Bula Fiji

Bula Fiji

“Bula!” The Fijian word for ‘hello’ is as infectious as Hawaii’s ‘Aloha,’ and said with the same cheery, Southern Pacific smile. As I landed at Nadi’s International Airport, after 24 hours of transit with no sleep and three flights, I decided I had chosen a pretty great place to spend my last week of my travels. I was greeted with a blast of warm tropical air and Fijians working at the airport wearing grass skirts and playing the ukelele – a little cheesy but hey, it added a nice touch. 

After fending off the taxi drivers and trotting out the front of the airport to catch a bus that I wasn’t even sure existed, before I could even figure out which side of the street to wait on I heard a voice yelling “Lautoka?” out of a minivan. “How much?” I asked. “2 dollars!” “Okay!” And the next thing I knew I was in the van and on my way. Easiest (and cheapest) airport transition ever. 

The drive to Lautoka, about 40 km north of Nadi and on the opposite side of Suva, the capital, took about half an hour. The views were gorgeous – bright green volcanic mountains on the right and sparkling blue ocean on the left. It reminded me a lot of Oahu, and I was struck by how untouched the land seemed to be – I barely saw any villages, just luscious green fields – sugarcane, not rice this time. The van was playing  island-y songs, and everyone was wearing bula shirts - a kind of wide patterned print, again very similar to aloha shirts but with a special Fijian touch. The men also traditionally wear the sulu, a long wraparound type skirt (pictured below). Welcome to Fiji!

Bula shirt and Sulu skirt.

Lautoka was my destination based on a strange series of networking and dumb luck. I had been searching for some volunteer opportunities throughout my travels, and grew frustrated with the options limited to either long term commitment, unreliable scams, or expensive, ‘packaged volunteer vacations’ which seemed to completely defeat the purpose of volunteering. I just wanted to show up, do some work, preferably with kids, and experience a new place in a different way than how I had been traveling. The Google search ‘volunteering in Fiji,’ on my last attempt after many frustrations, ended up leading to a travel post by a current volunteer at a daycare center, whom I then contacted, received a reply and a contact number, called the center via Skype to ask if it would be okay if I came to help out for a few days in November, and she said yes. And that was that.

Lautoka was a great experience – not a touristy town at all, which made it a much better experience. I had landed myself there the evening before Diwali, a Hindu festival and national public holiday in Fiji due to their large Indian population, which meant that the evening before was filled with an excitement of people getting off work and preparing for the holiday. I found the daycare just a little too late past their closing hours, and then discovered it would be closed the next day due to the holiday. My walk around town took about 20 minutes – not much to it, but I had fun poking around the supermarkets and people watching, listening to everyone wish each other a Happy Diwali. Most conversation was conducted in English, as it is the common language between the Fijian-speakers and the Hindi-speakers. I learned that the Hindi language is actually Fijian Hindi, not the same as what they speak in India, though it was derived from Indian Hindi when they brought the Indians to Fiji as contract laborers in 1874. Since then, the Indian population has grown and developed into a part of Fijian society, though unfortunately it hasn’t always been a harmonious relationship. There have been three military coups since 1987 in Fiji in response to an Indo-Fijian domination of the government, and in some parts of Fiji tensions are still high between the two races.

But, luckily, there was no tension at the daycare center I was lucky enough to volunteer at. There was a cheerful mix of Hindi , Fijian, Muslim, and even an Australian child who didn't care about anything except having fun together. The center is actually an early childhood learning center, so in addition to watching the children while their parents are working they work on songs, rhymes, teaching English (most kids grow up speaking Fijian/English or Hindi/English, or sometimes a mix of all three), and other early learning skills. However, the week I was there I was lucky enough to help out with rehearsals for the annual holiday concert in December. Performances included Christmas carols, rhymes, a drama, and lots of dancing.

Christmas carols practice.

Practicing dance moves for the holiday concert.

At the center I was fortunate not only to be accepted by the kiddies, but I was welcomed so warmly by the women working at the center - I had so much fun with them and they taught me about Fiji, their variety of cultures, the cuisine, and the ins and outs of running a center. We also had tons of fun with the kids - reading stories, doing Zumba, playing games, and munching on fresh mangoes from the tree outside the front porch made the week pass by way too fast. It was so nice to have tasks to do each day and feel like a part of something again after three months on my own. I wished I could have spent more time there but it was closed on the weekend and since I was flying out on the following Tuesday I wanted to be closer to the airport. Therefore, on Saturday morning I made my last bus journey before the trip home - I traveled from Lautoka to Nadi Bay, to park myself at Bamboo Hostel for the weekend. Bamboo turned out to be one of my favorite hostels of all time, and was the perfect place to end this leg of my journey. 

Why did I love Bamboo so much? Well, for starters, this was the road that led to it:

This was the beach right across from it:

This was the daily schedule:

Please note: at 2:00, the sign says 'lovo making,' not love making.
Lovo is a traditional Fijian dish. Sorry.

This was what we did all day:

And this was the best part: 

Bamboo had the perfect travel hostel atmosphere - everything ran on 'Fiji time,' and every morning we all sat around the cafe area and ate delicious cheap food for breakfast while asking: 'so what are you going to do today?' "Beach." And beyond that? "No plans." I got extremely lucky with the company at Bamboo: everyone got along, people shared travel stories, met up for meals, went to the beach together, took naps in the hammock, played volleyball or ping pong, read in the sun or the shade, maybe took the bus into town, or just sat and chilled. Even though we didn't do much of anything the warm, sunny days passed by quickly. One of my favorite parts of the day was going mango hunting. Bamboo had four mango trees on their little property, and I happened to arrive during peak ripe season - they kept long sticks and a mango catching pole lying around for people to pick them whenever they wanted a snack. I was thrilled about this situation, but anytime I tried to hit down a ripe mango the Fijian workers would see me trying, then come over, shimmy up the mango tree like nobody's business, and knock the ripe ones down before I could even say "thank you." I felt a little bad because I was perfectly happy doing it myself, but hey, I got some very tasty mangoes out of the deal. Win.  

