Adventures in Eating

This week I asked for chocolate milk... cold. I got a Coke. Yesterday I asked for a lassi, got a rootbeer. When asked for the soups du jour, my server rattled off a list of sounds that could have been in English, Malay or Pashtu for all I knew. I thought I heard the word "beef" in the last choice, I mumbled it back to him, trying to imitate his pronunciation.

Beef tongue soup... wonderful. But hey, I'm a traveler, I'm adventurous, I'm open to these things so I dug right in. It's not horrible, most strange food isn't, but I wished it came with bread, or rice or maybe without beef tongue! It looks hairy on one side and smooth, like squid, on the other.

Halfway through with being halfway through, I had the following thought; in the past months I've had crocodile, kangaroo, monkey, dog, durian, duck embryo, fermented taro root, grasshoppers and water beetles, cobra, intestines of all kinds, dried squid, live ants, century eggs and I'd happily try rat if given the chance. I don't think we need anymore evidence that I'm an adventurous eater! So I did something that I rarely ever do, and paid for my food and left with uneaten food at my table. From now on I'll enunciate when ordering my drinks, and better yet, ask for a menu!

Straddling the tourist trail in Laos

A bacon cheeseburger, fries and mustard-oh mustard!-awaited me back in Chiang Mai. I instantly felt better knowing I was going onto something new and celebrated by browsing the local bookstores for something to take on the two-day long trip to Luang Prabang in Laos. I arranged to travel via longboat down the Mekong River from the Thai-Lao border to Luang Prabang. It's a popular route by travelers and I met a couple interesting backpackers and I finished both of my books during the two days! The river trip is everything people say it is; it's great for meeting people, for reading books, it's relaxing and you get to see how life operates around the great artery that is the Mekong River. On the other hand, it's also noisy, crowded, hot and slow. Sometimes you've got to take the good with the bad.

In Luang Prabang my new found friends and I visited a nearby waterfall and did some hiking in the surrounding forest. We enjoyed a makeshift picnic between taking dips in the cold water and afterwards walked through the night market back in town. I moved on to Vang Vien soon after which is famous for both the plethora of caves around town and for tubing down the local Nam Ou River. It's similar to tubing back home in that you get a tube and a bunch of friends and cruise on down the river taking in the scenery and basking in the sun. The people of Vang Vien have capitalized on the potential of this by building bars next to the river and they excitedly reach out a bamboo pole or liferope for you to grab onto as they pull you into their establishment.

Apart from the drinking, which is the main draw for many people, the entertainment options are great. High, wooden towers rise over the banks for you to hurl yourself off of on a trapeze or zipline into the river below. I can't think of anything more dangerous than getting drunk, climbing up a tree and throwing yourself into a swift current. The lack of liability is supremely apparent and not surprisingly, drownings occur way too often. I may have been the only one not to consume a drop of alcohol on the river that day. But like a kid in a candy store I ran laps up to the trapeze and zipline. There are seven bars along the river and I tried four trapezes (perfecting my backflip as onlookers applauded,) a zipline and a mud volleyball game that quickly turned into mud wrestling! It was a great time on the river and I'm glad I didn't miss it.

The rest of the time I was in town I toured the local caves. My first cave was great, and I'm not particularly impressed with caves. It was lit up and had a walkway through it to guide you around the stalactites and other formations. At one point the lights stop but the sidewalk continues into the darkness. I whipped out my headlamp and beckoned my friends to follow along. We walked to the end of the walkway and turned off the light to experience complete darkness. It was a humbling feeling to think we'd be completely vulnerable if we didn't have that light. At the base of the cave is a beautiful blue lagoon where we swam with the locals. It was a lot of fun to joke around with them and take pictures with each other. I kept saying how much fun I was having.

Afterwards my friend Aurel and I drove out from the city on our motorbike, past the rice fields where workers were just finishing their work for the day and children were walking cattle back home. We came across a sign directing us to a cave advertising a "great adventure." We were up for a little adventure so we followed the sign down a muddy road to a group of kids who charged us 10,000 Kip (about $1) to continue onto the cave. Our guide was ten years old. It was a long walk up a dry riverbed to the entrance to the cave and it couldn't have been more different from our first cave. Sure it was still a cave and had all the cavy things that caves have in them, but it was extremely dark, the ceiling was much lower and ground was covered in slippery mud and jagged rocks. There were no barriers to prevent us from slipping into one of the holes along the sides which seemed to have no bottom and it lacked the inviting blue water of the previous cave. After a few minutes inside we decided that although it may be adventurous, we weren't in for a broken leg or slipping into an abyss and we decided to leave.

