Picture Update!

Some fun kids I met while waiting 4 HOURS for my bus to Sibolga, followed by a brutal rainy and mudslide-filled 6 HOUR bus ride to Sibolga, a crap hotel because I missed the night boat, a 3 HOUR boat ride to Gunung Sitoli on Nias Island, and then a 4 HOUR minibus ride to Sorake Beach - and there I was surrounded by homophobic and racist Kiwis, desperate local hawkers, and a destroyed beach. Excellent decision I made. But these kids' smiles made it worth it. Not really... but I can trick myself into believing that.
Ok, so the scenery at Nias was unspoilt (save coconut tree stumps - center) and gobs of trash (out of frame) whipped up by earthquakes and flooding.
My favorite beach shot of Nias Island.
Yet another animal kingdom coupling caught on film. Doin' it lizard style.
The lovely clear river in Bukit Lawang. We camped next to this for two nights and on the third day rode innertubes down the river back to our guesthouse.
Erwin, the Dutch guy who was on my jungle trek. We then headed to Lake Toba, a lake in a collapsed volcanic crater (background). Here are taking a ferry from Parapat to Tuktuk, the main hangout joint on the island in the middle of the crater (see background, to left).
Typical traditional house of the Batak people, indigenous to Sumatra. It is supposed to be reminiscent of a buffalo.
Here I am being ritually tortured because I pretended to a criminal in a Batak village. If you committed a crime, you were judged by 10 kings, and if guilty, they blindfold you to eat your last meal. Then they beat you. Then they cut you repeatedly. Then they poured salt, lemon juice, chillies, and garlic into your wounds. Then they cut off your head. Finally, the kings and everyone in the village ate your flesh. They claim the last time this happened was 1812 after missionaries from Holland and Germany said it was bad. But today there are no criminals! So says our guide. Sumatra was surprisingly Christian, after a bunch of missionaries made them so. Only Medan, the biggest city, and Banda Aceh are predominantly Muslim.
The view from my porch while staying in Tuktuk, with a view of Lake Toba. I would jump off my balcony into the clear lake for swimming. Perfect temperature.
The famed Petronas Towers. No longer the tallest building in the world, but they say proudly, the tallest TWIN towers in the world.
One of the prettiest birds I've ever seen. At the KL Bird Park. Poor thing is confused and thinks he is a monkey.

KL sunset from the planetarium courtyard.
The 2 meter (6ft) cobra that slithered less than a foot in front of me as I walked to meet my jungle trek guide in Bukit Lawang, Sumatra, Indonesia. This was before I even started my trek!
Cheeky monkey. Orangutans are amazingly human like. Absolutely fascinating to watch.

Good God! It Smells Like Someone is Holding Their Butt Open in Here!

Or Sumatra stinks. I am so unbelievably frustrated by Sumatra, all I can say is I am glad I am out of there. From the durian trees which smell of garbage and rotting flesh marinated in urine to oil palm trees which emanate the worst smell imaginable produced by nature. Roads damaged by earthquakes and covered in potholes and mudslides with huge trucks barreling past you on hairpin turns with only inches to spare between you and a cliff dropping down several hundred feet. Cobras passing in front of your feet on trails. Menacing single mom orangutans that you need to back away from VERY slowly. Guides on jungle treks who spend the whole time on cell phones. Cab drivers and restaurant owners trying to swindle you of every dollar you have left. No VISA, no ATMS, robbery masked as exchange rates.

I will write more later when the lava in my blood is not so hot, because I think I will sear that island if I keep writing.

I am now safe and sound in Kuala Lumpur, and heading soon to Khon Kaen Thailand, and then Nongkhai, my old town, and final stop.

Hope all is well.

Jungle Trek, Jungle Trek, In Bukit Lawang, See the Monkeys, See the Birds, See Orangutan!

