Hon, My Hat is Mildewing

One morning this week Jess exclaimed "My hat is mildewing!" as she looked in dismay at her relatively new hat purchased a month ago in Malaysia.  While many things differ between our native Gunnison, Colorado and places during our travels abroad, humidity is one of the most significant.  In Gunnison, new arrivals generally have a nosebleed before their first night has passed given the arid and often frigid environment.  Ever since we were in Northern Australia, we have endured a swampy, hot environment in which clothes (and people) never fully dry out.  Add to the mix our penchant to hang out on the beach in these environments, and our non-synthetic clothes begin to rot!

One such place has been the Philippines.  The Philippines are comprised of over 7,000 islands with a varied people speaking over 70 languages.  The primarily Catholic Southeastern Asian country had an interesting mix of first Spanish then US rule during the past four centuries and the smiling, welcoming, resilient people have elements of those as well as other Asian cultures in their everyday life.

As we have described in earlier posts about other places, our time in the Philippines is a series of contrasting experiences.  We may have days in which we are lounging in a resort environment, drinking fruity, happy-hour concoctions and nursing sunburns from too many hours of glorious, snorkeling adventures.  Then there are days like yesterday....

We began the day as we had the previous ones on Malapascua Island without Internet as a storm had knocked it out almost a week earlier.  We walked across the island following young men gracious enough to carry old ladies' backpacks to a small port.  Really, it was a place on the beach where a half dozen sea captains of local bangkas designed to ferry passengers across the sea lounged about waiting for passengers.  Our captain squeezed two dozen of us onto the wood platforms of his trusty banga and set off for the distant shore just under an hour away.  Nowhere were the common sights of fluorescent life jackets on this boat, perhaps attesting to the unique skills of the teen- and preteen- age boys assisting our captain by pumping out water almost, but not quite, as fast as it entered the engine compartment.  The captain and his crew chain-smoked their way across the Philippine Sea with indifference to either the gasoline fumes or hastily tossed propane tanks piled behind them.  Across from us we watched as two young girls picked lice out of each other's hair, a frequent sight on the island with two thousand residents but no doctor or real health care.  A young tourist joined in the grooming, and as they all flung their invertebrate finds into the air we could only hope we were not directly downwind in our nearby seats.  We arrived on land to clamber aboard a local, non-air-conditioned "chicken bus" as we like to call the busses on different continents that transport people and other assorted goods and farm animals.  These busses stop frequently as drivers compete to see which can get the most people squeezed into a small, humid, hot space.  Sharing seats with several others is common.  As we eyed the girls from our boat ride in their nearby seats, we could not help but check the heads of the variety of children placed adjacent or within our laps.  We almost burst out laughing when we heard from the back of the bus a rooster crowing as dusk approached.

Around seven hours after we set out, we arrived in Cebu City to air conditioning, hot water and a nearby mall.  Somehow the easy access to electricity and water was disappointing after days of rationing each and paying for each kilowatt used after the first one at our lodging on Malapascua. Health care and resources are challenging to acquire on most of the inhabited islands in the Philippines and it is so easy to forget that when we arrive at a place where they are at our fingertips.

Whether we are wet or dry, it is the incredible contrasts of our daily lives that educate us on this global journey.  While we could pay more and travel in relative luxury, we often choose the more local route for the experiences and conversations it affords us.  Our stated goal is to learn with humility (and give with grace) and such is hard to do from a fancy, air-conditioned, tourist transport.

Images are from the Philippines and include our most recent "porch" on Malapascua Island, a typical bangka ferry, and the luxurious Sea Dream resort in Dauin, Negros Island.

Posted in Tagbiliran, Bohol Island, Philippines

Anniversary

We cannot believe a year has passed.  Each day has begun with a prayer.....not generally FROM us, but FOR us and other passengers in the myriad of transports we use.  Whether the drivers are male or female, Buddhist, Muslim, Catholic or Hindu, they pray for a safe journey for themselves as well as for all of their passengers.  And Allah, Buddha, Jesus and Mary must be listening!  We have traveled by banga, jeepney, tricycle, ferry, raft, tube, kayak, canoe, bus, motorbike, and the more conventional planes and autos.  Travel is one of our greatest risks.  The Association for Safe International Travel calculates that we are more than 50 times likely to die of a motor vehicle accident abroad than in the United States.  Walking is not so safe either.  Almost a fifth of all global auto related deaths are pedestrians.  We appreciate all of those prayers and have flung a few skyward ourselves as we teeter on the precipices of roads or wonder why our driver likes to play chicken with large buses and trucks.

