The end of Southeast Asia

In a couple of days we will be in Nepal, eating yak steaks while climbing Mt. Everest with Yetis. Or Sherpas? I always get them mixed up. Interesting side note: while reading up on Nepal, I found out that yaks are notoriously aggressive and unpredictable, so always position yourself on the upper slope of the mountain when letting a yak pass, or it might push you off the edge. Apparently this is a common enough occurrence that it needed mentioning on wikitravel. Fucking yaks. If you can't trust a yak, then who can you trust, really?

So now that we're leaving Southeast Asia soon, it's time for another cultural comparison post! Huzzah!

Things Southeast Asia Has That I Wish North America Had


1. Noodle soup. Because holy fucking hell, Asians have perfected the noodle soup. Gloriously spiced and exquisitely umami (did I really just write that?), it is the ultimate food. I've become completely obsessed -- dependent, even -- and now we're leaving, and I just don't think yak soup will be the same.

2. Food stalls. In SE Asia, when given the choice, you should always go for the dingy alleyway stall surrounded by plastic chairs over a restaurant with walls. Why bother with things like waiters and silverware when a little Thai grandma can cook you a way better meal in 2 minutes right on the street for $1? And, to think, in Vancouver we're only allowed to have hot dog stalls and no other food stalls?! What about all the grandmas whose only wish is to feed everyone really delicious food? Think of how much better Vancouver would be, in pretty much every way, if we let them. That's my dream.

3. Traffic. The North American in me used to scream "That's awfully dangerous!" every time a pickup truck squeezed full of 30 people would dart into oncoming traffic to pass a scooter holding a family of five. Now the only thing that still bothers me is when we see a 10-year-old girl driving her little 5-year-old sister on a motorbike. Holy shit, there's nothing scarier than seeing that. As for everything else -- and I never thought I would hear myself say this -- I think I'm actually going to miss it a little. Especially...

4. Scooters. Renting a scooter for $4 and bazzing around the Indonesian countryside was one of my favorite experiences this year, even if we did fall off once. A++, would fall again!

5. Practical mindset. I really love the Asian mindset of "If it makes sense, I'm going to do it, even if it looks silly." For example, why don't more people wear face masks when they're sick to help stop the spread of germs? Are we really so self-centered that we'd rather get other people sick than to look a bit stupid for a few days? (Answer: yes.) Or, another example: we saw groups of grown men doing extreeeeeme hackey sack in the park in Bangkok. They're probably like, "Goddamnit, we're going to hackey sack like no one ever hackey sacked before!! YEEEEAAH!" And then they DO. But in North America, we're far too self-conscious to consider doing something like that, and as a result it has never entered my mind to go to the park and repeatedly kick a hackey sack 40 feet into the air for several hours. Not even once! Is that really any way to live?

6. Offerings and incense. This one is mostly for Bali. As a non-religious person, I didn't really see the point at the time, but I have to admit that smelling flowers and incense every day while we walked down the street was like a party in my nose. I've never smelled a nicer island. Religion 1, Marina 0.

7. Really, really ridiculously friendly people. Fuckin' over-achievers, making the rest of us look bad.

Things North America Has That I Wish Southeast Asia Had

1. Dairy products. Dairy isn't featured much in Asian cuisine. I miss the days when Ross and I would go to SaveOn Foods, buy 3 different kinds of cheeses, and have a magnificent feast consisting of cheese, crackers, and apple slices. That's probably why we've both lost weight since coming here.

2. Looser standards of dress. Asians dress quite modestly, and I've been trying to respect that by covering up the ol' extremities while we've been here. This hasn't been a huge deal since I don't dress very revealingly anyway (tutoring teenage boys for a living has thoroughly rid me of that notion), but it would've been nice to be able to wear shorts and a tank top when trying to sight-see in 96 degree heat without offending everyone and/or shocking them with my hilariously white legs.

3. Fast internet. I think we can all agree that having to wait an entire hour for How I Met Your Mother to finish downloading is hellish. How will I ever find out how he met their mother in these conditions?!

