Aug 27th – Oct 2nd Traveling around Jakarta or botanical blue whale blessings

Wednesday- 27

So all of us ETA’s had to go back to West Java for fingerprinting and picture taking for our Indonesian ID cards, which meant that we were once again put up in a outrageously fancy hotel complete with a giant curving marble staircase and complementary bath salts. More ridiculousness of the sort that ensues when over 30 Americans get together in a huge city in a foreign country. That night at around 3:30 am, my good friend Eric, (who loves whales) and i walked around this park containing a huge monument ingloriously referred to as Sukarno’s final erection, which i call the giant flaming erection. we see that there is part of the gate keeping us out that we could easily roll under, we roll and are eventually staring up at the white monument lit from below, makes me think D.C., and morning birds are soaring around and around and he sings Feed the Birds from Mary Poppins which was pretty perfect.

Thursday - ridiculousness, a club owned by the President’s son, and a very very happy birthday to my buddy Dan!

Friday – another daring escape! Kevin rouses a somewhat less than enthusiastic me out of bed and we’re off to meet Eric in Bogor, a town an hour train ride to the south of Jakarta. Bogor is also called the city of rain so I was full of joy when the huge drops began splashing down! We arrive and find Eric at peace in huge amazing botanical gardens, Kebun Raya. 80 hectares of winding overgrown paths, twisty vines, awe-inspiring root systems, streams, forgotten fountains, lotus ponds, orchid houses, more than 15,000 species of trees and plants and a, are you ready? A skeleton of a blue whale!!! We were only there very briefly though because we were off to the sea... A long bus ride interrupted by a scree CRAsh that turned out to not really do too much damage but certainly was startling and we had all been wondering how long it would be before we saw a crash because the traffic is so crazy shaky dense here.

photos by kev

Then a loooong night in a small beach side bungalow in the small fishing village of Pelabuhan Ratu. The power was out in the whole town which at first seemed a blessing because we arrived at night and could only hear the ocean waves and were enchanted by romantic idea of candlelight and such. The heat quickly became an unfriendly reminder of how dependent we still were on electricity. With no AC (why conditioner and not a much more obvious air cooler or chiller) and too many mosquitoes to open any windows, we were trying in vain to not touch each other while continuously debating the great sheet dilemma- too hot with the sheet, too many mosquito bites without it.

At some point in our fitful attempts at sleep i noticed the power was back on so we cranked up the AC and turned on the lights for some mosquito hunting. What a sight, the three of us laying there motionless in silent apprehension and intense focus, hands in the air, frozen in position, only our eyes furtively scanning, scanning. .. a buzz! A dark dot darts by! the furious clapping begins! At first we are fairly unsuccessful but we eventually honed our skills. I quickly became Mikaela the Merciless, mmm i don't exactly remember the others but lets say Kevin the Killer and Eric the Enforcer. This went one for quite some time as we were always sure we vanquished our last tiny foe but then a whirr and WHAM we’re back into action!

Quite inconsistent, my moral dilemmas regarding the taking of insects’ lives. Like how i will quickly build a small raft and life jacket for a single drowning ant but if a swarm of them invades my kitchen i quickly and somewhat regrettably show too little regard for their lives.

photos by kev

Saturday - We awake to ocean waves and brightly colored fishing vessels, hang around long enough for a morning dip and to appreciate the craftsmanship of the boats and take off for more scenic beaches. i could not believe that after almost a whole month living in this island nation this was my first chance to hear, smell, taste and feel the ocean! we took some angkots and ojeks (motorbikes) to an awesome black lava rock shore covered in crashing waves and crabs and we scrambled up the cliff above, Karang Hawu, also carved by lava flow, to a sea goddess shrine. Pelabuhan Ratu is where Nyai Loro Kidul resides, the malevolent goddess of the sea who takes fishermen and swimmers down to her undersea lair. You can’t wear green on the beach unless you want to fall prey. The shrine was a small room filled with offerings and several chanting supplicants, with the walls covered in paintings of the sea goddess and her sea dragon. pretty amazing.

photo by kev

Then another ojek ride to nearby Cipanas hot springs. There, steam bursts out of cracks in the river rocks and boiling hot water sprays, creating a hot river that downstream mingles with a cold river. It was pretty crowded up above with indos but downstream, if we ignored the cleaning of raw fish and occasionally pooing in the waters in the distance (we convinced ourselves the heat was killing everything) it was amazing and lovely. The currents carried hot water to relax us and then cool waters to refresh us in somehow perfect harmony.

