An Introduction to India

PHOTO ALBUM - Chennai, Hampi, Mumbai

Our introduction to India was in Chennai, on the southeast coast of the subcontinent. Chennai really fulfilled all the stereotypes associated with India – it was overcrowded, there was trash (and feces from many species, included the human one) on the streets, livestock in places you don’t expect to see livestock, and an uncomfortable number of beggars and people sleeping in the streets. However,  as Brian said in the last blog post,  it was also a vibrant, colorful, friendly place. A highlight of our short time in Chennai was a walk to Marina Beach. Our route was lined with book stalls, ice cream stores, tea stands, and some great people (and livestock) watching. Once arriving at the beach, we were reminded that this was a country of a billion people. The shoreline, as far as we could see, was lined with a mass of people just enjoying some time by the water, as well as plenty of fully dressed Indians playing in the waves crashing into shore. The beach area itself was huge – probably 300 meters from the road to the shore. It was covered with food vendors, tight-rope walkers, knick-knack sellers, and my favorite, a stand where you could have your photo taken with a life-size cut-out of a selection of Bollywood stars. I admit, I was tempted.

On August 15^th – India’s Independence Day - We took a day trip to Mamallapuram, a beach town a couple hours south of Chennai. Given the heat and humidity, we ended up spending most of the day trying to avoid the sun.  Most of the afternoon was spent people and cow-watching from a restaurant overlooking the beach while we started planning our time in India with our newly acquired guidebook. We were able to score an India Lonely Planet guidebook for a dollar at a bookshop in Mamallapuram, which made the entire trip there worth it. We realized that we had somehow accumulated far more books than any backpacker in their right mind would carry around. So we traded five books (plus $1) for the guidebook…I’m sure the seller thought he was making out with a steal, and we were equally happy to get rid of the books and get a guidebook for cheap…everyone’s a winner.  We took in a couple temples after the sun got a little lower before hopping on a bus back to Chennai to catch our first night train (more about the trains later) for the journey to Hampi.

The trip to Hampi took a lot longer than expected. The train reservation office booked us through to Guntakal, and said it would be easy to book a train from there to Hospet, which is only a 12 km autorickshaw ride from Hampi. It was quite easy to book the train to Hospet, but unfortunately, the lady we made our reservation with didn’t mention that the train didn’t leave until 2 pm (and we had arrived in Guntakal at 9 am).  During our (long) day at the train station, we had our first experience with the staring phenomenon here in India. From what we have read and been told by other travelers, completely unabashed staring at foreigners is not socially unacceptable here.  I don’t think it’s meant be rude, it’s probably just a reaction to us looking so different (especially me, the tall blonde beacon). They don’t just glance at us as they walk by, they fixate on us for an uncomfortable amount of time.  Groups of people will stare at us while we’re just sitting reading a book. Or one man just chose to sit down next to me and watch me read the book.  As I was making the walk down the platform to the bathroom, I actually saw a man entirely shift his position so he could continue watching me walk. At one point a young graduate of a foreign language school came over to talk to us for awhile. In the course of a 5 minute conversation, a group of about 10 people had gathered in a semi-circle right in front of us and just watched us.   I’m really not sure how this social faux pas elsewhere in the world didn’t become a faux pas in India, but this is definitely going to take a bit of getting used to while we are here.

Since the journey took longer than expected, we ended up with only one quick day in Hampi. It’s kind of like a smaller Angkor Wat (Cambodia) or Bagan (Burma) – it used to be a major royal city centuries ago, and there are temples and ruins leftover from that time period all over Hampi. It’s a very interesting landscape, as well – the area is full of boulder fields and banana plantations. We spent the day walking dirt trails and roads all over the city and exploring the temples as we came across them.  We spent time practicing English and taking pictures with local teenagers and younger adults.  We figured out that people have no problem asking complete strangers for water, and since we usually carry water bottles, we give it to them. I’ve watched all the locals here, and they all have a talent of drinking out of bottles and communal pitchers without the container touching their mouth. I’ve been attempting this myself, and usually end up with a wet shirt. We met a guy from Hospet who probably knew more about Hollywood movies than we did, and thought Brian looked like Steven Spielburg. We can add this to the list of other people Brian has been told he looks like:the mafia, Osama Bin Laden, an Argentinean, an Italian, a Spaniard, the Taliban, a maharaja (defined as a great king or princely ruler)…there’s clearly a stereotype associated with a beard. 

After Hampi, we moved on to Mumbai, formerly known as Bombay.  Unfortunately, Brian came down with a pretty bad head/chest cold on our way into Mumbai and so we didn’t as much of the city as we wanted to. We enjoyed what we saw, though – we stayed in the Colaba area, which is full of the old colonial architecture from the days when Britain occupied India. It makes for scenic walking, and that area of Mumbai is pretty clean, especially compared to what we saw in Hampi and Chennai. It’s not all like this - on our way to the train station as we were leaving, we did get a glimpse of the slums of Mumbai, and it’s about as depressing to look at as you might imagine.  While in Mumbai we took a boat trip out to Elephanta Island to see the caves with impressive carvings of the stories of the Hindu gods.

We are now in Udaipur, in Rajahstan state, where we plan to relax for 4 days before heading out again. This is our last stop before we make it up into the very north of India, where we hope to concentrate the rest of our time in India. This is the first place we’re planning to spend more than 2 nights – we’ve been on a 2 nights in a hotel/1 night on a train pattern since we’ve arrived in India, mostly due to the fact that we flew into the very south of India and wanted to spend our time in the very north, and need to get moving!  If you check a map, we’ve covered quite a bit of ground in the last 10 days. We’ve enjoyed the destinations we’ve been so far, but getting to them by train has been half the experience.  We’ve taken 3 night trains so far, all sleeper class since the air-conditioned cars have booked up so fast. Sleeper class is a 6-beds-to a berth, bring your own bedding, and you’re cooled with fans and open windows (except when it’s raining, or if you have a bunkmate who is paranoid about it raining in the middle of the night, even though he’s on the top bunk and wouldn’t even feel it).  Everything is open so there’s no privacy, which is okay except  there’s not much courtesy practiced in terms of the noise level…people talk loudly into all hours of the night. Food vendors roam up and down the aisles, calling out the name of what they’re selling, which of course we can’t understand but so far haven’t gone wrong with whatever we’ve tried. The tea sellers are the most ubiquitous, and you constantly here the droning “Chai…chai…garam chai”, which is welcome sound since they’ll pour you a tiny cup of the tasty drink for only 5 rupees (about 11 cents). There are beggars who walk the aisles,also -  mostly the disabled -  but interestingly, we’ve also seen the Indianlady-boys also walking down the aisles, clapping their hands and then demanding  money.  We’ve shared berths with people who have kind of pretended we weren’t there, and we’ve also shared berths with some really friendly people.   On our journey to Mumbai we shared our space with a very nice (if not a bit loud) family who managed to fit about 6 or 7 people onto 3 beds (and the floor). We had little ability to communicate with them, but they were eager to share their snacks and get us to try all the snacks the vendors were selling (we ate a lot on that train), and even passed the baby around to us, who was quite receptive to being held by what must have looked like some very strange people to her.

The trains without reserved seats are an entirely different story.  It’s a mad rush to get onto the train and find a seat, and our big backpacks that we carry around do not make getting into that rush any easier. Personal space is not an issue here; if there’s an iota of seat showing, someone will make you shove over to make room for them. It makes for some cramped journeys, but after the rush is over, everyone’s pretty polite. When a rather large woman literally fell asleep using me as her support, a man on the bench across from me just started laughing and kindly gave up his seat for me. Then the woman I was sitting next to gave me lessons on how to ‘establish my space’, or I assume that’s what she was doing when she kept tugging on my leg so I was sitting in a nice wide, open-legged stance.