Like a lot of backpacker destinations, Laos has a distinct tourist trail. It starts in Chiang Mai, continues to Luang Prabang, Vang Vien and onto Vientiane where it splits in three and travelers go East to Vietnam, South to the rest of Laos and onto Cambodia or West back to Bangkok. Therefore, the people you see on the slow boat you may see again all along the trail. Aurel was on of these people, then there were the cyclists from Spain and a couple girls from Spain and Chile. All that to say, we all met up again quite randomly in Vang Vien and decided to go out. Since we were some of the only people in the club, the DJ let us pick which songs we wanted to hear, and since all of us were Spanish-speakers we played all our favorite Spanish songs and danced the night away! Just as the day began, is how it ended, with me clarifying just how much fun this was.

I must say something about the pork I had in Vang Vien. At a street stall on evening a woman invited me to come closer and handed out a piece of meat with some forceps. Without asking what it was I popped it into my mouth (is that strange?) and I was overcome by what could quite possibly be the best BBQ pork ribs I've ever had in my entire life! Aurel and I bought a rack of ribs to share with each other and I vowed to return the next day which I did after an all-day trek to a distant cave and the pork woman was gone! Oh the disappointment! How many times had I walked by that very spot in the morning wishing she were there? I'd waited all day and could only think of how many ribs I would buy that night and how great they would taste as I ate the rotisserie-roasted goodness standing in the street and tossing the bones to the dogs. Instead the stand was replaced by a woman selling BBQ chicken, an inadequate substitute. But I bought some anyway.

Vientiane was the last stop on my Laos itinerary. I had a pleasant feeling when we arrived in town. The French influence is very apparent in the architecture and the array of French restaurants and bakeries. I immediately went to the French Cultural Center to inquire of French courses just to find out there aren't any at this time. Bummer. Aurel and I walked around the town, ate dinner along the Mekong and gazed out at the lights of Thailand across the river. We parted ways as he went back to Bangkok and I stayed on awaiting my visa to Vietnam.

It was a sincere privilege to meet some fellow believers there in town. I spent Saturday afternoon watching the Olympics and playing farkle (yes they know how to play farkle!) and on Sunday I went to their evening meeting. Tears of joy rolled down my face as we sang "It is Well," and "Blessed be Your Name." There was nowhere else that I'd rather be in that moment that right there with my eternal brothers and sisters in the presence of the fellowship of believers. We shared some great conversation, encouragement and food together before the night was over. I took the next couple days slowly and visited a couple new bakeries for lunch, rented a bicycle and rode around town and picked up my visa at the Vietnam Embassy. My Lao journey was at an end, but it would be very easy to come back.

Seven Month Anniversary

It's been seven months since I left my mother country. Seven months since I've driven my car on the right side of the road. Seven months since I sold that car, my climbing equipment, my CDs and gave Delilah, my 13 foot long Burmese python away. It's been just as long since I've seen snow, eaten my mom's cooking or shook my dad's hand Sunday morning at church. I reflected on this last week and thought about where I've been and what I've done over those seven months. Here's a sample of what I discovered.

approximately 8,000 US dollars have been spent
over 2,000 pictures taken
212 days passed

57 boat rides

28 postcards sent

25 books read

23 new scars earned

17 SCUBA dives logged

14 homes stayed in

10 flights taken

9 mountains climbed, including 3 crater lakes and 2 active volcanoes

8 churches attended

7 countries visited

5 calls to the USA
4 bouts of sickness endured

3 seas swam in

2 oceans swam in

2 cellphones bought (and subsequently broken)

and 1 wedding witnessed.

I have realized a few things during my seven months. In terms of travel, I'd rather not travel alone anymore-wait. Allow me to rephrase. I would like to travel with my friends. I used to be a hard-core advocate for going it alone. After all, it is easier to meet people when you're alone, it is easier to do what you want, when you want and all that. However, it's harder to wake up when you know sleeping another hour isn't going to disturb anyone. Restaurants and movie theaters aren't very enjoyable when you're alone either. Good travel companions also distribute and help eliminate stress. You can take turns listening to the know-it-all backpacker, the down-and-out peasant farmer or turning away the sunglass hawker, masseuse, taxi driver, hotel owner, tour operator and prostitute.

It would be nice to have a progressive conversation every once in awhile and not have to ask strangers to take my picture (and then another stranger to take another one since the first can't compose the shot how I want,) to share the price of a hotel room or to not have to organize anything for a day, to do something someone else wants to do. Sounds strange doesn't it? I travel halfway around the world because it's what I want to do, and then have feelings of doing what someone else wants to do! Traveling with a friend can extend the experience well after you get home. Just imagine sitting around with said travel friend months or years after you both have returned home when he/she says, "Remember that time in Morocco when my camel ate your turban!" That's classic!

