits of eating the best foods simply bcause I can. America is a culture run by food, and unfortuneatly, although I welcomed it a bit after some of the places I have been in the past month, The Gilis cater to tourists who have that same mentality.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Gili Trawangan
There are three small islands of the northwestern coast of Lombok know as the Gilis. They are Gili Air, Gili Meno, and Gili Trawangan from shore out, and smallest to biggest. They are know for having "no police," which means it is virtually the only place in Indonesia where there are drugs. It used to be a big backpackers party scence, but it is nothing like I expected. I went to Trawangan, the largest, with the most people, most established, and best place to party. By largest, it is ab out 10 km in circumference. The islands are also know for diving... most specifically because the locals have dynamite fished around the islands for years and there is no coral or fish left about 20 meters. However, deeper, it is still as amazing as any other sites in Indonesia I have been to. It is also a great area to see turtles, sharks, and manta rays.
Let me start by saying I have been here 4 nights already and I have been in bed by 9 o'clock. I guess the partying does happen, I have just been sick with a headcold, trying to get over it so I can dive. The atmosphere is quite laid back and it is easy to just laze the days away. I find myself wandering from one beachfront restaurant to another, lounging in their thatched huts against large, cushy pillows ordering fresh juices or Bintangs, reading or just watching the water.
It is quite exzpensive here, especially at the moment. It is high season and accomodation prices are up 100-200% from usual. It is quite hard to find a room, especially for less than 150,000 rp (or about $15). This is double that in Bali. Some people show up and do not find any accomodation at all. I have heard that they share rooms (8 in a room for 2) or sleep on the beach. I was sharing with a fellow traveller I met in Sumatra, but now I am without roommate and my housing costs have just doubled. I would like to stay for a while, as the first 4 days I have not really been able to dive, but I will see how long my cash holds out. There are no banks or ATMs here... just a few moneychangers that offer awful rates.
Yesterday, my dive did not go well and my ear was paifully blocked for about 5 hours. They always say not to dive with a cold, and I can tell you from experience... it is NOT fun. I had to postpone the dive course I wanted to take. But, I plan to do a few dives tomarrow and start my class, as my dive today went really well. After that, it is as many fun dives as I can do before my money runs dry!!!
Let me start by saying I have been here 4 nights already and I have been in bed by 9 o'clock. I guess the partying does happen, I have just been sick with a headcold, trying to get over it so I can dive. The atmosphere is quite laid back and it is easy to just laze the days away. I find myself wandering from one beachfront restaurant to another, lounging in their thatched huts against large, cushy pillows ordering fresh juices or Bintangs, reading or just watching the water.
It is quite exzpensive here, especially at the moment. It is high season and accomodation prices are up 100-200% from usual. It is quite hard to find a room, especially for less than 150,000 rp (or about $15). This is double that in Bali. Some people show up and do not find any accomodation at all. I have heard that they share rooms (8 in a room for 2) or sleep on the beach. I was sharing with a fellow traveller I met in Sumatra, but now I am without roommate and my housing costs have just doubled. I would like to stay for a while, as the first 4 days I have not really been able to dive, but I will see how long my cash holds out. There are no banks or ATMs here... just a few moneychangers that offer awful rates.
Yesterday, my dive did not go well and my ear was paifully blocked for about 5 hours. They always say not to dive with a cold, and I can tell you from experience... it is NOT fun. I had to postpone the dive course I wanted to take. But, I plan to do a few dives tomarrow and start my class, as my dive today went really well. After that, it is as many fun dives as I can do before my money runs dry!!!
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Ubud: Shopping and Monkeys
I took the bus up to Ubud and stayed 3 days this year; last year I only came for the afternoon. It was such an odd feeling walking down the street and saying "I've eaten hear before," or "I bought a necklace here before." The town was as I remembered it, only there are more tourists this time around. I had high hopes of sitting at the pool each day and taking cooking classes. It turned into long, drawn out mornings recouporating from the previous evening ending in day-long shopping trips around the area. I realized its not such a good idea to do all your shopping mid trip, but I just couldn't help myself.
I did make it back to the monkey forest. They were just a mean and scarry as ever. One man got pick-pocketed by a monkey. By this I mean, a larger male monkey reached into this guys pocket and took his wallet. He then began to take out and taste each credit card and all the cash. The man started shouting, "he's got my driver's liscence!! I don't care about the money, I just want my credit cards." Onlookers replied "give him some food in trade," and "I guess the monkey wants a tip," as he was chewing on 50,000 rp bills and sicarding them casually to the ground. No one had a banana and he and his wife causally began to yell for help. The wife then ran to get a handler (men trained to deal with the monkeys). The monkey started backing further and further away, randomly dropping items from the wallet, as the crowd grew, laughed, and followed behind. All the while, the man continued to call out obsenities and "give me my wallet," directly to the monkey. The handler came and retrieved about half of the man's things. Then the monkey ran off the path into the forest. The handler followed and returned with all the possessions about 5 minutes later.
I also cam to a small pool of water, with a few flimsy braches about. Here there were monkeys jumping off the branches into the water and swimming around. It look like they were palying "King of the raft" on the branch, fighting to stay on the longgest. It also appeared that they would use the branch as a diving board. When the hit the water they would swim, face in the water, like an otter to the other side. About 7-9 monkeys were swimming in total, and a few more were just wading around the edges, washing their faces and drinking.
I also came across many, many mothers nursing. All the babies in the area seemed to be about the same size and age. I think only a few months. It was so nice to see the family habbits and culture amongst these animals. Brothers and sisters would play and "ruff house" together. Moms and dads would dutifully pick insects off each other and their children. Some famillies seemed closer than others.
My trip to Ubud this year was even better than last. I had tradditional Balinese raost duck dinner and learned the propper way to barter. I stocked up on goodies and hopefully got a few good pictures as well.
I did make it back to the monkey forest. They were just a mean and scarry as ever. One man got pick-pocketed by a monkey. By this I mean, a larger male monkey reached into this guys pocket and took his wallet. He then began to take out and taste each credit card and all the cash. The man started shouting, "he's got my driver's liscence!! I don't care about the money, I just want my credit cards." Onlookers replied "give him some food in trade," and "I guess the monkey wants a tip," as he was chewing on 50,000 rp bills and sicarding them casually to the ground. No one had a banana and he and his wife causally began to yell for help. The wife then ran to get a handler (men trained to deal with the monkeys). The monkey started backing further and further away, randomly dropping items from the wallet, as the crowd grew, laughed, and followed behind. All the while, the man continued to call out obsenities and "give me my wallet," directly to the monkey. The handler came and retrieved about half of the man's things. Then the monkey ran off the path into the forest. The handler followed and returned with all the possessions about 5 minutes later.