Nothing could prepare me for the local trains we took in Mumbai to get from train station to train station within the city, though. On the day we left for Udaipur, we went to the Old Victoria terminus to make some train reservations for future trips (and were able to score beds on an air-conditioned sleeper car, bedding included, for our next journey, which we are most excited about). Our train to Udaipur was out of Mumbai’s Bandra station, which we could reach through the local trains from the Old Victoria terminus. The first train was fine – we established some space when we got on the train, and were able to hold onto it as the train got more and more crowded with each stop. It’s hard to describe just how crowded the train got. Just imagine a solid mass of people packed into a car and spilling out the doorways…it’s not for the claustrophobic. By the time the train stopped at the Dadar station, where we were to change for another train, we were caught in the middle of a mass of people leaving the train fighting a mass of people getting on the train. The stops are short, so we were actually not sure if we could make it off the train, but we did get off in Dadar. Then we had to get on a train to Bandra station, which was as full as the train we had just gotten off. The first train that came through, we didn’t even attempt to get on while watching the mass of people fight each other to pack into that train. The second train that came through, we did attempt to get on, but after some intense elbowing and position-jockying I found I was no match for the mob of men pushing and shoving their way onto the train fighting the mob of men trying to get off the train. The huge packs on our back did not help the situation.  We failed and missed that train. For train number three, we decided our chances of both of us getting on would be best if I tried to get on the ladies-only car. Not that the ladies are any less vicious in getting on and off the train, but at least I thought I could hold my own against them as opposed to the men.  I managed to push my way onto the third train with the rest of the female mob, and barely managed to push my way off the train against the strong current of aggressive women boarding it when it stopped at Bandra station.  Since we were briefly separated, Brian and I were not exactly sure what we would have done had one of us made the train and the other not.  It may have been very difficult to find each other again in the chaos that is a Mumbai train station.  Luckily the third time was the charm.  While this is an experience that I won’t forget, and even laugh at the absurdity of today (though not so much at the time), we have decided that public trains in chaotic Indian cities is not our thing, and when in need we’re just going to take a  taxi instead.  This type of aggressiveness is not something we understand.  While at a short train stop, Brian also had to fight his way through a group of people trying to buy something to eat at a snack stand, rather than stand in line in an organized fashion.  But then again, maybe it’s just “everyone for themselves” in this country of over a billion people…

Overall, our first week and half in India has been a good experience, with the exception of a very bad encounter with a Mumbai taxi driver at 6 am. We don’t want to go into it, but will just say that we were not too sharp at 6 am coming off a night train and the taxi driver was a very bad man and a talented scam-artist.  No major harm done - just some extra money that went into a pair of corrupt hands.  But we are not very proud of our performance that morning as "seasoned" travellers.  Other than that, we’ve seen some incredible sites, stayed at nice, clean hotels, eaten absolutely delicious food and drank lots of chai teas and lassis, and just enjoyed the craziness and chaos that is India. We’re looking forward to what there is to come this next month!

Sri Lanka

PHOTO ALBUM - Sri Lanka

We arrived in Sri Lanka on August 2^nd and immediately made our way to the hill country to a town called Kandy.  It turns out that we arrived just in time for the annual Esala Perahera festival that takes place every summer for over ten days to honor the sacred tooth enshrined in Temple of the Tooth.  We don’t completely understand the full story behind this sacred tooth, but apparently this tooth was snatched from the Budda’s funeral pyre in 543BC and then gained more and more spiritual importance.  Eventually a temple was built in Kandy to house the tooth and for centuries this Perahera festival has taken place to honor it.  The Perahera is a massive parade - that includes elephants, dancers, fire - every night until the full moon and the streets are jam-packed with people – some who camp out on the street the night before to reserve a space.  It is a big deal for Buddhists (Sri Lanka being an important country for Buddhism).  So by pure coincidence (our goal in Sri Lanka was simply to get a visa to India) we arrived just in time to honor the sacred tooth.

Our first priority was to get to the India visa office and submit our paperwork.  The India visa office lived up to the very poor standards that we have been warned against and expected.  They have taken first prize in making simple paperwork become completely unnecessarily complicated.  Elise and I were completely prepared, with our completed visa application forms (filled out online and printed before we arrived), photocopies of passports, and extra passport photos.  I won’t bore the blog readers with any details of the unnecessarily complicated and user-unfriendly application form on the web.  But the problem we had at the visa office is that Elise put her middle initial instead of her full middle name on her application.  Since it is in the computer it apparently could not be changed easily (despite the fact that computers should make this process simpler, not more complicated, and the guy we were submitting our passport to was working on a computer which we presume could have changed this minor error) so she had to go next door to a separate office and pay to have someone else completely re-enter her application.  This guy could not type,  was misspelling everything and had to be constantly corrected.   Next her passport photo background was deemed not “white enough” (you have to strain to tell any difference from mine) so she had to pay to have another taken which turned out to be a terrible faded photo much worse than the one we provided – but with an acceptably white background.  Next, after we received the Indian’s high standard stamp of approval for perfection in our application form (I must mention that the published India Visa information is inaccurate or misleading so they don’t live up to their own standard here apparently) we were asked to come back in ten days to pick up our visa.  The Indian officials worked feverously around the clock for those ten days, I’m sure, to make sure we got our visa so that we could finally enter the country and spend our money there.  All in all this whole thing was not that big of a deal compared to other horror stories we’ve heard about the Indian government…but it definitely meets our low standards of expectation of Indian bureaucracy.

In our case this was absolutely no big deal because Sri Lanka, it turns out, is an extremely nice place to spend a couple weeks waiting on paperwork.  Kandy is a very pleasant place situated in the hill country with temperate weather.  We enjoyed walks along the lake to town from our guesthouse, touring the Temple of the Tooth, the Buddhist museum, attending a traditional dance performance, and walks in the surrounding neighborhoods.  We attempted to watch the Perahera one night by mingling with the locals on the street side.  We stood on a corner being completely surrounded by masses of people to the point of feeling too claustrophobic to catch a glimpse of the elephants all dressed up in lights and dancers with torches and fire rings.  This was the first night of the festival, and we heard that it only gets more dramatic and more crowded towards the end on the night of the full moon.  The next day, probably more fun than watching the elephants in the parade, we had a good time watching the elephants be bathed on the street beside the temple.  The elephants are told by their handlers to lie down (an impressive process in itself) and then are sprayed with large water hoses and scrubbed with brushes.  The elephants definitely seem to enjoy the bath.  We stayed the Peace Haven Guesthouse in Kandy which is simply the home of Mr. and Mrs. Attapatu who are extremely friendly and hospitable.  It is a great place located up on the hill east of town with airy rooms and a pleasant balcony with territorial views.  The best part was the breakfast:  a huge plate of fruit including a quarter of a large, very sweet papaya, an egg any way you like it, endless toast with jam and butter, and a large pot of tea around a large dining table in the living room.  It was one of our best guesthouse experience of our trip and highly recommended to anyone passing through.

Our next destination was the east coast of Sri Lanka, Arugam Bay to try a little surfing.  Arugam Bay is located near a town called Potavil which was ravaged by the 2004 tsunami and afterwards part of the area in the violent conflict between the Sri Lankan government and the Tamil Tigers rebel group.  Now supposedly peaceful, it sounded like a good off-the-beaten-track place to visit.  It turns out that every “cool” surfer kid from Europe was there and that it apparently has become a fairly popular place – at least this time of year.    Nevertheless, we had a great time and this area of the island is a beautiful, sunny, with savannah-like vegetation that remind me of what I imagine Africa to be like .

