The Island of Bali

Lovina--Northwestern corner of the island of Bali, Indonesia

Current Weather--Warm, not as humid as Java, and a bit overcast with the threat of thundershowers at the moment--overall...nice :)

This will be a short entry as I am running out of time on the computer and it will most likely cost me an arm and a leg since I have been sitting at this computer for two hours now. But it was time to get caught up on life and try to get a few job applications out there into the world. Yes, the ever search for seasonal work...a love, hate relationship. I hate it when I have to search for it, but I love it when it sends me to amazing locations for work. You win some and you loose some. 

We arrived in the the northwestern corner of Bali yesterday morning. We ended up taking two trains and then a ferry from Yogyakarta to get to the current small beach village of Lovina that we are sitting in at the moment. It was a long day of travel. We spent that morning doing a two hour Batik lesson in Yogya then we caught the local bus to get to the train station and it was non stop travel after that. 4 hours on one train, 7 hours on another and then a 40 minute ferry ride. We got on the first train at 1600pm and we got off the train to catch the ferry at 0440am the next morning. We managed to catch a few hours of shut eye on the bumping, swaying train but needless to say we looked like zombies as we walked off of that train, fending off the numerous,"Hey Misters! Need a taxi!?" as we walked the 200 meters to the ferry terminal. Felt good to stretch the legs. 

So yesterday was spent getting to know Lovina and catch up on a little bit of sleep from the journey. Today all three of us went our own ways to do a bit of personal exploration. John went to dive, Rachel went to snorkel and I relaxed with my book, journal and wandered around Lovina taking photos as well as doing some job searching to fill the next few months of my life once I return state side.

That being said, any of you faithful readers have any good job ideas for me? Something to fill the months of January to mid April...

Lovina is nice. Quiet and small and easy to walk around. No crazy, jam packed traffic mob here. So far Bali has a different feel than the island of Java. I wasn't sure if I would like Bali because whenever you hear Bali all that is associated with the island is the thumping soul rocking party scene of the expats. Not exactly my scene. But I have discovered that if you make it to the smaller villages you can escape the scene. You will find more of that down near Denpasar. We will only be in Denpasar long enough to pick up John's girlfriend and then we're hitting the road again for bigger and better things. 

Bali is primarily Hindu so we have left much of the Muslim/Arabic influence behind although you can still find hints of it here and there. The temples we have found in Lovina are very different, the feel as well as the architecture of the place. People still pray to their God several times a day, but the call to prayer is not heard throughout the entire village. 

So that's that really. No real soul searching in this entry. Just some rambles. Until next time...

Toto, We're Not In Kansas Any More

"Asia is not going to be civilized after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old." ~Rudyard Kipling

Southeast Asia: Indonesia

Current Location: Yogyakarta, near southern Java

Hong Kong has been left behind. It's December 17th, my mother's birthday, and I am sitting in an internet cafe attempting to update this blog in Yogyakarta (pronounced Jogjakarta). My season with Dragonfly ended December 7th. I wrapped up a six day backpacking program with the Australian International School of Singapore, unpacked my bags, repacked my bags and boarded a plane for Singapore on December 8th.

Three days in Singapore drooling over the myriad mixture of amazing food there and then we boarded another plane for Jakarta, Indonesia for about 25 days of adventure. Southeast Asian style. 

Two days in Jakarta where I relaxed and attempted to recuperate from a bad flu like cold. I discovered quickly that there is nothing worse than traveling when you are battling a cold and a fever. We were in 90 degree weather and I was freezing. When we hit air conditioned rooms, my entire body ached with the cold. A day of sleep quickly killed it and we were back at it. 

A train ride to the smaller city of Bandung, a hike up the ridge of Tangkuban Perahu, a smoking volcano where we faced the wrath of Mother Nature in the form of a lightning bolt that came a little too close for comfort. And then it was another train to Yogyakarta, traveling through some of the most beautiful countryside I have seen in some time. Terraced rice paddies, green, green, and more green. It was beautiful.
This is the real deal. No more organized mass public transit system, no more timely bus schedules, no more English tourist signs to direct you where you need to go. Where you can find a sign it is in three languages: Hindu, Arabic, Bahasa, and then maybe English if you are lucky. 