I also cam to a small pool of water, with a few flimsy braches about. Here there were monkeys jumping off the branches into the water and swimming around. It look like they were palying "King of the raft" on the branch, fighting to stay on the longgest. It also appeared that they would use the branch as a diving board. When the hit the water they would swim, face in the water, like an otter to the other side. About 7-9 monkeys were swimming in total, and a few more were just wading around the edges, washing their faces and drinking.
I also came across many, many mothers nursing. All the babies in the area seemed to be about the same size and age. I think only a few months. It was so nice to see the family habbits and culture amongst these animals. Brothers and sisters would play and "ruff house" together. Moms and dads would dutifully pick insects off each other and their children. Some famillies seemed closer than others.
My trip to Ubud this year was even better than last. I had tradditional Balinese raost duck dinner and learned the propper way to barter. I stocked up on goodies and hopefully got a few good pictures as well.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Back to Bali
On Friday, I took the minivan from Gapang Beach on Pulau Weh to the ferry, the ferry back to Banda Ache, a night bus back to Medan, a free car ride from a guys brother I met on the bus to the airport, a plane to Jakarta, 5 hours later a plane to Bali, and then a taxi to the east coast town of Sanur which was my home base last summer. 30 hours in total and I felt totaly at home in Sanur. I had a nice meal, went to a bar for a drink (imagine a real bar that serves alcohol), and then went back to my room for a hot shower and some TV. In the morning I did some internet that was actually faster than 1 page every 10 minutes, walked to the bach and had some lunch, and absorbed my new, yet reminicent surroundings.
The feeling of being back in Bali is not quite like deja vu, but it is so comforting. Most things look the same as I remember, but there has been some construction and new things to see. I could have driven myself if I had a car. Streets, sounds, people, prices... all look so familiar. I feel so confident walking down the street knowing where I need to be and how much the proper price is.
However, the change from Sumatra isquite dramatic. There were no tourists in Sumatra. Menus listed possibilities for dinner, but often only half was available. I'd have to often ask myslef, "Where in the world am I?" Quiet had a different meaning. But in Bali, there are westerners everywhere. Anything and everything can be gotten for a pretty good price. I knw where I am and how to get where I want to go. Quiet was an illusion I held close to my heart for the past year. Although there are some simple, secluded places in Bali (or so I thought), there is no comparison to the remoteness of Sumatra.
I am so glad to be back, and even more appreciative of where I have just come from.
The feeling of being back in Bali is not quite like deja vu, but it is so comforting. Most things look the same as I remember, but there has been some construction and new things to see. I could have driven myself if I had a car. Streets, sounds, people, prices... all look so familiar. I feel so confident walking down the street knowing where I need to be and how much the proper price is.
However, the change from Sumatra isquite dramatic. There were no tourists in Sumatra. Menus listed possibilities for dinner, but often only half was available. I'd have to often ask myslef, "Where in the world am I?" Quiet had a different meaning. But in Bali, there are westerners everywhere. Anything and everything can be gotten for a pretty good price. I knw where I am and how to get where I want to go. Quiet was an illusion I held close to my heart for the past year. Although there are some simple, secluded places in Bali (or so I thought), there is no comparison to the remoteness of Sumatra.
I am so glad to be back, and even more appreciative of where I have just come from.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Pulau Weh
I took a minivan back to Medan. There I got money, did about 30 minutes worth of email, and bought as many alcholol bottles that would fit into my backpack. I then climbed onto another nightbus and headed north to Banda Ache... the nothern tip of Sumatra. This area is recovering from many years of violent conflict between the Indonesian government and the very strick mulim governemnt of Banda Ache. The conflict ended when the tusnami hit the area (the same one that hit western Thailand) and destroyed just about everything.
The ride was about 12 hours and very pleasant compared to the mountainous, no-road climb through central Sumatra. I arrived about 6:30 in the mornign and took a becak (motorbike fitted with a sidecar) to the ferry. I waited through a downpour for the 9:30 departure to Pulau Weh; a small island off the north tip of Sumatra.
It was a Friday, and from what I had heard, accomodation can be limited and more a\expensive, as my NGOs, who live in the area and are helping to rebuild, like to weekend on this remote and quite island. I knew prices would be a bit higher, as the island is remote and NGOs typically have more money and are the majority of tourism in the area. the 45 minute minivan ride from the ferry to Iboh was 50,000 rp!!!! All the westerners on the boat (about 12) shared the same van. We all went to the same Ibioh Beach and scrambled for accomodation once we stopped. I had heard many recomendations that this, of the two main beaches, was the place to stay. There were 4-6 bungalow opperations to choose from, all with pretty rustic accomadation. They were spread out about along a 1-2 km footpath that went up and down along the woods, about 30 meters above the water. In the middle, there was the small beach; it contained a dive shop, the remains of the old dive shop, a restaurant, a snorkle-gear rental hut that also sold surongs and flip-flops, and the town well, which served as the water source and mani (bath) for most of the bungalows in the area.
I kept moving past the beach, up the next hill, and found a bungalow with attached mani at O'ong's. It was run by a brother and sister and overlooked a great piece of water. I was satisfied for the moment and tried to relax into my new, quite, basic surroundings. I snorkeled of the rocks in the afternoon, and set up a pick-up in the morning to dive with the dive shop on Gapang Beach- the beach I did not choose. I had a sunset cocktail (imported Vodka from Medan) in the hammock on the balcony. I really thought I could stay there forever.
I would walk to the dive shop at about 9:45 for the first dive each morning. I'd get some lunch and shower at the dive shop. At the main road was a local place that server excellent curry and Padang food. I tried to go around 1, right after she had finished cooking. At 2, I'd walk back to the beach for the second dive. Things were quiet and peaceful, but there was no internet (that I was able to use) and sometimes could not get exactly what was on the menu. All in all, life was good.
I needed to buy plane tickets on the internet, so I took a day off diving and took a motorbike into Sebang, the main city. The only trouble was that the shops randomly closed in the afternoon sometime between 11 and 4. Each shop at a different time, for a differnt length of time. Internet, did not turn out to be as easy as I hoped. Consequently, I also drove along the secluded east coast and saw some amazing beaches in complete privacy. When I did get to the internet, it took me 2 hours to make A plane ticket reservation on AirAsia. I could not check email, or post to the blog. Although frustrated, I did complete my mission and saw Pulau Weh to a deeper and fuller extent.
The rest of the week was supposed to be for diving. But a bout of food poisoning left me in bed for a day and a half. Altogether I did 8 dives on Pulau Weh and loved my 7 days there. I was unable to dive the deep wreck, as it was undiveable at the time. I know that I will return to and dive there again.
The ride was about 12 hours and very pleasant compared to the mountainous, no-road climb through central Sumatra. I arrived about 6:30 in the mornign and took a becak (motorbike fitted with a sidecar) to the ferry. I waited through a downpour for the 9:30 departure to Pulau Weh; a small island off the north tip of Sumatra.