Even  though most places in Arugam Bay were booked full - we lucked into a great guesthouse experience.  Another World Guesthouse is a small five-room place run by a 22-year-old named Sulfi who is an incredible cook.  With good company from other travelers, every night we would all sit around a large table, and Sulfi would cook and incredible family-style meal.  His coconut sambal and pumpkin curry ranked at the top of the list.  One night we had a large barbeque with fresh grilled fish.  No one dared bother going out to another restaurant for dinner.   When Sulfi was asked where he learned to cook so well, he responded that his mom taught him how.  One interesting observation:  we saw very few local women while we were in Arugam Bay.  The east coast of Sri Lanka is primarily Muslim, not Buddhist, and from the lack of their presence, it appears that the women do not leave the house.    

    

Another thing I was introduced to in Arugam Bay was the Indian sub-continent’s amazing barber shops.   I was in desperate need of a beard trimming and hair cut.  At barber shops in this part of the world, a trim not only includes the clipping and straight-razor shave, it includes an incredibly relaxing head massage afterwards.  The scalp is oiled down with some sort of spicy smelling scalp-oil and then the greasy, smelly barber magically turns into a beautiful man-masseuse, gently massaging the scalp and all major pressure points on the head.  It was glorious.  I have heard that is the standard for both India and Nepal so for the rest of our travels, I will be treating myself appropriately and should, as a result, have a much more professionally trimmed head and beard from here on out.

The main lesson learned  about surfing:  jump off of the surf board before you reach the shore.  Very important.  After a “road-rash” from being washed ashore while feeling like I was being put through a washing machine full of gritty, sharp sand – and afterwards fighting for a spot on the wave with the “cool” surfers (who were sometimes a little too grumpy when we got in each other’s way) – we decided that the next time we try will be somewhere where there is less people.  Sulfi’s little brother (who helps run the guesthouse) decided to “help” my road-rash by spraying perfume on it resulting in it stinging very badly.  He didn’t speak English so I’m not really sure what his thought process was, but maybe perfume has special healing powers for the Tamil culture of the east coast of Sri Lanka.

There is some good wildlife in the area too.  We spent one day with a rented motorbike searching for wild crocodiles and elephants.  We did see one crocodile, though we were not completely sure it was one until we got back and zoomed in on the photo.  With the bare eye, it looked like a rock in the middle of a pond and we were throwing rocks within centimeters of its head and it wouldn’t move.  No wild elephants were spotted, but we did hear one. 

After Arugam Bay we went back to Kandy to pick up our India visas and spent a few more comfortable nights at Peace Haven Guesthouse.   Then on August 13^th, we flew to Chennai, India to begin our six weeks here.   So far it is exactly what we expected – one of harsh contrasts:  one giant pile of dirty, smelly, filth that is also vibrant, colorful, fascinating, and friendly.  We will provide more details in the next blog post, but we’re “settled in” and very much enjoying it so far. 

The most important cultural lesson we have learned lately (this applies to both Sri Lanka and India): 

People have this unique way of showing acknowledgement by bobbling their heads.  It really can mean “yes”, “no”, “maybe”, or simply “acceptance” or “contentment,” or that they are enjoying your company.   The “head bobble” should not be mistakenly interpreted to mean “no” – it looks sometimes like shaking your head.   We learned when we tried to order a meal at a restaurant and thought our server was telling us that we could not have anything we ordered.          

Wedding Crashers

PHOTO ALBUM - Labuan Bajo (Flores) & Komodo Natl Park

PHOTO ALBUM - Bajawa & Moni (Flores), Bali

Brian left off our last blog just before we were about to go on a 29 hour journey from Kuta, Lombok to Labuanbajo, Flores.  It actually turned out to be even more painful than it sounded at the time.  We took off at 11:30 am from Kuta for a bus/ferry/bus/ferry island-hopping marathon.  Two broken down buses, a sleepy bus driver who did the right thing and pulled over on the side of the road for a nap, a missed shuttle bus, and a unexpected extra night sleeping on a bench on a 9-hour ferry with the noise of Indonesian TV shows blasting in our ears later, we were in Labuanbajo at 3 am, 39 hours after we left.  To top that off, arriving at that time of the morning, we found ourselves sitting on the side of the road waiting for someone to serve us coffee and let us in a guesthouse to wake up.  Lukily we found ourselves in some good company with some fellow travelers so we all sat around on the side of the road waiting and chatting. Around 5:45 am we found a hotel with rooms available and an owner that was awake. We dropped our bags, got some breakfast, and then went to sleep. About that time, all I could think of was that Flores better be worth it!!

I’m happy to say, Flores was definitely worth it. The day after we arrived in Labuanbajo, we went diving in Komodo National Park, another world-class dive site. We signed up for 3 dives with the Bajo Dive Club – two reef dives, and one manta ray dive.  The dive sites were about 2 hours away on a boat ride out toward Rinca and Komodo islands that passed by small islands lined with white sand beaches and covered with arid hilltops. It was a gorgeous trip out, and the return trip during sunset was even more spectacular. The diving was some of the best overall diving we’ve done on this trip. Some of the highlights were the manta ray that swam directly over me within a few meters, a couple shark and turtle sightings, some absolutely gargantuan fish, and watching the completely coordinated movements of a school of neon-blue fish trying to avoid becoming food for a handful of mackerels hunting.  These dive sites are known for some crazy currents which help create incredible marine life and also made for a little more challenging diving.

The next day, we chartered a boat out to Rinca island with Ian,  who we’d been hanging out with since we arrived in Bima, and an Australian couple also staying in our hotel.  Rinca island is one of only a two islands in the world that are home to the Komodo dragon, the largest lizard in the world.  Our purpose? Hunting for the elusive dragons (before they got to us!). It turned out to be pretty easy. Upon arrival to the island, we saw 7-8 dragons hanging out by the ranger’s kitchen, attracted by the smell of the food (and because it’s likely they’re fed scraps).  While impressive in size, I was not nearly as intimidated as I thought they’d be, probably because they didn’t appear too interested in anything but laying around in the shade waiting to be fed.   After a brief photo session, we headed out on a trek through Rinca island in search of more Komodo dragons. Walking over the island felt like we were in a scene from Jurassic Park.  You half expected velociraptors to come tearing at us out of the bushes. Not to worry, as our guides carried with them long sticks to fend off the dragons.  But  since these dragons can take down a full-grown buffalo we hoped not to have to find out if they were trained to use the meager sticks with any effectiveness to protect us.  We soon came across a stack of pig and buffalo skulls, which our young guides proudly informed us were “dragon carnage”.  This was followed by more sightings of dragon food, a wild boar and a large buffalo, which we were told could be devoured by 3 dragons in only 17 minutes.  We’re not sure if that is true, but nevertheless, Komodo dragons are still pretty bad-ass to take down such large prey. Their bite is poisonous, so a dragon will bite it’s prey, then stalk it for days until it becomes weak enough to become dinner.  During our hike we saw beautiful scenery, various dragon food, a few monkeys, but only one Komodo dragon. It was a baby dragon hanging out on a branch well off the ground. Not only are large mammals dragon food, but other dragons are dragon food. Komodos will live up in trees until they are about 3 years old, big enough to hold their own, because otherwise they’ll likely be eaten by mom or another hungry Komodo.  I was actually quite amazed how small they start out, considering how large they end up!

