So it's been more than a week, I thought I would at least manage the once a week plan for like a month. Oh well, life gets unexpected sometimes so I officially retract my commitment to regularity...wow that was a cool string of words. Now, let me just tell you, I think I have never had a day as unique as the one I will describe right now.
Funnily enough, I don't remember what happened in the morning, I'm betting it was only the bus ride because we did do a fair amount of bus riding on this tour. So TO BE CLEAR this is just a half day memoir, not even one whole day. So much can happen in so little time.
Lunch was served at my tour leader's own home in Cianjur, a gloriously adorable two story yellow house with a marble courtyard entrance and the most lovely family living in it :) His mom made at least eight dishes, including spicy chicken, soy bean cakes, corn fritters, and kangkung (water spinach) in a sweet sauce. To go with this were three giant vats of rice, which we unfortunately could not even make a dent in. The generosity and kindness of these people was so touching. After about fifteen group pictures we left for the afternoon's activities, deemed "a surprise" by our guide. Incredible.
Seeing our tour guide part with his family was particularly touching. As the bus scraped through tree branched lanes that weren't built for large tourism vehicles, I let that cozy family feeling linger. What a blessing this trip was proving to be. And it gets better...
BECAUSE...Have you ever had one of those fish nibbling exfoliations in a trendy spa with a long tranquil pool and white stone benches that you sit on to dangle your feet? Neither have I. Instead of pool, think dark lake where you can't see the fish approaching, then replace the benches with six bamboo shoots strung together and barely off the surface of the water, and you're closer to my experience. At one point the fish bit my ankle bone and it was all freaky, but aside from that moment I got used to the feeling. This all occurred in the middle of a floating village - yes, it is what it sounds like, a village that floats. On murky waters, with houses of such simplistic nature you can't even picture it unless you see a picture. We're talking hundreds of them. Connected by bamboo pathways that create grids in which the fish hang out.
In the middle of this alter universe there sits an island, not just any island, oh no. It's got a cocoa plantation! I was only mildly excited about this at the time, maybe because nothing tops a lovely fish exfoliation, but we got to pick a cacao pod and try the beans and SURPRISE OF ALL SURPRISES, the beans taste like bananas. There is this white fleshy coating and it's all slimy and gross but it tastes like bananas so it's all worth it. Having said that, I am probably not qualified to say anything on the topic since I barely nibbled the bean, still being paranoid about eating something exotic and falling ill. I was fine, of course. And so it was a neat discovery indeed. After our plantation island adventure we hopped on board a giant bamboo raft that was moved by men pulling it along a rope. It was on the verge of sinking the entire time but they said that was normal. All good. Once back at the mainland we walked through the same red dirt fields and crops that we'd traversed to get to the floating village, and I really couldn't get enough of that landscape.
Children surrounded us and held our hands and asked for pictures, as they had done when we passed through the first time. Hollywood's got nothing on these kids, if you want to be a celebrity you go to Indonesia. They were soooo adorable and it seemed they would just multiply and multiply. By the time we were back at our bus drop off point there were so many of them it was time for a game of soccer. Soccer in red dirt soon creates a red dust sandstorm, and you just go with it. Those kids were so skilled, I had only my height on my side and honestly that's not enough. It might help me get to the ball first but then they just steal it and look so cute that you just want to get to know them all and make sure they are ok and you feel like they are not ok but also recognize that this is the life they know. The dirt's not red to them, it's just dirt. I think I really noticed this during my time in Indonesia. We go as tourists to places that we wouldn't want to live, sometimes witnessing extreme poverty, observing it, calling that part of our vacation. It's a strange form of travel satisfaction, to get a glimpse of how the locals live even when they live in seemingly unhappy circumstances that you aren't there to do anything about, but then you still check off "local village" from the sightseeing list. It's just strange to me, haven't fully formed my thoughts on it yet. In this particular area I am not sure if they were impoverished, the children seemed healthy enough. Again, not qualified to comment, really.
Those feelings aside, I was truly heartwarmed to see how happy the children were, in their element playing soccer, and interacting with us afterward. When I waved goodbye to them from the bus, they mimicked my every gesture, so I started to blow kisses and they sent the love back. It was a moment of nonverbal beauty, and the chorus of tiny voices yelling 'BYE! BYE! BYE!' resounded long after those little darlings were out of sight.
As the sun set, we travelled to our household where we would stay for the evening. It was a little disconcerting getting there at first. At a rest stop on the way we had been crossing the street when a car bumped into me (I won't say hit, that's too much) and threw me for a loop a bit. I fell into my tour guide and it was pretty disorienting but I bought myself an ice cream, grabbed a few hugs, and determined to regain the nice feeling I'd experienced all day. Once dinner was served it reminded me once again of the warmth that would greet us everywhere we went in this beautiful country. The hot little room with the mattress and fan was actually the greatest little hibernation station, turns out, and I slept like a baby.
I would do that day all over again. But it wouldn't be the same. How lucky am I? I hope that my theory is right, that they are happy over there on the other side of the world in their very different lives, playing in dirt that has always been there.
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Saturday, 20 December 2014
Thursday, 4 December 2014
The Other Side of The World: A Prologue
I have been travelling for 6 weeks.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, a reflection on my travels. Because I did not do a travel blog, which would have been lovely, but impossible for me since I took only crappy electronics and promptly lost one of them in a pool, this will be a brief but potent recollection.
I love the word potent.