Here it is you, a clean change of clothes and your wits. The lonely planet guide book will only get you so far. Life in Indonesia flows to its own beat. When the bus is full that is when you depart for your destination. That could take twenty minutes or an hour and a half waiting for that bus to fill. Once that bus is full, it's not filled with the maximum limit of five people,instead it is more like 20 people crammed in tighter than sardines in a can. If the guide book says it takes an hour to get from Point A to Point B by public transit, expect it to be more like three hours. The roads are packed with motor bikes, scooters, tiny buses, trucks, bicycles, pedestrians all attempting to go in the same direction. You could easily just move five feet in thirty minutes. Crossing the street as a pedestrian here should take five years off your life, but it's actually quite easy. You step out into the street and weave your way through, the bikes melt around you, the cars seem to disappear around you and before you know it you are across to the other side. It's like nothing I have ever experienced.

Let's just say that seeing three white westerners ask for the local bus out of Bandung a few days past made the day of many local Indonesians. They stared at us and then they giggled until I thought they were going to wet themselves. But they eagerly escorted us to their "bus" and loaded us in. It was as much of a highlight for us as it was for them. 

Indonesian people are incredibly friendly. After three months of life in Hong Kong it is a nice change. In Hong Kong no one dared make eye contact. Here you are hailed from left and right with a: "Hi Mister! Hi Miss!! Where you going?" Granted, a white westerner also means money in their eyes, but there are also those just eager to practice their English and get their paparazzi photo of the 6ft giant of a white man that I am traveling with. People are eager to send you in the right direction if you need assistance. If you asked a local for directions in Hong Kong you often just got a lot of gestures in the far off distance that got you more lost than you already were. Here, a person will eagerly lead you to where you need to be, chatting your ear off as you walk. 

Indonesia is a country filled with the old and the new. It is a Muslim and Hindu country. The island of Java where we are located is primarily Muslim and so there is the call to prayer five times a day. 4am, 12pm, 3pm, 6pm, and 7:30pm. The call to prayer reaches across the entire city and is actually a beautiful thing to hear. 

This morning we woke to the 4 am call to prayer and boarded a bus at 5 am to tour two of the largest Buddhist and Hindu temples of Southeast Asia: Borobudur and Prambanan. Both sites are listed as world heritage sites and after being there I can see why. The essence of religion and the overall idea of "belief" oozed from Borobudur. I do not consider myself a religious person, but my personal faith was strong as I walked around that complex with the eyes of thousands of stone carved Buddhas looking over me. I wanted to sit, close my eyes and just listen to the hidden whispers that I was sure were there. 

My journey through Hong Kong was not really captured on this blog, little time for reflection or the energy to write. But the last three and a half months of my life have been filled with culture. The next few weeks ahead promise more. One thing I have learned since leaving the states in September and landing in Asia to work overseas, the world is vast and knowledge is wine. I may be thirty one years old and just as unsettled as I was ten years ago, but I wouldn't trade my life for any other at this point. We only have one life and there is only one world, it is in our hands to take and see, to explore. Why hold back? 

Locate the Westerner

“As the soil, however rich it may be, cannot be productive without cultivation, so the mind without culture can never produce good fruit.” –Seneca Quote

81 Degrees

80% Humidity

One of the things that I have been enjoying the most since arriving in Hong Kong is the opportunity to explore. The work day ends at 1830pm and I sit down in the arm chair in our room and flip through my guide book. I’ve only been here a month and it is already looking like a well used, well traveled document. 

That’s something I love to see in a book, pages dog eared, smudged written notes in the margin. That’s when you know you’ve been making the best of your location. The book comes alive with the experiences that you have had, the personality of the reader coming thru in the scribbled notes. 

Since arriving, I have had a lot of down time. Something I didn’t necessarily expect. While in Antarctica I felt like I was on non-stop go, little breathing time between work and sleep. Granted, I know this will soon change as we prepare to go into full time program mode. At the moment, however, we have been going at a snail’s pace. There’s been plenty of time in the evenings to relax and get caught up on this blog, but I have found myself with little inspiration. Why? I don’t really know. Maybe it’s because I can’t decide what to write about since there is so much to think about. More of my time has been spent with my nose buried in a book enjoying a little peace and quiet, letting my brain meander thru the world of the written jungle rather than write my own written jungle. 

