Where do I put my pee bucket?

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

Travel, travel, travel

     Oh my how long it's been. My apologies to anyone who has missed my ramblings and musings over the past year. However, in my defense things have been crazy here as my last full semester of school comes to a close. I've been chasing any and every job that remotely interests me; not to mention the several side projects I have going on. With all of that being said all of my ass-kickingly hard work is slowly starting to pay off. I'm not going to go into too much detail, but it has kept me from updating my personal blog. Although I must admit, it lacks a certain flair without me reporting on my travels.

     Fear not, I will be embarking on a 6 week trip back to my current obsession: South East Asia. Tickets are booked, my passport has been sent out (I ran out of pages plus it's due to expire soon), and I've started getting my research on in my free time. The pre-planned (and likely to change) route after the break.

     Oh my how long it's been. My apologies to anyone who has missed my ramblings and musings over the past year. However, in my defense things have been crazy here as my last full semester of school comes to a close. I've been chasing any and every job that remotely interests me; not to mention the several side projects I have going on. With all of that being said all of my ass-kickingly hard work is slowly starting to pay off. I'm not going to go into too much detail, but it has kept me from updating my personal blog. Although I must admit, it lacks a certain flair without me reporting on my travels.

     Fear not, I will be embarking on a 6 week trip back to my current obsession: South East Asia. Tickets are booked, my passport has been sent out (I ran out of pages plus it's due to expire soon), and I've started getting my research on in my free time. The pre-planned (and likely to change) route after the break.

     Oh my how long it's been. My apologies to anyone who has missed my ramblings and musings over the past year. However, in my defense things have been crazy here as my last full semester of school comes to a close. I've been chasing any and every job that remotely interests me; not to mention the several side projects I have going on. With all of that being said all of my ass-kickingly hard work is slowly starting to pay off. I'm not going to go into too much detail, but it has kept me from updating my personal blog. Although I must admit, it lacks a certain flair without me reporting on my travels.

     Fear not, I will be embarking on a 6 week trip back to my current obsession: South East Asia. Tickets are booked, my passport has been sent out (I ran out of pages plus it's due to expire soon), and I've started getting my research on in my free time. The pre-planned (and likely to change) route after the break.

     Oh my how long it's been. My apologies to anyone who has missed my ramblings and musings over the past year. However, in my defense things have been crazy here as my last full semester of school comes to a close. I've been chasing any and every job that remotely interests me; not to mention the several side projects I have going on. With all of that being said all of my ass-kickingly hard work is slowly starting to pay off. I'm not going to go into too much detail, but it has kept me from updating my personal blog. Although I must admit, it lacks a certain flair without me reporting on my travels.

     Fear not, I will be embarking on a 6 week trip back to my current obsession: South East Asia. Tickets are booked, my passport has been sent out (I ran out of pages plus it's due to expire soon), and I've started getting my research on in my free time. The pre-planned (and likely to change) route after the break.

Untitleable

View near The Project

     Where do I begin? How do I begin? How do you describe a place that is so small yet so powerful? A place that is full of tourist traps - 'Yes, yes taxi miss?' No thank you, can't you see I'm carrying a bike helmut? - yet make one, maybe two turns off the orang putih bus route and you are greeted with warm hellos, private ceremonies, and there isn't a tourist in sight (most times not even an expat).

Happy family

     In a way, Bali is like a Mobius, endless surface area within a finite space containing as much discovery as mystery.

    I still struggle to describe, much less sum up, my experience in Bali. I am forever grateful for those who opened their home to me, but that doesn't even scratch the surface of the great advice, and warm, open hearts I found. Perhaps I'm not supposed to spell it out. It was simply one of those things you just had to be there for.

     If you were to ask me in my late-teens where (other than the US) I would want to live I would have said Switzerland. A few years ago I would have told you Denmark. You ask me at this very moment, I would say Indonesia. It is safe to say that I will be back. Like most places I visit,  I left a piece of my heart behind, there are few pieces big enough to go back for; not just for a second visit, but for something more.