photos by kev

By late afternoon we made it to a small surf town called Cimaja. It was paradise, hardly any tourists save for a few salty surfers and a completely undeveloped beach covered in rocks the size of juicy mangoes. As the fierce surf rolled out the rocks tumbled over other another in a beautiful clamor. we enjoyed a few beers at the bar in our small surfer hostel run by an exuberant expat and then called it a night.

photos by kev

Sunday- Dusk and dawn beach time everyday.
Eric left us for jungle adventuring the next morning while kev and i lolled about longer. explored further reaches of the beach where mango rocks and dinosaur eggs eventually succumbed to sand. there were many great lava rock boulders in the waters, some of them breaking the surf to make a huge tidal pool lagoon area where we floated about and sunned ourselves on the rocks as mermaids. contentedly contemplating crawling clambering coal colored camouflaged crabs, crafty claws clenching crevasses, climbing cliffs casually. I of course got very sunburned as i always do the first time i am out all day under the searing tropical sun, too stubborn to use sunscreen until too late.

photos by kev

We retreated back to cold beers and lazy naps and were later treated to free fresh delicious sautéed fish and prawns by our host. That evening at the ocean’s edge the palms trees silhouettes exploded against the fading sky, lit up by flashes of lightning and it was wonderful until i realized i was wearing green pants, oh no, retreat!

photos by kev

Monday- One last early morning at our paradise beach. My sunburn turned out to actually be a blessing because saying bye to the beach was less bittersweet. Back to Bogor (bus broke down on the way) for a full afternoon at the botanical magical gardens i mentioned earlier. orchids galore, an abandoned fountain, enthralling roots, a good bye to the blue whale skeleton and so much more. Rode economy train back to Jakarta which was surprisingly great. Sat cross-legged on floor in front of open doors, cityscapes and rural lives whooshing past, sunset flashes through trees, endless silver shining upside-down turnip mosques. We found ourselves wishing we could travel the whole country in the same manner, catching intimate glimpses while the rest slips past. Vendors hopped on board at each stop offering wares ranging from carrot shredders (walked as shredded live demo) and fireworks to picture frames and stickers (i admit, i was tempted). A woman weaved her way through the crowded aisle singing while her husband staggered under speakers behind her. Watched other trains depart with a crowd of young indo men casually sitting on the roofs! Foolishly dangerous, but i am sure quite a rush. Apparently police here shoot paintballs at them to get them to stop.

photo by kev

Arrived in Jakarta, another fun night of bules (foreigners) together and then back to Gresik the next afternoon.

August 23-24 The Trip to the Terrible Lake or precious jewels, fire oil and sacrilegious squatting

Saturday 23rd
Counterpart convinced me to go on an organized weekend trip with her and students and teachers to a “beautiful lake and waterfall” area. Desperate for some nature i was easily convinced. Got up at 6 am, climbed on board bus, shrugged off the fact that there were no students, just adults, tried to fall back asleep. Was woken up my sweat flowing down all over my body, trip turns out to be a suffocatingly hot, un-airconditioned, no windows, no hope even for a lost breeze, sweltering 7.5 hour bus ride of misery.

when finally arrived, could not see much nature, just small hotels and snack vendors. Heart sinking swiftly,while everyone else lazily settled into hotel for the afternoon i set off for the beautiful, vast, shimmering, precious jewel of a lake that would validate the trip it required and help lift my soggy spirits back up. Imagine my dismay when i am instead shocked by the sight of a sad, gray, man-made, enchained in concrete, spotted with pestilent buzzing motorboats, choked by a road, indo tourist excuse for a lake. I wander confusedly over to the other side where there is at least a fuchsia bougainvillea tree growing and sit behind it, blocking my view, trying to make the best of the situation.



Worse still, lake circled constantly by depressing parade of horses ridden by tourists, clopping on concrete.

This is indonesia dammit! Its full of wondrous, crazy, natural beauty and while gresik itself may be lacking, it certainly seems crazy that so many indonesians actually want to drive over 7 hours to come here to circle around in a motor boat or on a horse and then buy a t-shirt and call it a holiday. But thats just it, my friend explained when i called him, exasperated- T.I.I. This Is Indo.