In the evenings, as the schedule indicated, we all sat around in a circle and did some chatting while passing around a bowl of the traditional Fijian drink, kava. It's a very strange experience to describe - it looks and tastes like a bowl of watered down mud, but then it gives your tongue and mouth a very tingly and buzzing feeling. It's not a drug, but it has some 'relaxing and sedating powers.' It made for a fun evening and a strange, yet appropriate considering the balmy weather and palm trees, bonding method

And then, before I knew it, it was the day of my departure. I was so excited yet also sad to leave Fiji and Bamboo. I felt like all the homesickness and anxiety had evaporated, leaving nothing but excitement and anticipation. I was going home, after two years and nearly four months. I had just completed the trip I had been dreaming about since I was young, with added adventures and new friends beyond my expectations. 

Stage 1: Southeast Asia - check!

Stage 2: Minnesota for two months! 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

ANZAC

My two weeks in Australia were a wonderful welcome back to the Western world, and a necessary transition to make. The biggest element of shock that I received was actually facing the prices – the Australian dollar was just as strong as the US dollar, and prices were really really high – we’re talking $3.50 for a can of pop at a gas station, $3.00 for a small bottle of water, and $4.00 for a muffin at any given café or coffee shop. And just in case you’re not convinced, a grande Starbucks brewed coffee at $3.60 was the cheapest I could find, as any given small espresso or latte was $3.50 or $4 for a much smaller amount of coffee. Having just come from Asia, this wasn't fun. I wasn’t prepared for it, but I did welcome the option to finally go shopping at a Western grocery store again. Enter three weeks (New Zealand was similar pricewise, but a little better) of eating hummus, veggies, canned fish, granola bars, nuts, and fruit. Sounds sparse, but it was actually wonderful fun for to me to be able to eat these familiar foods again. 

I hit up three cities in Australia, and one in New Zealand – flying back and forth between them all, due to the cheaper prices (honest!) of budget airline flights compared to the Greyhound buses or long distance trains. I didn’t get to see as much of the landscape as I would have liked, but for saving money and time it was ideal. As always, I’ll just have to come back to see what I missed the first time around.

Cairns

The Lagoon

If you are a young backpacker coming to Australia on a one year work visa and you like to party, I’d say Cairns is the place for you. Cairns (pronounced ‘cans’ with an Australian accent) is a beautiful little town with a plethora of restaurants, cafes, coffee shops, and bars. There’s a nice shopping mall, a beautiful harborside street called the Esplanade, and a public pool called The Lagoon located right on the edge of the water, where everyone hangs out and lays out in the sun on the grassy grounds. There are lots of free things to do and options to stay active, as well as a fantastic place to base yourself to get out and discover more of Australia from, namely the Great Barrier Reef. That was my primary purpose for coming to Cairns. 

My hostel was typical backpacker, and I shared a room with three other people my age, all on working holiday visas. I discovered that for Americans, (similar for other Western countries too, I believe) you can pay about $200 for a year long visa to live and work in Australia. With a minimum wage starting at about 15 dollars an hour, and so many hospitality jobs available as long as you can speak English, I’d say that’s a pretty good deal – if you shared accommodation or lived at a hostel it would be easy to either work and save money, or use your money to travel more around Australia or Asia. Definitely a good option to keep in mind.

But, I only had one thing in mind in Cairns and that was to get to the Great Barrier Reef. After making prior arrangements through an excursion company, I left for my day trip bright at early at 7 am. It was a beautiful morning, nice and sunny, with a cool breeze. I had signed up for my first scuba dive experience, so after the safety talk and debriefing I was suited up, strapped in, and thrown in. Not literally. The scuba gear was much heavier than I imagined, and I actually had a bit of a panic when I first started out – I’m used to holding my breath underwater, not breathing normally. The ear pressure was hard to get used to at first too – I wasn’t a fan of scuba diving for the first ten minutes. But then we got  further down and I had my first glimpse of the reef from below.

The way I like to describe what I saw is “like being inside the Discovery Channel or National Geographic.” It was unreal how many colors and fish and different kinds of sea life there were. It was difficult to maneuver with all the scuba gear at first, and I kept losing my guide because I couldn’t stop looking up close at the reef. It was an incredible experience, and I was lucky enough to have an underwater camera to use for pictures and video. We surfaced after about 15 minutes, with our guide monitoring our pressure and depth for safety. After surfacing we traded gear with the next group and were free to snorkel around on the surface of the reef – just as fun to get even more up close on the surface. 

After lunch (my first time having cold cuts in a long time, just in case you were interested) we had a second dive. On the second dive I saw a clownfish (left) and anemone,  schools of fish, and a giant clam that snapped open and shut when we touched it (right). I couldn’t have asked for a better GBR experience, nor for a better first time scuba diving. Unfortunately, there is truth in the reports that the Great Barrier Reef is disappearing due to a series of events (I just Googled it and found a bunch of recent news reports – the disappearances are credited mainly to cyclones and a certain kind of destructive starfish), so I can only hope that there will be a positive effort to preserve this natural wonder so more people can have the same experience.  

Sydney

Next up was Sydney. I absolutely loved the city. I found no apparent faults with it, and it’s the first place I want to go back to if I return to Australia. It’s a stunning city, blessed with natural beauty, a cosmopolitan population, and the excitement of a metropolis. 