The memories from the year are rich beyond our greatest hopes or aspirations.  We have never felt more intensely alive and filled with daily wonder.  Traveling for us has been like a child's first trip to Disneyland.  The characters are bigger than on the little screen and the adventure more divine.  Like Disneyland, there is a wait for the ride, but once it starts, the rules of everyday life are suspended and wonders beyond belief appear at the next turn.

People often ask us what our favorite place has been.  The question is complicated as it is often the people who make the place.  Mate would never have tasted so good unless we were downing a gourdful with Lisbeth, an old acquaintance and new friend.  The spicy, pungent taste of fiery Balinese sauce would have been flatter and less delicious without the company of Wayan and his family; the quiet glory of the dawn kayak less splendid without Irene's face glowing calmly in the early sunrise.

Places speak to our hearts as well, whether we are alone or surrounded by others.  Who can forget the feelings inspired at the first sighting of Machu Pichu?  The tears of emotion were enough to make us realize the place had touched us deeply.  The sheer "hugeness" of the Perito Moreno Glacier, even after having seen magnificent and breath taking glaciers in Canada and Alaska, has stayed with us throughout our travels.  The fact that the glacier is so accessible, talks to the visitors, and frequently calves football field sized chunks of ice all contribute to its special place in our memories.  As a vast, primitive, alpine arctic landscape that makes one feel remote and alone with nature, nothing can top the Dempster Highway in the Canadian Northern Territories.  It teems with wildlife, though viewing any of the creatures is a combination of weather, season, and luck.  The opportunity to swim with creatures as large as three or four trucks lined up end to end has been a highlight of our Philippines travel.  Images of snorkeling with these whale sharks, often referred to as the "gentle giants," will be etched in our memories for the rest of our lives. Whether large as an elephant's, tiny as a baby gecko's, or glowing golden like those of the platypus, it is the eyes of animals that captivate us.  And of course, it is Tamar's eyes, our hitchhiker, that we remember best.


As we extend our visa for a longer stay in the Philippines, we look to the west.  Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Thailand and Vietnam are nearby and the call of Everest strengthens each day.  Summer is hot in Southeast Asia.  We will seek the cool nooks and crannies full of new experiences, unmet friends, and opportunities to learn and grow.

Posted in Moalboal, Philippines.  Images are of our tricycle driver who blessed our trip in Dugamente, our friend Irene Grave, and the two of us moments before we jumped in with whale sharks in the Philippines.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep...

Most of our friends and family know where they are sleeping tomorrow night; however, we rarely do.  And we almost never know where we are sleeping next week!  One of the time consuming challenges of our "homeless" journey is providing for a roof over our heads each night.

Some worldly travelers simply arrive at a new destination, wander around sporting large  backpacks, avoiding touts who might take them to seedier, expensive properties, and check likely hostels as they walk.  We have avoided that method for several reasons.  The first and foremost is carrying heavy backpacks up and down broken pavement and slippery boardwalks in temperatures in the 90's with sweat gluing clothes firmly to body parts is not our idea of fun.  Doing so at night creates an aromatic opportunity for various domestic animal feces to embed in one's only pair of hiking shoes.

We also would miss the valued social networking aspect of accommodation reviews.  We have relied heavily on sites such as www.hostelworld.com, www.hostels.com, (both of which have review, availability and bookings) www.tripadvisor.com (reviews), www.wotif.com (Australia's best site), www.airbnb.com (the most eclectic offering), www.lastminutedeals.com, and www.couchsurfing.com (cultural exchange in a home for a few nights).  In all of these, it is interesting to read reviews of previous lodgers who have posted thoughts on their hosts, digs, local color, food, etc.  We don't use guide book recommendations much as they are often out of date and woefully incomplete.

We seek phrases about the warmth, helpfulness, and welcoming vibe of owners and staff.  We are often interested in meeting other travelers so mention of nice common use areas (kitchens, TV rooms, pool areas) that promote such interactions is valuable.  We are mindful of our budget so price is a significant variable as well.  We prefer homestays, hostels and b&b's to most lodges, resorts or hotels.  We appreciate the honest reviews that mention what a "swell party place" it is, the presence of bedbugs, or have titles like "Never Again" or "I would rather sleep on the street".  If there is a pattern of such reviews, we move onward.  We also take advice from other travelers and find places with no web presence, but which have all we need for a night or two.
The culture that develops around lodging within each country is fascinating.  In South America, most hostels ask for payment and passport before the room has been seen by the visitor, yet bed and breakfasts never do.  In South America and Southeast Asia, some form of breakfast is included even at the least expensive and simplest places.  In both New Zealand and Australia, brekkie is typically provided only for an additional charge, yet Australians always provide powdered coffee/tea with cold, fresh milk, and a hot water kettle is ubiquitous in every room.  Checkout time in New Zealand and Australia never varies; it is always 10 am.  In the rest of the world it varies by place and the whims of local management.

