Long, white sandy beaches lined with palm trees and aquamarine waters graced with soft music and a wooden bar serving umbrella drinks. That's what I thought Tahiti and Moorea would be like too. I suppose they would be during the dry season and not the rainy season, which is when we oh-so-smartly planned our trip to French Polynesia.
Tahiti is not known for its big beaches (it has one white sand beach and the rest are black sand). Comprising of Tahiti Nui and Tahiti Iti, the two islands are joined together by a bridge surrounded by the one road that goes around Tahiti Nui and a road halfway around Tahiti Iti, where not even 4 wheel drive will let anyone pass. Enormous volcanic mountains rise up above the shores topped with clouds. Weather is unpredictable with the standard response of "I don't know, we will see," and can be different on each side of the island. Raining one day in Papeete, we were blessed with clear blue skies on the opposite side of Tahiti Iti, where we were lucky enough to be snorkeling and speeding around in a friend's speedboat, going close to 50mph. We spent a weekend staying with friends of friends, who then became our friends, whose backyard, literally, is the lagoon leading to the ocean. This is not a stereotypical lagoon either. Surrounded by reef, the whole island's shores are calm with waves crashing, seemingly in the middle of water, at the edge of the lagoon meeting the ocean. Surfers ride their boats out to the edge of the reef to hop on their boards. This is where I saw Paradise. Though there was no soft music in the background or a streamline of Mai Tais, this was what everyone pictures when they think of Tahiti.
Only 30 kilometers away stands Moorea, the easiest and closest island to get to. Much like Tahiti in appearance, though a bit smaller, Moorea has only one road around the whole island and it too has volcanic peaks erupting from its center. Club Med, The Sheraton and Continental all have staked their claim for their resorts on the shore. Haapiti, where we stayed, is a small town, if it can even be called that, has restaurants lining the main road and a few shops displaying the traditional black pearls of the area. Scuba diving offers amazing clarity of 20 to 30 meters. Black Tipped Sharks, Giant Triggerfish, Rainbow Fish, Red Tooth Blue Triggerfish, Moray Eels and Sting Rays all coexist and hang out with divers like we are part of the family. Yellowfins even followed us and swam as though we were actual fish. Visibility underwater lasted long enough for us to complete the dive before we were once again welcomed with rain. This isn't just rain. This is downpour. On and off for three days it poured with our warning system consisting of the before-rain-winds and a little sprinkle. The sky cascaded blues of all different shades and when the sun would come out for a few minutes, the light and dark blue contrasts in the water complemented the sky beautifully.
A return to Tahiti met us with the sweetest and kindest hospitality. Our hosts are very generous and accommodating. Family friends of Christina have met us with a warmth that touches the heart after such a long trip. We have been taken in as though we have always been family. Pending vacations to the United States for both families we are visitng, will hopefully bear reunions. The generosity of those we have met has been overwhelming. I am grateful to those around us for all they have done to give us a complete, full-circle experience in French Polynesia but also to help us wind down such a long excursion. We could not have asked for a better end to our journey.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Our Angel Carlene
Forget the vibrant green hills that sandwich towering mountains (including Mt. Doom) and meet water and beautiful beaches on either side. Forget sailing with dolphins jumping out of the water to say hello and play a game of splash. Forget Hobbiton, Glow Worm Caves (larva of mouthless flies that have 30 or so strings hanging from their mouths to catch food and through bioluminescence glow), limestone caves, good beer in Urenui. Forget Lake Taupo, reminiscent of Lake Titicaca and the sunset, Rotorua with the small town vibe. Forget miles long beaches in the Bay of Plenty and the quaintness of Tairua on the water, Hotwater Beach where you can dig holes in the sand and sit in hot tub temperature water with cool waves crashing against you (make sure you go at low tide and not high tide, like we did). Forget Cathedral Cove with a limestone arch and the rollercoaster of a trail to get there, twisting up and down for a kilometer. Forget picking parks or residential streets to sleep in the car while stealing toilet paper and paper towels from information centers and public toilets. Remember Tongariro Crossing...and Our Angel Carlene.
Eighteen kilometers up and down, across five very distinct lands, it is easy to understand what Frodo and Sam went through. We started from Managatepopo and headed toward Ketetahi (the easier way we think) beginning in the arid, deserted Volcanicland (I'm giving these areas my own names) with chunks of volcanic rock sprayed around as we walked through the hot, flat abyss. Crawling over rocks, we climbed to the turn off for Mt. Doom (Mt. Nguaruhoe) and continued our crawl/climb to Red Crater, the highest point of our chosen hike. Unstable ground made our footing very strategic. Red Crater was the point where one world meets another. Volcanic Mt. Doom looming in one direction and the valley with lakes and farms in the other. From the craters, we entered Sulphur City where thermal lakes shone bright blue and green emitting hot, vaporous breezes. Clumps of snow looked over the lakes leading the way to Blue Water Lake (this one I didn't make up)with a decreased temperature enough to cause shock if a person went from one to another.
Shortly thereafter, another incline bears the view of Lake Taupo in the valley and so we entered Grasslands (I'm so creative!) where we were surrounded by yellow grasses and bushes- some just a few inches and others a few feet high. Grassland is quite large with a low grade decline leading to Ketetahi Hut (the last or first hut in which to slumber, depending on which way you climb). Below Grassland is the Riverview Forest (another one of my genius names) shaded by pine trees and the like with streams and a river flowing through it. A patted dirt walkway is refreshing to the limbs after having to make our own trail at the beginning of the hike.
Alas, I have digressed. Our Angel Carlene comes into play at the completion of the 18kilometers, of which we hiked in under 5 hours. Unbeknownst to us, no shuttles run from one car park to the other, only from neighboring towns to the different car parks. Our choices were to go back across the varied lands to our car making our day 36 kilometers long instead of 18 or to walk to the road and see if we could find a ride. The Ketetahi car park was vacant of people to ask for rides so we ventured to the main road to hitchhike.
One car went by, no luck. Another went by, still no luck. Third, fourth, fifth. Even us trying out the Can-Can only solicited honks and waves but no rides. We walked 6 kilometers before finding a small trailer with clothes on the line and an open front door. We ventured to ask if the inhabitants knew of anyone going to town, saving us what we thought was an additional 25 km walk(on flat ground) to our 18. No, they didn't, but they told us the main highway was only 2 kilometers away.
We ran with our little backpacks to try and gain some ground as we could see ( no it was not a mirage from dehydration-- we still had plenty of food and water at that point)the highway ahead. We heard another car approaching and turned around only to lose a little hope for the car appeared to be turning down another road. Alas, the car did not turn, but pulled over for us and bore Our Angel Carlene, the woman with whom I spoke, at her house not five minutes earlier. As she drove up she said, "Everybody needs a blessing, you know...and it's Sunday." Not only did she drive us back to the turn off to the car park where our rental stood, but she drove us all the way...all the extra 34 kilometers to our car. We would have had to walk an additional 40 kilometers to our car had Our Angel Carlene not picked us up. We are forever grateful and indebted to Our Angel Carlene for providing us with a blessing and taking us that extra distance.
Eighteen kilometers up and down, across five very distinct lands, it is easy to understand what Frodo and Sam went through. We started from Managatepopo and headed toward Ketetahi (the easier way we think) beginning in the arid, deserted Volcanicland (I'm giving these areas my own names) with chunks of volcanic rock sprayed around as we walked through the hot, flat abyss. Crawling over rocks, we climbed to the turn off for Mt. Doom (Mt. Nguaruhoe) and continued our crawl/climb to Red Crater, the highest point of our chosen hike. Unstable ground made our footing very strategic. Red Crater was the point where one world meets another. Volcanic Mt. Doom looming in one direction and the valley with lakes and farms in the other. From the craters, we entered Sulphur City where thermal lakes shone bright blue and green emitting hot, vaporous breezes. Clumps of snow looked over the lakes leading the way to Blue Water Lake (this one I didn't make up)with a decreased temperature enough to cause shock if a person went from one to another.
Shortly thereafter, another incline bears the view of Lake Taupo in the valley and so we entered Grasslands (I'm so creative!) where we were surrounded by yellow grasses and bushes- some just a few inches and others a few feet high. Grassland is quite large with a low grade decline leading to Ketetahi Hut (the last or first hut in which to slumber, depending on which way you climb). Below Grassland is the Riverview Forest (another one of my genius names) shaded by pine trees and the like with streams and a river flowing through it. A patted dirt walkway is refreshing to the limbs after having to make our own trail at the beginning of the hike.