The first boatload of convicts was shipped to Australia as a result of the American Civil War, when the Brits basically ran out of places to put them because they had to go fight the war. The people were brought over for small petty crimes, such as stealing loaves of bread, but nevertheless they were imprisoned and sent to Australia in order to ‘straighten them out.’ The idea was to transform the convict colony into a settlement decent, hardworking citizens. It mostly worked – but the main  problem was that in order to create this ideal society they felt that the natives, the Aboriginal population, needed to be either pushed off their own land or exterminated. 

The Rocks

So, between the tensions with the Aboriginals and the poorly treated convicts, Australia got off to a rocky start. In fact, the historical district of Sydney, just to the left of the harbor, is called "The Rocks," now a lovely historical district with nice restaurants, shops, and cafes. Real estate runs pretty high in The Rocks, and there are numerous attempts to preserve and protect Sydney's early history.

Beautiful Bondi Beach

View of Sydney Harbor from the bridge. 

In Sydney pretty much all I did was walk around. I had the great fortune of being connected up with friends of a friend, Joanne and Stuart, who were fun to meet up with and kind enough to show me around a bit. They let me tag along on their "Sculpture by the Sea" walk, an annual outdoor sculpture walk that hugs a three hour stretch of Sydney's coast, starting at Bondi Beach and ending at Cogee Beach. My first glimpse of Bondi was breathtaking - I knew the name but hadn't ever seen pictures, therefore wasn't prepared for the view. I learned that on Christmas Day hundreds of residents come to Bondi for a barbecue - Christmas is during the middle of the summer weather in Australia.



The day after our walk, Jo met up with me in the heart of Sydney - the CBD, or Central Business District. To me, the best part of the CBD is Circular Quay, the ferry docks of Sydney Harbor. Standing at Circular Quay railway station, you are facing the water, with the beautiful Harbor Bridge (and The Rocks historical district) on your left, the Sydney skyline behind you, and the iconic Sydney Opera House and Sydney Harbor on your right. It's stunning. To me, everywhere in Sydney, especially if you are blessed with nice weather, as I was lucky enough to be, is picture perfect. It's just impossible to take a bad one. We walked around the harbor, The Rocks, and even went up on the Harbor Bridge (where the picture on the left was taken from) to get breathtaking city views.


The rest of the CBD is filled with, as you can guess, skyscrapers, which at street level turn into more shops, cafes, restaurants, hotels, buildings, you name it. Pretty typical city stuff. I remember waking up early on a Monday morning and walking my way down to the CBD from my hostel, joining the throes of businessmen and women on their morning commute. Correction: businessmen and women exercising on their morning commute. I had an added bonus to my morning people watching session: the exercise/commuters. There were people walking to work in tennis shoes, jogging with backpacks (most likely filled with business attire), biking with backpacks - I even saw one guy with a suit coat hanging on a hanger attached to his backpack. It was great fun to observe. It had been my first time in a big Western city for a long time, so to see familiar routines like morning jogging in T-shirts, going to work in workout clothes, walking with a large cup of coffee, riding bikes, etc., actually made me feel closer to home. Even though geographically I'm pretty sure I was farther away than ever.

Syndey has tons to do - you can take ferries all around the harbor, go to the beach, join all the avid exercisers for runs in the beautiful parks, workout in the outdoor exercise facilities, do adventure sports, shop til you drop, walk around and gawk at things of your choosing, go to museums, eat ethnic food from almost any country in the world (only a slight exaggeration), you name it. One of my favorite afternoons was spent wandering around the harborside, looking at the shops and the boats coming in, then making my way up to the Opera House and actually walking around the perimeter, just to get a closer look, then walking a few hundred yards down the road from the Opera House to reach the Royal Botanic Gardens, 30 hectares of beautifully maintained grounds. People were laying out in the sun, reading books on benches, strolling, having picnics - it was wonderful to see them enjoy and appreciate such a beautiful part of nature in Sydney. By the time I finished walking around, the sun was setting, so I parked myself at Mrs. Macquarie's Point, a part of the RBG that Mr. Macquarie, one of Sydney's first governors, designated as a perfect viewing point for his wife, Elizabeth, and even . She must have been a pretty special lady, because this was the view she got to see each evening from her own personal point in Sydney Harbor (minus the bridge and Opera House, I suppose.)

Melbourne

I went to Melbourne simply because I was told I should. I knew it was a city and I had heard it was the more ‘cultural’ city in Australia, so based on reviews from a couple of friends I decided to check it out after Sydney. With luck, I happened to be in Melbourne at the time of the Melbourne Cup Carnival, the second largest international horse race in the world, which made it an exciting and busy weekend to visit. I stayed in Brunswick, a little suburb north of the city center that was easy to get to by train, tram, or walking. 

Melbourne, formerly the capital of Australia when it was first granted independence in 1901, was a gold rush town, and it grew at exponential speed in the 1850s, earning the nickname ‘ Marvelous Melbourne.’ This was when the infamous Sydney vs Melbourne rivalry grew, a competition which actually spurred the original idea to build a landmark that became the Sydney Opera House after Melbourne hosted the 1956 Olympic Games. Today Melbourne has only expanded and developed upon its original wealth, with a magnificent skyline and Central Business District centered around the Yarra River. It was a fun city to walk around in, explore, people watch, and experience. A relatively new city, it still retains its wealthy beginnings, which is evident in the beautiful Victorian architecture all around the neighborhoods and districts. It is also a very diverse city, with a prominent Chinatown, Greektown, and pretty much any kind of ethnic food you could want.  

