We are headed up to Chiang Mai, after visiting Angkor Wat for the last several busy days. Good thing we were in the nice warm waters of the Indian Ocean and not the Antarctic.
http://www.klewtv.com/news/national/11757191.html
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Offline until the 21st -- Diving the Similans
http://www.khaolakscubaadventures.com/livea.html
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Bali-wood
Oct 15 – Sanur to Nusa Lembogan, Bali
It’s time to go diving! We caught the Parama boat (a 48 passenger, motorized outrigger) to Nusa Lembogan, one of a gathering of small islands off the Southeast corner of Bali. These islands are known for their excellent diving, and I was eager to get started. Chilling today at the homestay, and tomorrow, diving! Oct 16 – Nusa Lembogan What a crappy night’s sleep! I think the sheets had been washed in ocean salt water and not totally dried or something. Ugh. Super itchy all night. Dreams of ants crawling all over my body. Itchy itchy itchy. And of course, not quite awake enough to do something sensible like get my sleep sack from my backpack.
Coffee to get started and off to the dive shop down the coral encrusted beach. This kind of beach is absolutely beautiful because it’s mostly made up of chunks of bleached white coral. However, don’t think of going barefoot in it unless you want your feet to get thoroughly chewed by the stuff. Very sharp.
I was a little nervous because it had been some time since my last dive – maybe about five years. I did some refresher reading from my diving instruction book so was ready for at least setting up my tanks, BCD (buoyancy control device), reg and all that good stuff that keeps you alive under 20 meters (or more) of water. The thing that made me nervous was the actual dive.
Some of you might know that the reason that I started diving was to overcome a mild phobia of the ocean. That fear still sits with me even though I’ve completed some pretty advanced dives in various conditions. See, the first time you go in the water after a long break can be scary. You’re breathing out of a tube, surrounded by another world of creatures and plants. The water changes your vision, your weight, your movement. And it’s BIG. Another statement by Ms. Obvious, but seriously, it’s hard to get really how BIG it all is until you’re under there. It’s massive and since you don’t have gills, you get that, really, you’re not necessarily supposed to be there.
So going down the first time after a while, you can get a little panicky, which is absolutely the worst thing you can do if you’re diving. When you’re nervous or anxious, you not only suck up all your air faster, but you just don’t get to experience all the wonder you possibly could that’s there (and you feel a little like a dolt because you’ve made your dive buddy or divemaster surface much sooner than anyone else).
Once we arrived at the dive site, Pura Mesgading, and I came off the back of the boat, I just tried to breeeaaathe. Did I say you’re breathing out of a tube and you can’t surface unless it’s an emergency? Breeeatthhe… Crazy fish and plant life… brreeeaaatthhe… trying to get your buoyancy adjusted so you don’t shoot to the surface or sink to the bottom… breeeaaatthhhe…
A moray eel! How cool is that?? Beautiful coral in light pink, peach, purple. Gorgeous, multicolored fish of all shapes and sizes darting this way and that or just lazily riding the water from here to there. Blue, green, orange, pink, fuchsia plants waving gracefully in the current. It’s all so beautiful! Breeeatthe…
As the minutes passed, I became more relaxed into the experience and my “dive legs” began to return. Then, before I knew it, it was time to surface, complete my three minute, five meter safety stop and hop back onto the boat to travel to the next dive site.
The group was hoping to see a mola mola on this trip. Everyone was, in fact, rooting for it. The mola mola is also known as the sunfish – a very large flat fish, shaped like a sun that you’d see drawn in a children’s painting. For a pic of the sunfish, check out http://www.starfish.ch/collection/pelagics.html. Amazing, isn’t it? Something totally prehistoric looking. These are pretty difficult to spot, but if you’re lucky, you may find him languidly flapping his very big fins about, coasting out into deeper waters. On this next dive, I was just really excited. I had my initial nervousness out of the way and was ready to get in the flow (so to speak) and just drop into the ultra present state you can get into while diving.
Immediately, when the first diver dropped into the water, she shouted, “There’s a sea snake and a mola mola!” Wow, two creatures not often seen on a typical dive, one of which is horribly poisonous and can easily kill a human. Supercool! I got in the water as soon as I could and there he was, the kooky looking but somehow gorgeous mola mola. He was just slowly flapping his fins, out toward the open ocean, not bothered at all by these strange, rubber clad creatures in the water staring at him with total awe and complete delight. It’s the great thing about nature, I think… just how truly neutral it is. No plans, no malice, no nothing. Just being. And fortunately, no sea snake, though a part of me was disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to add that to my dive log.
This dive was in Crystal Bay, which proved to be very challenging. After spotting the mola mola, the dive got underway and we hit a very strong current that wanted to suck us all out into the open ocean. The divemaster had us all grab onto a rock face and hang on so that we didn’t get separated and drawn away. This current also brought in pushes of freezing cold water, which was shocking against the warmer water we’d been diving in. The current and cold water also affected the visibility, much like in the desert when you see the heat rising off the desert floor making everything appear wavy and distorted. It was wild and I was glad that, by that point, I had become more comfortable under the ocean. Still, it was quite and experience, and besides the mola mola, the most notable thing about the dive.
We surfaced, and the rest of my day was spent resting and relaxing on the beachfront, looking out at the beautiful ocean and all the seaweed farmers tending to their crops. The main cash crop out of Nusa Lembogan is seaweed. The farmers grow large fields of the stuff just off the beach, and the fields become invisible or exposed depending on the tide. Like any farmer, they (they being mostly women) tend to the crop every day, growing, harvesting, drying, and packaging up their crop for shipment to processing plants that turn this crop into carageenan, an emulsifying agent that’s used to thicken ice cream, cheese, and other products. The labor that this takes is quite intensive, but a new crop can mature in as little as 45 days. Think of that next time you have a big scoop of triple chocolate fudge brownie delight!
That evening, I watched the sun set over the island, enjoying the warm air and sweet ocean breeze on my skin.
Tonight, I sleep with the sleep sack!
Oct 17 – Nusa Lembogan to Pemuteran
We caught the Perama boat back to the mainland and hired a private driver to transport us and all our worldly possessions to the exact opposite side of Bali. Just a note here that hiring a private driver is just a little more expensive than taking a bus, and with a driver, you get A/C plus stops along the way to sightsee and take pictures. We decided the additional 10 bucks or so was worth it.
The driver went through the center of Bali, through the purple blue mountains, the lush forest, the vibrant green rice paddies. The mountainous country in Bali is spectacular. Looking from the top of a peak, you can see miles and miles of valley, flat and fertile and flourishing. Everything seems so *alive*. If humanity were to disappear, all houses, buildings, mosques, temples would be covered completely within 10 years, and broken apart and decaying within 20 -- *that’s* how alive it feels. And I love that feeling. There’s this sense that nature is definitely in control, not humans. And I think that this feeling demands a kind of respect, a kind of acknowledgement of the force of nature from those living there.
We reached Pemuteran after four hours of driving and settled into a beautifully decorated Balinese style bungalow, complete with a high vaulted ceiling with a grass roof over large beams, a beautifully carved teak canopy bed and other furnishings, and frangipani flowers laid out in patterns on the bedding and nightstands. And the icing on the already delicious cake? This was rented for about $20 a day (breakfast included). As the sun set, I walked along a deserted black sand beach and admired the incredible beauty that seems to be everywhere, in some form or other, in Bali.
Oct 18 – Pemuteran
My search for the perfect flip flops continues. In India, I bought “The Flesh Eaters”. In Bali, I swapped out the Flesheaters for “The Planks”. But The Planks are pretty damn comfortable, despite their plankiness. The last time I was in Bali, I bought a miraculously comfortable pair of flip flops for like, $1.50 that, when you wore them, you felt like you were barefoot, except better and more velvety. When those finally broke back in the U.S., I was heartsick. Now, I’m hoping that The Planks will be the magical replacements. We shall see…
I hung out on the beach, just about a 10 minute walk up the main road. Pemuteran is really just a small village with a few resorts, markets, and dive shops, plus small huts/houses for those who work in or own those establishments.
The beach in Pemuteran is gorgeous. Fine black sand on one side of a jetty, and fine white sand on the other. Today, I simply laid on a lounge chair in the hot hot sun, listened to music on my iPod, read my book, and swam in the ocean. Another perfect and amazing day in paradise.
Tomorrow, diving!
Oct 19 – Pemuteran
What strikes me about Bali is how beautiful everything is. When you’re at the beach, you can appreciate the azure ocean, the white and black sand beaches, the view to the mountains, towering and hazy in the far distance. And when you’re inland, you can appreciate the lush greenery, from the many different types of palm trees, to the giant elephant ear leaves, to the vines, spilling out over the trees and off the cliffs, to the ancient looking ?? that look like they were once food for the dinosaurs. And throughout it all, there’s the incredible food and the beautiful Balinese children. And I feel like all of this is only the beginning of my whole perception of Balinese nature and culture.
