April in twenty-six paragraphs

Well apparently blogging regularly isn't my forte, but anyone who knows me and my habits of procrastination shouldn't be surprised. And in my defense, is has been a busy month. I’m Borneo-bound tomorrow and, fueled by mini eggs left over from a very un-Eastery Easter, I plan to bring you all up to speed on what's up in Asia (so if you’re looking for a long distraction from work or studying, this post is for you).

So let’s back things up to about four weeks ago. My two-week visa run kicked off with an overnight train ride from Malang to the nation’s capital, Jakarta, with Margit, Sarah and Mafalda. Given the horror stories told about the economy train from Malang to Jakarta – overcrowding, heat, mysterious skin infections (I kid you not), theft and other general mischief – we opted for the fifteen hour (and surprisingly comfortable) business class train.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard a positive review of Jakarta and thanks to my incredibly low expectations, I was pleasantly surprised. True, you could hardly walk down any major street without chocking on exhaust fumes, I was barely able to see through my contact lenses after spending three days in the city, and the tiny bugs in my hostel bed were quite annoying. But sitting in a taxi on our quest for some Jakarta nightlife, driving down wide, tree-lined boulevards lined with shining office buildings, shopping malls stocked with designer goods, and even past a Sizzler, I was surprised by how modern the city can be. Is this Indonesia?

Favourite moment: Being led through the world’s third-largest mosque, Mesjid Istiqlal, dressed in long batik robes and listening to the description of the hundreds of symbols behind its design – everything from the year of Indonesia’s independence to the prophet’s birthday had been incorporated by the Catholic architect from Sumatra. 15,000 people pack into the five-level mosque every Friday, with more than 200,000 during Ramadan and Aid.

After three days in Jakarta, we were more than ready to head to the airport. However, my visa run had apparently begun one day too late. After being escorted away by Indonesian immigrations officers to pay my whopping $20 fine (I tired to bargain, but apparently this is one price that’s not negotiable here), Sarah, Margit and I breezed through security and onto our $17 flight to Singapore.

Back at the University of Manitoba, I met a ton of crazy and awesome exchange students who (for whatever reason) chose my city to study abroad in. Three of these brave souls, Wini, JS and Kunali, live in Singapore and so it was great having the chance to meet up with them two years post-exchange.

Singapore is quite possible the cleanest and most attractive city I’ve ever seen. With 5 million people jammed into an area the size of Winnipeg, what I’m guessing is a constant fear of being fined keeps everyone in line. The endless numbers of glittering shopping centres, insanely classy food courts, wonderfully cheap (at least by Singaporean standards) hawker centres, restaurants, cafes, and nightclubs ensure that no one ever goes hungry, thirsty or without commercial goods.

Favourite moments: Everything food and drink - cocktails at New Asia Bar on the 70th floor of the Swissotel, with stunning views of the city below; Chocolate heaven with Wini at Max Brenner; frog legs at the Chinatown hawker centre with JS; and free drinks on Ladies Night in Clarke Quay with Kunali.


Honorable mentions: Walking along the Singapore River, the amazing cityscapes during dinner at Thai Express with Wini and JS, and the indescribable Western comforts of hot water, toilet paper and clean streets.

After a quick and expensive three days in Singapore (and one fantastic night in Clarke Quay), we dragged ourselves onto an early morning bus bound for Malaysia. Our first stop was Melaka, a charming little historical city on the Malaysian peninsula. It was a laid back, quiet and relaxing stop over between Singapore and Kuala Lumpur that was only made better by our amazing hostel owner, Howard.

Favourite moments: Going out for laksa (an amazing coconut milk, chili and lemon grass soup with seafood, tofu and egg) with our diverse array of fellow hostel stayers – from a couple of middle-aged white guys to a cute little Chinese girl; a spur of the moment Melaka-by-night bike tour, complete with baskets and bells, led by Howard and his portable speakers blaring Top 40s as we rode down the boardwalk along the river. So random and so much fun!

My final visa run stop was Kuala Lumpur. I had about a day and a half with the girls before they boarded a plane for Bali, so the remaining four days were spent embracing the joys of travelling solo (or at least trying). I did miss having a travel buddy, but I have to admit that having the freedom to wander a giant English-language bookstore, sit in a cafe for hours reading or writing postcards, splurge on amazing foot reflexology while hiding from the rain, or just wander aimlessly throughout the city streets and markets, all without having to confer with anyone else’s plans, was kind of refreshing.

KL was a surprisingly modern city with fantastically cheap prices and a decent mix of old and new – everything from huge designer shopping malls to ancient Hindu temples. And as a single white girl I was more than happy to be able to walk around alone without issue.

Favourite moments: Dining on random Chinese-Malaysian dishes from street vendors along Jalan Alor; seeing the city descended upon by thousands of Westerns for the Formula One races; that amazing hour of foot reflexology (did I mention it was amazing?).

I returned to Malang relaxed and satisfied from two weeks with hot water and dishes that didn’t contain rice and got to work applying for jobs back in Winnipeg. In between the job applications, I was also trying desperately to fit an entire Indonesian experience into seven days for Steph’s upcoming trip to Indonesia.

Steph and Kristina (her super sweet friend from work) landed on a Friday night, giving us no more than one week to see all that Indonesia has to offer (well, Central and East Java, at least). We kicked off their trip in Malang, wandering through the bird and flower markets, catching angkots all over the city, checking out the AIESEC exhibition for local small businesses and dining on bakso, all before loading into a van for an overnight drive to Yogya (check out my previous post, "A weekend in Yogya," for a recap of my last trip to the city).