However, when Sunday, our day of rest, arrives, it’s up at the crack of dawn to load the day pack, eat breakfast and hail down the first bus of the day, heading out into the humid world of Hong Kong. The mindless book of the night before replaced by guide book and with map and passport in hand, off I go. 

What am I in search of? 

Cultural Immersion. 

Searching for cultural immersion.

Hong Kong has opened new doors to my idea of adventure. Past journeys have primarily involved time in a remote, backcountry setting doing some intense recreational activity. Here, however, the hiking boots have been replaced with lightweight trail runners, my day pack the only pack resting on my shoulders, my legs exercising the streets of hidden communities around the islands of Hong Kong as my taste buds get a work out sampling the street market wares. I have realized that it is still adventuring, just a new angle off of the old. My lens shutter on my camera has been getting more of a workout than I have, but my heart is content. My brain overloading with the knowledge it is storing away for future use. 

I am ready to expand my world. My current list of goals looks like this: 

• Master the use of chopsticks—ongoing
• Learn Cantonese and use it to get around the city—so far I have mastered hello, how are you, two ways to say thank you, and turn left and turn right
• Eat a variety of diverse ethnic foods—I am hesitant when it comes to things like snake soup and animal guts, but one of these days it may happen J
• See a Fire Dragon Ceremony—Done! Witnessed this at the Mid Autumn Festival
• See a monkey—Done! Came face to face with a curious Macaque Monkey at the 10,000 Buddha Monastery
• Temples—on going—getting a fair amount of temple time where I go
• Water Buffalo—Done! Saw the real thing in Mui Wo after a week of being in Hong Kong
• Meditate while surrounded by the chatter of a foreign language—Done! Sometimes Cantonese can be music to your ears and sometimes it can make your ear drums ache, but it is still beautiful to sit in silence and let the sounds of language flow around you
• See/hear the barking deer that reside in the countryside of Hong Kong
• Hike the longest trail in Hong Kong, the MacLehose Trail which is 100km long

The list will expand as time passes. 

One of the many temples I have stepped into.

A Hong Kong sunset

An interesting mixture going on in this photo.

An interesting game I have found myself playing has been: Locate the Westerner. I have quickly discovered that the closer you are to the main metropolitan parts of Hong Kong the more Westerners are spotted. As you progress out into the outlying islands and the land of the New Territories, the sightings become fewer and fewer. Why, I’m not really sure. Those are some of the areas I enjoy exploring the most. 

Whenever I spot a fellow westerner I find myself smiling. I have to admit, we stand out like a sore thumb. Height, skin color and hair color are a dead giveaway. For one who likes to blend into the crowd, I have come to the wrong continent. Being a westerner, I have gotten my fair share of penetrating, inquisitive stares from locals. It makes me squirm to be under such thorough scrutiny, despite the fact that I know the person isn’t doing it out of rudeness, it’s simply curiosity. My facial muscles twitch with the urge to scrunch my face up and stick my tongue out. The temptation is strong, but I have no desire to insult my hosts while I am a visitor in their country. 

First of all, I never thought I would consider myself tall, but living in Hong Kong, I feel like a giant. It’s a weird feeling. I just make the cut for “average” height, but here I find myself sometimes towering nearly two feet over the adult locals. Many westerners are taller than my 5’5”, so it is easy to look down the aisle of the train and spot all the westerners stooping so they don’t hit their heads against the roof of the MTR. 

I have mastered my fear of the big city already. I have discovered that despite the fact that I am not a city person whatsoever, I can navigate my way around by myself comfortably. It feels good to be able to wander around a city the size of Hong Kong and “know” my way around. Reading a map in the city is the same as reading one in the wilderness, you just have to dodge massive crowds and loud traffic while you’re at it. 

I have learned to tap on the table with one finger when someone asks if I would like tea at meal times. This is the Cantonese way of saying thank you and if you are single it is with one finger. I now cover my mouth when eating if I happen to talk to someone or if I need to use a toothpick to get something out of my teeth. I have become aware of the fact that Westerners have a grip of a handshake that makes Hong Kongers cringe so my handshake has become a brushing of fingers. 

