Onwards

Entry #18.  February 27, 2013, 6:08 pm.  Living room, Apartment, District 5, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.  A year abroad.  18 blog posts later, I sit at my same computer and think about how my time abroad has changed me, how my experiences have shaped my thinking, and how I've learned from the new people I've met.  But once more I mostly focus on how quickly time has gone by, especially when I consider that I originally planned to stay just six months.  To think about the person I was a year ago, before the Eastern hemisphere exploded before me, I can conclude that my moral framework- my perspective on human reality- has been shaken, because I have seen so many new things and thought about matters that never before entered my mind.  My political and even religious views have evolved, in attempt to rectify the human conditions I've witnessed.  By starting a new life across the world, I've been instilled with new forms of confidence, practicality, and adaptability.  And best of all, I can carry these transformations into the future, to better myself as a worldly inquisitor.

Recap- the past 12 months in a paragraph: I've lived and studied in Phnom Penh, trekked through Khmer jungles and temples, swam along the budding beaches of coastal Cambodia, eaten my way through Singaporean neighborhoods, traveled to the traditional north and historic middle of Vietnam, observed Ramadan in Kuala Lumpur, trudged through island rainforest in Malaysia, slept under a mosquito net in the rice patties of the Mekong Delta.  I've celebrated Christmas with my family in Vienna, capered in the Austrian Alps, indulged in Paris, meandered down France into Switzerland, flown back across the world to my home of Vietnam, continued my life as an English teacher in Ho Chi Minh City, and I've (evidently) learned to use the present perfect tense. And most recently, I've returned from a provoking trip in Indonesia.  "The world is only as big as what you know."  Agreed, and looking back, I can affirm that traveling to new places makes the world smaller, but its meaning much larger.

From my past, we move to the present plans for my future.  Status: tentative.  It's a lot harder to stop when you've got the momentum of the travel bug.  But as much as I'm allowed to say, I intend to come home in the next five years.  The engagement has complicated things, her family is particular, and it will take time to move a family into America.  And I'm in no hurry to return to a country that hosts all three of my outstanding arrest warrants.

By now, dry sarcasm should be nothing new.  I will, however, publicly announce that I plan on coming home this year to pursue my career, but currently, my life ain't broke, and I ain't going to fix it.  Here's why:

What thoughts and images unfold in your mind when I mention Bali?  If you're my mother, you're asking, "Where's that?"  If you're my sister, you're asking, "What's that?".  Well, most people don't realize it's an island off of Java (the world's most populous island) in Indonesia.  As one friendly local man said, "people say they've been to Bali, but if you ask if they've been to Indonesia, they say no!".  Further, it is not exactly common knowledge that Indonesia is the world's fourth most populous nation, after China, India, and the United States.  The island of Java itself has nearly 135 million people- a little less than half of the population of the US- crammed onto a detached landmass the size of North Carolina.  The nation also ranks as the world's most populated Islamic country, but Buddhism and Hinduism (primarily on the island of Bali) remain strong cultural influences.  What's more, the country is filled with stunning beaches, delicious cuisine, enormous biodiversity, and interesting people.  At first, ten days seemed like a long time for a holiday, but I could have spent ten weeks island-hopping in this largely underappreciated nation between the Indian and Pacific Oceans.

I went with six other teacher-friends and we first flew to Jakarta.  Another enormous and frenetic capital city, we decided that two nights was enough time to spend in what was first thought to be a Saigon-like, cement jungle of chaos.  However, we arrived the night before the Chinese New Year (called Tết in Vietnam and massively celebrated in southern Asia), and the city was relatively quiet.  We spent the first day in my ideal way- drinking the local drinks and sightseeing the local sights... these are a few of my favorite things.  Because it was Chinese New Year, we thought it would be a good idea to head to Chinatown, to see the dancing dragons,  impossibly flexible street performers, and bustling markets that sell antique fireworks-- all the things that should be expected of a celebrating Chinatown.  Upon arriving, we weren't even sure if the cab driver had taken us to the correct spot because the streets were empty and the only vendor in sight was selling hamster cages.  The local architecture revealed that we were indeed in Chinatown, but where were all the people?  After turning down a lantern-covered alleyway, witnessing a chicken slaughter, and passing napping rickshaw drivers, we finally approached a small crowd.   Following a trickle of people down an even smaller alleyway, we were coughed out into a wide courtyard decorated with a red central pagoda, masses of praying Chinese, and a swirling prayer house.  All the activity of this particular neighborhood was condensed in the Buddhist temple before us.  People were lighting candles, burning incense, and releasing live birds from cages.   After spending the whole day in what was a seemingly empty capital city, we were all enlivened when we discovered this burst of Chinese energy... or as you may know it better, qi.