There possibly isn’t a better opportunity to practice Bahasa Indonesia than when you’re sitting in the front seat of a van at 1am beside a driver who keeps falling asleep at the wheel. In my (very) broken Bahasa, I tried my best to negotiate with the man to pull over and sleep, or at least stop for a coffee break, but there was just no getting through to him (not that he didn’t understand me; on the contrary, he was arguing that he wasn’t tired – a victory for my language skills but not for my general well-being). The rest of the night was spent wide-awake in the front seat, preparing to grab the wheel when necessary and occasionally harassing the driver with more broken Bahasa.

Amazingly, we arrived safely in Yogya at 5:30am on Easter morning (an Easter miracle, as far as I’m concerned) and within 15 minutes we had found a hostel and crawled into bed for some much needed sleep. The rest of our Easter Sunday in Yogya was spent shopping for beautiful batik and other souvenirs. We ate a bag of Reese’s peanut butter eggs to celebrate the holiday and had a delicious dinner (I ordered pizza) and a cold Bintang beer with a couple other travellers. Very un-Eastery indeed, but it was still great to spend the day with an old friend and a few new ones.

As I had already explored the wonders of Yogya and the surrounding area a couple months before, I was determined to see Borobudur at sunrise this time around (especially since the characters in The Beach mentioned it at least three or four times as a kind of right of passage for backpackers in South East Asia, I figured that it was now or never). We headed over to the village of Borobudur and spent the night in a beautiful little hotel with hot water, mosquito net canopied beds and a patio over looking rice paddies, all for $10 – I love this country.

We met the boys of Jaker (on the recommendation of Lonely Planet – thank you!) early the next morning before sunrise and loaded onto motorbikes to drive through the surrounding villages to the base of Mahitan hill. With a bit of effort and cursing, we arrived at the summit just as the first rays of pink and purple were staining the sky. Watching the sun rise directly from behind the cone of Mount Merapi (an active volcano), with the stupa of Borobudur nestled in the mist of the valley below... amazing.

A less-terrifying van ride brought us back to Malang early Wednesday morning, with just enough time to wash clothes, introduce the girls to serabi, sate ayam and terang bulan (see my previous post, Selamat makan!) before we boarded yet another van at 1:30am. Our driver navigated his way up the ridiculously twisty roads to the gates of Bromo-Tengger-Semeru National Park and we switched over to a 4x4 jeep to reach the peak of Gunung Penenjakan to watch what is supposed to be an utterly amazing sunrise over the three active volcanoes that make up the national park. It was dark and around 4am by the time we made it to the lookout point and I honestly never thought it was possible to be cold in Indonesia, but we were freezing. We spent the next hour and a half huddled in a tiny wooden shack/cafe around a tiny metal pot with burning charcoal, freezing our asses off and waiting for the sun to make an appearance.

All in all, Thursday was just not our day – we were met with a sheer white wall of clouds and ashes instead of a glorious sunrise. After abandoning hope to ever see the beautiful Gunung Bromo, we were told (through a very confusing round of back-and-forth between someone else’s tour guide and a pack of jeep drivers) that the volcano was, in fact, active again and we weren’t able to climb the crater to take a peak inside the volcano as originally planned (this explained the fine covering of ashes over Malang the day before). So we loaded back into the jeep with our hopes dashed and began the 6-hour journey to Ijen Plateau. We arrived just as the sun was setting and drove through acres of coffee plantations before reaching our hotel, taking a quick dip in the hot-spring-fed hot tub, and heading to bed. Up at 4am once again, we arrived at the base of Ijen just after the sun came up and started the 3km trek up the mountain to the lip of the crater.

Being a girl from the Prairies, I’ve never done any type of trekking in high altitudes and I was pretty sure I was never going to make it up that damn mountainside. I was thankful to have the occasional semi-flat piece of trail and a few families of gibbons here and there to keep me going. Reaching the crater, however, was like stepping into another world. The center of the crater, where the beautiful blue and green sulfur lake lays, was clouded over with volcanic steam, and the haze across the sun made the rocky landscape seems oddly lunar.

I should mention that Ijen Plateau is not only a great place to trek, but also employs a couple hundred men who hike up and down the sides of the mountain and into the crater to haul out hand-mined sulfur. These men pile the giant yellow blocks of sulfur (with little more than a cotton scarf across their mouths to filter the sulfur fumes billowing out of the vents in the volcano) into two baskets connected with a flat piece of wood, hoist it up onto their shoulder, and off they go up the crater wall and down to the base of the mountain. These baskets weight anywhere from 60kg up to 95kg (132 to 209lbs)! That’s more than the entire body weight of these little Indonesian men. As I was stumbling my way up the loose rock after visiting the mines and shores of the sulfur lake at the base of the crater, trying not to choke on the fumes coming up from below, I was in utter awe of how these men make one or two of these trips, day after day, usually with a cigarette balanced between their lips.

We returned to Malang and I said goodbye to Steph and Kristina as they headed to Surabaya at the lovely hour of 3am to catch their three planes back to Winnipeg.

I’m onto my final month in Indonesia! It’s almost hard to believe. Once again, true to my procrastinating nature, I spent last night dragging Cinthya around Malang to find Malaria pills. About three hours and $12 later, I had visited a doctor, hunted down my prescription and went home to inspect myself for any signs of an allergic or adverse reaction to the pills. Now more or less jungle-ready, I’ll be spending the first two weeks of May exploring Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo) with Mafalda, searching for jungle adventures, floating markets, boating down a river through national parks and wild orangutan sightings.

Karimunjawa

About a year ago, I developed a serious addiction to Lost. I devoured all six seasons in three short months – I was hooked. Wandering around the shores of the tiny islands that make up Karimunjawa this past weekend, I half-expected Jack or Kate to come running out onto the shore at any minute. The islands were almost straight off the small screen – crystal clear water with shades of turquoise, greens and blues, palm trees and rolling green hills lining the coasts and endless stretches of pure white sand. Amazing.

Like most adventures in Indonesia, the trek to Karimunjawa was impossibly long (which may be a good thing as I’m sure it reduces the number of tourists descending upon the islands). After two buses, a ferry ride and twenty long hours, we arrived on the shores of the main island... and were greeted by rain and grey skies. Great.