For awhile I thought I was homesick. Sometimes I want to go home, but it's usually just to eat at a restaurant in my hometown, to spend the afternoon with a friend or to sleep in my own bed for a night. The next morning I want to magically wake up on the other side of the world again and continue the journey. I'd like to go home for an afternoon or a day. So maybe I want to be home for awhile but I really don't want to go home right now.

I didn't know how much I enjoy books until this week when I devoured one on the bus ride to El Nido, another the next day with my toes in the sand and a third, quite by accident, at a cafe. I literally didn't move from my spot until I had finished the book. I'm constantly surprised at how few people read for enjoyment. They don't know what they're missing. It's difficult to find good titles on the road. Usually hostels, home stays and some cafes will have a small selection of books left by travelers you can exchange or buy. An average collection includes no less then five romance novels, an outdated guidebook, the lone classic like Romeo and Juliet or Great Expectations, a few fantasy novels and at least one shelf of German books. I'm not the only one who curiously asks fellow travelers what they're reading and if I could have their book when they're finished. It's a common custom among backpackers.

The pictures in this thread are of the Philippines, most of them around the town of El Nido on the island of Palawan. The weather had a big impact on my travel plans around the country and things didn't turn out exactly how I'd planned them. I did finish my advanced diving course while I was here and I got to make some friends through a pro-hospitality group I'm part of called couchsurfing. Without them, I know I would have left the Philippines already. When I look towards the future, I'm overwhelmed with uncertainty, but if it's anything like this tour's past it's gonna be great!

Traditionally seventh anniversary gifts are wool or copper. Mine is paper. I have a ticket to Thailand on Thursday! The journey continues...

The Fellowship of Friends

After arriving again in Bali and meeting up with Olivier we both began to get itchy feet. We needed an adventure and both of us had wanted to go to Java and see the sights around Yogyakarta, or Jogja as it's called locally. Less than 48 hours later we were on a plane bound for Java and it's temples and mountains harboring volcanoes and crater lakes. What would follow over the course of the next several days was one of the best trips I've taken so far and a personal highlight.

In order to save on accommodation costs and meet some people we decided to couchsurf in Jogja. Couchsurfing.com is a website of hosts who open their doors and unfold their couches to travelers passing through the area. As it turned out, there was a gathering of couchsurfers in Jogja that weekend from neighboring towns and some came all the way from Sumatra and Jakarta. Not only did we make friends this way but Tami, a friend of ours in Bali, used to attend school in Jogja and gave us the number of some of her friends. She couldn't stand to be away from the fun though, so that weekend after some begging, pleading and convincing, we got her to fly out for the weekend. Her group of friends are all part of an adventure club at the university who regularly go rock climbing, trekking and rafting. Within the first day of meeting, we had plans to go camping and climbing at the beach and then rafting the river the next day! It was great!

We camped out under some beautiful limestone crags within earshot of the crashing surf. The following day, Tami arrived and we climbed as much as we could before going back to Jogja that evening. The next day we left early to make it to the river in time. We had a great time rafting and joking with other rafters who passed us. I loved the spontaneity of it all, we hadn't planned any of this and yet it was better than anything we could have arranged ourselves. Unfortunately, Tami had to fly back to Bali that night to be at work the next morning.

Olivier and I caught the early train to Surabaya the next morning in order to see Mt. Bromo. Everyone talks about visiting Mt. Bromo during the sunrise. It sounded great and peaceful so we decided not to miss it. I had a picture in my mind of hiking to the top and sharing a spectacular sunrise with a few other tourists. The reality was a little bit different. The sunrise was still great, but I shared it with around four hundred other tourists! Most were Indonesians taking advantage of the weekend holiday from Surabaya and Jakarta. We still were able to capture some great pictures overlooking Mt. Bromo and the volcano behind it.

We had one more stop on the way to Bali. Kawa Ijen crater is... well, it's a crater. But it's unique in that the lake in it's center is about one hundred degrees and there is a sulfur mine in it's crater where local men collect the sulfur and port it out on their backs. Again we woke up before dawn to begin our hike up the mountain. It's around 2 km up a steep trail to the crater rim, and another kilometer down to the lake. It really is a sight to see, as men chip away blocks of the acidic rock and pack it in baskets to be carried out. Sulfurous smoke rose up from pipes and burnt our eyes and lungs. It's not exactly a pleasant place to sit and gaze out at the lake but I wouldn't have missed it. The men carry around 80 kilos on their backs at a time, the going rate being 500 rupiah per kilo making their 6 km, 5 hour journey worth about 4 US dollars. The men were very nice to talk to and regularly asked if they could bum a cigarette and wanted to know where we were from. When the wind shifted and we were unable to move, see or breath they took us by the arm and ushered us to fresh air with smiles on their faces. We hiked down and began the long bus journey back to Denpasar.

