Cats, not rats

I had one of the best days today… Seriously, days like this make me realize why traveling is so fantastic and rewarding. It all started last night, when Tabatta and I were heading to Bangandaran (one of the top tourist destination for Indonesians) from Jakarta and we were “scheduled” to arrive at 5 (which really means 8 or 9 in Indonesian time). However, we had forgotten that we were arriving in the city in the middle of Indonesia’s biggest holiday, and on a Saturday night… So the chances of us getting a cheap hotel when we finally arrived in Bangandaran were very slim. So when Tabatta and I realized this, we began to stress-out, as we faced a similar experience in Jakarta, where we arrived late at night, and no hotels were to be found… except for ones charging an exuberant amount of rupiahs. This is when we met an very friendly Indonesian woman on the bus. She was interested to practice her English, and we graciously accepted the opportunity to chat to her about life in Indonesia. After a lengthy discussion, she offered to help us find a hotel in Bangandaran, and she quickly got onto her cell phone and started making calls. She found us a great hotel, and even got her father to greet us at our destination, and bring us to the hotel. We later found-out that some of the tourists traveling with us, who were not fortunate enough to meet super friendly Indonesians on the bus, were charged 5 times more than we were for rooms, and their rooms had rats visiting them frequently.

When we got to Bangandaran, we scarfed down a great meal, which for some reason was on the house (awesome). We also downed a couple of beer, which we have done very little of during the trip. In fact, I think the last time I had a beer during our trip was over a month ago. Cold beer in hot places is a good mix.

This morning began with free breakfast, which is somewhat commonplace in Indonesia… but regularly it consists of bread, old eggs, and tea. Our breakfast was chocolate covered banana pancakes, which couldn’t have been more comforting. We then quickly made a change of hotels, as today is Sunday… which means all the tourists leave… which translates into available rooms that cost much less. We then went to check-out the beach, which couldn’t have had more Indonesian families sprawled across its white sands. I was initially not going to rent a surfboard for the day, as I remembered that I am awful at surfing, which frustrates me so much, as shouldn’t I be at least mediocre at it if I skateboarded and snowboarded for over 8 years? Guess not. I decided to give it another chance, as I still have this stubborn feeling that I am a surfer, and I should be able to catch-a-wave. Well I was well rewarded for my ambition to try again, as I stood on a wave just as soon as I could feel the burn in my shoulders from all the paddling. There seriously isn’t anything much more rewarding than standing above everyone else on the beach, feeling the wind from the speed of the wave, and watching a beautiful beach the entire time.

The guy who rented me the surfboard – Beau, came and chatted with us when we were resting in the shade of a palm tree. He was a really happy man, and just loved the sun, the beach and surf. For him, this place is paradise, and everyday was a blessing for him. He told us that he just recently cut-off his dreadlocks, which he had been growing for over 10 years. As way to part with his dreads, he gave one of his dreads to each of his very close friends as a gift… He told us that his friends were all a little weirded-out by the gift, but they all thanked him eventually.

When the waves got smaller and the sun really began to beat down on the small town of Bangandaran, Tabatta and I headed to the famous fish market. Although the hike there was a little longer than expected, the reward of the most delicious seafood feast was a worthwhile trade-off. We ended-up ordering too much seafood, which we invited some locals to help us finish-it-off.

After my belly felt like it was going to explode, we hit-up the beach again, and had some more luck riding some long waves. We then arrived to our hotel room, where we discovered that a mommy cat recently had some little kittens in the roof of our room. Some travelers would get pretty upset about that… but at least it’s cats, not rats.

Tabatta and I just finished watching a movie with some friends from the hotel, and we are about to take a walk on the beach again… Beautiful day. Thank you Indonesia.

Heading to Jakarta…

Posing with a random Indonesian family... Smile!!!

Tabatta at Lake Maninjau, Indonesia

Gado-gado...

Deep-fried banana... So good.

Guitar playing on the public bus...

After a week on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia, it’s time to venturing-off to the island of Java, where I will eventually find the supposed gem of Asia – Bali. I have been nothing but impressed with the places and people in Indonesia so far, and I expect nothing less in the more southern parts of the country. Even with the continuous smoking, the loud chanting from near-by mosques at all hours of the day and night, incredibly overcrowded city transit, questionable forms of meat, and ongoing horn-honking… the place is a paradise. Everyone wants to say “hello,” and families are always interested to take pictures with foreigners. I really think I’ve already taken over 20 pictures with entire families of Indonesians… without ever meeting them or chatting with them. People love to test-out their English, and are keen on helping-out when tourists look lost. Every park is filled with monkeys, keenly starring at anybody with food. I would much rather spend my afternoon starring at monkeys than scary Canadian squirrels any day. To top everything-off… everything is cheap. I stayed in a room three nights ago that cost me $1.25 a night. It wasn’t all that bad either… Really.

