Don't underestimate the things that I might do

     Goodbyes, for lack of a better word, suck. They don't just suck, but I am epically horrible at them. I am not only incapable of doing a goodbye justice, but I feel as if I am in limbo. In limbo to say hello again. Not simply to the people I am leaving behind (365 days...more or less), but to the people I have left behind (enam hari hari...er I don't understand this time change thing, so more or less).

     No one said the life of a vagrant was easy (it's not). I may never get it right. I've had to say too many goodbyes in the past 48 hours and not enough hellos. The hellos I have been able to say always end with a 'Goodbye, I'm sorry we didn't have more time, if you are ever in the US please let me know.' I can say I will be back in a year all day long, but no one will believe me until that (as of now) unaffordable ticket is booked again.

     Arriving at home has begun to settle in. I miss my home...terribly. Leaving my home away from home is being slapped across my face. There are some people I almost refuse to say 'bye' to; because it is just too freakin' hard. I wish I had something more profound, or even more positive to say, but I don't. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. C'est la vie et c'est ma vie.

     Of course, if I could do it all over again I would, every G-damned minute. But fuck, I will miss you guys, and 'fouk' I miss you guys.

-M

     Goodbyes, for lack of a better word, suck. They don't just suck, but I am epically horrible at them. I am not only incapable of doing a goodbye justice, but I feel as if I am in limbo. In limbo to say hello again. Not simply to the people I am leaving behind (365 days...more or less), but to the people I have left behind (enam hari hari...er I don't understand this time change thing, so more or less).

     No one said the life of a vagrant was easy (it's not). I may never get it right. I've had to say too many goodbyes in the past 48 hours and not enough hellos. The hellos I have been able to say always end with a 'Goodbye, I'm sorry we didn't have more time, if you are ever in the US please let me know.' I can say I will be back in a year all day long, but no one will believe me until that (as of now) unaffordable ticket is booked again.

     Arriving at home has begun to settle in. I miss my home...terribly. Leaving my home away from home is being slapped across my face. There are some people I almost refuse to say 'bye' to; because it is just too freakin' hard. I wish I had something more profound, or even more positive to say, but I don't. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. C'est la vie et c'est ma vie.

     Of course, if I could do it all over again I would, every G-damned minute. But fuck, I will miss you guys, and 'fouk' I miss you guys.

-M

     Goodbyes, for lack of a better word, suck. They don't just suck, but I am epically horrible at them. I am not only incapable of doing a goodbye justice, but I feel as if I am in limbo. In limbo to say hello again. Not simply to the people I am leaving behind (365 days...more or less), but to the people I have left behind (enam hari hari...er I don't understand this time change thing, so more or less).

     No one said the life of a vagrant was easy (it's not). I may never get it right. I've had to say too many goodbyes in the past 48 hours and not enough hellos. The hellos I have been able to say always end with a 'Goodbye, I'm sorry we didn't have more time, if you are ever in the US please let me know.' I can say I will be back in a year all day long, but no one will believe me until that (as of now) unaffordable ticket is booked again.

     Arriving at home has begun to settle in. I miss my home...terribly. Leaving my home away from home is being slapped across my face. There are some people I almost refuse to say 'bye' to; because it is just too freakin' hard. I wish I had something more profound, or even more positive to say, but I don't. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. C'est la vie et c'est ma vie.

     Of course, if I could do it all over again I would, every G-damned minute. But fuck, I will miss you guys, and 'fouk' I miss you guys.

-M

     Goodbyes, for lack of a better word, suck. They don't just suck, but I am epically horrible at them. I am not only incapable of doing a goodbye justice, but I feel as if I am in limbo. In limbo to say hello again. Not simply to the people I am leaving behind (365 days...more or less), but to the people I have left behind (enam hari hari...er I don't understand this time change thing, so more or less).

     No one said the life of a vagrant was easy (it's not). I may never get it right. I've had to say too many goodbyes in the past 48 hours and not enough hellos. The hellos I have been able to say always end with a 'Goodbye, I'm sorry we didn't have more time, if you are ever in the US please let me know.' I can say I will be back in a year all day long, but no one will believe me until that (as of now) unaffordable ticket is booked again.

     Arriving at home has begun to settle in. I miss my home...terribly. Leaving my home away from home is being slapped across my face. There are some people I almost refuse to say 'bye' to; because it is just too freakin' hard. I wish I had something more profound, or even more positive to say, but I don't. It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. C'est la vie et c'est ma vie.

     Of course, if I could do it all over again I would, every G-damned minute. But fuck, I will miss you guys, and 'fouk' I miss you guys.

-M

I guess I'll pack up my mind

     I would like to start off by apologizing for whatever I'm about to write here. Please blame it on the Nyquil induced haze I'm currently under. Sick with cold number two of the summer, which sucks, but isn't surprising because my immune system is about as durable as our shower head (read: handle with care). I finally mustered the strength to get off my ass and cook some food to ease the cold (and hungry tummy).

     As I sat there waiting for whatever lump of substance to come out of its frozen slumber in our handy toaster oven the call to prayer came on. Leaning over the railing out of the balcony staring at the large dome-ridden mosque down the street from us I thought about felt like when I first did this three months back. I remember feeling like I was in a place so foreign and that large copper-topped establishment that belched out songs five times a day was yet another reminder of just how far away I am from what I know. Although now I'm quite used to the songs (and what my flatmate and I lovingly refer to as 'the Malaysian top 20') I still get that sense of mystery. The skyline from my place, despite it's familiarity, still feels like a far off place. Maybe it's because I know that in a little over a week I'll, once again, be in a land that is far, far away from here.