Diving today!
The first site was called the Eel Garden located in the Taman National Bali Barat, or West Bali National Park). This includes 7000 hectares of coral reef and coastal waters. The dive was absolutely flawless. Great temperatures above the water and under. Loooog visibility. Beautiful animal and plant life. I saw my first lion fish, which are poisonous to people, but absolutely beautiful to see. Check out http://divegallery.com/lionfish.htm for a spectacular picture of these amazing creatures. The dive is called Eel Garden for a reason. Upon approaching a sandy bar on the ocean floor, a hundred or so small snakelike eels peeked their heads about six inches above the sand to wave their heads and bodies in the water and capture food. Seeing their bodies gently swaying in the soft surge was like seeing a tall grass waving in the wind. At first, I thought they were vegetation, but when I approached, their little bodies disappeared inside their holes and then reappeared after we passed them. For a view into what I saw, visit http://www.richard-seaman.com/Wallpaper/Nature/Underwater/Misc/RedSeaGardenEels.jpg. I also saw the ghost pipefish (see http://www.calacademy.org/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=13353) as well as the venomous stonefish, both of which simply look exactly like where they live. The ghost pipefish is tiny… I mean really tiny, and it lives on coral that looks exactly like it. And the stonefish looks exactly like a rock sitting on the reef. It’s uncanny how these creatures have adapted and learned how to best protect themselves and how best to feed themselves. I think that, above the water, we might be so used to seeing how this happens, or even be very separated from nature in our urban environments that we’ve forgotten how completely miraculous it is. And when you’re under the water, you get to experience the wonder of it all, all over again because it’s so unique and strange. I often feel like a kid when I go under… constantly in awe and wonder, my eyes wide and sometimes even laughing out loud through my regulator. If I didn’t have to breathe through my reg, I’d also have my mouth agape.
We surfaced after a very relaxing and wondrous dive and stopped at an abandoned island for lunch, which consisted of some completely delicious Balinese food prepared old school, traditional style. Have I already mentioned how utterly fantastic Balinese food is? We chatted with the divemaster, who, like many divemasters who I seem to encounter, are more hardcore, cussing, tattooed sea pirate than anything else. We snorkeled a bit and then our surface time was up so we could get back in the H2O.
The second dive that day was called “The Bat Cave”. Another spectacular, relaxing, beautiful, perfect dive with all the right conditions and all the amazing plant and animal life. Here I saw the spaghetti worm, orange and black and white striped clownfish who would sneak out from their waving anemone homes to curiously check me out then dart back into their anemone homes when I reached out to make contact with them, big sea slugs, parrotfish rainbow bright multicolored and feeding on the coral, and more, stonefish, hiding away on their rocks and stoically peering up and curious divers. There were so many other species of fish, and too many to name. And I don’t even know where to begin with the plant life and coral!
Here’s an entry I wrote to a friend after I took these very impactful dives…
Well, something wonderful happened while I was diving the other day. I was in Pemuteran diving the West Bali National Park and I had that Moment. You know, the Moment when you lose yourself, when you feel the ancient ocean holding you, when you feel like you’ve returned, like you’re part of something antediluvian… mystical. You’ve become connected to the All, and you are the All. And the All is magnificent and beautiful and awe-some. And you’re humbled that this is what it IS and that you’re really part of something so monumental, so deep, so indescribable. There are simply no words. Several times, I was so deeply moved under the water I had to hold back tears… I was so moved by the power of this universe, this planet, this ocean. There is simply no other experience in Nature that I’ve had as big as the ones I’ve had under the ocean. And I’m filled with this intense gratification that can only come from that experience.
I love diving. I just really love it. It scares me, it thrills me, it connects me to Nature.
This is what diving is becoming to me. More, more more…
Oct 20 – Pemuteran to Tulamben
On our way out of town, we stopped at a temple, perched on a cliff face and overlooking the ocean. Carvings of dragons and gods (and dragon gods), fierce and protective, balanced on the outside of the temple and over the temple gates. A large and intimidating carving of Garuda hovered over the exit of the temple, gazing with his piercing visage out over the ocean crashing up against the black rock. Stairs led down the exit, descending down to the water, where you could see more, smaller temples carved into the cliff face.
I entered wearing the traditional sarong and sash, provided by a temple guardian. Inside, several people were dressed in traditional Balinese garb, completing their afternoon of worship, kneeling on the ground, palms pressed together and held to the forehead and frangipani flower perched atop, then bowing with forehead to the ground while prayers were chanted.
Many pictures and then on to Pulaki Temple, just across the road. This temple was filled with macaque monkeys, and none too friendly, either. In fact, they were a little confrontational and aggressive for my own comfort. Despite the monkeys running wild, several devotees continued on with their prayers. That’s devotion.
After fleeing Monkeyville, we continued on through the countryside and arrived at Air Panas Banjar, a hot springs area popular with locals and Balinese, Indonesian, and Western tourists. Eight fierce-faced stone naga pour water from a natural hot spring into the first bath, which then overflows via the mouths of five more naga into a second, larger pool. In a third pool, water pours from a 3 meter high spout to give a pummeling massage. This is all set in an incredibly tropical and verdant setting – green green everywhere, layer upon layer of green and highlighted with spots of purple, fuchsia, and pink flowers. As I was soaking in the pools, the rain started and then transformed into a tropical downpour. Everything seemed wet, moist, humid, muggy, sultry, dripping, soaked through and through. It was weird and sort of uncomfortable and completely splendid.
After getting as dry as possible (not very dry, really), we departed and finished our trip to arrive in Tulamben on the East Coast of Bali.
Oct 21 – Diving Tulamben and Travel to Padangbai
The main and important reason to travel to Tulamben is to a wreck dive. The USS Liberty was a cargo ship that was sunk over 60 years ago by a torpedo from the Japanese forces. The wreck is just 50 meters offshore, so you can do a shore dive, meaning you can get all your gear on and wade out to the water vs. take a boat and do a backward roll off the side into deep water. I took two dives on this wreck and both were beautiful, ghostly, and haunting. To see this human-made leviathan of steel taken over by the sea is something totally unique. Sea life has infiltrated the ship, turning its grey frame into a multicolored aquarium of teeming life. But somehow, you can still imagine that people crewed this ship, and that other people, for some insane reason, decided that trying to sink the ship and kill as many people as they could on board was a good idea. I’ll never really understand that, you know? But that’s a totally different conversation and if anyone wants to ask me what I think of warfare and people murdering other people because some government said to do it, I’ll be happy to sit down with a beer and some peanuts and have that conversation.
Anyhow…
These dives were the third and fourth times I’d dove this site, and my wonder was no less than the first two times. I saw two blue spotted stingrays, nestling themselves down into the sand, as well as conquered a bit of my mild claustrophobia by doing some tight swimthroughs. The experience was amazing all around, including prompting me to think about war, the wonder of human engineering, and ultimately, the absolute power and perfection of nature – the Gaia, as it’s been called.
After these two dives, we packed up and high tailed it off to Padangbai, a launching point for our next destination.
We checked into this gorgeous hotel room, complete with all the amenities including a pool bar, an in room fridge with minibar, a TV with satellite and a DVD player, and this unbelievable outdoor bathroom complete with a black stone garden and Buddha fountain. The bathroom, really, was something that I just can’t get over. It’s a little disconcerting, at first, to have a pee on a regular toilet and shower in the open air – different from camping since it’s so posh and luxurious. But I got used to it, anyway ;-) If only the Bay Area was warm enough for something as cool as that! And of course, we got this beautiful room for a mere pittance.
We had one of the most amazing meals of my travels in Bali at a restaurant down the street, which was architected and decorated in all ways Balinese. I’m sure the food was great, but it was especially great after a strong glass of arak, a strong Balinese liquor, which really sneaks up on you, if you know what I mean. The owner was an outgoing Balinese woman who greeted us at our table and chatted with us for a while. I have to point out that it’s been refreshing and wonderful to see women in active roles here in Bali. Definitely a change from Egypt and India, where most women are mostly kept quiet and tucked away, save for a few here and there. Shrimp crackers, spring rolls, Cap Cay, and arak. Seriously, the food here is absolutely spectacular. Textured, sweet, tangy, salty, spicy, all in the same bite!
It’s time to go diving! We caught the Parama boat (a 48 passenger, motorized outrigger) to Nusa Lembogan, one of a gathering of small islands off the Southeast corner of Bali. These islands are known for their excellent diving, and I was eager to get started. Chilling today at the homestay, and tomorrow, diving! Oct 16 – Nusa Lembogan What a crappy night’s sleep! I think the sheets had been washed in ocean salt water and not totally dried or something. Ugh. Super itchy all night. Dreams of ants crawling all over my body. Itchy itchy itchy. And of course, not quite awake enough to do something sensible like get my sleep sack from my backpack.