Was so frustrated about whole situation and implications that went on run and found a dirt path leading off concrete horse crap covered one, so followed into trees. at first sooo much garbage but as ascended it gradually faded and then just me on a small dirt path with the birds and butterflies and unseen creatures so that at least felt great.


Next day got up early to go to waterfall. From about 6 feet up it was beautiful but below it was under construction, being converted into a concrete swimming pool. You had to clamber over orange tarps and poles and stand right under it to drown out the hammering. But all frustration dissolved away and whole trip worth it once i saw a baby monkey clinging to its mother’s belly!
Sunday 24th
Less than thrilled about long sweaty return, was even worse than before, continued to monitor sweat levels to make sure would know when actually had severe heat stroke. Tried to sleep through it, woke up as bus came to a lurching halt in palm forest. Oh, well, as it turns out we had added in surprise side trip to someone’s wedding! I consider staying on the bus but some little kid and their mom are nonchalantly defending the only seats you can fully recline on (but their eyes say they mean business) so i get off, wearily give the happy chaste couple my blessing and pose for a couple pictures then crumple onto patio floor shade in soggy panting heap.

Someone asks me if a traditional massage might help, and in my confused state i think porque no? So sit down in front of man and he rubs fire oil on my neck and shoulders. Fiery fire oil. Like when hot-tub water is so painfully hot that it scalds your skin pink only this was spicier. Not exactly what one wants when one thinks one might be suffering from heat stroke. Then i gritted my teeth as a new kind of pain was mercilessly delivered, his hands the swift messengers. the kneading friction only added fuel to the fire. I don't know why i didn't say something but i was so out of it i just helplessly told myself that this was unpleasant medicine and all my life i had been receiving wimpy love pats of the swedish sort and when in Java get a Javanese massage. But at times i did fear for the long-term integrity of my tendons and muscles.

At some point i somehow gave up and let go of the pain and was so subdued that if i thought if i felt 8 hairy tiny touches moving in a sort of locomotive unison across my bare skin i would have done nothing but wish Spider a safe journey and perhaps even apologize for blocking his path with my tedious body. Somehow i endured but so did the fire oil on my neck and shoulders, for hours later!

just to make this whole experience truly memorable, on the rest of the ride home i had to pee like a little kid who’s just been zipped, buttoned, and snapped inside a snowsuit, and the bus driver would not stop. I was left in limbo, sooo exhausted but unable to sleep due to the urgency of my bladder’s demands. He kept driving until finally there were so many of us doing the pee dance – a truly universal one! – he had to pull over. We were in front of a mosque, i felt quite unable to make it another step and was frantically asking “di mana WC (way-say)” but indos have this habit of vaguely pointing in some general direction as a response so i rushed off and couldn't find standard hole in the floor toilet so in sacrilegious desperation popped a squat over the trough that collects water after they wash their hands, feet, and faces from spigots above, praying all the while to Allah (i figured he’d be the most responsive in this specific predicament) that nobody would walk in but, perhaps to spite this nonbeliever he failed to intervene on my behalf and in walks several devout women! shocked, but luckily, mostly just outrageously amused by the sight of this pissing bule. Imagine walking in to find someone who’d climbed up onto a sink counter to pee squatting over the sink when the toilets were only 2 feet away and the bathroom is a holy place.

(Right now am sending the most lizard-loving thoughts to the little lizard crawling down my bedroom wall because do not want it to leave because it eats the mosquitoes for me and this is the first time i've seen one here in my room)

August 20th – 23rd: First days in Gresik or repressed mermaid sexuality.

Arrived in Gresik around dinner time, ate at a small cafe with two English teachers from my school, one of them is my counterpart which basically means my go-to person at my school and i had met her in Bandung before leaving where she gave me many gifts and was quite silly. So she took a later flight to Surabaya the huge city just an hour away from Gresik and we came together and met up with another English teacher who is a laughing teddy bear of a man around whose tummy my arms were clasped as we then sped off on his motorbike to the school. This was a surprise because i was running on maybe the least sleep ever other than thesis week and was not exactly prepared to meet 20 of my students! Drove up to see a HUGE banner across the school that read WELCOME MISS MIKAELA RODRIGUEZ! Just the beginning.

Luckily was then taken to my house where met my lovely wonderful family and was greeted by a sign reading WELCOME MAKELA and crepe paper streamers, snacks aplenty, rainbows dripping paper cranes, and best of all, a new blue bicycle!