It was a Friday, and from what I had heard, accomodation can be limited and more a\expensive, as my NGOs, who live in the area and are helping to rebuild, like to weekend on this remote and quite island. I knew prices would be a bit higher, as the island is remote and NGOs typically have more money and are the majority of tourism in the area. the 45 minute minivan ride from the ferry to Iboh was 50,000 rp!!!! All the westerners on the boat (about 12) shared the same van. We all went to the same Ibioh Beach and scrambled for accomodation once we stopped. I had heard many recomendations that this, of the two main beaches, was the place to stay. There were 4-6 bungalow opperations to choose from, all with pretty rustic accomadation. They were spread out about along a 1-2 km footpath that went up and down along the woods, about 30 meters above the water. In the middle, there was the small beach; it contained a dive shop, the remains of the old dive shop, a restaurant, a snorkle-gear rental hut that also sold surongs and flip-flops, and the town well, which served as the water source and mani (bath) for most of the bungalows in the area.
I kept moving past the beach, up the next hill, and found a bungalow with attached mani at O'ong's. It was run by a brother and sister and overlooked a great piece of water. I was satisfied for the moment and tried to relax into my new, quite, basic surroundings. I snorkeled of the rocks in the afternoon, and set up a pick-up in the morning to dive with the dive shop on Gapang Beach- the beach I did not choose. I had a sunset cocktail (imported Vodka from Medan) in the hammock on the balcony. I really thought I could stay there forever.
The next day I got picked up by motorbike and headed for Gapang. I did 2 dives and got dropped off by boat back on the beach in Ibioh. The dives were pretty good, but more importantly I felt at home 26 meters under the water. It had been so long since my last dive I almost forgot how much I love it. In Ibioh, things were quite. There was no chicken (let alone and meat) to be found on the menu and the one restaurant in town, and a Bintang (the Indonesian beer) was 20,000 rp for a CAN!!! A 22 oz. bottle normally costs between 16-20,000 rp. Things were not looking so good. I spent sunset on the balcony again, and my bar bill ran me 100,000 rp for 5 little beers. That night I got eaten alive. I could not tell if it was mosquitoes or bed bugs, but when I woke up, I packed my bag. The boat picked me up for the first dive and dropped me off at the beach. During the surface interval I got my things and took a motorbike and moved to Gapang.
In Gapang, it was just as quite. Accomadation started at the main road. There were two places with about 25 bungalows along the little road (about 200 meters), then the road stopped and turned to sand at the beach. There were a few restaurants and the dive shop along this longer, more proper beach. In all, there were about 20 westerners all togther the week I was there. The move lightened my mood and I began to really enjoy living on Pulau Weh.I would walk to the dive shop at about 9:45 for the first dive each morning. I'd get some lunch and shower at the dive shop. At the main road was a local place that server excellent curry and Padang food. I tried to go around 1, right after she had finished cooking. At 2, I'd walk back to the beach for the second dive. Things were quiet and peaceful, but there was no internet (that I was able to use) and sometimes could not get exactly what was on the menu. All in all, life was good.
I needed to buy plane tickets on the internet, so I took a day off diving and took a motorbike into Sebang, the main city. The only trouble was that the shops randomly closed in the afternoon sometime between 11 and 4. Each shop at a different time, for a differnt length of time. Internet, did not turn out to be as easy as I hoped. Consequently, I also drove along the secluded east coast and saw some amazing beaches in complete privacy. When I did get to the internet, it took me 2 hours to make A plane ticket reservation on AirAsia. I could not check email, or post to the blog. Although frustrated, I did complete my mission and saw Pulau Weh to a deeper and fuller extent.
The rest of the week was supposed to be for diving. But a bout of food poisoning left me in bed for a day and a half. Altogether I did 8 dives on Pulau Weh and loved my 7 days there. I was unable to dive the deep wreck, as it was undiveable at the time. I know that I will return to and dive there again.
Bewkit Lewang: The Jungle
On the bumpy mini-van ride, a local got on about 25 km before the town. His English was good and he let me practice my Indonesian with him. He spoke of the town, the orang-atangs, and accomodation. He was, what guides in the Bewkit Lewang call, "hunting." About 4 years agoin in November, the river in the middle of the town flooded. It was a flash flood that killed many people and destroyed half the town. Only some of it has since been rebuilt, but visiting the National Park and the Orangutang rehabilitation center is the only source of income for the town. Unfortunately, there are too many guides for the amount of tourists. So, they will take the bus to Medan or somewhere in between and ride back into the town, chatting up tourists, hoping to get clients. It is a rather good buisness tactic, but is made me really uncomfortable.
(to be continued...)
(to be continued...)
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Danu Toba to Bewkit Lewang: Public Transport
It all seemed so easy... a 3.5 hour bus to Medan, then a 3 hour bus to Bewkit Lewang. But the journey, via public transit, was an experience in and of itself. The local buses should have only cost 26,000 rupiah, which is about 3 US dollars. It was the only way, as private transport would have cost more like 700,000 ($80) and a tourist bus with delayed times, was 80,000 ($9). It started with the ferry back across the lake (7,000 rp).
It was 9 am and for once the sun was shining over the lake. I new a local bus would be waiting when I stepped off the 20 minute boat ride. There were abot 15 other tourists going in the same direction so I was not too worried. But when the boat "docked," which is to say it nose ended into the cement wall and we all jumped off the front, everyone scattered. I saw a bus and headed towards it. A local man said that bus was not going to Medan, but he had a bus that was for 18,000 rp... the price I already had been quoted. But I had to wait "just 5 minutes." As I waited, I learned the bus that was already there was going to Medan, so I got on it. A huge argument broke out between all of the bus opperators over who would drive the American to Medan. The man tried to pull, litterally, me off the bus twice. They started throwing luggaage off the bottom of the bus. I had taken both my backpacks with me onto the bus. There was an Austrailan man with his new Indonesian bride (they were on their honeymoon) sitting on the bus watching. She tried to politely tell the man that we had the choice to go on whichever bus we wanted. They had to go get their luggage off the ground, as theirs was pulled off too. Finally, the bus left, the man accepted that he lost a customer, and I was on my way to Medan. The bus was 18,000 rp in the end.
(to be continued...)
It was 9 am and for once the sun was shining over the lake. I new a local bus would be waiting when I stepped off the 20 minute boat ride. There were abot 15 other tourists going in the same direction so I was not too worried. But when the boat "docked," which is to say it nose ended into the cement wall and we all jumped off the front, everyone scattered. I saw a bus and headed towards it. A local man said that bus was not going to Medan, but he had a bus that was for 18,000 rp... the price I already had been quoted. But I had to wait "just 5 minutes." As I waited, I learned the bus that was already there was going to Medan, so I got on it. A huge argument broke out between all of the bus opperators over who would drive the American to Medan. The man tried to pull, litterally, me off the bus twice. They started throwing luggaage off the bottom of the bus. I had taken both my backpacks with me onto the bus. There was an Austrailan man with his new Indonesian bride (they were on their honeymoon) sitting on the bus watching. She tried to politely tell the man that we had the choice to go on whichever bus we wanted. They had to go get their luggage off the ground, as theirs was pulled off too. Finally, the bus left, the man accepted that he lost a customer, and I was on my way to Medan. The bus was 18,000 rp in the end.