At the hostel I met a lovely Japanese woman who became my Melbourne buddy for the week - we visited the zoo together, because I decided I had to see a koala and a kangaroo in Australia. The Melbourne Zoo was also very impressive - there was a lot of emphasis on wildlife protection and preservation, and the exhibits had a lot of interesting information about Australia's native creatures. My absolute favorite part was the koala bear exhibit - we got lucky and found them during the four hours they stay awake during the day - all four of them were pretty lively and active - they jumped around from branch to branch. They were so adorable I felt I could have watched them all day. After the zoo we went downtown, took a walking tour together, and enjoyed exploring the CBD of Melbourne. I found the city very easy to walk around and enjoy - one of my favorite buildings was the iconic Flinders Street Station, below, built in 1905.

2012 marked the 151st anniversary of the Melbourne Cup Carnival, a five day event that includes the 3,200 meter race to win the Emirates Melbourne Cup, also known as "the race that stops a nation." We enjoyed the parade downtown the day before the race, which represented the sixteen horses, trainers, owners, and jockeys for the sixteen horses participating in the race, and then on race day we headed to the CBD to join the crowds of people tuning in to watch the race in the afternoon. One of the best parts of the race atmosphere was that everyone who goes to the races dresses up - the men in suits and the ladies in stylish dresses and (our favorite part) hats. It was so fun to take the train into the city on race day and catch everyone taking the train on the way to the racecourse - we people watched for about a hour.  The sports bar we went to was packed, and sure enough the atmosphere grew more exciting as the race time grew closer - you can see everyone tuned in (see the hat on the bottom right) and getting ready to watch.I didn't place any bets or have any horse to cheer for, but it was exciting nonetheless. Congratulations to Green Moon, this year's Melbourne Cup winner. Cup Day was my last day in Melbourne, so after watching the race and saying goodbye I took the Skybus out to the airport, to depart for my second to last destination, Auckland, New Zealand.

Auckland

I’m including Auckland in here because now I can explain the title, ANZAC, which stands for Australia and New Zealand Army Corps. The ANZACs were the 'pride of the Pacific' during the First World War, which was when they both distinguished themselves as separate nations from their mother country, Great Britain, during the 1916 Battle of Gallipoli in Turkey. They came back as national heroes, and even today “Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand, originally commemorated by both countries on 25 April every year to honor the members of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC).” (Wikipedia).

However, though the remembrance of the Anzacs unites Australia and New Zealand, (according to some Australians I asked, they have a big brother-little brother relationship like the US and Canada) and they have basically the same food and accents, that’s pretty much where the similarities end.

For example, I came to New Zealand thinking the original inhabitants were pretty much the same, but I was quite wrong – New Zealand’s Maori tribe echoes the Polynesian Pacific Island cultures much more than Australia’s Aborigines, who have been natives of Australia much longer than the Maoris have in New Zealand. Also, unlike in Australia when they basically just took over everything, New Zealand's first white settlers actually drew up a contract with the Maori tribe (although it must be said that the Maori and the English translations are slightly different...guess whose favor the treaty is in). I actually found this website to illustrate some more fun facts and differences between the two countries, if you're curious.

 I enjoyed my visit to the Auckland Museum, with really impressive displays of Maori carvings and housing structures, along with tribal artifacts from all the Pacific Islands that we hear about in travel promotions, such as Tahiti, the Cook Islands, and Samoa. The top floor of the museum was dedicated to the war history of New Zealand, which wasn’t much, but more than I had realized – there was a New Zealand Civil War with the Maoris when they first arrived, they they helped fight in the Boer War in South Africa, WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and were involved in a few other global peacekeeping issues.

But enough about the history – of all of my trip, New Zealand was my biggest regret, simply because I didn’t plan well enough for it. By the time I got there I was out of both time and money so I didn’t see anything beyond Auckland. When I was planning, I knew it was supposed to be very scenic and beautiful, but I decided I’d rather be interested in people and cultures on this trip, and didn't think I'd be as heartbroken to miss more of the country than I actually was. But, the good news is - I can always go back. And now I have a better idea of what New Zealand is about and what I want to do next.

View from Mt. Eden

I still got to see some beautiful parts of the city and get a feel for the country. The city itself isn't very big, about 1.4 million people, which is one third of New Zealand's entire population. As always, the best views are from above - I spent a beautiful morning hiking up to Mt. Eden, a sunken volcanic crater, for some lovely pictures and a great view of the city, which as you can see is built around the harbor. The city is nice to walk around in and explore, but not overwhelming like some big cities - there are tons of ethnic restaurants, cute little shops, cafes, and restaurants. I was lucky enough to time my visit out to be there when a friend of mine from my university swim team was studying there, so I was able to meet up with her a few times to hang out and catch up - at that point I was getting pretty homesick, so it was great to meet up with someone familiar. I also had my first Korean food outside of Korea since leaving - it was pretty good but nearly three times the price as in Korea, sadly.

Another highlight of Auckland included running along the harborside trail (pictured) in the afternoon - I didn't realize how beautiful the water would be so I didn't even have my camera along - the iPod doesn't do it justice. Across the harbor (not pictured) is an island called Rangitoto, also a volcanic island, which is popular for hiking and was actually the location for part of the filming of Jurassic Park, I learned.

"The Cloud"

This is another view of part of the harbor - the funny white thing is a venue called "The Cloud," recently built, which echoes a part of New Zealand's early history. When the first Maori tribes arrived in New Zealand, they came in canoes, and had no idea whether they would find land or not when they had to leave their former islands (most were usually kicked off by losing to cannibalistic tribes - leave or be eaten...tough life.) So, after long days at sea, their fates unknown, all of a sudden before they could even see New Zealand, they saw a long stretch of white clouds, for which they praised the gods because that meant there was land nearby. They named it Aotearoa, or ""the land of the long white cloud." The Auckland Airport has a beautiful cloud statue suspended from their ceiling as well.

