IndoIan

Hi Geo 4 Kids!

2010-02-13T03:40:00.001+07:00

To get to the extreme toponym challenge, please click here.

Hi Geo 9 Kids

2010-02-13T01:39:00.002+07:00

Period 1.

For our globalization of sport assignment, please click on the following link.

Period 2

For our globalization of sport assignment, please click on the following link.

Jakarta to Brookfield Update #2

2009-11-28T22:50:00.026+07:00

Trying to catch up to the present. Post #2 of three years in three posts.

Ada Rose styling the winter fashion scene in January of 09. This will most likely be one of those photos that keep showing up over the years in good natured attempts to embarrass her - like senior yearbook type of things.

We enrolled Ada into a free form kids jazz ensemble. Here she is soloing during an improv session at a downtown recording studio.

Tuning the tubes - Ada prepping for another session.

Three generations of beautiful girls on a beautiful winter day in Chicago.

Ada's first haircut. She liked it.

Ada in the power chair. It is a throne that plays royal type music when you sit in it. Who ever sits in it gets to tell everyone in the house what to do. Ada managed to slip in during one of the few moments I am not in occupance.

Girls with their much loved cabbage head babies.

My two valentines.

Emmerson managed to hold it together for pretty much the entirety of her fourth year birthday party.

Ross demonstrating proper crawdad crawl technique.

Emmerson and Ada ready in Chicago.

Valentines Day breakfast for my lady. I made a valiant attempt at recreating the Macgriddle sandwhich. I injected the waffle with maple syrup and then baked the sandwhich for a few minutes after cooking the components separately. It was tasty - but no Macgriddle. I am confident that what makes the Macgriddle uncopiable is its essence - literally. Much of the flavor in Macdonald's foods (and many other processed foods) comes from the smell of the product which is typically chemically created in some secret underground laboratory at Macdonald's University.

Ada in the power chair with Ducky. At some point in her life Ada decided Ducky was extra special and they have become very close. As is the case with many things that become close to children, they get dirty. So Alicia bought an imposter Ducky (pretty much exact replica) that we could use when real Ducky was getting clean. One day the rouse was almost blown when Ada put Ducky down in her crib for a quick nap, walked down stairs and came face to face with imposter Ducky sitting on the couch. She eyed imposter Ducky for a moment then just yelled "Ducky" ran over and picked her up. She must have figured that Ducky is indeed wonderful and can magically appear wherever she wants (I don't know Ducky's gender). Unfortunately, Ada has caught on and can now tell imposter Ducky from real Ducky. So now and then we tell Ada that Ducky wants to take a bath and off to the washing machine she goes. At the moment, this is acceptable to Ada.

Spring break in Mexico. I am not sure why Barney was wherever we were at this moment.

These make a bit more sense, I guess ....

Holiday pool.

Keeping myself pasty white in Puerto Vallarta.

Showing some skills. Spring break shuffle boarding.

Emmerson and her Puerto Vallarta ensemble. She wears this on a regular basis - good buy.

Fun at Oak Ave. Not sure what is going on here. Another one of those pictures that will follow Ada through her life.

Jakarta to Brookfield Update #1

2009-08-07T05:21:00.034+07:00

Three years in three posts. That is the goal. I have been back in the States now for three years and have been a tad bit delinquent in the posting.

Oak Avenue residence in December 07 snow.

Backyard - deck, garage and alley beyond the fence.

Christmas Eve 2007.

Christmas morning 2007.

52 ounces of goodness - all that is good and bad in America demonstrated by the existence of the Road Pilot enormo mug.

Ada traveling in style. Wish I could be transported all winter long like this. Christmas holiday in Colorado.

Emmerson in the Rockies.

Snow shoeing in Rocky Mt. National Forest.

How we spent the rest of the winter ....

Summer returns!

Girls in the hammock at Oak Ave.

Hoovers visit sometime in the last three years. I think it was our second summer here (8/08). Good times. The entire Hoover family piled into Ada's bedroom for four days. The Hoovers are now at ISM in the Philippines.

Emmerson and Kiana on the train to downtown Chicago.

Emmerson and I back to where it all began for the Duell family. The castle where we hosted one of the sweatiest wedding ceremonies on record. Here we were visiting a Rennaissance Fair centered around the Stronghold Castle where the Duell's were married 6 years ago. I am still adjusting to the unique atmosphere's created by these live action role playing events.

Fall of 2008. Good times in the flatlands.

Ada in farmer school. Learning how to handle a John Deere at some farm near where we live.

Ada eating lunch at farm school.

The infamous "Donkey Maze". Me wishing Emmerson good luck on one of her most difficult exams at farm school - completing the six square mile corn maze within one 24 hour day. Fortunately there was a full moon.

Emmerson with her classmates knee-deep in the corn kernel room.

After successfully completing all the requirements at farm school, Emmerson was allowed to begin preschool. Absolutely busting with excitement, posing with her empty backpack before venturing off to day one of at least 14 more years of school.

Getting ready to go to the field Museum. Ada is wearing the matching batik jumpsuit we bought in Jakarta for Emmerson.

Excited at the Field Museum. September 2008.

At the Morton Arboretum. They created all sorts of critters out of sticks. The Morton Arboretum was once the estate of Joy Morton, the founder of Morton Salt. He was an avid naturalist (founded Arbor Day) and dedicated his 735 acre estate to trees and other things wild.

A moment of inspiration captured. The designing of yet another pumpkin masterpiece.

Little piece of Americana.

Ada's baptism.

It took her a while but finally Ada figured that walking did have its benefits and decided it was worth the effort to figure it all out. Some of her first hundred steps at Union Station in Chicago.

Once she got her walking skills down we figured it was time she earned her keep.

Another little piece of Americana. Our first snowman at the Oak Avenue residence.

Emmerson earning her keep. Christmas snow 2008.

Emmerson sporting her new Man U kit.

Christmas jams.

Oh my. Eclectic Emmerson.

Hi Geo 4 Kids!

2009-05-08T02:10:00.004+07:00

Here is the link to the needed information. Just click on the image below.

Stuff on a stick is always good eatin! Ko Phi Phi, Thailand.

To figure out the "Annual Food Expenditure" column on your chart - multiply the per capita GNP or GDP of the country (you can find that info on a variety of websites like the CIA) by the "Total Food Expenditure" number found on the USDA site.

Also, where it says "You" on the chart - you should put in the information for the US, then in the questions below, compare it with the data you have for yourself.

Chicago to Colorado

2008-09-02T11:06:00.004+07:00

First Road Trip: Chicago to Denver

2008-09-02T10:22:00.003+07:00

Jakarta to Chicago: First Summer

2008-09-02T10:20:00.001+07:00

Summer fun.

Jakarta: The Other Side

2008-05-29T01:35:00.004+07:00

I am fast approaching the anniversary of my first year here on the other side. My previous posts have all been related to life abroad and travel and I obviously am not doing any of the one and not too much of the other. So, the focus of the posts will simply change to ... whatever, randomness, no focus, nothing, Sienfeldesquish.

I came across some musings I had jotted down about some of my first home upkeep/"improvement" attempts a while a back. Perhaps some of you can relate - but probably not as these are quite ridiculous.....

.........Another episode – talked to the realtor the other day about some issues. At the end of the conversation he casually mentions that the previous owners kid is missing, into drugs and has keys to the house. Home Depot has a lot of door handle sets. After a few hours of raucously fun door knob/lock installation – I had all new door hardware......

......put together my new lawnmower yesterday to mow my two foot high grass. it has rained everyday for a week so no grass cutting possible. while dumping the oil into the engine i thought to myself - this mower sure takes a lot of oil - then it hit me that was the gas tank .....

...... the other day i was drilling holes in my wall to hang a knife board in the kitchen. i fired up the drill and went at the wall. the drill bit was hardly making any forward progress and smoking like crazy. so i pushed it harder and finally it burned its way through. half way through hole number two i realized i had the drill going in reverse rather than forward.......

.......successfully hung my first door a while ago. I stepped back to admire my handiwork and realized by looking at the design patterns that it was upside down - and will remain so....

Jakarta Halloween

2007-11-17T10:53:00.002+07:00

We never got to fully experience the spectacle that is Halloween in Jakarta so this year, our first Halloween as a family in the States, we pulled out all the stops.

It started with several pumpkins being bought a few weeks before Halloween to decorate our porch and get the festive atmosphere set. It was nice except for he fact that the same squirrel tandem that has reeked havoc o by yard digging for grubs also laid waste to the pumpkins. I like animals in general but I do not like these squirrels. They are precocious and quite "cheeky" nonchalantly ignoring my verbal tirades, which forces me to get physical. Typically I end up throwing something at them which usually suffices in sending them scampering a few feet away where they, bristle and run to the backyard to dig p more grubs.

The official Halloween festivities began when we carved several pumpkins. We thought that Emmerson would be really into it but she thought it was gross and avoided the entire ritual. So Alicia carved one and I ended up carving the first pumpkin in my life and then another. I was quit proud of my tow pumpkins and kept them inside until the actual Halloween day to avid the squirrels form getting at them.

The Brookfield chamber of commerce organized "Monster o Mainstreat" where local business open their doors to trick or teeters offering Emmerson a test run of the real thing. It was funny to see Emmrson bellied up to he bar of the local tavern in her bumble bee suit loading up her pumpkin shaped satchel.

She did well in the test run and I was excited to take her out Halloween evening for the real thing. I came home from work and expected her to be waiting expectantly at the door in her bumblebee outfit ready to go - but such was not the case. She did not want to go. Eventually, I convinced her to fire up and get her suit on so we could go and get some loot.

Once we hit the firs house and she realized what this was all about - getting candy, she was full on into it. At the second house we hit the lady ladling out the goods cooed about Emmerson get up but the said "oh she must be so cold without any socks on". It was indeed a chilly night and in the rush to get going I forgot to pt socks on her. I offer Emmrson my socks but she was in the zone and flitted off to the next potential source of treats.

It took her a few run through before she got the "Trick or Treat" chant in order - at first she would ring the door bell and then say "Trick or Treat" before anyone came to he door - but eventually she go the hang of it. We loaded up, so much so that I had to carry her candy laden pumpkin bin and it was a good time overall.

Chicago Summer

2007-09-21T08:47:00.001+07:00

Getting big, little girl in front of Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park, Chicago.

Whoa Ada!!

Street fest dancing.

A few excerpts from some emails I recently sent. Presently too busy trying to figure out what is creating all the huge holes in my lawn to properly tend to this post. It looks like a discourteous golfer took chipping practice in my backyard.

Listen to my last 24 hours. Interrupted five minutes before school got out yesterday afternoon by an announcement - "tornado warning - this is not a drill". so we get the kids (3000) of them out into the hallways and wait fro the storm to blow over - and blow it did. trees down everywhere, power lines, etc

an hour later we are released from the building. i walk to the train line and their are branches down all up and down the tracks. after about a 3 hr train commute - i get home to a house with no electricity. so i sat around in the dark waiting for the elctricity to come back on so I could watch my newly installed cable. no dice. woke up this morning at 5:40 - 20 minutes late - because still no electricty and manual clock not obnoxious enough. no hot water in the shower due to electric hotwater heater.

walk to the train station only to see my train pull up when I was about 200 yards away - no way I could make it. turned around and walked home - and on the way realized that my car was in the garage - which has an electric garage door opener. by this time i had worked up a healthy sweat due to my brisk walks. fortunately my garage is goofy and has two big doors - but one opens up onto the lawn and is not electric - so i opened it and white trash like drove across my lawn to get to the street.

halfway into the hour drive i get a call on my hp from my father in law telling me that they called his house (where i stayed this summer) to tell me that my school is closed. so here i sit in my empty school thinking about how nice it was to hear the generator click in while i was watching tv at night during a power outage...

from the other side ...

Ian
thursday we had the stomr i told you about the other day. power out all over chicago. friday morning power still out but we had set manual alarm clock - for FIVE TWENTY - the time I now have to get up. the alarm did not work as well and I got up at 5:40. i was about 200 yrds from the train when i saw it pull up to the station - all i could do was get really sad and watch it pull away. turned around and headed back to the house to drive. my run to the train had got my sweat going - so i was prety well sturated - nothing quite like being saoked with sweat in your work clothes that you are going to be wearing for the next 10 hours. as i approached my house i realized i had quite a serious dilema ahead of me. my garage door is electric and the power was out. i could not turn on the lights in the garage to see how to do it manually so i was screwed. but fortunately our garage also has a big door facing the lawn which is manual. so i opened it up and drove across our lawn to get to the street. half way to work i get a call on my handphone - school was canceled for the day .....

i'm considering making a reality show

of my present life - my life as a clueless new homeowner.

Jakarta to Chicago

2007-07-26T02:55:00.000+07:00

We have moved to the Chicago area to a small community called Brookfield. Moving to the States has been quite the adventure. The various times we have moved overseas, everything has been prearranged concerning housing and such making the actual move rather strait forward. Not so with this move back to the States as we touched down in Ohare airport with two little ones, no vehicles and no where to live. Fortunately we secured jobs while still in Indonesia. So the last few weeks have been a blur of car and house shopping and dealing with other items to get ourselves established over here as a family. After looking at around 20 houses and having one deal fall through, we have a contract on a house. Now we jump through all the paper work hoops and write lots of checks.

Our first house. It has a deck, a good kitchen and seems to run well, so I like it.

Prepared in Jakarta

2007-06-03T23:32:00.001+07:00

Emmerson is ready.

Jakarta Baby Revisited

2007-05-20T17:09:00.001+07:00

I am presently typing with one hand because my other is helping to cradle our three day old baby. Ada Rose Duell was born at 4pm in Medistra hospital, Jakarta, Indonesia on the 17th of May. She is presently making little sheep like sounds while sleeping.

Emmerson is growing nicely into her big sister role, We were a bit curious to how this would go because of some of the comments made by Emmerson about her prospective little brother or sister. When I told her that we were going to bring home a baby - she looked very concerned shook her head emphatically and said "no baby". Wayan, Emmerson' s nanny, told me that Emmerson said "give the baby to Lelise?" - who is another nanny of friends of ours. More to come later as this one hand typing is getting quite unpleasant.

Here are the vital statistics and my initial thoughts on the birth of Ada.

Sex:Girl

Name: Ada Rose Duell

Weight: 9lbs

Length: metric - Alicia figured out the poundage and told me - I failed the metric unit in the 5th grade and have no idea what the centimeter equivalent is so ignored this bit of data.

Ian here reporting for Alicia. We (and yes, I realize I did basically nothing - my duty this time around was to fan Alicia when she got hot - but am still going to use the inclusive plural) were expecting quite an ordeal due to our experience with Emmerson, but what a difference.

Emmerson took something like 36 hours to have - Ada didn't (I don't know when women officially begin counting the hours - have to wait for Alicia for that data)

The epideral with Emmerson didn't take - the epideral with Ada knocked Alicia's lower half into a very content state of being. At one point she said something like "I think something is going on, can you get a nurse" - the baby was already visible!

Emmerson took an hour of pushing with intense pain - the nurses had to tell Alicia when to push with Ada because she could barely feel the contractions.

Emmerson finally arrived, bleated like a lamb once or twice and then slept for several days all bundled up in her wrap - Ada came out screaming like crazy and had already removed her wrap five minutes after being placed in the incubator.

Emmerson had a fine mist of blond hair - Ada has a huge mop of black hair

After Emmerson, Alicia was a sweaty mess - less than an hour after Ada, she was eating dinner and watching American Idol

I came home and showed the video I took of Ada on our macbook to Emmerson and told her the name of the new baby - she looked intently and said her name, so hopefully she will be a good big sister.

Alicia is doing fine - impressively beautiful even after pushing out 9 lbs of kid. Ada is wrinkly and beat up looking but I am expecting her to pan out fine.

Jakarta to Kalimantan

2007-05-20T12:40:00.000+07:00

Samboja refers to an area in Kalimantan about an hours drive from the capital city, Balipapan. About fifty years ago the area was clear cut by logging companies and left to fend on its own. The results were typical of deforested areas: soil depletion, species loss, and hearty fast growing "weedy" plants covering the previously forested landscape. The Samboja organization, part of BOS (The Borneo Orangutan Survival Foundation), consists of three different projects; orangutan and sunbear rehabilitation and with the orangutans, eventual release back into their natural habitat, reforestation of the area with hardwood trees, and an ecolodge. We took our students to Samboja for a week so they could experience first hand a very interesting and unique aspect of Indonesia.

Mining is big business in Kalimantan as evidenced by this sign that greets arriving visitors in the airport. This is the first sign that you see as you enter the airport from the tarmac.

This picture is taken from the lodge that is built into the slope of one side of a valley. At the base of the valley is a group of mandmade islands where the orangs that are being rehabed live. On the other slope are enormous cages that house the rehabed orangs waiting for reintroduction into their natural habitat.

The ecolodge - very impressive.

The fire tower provides for an excellent survey view of the area and of the work being done by the Samboja group.

Dave H. making a commando style exit from the "Jungle Truck", which was needed to navigate many of the muddy roads in the area. It was a Mercedes Benz truck made for farmers back in Germany. It was widely used in Germany during WWII and is often modified to serve safari adventures.

An orang on one of the rehab islands. You can not get too close to the orangs as they must break their relationship with humans to successfully be reintroduced into the wild. Also orangs are very susceptible to human diseases, another reason for keeping the distance. One of the islands has several orangs that have hepatitis - they will never be reintroduced into a natural habitat as they could easily decimate a population living in the wild by spreading the disease.

Planting teak trees. Difficult work as the scruff that has grown up in the area is quite dense and needs to be removed in order for the teak saplings to successfully take root and grow.

We played a friendly match against the Samboja team. They played some nice football and the pitch was huge - actually it had no side boundaries and the ref was quite willing to let play progress well into the underbrush bordering the field - definite home team advantage

Preparing seedling soil pots in the nursery. One of the highlights of this part of the trip was sampling the various fruits growing in the nursery area. When the head gardener noticed my curiosity in the different fruit trees, he began taking me from tree to tree, giving me fruit to try - very exciting as several types were new to me.