(to be continued...)
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Danu Toba
The bus ride to Danu Toba took 16 hours overnight through the middle of Sumatra. Thanks to a Dramamine and a sleeping pill it was not as bad as I thought. Then is was a quite opulet ride and ferry across the lake to the large island in the middle. I am staying in Tuk Tuk which used to be a resort area for travellers. Now is is quite depressing as there are no tourists and quite a lot of locals who have not been able to change their mindset/profession away from tourism.
The lake (danu) is the largest in Southeast Asia and is high in the mountains. It was created by two volcanic explossions and is quiet deep and large. There is a large island in the middle about 290 km in circumference, and Tuk Tuk jets out of the eastern end and is about 7-10 km in cercumfrence. The main island is like a plateau with the sides climbing up high like a mountain, and then is is flat all the way accross to the other side. I defineately feel like I am living in the sky as the clouds hand all around, and we are inside mountain creaters.
It rains her quite a bit, so it is turning out to be a good place for drinking. Yesderday I rented a bike with the hope to make it to a market about 40km arourd to the north. About an hour into the ride it began to rain, so the ride turned into a pub crawl on the way home in between showers.
Overall, the locals are very friendly and the food is quite good. I am continuing to learn and practice Indonesian and I am begining to hold conversations of 4-8 sentences. This part of my trip is very relaxing and perfect after a long bus ride. I think it was worth it.
The lake (danu) is the largest in Southeast Asia and is high in the mountains. It was created by two volcanic explossions and is quiet deep and large. There is a large island in the middle about 290 km in circumference, and Tuk Tuk jets out of the eastern end and is about 7-10 km in cercumfrence. The main island is like a plateau with the sides climbing up high like a mountain, and then is is flat all the way accross to the other side. I defineately feel like I am living in the sky as the clouds hand all around, and we are inside mountain creaters.
It rains her quite a bit, so it is turning out to be a good place for drinking. Yesderday I rented a bike with the hope to make it to a market about 40km arourd to the north. About an hour into the ride it began to rain, so the ride turned into a pub crawl on the way home in between showers.
Overall, the locals are very friendly and the food is quite good. I am continuing to learn and practice Indonesian and I am begining to hold conversations of 4-8 sentences. This part of my trip is very relaxing and perfect after a long bus ride. I think it was worth it.
Monday, July 16, 2007
West Sumatra
I made it to Padang, the main city in West Sumatra, Indonesia, on the 12 th of July. I was feeling quite ill after a night layover in Kuala Lumpur's Chinatown. Let's just say my walk about turned into a fun evening sharing beers and buckets of Red Bull-Vodkas with a few very kind and generous Aussie boys. So, my 7 a.m. flight, and 3:30 hotel departure were quite hard on the system.
All-in-all, I made it alive, but was not too excited about the city. I quickly departed for Bonkus Beach, about 20 km south of the city. This was the Indo I remembered. $10 bungalows, on th e beach, facing the Indian Ocean. I spent a day snorkeling o n deserted beaches off the coast. I hiked a trial up to a waterfall and went swimming. I ventured about 30 km south to some surrounding villages and towns via motorbike. I began to use my Indonesian language skills and felt it all coming back to me.
On the 15th, I took many little opulets and a mini-bus to Bukkittinggi, about 100 km north of Padang. Opulets are the local vans that stop whenever someone is standing on the side of the road and you ca n h itch a ride for about 25 cents. They comfortably seat 7-8, but we fit 13 in one, with a bike on the roof. Bukkittinggi is in the "mountains" between 2 volcanoes. It is a bit cooler and very Muslim. The prayer chants started at 5:30 this morning and continued on and off until about 9. I trekked through a canyon ravene in hopes of finding a local village. The hour walk took about 2 and a half. Needless to say I am still practicing my Indonesian and getting LOTS of exercise.
Padang food is quite spicy compared to other parts of Indonesia. Additionally, if you walk into a restaurant serving local food there are no menus. After about 3 minutes, they will bring you a plate of rice, a warm tea, an d about 5-8 dishes of food. Usually there will be a few different meat choices and a few veggies. You pick what you want and e at it. When you are finished , the server counts the number of bowls you took food from and makes your bill accordingly. I find the food is good, there's defineatly a varriety , but often you don't know what is in front of you or how long i t has been sitting out . Who says good food has to be sanitary, anyways???
Tomorrow, I hope to take a motorbike around the area and see the surrounding villages and rice fields. Then it is off for a 3 o'clock bus north to Danu Toba, a lake in the middle of the northern half of Sumatra. I will cross the equator over land for the first time and leave West Sumatra for North Sumatra.
All-in-all, I made it alive, but was not too excited about the city. I quickly departed for Bonkus Beach, about 20 km south of the city. This was the Indo I remembered. $10 bungalows, on th e beach, facing the Indian Ocean. I spent a day snorkeling o n deserted beaches off the coast. I hiked a trial up to a waterfall and went swimming. I ventured about 30 km south to some surrounding villages and towns via motorbike. I began to use my Indonesian language skills and felt it all coming back to me.
On the 15th, I took many little opulets and a mini-bus to Bukkittinggi, about 100 km north of Padang. Opulets are the local vans that stop whenever someone is standing on the side of the road and you ca n h itch a ride for about 25 cents. They comfortably seat 7-8, but we fit 13 in one, with a bike on the roof. Bukkittinggi is in the "mountains" between 2 volcanoes. It is a bit cooler and very Muslim. The prayer chants started at 5:30 this morning and continued on and off until about 9. I trekked through a canyon ravene in hopes of finding a local village. The hour walk took about 2 and a half. Needless to say I am still practicing my Indonesian and getting LOTS of exercise.
Padang food is quite spicy compared to other parts of Indonesia. Additionally, if you walk into a restaurant serving local food there are no menus. After about 3 minutes, they will bring you a plate of rice, a warm tea, an d about 5-8 dishes of food. Usually there will be a few different meat choices and a few veggies. You pick what you want and e at it. When you are finished , the server counts the number of bowls you took food from and makes your bill accordingly. I find the food is good, there's defineatly a varriety , but often you don't know what is in front of you or how long i t has been sitting out . Who says good food has to be sanitary, anyways???
Tomorrow, I hope to take a motorbike around the area and see the surrounding villages and rice fields. Then it is off for a 3 o'clock bus north to Danu Toba, a lake in the middle of the northern half of Sumatra. I will cross the equator over land for the first time and leave West Sumatra for North Sumatra.