The Domain was the last part of Auckland I explored - a large public park area that included the Auckland War Memorial Museum, the wintergarden greenhouses, sports fields, and beautiful grounds for strolling and enjoying nature. Fun fact: "The Auckland Domain volcano, Pukekawa, is one of the oldest in the Auckland Volcanic Field...Originally, the crater floor was filled with a lava lake, which the western half collapsed slightly and became a freshwater lake which later turned into a swamp, before being drained by Europeans for use as playing fields and parkland. These origins are still somewhat visible in that the Duck Ponds are freshwater-fed from the drainage of the crater." (Wikipedia) Call me ignorant, but I actually had no idea that so much of Auckland was built upon volcanic remains. It was really interesting to learn about at the museum - I guess I must have fallen asleep that day in Earth Science after a morning swim practice.

So, Auckland, much like the previous three cities in Australia, was made most enjoyable due to its natural beauty and accessibility for walking around and exploring. I spent most of my days outside wandering, even though a few days were even too cold for me back in Melbourne. Due to cost, I avoided most of the museums and attractions, choosing to enjoy the city life as an observer instead - people watching, grocery store and tourist shop wandering, and coffee shopping all made my time in these two countries more fun. I learned a lot from people I talked to and books I read along the way - I'd love to go back to both countries to do more, learn more, and see more, as always. Both Australia and New Zealand were wonderful introductions back into the Western world, and it was nice to once again be back in familiar feeling territory (hence the grocery store wandering). I haven't decided yet if it helped or hurt with reverse culture shock, because I think it triggered early onset homesickness, but also helped ease the transition back to the West. My last stop, Fiji, was kind of a mix between the two - it wasn't Asia, but it wasn't quite the West - but either way it was a wonderful place to end my trip. That one is up next - the last travel post of 2012. I hope you're all enjoying the holiday season!

Bali

Hey everyone!

                I’m a bit late in writing about Bali, as I’m already in New Zealand…but better late than never right? Bali seems like a dream ago, but my tan lines and special souvenirs still remain with me as reminders (including the scar I now have after slipping on sand during a run and skinning my knee.)

                How was Bali? In a word, magical. Like, Eat, Pray, Love kind of magical (no, I didn’t fall in love…but it would be a great place to!) When I arrived in Bali I was coming off of about three weeks straight of sleeping in a different bed (or bus) every night. After a whirlwind zip through Malaysia, and 36 hours of travel (subway, bus, plane, bus, train, train, ferry, bus, taxi) because I wanted to do the trip overland from Jakarta, I was ready to CHILL. And chill I did.

                For three days I stayed off the Internet and did nothing but run in the mornings, drink pots of Bali coffee for $1 and eat fresh fruit while reading, take naps on the beach, swim, and walk around. I read five books and ate about as many mangos a day. The food was excellent, and very cheap – I had fresh fish, veggies, and Indonesian food for roughly $3 a plate, adding on a bowl of fresh fruit for another dollar. It was wonderful.

                However, I didn’t really love Bali until my fourth day there. I stayed primarily in Sanur, which, while perfect for chilling (and sunrises, being on the east coast), was pretty quiet and very touristic. I relaxed on the beach with retired couples and families instead of drunken partiers, which was a nice change. But, I hated always approaching the sellers on the side of the road as I walked by, hated always being asked if I wanted ‘transport?’, and hated always saying ‘no thank you’ to “madam, massage?” Plus, I didn’t feel like I was really experiencing the culture or learning more about Bali. I decided I needed to get out. On my fourth day I rented a motorbike for my second wheeled adventure – this time to Ubud, Bali, made famous by Julia Robert’s escapades in Eat, Pray, Love.

               Ubud lived up to expectations. It was adorable.  Getting there was a little more difficult than when I was in Thailand, due to busier roads and crazier drivers, but I made it. The whole drive took about an hour, and once I got off the main highway I was able to appreciate the beautiful scenery – palm trees, green fields, and fresh flowers everywhere. Ubud used to be the royal capital of Bali, and today it remains well preserved and a hotspot tourist destination, due to its beautiful temples, the former Royal Palace, and now its many adorable cafes, restaurants, and handicraft shops. It’s also quite popular for yoga enthusiasts, health retreats, and spiritual centers. Pretty hard to beat. My primary destination was to check out the used/exchange bookstore in Ubud, so after parking myself there and scoping out the titles, I walked myself around town to explore a little bit. I discovered the Monkey Forest, the Royal Palace, ate some yummy Indonesian food, and then took a more scenic route back on the bike – code for ‘I got lost but ended up seeing some really cool stuff’ – through the rice paddies and small little towns on the back roads of Bali.

I like to think back to that ride home, because that was the moment I really fell in love, as the sun was setting over the rice paddies and all I could see were rolling green fields, beautiful stone temples, and a colorful array of flowers everywhere I turned. It was like intruding in on some sort of spiritual Eden. A book I read (from the Ubud bookstore, no less) talked about how the Balinese culture is still very strongly influenced by Hindu traditions and rituals, and “for the Balinese, protecting the environment is a holy duty in applying the Hindu doctrine. People and the environment cannot be separated and always depend on each other.” As a result, everywhere is beautiful.