     It's not easy to put into words how this place has changed me. Even if I tried, it would seem forced and inaccurate. I have things I want to say, things I can't say, and things I haven't figured out how to say.  There is a brown notebook that I've filled with notes, poems, not enough sketches, and frantic thoughts that pass through my mind en-route to destinations both near and far from here.

     The thought of leaving is a mixed bag for me. I feel like a thin rope bridge stretching across two continental plates. My toes flexed hard and the pads of my fingers just barely grasping the ends of each side. Below me, who knows or even cares really. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to the close friends I've made and a place I've learned to live in (although sometimes it feels like mere survival). On the other hand I really do miss Denver, I can't wait to be back in a certain someone's arms and I am excited to see the loved ones I've left behind.

     If you have had a real conversation with me this summer you know that I have some big decisions to make. The road ahead is unpaved and the route unclear. However, we all know I'll just let things work themselves out. If there is one thing I've learned on my brief stay in this world it's that both pain and happiness are equally as fleeting so enjoy all of it, because you can't have one without the other. Life is as simple as a series of trade-offs and just as complicated.

     The idea for the next week is to just enjoy it (assuming this damn cold eases up). I am going to try hard to see everyone, sleep very little, and think even less. School doesn't start for another two weeks. I can use my brain then.

-M

PS. There was a dead body in the river next to Masjid Jamek. Disturbing...

     I would like to start off by apologizing for whatever I'm about to write here. Please blame it on the Nyquil induced haze I'm currently under. Sick with cold number two of the summer, which sucks, but isn't surprising because my immune system is about as durable as our shower head (read: handle with care). I finally mustered the strength to get off my ass and cook some food to ease the cold (and hungry tummy).

     As I sat there waiting for whatever lump of substance to come out of its frozen slumber in our handy toaster oven the call to prayer came on. Leaning over the railing out of the balcony staring at the large dome-ridden mosque down the street from us I thought about felt like when I first did this three months back. I remember feeling like I was in a place so foreign and that large copper-topped establishment that belched out songs five times a day was yet another reminder of just how far away I am from what I know. Although now I'm quite used to the songs (and what my flatmate and I lovingly refer to as 'the Malaysian top 20') I still get that sense of mystery. The skyline from my place, despite it's familiarity, still feels like a far off place. Maybe it's because I know that in a little over a week I'll, once again, be in a land that is far, far away from here.

     It's not easy to put into words how this place has changed me. Even if I tried, it would seem forced and inaccurate. I have things I want to say, things I can't say, and things I haven't figured out how to say.  There is a brown notebook that I've filled with notes, poems, not enough sketches, and frantic thoughts that pass through my mind en-route to destinations both near and far from here.

     The thought of leaving is a mixed bag for me. I feel like a thin rope bridge stretching across two continental plates. My toes flexed hard and the pads of my fingers just barely grasping the ends of each side. Below me, who knows or even cares really. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to the close friends I've made and a place I've learned to live in (although sometimes it feels like mere survival). On the other hand I really do miss Denver, I can't wait to be back in a certain someone's arms and I am excited to see the loved ones I've left behind.

     If you have had a real conversation with me this summer you know that I have some big decisions to make. The road ahead is unpaved and the route unclear. However, we all know I'll just let things work themselves out. If there is one thing I've learned on my brief stay in this world it's that both pain and happiness are equally as fleeting so enjoy all of it, because you can't have one without the other. Life is as simple as a series of trade-offs and just as complicated.

     The idea for the next week is to just enjoy it (assuming this damn cold eases up). I am going to try hard to see everyone, sleep very little, and think even less. School doesn't start for another two weeks. I can use my brain then.

-M

PS. There was a dead body in the river next to Masjid Jamek. Disturbing...

     I would like to start off by apologizing for whatever I'm about to write here. Please blame it on the Nyquil induced haze I'm currently under. Sick with cold number two of the summer, which sucks, but isn't surprising because my immune system is about as durable as our shower head (read: handle with care). I finally mustered the strength to get off my ass and cook some food to ease the cold (and hungry tummy).

     As I sat there waiting for whatever lump of substance to come out of its frozen slumber in our handy toaster oven the call to prayer came on. Leaning over the railing out of the balcony staring at the large dome-ridden mosque down the street from us I thought about felt like when I first did this three months back. I remember feeling like I was in a place so foreign and that large copper-topped establishment that belched out songs five times a day was yet another reminder of just how far away I am from what I know. Although now I'm quite used to the songs (and what my flatmate and I lovingly refer to as 'the Malaysian top 20') I still get that sense of mystery. The skyline from my place, despite it's familiarity, still feels like a far off place. Maybe it's because I know that in a little over a week I'll, once again, be in a land that is far, far away from here.

     It's not easy to put into words how this place has changed me. Even if I tried, it would seem forced and inaccurate. I have things I want to say, things I can't say, and things I haven't figured out how to say.  There is a brown notebook that I've filled with notes, poems, not enough sketches, and frantic thoughts that pass through my mind en-route to destinations both near and far from here.