The included breakfasts can vary, but each area develops some standards by which the budget places abide.  Sugary, orange flavored drinks are a global morning fixture as are black tea and instant coffee.  Toast or rolls are common as are butter and jam.  In Asia, many places offer a variation of rice or noodles with a fried egg on top.  In slightly more upscale habitations a home cooked breakfast of pancakes or eggs is common and many places in South America added their own touches of fresh fruit, fresh juice and homemade breads.  In Bali, pineapple and banana pancakes were the norm.  Real coffee is rare most of the places we have traveled, and when Jess spies a place that travelers claim provides it, she usually leans toward booking that space over almost any other criteria.

We have been surprised at other local norms as well.  In Southeast Asia, even nicer lodgings typically combine a toilet with a shower in a space too small for either alone.  Bugs are ubiquitous roommates in almost every place within 20 degrees of the equator while air conditioning is a valued treat and fans an absolute necessity.  Some places have widescreen TV with awesome collections of pirated movies and TV shows while others have a simple book exchange.  In third world countries, exposed wires and stairwells which require four limbs and a rope to climb are the norm.  Most places have little sound proofing but the temptation to wear earplugs is supplanted by the desire to hear the cries of "fire," an inevitable companion to the lack of building codes as plug-in devices strain limited electrical systems.

There is something intrinsically thrilling about entering a place that is surprisingly nice and the explorers in us enjoy finding out what we have "bought into" as we move to each new residence. We have quickly learned to exclaim in delight at a bathroom counter, a rarity even in first world countries.  We have learned to never judge a hostel by the exterior.  Occasionally, we choose poorly which makes a particularly wonderful place so much sweeter.  As is true so much in life, it is the trials that lead to the quiet joy of comfort.

Posted in Singapore, Singapore.  Images are of a typical steep hostel staircase, wonderful banana pancakes in Bali, and the common combination of shower and toilet in small spaces in Asia.  

Would You Swap?

The structure was slowly taking shape as the workers used leaf fiber to secure the bamboo and wood planking to the skeleton already in place.  We stood on the rough sidewalk and watched and were approached by a young man about a taxi ride.  We declined the offer, but struck up a conversation with him about the structure across the narrow street.  Wayan (yes, one of the many) explained that the structure was a cremation tower being built for a member of the royal family.  While no one knew exactly which member of the Royal family had died, the tower construction was the responsibility of a group of families in the town of Ubud, in Bali, Indonesia.  The body will be brought to the tower and placed on top.  The tower will then be carried through town in a procession ceremony, and finally the tower will be set on fire.  As we discussed the cremation ceremony, politics and life with Wayan, we eventually told him how much we were enjoying Bali and what a good time we were having.  We mentioned the people and how friendly they were.  We told him we thought it was one of the best places we had visited on the planet.  A telling moment for both of us came when Wayan asked "Would you swap your life for mine?"  It stopped us dead in our tracks.  As we paused, tongue-tied and silent, he said "I am nothing."

As much as we are enjoying our travels, would we swap our lives with any of the dozens of people we have met along the way?  Many of the people we have met make far, far less than even those considered below the poverty level in the United States.  Infrastructures in many of the countries are extremely inadequate for the masses they are expected to serve.  Even people in first world countries like New Zealand and Australia experience floods, typhoons, earthquakes, and enormous fires and have to deal with the aftermath of those disasters.

This taxi driver is far from "nothing." He was articulate, knew two languages well, was technologically versed, and was thoughtful.  However, his chances of improving his life in a society with a strong caste system and in a country with such poverty are very limited. We like to believe that despite poverty, people are happy.This "Wayan" was not. No, we would not swap our lives....and somehow, that hurts.