Coffee to get started and off to the dive shop down the coral encrusted beach. This kind of beach is absolutely beautiful because it’s mostly made up of chunks of bleached white coral. However, don’t think of going barefoot in it unless you want your feet to get thoroughly chewed by the stuff. Very sharp.
I was a little nervous because it had been some time since my last dive – maybe about five years. I did some refresher reading from my diving instruction book so was ready for at least setting up my tanks, BCD (buoyancy control device), reg and all that good stuff that keeps you alive under 20 meters (or more) of water. The thing that made me nervous was the actual dive.
Some of you might know that the reason that I started diving was to overcome a mild phobia of the ocean. That fear still sits with me even though I’ve completed some pretty advanced dives in various conditions. See, the first time you go in the water after a long break can be scary. You’re breathing out of a tube, surrounded by another world of creatures and plants. The water changes your vision, your weight, your movement. And it’s BIG. Another statement by Ms. Obvious, but seriously, it’s hard to get really how BIG it all is until you’re under there. It’s massive and since you don’t have gills, you get that, really, you’re not necessarily supposed to be there.
So going down the first time after a while, you can get a little panicky, which is absolutely the worst thing you can do if you’re diving. When you’re nervous or anxious, you not only suck up all your air faster, but you just don’t get to experience all the wonder you possibly could that’s there (and you feel a little like a dolt because you’ve made your dive buddy or divemaster surface much sooner than anyone else).
Once we arrived at the dive site, Pura Mesgading, and I came off the back of the boat, I just tried to breeeaaathe. Did I say you’re breathing out of a tube and you can’t surface unless it’s an emergency? Breeeatthhe… Crazy fish and plant life… brreeeaaatthhe… trying to get your buoyancy adjusted so you don’t shoot to the surface or sink to the bottom… breeeaaatthhhe…
A moray eel! How cool is that?? Beautiful coral in light pink, peach, purple. Gorgeous, multicolored fish of all shapes and sizes darting this way and that or just lazily riding the water from here to there. Blue, green, orange, pink, fuchsia plants waving gracefully in the current. It’s all so beautiful! Breeeatthe…
As the minutes passed, I became more relaxed into the experience and my “dive legs” began to return. Then, before I knew it, it was time to surface, complete my three minute, five meter safety stop and hop back onto the boat to travel to the next dive site.
The group was hoping to see a mola mola on this trip. Everyone was, in fact, rooting for it. The mola mola is also known as the sunfish – a very large flat fish, shaped like a sun that you’d see drawn in a children’s painting. For a pic of the sunfish, check out http://www.starfish.ch/collection/pelagics.html. Amazing, isn’t it? Something totally prehistoric looking. These are pretty difficult to spot, but if you’re lucky, you may find him languidly flapping his very big fins about, coasting out into deeper waters. On this next dive, I was just really excited. I had my initial nervousness out of the way and was ready to get in the flow (so to speak) and just drop into the ultra present state you can get into while diving.
Immediately, when the first diver dropped into the water, she shouted, “There’s a sea snake and a mola mola!” Wow, two creatures not often seen on a typical dive, one of which is horribly poisonous and can easily kill a human. Supercool! I got in the water as soon as I could and there he was, the kooky looking but somehow gorgeous mola mola. He was just slowly flapping his fins, out toward the open ocean, not bothered at all by these strange, rubber clad creatures in the water staring at him with total awe and complete delight. It’s the great thing about nature, I think… just how truly neutral it is. No plans, no malice, no nothing. Just being. And fortunately, no sea snake, though a part of me was disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to add that to my dive log.
This dive was in Crystal Bay, which proved to be very challenging. After spotting the mola mola, the dive got underway and we hit a very strong current that wanted to suck us all out into the open ocean. The divemaster had us all grab onto a rock face and hang on so that we didn’t get separated and drawn away. This current also brought in pushes of freezing cold water, which was shocking against the warmer water we’d been diving in. The current and cold water also affected the visibility, much like in the desert when you see the heat rising off the desert floor making everything appear wavy and distorted. It was wild and I was glad that, by that point, I had become more comfortable under the ocean. Still, it was quite and experience, and besides the mola mola, the most notable thing about the dive.
We surfaced, and the rest of my day was spent resting and relaxing on the beachfront, looking out at the beautiful ocean and all the seaweed farmers tending to their crops. The main cash crop out of Nusa Lembogan is seaweed. The farmers grow large fields of the stuff just off the beach, and the fields become invisible or exposed depending on the tide. Like any farmer, they (they being mostly women) tend to the crop every day, growing, harvesting, drying, and packaging up their crop for shipment to processing plants that turn this crop into carageenan, an emulsifying agent that’s used to thicken ice cream, cheese, and other products. The labor that this takes is quite intensive, but a new crop can mature in as little as 45 days. Think of that next time you have a big scoop of triple chocolate fudge brownie delight!
That evening, I watched the sun set over the island, enjoying the warm air and sweet ocean breeze on my skin.
Tonight, I sleep with the sleep sack!
Oct 17 – Nusa Lembogan to Pemuteran
We caught the Perama boat back to the mainland and hired a private driver to transport us and all our worldly possessions to the exact opposite side of Bali. Just a note here that hiring a private driver is just a little more expensive than taking a bus, and with a driver, you get A/C plus stops along the way to sightsee and take pictures. We decided the additional 10 bucks or so was worth it.
The driver went through the center of Bali, through the purple blue mountains, the lush forest, the vibrant green rice paddies. The mountainous country in Bali is spectacular. Looking from the top of a peak, you can see miles and miles of valley, flat and fertile and flourishing. Everything seems so *alive*. If humanity were to disappear, all houses, buildings, mosques, temples would be covered completely within 10 years, and broken apart and decaying within 20 -- *that’s* how alive it feels. And I love that feeling. There’s this sense that nature is definitely in control, not humans. And I think that this feeling demands a kind of respect, a kind of acknowledgement of the force of nature from those living there.
We reached Pemuteran after four hours of driving and settled into a beautifully decorated Balinese style bungalow, complete with a high vaulted ceiling with a grass roof over large beams, a beautifully carved teak canopy bed and other furnishings, and frangipani flowers laid out in patterns on the bedding and nightstands. And the icing on the already delicious cake? This was rented for about $20 a day (breakfast included). As the sun set, I walked along a deserted black sand beach and admired the incredible beauty that seems to be everywhere, in some form or other, in Bali.
Oct 18 – Pemuteran
My search for the perfect flip flops continues. In India, I bought “The Flesh Eaters”. In Bali, I swapped out the Flesheaters for “The Planks”. But The Planks are pretty damn comfortable, despite their plankiness. The last time I was in Bali, I bought a miraculously comfortable pair of flip flops for like, $1.50 that, when you wore them, you felt like you were barefoot, except better and more velvety. When those finally broke back in the U.S., I was heartsick. Now, I’m hoping that The Planks will be the magical replacements. We shall see…
I hung out on the beach, just about a 10 minute walk up the main road. Pemuteran is really just a small village with a few resorts, markets, and dive shops, plus small huts/houses for those who work in or own those establishments.
The beach in Pemuteran is gorgeous. Fine black sand on one side of a jetty, and fine white sand on the other. Today, I simply laid on a lounge chair in the hot hot sun, listened to music on my iPod, read my book, and swam in the ocean. Another perfect and amazing day in paradise.
Tomorrow, diving!
Oct 19 – Pemuteran
What strikes me about Bali is how beautiful everything is. When you’re at the beach, you can appreciate the azure ocean, the white and black sand beaches, the view to the mountains, towering and hazy in the far distance. And when you’re inland, you can appreciate the lush greenery, from the many different types of palm trees, to the giant elephant ear leaves, to the vines, spilling out over the trees and off the cliffs, to the ancient looking ?? that look like they were once food for the dinosaurs. And throughout it all, there’s the incredible food and the beautiful Balinese children. And I feel like all of this is only the beginning of my whole perception of Balinese nature and culture.
Diving today!