After our day with the Komodo dragons, we made the 10 hour journey to Bajawa, a small town set high in the hills, meaning cool days and downright chilly nights. We had big intentions of climbing our last volcano in Indonesia, Gunung Inerie, but those plans were thwarted as soon as we took our rented motorbike five minutes up the road to the trailhead. We’ve taken motorbikes on some pretty bad roads, but we decided this one just wasn’t worth it. Instead we rode around to the nearby villages, enjoying the scenery and unique houses in the villages. It was a relaxing couple days before heading on another 7 hours to the village of Moni, at the base of Kelimutu.

Kelimutu is famous volcano that last erupted in the 19^th century, leaving behind 3 lakes, 2 of which change colors with no warning. The color change is due to mineral deposits in the lakes; the lake that doesn’t change color is a bright turquoise color, while the other two lakes vary between blues, browns, greens, and red. The Moni people believe it’s a sacred place, and that the spirit  of the dead will go into one of the three lakes. As all good things in Indonesia seem to happen at sunrise, we dragged ourselves out of bed for a 4:30 am motorbike ride to the parking area, a 20 minute walk from the summit of Kelimutu, where we warmed up with a cup of ginger coffee sold by a man who threatened “no coffee, no sunrise” before making our way up to the summit (which despite our coffee purchase, was covered in clouds).  However, the clouds cleared as the sun rose, and the lakes suddenly appeared. The biggest lake was a gorgeous turquoise, the lake next too it almost the same color, and the third lake a dark green. Interestingly, our Lonely Planet guidebook, published in 2010, describes the lakes as turquoise, brown, and red….goes to show how drastic a change you can see.  We walked the 14 km down the mountain, which was not nearly as pleasant as described in the guidebook, probably because we missed the shortcut which would’ve cut 6 km off the trip and taken us down a dirt trail through farmland and villages, rather than a knee pounding paved road. We took a walk up the shortcut a couple days later to see what we missed (very nice scenery and villages), and realized how much less sore we would’ve been had we taken it!

Later that night, we crashed our first wedding, so to speak. Technically, we were invited by a lady who lived next door to our homestay, Jenny, and the wedding was also mentioned to us by multiple people since we’d been to Moni. From what I can tell about weddings in the villages of SE Asia, there’s no invite list, anyone who wants to show up can. After 8 months of traveling, I have very few clothes left that look nice enough for a wedding, so Jenny dressed up myself and another girl staying at our homestay, Abby,  in traditional wedding apparel – ikat sarong, a nice blouse, earrings, handbag, and some pretty hideous lipstick.  Brian, myself, Abby, and Chris, also from our homestay, hopped on motorcycle taxis (ojeks) to get a ride to the party. This was a challenge in a floor length sarong; they originally wanted the girls to sit sidesaddle on the bikes, but I think the fear in our faces convinced them we should straddle the bikes. So we hiked up our sarongs and hopped on, which resulted in a rather harlot look, at least judging by Jenny’s auntie’s frantic yanking on my sarong to get it to cover more of my legs for the ride. We arrived to the big event, which was attended by at least 300-400 people by the time we arrived. Everyone lines up to greet the bride and groom, who were on display on a platform at the front of the room the entire night. Everyone drops a present of money into a box on the way up, which is supposed to help pay for the wedding feast – in this case, two buffalo were slaughtered to feed the masses, which turned out to not be enough (making us feel a little bad that we partook in the meal).

Elise and her dance partners

There was a cutting of the cake, similar to the American wedding tradition, except here the bride and groom hand out pieces of cake to a line of 7 or 8 couples (I think they were probably parents and brothers and sisters), and everyone shoved cake into each other’s faces. There were some speeches, and eventually the dancing started. They started out with some traditional local dances, which they were quite excited to teach us. It reminded me of line dancing in that there was a very specific pattern that took me a while to pick up, but I got there eventually (which I still cannot say for line dancing!). After a few rounds of traditional dances, they broke out some dance music I think I’ve even heard back home, which drew all the young people onto the dance floor. Being the only tourists, our presence definitely attracted a crowd. There was never a shortage of people to dance with, and I pretty much had a group of 12 or 13 year old boys with me most of the night.

You know how it seems like at most wholesome family events, there’s always a group of guys that have snuck a cooler of beer that they stand around drinking behind a truck at every stolen opportunity? The equivalent in Indonesia is a group of men drinking arak, locally brewed rice whisky, at the back of the room, and they were quite excited to grab the tourists and pull us into their little drinking party. We’d tried arak at a restaurant in Bajawa, although it was mixed with honey and lemon, which was quite a tasty cocktail. However, the arak they were serving us that night looked like the petrol they sell in the water bottles along the side of the road, and I doubt it tasted much different.  They were especially interested in getting the single girl, Abby, as drunk as they could, given the size of arak shots they were giving her.  After about round 3 of arak, we decided it would be best to get back on the dance floor before they pushed more on us.  We started getting tired around 10 pm or so (having woken up at 4 am  for the sunrise that day), but being the most noticeable people in the crowd, it took a good hour to make our way out of the wedding party. A gazillion pictures later, Abby and I hopped on a couple motorbikes and Brian and Chris took the long walk home under an amazingly starry night.

The rest of our time in Moni was spent doing what we seem do best on this trip – chillaxin’. Moni has a pretty temperate climate and beautiful scenery, which made for nice walks and great sleeping weather.  Our next door neighbor Jenny took good care of us – we got home-cooked meals, massages, and a good deal (we hope) on some ikat sarongs. We had some nice evenings talking to her and auntie, who’s still looking quite good for 75. Like everyone else we’ve met, she was quite shocked to hear we had no kids after 5 years of marriage. She was also quite shocked to hear my parents didn’t do their part in populating the earth, as I only have 1 brother. I actually saw her mouth drop open.  Brian’s parents, who brought 4 children into the world, were clearly more of the norm in her eyes.

All good things must come to an end, and a couple days ago we took a flight from Ende, a city about an hour and a half from Moni, to Bali. We spent two nights on Kuta beach, which was like a reverse culture shock – the place is covered with all the normal fast food joints, high end shopping, Starbucks, and stores that sold anything else you might possibly miss from back home. We enjoyed our nicest room in all of Indonesia – there was almost a hot water shower – and caught up on errands. At the end of our last day we made it onto the beach checked out some surfers - some really good, some not so good. Brian has now been inspired to try surfing before we get back home…hopefully in Sri Lanka. We flew into Kuala Lumpur this morning and are staying in a ridiculously expensive (by our standards) hotel near the airport since we have another early morning flight to Sri Lanka tomorrow.  Admittedly, we are enjoying the relative luxury here (super-hot, high water pressure shower, towels, pool), especially given it may be the last luxuries we see for awhile as we head into Sri Lanka and India!  We’re excited about Sri Lanka…just wish us luck on getting our India visa there!

Java Safety Hazards & Lombok Paradise

PHOTO ALBUM - Java

PHOTO ALBUM - Lombok

We knew that Jakarta would not have much to interest us.  But because of the way Indonesia’s domestic flight schedules work, there was no great way to avoid it coming from Sumatra.  We also needed to extend our visas so that we could stay longer than 30 days in the country, so we made the stop.  Jakarta (President Barack Obama’s childhood home for four years – of which we were reminded of by many proud Jakartans as soon as they found out we are Americans)  is a sprawling, busy, hot, and muggy metropolis.  Elise and I unfortunately ended up in an un-air-conditioned hotel room that was infested with mosquitoes so it was definitely not a pleasant stay.  Our first stop was a visit to the immigration office.  The visa extension process is very new in Indonesia (previously not allowed) but word on the street was that it is very easy and that it might only take one day if you have all the necessary paperwork prepared:  copies of passport, visa, and departure card, extra passport photos, proof of airfare to depart the country, and some cash.  So armed with that stuff, we showed up to a typical government’s bureaucratic mess hoping for the best:  to get our visa extensions in one day and get the heck out of Jakarta.  Here was the process:

1.       Go in building and get directed upstairs to 3^rd floor.

2.       Find first window (of approximately six windows total) and ask where to go.

3.       Go to window #3. 

4.       Some guy checks to make sure we have all of the copies and documents we need.  He then directs us back to window #1.

