...to avoid dying of dysentery, of course.
but seriously. show of hands: who remembers that stupid question from childhood, and furthermore, who thought it to be utterly pointless and irrelevant to anything pertaining to real life. i mean, chickens don't cross roads, right?
ah, see... that's where you're wrong. clearly, you've never been to indonesia.
the concept of chickens crossing the road never made any sense to me until i found myself in the back seat of a van as it whizzed through the windy roads of lombok island, indonesia. the roads are about as wide as a one-way, one-lane street, but people in indonesia find it perfectly adequate for a 2 lane highway next to a precarious cliff overlooking the ocean. i just smile and act like i have complete faith that our driver won't lose control of the vehicle and send us plummeting over a cliff into the tropical waters below. i also act like it doesn't bother me that i don't have a seat belt. i guess people sitting in the back seat don't get one. it was on this particular car trip, just before our treacherous trek up mount rinjani, that i saw dozens of chickens cross the road. our driver honked time after time to get them to move out of the way. apparently, they're not smart enough to simply move when they see oncoming traffic, nor do they seem to learn that the road = bad. so they insist on crossing the road and just narrowly escaping an especially gruesome and squishy death.
ah, but i'm getting ahead of myself. this post, really, is about my trip to indonesia, not about chickens. but where do i begin? our harrowing car trip-slash-exercise in effective chicken-dodging tactics is merely the beginning of the many adventures chad, chris, and i experienced on this trip.
last saturday, we arrived in bali. we decided to spend our first night in kuta, a popular destination for tourists. and while the beaches of kuta are beautiful and there are many people, it is so developed that you lose a lot of indonesian personality. starbucks? dunkin donuts? pizza hut? please. if we wanted all those things, we could go back to the states. nevertheless, we discovered that there was a very good middle eastern place down the street from our bungalow, with sheesha for 4usd. 4 dollars and hookah? sign me up. we downed hummus and enjoyed our apple apple tobacco before moving on to some of the local night clubs and resorts. our first stop was ku de ta, which was right on the beach. unfortunately, despite being beautiful, it charged way too much money for drinks. by western standards, it's about right, but in indonesia, you shouldn't spend more than 3 or 4 usd for a mixed drink. feeling a bit underdressed and uncomfortable with the high prices, we moved on to two local favorites: crusoe's and Mbargo. we all enjoyed crusoe's because of the live music and the laid-back atmosphere. but it turns out that this place was also something of a brothel. it didn't take long to figure out. while i was uncomfortable as the only female non-prostitute there, i found the social interactions around me fascinating. i actually liked studying body language and male-female hierarchy. i was angered by the superiority and the sense of entitlement that the men had. even the young ones. i was saddened that the girls were so desperate and by such a degeneration of love and sex.
but then again, i was only observing.
the next day, we spent a few hours on the beach (great surfing, p.s.), before moving on to ubud, a smaller city more inland. i think that ubud was probably my favorite place. i liked our accommodations best there as well. it was quieter, less crowded, less developed, and more bohemian. we wandered through the shops and talked with the locals for a while, then made our way down to the sacred monkey forest. for 1usd, you can buy a bag of bananas to feed wild monkeys. they will come up to you and take them, and some will even sit in your lap. they're very intelligent and incredibly adorable. also, they're very spoiled in the sacred monkey forest. chad took out a banana to feed to one of them. distracted, he didn't notice that another was creeping up behind him until it snatched the entire bag from his hands. i also witnessed chris' monkey mishap. he held out a banana to offer to a monkey, but it didn't want that banana. it wanted the bag. so it tried to grab it, but chris wrestled it away. at this point, the monkey bore its teeth, showing its true colors. chris tried to give the bag back, but at this point, our monkey friend was bored. short tantrum, as it were. nevertheless, chris did manage to give it one banana, but this wasn't enough. it kept throwing said banana to the ground with contempt. spoiled, spoiled monkeys. after this, we had a lovely dinner in a garden and attended an indonesian dance show. the costume and the makeup was amazing, but i think what fascinated me most was the style of dancing. their traditional dancing tells stories through eyes, hands, fingers, and feet. there's very little movement of the entire body and very little facial expression, so the entire dance is punctuated by subtle movements. it is very beautiful and entrancing to watch.