This spirituality is also evidenced by the effiges placed at every doorstop, front porch, and even taxicabs every day. According the same book, the Balinese take the words from the Bhagavad Gita very seriously: “Whoever wholeheartedly presents to me [the gods] the leaves, fruits or water, offering underlied by love and holy mind I will accept him gladly.” Therefore, every temple, gateway, even roundabout in Bali has some kind of spritual manifestation, from the black and white checked cloth draped on most statues, to the flowers that decorate them. I felt my role as a tourist/intruder more than ever during my time in Bali, just because they continue their traditional way of life with such respect and devotion while tourists bumble about, half clad and sunburnt, ruining their natural canvas of beauty.

I say that…but then I went to Kuta. Kuta was a world of difference from sleepy Sanur. To explain, when I say ‘Kuta’ to most Australians that’s like the equivalent of saying ‘Cancun’ to Americans. It’s party central. It’s loud, it’s full of backpackers, it’s an experience. I learned that Kuta is part of the old hippie backpacker ‘Golden Triangle’ of Ks: Kathmandu, Khao San Road (in Bangkok), and Kuta. I’d say it fits the bill pretty well. Now, you’d probably wonder ‘why would you go to a place like that if you could stay in Sanur?’ Well, besides the curious desire to see it, I had one main motivation to go to Kuta, and I’m afraid I’d have to say it was worth it…the beach.

Kuta Beach is one of the best coastlines I’ve ever seen. It’s stunningly beautiful, with warm blue-green waters, soft white sand, and though I’m not a surfer, even I could tell that the waves were fantastic. I had a happy beach session just laying in the sun, watching the surfers (I saw a guy do a headstand on his surfboard!) and enjoying the beautiful scenery. My peace was shattered when I got about 20 feet away to the beach road by all the sellers and taxi drivers calling out, but by then, the day before I flew out, I just started repeating to myself “I’m leaving Asia tomorrow. I’m leaving Asia tomorrow.”

And then, tomorrow came. It was my last day in Kuta, my last day in Bali, my last day in Asia. At first, and when the sellers were being particularly annoying (‘darling, I give you good price!’) or I had to face a squatter toilet, I was glad. But then, looking back, I was also sad to leave – I had a wonderful two years and three months in Asia. I traveled far more than I could have ever imagined I would, I made amazing friends, loved my job as a teacher, and, most importantly, I learned. I learned so much, about myself, about my country, about the world, about Asian history, culture, lifestyle, food, you name it. Asia was the commencement of my ‘world education,’ as I like to call it, and it was a great place to begin. From start to finish, it was an exciting, liberating, educational experience that I’ll take with me forever, in more ways than one. I can’t begin to decide what my favorite country was, or my favorite part, but I know I want to go back to every place and see things I didn’t have time for the first time around…which I definitely won’t have time for in my lifetime, but I can always keep dreaming.

Bali was a fantastic way to end my time in Asia, and that’s also what made it so special for me. It was a culmination of some of the best elements of Asian culture, set in one of the most beautiful islands in the world, and filled with a sense of Balinese vs tourist, tradition vs modernity, East vs West. To me, especially all of my Asian historical studies, that’s the prevalent question regarding modern Asia – how far can or should Eastern culture go to emulate Western culture before it disappears? Should parts of Eastern culture be changed to Western culture? Is one better than the other? From a traveler’s perspective, I have come to respect Eastern culture the more I learn about it, at the same time becoming more frustrated because I realize what can’t be changed.

But I can’t just discuss this from a tourist’s point of view. From a global citizen’s perspective, I have seen firsthand how more serious elements of East vs West need to be addressed. Effects of Western colonialism and imperialism, issues such as women’s rights and protection (basically nonexistent in parts of Southeast Asia and South Asia), poverty, disease, and hunger are all major issues that become more complicated when factoring in the embedded Asian cultural elements, such as male dominance, that not only contribue to these problems, but make them more difficult to solve. For example, how can you stop an arranged marriage if marrying someone richer will help the daughter provide for her parents and siblings and fulfill her duty as a daughter? Or a father selling his daughter to traffickers posed as ‘job agencies’ if he is doing it to feed his family and he truly believes his daughter is going to have a better life than he can provide for her?  Is it the duty of the West to step in and ‘rescue’ these people, at the cost of changing their traditions and lifestyles? Will we destroy the diverse differences between East and West to impose Western culture, even if the imposition is in the name of basic human rights?

These are difficult situations and questions – I get it. And they’re not fair for anyone involved. But they’re very real for millions of people - issues I’ve become more aware of and have kept in the back of my mind while living in and traveling through Asia. Now that I’m leaving I hope to continue to search and learn in order to find the answers.

Never stop asking questions, never stop seeking answers, and never stop learning.

                To end this post on a lighter note, and jump back to the tourist perspective, I’ll share a list with you that I started compiling in Southeast Asia, probably during particular moments of frustration or annoyance. I kept it on my iPod, and even though I’m about three weeks too late, I’ll share it with you now.

Top Ten Signs I’m Ready to Leave Asia*:

*Please note how many of these involve using the bathroom.

10. I automatically put the toilet paper in the bin instead of flushing it down the toilet. I get confused when there is no bin.

9. Squatter toilets don’t phase me. Western toilets excite me.

8. The words ‘same same’ and ‘America’ are a part of my everyday vocabulary.

7. If my bus arrives or departs on time I’m pretty skeptical.

6. When I order black coffee and receive an Americano I just sigh and accept it. Just like when I bite into something thinking it’s chocolate and discover it’s red bean paste.

5. When I speak English it’s reduced to grade school level. Example: “In Korea, I was middle school.” Translation: "I taught middle school in South Korea."

4. I don’t feel the need to take a picture of every spelling error I see anymore because there are just too many. If things were spelled right it would be weird.

3. I get excited when I don’t have to pay to use the bathroom. Or if there’s soap. Or if the door shuts properly. For that matter, I get excited when there actually is a door.