I’ll admit Asia was never necessarily on my list of places to travel until this past summer. Why, I don’t really know. Maybe it was the language barrier factor? For some reason places like South America had always appealed to me more, although I don’t speak Spanish any more than I speak Cantonese. Either way, here I am, in Asia. Whether I found myself in Asia or South America, there was one thing I had been determined to experience, culture. I love the experience of loosing oneself in the midst of the life of someone else. I wouldn’t consider myself a “local” but I feel at peace with my surroundings. 

One of the cutest little old men I've ever seen

The First Month

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”—John Steinbeck

86 Degrees

54% Humidity

It’s nearly been a month since I’ve been in Hong Kong. It’s been a whirlwind to say the least. I feel like I keep saying that, but it’s the truth. My feet have barely rested in one spot since the plane settled on the ground. That is not a complaint; mind you, simply an observation. Despite all my fears and apprehensions about this urban jungle, Hong Kong is definitely satisfying my hunger for adventure, much to see and much to do.

Just a few of the locations I have been since arriving on Sept. 4th.

The majority of the month of September has been dedicated to Dragonfly specific staff training with several days off to venture out into the unknown. Six days were spent on Lantau Island in the small village of Mui Wo doing all the policy and procedure side of things. We then moved to the miniscule village of Hoi Ha where we commenced our site specific training. I will be calling Hoi Ha home for the remainder of the season as long as I am not needed elsewhere.

Hoi Ha is a village consisting of about thirteen houses that virtually all belong in the same family, that being the Yung family. Many of the small villages within Hong Kong are all one family. Hoi Ha was started by the Yung family and has remained in their hands roughly for the last 200 and some years. Everyone carries the same last name, Yung, yet they are all separate from one another so you have to remember who you are doing business with. It’s Mr. Yung, who runs the restaurant, and it’s Mr. Yung who runs the kayak shop where we store our kayaks for programs, yet they are two different men.

Hoi Ha. My home for the next three months.



Our kitchen up on the roof.



The view from our open kitchen out on the roof.

In as small of a village as Hoi Ha, good relationships with the few business owners that reside there are extremely important. Burning bridges in Hong Kong don’t get you anywhere. That’s the Chinese way it seems. If you go up to someone with your western ways and pressure them into getting something that you want, you might get it, but you might get it for a hefty price as well. Whereas, if you are introduced to them by someone and you bide your time, you also get what you want and you save your money too. If you consistently do business with one restaurant and then you suddenly go to the neighboring competing restaurant, the next time you go back to the former restaurant, expect the food prices to be higher than they were the last time you were there. That is just how it works. It’s a delicate situation, despite the fact that the competitor might also be their relative.

The village of Hoi Ha fulfills my need for seclusion. Thirteen homes and only one restaurant that is just open at the lunch hour, serving local Chinese fare. If you don’t have a car you have to catch the bus to Sai Kung, the nearest largest town for any supplies. The bus costs $10.70 Hong Kong dollars which is like $1.30 cents U.S. dollars. It swings thru 20 and 50 minutes past the hour, its last departure from Hoi Ha for the day being at 1850pm. If you miss that final bus your only option is a taxi which will cost $100 Hong Kong dollar.

It’s only twenty minutes to Sai Kung but on occasion it can be a hair raising twenty minutes. The public transit drivers can be a force to reckon with. The driver’s priority is to make money since jobs in this area of Hong Kong are a bit limiting. In order to make money, they need to be efficient with their time. Needless to say, Hong Kongers do not dally. Everything is business to them. You do not hesitate in the grocery line; you do not dither at the taxi door unsure as to your destination. They will shoo you out of their vehicle, castigating you with their rapid flow Cantonese.

Bus drivers will often drive at break neck speeds. When you factor in the obstacles of narrow roads, oncoming traffic, moseying feral cattle in the middle of the road, the need to go to Sai Kung to the wet market no longer feels like a priority. Staying alive, however, does.

The speed that the drivers go at is visible above the rear view mirror for the passengers to see with a large sign saying the following: Maximum speed for this vehicle is 80km. This is posted right next to the digital speedometer, but how often it is enforced is another story. I spent one bus ride to Choi Hung from Sai Kung gripping the “Oh shit” bar for dear life sure that that day was my last. The driver careened through the tight turns, his finger permanently attached to the horn, blasting at anything that considered nearing his front bumper. I sat in the seat, my eyes fixated on the digital speedometer over the driver’s head, watching as the numbers kept a steady 90km when the speed limit outside was 60km. Amazingly enough, I arrived in Choi Hung without a scratch and ten extra minutes to spare. Despite the efficiency, it felt good to set foot on solid ground, I won’t lie.
 