the next day, we had an early cooking lesson at cafe wayan, an indonesian restaurant. they took us to one of their larger restaurants, where we made a 5 or 6 course meal and then ate it. the wonderful thing about the food is that we used only fresh ingredients. they actually had a garden next to the kitchen, where they could pick their spices and vegetables for the meals. the food was amazing, and we all thought that perhaps we were slipping into a food coma. we then spent some time shopping and wandering around before deciding to rent motor scooters and explore bali a little more extensively. this sounded like a lot of fun to me, though i'd never ridden one and i had to remember LEFT side. LEFT side. RIGHT turn, DANGER turn. unfortunately, my lack of experience became painfully apparent when i turned too widely and hit a parked van outside a hotel. i pretty much bounced off it. everyone could see the horror cross my face when it happened. for those who don't know, i've never hit anything in my life. never been in an accident. never received a ticket. chad and chris were quite supportive through it all, though they couldn't keep themselves from laughing. i imagine that i'll never live it down. we had to postpone our motor scooter adventure to get an estimate on fixing the bumper and the scooter. they took us to a local body shop, where they were quoted about 90usd to fix the car and 50usd to fix the bike. they promised me that if i simply paid that amount, all would be forgiven and, more importantly, forgotten. i didn't argue, because i imagined how much trouble i would have been in had this happened in the states. no international license. no license to drive a scooter. no insurance. hmmmmm. very rarely can you pay a paltry $150 to make something go away. after paying my debts and briefly seeing my life flash before my eyes, i decided to get back on and keep truckin. gotta get back on the horse, right? i am happy to report that i didn't hit anything else for the rest of our trip. we traversed the winding roads of rural bali, stopping every so often to take in the vast sprawl of rice fields around us. we also visited the "elephant caves." don't get too excited. there weren't real elephants there. it's named after ganesh, one of the hindu gods which is, surprise surprise, embodied in elephant form. there, we found a temple, pools to wash oneself before entering the sacred caves, the biggest butterfly i've ever seen in my life, and literal caves where people can go to pray and make offerings. what fascinated me most was the hindu concept of three. they have a sort of idol where one can pray (and i think make offerings to as well?), and our tour guide explained that three is an extremely important number in the hindu tradition. the three statues we saw represent creator, protector, destroyer; birth, living, death; peace with people, the divine, and nature - the view of the world within these lenses of "three" is an integral part of hinduism. very interesting.
the next day, we decided to take a long bus ride and short flight to lombok, an island not far removed from bali. it is, by and large, the road less traveled, and we wanted to experience some true island living. upon arrival, we found our accommodations for the night and set out exploring. the island of lombok is even quieter than kuta. there are far fewer tourists, but the poverty is far more apparent than on bali. i noticed that many people have almost nothing. there are also several family farms with small shacks for people to live in. it made me feel like i had so much, seeing how little they lived with.
fun fact: did you know that indonesia has the world's largest muslim population? while the island of bali is hindu, the other islands are muslim. also, did you know that people get up to pray in mosques at absurd hours like 3am? i discovered this because my hotel was next door to a mosque. wowy, prayer is noisy!
we had a delicious authentic indonesian meal, and explored our options for our stay on lombok? scuba diving or mountain climbing? scuba diving or mountain climbing? choices, choices. i had decided against scuba diving, so i left it up to the guys to decide what they wanted. if they decided to take the courses to get their padi certifications, i would either climb a mountain by myself or spend my days snorkeling, swimming, or lying on the beach. finally, we reached a consensus: we would all climb... nay, conquer... nay, bitch slap... mount rinjani. we'd already done some recreational mountain climbing in taipei. how hard could it be, right?
...i'm actually surprised to be alive after that climb.
nobody warned us about what we'd be facing, and that we would need a fair amount of materials to make this trip comfortable, if not simply possible. materials like: sweatshirts, strong hiking boots with excellent arch support, long pants, and maybe a month of steady conditioning. the trail began easy enough... climbing over roots and up a few gentle slopes. but as we progressed, the mountain became a monster of its own. by the time we realized what we were facing, we couldn't turn back... we'd come too far! we'd marched too much to turn back, but the mountain was getting steeper by the step. it began as probably a 25 degree climb for the first quarter, which then evolved into 45. that's okay, we could deal. but the next leg - the leg after lunch - was something like 50 degrees. i was so tired, i wanted to simply pass out. i'd felt like i'd lost all will to keep moving, much less keep breathing. i suppose what kept me going was chris' unfortunate bout with what can only be described as dysentery. and chad was climbing in berkenstocks. surely, if they could keep moving, i could do it too. we finally reached post 3, about 3/4 up the mountain. we would make camp there, eat dinner, then rise early the next morning to make the last 1/4 trek up to the rim at sunrise. after that, we would hike down to the bottom. unfortunately, i had a few thin sweaters that i managed to layer to generate a paltry extra heat, chris was still suffering, and chad had only his sarong, which he wore as a cape for warmth. it was a long, blustery night for us. while the company that we were going through provided a guide, porters, food, and camping equipment, we were otherwise ill-equipped for this journey. chris got his own tent, which was probably good because he was feeling so sick, so chad and i shared, and probably got about 3 hours worth of sleep combined. we shivered and turned all night long trying to generate enough warmth to go to sleep. parts of my body were so hot, they were sweating, while other extremities were so cold, they had goose bumps. somehow, we made it through our night of misery and arose in the still of darkness for the last leg of our climb. the air was the cleanest i've ever breathed. the forest was so quiet it was almost deafening. the stars were brighter than i'd ever seen them. God's glory abounded. we witnessed the sun peaking up over the mountains of bali and the ocean as we hiked. however, this hike felt pretty much vertical, on loose sand and rock. but we're troopers, and we made it to the top. looking inside an active volcano is an experience i'll never forget. everything was so green and huge and beautiful. we breathed a sigh of victory as we shivered uncontrollably in the morning cold. after about an hour marveling at the top, we headed back down to base camp. okay, so the walk down was more of a stumble/slide. i may have scars forever.