Long title, I know, but that little ditty is stuck in my head after three days in the jungles of Sumatra. After a brief flight from KL to Medan, Sumatra, Indonesia, I made my way to Bukit Lawang, a little riverside village famous for its orangutan rehab center. (They tried to make me go to rehab, I said No, no, no!). After a lazy afternoon in my treetop guesthouse, reading the fifth book in the Clan of the Cave Bear series (which is totally addicting if you have not read it) while monsoon rains pounded on the thatched roof overhead and monkeys swung from vines across the river, I ate amazing Indonesian chicken with peanut sauce and fresh veggies, while serenaded by three guitarists and a bongo drummer. Whew! That's a long sentence likely influenced by the Faulkner I just finished, Absalom, Absalom! which I hated until the last 100 pages and now I love it. Brilliant disection of the Civil War and Southernviews on blacks, at the time.

Next morning I was off to my jungle trek with Errrwin (roll the r) from Holland, and guide Johnny, cook Ling, and tagalong Rio. We met a wild orangutan who came down from the trees to inspect us and then played on the vines and showed off some acrobatics. The climbs were a bit treacherous, slimy rocks, steep steps, and narrow paths. I never knew this but rattan (as in furniture you keep on the lanai) grows wild here, and they have 1 inch spikes to warn you not to get too close. I did not heed the warning and my forearm was punctured. But later we saw white macaques, black macaques, and gibbons. These three monkeys are more wary of people than orangutans, so we only saw them high up in trees, swinging about. I learned orangutans are much like people: they gestate for 9 months, stay with mom until about 6-8 years, and live to be 60-70 years old! Then we met a mean old orangutan named Mina. Apparently Mina is a single mom, and lives with no troupe like the others. No wonder she's pissed. We did not run, but we did back up and out of her territory.

Camping at night was rough - lean-to tent with sticks and plastic sheeting, but miraculously kept out all rain, which it did all night long, but starting conveniently just after dinner. And both campsites were by the river, one with a waterfall, so we could take natural showers after the 5-6 hours of rigorous hiking we did each day. Then we rafted down the river on the third day back to the village.

I was supposed to go to Berastagi to climb a volcano, but this Dutch guy and the horrendous bus schedule convinced me to take what amounted to a 9 hour bus ride to Lake Toba, a lake in a collapsed volcano crater, with an island in the middle. Much like Crater Lake, but more vegetation and you can swim here. I plan to relax a bit and then decided what to do next. Maybe that volcano (from here the bus is not so bad) or a nearby beach.

Photos to come soon...

Pictures of Serenity and Debauchery

Well, kids, here they are!

Here is my lovely cell at the meditation retreat. Yes, that's concrete. And yes, the pillow is wooden. The green pile is my mosquito net, which I secluded myself under at all times in my room. I shared my living space with a gecko, two house lizards (about the size of your middle finger), three wolf spiders (about the size of your hand), and a couple moths and fireflies. I smiled as I heard the swarm of angry mosquitos just outside my net. Here is the lovely pond we walked around at night. There were several dozen koi living there, and screaming frogs, and croaking toads, and dragonflies in crayon shades of red, orange, yellow. You could do "fish watching meditation" there during the day, i.e. my head hurts and I don't want to think anymore meditation.
This is the group of foreigners I retreated with. I'm 3rd row, 4th from the right, yellow and brown striped shirt. Some of the people I met on the last day when you could speak were from Israel, New Zealand, Poland, Germany, Washington State!, and Japan.
This is Nathan, who refuses to have his picture taken willingly.
Night view of the infinity pool at Le Orchidee where the model party was.

Me, Nathan, and Patrick, on the deck.

The two on the left, Bong, and Cham, in the middle, were part of the plan to get me to be a model. Just some of the fun had at the party. Naughty, naughty!

I'm a Model and I Shake My Little Tush on the Catwalk

Ok, so I am not a model, but I almost was. As antipodal as you can get from my experience at Wat Suan Mokh was my experience in Phuket. I stayed with my friend Nathan, who is now the project manager for a resort which is being built on a private island just east of Phuket in plain sight of those crazy islands in the James Bond movie, Man With the Golden Gun, you know, Scaramanga's hideout? As of now, nothing exists on the island. It will become a play place for the super rich, with homes starting at $10,000,000 US, not Thai baht. In-sane.

