idyllic indonesia

Hey all!

Welcome to the final (well, for SE Asia, that is) edition of the EMAIL. You last found us on a boat out of a rainy Singapore, headed towards a small island that is favoured by Singaporeans for a nice weekend getaway - Pulau Bintan, or Bintan Island. Immediately off the ferry, a 'friend' greeted us and 'helped' us get out to the beaches on the east coast. As it turns out, he took his fair share (though denied it later) for his assistance, but he did enable us to get out to an isolated paradise. The place we stayed at was a simple little homestay - a bungalow with attached simple bath, right above the waves at high tide. As crabs scuttled beneath us in the moonlight, we enjoyed the gravely hush of being alone with the ocean for a few days. The family fed us VERY well, and we got along fine, despite the fact we spoke very little of each others' language. Writing, reading, photography, and even a little diving filled our days there. We saw numerous jellyfish (I saw one with six-foot-long stingers!), and I even caught a glimpse of a blue-spotted ray and an octopus with a head the size of a football. Our 'friend' helped us out on the way back, and we regretfully left the island, headed for Sumatra.

Sumatra. Still a pretty jungled landscape, still fairly untouched in terms of tourism development. A land where everything grows and everyone smiles at you. After an eight-hour boat ride from Bintan, we were informed we had a fourteen-hour bus ride ahead of us to get to our next destination, Bukittinggi. Fine. Great. It was a twisty, climbing sort of ride - the kind not so conducive to sleep. I actually managed to get some shut-eye as we bumped along, though Chris spent a lot of it awake - sleepless in Sumatra, I guess you could say. The one time she fell asleep, we passed through the town - two hours before we had been told we would arrive there. The net result was that our supposed 14-hour ride turned into an actual 16-hour ride, as we got to the end and had to come back a bit. Bukittinggi made it worth it, though.

We stayed at another homestay here - they're really popular here, and it's a great way to get money directly into peoples' hands, rather than the more circuitous routes of general tourist dollars. In this wonderful little town, we checked out the very sad zoo in town (some zoos in Asia are animal hellholes. This was one of the worse ones), a dance performance that didn't happen (good luck finding ten tourists here at this time of year! At least we got the VCD), a museum of local cultural artifacts, money from around the world, and stuffed malformed goats (all in all, a rather odd museum) where we were mobbed by a class of kids that had more interest in us than in their project for school. We also got two visits to the large biweekly market, where my camera was a magnet for invitations to take pictures. Whereas in the larger cities, I often got shakes of the head and hands waving me away in response to my requests for a picture, here, calls of, "Meester! Foto! Foto!" followed us as we made our way past fish, plastic knick-knacks, and tapioca-plant treats (no, not like the pudding at all). Everyone was tickled pink when I would stop and take their picture, and some even asked for a copy of the picture, which I was pleased to comply with. People here don't often have pictures of themselves. Lastly, we took advantage of the experienced guide associated with our homestay. Every place in Bukittinggi has its own tours to areas around, but Erik was one of the old schoolers. He took us out one day to see our unachieved goal from Borneo - the Rafflesia, the largest-blooming flower in the world. After a two kilometre hike through rice fields and up part of a mountain along a wet jungle path, we encountered our goal. The rafflesia can grow up to a metre in diameter, and though this one was only 75 cm wide, it was still huge. It also smelled slightly of decaying flesh, its way of attracting flies for pollination. It was an amazing sight to behold, and I'm really glad we got to see it, as it can only grow in the jungle and only lives for about a week. Luck is the name of the game.