     The thought of leaving is a mixed bag for me. I feel like a thin rope bridge stretching across two continental plates. My toes flexed hard and the pads of my fingers just barely grasping the ends of each side. Below me, who knows or even cares really. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to the close friends I've made and a place I've learned to live in (although sometimes it feels like mere survival). On the other hand I really do miss Denver, I can't wait to be back in a certain someone's arms and I am excited to see the loved ones I've left behind.

     If you have had a real conversation with me this summer you know that I have some big decisions to make. The road ahead is unpaved and the route unclear. However, we all know I'll just let things work themselves out. If there is one thing I've learned on my brief stay in this world it's that both pain and happiness are equally as fleeting so enjoy all of it, because you can't have one without the other. Life is as simple as a series of trade-offs and just as complicated.

     The idea for the next week is to just enjoy it (assuming this damn cold eases up). I am going to try hard to see everyone, sleep very little, and think even less. School doesn't start for another two weeks. I can use my brain then.

-M

PS. There was a dead body in the river next to Masjid Jamek. Disturbing...

     I would like to start off by apologizing for whatever I'm about to write here. Please blame it on the Nyquil induced haze I'm currently under. Sick with cold number two of the summer, which sucks, but isn't surprising because my immune system is about as durable as our shower head (read: handle with care). I finally mustered the strength to get off my ass and cook some food to ease the cold (and hungry tummy).

     As I sat there waiting for whatever lump of substance to come out of its frozen slumber in our handy toaster oven the call to prayer came on. Leaning over the railing out of the balcony staring at the large dome-ridden mosque down the street from us I thought about felt like when I first did this three months back. I remember feeling like I was in a place so foreign and that large copper-topped establishment that belched out songs five times a day was yet another reminder of just how far away I am from what I know. Although now I'm quite used to the songs (and what my flatmate and I lovingly refer to as 'the Malaysian top 20') I still get that sense of mystery. The skyline from my place, despite it's familiarity, still feels like a far off place. Maybe it's because I know that in a little over a week I'll, once again, be in a land that is far, far away from here.

     It's not easy to put into words how this place has changed me. Even if I tried, it would seem forced and inaccurate. I have things I want to say, things I can't say, and things I haven't figured out how to say.  There is a brown notebook that I've filled with notes, poems, not enough sketches, and frantic thoughts that pass through my mind en-route to destinations both near and far from here.

     The thought of leaving is a mixed bag for me. I feel like a thin rope bridge stretching across two continental plates. My toes flexed hard and the pads of my fingers just barely grasping the ends of each side. Below me, who knows or even cares really. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to the close friends I've made and a place I've learned to live in (although sometimes it feels like mere survival). On the other hand I really do miss Denver, I can't wait to be back in a certain someone's arms and I am excited to see the loved ones I've left behind.

     If you have had a real conversation with me this summer you know that I have some big decisions to make. The road ahead is unpaved and the route unclear. However, we all know I'll just let things work themselves out. If there is one thing I've learned on my brief stay in this world it's that both pain and happiness are equally as fleeting so enjoy all of it, because you can't have one without the other. Life is as simple as a series of trade-offs and just as complicated.

     The idea for the next week is to just enjoy it (assuming this damn cold eases up). I am going to try hard to see everyone, sleep very little, and think even less. School doesn't start for another two weeks. I can use my brain then.

-M

PS. There was a dead body in the river next to Masjid Jamek. Disturbing...

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

Bali Bound

     You want to hear about how small the world is getting? No, well I’m going to tell you anyway. I have a friend from Spain (lives here), N who recently went on a trip to New York City. I am a Colgate graduate; that roughly translates to; you are abnormal if you do not live in New York City or at least the tri-state area. I happen to have a close friend L who speaks Spanish quite well so I introduced them to each other. I haven’t seen in L since he left Denver, back in February (March maybe?). However, it gets better than this. The other day I reading the news feed of a social media website (it’s not that hard to guess) and came across a message about another Euro friend D from Copenhagen. He is going to be in Bali the same time I am. Don’t know if we will meet up or not, but the situation gives that small world feeling. Especially considering another friend of mine, J has been living in CPH for the summer. Furthermore, I’m meeting CSers (in Bali, which is in Indonesia by the way) from Singapore who hail from India, Egypt, and Canada.

     So what do I make of this…I don’t even know what to call it…scenario perhaps? Well I either believe that the world is about to face some crazy changes by all of these people zipping around from country to country, or I really need to stay indoors. Then again, this being my 19^th move and the third country outside of the US that I’ve spent over 2 months in I’m not too surprised. It should be one hell of a trip.

     In other news I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg when riding horses because it hurts, and up until today I’ve been hobbling around. Will this keep me from my usual Wednesday shenanigans? No. I like the re-discovery of the Wednesday outing. It brings me back to the ‘good ‘ol days’ at ‘Gate. However, the music isn’t quite as good as the Jug. On the plus side, I do not have to worry about someone stealing my Northface. If you don’t get those references, don’t worry about it.

     If I don’t come home, you know where to find me…

-M

     You want to hear about how small the world is getting? No, well I’m going to tell you anyway. I have a friend from Spain (lives here), N who recently went on a trip to New York City. I am a Colgate graduate; that roughly translates to; you are abnormal if you do not live in New York City or at least the tri-state area. I happen to have a close friend L who speaks Spanish quite well so I introduced them to each other. I haven’t seen in L since he left Denver, back in February (March maybe?). However, it gets better than this. The other day I reading the news feed of a social media website (it’s not that hard to guess) and came across a message about another Euro friend D from Copenhagen. He is going to be in Bali the same time I am. Don’t know if we will meet up or not, but the situation gives that small world feeling. Especially considering another friend of mine, J has been living in CPH for the summer. Furthermore, I’m meeting CSers (in Bali, which is in Indonesia by the way) from Singapore who hail from India, Egypt, and Canada.