Anyway, we gorged on seafood at a beachside cafe, and then went clubbing on Saturday night to a place called Seduction. Not that seductive of a crowd, though, kinda quiet, but the DJ was thumpin'. Gorgeous place though with red velvet scroll patterned wallpaper and dim lighting that made it look like a Victorian parlor, but updated and sexy. The next day he took me to Sing Cape Beach, a secluded beach surrounded by boulders, forest, and a good 200 meter hike down from the road above on the cliffs. Lovely sand, awesome 6 ft. waves, lounge chairs, umbrella, and a waiter bringing us gin and tonics. Nice.

That night is when the real insanity started. We went to Le Orchidee, a hillside resort with cabanas in Thai style, which shared those infinity pools, so once in the pool, it appeared the water line just melted into the horizon line. And at sunset, the effect was magical. Nathan's friend Patrick is a model and director. He was managing a photo shoot for a Qatar magazine about travel to Phuket. As we were sitting on the deck, all of these models came in from the day's shooting on some local beaches. There was Alma from Estonia, an absolutely gorgeous woman from NE Brazil, and then others from parts of the world I didn't know with names I never remembered. It was surreal. Then the photographer, make-up and hair people, and various entourage entered and it was mass introductions.

Then the place exploded with energy. It was discovered the Brazillian woman needed to get to the airport to make a series of flights to Philippines. But no one ever confirmed or even booked her flight. There is one business class seat left going to Bangkok, but they will not sell it over the phone because the plane leaves in 1 hour. So Nathan, Patrick, she and I jump in Nathan's car, because he knows the roads best, and they are twisty, hilly, and treacherous. We race with great speed to the airport, while Patrick is speaking quickly to a succession of people about the situation. It turns out his friend Bong is coming in to Phuket just at that time. Bong buys the Brazillian a ticket, waits at the airport, we meet them, and the handoff occurs. Bong and his friend May are picked up in the Mercedes from Le Meridien. They race ahead of us, cut us off, and May jumps of the car screaming, Do you have any CDs? I need some house music! We oblige, and head back to the villa. It was the most tension I've felt all trip.

Everyone back at the ranch was upset that it was the Queen of Thailand's birthday, so all clubs in Phuket were closed. So we decided to party there. Electro house was pumpin' on the stereo, drinks were made, the sun sunk into the Andaman Sea, and I just couldn't believe how far I had come in 24 short hours after Suan Mokh.

Then I noticed Cham, the stunning Kashmiri woman who seemed to be running logistics, and the photographer, a Russian guy with Andy Warhol hair, maroon windowpane pants and a wife beater, staring at me and consorting.

I yelled: What did I do?
They replied: You wanna be a father figure?
Me: Huh?
Them: Can you play guitar?
Me: No, saxophone, but that was years ago.
Them: Play the guitar.
Me: I can't.
Them: Just hold it and strum.
So I do as I'm told.
They walk over and say: We want to shoot a guy who is dad to four kids, and he is teaching them to play guitar on the beach. You would be perfect.
(It only strikes me now the balance of compliment to be asked to be a model, at the same time as being told, you look like you could have fathered 4 kids by now!)

So we discuss some details, but then the party moves on, and I don't think about it. We all jump in the pool, swim, and splash. Around 6am, Nathan wants to go home, so we drive back to his house. We crash, and I wake at 11am. I try to see if I can change my flight to Kuala Lumpur, which I had already arranged, to leave that day at 4pm. No dice. I needed to give them 48 hours notice or simply buy a whole new ticket at $130. So I fly to KL, express my regrets, say my goodbyes, and leave my potential modelling career on Thailand's biggest island.

I didn't think until now to ask what I would have been paid, or even if they could have bought me a new ticket. Hell, they thought paying 80,000 baht to rent a yacht for a day was a deal. That's like $2500. But these questions will remain unanswered as I assume my ho-hum backpacker life, and leave the lifestyles of the rich and famous to those with money and fame. Bye, Paris. Hope your prison bed didn't leave any nasty sores.

On the Twelfth Day At Suan Mokh, The Buddha Gave to Me...

Wow.