Alas, I have digressed. Our Angel Carlene comes into play at the completion of the 18kilometers, of which we hiked in under 5 hours. Unbeknownst to us, no shuttles run from one car park to the other, only from neighboring towns to the different car parks. Our choices were to go back across the varied lands to our car making our day 36 kilometers long instead of 18 or to walk to the road and see if we could find a ride. The Ketetahi car park was vacant of people to ask for rides so we ventured to the main road to hitchhike.
One car went by, no luck. Another went by, still no luck. Third, fourth, fifth. Even us trying out the Can-Can only solicited honks and waves but no rides. We walked 6 kilometers before finding a small trailer with clothes on the line and an open front door. We ventured to ask if the inhabitants knew of anyone going to town, saving us what we thought was an additional 25 km walk(on flat ground) to our 18. No, they didn't, but they told us the main highway was only 2 kilometers away.
We ran with our little backpacks to try and gain some ground as we could see ( no it was not a mirage from dehydration-- we still had plenty of food and water at that point)the highway ahead. We heard another car approaching and turned around only to lose a little hope for the car appeared to be turning down another road. Alas, the car did not turn, but pulled over for us and bore Our Angel Carlene, the woman with whom I spoke, at her house not five minutes earlier. As she drove up she said, "Everybody needs a blessing, you know...and it's Sunday." Not only did she drive us back to the turn off to the car park where our rental stood, but she drove us all the way...all the extra 34 kilometers to our car. We would have had to walk an additional 40 kilometers to our car had Our Angel Carlene not picked us up. We are forever grateful and indebted to Our Angel Carlene for providing us with a blessing and taking us that extra distance.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
White Cliffs Organic Brewery
Like most people, at the age of 60, Mike Trigg retired from his over 20 year old engineering business and a life in South Africa, to enjoy life in New Zealand near one of his son's family and grandchildren. Five years later, Mike and his wife, Rene, share a business with their son, Ron and daughter in-law, Jill. Newely, proud owners of White Cliffs Organic Brewery, Mike and Rene gave up retirement for 70 hour weeks...and so far they love it. Not that they haven't had their share of new owner problems. Within the first month, half of their equipment broke down, including pipes that seemed to have no destination or beginning and a refrigerator and stove that called it quits in the middle of their first function.
Five months after the new purchase, Mike and Rene seem to really enjoy their new work. Additions, product increase and hopefully exports seem to be the future of New Zealand's smallest organic brewery.
Placed five kilometers from the nearest town of Urenui (I should pronounce this one in person) and 1.5 kilometers from the ocean, White Cliffs is set on four acres, mostly designated for avocado trees. A function center looks out over the farm with a small glimpse of the bright, light, blue-green water just over the hill. Young olive trees surround the actual brewery with lavender bushes aligning the car park. During the day, chickens roam the property while one lonely peacock looks for a mate.
Though a beautiful setting, brewing is definitely hard work. Sounds, temperatures, percentages, colors are all documented daily. Cleanliness is of the utmost importance. Just to handle empty bottles on bottling day requires meticulous attention to properly washing hands and spraying them with an alcohol mix. The antique machine used to bottle is at least 50 years old, according to the bottling veteran Gypsy. One-legged Gypsy has been around for the 15 years that the brewery has but is hoping to give it all up in December to teach little ones in Year Four.
Labeling and packing can only happen after the full bottles are stacked properly and have dried after being hosed down to remove the sticky beer. Packing is different depending on where the beer is going and which beer it is. Amazingly, there is a difference between 2 litre bottles and 330ml bottles. Stubbies are usually for individual consumption or restaurants, 4-packs are usually for stores and fridge packs are for in-house use. Don't follow my lead and pack 9 boxes of 4-packs as fridge packs and upon completion have to redo them all. OOOPS. Brewing day is a long one, but not really for WWOOFers. The wood fire has to be started about 5:30am! Luckily for Mike and Steve (the previous owner who has stayed on to help for six months), this provided them a break from doing small time projects around the property, like weeding. I think I aged 30 years in the few hours we weeded.
Here, they sell 2 kinds of beer: Mike's Ale and Mountain Lager. Both are absolutely fantastic! It takes about 6 days for the ale and 8-10 days for the lager to brew in primary fermentation before they are moved to secondary fermentation. The grain is imported from Germany and the hops is from the South Island. At around 20 days is when the beer may be moved to the cooler to await bottling. Brewing is probably one of the sciences that has the best reward-- a nice cold glass of beer at the end of the day. Though our stay was just a short 5 days, it was the best experience we could have asked for at White Cliffs Organic Brewery.
Five months after the new purchase, Mike and Rene seem to really enjoy their new work. Additions, product increase and hopefully exports seem to be the future of New Zealand's smallest organic brewery.
Placed five kilometers from the nearest town of Urenui (I should pronounce this one in person) and 1.5 kilometers from the ocean, White Cliffs is set on four acres, mostly designated for avocado trees. A function center looks out over the farm with a small glimpse of the bright, light, blue-green water just over the hill. Young olive trees surround the actual brewery with lavender bushes aligning the car park. During the day, chickens roam the property while one lonely peacock looks for a mate.
Though a beautiful setting, brewing is definitely hard work. Sounds, temperatures, percentages, colors are all documented daily. Cleanliness is of the utmost importance. Just to handle empty bottles on bottling day requires meticulous attention to properly washing hands and spraying them with an alcohol mix. The antique machine used to bottle is at least 50 years old, according to the bottling veteran Gypsy. One-legged Gypsy has been around for the 15 years that the brewery has but is hoping to give it all up in December to teach little ones in Year Four.
Labeling and packing can only happen after the full bottles are stacked properly and have dried after being hosed down to remove the sticky beer. Packing is different depending on where the beer is going and which beer it is. Amazingly, there is a difference between 2 litre bottles and 330ml bottles. Stubbies are usually for individual consumption or restaurants, 4-packs are usually for stores and fridge packs are for in-house use. Don't follow my lead and pack 9 boxes of 4-packs as fridge packs and upon completion have to redo them all. OOOPS. Brewing day is a long one, but not really for WWOOFers. The wood fire has to be started about 5:30am! Luckily for Mike and Steve (the previous owner who has stayed on to help for six months), this provided them a break from doing small time projects around the property, like weeding. I think I aged 30 years in the few hours we weeded.
Here, they sell 2 kinds of beer: Mike's Ale and Mountain Lager. Both are absolutely fantastic! It takes about 6 days for the ale and 8-10 days for the lager to brew in primary fermentation before they are moved to secondary fermentation. The grain is imported from Germany and the hops is from the South Island. At around 20 days is when the beer may be moved to the cooler to await bottling. Brewing is probably one of the sciences that has the best reward-- a nice cold glass of beer at the end of the day. Though our stay was just a short 5 days, it was the best experience we could have asked for at White Cliffs Organic Brewery.
Sydney
Awkward. Topsy-Turvy. Unpredictable. Entertaining. Surreal. Words not exactly pin-pointing my time in Sydney but hopefully creating a sense of the month spent in such a famous city. I am eternally grateful to our hosts for taking us in for such a long time. I know it is not easy to have guests for nearly a month. Unfortunately for me, I overstayed my welcome with one of our hosts within the first four days staying there...without even realizing it. Wit and sarcasm seemed a requirement for survival in the house. I had my sexual orientation, appearance, female disposition and nationality dished out to me on a silver platter. Being an American, at this time in history, is a free one. Jesting about that is a given. Unfortunately, my quick banter responses to these topics were mistaken for rude, insensitive and personal. How the above subject matter was not personal in regards to me, I do not know. Nonetheless, I somehow breached a line of formality that I believed had already been erased and thus found myself in a predicament. Luckily, I was afforded five absolutely wonderful days in Tannum Sands. My host's friends and housemates were incredible and some of the nicest and welcoming people I've ever met and indeed they did help to decrease some of the tension. I spent the rest of my time being the ultimate tourist.