But despite the rain clouds, which ignored our prayers and didn’t let up all weekend, the landscapes were amazing. The largest island is home to about three thousand people but you’d never guess from the atmosphere. A tiny paved road or two twists along the island, past small, one-floor houses, a few shops and dozens of chickens and cats. The twenty-six other islands are like dots of sand and palm trees with little more than a family or two living on its shores. If this isn’t the definition of paradise, I don’t know what is.

We stayed in Karimujawa for three nights at a homestay near the harbour, which doubled as our guide’s office (Alex, who was hilarious and had an underwater camera – double score). Each morning, we awoke to roosters wandering around the beach in our backyard and dined on rice, vegetables, tempe, eggs and jasmine tea on the raised, hut-like platform near the sea beside the house. Afterwards we loaded onto the boat with Alex and his crew for a morning of island hopping and snorkelling.

Karimunjawa is a marine national park and I have never in my life seen anything as stunning as what lays under its waters. The coral reefs were like underwater forests with fish and sea life of all colours – neon blues, lime greens, salmon pinks, bright oranges, vivid yellows - living in their shelter. I can only imagine what the scenes would have looked like had the sun been shining through the water.

 
After a solid morning of exploring the reefs, we’d pulled up to one of the dozens of tiny islands for lunch. The boys would immediately get to work cutting up red and green peppers and onions that would later be crushed into a spicy paste called sambal (something I’m convinced no Indonesian can live without). Freshly caught fish were laid out on a grill over a fire of coconut husks, cooking and absorbing the flavours of the smoke. When the meal was ready (it was nice having men cook for the women for a change), we’d spread out a mat on the grass and dig in, Indonesian style (with our hands). Eating rice, vegetables and whole-grilled fish with your fingers is no easy feat but it was somehow so satisfying to be sitting on the ground beside the ocean, scooping up food with your hands and washing up in the seawater afterward.

 
After dinner and an hour or two of chilling out and exploring the shores, we’d head out on the boat again. Over the two days we were there, we stopped at a sand bar in the middle of the ocean, snorkelled at four coral reefs, swam in an enclosure with white-tipped sharks and sea turtles, and wandered around the beaches of four different islands. Unfortunately the sun never did break through the clouds and at times it was even cold (yes, cold!) out on the water, even bundled up in a sarong and rain jacket (although some of us still managed to get sunburns). But, we celebrated Mafalda’s 25th birthday with a cold Bintang (local beer) on the beach and spent both days in a bikini, with sand on our feet and seawater in our hair. I don’t know if life can really get better than that.

After lunch, we’d stretch out on the boat and relax to the roll of the waves (or hold on for dear life, depending on the weather) en route to another coral reef or island. Once the sun started going down in the sky, we’d return from a day on the water, shower (with cold water, as per usual) and relax before dining out in the backyard. Fish was almost always on the menu, as was rice, but the food was home cooked and not unbearably spicy (after tasting a few dishes Lombok, I’m now skeptical about typical island dishes – it really seems the more water you’re surrounded by, the higher your pain threshold should be). Anyway, as it always goes, any food eaten outdoors, even with random insects, cats and chickens coming to investigate, always tastes better.

On Monday morning, we awoke to catch the ferry only to see the first few glimpses of blue sky. Apparently luck was not in our favour that weekend but that only shows just how beautiful Karimunjawa is, rain or no rain. We set off on the ferry and did our best to kill the time among the groups of entire families stretched out on the floor amid food wrappers and other trash. Nearly 24 hours later, we were back in Malang and preparing for our next adventure.

My Indonesian visa is valid for one year, but for whatever the reason, I can only stay in the country for 60 days at a time. It sounds incredibly inconvenient but also gives me a fantastic excuse to go abroad for a while. This weekend marks the end of the project, my 60-day limit, and my halfway point here, so we’re catching a (fifteen-hour-long) train to spend the weekend in Jakarta with Margit, Sarah, Mafalda and Vinicius. After what I’m guessing will be three hot and chaotic days in the nation’s capital, Margit, Sarah and I are off to Singapore, where I’ll be able to meet up with Wini, JS and Kunali (old friends who studied on exchange at my university).

After three days in Singapore, we’ll spend a day in Melaka, Malaysia and then finally end the trip at Kuala Lumpur. I’ll part ways with Sarah and Margit as they head to Bali with Margit’s little sister, who’s flying in from the Netherlands, and spend my last three days in KL travelling solo before flying back to Indonesia. Then, after a week spent back in Malang, Steph and her friend will arrive and I’ll be off once again. Needless to say, the month of April will fly by!

Selamat makan!

I’m pretty sure my Indonesian mom’s favourite thing to say to me is, “Makan, makan!” (“Eat, eat!”). And while I’ve never really been a fan of rice, I have to admit that it’s grown on me in the last six weeks. This is probably a good thing since Indonesians don’t consider a meal (even breakfast) complete without a serving of nasi. Every family has a rice cooker full of rice on the counter at all times and I've actually had to explain myself here if I don’t eat rice with a meal (which isn’t very often).

Meals in Indonesia are enjoyed either with a spoon (and sometimes a fork if something tricky like noodles are involved) or else with your right hand, packing rice and pieces of meat and vegetables together in a little ball and popping it into your mouth. It sounds a lot easier to master than it really is. And while hanging out in a restaurant or cafe with friends is a favourite past time here, families don’t necessarily dine together in the house. My parents used to make it a point that we all sat down around the kitchen table for dinner together, but here it’s really common to eat separately at home. 