This is where we cook

     Personal feelings aside, there are some cultural notes worth mentioning:

This is where we drive

     For starters, you really have to admire the Balinese people. They've managed to keep out Muslim forces for centuries as well as avoid massive colonization by the Dutch. Aside from the south (Denpasar and Kota; which are mainly occupied by the Javanese, Russians, and some Chinese) they have done a good job at keeping their identity amongst a world with an increasing desire to join the homogenous virus of Western culture. I will, of course, save you all from yet another tirade by not elaborating any further. As far as, what I like to call 'tourist colonization' goes, they have done their best. They keep tourists mostly to a few distinct routes and they haven't let touristic development turn the place into Disneyland. Yes, you can see mock dances and the like, but at the same time, the people actually still do those dances at the appropriate times, with or without tourism. They bless and give offerings to everything, regardless if the tourist bus is passing by (you see it in remote villages). Furthermore, selling your land is considered dis-honorable, so family land is either leased out or does not have a price. These aspects are key to keeping 'culture rape' at bay.

The Project: one of the shrines

     Does the place need improvement in sustainable practices? Yes, but it fares better than most. Is it too late? Absolutely not.

This is how I felt

     Aside from being able to somewhat understand the 'interesting' tidbits that guys have to say about non-native girls (me included...don't kid yourselves fellas) standing right in front of them at the bars, knowing a respectable amount of Malaysian came in handy here. English is harder to come by and for those of you not in the know, Indonesian is the same as Malaysian with the exception of a few words and phrases. After all, back in the day, they were the same country.

     One difference I found amusing is the use of the word 'hati.' Instead of 'awas' (meaning caution) Indonesians use hati-hati. Directly translated, this means 'livers.' Yes, you read correctly, 'livers.' Signs literally read: 'Livers! Hole in ground.' I'm not quite sure why or how this became the word du jour, but it is. If you take the translation one step further, in a cultural context, it still makes little sense. Hati becomes heart. So if you say 'he has a good heart' (dia ada hati bagus) you are literally saying, 'he has a good liver' but it means the same thing. So I suspect the sign could read as: 'Hearts! Hole in ground' which sounds something you would see in a tween SMS message but whatever.

Meet Neffs

     Lastly, shops in Bali are often named with Hindu deities. My favorite shop name that I came across was Krisna Cargo. This is both simple and creative advertising if you ask me.

Working by the sea

     Anyways, this mad sailor needs some rest. I'm sakit (sick)...again...however I'm going to pound some vitamin C and Afrika bush tea and pray it goes away. I'm not spending my last (lucky) 13 days down and out.

This is where I slept

-M

View near The Project

     Where do I begin? How do I begin? How do you describe a place that is so small yet so powerful? A place that is full of tourist traps - 'Yes, yes taxi miss?' No thank you, can't you see I'm carrying a bike helmut? - yet make one, maybe two turns off the orang putih bus route and you are greeted with warm hellos, private ceremonies, and there isn't a tourist in sight (most times not even an expat).

Happy family

     In a way, Bali is like a Mobius, endless surface area within a finite space containing as much discovery as mystery.

    I still struggle to describe, much less sum up, my experience in Bali. I am forever grateful for those who opened their home to me, but that doesn't even scratch the surface of the great advice, and warm, open hearts I found. Perhaps I'm not supposed to spell it out. It was simply one of those things you just had to be there for.

     If you were to ask me in my late-teens where (other than the US) I would want to live I would have said Switzerland. A few years ago I would have told you Denmark. You ask me at this very moment, I would say Indonesia. It is safe to say that I will be back. Like most places I visit,  I left a piece of my heart behind, there are few pieces big enough to go back for; not just for a second visit, but for something more.

This is where we cook

     Personal feelings aside, there are some cultural notes worth mentioning:

This is where we drive

     For starters, you really have to admire the Balinese people. They've managed to keep out Muslim forces for centuries as well as avoid massive colonization by the Dutch. Aside from the south (Denpasar and Kota; which are mainly occupied by the Javanese, Russians, and some Chinese) they have done a good job at keeping their identity amongst a world with an increasing desire to join the homogenous virus of Western culture. I will, of course, save you all from yet another tirade by not elaborating any further. As far as, what I like to call 'tourist colonization' goes, they have done their best. They keep tourists mostly to a few distinct routes and they haven't let touristic development turn the place into Disneyland. Yes, you can see mock dances and the like, but at the same time, the people actually still do those dances at the appropriate times, with or without tourism. They bless and give offerings to everything, regardless if the tourist bus is passing by (you see it in remote villages). Furthermore, selling your land is considered dis-honorable, so family land is either leased out or does not have a price. These aspects are key to keeping 'culture rape' at bay.