     So what do I make of this…I don’t even know what to call it…scenario perhaps? Well I either believe that the world is about to face some crazy changes by all of these people zipping around from country to country, or I really need to stay indoors. Then again, this being my 19^th move and the third country outside of the US that I’ve spent over 2 months in I’m not too surprised. It should be one hell of a trip.

     In other news I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg when riding horses because it hurts, and up until today I’ve been hobbling around. Will this keep me from my usual Wednesday shenanigans? No. I like the re-discovery of the Wednesday outing. It brings me back to the ‘good ‘ol days’ at ‘Gate. However, the music isn’t quite as good as the Jug. On the plus side, I do not have to worry about someone stealing my Northface. If you don’t get those references, don’t worry about it.

     If I don’t come home, you know where to find me…

-M

     You want to hear about how small the world is getting? No, well I’m going to tell you anyway. I have a friend from Spain (lives here), N who recently went on a trip to New York City. I am a Colgate graduate; that roughly translates to; you are abnormal if you do not live in New York City or at least the tri-state area. I happen to have a close friend L who speaks Spanish quite well so I introduced them to each other. I haven’t seen in L since he left Denver, back in February (March maybe?). However, it gets better than this. The other day I reading the news feed of a social media website (it’s not that hard to guess) and came across a message about another Euro friend D from Copenhagen. He is going to be in Bali the same time I am. Don’t know if we will meet up or not, but the situation gives that small world feeling. Especially considering another friend of mine, J has been living in CPH for the summer. Furthermore, I’m meeting CSers (in Bali, which is in Indonesia by the way) from Singapore who hail from India, Egypt, and Canada.

     So what do I make of this…I don’t even know what to call it…scenario perhaps? Well I either believe that the world is about to face some crazy changes by all of these people zipping around from country to country, or I really need to stay indoors. Then again, this being my 19^th move and the third country outside of the US that I’ve spent over 2 months in I’m not too surprised. It should be one hell of a trip.

     In other news I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg when riding horses because it hurts, and up until today I’ve been hobbling around. Will this keep me from my usual Wednesday shenanigans? No. I like the re-discovery of the Wednesday outing. It brings me back to the ‘good ‘ol days’ at ‘Gate. However, the music isn’t quite as good as the Jug. On the plus side, I do not have to worry about someone stealing my Northface. If you don’t get those references, don’t worry about it.

     If I don’t come home, you know where to find me…

-M

     You want to hear about how small the world is getting? No, well I’m going to tell you anyway. I have a friend from Spain (lives here), N who recently went on a trip to New York City. I am a Colgate graduate; that roughly translates to; you are abnormal if you do not live in New York City or at least the tri-state area. I happen to have a close friend L who speaks Spanish quite well so I introduced them to each other. I haven’t seen in L since he left Denver, back in February (March maybe?). However, it gets better than this. The other day I reading the news feed of a social media website (it’s not that hard to guess) and came across a message about another Euro friend D from Copenhagen. He is going to be in Bali the same time I am. Don’t know if we will meet up or not, but the situation gives that small world feeling. Especially considering another friend of mine, J has been living in CPH for the summer. Furthermore, I’m meeting CSers (in Bali, which is in Indonesia by the way) from Singapore who hail from India, Egypt, and Canada.

     So what do I make of this…I don’t even know what to call it…scenario perhaps? Well I either believe that the world is about to face some crazy changes by all of these people zipping around from country to country, or I really need to stay indoors. Then again, this being my 19^th move and the third country outside of the US that I’ve spent over 2 months in I’m not too surprised. It should be one hell of a trip.

     In other news I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg when riding horses because it hurts, and up until today I’ve been hobbling around. Will this keep me from my usual Wednesday shenanigans? No. I like the re-discovery of the Wednesday outing. It brings me back to the ‘good ‘ol days’ at ‘Gate. However, the music isn’t quite as good as the Jug. On the plus side, I do not have to worry about someone stealing my Northface. If you don’t get those references, don’t worry about it.

     If I don’t come home, you know where to find me…

-M

All the king's horses and all the king's men

     There is something about being around horses that puts me at ease. I can't explain it, but for whatever reason it makes me happy. I rode as a kid (my parents may argue that exposing me to this was a mistake on their part) and as a teenager, but I never had a horse of my own so at a certain point there wasn't much more I could do. I spent a majority of this weekend at a polo club. A friend of mine, S, is a pro polo rider and offered to take me out. It's been, well...a while, so my first time back in the saddle was a bit unsteady. Plus, I wasn't riding a lesson horse, or even really riding English (the only things I knew about polo before this weekend was popped collars, sticks, balls, and whatever the movies portrayed). However, I really enjoyed it. Today was much smoother than yesterday. It's amazing riding a pro horse. The closest thing I can compare it to is it's like driving a really nice sports car. The responsiveness of the horse is truly awesome. The style of riding, although it looks similar, is actually quite different - it has more of a Western feel to it than English. So it was even more of an adjustment for me, but I'm getting the hang of it...slowly.