The first site was called the Eel Garden located in the Taman National Bali Barat, or West Bali National Park). This includes 7000 hectares of coral reef and coastal waters. The dive was absolutely flawless. Great temperatures above the water and under. Loooog visibility. Beautiful animal and plant life. I saw my first lion fish, which are poisonous to people, but absolutely beautiful to see. Check out http://divegallery.com/lionfish.htm for a spectacular picture of these amazing creatures. The dive is called Eel Garden for a reason. Upon approaching a sandy bar on the ocean floor, a hundred or so small snakelike eels peeked their heads about six inches above the sand to wave their heads and bodies in the water and capture food. Seeing their bodies gently swaying in the soft surge was like seeing a tall grass waving in the wind. At first, I thought they were vegetation, but when I approached, their little bodies disappeared inside their holes and then reappeared after we passed them. For a view into what I saw, visit http://www.richard-seaman.com/Wallpaper/Nature/Underwater/Misc/RedSeaGardenEels.jpg. I also saw the ghost pipefish (see http://www.calacademy.org/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=13353) as well as the venomous stonefish, both of which simply look exactly like where they live. The ghost pipefish is tiny… I mean really tiny, and it lives on coral that looks exactly like it. And the stonefish looks exactly like a rock sitting on the reef. It’s uncanny how these creatures have adapted and learned how to best protect themselves and how best to feed themselves. I think that, above the water, we might be so used to seeing how this happens, or even be very separated from nature in our urban environments that we’ve forgotten how completely miraculous it is. And when you’re under the water, you get to experience the wonder of it all, all over again because it’s so unique and strange. I often feel like a kid when I go under… constantly in awe and wonder, my eyes wide and sometimes even laughing out loud through my regulator. If I didn’t have to breathe through my reg, I’d also have my mouth agape.
We surfaced after a very relaxing and wondrous dive and stopped at an abandoned island for lunch, which consisted of some completely delicious Balinese food prepared old school, traditional style. Have I already mentioned how utterly fantastic Balinese food is? We chatted with the divemaster, who, like many divemasters who I seem to encounter, are more hardcore, cussing, tattooed sea pirate than anything else. We snorkeled a bit and then our surface time was up so we could get back in the H2O.
The second dive that day was called “The Bat Cave”. Another spectacular, relaxing, beautiful, perfect dive with all the right conditions and all the amazing plant and animal life. Here I saw the spaghetti worm, orange and black and white striped clownfish who would sneak out from their waving anemone homes to curiously check me out then dart back into their anemone homes when I reached out to make contact with them, big sea slugs, parrotfish rainbow bright multicolored and feeding on the coral, and more, stonefish, hiding away on their rocks and stoically peering up and curious divers. There were so many other species of fish, and too many to name. And I don’t even know where to begin with the plant life and coral!
Here’s an entry I wrote to a friend after I took these very impactful dives…
Well, something wonderful happened while I was diving the other day. I was in Pemuteran diving the West Bali National Park and I had that Moment. You know, the Moment when you lose yourself, when you feel the ancient ocean holding you, when you feel like you’ve returned, like you’re part of something antediluvian… mystical. You’ve become connected to the All, and you are the All. And the All is magnificent and beautiful and awe-some. And you’re humbled that this is what it IS and that you’re really part of something so monumental, so deep, so indescribable. There are simply no words. Several times, I was so deeply moved under the water I had to hold back tears… I was so moved by the power of this universe, this planet, this ocean. There is simply no other experience in Nature that I’ve had as big as the ones I’ve had under the ocean. And I’m filled with this intense gratification that can only come from that experience.
I love diving. I just really love it. It scares me, it thrills me, it connects me to Nature.
This is what diving is becoming to me. More, more more…
Oct 20 – Pemuteran to Tulamben
On our way out of town, we stopped at a temple, perched on a cliff face and overlooking the ocean. Carvings of dragons and gods (and dragon gods), fierce and protective, balanced on the outside of the temple and over the temple gates. A large and intimidating carving of Garuda hovered over the exit of the temple, gazing with his piercing visage out over the ocean crashing up against the black rock. Stairs led down the exit, descending down to the water, where you could see more, smaller temples carved into the cliff face.
I entered wearing the traditional sarong and sash, provided by a temple guardian. Inside, several people were dressed in traditional Balinese garb, completing their afternoon of worship, kneeling on the ground, palms pressed together and held to the forehead and frangipani flower perched atop, then bowing with forehead to the ground while prayers were chanted.
Many pictures and then on to Pulaki Temple, just across the road. This temple was filled with macaque monkeys, and none too friendly, either. In fact, they were a little confrontational and aggressive for my own comfort. Despite the monkeys running wild, several devotees continued on with their prayers. That’s devotion.
After fleeing Monkeyville, we continued on through the countryside and arrived at Air Panas Banjar, a hot springs area popular with locals and Balinese, Indonesian, and Western tourists. Eight fierce-faced stone naga pour water from a natural hot spring into the first bath, which then overflows via the mouths of five more naga into a second, larger pool. In a third pool, water pours from a 3 meter high spout to give a pummeling massage. This is all set in an incredibly tropical and verdant setting – green green everywhere, layer upon layer of green and highlighted with spots of purple, fuchsia, and pink flowers. As I was soaking in the pools, the rain started and then transformed into a tropical downpour. Everything seemed wet, moist, humid, muggy, sultry, dripping, soaked through and through. It was weird and sort of uncomfortable and completely splendid.
After getting as dry as possible (not very dry, really), we departed and finished our trip to arrive in Tulamben on the East Coast of Bali.
Oct 21 – Diving Tulamben and Travel to Padangbai
The main and important reason to travel to Tulamben is to a wreck dive. The USS Liberty was a cargo ship that was sunk over 60 years ago by a torpedo from the Japanese forces. The wreck is just 50 meters offshore, so you can do a shore dive, meaning you can get all your gear on and wade out to the water vs. take a boat and do a backward roll off the side into deep water. I took two dives on this wreck and both were beautiful, ghostly, and haunting. To see this human-made leviathan of steel taken over by the sea is something totally unique. Sea life has infiltrated the ship, turning its grey frame into a multicolored aquarium of teeming life. But somehow, you can still imagine that people crewed this ship, and that other people, for some insane reason, decided that trying to sink the ship and kill as many people as they could on board was a good idea. I’ll never really understand that, you know? But that’s a totally different conversation and if anyone wants to ask me what I think of warfare and people murdering other people because some government said to do it, I’ll be happy to sit down with a beer and some peanuts and have that conversation.
Anyhow…
These dives were the third and fourth times I’d dove this site, and my wonder was no less than the first two times. I saw two blue spotted stingrays, nestling themselves down into the sand, as well as conquered a bit of my mild claustrophobia by doing some tight swimthroughs. The experience was amazing all around, including prompting me to think about war, the wonder of human engineering, and ultimately, the absolute power and perfection of nature – the Gaia, as it’s been called.
After these two dives, we packed up and high tailed it off to Padangbai, a launching point for our next destination.
We checked into this gorgeous hotel room, complete with all the amenities including a pool bar, an in room fridge with minibar, a TV with satellite and a DVD player, and this unbelievable outdoor bathroom complete with a black stone garden and Buddha fountain. The bathroom, really, was something that I just can’t get over. It’s a little disconcerting, at first, to have a pee on a regular toilet and shower in the open air – different from camping since it’s so posh and luxurious. But I got used to it, anyway ;-) If only the Bay Area was warm enough for something as cool as that! And of course, we got this beautiful room for a mere pittance.
We had one of the most amazing meals of my travels in Bali at a restaurant down the street, which was architected and decorated in all ways Balinese. I’m sure the food was great, but it was especially great after a strong glass of arak, a strong Balinese liquor, which really sneaks up on you, if you know what I mean. The owner was an outgoing Balinese woman who greeted us at our table and chatted with us for a while. I have to point out that it’s been refreshing and wonderful to see women in active roles here in Bali. Definitely a change from Egypt and India, where most women are mostly kept quiet and tucked away, save for a few here and there. Shrimp crackers, spring rolls, Cap Cay, and arak. Seriously, the food here is absolutely spectacular. Textured, sweet, tangy, salty, spicy, all in the same bite!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Back online -- Blog post about Bali, from Thailand
I feel bad about not posting for a while, Bali was quite a whirlwind and I didn't post anything the whole time I was there. So here is some catchup -- from Thailand. These are a collection of pictures that I happen to like from Bali, they are a little diverse.
The first picture here was of a young girl who was performing a traditional Balinese dance -- Legong. The costumes were beautiful, detailed, and intracate, and wow check out the crazy makeup. The interesting/cool thing about this particular dance is that she and her partner both kept their eyes closed the whole time while sidling about the courtyard of a temple -- and there was fire :-) There was a guy dressed up like a horse running around the courtyard walking on hot coals and kicking them almost but not on top of the tourists from the Midwest.
This last one is a from the door lintel above the entrance to a temple. I love the contrast with the general character of Bali, which seems relaxed, friendly and gentle. Imagine seeing this every time you went to worship.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Leh and Delhi, India; Bali, Indonesia
Oct 8 - Leh
Not much today except for some gift shopping. One comment is that negotiating here is so much more pleasant and reasonable than what I’ve experienced in the rest of India. I experience Leh as simply a more peaceful place all around.