2. Toilet paper is a novelty – something worth announcing to other English speakers upon discovery in the bathroom. Needless to say, I have become a stealthy napkin hoarder.

1. I’m so, so, so sick of white rice. Bring on the bread!

Malaysia

After spending nearly two weeks in Thailand and consuming as much coconut as possible, I finally had to say goodbye to the girls and break away to head south. In Krabi, I spent a night bumming around the night market until it started raining, then settled in for a night in my guesthouse. The next day my only task was to get to Hat Yai, a town about four hours from Krabi, so that I could catch my 4 PM train from Hat Yai to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. And I blew it.

I had been waiting for something to go wrong for about two months now, and it finally happened. I had been too dependent on the Internet, and when it said that buses leave every hour from Krabi to Hat Yai I figured a 10 am bus would be sufficient to get me there by 2, then I could park myself at the train station until my 4 pm train. Sounds good, right? That's what I thought too.

I showed up a little after nine, learned that there was a 9:30 bus, but that it was full, and the next one wasn't until 11. Yikes. I told the lady at the station about my train and she suggested I take a minibus that would leave at 11, which would be a little faster and could take me straight to the station - I would have plenty of time. The price was just a little higher than the bus so I said okay, time was more important anyways. But at 11:05, when the minibus still wasn't there, I realized my mistake - I was too spoiled from Korea's efficiency that I forgot about the Asia time golden rule: expect things to be late and slow. I was screwed. Plan Bs started frantically running across my mind, as the minivan finally showed up and departed at 11:30.

To the driver's credit, he drove pretty fast, though I suspect it was to impress the girl he seemed to be flirting with in the front seat. I tried to tell him I had a train at 4 and he pretended to understand me, but that was  clearly not the case as he turned left towards the bus station instead of right to the train station (thank goodness the signs were in English). 

I burst into the train station at 4:05, holding onto one last hope that the train would have arrived late from Bangkok, but no luck. It was gone. I asked up front but there were no more southbound trains that day, and my ticket was bought via Malaysian railways so they couldn't change it there in Thailand. He suggested catching a bus to the border town in Malaysia, 30 km away, where the train would be stopped to take a break for an hour and I could catch it there, but by the time I got to the bus station I wouldn't have had enough time to get through immigration. Breakdown time.

Breakdown was also due to the fact that I was running on about two hours of sleep and I had so been looking forward to my nice comfortable train ride. But, I had to get myself to Malaysia either that night or the next morning. I ended up walking by a travel agency and decided to chance asking about buses to KL. Turned out he had one leaving in a half hour, though I'd be arriving in KL at about 4 am - I knew I couldn't catch a bus to Malacca, my destination, that early. But, a quick Google search said that the bus station I'd end up at was central, so I could easily get to the light rail, and it was a nice new facility - I figured I'd be safe there for a couple of hours until the lines started running. 

So with that, I took the risk and paid up, then blew my remaining Thai money on junk food because I felt sorry for myself. Things perked up when I boarded the bus and discovered I had my own private aisle seat - even if I didn't sleep, at least I wouldn't be creeped out by my seat mates (don't worry, I'll spare you the stories.) And then, approximately three hours after I arrived at the train station in desperation, I was off to Malaysia.

I awoke bright (it was actually dark out) and early at 4 am, and instead of getting dropped off at the nice new bus terminal I had been expecting to chill out at...it was the roadside next to the terminal, and the terminal wasn't open. Rude awakening. Enter the 24 hour KFC across the street, with wifi as an added bonus. I parked myself in the back, near some solo women who were doing the same thing - at 6 am there was an exodus of people leaving to go catch the public transportation that had started running, myself included. 

After going the wrong way approximately four times between KFC and the bus terminal I had to get to on the light rail, I finally made it to the correct bus station ad bought myself a four dollar ticket to Malacca, only a two hour journey away. Then it was coffee time. 

The bus ride to Malacca was really pretty, with endless fields of coconut palms and bright green hills. Apologies for the picture out of the bus window. Once I arrived there, my last task was to get myself to the hostel - one more local bus ride took me right to the heart of the old city - Dutch Square. 

I liked Malacca immediately. It was clean, adorable, historical, and a UNESCO World Heritage city at that. You can imagine my delight, especially when I looked at a map and discovered ten museums within a mile radius (including the Museum of Numismatics and the Museum of Stamps...thrilling). I was excited. I checked into my excellently located hostel, got an orientation from the slightly oddball owner who either had a perpetual winking problem or just felt a wink should be added to every sentence, and took off to explore.

The day was super hot but brilliantly sunny, and as I walked around to take pictures before the museums I stopped to read all the historical marker signs along the way. So here's some history. The sleepy little settlement of Malacca (Melaka in Malaysian) was founded in 1403 by a Indonesian dude, and within the next century it grew to become one of the richest, most famous port cities in the world. Situated between mainland Malaysia and across the way from the Indonesian island of Sumatra, the famed Malacca Straits also happened to provide an excellent haven for seafaring traders who had to wait out the change of the monsoon winds. By luck and chance, the traders who got stuck in Malacca ended up liking it so much and were treated so well by its people that they stayed a while, and it became a primary stop along the trade routes. At first it was just Javanese, Chinese, Indian, Arab, and a handful of other Asian traders, but soon the Portuguese caught wind of the famous Malacca...and then they got greedy.