4. No hawkers. Today, just in the time it took me to cross the street, I had four people ask if I wanted a tuk-tuk ride. In Thailand, it would've been 4 people asking "You want massage?" In Indonesia, "You buy sarong?" I feel that I would've saved years of my life by just printing a shirt that says, "NO, I don't want sunglasses, fruit, socks, a sarong, a massage, a tuk-tuk ride, a manicure, or 10 bracelets for 1 dollar." (And for Ross, please add "or marijuana, or coke, or bitches." How come no one offers me coke or bitches?)

5. A relatively corruption-free political system. Corruption seems to be the norm pretty much everywhere (except NZ, because they're too boring for that sort of thing there). I feel grateful that no matter how corrupt we think our politicians are, we've actually got it pretty good. (Vice presidents who once shot a 76-year-old man in the face obviously excluded.)

6. Western toilets. I really don't understand the preference for squat toilets. Perhaps it's just the fact that I don't possess the leg muscles necessary to use them correctly, but I invariably end up getting pee all over my feet, and judging by the amount of urine all over the floor, so does everyone else. Bet you didn't think you'd be reading about me peeing on myself today.

7. 24 hour convenience stores. Because, as a North American, I demand convenience 24 hours a day, goddamnit.

I'm going to really miss this crazy place, but I'm also excited to be moving on to somewhere where I might possibly go a day or two without being embarrassed over how much sweat is pouring down my face. Soon: Kathmandu!

George and Stan

We have been to so many different places in the last 2 weeks that I don't really know where to start - Padang Bai and Pura Besakih in Bali, Gili T island, Senggigi and Kuta in Lombok, and now Mataram. Where to begin? Please forgive my cop-out just this once, but perhaps I will just describe my favorite snippet from each place.

Padang Bai: A tiny village on the east coast of Bali. We rented a scooter to visit the night market in a nearby village to buy Ross some shorts. There was nowhere to try anything on, so when we picked out a pair, the lady did this trick where she held them around Ross's neck to determine whether or not they'd fit. She proclaimed that they fit his neck like a glove (or did a gesture to that effect, since she didn't speak English), and we figured, that's probably legit, right? And now we have a pair of slightly-too-small shorts. Hah. Damn sneaky old ladies.



Pura Besakih: The most important temple in Bali. We decided to rent a scooter again to go see this temple, except this time we decided to take "smaller roads" to get there. What the map didn't mention is that the "smaller" road eventually became just a muddy, gravelly, pothole-ridden footpath up a very steep hill; not actually a road at all. We stubbornly persisted for about half an hour because we figured that several people told us this was the right way to go, so it must get better. It was only when we hit a giant pothole and toppled off the scooter that we decided to stop being dumb, and spent another half hour backtracking to the main road. Because of this, we got to the temple extremely late, and we were heading back right around the time that the afternoon monsoon was starting. Trying to scooter during a monsoon is the most terrifying fucking thing ever. Kids, don't try this at home. You are not as hardcore as the kids in Indonesia.



(A brief aside: I just want to reiterate that people here are really, really, ridiculously hardcore. As just one example, in Ubud I witnessed 3 old ladies doing construction work in flip flops, in 90 degree heat. They would each spend about 10 minutes putting bricks into baskets until the baskets were full. Then the three of them would help each other lift the baskets on to each other's heads. Then they'd all walk off with the baskets of bricks on their heads, come back with empty baskets, and repeat. And one of the women doing this only had one arm!!!!)

(In flip-flops!!!!!)

Gili Trawangan Island: A tiny island next to Bali that is well-known for snorkeling, diving, and partying. I know I am in a very small minority here since most people can't stop raving about it, but I have nothing positive to say about this island. I found it to be a gawdy tourist trap with terrible food, abundant mosquitoes, and frequent power outages. We were woken up at 5am and then again at 8am by the people praying in the mosque over a loudspeaker. I absolutely do not get what everyone sees in this place. As we were leaving, we met a group of people who had just spent over a week there and loved it, so clearly Ross and I just missed the point or something.