Jakarta's Latest ManU Fan

2007-04-29T19:36:00.000+07:00

The other day Emerson exchanged her clothes for one of my soccer jerseys. She then proceeded to run around the room yelling "Go ManU" for the next twenty minutes.

Emmerson in mid chant.

Santa's Sleigh: Bonding in Jakarta

2007-04-06T17:15:00.000+07:00

Safari Land. The blurry effect is to replicate what your mind has to be like when you enter into this land. You can see the dragon returning to its stable and the giraffe emmerging from Jungle Land taking a brave little girl for a ride she will never forget - even if she wants to.

I have finally arrived at the point in parenting where I can manage going to those “funland” places where they have ball crawls, see saws, bouncing things and various other dangerous devices. There was a time in my life when I would never even consider stepping foot in one of these places let alone actively participate in and support its existence. But things have changed and now I join thethrongs of nannies in making sure that the little ones are not crushed by the big hyper kid doing a WWF style, off the ropes dive into the ball crawl.

The “funland” at our mall is called Safari Land and the play area has a sort of jungle theme and is called Jungle Jumpland or something of the sort. There is a procedure to getting your kid into Jungle Jumpland and of course it is filled with all sorts of complicated steps and maneuvers. The workers already treat me with a bit of wary skepticism – because I am not Indonesian and not a nanny. Add to the fact that I forget the requisite socks and look like a slack jawed yokel because I enter into that glassy eyed, just short of shock stage that dads go into when they undertake things like themed restaurants, toddler/mother care type stores, and “funlands”.

But I am changing and now enter Safari Land like a seasoned veteran, bring my own socks and help manage the tumbling toddlers determined to somehow hurt themselves even though everything has rounded edges and is relatively soft. Due to my new found confidence, I felt it was finally time to conquer one of the more bizarre offerings of Safari Land; the forward moving, machine operated, rideable creatures.

The Chinese Dragons make quite an impression as they lurch out of Safari Land into the mall proper.

Four years ago, upon first seeing these things in action, they were so startlingly strange and unusually fascinating that I would actually follow them around the mall. Unfortunately, a description does not do these things justice but I will give it a shot. They include a variety of animals, a few Chinese dragons and a Santa’s sleigh attached to two reindeer. Most are in various states of disrepair, the lion is missing an eye, the fur on dog is ratty and patchy so it looks like it has contracted mange, the elephant has one tusk and it is sagging. They make quite a frightening site as they shuffle jerkily around the mall like something out of a Hollywood, B Zombie movie.

Giraffe.

Four years of living in Jakarta and two years of being a dad do a lot to a person, and today I actually thought this forlorn looking group of critters looked neat and that Emmerson would enjoy a ride on one. I bought her a ticket and then allowed her to peruse the lineup so she could choose one to ride. She chose Santa’s Sleigh. I didn’t like Santa’s Sleigh and tried to urge her to select the deranged dragon or the mangy dog, but she was set on the sleigh. She had to wait her turn as another kid had dibs and I watched with a tiny bit of concern as the reindeer began shuffling and the sleigh began jerking rather violently up and down, and back and forth. My concern grew as the sleigh came into site around a corner on its return journey. The carriage was still bucking erratically and the kid had a strange look on his face – one that said “I know this is supposed to be fun and I should be smiling but in fact it is scary and I am confused by this whole experience”. Unfortunately, Emmerson's skills of observations and intuition are not quite as keen as mine and she did not understand the look on the child as he came down the final stretch of a very disturbing experience. When I urged her to select another of the less violent looking creatures she again, insisted on Santa’s Sleigh.

The infamous Santa's Sleigh waiting for its next victim/rider.

I believe the chicken was out of commission or it had been acting particularly ornery and its handler had put it in the corner for a "time out" session.

When the guide (a handler trained in the unique idiosyncratic behavior of each of the creatures) spurred the reindeer on and the sleigh began to buck violently, I realized that even though Emmerson was smiling, she was actually in danger of getting whiplash from this ride. After about 20 feet of shuffling and bucking I actually placed my hand behind Emmerson’s head to keep it from whipping backward as the sleigh lunged this way and that. Every time I would take my hand away she got that same confused look on her face worn by the previous rider. To add to the overall bizarre and increasingly disturbing quality of the experience, half way through the trip, we heard emanating from deep within the bowels of one of Santa's reindeer not Jingle Bell's or some other appropriate Christmas themed music, but Celine Dion's voice belting out a particularly emotional rendering of the Titanic theme song. Finally, the handler guided the reindeer home and the sleigh was put to rest. I looked at Emmerson and she at me in a special, knowing way; for we had just experienced one of those unique moments in life where a special bond is forged that will remain with us for the rest of our lives. So in the future when she is angry at me for not letting her stay out late, upset because she failed her driving test again, or mad at her mom for embarrassing her again in front of her friends, I will simply have to say “Santa’s Sleigh” and everything will be seen in its proper perspective, and be OK.

Another "fun" land. Emmerson and I on the elephant ride.

Jakarta Traffic

2007-03-04T16:25:00.000+07:00

The other evening I went out for a run. My route primarily consists of two residential neighborhoods which are quite nice to run in. But to get from one neighborhood to the other, a few busy streets need navigating. It was late afternoon on a Friday and the streets were full up with rush hour traffic. I was half way into my run when I came to the first crossing. I stood on the curb for only a brief moment before I turned towards traffic, lifted my arm as one would do when parting waters, evoking a higher power, or acknowledging a crowd of devoted followers and stepped directly into the line of cars barreling down on me. I strutted across the street, arm held high, staring each car down, exuding absolute confidence as I stepped defiantly into each of the three lanes of oncoming traffic. When I made it to the other side and began running again, I thought to myself, what in the hell did I just do? It was then I realized that I had unconsciously used for the first time, one of the superpowers that all residence of Jakarta eventually get which enable them to survive life in this city - the ability to stop moving vehicles by simply holding one's arm aloft and stepping boldly into the line of traffic. Perhaps it was simply a matter of time before the two required pieces came together - as both the arm motion and bravado are essential - attempting a crossing using one without the other is courting disaster. And I think when you leave Jakarta the superpowers stay behind - so don't raise your arm and step boldly into the path of an oncoming New York cabby.

Jakarta Flood

2007-02-12T00:16:00.000+07:00

The street in front of the school.
Parts of Jakarta were flooded last week. It rained hard for two days but the ground was not yet saturated as the monsoon had been mild so far this year. So the rain alone should not have been enough to cause the massive flooding that certain areas experienced. All sorts of explanations have been whirling around but most point at corrupt and/or ineffective government. Much of Jakarta is at or below sea level so it is very important to control the amount of water coming into the city from the surrounding hills and within the city itself. This is done by a canal sytem through which water can be moved from one part of the city to another and eventually out to sea. Well, this did not work last week. Several of our friends houses and cars were damaged and we were inconvenienced somewhat but 1000's of people lost everything - and as is typical in the developing world - it is the poor who are most effected. Those with money have second stories on their houses and the means to evacuate. If you want to help, go and make a zillion dollars, pay off all the government officials to go away, then hire a team of urban developers and engineers the likes of who appear on the Discovery Channel type shows like MegaMonsterMachines. Pay them a ton of money if and only if they successfully rebuild the infrastructure of Jakarta.

Actually there are a number of relief agencies doing an excellent job of taking care of those in need and of course they need money. We are focusing on several members of our Indonesian staff who lost most of their stuff. The following are some images from our experience with the flood.

Our school is built up a bit from the street so most of it remained above water. The soccer field became a lake but that was about it. We also had a generator and our own supply of water, both of which were unavailable throughout the rest of the community. Several teachers who lived off campus ended up making their way to the school. Here is Olga, with her two little ones, Kiana, and Isabella, making her way to school from her flooded house, with the help of a few other teachers. It ended up we could not stay at school because getting off the campus was impossible unless you walked in thigh deep water or you hired a large truck to get you out. We did not have enough food at school to feed everyone. We also had many kids, including several toddlers and newborns and Alicia is 7 months pregnant, so we decided it would be best to evacuate to an unaffected part of the city for a few days.

The army truck leaving NJIS.
We decided to evacuate on Sunday, two days after the flood began. The water had been slowly increasing and all sorts of rumors were spreading about flood gates in the hills being opened, super high tide not allowing the water to recede, pumps here and there being broken. NJIS is built on a little high ground so it becmae a vitual island. Our generator kept the power and water running but we could not get out to food, medical service and such as the roads had become rivers. So somone made a few phone calls and the army came in one of their big transport trucks to get us out of the flooded area.

The army truck trying to navigate a way out of Kelapa Gading.
In addition to the water, broken down abandoned vehicles, underwater hazards like potholes and curbs, and various people walking and floating about made driving a challenge.

Emmerson on the truck.
She was pretty good thoughout the entire ordeal but the truck ride created a bit of a dilemma for her. It was during nap time so her body wanted to sleep, but it was exciting so she did not want to miss anything. Her curious mind won - but it was a battle.

Arriving at the hotel, where we could only stay for one night before moving again, because their water pump broke - not good when it is full to capacity of evacuees - many who had waded through nasty Jakarta flood water to get there.

Staircases of South East Asia

2007-01-23T22:22:00.000+07:00

For the Christmas and New Years holidays, we visited three wonderful cities of Southeast Asia, each offering a very different experience. Singapore was a nice starting point as its pleasant orderliness is such a contrast to the chaos of Jakarta. Bangkok continues to deliver and live up to its reputation as a truly fascinating travel destination. And Hanoi is a city in transition, still offering plenty of tradition but with the vitality of a place on the move.

Enjoying a street side "beer from a hose" on New Years Eve in Hanoi. These drinkeries are quite common in Hanoi and offer cheap beer, eats and great vantage point to watch the city go by.

I am considering crafting a coffee table book showcasing the staircases of SE Asia. I have become quite the connoisseur due to Emmerson’s fixation with the vertical walkways. Hotel lobbies, restaurants, shopping malls, Ho Chi Min’s mausoleum, parks, even a street curb will do in a pinch.

Not so tiny baby anymore taking a break from her busy schedule long enough to pose in front of "Uncle Ho's" final resting place.

While in Hanoi airport Emmerson needed one more perusal of the staircase connecting the arrival hallway to the immigration area. We heard a commotion upstairs in the arrival area and left the stairs for a moment to check it out. A ceiling tile lay on the floor in pieces and two airport workers were excitedly talking about something. Next to the wall lay the cause of the collapsed ceiling piece; a well fed foot long rat had apparently become a bit too well fed for its ceiling home and fell through the tile. Of course Emmerson wanted a close up look of the “puppy” – it was that big – but I quickly got her refocused on the staircase.

The staircases on the boats that service Halong Bay are very steep which offered Emmerson quite an exciting challenge. The scenery was pretty impressive as well.

Emmerson taking a break from the stairs at Halong Bay in north Vietnam.

Jakarta to Bali

2006-11-05T19:54:00.000+07:00

Six days into our trip I opted to press "OK" when the "erase all" command appeared on the digital camera. A little advice - if you want things to go smoothly while vacationing - DO NOT do this. So I won't be posting a "Monet-esque" series of beach sunsets. Also missing are heaps of photos with descriptions like; Emmerson digging on the beach with shovel, Emmerson digging with fingers, Emmerson smiling and digging, Emmerson digging and smiling and so on. We have taken previous trips to the Bali beaches and to Ubud (the part of the trip I erased)and the photos do get repetitive so it is actually not really so bad, that I erased the 100 + pictures - at least I freed up alot of disc space. The one photo I am very disappointed about losing was of an enormous pig riding in the back of a pickup truck. The following images are of our drive from Ubud to Tirta Gangga on the east coast and of the sites around this stunning part of Bali.

The Amandari hotel built overlooking a gorge on the outskirts of Ubud. I think it is in one of those "1000 Things You Should See During Your Lifetime" books. I was too busy trying to conjure up the photos I had just erased to fully enjoy the experience.

A huge volcanic crater in the highlands of Bali. It has a large lake, a town, and a large volcanic cone inside of the crater.

Not so tiny baby anymore at a restaurant overlooking the crater.

The Water Palace at Tirta Gangga. It is a beautifully maintained garden interspursed with various pools of water and surrounded by rice paddies. We stayed at a bungalow within the grounds.

Another volcano visible from the parking lot of the Water Palace.

From the Water Palace there are many walks that you can take into the rice paddies that dominate the landscape of this part of Bali.

We ventured into a village on one of our walks and came across this calf.

Not so tiny baby anymore in the rice fields of Bali.

Some ladies carrying their wares through the rice fields.

Jack fruit in a bag. This is done as the fruit is in its last stage of ripening to keep it free from hungry critters.

Roosters for sale on the side of the road - a commonsite in the villages of Bali.

Good use of empty Friskies cat food bags.

Sasquatch crossing. I first saw such a sign outside my hotel in Legian beach and thought it was to warn motorists of unaware tourists crossing the road - thus the lumbering size and shape of the individual on the sign. But I saw these same signs in non touristy areas so it must just be the Balinese style indicating any pedestrian crossing.

The ubiquitous baby in sunglasses shot. Emmerson says "cool dude" when she sees people wearing sunglasses.

This is how I looked at the end of the trip after the flight home. Nothing quite like traveling with a little one.

Emmerson as a bug, Alicia as a ManU fan and me as an exaggerated version of myself on vacation.

Jakarta Romance

2006-10-02T22:21:00.003+07:00

I was looking for a card the other day in one of the local department stores and came across these touching sentiments. Good to know that romance is alive and well in Jakarta!

Jakarta to Bromo

2006-09-29T12:37:00.000+07:00

The sun's first rays wash the lunaresque Tengger Caldera in a wave of orange light. Mount Bromo is the small smoking crater located in the left midground.

The island of Java is really crowded. Indonesia is the fourth most populated country but its population distribution is rather lopsided. Most Indonesians live on the island of Java. On those cool National Geographic type Earth at Night posters Java sparkles like a diamond while the rest of the archipelago appears as a black hole. Java is the most developed of the Indonesian islands but it’s shiny appearance at night is mostly because it is jam packed with people. Depending on the flavour of the month for determining population stuff, many demographers put the island at the top of the prestigious “most densely populated regions on earth” list and after this weekends jaunt to Mount Bromo in east Java I am inclined to agree with their decision.

In order to fully understand a densely populated place you need to get outside of the urban environment and into its rural setting. Jakarta, Java’s and Indonesia’s largest city is crazy crowded but such is the nature of most cities. But the majority of Java’s population is densely packed into its rural areas. It is difficult to go anywhere on the island without seeing people, lots and lots of people. This reality became glaringly apparent on a recent trip I made to the mountainous interior to see one of Indonesia’s famous natural sites, Mount Bromo.

The large volcano in the back welcomed the day by erupting just as the sunrise began.

Mt. Bromo is one of many active volcanoes on the island of Java. It sits in a giant bowl that contains several active, semi active and dormant volcanic cones. To get there the easy way, which I recommend if you have a small child who thinks that sitting still really sucks, you arrange ahead of time for your hotels and for a guide, car and driver all of which expedite travel time. It cost a bit extra but just subtract it from your kids college fund. Fly to Surabaya, Indonesia’s second largest city, and stay in a nice hotel, we recommend the Majapahit. After a short stay at this beautiful old hotel, you might be tempted to skip the Bromo excursion but resist this urge and carry on. The next day you embark on a leisurely drive through the Indonesian countryside until you reach the Lava Lodge which is perched on the rim of the enormous volcanic bowl which contains Bromo and the other volcanic cones. After dinner retire early because you will be woken up at 3:30 am, bustled into a Toyota Land cruiser jeep for the hour drive across the “Sea of Sand” and a busy morning of seeing some spectacular natural beauty and a lot of people.

Mount Bromo's ever present sulphur cloud.

There were many signs on this journey that made me stop and say to my self – “Java sure is crowded”. The crowd is not overwhelming but there are people everywhere. The first sign was pretty bizarre and involves a lot of stuff that I will not go into partly because it will take a long time but mostly because it entails engineering and geologic stuff that I simply don’t get. The toll way leading out from Surabaya towards Bromo is under threat of being buried in a mudslide, actually it’s more like a mud ooze than a slide. Evidently, due to human error and gross negligence an oil drill released water from an underground aquifer and as the pressurized water shot to the surface it picked up all sorts of earth which appeared on the surface as mud. The mud spill has turned into a sizeable lake and is wreaking havoc on the people surrounding the affected area. What does this have to do with crowds? The fact that there is large oil drilling operation smack dab in a residential area points to the reality that pretty much anywhere in Java where you put an oil rig is going to be in and around a bunch of people.

The next indicator of Java’s crowds became apparent as we snaked our way up into the mountains that make up the backbone of Java. These mountains reach almost 10,000 feet and many have extremely steep slopes. The majority of these ruggedly majestic mountains are deforested and crop cultivation is evident on all but the steepest slopes. People need food and fuel to cook the food and there are a whole lot of them meticulously cultivating the mountainous interior of Java.

Hanging out with some other bundled up travelers waiting for the sun to rise over the calderra.

The third sign of Java’s vigorous population appeared at the popular scenic overlook where people gather to watch the sunrise over the volcanic bowl which contains Bromo and other volcanic cones. We approached the lookout at five in the morning after driving for an hour across the “Sea of Sand”, the most desolate piece of land I have ever driven across, and inching up some of the steepest chunks of pavement I have ever inched up. Near the summit we were greeted by a sea of people, actually not a sea because a sea spreads out, there is not much spreading on top of a mountain, so it was actually a huge blob of people. We had to park our Landcruiser several hundred kilometres below the peek because there were so many other vehicles parked on the hill. Industrious youngsters on scooters were taking advantage of the situation to shuttle people from the beginning of the make shift parking lot to the top of the mountain and the lookout point. It was quite a crazy scene with motor scooters weaving in and out of parked jeeps and bleary eyed tourists all in the wee hours of the morning. At the lookout we jockeyed for position and kind of saw the sun appear – through a lot of wool capped heads (they sell Bromo toques for those unprepared for the ‘cold’) and woolly mitten covered hands holding up various photo taking devices above the crowd trying to get a lasting memory of the sunrise. After the sun came up the crowd dispersed a bit and I could finally take account of the teeming mass of humanity that had amassed on this mountain top. It was a long weekend and apparently this is one of the things that lots of people living on Java do for fun.