The Children of Angkor
As you walk around the temples, children approach you to buy their wares. This can be anything from a beaded bracelet to a bamboo bell or recorder to a good quality- photocopied guide book of Angkor. There business tactics are amazing and their bartering ability is far stronger than mine. At first, everything is "1 for $1" If you are at all interested and begin to discuss the item in question, the price instantly goes up to $5.
As you enter or leave a temple you hear shouts from across the road " Lady, you need cold drink!!?" which is more of a statement than a question. The sellers haggle and push their items as you try to enter. Then comes the key phrase. "OK... you remember me and buy when you leave." One evening, a little boy, who looked 4 ( who was probably 8) followed me around wanting me to buy a flute. When I say followed, he was not really behind me, rather, every 5 minutes he would pop out from another corner. Obviously he knew his way around much better than I.
The sweetest girl wanted me to buy a bracelet while I was leaving a structure inside Angkor Thom. She was proabably 4 based on her language abilities. W hen she understood that I was not going to buy, she asked for candy. (Whenever the children realize they will not get any money, candy is the next best thing.) I told her I did not have any so she w anted money. I offered her 500 riel for a bracelet and s he confidently shoo k her head and said it was more. I gave her another thousand which should have been good. She cal led her brother and motioned if it was enough. He confidently said "another 500." I only had 1000, so the little girl got 2500 riel (about 62 cents) when the going rate among the temples is 4 for $1. I got taken for a fast one, but she got money for food and now I have a cool beaded bracelet. All in all it was a win-win, but I never bought an other thing while exploring Angkor.
On the t op of Ta Keo , I spoke with a girl at length... after she understood that no money would be coming. One o f her lines was "I need money for school." This was actually quite true. I asked her why she wasn't there at that moment. She informed me that school is in the afternoon and she comes to the temple every morning before school. I asked about her age which turned out to be 12. She did not look a day over 8. She said foreigners always think Cambodian children are younger than they are, simply because in Cambodia they are "too small." She told me she would gladly accept pens from me if I did not have any candy or money to give her.
Besides the place being spiritual and moving, the people and children who make it their home live lives I cannot even imagine. They know the tourists have money and it really is an income that they work hard to get. I personally could not bring myself to give money, although I did let myself be over charged by children for little trinkets. Rather, I would give water or food whenever I had it. With this I was comfortable and believed I did some good.
As you enter or leave a temple you hear shouts from across the road " Lady, you need cold drink!!?" which is more of a statement than a question. The sellers haggle and push their items as you try to enter. Then comes the key phrase. "OK... you remember me and buy when you leave." One evening, a little boy, who looked 4 ( who was probably 8) followed me around wanting me to buy a flute. When I say followed, he was not really behind me, rather, every 5 minutes he would pop out from another corner. Obviously he knew his way around much better than I.
The sweetest girl wanted me to buy a bracelet while I was leaving a structure inside Angkor Thom. She was proabably 4 based on her language abilities. W hen she understood that I was not going to buy, she asked for candy. (Whenever the children realize they will not get any money, candy is the next best thing.) I told her I did not have any so she w anted money. I offered her 500 riel for a bracelet and s he confidently shoo k her head and said it was more. I gave her another thousand which should have been good. She cal led her brother and motioned if it was enough. He confidently said "another 500." I only had 1000, so the little girl got 2500 riel (about 62 cents) when the going rate among the temples is 4 for $1. I got taken for a fast one, but she got money for food and now I have a cool beaded bracelet. All in all it was a win-win, but I never bought an other thing while exploring Angkor.
On the t op of Ta Keo , I spoke with a girl at length... after she understood that no money would be coming. One o f her lines was "I need money for school." This was actually quite true. I asked her why she wasn't there at that moment. She informed me that school is in the afternoon and she comes to the temple every morning before school. I asked about her age which turned out to be 12. She did not look a day over 8. She said foreigners always think Cambodian children are younger than they are, simply because in Cambodia they are "too small." She told me she would gladly accept pens from me if I did not have any candy or money to give her.
Besides the place being spiritual and moving, the people and children who make it their home live lives I cannot even imagine. They know the tourists have money and it really is an income that they work hard to get. I personally could not bring myself to give money, although I did let myself be over charged by children for little trinkets. Rather, I would give water or food whenever I had it. With this I was comfortable and believed I did some good.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
The Temples of Angkor
I came to Cambodia to see Angkor Wat. When I arrived in Siep Reap, I found out what this truly meant. Rather than an amazing temple, I discovered that there are many, many temple ruins dating from about 1000-1350 AD. Angkor Wat is only one. In actuality, Angkor means city. There are two big "Angkor" cities among the ruins discovered in the area, and other ruins scattered around the jungle in all directions.
The idea of Angkor Wat is like Disneyland in the US. Many tourists from all over, especially northern Asia come on packaged tours to be bused around the area with their cameras and guides. They stay in monsterous hotels and travel around in packs, scrounging for the best spots to take pictures.
My experience was quite different. To get into the park, you must pay $20 a day, or get a 3 day pass for $40. I did this route. I hired a motorbike driver Prom (with a very rolled R, and an elongated short O) for $10 a day to take me at my liesure around to the temples of my choosing. I later found out this was a good price, as the going rate is $12. He was not allowed to enter any site, but would dutifully drop me off at the entrance and wait in the shade for me to reemerge. He wore an official vest that mortorbike drivers in the park must have, which costs him $20 a month. He gave advice as to what to see at what times, and at first this helped tremendously. But as the days went on, my knowledge of the area grew and my tastes became more specific.
I had cammera troubles the first day and ran out of memory by 10:30 am. I got to see all of Angkor Thom and one other temple called Ta Keo (I think) We came back in the evening for the sunset. Instead of going strait to the temple for a sunset view, we stopped at a flat long temple which was very overgrown. The insects at dusk were too much for me to handle while beating back the crowds, and I decided to had back to town.
The second day I started at Angkor Wat, in hopes to catch the sunrise. I got there at 6... about 15 minutes late, to find about 500 people inside the gate watching the sunrise over the temple. It was still a great site, and most of them left right away. I spent 2 hours inside Angkor Wat, and climbed every peak I could find. We then continued to Ta Prom (with over grown trees and a wreck of a ruin), and then we headed north to Banda Srei and the Cambodian land mine museum.
This day I discovered that the ruins could be broken up into 2 categories: 1) temple mountian, and 2) flat ruins with a central temple sanctuary. The flatter ruins were overcome more by the jungle and I found them very creepy. The temple-mountains were more like fortresses reaching to the sky. I loved these and would cautiously climb up every stair and sit perched for hours looking at the scenery, writing my my journal, and even read.
The third day I completed the "grand circut" which was 26 km around. I discovered that in the middle of the day... the hot part... most of the tourists go back to their hotels for lunch. I was able to see many sites virtually alone. I visited some of my favorites again and ended with a temple-mountain up on a hill overlooking all of Siep Reap and the surrounding area. I spent my last two hours here watching, looking, reflecting.