There really isn’t much of a difference between what’s on the menu for breakfast, lunch or dinner and sure, eating rice three times a day gets a little monotonous - but the variety of ingredients used in all of the accompanying dishes is more than enough to keep things interesting. Ginger, garlic, peanut sauce, soy sauce, coconut milk, and red or green chilies (in generous amounts) are main flavours and are usually mixed with eggs, tofu, chicken, beef, or fish and boiled vegetables. There’s usually a side of tempe (fried slabs of soybean loaf), tofu and krupuk (a crunchy snack that’s even sold in bags car-to-car on the evening drive home) on the table at my house, which comes in handy when my mouth starts to feel like it’s on fire.

Restaurants here vary from carts pulled behind a bicycle, to little shacks on the side of the road, to fancy Western-looking places with fountains and nice bathrooms. But regardless of the atmosphere, it’s usually pretty hard to find something on the menu for more than two or three dollars. Walk into any restaurant here and you’re almost guaranteed to find nasi goeng (fried rice with egg and chicken), mie goreng (fried noodles with meat and vegetables), and ayam goreng (friend chicken), all served with a generous serving of rice. Indonesians usually douse all of these dishes in sambal, a spicy red chili sauce, or Margit’s favourite, kecup manis (sweet soy sauce).

Freshly made sambal with fried egg, tofu and tempe. And of course, rice.

Other restaurant favourites:
Sate - Skewers of chicken, beef or goat, BBQed and served with peanut sauce
Bakso - Meatballs in chicken broth
Capcay - Vegetables in a thick Chinese sauce
Pecel - Vegetables in a peanut sauce
Pangsit - Noodle soup

And for dessert...
Pisang goreng - Grilled banana with chocolate, cheese and sweet condensed milk
Serabi - Indonesian pancake with your choice of toppings including chocolate, cheese, sweet milk, peanuts and strawberry sauce

Indonesians are pretty big fans of fast food and the Western chains have definitely figured that out. You can find KFC, A&W, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts in most cities, with slight changes to the menu. One of my favourite quotes from Zoe, the Puetro Rican intern here, about sums it up: If you can find rice in Pizza Hut, you can find rice anywhere. Soup, spaghetti, and fried chicken with a side of rice and scrambled eggs is on the menu board at McDonalds, and you have to special order at KFC if you want anything besides rice as a side.

Despite the climate, I haven’t been so impressed by the fresh fruit and vegetables I’ve found here (actually, raw vegetables are almost never served) but I definitely love the tropical fruit - papaya, jack fruit, snake fruit, durian, sirsat, guava, mango, and the best bananas I’ve ever tasted in my life. Fresh fruit juices are on the menu at every restaurant, usually for 40 or 50 cents, as is hot or iced sweet jasmine tea.

Being a coffee addict and living on an island synonymous with great coffee, I’ve found I actually have to seek out a good cup since most people prefer jasmine tea and places usually serve instant coffee rather than the good stuff. My host mom offers to make me a great cup of coffee once in a while, brewing it the traditional way (hot water poured over finely ground coffee beans and sweetening it with a ton of sugar). I still have kopi luwak on my list of things to drink (yes, I know what it’s made from and yes, I still want to try it). One cup of the “world’s most expensive coffee” here is equal to the cost of a large latte at Starbucks back home, so why not?

But all of this food blogging is making me hungry – lunch time! Selamat makan!

Ants, weddings and pancakes

I’m starting to realize that I’m a terrible blogger, at least with my inability to stick to any sort of regular schedule. But I guess I’m just embracing Indonesian culture and their “better late than never” kind of attitude. I also went out in jeans, a jacket and scarf in 25C degree weather tonight and fit half of my family on a motorcycle, so I think I’m slowly becoming more Indonesian every minute.

The project is just over its halfway point and we’re slowly easing into the second term of the entrepreneurship project. We said goodbye to five out of the seven original interns in the last couple of weeks. Sara, Mia, Elvis, Laisa and Matej are all back studying in their home countries (miss you guys!). But we also welcomed a few new faces to the project: Zoe (Puerto Rico), Sarah (Germany), Malfalda (Portugal) and Vinicius (Brazil – actually, he’s been here for three months already but is just now joining the project after some travelling time).

Our focus in the second half will be to introduce the street kids at the NGO to the basics of entrepreneurship and help Mr. Yunus show them how to make something out of nothing (turning recycled goods into sellable products). We’ll also be assisting Mr. Yunus with his marketing strategy and helping to set up an exhibition at the end of April for local small businesses.

So now that the project status is summed up, what else have I been up to in the last week? Hmm... well, the weather is still hot and sunny as always, with the same daily downpour every late afternoon. I think it’s pure luck that I’ve only been caught in the rain on the back of a motorcycle once in the month and a half that I’ve been here. I am starting to get a bit concerned that this heat, even here in “cold” Malang, is ruining me forever for Manitoban summers.

Speaking of summer, I finally had a chance to go camping after almost two years of deprivation! On Laisa and Matej’s last weekend in Indonesia, we drove down to a beach on the south coast of East Java, set up a few rented tents and spent the night meters away from the Indian Ocean. Our efforts to start a fire were futile - we hadn’t even brought newspaper (I’m pretty sure my 10-year-old, Girl Guide self would be disappointed right about now) but luckily Dean’s rescue team buddies came to hang out for the night and assisted us.

While my quest to see the Southern Cross was once again unsuccessful (the constellation you can only see in the Southern hemisphere) and I had to mummify myself with my sarong, raincoat and scarf in an effort to deter whatever it was that was crawling all over me all night, having the chance to spend one more weekend on the beach all together was more than worth tiny ants biting my feet in my sleep.