Tabatta has also had some fun here in Indonesia, as people can’t seem to identify what country she is from. While many think she is a famous Bollywood star from India, many mistaken her for an Indonesian, Thai, Malaysian, the list goes on… I can see people just starring at Tabatta, trying to figure-her-out, and they usually end-up approaching her to settle their confusion about her nationality.

I have taken a habit of taking pictures of the foods I have discovered here, as I would like to remember what it looks like when I try to cook it later-on in Canada. For example, this afternoon, Tabatta and I dug into a wonderful deep-fried banana, with condensed milk, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles… It was ridiculously good, and it seems so easy to make. I also have found my favorite dish so far… Gado-gado… Which is essentially a salad, sometimes with noodles, topped with a peanut sauce. It is so tasty.

Another aspect of Indonesia that I love is the quantity of musicians that play music during bus rides. It makes sense really. If you are a musician, and you don’t mind playing in front of crowds, why not play in front of crowds in public places. Canadian musicians can be found to do the same in marketplaces or late night around nightclubs, but tend to be kicked-out of other public places when they attempt to play music. It’s so wonderful to hear live music all the time, and it’s a great way for local musicians to gain exposure as well as to make a few tips from listeners. I think Canadian municipalities should look into allowing the same to occur within their communities. Instead of expecting that everyone wants peace and quiet, force different sounds, rhythms and musical genres upon public. Just like how governments create tax-free zones for large businesses to benefit, governments should look into a silent-free zone, where musicians have all the power to play music at will, without companies or government interference. This would probably anger seniors, and would require a political leader who is truly supportive of the arts… It could happen. Maybe…

Close call

I though it was the end today… Tabatta and I took a three hour hike up a volcano here in Berastagi, Indonesia, and half way to the top, in the middle of nowhere, we were greeted by eight men with guns and motorbikes. I really didn’t know what to do, I just kept walking towards the men, waiting for IT to happen. They were all just looking at us, and Tabatta and I just proceeded with long sighs and repeated grunts. I had no clue what to do when we finally arrived to the men, expect to smile, wave and say “Hello”. That was really my only option… at least my killers would know that I was a pretty decent guy who greeted people nicely. Maybe my niceness would prevent them from killing me in a really painful way? The men all responded with warm smiles and waves in return, which was like receiving a second chance in life. I guess the men were just having fun shooting some illegal game in the middle of a national park. The question is what would you have done? Would you have run? Would you have put up an immediate defence? Or, would you do the Canadian thing and hope that these men were good?

Blame America… Or don’t.

During my travels, I have discovered that tourists from across the world have a general impression of American tourists: arrogant, conservative, un-cultured, and highly stimulated by fighting, guns, sex, drugs, and muscles. Unfortunately for American tourists, they often receive cold treatment from local people in South East Asia, as well as other travelers. This label is so far from the truth. The most interesting, genuine and progressive people I have met during my travels have been Americans, and they have a full-time job of improving America’s image across the world. The American Government for the past several years has basically eroded the respect people may have had of the country. It is now up to the valiant efforts of tourist to prove to the world that the actions of a few gun-slinging capitalist in the White House does not make its citizens the same… Much love to my fellow American travelers. Keep on keepin’ on.

I like playing with kids…

I know… There is like this universal faux-pas for an adult to inform people that they like “playing” with kids. What does that mean? Why would you like kids? In what way to you like kids? What do you mean by “play”? Are you a freak? Are you a pedophile? This is kind of the reasoning that goes behind a normal response to the statement “I like playing with kids”.

In all seriousness, I do thoroughly enjoy playing with kids, and I want to attack the socially-constructed sentiment that I am somewhat weird, threatening, or dangerous to children for stating it. Everywhere I go, I see little kids smiling, running, playing, eating, jumping, dancing, and to be entirely honest… I’m super jealous. When was the last time you saw an adult begin to jump uncontrollably simply because a big dog walks by? Or when was the last time adults have participate in spontaneous running-in-circles with complete strangers in parks? When was the last time a group of random adults came together to invent a new game to entertain themselves for the afternoon? These are all the things I remember of my childhood, and I don’t know when the transition happened, but I am no longer labeled a kid, and I am supposedly expected to enjoy the great pleasure of organized sports with adults, games with too many rules with adults, and proper habits during lunch time with adults.