I cannot describe with words what I saw or how intense and personal this experience. I think I took over 700 picutures, but those are just images (probably never to be printed). The area of Angkor Wat really is a natural wonder that can only be understood by a personal visit.
The idea of Angkor Wat is like Disneyland in the US. Many tourists from all over, especially northern Asia come on packaged tours to be bused around the area with their cameras and guides. They stay in monsterous hotels and travel around in packs, scrounging for the best spots to take pictures.
My experience was quite different. To get into the park, you must pay $20 a day, or get a 3 day pass for $40. I did this route. I hired a motorbike driver Prom (with a very rolled R, and an elongated short O) for $10 a day to take me at my liesure around to the temples of my choosing. I later found out this was a good price, as the going rate is $12. He was not allowed to enter any site, but would dutifully drop me off at the entrance and wait in the shade for me to reemerge. He wore an official vest that mortorbike drivers in the park must have, which costs him $20 a month. He gave advice as to what to see at what times, and at first this helped tremendously. But as the days went on, my knowledge of the area grew and my tastes became more specific.
I had cammera troubles the first day and ran out of memory by 10:30 am. I got to see all of Angkor Thom and one other temple called Ta Keo (I think) We came back in the evening for the sunset. Instead of going strait to the temple for a sunset view, we stopped at a flat long temple which was very overgrown. The insects at dusk were too much for me to handle while beating back the crowds, and I decided to had back to town.
The second day I started at Angkor Wat, in hopes to catch the sunrise. I got there at 6... about 15 minutes late, to find about 500 people inside the gate watching the sunrise over the temple. It was still a great site, and most of them left right away. I spent 2 hours inside Angkor Wat, and climbed every peak I could find. We then continued to Ta Prom (with over grown trees and a wreck of a ruin), and then we headed north to Banda Srei and the Cambodian land mine museum.
This day I discovered that the ruins could be broken up into 2 categories: 1) temple mountian, and 2) flat ruins with a central temple sanctuary. The flatter ruins were overcome more by the jungle and I found them very creepy. The temple-mountains were more like fortresses reaching to the sky. I loved these and would cautiously climb up every stair and sit perched for hours looking at the scenery, writing my my journal, and even read.
The third day I completed the "grand circut" which was 26 km around. I discovered that in the middle of the day... the hot part... most of the tourists go back to their hotels for lunch. I was able to see many sites virtually alone. I visited some of my favorites again and ended with a temple-mountain up on a hill overlooking all of Siep Reap and the surrounding area. I spent my last two hours here watching, looking, reflecting.
I cannot describe with words what I saw or how intense and personal this experience. I think I took over 700 picutures, but those are just images (probably never to be printed). The area of Angkor Wat really is a natural wonder that can only be understood by a personal visit.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Boat Ride from Battambang
When I left Phnom Penh, I took the bus directly west to the city of Battambang, which supposedly is te second biggest city in Cambodia (I'll have to check on that.) I spent the night there so I could take the "fast" boat up te Stung Sangker River, into Tonle Sap Lake to go to Siem Reap. There was a transfer from the hotel directly to the boat. But when we got to the river, motor bikes with tourists were leaving, shouting the boat is down river. 3 Cambodians jumped into the van, although I never found out if they worked on the boat, or were just hitching a ride. We trided a few bridges in searc for the one that the boat was tided to. Finally we drovedown a muddy path which lead to the boat.
I got a seat on the roof, which was nice because it was cloudy and not too hot. We took off... 12 or so on the roof, 25 + down on the inside... heading north with the river towards Siem Reap. We passed houses and shacks along te river in between the green trees leading into the river. Children would wave and yell "Hello" out of each group of structures. We occasionally met a boat in the middle to pick someone up or once for a boombox tied shut with a rag for a handle. There were schools and wats and small semblences of neigborhoods with people selling goods, boats for work and for trasport, wood collectors, motor bikes and bicycles. The part took 1.5-2 hours.
The river narrowed and began tomeander with sharp curves. The landscape turned to marshland with tall dried reeds, heavy bushes and plants, and rice fields in the distance. We got stuck at thin stretch about 3 feet wider than the boat on each side. Pieces of wood and debris got caught up and we hit bottom. The skilled boatmen pushed us free in about 10 minutes. Shortly after we had to stop again for a group of cows, 7-9, walked into the river, got caught in the current, and were swimming down stream from side-to-side. Eventually, with much use of the horn, they managed to stay on one side, just long enough for us to pass. The rier widended a bit and we had to play bumper boats at each corner. We'd get as close as we could to the inside corner, slow down, and honk the horn like mad. The boat man at the front would use the pole to stop of from running into te brush on the opposite river bank. We'd push off backwards, gently spin into the right direction, the motor would start up again, and we'd be back down the river. This system worked great except for when a turn would coinside with oncoming boat traffic. At one such turn, we could not hug the inside corrner as planned. We had to cut our engine, as not to hit the oncoming boats. We then drifted quite quickly into the jungle brush on the opposite bank. I was standing during the crash, and fell to my knees to grab my bag. At the site of impact, there were scratches and stunned looks. The boatmen did not even srug and continued on our journey.
Finally the river began to widen and become more poulated. Now there were patches of floating stuctures tied togther or to land. Not quite boats/not quite house shaped. We docked at a "convienence" store, this floating groups version of 7-11 for a 10 minute break. The locals piled onto the deck and quickly got a bowl of local fare: glass noodles and a watery meal/vegetable-like broth. The forigers bought platic sealed breads and water. I thought I was getting a local packaged iced tea... but it turned out to be an Asian (not sure which country) version of take-away Red Bull. I had to pour most of it into the river. I sat on the top with th locals and they quickly chowed down their food. Cell service was very good, as a few chatted on the phone, no doubtedly telling friends when the boat was expected down the river.
We took off, only halfway finished with our journey. The river widened some more, and sparatic housing groups of 3-9 would pop up on each side of the river. On top of fishing, I learned that the people grow green leafy vegetables on the river. By this, I mean they use bamboo to mark off the edges of their garden, and grow plants whoose roots form in the water. Besides making the initial stucture and planting, these gardens require no work. We continued to stop sparaticaly to let people off on awaiting boats, or occasionally, if none came out to meet us, we would dock just long enough for a Cambodian to hop onto a structure. It was us to them to find a way to get to the shack they wanted, as going onto the land was rarely an option.
Eventually, we came to the great lake in the middle of Cambodia: Tonle Sap. I knew we had to cross to the northern side to dock at Siem Reap. The lake was massive and brown, desolate, dreary, and baking in the sun. It took 45 minutes of eager waiting to get to the other side. Many of us fell asleep during the previous portion, and I had awoke to a bad sunburn on my lower shins. Dispite my eforts of sublock and bug repellant, I could not excape the forces of nature.