Erik also took us on one of our favourite experiences on the island - a three-day trek through the jungle to a volcano lake - Lake Maninjau, 30 kilometers away or so from Bukittinggi. Intense was the word of the day as we walked along uncommonly-used paths, wading through rivers, and attracting leeches by the hord. It was a fantastic experience, as Erik had been doing this for 16 years! He knew a lot of the people along the route, living in the villages, giving us fascinating information as we traveled - how much the people sold their harvests for (rice sold for about $0.50/kg, cinnamon sticks (well, bark, actually) for $0.40/kg, and chili peppers $1.20/kg), when and how the people work (one old 76-year-old woman was still working the field every day, her family off on other parts of the island), and so much more. As a photographer, this elated me - I love finding context, learning about others. We also saw so much growing - being right by the equator, these jungles house an amazing amount of life. Coconuts, tapioca plants, cloves, cinnamon trees, peanuts, cucumbers, bananas, papayas, pineapples, cocoa, coffee, turmeric, nutmeg, chilis, eggplants, and, of course, rice (so much rice) were seen every day that we hiked. One day, Erik pointed to a tree opposite a house and commented that the coffee we were sipping with our lunch was grown on that particular tree. We stayed one night at an old woman's house in a village, sampling a delicious home-made dinner made by her, and the other night in an isolated hostel on the mountainside, hundreds of metres above our final desination. The whole experience (including the leeches, which weren't so bad, you barely felt them. I'd take leeches over mosquitoes anytime, personally) was marvelously unique, an education in the way most of the world lives. Sobering, and yet, they were so happy.

And thusly, we arrived in Maninjau, our R&R time. And relax we did, not venturing much further than a few minutes away. After so much ocean, it was nice to rest by a little lake, reading, writing, taking a few pictures, playing cards, and doing other such lazy activities. The Merapi volcano on this island (it means fire mountain, they love that name here, so they had to use it twice) was also spitting out smoke, though much less than its counterpart, so it clouded up more and more each day, but we ignored it and enjoyed delicious, cheap food at the cafe (I had a giant mound of papaya, pineapple, bananas, and ground coconut with some yoghurt on the top for less than a dollar each morning!) and the quiet lake. Unfortunately, we had to leave this paradise and head back to sea level, taking a weaving bus through 43 back-to-back hairpin turns up the mountain, then cramming into a little van with too many other people to go down to Padang, the surfing capital of Sumatra. We only had a day and a half here, but we managed to meet with a friendly student Christine had met on the aforementioned extra-long bus ride. We also managed to take a cooking course at the hostel we were staying at, getting to try the local specialty, Beef Rendang (beef simmered in coconut cream - DIVINE) and getting a recipe for our favourite Indonesia dish, Gado Gado (vegetables with a complex peanuts sauce). She took us through the market where people once again saw my camera and invited me to take pictures of their neighbours. Scotty and Maria were extremely friendly and managed a wonderful place, making our short time in Padang a fun one. Oh, this was our closest stop to the equator (being within a degree), and it was hot. How hot? Well, keeping in mind it was mid-May, at 9:00 one evening, it was still 33°C, and didn't cool off much as it got later.

Our last few days of the trip were spent in Jakarta and the surrounding area. Jakarta was about as I remembered it - big, dirty, and full of big communist-style monuments from the Suharto and Sukarno eras. We did a couple of touristy things - visited the third-biggest mosque in the world, took in the national museum, tried some padang cuisine, and took in a shopping mall, trying to get some last minute cheap clothing. The national museum was pretty interesting, although they don't have any storage space, so everything's always on display. Padang cuisine is the ultimate fast food - you sit down, and they put a plate of rice in front of you and about 12 different dishes full of food. You can try the sauces for free, you take what you want, and only pay for what you eat! We also enjoyed our last glasses of avacado juice - a previous favourite of mine, and a new love for Chris. We also made it down to Bogor to see the world-class botanical gardens (I loved them so much last time, I had to make it back), including the orchid house, the tallest plant in the world (the titan arum, which wasn't blooming, unfortunately - it would've been great to go two for two!), cacti, bamboo, and so many other wonderful plants. A verdant paradise in the city. We also met up with a friend I had made last time I was here, Mul, and spent the afternoon chatting with him, getting a tour of the community he lived in, and talking with the family and friends that lived around him. Grandma next door was an interesting woman, telling us we were both good-looking and saying we made a good match, and always wanting us to sit down or have a drink or smile. Mul was a gentleman through and through, helping us catch the train (just barely!) back to Jakarta and really showing how wonderful Indonesians can be. What a wonderful country.