This evening, we went to a Tibetan restaurant/bar. It had traits of the bar that you see in the beginning of “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” -- a bit cleaner, a bit better lit and instead of a hardcore drinking match for entertainment, there was a TV blaring soccer and cricket matches. A large group of Indian military officers came in and began to pass around the whisky bottle. The other patrons, all men, were also drinking their large beers and smoking up a dense cloud. One used his cell phone as a tinny radio and started blaring Indian pop music, too, just for some extra mood noise.
What occurred to me was that this was the Leh version of a he-man sports bar. And I was the only woman in the place. It was a funny moment (funny ha ha and funny strange).
Oct 9 - Leh
A five-hour trip car trip to Pangong Tso Lake, one of the largest lakes in Asia, which bridges both India and Tibet. Dirt roads -- and sometimes no roads -- just driving through large patches of water , hoping we’d make it to the other side without stalling or getting stuck. Large Tata trucks (Tata is the SE Asian equivalent of rolling the Caterpillar, General Electric, Lipton, and a few other major corporations all together into one big, superrich conglomerate) carrying Tibetan and Indian road workers driving along the pass. Every so often, the trucks would let a few workers off to work on the “roads”. With no machinery available, the workers used simple tools like small hammers to break up rocks or bundles of stiff reeds to sweep the roads clear of rocky debris. This boggled my mind, thinking of the length of time it must take these workers to get anything significant done. And as soon as it’s done, I assume that everything would need fixing/cleaning again so the cycle would start over? I guesstimate that it would take three workers four weeks to do what one heavy machine could do in one-half hour in the US. No wonder the workers were able to lay down in the middle of the road and take a nap.
The one other interesting part of this excursion: I can now say that I traveled through the second highest mountain pass in the world.
Oct 10 - Leh and back to Delhi
Early morning, we caught out plane back to Delhi, where in 36 hours, we’d depart India for Bali, Indonesia. I was sad to leave Leh, wondering again if I’d ever see it’s solitary beauty, stand in awe of the Himalayas, or exchange a friendly Namaste with a smiling local resident. I suppose I may be called back since it’s hard for me to be separated from the places and people I love for too long.
Oct 11 - Delhi
Today was an administrative day, but no less of an adventure than other days in India. Dealing with businesses and government offices in India seems almost as much of an adventure than taking a trek to the far reaches to see some ancient monument.
From what I’ve experienced, businesses in India operate very differently and with a very different work ethic than in the US. An obvious statement, I’m sure, but odd and often frustrating when experienced first hand. At best, there seems to be a laissez-faire attitude (for lack of a better term) toward clientele, and often times, what would appear to a Westerner as outright apathy in those employees who seem to serve primarily Indian customers.
For instance, visiting the Delhi DHL office (a US-based logistics company with offices and shipping centers all over the world). One of the two employees was listening to his walkman the whole time we were there, even though there was another client waiting in line behind us. The woman who served us was knowledgeable about the paperwork but said, “I can’t take a credit card for payment because the paper tape in the machine is out.” Instead of simply looking in her supply drawer to get a new roll of paper tape and reload the tape in the machine (a three minute job -- I know because I’ve done it a hundred times before at my college job), she just said that they can’t take credit cards. She just simply didn’t want to go through the minimal effort to do it. So after some urging, I convinced her to load up the tape and the transaction was completed.
What may seem idleness or inefficient to us is simply normal to those who experience the system every day, if you know what I mean.
After the DHL experience, a visit to the post office to ship some other gifts home via “slow boat”. Really, this wasn't much different than visiting the post office in the US. The main difference between these two government offices was the lines. I've described “lines” in India before, and this was a beautiful example of the pure chaos of many people wanting to get served right now, and too many people at that. At one point, a young Indian man blatantly stepped right in front of me in the jumbled line and I when I said “Ahem, excuse me, there’s a line here,” his reply was a smirk and a smug “No problem”. He didn’t budge from his place about ½ inch in front of me . After one full month in India by this time, I had really reached my limit with this stuff. I stuck my pointy little elbow right into his solar plexus and needled him out of my way with a, “Yes, there is a problem. Go to the back of the line.” Feeling a little like I was submitting to a system that I didn’t agree with, but still standing my ground, he begrudgingly moved to the back of the line where he obviously complained to another Indian man about me in Hindi and they had a good laugh at my expense. Ahh well, the joys and absurdities of traveling in India.
Later that day, after all the scurrying about trying to get envelopes and packing materials, shipping things, standing in lines, and all that rubbish, I visited the Baha'i Temple in another part of the city.
If you’ve never seen this amazing place, take a look at http://www.terragalleria.com/pictures-subjects/traditional-asian-temples/picture.traditional-asian-temples.indi38505.html (sorry for the long URL). Isn’t it amazing? In fact, this design was used as the inspiration for our Burning Man project, Temple of the Deep, back in 2002 and 2003 (see http://draves.org/pix/frame3.cgi?zoom=1&dir=2002-09-burningman&file=DSC00170.JPG).
The structure is amazing. All sacred geometry and inspiration. Everything pure form and line and harmony and beauty. Everything painstakingly designed, architected, and constructed. Another structure for the glory of God.
What struck me as much as the structure itself, were the Baha'i worshippers who had volunteered to staff the site and guide tourists through their visit. They were from all over the world, Indian, English, Australian, Pakistani, American, Canadian, and so on. This is perfectly in alignment with one their core beliefs – diversity and togetherness – the oneness of humanity. Others include:
- Equality of women and men
- Harmony of science and religion as two complementary systems of knowledge that must work together to advance the well being and progress of humanity
- Elimination of prejudice
- Establishment of a world commonwealth of nations
- Recognition of the common origin and fundamental unity of purpose of all religions
- Spiritual solutions to economic problems and the removal of economic barriers and restrictions
- Abolition of extremes of poverty and wealth
- Adoption of a world auxiliary language, a world script, and a uniform and universal system of currency and weights and measures
Fascinating! It sounded great to me and so I secured an invitation to the Information Center at the temple site. Inside was a beautifully laid out history, as well as historic religious texts, of the Baha'i faith. It was like a museum with Baha'i docents there to answer all your questions about the Baha'i faith. I engaged in a conversation with a docent/follower about Baha'i in order to get a better idea, first hand, of what the faith prescribed. One thing in particular I found interesting was the idea of the harmony between science and religion. “How does the Baha'i faith resolve this, especially since religion contains absolutes while science doesn’t?” I asked him. I loosely quote his response here, “Prophets from other times had teaching relevant to what was happening at the time that they taught. For instance, the reason that the Bible taught not to eat pork was that pigs weren’t being slaughtered properly at the time and so carried disease. It made sense to make a religious law that said ‘Don’t eat pork unless I, a holy man, kill it in the appropriate way.’ Now, that kind of law doesn’t really matter. People know how to prepare meat so that it doesn’t make people sick. In Baha'i, if doctrine said to not eat meat and then that law became irrelevant because of advances in understanding, the faith would change that law. As science helps us understand, so the laws of the faith can change to suit the times so that it’s most relevant and most useful.”
I love it. Really, the whole thing sounds pretty great. However, I did end up throwing a few stumpers out there, which got me quizzical looks in response. For instance, I asked “So the Baha'i faith says that there is an afterlife and that’s where we’re meant to be – in the arms of God. What if a scientist proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was no afterlife? How would the Baha'i faith respond to that?” I was asked to repeat the question several times, which I obliged. I just got that perplexed look, like he simply couldn’t understand what I was asking. The response I received was something like, “But the faith states that there is an afterlife…” and again with the kind of sputter and quizzical look. I was sorry that I’d stumped him because he was so kind and gentle during our conversation. And I was also sorry because, of all the world’s religions I’ve studied, this looked extremely promising.
Something that I found that I kept bumping up against in India – the spiritual capital of the world – was this idea of the fallibility of many organized religions and my own struggle to resolve them and find faith, hope, and maybe even answers in a very difficult, confused, and confusing world.
I’m still considering all of this, and it may be that I’ll consider it further for the remainder of my time here on planet Earth. But who knows? Perhaps Maitreya Buddha will come on down and answer all my questions? It could happen.
Regardless, when I return home, I plan to do some more research into the Baha'i faith. The structure of the faith and the way in which they “govern” themselves is very, very compelling and if nothing else, I’m sure I could learn a lot about decentralized, organizational dynamics and large, non-hierarchical group decision-making, which could prove very useful considering recent discussions about various communities – both existing and yet to be formed – in the Bay Area.
Oct 12 – Goodbye India, Hello Indonesia
We departed India after the lovely final chaos of the Delhi airport. We arrived in Singapore in order to catch the connecting flight to Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia.