A last, our crossing was over, and we had to make way us a tiny channel through the Floating Village of Phnom Krom. This was an extensive group of houses, boats, shelters, and buildings where people lived along the river. We passed a floating school, filled of children reciting chants, some running outside to watch the boats (what kind of classoom management is that, I wondered). Next came their floating playground yard: a flat strcture with volleyball net and court painted on the floor, surround by chain link fense so no children would fall into the water. Every type of store or service could be found on at leas one of the boats. The true mysticism of this place is that is has a name, but not a location. As the water levels rise and fall through the wet and dry season, the village floats along the rivers and and aournd the edge of the lake.
All-in-all, the trip took just of 7.5 hours. We were told 6, but the Americans I met in Phnom Penh said it took them 10.5 in the opposite direction. Overall, I am very glad I got to see these remote dwellings and experience the hidden aspects of Cambodia not seen from the standard bus route. This will truely be the Cambodia I remember.
I got a seat on the roof, which was nice because it was cloudy and not too hot. We took off... 12 or so on the roof, 25 + down on the inside... heading north with the river towards Siem Reap. We passed houses and shacks along te river in between the green trees leading into the river. Children would wave and yell "Hello" out of each group of structures. We occasionally met a boat in the middle to pick someone up or once for a boombox tied shut with a rag for a handle. There were schools and wats and small semblences of neigborhoods with people selling goods, boats for work and for trasport, wood collectors, motor bikes and bicycles. The part took 1.5-2 hours.
The river narrowed and began tomeander with sharp curves. The landscape turned to marshland with tall dried reeds, heavy bushes and plants, and rice fields in the distance. We got stuck at thin stretch about 3 feet wider than the boat on each side. Pieces of wood and debris got caught up and we hit bottom. The skilled boatmen pushed us free in about 10 minutes. Shortly after we had to stop again for a group of cows, 7-9, walked into the river, got caught in the current, and were swimming down stream from side-to-side. Eventually, with much use of the horn, they managed to stay on one side, just long enough for us to pass. The rier widended a bit and we had to play bumper boats at each corner. We'd get as close as we could to the inside corner, slow down, and honk the horn like mad. The boat man at the front would use the pole to stop of from running into te brush on the opposite river bank. We'd push off backwards, gently spin into the right direction, the motor would start up again, and we'd be back down the river. This system worked great except for when a turn would coinside with oncoming boat traffic. At one such turn, we could not hug the inside corrner as planned. We had to cut our engine, as not to hit the oncoming boats. We then drifted quite quickly into the jungle brush on the opposite bank. I was standing during the crash, and fell to my knees to grab my bag. At the site of impact, there were scratches and stunned looks. The boatmen did not even srug and continued on our journey.
Finally the river began to widen and become more poulated. Now there were patches of floating stuctures tied togther or to land. Not quite boats/not quite house shaped. We docked at a "convienence" store, this floating groups version of 7-11 for a 10 minute break. The locals piled onto the deck and quickly got a bowl of local fare: glass noodles and a watery meal/vegetable-like broth. The forigers bought platic sealed breads and water. I thought I was getting a local packaged iced tea... but it turned out to be an Asian (not sure which country) version of take-away Red Bull. I had to pour most of it into the river. I sat on the top with th locals and they quickly chowed down their food. Cell service was very good, as a few chatted on the phone, no doubtedly telling friends when the boat was expected down the river.
We took off, only halfway finished with our journey. The river widened some more, and sparatic housing groups of 3-9 would pop up on each side of the river. On top of fishing, I learned that the people grow green leafy vegetables on the river. By this, I mean they use bamboo to mark off the edges of their garden, and grow plants whoose roots form in the water. Besides making the initial stucture and planting, these gardens require no work. We continued to stop sparaticaly to let people off on awaiting boats, or occasionally, if none came out to meet us, we would dock just long enough for a Cambodian to hop onto a structure. It was us to them to find a way to get to the shack they wanted, as going onto the land was rarely an option.
Eventually, we came to the great lake in the middle of Cambodia: Tonle Sap. I knew we had to cross to the northern side to dock at Siem Reap. The lake was massive and brown, desolate, dreary, and baking in the sun. It took 45 minutes of eager waiting to get to the other side. Many of us fell asleep during the previous portion, and I had awoke to a bad sunburn on my lower shins. Dispite my eforts of sublock and bug repellant, I could not excape the forces of nature.
A last, our crossing was over, and we had to make way us a tiny channel through the Floating Village of Phnom Krom. This was an extensive group of houses, boats, shelters, and buildings where people lived along the river. We passed a floating school, filled of children reciting chants, some running outside to watch the boats (what kind of classoom management is that, I wondered). Next came their floating playground yard: a flat strcture with volleyball net and court painted on the floor, surround by chain link fense so no children would fall into the water. Every type of store or service could be found on at leas one of the boats. The true mysticism of this place is that is has a name, but not a location. As the water levels rise and fall through the wet and dry season, the village floats along the rivers and and aournd the edge of the lake.
All-in-all, the trip took just of 7.5 hours. We were told 6, but the Americans I met in Phnom Penh said it took them 10.5 in the opposite direction. Overall, I am very glad I got to see these remote dwellings and experience the hidden aspects of Cambodia not seen from the standard bus route. This will truely be the Cambodia I remember.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Cambodian Confidence
I have been in Phnom Penh for just over two days now. When I first arrived I was taken aback at how uneasy I felt. On the drive into town from the airport, the level of poverty was much more than I expected. For the first time, I quickly lied when asked the question "Where is your husband?" Usually I say I am single and discuss briefly how strange it is for a woman to be traveling alone or not married at all. But on Tuesday morning, all I could think was... you better not think I am alone.
I was shone my room upon arrival and it has a "view of the river"! It also has a view of the 10 moto drivers and 8 tuk-tuk drivers that sit around all day looking for customers to drive around the city. I did not feel that comfortable. I promptly fell asleep (it was about 9:45 am) and slept until 7 pm. The jet lag had finnaly gotten to me upon arrival at my destination. That and I was unsure if I even wanted to venture outside. I manage to stir up enough courage to make it one block down the street and eat dinner. I came back, completed some emails at my hotel, and then had a drink at the restaurant adjacent to my hotel. I think my go anywhere"" attitude got stopped at the boarder and was still awaiting a visa and a clear customs check. I decided to sleep it off, keep reading about the city, and in the light of day (if I could get up) things should be looking better.
Well, on Wednesday morning things started to feel more comfortable. I did a short run along the river to get my bearings in the other direction. I ventured 3 blocks to breakfast, through a local market to a charity gift shop. I negotiated a moto ride to a different part of town to try and meet up with a girl I had met in Bangkok. By the end of the day I was haggling in markets, refusing rides that were too expensive, and back on track to see what I had come to Phnom Penh to see.
Today was much of the same. The moto drivers outside my hotel listen the first time I say no, and only 50% ask me after they here my first no. (Although they think I am a bit crazy always running, walking, and looking for no assistance of theirs). I can finagle my way to different parts of town and find alternate routes back. I found REALLY cheap overseas calls and refused expensive ones many times. I chatted with a local who runs and open reading room and does read alouds for local children. I even bought a bus ticket out of town for tomarrow, as I feel that I have conquored the capital of Cambodia and am ready to move on to something new!