I found Sydney to be quite beautiful yet understatedly homogenous with the prevalence of an Asian conglomerate. Fashion, as I have stated, is one for which I have created a new term-- milleneighties (that would be millenium, nineties and eighties)-- I think that would give an introduction to fashion. I had the opportunity to run over the Harbour Bridge, run from Bondi Beach to Coogee, surrounded by an exhibit called Sculpture by the Sea. I went to the aquarium (how fun it is to actually walk underneath where the fish and sharks swim!), Sydney Museum and I went on a harbour cruise to Wilsons Bay and Luna Park. I also made my way a bit south to Wollongong for a day at the beach. All things I would highly recommend!
Through all this, I realized I didn't fit into the box of those around me and I foolishly tried. Instead of just being me, I looked for an acceptance from my host that I will never achieve. I hope I'll learn strength in my own self and my own personality to not fall for that one again. Maybe I'll follow my own ideas of what is good for another may not be good for me.
I found Sydney to be quite beautiful yet understatedly homogenous with the prevalence of an Asian conglomerate. Fashion, as I have stated, is one for which I have created a new term-- milleneighties (that would be millenium, nineties and eighties)-- I think that would give an introduction to fashion. I had the opportunity to run over the Harbour Bridge, run from Bondi Beach to Coogee, surrounded by an exhibit called Sculpture by the Sea. I went to the aquarium (how fun it is to actually walk underneath where the fish and sharks swim!), Sydney Museum and I went on a harbour cruise to Wilsons Bay and Luna Park. I also made my way a bit south to Wollongong for a day at the beach. All things I would highly recommend!
Through all this, I realized I didn't fit into the box of those around me and I foolishly tried. Instead of just being me, I looked for an acceptance from my host that I will never achieve. I hope I'll learn strength in my own self and my own personality to not fall for that one again. Maybe I'll follow my own ideas of what is good for another may not be good for me.
Photos
Unfortunately, I will not be posting anymore photos. I picked up two viruses trying to upload photos on another blog and possibly have lost a full memory card of photos. Sorry for the inconvenience and hope this won't deter you all from continuing to read!!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Religion
Though on the surface, religion does not seem like a topic for a travel blog, it has been an underlying theme throughout my travels. Catholicism reigns in Peru where people identify with being Catholic, mostly in name. Religions/faiths in South Africa differ depending on which tribes people belong. Catholicism and non-denominational Christianity run rampant in Kenya. Southeast Asia was a paradox all on its own with Muslim Malaysia and Buddhist Thailand. Even between my travel partner and I, we represent a spectrum of religion from my Orthodox upbringing and practice to her more Buddhist lifestyle and ideas.
These travels have solidified my relativist views that faith really is an individual decision. Each religion or sect boasts of being The One or The Right Way. Even I have my own ideas on what is right...for me. I have found that more people spend time arguing on who is right and how others have to be wrong in order to validate the self. I believe it's much easier to do this than it is to focus on the self. If I spend all my time pointing fingers at others, how would I have time to work on myself and my personal goals?
A friend of mine, who does happen to be Orthodox as well, commented on how sometimes when she hears different Christian sects spout their ideals she feels a closer understanding to Jews than she does to those who are technically all under the same Christian umbrella. I have often felt the same way, separating myself as being part of a different Christianity, wanting to focus more on the self, as I was raised, rather than who is right.
From this, though, I have learned that individuals need to do what is best for them in order to find their own spirituality to lead them to live the best life they can. Who am I to say that what works for me has to work for another? It's possible, but I do not believe I'm in any position to tell another what he/she should or should not believe. I do believe education of different faiths is crucial to make the personal decision on individual spirituality.
What is interesting is that everywhere I've been, when spirituality or faith has been discussed, inevitability right religion or wrong religion is approached. Searching a little harder, I have found that those who abandon the discussion and just live their life according to what they believe, tell a much different story. Those who cannot get around the discussion tend to be more didactic in their approach. Others speak by simply just living. No matter what religion or faith to which a person belongs, I believe the best way to have an understanding of one's faith is to witness how he/she lives his/her life, whether socially acceptable or not.
Understanding another person's beliefs may not bring about agreement, but it hopefully will bring an idea that what they do is right for them just as what I do is right for me. And for me, the rest is left up to God.
These travels have solidified my relativist views that faith really is an individual decision. Each religion or sect boasts of being The One or The Right Way. Even I have my own ideas on what is right...for me. I have found that more people spend time arguing on who is right and how others have to be wrong in order to validate the self. I believe it's much easier to do this than it is to focus on the self. If I spend all my time pointing fingers at others, how would I have time to work on myself and my personal goals?
A friend of mine, who does happen to be Orthodox as well, commented on how sometimes when she hears different Christian sects spout their ideals she feels a closer understanding to Jews than she does to those who are technically all under the same Christian umbrella. I have often felt the same way, separating myself as being part of a different Christianity, wanting to focus more on the self, as I was raised, rather than who is right.
From this, though, I have learned that individuals need to do what is best for them in order to find their own spirituality to lead them to live the best life they can. Who am I to say that what works for me has to work for another? It's possible, but I do not believe I'm in any position to tell another what he/she should or should not believe. I do believe education of different faiths is crucial to make the personal decision on individual spirituality.
What is interesting is that everywhere I've been, when spirituality or faith has been discussed, inevitability right religion or wrong religion is approached. Searching a little harder, I have found that those who abandon the discussion and just live their life according to what they believe, tell a much different story. Those who cannot get around the discussion tend to be more didactic in their approach. Others speak by simply just living. No matter what religion or faith to which a person belongs, I believe the best way to have an understanding of one's faith is to witness how he/she lives his/her life, whether socially acceptable or not.
Understanding another person's beliefs may not bring about agreement, but it hopefully will bring an idea that what they do is right for them just as what I do is right for me. And for me, the rest is left up to God.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Tannum Sands, Australia
A six hour drive north of Brisbane bears the little town of Tannum Sands tucked across the river from Boyne Island and 20 kilometers from the industrial mecca of Gladstone (pronounced to us foreigners as if there was no 'e' on the end). Gladstone, known for the largest aluminium (yes, I intentionally added the extra 'i' as is necessary here and in other countries colonized by the English)
factory, has the largest industrial port dealing in business with China. Though to locals the 20 kilometers can seem quite far, the hike is worth it to reach quaint Tannum Sands. If ever there was a classic beach town, it would be Tannum Sands. Mostly residential, there is a central shopping center with the essentials: a chemist, supermarket, pub, drive-thru liquor store and of course, the most essential of all, a KFC. All of this is within a 10 minute walking distance to the beach. A small park overlooks the beach with the sounds of waves hitting the ears before ever reaching the cliff.
Though the beach width is not as enormous as those found in the U.S. of A., it is enough that one can stay sprawled out without being reached by the huge tides (known officially around here as King Tides- though we haven't experienced those peraonlly at all), but still feel the intimacy of it nearly being a private beach. The water falls a short second place in warmth to what I experienced in Costa Rica, but compared to the water at Bondi Beach in Sydney, it's a hot tub. 
This, of course, makes it enticing for kite surfers to come out after a hard days work and enjoy some evening runs.
For me, Tannum Sands wasn't just about the beach, but also the incredible hospitality and how warmly I was received by my friends, Josh and Steph. Having not seen them since before their wedding, nearly three years ago, I had no idea what to expect. They took me in as if I'd been their neighbor this whole time. They took me to Agnes Waters and 1770 to walk around and play at the beach, even though it was Steph's birthday. They told me to treat their home (and Steph's parents' house as well) as my home and would not even let me buy my own food.
I nearly had to fight them to pay for one dinner just to say a small thank you. Even the Lio family dog, Minka (unfortunately, my camera isn't working so I can't put up my picture of Minka), took me in and would try to sneak into my room to keep me company at night. I'm not sure if it was because she thought I was lonely or if she was the one who needed attention. =0)
I was even offered a car to drive an hour away at the possiblity of scuba diving in the most southern part of the Great Barrier Reef. Unfortunately, because of those King Tide thingies, I was not able to go, but the offer from Josh and Steph was too kind. Though Josh and I went to secondary together, our connection since then, has been through the friendship of our older siblings. It is a connection I hope to maintain and keep no matter where I or Josh and Steph end up. I could not have asked for a better five day holiday from my five and a half month holiday.
factory, has the largest industrial port dealing in business with China. Though to locals the 20 kilometers can seem quite far, the hike is worth it to reach quaint Tannum Sands. If ever there was a classic beach town, it would be Tannum Sands. Mostly residential, there is a central shopping center with the essentials: a chemist, supermarket, pub, drive-thru liquor store and of course, the most essential of all, a KFC. All of this is within a 10 minute walking distance to the beach. A small park overlooks the beach with the sounds of waves hitting the ears before ever reaching the cliff.