From Jakarta we ventured to highly anticipated Bali.  A two hour plane ride across a different time zone took us to the world renowned island, where Hinduism is the dominant religion and a unique language (Balinese) is spoken.  Bali was the it place to go in the past decades, and it is currently seeing a resurgent boom in its tourism industry.  Nonetheless, February is a perfect month to go because it's in the low season, and therefore escapes the other months when hordes of tank-top-wearing Australians bombard the island with Ozzy debauchery.  We spent our first nights in Kuta, the spoiled tacky tourist beach town of southern Bali.  The 'Cancun' of Asia and complete with Señor Frogs-esque beach bars, Kuta was fun but not quite a cultural epiphany.  I enjoyed spending the day under the sun and above the sand, but two days was enough in that joint and our next stop was due to be a far more genuine experience.  We bussed up to Ubud, which lies within the mountainous Balinese jungles.  The town is a haven for artists, hippie tourists, yoga junkies, and Crab-eating Macaque monkeys.  Although not untouched by the tourism trail, Ubud still has a sense of exotic mystique, with the dense tangle of vines, towering trees, relentless insects, and sporadic Hindu spirit temples adding to the old charm of the South Pacific.  My favorite day of the entire trip started early in Ubud, when our hired driver took us to a traditional Balinese dance concert (somewhat of a tourist trap and somewhat horrifying when the midgets came out).  Interesting, but not riveting.  Onwards we went to the backcountry and hiked a short path to a stunning waterfall- the kind of waterfall you would expect to see in the background of an antique postcard.  I chose to venture towards the falls and swim in the pool of churning water.  Call it my Balinese baptism, it was a very beautiful spot in this beautiful world and 30 minutes of euphoric swimming that I will not forget.  Next our driver took us to a reputable wood-carving workshop, where we watched the typical "how-to" demo from the token English speaker, to then peruse the intricate final products.  One guy in our party decided to drop $800 on three delicate Balinese masks, and I felt compelled to show him up and purchase a $15 wooden elephant.  Afterwards, we ate lunch at a market food stand so that we could try the local favorite- suckling pig.  A massive pig sat looking dead with a spick impaled through its opposite holes, and the lady relentlessly carved off some shavings, including its crispy skin.  Then a bowl of noodles, pork, intestines, blood cake, liver, heart, and skin was delivered to me and I had to try my best to enjoy the bodily feast.  Some biological structures taste better than others.  After our bellies were full of swine organs, our driver took us to one of the most revered holy sites on the island, the Hindu water temple.  It took an hour's ride deeper into the mountains to bring us to Istana Tampak Siring, or the Holy Springs Water Temple.  In the center of this forest sanctuary sit two rectangular, crystal clear, natural pools.  Against their far walls, nearly 15 spouts of natural spring water, believed to have mystical healing powers, jet out from the mouths of stone carvings.    Each spout has a unique ability, whether to heal the sick or bring good fortune.  An incredible place.  Some intriguing things about this temple-  tourists and worshippers together can enter the pools and rinse off in the holy waters (of course I did), the President of Indonesia's Bali mansion sits above the temple on a hilltop, sarongs are needed to enter the most sacred parts of the temple (including the pools), and two holy spouts in the line of 15 must be avoided, as they are reserved only for the dead.  This place was a true highlight; the feeling of bathing in purely natural water under the tropical canopy, amongst devout worshippers, really brought me a sense of tranquility and a connection to the human spirit that I was not expecting.  I felt just like Julia Roberts in one of her "find myself" movies, in fact.  We needed several hours to explore the rest of the temple, and then later we finally embarked on our journey back to Ubud.  The drive led us through tiered rice patties of every shade of green, and after few hours we were all sipping cocktails at sunset back in Ubud.  Although it took a hefty paragraph to describe, this day was a perfectly paced expedition around central Bali.

To find the more untainted beaches of Indonesia, a few days later we ferried our way to the Gili islands, a small archipelago that boasts amazing scenery.  And although 'amazing' is often amazingly overused in American slang, which is amazing b.t.dubs, here it is rightful.  Besides a single road crammed with restaurants, swim-up bars, dive shops, and bungalows, the island hosts turquoise water that I've only seen elsewhere in the Caribbean, as well as white-pink beaches with volcano-laden backdrops.  Truly amazing. 

 I fully embraced the island lifestyle and if I had stayed any longer, I would have started growing dreadlocks and getting Bob Marley tattoos just like the overly Rasta locals.  I completely lost track of time while I was there; the only two options were that it was either light, or dark.  The days were spent on the beach and in the water and the nights in bars or restaurants, either partying too hard or eating too much.  The many local seafood barbecues served up some of the tastiest grouper and snapper I've ever drooled over.  Some of the best scuba diving I've done as well, where I was swimming alongside Lionfish, Giant Moray Eels, Parrotfish, and Hawksbill Turtles.  Not to mention the famed Kimodo Dragons lived a half-day excursion away.  Again, I could have spent many more days on this particular island, and I'm even sad thinking about when I had to leave it...especially as I type and see on my arms that my Bali bronze is fading away.

One year sounds like a very long time, but really, 365.25 days it just an arbitrary measurement.  My mind is molding and the plasticity of my thoughts is exploited while I experience the world.  One lesson I dwell on is that it is very important to stay in the present, because those who dwell on the past can get depressed and those who concentrate on the future are likely to get anxious.  Peace comes in the now, and right now, I am staying in Vietnam to continue my life as a world investigator... at least until I feel it's time to throw off my conical hat, hang up my pollution mask, and pack up my chopsticks to come home.