Peering into the crater of Mount Bromo.

The view from the top of Mount Bromo over the Sea of Sand. Below, the Hindu temple and throngs of people are visible.

After the sunrise we drove around the rim of the bowl that gave a commanding view into the “Sea of Sand”. The scene below was reminiscent of the original Mad Max movie as 100’s of vehicles made their way across the ash covered landscape raising huge clouds of dust into the air. We soon made our way into the bowl and joined in on the Mad Max dash. Greeting us at the foot of mount Bromo were hundreds of porters and their horses offering transport up to the base of Bromo for the blob of people who had migrated from the scenic overlook. Foregoing the horses we walked up the hill, which was tiring, and then up 250 steps to the top of the Bromo crater. From there you have a commanding view into the crater and the sulphur enriched cloud spewing from its innards. After this it was back down to the jeep, another mad dash across the Sea of Sand and up to the hotel for a nice breakfast. Then back in the car for a ride down to Surabaya which usually takes 3 hours. But due to the closing of the toll road because of the mud ooze it took about 5 hours as we joined the throngs of motorists forced from the toll onto a mediocre sized side road.

Not so tiny baby anymore at the foot of Mount Bromo.

The trip was not without its hassles but it was incredible in all of its bizarre facets. Going to Bromo is a must do in Java and when you do, take a moment to consider that you are indeed in one of the most crowded and yet stunning places on our planet.

Jakarta Curiosities

2006-09-28T19:32:00.000+07:00

Recently I came across this write up in my files and realized I had never made it a post. It is dated and several of the principle characters have moved on. But the curiosities mentioned are still quite relevant to my life in Jakarta.

The other morning as we exited our car in the school parking lot we were greeted by Mr. Townley pulling up on a kids bicycle. I figured that his car was in the shop and he was making due with what he had but inquired anyway. The answer he gave was much unexpected. Apparently five of his students did not know how to ride a bike and he had to give them riding lessons after school. What's the big deal? Nice guy this Mr. Townley staying after teaching his little ones a valuable life skill. All good and well ... BUT Mr. Townley teaches ninth grade English! He is taking the ninth grade to Perth, Australia next week on their class trip part of which involves a bike ride. Last year he did not find out about this culturally bred phenomenon until they were actually on the bike ride. It was a bit of a harrowing experience for the novice riders and responsible teachers. This year when Mr. Townley proactively inquired about the student’s bike riding knowledge, five students said they did not know how to ride a bike. So every day for the last week Mr. Townley and students Shirley, Dimas, Kwan Young, Margaret and Alan made their way to the gymnasium to learn how to ride a bike. The thing that really struck me about this whole situation was that it was no big deal. The students were not embarrassed or made fun of by any classmates. Imagine this situation in the States?! I then thought about my own learning to ride a bike as a child experience - how many times I wiped out - how much of the road I needed to wobble about on and how I was unable to stop for a long time. Then I thought about those situations here in the city of Jakarta and it made a lot more sense why these kids never learned to ride a bike - self preservation.

A few more examples of the fascinating use and abuse of the English language - click here for more "Fun with Languages"

Alicia spotted a little boy the other day in the mall with a shirt that stated "Nazi Punks F... Off!". We guessed he was around seven years old and hoped he was oblivious. Maybe he has really angry parents or an English speaking maid with a peculiar sense of humor.

The other day I was at the bowling alley overseeing the afternoon activity period and noticed a fellow with the word "walrus" printed boldly on his shirt. That was it - a green shirt with "walrus" emblazed across his chest. No image, no quirky description just "walrus".

At the mall the other day Alicia noticed a young girl, probably in 5th grade or so sporting a shirt with (and I am going to use censors here because I am) "F....... U" as in "Harvard U" or "Stanford U".

Probably my all time favorite so far was the shirt of a young man - perhaps in college - with a shirt sporting a picture of that wacky cartoon character Woody Woodpecker accompanied by the description "Woody F.....ing Wood Pecker" (perhaps for the benefit of those who did not actually recognize the image on the shirt).

Jakarta Identity Crisis

2006-06-21T21:17:00.000+07:00

Who’s your daddy?

Daddy!?

One of Emmerson’s favourite words is “daddy”. She points to me and says daddy. Sometimes she even does a bit of a chant or draws out the word real long while pointing at me. It makes me feel good. But recently I have noticed that the word daddy isn’t just reserved for me. She also says daddy while pointing to various objects. What a smart girl! Already making associations! Or so I thought until today. All sorts of summer construction projects are taking place on campus. Alicia told me that yesterday she met up with Wayan walking Emmerson around the campus. Emmerson was pointing to all the workers saying “daddy”. Today at the supermarket she called a guy stocking the shelf “daddy”.

Daddy!?

Daddy!?

We went to Rangunan Zoo this morning and spent all of our time in the primate section. I recommend a trip if you are looking for something to do in Jakarta. The orang-utans definitely stole the show. I can’t speak for the rest of the zoo but the primate area was quite entertaining and interesting. Emmerson can now make animal noises. She’s got dog, cat, sheep, cow, horse, frog, and elephant down pat. Apparently she wasn’t quite prepared for what she would find at the zoo. But she gave it a shot. The big ones got the dog sound and the smaller the cat.

Nice puppies.

Another of Emmerson’s favourite words is ball. I wrote previously about the impact balls have on her life. It has not abated. In celebration of the World Cup, the Sport Mall has erected a 20 foot pyramid of soccer balls standing in the lobby. Emmerson almost had a conniption when she saw it for the first time. She proceeded to walk around the structure patting random soccer balls while keeping up a steady chant of “ball, ball”. Recently she began saying “ball” and pointing into space while in the street, while driving, in a clothing store – places where balls simply don’t exist. Apparently she has a rather broad definition of the word “ball” to include pretty much any somewhat spherical object: apple – “baaallll”; balloon – “baaaallll”; ornamental vase – “baaaallll”; black and white striped curb (soccer ball??) – “baaalll”.

"Baalllll"

So if you ever see a little blonde girl tugging on a random Indonesian guys pants saying daddy while pointing into space yelling ball - thats my girl!

Jakarta Food

2006-05-31T13:27:00.000+07:00

Its hard not to get excited about food. So this should be exciting. As I was perusing the fruit section of the supermarket the other day looking for something new to try, the idea of documenting fruit came to mind. Today while I was trying to entertain my brain while proctoring a final exam I realized that I had never written much about the food of Jakarta, Indo and southeast asia in general. So my fruit entry has grown, at least in my mind, to include various foods of Jakarta and Indonesia. I will also include some other interesting items from outside Indo if I feel like it but will certainly indicate its origins. This will be an ongoing process as I want to include my own pictures of the various culinary delights and I just found out this morning as I was about to take a photo of a large bowl of nangka Wayan was preparing for dinner that my camera might be on the fritz. I will also include some pictures posted previously if the photo depicts well a certain food. In viewing my previous entries I actually came across one of my first titled "Eating in Indo". It mentioned some of my experiences but I will try and make this entry a bit more informative. The descriptions I am going to include are from my experiences - so tastes, colors, smells, etc may vary from other sources.

Fruit in Indonesia is quite an experience. The variety is incredible, cheap and always fresh.

Passion Fruit. In Bahasa Indonesia it is called a markisa. It looks rather like a large orange colored egg and its "skin" is quite shell like. The inside is filled with a glutinous substance filled with crunchy little seeds. It can be a bit of a struggle to get over the texture - unless you are fond of mucous, and then the texture will not be a problem. It is sweet and has a taste unlike any other fruit I have experienced so is rather difficult to explain.

Dragon fruit. I only know it by this name. It has a crazy looking skin; bright pink with spiky, green leafy things growing off of it. The fruit itself is crisp and watery, similar to a watermelon but a bit denser. The seeds look rather ominous but are barely noticeable when you eat the fruit. I have eaten this fruit in Thailand and Vietnam but surprisingly not in Indo - it is not commonly available.

Jack fruit. In Bahasa Indonesia it is called nangka. Although this jackfruit is growing on a tree in Vietnam, the fruit is commonly eaten all over Southeast Asia and is quite popular in Indonesia. The fruit can grow rather large, has a thick skin with lots of tiny little non-sharp needles and contains many pods inside. Surrounding each seed is a yellow fleshy covering. It has a strong smell but the taste is pleasant. A friend of mine described it as tasting like bubble gum. This is interesting, because I recently read that perhaps the flavor of Juicy Fruit gum originated from the jack fruit. It is a dense fruit and is packed with carbohydrates. In its immature stage, it is often the main ingredient in savory dishes, most typically, curries. Indonesians cook it with coconut milk and a bunch of spices and it is incredibly tasty.

Thai Jeruk and Jambu The Thai Jeruk are simply oranges from Thailand that are green when ripe. They will begin to turn a bit orangy green when the become more ripe but never turn totally orange. There are many different types of jambu. I am not sure which this is but all are similar in that they have a crisp and somewhat watery texture. The taste of this particular jambu was very unique. The best way to describe it is "spicy". It actually reminded me of a spiced Christmas cider, with cinnamon being the strongest spice evident. A very interesting flavor.

Persimonnes, Thai Jeruk, Star Fruit The persimonnes were an interesting experience. The only other time I have had them was in Japan where they are called kaki. They had a much tougher skin, more and harder seeds and a bit stronger taste. When I bought these persimmonnes they were coated in some sort of protective white covering. I just looked in the "Eat Smart in Indonesia" book to find out what they are called in Bahasa Indonesia and what do you know, they had an explanation for the coating. They are called kesemek and are coated in lime water if they are to be candied. The lime water coating keeps them from becoming mushy when cooking in syrup during the candying process. I did not know that if coated they were meant for the syrup pot. Instead, when I got home I gave them a good scrub which caused them to age prematurely. They began to shrivel and go soft. I cut open a few and they tasted fine, very seedy with a meaty texture and quite sweet. The Thai oranges, accompanying the star fruit and persimonnes, are ripe when green. They are quite ordinary except for their color. The star fruit is citrus tasting. The ones pictured are just barely ripe. In this stage they are somewhat tart. As they ripen the color becomes a darker orange and the flavor becomes sweeter.

Mangosteen and mangoes In Bahasa Indonesia they are manggis and mangga. The manggis have a segmented white sectons with a few pits. Often the pits are soft and edible. The fruit is very sweet with just a tad of citrus flavor. It can be a little tricky to pick ones that are good; the hard skin needs to give a little when pressed. If it is hard then the fruit inside is damaged. The tropics have a diverse variety of mangoes. Most of the ones we see in Indo are green when ripe. Some are extremely sweet and almost custard like while others are somewhat tart and more fibrous in texture. This particular mango was of the tart variety. The flesh is almost always a vivid orange. Its hard to beat a fresh mango.

Drinks Coffee, tea and cocoa are each grown as cash crops in Indonesia.

This is a what a cocoa pod looks like. Inside are the beans which will be used to make chocolate and cocoa drinks. The beans are quite bitter but certainly "chocolaty" - something like unsweetened baking chocolate. This particular cocoa tree was growing in a garden in central Sulawesi, Indonesia.

Coffee growing in Losario in the highlands of Java. The former Dutch plantation has incorporated a resort on its grounds but still produces and process its own coffee. When the beans turn a reddish color they are ripe. Inside are the "beans" that we would recognize as coffee. They are a greenish color and only turn brown after roasting. Emmerson and myself for a size perspective of the coffee plant.

Coffee at Losario served up with a plate of palm sugar. The sugar is made from the berry like fruit of a palm tree. Palm trees are an important resource in Indonesia and are used to make products such as oil, sugar, and alcohol. Palm sugar is a bit like brown sugar from the States but richer and creamier. It is the sweetener of choice throughout Indo.

Tea growing in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia. The crop is grown throughout the tropics in higher elevations where the temperatures are cooler than the lowlands. Tea plants are quite severely cultivated to maintain their bush like dimesnions. If left to grow naturally they reach heights of a small tree. I am standing on just such a tea plant in the first photo.

Drinking tuac in Tana Toraja, Sulawesi, Indo. Another gift of the palm tree, tuac, or palm wine, actually ferments in the tree itself. I am not sure of the details, but supposedly some sugary juice collects in pockets in the tree, ferments and voila - instant wine. It is rather sweet and sours over time so is best drunk fresh. They sell it in markets in recycled water bottles ciphoned out of large buckets.

It is impossible to summarize the cooked cuisine of Indo but these are a few of the more common dishes. Many dishes are strongly spiced and coconut milk is a common ingredient which combines very nicely with the spicy mixtures.

Kangkung, a spinachy type of vgetable, is one of the most common dishes in Indo. The green grows almost anywhere and is gathered along roadsides, in drainage ditches and the like by Indos looking for a cheap, simple side dish.

Ikan Bakar or grilled fish is a popular dish all over Indo.

Ikan bakar, kangkun and a bit of rice makes for a nice meal

The above two photos are of nangka. It is prepared using the immature fruit of the jackfruit. The fruit is separated into sections and cooked in cocnut milk with a variety of spices. Very nice.

Rendang is a very popular meat dish in Indo. It is meat mixed in a spicy paste and simmered in coconut milk for a long time. The coconut milk reduces to the point where only the oil from the milk is left. The meat, at this point is very tender and extremely flavourful.

Shrimp ready for the barbecue at the beach in Pelabuhanratu, South Java, Indo. Seafood is very common and served in a wonderful variety of ways across the archipelago.

Seafood on a stick. A vendor in Ko Phi Phi, Thailand displays a tempting spread of various grilled items on a stick. The whole squid was excellent- served with a spicy hot and sweet sauce. I hope he is back in operation. This stall was on the walkway that runs along the beach. Ko Phi Phi was desemated by the tsunami of 2004.

Cooking fresh fish over an open fire using bamboo splints to hold the fish. This is on one of the islands near the Krakatoa complex of islands. No one lives on these islands. The people who make a living fishing these waterways occassionally stop by to steady there sea legs and visitors to the Krakatoa volcano often camp on the islands.

These pigs are being prepped for a Sulawesi style funeral barbecue where large amounts of pig are cooked and consumed. Sites like this are not too common in Indo as the majority of the population is Muslim and thus avoid pork as a dietary taboo. But in areas that are not primarily Muslim pork is eaten. Parts of Sulawesi practice traditional animism and animism mixed with Christiantiy. West Papaua is probably the most "pig friendly" area as its traditional economy is actually based on pigs. The pigs here are having their very stiff hair burned off.

A blob of red curry paste from a market in Chang Mai, Thailand. Spice mixtures like this are popular all over Southeast Asia and can be purchased from large vats in many markets and grocery stores.

The ubiquitous Jakarta Kakilima. I am sure to any Jakartan abroad this image would conjure up some memories. Kakilima translates into five feet. I have heard various explanations as to why they are called five legs but the one that most makes sense to me is that the vendor is the fifth leg of the cart. Anyway, they are all over Jakarta and are very popular for a snack or quick meal. They sell all sorts of food but each kakilima will specialize in one type of dish such as nasi goreng (fried rice) or bakso (noodle soup). They might set up shop in one location or travel the streets selling their goods. They often come into neighborhoods and each has a certain "call" that alerts potential customers. The call might be vocal or a sound made by certain objects. Each is unique and people recognize what is available by the sound of the kakilima guy. Its a pleasant part of Jakartan street life and an integral part of the food scene here in the city

Jakarta Contrasts

2006-05-03T22:56:00.000+07:00

I went for a stroll through my neighborhood and a drive around greater Jakarta with some friends the other day. The contrasts that exist in this city are striking. Huge housing complexes hosting multimillion dollar mansions dwarf makeshift shanty towns. Giant multinational corporations and enormous shopping plazas loom menacingly over tiny mom and pop "warungs". Brilliant green fields growing local produce butt up against dingy brown canals and dull grey roadways. The essence of Jakarta is in these contrasts and explains so well this teeming gotham of a city.

These images come from a community built on a swamp about a five minute drive from where I live. The people who live here pay 25$ a month to the landowner.

The living quarters and walkways built over the water.

The enormous Mall Artha Gading is across the street from the housing complex. Constuction in Kelapa Gading is progressing at a frenzied rate and show no signs of slowing down. Most likely the land where these houses are located will soon be developed.

One of Toyota's corporate buildings can be seen in the background.

A girl returning from a Saturday morning program at the complexes mosque. The walkways were sketchy to say the least. Fortunatley we had sveral kids tagging along and they told us which boards not to step on. Even so I broke through one of the boards much to their amusement.

Contrasting colors.

Just a kid hanging out.

An impromptu high jump competition.

Fast asleep.

On the street that parallels the complex are all sorts of small shops and other services including this apartment for doves.

For 500 rupiah (about 5 cents) a toddler gets a ride.

Below is a cemetery in Kemang, one of the more established neighborhoods in Jakarta and home to a large expat community.

Kemang cemetery

"Icy" trees

The central square in downtown Jakarta is home to the Monas statue.