     Just like the start of the snow season, your first time back in the saddle comes with its soreness. It's a reminder that you do in fact have muscles in places you didn't think you did (don't be pervy). However, it's the type of muscle soreness that is rewarding, reminding you just how great it is to do something you enjoy again.

     The game of polo is, no doubt, extremely difficult to master. It fascinates me from the standpoint of coordination between person, horse, and team. The horses are bred to be as smooth and agile as possible, and believe me they are. I have been told (and after witnessing, believe) it is the fastest team sport out there. Admirable in its own right. In America it does have that 'douchey'/ 'snooty' reputation, but I really didn't find that here. Everyone was super friendly and laid back. I appreciate this and enjoyed spending time there.

     After watching the rest of the matches on Saturday S and I headed into BB, yet again. It was a good night filled with excellent conversation and some great people watching. Today we checked out a different place, where there is live music. It is one of those bars that reminded me a bit of home, it had more of a dive thing going, but not in a bad way. A place where it is more about the company you keep than the party. It was good to just chill and talk, as my mind has been spinning lately. Nothing to write home about out about, just the expected off-balanced pirouettes that bounce around in my mind.

Well I'm dead tired and in need of some zzz's

-M

     There is something about being around horses that puts me at ease. I can't explain it, but for whatever reason it makes me happy. I rode as a kid (my parents may argue that exposing me to this was a mistake on their part) and as a teenager, but I never had a horse of my own so at a certain point there wasn't much more I could do. I spent a majority of this weekend at a polo club. A friend of mine, S, is a pro polo rider and offered to take me out. It's been, well...a while, so my first time back in the saddle was a bit unsteady. Plus, I wasn't riding a lesson horse, or even really riding English (the only things I knew about polo before this weekend was popped collars, sticks, balls, and whatever the movies portrayed). However, I really enjoyed it. Today was much smoother than yesterday. It's amazing riding a pro horse. The closest thing I can compare it to is it's like driving a really nice sports car. The responsiveness of the horse is truly awesome. The style of riding, although it looks similar, is actually quite different - it has more of a Western feel to it than English. So it was even more of an adjustment for me, but I'm getting the hang of it...slowly.

     Just like the start of the snow season, your first time back in the saddle comes with its soreness. It's a reminder that you do in fact have muscles in places you didn't think you did (don't be pervy). However, it's the type of muscle soreness that is rewarding, reminding you just how great it is to do something you enjoy again.

     The game of polo is, no doubt, extremely difficult to master. It fascinates me from the standpoint of coordination between person, horse, and team. The horses are bred to be as smooth and agile as possible, and believe me they are. I have been told (and after witnessing, believe) it is the fastest team sport out there. Admirable in its own right. In America it does have that 'douchey'/ 'snooty' reputation, but I really didn't find that here. Everyone was super friendly and laid back. I appreciate this and enjoyed spending time there.

     After watching the rest of the matches on Saturday S and I headed into BB, yet again. It was a good night filled with excellent conversation and some great people watching. Today we checked out a different place, where there is live music. It is one of those bars that reminded me a bit of home, it had more of a dive thing going, but not in a bad way. A place where it is more about the company you keep than the party. It was good to just chill and talk, as my mind has been spinning lately. Nothing to write home about out about, just the expected off-balanced pirouettes that bounce around in my mind.

Well I'm dead tired and in need of some zzz's

-M

     There is something about being around horses that puts me at ease. I can't explain it, but for whatever reason it makes me happy. I rode as a kid (my parents may argue that exposing me to this was a mistake on their part) and as a teenager, but I never had a horse of my own so at a certain point there wasn't much more I could do. I spent a majority of this weekend at a polo club. A friend of mine, S, is a pro polo rider and offered to take me out. It's been, well...a while, so my first time back in the saddle was a bit unsteady. Plus, I wasn't riding a lesson horse, or even really riding English (the only things I knew about polo before this weekend was popped collars, sticks, balls, and whatever the movies portrayed). However, I really enjoyed it. Today was much smoother than yesterday. It's amazing riding a pro horse. The closest thing I can compare it to is it's like driving a really nice sports car. The responsiveness of the horse is truly awesome. The style of riding, although it looks similar, is actually quite different - it has more of a Western feel to it than English. So it was even more of an adjustment for me, but I'm getting the hang of it...slowly.

     Just like the start of the snow season, your first time back in the saddle comes with its soreness. It's a reminder that you do in fact have muscles in places you didn't think you did (don't be pervy). However, it's the type of muscle soreness that is rewarding, reminding you just how great it is to do something you enjoy again.

     The game of polo is, no doubt, extremely difficult to master. It fascinates me from the standpoint of coordination between person, horse, and team. The horses are bred to be as smooth and agile as possible, and believe me they are. I have been told (and after witnessing, believe) it is the fastest team sport out there. Admirable in its own right. In America it does have that 'douchey'/ 'snooty' reputation, but I really didn't find that here. Everyone was super friendly and laid back. I appreciate this and enjoyed spending time there.

     After watching the rest of the matches on Saturday S and I headed into BB, yet again. It was a good night filled with excellent conversation and some great people watching. Today we checked out a different place, where there is live music. It is one of those bars that reminded me a bit of home, it had more of a dive thing going, but not in a bad way. A place where it is more about the company you keep than the party. It was good to just chill and talk, as my mind has been spinning lately. Nothing to write home about out about, just the expected off-balanced pirouettes that bounce around in my mind.