Drifted into deep sleep to be awaken at 4 am by call to prayer blasted into my bedroom as it turns out my house is just across a narrow street from a mosque and there are at least 5 more in the near vicinity, and 20 nearby. love it though, just incredible. Although since i am writing this belatedly and Ramahdan has begun, besides the usual 5 times a day call to prayer there is also a rhythmic reading of the Koran, a native american tribal-like chanting and other such sounds from about 5:30 until midnight every night that can be so loud that in order to talk on the phone from anywhere in my house i have to retreat into the bathroom and request shouting from the other end.

Thursday the next day was my first day of officially visiting my school. Madness. Chaos. Was draped in candy and flower necklaces at entrance pulsing with the student body. Given the same gifts over and over again so that the act could be documented by the very short in stature student photographer who accompanied me throughout the day. I was given a tour of the whole school (about 40 classrooms?) during which several student tour guides would leading me into a classroom, proudly and nervously introduce me and then I would introduce myself and answering the questions “what do you think our school?” “what do you think about indonesia?” “are you married?” and no matter what i said the response was the same, an eruption of smiles and laughter to challenge krakatau and blinding flickering flashes of cell phone cameras. Every few classrooms my student guides were swapped for eager new ones, though the diminutive paparazzi stuck with me, rushing down the stairs ahead so he could take pictures of my sweaty overwhelmed descent and up the stairs for my ascent and so forth. After a dizzying tour, i was ushered into a large air conditioned room with a stage and microphones and was seated with the headmaster, another english teacher, and some other person of importance.



Speeches were delivered, including one about me which included a verbatim reading of my resume submitted with my application which began with the header: “ahem, mikaela lea rodriguez, 113 5th street douglas, alaska, 99824, home 907...” then the english teacher led them in a cheer to the tune of We Will We Will Rock Them with “We Love, We Love, Lea (lay-ah)” i gave a speech that few understood , a teacher serenaded me with what i believe was a tim mcgraw song on his guitar, and we ate. all the while i had to contain my great amusement at the fact that my very formal, conservatively dressed, elderly headmaster, was in fact unknowingly wearing a belt with a shining gold playboy bunny buckle.

Friday morning students picked me up from my house to take me to school as it took me about a week to be able to successfully make my way to school and home without any confusion. At school was greeted by the sight of an sea of shoes into which i happily tossed mine and then dove into beaming hiljab currents, all the teachers were in the front of the huge crowd, shyly fighting for my seat adjacent. Amazing religious singing by students after which i was called on stage to say before the hundreds what i thought of the singing. Then student punk rock band performs and lead singer grips mic as forcefully and casually as only a rock star can and dedicated the song to me which led to the millionth giggle eruption.

Muslim Chinese woman is main event, motivational speaker of sorts from what i can gather. Went on for about an hour, everyone laughing/singing/nodding in unison except me and a 2 yr old girl sitting just in front of me. We play with our toes and glance about with the same small sighs, our ponderings lost to the world around us- like why must we both be wriggling, squirming, in overheated, multilayered, oppressive, skin gasping for breathe discomfort. I, however, am well aware of that the reason behind my physical misery is derived from cultural respect and assimilation but what could this feeling mean to a naturally selfish and indulgent child who continuously seeks out pleasure, who is not yet as socially conditioned to deprive oneself voluntarily of a cool breeze across ones bare skin on an oppressively hot day. The battle played out before me, she pulling up on her dress and her mother pulling it back down to her ankles. Wonder about this struggle for balance in raising own child someday- balance between being modest and unsexual enough to supposedly “successfully” socialize in school and public and their consequent repressed sexuality and shame towards their body. Difficult to imagine raising a child to never even KISS before marriage like they do here!

Later went to market with host sister and bought maybe many mumu’s? Its so freaking hot here every single day! So i now dress often in large batik dresses that are apparently only appropriate for 60 year old sagging grandmothers but could really care less because so much more comfortable!

Then went to Kindergarten Carnaval, which consisted of maybe 80 becaks (bicycle driven little carts that carry people all around town) filled with little kids dressed up so elaborately- mostly in traditional garments of various regions in indonesia but also militia with plastic guns pointed (always disturbing, still want to make giant statue of all childrens' toy guns traded for less violent playthings in form of dove or something – just exactly as typed that fiona apple sang “but then the dove of hope began its downward slope” into my ear—) mermaids, fairies, etc... and they all looked absolutely bored out of their minds. Their parents couldn't get the most of them to even attempt a smile for a picture, and oh the pictures! Not used to having the instant celebrity status suddenly thrust upon me with no validation, no accomplishment, no great good or even scintillating scandal to my name, just the privilege inherent in my nationality and spoken language.