Monas at sunset

Jakarta Ball Baby

2006-04-20T18:37:00.000+07:00

Emmerson with her ball

Emmerson's favorite object of late is the ball. Any round shape engages her attention and results in a chorus of "ball, ball!" We went to the Sport Mall the other day for a walk about. The Sport Mall, where "Shopping is sport",(see previous entry Jakarta Mall)inspires not only hard core shopping but houses a large arena that hosts various events including basketball. Upon arrival at the mall we went upstairs to the arena where there were a bunch of guys practicing. Emmerson went crazy and began her ball mantra. One of the guys heard and rolled a basketball to her. She patted it and then crawled onto the court. I scooped her up and took her out of the arena back into the mall. When I put her down she immediately did an about face and headed back towards the arena chanting "ball, ball". I picked her up again and carried her squirming and grumping back into the mall. When I finally put her down she made a bee line back to the arena. So I picked her up and carried her downstairs to the supermarket hoping that the distance and the attraction of the supermarket would make her forget about the balls. Wishful thinking; when I put her down and she got her bearings she began trying to make her way back to the arena. Finally I put her in a shopping cart and gave her an orange. She grumped a bit so I took her out of the cart. She took the orange, tried to bounce it on the floor and then pointed at the forlorn orange and said "ball, ball".

Stalking another ball in Bali.

Jakarta to Bangkok to Chang Mai

2006-04-07T11:31:00.000+07:00

At the Elephant Sanctuary

Elephants are a big attraction in Northern Thailand and like many tourist attractions, not without some controversy. Recently the Thai government banned logging in Thailand which put several thousand elephants and their mahouts (handlers) out of work. Elephant owners were now stuck with non earning, expensive animals that require a tremendous amount of food and care. Some continued to use the elephants to log illegally, others went into the tourist business. The "tourist elephants" ply their trade all over Thailand in a variety of forms; trekking elephants, trick performing elephants, and Bangkok begging elephants are the most common. Unfortunately many of these elephants are abused and live miserably; an elephant should not be walking around the streets of Bangkok for certain.

Enter in Lek, the founder of Elephant Nature Park. She has created a sanctuary that rescues sick, abused, and otherwise needy elephants. Their goal is to change the structure of the Thai elephant tourist trade to a more interactive format where visitors can interact with the elephants going through their daily routine rather than watching them perform or taking one for a brief ride. At the sanctuary you learn the story behind all of the elephants (some rather shocking tales of abuse and misuse - one was a meth addict - forced to take the drug so it could extend its work hours, another blinded, one who stepped on a landmine, etc). Lek brings in the elephants, rehabilitates them and tries to raise enough money to buy them from the owner. She has succeeded in forming a herd of about 40 elephants. They do not work anymore. In order to get the elephants to the point where they are trainable enough to work, whether its logging, performing, or trekking, a "breaking" procedure is conducted. I won't go into details but it is three days of brutal treatment done to the elephants when they are young. We saw a video of it and it was hard to watch. Lek's idea is to stop making work elephants - they are not needed anymore as the logging industry is finished. She wants the elephant attractions in Thailand to be an experience where people can come and pay a fee for a day of interacting with the elephants living a relatively "normal" life at sanctuaries. We had a great day at the park and I highly recommend a visit.

A white elephant. Its reddish color is due to the color of the dirt that they are constantly rubbing themselves with. Even so he was considerably lighter than all the other elephants. White elephants are quite rare and many end up belonging to the King of Thailand’s royal herd

A portion of the elephants daily food. We loaded two pick up trucks full of pineapples, bananas, corn, and pumpkins

The elephants were impressively nimble with their trunks and shockingly powerful with their mouths. They could pick the prickly leaves off the top of a pineapple and crush a pumpkin with their lips

Up close with an elephants mouth.

A three month old with her mom. She also had a nanny who was always close by. There was an occasion when one of the juvenile males got to close to the baby and the mom and nanny let him know in a very aggressive manner that he was not at all welcome. They ran into him and then chased him to another part of the compound. He took out his frustration by pestering the 85 year "old dame" of the group. She patiently endured this annoyance. Another time the baby wandered away from the protective couple. They trumpeted several times and when the baby did not respond they began tearing around the compound looking for her.

Little baby with the elephants.

Scenes from Chiang Mai

Fresh veggies at a market in Chiang Mai. The food scene in Thailand is incredible. Street food is delicious, cheap, safe and plentiful

Dragon Fruit. A type of fruit I never heard of before I went to Indo. Its name fits its looks very well.

The inside of a dragon fruit. The seeds are edible. It is very watery and a bit citrusee. They are a popular diet food among the young ladies in Southeast Asia.

The broom lady. Sweeping is serious business everywhere I have been in Southeast Asia.

The family house in the Baan Orapin Bed and Breakfast in Chiang Mai. Wonderful place to stay.

Little baby in the tub.

The view from the train between Chiang Mai and Bangkok. It is about a 13 hour ride. I did it during the day as I wanted to see the scenery but many people get a sleeper and do the trip at night. It cost me about $10 US. About 6 hours of the trip is in the "rice bowl" of Thailand, the fertile, well watered plain that makes up most of central Thailand. As you pass mile after mile of brilliant green rice fields you begin to see why Thailand is the number one exporter of rice in the world. I believe I had a second class ticket and the car was quite comfortable. It was air-conditioned but got a little warm in the heat of the day. We had ceiling fans to turn on to create an extra breeze. There was an attendant on board who handed out food and drink a few times. The train stopped at many towns and cities on the way which was a nice change in scenery from the endless plains. When the plains end as you near Chiang Mai, the landscape turns to hills with scrub brush and then forests. If you are the type of person who can stand sitting around without doing much and enjoy trains I recommend the trip - type A personalities take the plane.

Scenes from Bangkok

Alicia successfully thwarting the "I'm sorry its closed but I can take you to a special showing only taking place today - its just a short ride away and doesn't cost much - then I can take you to some secret gem stores and maybe you like a massage later?" scam. She told us the palace was closed due to a royal reception but she could take us on a tour of something else and then get us in for a special tour a little later blah, blah. Suddenly her relative showed up and was volunteered to be our driver wherever we were going. I said we don't want to go to any of those places. She she seemed genuinely shocked and asked why not! She didn't give up until I looked down the sidewalk a ways and saw people entering into the palace at another gate. She left us at that point and went after another potential victim. Notice how concerned the guard is about the obvious scam taking place.

Bangkok is built in, on and around the Chao Phraya River. Canals known as "klongs" wind there way through the city and are traditionally the center of Bangkok life. A great trip is to take a long tail boat back into the klongs where many of the old residential neighborhoods exist.

The ubiquitous Bangkok tuk-tuk.

Jakarta Mall Revisited

2006-04-06T19:54:00.000+07:00

I wrote previously about the Jakarta mall scene in general and some activities there concerning public displays of personal hygiene that might be considered curious to the uninitiated. Recently I have experienced a few more mall offerings related to body care that challenged my sense of the public versus the private. The giant new Hypemart in Kelapa Gading hosts a number of foot care stalls proudly displaying clients soaking their feet in vats of what looks like jelly with bits and chunks of unidentifiable stuff floating about. There is no attempt to shield the customers from the curious eyes of passer byes; on the contrary they are placed on display presumably to tempt potential foot weary shoppers to stop by and have a soak. Surrounding the stalls are posters showing larger than life blown up images of feet soaking in the buckets of substance flecked goop. I actually avert my eyes when I walk by these stalls because the photos are disturbing. Feet immersed in a crusty liquid, especially when blown up beyond life size, are not a pleasant site.

Today I saw another disconcerting site involving what I consider personal hygiene proudly displayed in front of a pharmacy, again presumably to lure those strolling by to stop and take a closer look. It was a video of a person clipping their toe nails with what I am guessing is a fabulous new device designed to clip toe nails in a way that toes have never been clipped before.

I have been here long enough to adapt to various aspects of Indonesian culture, many I am sure subconsciously. Maybe in time I will be reclining in mall stall chair having my nose hairs tweezed while a camera feeds a live video of the grooming to a large screen TV for the convenience of passer byes who might want to consider the experience.

Jakarta Beginnings: Sunda Kelapa Harbour

2006-02-19T19:51:00.000+07:00

Sunda Kelapa Harbour

The nearest most toursits ever get to Jakarta is a stopover at the airport in route to Bali. But it does have a few places tucked away here and there where the intrepid traveller or the Jakartan who simply can not stomach another trip to the mall might consider visiting. Sunda Kelapa harbour and its immediate environs is one such place. It is where the Dutch first set up shop and was a hotspot back in the days when spices of the south seas were a driving force in the burgeoning global economy. Eventually the area was abandoned by the Dutch. They moved inland to escape the disease and squalor of the low lying area. The port remained as a primary trading venue until the modern facility at TanJung Priok was built 20 kilometers away to accomodate the hulking bulks of modern day ocean going vessels. But Sunda Kelapa continues to be a vibrant port today dealing in interisland trade primarily between Jakarta, Sulawesi and Kalimantan. The centuries old traditional shipping routes are still followed and ancient methods of naviagtion practiced; the captain's deck is not equipped with modern day navigational equipment. The ships, known as bugis pinisi, are made by hand out of iron wood. Iron wood is soft when wet and thus pliable but dries into a very hard, durable wood. The schooners now use diesel engines but the sails are still in place just in case the 300 horsepower (about the size of the engines in Chevy pick up truck) engine conks out. Diesel power has cut the trip from Jakarta to Kalimantan, one of the main routes, from about a month to 3 days. The harbour is open to the public, the atmosphere is pretty laid back and it is possible to get up close and personal with the action. You can actually arrange to make the journey on a schooner through agents of the tourist department milling around the harbour. It would certainly be an interesting alternative to Bali for a long holiday weekend - sailing the south seas with the Bugis.
Two brand new Bugis Pinisi looking very pirate shippish. There were three brand new ships docked in the harbor when we visited. They take about two years to build and cost about 200,000 $ US. The ships are made in Sulawesi then sail to Sunda Kelapa harbour where they are painted before beginning their carreers. These beauties were waiting for their cosmetic makeovers.
Another view of the new ships. They can sail for 50 years before they are required by law to undergo a complete overhaul.

A view of the Bugis schooners lined up waiting for loading and unloading. The primary trade is in lumber from the islands coming to Jakarta and cement, flour, cloth and other processed items going outward. The wood is of secondary quality and is used in housing construction for frames and such. The top quality timber is exported internationally. According to one of the harbour fellows we chatted with, the stacks of lumber are quite smaller than in recent years when illegal logging in Jakarta was much more prevalent. Now most likely the illegal timber trade avoids high profile places like all together and involves more clandestine distrubution facitlites.

Low rider. Fully loaded with bags of cements and ready to make the return trip to Kalimantan. Cargoes of cement are a bit tricky due to the posibility of the cement taking on water and dramatically increasing in weight - not a good thing when riding that low. The long board strapped to the back right side (starboard stern??) of the ship is the rudder that is used if and when the boat is forced to rely on its sails for power.
Walking the gang plank with another low rider in the background.

All the loading and unloading is done by hand. The labourers live in a village nearby and work 10 hour days. They earn about 15 dollars a day - bit more if unloading cement - due to the unpleasant combo of sweat and cement dust. These guys were unloading lumber.
One man's trash is another man's treasure. A local gathering driftwood floating among the flotsam.
A purveyor of iced juice waits for a break in the action and potential customers from the cement crew.
Old school bicycle
On the other side of the harbour are larger boats. The work is done by a combination of hand labor and machines.

Down in the hold of a ship, workers unload another crane full of cement bags.

A view from the village that built up around the harbour. It is one of the oldest in Jakarta. It houses the laborers who load and unload the cargo and a community of local fisherman.

Jakarta to Lombok

2006-02-02T21:14:00.000+07:00

Scenic overlook of the south coast of Lombok. Notice all the breaks.

There are a lot of dogs in Lombok. On the hour long drive from the airport in Mataran to Kuta, I counted 52. I began my count a little more than half way into the trip because I was so impressed by how many dogs I was seeing. So the actual count of dogs that one might see on any given night driving from the capital to the south coast is around 100. These are not cuddly little lap dogs or romp about lab types – they are street dogs – scruffy, gnarly, skittish, tough and hungry. And they take the street thing very seriously. Several times, no, every time we came across a dog it was in the street and did not relinquish its real estate until the last possible moment. One time we actually lost in a heart stopping game of chicken as the dog in the street that we were baring down upon had found a particularly precious road kill and refused to budge from its claim. We were forced to swerve out of the way to avoid hitting the determined pup. I am not sure why Lombok has such a large population of dogs – Jakarta has very few – thus the silly amount of street cats.

I am reading How Soccer Explains the World a book that uses soccer as an analogy for globalization. Consider English soccer. Before the Premier League came into its own most English teams were made up of players from England with maybe some Scotts and a Welshman now and then. The advertisements adorning the field and the team kit were for English banks, lager and such. Winning the first division league title or the FA cup was the primary goal. This is no longer the case. Take Chelsea, the English Premiere League champs for example. The team roster includes a few Brits but primarily consists of players from all over the world including not only Europeans but several Africans and a few South Americans. The coach is Portuguese and the owner is a Russian oil magnate. Samsung, a Korean multinational giant, is the primary sponsor or at least the company that won the bidding war for the rights to the Chelsea jersey. In recent years Siemens (German) and Fly Emirates (United Arab Emirates) have adorned the Chelsea Blue. They play in a number of international tournaments like the Champions league and possibly the FIFA club world Championship.

This weekend I experienced another interesting example of globalization in the sports world – surfing in Lombok. I, an American from the US, staying at the Novotel, part of the French hotel giant Accor Group was picked up early in the morning by a surf guide and driver from Lombok, Indonesia driving a Japanese SUV. We drove to a small fishing village where we hopped on a small Lombok style fishing boat and after about a twenty minute boat ride arrived at the break called Grupuk. Here I was at a surf spot off the south coast of Lombok, an island barely known outside of Indonesia feeling pretty adventurous and Endless Summerish until I noticed the twenty Japanese guys bobbing up and down in the lineup. I was wearing a Dahui brand rash/sun guard made in Hawaii, and Quicksilver shorts from the US both purchased in Bali. Unfortunately I had left my board behind in Jakarta, an Australian board which I bought in south Java. But the board I was using truly represented the globalization of surfing - it was called a McBoard and had a big McDonald’s style “M” in the logo.

Another funny thing about surfing; if you don’t do it that often, you find out that all sorts of unexpected body parts are used because they hurt a lot the next day. It makes sense that your neck, shoulders, upper arms, would hurt from the paddling and that your stomach might be sore from rubbing on the board. But I forgot about my mouth hurting after not surfing for a while. Mouth? Indeed. When paddling for a wave I push down on the front of the board with my chin to force the board down. My chin has not been used as a speed boosting device for quite some time so the muscles in my jaw are rather sore. Sure do learn a lot of stuff from surfing – economic trends, anatomy ….

Lombok is advertised as the way Bali was 30 years ago. It is incredibly beautiful and has some of the most amazing beaches I have ever seen. Not to say Bali is not wonderful but certain parts of it are getting rather intense. Lombok is changing. Our driver today pointed out where the new international airport is to be built. Today it is rice fields, in a few years it will be bringing tourists from the world to discover Lombok. This is the idea – will it become Bali in 30 years time? Time will tell – and is that a good thing? Our driver certainly seemed to think so – he wants to make money. So consider checking out Lombok – just don’t get too intense.

Emmerson sporting the Gilligan look. This is the view from a new restaurant/hang out place. The owner(s)/operator(s) is/are Australian with a pretty nice piece of real estate. I can't recall the name but will post it later on. Worth checking out.

One of the many incredible beaches in Lombok - empty.

Jakarta New Year

2006-02-01T19:30:00.000+07:00

Chinese New Year in Jakarta

Emmerson is very excited about the Chinese New Year.

Emmerson telling Gracie how much she loves the Chinese New Year

A photo of Emmerson with the wayan puppet that the dahlang (pupeteer) had given to us at Alicia's 7 month pregancy ceremony last year. Alicia recently went to another all night wayan kulit show with the same dahlang and wanted to show him Emmerson posing with the puppet he had given to her.

Jakarta: In the Neighborhood

2006-01-18T20:35:00.000+07:00

This is how we dress in the neighborhood. Not really - unless you have gone native - which I've seen a few times and it is not a pretty site. Emmerson and I walking home from a sarong themed Christmas party down the street from our apartment. The next day I was wearing a parka in single digit temperature Illinois, USA.

Another American corrupted by the Germans. Emmerson and the German+ boys.

In several of the small parks in the neighborhood fruit trees grow and are tended by an old retired couple who daily make their rounds, dutifully and lovingly caring for each tree .... actually I have know idea what the fruit scene is in these parks but someone is cultivating the various fruits growing in the parks. I like to imagine its a kindly old couple.

Close up of the wrapped mangoes.

Ramadan takes its toll. A clerk "tending" to the store. I spent quite a while in Photo Shop blurring the photo so as to protect her identity; an extremely difficult process involving a complete and thorough knowledge of the intricacies of photo editing ... or maybe this is the one I took without coming to a complete stop while walking through the mall.

The street vendors come to the neighborhood. Each one has his own sound and or call which alerts the neighborhood of his presence and to come out and buy stuff.

A food vendor's kitchen.

A neighborhood roundabout. Traffic sure is different over here.

Jakarta Travels in Cambodia

2005-11-16T12:00:00.000+07:00

Some random shots of people, places and things from a recent trip to Cambodia.

People

Kids being kids on the Ton Le Sap

Victims of landmines playing traditional music outisde of the Banyon temple
Evidence of landmines were everywhere, the most disturbing being the large number of maimed people. There are many organizations in Cambodia trying to assist in this frustrating siutation. The most successful of the development programs are the ones that train and encourage the affected people to help themselves. One of the more interesting ones we experienced was a restaurant whose employees were primarily street kids and orphans. They learned the business while sharing the various duties of running the restuarant. The food was excellent and the waiters memorized all the orders. They brought me the wrong thing at first but we all laughed about it and they seemed pretty good natured about the whole thing. The place was packed out so the work crew was defintiely learning the hard way - which is often the most effective. I think the place was called the Banyan Tree and it is located in Phnom Pen across from the school turned prison by the Khmer Rouge This group of musicians performed along the trail to the Tom Pra. They accepted donations and sold CD's of their music. Very nice to stroll through the forest of the temple complex accompanied by their playing.