Images are of the cremation tower, an egg artist, and rice workers all from Bali, Indonesia

Posted from Sandakan, Malaysia

The Many Faces of Wayan

As we got ready to travel to Indonesia, we experienced a wonderful feeling of excitement tinged with uncertainty.  During our last 10 months of travel, we were able to relate to the cultures and people of the Americas and of New Zealand and Australia.  We either shared aspects of history (English colonies, world war allies), religion or language (or at least some of the language).  But Indonesia, Malaysia and Southeast Asia were big steps into the unknowns of language, religion, and other elements of culture.

Imagine our surprise, then, to learn that it would be much easier to learn names in Bali, Indonesia than in Australia or New Zealand. There are only four names:  Wayan, Made, Nyoman, and Kedut.  The names are in birth order from the firstborn (Wayan) to the forth child (Kedut).  If families are larger, they begin again at Wayan.  The first two names have possible gender derivatives (Gede for a first born male and Ilu for a female; Kadek for a second born male and Nendah for a female.  One of our many Wayans shared with us that having at least four children was common in the past.  He explained as family planning and birth control became accessible in the last decade or so, most
families are choosing to have two children.  The challenge for some families with only girl children is that it is the sons who stay home, building their own home in traditional Balinese compounds, and caring for the family temple.  Girl children move into the compound of their in-laws.  In a culture that centers each day on their spirituality, ceremonies and rituals in temples, it is vital that the family have sons for the daily activity and care of the temple.

We have been awestruck at the central role that Hindu spirituality plays in the lives of  the people we meet.  We have been humbled by their willingness to share in their ceremonies and their activities.  Their religious life is open, constantly prevalent, and rich.  Most people spend up to 20% of an average annual salary of $1,000 to $1,500 on their ceremonies of names, births, deaths, full moons, calendar days, anniversaries, etc.  Everywhere we walk, food and flowers, and the gods that receive them, are omnipresent.

Just when we thought we were beginning to understand Balinese names, we met Agus and Norman today.   So much to learn, so little time till we move on to Borneo and Malaysia.


Images are of three wonderful Wayans we met.  Our most excellent driver and new friend, a young woman at the restaurant of an Ecolodge where we stayed, and the boat captain who took us out fishing near Amed.

Posted in Lovina, Bali, Indonesia

Dusk to Dawn

One wonders what pattern of living you might enjoy if completely free to choose.  We have learned to savor dusk and dawn.  We plan trips, outings, and places to stay around opportunities to enjoy twilight times.  Both dusk and dawn are magical transition times in which one world quiets down while the other awakens.   And as you will see below, all species, including our own, are influenced by these special moments of change as the earth fades from or faces the sun each day.

The best example of such transitions might just come from a tiny mining town, Pine Creek, Australia.  Pine Creek has a few hundred people but thousands of birds and bats.  At dusk, for reasons no one really understands, thousands of birds from dozens of species pour into a few trees in a small park.  The glint of the old dying light shines off the crimson bellies of rainbow lorikeets and transforms the metallic aquamarine color of rainbow honeyeaters to an ocean blue in the last rays of sunlight.  The bird chorus rises to deafening proportions as they cry out their final songs into the night and ghostly bats fill the blood orange colored horizon flying in from daytime roosts.  At dawn, the bats ease away and the birds begin their raucous calls an hour before the first glint of sun fills the morning sky.

It is in places like Pine Creek that we have found a passion that causes us to walk into the forest in the dusk, lights turned off unless necessary.  We have held still for the better part of a night listening for the crackling footsteps of one of the kiwi species to emerge on a moonlit trail in New Zealand.  At dawn on a beach in Australia, we searched for and followed tiny flipper prints of hatchling sea turtles emerging at midnight from a nest and racing toward the sea.  In Costa Rica we walked behind a guide and found three- and two-toed sloths moving slowly through the trees.  We observed vipers poised to strike, waiting for the heat signature of a smaller mammalian prey.  In Australia we snuck out onto a canopy bridge and trail walk and found, to our night adjusted eyes' delight, a glen of Gloworms.  Gloworms are fungal larvae that spin single strand webs dangling their attractive nighttime offer of light to unsuspecting moth prey.  The musky smell of decaying Eucalyptus will be imprinted in our memories along with the sight of their blue green lights glowing softly like a tiny field of stars in the forest.

And it is not only the other animal species that attract our attention from dusk to dawn.  Human patterns of vibrant life differ across the world as well.  In Argentina, we cruise the street at 5 am in a taxi heading for the airport to watch the first customers begin to emerge from clubs and tango joints.  We found out, much to our dismay, that even 9 pm was too early for dinner in many places including a restaurant we loved in Buenos Aires.  Yet in New Zealand, hostels close their doors by 6 or 7 pm and in Australia, even on a Saturday night, the miners in Pine Creek call 10 pm a late night.