August 1st-20th: Orientation in Bandung or extremophile bathtub superpowers

August 1st – 20th

Ahhh what to say about the orientation in bandung (in West Java, 3rd largest city in Indonesia)? Ridiculous??? So there are 36 or 35 ETA’s from across the country and they are good amazing people. We are all put up in a fancy shmancy hotel, own huge rooms, beds big enough for at least 3 people comfortably, gazing down from top floors on small shacks and shopping malls on street below. 3 weeks, lectures 8 am – 4:30 or so everyday except Sunday and only half-day Saturday.

Mmm this experience was good good talks, not so much sobriety, sleep-deprived, drink coaster doodling during lectures, singing spice girls outside the atm with a very tall boy and a very skinny boy, avocado juice, poolside and bedside guitar jamming, action cat! beers in the bathtub, call to prayer kite soaring sunset serenades, thirty-finger massage, too much time in elevators, daring motorbike dashes to and from cloud 9, snakeskin fruit seed puppets, birthday cakes for obama and boats for friends, delicious warung food, world peace through angklung, swimming lessons, shotgunning beers in front of the circle K across the street is keeping it classy, musical melodicas, bad jokes aplenty, ginger tea, team extreme! nonexistant gay bars, much unpleasant pooing for many, super xtra hot ramen heroes, ridiculous rolling stones cover band, dancing with children, big beautiful whale wives and pocket monkeys, novotel indonesian idol, confessions, fiending for hotel mints, planet earth, traditional bamboo instrument rendition of i will survive by indo high schoolers, fruit bat penises, crazy alien lake complete with actual alien playing the zither and superpower mud, and so much more.

Will elaborate a little on last three:

One day we went to different local schools to get more of a feel for what our homesite schools would be like. There are several different types of schools that we were placed at. SMA’s are public high schools, pesantrans are private Islamic boarding schools and SMP’s are public trade schools. I am teaching at an SMA NU, the NU means it is a public Islamic highschool. Myself and some others teaching at SMA’s went to visit an SMA in Bandung and were enthusiastically received with local snacks, ten thousand pictures, and a student musical performance! See videos if was able to upload them

Kevin, Erica, Erin, Dan and I escaped our suffocatingly shmancy surroundings and traveled by several angkots (small minibuses that swallow passengers until bulging and legs and arms are dangling out of mouth) and buses (some more frustrating than others) to an eerily turquoise alien volcanic crater lake. We rushed past an alien playing the zither in our excited arrival but regretted it later because he had quickly vanished. After some highly rigorous scientific analyses were performed to quantify our possible survival if we were to touch the water or surrounding mud shore (these involved sticks being tossed in and observed with much scrutiny) i fell into the sulfuric alien mud! Though both extremely startling and smelly, it was a small price to pay for the incredible superpowers i now possess. i did not wake up hovering several feet above my high-count linen bedsheets as i had predicted, indeed my superpowers are more of a more subtle variety but super nonetheless.

Oh and we became TEAM EXTREME in honor of the intrepid extremophiles inhabiting the otherwise inhospitable waters.

We also saw a really great performance at an arts center, Saung Angklung Udjo, where they perform traditional Sundanese cultural arts; with traditional circumcision dances (sans the surgery), fierce pupperty, a gamelan orchestra, and ridiculously cute little children who at one point pulled us in to dance with them and together we “promoted peace in the world through angklung art performance”. The angklung is a Sundanese bamboo percussion instrument. They can range from simple single note angklungs to giant ones with many notes. The cute young children played the single note angklungs and at one point handed these out to the entire audience so that we might all play together. this was fairly silly and immensely enjoyable. Songs were perfomed that ranged from the traditional Sundanese to the doe a deer, a female deer, ray a golden drop of sun from Sound of Music, to Josh Groban. The world felt more at peace.

wishes

sorry i’ve been terrible about keeping in touch! Though i am not sorry i have spent so very little of the last month and a half staring at glowing pixels. In last-minute (and you know how literally i mean that) panic - inspired by a desire to be able to independently carry my bags over great distances if need be - i unpacked over 30 lbs of stuff. When it came down to the tent vs laptop showdown, my tiny temple of a tent triumphed. As it turns out i have never had to carry my bags more than 10 ft but this was certainly not the case one hot day languishing beneath bloated bulging bags over neverending cobblestone streets in spain. Anyways, my excuse for my failure to keep you all in the know is my relative lack of internet access but i do get a chance between and after teaching classes sometimes to use one of the computers at my school so do not let me get away with it any longer.