Though the beach width is not as enormous as those found in the U.S. of A., it is enough that one can stay sprawled out without being reached by the huge tides (known officially around here as King Tides- though we haven't experienced those peraonlly at all), but still feel the intimacy of it nearly being a private beach. The water falls a short second place in warmth to what I experienced in Costa Rica, but compared to the water at Bondi Beach in Sydney, it's a hot tub. 
This, of course, makes it enticing for kite surfers to come out after a hard days work and enjoy some evening runs.
For me, Tannum Sands wasn't just about the beach, but also the incredible hospitality and how warmly I was received by my friends, Josh and Steph. Having not seen them since before their wedding, nearly three years ago, I had no idea what to expect. They took me in as if I'd been their neighbor this whole time. They took me to Agnes Waters and 1770 to walk around and play at the beach, even though it was Steph's birthday. They told me to treat their home (and Steph's parents' house as well) as my home and would not even let me buy my own food.
I nearly had to fight them to pay for one dinner just to say a small thank you. Even the Lio family dog, Minka (unfortunately, my camera isn't working so I can't put up my picture of Minka), took me in and would try to sneak into my room to keep me company at night. I'm not sure if it was because she thought I was lonely or if she was the one who needed attention. =0)
I was even offered a car to drive an hour away at the possiblity of scuba diving in the most southern part of the Great Barrier Reef. Unfortunately, because of those King Tide thingies, I was not able to go, but the offer from Josh and Steph was too kind. Though Josh and I went to secondary together, our connection since then, has been through the friendship of our older siblings. It is a connection I hope to maintain and keep no matter where I or Josh and Steph end up. I could not have asked for a better five day holiday from my five and a half month holiday.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Writer's Block
From what I understand about many writers, they can just sit at a computer all day and write about this or that. Some days, they can write more than others. And occasionally, they may suffer from writer's block, for who knows how long, and then bounce back and continue on. I am quite the opposite. I am most often in a state of writer's block and randomly, thoughts and extrapolations hit me and I write. Unfortunately...well, it's unfortunate for me, I'm not sure how unfortunate it is for you all, I have not recently been hit with many thoughts or extrapolations pertinent to my travel blog and thus the reason why there has been an absence and dwindling presence of blogs. I am taking a few days to travel north of Sydney to Tannum Sands and am hoping more ideas might come along. Other than that, I can say that the fashion sense in Sydney has left me completely stumped and I believe I am making Confusion, no not Confucian, my middle name, since I don't have one. Bicycles are ridden on sidewalks so forget needing to look down for dog poop, like in Argentina...most constantly turn their heads around and then dodge just in time not be taken out by none other than a bike wheel. I definitely understand, though, why people love Sydney and want to come back. I'll wait for another time to touch on Aboriginal treatment. Although, I will say that I see why Capetown reminds people of Sydney and Sydney reminds others of Capetown. Hopefully, in the future, I'll have more random thoughts about that one. Please stay tuned for more because I'm hoping a little getaway will be just the thing to bring some more ideas!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Thailand
Resembling the landscape of Northern Malaysia, Northern Thailand is covered with rice paddies, rolling hills, dense green vegetation and small rivers squiggling all over. Daily mid-afternoon rains are expected and are fit into the days schedule. While there are various cities along the way to the northern border, smaller villages are tucked a bit from the main highway. 
Small markets, whether wet, dry or souvenir, randomly appear on the side of the highways. Live frogs bagged to suffocate and be purchased by hungry shoppers line the markets. There are crickets, worms, even eels all waiting to be consumed. A courageous group of foreigners decided to try fried grasshoppers and worms.
Just a bit cruchy to start and not too much of a tickle down the throat, grasshoppers don't taste the best...I would suggest having some water or maybe some beer available to help it go down. Unfortunately for us, we didn't have the latter so we were stuck with a grasshopper after taste. Silk worms aren't as bad, but still a bit crunchy.
Half the battle is the knowledge of what is being eaten. Then it's just a snack.
Historical sites from Sukothai to markets in Chiang Mai, there is a dichotomy of life...the quiet life or the loud one. The quiet life is lead by temples and small hostels squeezed into the tropical trees. Some temples are enhanced by Buddhas with a Greek sense, influenced by Alexander.
Others are plated in bright shades of glass adorned with different Buddhas, dragons and paintings depicting Heaven and Hell. Bike rides around the villages divulge hard workers farming, sewing, teaching. Usually yellow will be worn on a Monday to commemorate the King since he was born on a Monday and the color for Monday is indeed yellow.
(For those interested the colors are as follows: Monday-yellow, Tuesday-pink, Wednesday-green, Thursday-orange [I was born on Thursday and have had the hardest time finding a pleasant orange that does not make me stick out even more!] Friday-blue, Saturday-purple and Sunday-red). 
Tiger Woods, for instance will wear Red on Sundays in golf tournaments since it was the day he was born. Simplicity is a traditional Buddhist teaching and the quiet life speaks to such an idea.
Cities like Lampang or Chiang Mai speak more to the loud life. Night markets line the streets, bars play loud music to entice the tourists, songtaew drivers rush around trying to avoid traffic.
Up a windy hill sits one of the largest temples, Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep Rajvoravihara (please don't ask for me to indicate how to pronounce this...I have no idea), where sometimes the monks can be heard chanting. Unfortunately, we weren't able to witness this, but we were able to snap photos of our own Buddhas. 
In the same way that each day represents a different color, each day has its own specific Buddha. Monday-standing with right arm raised, Tuesday- laying on right side, Wednesday- standing holding an alms bowl, Thursday- meditating, Friday- standing with hands crossed toward the body, Saturday- meditating with serpents and Sunday- standing arms down. (Check out http://baanjochim.wordpress.com/2007/06/24/the-seven-days-of-thai-buddhism to get more information on the significance of each position). The tranquility is left on the hill overlooking the whole city while the hustle and bustle continues down below.
A classic way to end such a journey before returning back South is an overnight train. Some overnight trains consist of disco balls and an all night party of dancing. Lucky for us, we missed that one.
Instead our seats are made into small, short beds, lights stay on all night only partially shaded with a curtain and loud knocking noises meet the ears when the doors don't properly close. Tossing and turning won't do much until the last and final attempt to fall asleep bears the fruit of the staff waking everyone as it is almost time to disembark.
The return to Bangkok can either be relaxing or overwhelming. Bangkok is a city where there is a never ending list of things to do and places to go. Temples line the streets- the most popular being Wat Pho with the largest reclining Buddha (for those who were born on a Tuesday).
The Grand Palace is quite a site with the shockingly tiny Emerald Buddha. Snake temples are not far. Gardens are scattered around the city as are markets crowded with bartering tourists. (What a shock it will be to go to a store in Australia and not be able to barter). The Jatachuk market is one of the largest markets I have ever witnessed in my life.
There are around 8,000 stalls with different categories of every item imagined. Thai boxing is a popular event, when it's open. On the relaxing end, Thai massages are an amazing experience, canal tours provide a nice view of the city and a nice tuk tuk ride can take anyone anywhere.
From one end to another, it is difficult to move every 2 days or so, but the amount crammed into three weeks has been worth it.
Extra fees can throw a wrench into plans but overall, there are too many events to list that I would not have witnessed had I not done this tour. Every place we've been from Singapore up to Chiang Mai has been completely different and yet these places are so close to each other. I wanted a sense of the cultures and I certainly have reached my goal.
Small markets, whether wet, dry or souvenir, randomly appear on the side of the highways. Live frogs bagged to suffocate and be purchased by hungry shoppers line the markets. There are crickets, worms, even eels all waiting to be consumed. A courageous group of foreigners decided to try fried grasshoppers and worms.
Just a bit cruchy to start and not too much of a tickle down the throat, grasshoppers don't taste the best...I would suggest having some water or maybe some beer available to help it go down. Unfortunately for us, we didn't have the latter so we were stuck with a grasshopper after taste. Silk worms aren't as bad, but still a bit crunchy.
Half the battle is the knowledge of what is being eaten. Then it's just a snack.