We have purchased a strong light to aid us in our nighttime hunts for koalas, spiders, honey gliders and wallabies.  We have spent many early predawn mornings slipping out of hostels or campgrounds quietly and heading somewhere in the dark to watch one world lie down and another awaken, reborn again. As we prepare for Indonesia and Malaysia, we wonder what will emerge in those distant locales at dusk and dawn.

Images are of a sign near Nimbin, Australia; Sally communing with a wallaby in Katherine Gorge National Park, Australia; and of our first Costa Rica nighttime tour guide at Pasion tours, Marcus, who was training a your apprentice on the arts of insect ID.

Posted in Darwin, Australia

Who are you and what have you done with my partner?

We wanted to share a bit about the origin of our most common, almost daily saying.  "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?"

Who are you....

As I reflect on the past nine months, I realize that Jess has changed.  Actually, we have both amazed each other at times with our ability to adapt to whatever the current situation demands.  Jess, however, has slowly migrated from what her family labeled as "messy Jessie" to "neat complete."  This has led me to ask myself (sometimes with great humor) "Who ARE you and WHAT have you done with my partner?"

In our home life, Jess cooked and I cleaned.  That was due mostly to the fact that I neither liked to cook nor wanted to learn, and Jess loved working in the kitchen, creating wonderful and tasty delights.  As we have traveled together, the same has been true, but because of limited spaces and unique circumstances, we have both found it necessary to assist each other in ways that are not familiar to either of us.  Jess's abilities to put things back where they belong, put lids onto bottles tightly, and keep her gear organized have become phenomenal.  Her prompting me to consider doing laundry when a clean change of clothes still exists has been beyond my comprehension.

Our travels together have only solidified my admiration for this person who means so much to me.  Jess has always been an amazing person, with a calm, confident inner strength that most of us can only dream about.  Her ability to handle multifaceted, difficult, sometimes unpleasant, tasks is mind boggling, as is her incredible ability to work with all types of people.  My role in her life has been one of consistency and stability.....a shoulder to cry on when necessary.  Now, as we share the challenges and rewards of our travels, she has adapted to the necessary, immediate consistency of time and place.  As I watch her rinse out coffee and tea mugs before she puts them away in the car, I smile because there will not be coffee stains on the carpet of the rental car, and the cups will be easily found in the morning as we make our travel beverages.

As I smile at the above descriptions, I reflect on how lucky I am to have found such an incredible person.  Her ability to adapt to my peculiar tendencies has been one of the main stays of our relationship, especially during our travels.  As we travel the world, I sincerely hope I can continuously ask "Who ARE you and WHAT have you done with my partner?" as we both learn, grow, and adapt together.



... and what have you done with my partner?

After more than 20 years of living with another, you come to believe that you know them intimately, thoroughly, and can predict their actions and reactions.  Such are the survival skills of partnership.  So you can imagine our surprise as we began a trip together in a space smaller than our closet and our most common phrase quickly became "Who are you and what have you done with Sally (or Jess)?

We surprised each other.  To best explain how Sally surprised me, one has to understand that for most of her life, she has survived and excelled through consistency.  Such a skill can also lead one to be a bit resistant to change, be a little risk averse, and be conservative.  Somehow, after over 60 years of practicing those traits, she has set them aside.  Sally embraced the idea and action of change as we sold or gave away all that was familiar and hit the road. She is always ready each day for a new place or setting, trying a new food or drink, using wifi, playing words with friends, and showing patience with me, even when I move all of her stuff around and forget to tell her where I put any of it.  She is quick to shrug off the small stuff and thoughtful in facing the big stuff.  And she takes risks.  She takes them emotionally, physically, mentally, and financially as we venture forward.  Life is not always easy as memory fails and hard won physical strength fades with age and such can frustrate.  Yet what really stands out is not what is lost, but what my partner gains each day as she faces a night in a new hostel, a steep and uncertain road, or an urban adventure with the keen curiosity of a child again.

I know that people wondered how we might get along given the tight quarters and intense nature of international travel together. Sure, we occasionally need to talk things through and explain what we need if tensions arise, but most days, in fact every day, I am delighted and honored to travel with someone who understands that to live is to grow.

Posted from Nimbin, NSW, Australia