Monday, July 2, 2007
A Tale of Two Cities
The first think I need to point out is that I am in Bangkok and cannot for the life of me figure out how to get blogger.com to appear in English. I have tried on multiple computers, but it just won't happen. SO, I am actually do this post blind.
My trip began about 2 days ago in LA. It was Saturday at noon when Rebecca picked me up for the airport. My flight took off exactly 48 hours ago. For me, it is actually Tuesday the 3rd at 5:30 a.m. I have been through immigration in 2 countries, spent less than 14 hours in each, and am about to get on another plane heading for a new country.
About 11 hours after I left LA, I landed at Narita airport outside Tokyo Japan. It was about 6 pm local time, but did not make it to a hotel shuttle until 7:15. It was a quite, dark ride and I was exhausted. I settled into my room by 7:50 and could barely stay awake for 30 minutes. I got a good night sleep, spent 2200 yen on breakfast (which I think is at least $15), took the bus back to the airport and prepared to head for Thailand. The drive was green and it was clear I was in a town like setting in the midst of the countryside. Maybe that's what my dad meant when he said "Urban Sprawl"?? Japan was clean (accept in front of the airport- it reminded me of LAX), organized, very efficient, and quite modern. My 14 hour lay-over was actually quite pleasant. The plane was empty and I had a very nice flight to Bangkok.
I flew into the new airport in bangkok and it was immense and new. However it took me an hour to clear customs. I guess that part isn't so efficient yet. I took the bus into the city and headed for KhoSan Road- Backpacker central. This visit began much better than my last 2 years ago and I really felt like I knew where I was going and what I was doing. I did some "window" shopping, had a beer during a down pour, and met a few fellow American women travelers at dinner. Couldn't find my hostel in the rain for the 2nd time in Thailand. The evening was... well... lets just say you've never been to Bangkok until you see the locals throw out a guy from a bar and beat the crap out of him. Sleeping didn't go so well after that. I woke very early, yet again, and shared a ride to the airport. I am actually quite glad to be leaving Bangkok. It is just how I remember it: smelly, humidity, dirty, and you don't know who to trust.
I am flying to Phnom Penh in just a bit and I am quite happy that I only spent the $40 dollars I changed into baht.
My trip began about 2 days ago in LA. It was Saturday at noon when Rebecca picked me up for the airport. My flight took off exactly 48 hours ago. For me, it is actually Tuesday the 3rd at 5:30 a.m. I have been through immigration in 2 countries, spent less than 14 hours in each, and am about to get on another plane heading for a new country.
About 11 hours after I left LA, I landed at Narita airport outside Tokyo Japan. It was about 6 pm local time, but did not make it to a hotel shuttle until 7:15. It was a quite, dark ride and I was exhausted. I settled into my room by 7:50 and could barely stay awake for 30 minutes. I got a good night sleep, spent 2200 yen on breakfast (which I think is at least $15), took the bus back to the airport and prepared to head for Thailand. The drive was green and it was clear I was in a town like setting in the midst of the countryside. Maybe that's what my dad meant when he said "Urban Sprawl"?? Japan was clean (accept in front of the airport- it reminded me of LAX), organized, very efficient, and quite modern. My 14 hour lay-over was actually quite pleasant. The plane was empty and I had a very nice flight to Bangkok.
I flew into the new airport in bangkok and it was immense and new. However it took me an hour to clear customs. I guess that part isn't so efficient yet. I took the bus into the city and headed for KhoSan Road- Backpacker central. This visit began much better than my last 2 years ago and I really felt like I knew where I was going and what I was doing. I did some "window" shopping, had a beer during a down pour, and met a few fellow American women travelers at dinner. Couldn't find my hostel in the rain for the 2nd time in Thailand. The evening was... well... lets just say you've never been to Bangkok until you see the locals throw out a guy from a bar and beat the crap out of him. Sleeping didn't go so well after that. I woke very early, yet again, and shared a ride to the airport. I am actually quite glad to be leaving Bangkok. It is just how I remember it: smelly, humidity, dirty, and you don't know who to trust.
I am flying to Phnom Penh in just a bit and I am quite happy that I only spent the $40 dollars I changed into baht.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Seal Beach: The Beginning
As I collect the plethora of blue and red "to go" cups from around the living room, the magnitudue of my upcoming adventure grows much more real. It seems like any other morning when I wake up from having a party at 211 11th. Cups everywhere, slimey used dixie cups in, on, and under everything, an empty guacamole bowl, beer cans in the bathroom, CDs strewn about, missing cell phones, wet patches on the floor....
But today is different. There is an email list on my desk. There is a pile of clothes and diving gear piled neatly on my floor waiting to be put in a backpack. There are confirmation numbers written on many scraps of paper. There are Ipod and camera batteries charging. There is a sense of excitement, independence, and adventure all controlled by a powerfully, overwhelming feeling of uncertainty.
I have a "ruff draft" of a plan for the next few weeks. But one might recall from last July, that never really works out. So the current theory states that I am heading to Cambodia. I will leave today and arrive in Phnom Penh (the capital of Cambodia) on the morning of July 3. Oh yeah... minor stops in Bangkok and Japan- just to get off the plane, go through customs, get a stamp in my passport, drink some local brew, sleep, and pay an airport departure tax.
My blogging capabilities have already improved since 2006. As you see, I have pictures and visual aides. I have a small semblance of an idea as to what I am doing. I do know that I will miss the comforts of home, but relish, soak-up, and immerse myself in the places and cultures I am visiting. I will do my best to share my discoveries as I meander through Southeast Asia. Maybe I will find what I am looking for, or maybe I will just have fun looking.
But today is different. There is an email list on my desk. There is a pile of clothes and diving gear piled neatly on my floor waiting to be put in a backpack. There are confirmation numbers written on many scraps of paper. There are Ipod and camera batteries charging. There is a sense of excitement, independence, and adventure all controlled by a powerfully, overwhelming feeling of uncertainty.
I have a "ruff draft" of a plan for the next few weeks. But one might recall from last July, that never really works out. So the current theory states that I am heading to Cambodia. I will leave today and arrive in Phnom Penh (the capital of Cambodia) on the morning of July 3. Oh yeah... minor stops in Bangkok and Japan- just to get off the plane, go through customs, get a stamp in my passport, drink some local brew, sleep, and pay an airport departure tax.
My blogging capabilities have already improved since 2006. As you see, I have pictures and visual aides. I have a small semblance of an idea as to what I am doing. I do know that I will miss the comforts of home, but relish, soak-up, and immerse myself in the places and cultures I am visiting. I will do my best to share my discoveries as I meander through Southeast Asia. Maybe I will find what I am looking for, or maybe I will just have fun looking.
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