Lonely Planet Guy
Probably the most photgraphed old guy in Cambodia. He is on the cover of one of the editions of the Lonely Planet: Cambodia. He hangs out at the place where picture was taken along with a couple fo the Lonely Planet books, gets his picture taken and sells trinkets.

Girls Playing in Siem Reap
I snapped a shot of these two pirls playing a game which involved using chalk to mark out the various grids formed by the tiles in the sidewalk. Soon after I snapped the photo I was in the bargaining session of my life over a few postcards and some bracelets. I am not a big fan of such activity but I had nothing better to do while Alicia was pouring over every nook and cranny of some nice little shop with really special things to buy so I figured I would hang out and mess around with them. They were full on and had a very good pitch going. They asked where I was from and then told me all sorts of random facts about the US. They then started producing the vaious goods they had to sell and went to town. Finally they wore me down and I went into get money from Alicia. When I told them I had to do that they asked what my wifes name was and when we walked out of the store she was greeted with a chorus of "hello miss lisa". The next several days whenever I would see one of the girls around the streets they would smile and address me by name. I don't know what the racket is but I am sure that most of their money is turned over to a guy wearing a bad suit and see through dress socks or the Cambodian equivalent of such a uniform, which is sad. But these girls sure had some attitude and won't be easily forgotten.

Places

The entrance to the Banyon temple

One of the many giant faces of Bhudda at the Banyon

Life on the Ton Le Sap: Houseboat

Life on the Ton Le Sap: Small boat

Life on the Ton Le Sap: Small boat at sunset

Ton Le Sap sunset

Jakarta Baby

2005-11-10T09:15:00.000+07:00

Not so tiny anymore ... Emmerson is a bit bigger and a lot more mobile than my last Jakarta Baby post. These are from our recent trip to Cambodia.

Not so tiny baby in the airport

Tuktuk in Siem Reap

We hired a driver (car), Sawan, for each day we were in Siem Reap. Its relatively cheap and a good way to get from town to the various site seeing venues. Sawan was a really nice guy, very flexible and fun to talk to about things going on in Cambodia. When the Khmer Rouge were in power he was a little kid. His parents were sent away to work and he was raised by a family selected by the Khmer. I guess this was supposed to strengthen the tie to the state by weakening the link to families - another one of Pol Pots brilliant ideas.
But for getting around town a Tuktuk is the way to go. It is a carriage attached to a motorbike and is a pleasant way to travel. Many do take Tuktuks out of town and it looked pretty fun but not the best way to go with a squirmy little baby.

Emmerson and the waitress

Emmerson enjoys attention from pretty much anyone who will give it to her and the Cambodian people certainly obliged. My favorite was when we were eating at a restaurant and Emmerson began to fuss. This waitress came and took her away. She and Emmerson ended up hanging out in the back with the kitchen crew.
The food in Cambodia has some similarities to Thai - without quite as much heat, and to Vietnamese but with more of an emphasis on coconut curries. But it is unique in a variety of ways and is certainly its own cuisine. It was excellent.

Emmerson enjoying the attention

This group of monks was visiting from Korea and asked if they could get a photo with Emmerson. I snapped a few while they were posing for their friend.

With the boat guy on Ton Le Sap

Phnom Pen is attached to Siem Reap by the Ton Le Sap River and the lake by the same name. It is a rather bizarre natural situation as the river flow changes direction and the lake alternates between being a source or terminus for the river depending on the season. During the dry season the Ton le Sap River flows south towards the Mekong River and eventually into the South China Sea. In the wet season the rivers reverse direction and flow into the lake casing it to dramatically increase in size. Of course the people living on and around the lake have figured out how to take advantage of this phenomena and the area is the "rice basket" of Cambodia supplying most of the rice and fish for the country. Supposedly up to four crops of rice a year can be grown in the flood plains around the lake when the water receeds. i very much enjoy visiting the worlds natural wonders and was quite excited to finally get to see Ton Le Sap. Emmerson liked it too.

Emmerson on the boat

Not so tiny baby at Angkor Wat

At the Banyon

Sunset on Ton le Sap

Emmerson munching on a stalk of lemon grass. She seemed to like it - but then again she likes to chew on my wallet and keys as well.

Emmerson in the rice.

The rest of the pictures from our trip can be seen here Cambodia 05

Jakarta Travels

2005-11-07T22:06:00.000+07:00

Monks relaxing during a visit to the Angkor Wat complex

Last week Idul Fitri was celebrated marking the end of Ramadan; the month of fasting in the Moslem calendar. The city of Jakarta gets real mellow as the effects of the fast (and lack of sleep - the prescribed time for the first and only meal until sunset is in the wee hours of the morning) begin to set in. Also many leave the city for their hometowns and thus traffic tends to be light which makes a huge difference in Jarkata life. While a week in a mellow Jakarta was enticing we opted to venture off to Cambodia via Singapore.

Singapore is always a pleasant and orderly respite from the craziness and chaos of Jakarta. There are many who criticize Singapore as too sterile, rigid and boring and praise Jakarta because it is not, but I enjoy the change. Its the simple things like a stroll through the city on an actual sidewalk without having to worry about dodging a motorized vehicle or maneuvering in, around or over a pothole, street vendor, cat family, garbage pile, parked truck, sleeping bajaj guy, and/or a number of other random and often curious objects which do make Jakarta perpetually interesting and yet rather taxing at the same time. Actually there are very few working sidewalks in Jakarta and those that do exist tend to disappear at random and often very inopportune times. For example, a supermarket might have a very nice and completely navigable sidewalk out front but it disappears at the end of the supermarkets property depositing the walker directly onto the street to fend with the madness of Jakartan traffic - which is traumatic enough in a vehicle let alone on foot. Or perhaps the sidewalk leads the foot voyager directly to a giant muddy field or maybe into a construction zone, again both quite exciting experiences, yet perhaps not the type of thrill one is seeking while out for a simple shop. A ride on the Singapore subway is a similarly simple yet soothing experience to the Singapore sidewalk stroll. The Jakartan answer to the subway, the bus way, just doesn't cut it. Maybe when they get the monorail up and running..... if you ever need to use the idiom "pipe dream" in a sentence, here is a good one: "The planned completion of the monorail in Jakarta is a pipe dream". I like Jakarta and I like Singapore and both for what the other is not.

After Singapore we headed off to Cambodia - a wonderful country with beautiful people - and I am not just writing that because that is what you are supposed to say about the people of such countries that tend to be off the beaten track and thus hold a certain mystic. Althoug our contact was limited in time and place, the people we met were incredibly helpful, genuinely friendly and simply pleasant to be around. Perhaps they are just happy to be rid of the horrors of their recent past and glad to see people from the rest of the world again or maybe it is just they way they are - anyway it was a special week.

The places we went are the typical things most tourists due - the temple tours, a visit to the Ton Le Sap (big lake), sites from the Pol Pot and Khmer Rouge nightmare. I think these were experiences that are represented well through images - so I am going to post a few from the bunch we took. One bit of advice - if you are planning on visiting Cambodia and have a rather detailed, busy and time sensitive itinerary, and have a baby who is just starting to crawl and is making up for months of immobiltity by trying to move around as much as babily possible - DO NOT miss the last plane of the day flying into the Cambodian city of your primary destination - it can really set in motion one serious butterfly effect. Some day, after time allows the mellowing mechanism of my brain to work its magic, I will see the experience as a funny little travel tale ... some day.

Cambodia: Temple Complexes

Ta Prohm entrance way

Ta Prohm - a tree flowing over the temple wall

Angkor Wat

A secondary building at the Angkor Wat complex

Emmerson making friends with some monks visiting from Korea

Jakarta Traffic

2005-09-18T11:55:00.000+07:00

Bajaj driver relaxing a bit before getting into the action

My Jakarta clean driving record went up in a giant puff of diesel exhaust the other day. I managed to get in three fender benders in about 20 minutes. My first one occurred when I refused to yield my position to the scourge of Jakarta roads, the public transport minivans. We began "the dance" properly enough. But it soon became evident that this merge was not going to end well as the minivanguy continued to pull into my lane and I continued to not yield. Laws of physics took over "when two moving objects attempt to occupy the same space ...." and the side of his car hit my front side bumper. The driver stopped and looked menacingly at me. I threw up my hands and did other stupid angry guy stuff. He then pulled over and checked the side of his vehicle for damage - of which there was about a 5 years worth of un-repaired fender benders. I got out of my car grumping and growling. He eventually conceded that the bump did no new damage to his vehicle and after a bit of drama scurried off to try someone elses patience. It was stupid all around - but these vehicles are one aspect of Jakarta traffic that I have not yet come to terms with.

Frazzled and rattled I carried on with my afternoon ritual. This involves driving to a few places all within less than a mile radius but takes a ridiculous amount of time because Jakarta traffic is stupider than guys when they get angry. My next annoyance occurred while I was dealing with the guards at the security stop for the neighborhood where our exercise club is located. I go here almost everyday and the guys act like they have never seen me before - actually I go through several times a day because I take Alicia there, leave and go hang out with Emmerson and then return to pick her up, exit and then enter yet again to go workout myself. This particular time they had some new thing where they actually made me present identification - the first time in two years. I found my wallet that was buried in my gym bag, and pulled out various cards for them to peruse. They saw my club member card and asked me why I didn’t have a sticker for my car. I told them because I was never issued one. This seemed to satisfy their desire to seem secure and they waved me through. As I was fumbling around with various papers, cards and my wallet, I took my foot off the brake to go forward. What I did not realize was that my car was in neutral and perched up a bit on the speed bump that they have at the security check. When I took my foot off the brake the car lurched backward into a motor scooter that was positioned about two inches off my back fender (space is a very relative concept). I stopped to survey the damage. The guy on the scooter was not concerned at all because nothing had happened to his scooter. But the security guys were trying to convince him otherwise - perhaps indicating “hey this is a grand opportunity for you to work this guy for some cash” - which indeed it was. They kept shaking various lose items on his bike implying that I was to blame - that most of the things they were fiddling with were moveable parts was irrelevant. The scooter guy just waved me on and I proceeded humbly on my way.

Dejected and disheartened I pulled into the downstairs parking lot at the club, drove to the spot where I typically park and began my pulling in ritual – which I have done hundreds of time without incident. But this was a special evening for me, and my car came to a sudden halt accompanied by an unpleasant crunching sound. I had miscalculated my turn and my bumper had crunched into the parking pillar.

Fortunately the guy who had the car before me decked out all the bumpers with reinforcement material so no physical damage was done, unfortunately I can not say the same for my emotional and psychological state. Jakarta traffic claims another victim.

Emmerson dealing with Jakarta traffic

Summer Expedition

2005-09-11T19:07:00.000+07:00

Base Camp - Freeport, Illinois at Mom and Dad Collin: Ross and Emmerson sporting her new "Sweet Child O' Mine" suit.

A little out of sync here with the posts but we were a little slow getting the pictures of our summer travels and visits ready. It's great living in Indo but is always a joy going home. The States is a pretty nice place. We set up base camp in Freeport, Illinois at Mom and Dad Collins. From there we made various excursions including trips to Indiana and Wisconsin. Alicia's relatives, Grandma Dorothy and Bill, graciously lent us their car; an Olds Delta 88 forged sometime back in the 80's. It was one of those great American cruising cars that seems to float down the highway. We also made a week long journey out to Colorado to visit more family and friends in the Denver area. This was Emmerson's debut in the States so I would typically say hi, present Emmerson and relegate myself to the background. It was great to see her interacting with all her cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, and new friends.

Base camp fun: Emmerson enjoying her first swing at the famous Krape Park. It has a really old carousel, duck feeding, frisby golf course, running trails, swan paddle boats, and the name iself is an anogram to boot! We all enjoyed Krape Park very much.

Base Camp: An evening at the park with Grandma and Grandpa.

The Wisconsin Excursion: We have several friends and a few family members in the Madison area. It was fun driving there in our borrowed highway cruiser through the rolling hills of northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin. Quite the difference from Indo driving. This was at the cow shed. The state fair livestock competitions are serious business. This hefty heifer was getting her measurements taken for the "pageant" - a curvy 483-536-462.

Emmerson wasn't quite sure what to make of the food court at the fair. I think the reality that they deep fry cheese curds and snickers bars blew her mind -or maybe it was just Shelly.

Emmerson's first cow.

Solo Excursion: I went to Indiana to visit the Duell clan. The Indiana Duell's have all returned to the area where they grew up and are fruitful and multiplying. Alicia, Mom Collin and Emmerson drove me half way and met my Aunt, Carrie and Maddy. This was taken at Grandma Sally's, a very fine breakfast eatery in Wheaton where we did the meet and swap.

Nate, Kara and kids took me to the airport where we met Alicia and Emmerson and introduced the little ones to eachother. Then it was off to Colorado.

The Colorado Excursion: Emmerson's first experience with cold up in the Colorado Rockies. She flapped her arms and legs a lot and kept trying to taste the wind with her tongue.

Another scenic view from our drive up into the Rockies with Ardis, the kids and Nana Duell.

Emmerson with Papa Duell

Emmerson very excited about being baptized.

Emmerson with the Colorado kids.

Our reunion with friends from our days in Honduras who are all from the Denver area.

Return to Base Camp: Back in Freeport, Emmerson bonding with Oscar the giant cat.

Jakarta Travel

2005-08-22T10:53:00.000+07:00

Traveling in style. Emmerson in her fancy airplane bed somewhere over the Pacific.

We figured our travel time, door to door from Freeport, Illinois to Jakarta, Indonesia, was about 43 hours. There once was a time when I rather enjoyed long journeys especially if it involved airline travel; food, read, movie, sleep - repeat. Not a bad way to spend a day or two. But this was back in the footloose and baby free days. Emmerson is 6 months old today. She is quite a good traveler and has flown maybe 15 some odd times but the potential is always there for a mid-air major blow out. Air travel is particularly difficult with a little one. It’s not like you’re in a theater or restaurant and can step outside and go for a calming walk at 23,000 feet. Once airborne all you can do is hope for the best. I have become that disheveled looking guy clunking his way down the aisle laden with various unruly overflowing carry-ons, wet wipes bulging from the shirt pocket, blanket over the shoulder, spare binkies clipped here and there, a Mr. Banannaman dangling precariously from a diaper bag side pocket and one, wild-eyed, sleep-deprived, drooling baby that everyone desperately hopes does not sit anywhere near their seat. Needless to say my fondness for long distance travel has changed some.

We disembarked or is it embarked (does anyone ever accurately complete those arrival/departure cards? I fill them out differently every time and have never been questioned by immigration) from Chicago and just to mix things up a bit left from Midway, O'Hare's lesser known little sister. That leg of the trip was much less eventful than our first time we left from Chicago for Jakarta a few years back when we drove through one of the worst thunderstorms I have ever witnessed. It included torrential rain and intermittent periods of hale that had cars scurrying for any overhead protection they could find. Our luggage was on the roof rack and thus we began our epic journey with several dripping wet bags. I’m sure the baggage checkers loved rummaging through that mess. This time around the weather was fine. We arrived in LAX around 5 p.m. and hunkered down for an 8 hour layover. LAX is quite the scene. It is one of the worst international terminals I have experienced; rather ironic since it is a primary point of entry for visitors to the US. One might think the city of LA would construct a showcase airport, designed to energize and excite expectant visitors and see off those leaving with a heartfelt, good ole American “Y’all come back now, you hear?” or at least a Hollywoodesque "See you at the Movies" or "Keep Reaching for the Stars". Instead the message one gets is “don’t bother me and while you’re at it go home” which is maybe the sentiment many in California have these days…. I liken the international part of LAX to a cattle yard except a bit more depressing. Everyone mills around the huge central area looking befuddled, anxious and a bit scared. Various surly airline "cowboys" herd the passengers into the correct (sometimes) "corral" where they wait for their fate to be determined:

Traveler: “Hi, we would like bulkhead seats and our bags to be checked through to our final destination if possible.”
Airline Person: “You need to pass your bags through security before you get your boarding pass – see that line over there with 5000 people in it, you need to go there and have your bags checked, then you can come back here and check in.”
Traveler: “But I have already waited an hour in this check-in-line to get my boarding pass and check in our luggage!”
Airline Person: “Didn’t you see that sign over there at the entrance to the check-in-lines concerning baggage security?”
Traveler: “Oh you mean the sign that the construction guys digging up the floor have hung their jackets over?”
Airline Person: “Yes that’s the one. Have a nice day.”

Throw in various LA oddballs, dramatic Latin goodbyes, security guys with machine guns, peddlers, people sleeping in corners here and there and it makes for a pretty interesting scene, unless you are in the midst of it with a small child - then it is rather tedious.

Fortunately my brother Eric and his family live in the area and met us for dinner and a visit. Emmerson was wired out of her gourd. It was well into her sleeping time but so much was going on that she did not know what to do. She was wide eyed and appendage flapping the entire time. My two nieces, Erica and Ashley, loved Emmerson in this mode and kept her occupied. Xiamara, my sister in law from El Salvador, and Alicia commiserated over the difficulties of living overseas and saying goodbye to family. Eric fulfilled his elderly brother duties and made fun of me for what I was to experience in the next day or so.

My brothers family at LAX with one very wired baby.

The flight from LA to Taipei was not full so everyone was able to spread out and we had two empty seats beside us in the middle bulkhead section. Emmerson slept in a wall mounted bassinet for most of that leg of the journey. In the a.m. of that flight an elderly Vietnamese women came and sat beside us and became Emmerson’s surrogate grandma. She held Emmerson for a bit and then gave us all sorts of advice on how to keep her happy. She also informed us that we should give Emmerson lots of water or she would not grow hair. Emmerson is still pretty bald so I hooked her up to a water bottle as soon as we arrived home. The rest of the trip was without incident and we took some video footage of Emmerson in the various airports.