This weekend I had the chance to see my first Indonesian wedding. Our VP ICX (the AIESEC VP who takes care of the incoming interns), Galuh, invited us to her sister’s wedding on Saturday afternoon. Indonesian weddings happen over two days – the formal ceremony first, and then the party! It was beautiful – all of the girls involved in the wedding were dressed in these amazing, sparkly, traditional dresses and the bride and groom were stunning in their traditional outfits. The bride looked like an Indonesian Barbie doll – so beautiful. There was some sort of ceremony involving baskets of fruit and rice and coins being thrown into the air that I didn’t quite understand, and there was no dancing, but I was blown away by the decor. They had transformed the entire street outside of the bride’s family’s house into a tent draped in orange, red and cream fabrics and even the rain didn’t stop people from enjoying the food and music.

I finally had a chance to cook for my host family this weekend too, and being Sunday, Margit, Sarah, Mafalda and I made a huge, delicious pancake lunch. We were slightly worried we messed up the pancakes (I know - I don’t know how that could even be possible, but there are so many different types of flour here, you wouldn’t believe it) but once we got them out of the pan and did a quick taste test, it was all good. Vira tried her hand at making my second favourite Indonesian food, terang bulan, and luckily for everyone in Manitoba, I’m pretty sure I can pull it off back home. It’s this giant, egg-y dessert that’s part pancake, part cake, spread with your choice of Indonesian fillings, folded in half and cut up. We made ours with chocolate, cheese and sweetened condensed milk. Yes, I said chocolate and cheese – bizarre but so typical here and honestly, it’s an amazing combination if you use something mild like white cheddar. I don’t know why people outside of this country haven’t figured it out.

After discovering all of these amazing Indonesian dishes, I have big plans to start riding a bike to Cinthya’s everyday although I’m a little terrified of the idea. The traffic is bad enough with all of the motorcycles and crazy drivers, let alone a white girl on a bike who keeps looking the wrong way when she crosses the street (they drive on the opposite side of the road here so I’ve just started to look in all directions to cover my bases). Wish me luck that I make it in one piece to Cinthya’s doorstep!

Celebrity Status

Since our project is at its halfway point and on hold until additional interns join us next week, AIESEC invited Margit, Vinicius and me to volunteer at a junior high school in Pasuruan, a city on the north coast of East Java. We really weren’t sure what we were getting into but it sounded interesting so we agreed to spend three days with the school, encouraging the kids to speak English and accompanying one of the classes on a field trip.

It was amazing how incredibly welcoming the entire school was. They were so happy to have us there since one of their first priorities in the school is to make sure their students can speak English and meet international standards for education. And of course, the kids were all so insanely excited to have three bule (foreigners) in their classrooms. This resulted in about five million photos, at least fifty Facebook friend requests and little girls in headscarves literally screaming whenever Vinicius walked into a room (we should really start calling him Vinicius Bieber).

On the first and last day, we were in the classrooms to introduce ourselves, talk about our countries and encourage the students to ask us questions and chat in English. Their energy levels were through the roof. On day two, we went with a grade eight class of about thirty kids to nearby Surabaya. Quite possibly the best part of the whole day was the time spent on the road. To pass the time, the kids took turns singing karaoke into a mic at the front of the bus. In Canada, I’m pretty sure no 14 year old would be caught dead singing karaoke in front of their class but it only took a couple words of encouragement before two girls got up and starting singing an English soft rock song. They even had every single one of the words memorized – I was impressed. This continued throughout the rest of the afternoon and at one point each of us bule were supposed to sing a song from our countries. Vinicius and Margit both sang some traditional songs in Portugese and Dutch but I really couldn’t think of anything good, so I just went for some good ol’ Justin Bieber. I think I was asked about a dozen times whether or not I knew the Bieb during my three days at the school, so I just went with it. At least all of the teenage girls on the bus were happy.

During the three days we spent in Pasuruan, we stayed with such an amazing host family. They made us feel like we were part of the family from the minute we walked in and pampered us like crazy - cooking everything they thought we might like, driving us across town to sample the local sweets (klepon), and even arranging a masseuse to come to the house in the evening.

Massages aside, the most amazing part of the whole experience was our goodbye party at the end of our third day. The teacher who had been showing us around the whole time told us they had just prepared something small to show their appreciation... this turned into every one of the students piling into the front courtyard, singing songs, performing instruments, giving speeches, and presenting us with gifts while all of the kids took photos and again, screamed whenever they said Vincius’s name. We were all so overwhelmed by the response - Indonesian hospitality is incredible. After posing for photos and the teachers acting as body guards as we made our way to the car (and I’m not even over exaggerating) we headed back to Malang, so exhausted but so happy.

Welcome to paradise, darling

A few weeks before I headed to Indonesia, I watched Eat Pray Love. It’s an annoying movie at best, but I have to admit that watching Julia Roberts peddle around Bali had me counting down the days to when I’d have a chance to explore the island.

Bali is (very conveniently) the next-door neighbour to East Java but it’s almost another world. The rice paddies, volcanoes and palm trees are all the same but Bali is home to a Hindu society and instead of mosques and calls to prayer, it’s filled with beautiful altars, temples and flower offerings at every doorstep and entranceway. Along with its amazing culture and history, Bali is also very much a tourist destination, with beer and Western food on the menu at nearly every restaurant in the major centres and blond, tanned vacationers lining the coast.

We spent 8 days in Bali and Lombok, arriving in Bali’s capital of Denpasar after another white-knuckle, overnight drive from Malang last Friday. We explored the south of the island and then caught a ferry to Lombok. After two amazing days on Gili Trawangan, we circled back to visit Lovina on Bali’s north coast before hitting the road back to Malang.