The Project: one of the shrines

     Does the place need improvement in sustainable practices? Yes, but it fares better than most. Is it too late? Absolutely not.

This is how I felt

     Aside from being able to somewhat understand the 'interesting' tidbits that guys have to say about non-native girls (me included...don't kid yourselves fellas) standing right in front of them at the bars, knowing a respectable amount of Malaysian came in handy here. English is harder to come by and for those of you not in the know, Indonesian is the same as Malaysian with the exception of a few words and phrases. After all, back in the day, they were the same country.

     One difference I found amusing is the use of the word 'hati.' Instead of 'awas' (meaning caution) Indonesians use hati-hati. Directly translated, this means 'livers.' Yes, you read correctly, 'livers.' Signs literally read: 'Livers! Hole in ground.' I'm not quite sure why or how this became the word du jour, but it is. If you take the translation one step further, in a cultural context, it still makes little sense. Hati becomes heart. So if you say 'he has a good heart' (dia ada hati bagus) you are literally saying, 'he has a good liver' but it means the same thing. So I suspect the sign could read as: 'Hearts! Hole in ground' which sounds something you would see in a tween SMS message but whatever.

Meet Neffs

     Lastly, shops in Bali are often named with Hindu deities. My favorite shop name that I came across was Krisna Cargo. This is both simple and creative advertising if you ask me.

Working by the sea

     Anyways, this mad sailor needs some rest. I'm sakit (sick)...again...however I'm going to pound some vitamin C and Afrika bush tea and pray it goes away. I'm not spending my last (lucky) 13 days down and out.

This is where I slept

-M

View near The Project

     Where do I begin? How do I begin? How do you describe a place that is so small yet so powerful? A place that is full of tourist traps - 'Yes, yes taxi miss?' No thank you, can't you see I'm carrying a bike helmut? - yet make one, maybe two turns off the orang putih bus route and you are greeted with warm hellos, private ceremonies, and there isn't a tourist in sight (most times not even an expat).

Happy family

     In a way, Bali is like a Mobius, endless surface area within a finite space containing as much discovery as mystery.

    I still struggle to describe, much less sum up, my experience in Bali. I am forever grateful for those who opened their home to me, but that doesn't even scratch the surface of the great advice, and warm, open hearts I found. Perhaps I'm not supposed to spell it out. It was simply one of those things you just had to be there for.

     If you were to ask me in my late-teens where (other than the US) I would want to live I would have said Switzerland. A few years ago I would have told you Denmark. You ask me at this very moment, I would say Indonesia. It is safe to say that I will be back. Like most places I visit,  I left a piece of my heart behind, there are few pieces big enough to go back for; not just for a second visit, but for something more.

This is where we cook

     Personal feelings aside, there are some cultural notes worth mentioning:

This is where we drive

     For starters, you really have to admire the Balinese people. They've managed to keep out Muslim forces for centuries as well as avoid massive colonization by the Dutch. Aside from the south (Denpasar and Kota; which are mainly occupied by the Javanese, Russians, and some Chinese) they have done a good job at keeping their identity amongst a world with an increasing desire to join the homogenous virus of Western culture. I will, of course, save you all from yet another tirade by not elaborating any further. As far as, what I like to call 'tourist colonization' goes, they have done their best. They keep tourists mostly to a few distinct routes and they haven't let touristic development turn the place into Disneyland. Yes, you can see mock dances and the like, but at the same time, the people actually still do those dances at the appropriate times, with or without tourism. They bless and give offerings to everything, regardless if the tourist bus is passing by (you see it in remote villages). Furthermore, selling your land is considered dis-honorable, so family land is either leased out or does not have a price. These aspects are key to keeping 'culture rape' at bay.

The Project: one of the shrines

     Does the place need improvement in sustainable practices? Yes, but it fares better than most. Is it too late? Absolutely not.

This is how I felt

     Aside from being able to somewhat understand the 'interesting' tidbits that guys have to say about non-native girls (me included...don't kid yourselves fellas) standing right in front of them at the bars, knowing a respectable amount of Malaysian came in handy here. English is harder to come by and for those of you not in the know, Indonesian is the same as Malaysian with the exception of a few words and phrases. After all, back in the day, they were the same country.