Well I'm dead tired and in need of some zzz's

-M

     There is something about being around horses that puts me at ease. I can't explain it, but for whatever reason it makes me happy. I rode as a kid (my parents may argue that exposing me to this was a mistake on their part) and as a teenager, but I never had a horse of my own so at a certain point there wasn't much more I could do. I spent a majority of this weekend at a polo club. A friend of mine, S, is a pro polo rider and offered to take me out. It's been, well...a while, so my first time back in the saddle was a bit unsteady. Plus, I wasn't riding a lesson horse, or even really riding English (the only things I knew about polo before this weekend was popped collars, sticks, balls, and whatever the movies portrayed). However, I really enjoyed it. Today was much smoother than yesterday. It's amazing riding a pro horse. The closest thing I can compare it to is it's like driving a really nice sports car. The responsiveness of the horse is truly awesome. The style of riding, although it looks similar, is actually quite different - it has more of a Western feel to it than English. So it was even more of an adjustment for me, but I'm getting the hang of it...slowly.

     Just like the start of the snow season, your first time back in the saddle comes with its soreness. It's a reminder that you do in fact have muscles in places you didn't think you did (don't be pervy). However, it's the type of muscle soreness that is rewarding, reminding you just how great it is to do something you enjoy again.

     The game of polo is, no doubt, extremely difficult to master. It fascinates me from the standpoint of coordination between person, horse, and team. The horses are bred to be as smooth and agile as possible, and believe me they are. I have been told (and after witnessing, believe) it is the fastest team sport out there. Admirable in its own right. In America it does have that 'douchey'/ 'snooty' reputation, but I really didn't find that here. Everyone was super friendly and laid back. I appreciate this and enjoyed spending time there.

     After watching the rest of the matches on Saturday S and I headed into BB, yet again. It was a good night filled with excellent conversation and some great people watching. Today we checked out a different place, where there is live music. It is one of those bars that reminded me a bit of home, it had more of a dive thing going, but not in a bad way. A place where it is more about the company you keep than the party. It was good to just chill and talk, as my mind has been spinning lately. Nothing to write home about out about, just the expected off-balanced pirouettes that bounce around in my mind.

Well I'm dead tired and in need of some zzz's

-M

Disco Lemonade

     One week until I head out to Bali. I really need to find a place to stay though. Those plans fell through yesterday. Maybe I'll just choose the beach...

     In other news, the competition I worked on last week got short listed. It's pretty exciting, although I'm not so sure how or why. This obviously means more work, but I've been spending my days building a Revit model of a residential development in Penang so we will see if I get moved or not.

     This week was filled with the usual. Saturday C and I stayed in because, well, between the two of us a boat load of stuff got stollen from us and that killed the mood. Sunday I hung out pool side with C and E. Then we had an awesome Lebanese meal complete with shisha. It was a perfect Sunday. Gorgeous out.

     Monday C and I had some Thai food around Wangsa Maju. I saw one of the best urbanscape sunsets I have ever laid eyes on. I debated whether or not to bring my camera (we were still a little paranoid) and I'm bummed I didn't. The way the bright colors of the flakey paint on lean-to, corr-tin food shacks collided with the brilliant oranges and reds of the setting sun across the city created a stunning backdrop for a great meal. As the sun set we sipped teh-o ais limon out of sweating glasses and watched characters go about their business. It's times like these that remind me that I'm alive and I love it here.

     Although I haven't given it much thought, people have started reminding me that I'll be leaving soon. I'm not ready to dwell on this idea so I won't, but it sparked me to write the sequel to my 'Things I will/won't miss' list. Without further delay, sort of in order:

Things I will miss

1. The people. Hands down the number one thing I will miss here. I have met some absolutely amazing individuals. Not to mention, the people watching here can be quite entertaining (I will get to that some other time). It's amazing to meet people from all over the world. I am surprised by how global KL actually is. Most of the people back home would be shocked as well, considering they either a) did not know where it was or b) thought the capital of Malaysia was Singapore.

2. The food. It's awesome and you can get almost anything (American bacon is a bit tricky and overpriced). The flavors are something to experience. America needs to adopt a better street food culture.

3. Accessibility. Transport to neighboring countries is cheap and easy. When you get sick of things, it's easy to leave.

4. Cheap stuff. I don't think I need to explain this one.

5. The CF. Although I do get annoyed with it sometimes, I not-so-secretly get a kick out of it. I like the challenge.

Things I won't miss

1. Not having air conditioning. Although I've gotten used to it, it still sucks. especially if it doesn't rain for a few days. It also makes things like doing your hair/makeup much more difficult. Not that I really care that much.

2. Cheap Stuff. It breaks/gets ruined easily. Causing you to buy more cheap stuff. Repeat. The consumerism here makes America look like a bunch of Sallys.

3. Expensive alcohol/limited beer selection. The should also need no explanation.

4. Being a Mat Salleh (Westerner). I hesitate with this one because it's who I am and it does, of course, have benefits as well. So I guess what I'm trying to say I won't miss people trying to take advantage of me because of the color of my skin. No I do not want to get in your un-metered taxi, no I don't want to buy your food just b/c it says 'western', yes I DO need the 30 day LRT pass, and just because I'm a Westerner does not mean I'll put out. Most of these problems come about when you hang around touristy areas, so I don't deal with it often, and I noticed my parents got it much worse than I did.  If you know what you're doing it's not a problem, but you are always going to be an outsider. I also like how the phrase means 'mad sailor.' 