Sunrise on Bali

The time we spent on Bali was nowhere near enough to see the island but we all had an amazing time, going from temples, to the jungle, to the beaches, to the bars in Kuta and back. I have a fear of monkeys now thanks to the evil little creatures that live at Ulu Watu, a temple on the very southern tip of Bali. They warned us before entering, after wrapping purple sarongs and bright yellow sashes around our waists, to take off our glasses, jewelry and keep a tight grip on anything else. The view from around the grounds was stunning – it reminded me of the coast scenes in Lost – but I spent the majority of the time absolutely paranoid of the monkeys. Dean, our Indonesian friend from Surabaya, had both his glasses and a flip flop jacked and I had my water bottle snatched from my hands. Annoying, yes, but I was actually kind of impressed by the flip flop theft: Dean was taking a photo when the monkey snuck up and kind of touched his toes. Of course, Dean yelled and jumped backwards, and just as he lifted up his foot the monkey grabbed his flip flop and ran off. It took two fruit sellers and multiple bags of fruit (which you’re supposed to buy to feed the little monsters) until we finally got it back. Poor Dean.

Denpasar is about half an hour from Bali’s party capital, Kuta. It’s by the beach, packed with Westerns, bars and shops, and was absolutely insane after dark. The crowds of intoxicated and rowdy tourists mixed with the motorcycles and general chaos almost puts Las Vegas to shame.

Kuta was also a fabulous place to learn how to surf. While the beach is sub par compared others, the waves were a perfect height (big enough to ride but not to drown me). Matej and I rented boards from a surfer on the beach (for $2.50/hour each), and paddled out into the ocean to teach ourselves. After the first twenty minutes, I thought I was going to die. My arms were exhausted, my eyes were burning from the salt and I was a little worried about what diseases I could contract from all of the seawater I had swallowed. But after I finally slowed down my pace, waiting for the good waves rather than scrambling around trying to catch every single one I could, I started to get the hang of things and managed to stand up for a few (brief) seconds more than once. It was an incredible feeling and despite the injuries on my feet, knees and being hit in the head by my board while trying to tackle a wave much larger than my skills, I loved it.

The highlight of the trip, though, was probably the two days we spent on Gili Trawangan. The three Gilis are amazing little islands just between Bali and Lombok. There are no cars or motorcycles – the dirt road that runs along the perimeter of the island has ocean on one side and little beach restaurants, bars, and hotels on the other. We spent most of the time on the beach with a cold beverage in hand, soaking up the sun and ridiculously warm seawater, and the nights with another cold beverage in hand, listening to reggae (the official soundtrack of the island I think) and savouring Western fare.

On day two, Margit, Elvis, Vinicus and I went snorkelling off the shores of each of the three islands – amazing. We were thoroughly taken advantage of by thousands of tiny jellyfish on the first stop - apparentlythey weren’t dangerous but they still burned and stung like hell. At first I tried to fight the pain because the coral and sea life underneath were so beautiful but within fifteen minutes we were all out of the water and swearing. The second stop was much better and I got a chance to snorkel behind two sea turtles! One was swimming against the current and I tried so hard to keep up but got no where, while he just kept swimming along like it was nothing.

Our last stop in Bali before going back to Malang took us through the amazing mountains of central Bali (with monkeys sitting along the guard rails; I had an urge to lock the doors) to Lovina. The town is really cute and its main attraction is the dolphins that like to hang out along the coast. We got up at 5:30am and loaded into a few canoe-looking boats. I felt bad for the dolphins since they were being followed by about 25 boats of tourists but they came so close to us that I’m hoping they found it amusing (stupid tourists).

It was the first time I’d ever seen wild dolphins but I my most amazing experience came a few days later when we went to a safari park a couple hours from Malang. Just as the park was closing, we went down to the dolphin tank and found it completely empty of any visitors or workers. As soon as we stood alongside the tank, the two dolphins were right there trying to get attention. We petted them, played games so they could jump up and touch our hands... I’d never even touched a dolphin before that and I’m pretty sure we were all in love (and trying really hard not to think of the documentary The Cove). After twenty minutes with these dolphins, we had to tear ourselves away before the parked closed on us. It was incredible.

I feel like I’ve barely been home in the last two weeks (I guess because I haven’t). I still have half-written post cards from almost three weeks ago sitting on my desk in my room. Within a couple days of being back from Bali, Margit, Vinicius and I were back on the road to Pasuruan (a couple hours north of Malang) to volunteer with a junior high school. More on that insane but awesome experience to follow.

By the way - one of the best parts of living in Indonesia is the cost of living. Eight days in Bali and Lombok, transport, eating, drinking, surfing, snorkelling and everything else that we got up to... all for around CDN$350. How is that even possible?

A weekend in Yogya

My little host sister, Vitra, was so excited at the idea of me going to Yogyakarta (Yogya for short, pronounced “Joge-ja”) and Borobudur, and now I completely understand why.

Yogya is known as Java’s cultural capital, full of traditional Javanese arts and language. The trek there is about 8 (Indonesian) hours by car, so we all piled into the van we hired for the ride at about 9pm on Friday. Surprisingly the driver was on time (right, Margit?) and we hit the road, stopping only for a middle-of-the-night meal of, surprise surprise, rice at 1am. Luckily I slept through most of the drive, including the terrifyingly twisty, downhill drive out of Malang. We arrived around 6am and showered at Dian’s house, one of our AIESEC buddies who was home visiting her parents, and then headed out to find a place to stay for the weekend.

I swear it was 33C and humid at 8am (I now get why Indonesians refer to Malang as being “cold” at around 27C on an average day). We found ourselves a hostel just off of Malioboro, the main shopping street, and then went out to get acquainted with the city. Yogya seems to be a lot more modern than Malang, with so much history to see in the centre. We checked out an old fort-turned-museum commemorating Indonesia kicking out the Dutch, the kraton (the sultan’s palace), and the taman sari, where the sultan and his peeps used to bathe.

Thankfully, the rain clouds rolled in around mid afternoon just when we were all seriously starting to miss the relief of the rain from Malang, so we hopped on the front of a few bike taxis for a ride back to a bar near the hostel for a much-needed beverage to cool down. All of the Western interns went on a bit of a rice strike this weekend so after eating Chinese for dinner, and being saved by the lady who owns the hostel who came to fumigate a giant cockroach in our bathroom, we crawled into bed early in order to be up at 5am to tackle Borobudur and Prambanan temples before the heat and crowds took over.