     One difference I found amusing is the use of the word 'hati.' Instead of 'awas' (meaning caution) Indonesians use hati-hati. Directly translated, this means 'livers.' Yes, you read correctly, 'livers.' Signs literally read: 'Livers! Hole in ground.' I'm not quite sure why or how this became the word du jour, but it is. If you take the translation one step further, in a cultural context, it still makes little sense. Hati becomes heart. So if you say 'he has a good heart' (dia ada hati bagus) you are literally saying, 'he has a good liver' but it means the same thing. So I suspect the sign could read as: 'Hearts! Hole in ground' which sounds something you would see in a tween SMS message but whatever.

Meet Neffs

     Lastly, shops in Bali are often named with Hindu deities. My favorite shop name that I came across was Krisna Cargo. This is both simple and creative advertising if you ask me.

Working by the sea

     Anyways, this mad sailor needs some rest. I'm sakit (sick)...again...however I'm going to pound some vitamin C and Afrika bush tea and pray it goes away. I'm not spending my last (lucky) 13 days down and out.

This is where I slept

-M

View near The Project

     Where do I begin? How do I begin? How do you describe a place that is so small yet so powerful? A place that is full of tourist traps - 'Yes, yes taxi miss?' No thank you, can't you see I'm carrying a bike helmut? - yet make one, maybe two turns off the orang putih bus route and you are greeted with warm hellos, private ceremonies, and there isn't a tourist in sight (most times not even an expat).

Happy family

     In a way, Bali is like a Mobius, endless surface area within a finite space containing as much discovery as mystery.

    I still struggle to describe, much less sum up, my experience in Bali. I am forever grateful for those who opened their home to me, but that doesn't even scratch the surface of the great advice, and warm, open hearts I found. Perhaps I'm not supposed to spell it out. It was simply one of those things you just had to be there for.

     If you were to ask me in my late-teens where (other than the US) I would want to live I would have said Switzerland. A few years ago I would have told you Denmark. You ask me at this very moment, I would say Indonesia. It is safe to say that I will be back. Like most places I visit,  I left a piece of my heart behind, there are few pieces big enough to go back for; not just for a second visit, but for something more.

This is where we cook

     Personal feelings aside, there are some cultural notes worth mentioning:

This is where we drive

     For starters, you really have to admire the Balinese people. They've managed to keep out Muslim forces for centuries as well as avoid massive colonization by the Dutch. Aside from the south (Denpasar and Kota; which are mainly occupied by the Javanese, Russians, and some Chinese) they have done a good job at keeping their identity amongst a world with an increasing desire to join the homogenous virus of Western culture. I will, of course, save you all from yet another tirade by not elaborating any further. As far as, what I like to call 'tourist colonization' goes, they have done their best. They keep tourists mostly to a few distinct routes and they haven't let touristic development turn the place into Disneyland. Yes, you can see mock dances and the like, but at the same time, the people actually still do those dances at the appropriate times, with or without tourism. They bless and give offerings to everything, regardless if the tourist bus is passing by (you see it in remote villages). Furthermore, selling your land is considered dis-honorable, so family land is either leased out or does not have a price. These aspects are key to keeping 'culture rape' at bay.

The Project: one of the shrines

     Does the place need improvement in sustainable practices? Yes, but it fares better than most. Is it too late? Absolutely not.

This is how I felt

     Aside from being able to somewhat understand the 'interesting' tidbits that guys have to say about non-native girls (me included...don't kid yourselves fellas) standing right in front of them at the bars, knowing a respectable amount of Malaysian came in handy here. English is harder to come by and for those of you not in the know, Indonesian is the same as Malaysian with the exception of a few words and phrases. After all, back in the day, they were the same country.

     One difference I found amusing is the use of the word 'hati.' Instead of 'awas' (meaning caution) Indonesians use hati-hati. Directly translated, this means 'livers.' Yes, you read correctly, 'livers.' Signs literally read: 'Livers! Hole in ground.' I'm not quite sure why or how this became the word du jour, but it is. If you take the translation one step further, in a cultural context, it still makes little sense. Hati becomes heart. So if you say 'he has a good heart' (dia ada hati bagus) you are literally saying, 'he has a good liver' but it means the same thing. So I suspect the sign could read as: 'Hearts! Hole in ground' which sounds something you would see in a tween SMS message but whatever.

Meet Neffs

     Lastly, shops in Bali are often named with Hindu deities. My favorite shop name that I came across was Krisna Cargo. This is both simple and creative advertising if you ask me.

