More on Bali

Hello again dear blog followers.  I write to you as I take in my last few hours of Balinese sunshine--rather, hide from the sunshine as I still can't seem to spread my sunscreen in an even layer that eliminates patchy burns. Anyway...

As wonderful and luxurious as these last two weeks have been, I am ready to move back to a more structured schedule, so to speak, where I have things I have to do each day, and people that I will be spending more than a few hours with.  I must admit that being the lonely tourist in Bali has worn me down a bit, and I was feeling a bit homesick and quite anxious about aimlessly traveling around.  I grew tired of walking around a town by myself to take in the sights and find the best place to ask for another "table for one." 

To quell my loneliness I tried to make myself busier.  I visited a monkey sanctuary one afternoon.  This was a lush garden park in the middle of Ubud with hundreds of monkeys crawling all over everything, including you if you are in possession of any food.  There are stands to buy bananas so you can intentionally feed them, or they will crawl up your leg to find any scraps you may have forgotten in your handbag. 

I found a wonderful open air yoga studio to practice at.  Classes were a bit of a sweaty mess, considering Bali's humidity and proximity to the equator, but it was nice to practice with other people again.

And I finally found the courage to try surfing. I stopped in at one of many surf shops to sign up for a three hour lesson.  Apparently surfing and snowboarding are pretty similar in terms of finding balance, but my one attempt at snowboarding (during which I spent more time on my butt than on my feet) did not inspire any confidence in my ability to stand on a surfboard. Turns out I am a natural and I stood up right away!  Okay, maybe lucky is the more appropriate word as it took another hour to stand again, and I managed to clock myself in the head twice while pursuing success.  I should also point out that the waves I was surfing on were probably laughable to anyone who actually knows what they are doing on a surfboard, but I don't care...small victories!

My three hours of surfing turned into an entire afternoon playing on the beach with a rowdy crowd of Balinese guys running a little concession stand on the beach. I returned to the same spot for several more days after that, as they made quite an entertaining bunch.  I also found myself on a lunch and dinner date with my surf instructor since I failed to play the "I have a boyfriend back home" card. It was nice having company for a couple meals, but I will not admit to being single again anytime soon...too hard to get rid of the pursuer without being flat out mean.

I finally met another lonely traveler hanging out on the beach as well.  We both lamented the woes of traveling alone on an island seemingly made for groups or couples, and spent the following three days together.  Much of the time we just lounged at the beach which would normally make me crazy, but to do so in company of a friend is much more tolerable.  At night we went to various sleazy night clubs where we sat passing judgment on the other girls wearing dresses so short you could see their underwear (or unfortunate lack of it) and speculating on their loose morals while on holiday.  Sure it was a bit cynical, but at least my only regrets the next day were my unfortunate booze choices still lingering in my stomach and head (keeping me off a surfboard for another day).

Making friends really enhanced the last few days of vacation here on Bali, but I am happy to be moving on.  I will report back soon(ish) on the elephants and whatever else Thailand has to offer.

Your worldly correspondent, Richelle Jean Rothman

Bali

Broome to Bali: Serene Isolation to Jovial Chaos

The basis of this trip around the world (after the NOLS section) was two-fold: 1) to find different volunteer opportunities in different countries and 2) to not plan too much and make choices based on other people's recommendations.  Clause number 2 is what brought me to Bali.  My beloved NOLS instructor Marcelo gave me an entire itinerary should I choose to follow it.  His recommendations were largely based on his love of surfing, but there is plenty for this non surfer to enjoy as well (until I find some cajones to give surfing a try). So far Bali has provided a life of leisure.  I have eaten many delicious meals (mostly of fried noodles and vegetables with peanut sauce), ordered far too many mango lassis (creamy mango drink), and indulged in desserts such as coconut pie and fried banana.  And the cost of fine dining?  Never more than $10, even the night I got seafood as well as a cocktail!  To ease my achy muscles that hauled myself and my 50 pound backpack for many miles recently, I stopped in at a massage shop (one of many that line the streets of Bali as frequently as we see Starbucks in a big city [which they do have here, of course]). The price of this blissful hour of muscle relief (during which the tiny masseur is literally climbing all over you)? A mere $7...it's been difficult to stop myself from going every day, so far I've gone twice.