First a wish list:
Just in case some of you stop reading shortly but love me enough to send me a gift across the ocean, i would love to receive books and music. My ipod broke right before i came here so my music collection has been reduced to the random CD’s i was able to burn from fellow ETAs during orientation which are the following:

joanna newsom, old crow medicine show, johnny cash, MIA, sufjan stevens, andrew bird, juno soundtrack, fleet foxes, decemberists, beirut, weakerthans, some death cab for cutie, mt goats, bossa nova, bob marley, neco, broken social scene, nick drake, bjork, thom yorke, lcd soundsystem, and some varied hip-hop.

i am going to be here another 9 months so would love some more variety, you know what strikes my fancy. If you’re unsure, look at my facebook list but i am also down to hear newness.

Books i have: winter’s tale- helprin, the wind-up bird chronicle- murakami, still life w woodpecker- robbins, 100 selected poems – cummings, unbearable lightness of being- kundera, mysterious flame of queen loana- eco, timequake/god bless you mr. rosewater/breakfast of champions- vonnegut, a people’s history of united states- zinn, disgrace- coetzee, mountains beyond mountains- kidder, a portrait of the artist as a young man- joyce, botany of desire- pollan, the snow leopard- matthiessen, the yiddish policemen’s union- chabon, the prophet- gibran.

I finally have the free time to read ravenously so again, see facebook list to see what i’ve already read and what i like or just send me some works you loved. Also am craving some non-fiction, esp. about healthcare, women’s health, alternative medicine and healing, environmentalism, meditation, yoga for beginners, origami and the such.

Thanks! Here is the address:

SMA NU 1 Gresik
Jl. Raden Santri V No. 22
Gresik 61114, Jawa Timur, INDONESIA

and if you have skype or a phone card, i would love to hear your voice

+62.8122.037.2587

Also, come here! Islands of so much incredible lushness, wildness, fiery volcanoes, black white and everything in between beaches, jungles and rice fields, hot sun and giant rain, delicious and dirt-cheap eats, friendly faces, and so on... mmm surrounded by the ocean! So really you should just gulp, buy the plane ticket, and come over here already!

Note: also please forgive the many misspellings and complete lack of a grasp of grammar and some Lonely Planetified sections.

The Journey There, or ghostly swirling thump-thump

(thursday the 31st was swallowed by that beast of time while somewhere over the oceans)

after many inflight movies (why can i not resist them no matter how sleep-deprived?) and many wastefully packaged snacks i arrived in Singapore, Malaysia via Seattle and Tokyo with some other friendly ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) around midnight. We were checked into what would the the first of several ridiculously luxurious hotels to accomodate us in our travels and then a large group of good good people took to the streets. Wandering, forgetting names left and right, flowing between conversations. as the night went on the group dwindled down to maybe six. Armed with surprising snacks and satisfactory spirits we settled on steps aside a river.talked and talked until last sip gone, drifted towards distant thump-thump. Saw a fire in the street, like moths to the flame we draw near and see locals tossing pieces of paper in with apparent intention- we discover that today is a Chinese holiday which offers protection against ghosts and the fragile rice papers sinking into the flames are the spirits of ghosts being kept at bay. Or something like that.

Continued to flow towards beat, everything closed except at top of small staircase we ascend find ourselves in small club with couches facing a stage crowded with women dressed up somewhat like i dream of genie and lazily swaying hips to bollywood beats occasionally flashing seductive looks. John and I stayed long enough for a beer. a flashy live singing man comes out and puts on a show, reaches for my hand and suddenly i am dancing awkwardly and laughing so hard while he sings about love.

Eventually we make our way back to hotel, maybe 6 am? Dove into pool as morning light swirled in, chanted by waters with new friends, floated about blissfully. After breakfast, excursion to the oldest HIndu temple in Singapore, the Sri Mariamman Temple. So many brightly colored sculptures crowded everywhere, gods, plants, and animals clinging to each other on the rooftops, i was reminded of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. New and wonderful friend Kevin and I continued on to Buddist Temple bursting with colors and stories. Then we all piled onto a bus to the airport and on to indo

photo from rebecca miller