Wow! The Singapore airport was cleeeeeeaaaannn! I mean spotless. It was freaky after the month of constant grunge of India. Everything was tidy and neat and shiny and sparkly! Everything was well maintained, polished, preened, organized, linear, and orderly! I realized that I didn’t have to put gobs of hand sanitizer on every time after I touched something. It was a complete mindbender. I had some food, sanitarily prepared by the food court employee who came completely outfitted with plastic gloves, plastic apron, and all. Seriously, it was wild. And, there were free, fast internet connections! I ordered a birthday present for a friend from Amazon.com and checked my email. Luxury!
Then off to catch the connecting flight to Denpasar.
We arrived in Kuta in mid-evening. As those of you know who have been to Bali, Kuta is the bacchanalia capital of the island and it comes complete with Starbuck’s, KFC, Dunkin Donuts, Billabong, Dolce & Gabbana, and Polo by Ralph Lauren (plus many more). Kuta is to Australians as Cancun is to the U.S. Raucous college and high school aged kids come here to party hard for their break, and those Aussies know how to drink and smoke. The main strip is lined with nightclubs and ultra lounges serving cheap but luxurious food and strong cocktails and showcasing live DJs spinning Middle-Eastern and Asian inspired trance as well as four-on-the-floor booty and disco house for all you ladies in the place.
On my last visit to Bali in 2001, I arranged it so that I skipped over Kuta entirely. Drunken college kids falling down yelling “BRO! More BEER!” at each other in obnoxious voices isn’t really much my cuppa tea, you know?
But, because of our late arrival and a full day of tiring traveling, we needed to get a room in Kuta for the night. Traffic on the strip was brutal, but we finally got to a hotel and checked in. Truthfully, after the hard travel of India, it was nice to sit in a clean, ultra modern, tres cool restaurant with great lighting and good chill music and have a cold Bintang (the beer of Bali) and some superdelish spring rolls. Somehow, we steered clear of the alpha party goons that night, and had a lovely, relaxing first night in Bali.
Oct 13-14 – Sanur
Next day, breakfast in Kuta and the decision to move on to Sanur, another beach resort town just about 15 minutes drive from Kuta and on the east coast of Bali. For the next two days there was much chilling in a beautiful hotel room set on a lush, tropical garden, soaking up the sun on a chaise while reading a book only to take breaks for a dip in the pool, and dining on amazing fresh fish at one of the cafes on the beach during the breathtaking sunsets.
It felt like a much needed vacation from the last month of tough travel. It was paradise.
Not much today except for some gift shopping. One comment is that negotiating here is so much more pleasant and reasonable than what I’ve experienced in the rest of India. I experience Leh as simply a more peaceful place all around.
This evening, we went to a Tibetan restaurant/bar. It had traits of the bar that you see in the beginning of “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” -- a bit cleaner, a bit better lit and instead of a hardcore drinking match for entertainment, there was a TV blaring soccer and cricket matches. A large group of Indian military officers came in and began to pass around the whisky bottle. The other patrons, all men, were also drinking their large beers and smoking up a dense cloud. One used his cell phone as a tinny radio and started blaring Indian pop music, too, just for some extra mood noise.
What occurred to me was that this was the Leh version of a he-man sports bar. And I was the only woman in the place. It was a funny moment (funny ha ha and funny strange).
Oct 9 - Leh
A five-hour trip car trip to Pangong Tso Lake, one of the largest lakes in Asia, which bridges both India and Tibet. Dirt roads -- and sometimes no roads -- just driving through large patches of water , hoping we’d make it to the other side without stalling or getting stuck. Large Tata trucks (Tata is the SE Asian equivalent of rolling the Caterpillar, General Electric, Lipton, and a few other major corporations all together into one big, superrich conglomerate) carrying Tibetan and Indian road workers driving along the pass. Every so often, the trucks would let a few workers off to work on the “roads”. With no machinery available, the workers used simple tools like small hammers to break up rocks or bundles of stiff reeds to sweep the roads clear of rocky debris. This boggled my mind, thinking of the length of time it must take these workers to get anything significant done. And as soon as it’s done, I assume that everything would need fixing/cleaning again so the cycle would start over? I guesstimate that it would take three workers four weeks to do what one heavy machine could do in one-half hour in the US. No wonder the workers were able to lay down in the middle of the road and take a nap.
The one other interesting part of this excursion: I can now say that I traveled through the second highest mountain pass in the world.
Oct 10 - Leh and back to Delhi
Early morning, we caught out plane back to Delhi, where in 36 hours, we’d depart India for Bali, Indonesia. I was sad to leave Leh, wondering again if I’d ever see it’s solitary beauty, stand in awe of the Himalayas, or exchange a friendly Namaste with a smiling local resident. I suppose I may be called back since it’s hard for me to be separated from the places and people I love for too long.
Oct 11 - Delhi
Today was an administrative day, but no less of an adventure than other days in India. Dealing with businesses and government offices in India seems almost as much of an adventure than taking a trek to the far reaches to see some ancient monument.
From what I’ve experienced, businesses in India operate very differently and with a very different work ethic than in the US. An obvious statement, I’m sure, but odd and often frustrating when experienced first hand. At best, there seems to be a laissez-faire attitude (for lack of a better term) toward clientele, and often times, what would appear to a Westerner as outright apathy in those employees who seem to serve primarily Indian customers.
For instance, visiting the Delhi DHL office (a US-based logistics company with offices and shipping centers all over the world). One of the two employees was listening to his walkman the whole time we were there, even though there was another client waiting in line behind us. The woman who served us was knowledgeable about the paperwork but said, “I can’t take a credit card for payment because the paper tape in the machine is out.” Instead of simply looking in her supply drawer to get a new roll of paper tape and reload the tape in the machine (a three minute job -- I know because I’ve done it a hundred times before at my college job), she just said that they can’t take credit cards. She just simply didn’t want to go through the minimal effort to do it. So after some urging, I convinced her to load up the tape and the transaction was completed.
What may seem idleness or inefficient to us is simply normal to those who experience the system every day, if you know what I mean.
After the DHL experience, a visit to the post office to ship some other gifts home via “slow boat”. Really, this wasn't much different than visiting the post office in the US. The main difference between these two government offices was the lines. I've described “lines” in India before, and this was a beautiful example of the pure chaos of many people wanting to get served right now, and too many people at that. At one point, a young Indian man blatantly stepped right in front of me in the jumbled line and I when I said “Ahem, excuse me, there’s a line here,” his reply was a smirk and a smug “No problem”. He didn’t budge from his place about ½ inch in front of me . After one full month in India by this time, I had really reached my limit with this stuff. I stuck my pointy little elbow right into his solar plexus and needled him out of my way with a, “Yes, there is a problem. Go to the back of the line.” Feeling a little like I was submitting to a system that I didn’t agree with, but still standing my ground, he begrudgingly moved to the back of the line where he obviously complained to another Indian man about me in Hindi and they had a good laugh at my expense. Ahh well, the joys and absurdities of traveling in India.
Later that day, after all the scurrying about trying to get envelopes and packing materials, shipping things, standing in lines, and all that rubbish, I visited the Baha'i Temple in another part of the city.
If you’ve never seen this amazing place, take a look at http://www.terragalleria.com/pictures-subjects/traditional-asian-temples/picture.traditional-asian-temples.indi38505.html (sorry for the long URL). Isn’t it amazing? In fact, this design was used as the inspiration for our Burning Man project, Temple of the Deep, back in 2002 and 2003 (see http://draves.org/pix/frame3.cgi?zoom=1&dir=2002-09-burningman&file=DSC00170.JPG).
The structure is amazing. All sacred geometry and inspiration. Everything pure form and line and harmony and beauty. Everything painstakingly designed, architected, and constructed. Another structure for the glory of God.
What struck me as much as the structure itself, were the Baha'i worshippers who had volunteered to staff the site and guide tourists through their visit. They were from all over the world, Indian, English, Australian, Pakistani, American, Canadian, and so on. This is perfectly in alignment with one their core beliefs – diversity and togetherness – the oneness of humanity. Others include:
- Equality of women and men
- Harmony of science and religion as two complementary systems of knowledge that must work together to advance the well being and progress of humanity
- Elimination of prejudice
- Establishment of a world commonwealth of nations
- Recognition of the common origin and fundamental unity of purpose of all religions
- Spiritual solutions to economic problems and the removal of economic barriers and restrictions
- Abolition of extremes of poverty and wealth
- Adoption of a world auxiliary language, a world script, and a uniform and universal system of currency and weights and measures
Fascinating! It sounded great to me and so I secured an invitation to the Information Center at the temple site. Inside was a beautifully laid out history, as well as historic religious texts, of the Baha'i faith. It was like a museum with Baha'i docents there to answer all your questions about the Baha'i faith. I engaged in a conversation with a docent/follower about Baha'i in order to get a better idea, first hand, of what the faith prescribed. One thing in particular I found interesting was the idea of the harmony between science and religion. “How does the Baha'i faith resolve this, especially since religion contains absolutes while science doesn’t?” I asked him. I loosely quote his response here, “Prophets from other times had teaching relevant to what was happening at the time that they taught. For instance, the reason that the Bible taught not to eat pork was that pigs weren’t being slaughtered properly at the time and so carried disease. It made sense to make a religious law that said ‘Don’t eat pork unless I, a holy man, kill it in the appropriate way.’ Now, that kind of law doesn’t really matter. People know how to prepare meat so that it doesn’t make people sick. In Baha'i, if doctrine said to not eat meat and then that law became irrelevant because of advances in understanding, the faith would change that law. As science helps us understand, so the laws of the faith can change to suit the times so that it’s most relevant and most useful.”