I was crushed when I realized that I was given the label “grown-up,” but what is even worst, I can’t go back. That was a moment in time, and I enjoyed it while it lasted, and now it’s time to move-on… I DON’T BUY IT. It is potentially one of the greatest discriminatory realities of current Canadian society that adults are not allowed playing in the MacDonald’s playgrounds. Even though I have been provided this new label, I want at least the ability to proudly state my opposition to it. To make things worst, if I am to engage in childish playing now, I immediately receive worriesome looks from onlookers, especially when other children are involved. I’m used to the one-minute “up-and-down” that mothers give me when I play with their children. How can I comfort them, and reassure them that I am really a child who has been wrongfully labelled an adult? I think concerned mothers quickly realize this, which is why I have never had problems freely demonstrating my enjoyement with childish games.

I understand where the worry comes from… for some reason, adults have taken advantage of young children, which has resulted in a general worry across the world of the intentions of adults, especially men, who engage in playtime with young children. Criminals that commit their acts on children are really the bottom of the bottom, and have a lot of rehabilitation to receive. I’m not only aggravated by these criminals who hurt children, but I am also upset because of the result their actions have had on other adults’ ability to enjoy the company and playtime of children. The purity and innocence of adults playing with children is now more often than not called into question. The horrific actions of delinquent adults have made it a social faux-pas for adults to freely play with children.

So to conclude this post: Label me a child… Label me immature… Label me confused… But whatever you do, don’t label me a threat to children because I still want playtime…

Playing with a little girl in the Butterfly Park, Cameron Highlands

Playing arts and crafts with Sofienne's two children...

From Indonesia with love

I’m in Indonesia right now… and my cheeks are really hurting. I wasn’t able to figure-out why my cheeks were hurting so much until I realized it was from all the smiling. Because I found it. This is the place I was looking for. Not many tourist. Culturally distinct. Friendly. Happy. And out of control.

As soon as I flew into the country, I knew that this place was waiting for me… or that I was waiting for it. People really are friendly, and it seems as though that past tourists to this country have yet to destroy the reputation of westerners… Meaning that western travelers tend to destroy positive impressions of western countries, because of excessive partying, fighting, sex, …

I just got back from Bukit Lewang, which was a highlight. I was able to visit an orangutan rehabilitation centre, where I got to come in really close quarters with semi-wild orangutans… There was also this crazy river that you could take tubes down. When I was going down, I realized that the river was more like a lagoon, because I kept running into people squatting in the river pooping… I guess we swim in poop water the majority of the time anyways, it’s just hard to face that reality so vividly.

I actually got sick again when I was in Penang, Malaysia. I had to hit up the hospital again, and get another IV. I had a temperature again, and who knows where it came from this time. I ended up drinking 6 liters of water, and a handful of pills, and now I feel much better. I’m still not 100%, but I’m surviving. When I was sick, a funny incident happened when Tabatta and I were at the hospital. I was using the washroom in the hospital, and for some reason the lights weren’t working, so I asked Tabatta to come into the bathroom with me to hold the flashlight. My hand was still hurting from the fresh incision of the IV, so I had limited ability to use my hands. It was one of those weird Asian toilets (that I still have yet to understand how to properly use), so I just decided to give Tabatta my pants, while I did my thing. When I came out Tabatta was trying to help me put my pants back on, while I was totally naked, and then it had to happen… some dude walked in. Although it was really dark in the bathroom, I could tell that the guy wanted nothing to do with what Tabatta and I were doing, or what we were being perceived to do. Needless to say, I never want to visit that hospital again.

Before Penang, we had quickly visited the Cameron Highlands, which has a cool climate, and produces the majority of produce for all of Malaysia… strawberries, cucumbers, tomatoes, and other things like tea, honey, etc. It was nice to get a little change of climate, as we were just getting back from one of the greatest places in the world… the Perenthian Islands, Malaysia. This place has super cheap accommodations, jungles, turtles, sharks, and so much coral. I saw a two meter long shark, and swam with some pretty cool looking sea turtles. Malaysia was very kind to Tabatta and I, and we could only wish that we visit it’s great territory again someday.