Senggigi: A small beach town on the island of Lombok. I really enjoyed lying by the pool for 4 days reading a random book by Maeve Binchy that I found in the book exchange in our hotel. Yay for hotels having a book exchange for tourists who still haven't gotten their shit together enough to replace the broken Kindle! (But who totally will soon!) And more importantly, hooray for pools.



Kuta, Lombok: Another, even smaller beach town in Lombok. We decided to go try some crab after Lonely Planet raved about this one particular restaurant that serves amazing crab. The waiter came out holding 2 live crabs in tongs and asked us to pick which one we wanted. I don't know about you, but wow, that is the fastest possible way to make me NOT want to eat crab. My brain instantly named both crabs (George and Stan) and I instantly began to regret my impulse to come eat crab. And then the crab itself was so very hard to eat, so messy, so SPIKEY, and for so little reward, that I feel like I was the butt of a Lonely Planet prank or something. Why would you go out of your way to recommend that people eat crab? That's just not something I would do to anyone. Perhaps the author of that entry was a life-long crab person. I don't understand crab people. Meaning people who like crab, not some sort of freakish human-crab hybrid species. That would actually be pretty cool.



Which brings me to where we are now. I am writing from Mataram, the capital of the island of Lombok. It's the first big(ish) city we've been in since getting to Indonesia, and it feels fucking wonderful. I can't remember the last time I was so happy to see a mall! (The last shopping we did was at the night market of trickery.) I even managed to find flip-flops that aren't made of rubber. Success!

Mataram is also the first place we've seen here that isn't on the tourist trail. It's known primarily as a transportation hub because it has an airport. Indeed, we're only here because we decided to fly out from here to the next island rather than making a 27-hour journey involving 3 buses and 2 ferries over rough seas. (I have a whole new appreciation for rough seas after our last experience here on a boat - I was literally planning out who would get my computer and whatnot if we didn't make it out alive. I decided my cat would probably enjoy inheriting the computer the most. She always liked to sleep on the keyboard while I was typing.)

I've found myself enjoying Mataram quite a bit. It's genuine. It's not a veneer put up just to please tourists. For the first time since coming to Indonesia, we were served lunch that we weren't quite sure how to eat. It was one of those "Is that a soup, or is that a bowl of water in which to rinse my fingers?" sort of situations. (Answer: neither, it was a broth that you pour into your food to dilute the spiciness.) And because it's a bit less traveled, most people here look at us as just a couple of strange gringos, not as walking ATMs. I don't even know how to convey how refreshing that is.

It's also starting to feel quite a bit more foreign now. For one thing, Lombok is the first place I've been to that's predominantly Muslim, which I'm finding very interesting. We're starting to see women in headscarves and men in taqiyahs (and even the mannequins at the mall were wearing headscarves). We've also noticed that the body language is all different here. Instead of shaking their head to say "no," people here twist their hand from side to side. Maybe that's what we should've been doing to get rid of the hawkers all this time!?

We're flying to an island called Flores today. It's supposed to be quite stunning. And after that... giant deadly lizards, here we come!

Motorbikes and Religion

We are now in Padang Bai, a tiny village on the east coast of Bali. We're exploring the east coast a bit from here, and then heading out to some of the smaller islands to the east of Bali, including Komodo island!

Yesterday we rented a scooter to go to Tirta Gangga, a water palace built by a Balinese rajah in 1948. Although Ross had driven a scooter in college, we decided that I should be the one to drive, at least initially, because Ross doesn't have a license. I was slightly nervous at the idea of doing this because not only is the traffic completely insane here, but it also comes from the left. I've also never driven a scooter before, and I don't have an international license. Other than that, we were all set. 

We rented the scooter from the ladies at our hotel. They took us out and showed us where the turn signal and headlights were, how to open the gas tank, and how to turn on the scooter, and that was it. Then I freaked out all of us by asking, "So, uh, how do I go faster and slower?" They got a slightly panicked look on their faces when they realized it was my first time driving a scooter, their BRAND NEW SCOOTER no less, but for some reason they let us take it anyway. They sat and watched us as we got on the scooter and I tried to gather the nerve to start it. Then we set off, wobbling down the street and screaming. The ladies looked on in complete terror.