I love it. Really, the whole thing sounds pretty great. However, I did end up throwing a few stumpers out there, which got me quizzical looks in response. For instance, I asked “So the Baha'i faith says that there is an afterlife and that’s where we’re meant to be – in the arms of God. What if a scientist proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was no afterlife? How would the Baha'i faith respond to that?” I was asked to repeat the question several times, which I obliged. I just got that perplexed look, like he simply couldn’t understand what I was asking. The response I received was something like, “But the faith states that there is an afterlife…” and again with the kind of sputter and quizzical look. I was sorry that I’d stumped him because he was so kind and gentle during our conversation. And I was also sorry because, of all the world’s religions I’ve studied, this looked extremely promising.
Something that I found that I kept bumping up against in India – the spiritual capital of the world – was this idea of the fallibility of many organized religions and my own struggle to resolve them and find faith, hope, and maybe even answers in a very difficult, confused, and confusing world.
I’m still considering all of this, and it may be that I’ll consider it further for the remainder of my time here on planet Earth. But who knows? Perhaps Maitreya Buddha will come on down and answer all my questions? It could happen.
Regardless, when I return home, I plan to do some more research into the Baha'i faith. The structure of the faith and the way in which they “govern” themselves is very, very compelling and if nothing else, I’m sure I could learn a lot about decentralized, organizational dynamics and large, non-hierarchical group decision-making, which could prove very useful considering recent discussions about various communities – both existing and yet to be formed – in the Bay Area.
Oct 12 – Goodbye India, Hello Indonesia
We departed India after the lovely final chaos of the Delhi airport. We arrived in Singapore in order to catch the connecting flight to Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia.
Wow! The Singapore airport was cleeeeeeaaaannn! I mean spotless. It was freaky after the month of constant grunge of India. Everything was tidy and neat and shiny and sparkly! Everything was well maintained, polished, preened, organized, linear, and orderly! I realized that I didn’t have to put gobs of hand sanitizer on every time after I touched something. It was a complete mindbender. I had some food, sanitarily prepared by the food court employee who came completely outfitted with plastic gloves, plastic apron, and all. Seriously, it was wild. And, there were free, fast internet connections! I ordered a birthday present for a friend from Amazon.com and checked my email. Luxury!
Then off to catch the connecting flight to Denpasar.
We arrived in Kuta in mid-evening. As those of you know who have been to Bali, Kuta is the bacchanalia capital of the island and it comes complete with Starbuck’s, KFC, Dunkin Donuts, Billabong, Dolce & Gabbana, and Polo by Ralph Lauren (plus many more). Kuta is to Australians as Cancun is to the U.S. Raucous college and high school aged kids come here to party hard for their break, and those Aussies know how to drink and smoke. The main strip is lined with nightclubs and ultra lounges serving cheap but luxurious food and strong cocktails and showcasing live DJs spinning Middle-Eastern and Asian inspired trance as well as four-on-the-floor booty and disco house for all you ladies in the place.
On my last visit to Bali in 2001, I arranged it so that I skipped over Kuta entirely. Drunken college kids falling down yelling “BRO! More BEER!” at each other in obnoxious voices isn’t really much my cuppa tea, you know?
But, because of our late arrival and a full day of tiring traveling, we needed to get a room in Kuta for the night. Traffic on the strip was brutal, but we finally got to a hotel and checked in. Truthfully, after the hard travel of India, it was nice to sit in a clean, ultra modern, tres cool restaurant with great lighting and good chill music and have a cold Bintang (the beer of Bali) and some superdelish spring rolls. Somehow, we steered clear of the alpha party goons that night, and had a lovely, relaxing first night in Bali.
Oct 13-14 – Sanur
Next day, breakfast in Kuta and the decision to move on to Sanur, another beach resort town just about 15 minutes drive from Kuta and on the east coast of Bali. For the next two days there was much chilling in a beautiful hotel room set on a lush, tropical garden, soaking up the sun on a chaise while reading a book only to take breaks for a dip in the pool, and dining on amazing fresh fish at one of the cafes on the beach during the breathtaking sunsets.
It felt like a much needed vacation from the last month of tough travel. It was paradise.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Leh, Ladakh, India (Part 2)
Oct 7 - Leh, Ladakh, India (cont.)
A tour today via car. The Indus River is beautiful. I don't know whether it's the type of light produced by being at such a high elevation, the kind of soil, or some other environmental aspect, but the Indus River is a color I've never seen in a river before. Do you know what taffeta is? It's a fabric that is woven in such a way so that two or more colors are reflected depending on how the light hits the fabric. The Indus River is like this. In one second, the river is an amazing shade of milky jade, the next a deep forest, the next, violet, the next deep purple. Set against the jagged peaks of the Himalayas, the river was a curling ribbon, waving its way through the austere countryside.
We arrived at the Hemis Gompa (Monastery). Gunther has written a bit about this lovely place, already, but I wanted to add a few experiences.
I felt like I was living in a dream here. For years and years, I've been exposed to images of Tibetan Buddhism, to the somewhat romantic imagery of monks hidden away deep in the mountains, of the haunting sounds of the monks chanting. But to experience these monasteries and their holy residents first hand completely took me by surprise. As much as it was romanticised in my mind through the media, books, classes, and so forth, it was much more dramatic in person because, well, it was so real.
We sat in the back of a large, very old, very ornately decorated hall (picture a huge barn with rafters, but painted every inch with fierce holy images and figures, but ooooolllldddd). In front of us sat clusters of young, novice monks. In the center front, old monks leading the chants of the sutras. But instead of stillness and piety, the energy was high. The novices, ranging between the ages of about 6 and 18, poked each other, whispered and giggled, dropped teacups, and generally horsed around. It was great to see that the monks let the children be children. But at the same time, there was s kind of reverence there, which felt like a given -- always present and part of everything.
Senior monks in the center front looked up and smiled, every so often, at the hijinks of the novices, seeming to appreciate the life and energy of these devotees.
Then, CRASH, gongs gonging, horns blowing, cymbals clashing, a gigantic cacophony sounded as one sutra completed. I tried to take a video (with sound) of this crazy chorus, and I hope it translates well, because honestly, I've never experienced anything quite like it. My ears were ringing! And then, a monk began another sutra, a trance-inducing drone spoken thousands of times through thousands of years, and again the crash and cacophony to punctuate the sutra's completion.
And despite my humility and feeling pretty Western in the midst of witnessing this spectacle, I found that the whole mood was one of family. The novices, full of life, wonder, and energy, the monks, with their authority, wisdom, and stewardship of tradition and values. It all felt so┘ natural, so real, so honest, so human.
It was a true joy to be witness to.
Then, onto the next destination that day, Thisky Gompa. Now, let me open this story with a few points. Our driver didn't speak much English and the guide book that I had didn't say much about any of these monasteries, so I had no idea I was supposed to see anything in particular. I understood that these were visits to local monasteries and that I was there to see the amazing views, the old, old artwork painted on the gompa walls, the architecture, and to get a little view into monastery life.
Preface complete.
Thisky Gompa was a very old gompa. Again, like all of the monasteries that we saw, they were set back from village life. All were tucked into mountainsides, towering and white in the mountain sunlight, silent like sentries keeping watch over the landscape. The square, white sentries were capped with deep red tiled roofs and decorated with splashes of red, burgundy, and burnt orange and punctuated by hundreds of rainbow prayer flags flapping wildly in the bright wind.
Around corners, through low, dark walkways, up bamboo ladders, there were strange paintings of dancing skeletons, fierce and fiery spirits, depictions of the lives of the Buddha and Boddhisatvas. And of course, the view was always phenomenal and unique.
So here I was, in Thisky Gompa, seeing all this, watching the novices play games in the center courtyard, thinking that this was enough -- more than enough. As we were about to leave, a Spanish woman asked one of the novices to open one section of the monastery (the Serzang Temple). His little feet padded across the courtyard and up the stairs and his little fist knocked on a closed, shuttered window. Another monk, about 17, emerged, rubbing his eyes. He'd been roused out of his afternoon nap. Trudging down the stairs, across the courtyard, and up the stairs again to the closed section. A gigantic key for a gigantic lock and the door opened.