Borobudur is an ancient Buddhist temple right in the middle of Java. The setting is amazing, with the dark grey stone clashing with the deep green of the trees and volcanoes that surround it.  We followed the six levels up, walking clockwise in true Buddhist fashion, checking out the stone carvings and Buddha statues that cover almost every single inch of the walls leading up to the top. Unfortunately the very top was closed for reconstruction but the view from where we were able to go was incredible.

Next stop was Mount Merapi, a volcano that erupted just two and a half months ago (although people still live all over its slopes). Sadly the clouds had rolled in and completely obscured the view of the cone so we couldn’t get an idea of just how destructive-looking it really is. After a quick lunch (I gave in on my rice strike and had nasi goreng, or fried rice) we went to Prambanan, a gorgeous group of Hindu temples. Apparently us bule (“boo-lay”, aka white people) were more interesting than the temples though, since we all posed for about a dozen photos with random Indonesian tourists and groups of school girls doing interviews for class.

We were all hot and tired at this point, and headed back to Yogya for a rest, to enjoy dinner and a beer in this really cool little restaurant in the tiny backstreets among the hostels, and then relax on a cafe terrace across from where we were staying. While we were having dinner and hiding from the rain, I got a text from Vira asking if I was ok and to hide under a table since she heard there was an earthquake in Yogya. Obviously we hadn’t felt or even heard of anything and we later heard that fortunately (or maybe unfortunately, I kind of want to feel an minor earthquake) it was about 30km and only about a 3 point something on the Richter scale.

Our last day in Yogya was a designated shopping day where we bought wonderfully cheap batik (traditional hand dyed cloth with really funky designs) and bargained for leather flip flops for $1.50. After dinner we went back to the hostel to wait for the van to take us back to Malang and found the place completely packed with this really adorable Indonesian family. There were about twenty adults plus kids all there for a week-long reunion and so of course, a photo shoot commenced with us posing with the aunts, kids and grandma. Grandpa was manning the camera so after Grandma posed with Matej, she grabbed the camera and got me to pose with my arm around Grandpa. It was hilarious and everyone was laughing the entire time.

After our fifteen minutes of fame, we headed out on the road back home. The eight hour drive wasn’t bad and we passed the time listening to the driver’s house music, chatting about relationship norms and occasionally fearing for our lives as we passed other vehicles on the tiny highway with giant tour buses passing us. I thought Tunisian driving was chaotic but Indonesians, their motorcycles and tiny curved highways bring a whole new meaning to defensive driving.

We arrived back home around 4am, just as half the city was waking up to pray and get their day started (my entire host family is up by 5 or 6am, so I usually feel like a slacker with my alarm set for 7:30am). I crashed at Cinthya’s with the other interns and slept off the weekend until noon, when we got up and got to work on the project. We’re writing a paper about SMEs here in Malang, which we will use as part of our presentation to gain support from the government for Mr. Yunus and his recycling company.

Yesterday we switched gears and got to work preparing our presentation for the end of the month for Mr. Yunus and potential stakeholders. I had brought over some cinnamon hearts from Canada, classic Valentine’s Day candy, and took them to Cinthya’s place. She always has her little cousins running around, super adorable little girls, and so of course they had to try. They grabbed a handful and put it in their mouth, and then ran around yelling, “Spicy! Spicy!”, fanning their mouths and killing themselves giggling. For a country that eats spicy food for breakfast, I found it hilarious, and the girls turned it into a game to prove to me they could handle the hotness and kept gasping and giggling whenever I’d stick out my tongue and show them how many I could handle at a time. Such cuties.

Yesterday afternoon, Margit and I had a meeting with a university here about potentially giving some guest lectures or at least sharing our experiences with a few classes. I’m not completely sold on the idea since I kind of suck at teaching, let alone to university students, but we’ll see. After that, we headed to the street kids’ school to give them a lesson on entrepreneurship and introduce them to Mr. Yunus. It will be a busy rest of the week but there's definitely a light at the end of the tunnel: a week-long trip to Bali and Lombok (I know you’re all jealous right now but try not to hate me – I hear Winnipeg is near melting at least!). I can’t believe how fast February has gone, and with so much planned in March and especially April, time is going to fly like always.

The project

I was talking to my mom this morning on Skype (or at least trying to – the internet connection here is pretty brutal) and mentioned that for the wet season, it really hasn’t been that wet – maybe a shower here and there for ten minutes in the evening, but not at all the monsoon season I expected (I haven’t even busted out my rain coat yet). This morning was even burning hot, with the sun finally out, and my ride in Malang’s public transportation (a rickety, blue-painted minibus called an angkot) was practically a sauna. Mother nature decided to prove me wrong this afternoon with a torrential downpour coming out of no where, flooding the streets and deafening us with thunder. I hope my laundry dries in time for our road trip this weekend! But more on that later.

I quickly explained what it is I’m doing here, but if you’re wondering what exactly was so enticing to bring me half way across the world, without any pay cheques for four months... here's a little run down on the project so far.

I’m working on a PBoX (project based on exchange... AIESEC is full of wonderfully confusing acronyms), coordinated by a group of AIESECers and executed by a group of interns like me, who came from around the world to lend a hand, pool our skills, and make a difference here in Malang. It sounds all very idealistic, and I’m trying to explain it without sounding like a tool, all “we’re going to save the world”...  but it’s amazing how motivated and genuinely excited everyone is to make an impact and we all have really high expectations for both the project and ourselves.

We kicked off my first week on the project with a crash course on local SMEs (small/medium-sized enterprises), where we had a chance to visit a handful of local businesses and chat with the owners about everything from marketing and accounting (or lack of accounting) to HR and management structure. The differences between the way these small business owners think in comparison to things back in Canada was frustrating to me at first. There are so many recommendations that we could offer but to be honest, the majority of owners seemed perfectly happy meeting their current demand, using very little in the way of marketing or promotions, and living life as is.