However, after a couple minutes I had things figured out and we were basically okay after that. Driving on the left is not as hard as it seems! From now on maybe I will stop calling it the "wrong direction." The only hard part was resisting the urge to scream "Oh my god!" every time a car coming from the opposite direction would veer manically into oncoming traffic (i.e., MY LANE) in order to pass a car or a scooter. But even that wasn't as bad as when we passed by a school that had just gotten out for the day, and we were swarmed by children driving scooters home. There is nothing more terrifying than a child in a school uniform and pigtails driving a motorbike, with a smaller child on the backseat. I stopped worrying about not having an international license right around then. Clearly there aren't really "rules" as such down here.

The ride to Tirta Gangga was gorgeous. When we finally got there, as I was trying to pull over into the parking lot, I tried to signal that I was turning left, and suddenly heard a "BEEP!" behind me. I had a mild panic attack, thinking I had cut someone off, but it turned out I had just mixed up the horn and the turn signal and scared the crap out of myself. Ross nearly bust a gut laughing at me. Then I almost fell off the goddamn bike while trying to park it, and a little old lady selling fruit nearly bust a gut laughing at me. Good times. After that I asked Ross if he wanted to drive us home. It turns out that he was way better at it than I was!... Which was probably not that hard to do.

Tirta Gangga was beautiful:

With strange carvings:

Since talking to people here a bit more, I've learned a lot more about Balinese religion. The "shrines" that I mentioned earlier are actually offerings to their gods to ward off black magic. They put out offerings at least twice a day, usually containing flowers, food, and incense. Once in the morning, to ask for a good day at work, and once in the evening, to thank the gods for having a good day and to ask for protection throughout the evening. I think it's lovely that they do this every day, even if it wasn't necessarily a good day at work. Just having work means it was a good day. Although it's ironic, really, since one man told us that one of the reasons people here are so poor is because they have to spend so much money on these offerings.

They put them everywhere - on doorsteps, countertops, sidewalks, even on the hood of our scooter (which I appreciated). They also put one outside the door of our room every morning on our behalf. It's really interesting - I've always read about people making offerings to gods in textbooks and whatnot, but I think this is the first time I've witnessed it firsthand.

When we got back, I found out that there was going to be a Barong ceremony right by our hotel that night. This ceremony is performed every 15 days to ward off evil spirits and protect from black magic. I was pretty excited, because how often do you get to see evil spirits being warded off? When I got there, I found hundreds of people dressed up, sitting on the ground in prayer. There was a muezzin praying loudly, drums, bells, and lots of anticipation. A table full of hundreds of offerings stood in front of all the people. I stood and waited for the warding to begin.

Then shit got real, yo (as I'm sure they would attest). Several men dressed in all white came out and began to give people blessings. Each one carried a bowl full of some sort of holy liquid and a brush. He went from person to person, dipping the brush in the bowl and flicking some of the liquid onto each person's head. He would do this three times. Then he would flick some water into their hands, and they would drink it. They also did this several times. After a person finished receiving their blessing, they would stand up and accept some rice, which they would put on their foreheads.

Unfortunately that's as much as I saw. After that, I was handed a flyer which explained that if tourists wanted to stay to see the rest, they had to be dressed properly and be sitting on the ground for the performance. "Dressed properly" was described as:

-Wearing a sarong to cover the lower part of the body

-Wearing a belt to express the firm intention to separate the lower and upper parts of the body

-Wearing the undong (turban) for men and flowers in their hair for women to show the value of the head which represents the spirit

Damnit. I didn't have a sarong, belt, or any flowers, nor did I feel like sitting on the ground, so I just came home. But I'm happy that I got to see the beginning of the ceremony, at least, and now I know what each part of their outfit represents, so that's pretty cool. And maybe no evil spirits will fuck with me for a while.

And can I just mention one more time before I wear out the welcome of this post: the food here is SO consistently and mind-blowingly good that I never want to leave. Asians have perfected the art of cooking. I can't wait to just eat and eat and eat in the next few months. There, now I'll stop mentioning it in every single post.

More pics here.