5. Lack of clothing. Superficial I know, but I under-packed in terms of clothes and money doesn't grow on trees so it isn't like I can just buy a ton. My stuff here is starting to get kinda worn out. 

Well it's food time yum yum. 

-M

     One week until I head out to Bali. I really need to find a place to stay though. Those plans fell through yesterday. Maybe I'll just choose the beach...

     In other news, the competition I worked on last week got short listed. It's pretty exciting, although I'm not so sure how or why. This obviously means more work, but I've been spending my days building a Revit model of a residential development in Penang so we will see if I get moved or not.

     This week was filled with the usual. Saturday C and I stayed in because, well, between the two of us a boat load of stuff got stollen from us and that killed the mood. Sunday I hung out pool side with C and E. Then we had an awesome Lebanese meal complete with shisha. It was a perfect Sunday. Gorgeous out.

     Monday C and I had some Thai food around Wangsa Maju. I saw one of the best urbanscape sunsets I have ever laid eyes on. I debated whether or not to bring my camera (we were still a little paranoid) and I'm bummed I didn't. The way the bright colors of the flakey paint on lean-to, corr-tin food shacks collided with the brilliant oranges and reds of the setting sun across the city created a stunning backdrop for a great meal. As the sun set we sipped teh-o ais limon out of sweating glasses and watched characters go about their business. It's times like these that remind me that I'm alive and I love it here.

     Although I haven't given it much thought, people have started reminding me that I'll be leaving soon. I'm not ready to dwell on this idea so I won't, but it sparked me to write the sequel to my 'Things I will/won't miss' list. Without further delay, sort of in order:

Things I will miss

1. The people. Hands down the number one thing I will miss here. I have met some absolutely amazing individuals. Not to mention, the people watching here can be quite entertaining (I will get to that some other time). It's amazing to meet people from all over the world. I am surprised by how global KL actually is. Most of the people back home would be shocked as well, considering they either a) did not know where it was or b) thought the capital of Malaysia was Singapore.

2. The food. It's awesome and you can get almost anything (American bacon is a bit tricky and overpriced). The flavors are something to experience. America needs to adopt a better street food culture.

3. Accessibility. Transport to neighboring countries is cheap and easy. When you get sick of things, it's easy to leave.

4. Cheap stuff. I don't think I need to explain this one.

5. The CF. Although I do get annoyed with it sometimes, I not-so-secretly get a kick out of it. I like the challenge.

Things I won't miss

1. Not having air conditioning. Although I've gotten used to it, it still sucks. especially if it doesn't rain for a few days. It also makes things like doing your hair/makeup much more difficult. Not that I really care that much.

2. Cheap Stuff. It breaks/gets ruined easily. Causing you to buy more cheap stuff. Repeat. The consumerism here makes America look like a bunch of Sallys.

3. Expensive alcohol/limited beer selection. The should also need no explanation.

4. Being a Mat Salleh (Westerner). I hesitate with this one because it's who I am and it does, of course, have benefits as well. So I guess what I'm trying to say I won't miss people trying to take advantage of me because of the color of my skin. No I do not want to get in your un-metered taxi, no I don't want to buy your food just b/c it says 'western', yes I DO need the 30 day LRT pass, and just because I'm a Westerner does not mean I'll put out. Most of these problems come about when you hang around touristy areas, so I don't deal with it often, and I noticed my parents got it much worse than I did.  If you know what you're doing it's not a problem, but you are always going to be an outsider. I also like how the phrase means 'mad sailor.' 

5. Lack of clothing. Superficial I know, but I under-packed in terms of clothes and money doesn't grow on trees so it isn't like I can just buy a ton. My stuff here is starting to get kinda worn out. 

Well it's food time yum yum. 

-M

     One week until I head out to Bali. I really need to find a place to stay though. Those plans fell through yesterday. Maybe I'll just choose the beach...

     In other news, the competition I worked on last week got short listed. It's pretty exciting, although I'm not so sure how or why. This obviously means more work, but I've been spending my days building a Revit model of a residential development in Penang so we will see if I get moved or not.

     This week was filled with the usual. Saturday C and I stayed in because, well, between the two of us a boat load of stuff got stollen from us and that killed the mood. Sunday I hung out pool side with C and E. Then we had an awesome Lebanese meal complete with shisha. It was a perfect Sunday. Gorgeous out.

     Monday C and I had some Thai food around Wangsa Maju. I saw one of the best urbanscape sunsets I have ever laid eyes on. I debated whether or not to bring my camera (we were still a little paranoid) and I'm bummed I didn't. The way the bright colors of the flakey paint on lean-to, corr-tin food shacks collided with the brilliant oranges and reds of the setting sun across the city created a stunning backdrop for a great meal. As the sun set we sipped teh-o ais limon out of sweating glasses and watched characters go about their business. It's times like these that remind me that I'm alive and I love it here.

     Although I haven't given it much thought, people have started reminding me that I'll be leaving soon. I'm not ready to dwell on this idea so I won't, but it sparked me to write the sequel to my 'Things I will/won't miss' list. Without further delay, sort of in order:

Things I will miss

1. The people. Hands down the number one thing I will miss here. I have met some absolutely amazing individuals. Not to mention, the people watching here can be quite entertaining (I will get to that some other time). It's amazing to meet people from all over the world. I am surprised by how global KL actually is. Most of the people back home would be shocked as well, considering they either a) did not know where it was or b) thought the capital of Malaysia was Singapore.