5.       Window #1 directs us to window #2 where we are asked to buy a red folder (~$1.20) so that we have a place to put all of our papers and visa extension application form.

6.       Fill out visa extension application form.

7.       Go back to window #3 and give our file to the first guy.  Note:  the process to this point has taken about 10 minutes.  We were then asked to take a seat and wait.

8.       We did not know what was next and no one was there to explain anything, but we were cautiously optimistic that this was the most smoothly run government-created process that we had ever seen.  It seemed promising that we might get  this extension that day. 

9.       We were wrong.  Our entire role for the next three hours was to sit in the waiting room and wait.  Every once in a while we were called upon to become the Immigration Office’s personal office lacky and shuttle our red file from one side of the hall to the other as needed.  We would be called, handed our red file, then told to take it to window # whatever-was-next in no obvious order.

10.   Finally it appeared that everything was in order and we were asked to take a form and go downstairs to the cashier to pay the ~$28 per person required. 

11.   Upon payment we were then directed to go back upstairs and resubmit our file to the original guy at window #3.  At this point, though we were frustrated, we still thought we would walk out with our stamped passports that day!

12.   Wrong.  We were informed that we had to come back the next day at 10am to pick up our passports then.  Are they kidding!?  What else was there to do other than put the stamp in the passport?

Despite the fact that we had to stay one more night in the mosquito-infested room and pay for an additional taxi fare to/from the immigration office, the fact that this only took two days actually was easy and fast compared to other countries (we had to wait five business days in Vietnam).  After finally picking up our passports, we spent the day at the Indonesia Museum of Natural History, which was very nice and had many interesting exhibits (worth noting is the display of penis gourds used by tribes in Papua).    We then boarded an overnight train to Yogyakarta.

Yogyakarta is a cultural destination in the center of Java that sits in the shadow of Mt. Merapi –one of Indonesia’s most active volcanoes, and the volcano that made international headlines last November when it erupted and forced the evacuation of large numbers of people.  Nearby Yogyakarta is the impressive tenth century Borobudor Temple to which we visited for sunrise, requiring a painful 4am departure.  Our experience at the temple was similar to our experiences at other tourist attractions in Indonesia – we’re stopped every 10 minutes to practice English with some high school or college students, which is then followed up by an extensive photo session.  On the way back from the temple, we passed through an area that was undergoing clean-up and major excavation  from all the ash and rock from the Merapi eruption in November. The level of ash that had fallen was pretty amazing, given how far away we were from the volcano – they were digging out a road that had been buried with at least 20 feet of debris.

Our challenge in Yogyakarta was that not only is it high season for international tourists, but the Indonesians were on summer holiday.  Hotels and guesthouses were full, and it seemed like everyone and their mother was in Yogyakarta shopping for the holiday.  We scored a simple but cramped room, bought some batik artwork, saw the sights, and planned to get ourselves out of the hustle and bustle after two nights.  Our cultural experience was attending a shadow-puppet show.  Maybe it was my western and Americanized sense of taste that does not allow me to appreciate such pieces of fine artistic talent, but the show didn’t do much for me.  We have noticed that it seems that Asians like movies that have plenty of violence.  If people are shooting, stabbing, maiming, wrecking, or exploding things or people, the movie will capture the attention of the general Asian population regardless of the quality of the plot.   The shadow puppet show was not much different from what I could tell:  puppets swinging swords, yelling, and cutting off each other’s heads to the tune of endless noise from the banging of bongo drums and xylophones.  I blame Elise for getting us into that torturous hour and a half of the puppet show.

Our next dilemma was where to go next.  We had our sights set on visiting Mt. Bromo, an impressive volcano in eastern Java.  But our timing was not good as we would be arriving on a Friday night on the last weekend of the Indonesian holiday.  So we made a stop in Malang to see what it was all about and kill a day so we would fight any crowds at Bromo.  Turns out Malang is a very clean, nice university town full of trendy coffee shops and we enjoyed it.        

Mt. Bromo is nothing but spectacular.  It is actually several volcanoes within a gigantic one, the Tenggar cauldera, viewed from across a vast lunar-like landscape, and Bromo is in a constant state of eruption.  The high elevation was a very nice change from the lowland heat and we very much enjoyed being under heavy blankets with cold nights.  We arrived early afternoon and decided we would not waste any time to go on our first hike to climb Mt. Bromo itself.  What neither Elise or I realized was that the volcano we could see that was currently erupting was Mt. Bromo (as opposed to the nearby dormant ones).  Surely they wouldn’t let us climb it while it is erupting?  Well, apparently the acceptance of risk by the local authorities or whoever is in charge differs vastly from that in our lawsuit-based society back home, because you can go right up to the edge and jump in the volcano if you really want to.  Of course we enjoyed every minute of our first up-close encounter of an erupting volcano.  With scarves shielding our faces from the blowing ash and volcanic dust (full of who-knows-what carcinogens or poisonous materials) we struggled up what was once a stairway now buried in several feet of ash to a destroyed viewing platform on the rim of the volcano and looked down into the volcanoes guts.  We later found out that the wikitravel.org site for Mt. Bromo has the following warning posted:  WARNING: Potential for further eruption of Tenggar caldera in the Mount Bromo volcano complex.  It erupted fairly significantly a few months ago.  Hmmm…  The next morning, we woke up at 3am for a two hour hike to Mt. Penenjakan to see the sunrise over the whole surreal Tenggar cauldera landscape with Mt. Senaru (Java’s highest volcano) in the distance .  Unbelievable.  The pictures speak for themselves.

Our next destination was the Ijen Plateau.  To avoid purchasing an overpriced tour of Ijen, we elected to find our way there on our own which was going to require several bus transfers.  We found ourselves stranded in Bondowoso because there was no afternoon mini-bus to the next village, Sempol.  There was another couple from the Czech Republic with us so we all checked into a hotel and planned to leave the next day.  Teaming up with the Czech couple, we were able to book a private car through to Ijen that would allow us to hike to the viewpoints and then drop us off afterwards at the Bali ferry terminal, a nice convenience.  This meant another 3am wake-up, but there would be some nice scenery waiting.  The Ijen attraction is more than the scenery though.  The draw is also viewing a sulfur mine – located in the volcanic crater at the edge of a turquoise lake that warms and bubbles with an increase in volcanic activity - and watching the miners carry large loads of sulfur down the mountain.   The miners go about carrying their absurdly large loads (80kg up to 100kg) on bamboo-wicker baskets balanced precariously on their shoulders, some walking barefoot.  If you want to take a picture of them they ask for money or cigarettes in return.  Honestly, while I was impressed with the strength required and the hard work these 400 miners go through every day, it was somewhat disturbing that in this day and age that people are subjecting themselves or forced to subject themselves to that sort of torture – not to mention the health and safety problems associated with carrying heavy loads and breathing sulfur fumes.  There could have easily been a train of horses or mules that carry the loads and even a simple cable-car to haul sulfur up out of the crater.  It seemed to me that at least part of the reason this is still going on is because of the tourist draw.  It felt sort of like a human zoo.  I also had a conversation with one of the locals and apparently these guys make about 100,000 rupiah per day ($12) if they carry two 80kg (176 lb.) loads.  That is a lot more than any other income opportunity out there available to them (farming, selling goods at the market) so it keeps going on.  While it doesn’t seem right, these guys need the job and income so it was an interesting economical dilemma that hit home while watching it.  Of course, the scenery here was also amazing and Indonesia continues to awe us with its natural beauty. 