Historical sites from Sukothai to markets in Chiang Mai, there is a dichotomy of life...the quiet life or the loud one. The quiet life is lead by temples and small hostels squeezed into the tropical trees. Some temples are enhanced by Buddhas with a Greek sense, influenced by Alexander.
Others are plated in bright shades of glass adorned with different Buddhas, dragons and paintings depicting Heaven and Hell. Bike rides around the villages divulge hard workers farming, sewing, teaching. Usually yellow will be worn on a Monday to commemorate the King since he was born on a Monday and the color for Monday is indeed yellow.
(For those interested the colors are as follows: Monday-yellow, Tuesday-pink, Wednesday-green, Thursday-orange [I was born on Thursday and have had the hardest time finding a pleasant orange that does not make me stick out even more!] Friday-blue, Saturday-purple and Sunday-red). 
Tiger Woods, for instance will wear Red on Sundays in golf tournaments since it was the day he was born. Simplicity is a traditional Buddhist teaching and the quiet life speaks to such an idea.
Cities like Lampang or Chiang Mai speak more to the loud life. Night markets line the streets, bars play loud music to entice the tourists, songtaew drivers rush around trying to avoid traffic.
Up a windy hill sits one of the largest temples, Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep Rajvoravihara (please don't ask for me to indicate how to pronounce this...I have no idea), where sometimes the monks can be heard chanting. Unfortunately, we weren't able to witness this, but we were able to snap photos of our own Buddhas. 
In the same way that each day represents a different color, each day has its own specific Buddha. Monday-standing with right arm raised, Tuesday- laying on right side, Wednesday- standing holding an alms bowl, Thursday- meditating, Friday- standing with hands crossed toward the body, Saturday- meditating with serpents and Sunday- standing arms down. (Check out http://baanjochim.wordpress.com/2007/06/24/the-seven-days-of-thai-buddhism to get more information on the significance of each position). The tranquility is left on the hill overlooking the whole city while the hustle and bustle continues down below.
A classic way to end such a journey before returning back South is an overnight train. Some overnight trains consist of disco balls and an all night party of dancing. Lucky for us, we missed that one.
Instead our seats are made into small, short beds, lights stay on all night only partially shaded with a curtain and loud knocking noises meet the ears when the doors don't properly close. Tossing and turning won't do much until the last and final attempt to fall asleep bears the fruit of the staff waking everyone as it is almost time to disembark.
The return to Bangkok can either be relaxing or overwhelming. Bangkok is a city where there is a never ending list of things to do and places to go. Temples line the streets- the most popular being Wat Pho with the largest reclining Buddha (for those who were born on a Tuesday).
The Grand Palace is quite a site with the shockingly tiny Emerald Buddha. Snake temples are not far. Gardens are scattered around the city as are markets crowded with bartering tourists. (What a shock it will be to go to a store in Australia and not be able to barter). The Jatachuk market is one of the largest markets I have ever witnessed in my life.
There are around 8,000 stalls with different categories of every item imagined. Thai boxing is a popular event, when it's open. On the relaxing end, Thai massages are an amazing experience, canal tours provide a nice view of the city and a nice tuk tuk ride can take anyone anywhere.
From one end to another, it is difficult to move every 2 days or so, but the amount crammed into three weeks has been worth it.
Extra fees can throw a wrench into plans but overall, there are too many events to list that I would not have witnessed had I not done this tour. Every place we've been from Singapore up to Chiang Mai has been completely different and yet these places are so close to each other. I wanted a sense of the cultures and I certainly have reached my goal.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Elephant Conservation Center
Housing about 86 elephants, the Elephant Conservation Center encompasses a bathing area, a special camp for the retired Royal Elephants, a training area and plenty of hilly, plush, green land for the elephants to roam, if they are allowed. Mostly trained for logging, these elephants can pull, lift, push and even walk on logs. Some are trained to paint or even play the xylophone. Absolutely amazing. 
Now that logging is illegal in Thailand and they are no longer used to fight in war, not very many people want much to do with elephants. Though sometimes they are still used for the illegal logging, elephants are also used as tourist attractions in the cities. Pay a small fee to have an elephant ride around the city to enjoy the views without seeing the behind closed doors treatment...a little stab here, a little poke there, not enough food or water.
How bout a jab with a spike? Luckily, education is working and more people are sending elephants to the Conservation Center. While we don't see what happens when tourists aren't around, it is much better treatment than if the elephants were left to their owners.
Traditionally, each elephant born for work or any sort of training will have one Mahout, a trainer, for the duration of his/her life. Elephants can outlive humans so usually being a Mahout is a family business. In the illegal practices of logging or tourism in the city, Mahouts change all the time throwing off the elephants.
The bond between the animal and the Mahout is one of complete trust. Watching one of the Mahouts try and get his elephant in the water for a bath was like watching a mom and her three year old fight over a bath. The elephant eventually got in the water, but the care the Mahout took in doing so is noteworthy.
If one of the elephants happens to become ill, the first ever elephant hospital is just nearby. The hospital was started in 1993 after a series of reports of elephants having their feet or legs blown off, from the landmines scattered at the Thailand-Burma border. Before this hospital, the elephants would have been left in the wild to die.
Now, owners can bring their elephants to the hospital for rehabilitation. Once the animal is better, the owner has the choice to take the elephant back or leave it at the hospital. If the owner decides not to take the animal back, it will stay at the Conservation Center or the hospital.
Mohtala was the first elephant patient at the Conservation Center. She lost her foot and part of her leg to a landmine. She would have been left in the wild. Instead, she was brought to the hospital where 30 veterinarians operated on her. They gave her enough anesthesia for to knock out 70 humans.
Her surgery was successful and because of her technology is being improved to create prosthetic limbs for elephants. Now Mohtala is in her 40s and still going strong. In addition to Mohtala, there was a baby elephant, who was a little over a year old. She stepped on a landmine at 7 months.
Her mother and she have been brought to the hospital, not only for rehabilitation but also for proper weaning. Elephants are not just brought there for surgery. Depression, pregnancy (there was a 3 week old baby there too), Anemia and other ailments are also prevalent.
Given that animal rights are vastly different around the world, it is comforting to know that there are people working hard to cause social change and attitudes one elephant at a time.
Now that logging is illegal in Thailand and they are no longer used to fight in war, not very many people want much to do with elephants. Though sometimes they are still used for the illegal logging, elephants are also used as tourist attractions in the cities. Pay a small fee to have an elephant ride around the city to enjoy the views without seeing the behind closed doors treatment...a little stab here, a little poke there, not enough food or water.
How bout a jab with a spike? Luckily, education is working and more people are sending elephants to the Conservation Center. While we don't see what happens when tourists aren't around, it is much better treatment than if the elephants were left to their owners.
Traditionally, each elephant born for work or any sort of training will have one Mahout, a trainer, for the duration of his/her life. Elephants can outlive humans so usually being a Mahout is a family business. In the illegal practices of logging or tourism in the city, Mahouts change all the time throwing off the elephants.
The bond between the animal and the Mahout is one of complete trust. Watching one of the Mahouts try and get his elephant in the water for a bath was like watching a mom and her three year old fight over a bath. The elephant eventually got in the water, but the care the Mahout took in doing so is noteworthy.
If one of the elephants happens to become ill, the first ever elephant hospital is just nearby. The hospital was started in 1993 after a series of reports of elephants having their feet or legs blown off, from the landmines scattered at the Thailand-Burma border. Before this hospital, the elephants would have been left in the wild to die.
Now, owners can bring their elephants to the hospital for rehabilitation. Once the animal is better, the owner has the choice to take the elephant back or leave it at the hospital. If the owner decides not to take the animal back, it will stay at the Conservation Center or the hospital.
Mohtala was the first elephant patient at the Conservation Center. She lost her foot and part of her leg to a landmine. She would have been left in the wild. Instead, she was brought to the hospital where 30 veterinarians operated on her. They gave her enough anesthesia for to knock out 70 humans.
Her surgery was successful and because of her technology is being improved to create prosthetic limbs for elephants. Now Mohtala is in her 40s and still going strong. In addition to Mohtala, there was a baby elephant, who was a little over a year old. She stepped on a landmine at 7 months.
Her mother and she have been brought to the hospital, not only for rehabilitation but also for proper weaning. Elephants are not just brought there for surgery. Depression, pregnancy (there was a 3 week old baby there too), Anemia and other ailments are also prevalent.