After sleeping on the ground for 45 days any bed feels suitable for a princess, throw as many peas under there as you want, as long as I'm not sleeping on sticks, rocks, or jagged ground anymore.  I was lured into a fancy hotel the first night--a large brick temple like place with a lush jungle terrace around a clean little pool.  My fancy abode cost me $25, I have since humbled down to $10/night accommodations, giving up the pool, but usually still getting breakfast and an occasional lakeside view.

To fulfill my life as a tourist, I went to visit Tanah Lot temple at sunset.  Tanah Lot is a beautiful stone temple built right on the ocean.  So close to the ocean in fact, that when the tide is high, access to the stairs is under water.  There is some sort of holy snake that hasn't grown in 40 years that makes a highly overrated attraction at Tanah Lot, as well as some holy water blessing that you can pay to receive.  It was all around a beautiful site, and I took a million pictures to try (and fail) to capture the beauty of it.  I did not feel too silly with my camera out the whole time because the place was filled with snap happy tourists. I was not surprised when one family approached me with their camera, so I smiled and nodded "yes, I'll take your picture," but oh no!  I was the tourist attraction, they wanted a picture with the tall, blonde (and for good measure extremely beautiful) white girl.  I have come to terms with the fact that I'm pretty short, so it made me laugh to be called upon for my height.  But the family was very amicable, each member shook my hand and thanked me for being in their picture.

After sunset I went to my first Kacek fire dance performance.  I have since been to another one and as it turns out, they all tell the same story (which I am still not clear on, something about desire and power and spirits?). Of course each performance has its differences, so I was happy to sit through another of the same show where men chant and sing to set the tone, and characters dance around in beautiful, ornate costumes.

On my second day in Bali, I decided to brave (emphasis on brave) the traffic and rent a scooter to get out of Kuta which has a sort of Cancun/Panama City Beach vacation feel.  For a whopping $50 (insurance included) I got myself a scooter for the week and took off for Kintamani, a tiny town on the north side of the island.  These two descriptors did not necessarily help me since I had no idea which way was north, nor we're any signs posted to say "Kintamani, that way." With this solid foundation of information I took to the road, completely making up where I thought I needed to go, until I finally asked a gas station attendant where Kintamani was.  It turns out I was headed the right way, and so my journey continued as such, me stopping every time there was a fork in the road to ask "Kintamani?" "Kintamani?" Everyone was quite helpful and two hours later I was greeted by a Balinese man ready to take me to a room at his hotel, the giant backpack seems to be a dead give away.  He was very helpful, and set up a sunrise hike for me-the reason I came, and the rest of the staff seemed to cater to my every need.  I went to bed around 6 to be ready for my 3:30 am wake up call, and at 4 o'clock I was being led up Mount Batur. It was totally dark, but looking up the entire path was lit by tourists' flashlights.  We got to the top just as the first bit of light was creating silhouettes of the surrounding landscape.  Then the clouds rolled in and we sat in fog for 30 minutes hoping we wouldn't miss the entire sunrise.  Luck was on our side though, and just as the sun was creeping over the horizon the clouds began to part (sporadically, but enough to offer amazing glimpses of the sunrise).  Once the sun was up and the clouds cleared the view was amazing for a breakfast of eggs and bananas cooked in the steam pockets of the volcano (did I mention Mt Batur was a volcano?).  Sunlight made the hike back down a breeze and I was back in my hotel by 9:30 with the rest of the day ahead of me.  I was sad to leave the friendly staff at my hotel, but I was out of things to do in Kintamani so I hopped back on the trusty bike and headed south to Ubud. I was hesitant to stop as Ubud is recently famous for being featured in 'Eat, Pray, Love,' but after a few hours I began to warm up to the less chaotic, party vibes of Kuta, and the less isolated feel of Kintamani.  I don't know what else I'll get up to in my next week in Bali, but hopefully find the courage to surf and relax a bit before heading to Thailand where elephant volunteering and farm work await me.  Until then, Namasté.

Australia!