And that, essentially, was that. After three months less a day, this leg of the world exploration and domination (oops, cancel that, no domination) has come to a close. It's been wonderful - we've seen two oceans, innumerable plates of delicious food, three huge religions and their respective temples (and many smaller ones), great places to chill out, old friends, new friends, and a plethora of plants and animals. We've learned to cook new dishes, say thank you in a swath of languages, and how to really negotiate. I know I've learned a lot about myself and grown in many ways. I feel my photography has definitely benefitted from this journey (I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have), and I'm definitely going to pursue it further. The people we've met have really made the trip authentic - getting to see how local people go about their lives, taking in our differences and similarities, and trying to give something back when we can, whether it be teaching kids how to play gin in Cambodia, sending a picture back to a woman in a market in Bukittinggi, or pointing people towards a fabulous Muslim restaurant that's an old standby in Bangkok. It was a little hectic, but I can't think of one thing I would've cut. It's been an experience, that's for sure.

Don't forget to check out the pictures!

homesickness

One thing that hits almost everyone on the road is missing home. Of course, those with the travel bug always want to keep traveling, but everyone has their head turned homeways. Many plan their returns to coincide with special family events - Christmas is a big one, as are family gatherings.

It was doubly hard leaving Taiwan at the same time - we were essentially homeless, and were (or are) to be for a full six months, until we arrive in Argentina. The longest time we'll spend anyplace is here in Regina - a little over three weeks. It hit Chris harder than it did me. I've never had a problem venturing off, from camp in the fourth grade to the first big move across the country to Ottawa for my first work term to leaving the continent.

Personally, my security lies in communications. I enjoy keeping in touch with friends and family, and do. It makes a huge difference - I mean, it's not the same as sitting down and chatting with your best mate or playing a game of crib with your dad, but it really helps a lot.

What are your experiences with homesickness? Has it hit you at all? I'm just curious as to other peoples' reactions, not having had a strong reaction myself.

recycle-cycle

The thing about Taiwan is, it's an island. The necessity of recycling, then, is HUGE, quite like the situation in Japan. They've instituted forced recycling (i.e. you get fined if they find recyclables in your garbage) and have a very easy-to-use system, which basically consists of taking your recycling down to the garbagemen when they come around. Usually, there were a bunch of old ladies around who would go through your recycling and take your bottles. Some people even had bins, in a more North American-like situation, and you just brought your garbage down there and left it to be picked up at certain pick-up times. Not that bad of a system.

Any items that could possibly be reused was placed in a common area and left for the jackals. Similar to the mass moves in Montreal at the end of leases at the end of May, these were available to all, and were especially plentiful around Chinese New Year, when everyone was getting new furniture (the best time of the year to do so). Many people we knew, including ourselves, acquired some great things from these purges - a desk, beautiful Chinese vases, a 70-litre backpack, and my personal piece de resistance, a brand new suitcase.

Our last day, after everything was packed, sent off, cleaned up, and done, we were taking down the last of the garbage, and there, in the basement, was a brand new traveling case. No bodies, illicit powders, animals, or clothing was inside - someone must've just gotten a new one and not had room for this one. I, having a much older suitcase that was falling apart, immediately pounced upon it, fighting off a small army for its retention. Actually, I just grabbed it and swapped it for my old one. Such is the magic of Taiwanese recycling.

old

new

Nifty, eh?

my sets

I like taking close-ups of things. I guess that's why my first exhibition was titled Take a Closer Look. Little things catch my eye and I want to take a picture of them. Asia was wonderful for that, having a plethora of flowers and bugs, both in many different colours and shapes. I couldn't include them all in the travel pictures, or else you would've been looking at the traveling orchid and butterfly show, but now that I have time (ha ha, not really, but...), I've put up two galleries: one dedicated to flowers and plants of SE Asia, and one dedicated to bugs, frogs, and other creepy crawlies of SE Asia. A few old, but mostly new pictures for you. Enjoy.

takes getting used to

Coming back from a long time in Asia and a decent time traveling, some habits took a little longer to break, often with humourous results!