Of course, money is a huge barrier to expansion for SMEs here. Both the government and banks provide little, if any, type of funding or loans unless your profits are high, regardless of potential, and it seemed all of the businesses were only pulling in a few hundred to a thousand dollars per month in revenues. Even with the extremely low cost of living, it still makes the business tough to grow when combined with a lack of entrepreneurial thinking.

Although frustrating, it was extremely interesting to see and to compare things like employee benefits, for example. We spoke with a woman who owns a hand-painted textiles business and since she employs mostly teenage girls who don’t have a very high level of education, and although she has a really hard time with employee turnover as most of the girls quit after they get married, she still brings in an Imam to teach them about religion and how to be good wives. Another woman, the owner of a woodcrafts business, pays not only a daily salary but also provides a monthly allowance for the worker’s family to cover things like elementary school or check-ups. She has a handful of male employees and said they stay 10-15 years with the company.

The second part of the project is what I’m the most excited for: drawing up business recommendations and a marketing plan for Mr. Yunos, the most adorable little Indonesian man I’ve ever seen. His business is incredibly progressive for the area, making goods like backpacks, bags and flip flops from recycled materials. So far he’s been doing this on the side but he wants to really boost sales and awareness of his products and so we’ve been enlisted to help. We’ll be presenting the plan at an AIESEC-organized gala dinner at the end of the month.

The next step of the project will start in March, when we'll start working with an NGO and kids living in less-than-ideal conditions who are either from very poor families, living on the streets or in the rooms at the NGO. Our goal is to introduce them to the idea of entrepreneurship and work with Mr. Yunos to teach them skills to make their own goods from recycled materials, and ultimately either start or at least write a plan for a gallery where they can display and sell their products. It's a huge goal to achieve in the short month we'll have but we had a chance to meet the kids on Wednesday and their energy level was insane. They'll be a lot of fun to work with and we all stand to gain so much.

This project would really be nothing without my lovely team of interns and AIESECers who I’ve been working with on the project: Margit (Netherlands), Mia, Sarah and Elivs (Team China), Matej (Slovakia), Laisa (Brazil), and of course Vira, Cinthya, Arin, Ragil, Hadi, and everyone else who’s been working hard and fighting off the stress.

As a great end to the week, I’m heading to Yogya and Borobudur with Hadi, Mia, Sarah, Margit and Matej for a weekend roadtrip. More when I get back. Bon weekend!

P.S. Sorry for the lack of photos in this blog - there are so many I want to share but the internet connection today is making it impossible.

Made it!

This is my first ever blog, so I’ve been taking this blog-writing business more seriously than needed, putting off starting it by 5 days already trying to figure out what to call my blog. (I think 5 days, anyway... time has sort of blurred together here since I arrived last week).

Anyway, I’ve been sitting up in my room in my host family’s house this afternoon trying to brainstorm a title, sweating from the humidity and trying to wage an unsuccessful war against the ants in my room. Still no title but in the meantime I might as well start at the beginning.

I had only just got back from spending 15 amazing months living in Tunis, Tunisia and without a job back home, or the desire to find one, I decided that it’s now or never to finally move to Asia. Signing up for a second round of being an intern through AIESEC’s exchange program, I found a project focused on entrepreneurship with the local committee at Brawojaya University here in Malang, East Java, Indonesia. I stumbled into my host family’s house at about 10pm on a Thursday night after boarding the plane in Winnipeg about 50 hours earlier and Vira (an AIESECer here), her mom and little sister met me at the door. They showed me up to my room and gave me a crash course in navigating their bathroom (a porcelain hole in the floor requiring a pretty good set of quads, and a bucket with a sink full of water for showering), after which I crawled into my bed to sleep off the 13 hours time difference.

Adapting to life in Malang was incredibly easy thanks to my super adorable host family and the amazing AIESECers and interns and I’ve had a lot of fun picking out all of the similarities between the way of living here and back in Tunisia. Indonesia is a Muslim country (it’s the 4th most populated country in the world, with the largest population of Muslims) and it took me a couple nights to be able to once again sleep through that first call to prayer in the morning (I swear the call to prayers last 5 times longer here).

My host family lives about 15 minutes from the centre of the city in a really quiet neighbourhood with a great view of the mountains surrounding Malang. Actually, the entire city seems to have a view of the mountains and volcanoes nearby and I’m still in love with how green the city is. Vira, the oldest daughter, is in her first year of university and has been such a life saver for me, organizing my schedule and getting me to and from where I need to go, along with explaining the ins and outs of daily life. She has a younger sister in junior high and a younger brother in grade one. The two girls are my in-house translators, since their parents, brother and servant don’t speak much English. I’ve been putting myself through a crash course in Bahasa Indonesia to try and make life easier and more interesting for all of us.

Since arriving, I’ve had the chance to hike through rice fields, climb to the top of a temple, swim in a natural pool with monkeys observing us from overhead, sample insanely delicious Indonesian dishes, meet a team of super-motivated AIESECers and interns, and get to know the conditions of local small businesses here. I’ve also gotten used to eating rice at least two or three times a day, looking the other way when crossing the street, having spicy food for breakfast, re-learning to suppress my urge to wear a seatbelt, and pretty much accepting the fact that I’m going to look sweaty in almost every photo I take here.

Landing in Jakarta, hot and delirious after a night spent in Hong Kong and almost a full day sitting in one plane or another since leaving Manitoba, and trying to navigate the chaos that is the capital’s airport, I seriously did ask myself why I willingly move to these random places but after finally meeting everyone, seeing the city and getting started on the project, I definitely know why I put myself through so many confusing situations and embarrassing/frustrating misunderstandings. In the end, it’s all part of the fun.