2. The food. It's awesome and you can get almost anything (American bacon is a bit tricky and overpriced). The flavors are something to experience. America needs to adopt a better street food culture.

3. Accessibility. Transport to neighboring countries is cheap and easy. When you get sick of things, it's easy to leave.

4. Cheap stuff. I don't think I need to explain this one.

5. The CF. Although I do get annoyed with it sometimes, I not-so-secretly get a kick out of it. I like the challenge.

Things I won't miss

1. Not having air conditioning. Although I've gotten used to it, it still sucks. especially if it doesn't rain for a few days. It also makes things like doing your hair/makeup much more difficult. Not that I really care that much.

2. Cheap Stuff. It breaks/gets ruined easily. Causing you to buy more cheap stuff. Repeat. The consumerism here makes America look like a bunch of Sallys.

3. Expensive alcohol/limited beer selection. The should also need no explanation.

4. Being a Mat Salleh (Westerner). I hesitate with this one because it's who I am and it does, of course, have benefits as well. So I guess what I'm trying to say I won't miss people trying to take advantage of me because of the color of my skin. No I do not want to get in your un-metered taxi, no I don't want to buy your food just b/c it says 'western', yes I DO need the 30 day LRT pass, and just because I'm a Westerner does not mean I'll put out. Most of these problems come about when you hang around touristy areas, so I don't deal with it often, and I noticed my parents got it much worse than I did.  If you know what you're doing it's not a problem, but you are always going to be an outsider. I also like how the phrase means 'mad sailor.' 

5. Lack of clothing. Superficial I know, but I under-packed in terms of clothes and money doesn't grow on trees so it isn't like I can just buy a ton. My stuff here is starting to get kinda worn out. 

Well it's food time yum yum. 

-M

     One week until I head out to Bali. I really need to find a place to stay though. Those plans fell through yesterday. Maybe I'll just choose the beach...

     In other news, the competition I worked on last week got short listed. It's pretty exciting, although I'm not so sure how or why. This obviously means more work, but I've been spending my days building a Revit model of a residential development in Penang so we will see if I get moved or not.

     This week was filled with the usual. Saturday C and I stayed in because, well, between the two of us a boat load of stuff got stollen from us and that killed the mood. Sunday I hung out pool side with C and E. Then we had an awesome Lebanese meal complete with shisha. It was a perfect Sunday. Gorgeous out.

     Monday C and I had some Thai food around Wangsa Maju. I saw one of the best urbanscape sunsets I have ever laid eyes on. I debated whether or not to bring my camera (we were still a little paranoid) and I'm bummed I didn't. The way the bright colors of the flakey paint on lean-to, corr-tin food shacks collided with the brilliant oranges and reds of the setting sun across the city created a stunning backdrop for a great meal. As the sun set we sipped teh-o ais limon out of sweating glasses and watched characters go about their business. It's times like these that remind me that I'm alive and I love it here.

     Although I haven't given it much thought, people have started reminding me that I'll be leaving soon. I'm not ready to dwell on this idea so I won't, but it sparked me to write the sequel to my 'Things I will/won't miss' list. Without further delay, sort of in order:

Things I will miss

1. The people. Hands down the number one thing I will miss here. I have met some absolutely amazing individuals. Not to mention, the people watching here can be quite entertaining (I will get to that some other time). It's amazing to meet people from all over the world. I am surprised by how global KL actually is. Most of the people back home would be shocked as well, considering they either a) did not know where it was or b) thought the capital of Malaysia was Singapore.

2. The food. It's awesome and you can get almost anything (American bacon is a bit tricky and overpriced). The flavors are something to experience. America needs to adopt a better street food culture.

3. Accessibility. Transport to neighboring countries is cheap and easy. When you get sick of things, it's easy to leave.

4. Cheap stuff. I don't think I need to explain this one.

5. The CF. Although I do get annoyed with it sometimes, I not-so-secretly get a kick out of it. I like the challenge.

Things I won't miss

1. Not having air conditioning. Although I've gotten used to it, it still sucks. especially if it doesn't rain for a few days. It also makes things like doing your hair/makeup much more difficult. Not that I really care that much.

2. Cheap Stuff. It breaks/gets ruined easily. Causing you to buy more cheap stuff. Repeat. The consumerism here makes America look like a bunch of Sallys.

3. Expensive alcohol/limited beer selection. The should also need no explanation.

4. Being a Mat Salleh (Westerner). I hesitate with this one because it's who I am and it does, of course, have benefits as well. So I guess what I'm trying to say I won't miss people trying to take advantage of me because of the color of my skin. No I do not want to get in your un-metered taxi, no I don't want to buy your food just b/c it says 'western', yes I DO need the 30 day LRT pass, and just because I'm a Westerner does not mean I'll put out. Most of these problems come about when you hang around touristy areas, so I don't deal with it often, and I noticed my parents got it much worse than I did.  If you know what you're doing it's not a problem, but you are always going to be an outsider. I also like how the phrase means 'mad sailor.' 

5. Lack of clothing. Superficial I know, but I under-packed in terms of clothes and money doesn't grow on trees so it isn't like I can just buy a ton. My stuff here is starting to get kinda worn out. 

Well it's food time yum yum. 

-M