The Portuguese originally showed up in Goa, India, to get their hands on spices and goods for trade, but in the early 1500s they showed up in Malacca, and decided they wanted it for themselves. Begin over five hundred years of foreign occupation. Once the Portuguese conquered Malacca in 1511, they forced hundreds of slaves to build an imposing fort, the remains of which are still around here and there (pictured). The Dutch soon got wind of Malacca's prosperity and decided they wanted a piece of the action, too. So, they took over in 1640 and clearly decided to make the town as cute as possible. They did so with raging success, but their dominance only lasted a couple hundred years until the British, who were busy colonizing upper Malaya and working their way down, ended up taking it around the beginning of the nineteenth century. 

Dutch Square

The British capitalized on their rubber tree empire in northern Malaysia while hanging out in Malacca and Singapore until the Japanese bombed and invaded both territories in 1942. After the Allies won it back, power went back to the Brits until 1948, when the Federation of Malaya was proclaimed, followed by complete independence in 1957. History lesson courtesy of my notes from three of the aforementioned museums. 

The Straits of Malacca

And today Malacca is ruled by...tourists. But it was a nice change to be alongside Malaysian tourists, not just other white and Asian people. I wandered, took pictures, poked in the shops, and hung out with a Dutch girl from my hostel, and then it was time to say goodbye. I also had the pressure of my Fulbright application to finish up that evening in KL, so I needed to scope out options in case my hostel didn't have a solid internet connection. Silly thing to worry about, isn't it?

Unfortunately, I arrived back in Kuala Lumpur in the middle of a rainstorm, which continued on into the next morning and caused me to miss out of seeing pretty much anything beyond the bus station, that lovely 24 hour KFC with the really friendly worker girl, and my hostel. But the good news is, I can always come back. I did manage to sneak out at night in between the rains and Fulbright and try Malaysian satay, see a bit of Chinatown, and see the tops of the LK tower and the Petronas Towers. And I finished Fulbright, at about three in the morning. AND I made my plane the next day, despite three changes in public transportation. So life was good, despite a rushed Malaysia experience.

Actually, within about two hours into Kuala Lumpur I decided that Malaysia is the country I want to come back to for further travel the most. The islands on both the west and the east coast are supposed to be really beautiful, and through a series of misfortunes I just seemed to keep missing parts of it I had been looking forward to, especially in the north. So, this trip was a nice little introduction en route to Bali, and now I know what to do when I come back, along with whatever unexpected surprises will come my way. 

Last glimpse of Kuala Lumpur

I'm on the island of Bali now, folks, so I hope you enjoy your weekend! Take care!

Koh Phi Phi

Koh Phi Phi is probably the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen in my life. I still think the beach on Boracay Island, Philippines, is the winning beach, but Phi Phi (pronounced fee fee) takes the cake for island beauty. Its karst topography resembles Halong Bay in Vietnam, but when sticking out of the middle of crystal clear, aqua blue waters instead of green…it wins again. The water, the palm trees, the hills, the bay, the beach – KPP has it all. I actually hadn’t been planning to visit any of the islands in Thailand on this trip, but when the girls, who were flying out of Phuket a few days after Bangkok, decided they wanted to return to Phi Phi, I made a split decision to tag along with them, even though I only had two days to do it before catching my train to Malaysia. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

So, we took our final overnight bus journey from Bangkok to Phuket, during which I watched 'The Beach', with Leonardo DiCaprio, on my computer. I hadn’t seen it before, but I knew it had been filmed on the island Koh Phi Phi Ley, which is only a km or so from Koh Phi Phi Don, where we were headed. Ley is actually a national park, so no one is allowed to stay there other than campers, but it’s popular to take boat trips over to Maya Bay, where The Beach was filmed. The girls said it was a pretty overrun touristy boat trip, however, so when someone pointed out the TINY little white strip that you could see as we passed KPP Ley on the ferry and said that was Maya Bay, I decided that was good enough for me. But I’m getting ahead - the movie definitely got me excited for the island, and I had no idea how beautiful it would actually be in person.

In the morning we crossed the tiny little land bridge connecting the island of Phuket to Thailand, and then it was just a short journey south to the ferry terminal. We bought our tickets and boarded the two hour ferry to the island. We took advantage of the ride to sunbathe and meet other travelers. It was a perfect, sunny day out and the water was a deep, intense blue, which only heightened as we got closer to the island. We turned the corner around the rocks and…there it was.

The little town was adorable – dive shops, souvenier stalls, guesthouses, and restaurants. We stayed in a dorm room hostel for about ten dollars, a place the girls already knew about. Did you notice the almost triple jump in price from the place Sara and I stayed in Koh Chang? The price of tourism to pay. After dumping our stuff we – what else? - hit the beach.

I won’t torture you back in MN and WI right now with more description – just know we had a fantastic beach day, which led into a fun night out, both bar hopping and on the beach, where fire dancers and all night DJs lit up the night all the way into the early morning.

The next day I had to go. That sucks, I know, but I still had most of the day to enjoy the beach and hanging out with the girls. I had debated staying one more night but it would sacrifice one day of Malaysia, which had already been shortened as it was, and I knew it was time to move on. I said goodbye to the girls, who turned into wonderful travel buddies and friends since the day we met in Vietnam. We’re now discussing the possibility of doing South America together – I already have my ticket, so it’s just a matter of them deciding to come along.

With that, I left them in probably the best place you could ever say goodbye, picked up my stuff, and set off for the ferry pier. I was on my own again, and now I had a little over five weeks left of my trip. I spent the ferry, which I took to Krabie, not Phuket, just sitting, listening to music, and watching the sunset over the water, thinking about all I had done and seen. It was still just a little too far away to start thinking about home, but still too sad to think about Korea because I missed it so much. I had plenty of recent memories to start thinking about instead. However, I was now over halfway through my dream trip – I only hoped I was appreciating it enough as it passed by like lightning speed.

Goodbye Thailand!