The rest of the day after Ijen was spent crossing the Bali Straight by ferry, leaving Java and arriving on the island of Bali.  Since Bali is the international tourist destination in Indonesia and a great place for us to come back to on a shorter vacation, we are not spending much time there this trip – our time is limited and there is so much else we want to see before we have to leave the country.   We spent the night in Dempasar and jumped on a bus the next morning for another ferry terminal heading farther east, a four-hour ferry ride across the Bali Sea to the island of Lombok.  At this point after the bureaucracy in Jakarta, the holiday crowds in Yogyakarta, the time-consuming travel required to visit Mt. Bromo and Ijen, the early morning sunrise activities, and the long ferry crossings and bus travel, we were getting tired.  Time for several days on a good beach.  We have spent four days on Kuta Beach on the southern end of Lombok and it has been another paradise.  Perfect weather, white sand, turquoise water.  Pantai Segar and Tanjung Aan beaches near Kuta in our opinion rank on par with “The Perfect Beach” in Burma we wrote about earlier in our blog.  There are surf breaks everywhere - assuming you know how to surf and find the good conditions - and we could probably spend a month just on Lombok.  We still cannot believe that we took one year off and we still are pressed and have to prioritize our time!!  We toyed with the idea of just staying put on Lombok for our last two weeks in Indonesia, but rumor has it that the island of Flores has a kind of beauty that we haven’t seen even yet.   So Lombok and learning to surf will have to wait.  On to Flores via an island-hopping 29-hour bus/ferry/bus/ferry ride.  Also nearby:  Komodo and Rinca islands, home to the Komodo dragons.  That’s what’s next.

We’re doing well and are healthy…and the travel “gas tank” is still plenty full.

Welcome to the Jungle

PHOTO ALBUM - Bukit Lawang, Banda Aceh, & Pulau Weh

PHOTO ALBUM - Bukit Lawang (Wild Orangutans)

Brian and I continued our adventures in Sumatra with a jungle trek in Gunung Leuser National Park in Bukit Lawang to hopefully catch a glimpse of one of the 7000 wild orangutans that live there.  Wild orangutans can only be found in Indonesia, on Sumatra or Borneo, and the jungle trek in Bukit Lawang is one of the most popular ways to see them. The trek did not disappoint.  A couple hours into the trek, we saw a huge male orangutan swinging through the trees.  He settled into a tree for awhile and allowed us to get pretty close to him for some great close-ups.  He was really fascinating to watch – he had a very expressive face, and whenever he moved from tree limb to tree limb, the branches would swing so low, and just when you think it’s about to break he’s already onto the next one.  Soon after the encounter with the big male, we came across a female with her baby.  The mom was just hanging out in a tree, and the baby was just swinging and climbing around on the branches all around her.  We probably got within 15 feet or so of the mom and baby, which I couldn’t believe she allowed us to do. Clearly, they are used to seeing trekkers around. We stayed there for 15-20 minutes and just watched the baby orangutan play on the branches. The mom didn’t seem to concerned with our presence, although when her baby got a little too close to use she would grab its hand and pull it back nearer to her.  It was an incredible experience, and it still makes me smile when I think about it.

Our final orangutan encounter was with the infamous Mina and her baby. We were warned about Mina before we started the trek, she was a “naughty monkey” who always tried to steal backpacks in hopes of some free food.  Sure enough, as we were sitting on a log eating our lunch, an orangutan with a baby on her back came lumbering up the trail. All the guides yell “Mina” in the same tone you would use with a child about to stick his hand in the cookie jar when he thinks your back is turned. They all recognize her because she is the only orangutan that moves over ground rather than through the trees.  They hurried us trekkers up the trail a little ways and handed her a pineapple to keep her away from all of us. She sat on our log and ate her pineapple while we watched from a safe distance and tried to get as many pictures as we could, but as soon as she finished, she got up and started moving toward us again. This resulted in a gift of a couple bananas from the guide. This appeased her for awhile, then she got up and started moving toward us yet again, resulting in more bananas for Mina. This went on until the guide exhausted his supply of bananas, which she seemed to recognize, because as soon as there were no more bananas, she headed back down the trail the same way she came.  Very smart ape…she’s got the guides wrapped around her little finger (or opposable thumb, if you wish).

Besides the orangutans, we also a huge group of macaques, a couple elusive gibbons (all from a good distance, as they’re pretty shy around people), a giant squirrel, a huge hornbill, and a monitor lizard. Definitely a good day’s work. The evening was good camping fun – good food, fun games, and a big group of smelly people sleeping together under a plastic tarp. The next day was pretty chilled out – we went swimming in a waterfall after breakfast,  then rafted back to the village after the “second breakfast”.  The “raft” was about 5 inner tubes tied together,  and we sat 2 to a tube, with a guide in the front and the back. There were actually some pretty decent rapids, and although the guides were good at navigating them, we did manage to hit a rock which deflated Brian’s and my tube. No problem, this had clearly happened before, and the guides got the “raft” (and us) rearranged quite quickly for the remainder of the ride.

Although we were back at our bungalow that afternoon, our monkey adventures were not over. We were reading on our balcony, watching all the monkeys playing in the trees nearby and on the lawn, when we suddenly noticed a couple of them had decided to join us. They were sitting by the windows of our bedroom, poking their arms inside the room (thinking we probably had food in there). We start yelling at them, and I go inside to close the windows. I went back on the balcony, looked around the corner, one of the monkeys saw me, and then started moving toward the balcony.  I freaked out and ran back inside, where I was admonished by Brian for leaving the camera and the computer and the water bottles out on the balcony. So we go back out to reclaim our stuff before the monkey did.  He was sitting awful close to us on the rail, and Brian tried the “assert yourself as the alpha male” technique you might use on an aggressive dog. Turns out the monkeys aren’t so easily intimidated, and this one actually started to charge at Brian, who in turn threw the hammock at it, and it ran off.  They then proceeded to jump around and make a lot of noise on our roof for awhile, but that was the last we saw of them.  However, they did take their revenge…I am now minus one pair of underwear that was hanging to dry outside our bungalow. (I can’t say for sure it was the monkeys, but there wasn’t any wind, and I don’t know what person would want to steal someone else’s underwear).

We met up with our trekking group for expensive Indonesian beers later that evening, which ended up being an absolute riot. The Indonesians love music, and it wasn’t long before all the locals hanging out at the restaurant broke out the guitars and bongos and started singing. They play a lot of local music which is fun to listen to – it’s the kind of music that you find yourself dancing to while you’re sitting and listening without even realizing it. They mix in a lot of songs from the western world for the tourists, though, and they had the entire restaurant singing along to John Denver and Jason Mraz, a little “La Bamba”, a little Blind Melon, and even some James Blunt.  My personal favorite was the song they adapted to the tune of “Jingle Bells” –

Jungle Trek

Jungle Trek

In Bukit Lawang

See the monkeys

See the birds

See orangutan, Hey!