Given that animal rights are vastly different around the world, it is comforting to know that there are people working hard to cause social change and attitudes one elephant at a time.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Ko Samui- Giant's Fishbowl
We have encountered many forms of transportation including a ferry out to Ko Samui. I see why some may call it Paradise. Though we arrived at the beginning of rainy season, it is no cause for a detterent to enjoy the island and beaches galour. 
Snorkeling, sailing and sun-tanning are all traditional highlights to the resorts. Massages, dancing and drinking all provide afternoon and evening entertainment. Afternoon rains rarely put a damper on plans, unless you are caught in the downpour or the electrity goes out for an undetermined amount of time. 
Beaches are subject to the stereotypical illustration of an earthly paradise- white sandy beaches, pale blue or light green water with dark areas marking underwater rocks. Palm trees lining the beaches create a picturesque Corona commercial. Islands big and small, within view, tease visitors with all sort of possible adventures.
We chose our adventure as diving off the coast of Koh Tao- a medium sized island by land but one or two streets long as a town. Setting off to two sites, Mango Bay and Japanese Garden, we dove for 2 hours.
To be sure to have a successful dive, it is important to have enough weight on the weight belt- this way the probability of shooting up to the surface is lowered- unless you're me. Once my weight was fixed, the dive went beautifully.
Diving, to me, is like being in a giant's fishbowl. I was waiting for some young giant's chubby finger to tap or bang on the glass, to get my attention. Coral, rock, fish, mussels, clam- all look much bigger, yet somehow I till knew I didn't fit in.
A school of hundreds of Fusiliers congregated near where we were. I positioned myself underneath them and the specs of light shining through magnificently lit up the fish. A giant clam peacefully sat looking large enough to fit at least my head in it's mouth. Our second dive fashioned a narrow and low ceilinged swim through. It is pertinent to make sure not to hit any coral so as not to destroy it.
Swimming in the open is a difficult feat enough not to slam into the coral, but when there's a narrow way to swim it becomes much harder. Don't worry- I think my fin hit the wall once.
Fish swim around you like you're just another part of their world. Fish eggs float like mini jellyfish preparing to hatch. Triggerfish are kept at a distance as to not aggravate them.
Sea cucumber small and large slump to a side on the ocean floor while Bannerfish bottom feed looking for some nice snacks. Sea anemones flinch to a soft touch and small mussels close with the snap of fingers.
Though changed by human interference, the colors are never-ending. A soon as you think you've seen all the colors, a new fish comes by challening the previous thought. These aren't just the standard rainbow colors of a prism taught to children.
Various shades of all colors imaginable and thensome paint the marine life. To take a few colors above the water would do grievous damage to any fashion sense, yet all the colors together underwater miraculouly match.
They match in such a manner that it is just understood that these organisms were intentionally placed together.
Though tired and quite hungry after a dive, the reward is a cooled beverage on the beach, listening to the waves, watching the few lights scattered on the horizon, firelit lanterns floating by in the sky and of course, the quick on-set of a migraine.
Just as disruptive the word migraine is to this description is how disruptive it felt. Luckily, it didn't take away from my experience as a whole. Ko Samui is definitely a worthwhile getaway. I would add it to the list.
Snorkeling, sailing and sun-tanning are all traditional highlights to the resorts. Massages, dancing and drinking all provide afternoon and evening entertainment. Afternoon rains rarely put a damper on plans, unless you are caught in the downpour or the electrity goes out for an undetermined amount of time. 
Beaches are subject to the stereotypical illustration of an earthly paradise- white sandy beaches, pale blue or light green water with dark areas marking underwater rocks. Palm trees lining the beaches create a picturesque Corona commercial. Islands big and small, within view, tease visitors with all sort of possible adventures.We chose our adventure as diving off the coast of Koh Tao- a medium sized island by land but one or two streets long as a town. Setting off to two sites, Mango Bay and Japanese Garden, we dove for 2 hours.
To be sure to have a successful dive, it is important to have enough weight on the weight belt- this way the probability of shooting up to the surface is lowered- unless you're me. Once my weight was fixed, the dive went beautifully. Diving, to me, is like being in a giant's fishbowl. I was waiting for some young giant's chubby finger to tap or bang on the glass, to get my attention. Coral, rock, fish, mussels, clam- all look much bigger, yet somehow I till knew I didn't fit in.
A school of hundreds of Fusiliers congregated near where we were. I positioned myself underneath them and the specs of light shining through magnificently lit up the fish. A giant clam peacefully sat looking large enough to fit at least my head in it's mouth. Our second dive fashioned a narrow and low ceilinged swim through. It is pertinent to make sure not to hit any coral so as not to destroy it.
Swimming in the open is a difficult feat enough not to slam into the coral, but when there's a narrow way to swim it becomes much harder. Don't worry- I think my fin hit the wall once.
Fish swim around you like you're just another part of their world. Fish eggs float like mini jellyfish preparing to hatch. Triggerfish are kept at a distance as to not aggravate them.
Sea cucumber small and large slump to a side on the ocean floor while Bannerfish bottom feed looking for some nice snacks. Sea anemones flinch to a soft touch and small mussels close with the snap of fingers.Though changed by human interference, the colors are never-ending. A soon as you think you've seen all the colors, a new fish comes by challening the previous thought. These aren't just the standard rainbow colors of a prism taught to children.
Various shades of all colors imaginable and thensome paint the marine life. To take a few colors above the water would do grievous damage to any fashion sense, yet all the colors together underwater miraculouly match.
They match in such a manner that it is just understood that these organisms were intentionally placed together.
Though tired and quite hungry after a dive, the reward is a cooled beverage on the beach, listening to the waves, watching the few lights scattered on the horizon, firelit lanterns floating by in the sky and of course, the quick on-set of a migraine.
Just as disruptive the word migraine is to this description is how disruptive it felt. Luckily, it didn't take away from my experience as a whole. Ko Samui is definitely a worthwhile getaway. I would add it to the list.
10 Things I Love About Singapore!!
10) People actually drive in the designated lanes.
9) Drivers use turn signals and follow the speed limit.
8) Gum is banned.
7) Rubbish bins are on the street.
6) All establishments have air conditioning.
5) I can drink the tap water.
4) Arabtown. (I miss Middle Eastern food!!)
3) Hotels have hair dryers.
2) Food
1) COFFEE BEAN AND TEA LEAF IS HERE!!! You can't even find it all over the US!
THE END
9) Drivers use turn signals and follow the speed limit.
8) Gum is banned.
7) Rubbish bins are on the street.
6) All establishments have air conditioning.
5) I can drink the tap water.
4) Arabtown. (I miss Middle Eastern food!!)
3) Hotels have hair dryers.
2) Food
1) COFFEE BEAN AND TEA LEAF IS HERE!!! You can't even find it all over the US!
THE END
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Malay Hideaway
Twenty kilometers outside of Kuala Kangsar in the Malaysian state of Perak, lies a trickle of man-made islands on a man-made lake, Tasik Cenderoh. Nestled among the dense, plush greenery is SukaSuka Lake Retreat, run by a family of 3- the youngest to stand about 3 feet tall and greet everyone individually with a "Welcome to my house." 
The calm and serenity hit most during the 10 minute boat ride from the mainland, when it's apparent that the hustle and bustle of the city is long gone. 
Any stress or continuous plaguing thoughts slowly drift away leaving only the peace that envelopes everyone. It's possible to fight the calm, but the fight won't last long.
One room bungalows scatter the shore with open air community areas for continued
relaxation. Benches facing different directions of the lake provide various and spectacular views. One lonely hammock sags between two trees challenging whomever to not hit the ground upon sitting.
Silence is coupled with crickets in the distance until broken by the gecko's call to indicate truth telling among the visitors. Few sit within the same vicinity but none feels obligated to speak- just feel.
Not far from SukaSuka is Batu Ring, a small village of 250- home to a nameless waterfall about 10 meters high. The winding trail hops, skips and jumps back and forth across the river.
Slippery rocks become obstacles overcome either by dropping into the river, feet consumed by the water or by perfecting enough balance to get across with the lightest step. The small climb up the rocks to the waterfall pool is quite worth it. The water bubbles matching the sound of the water hitting the pool.
The cool water envelopes the body with only a slight gasp of air before comfortability sets in. Diving off the rocks just next to the fall provides some entertainment. Standing under the fall is like nothing else- to have the pure weight bearing down crashing into the current of the river creates a sense of purity. Purity met by leeches is an unforeseen paradox to the whole experience.