Making friends

Chang Kai Chek International in Taipei is a rather strait forward, no frills type of airport. They pleasantly warn visitors via various signs that the death penalty awaits those involved in drug trafficking in Taiwan – and have a nice day. Kuala Lumpur airport is quite modern, very clean and nice to hang out in. That you are in a Moslem country is evidenced by; the high number of women sporting black, head to toe burqas along with really expensive designer sun glasses and high fashion shoes; the conveniently placed prayer rooms; and the outrageous price of beer. Not only the women were shrouded this time around in KL, but the entire city was covered in a mysterious fog. It just so happened that our arrival coincided with a curious environmental situation that would eventually escalate into what the Malaysian government has deemed a national emergency. Smoke from fires in Sumatra were blowing across the Straits of Malacca and engulfing peninsular Malaysia in a lung busting haze.

Finally we landed in Soekarno – Hatta International Airport, where we met Samsun, our friends the Wilsons’ driver and were whisked away through Jakarta’s own locally produced lung busting haze. It was incredibly difficult to leave friends and family in the States but after two car-rides, five airports, one monorail, three airplanes, five airline meals, and 43 hours it was finally good to be home.

Jakarta Mall

2005-05-31T14:28:00.000+07:00

A palm tree gateway in the atrium welcomes Jakartans to the mall Kelapa Gading

The Mall is a major part of life for many Jakartans. Within a five minute drive from my house we have two full on multi level, movie complexed, food courted, sports clubbed, department store bound, mega malls; Mall Kelapa Gading and Mal Artha Gading. Across the street from my apartment is a third named the Sport Mall, where, according to the billboard advertisement, “Shopping is Sport”. Included in this mall is an indoor arena that can seat several thousand and the “Sports Bar” which takes up a good portion of the second level of the complex. Connected to Mall Kelapa Gading or MKG as it is affectionately called by the locals who consider it their mall, is a condominium complex under construction. It is being advertised as a “one stop living experience”. I am sure many a Jakartan gets dreamy eyed when imagining such an existence. When I first moved to Jakarta I dreaded the mall and made a point of avoiding going there. It just seemed wrong to be living in such an exotic locale as Indonesia and hanging out in a mall. It did not take long for this sentiment to be purged from my extra sensitive culturally aware new guy in a foreign country psyche and I soon started frequenting the mall like everyone else in Jakarta. The degree to which the mall has made itself a part of life here in Jakarta was evidenced by a statement made recently by one of my students. For our class trip we went to an UNESCO World Heritage site called Ujung Kulon. It is located on the western edge of Java, accessible only by boat and is a very remote, protected and pristine environment. No one lives there accept the rangers and the fishermen who ply their trade in the area’s waterways. My student asked if there would be a mall there. I said yes, sarcastically. She then inquired how much money she should bring for the Ujung Kulon Mall.

One of the more interesting aspects of the malls here, or at least our mall here in Kelapa Gading, is the booths they set up in the middle of the mall. They are used to advertise new products or occupied periodically by the mall nomads who make the circuit hocking their wares in the various malls of Jakarta. Many of these kiosk people tend to be rather aggressive, especially the massage equipment sellers. They often lunge out at unsuspecting passersby with some scary hand held massage device rotating and gyrating madly and make serious attempts to apply the thing to your back or some other muscle bound area. Most mall goers don’t seem fazed by this treatment and actually stop for a bit of a rub down. I make good use of my people avoidance skills; get my speed walk on, do the eye contact aversion gaze and scurry on by.

A massage store guy wielding a hand held massage device looks for a potential customer

Some of the kiosks offer services that are frightfully painful, not necessarily to the receiver but to the unfortunate soul who manages to catch a glimpse of what is taking place. Alicia once saw a scary hand held massage device salesperson giving a full on (and fully visible) upper butt crack massage to a middle aged man who did not seem the least bit concerned about this public display. Another time I saw a woman in a medical looking outfit holding some high tech device. She was showing a possible client something on a portable TV while another very curious individual looked on intently. My curiosity got the best of me and I discreetly ducked over to get a better look at this unusual display; a very bad decision on my part. The high tech device was a super powered camera that was used to take close-ups of your scalp, focusing especially on the area around the hair follicles. This is not something you want to see – maybe your own scalp at the doctors or something – but definitely not some old guy’s nasty head at the mall. While the patron and onlooker where staring intently at the giant hair follicle on the screen the medical looking lady was excitedly telling him all about the damaged area and how it can cause hair loss and what magical follicle cleaning device she had to help him and his horrible looking head. After this I was feeling really stressed. I think the crazy massage device guy could sense this as he positioned himself in my path, waving the crazy device with a bit of a mad glint in his eye. I did a putar balik or a U-turn (another whole story in those two very innocent looking Indo words), avoided the guy all together and called it a day.

So if you are ever in Jakarta and want to experience a bit of the city, forget Jalan Jaksa and the Monas; hail a taxi and get to a mall.

Jakarta Baby

2005-03-11T17:20:00.000+07:00

Tiny Baby at a Big Temple

Tiny Baby in a Big Bed

Tiny Baby in the Bamboo

Tiny Baby in Bali

Tiny Baby with the Band

Tiny Baby in the Monkey Forest

Tiny Baby

The baby I have been involved in having made her debut early in the a.m. on Sunday, February 28th. The details of Emmerson Corinne's premier can be read here if curious about such an experience.

Further Adventures of Pixie the Roof Cat

2005-01-26T11:24:00.000+07:00

“I think your cat just fell through the ceiling of my classroom”. Not a comment you hear everyday, especially while at school and certainly not what I expected to hear when the music teacher walked through my door. I went to investigate and sure enough, there was Pixie being consoled by the admissions director who, fortunately, is one of the main violators of the “no cats on campus” rule that exists at school (see “Pixie the Roof Cat” post from Saturday, October 16, 2004 for more details). She was quite freaked out, Pixie, not the administrator, but was otherwise unharmed. Apparently, Pixie has found a way to get into the crawl space between the hung ceilings and the actual roof of the buildings here at campus and today ventured onto a ceiling tile that could not hold her weight (perhaps she needs to go back to life on the streets for a bit and regain her svelte figure). The music teacher heard a loud crash in the practice room and went to see what was responsible for the disturbance. Imagine his surprise when he saw Pixie standing on the floor amongst various percussion instruments. All involved are fine, just a bit shaken up, especially the music teacher. Hopefully, Pixie has learned a lesson and will curtail her rooftop activities to less precarious situations.

Jakarta vs Singapore

2005-01-17T11:34:00.000+07:00

New Years Eve in Singapore

I’m involved in having a baby (I was scolded the other day when I used “we” when referring to some aspect of the pregnancy – as I am certainly not with child). Involvement in having a baby includes lots of shopping. I was not aware of this. Fortunately, according to certain persons’ qualified to make such an assessment, Jakarta does not have good, yet cheap baby products; actually I believe “cute” not "good" was the descriptive term used. Thus my involvement in baby shopping in Jakarta has been limited. Unfortunately, Singapore does have cute and cheap baby stuff. The last few days of Christmas holidays I spent a lot of time in stores I never knew existed shopping for items I have never imagined. Once while looking for a diaper bag I asked what is required of a bag to be deemed diaper worthy – actually I don’t think that wording would have gone over well – but I was quite curious about the characteristic of such a bag and inquired. I received an exasperated look and a sigh that showed true sympathy for my ignorance followed by a detailed account of all the characteristics necessary to qualify a container as a truly proper diaper bag. I thought that a left over plastic supermarket bag would do the trick but I also imagined the versatile shopping bag would make quite a nice baby carrier as well – put a bit of padding in the bottom, perhaps double up the bags for some security and you’re good to go.

While we were in our 4th store (Singapore has 100s, perhaps 1000s of stores devoted to things baby all within a ridiculously concentrated area) and again unable to find the proper bag, I pointed to what I thought appeared to be the elusive item. I was given a sympathetic look and informed that it was a portable baby sun shade. Oh. I retreated into a corner and became as much a part of the background as possible. I noticed that I was not alone.

When you walk into a baby store the difference between men and women becomes glaringly obvious. As a kid I was asked how I knew the difference between men and women and responded that men have furry legs. Well observing men and women in a baby store would be just as telling. Women buzz with energy and coo over little baby size Santa outfits, pint sized overalls, mini French berets and "classic" (important) Winnie the Pooh pajamas. Men stand in out of the way corners and coves, slightly slouched, staring glassy eyed into space, clutching their wallets with one hand and previously purchased baby products with the other.

So one crib, crib mattress, crib mattress cover, changing shelf thing, blue bucket that attaches to the changing shelf thing, Fischer Price development enhancing vibrating chair and lots of adorable clothes later, (the elusive proper diaper bag managed to evade our persistent search, to be hunted another day) I shouldered our loot, looking like an urban Sherpa and stumbled, exhausted back to our hotel.

People always brag about the advantages of Singapore over other Asian cities. Well I have finally come up with an advantage Jakarta has over the City of Lions; few good baby stores.

Jakarta Baby

2005-01-17T11:23:00.000+07:00

My wife was scolded the other day at the gym by a very concerned, spandex bedecked, Indonesian matron. I was running on the tread mill and Alicia went to grab some weights when the concerned matron asked Alicia with alarm in her voice, what exactly she thought she was doing working out in her condition(eight months pregnant). Alicia commented that it was good, grabbed her weights and made her way over to the exercise balls that she likes to roll around on. Supposedly in Indonesia, women in their later months of pregnancy are not expected to do much and certainly not hit the weight room. The lady communicated her concern to several other patrons, who did not seem to share the same level of distress. Un-phased by this lack of concern by her compatriots, she kept up a diligent watch while continuing her workout, perhaps expecting Alicia to give birth while rolling about on the giant ball. The scene certainly made the tedious time on the treadmill pass quickly and for that I was thankful for the paranoid patron’s vigilance.

Jakarta Christmas

2004-12-16T09:32:00.000+07:00

Bali, Indonesia Tropical Sunset: Merry Christmas

Pelabuhanratu, Indonesia Quiet Cove: Happy New Year

We live in a gated community here in Jakarta. Security guards check cars in and out of the development. The other day one of the guards was wearing a full on Santa suit complete with hat and beard. It is now being enthusiastically passed among the guards so every shift has one of the guys dressed as Santa. Great outfit for the tropics.

Yesterday as I was out and about in Jakarta traffic Christmas shopping I came across one of the toll road traffic vendors selling a curious item. At times, actually most of the time, actually all the time, certain parts of the toll road come to a standstill. Vendors wander through the lines of cars hawking various products - mostly food - but every once in a while other wares are available. Perhaps it is the Christmas season but yesterday there seemed to be an inordinate number of non food items making there way through the traffic. There was globe guy and music man but it was the fellow selling blow up animals that caught my attention. He had a giant inflated penguin with the word "dolphin" emblazoned across its side. If traffic had not started up again someone would have been getting a very cool Christmas present.

I am off to Malaysia and Singapore for holiday. Merry Christmas.

"Fun with Language"

2004-12-11T14:13:00.000+07:00

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Somewhere in Sulawesi Menu

English sure is hard.

Like to see one of those exotic food hunter guys tackle one of these.

Anthony Bourdain - you out there??

Iron Chef - "and the secret ingredient is ...."

"A House Warming Party"

2004-12-09T13:16:00.000+07:00

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi "Proud Owner of a New House"
Matriarch of the Family Enjoying Tobacco and Betel Nut

“Well hello darling, so good of you to come.”

“Wonderful to see you. Such a lovely new house. And look at you! I love what you’ve done to your hair”.

“Oh you’re too kind. Thanks ever so much for the pig – she is so big and fat ...”

“That little thing ... it was the least I could do”.

“Well enough chit chat ... where are my manners. .... You must be exhausted from your trip. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable under the house and I’ll see about some refreshments”.

“Why thank you.”

“Well I do believe your pig is up” a horrific squeal reverberates around the compound. “Oh my but isn’t she a squealer. I’ll have your half brought around proper ... and just between you and me I’ll make sure they throw in the head because you are such a sweet thing!”

“You are such a dear.”

“OK then, ta, ta, enjoy!”

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi "House Warming" Party

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi "House Warming" Party

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi No More Going to the Market for this Gal

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Pork Rinds

When a new house is finished in Toraja the extended family all comes around for a proper house warming party. It does not have the same level of importance as a funeral so only one buffalo is typically involved. And from the looks of the severed parts we saw displayed in the central courtyard, it was a young one. House warming parties are a pig affair which makes them quite lively as pigs are a bit more ornery than the pampered, spoiled and thus rather content buffalo. Family members (of which there might be 100’s) bring pigs as gifts to the family hosting the soire`. The pig’s throats are stuck with a long knife and a bamboo flask is administered in such a way as to catch all the blood making sure the area remains relatively clean. It is then gutted and dragged off to one of the many hair removal fires where its coarse bristles are burnt off so the pork rinds aren’t all hairy. The charred carcass is returned to the killing field where guys with big really sharp knives make quick work of the pig creating spare ribs, ham hocks, pork heads and the like. The meat is then distributed among the participating guests. All this is done in the central courtyard of the family complex and definitely makes for quite a festive atmosphere.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Fresh Pig

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Pig Head and Owner

Certain big fat pigs require a bit more ceremony. They are ornately decorated and carried in on one of those things they used to cart Roman Caesars around on and put on display in the central courtyard. This is as far as ceremony goes for pigs. After a while they are dumped off their Roman Caesar thing, stuck with the knife, gutted, burned, butchered and distribute. This goes on for quite some time.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Fancy Pig

The tax collector sits in an honored seat on a platform extending from the new house and publicly declares the tax for each pig killed. We heard it was about 1.3 million rupiah (about 150$ US) a pig, not cheap. Again all of this plays an important role in Torajan economics.

There were no tall, white, sweaty people around other than our crew and we were made to feel very welcome. I was more often than not met with a curious look, a smile and simple chit chat. We probably just added a bit more to the event – “Visitors from wherever – right on! – Kill another pig!”

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi House Party with Matriarch Family and Friends

After getting an eye, ear and camera full we hunkered down with one of the matriarchs, had a chew of betel nut, chatted, gave our thanks for the festivities and said our goodbyes.

So if you are ever invited to a Torajan house warming party forget about tea and scones – think back yard barbecue on steroids .... Wonder what a Torajan baby shower is like?

"Pigs, Buffalo, and Banjos”

2004-12-08T13:58:00.000+07:00

I have heard of “smellovision” referenced by various TV travel show jocks as a technology necessary to truly appreciate certain experiences such as the tasting of a ripe durian fruit or the assault on the olfactory system when shrimp paste hits a hot wok. But at the livestock mart in Toraja sound is the requisite stimuli. There is not much in nature that can match the squeal of an upset pig as far as having an unpleasant effect on the intricately wired human aural system – other than of course the scream of a three month old baby on a 13 hour trans Pacific airline flight when you are stuck in the middle seat between the baby and a really big guy asleep – on your shoulder. Mozart would have been puking his brains out. His aural system was super acute so bad sounds made him hurl. As the pigs howled and screamed I could not stop my mind from conjuring up the surreal image of a mustached, pre-toupee, furry chested Burt Reynolds mucking about the woods of some forgotten, Appalachian, hillbilly, hellhole accompanied by the ever so disturbing “Dueling Banjos” played really, really fast – shudder. If you have no idea what I am talking about, consider yourself fortunate that you did not grow up in the US and like many other unsuspecting bored high school boys, venture out on a random Saturday night in the 1980’s and make the fateful decision to rent the seemingly innocuous guy flick called “Deliverance” – shudder.

It is definitely better to be a kerbau (water buffalo) than a babi (squealing pig) here in Toraja land. Both eventually meet the same fate but arrive there – quite literally – in a very different manner. Large numbers of pigs are trussed up with twine to bamboo poles and carried, squealing madly, to various festivals where they are rather quickly dispatched, butchered and distributed to the attending guests. Buffalo on the other hand live a rather carefree existence, tended to by a doting keeper and reserved for the most important of Torajan ceremonies, the funeral. For a funeral, buffalo are elaborately dressed and paraded around the grounds with much pomp and circumstance until eventually they too are dispatched, butchered and distributed to the attending guests.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Albino Buffalo - Market

Torajan economy is traditionally based on the buffalo. Its worth is determined by typical standards such as size, health, strength and also the Torajan fondness for huge horns and bovine albinism. Buffalo are a traditional investment option for Torajans. They are the primary commodity in a very interesting futures market. Here's how it works. You go to the buffalo market and purchases a cute little buffalo with good potential for lets say 3 million rupiah. The buffalo becomes yours but you do not ride home with the buffalo in tow. Your buffalo is left with a hired keeper who will tend to your investment. After lets say three years, you decide to make due on your investment. The keeper brings your buffalo to the market and you sell it for 11 million. You split the 6 million profits with the keeper and walk home with a cool 3 mill burning a hole in your sarong.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Little Kid Little Buffalo

But there exists a bit of a cultural twist concerning when you sell a buffalo. Mature buffs are primarily only bought and sold for funeral services which, much like weddings in the States, can be quite a debilitating factor in Torajan family economics. Some families extend their credit to the max in order to acquire lots of mature buffs with big horns and bovine albinism to put on a good funeral show for their extended family (which often number in the 100’s) and friends. An average funeral typically consists of a couple buffs and heaps of trussed up squealing pigs and a wealthy family might have as many as 50 - 100 bedazzled buffs lumbering around the funeral grounds for several days. In addition to the animals, a funeral, which typically lasts for four days, includes singers, dancers, lots of treats, tuac (local palm wine), and an actual set built specifically for the funeral ceremony consisting of several buildings for the guests to lounge about in during the festivities. After several years of tender love and care, including daily mud baths and hand washings, the buffs are adorned in colorful outfits, paraded to the funeral grounds and sacrificed amidst plenty of ceremony and celebrations.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Fancy Big Buffalo, Big Horns off to Funeral

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi House With Buffalo Horns

While the festivities progress over the days, trussed up swine at random times are carried into the funeral set and plopped down in the makeshift courtyard where they remain squealing wildly among the guests. Remarkably, the guests seem oblivious to the pigs desperate squeals – all except those few unfortunate visitors from afar with visions of slack jawed yocals playing “Dueling Banjos” wedged in their heads.