I'm happy to say my final days in Indonesia were spent with friends. That's what makes this trip stand out against the others. I've made friends nearly everywhere I've gone but the closeness that I shared with those in Jogja and in Bali surpasses all the rest that I've met in Indonesia. There were several requests that I stay longer, and I entertained the notion for awhile. Repeated compliments about my Indonesian language skills really made me want to stay longer, but in the end I had a plane to catch and I decided to board it. I won't soon forget my friends in Indonesia. Olivier was very generous in allowing me to stay with him while I was in Bali and I truly enjoyed traveling with him. We have plans to meet again in France later this year and I feel like I will be back in Indonesia someday also.

It's amazing to think that my Indonesian experience has been shaped by a chance meeting with two fellow travelers after I had been feeling sorry for myself. I'll never forget when I met Olivier and Handa. And I thank God that it was raining that day.

The flowers of Flores

It’s not often that the casual tourist is allowed a glimpse of authentic local culture, but recently I was actually part of it. On the bus from Labuanbajo on the island of Flores, I met Florenzo and Linda. Lorenzo was returning to his village after being away for over eight years, and he was introducing his wife to his family for the first time. There would be a big party and he invited me to come join the celebration the next day.

He showed me the houses and traditional items around and included me in the day’s activities. I met his family and we sat of the floor drinking tea, coffee and eating cookes while the men smoked clove cigarettes. I found myself quite intrigued with village life. The people make a living through agriculture, growing coffee, peanuts, corn and beans. There seemed to be a lot of young children and a lot of very old people in the village. I suppose those in the middle were out in the fields or perhaps did what Lorenzo did and found another home in the city.

We sat there in the house, on bamboo mats eating rice and pork with our hands. Smoke rose in the air and filled the room from the cigarettes and every empty glass was quicly filled with arak, palm wine, and given back to its owner. I took a little time out in the middle of the day to play with the kids. We began playing soccer, and then I challenged them to a contest to see how many times you could kick the ball in the air without it touching the ground. The highest anyone got was 27, I got 65 and 67 the times I tried. There were around thirty kids between 6 and 13 years old. We had a brief Indonesian and English lesson before they asked me to take a photo. I got a couple good ones before they started fighting for position so I ended it all and went back inside.

I would say there were around fifty people at the party. It’s hard to be a fly on the wall sometimes, especially with such bright skin. Each time I went to check on the pig I would be given something to eat. Whenever I sat down they would bring me a chair or offer me tea. I suppose it’s better to be too involved than not at all.

I think a lot of how different my life is and has been compared to others here. Seeing the old men and women in the village made me curious as to what they’ve seen and gone through in their lives. Children are delivered in homes, food is rather bland and the work must be difficult. A friend told me Indonesians earn about one million rupiah a month, about one hundred US dollars. I asked Lorenzo if he could come back here, to live in the village again. He grimaced and said he doesn’t think he could. Life sure would be different wouldn’t it?

The island of Flores was given its name by the Portuguese many years ago. It means “flowers” but you won’t find many on the island. A friend explained it to me on the way to Kupang; the people of Flores are the flowers. I’d have to agree, and on my visit they were in full bloom

Under the Sea

It's official! I have now scuba dove! It's fun! It's relaxing! It's challenging! It's interesting! And everything is so new! Like a lot of hobbies SCUBA is very social, in my certification class in Cairns there were about 15 students and on the live aboard boat we total 37, 31 divers and 6 crew. I passed my dive medical exam despite my injuries. The doctor gave me instructions to keep it clean and rinse with freshwater after each dive. Getting into and out of a wetsuit was a bit painful but it was all worth it. Once I was in the water there was no pain at all, even if there was, it would be easy to forget with all the fish and coral to look at.

The course I took is a 5 day Learn to Dive course. The first two days were spent in Cairns learning about the equipment and theory of diving, then for the next three days we went out on the ocean, living on a boat on the Great Barrier Reef! Our instructors warned us the schedule for the next three days would be little more than eating, diving and sleeping. The first day out on the boat my class went on two dives in the morning working on attaining our open water certification. It's difficult to explain the feeling of diving. The compressed air you breath is very dry, it's louder underwater than I expected it to be, a lot louder. I found diving relaxing though, focusing on my breathing, moving slowly and looking out for Nemo and his friends was quite enjoyable.