There’s more, but I can only remember the chorus.  With their accent, they manage to make “Lawang” (La-wong) rhyme with “orangutan” .  It was fun night, and we stayed out late enough that we decided to stick around one more day in Bukit Lawang in order to put off our night bus to Banda Aceh for one more day. The next day we went to the orangutan feeding at the rehabilitation center, where they are preparing orangutans to be released back into the wild. They provide milk and bananas twice day, which is considered a pretty bland diet, in order to encourage the orangutans to forage for their own food. Although the feeding was a bit disappointing after having seen the orangutans so close in the wild, it was still fun to watch them swing in from the jungle to the feeding platform, and drink their milk from cups and climb around the trees (baby orangutans appear to have about the same attention span as a human toddler). That evening we enjoyed dinner and another concert involving guitars and bongos at our guesthouse, although this was a little less raucous and more of a ‘coffeehouse’ setting…quite enjoyable all the same.  

The next day we hopped on a bus to Binjai, where we caught one of the most uncomfortable night busses yet to Banda Aceh. We had planned to extend our visa in Banda Aceh before taking a ferry over to Pulau Weh for some scuba diving. However, upon checking into our hotel, we noticed more than an expected number of policeman with some really big guns roaming around the hotel. We didn’t think much of it, until we headed to the immigration office and saw the street it was on was blocked to traffic (and guarded by more of the policeman with big guns). Then the closer got, the more yelling and chanting we heard, and it soon became apparent that there was a demonstration going on very close the immigration office.  We later found out it was a political rally for a change in governor, but we still figured it might be best not to put ourselves in the middle of it and to just wait on the visa extension until we got in Jakarta. This left us with an afternoon in Banda Aceh, which was one of the hardest hit areas from the 2004 tsunami - over 140,000 people died. We missed some of the wreckage sites (there’s a boat on a house, and a huge ship that got washed inland), but we did check out the Tsunami Museum, which is in a really architecturally impressive building. Most of the exhibits related to the actual tsunami in 2004 did not have English subtitles, but there was a lot of educational exhibits (in Indonesian and English) on the geology involving tsunamis and volcanoes. Indonesia is just a hotbed of earthquake and volcanic activity, it’s amazing you don’t hear about even more major natural disasters here. We also saw (from the outside) the Mesjid Raya Baiturrahman mosque, which is a huge, beautiful mosque that was left intact after the tsunami (despite a great amount of destruction surrounding it). I will admit, although the Buddhist temples are beautiful, after 6 months of seeing them, the mosques are a nice change of pace.  I love listening to the prayers here, also…prayer time is 5 times a day, and they appear to sing them over a PA system for all to hear…it’s truly a beautiful sound.

After our brief stop in Banda Aceh we took the ferry to Pulau Weh, where we settled ourselves on Iboih Beach.  Pulau Weh is supposed to be one of those hidden treasures in the scuba diving world, and it’s not hard to see why – just looking down at the Indian Ocean from our bungalow, the water is turquoise and crystal clear. We dove with Rubiah Tirta divers, a pretty laid-back operation with all Indonesian guides, which was pretty cool (all the dives we’ve done in Thailand have had Australian or Western guides). We celebrated my 31^st birthday with 2 dives. The morning dive was the better of the two, with lots of colorful fish, moray eels, coral, and black-tip shark sighting. The afternoon dive was broken into two parts; the first was a tugboat wreck, which was alright (the wreck dive we did in Phuket, Thailand was more interesting), and the second part was an underwater volcano. There were tiny holes in the bottom surface of the ocean which bubbled up hot, sulfuric water.  Sitting back at a distance, it looked like hundreds of lines of bubbles floating up toward the surface, it was quite a stunning visual.  You could hover over some of the larger holes and it felt like you were in a hot tub.  However, the best dive we did was this morning. It was a pinnacle dive they call The Canyon, and it rivaled the beauty of Richlieu Rock in the Similan Islands, Thailand we dove five years ago. We didn’t see any big sharks or turtles today, but the coral formations were incredible – as we swam through around large rock formations we saw huge sea fans, tons of color, and fish everywhere darting in and out.

Tomorrow we take a flight from Banda Aceh to Jakarta, and will attempt to make across Java by land. We’re a bit sad to leave Sumatra (which has been incredible) - we hope the rest of Indonesia is this nice!

Paradise

PHOTO ALBUM - Palau Penang (Malaysia)

PHOTO ALBUM - Berastagi and Danau Toba

Our path from Thailand to Indonesia was to consist of a train ride from Bangkok to Butterworth, Malaysia, where we’d take a ferry to Penang Island, spend a couple days on the island, then take another ferry to Sumatra. There were only two uncomfortable issues we ran into on the 24-hour train ride from Bangkok to Butterworth, Malaysia.  We woke up in our comfortable bunks after a fairly good night of sleep except for the fact that the air conditioning was running full-blast and the place felt like a refrigerator.  I faired ok, but Elise remains temperature-challenged and froze.  That was issue #1.   Issue #2:  After a not so tasty and overpriced dinner on the train the night before, we elected to not purchase the overpriced breakfast and otherwise rely on the vendors roaming the train.  Little did we know that after the last stop in Hat Yai, Thailand after a lone fried chicken vendor passed through (for some reason fried chicken didn’t sound that good at 6:30am), the dining car would be disconnected after crossing the Malaysian border, and no more vendors would come aboard the train. So after we passed through the normal border check and received our passport stamps, we had to fast for the rest of the morning until the early afternoon.  If I could describe Elise(while travelling) as an animal, she would be a squirrel.  This is because before every train or bus ride, she is so fearful that there will not be food available when she is hungry that she goes rummaging through convenience stores to stock up on snacks just in case.  I give her a lot of grief for this because up until this point  because there is so much available food in southeast Asia, that all you have to do is stop when you’re hungry, turn left or right, and there will be food to purchase in some form (convenience stores, roadside street vendors, fruit stands, restaurants…everywhere).  But this time was different and next time I will not say anything when the squirrel wants to bury a lot more nuts for a train or bus ride.

Immediately after crossing the Malaysia border, we could clearly see that we left the land of Buddha and entered one of Islam.  Over the landscape we could see the domed tops of many Mosques and many women wear the head coverings.  We arrived in Butterworth about 24-hours after we left Bangkok, quickly raided the only street stand between the train and ferry terminal for food, then boarded the passenger ferry to Georgetown.  Georgetown is on the island of Penang and a major trading port back in the British Colonial days with quite a bit of history.  It has always been a place that has a good melting pot of cultures:  ethnic  Chinese, Indian, Malay, Europeans.  It turns out this means interesting architecture, high standard of living, and absolutely incredible food.  We received a free flyer explaining many types of local food and where to find them.  The streets were lined with vendors so basically we could graze all day tasting unbelievable food for dirt cheap prices. Our mouths are still watering thinking about all the fried noodle dishes and soups, Chinese steamed buns filled with savory veggies and meat, and cendol, this funky dessert made with shaved ice, beans (like kidney beans), green jellies, and coconut milk. We stayed in Chinatown, which also happens to be very near “Little India”, where one night we splurged on an large Indian meal of Chapati and several curries recommended by our friendly servers.  Everyone there is fully fluent in English so it was very easy to get around. 

We hiked to the top of Penang Hill for some exercise and good views, and did a walking tour of Georgetown.   On the walking tour we decided to visit a local Mosque and were greeted by a very friendly man who gave us a free tour.  He explained some of the basic principles of Islam and explained how it is an extension of Christianity (we are all descendents from Adam; and Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed are considered prophets of God), and of course stressed that Islam is intended to be a peaceful and non-discriminating religion which has billions of members – not a religion like it is practiced by the relatively smaller group of fanatics in the world who have caused friction with Western countries.  We were given a heartfelt invitation to learn more about Islam, even to join, and were presented a copy of an English translation of the Quran.  This was much like any invitation I have heard to join any Christian church.  It is easy to be lost in the stereotypes caused by negative media and violence in the world so it was nice to have this very open, friendly, and educational experience.  My only complaint about Muslim countries so far:  the beer is three or more times the cost of the rest of Southeast Asia.  In Malaysia, it is very heavily taxed and four to five times pricier.    