So, ok, where to start. How about day one. I travelled for over twenty four hours to get to Jakarta, Indonesia. The connection at Taipei International was a little bit alarming because everyone was wearing masks. You hear lots of stories about disease and it had occurred to me more than once that I might be exposed to strange things going to an entirely different part of the world, but nothing quite brings it home like people in masks. Why is that? Is it because there is no chance you will see them smile? I love it when strangers smile at me. I try to smile at random people all the time, and it mostly works out. Whatever the case, I just wanted to get on my plane. Then when I did, my seatmate was super friendly and offered me some sushi. How great is that? I politely declined, of course. But she was so sweet, and I got my stranger smile.
Now I had six more hours to contemplate my action plan for travelling alone in Asia. The most prominent thought I had was "I can't drink the tap water". Anticipating the need for bottled water everywhere just totally stressed me out. I know, I know, it's a totally first world problem, because I can afford bottled water in Indonesia (we can all essentially afford everything in Indonesia) and my reliance on clean tap water is second nature so much so that actively thinking about what I drink is a burden. Actually as I write this I almost wish I didn't have to admit that, you know what I mean? But there it is - when I got to the hotel, they had two bottles of water waiting for me, and I quite literally cried. With tears. "Now I don't have to go buy water tonight and I can just hide in this well furnished but unfamiliar room until I meet 15 strangers who might end up not being fun at all and stick it out for six weeks until I go home assuming I don't catch some horrible disease or get stung by box jellyfish in Australia" was my subconscious thought.
It got better quite quickly, as it usually does when you are a privileged and adventurous young person taking the advice of so many people who have said that travelling will "change your life" and "be the best decision you ever made". The next morning, after a wonderful night's sleep, I woke up with no jet lag, trotted off to breakfast, and met a girl who was on my tour - huzzah! And so began a very interesting and enriching six weeks.
The set-up:
Two weeks in Indonesia on a G-adventures tour, 16 people.
One week after Indonesia tour to go where the winds would take me, as long as they landed me in Cairns, Australia.
Two weeks on a Contiki tour of Australia's east coast, 50 people (yes, correct).
One week staying with my awesome Sydneyian friend (spectacular new word, well done me).
You know what, more to come. Why did I think I could write this in one post. You can't summarize something you want to savor. I am going to try and write weekly posts now, I think that would be excellent, and it would help me practice being in a routine, something I am neither fond of nor good at. That was too dramatic, amendment: something I get a bit restless with sooner than others would, or at least that's what I suspect. It's the reason I travel. And the reason I live. Change is scary, but it can turn out so good that I think it's worth going off the beaten path to find that refreshment. You can always come home in six weeks.
So UNTIL NEXT WEEK, I leave you to try something new, seek out a change, and enjoy your tap water wholeheartedly. :)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, a reflection on my travels. Because I did not do a travel blog, which would have been lovely, but impossible for me since I took only crappy electronics and promptly lost one of them in a pool, this will be a brief but potent recollection.
I love the word potent.
So, ok, where to start. How about day one. I travelled for over twenty four hours to get to Jakarta, Indonesia. The connection at Taipei International was a little bit alarming because everyone was wearing masks. You hear lots of stories about disease and it had occurred to me more than once that I might be exposed to strange things going to an entirely different part of the world, but nothing quite brings it home like people in masks. Why is that? Is it because there is no chance you will see them smile? I love it when strangers smile at me. I try to smile at random people all the time, and it mostly works out. Whatever the case, I just wanted to get on my plane. Then when I did, my seatmate was super friendly and offered me some sushi. How great is that? I politely declined, of course. But she was so sweet, and I got my stranger smile.
Now I had six more hours to contemplate my action plan for travelling alone in Asia. The most prominent thought I had was "I can't drink the tap water". Anticipating the need for bottled water everywhere just totally stressed me out. I know, I know, it's a totally first world problem, because I can afford bottled water in Indonesia (we can all essentially afford everything in Indonesia) and my reliance on clean tap water is second nature so much so that actively thinking about what I drink is a burden. Actually as I write this I almost wish I didn't have to admit that, you know what I mean? But there it is - when I got to the hotel, they had two bottles of water waiting for me, and I quite literally cried. With tears. "Now I don't have to go buy water tonight and I can just hide in this well furnished but unfamiliar room until I meet 15 strangers who might end up not being fun at all and stick it out for six weeks until I go home assuming I don't catch some horrible disease or get stung by box jellyfish in Australia" was my subconscious thought.
It got better quite quickly, as it usually does when you are a privileged and adventurous young person taking the advice of so many people who have said that travelling will "change your life" and "be the best decision you ever made". The next morning, after a wonderful night's sleep, I woke up with no jet lag, trotted off to breakfast, and met a girl who was on my tour - huzzah! And so began a very interesting and enriching six weeks.
The set-up:
Two weeks in Indonesia on a G-adventures tour, 16 people.
One week after Indonesia tour to go where the winds would take me, as long as they landed me in Cairns, Australia.
Two weeks on a Contiki tour of Australia's east coast, 50 people (yes, correct).
One week staying with my awesome Sydneyian friend (spectacular new word, well done me).
You know what, more to come. Why did I think I could write this in one post. You can't summarize something you want to savor. I am going to try and write weekly posts now, I think that would be excellent, and it would help me practice being in a routine, something I am neither fond of nor good at. That was too dramatic, amendment: something I get a bit restless with sooner than others would, or at least that's what I suspect. It's the reason I travel. And the reason I live. Change is scary, but it can turn out so good that I think it's worth going off the beaten path to find that refreshment. You can always come home in six weeks.
So UNTIL NEXT WEEK, I leave you to try something new, seek out a change, and enjoy your tap water wholeheartedly. :)
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