Hola blog followers,

You can breathe again...I have survived!  And now I can begin the lively accounts of my trip around the world.  Much has happened since my paradisical layover in Hawaii, so let me recount to you here my Australian adventures with NOLS (the national outdoor leadership school) in a short story:

So when I left the most I could tell you was that I was going to Broome on the northwest side of Australia to go backpacking and sea kayaking.  If you asked me a question I gave you a non committal "sure." Let me fill you in on the facts.  Broome is a small city built on an industry of pearl farming where the base for NOLS is located. We arrived to base and dove right into organized chaos of measuring out and packing all the food into bags, unpacking everything we thought we needed, eliminating a bunch of stuff, buying a few extra oddities, repacking all of our downsized gear.  Interspersed with all this chaos was a concise briefing of where we were going and what we were doing, and an awkwardly quiet lunch with the group of people we were about to spend 45 days with.  For evening entertainment we went down to the ocean and watched the full moon rise bright and orange.  The reflection it cast made it look like a step ladder leading to the sky...a pretty amazing site to set high expectations for the adventure.  

CHAPTER ONE: SEA KAYAKING

We went to bed early to get up at "sparrow's fart," an expression of earliness based off the fact that it is so early sparrow's are not yet singing.  So we piled into 2 small, cramped cars and got cozy (mind you we were still complete strangers) for a 10 hour car ride to the Dampier Archipelago.  Apparently even in a tiny rural town the middle of nowhere requires a trek to get there.  But it was so worth the drive!  Dampier Archipelago is just off Mordor, a giant natural gas plant whose existence goes against all of the NOLS principles (Leave no trace, respect the environment, etc.).  The silver lining is this gas industry drives away tourism and these beautiful islands are completely isolated.  We jumped right into the kayaking.  We learned how to escape the kayak should you cap size and roll over and then took off right away down the coast to a sandy cove to make camp.  We spent 14 days kayaking across the Indian Ocean around the islands of Dampier.  We camped on beaches and enjoyed a beautiful sunset every night as we got to know everyone in the group.  Now this was also a school, so we did have to have classes, but class on the beach and under the stars makes a pretty surreal learning environment, especially with our entertaining instructor team, Sam and Sally.  After two weeks I gained knowledge on leadership styles and first aid procedures, Aboriginal history, a basic idea of weather patterns, knowledge of tides, currents, waves and seamanship, I learned how to kayak surf in the waves, and gained the ability to bullshit about stars in the southern hemisphere (meaning constellations were pointed out to me which I pretended to be able to see in the sky).  One lesson of this section I had to learn the hard way: do not get between the kayak and the beach.  This was a fun lesson in the strength of the waves as they push the kayak to the shore and your legs will not stop that.  Fortunately I am a quick learner, so after getting bowled over a second time by a kayak, the lesson really stuck.  Besides that painful pair of incidents this section of the course was absolutely ideal!