Working by the sea

     Anyways, this mad sailor needs some rest. I'm sakit (sick)...again...however I'm going to pound some vitamin C and Afrika bush tea and pray it goes away. I'm not spending my last (lucky) 13 days down and out.

This is where I slept

-M

You only feel your feet when they touch the ground... -Buddha

Dear Mom and Dad (and anyone else who gives a damn),

     I was supposed to be back in KL yesterday, however getting on that 6am flight didn't feel like the right thing to do, so I slept in.

     The Bali you told me about is quite different than the Bali I found here. The Bali you spoke of is the cluster fuck of tourists. I managed to get through a half of a day of that madness before I retreated back into the hills. It really is a shame; you don't have to go far to find what I've found. If only you had pushed your big toe a little deeper into the oncoming surf...

     A part of me would love to write about what I've done and seen; the usual play-by-play of my time here. However, that is really all too superficial and trivial in the grand scheme of things. Needless to say there probably are a few things I should explain.

     For starters, yes that is a cow bone in my ear. Did I ever think that those combination of words would ever come out of my mouth or onto digital paper? No. In fact, seeing those words on paper reminds me of the time I called MB out of the apartment in Cambridge (Mass) just so I could say 'There is a wild turkey in the playground.' Anyways, I digress, the reason for the bone is simple. I lost my earring, they make bone earrings here. So in order for it not to close up this is my 30 cent replacement. It's sterile, don't panic, and I bought a bunch before I left for SEA so I see no need to buy more here as money is running low.

     The first thing Indonesia taught me upon arrival in Jakarta is that the motorbike is your most efficient form of transport. Thus, I borrowed one. Don't fret Mom, I wear a helmut. I've been on roads so steep, narrow, and pothole ridden that it makes Bryce Canyon look like the 80 (or is it 90?) in Kansas. I'm fine on the bike, I've ridden on a Mexican highway mind you. It's the whole getting out of a parking area and avoiding the throttle that gave me some trouble the first few days. My right knee has had the embarrassing pleasure of being introduced to both the side view mirror and the asphalt. I can safely say that picking shards of mirror out of your leg is not pleasant, but neither is mouth surgery in high altitude. In other words, it could be worse.

     The morning joy ride has become a routine of mine. You get a lot of great thinking done winding around on streets where upkeep, lanes, hell even the direction of traffic (on the left here) is a mere suggestion. I've seen kids whose feet hardly touch the ground ride around here. My advice? Go at a speed you are comfortable with, use your horn, and don't drive like an ass.

     I enjoy being 'off-th-grid'; even though there is a grid around (clearly...I'm on it). Only a select lucky few have my local number and most live or stay here. Although I enjoyed the brief phase that I'll refer to as 'Adventures on Star Hill' back in KL; it is great to see that SEA has so much more to offer the expat community. Will I return to write the ending segment of my Star Hill chapter? Perhaps, it is KL after all...

     I've climbed up waterfalls in caves that only a handful of people on this Earth know exist. I cook by fire at night and fall asleep to the familiar orchestra of the rainforest at night. I'm finding that I get the same feeling in the rain forests as I do in the high country. I haven't yet been able to find the proper language to describe it, but when I do you'll be the first to know.

     Mom, Dad, I know you've always taught me to reach for the stars. However, the older I get and the more I see I'm coming to realise I prefer to grab ahold of the Earth. You know, the large ball of life and death we seem to take for granted. The sky is nice to look at but the soil is all we have. The mundane has the power to produce beauty beyond description.

Signed with love,

-M

Dear Mom and Dad (and anyone else who gives a damn),

     I was supposed to be back in KL yesterday, however getting on that 6am flight didn't feel like the right thing to do, so I slept in.

     The Bali you told me about is quite different than the Bali I found here. The Bali you spoke of is the cluster fuck of tourists. I managed to get through a half of a day of that madness before I retreated back into the hills. It really is a shame; you don't have to go far to find what I've found. If only you had pushed your big toe a little deeper into the oncoming surf...

     A part of me would love to write about what I've done and seen; the usual play-by-play of my time here. However, that is really all too superficial and trivial in the grand scheme of things. Needless to say there probably are a few things I should explain.