There's nothing like a traditional home cooked Malaysian meal to follow the leech infested hike to the waterfall. Both men and women clad in sarongs follow their host to their seats on the floor in the dining area. Sitting cross legged is the more traditional way to sit. Only the right hand is used to scoop the various dishes onto the padded down rice.
The right of refusal is permitted only when a guest succeeds in finishing their plate before their designated host does. Without this, a guest cannot refuse more rice or food. Conversation is the best indicator of a successful dinner while lack thereof is seen as a near disaster. Great conversation is had by all until it is time to retreat to separate bungalows. A good night sleep is possible though comfortability is challenged by mosquito nets and the foreign sounds all around.
The calm and serenity hit most during the 10 minute boat ride from the mainland, when it's apparent that the hustle and bustle of the city is long gone. 
Any stress or continuous plaguing thoughts slowly drift away leaving only the peace that envelopes everyone. It's possible to fight the calm, but the fight won't last long.
One room bungalows scatter the shore with open air community areas for continued
relaxation. Benches facing different directions of the lake provide various and spectacular views. One lonely hammock sags between two trees challenging whomever to not hit the ground upon sitting.
Silence is coupled with crickets in the distance until broken by the gecko's call to indicate truth telling among the visitors. Few sit within the same vicinity but none feels obligated to speak- just feel.
Not far from SukaSuka is Batu Ring, a small village of 250- home to a nameless waterfall about 10 meters high. The winding trail hops, skips and jumps back and forth across the river.
Slippery rocks become obstacles overcome either by dropping into the river, feet consumed by the water or by perfecting enough balance to get across with the lightest step. The small climb up the rocks to the waterfall pool is quite worth it. The water bubbles matching the sound of the water hitting the pool.
The cool water envelopes the body with only a slight gasp of air before comfortability sets in. Diving off the rocks just next to the fall provides some entertainment. Standing under the fall is like nothing else- to have the pure weight bearing down crashing into the current of the river creates a sense of purity. Purity met by leeches is an unforeseen paradox to the whole experience.
There's nothing like a traditional home cooked Malaysian meal to follow the leech infested hike to the waterfall. Both men and women clad in sarongs follow their host to their seats on the floor in the dining area. Sitting cross legged is the more traditional way to sit. Only the right hand is used to scoop the various dishes onto the padded down rice.
The right of refusal is permitted only when a guest succeeds in finishing their plate before their designated host does. Without this, a guest cannot refuse more rice or food. Conversation is the best indicator of a successful dinner while lack thereof is seen as a near disaster. Great conversation is had by all until it is time to retreat to separate bungalows. A good night sleep is possible though comfortability is challenged by mosquito nets and the foreign sounds all around.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Americanization
To walk out the front gate is a different adventure each day. Some days, people could care less that I exist and others, it's as if the whole world or time stops as I pass. Men drilling stop to take a look; women in the middle of their morning gossip pause to gawk. Children repeat the only phrase they know, "How are you?"-some without full comprehension of what they're saying and others too shy to respond when the question is returned. For the children, it becomes a game, or a dare. how many points does one get for asking the question? for touching the mzungu's hand? or getting a wave? Children run up to stroke my arm, grab my hand, or just to get a closer look. Some volunteers have even had their arms licked because we might taste differently or our skin might taste like ice cream. I have even had one girl jump away from my out-stretched hand afraid to be touched by the white.
Past the children, adults murmur mzungu, make cat calls or just plain ask me to walk over to their stand to buy their merchandise. Some laugh or nervously giggle. Not one day goes by that I am not asked for money, whether by adults or children. For this, I thank missionaries. Some groups that come, flash their money, bunches of gifts and leave after they've "helped" some poor people. When problems continue, and band-aid methods wear off, who is left to help? Put this idea together with the
televangelists who litter television channels with the idea that god wants you to be rich, have a big house and multiple cars. Add the half-naked women on the television screen and a stereotype emerges. Ideas of belief will grant you all these things juxtaposed with the provocative dancing make quite a negative impression of Americans. No wonder there is such a poor image of Americans! It makes sense, then, why I've heard speeches of, "We need money, and if we wait god will provide, and white volunteers will give us money."
How easy it is for Americans to be blamed for so much? Japanese officials are concerned over American influence on their constituents because of an average weight gain. Yet, when they've instituted classes run by Taebo Master, Billy Banks, there is no mention of him being an American and the influence of exercise. CNN reports on English banks having problems with lending money and how the average debt in England has increased because US lenders told them to lend more with lower interest rates. Interesting.
One might think that if the US president were to speak, it would put everything into perspective and restore a sense of rationality outside of the US. Unfortunately, we can't even put any hope in that. Bushisms are the best resource and indicator of why this is true. If countries get fatter its the US, if there is a bomb, it's the US, if there is poverty, it's the US. White Man's Burden comes to mind- born into privilege by the color of my skin, I belong to the group responsible for all the problems in the world and therefore need to fix them. Maybe, for some of us as individuals, we can try and do some damage control, but unfortunately, that is one struggle I'm not sure I want to continue fighting. People won't change their minds unless they want to- I'll stick with being seen as only worth money and focus on my own guilt for not being able to do more.
Past the children, adults murmur mzungu, make cat calls or just plain ask me to walk over to their stand to buy their merchandise. Some laugh or nervously giggle. Not one day goes by that I am not asked for money, whether by adults or children. For this, I thank missionaries. Some groups that come, flash their money, bunches of gifts and leave after they've "helped" some poor people. When problems continue, and band-aid methods wear off, who is left to help? Put this idea together with the
televangelists who litter television channels with the idea that god wants you to be rich, have a big house and multiple cars. Add the half-naked women on the television screen and a stereotype emerges. Ideas of belief will grant you all these things juxtaposed with the provocative dancing make quite a negative impression of Americans. No wonder there is such a poor image of Americans! It makes sense, then, why I've heard speeches of, "We need money, and if we wait god will provide, and white volunteers will give us money."
How easy it is for Americans to be blamed for so much? Japanese officials are concerned over American influence on their constituents because of an average weight gain. Yet, when they've instituted classes run by Taebo Master, Billy Banks, there is no mention of him being an American and the influence of exercise. CNN reports on English banks having problems with lending money and how the average debt in England has increased because US lenders told them to lend more with lower interest rates. Interesting.
One might think that if the US president were to speak, it would put everything into perspective and restore a sense of rationality outside of the US. Unfortunately, we can't even put any hope in that. Bushisms are the best resource and indicator of why this is true. If countries get fatter its the US, if there is a bomb, it's the US, if there is poverty, it's the US. White Man's Burden comes to mind- born into privilege by the color of my skin, I belong to the group responsible for all the problems in the world and therefore need to fix them. Maybe, for some of us as individuals, we can try and do some damage control, but unfortunately, that is one struggle I'm not sure I want to continue fighting. People won't change their minds unless they want to- I'll stick with being seen as only worth money and focus on my own guilt for not being able to do more.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Lions and Zebras and Gazelles, oh my!
Eight hundred and twenty-five square miles of land, Masaimara is one of the best places to take a safari because there are roads all over the property to allow close viewing of the animals. Masaimara stretches all the way across the southern part of Kenya meeting the Serengeti in Tanzania. In Tanzania, there is only one road around the whole area so travelers look from afar at the animals. Luckily for us, we went during the wildabeest migration. 
This can only be seen from August until September when the wildabeests migrate from Kenya to Tanzania trekking around 250 kilometers. They have to cross the Mara River and take on the crocodiles and intense currents. The river itself is not very wide, but it has caused quite some harm to the migration (not enough to hurt the actual population of wildabeests).
Such amazing creatures they are that they run and migrate in single file. Truly amazing to watch as well as the mingling with zebras, buffalos, impalas and gazelles.
Our first day, we drove the six hours to Masaimara and went on a dusk excursion for 3 hours. What luck that on our first night, we saw 4 out of 5 of the Big 5. The Big Five are the five animals that were considered to be the most desired to hunt. They are the lion, buffalo, elephant, leopard and rhino. We saw all but the rhino. In all of Masaimara, there are only 32 rhinos and there are the rarest of them all, the black rhino.