CHAPTER TWO: BACKPACKING

When the first section wrapped up we climbed onto a small bus for the ten hour ride back, this time a little less cramped and a little less awkward (minus the hour I spent bawling between my peers as I finished reading my book 'Brother, I'm Dying,' I still don't understand why no one wanted to borrow such an obviously joyful book).  We arrived back at base for more organized chaos of unpacking our stuff, downsizing even more, repacking, and catching a brief slumber before heading out at 7 am for an additional 6 hours in the bus to a different middle of nowhere--The King Leopold Ranges of the Kimberly.  We had new instructors to get to know and loads more information to take in.  Scott and Marcelo were another awesome pair of instructors, and they somehow managed to teach us more first aid and leadership, and a basic concept of topographic map reading so that even I can make sense of all those squiggly lines known as contour lines.  These lessons weren't just for us to have an idea of things, we were preparing to be sent on our own student lead expeditions for five days (after just 3 weeks of learning to live in the bush).  We had to be proficient in administering first aid because we had no phones on these individual expeditions, and even so an ambulance wasn't a possibility.  If a serious injury occurred someone from the group would have to hike an additional number of miles to hopefully catch up with the instructors who could then call base to send a helicopter that day or the next to med-evac the hopefully still surviving patient.  If not that we had some gps signal contraption that would notify the Capitol that there was a distress signal coming from the Kimberly region.  The Capitol would have to call the police station to let them know about the distress signal, the police would then notify NOLS who would confirm that there were hiking groups in that area and then a helicopter would come.  Yes, these are super dramatic scenarios which fortunately did not occur, but that's what we were up against.  Proficiency in map reading was also important so that we could find our way back to where we would get picked up.  It is also a delicate art being able to find the line between knowing your exact coordinates on the map, knowing sort of where you are and where you are headed, and just being completely lost.  We had some individual test days before being sent on an entire week on our own, but the test runs we're shaky: one day we completely missed the "x" and camped in the wrong gorge, another day we couldn't quite identify where we were and ended up ascending and descending three or four additional hills because we were just a half a km north (or south, I never quite figured it out) of the ideal, planned route.  Still, Scott and Marcelo deemed us ready to take on the outback on our own so we split into two groups and navigated 60+km (36 miles) in five days on our own.  We came so far from the first few days which were between 4-6 km and we thought that was impossibly difficult, to cruising across 12km at the end of our trip, even doing 17 km one day.  As a Colorado snob, I was originally thinking we weren't covering that much distance "I hike all the time, at altitude! I'll be fine." I did not really factor in the additional 40-50 pound pack I would be carrying, and the every day aspect of it--no flopping down uselessly on the couch all day afterwards, just another day of hiking.  Additionally, there were no trails for us to follow.  We crossed a variety of terrain with a great deal of waist high grass and shrubbery as well as numerous rocks all over the ground for ankle twisting and loss of leg control causing you to flop sideways into the brush.  Oh and of course the different elevations we dealt with--many hills to go up and down.  It was a balancing act: making sure you looked up to take in the beauty of your surroundings, but looked down at your compass and map to stay on course, but looked up for identifying land features, but looked down so you wouldn't fall on your ass.  I never mastered that art, but the falls almost always inspired laughter rather than anger or distress.

I know I've already rambled on quite a bit, but please bear with me...I've been gone for 45 days!  If you keep up your reading stamina, you will find some lovely anecdotes about other specifics of the trip, and hopefully it will draw a few chuckles out of you.

CHAPTER 3: ANIMALS

I had a really, really strong desire to see a koala because they are just so darn cute.  Unfortunately, they don't live on the west side of Australia so they remain a zoo creature to me.  The other Australian oddity, the kangaroo was plentiful.  On my first day I saw at least 20 kangaroos.  They we all dead on the side of the road, but it was still a bit of a novelty. Fortunately for me (and the roos) there were plenty more live ones to be seen.

Sea kayaking offered an abundance of creatures just floating about in the wild.  On our first night out a pack of dolphins swam up and leapt about in the bay.  Another day a shark swam along the shore just at my feet.  Many days we spent kayaking through the mangroves where giant green sea turtles (just like the Finding Nemo variety) swam about poking their heads up once in a while.  One morning we walked across a reef while the tide was out to look at-but not touch because everything here is potentially deadly-animals. Sam came across a giant crab (bigger than my face) out there and brought it back for lunch.  It was incredible to get this food straight out of the ocean, watch it cooked over a fire, and enjoy the freshest, most delicious crab ever without all the waste that goes into a mediocre replica at Red Lobster (sorry if that bit was too pretentious). He also picked up an octopus, to use for fishing, which I got the chance to hold and catch as it moved like flubber with suctions to try and get away.  I was allowed to touch this creature because Sam caught it and he knew that it was the harmless variety, not the blue ringed octopus which lives in the same place but will shock you or poison you so that your lungs do not work on your own and then you die.  We also came upon a number of sting rays and manta rays, but as long as you shuffled your feet as you walked they swam away instead of shooting you with their deadly stingers (RIP Mr Irwin).  No other big life threats on the water, it was winter time so the deadly jellyfish weren't in the area we cruised through.  Many beautiful fish lived at our finger tips, and the number of birds would just bowl the Rothmans over--so many loud, beautiful cockatoos flying about, numerous as pigeons, and a handful of pelicans to scare Holly away.  It was pretty incredible to be living out there among all this wildlife that most people will only ever see at a zoo or at sea world.