     For starters, yes that is a cow bone in my ear. Did I ever think that those combination of words would ever come out of my mouth or onto digital paper? No. In fact, seeing those words on paper reminds me of the time I called MB out of the apartment in Cambridge (Mass) just so I could say 'There is a wild turkey in the playground.' Anyways, I digress, the reason for the bone is simple. I lost my earring, they make bone earrings here. So in order for it not to close up this is my 30 cent replacement. It's sterile, don't panic, and I bought a bunch before I left for SEA so I see no need to buy more here as money is running low.

     The first thing Indonesia taught me upon arrival in Jakarta is that the motorbike is your most efficient form of transport. Thus, I borrowed one. Don't fret Mom, I wear a helmut. I've been on roads so steep, narrow, and pothole ridden that it makes Bryce Canyon look like the 80 (or is it 90?) in Kansas. I'm fine on the bike, I've ridden on a Mexican highway mind you. It's the whole getting out of a parking area and avoiding the throttle that gave me some trouble the first few days. My right knee has had the embarrassing pleasure of being introduced to both the side view mirror and the asphalt. I can safely say that picking shards of mirror out of your leg is not pleasant, but neither is mouth surgery in high altitude. In other words, it could be worse.

     The morning joy ride has become a routine of mine. You get a lot of great thinking done winding around on streets where upkeep, lanes, hell even the direction of traffic (on the left here) is a mere suggestion. I've seen kids whose feet hardly touch the ground ride around here. My advice? Go at a speed you are comfortable with, use your horn, and don't drive like an ass.

     I enjoy being 'off-th-grid'; even though there is a grid around (clearly...I'm on it). Only a select lucky few have my local number and most live or stay here. Although I enjoyed the brief phase that I'll refer to as 'Adventures on Star Hill' back in KL; it is great to see that SEA has so much more to offer the expat community. Will I return to write the ending segment of my Star Hill chapter? Perhaps, it is KL after all...

     I've climbed up waterfalls in caves that only a handful of people on this Earth know exist. I cook by fire at night and fall asleep to the familiar orchestra of the rainforest at night. I'm finding that I get the same feeling in the rain forests as I do in the high country. I haven't yet been able to find the proper language to describe it, but when I do you'll be the first to know.

     Mom, Dad, I know you've always taught me to reach for the stars. However, the older I get and the more I see I'm coming to realise I prefer to grab ahold of the Earth. You know, the large ball of life and death we seem to take for granted. The sky is nice to look at but the soil is all we have. The mundane has the power to produce beauty beyond description.

Signed with love,

-M

Dear Mom and Dad (and anyone else who gives a damn),

     I was supposed to be back in KL yesterday, however getting on that 6am flight didn't feel like the right thing to do, so I slept in.

     The Bali you told me about is quite different than the Bali I found here. The Bali you spoke of is the cluster fuck of tourists. I managed to get through a half of a day of that madness before I retreated back into the hills. It really is a shame; you don't have to go far to find what I've found. If only you had pushed your big toe a little deeper into the oncoming surf...

     A part of me would love to write about what I've done and seen; the usual play-by-play of my time here. However, that is really all too superficial and trivial in the grand scheme of things. Needless to say there probably are a few things I should explain.

     For starters, yes that is a cow bone in my ear. Did I ever think that those combination of words would ever come out of my mouth or onto digital paper? No. In fact, seeing those words on paper reminds me of the time I called MB out of the apartment in Cambridge (Mass) just so I could say 'There is a wild turkey in the playground.' Anyways, I digress, the reason for the bone is simple. I lost my earring, they make bone earrings here. So in order for it not to close up this is my 30 cent replacement. It's sterile, don't panic, and I bought a bunch before I left for SEA so I see no need to buy more here as money is running low.

     The first thing Indonesia taught me upon arrival in Jakarta is that the motorbike is your most efficient form of transport. Thus, I borrowed one. Don't fret Mom, I wear a helmut. I've been on roads so steep, narrow, and pothole ridden that it makes Bryce Canyon look like the 80 (or is it 90?) in Kansas. I'm fine on the bike, I've ridden on a Mexican highway mind you. It's the whole getting out of a parking area and avoiding the throttle that gave me some trouble the first few days. My right knee has had the embarrassing pleasure of being introduced to both the side view mirror and the asphalt. I can safely say that picking shards of mirror out of your leg is not pleasant, but neither is mouth surgery in high altitude. In other words, it could be worse.

     The morning joy ride has become a routine of mine. You get a lot of great thinking done winding around on streets where upkeep, lanes, hell even the direction of traffic (on the left here) is a mere suggestion. I've seen kids whose feet hardly touch the ground ride around here. My advice? Go at a speed you are comfortable with, use your horn, and don't drive like an ass.