verdict? totally worth it.
at base camp, we received transport to one of the ports at lombok so that we could take a boat to the gigi islands, a few desolate beaches about 45 minutes away. on the gigis, there are no motor vehicles, and everything moves a little more slowly. the ocean is clear and the sand is white. we arrived at the port, which is a whole lot of desperation crammed into one place. everywhere, people want to carry your bags, sell you something, do anything to extract money from you. they don't even ask. they see a car pull up, and they ambush it to carry your bags so that they can charge you. finally, we managed to escape and head to gigi. in transit, we met a friendly bar promoter named jules, who helped us find our way around the island. he knew good places to go, and was generally good company. we located an adequate place to sleep, and spent the rest of the night exploring the islands, eating, and having a few drinks. unfortunately, our trek in rinjani severely caught up to me on the islands. i woke up the next day with horrible stiffness and the worst hangover i've ever experienced. i hadn't even had much to drink the night before; it was something like 3 over the course of 6 or 7 hours. i'd simply been sipping, but it all hit me horribly the next day. i think it did not mix with my fatigue and dehydration, and it produced a very uncomfortable, persistent nausea all day long. it wasn't even intense, just a prolonged discomfort. chad was also struck with the same rigor mortis-like qualities in his limbs, and we both waddled from place to place. we couldn't even go up and down stairs without bracing ourselves. as is typical with our relationship, though, we thought it was a fun game to hit each other in the thighs unexpectedly, just to elicit a response. why? team-building, we say. chris, fortunately, didn't have the same problems. he actually recovered quite well from our trek, and i'm pretty sure he deserved it after 2 days of misery. he did, however, take a tremendous (and possibly cruel) amount of pleasure laughing at chad and me as we crept along and grimaced. nevertheless, we spent a relaxing day on the beach sipping cold fresh fruit drinks and wading in and out of the water. there's something so therapeutic about the ocean for me. simply being in it makes me feel alive... like the world is exactly the way it was meant to be.
after a morning and afternoon of leisure, we headed back to lombok via boat and to bali via plane for one more night in kuta. chris treated us all to a resort and a beautiful hotel room and we had a delicious dinner. apparently, i crashed as soon as we returned to our room from dinner, but i must say that it was the deepest and most complete sleep i've had in a long while.
the next day, we wandered around bali for a few hours. chad and i had one last balinese massage, and we all bid indonesia goodbye.
indonesia is beautiful and exotic. i only wish we'd had more time to do the scuba diving and surfing, but perhaps another day. this trip was incredible, and i'm so glad i went. i feel like my world opened up even more, and i'm hoping that my heart opened a little more with it. i wouldn't change a thing.
...except maybe the scooter accident.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
question: why did the chicken cross the road?...
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ok, so the prayer at the mosque made me laugh haughtily. i had a friend in my youth group that spent about 2 years with his family in Iran as Christan missionaries (already freaking scary) and when he came back he had a bunch of stories and one specific souvenier(?) that was simply amazing. It was in the shape of a mosque, and would make all the sounds of prayer at whatever hour you set it to. And i mean ALL. it was sooo freaking loud. So of course, it was perfect for pranks on our youth leader who, in turn, managed to capture it vowing not to return it to my friend until after a trip, then used it agaist us in the early, early - about when it's supposed to be going off at 3 early - morning. it SUCKed. that's all.
Oh... and the schooter made me laugh, too. sorry. sort of.
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