In terms of my general feelings towards travel right now… I’m doing pretty good. It’s hard to let go, and let travel take you over… But it’s what has to happen if you are to benefit from the adventures, the people, and the land. Too much planning, or too many expectations will destroy any possibility for a real and meaningful travel experience. Sleeping in 2 dollar a night rooms, eating 70 cent meals, and traveling in overcrowded and dangerous buses can’t be seen as a detriment or interference to travel, as IT IS THE TRAVEL. The experience, the people, and life’s teachings are found on the road, with it’s vaguely defined destination having very little significance. I was comparing this trek too much with my last one in South America, which made it very difficult for my mind and my heart to accept what Asia was willing to give me. No two travel experiences are the same, and an open-mind is needed to create new perspectives and new insights.

My time on the road has given me much needed critical space, allowing my mind the largest playground to investigate new ideas and thoughts that have been floating around up there for a while now. I have begun making lists of things I want to accomplish… not tomorrow, or in a week, but in life. I’ve started realizing that my mind’s time is precious, and using it up on issues and projects that lack stimulation and meaning is like feeding dog food to a cat. I’ve also realized that I need to control where my mind wonders, as without discipline, minds can be taken over by dangerous things… money, greed, power, popularity, material goods, appearances. Happiness is the true and only destination, and it is an ongoing work-in-progress to fight-off wannabe destinations such as the vices above.

I’m currently working on a commentary on collectivism and its disappearance to the ever-powerful and ever-growing individualism. Hopefully I will have the time to finish it off soon. I hope everyone is having a healthy and happy summer.

From Indonesia with love…

The Peranthians... No explanations needed.

Flowers in the Cameron Highlands

Tabatta looking towards Bukit Lawang (and the poop river)

Up-close with orangutans in Bukit Lawang

“Ensemble” – Coeur de Pirate

Another crazy amazing sound coming-out of Quebec… Enjoy!!!

“Bruises” – Chairlift

This is Chairlift’s new video, which some of you may of heard from the old Ipod commercials. Love the tune.

On Ladyboys…

Ladyboy show in Koh Samui

Koh Samui, Thailand

‘Ladyboys’… There is a huge culture of men who dress like women in Thailand, and from what I can tell, it is much more accepted than in Canada. Seriously, when somebody sees a man dressing like a women in the majority of places I have visited in Canada, people tend to roll their eyes or giggle. Dressing like a women is no joking matter in Thailand (nor should it be in Canada). There appears to be a real pride in men who are able to demonstrate female qualities… I’m sure there are a number of people in Thailand who dislike the actions of ‘ladyboys’, just like in some places in Canada, but from what I can tell from the people I have met in Thailand, there is an understanding of the culture around ‘ladyboys,’ and generally, people tend to respect the lives that ‘ladyboys’ live. For example, one of the most respected Thai boxers (one of the most macho and testosterone-driven sports in Thailand) is also a well known ‘ladyboy’. I think Canadian culture can learn a lot from the spirit of understanding and diversity found in the people I have met in Thailand.

My opinion is: do what you gotta do, and be happy doing it. You go girl… or boy… Whatever floats your boat.

Squirrels vs. Monkeys

Evil Squirrel

Monkey in Railey, Thailand

I have no problem with monkeys. In fact, I love monkey. In Railey, Thailand, I convinced a monkey to eat a piece a corn that I found. The monkey just sat on my shoulder and ate the corn. The entire experience was mind-blowing, and if given the chance, I would do it again.

But the big question is why… Monkeys are not all that nice. Many citizens from Thailand are really afraid of them, because they know what they are capable of: hair pulling, biting, stealing, etc… In addition, many monkeys are pretty unhealthy, and have a real likelihood of carrying pretty scary diseases. And have you ever seen the teeth on monkeys… pretty scary. But to me, not that big of a risk.

Now my comfort with monkeys runs in complete contrast with my inherent fear of squirrels. Squirrels do not hold the same potential for diseases as monkey. Squirrels don’t have the huge teeth that monkeys have. Squirrels tend to be passive, while monkeys are much more aggressive. So why is it that I clench my fists every time I see a squirrel, worrying that they will bite all my fingers off.

Have monkeys been depicted as happy and friendly animals by my upbringing, while squirrels have been depicted as finger eating enemies? Why so much hate for squirrels. Would anybody let a squirrel on their shoulder. I don’t why it is, but I wouldn’t accept $100 to let an evil squirrel on my shoulder.

Maybe squirrel’s in Fredericton aren’t has happy and gentle as other more monkey-like squirrels elsewhere…