I just finished a 10 day (really 12 if you count the sign-in day on the 31st of July and the final wrap-up on August 11) silent Buddhist, vipassana meditation retreat. Vipassana is Pali (the language the Buddha used) for mindfulness with breathing, which is the type of meditation they teach there. It is also called anapanasati or concentration with long breathing in and long breathing out. The place is called Suan Mokh, which means garden of liberation and was founded by one of the most venerated monks in Thailand named Buddhadasa Bikku. He passed away in 1994. Now Tan Ajan Poh (Venerated Master Poh) leads the crew of staff there of monks, nuns, and lay people who help out. Other key figures are Tan Mehdi, a 35 year old Thai monk, Tan Dammavidu, a rippingly hilarious British monk, 50something?, and Khun Tanyakhan, often called the Loving Kindness Lady, because she teaches that kind of meditation. It is located about a 10-12 hour train ride south of Bangkok in Surat Thani, the same province the islands of Koh Samui and Koh Phangan belong to, if you've heard of them.

What is unique about this retreat is that they focus strictly on what the Buddha taught (as best they know because his writings often have to be interpreted), so there's none of the animism or Hinduism often found mixed in with Thai Buddhism you see at most temples and on holidays. They have natural mineral hot springs, which are great for relaxing your sore muscles after sitting in lotus position (or something close to it) all day. And you eat only two vegetarian meals a day, which are yummy.

The schedule is roughly this:
4am wake
4:30 reading of some inspirational text for the day and then sitting meditation
5:30 yoga
7:30 sitting meditation
8 breakfast, chores, rest, hot springs
10 Damma talk (Damma is the Buddha's teachings)
11 walking or standing meditation
12 sitting meditation
12:30 lunch, rest
2:30 Damma talk
3:30 walking meditation
4 sitting meditation
5 chanting and loving kindness meditation (this is where you think of people you know like friends and family or people you don't like AIDS orphans who need your love, apologies, or good energy)
6 tea, rest, hot springs
7:30 sitting meditation
8:00 group walking meditation
8:30 sitting meditation
9 back to dorms
9:30 lights out

The only differences were on day 9, we ate only one meal at 8:30 in the morning. And day 10, there was a chance to break the silence and share any insights, stories, or quotes you think the groups would benefit from.

What I experienced is hard to put into words. The silence was not hard, which is what most people ask me first. What is hard is sitting for several hours a day with a couple cushions under your bum, and trying to keep your legs crossed, though they do not make you do this, and in fact encourage you to sit in any position you feel comfortable. They provide chairs and stools for those with back problems or the older meditators. But what really is painful is trying to follow your breath in and out, and think of nothing else. They call your brain a "monkey mind" because it moves from events in your past to thoughts of the future, like a monkey swings through the jungle constantly looking for food. There are 16 steps of anapanasati, which the Buddha said is the way to reach nibbana in Pali or nirvana in Sanskrit. Most people at this retreat are struggling with step 1, following long breaths in and long breaths out with your mind and try to attain concentration. I would say in 60 odd meditation sessions, I was able to clear my mind maybe three times, and I mean for a minute or two when I say "time". But the struggle is what actually helps; one nun recommended that your frustration from not being able to clear your mind is just energy you can use to redirect your efforts into concentration. Nice thought, but didn't work for me.

If you are a meditator, here are some tips I found helped me:
1. For walking meditation, make small circles with your thumbs on the pads of your middle finger. This helps prevent other thoughts from entering your mind.
2. For sitting meditation, first slowly think of each muscle group in your body, starting with fingers, up arms, head, back, back of legs, feet, front of legs, abdomen, chest, face, and head again. Think about relaxing each one. Then start again.
3. Also for sitting, think of a mantra, for me it was different each time, like: 'There is no pain in my knees' or 'My mind is clear' or 'Om' (this one made me feel a little new agey, but it worked once). Then constantly repeat the mantra each time you breathe. It's not to put yourself in a trance or anything, it's to prevent you from thinking of other stuff.

So, now my body feels pretty detoxed, and I am in Phuket visiting an old Thai friend I have named Nathan. Then I will head to Kuala Lumpur. Sumatra comes after that.

I'll upload some pictures later.