• Being a minority in Taiwan, you get to know the other non-majority members. You get to know the regulars, the long-termers, and your various acquaintances in town, to the point of glancing at other foreigners as they pull up to a light or come into a restaurant to see if you know them. For the first couple of days in Vancouver, I kept looking at people on the sidewalk, wondering if I knew them.

• See, in Asia, toilet paper is a rare gem indeed. Only the swankiest of bathrooms generally have it, so you get used to carrying toilet paper (well, tissue, at any rate. Sometimes even napkins - you take what you can get). It took a day or so of being back from traveling for me to stop carrying TP to the bathroom. The harder habit, however, was what to do with it after it was used. You see, Asian sewer systems are not generally designed to handle toilet paper. It is disposed of in a garbage can, to be taken out regularly (ideally!) as trash. I found it really hard to stop myself from throwing the toilet paper into the garbage can, and continued to do so for a few days after getting back. It still feels weird to do it, after having done the opposite for so long.

• I've been spoiled - it's cold here. We landed into seventeen degree weather, and all I could think about was that that was late February temperature in Kaohsiung. In Vancouver, I felt chilled in a Subway during lunch, and couldn't wait to get outside. I opened the doors and presented my chilled body to...an equal temperature. Disappointing, to say the least. It rained most of last week, and didn't pass twelve degrees. I'm getting used to it, though I can't wait until I hit an Ottawa or Michigan heat wave. It'll feel more like 'home'.

• The space here is mind-boggling. I had a good friend travel SE Asia right before I got there, and I remember her talking about the adjustment upon returning, and it's true. The first days, it was the existance of distance between houses and the spaciousness of stores and the hugenss of parking lots. Shortly after, the (comparatively) huge distances to get anywhere - it's been so long! Everything just seems so spread out to me, especially the new neighbourhoods in the places I've been. Also, as a side note, there is definitely less colour here - many of these houses seem to follow the tan-cream-light blue-grey-etc colour scheme. I miss vibrancy. My parents' place has always been a slightly-shocking yellow and chocolate brown, and I for one like it.

• Taiwan, being an island, needed recycling desperately, and it happened (see aforementioned entry on recycling). While our trash only had to be taken down once a week, the recycling was a twice- or thrice-a-week affair. Not that I minded, it felt better knowing it was being recycled, like seeing a larger item you put down gone - someone'll get some good use out of it. It helped that there were fines for having recyclables in your garbage. It's been a little hard throwing things out here that I know can be recycled, but aren't. Taiwan, in some ways (mostly, plastic bags and wrapping of all sorts), was a very throw-away society, but coming home, I've realized how much of a throw-away society we live in. Luckily, there are a lot of people who care enough and some programs to prevent this, but we generate a lot of garbage. And talking with my family that I was visiting today, it often happens in the name of profit - more money in buying new than supplementing and supporting old. If I were staying here longer, there's a lot of things I'd love to get going, like building a compost bin out by the community gardens for peoples' compostable garbage, rather than sending grass clippings out to the dump.

• Having been surrounded by Chinese, or at least not-English, for so long, multiple sources of English input at one time has been a surprising source of anguish. Trying to talk to someone while the radio or TV is on has proved quite difficult for both Chris and I. I often lose threads of conversation due to higher than normal lack of ability to concentrate. It's been a couple of weeks and it still persists. This may take a while to overcome, if we do before we head off again.

• Lastly, something that seems quite minor until you don't have it - tap water. I mean, we had taps, and the WHO said the water was safe to drink, but unless you wanted a tall glass of heavy metals, you stayed away from it, choosing instead to buy bottles from the 7-11, or, more economically, fill up your five-gallon tank every now and then, which was a pain. Tap water became a desired luxury. That simple ability to go to the tap, fill a glass of water, and drink it - a luxury that eludes the vast majority of the world's population. Plus, there's nothing more irritating than coming home, wanting a nice glass of water (especially after a night of beer and Scrabble), having no potable water in the household, and having to head down to the convenience store for a bottle (luckily, convenience stores there take a very strict interpretation of the word).

Funny thing is, if we get used to these things while being here, it's just going to change again for South America. Well, such is life.