Our days at Hoi Ha have been filled with familiarizing ourselves with site visits to the locations we will be running programs at. We’ve also been prepping ourselves for the experience of working with students that come from an ESL background. ESL meaning: English as a second language. I have worked with ESL individuals before, guiding in Alaska often puts you in contact with many different clients from all over the world.
 

However, having the opportunity to instruct a day program of 80 Japanese nine year olds who don’t speak English was truly an educational opportunity. Despite the language barrier, you can still get young children to understand the necessities. All you had to do was smile and start cheering and you were surrounded by giggling, cute, little, dimpled Japanese imps eager to chase you in a silent game of tag. If you picked up a slow moving beach snail to show them you quickly had more beach snails presented to you than you knew what to do with. Despite the language barrier, they loved us.
 

So, what do I think of Hong Kong? Well, to put it simply, I am not sitting here disappointed. I’ll admit, I can recognize the fact that before arriving, I had actually succumbed to the stereotype that many Americans fall to when it comes to the idea of Hong Kong. I had been convinced that I would be living amongst towering sky scrapers and I wouldn’t see a blade of grass. Boy was I ever wrong.
 

Employed under Dragonfly’s wing, I have had the great opportunity to see the “hidden” side of Hong Kong. It’s rural side.
 

It’s amazing.

Street vendors in Central.



Sky Scrapers in Central.



The other side of Hong Kong...the villages.



Tai O...a little fishing village where they live in stilt houses.



















 

It’s still vastly different from anything I’ve experienced recreationally, but this journey can still be classified as a step into remoteness, something I need. I feel humbled to be wandering the little concrete trails that bisect the countryside of the New Territories, rambling in and out of the small cramped villages that are barely hanging on by a shoestring. It gives one a glimpse of how tough it is to survive here if you don’t make the commute to the big city to work.
 

Hong Kong is a mystery, an intriguing one. The name Hong Kong came from the Cantonese word, “heung-gawng,” meaning “fragrant harbor.” The story behind this christening is a specific tree, the Aquilaria sinensis, also known as the “Incense Tree.” The incense was exported as far as Arabia back in the day.
 

Historians state that Hong Kong was incorporated into the Chinese empire as early as around 200BC, yet it was considered a “remote pocket in a neglected corner of the Chinese empire” for many, many years. China as well as Hong Kong remained separated from the outside world for many centuries until around the 1500’s when Portuguese explorers set up a trade center on a small island called Macau. Today, Macau is the gambling center of China, bringing in more revenue than the glittering strip we call Las Vegas (more to come on Macau in a later post). The Dutch, the French, and then the British soon followed the Portuguese. By the 1700’s mainland China and the south lying islands consisting of Hong Kong were open to European trade.
Once the invasion of the West came, it was all downhill from there for the Eastern culture.
 

Today, Hong Kong can be broken into five different regions: the main island Hong Kong, Lantau Island, Kowloon, the New Territories, and the Outlying Islands. Hong Kong Island is most commonly known as the “central district.” Central and Kowloon is where you can find the impressive towers of sky scrapers and streets packed with bargain shoppers, the Hong Kong that we all hear about back in the states. Despite its metropolitan feel, it’s a sight to see. Little alleyway street vendors selling dried fish right next to glamorous Prada wanna be’s.
 

The New Territories and Outlying Islands is where Hong Kong’s “wilderness” is at and that is where I am located. The region consists of designated areas called Country Parks which is equivalent to National Parks back in the U.S. The sky scrapers were left behind and the land was reclaimed for recreation and preservation. This is where many of the small villages can also be found. It is a different lifestyle. There is very little “old growth” forest left in Hong Kong. The land was virtually clear cut during the Japanese invasion of World War II and has since been re-established mainly with non-native species unfortunately due to the fact that no native plant species remained.
 

This region consists of a myriad maze of hiking trails, some on beaten earth and many on a foundation of concrete. It took a bit to get used to the idea that the majority of the trails here in Hong Kong are on wide paths of concrete, but at the same time it is nice. It lets you cruise along at a good clip, left to enjoy the scenery.