At the end of the first day while all of the students were watching from the top deck, the already certified divers were preparing for a night dive. It was so spooky! Sharks were circling behind the boat right where the divers were jumping in. As the divers descended, the beams of their flashlights eventually faded out until you could no longer see them. I couldn't wait for when we could go on a night dive the next day.

Day two was an exciting day since it was the day we'd gain our certification and be able to dive unguided. We still had two dives to complete and perform some skills in the water, by noon we were all certified divers! For my first fun dive I chose to go with my dive buddy whom I knew didn't use much air. I wanted to spend as much time underwater as possible and I'd gained the reputation in class as the one who uses the least amount of air. Our dives up to this point had been between thirty and forty minutes long. On our first fun dive, my buddy and I stayed under for fifty three minutes! It was a blast, even though we kind of got lost and didn't know where we were going most of the time. I noticed that without a guide, I didn't see as much because I was always concerned about where to go next or where my buddy was instead of just following the leader. Over the next few dives I worked out how to navigate better underwater and it made it much more enjoyable when I knew where I was.

Night dive! Just like the last one, sharks were circling the back of the boat as we jumped in. We descended to the bottom and made a loop through the coral and back to the boat. The reef is interesting at night, I'd like to do more night dives. Little shrimps were out on the coral peering up at us with their orange eyes, the soldierfish who are tucked away in holes and under shelves during the day, are swimming about at night. We came across a painted crayfish too which is like a lobster. It's antennae were huge! At one point I was following Oscar, our guide, through this hallway of reef. He shined his flashlight under a big shelf and there was the biggest green sea turtle I've ever seen! It was bigger than the leatherbacks I'd seen in Costa Rica! He was sleeping and had to be over 7 feet long. His tail was as big around as my arm! I couldn't believe it.

We didn't see much else as we made our way back t the boat. We held on to a bar that had been suspended about 5 meters below the boat. Oscar pulled out a plastic pop bottle and began rolling it between his hands and crinkling it, twisting it and bending it. It made a very loud sound underwater, it was a deep, loud rumbling sound... and it was attracting sharks! We couldn't see the bottom and our visibility was limited to the faint glow of the boat's floodlights from above, coupled with our flashlights. Oscar pointed to the edge of our visible limit and I could just make out the green eye shine of the shark. Then it disappeared! Pretty soon it came back again and left again .It was getting closer and closer, staying longer and longer. It was a grey reef shark about two meters long. I was focusing on it with my flashlight when two others came up underneath us! Whoa! It was so fun! As we ascended to the boat ladder the bigger one came closer. I was following it with my light when it turned and came towards me! Ahh! It wasn't enough to get me swimming towards the steps but it definitely got the adrenaline going. That was a really fun dive!

The first dive the next morning, my seventh, took the cake. I had a new dive buddy for this dive, Adam, also from America. Where do I begin? It was very early and we were in the water just as the sun was rising so all the night-time stuff was still out and the day-time fish and turtles were coming out too. We saw the usual things, Christmas tree worms, some really good clown fish in anemones and then a shark! A black-tipped reef shark just swam past and Adam didn't see it! I was trying to get his attention but I didn't want to miss the shark so I kept my eye on it while swimming backwards to grab Adam. He missed it in the end which I thought was a bummer, we probably wouldn't see another one right? We went around a corner and I took a course about 3 feet above Adam and there was a turtle eating! We could have gone right past it. After Adam snapped a couple pictures of the turtle we went around a mound of coral and there was a white-tipped reef shark sleeping on the sand! Wow! We watched it and tried to get closer and closer until finally it woke up and slowly swam away. A little further away were some other divers coming our way, something wasn't right though, one diver looked funny. As it got closer I realized it wasn't a diver at all, but a turtle swimming gracefully towards us! I thought, "This couldn't get any better!." I was wrong again. Only a few seconds later as Adam was taking pictures of some blue staghorn coral I just happened to peer between two towers of reef and I could just make out the outline of a sleeping shark about ten meters away! We swam over to it and watched it for awhile. It was bigger than all the others at about 7 feet long. Sharks look pretty peaceful when they're sleeping. Their gills move a little bit and they open and close their mouths slightly but generally they just lay on the bottom. By this time it was time to go back to the boat and eat breakfast. Nobody could believe everything that we saw in that single dive!

All in all, I went on nine dives, ate some great food and met some interesting people. I'm not ready to sell the farm and make my living from diving, but I am looking forward to diving some more. I would especially like to go with some friends of mine, and maybe, just maybe my parents will dust off their certification cards they got way back in the day and we can be dive buddies someday.