Leopards and elephants are also considered to be rare. We saw lots of elephants and had them near our campsite since we heard them one morning. Leopards are extremely rare and are different from cheetahs in their shorter tail length, facial markings and inclination to climb trees. Cheetahs have longer tails to aid in their running speed. Leopards usually hunt and live by themselves while cheetahs can be found either alone or in groups of two or three.
Buffalos are one of the only animals were the females have horns as well as the males. The Grand Gazelle, Thompson Gazelle and wildabeests are also known for the females having horns. Gazelles are divided up into family clans and bachelor clans. Bachelors are all the males that have to fight to get into a family clan.
(I know it looks like I superimposed my face onto this picture of the lion, but I swear I didn't. The family clan has one male and many females. The male watches over all the females and will be fought by a male from the bachelor clan in order to take over. Impalas are smaller versions of the gazelles and the females do not have horns. The male ostriches are marked by black feathers and an orange beak, while the females have gray feathers and a gray beak. 
In all we saw ostriches, warthogs, zebras, giraffes, lions, elephants, a cheetah, a leopard, buffalos, wildabeests, hippos, crocodiles, guinea fowls, a hyena, monkeys, baboons, impalas, gazelles, buzzards and vulchers. I think that's everything with the exception of some other birds and little critters.
We almost witnessed the wildabeests actually crossing the river except they became spooked when a bird flew by right as they were about to cross. Instead, I was able to get great footage of the wildabeests running, hundreds of them, in single file, the following day.
Unfortunately, I cannot upload videos to my blog at this point. What was interesting was a lion was hunting the wildabeests while they were running. They halted immediately upon four safari cars stopping. The wildabeests stopped causing the lion to stop. Interesting how they tell us that man hasn't affected life in the Reserve. Eventually, the two lionesses crouched down while the wildabeests took a different route and ran right in front of our car. We also had the luxury of seeing an actual lion pride.
The striking male, the female and their three, 5 week old cubs. It was absolutely beautiful. The mingling of the animals is also very touching and completely natural.
On our second day, we are driven about 100 kilometers to the Tanzania border where they actually briefly drive us over the border and allow us to take pictures. To go farther than that into the Serengeti requires permission and official entrance.
Although we were grateful to see the animals so closely (at times it seemed we were about 10 feet from lions or zebras) it is quite alarming to see the impact of humans. A lioness walked right passed all our cars and was not even fazed by us. The leopard we saw did the same thing.
Trust me, those are hippos behind me. Wildabeests and impalas seemed more alarmed by us and would curb their route or journey until we were no longer a threat. Male lions slept within 15 feet of our motor running and barely looked up to see the noise. Because of the emissions tests or lack thereof, trucks emit such pollution right in the vicinity of the animals. 
At one point, the exhaust pipe of the other van that held the rest of our group blew off and puffs of smoke and exhaust pumped into the air, not far from some zebras. By the end of our tour, I felt quite uncomfortable and decided it was time to move on. One of our last sightings was the lion pride and the trucks kept going around and around in circles of the bushes trying to get the best shot.
The family continued to move, of course to protect their cubs, as the cars followed them. It was amazing to see them but after we continued moving and following them, I felt it was time to move on. On a different note, hunting and poaching are illegal in Kenya and those found committing the act are put to death.
All in all, this has been an extraordinary experience for me. I learned an abundance and we were fortunate to have an amazing guide, Douglas. He did an excellent job getting us the closest he could without crossing the limit on how close we could get. I had to continue reminding myself that these animals were wild and actually had to hunt for their food or walk miles to get to water. We did see some carcasses but I will spare you all of those stories (though I do have some pictures if anyone would like to see them). Just like most everything we've done, I would definitely recommend going on a safari, especially in Masaimara. There's nothing like watching hot air balloons rise over the sunrise with the peaceful picture of zebras, wildabeest, elephants and impalas all convening in the same area.
This can only be seen from August until September when the wildabeests migrate from Kenya to Tanzania trekking around 250 kilometers. They have to cross the Mara River and take on the crocodiles and intense currents. The river itself is not very wide, but it has caused quite some harm to the migration (not enough to hurt the actual population of wildabeests).
Such amazing creatures they are that they run and migrate in single file. Truly amazing to watch as well as the mingling with zebras, buffalos, impalas and gazelles.
Our first day, we drove the six hours to Masaimara and went on a dusk excursion for 3 hours. What luck that on our first night, we saw 4 out of 5 of the Big 5. The Big Five are the five animals that were considered to be the most desired to hunt. They are the lion, buffalo, elephant, leopard and rhino. We saw all but the rhino. In all of Masaimara, there are only 32 rhinos and there are the rarest of them all, the black rhino.
Leopards and elephants are also considered to be rare. We saw lots of elephants and had them near our campsite since we heard them one morning. Leopards are extremely rare and are different from cheetahs in their shorter tail length, facial markings and inclination to climb trees. Cheetahs have longer tails to aid in their running speed. Leopards usually hunt and live by themselves while cheetahs can be found either alone or in groups of two or three.
Buffalos are one of the only animals were the females have horns as well as the males. The Grand Gazelle, Thompson Gazelle and wildabeests are also known for the females having horns. Gazelles are divided up into family clans and bachelor clans. Bachelors are all the males that have to fight to get into a family clan.
(I know it looks like I superimposed my face onto this picture of the lion, but I swear I didn't. The family clan has one male and many females. The male watches over all the females and will be fought by a male from the bachelor clan in order to take over. Impalas are smaller versions of the gazelles and the females do not have horns. The male ostriches are marked by black feathers and an orange beak, while the females have gray feathers and a gray beak. 
In all we saw ostriches, warthogs, zebras, giraffes, lions, elephants, a cheetah, a leopard, buffalos, wildabeests, hippos, crocodiles, guinea fowls, a hyena, monkeys, baboons, impalas, gazelles, buzzards and vulchers. I think that's everything with the exception of some other birds and little critters.
We almost witnessed the wildabeests actually crossing the river except they became spooked when a bird flew by right as they were about to cross. Instead, I was able to get great footage of the wildabeests running, hundreds of them, in single file, the following day.
Unfortunately, I cannot upload videos to my blog at this point. What was interesting was a lion was hunting the wildabeests while they were running. They halted immediately upon four safari cars stopping. The wildabeests stopped causing the lion to stop. Interesting how they tell us that man hasn't affected life in the Reserve. Eventually, the two lionesses crouched down while the wildabeests took a different route and ran right in front of our car. We also had the luxury of seeing an actual lion pride.
The striking male, the female and their three, 5 week old cubs. It was absolutely beautiful. The mingling of the animals is also very touching and completely natural. On our second day, we are driven about 100 kilometers to the Tanzania border where they actually briefly drive us over the border and allow us to take pictures. To go farther than that into the Serengeti requires permission and official entrance.
Although we were grateful to see the animals so closely (at times it seemed we were about 10 feet from lions or zebras) it is quite alarming to see the impact of humans. A lioness walked right passed all our cars and was not even fazed by us. The leopard we saw did the same thing.
Trust me, those are hippos behind me. Wildabeests and impalas seemed more alarmed by us and would curb their route or journey until we were no longer a threat. Male lions slept within 15 feet of our motor running and barely looked up to see the noise. Because of the emissions tests or lack thereof, trucks emit such pollution right in the vicinity of the animals. 
At one point, the exhaust pipe of the other van that held the rest of our group blew off and puffs of smoke and exhaust pumped into the air, not far from some zebras. By the end of our tour, I felt quite uncomfortable and decided it was time to move on. One of our last sightings was the lion pride and the trucks kept going around and around in circles of the bushes trying to get the best shot.
The family continued to move, of course to protect their cubs, as the cars followed them. It was amazing to see them but after we continued moving and following them, I felt it was time to move on. On a different note, hunting and poaching are illegal in Kenya and those found committing the act are put to death.
All in all, this has been an extraordinary experience for me. I learned an abundance and we were fortunate to have an amazing guide, Douglas. He did an excellent job getting us the closest he could without crossing the limit on how close we could get. I had to continue reminding myself that these animals were wild and actually had to hunt for their food or walk miles to get to water. We did see some carcasses but I will spare you all of those stories (though I do have some pictures if anyone would like to see them). Just like most everything we've done, I would definitely recommend going on a safari, especially in Masaimara. There's nothing like watching hot air balloons rise over the sunrise with the peaceful picture of zebras, wildabeest, elephants and impalas all convening in the same area.
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