Hiking through the Kimberly brought much wildlife as well, and many more life threats, but the way we lumbered through the area probably scared off a majority of the animals.  Like I said, a good number of kangaroos bounded around the area, but they are shy and nocturnal creatures.  Since 7pm was a late night for me, we never really got a chance to strike up a friendship.  We became well versed in how to treat snake bites-there are like 70 of the poisonous variety in Australia-but I never did see any of them.  Nor did I ever see a dingo...heard one though.

The other creature we were to be most wary of due to the abundance of their poisonous variety was the spider, but I didn't see too many, at least not too many that looked threatening.  The biggest nuisances were the flies, the ticks, and the green ants.  The flies don't bite but they constantly swarm you and land everywhere, lips not excluded.  Ticks, the same tiny creature that sneaks all over your body as at home.  Fortunately they don't carry Lyme here and you can enjoy each tiny bite and tiny itch without panic.  Last nuisance: the green ant.  They make their nests in leaves where you don't notice and as soon as you brush past them they are all over you with tiny jaws of steel they use to pice your skin and hold on tight.  I was able to get my revenge on the green ant because their tiny green butts are edible: you just bite it and it is a zingy/citrusy burst of flavor (okay, I was too weirded out to eat an ant butt so I just licked it...same effect). 

Potentially the scariest animal we came across was the crocodile.  There are two varieties of croc: the salty and the freshy.  Both crocodiles can live in both salt water and fresh water.  We checked each pond that we swam and drank from and didn't have any problems.  I almost stepped on one hiding in a little pool we were crossing one day.  Luckily it was a freshy, the nicer croc that only attacks in defense.  The salties are the crocs that will stalk and hunt just for the kill.  We had to cross a couple rivers guaranteed to have salties.  While scoping out a good place to cross, we saw a little fellow swimming along (probably with lunch on the mind).   We carefully pursued a croc proof crossing and did not fulfill his human quota for the day.  Another night we were planning to sleep on the beach next to the river but as I was brushing my teeth I shined my light into at least 3 pairs of croc eyes.  There was debate about whether they were salties or freshness and whether it was safe to stay on the beach.  Considering it was still a crocodile and I was about to slip off into a land of unconsciousness, I high tailed it back through the shoulder high shrubbery to set up a fairly uncomfortable last minute tent far from any hungry crocs.

Australia is a marvelous place full of many exotic and dangerous animals.  But when do you suppose I was most scared for my life.  Surely you would have guessed that it was the day we encountered a cow.  Yes, it was an angry bull that gave me the biggest scare.  We were casually crossing a field when he set his eyes on us.  He did not want us to cross that way so he started making angry cow noises and hoofing the ground with open hostility.  We followed wild cow management 101 and kept eye contact, did not run/move suddenly, and made loud noises.  We spent 30 minutes screaming, chanting and even singing at this bull until we admitted defeat and hid behind a rock for 20 more minutes until he forgot about us and we could discretely back track and slink away unnoticed.  I have never had the urge to pursue bullfighting as a profession, but life thought I should really feel it out.  As fun as that encounter was, as well as several other similar yet less dramatic episodes in cowland that day, I maintain that I do not wish to become a matador or a rodeo clown.

CHAPTER 4: FOOD

Oh the delicious food.  We measured everything out the first day we were there, but I didn't quite take in what I was seeing: carbs, sugar, carbs, starch, carbs, and the other snack oddity (like tuna packets).  Now, I've come to be a bit snobbish about food.  I appreciate a certain quality of ingredients and favors.  Not all hope was lost, we got some fresh foods each ration and the occasional curry packet for good seasoning.  But two onions, one green pepper and some broccoli only goes so far in a group of four people burning insane amounts of calories hiking with 50 pound packs each day.  And the good seasonings were used up in the first few days so that the end of the week meant ramen noodles with mashed potatoes in a slop reminiscent of that 2nd grade lunch lady delight you had hoped to forget.  Yet despite this appealing description the food was always devoured (with liberal amounts of garlic salt).  Unfortunately I succumbed to some vicious heartburn on this diet, so to the delight of my cook groups I always had to plead "can we please leave this bland food bland because I am an old man with heartburn radiating out of my ears.". I am sure they loved that, but they were quite accommodating.  I may be over dramatizing a bit, we were creative enough to make pizzas and calzones, cakes, cookies, cinnamon rolls, and some pretty decent curry dishes.  I am glad to be back in a land with access to fresh fruits and veggies!