Our goal on this trip is to travel on the ground (by bus, train, or boat) as much as possible.  Not only is airfare generally more expensive, staying on the ground provides more interesting cultural experiences and we see a lot more of the countryside.  So the reason we visited Penang (other than the food) was that it is a path to Northern Sumatra, Indonesia.  There used to be a ferry from Penang to Medan but we were hearing rumors that it had recently been cancelled.   We confirmed that this was the case (it appears that high gas prices finally caught up and made flying a more economical option).  So we booked a cheap flight on a budget airline and flew into Medan, Indonesia.     

Medan is a dirty, crowded city with not much to see.  So we crashed at a guesthouse one night and got out of town immediately the next day.  After more than a month in steamy, hot weather, we were anxious to get somewhere cooler so our first destination in Indonesia was Berastagi.  In the highlands of North Sumatra, it is pleasantly cool -   comfortable during the day and  jackets needed at night.  There are two nearby volcanoes and we figured there would be no better way to start a visit to Indonesia than to climb one of the thousands of volcanoes in this country, the most seismically active area of the world.  We climbed Mt. Sibayak (2094 m) and enjoyed sunny weather, incredible landscape views, and close-up looks at the many steam vents as the mountain is venting a sulfur-smelling mixture constantly.  On the way down we stopped at hot springs which was very near a geothermal power plant -  both of course fueled by the volcano.  The climb was very nice and a nice change from the recent super-muggy hiking we had been doing in Laos and Malaysia.  We are also finding out that the people of Sumatra are some of the most friendly and helpful we have encountered yet.  There are very few tourists and we feel like celebrities walking down the streets with all the hellos and being stopped constantly for pictures.

Next we moved on to Danau Toba (Lake Toba).  We originally planned to stay three nights but that turned into a week because it is paradise.  If there is a place on this planet designed for Elise and I, it is Lake Toba.  This gigantic turquoise-blue fresh water lake was formed by an enormous sunken ancient volcano caldron.  It is about 3000 feet above sea level which means low humidity and perfect warm temperatures that I would describe much like the summer in Colorado or eastern Washington.  Surrounded by mountains and littered with coconut palms, there is a huge island in the middle of the lake which is the size of Singapore.  We had a lakeside room for slightly less than $6 per night with a balcony overlooking the lake.  We sleep perfectly each night listening to the wind-driven waves crash into the shore.  For us it is like the perfect beach destination without the negative stuff that comes with it:  humidity, the dirty feeling of salt water caked to your skin, sand dragged into your room.  The people are extremely friendly.  We have spent the days relaxing, motor biking the beautiful scenery around the island, visiting and soaking in the nearby hot springs, swimming, reading, and hanging out with the friendly staff who play guitar around the campfire at night. 

The first motorbike ride we took was an adventure around the island.  We found out this is an exhausting trip that takes all day over some pretty crappy roads (10am to 6:30pm with only a stop for lunch and a few photo breaks and short rests).  However the scenery is amazing and it was well worth the trip.   We were hit by an afternoon rain storm and had to duck quickly into the nearest roadside shop where the locals were waving at us to come in.  While trying to park the motorbike, I lost traction in the loose dirt and we took a spill falling over in front of the many bystanders.  After hearing loud gasps and chattering in Indonesian (probably talking about the idiot westerners who cannot ride a motorbike) we picked up the bike and embarrassingly expressed that we were ok and that there was no harm done (to us or the bike).  We then were wholeheartedly welcomed in to sit out the rain with a group of mostly old men who were playing chess and having a few drinks of the local brew which in English is called “jungle juice.”  The best I can tell, it is a liquid that is naturally alcoholic and harvested directly from palm trees.  Very little English was spoken with this group, but our presence and participation in drinking the jungle juice appeared to be much appreciated.  One old man told Elise that she is very beautiful.  Of course I agree, but for some reason my response was, “jungle juice make everyone beautiful!”  This must have translated fairly well because they thought  that was pretty funny.  The man who told Elise she was beautiful even wanted to buy our drinks and would not let us pay!  The rain stopped and we continued on barely making our way back to the guesthouse before dark.            

Our favorite restaurant is Joe’s Café, just down the street from our guesthouse (Mas Cottages), where we have been enjoying home-cooked meals (Indonesian-style taco smothered in guacamole, gado-gado, a very good chicken curry, and barbeque wild pork) and great conversation with Joe and his family.  We continue to be stopped by locals and asked to pose for photographs or practice conversing in English.  The schools from Medan and surrounding villages are sending kids on field trips to Lake Toba with an assignment.  The kids are to strike up conversation with tourists to practice English.  We were asked to sign sheets with our impression of how well they did and any recommendations obviously to prove that they actually did the homework.  This was fun at first but also became overwhelming and time consuming one day because there seemed to be hundreds of kids and Elise and I were the only tourists walking the street.  Great idea by the teachers though.  Apparently Lake Toba had a lot more tourists in the mid-nineties, but has very few these days.  Rumor has it that there used to be some airline flights that brought tourists to Medan from Malaysia or even Europe that no longer exist.  Whatever the case, in my opinion Lake Toba is a completely underdeveloped and underutilized tourist destination.  In other words:   Perfect.

It is time for an update on the overall logistics plan for the remainder of our trip.  As Elise mentioned in the previous blog post, we are now over half way through the year and having trouble fitting everything in we want to do.  We continue to be amazed at the amount of time we spend  planning, re-planning, prioritizing, cramming, adding, deleting, and engineering this trip to maximize the value of this trip to us and fit in as much as possible.  Before we left, we were questioned by many people back home about the duration.  “What are you going to do in Asia for a whole year?” and “If you are planning a whole year, why are you just staying in Asia and not seeing the more of the world?” were a few examples of questions we were asked.  I can now honestly say that two years might not be enough to see our original planned line-up of countries (Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Indonesia, China/Tibet, India, and Nepal).  We, of course, added Myanmar (Burma) to the line-up back in February which compressed our schedule.  But now that we have arrived in Indonesia and see what it is like and realize how large it is, we had to make some tough choices.  While we can technically still afford one month in each of Indonesia, China, and India, still hold on to seven weeks in Nepal, and be back in the US for Thanksgiving, that scenario just feels too tight.  Indonesia, China, and India are all very large countries, and only a month in each would not do them justice.  After such great experiences so far in Indonesia, we know we want to stay longer.  We also know China will be more expensive and somewhat of a hassle for us because there’s not a great way to get into India without another flight or a long journey overland through Tibet to get to Kathmandu, where we could get an India visa and then travel overland into India. While we would love to see Tibet (and still possibly can via an excursion to/from Nepal), we figure without spending a lot on flights, we’d use up half our visa to get in and out of Lhasa, and wouldn’t see much else of China. India is a must-see for us on this trip.  Because of these reasons, China has been on the bubble for the entire trip - in and out of our planned itinerary.  We finally decided any visit to China for us will have to wait until another time.  It also appears we can solve the getting-the-India-visa problem by going first to Sri Lanka and getting it there.  So, here is the new plan:  six weeks in Indonesia, two weeks in Sri Lanka, six weeks in India, seven in Nepal.  Top that off with a week on a beach (or maybe another visit to Lake Toba, Indonesia) on the way home  to unwind - and then it will be Thanksgiving and time to visit family at home.  That is the plan for now – still subject to change pending whatever logistical challenges we run into, or something better we dream up along the way.