"The Day of a Thousand Pictures II" Sulawesi Travels #5

2004-12-08T13:53:00.000+07:00

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Buffalo Market

It is day three of the photo orgy and it shows no signs of slowing down. The buffalo market was wonderful. All sorts of buffalos proudly displayed by their keepers filled several acres. Trucks hustled here and there to drop off or pick up their quarry. Across the road things were not quite as genteel. The sound emanating from the area indicated that things were not all that nice over in pig land. Pigs are not laid back, content and regal like the water buffaloes but do make for a good barbecue. Due to their rather roguish personality and tastiness they were trussed up by the hundreds waiting to be bought and carried off to become dinner at a funeral feast. They did not like being trussed up or carried or haggled over and communicated this fact by making one of the more horrific sounds existing in the natural world. It was fascinating.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Trussed Up Pigs

Finally I dragged myself away from the market and was whisked off to a funeral. Interestingly enough foreigners are welcome guests at Torajan funerals and are typically made to feel quite welcome by the host. In turn we bought a carton of smokes, a typical foreign person gift for the host. Several hours and huge amounts of photos later we left the funeral and one of the more interesting events I have ever experience.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Funeral Procession

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Funeral Procession

The following day we took a walk from the hillside hotel where we spent the night through several villages with houses built in the traditional Torajan architectural style. Our walk ended at another funeral celebration. This one was not in and around the family compound of the deceased like the previous days’ but was in a place set apart specifically for funerals. The seating pavilions surrounded a central area where a bunch of monoliths had been erected representing the dead who had funerals at this place. In the midst of the monoliths was a raised platform/tree house like structure. From its four corners were hanging the legs of a recently slaughtered buffalo. In the middle of the platform was the buffalo head. A guy with an axe went at it for several minutes hacking away the horns which would be added to the others displayed at the family house of the deceased. We hung out and were brought tea and treats and were given a bamboo container full of tuac or palm wine to pass around. Then the daughter of the deceased who was hosting the shindig came and hung out with us for a bit. We gave her the box of smokes and made small talk for a while until the guests of honor were ushered in. This part was premised by four guys lugging in an enormous pig all trussed up and squealing away.

The next day we ventured out to see the rock cliffs where the people are buried. Effigies in the likeness of the deceased are placed outside the tombs on little balconies high up on the cliffs. Many of the effigies were stolen and sold to Dutch tourists long ago. But some originals do remain. A bunch of pictures later we went to an old cave which once served as a burial chamber. It was chok - a - blok full of skulls and really old coffins. My vacation has so far revolved around people in Toraja who have died. That’s rather odd.

Anthropologists say that the Torajan houses are built in their unique shape because they originally came from across the sea. Thus they built their houses in the shape of boats. The Torajans say they have always been in Toraja land and that their houses resemble buffalo horns because they are cool. My Intro to Anthropology teacher in college gave me a B- on a project I worked my butt off on(and actually froze my butt off on - begging in the dead of winter in a commuter burb of Chicago). I'm going with the "because its cool" explanation.

“The Day of a Thousand Pictures” Sulawesi Travel's #4

2004-12-07T13:44:00.000+07:00

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Terraced Rice Fields

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Fancy Buffalo

Not quite a thousand and actually two days worth of digital capturing ended yesterday evening. We are in Toraja land and have experienced a variety of things that are truly remarkable. I started snapping with the water buffalo, entered “the zone” when we joined in the funeral festivities and stayed there for the remainder of the day and into the next morning and afternoon and evening... thus the “thousand” pictures. Everywhere you look in Toraja Land another “got to get a picture of that” is staring you in the face.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Custom Trimming a Cows Head

We began our day at the pasar which was rather typical, if such a word can ever be used to adequately characterize a third world market. Old women with red stained mouths and sun wizened, life in the fields faces munch down the profit margin from their stash of betel nuts for sale. A mom and child casually watch as the butcher “chops to order” the recently peeled cow’s head to the specifications requested by the woman for some evening culinary concoction. All this among the more mundane sales of Cleveland Indian World Champion t- shirts, Levii jean jackets, eels writhing about in buckets, hockey puck shaped disks of tobacco, pungent fish oil balls ... Whatever you want (or don’t want or don’t even want to imagine someone else wanting) is available for a price. But the real action was going on across the street at the “live” market where stately water buffalo lazed about and trussed up, stressed out pigs squealed away while cool talking, clove smoking Torajan men negotiated their eventual fate.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Trussed Up Pigs

"Tana Toraja" Sulawesi Travels #3

2004-12-07T13:36:00.000+07:00

We left Makasar for the area of Tana Toraja which is a relatively famous cultural area on the island of Sulawesi ... for those who pay attention to world cultural places. We piled into a van, stopped along the way at a well known outdoor recreation area, the main attraction being a waterfall and river flowing through vertical limestone cliffs replete with stalactites and mites dangling ominously overhead. The best thing about this place was the giant concrete monkey guarding the entrance way. It was about 50 feet tall, frozen in a garish dance pose and grimacing menacingly at all the people entering below.

I am presently sitting at breakfast in a town where we spent the night about half way to Toraja, drinking coffee and wondering if I can wear shorts today. We are in a particularly Muslim area and showing my sexy legs might cause a bit of a to do. The town we’re in has the largest mosque in east Indonesia ... it is small town and a super big mosque ... might just cover my arms as well ... and wrap Alicia up in a blanket.

“Blissfully Ignorant Dive Guy” Sulawesi Travels #2

2004-11-27T13:29:00.000+07:00

Image: Diving In Sulawesi; Volcanic Island "Manado Tua" - Old Manado

I went diving yesterday which was an interesting venture on a variety of levels. The reef wall was not far off shore winding its way between the fresh water challenged island of Bunaken and Manado Tua, a perfectly cone shaped volcanic island. All the dives I have done in the past have been on the cautious side as far as mandatory gear checks, safety rules and regulations, certification documentation and the like. And rightly so as the risks of diving, most notably drowning in a wide array of interesting ways, are quite extreme. Our dive guy said he would check our certification later – and this was only after we asked if he needed them for insurance purposes or whatever. He said he would check them when we returned – which he never did. As we were pulling away from shore to go to the reef we noticed that the dive guy had not included a tank for himself. We had to do our own pre-dive checks – unprompted. And it was a good thing we bothered because when I went to inflate my BCD the air flow valve was stuck open and the vest inflated obscenely. I felt like I was a character in some ultra violent kids cartoon show about to explode only to rematerialize in some other even more grizzly scene involving our Key Stone Copesque dive crew. One of the characters came over and fiddled about with the valve and “fixed” the problem. No big deal except that I had lost a good bit of the air in my tank. A simple backward flop over the side and I was in the bath like waters of the Celebes Sea.

My descent was not without a bit of drama. I was attempting to adjust the pressure in my head while trying to remember all the things I was supposed to remember and trying to keep up with the instructor who was speeding off towards the reef like Tom Hanks in hot pursuit of Daryl Hannah in a mermaid suit. All this while trying to staunch the steady flow of water that was seeping into my mask - I always seem to select a faulty mask, or maybe my face is the problem. Eventually things began to settle down and we began to casually drift with the current along the brilliantly vibrant corral wall ... peace and tranquility ... until part of my mouthpiece broke and I desperately tried to reposition the respirator so I could continue to breath without holding the thing in my mouth. This happened just as our dive guy began gesticulating wildly the symbol for what I vaguely remembered was to indicate a shark. I peered in the direction he gestured towards and caught a glimpse of its silver body slinking along the sand at the bottom of the reef thinking bad ass shark stuff. Then the show really began as I managed to clear my mask, get a good grip on the mouthpiece with my teeth and relaxed a bit more. Rico the dive guy made the turtle sign as a giant cruised by only meters off the reef. I had only seen a few turtles on dives in the passed and none this large or this close so was quite excited. After the turtle siting, I took a peek at my depth and air supply gauges; 30 meters and already half of my air gone after about ten minutes due to the BCD inflating cartoon episode. I did not gesticulate this fact to Rico and he never did gesticulate to inquire.

Things settled down again and we began to peruse the reef wall. Again, Rico began clanging his tank and shaking his attention getting shaker device (usually a dive guy or girl will bang their tank with some sort of metal object – a SCUBA knife usually makes a good clanker and looks cool – some opt for a large heavy duty rubber band that has a plastic ball in the middle of it placed around their tank – when they “poing” the rubber band the plastic ball makes a very audible sound as it bangs against the tank. But I have noticed that many dive people come up with their own signature attention getting method, and it’s cool if you can come up with a good one. Rico’s shaker thing was pretty cool). He did the turtle sign as another giant cruised by. I kicked towards the turtle to get a close up look. She turned and came in my direction, veered off just a few feet from me and cruised on down the wall. We saw six turtles in all, hawksbill turtles. I touched one who was hanging out in a particularly vibrant patch of corral – something about coming in close contact with a wild creature in its own environment that is neat. Sounds rather Ranger Rickish or perhaps Jacque Cousteauish is more appropriate. She was just hanging out and did not skitter away as I approached. I reached out and touched her fin which she flapped. As she began to move away I ran my hand down the back of her shell – a nice diving memory. They were big, maybe 5 or 6 feet around. We saw lots of other things but the turtles definitely stole the show.

My air gauge was deep into the red zone by the end of the dive but Rico didn’t seem too concerned. He probably realized I had lost a lot of air in the BCD debacle and he did make sure we spent the last 10 minutes of our dive at about 10 ft. A remarkable time.

"Blissfully Ignorant in Sulawesi" Sulawesi Travels #1

2004-11-27T11:40:00.000+07:00

Image: Sulawesi, Manado

Image: Sulawesi, Tana Toraja Terraced Rice Fields

Sulawesi Travel Journal #1

I had my first A & W root beer float about an hour ago at the Jakarta airport “Everything All American” A & W restaurant. My “its vacation time and I can eat whatever I want” clause has officially kicked in. The All American curly fries were a nice accompaniment to the float. Presently I have a McChicken Meal in a bag at my feet under the plane seat in front of me. I would normally never subject people to the smell of a Mc anything meal to be recycled through the air conditioning unit on the plane BUT we are going to Manado ..... so I’m doing it. Not sure why going to Manado justifies an assault on the olfactory system of my fellow plane people but such are certain things in life.

Image: Sulawesi, Tana Toraja Houses

I’m going into this trip blind. My traveling companions have prepared everything ahead of time. I have a vague idea of where we are going but no details. It should be a new experience and I’m actually looking forward to it. I have been rather busy lately and thus not involved in the preliminary planning. But as the days passed and it got closer to our embarkation date I purposely ignored investigating the details of the trip. I thought it would be fun to venture into the unknown unknowing.

Image: Sulawesi, Tana Toraja Buffalo Mud Bath

Now I am on the plane. It is that very unpleasant time when they shut off all the air before the plane gets its engines fired up and begins its pre take off taxi. My face is glistening.

Pool side at the Santika hotel. The hotel is advertised as “the” resort hotel in Manado and it is quite nice. But it is a tad bit rough around the edges – but interestingly not in a third world way – more in a Soviet bloc country sort of way. Perhaps it is in deference to the Soekarno era when the Indonesian government dabbled with the option of becoming communist until the Western powers offered up Papua at the bargaining table to ensure that the largest archipelago in the world and all the good stuff that comes along with such a geographic feature, was safely in the hands of the “good guys”.... the guys who really know how to make money off of a countries resources. A children’s playground rusting away, paint chipping here and there, a bit too much mold and moss in various nooks and crannies, overgrown patches of grass popping up in random places – just looks like it needs a god scrub down and white wash to bring it up to its top resort billing – rather amusing that I am making such observations considering the fact that I once lived in an apartment with no working shower, a pistol target range in the bedroom closet and impressed my friend visiting from Japan so much by its starkness and dilapidation that he said it was the most interesting thing he saw while he was on holiday in the states, a trip which included several days in Chicago and NYC. Anyway I am simply recording my observations and subsequent thoughts as they come and trying not to drip sweat on this page, which is becoming near impossible as I am wet now from sweat as I was ten minutes ago after just emerging from the pool.

It is hot. Blue sky, blazing sun, tropical hot. So I am going diving.

Golf In Jakarta

2004-11-26T13:24:00.000+07:00

Golf in Jakarta is great. There are plenty of courses, they are relatively cheap and the caddies are usually pretty helpful. It is also fun to read about golf while living in Jakarta.

Recently I have been following the controversy surrounding comments made by English golfer Paul Casey about golf fans in the US and "Americans" (I am pretty certain he meant people living in the US and not Hondurans, Canadians, Argentineans and all the other Americans living in the Americas) in general. This entire situation and the unsavory behavior of the USA fans Casey referred to pales in comparison to recent events involving some of Casey's compatriots’ behavior this past weekend at a Premiership match between Blackburn and Birmingham City. Casey recently remarked that "Americans" were insular and naive and generally "have a tendency to wind people up". He even managed to involve his "American" girlfriend stating that she considers many of her compatriots to be "uncivilized idiots". Very thoughtful of him to drag her into this mess. I am sure she is enjoying the damage control. This coming from a guy who considers Scottsdale, Arizona an oasis in the otherwise culturally barren wasteland of the US. Casey, a resident of the primarily white, upper middle class, scrubbed, coifed and manicured residential suburb says this about his adopted home: "In Scottsdale, it's not so bad, because the people there have traveled and you can have civilized conversations with them, but the vast majority of Americans simply don't know what is going on." Boston, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Scottsdale.... right on.

This weekend a Mr. David Ashcroft and a Mr. Jason Perryman, both sporting fans from Casey's homeland of apparent civility, were recently arrested for making racial gestures towards Dwight Yorke of the Birmingham City football club. Apparently they directed monkey gestures toward him from the front row of seats in direct view of several very visible TV cameras. Bloody brilliant! Well done lads! Perhaps we can borrow a few words from Casey's "most likely not very popular in Scottsdale right now" girlfriend and deem these fellows "uncivilized idiots". And isn't England known for some other bit of spectator behavior..... Oh yes, the football hooligans, the most infamous fans in the world of sports.

But all this bickering is wearisome. It is time to mend. I encourage Americans wherever you are to find an English person, or anyone who speaks English, or knows someone English, or even knows someone who speaks English - or just grab anyone - take them to a professional basketball game, buy a super size American beer and a jumbo hotdog and fries - make that cheese fries - combo option, eat the giant dog and pile of fries and then throw the beer at the player of your choice. Enjoy the show as lots of people join in and begin behaving like "uncivilized idiots".

"Melon!" "Pasta Bowl!" and Stuff

2004-11-03T13:03:00.000+07:00

"What doz dese 'mel-on’! ‘mel-on’! wordz mean? I do not understand dis 'mel-on'" (it helps if you imagine you favorite stereotypical French guy speaking these words). This question was posed by Frederique (I am pretty certain it is spelled Frederick but Frederique looks a bit more “French” – no?) after our soccer game on Saturday.

Frederique is from France via Reunion. Reunion is a small island off the coast of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean that still has the abbreviation “Fr” in parenthesis under its name on a map. This indicates that Reunion is part of France (check out “Gibraltar” in the south of Spain – a curious one). It is pretty amazing how thoroughly Europe (and by extension the Neo-Europes) gobbled up the world back in the “hay days” (hey days?) of European exploration and expansion. Most of the world has been returned to their “rightful” owners in the last 50 years or so. The majority of these new countries now face the daunting task of stuffing a variety of people groups, representing a myriad of languages, traditions, economic lifestyles, body modification techniques, cosmetic preferences, fashion do’s and don’ts, shave or not to shave, McDonalds or Kentucky Fried, rice or noodles, Coke? Pepsi? and such, into the boundaries of a modern “nation state” of European design. Not an easy task, which explains why various people sharing a common culture and tradition (nations) are beating the hell out of other people who share a different common culture and tradition in the name of Life, Liberty and the right to pursue what makes them happy as a distinct group. But for some reason – the Europeans (and Neo Europeans) did not relinquish their hold on the islands littering the world’s oceans – especially those between about 23*N and 23*S of the equator – the ones with balmy breezes and white sandy beaches, coconut trees and lazy lagoons, surreal sunsets and bayside bungalows, Club Meds and Hiltons, golf resorts and spa retreats - reasons most likely involving holidays and vacation time shares.

French via Reunion Frederique could not wrap his brain around the implications of the word “mel-on” in context of his situation on the soccer pitch. He realized that “mel-on” was yelled when he was approached by a member of the opposing team who had the intent of dispossessing his control of the ball. But what baffled Frederique, and rightly so, was why we used the name of a fruit to indicate such a situation. We were yelling “man on”. Frederique was hearing “melon” as in cantaloupe and honeydew. So the next time an Italian asks you to “pasta bowl” during a match you’ll know where they’re coming from.

Jakarta Surfing

2004-10-28T11:35:00.000+07:00

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Sunset Beach

Surfing in Indonesia is fun although getting there can be quite an adventure – getting to the surf that is ... getting here, to Indonesia is easy, relatively, depending on the airline, and “the port of embarkation/disembarkation” (I never know which is which on those airline departure/arrival/custom cards) and whether or not you get an aisle, middle or window seat. I prefer the aisle seat for the long haul as it allows for easy roaming access – something that becomes very significant in hour 6 of a 12 hour flight. For shorter journeys I enjoy the privacy, view and headrest option that a window seat provides. Middle seats are stupid. And then of course if you end up sitting next to a screaming child forget about it. Crack open the tranquilizers or whatever other mind numbing devices are immediately available.