CHAPTER 4: LNT POOPING...a crude chapter about shitting in the woods

Everyone poops.  If that makes you uncomfortable feel free to skip to the next chapter, but don't worry, I will not be detailing any specific BMs, just the basics of LNT pooping.

LNT: leave no trace.  There are some guidelines to pooping in the woods without leaving a trace.  Learning these guidelines from a man you just met in a formal class about pooping is hysterical.  I hope a bit of that hilarity comes across here (if you read this section in an Aussie accent, that may help).

Basically you have to dig a hole 6-8 inches deep.  If on the ocean, dig the hole below high tide line.  If near a river, go far enough away so you do not contaminate the water source (which is more about principle since you are already treating your water for bacteria from the ever present cow shit). You use neater as your toilet paper: smooth rocks-no jagged edges, coral-nice and porous, drift wood-larger than leaves which are not recommended due to the possibilities of rash from the plant, and not having a large enough barrier between hand and bum.  Upon finishing it is recommended that you use a stick to stir your poo with the soil which helps expedite the decomposition of fecal matter exponentially.  You then fill in your hole and cover it with leaves so no one could ever guess which corner of nature you used as your toilet.  Now that you are familiar with LNT pooping, I encourage you to sit back and relax the next time you are on a toilet and appreciate that you didn't have to plan 20-30 minutes ahead of when you would be able to poop.  You didn't have to make sure it was still light enought that you wouldn't lose camp when you went to the bathroom.  You didn't have to tell someone "Hey I'm going to take a shit.  If I am not back in 20 minutes I may be constipated, but send a search party just in case." You didn't have to suit up in socks, boots and gators so that wouldnt get a snake bite (on your feet-your bare ass could still be vulnerable).  You didn't have to traverse waist high grass, brambles and branches to find a remote toilet. You didn't have to spend 15 minutes crouched down digging a 6 inch hole in rock solid dirt.  You didn't have to squat over this tiny hole on tired legs that had already carried you and your pack so many miles that day. You didnt have to use rocks or sticks as toilet paper. And you didn't have to wash your hands by carefully administering liberal amounts of soap to just enough water to rinse it away, not wasting too much drinking water.  Just think about that the next time you casually sit back on the porcelain throne and flush away your worries.

CHAPTER 5: HYGEINE

When I first returned to Broome I was proud to boast that I had used shampoo once in the past six weeks, and that was the earlier side of the expedition.  Now, I know I am one of your dirtiest monkey friends, but even I was missing the regular use of shampoo.  I did 'bathe' throughout the course: during sea kayaking I was in the ocean every day for a daily salt bath--better than none.  While hiking it was highly encouraged (one small step away from forced) that you bathe daily for the sake of your tent mates.  The bathing however was not always ideal.  Several sites had luxurious waterfalls to shower under.  Most were shallow pools with large quantities of algae that left you curious about whether or not you were actually cleaner. I spent much more time standing outside of the pool debating getting in than i did in the water, but i always got in.  One day we spent far too long convincing ourselves bathing was necessary and fried our shoulders, packs felt good for the next few days. There was also the important bath time ritual of croc checking each pool to make sure you weren't hopping in with any beasts.  We didn't lose any great pools to crocodiles, but we had to abandon one excellent, deep pool on account of the kangaroo floating face down in the lagoon (poor little guy). For the sanity of my own nose I snuck in deodorant and it was worth the 60 extra grams I carried each day.  Being back in civilization I am happy to return to a healthy habit of showering at least once a week! ;)

Well blog followers (Mom and Dad), thank you for powering through my novel to find out what I've been up to for the last month.  It was a truly amazing, challenging adventure, and I'm kind of impressed I survived.  The rest of this trip should be a breeze.  From now on I will try to post more frequently, which will hopefully result in less lengthy entries.  Sometimes I just have really important things to say.

I bought my next plane ticket today, I'm headed to Bali tomorrow, time for a bit of vacation and to figure out what is next in somewhere a bit more affordable than Australia.

Much love and I miss you all!

Richelle Jean Rothman