     I enjoy being 'off-th-grid'; even though there is a grid around (clearly...I'm on it). Only a select lucky few have my local number and most live or stay here. Although I enjoyed the brief phase that I'll refer to as 'Adventures on Star Hill' back in KL; it is great to see that SEA has so much more to offer the expat community. Will I return to write the ending segment of my Star Hill chapter? Perhaps, it is KL after all...

     I've climbed up waterfalls in caves that only a handful of people on this Earth know exist. I cook by fire at night and fall asleep to the familiar orchestra of the rainforest at night. I'm finding that I get the same feeling in the rain forests as I do in the high country. I haven't yet been able to find the proper language to describe it, but when I do you'll be the first to know.

     Mom, Dad, I know you've always taught me to reach for the stars. However, the older I get and the more I see I'm coming to realise I prefer to grab ahold of the Earth. You know, the large ball of life and death we seem to take for granted. The sky is nice to look at but the soil is all we have. The mundane has the power to produce beauty beyond description.

Signed with love,

-M

Dear Mom and Dad (and anyone else who gives a damn),

     I was supposed to be back in KL yesterday, however getting on that 6am flight didn't feel like the right thing to do, so I slept in.

     The Bali you told me about is quite different than the Bali I found here. The Bali you spoke of is the cluster fuck of tourists. I managed to get through a half of a day of that madness before I retreated back into the hills. It really is a shame; you don't have to go far to find what I've found. If only you had pushed your big toe a little deeper into the oncoming surf...

     A part of me would love to write about what I've done and seen; the usual play-by-play of my time here. However, that is really all too superficial and trivial in the grand scheme of things. Needless to say there probably are a few things I should explain.

     For starters, yes that is a cow bone in my ear. Did I ever think that those combination of words would ever come out of my mouth or onto digital paper? No. In fact, seeing those words on paper reminds me of the time I called MB out of the apartment in Cambridge (Mass) just so I could say 'There is a wild turkey in the playground.' Anyways, I digress, the reason for the bone is simple. I lost my earring, they make bone earrings here. So in order for it not to close up this is my 30 cent replacement. It's sterile, don't panic, and I bought a bunch before I left for SEA so I see no need to buy more here as money is running low.

     The first thing Indonesia taught me upon arrival in Jakarta is that the motorbike is your most efficient form of transport. Thus, I borrowed one. Don't fret Mom, I wear a helmut. I've been on roads so steep, narrow, and pothole ridden that it makes Bryce Canyon look like the 80 (or is it 90?) in Kansas. I'm fine on the bike, I've ridden on a Mexican highway mind you. It's the whole getting out of a parking area and avoiding the throttle that gave me some trouble the first few days. My right knee has had the embarrassing pleasure of being introduced to both the side view mirror and the asphalt. I can safely say that picking shards of mirror out of your leg is not pleasant, but neither is mouth surgery in high altitude. In other words, it could be worse.

     The morning joy ride has become a routine of mine. You get a lot of great thinking done winding around on streets where upkeep, lanes, hell even the direction of traffic (on the left here) is a mere suggestion. I've seen kids whose feet hardly touch the ground ride around here. My advice? Go at a speed you are comfortable with, use your horn, and don't drive like an ass.

     I enjoy being 'off-th-grid'; even though there is a grid around (clearly...I'm on it). Only a select lucky few have my local number and most live or stay here. Although I enjoyed the brief phase that I'll refer to as 'Adventures on Star Hill' back in KL; it is great to see that SEA has so much more to offer the expat community. Will I return to write the ending segment of my Star Hill chapter? Perhaps, it is KL after all...

     I've climbed up waterfalls in caves that only a handful of people on this Earth know exist. I cook by fire at night and fall asleep to the familiar orchestra of the rainforest at night. I'm finding that I get the same feeling in the rain forests as I do in the high country. I haven't yet been able to find the proper language to describe it, but when I do you'll be the first to know.

     Mom, Dad, I know you've always taught me to reach for the stars. However, the older I get and the more I see I'm coming to realise I prefer to grab ahold of the Earth. You know, the large ball of life and death we seem to take for granted. The sky is nice to look at but the soil is all we have. The mundane has the power to produce beauty beyond description.

Signed with love,

-M