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Sunset Beach In the Rain

On my last surf weekend to the Indian Oceanside town of Pelabuhanratu, my friends and I tried a few new spots that some locals told us about. It was suggested that we pay one of the scooter taxi guys to drive ahead of us and show us the turn off to the beach access “road”. He led us up some ridiculously steep hills and around some equally ridiculous curves until we reached the beach entrance “road”. We dealt with the guys who control access to the road, which involved a transaction of a few thousand rupiah and then peered over the ledge of the entrance way into the steepest incline of a “road” I have ever seen. I felt like an extreme skier on the edge of a lip peering down an almost vertical drop into oblivion. But the surf beckoned and Brandon and Scott encouraged so we dropped in. My brakes did well and we made it to the bottom only to come face to face with what made the hill I had just descended the second steepest road hill I had ever seen in my life. It began with a bridge upon which was a broken down four wheel drive Jeep with 4 guys lounging about and 2 more guys under the hood working on what we found out later was a “steep hill induced blown transmission”. So up we went hoping we would not tip over backwards – it actually had the look and feel like that was a definite possibility.

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Sunset Beach

Isn’t there some physical law that determines the limits of the steepness of a road? Some “angle of repose” or something where stuff collapses upon itself – like when you try and dig a whole in the sand at the beach and eventually it is so steep that the sand begins to slip into the whole faster than you can excavate it out? I know they had this difficulty when building the Panama Canal. The more they dug the faster the hole filled. It was one of the greatest challenges engineers faced when cutting through the highlands of the continental divide during the canal construction. Fascinating engineering fete is the Panama Canal. It took ten years to build, from 1904 to 1914. Actually it was begun about 20 years before by the French, a venture organized by the same guy who was the inspiration for the Suez Canal, but they did not yet have the technology to deal with the geography of Panama. During the creation of the canal, mosquitoes were recognized as the carriers of various tropical diseases and eradicated on the Isthmus. The water flow for the lock system operates entirely on gravity. Water from the huge man made Lake Gatun at the top of the lock system provides for the water elevators. Lake Gatun has its own “perpetual” source of water. The incredibly dense tropical rainforest surrounding the Canal Zone and evaporation from the lake itself are responsible for about 80 feet of rain annually which falls throughout the year consistently replenishing Gatun.

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Sunset Beach

The country of Panama was created for the purpose of the canal construction. The US realized the importance of naval superiority for world domination via the history lesson of an Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan. This explains the existence of the letters “US” in parenthesis under the names of various tiny islands sprinkled throughout the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. They were used as supply depots and bases for the US naval and mercantile fleets. The Panama Canal was essential to the quick movement of goods and troops from one coast of the US to the other and beyond. The US approached Colombia and asked for a zone in the Isthmus of Panama to build a canal. The Isthmus was part of Colombia. The government of Colombia had no interest in giving the US such a privileged position on their land. So the US took the Isthmus, by means of a US backed revolution carried out by wealthy Panamanians. Panama broke away from Colombia, became its own country and the US had its Canal Zone. The canal takes about 8000 miles off the trip from the Atlantic to the Pacific by way of rounding South America. Ships pay a hefty toll, up to 142,000 dollars for cruise ships. But it is worth the huge fee demonstrated by the fact that builders construct ships specific to the size constraints of the canal itself. Such ships are referred to as Panammax size. They still have to deal with that angle of repose thing as the land surrounding the canal continuously makes its way downhill but other than that the canal has seen very few modifications in its 90 years of operation.

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Ocean Queen

Like the Canal Zone workers we dealt with the angles of incline and made it to the beach. It was strikingly beautiful; vibrant green hills, rocky cliffs cascading into aquamarine water, local fishermen baiting hooks in technicolor boats prepping for the all night shift, the sand burning the hell out of our soft, pink bule` feet ... The surf was mediocre but as is the case with many adventures, the journey was as remarkable as the final destination.

Image: Pelabuhan Ratu - Ocean Queen Sequence

Jakarta Soccer

2004-10-26T16:43:00.000+07:00

Image: German + at the 5-Aside International Sports Club of Indonesia (ISCI) Tournament

Image: 5-Aside ISCI Tournament

Inst! This is what the Indo guys on my soccer team call me. It is not a nick name. They think my name is Inst. My name is Ian. They have heard my name said again and again from other players on the team. Early on I corrected them and told them my name is not Inst but Ian. They continued to call me Inst. Which is OK – it works. Considering the names on my team I am most likely, no I know I am – for sure - doing the same thing. But I am not sure if I am slaughtering names as thoroughly as they have done mine. We’ve got a Dongy, a Faddly, a Bhudi, a Doudu? and a Dani (which I am certain are all shortened and simplified for our convenience) representing the Indo contingent. The Germans are a bit easier to deal with but there are a few like Kolnya, Tsussi, and Malte that continue to give me some difficulty now and again. Then there are the Anglophones – Ian (me) and Glen. For some reason they have Glen under control but call me Inst. This name game adds an entire new element to a match as I have developed a style of play very dependent on communication. I am sure I sound every bit the lunatic to my teammates as I am spewing out my various interpretations of names.

But for all the difficulties here in Indo it does not compare to what I had to deal with on my team in Japan Japanese, being Japanese, take the name thing to a whole new level. When referring to someone by name in Japan you always use an “honorific”. I don’t know what the official term for such a word, but it is like “Mr.” in English. The problem is knowing what to call someone and understanding why they are calling you what they are calling you. The two most common honorifics in casual conversation are “san” and “chan”. San is typically a bit more formal and used among adults while chan is more likely attached to a child and used among children, but not exclusively. In Japan I was Ian San to most of the Japanese who worked in the office but my friends Dan and Scott were “chans”. I wanted to know why I was not a chan so asked several of the office workers and they said because Scott and Dan are “chans” and you are a “san”. Super, thanks for clearing that up. When I was trying out for and later practicing with my Japanese team I noticed the same phenomena. All of the players were adults yet some were “chan” to certain players and “san” to others and some were either “chan” or “san” to everyone. I didn’t know what to call anyone so usually would just end up yelling “hey” or “oy” or something to get their attention which usually sufficed but was not all that culturally cool and stuff. Eventually I figured out that it was more of a personality thing. Certain people who are childlike and immature such as my friends Scott and Dan are chan’s while more experienced and mature people like myself are sans – that’s what I am going with anyway.

Thus are the joys of playing the great sport of soccer here in Jakarta and beyond. Sayonara and sampai jumpa - Inst San.

Pixie the Roof Cat

2004-10-16T15:43:00.000+07:00

Image: Whacked Out Roof Cat

My cat is a roof cat. She spends the day light hours outside on the various layers of roof that cover our facility and for the most part keep the critters out ... sort of. Pixie is a roof kitty by default. She would probably prefer to spend the day at street level but this is not a viable option at this point in time. This is getting rather complicated – as is the cat situation in Jakarta

The cat population of Jakarta is enormous. They are everywhere. There are of course the ordinary street cats but many tend to specialize. An ever expanding pride lives on our school campus. Another makes its home at the golf driving range. Just last week they welcomed a new litter to their community, born in a large clay decorative urn just off the tees. A few weeks ago I saw one hanging out at the mall. She was stalking about in the cascading flower garden that graces the escalator area. Cats are not only tolerated but accepted and often times encouraged by the humans, who routinely come in contact with them, to remain in a particular area. The cat community of our school is often treated to a random bowl of food deliberately placed in an out of the way corner – lest one of Miss Pahls first graders gets a hankering for kitty food, even though the official policy of the school as a “cat free zone” (which shows the degree of the cat situation here – that an institution actually has a set policy concerning cats). But having a cat free zone in Jakarta is about as practical as a establishing a horse fly free zone in North Creek, New York (random reference – for those at home reading along). One mother school cat had cataracts and babies which is not a good thing to have at the same time. Our admissions director treated the mom for a bit until her eyes cleared up and several of the work staff were commandeered into feeding the babies with an eye dropper until mom was fit to get on with her mom duties. But mind you NJIS is a cat free zone. So there are cats everywhere – certainly not tame but very much a part of the urban landscape of Jakarta.

Back to Pixie the roof cat. When we moved here to Indo, Pixie came along with the house we were to occupy. Little is known about Pixie’s background. She does not have a tail, is a couple years old, and is somewhere between a strait up street cat and a tame house cat (although the latter is winning out). She spent most of her time outside on the street while we lived in our house. When we arrived home from work she would come inside and hang out with us until nightfall. At night she would return to the streets until morning when she would make an appearance to see us off to work. She likes the street but is becoming more accustomed to the luxurious life of a house cat.

When we moved this year from our house to an apartment in a different area, I was concerned that Pixie would struggle with her new neighborhood and the cats that roamed its streets. I let her out a few times on a trial basis but followed behind a few steps like a worried nanny. I wanted to allow Pixie her independence and sense of being on her own but very ready to intervene if the need arose. It was fascinating to watch how Pixie went about her explorations. It was remarkably different than Oscar our stateside cat’s methodology. Pixie proceeded outside slowly and very aware of her surroundings. She was particularly methodical, making mental kitty notes as she slinked about just in case she needed to beat a hasty retreat back to the safe zone of our apartment. She paid special attention to the area around our door insuring that she cold recognize it upon return. Slowly she crept forward, crouched low, ears twitching like radar antennas. In the states, Oscar our Chicago city apartment cat, got out once and bolted strait away. He had no idea where he was going or how to get back. No agenda, completely unaware, definitely not a 3d world street/house cat. I found Oscar about 45 minutes after his bolt into oblivion terrified and crouched in a corner crawl space of our apartment building. He hadn’t a clue how to get home and was only about 50 feet from our apartment ... Back to Jakarta ... So I followed Pixie around, making sure to stay far enough behind as to not impose on her sense of freedom and allow her to look cool and independent and stuff just in case she came across one of the members of the school pride. Eventually the inevitable happened. Pixie slinked around a corner and came face to face with a juvenile of the school gang. The school kitty nonchalantly sat back on its haunches, cocked its head and stared curiously at Pixie. It looked like all she wanted to do was make friends and play – kind of had that anxious look that a kid gets when they meet another kid on the playground and all they want to do is play but need to get through the preliminaries of initial contact. Pixie did not want to play. She immediately went into street cat survival mode, got bristly, crouched even lower, offered forth some primordial guttural growl, turned and made a beeline directly for our apartment door and the safe zone.

So for the time being, until Pixie gets accustomed to the new surroundings, her daytime prowls are limited to the roof (actually it is a complex system of layers and nooks and crannies and cooling systems and all sorts of places to hide and peer out and do other cat stuff – minus the other cats). She seems content with this arrangement. In the morning she approaches the window meowing and we let her out. When we get home I open the window and whistle a bit and yell her name a few times and wait. The sound of her footsteps pattering on the noisy roof shingles always announce her arrival as she comes scurrying towards the window, meowing, excited about an evening meal and lounging about on soft cushions in air conditioned comfort. Such is the life of Pixie the Jakarta roof kitty.

Pembantus, Panic rooms and Creeping Carpets

2004-10-06T13:08:00.000+07:00

We have a carpet running the length of our hallway in the *panic room that slowly migrates towards the wall. I usually take notice when its creeping causes it to bunch at the edges as it presses into the crook where the wall meets the floor. When it reaches this stage I simply move it back into the middle of the hallway, briefly ponder this peculiar behavior, and then get on with things. It is odd and here are some possible theories: it has something to do with the strange existence of the panic room itself; Wayan our *pembantu likes to move our carpet in small increments towards the wall; centrifugal, gravitiational or some other earth force is “pulling” our carpet due to our proximity to the bulging equator; Indonesian feng shui type of thing in combination with one or all of the above; or perhaps our cat Pixie just goes nuts in the house when we are gone. I have considered setting up a video camera but that would take effort of a degree I am not willing to expend. So for the time being the mystery of the moving carpet will remain one of many curiosities that make living in Indonesia such an intriguing venture.

*panic room We live in housing paid for by the school where we teach. It is adequate, actually quite nice, but it does have a few oddities. These peculiarities can be explained by the fact that the apartments used to be school offices or Rudi the school engineer responsible for the remodeling was a very creative fellow. Whatever the reason we have a narrow room/hallway connecting the dining, kitchen spare bedroom area to the living room, master bedroom area. But it is not your ordinary hallway. It once had very solid doors at each of its ends until the previous apartment dwellers removed them because they serve absolutely no purpose (unless indeed it is a panic room). The only furnishing originally in the room/hallway was a giant wall map of the city of Jakarta – the type you might expect to see in strategic planning room of Interpol Indonesia ... or in a panic room ... perhaps there was more to Rudi the “engineer” than met the eye.

*pembantu Indonesia is a “maid” culture. Most people of a certain economic level have a variety of hired help from maid (s) to nannies to drivers, guards, gardeners, household managers and such. More often than not you are responsible for the well being of your hired help and in the maid’s case this usually involves housing. A pembantu is a live in maid. We had one last year and it took some getting used to. First off, just having someone work for us in such a capacity was odd and having this person live in our house was exceptionally odd. But it is the norm; we actually did not really have a choice. The school provided the house and Nyoman, our pembantu, was part of the housing package. This year Wayan lives in a room between several of our apartments. She does not live with us and attends to the cooking, cleaning, and washing of our household and that of another couple, the Sheas, living in the campus apartments ... which explains why Mr. Shea is wearing my shirt to school today.

Happy Rainy Season

2004-10-05T16:02:00.000+07:00

The rainy season made its debut this year with quite a bang, literally. I was playing soccer up near Bogor about 40 km or 20 some odd miles south of Jakarta when it started to sprinkle. I did not think much of it other than how my new soccer boots were going to fair in the wet grass. The shoes were purchased with dry season pitches in mind - packed hard dirt/grass - thus no studs. They are also a very unsightly blue color which I am still struggling with. They were bought "sight unseen" from a teammate - cheap and very blue.

Anyway I had a lot of time to do little practice moves and view my shoes from various angles where the blue color was not quite so disturbing, due to the fact that I was playing goalie. Our Indo players are on strike - or so it seems - not such a big deal except that both our goalies are Indos. Being one of the few players raised in a country where kids grow up throwing and catching I figured I had best get myself in goal before one of the hung over Germans volunteered as an opportunity to avoid running about. My shoes did fine and I performed well enough - we posted a 2 - 2 tie against a typically genki Japanese side.

I did not give the rain much thought until I was driving home and the show began. Huge amounts of water accompanied by tremendous thunder cracks (it is definitely a crack rather than a boom) and fractal style lightning flashes marked the beginning of this years rains. The rains followed me home to the city and soon the streets of Jakarta were flowing. I enjoy the rainy season. At least there exists each day the potential of a change in the weather. During the dry season it is hot with a chance of being hotter or perhaps a degree or two cooler. Thats about the extent of change. But now there is a very good chance that every afternoon around 3, the sky will darken, the wind will pick up and more often than not it will dump rain for a bit. This might occurr again later on in the evening which can be nice - drifting off while the rains make all sorts of sleep inducing sounds .... So now it will rain pretty much everyday until around May. And the city will seem a little cleaner and the air slightly fresher and the greenery a shade greener and the mosquitos a lot deader and the canals a bit more full, and more full, and more full until they crest their banks at which time the rainy season is no longer quite so pleasant ... but for the time being I welcome the change in seasons and enjoy the rain it brings.

World Traffic

2004-10-05T13:26:00.000+07:00

Image: Bajaj Driver Jakarta, Indonesia

Image: Two Guys and Three Sheep on a Motor Skooter in West Java, Indonesia

Image: Fish Drying On Kijang in West Java, Indonesia

Driving in Jakarta is fun.

Eating in Indo

2004-10-05T13:09:00.000+07:00

Image: Birthday Prawns Pelabuhan Ratu, Indonesia

Image: Fresh Picked Passion Fruit Wamena, Papua, Indonesia

Eating in Jakarta is fun. I just drank the most bizarrely colored beverage of my life. It is a canned drink and is advertised as strawberry but tastes kind of fruit punchy and is rather nondescript. The color is a purplish, pinkish red and is actually very pretty - something I have never said before about a soft drink or any drink for that matter. It has coated the side of my glass with its brilliant hue and most likely my mouth as well.

Indonesia is quite well known for its cuisine, its incredible variety of fresh tropical fruits, chicken sate with spicy peanut sauce, fragrant rice, rich, coconutty curries, amazing seafood, which are all indeed nice. But it also offers a tremendous variety of equally diverse processed/pre-packaged foods - like beautifully colored strawberry drink. The snack aisle of any super market or street side warung is chock a bloc full of incredibly curious and tempting treats. Many of the offerings are recognizable brands but with an Indonesian flare. Doritos are sold but the logo and color of the package design are just not quite right ... and they are ridiculously inexpensive, tasty but again just not quite right - especially when compared to the quite costly can of Doritos with the right logo and color scheme sold at the import store .... and whats up with the new release DVD’s for 2$ and those Pumu, Adadis, Niike, Umbra soccer boots for 15$, and the Gacci, Pulo, Vuton stuff for really cheap – and why all the spelling mistakes in Indonesia .... Back to the treats. Other treats are strictly Indonesian – they don’t mess about with putting on “foreign brand airs” – but they do use cool sounding and looking English language words in the descriptions. Just like in the US when we use Chinese/Japanese kanji characters on t-shirts and stuff because it’s cool. Doesn’t matter if your walking around with a bad ass black t-shirt that says “kiss kiss the magic duckling” – its all about the kanji. I actually saw and purchased a greeting card from a local department store the other day that had written on a cloud speckled sky of a background “clear meat soup, and I love you so” really – it’s English, it’s cool.

Some of the snacks are quite tasty but make one wonder about the Indonesian counterpart of the FDA. Did the chemicals used to make that “Smashing Strawberry” drink such a lovely shade of purple pass some sort of quality control screening process? And what about that super bargain jumbo bag of “Snack Train Chips” for a 1$. How so cheap?? What type of ingredients they got going on in there??? But these are trivial concerns in light of the fun one can have perusing the snack aisle and now and then treating oneself to a taste of the less famous but certainly infamous side of Indonesian cuisine.

Image: Big Happy Pig - Market in Wamena, Papua, Indonesia

Kelapa What????

2004-10-05T13:08:00.000+07:00

Living in a coconut garden.