Now, I was thinking, “Gosh, that was rude of her to have him woken from his nap,” but then, I understood why the Spanish woman had asked for someone to open the door. She knew what was behind it.
Inside was a two story high, golden and copper statue of the Maitreya Buddha.
It was awesome (in the most literal sense of the term). His head was decorated ornately in a beautiful multicolored crown. His eyes were painted in blue and black and smiled serenely and lovingly outward. Around his neck was painted various fine gold chains and strings of pearls. The “fabric” of his vestments were painted in elegant detail. His hands posed in delicate mudras. The whole scene was completely surprising and gorgeous. Around him, on the top floor (the floor I was on), were life-sized statues of Boddhisatvas, and of course, the whole temple was covered wall to wall in ornate religious paintings. It's impossible to describe the stature of this icon -- even by saying that he's 25 meters high, cuts through two floors of the temple that houses him, and simply radiates inspiration. All of him put in the whole setting, huge mountains, solitary landscape, unusual, friendly, spiritual people, singular architecture -- the whole thing was one Big Moment.
(A useful aside)
For those of you who may not know who Maitreya Buddha is -- Maitreya is a Bodhisattva who will appear on Earth, achieve complete enlightenment, and teach the pure Dharma (path to enlightenment). Maitreya Bodhisattva will be a successor of the Sakyamuni Buddha, the Buddha we all currently know. The prophecy of the arrival of Maitreya is accepted by most Buddhists as a statement about an actual event that will take place in the distant future, much like the Christian belief in the second coming of Christ.
(Back to our story)
After much open-mouth gazing, many pictures, and a donation later, it was sadly time to move to the next destination. It was hard to leave this place. Many times, as I’ve been traveling in India, I’ve felt glad to go to the next destination, leaving behind some difficult memories and looking forward to creating better memories at the next stop. But this time, as I felt many times in Leh, I didn’t want to leave. I felt a kind of sadness, knowing that I might never see all of this again, and that even if I did return, I’d return as a different person in a different place in my life. This was a unique and beautiful moment in time, one that could never be duplicated. And isn’t it poetic that the Buddha said that attachment is suffering? And here I was, right in the middle of that.
Letting go into the next stop -- Shey Palace. Again, this was a place that took my by surprise. With no guidance, we looked around the palace, which was ramshakle to say the least. Obviously, it was very old and it seemed somewhat deserted and let go. There were very few monks around, and the ones we saw were ancient. It was like a ghost monestary, cobwebs, temples falling apart, frayed, faded, and shredded prayer flags barely hanging on by a thread. It didn’t feel alone and regal, it felt desolate. I was about the give up and simply appreciate how old this place was when Gunther, in all his boyish curiousness, decided to go through a small door in the side of a temple. It wasn’t more than a hobbit hole, really, and looked like it lead to more abandoned desolation. I waited. And waited. And waited. Where was he?! In a huff, I popped through the small door myself and followed along the natural route that looked like it had been walked a million times. And there -- again! A huge golden and copper statue of the Buddha! This time, it was a 12 meter high statue of the Sakyamuni Buddha coiffed in blue. The same serene gaze, the gorgeous, delicate, and intricate painting decorating him, the all knowing, all loving look and peaceful posture of acceptance.
He was watched over by a very old monk who made sure that those coming to see Sakyamuni were respectful. Around the Buddha were various altars with other Boddhisatvas, and surrounding those were piles of offerings -- flowers, trinkets, beads, jewels, money. The monk seemed to get a real charge out of us. He would point to something and then laugh gleefully in a croaky frog laugh. He showed us how an offering of homemade liquor was put in a cascade of cup on cup on cup. When he poured the liquor over the cups, he chuckled and croaked with that great smile on his face, this face that’s smiled a hundred thousand times and will probably smile a hundred thousand more before he’s done with this incarnation.
Another Perfect Moment to add to the growing book of Perfect Moments in Leh.
We departed, with more attachment and sadness, for the next stop, Stok Museum. Again, another building placed off the beaten path. (Is there a beaten path in Ladakh? Not sure about that.) Away from the main road, over dirt and rocks. Stok Museum, unlike the rest of the destinations we visited on this day, was totally unremarkable. The only true entertainment was the museum watchman, who reeked of alcohol. Poor guy. It’s gotta get lonely up there. After seeing a few dusty, dusky clouded glass cases with equally dusty copper tea kettles, kris (sacred knives), Tibetan crowns encrusted in turquois but decaying with age, and framed 5 x 7, black & white snapshots of various Tibetan royalty, we left an concluded the tour for the day.
Food, some TV with lots of snow, and to bed.
A tour today via car. The Indus River is beautiful. I don't know whether it's the type of light produced by being at such a high elevation, the kind of soil, or some other environmental aspect, but the Indus River is a color I've never seen in a river before. Do you know what taffeta is? It's a fabric that is woven in such a way so that two or more colors are reflected depending on how the light hits the fabric. The Indus River is like this. In one second, the river is an amazing shade of milky jade, the next a deep forest, the next, violet, the next deep purple. Set against the jagged peaks of the Himalayas, the river was a curling ribbon, waving its way through the austere countryside.
We arrived at the Hemis Gompa (Monastery). Gunther has written a bit about this lovely place, already, but I wanted to add a few experiences.
I felt like I was living in a dream here. For years and years, I've been exposed to images of Tibetan Buddhism, to the somewhat romantic imagery of monks hidden away deep in the mountains, of the haunting sounds of the monks chanting. But to experience these monasteries and their holy residents first hand completely took me by surprise. As much as it was romanticised in my mind through the media, books, classes, and so forth, it was much more dramatic in person because, well, it was so real.
We sat in the back of a large, very old, very ornately decorated hall (picture a huge barn with rafters, but painted every inch with fierce holy images and figures, but ooooolllldddd). In front of us sat clusters of young, novice monks. In the center front, old monks leading the chants of the sutras. But instead of stillness and piety, the energy was high. The novices, ranging between the ages of about 6 and 18, poked each other, whispered and giggled, dropped teacups, and generally horsed around. It was great to see that the monks let the children be children. But at the same time, there was s kind of reverence there, which felt like a given -- always present and part of everything.
Senior monks in the center front looked up and smiled, every so often, at the hijinks of the novices, seeming to appreciate the life and energy of these devotees.
Then, CRASH, gongs gonging, horns blowing, cymbals clashing, a gigantic cacophony sounded as one sutra completed. I tried to take a video (with sound) of this crazy chorus, and I hope it translates well, because honestly, I've never experienced anything quite like it. My ears were ringing! And then, a monk began another sutra, a trance-inducing drone spoken thousands of times through thousands of years, and again the crash and cacophony to punctuate the sutra's completion.
And despite my humility and feeling pretty Western in the midst of witnessing this spectacle, I found that the whole mood was one of family. The novices, full of life, wonder, and energy, the monks, with their authority, wisdom, and stewardship of tradition and values. It all felt so┘ natural, so real, so honest, so human.
It was a true joy to be witness to.
Then, onto the next destination that day, Thisky Gompa. Now, let me open this story with a few points. Our driver didn't speak much English and the guide book that I had didn't say much about any of these monasteries, so I had no idea I was supposed to see anything in particular. I understood that these were visits to local monasteries and that I was there to see the amazing views, the old, old artwork painted on the gompa walls, the architecture, and to get a little view into monastery life.
Preface complete.
Thisky Gompa was a very old gompa. Again, like all of the monasteries that we saw, they were set back from village life. All were tucked into mountainsides, towering and white in the mountain sunlight, silent like sentries keeping watch over the landscape. The square, white sentries were capped with deep red tiled roofs and decorated with splashes of red, burgundy, and burnt orange and punctuated by hundreds of rainbow prayer flags flapping wildly in the bright wind.
Around corners, through low, dark walkways, up bamboo ladders, there were strange paintings of dancing skeletons, fierce and fiery spirits, depictions of the lives of the Buddha and Boddhisatvas. And of course, the view was always phenomenal and unique.
So here I was, in Thisky Gompa, seeing all this, watching the novices play games in the center courtyard, thinking that this was enough -- more than enough. As we were about to leave, a Spanish woman asked one of the novices to open one section of the monastery (the Serzang Temple). His little feet padded across the courtyard and up the stairs and his little fist knocked on a closed, shuttered window. Another monk, about 17, emerged, rubbing his eyes. He'd been roused out of his afternoon nap. Trudging down the stairs, across the courtyard, and up the stairs again to the closed section. A gigantic key for a gigantic lock and the door opened.
Now, I was thinking, “Gosh, that was rude of her to have him woken from his nap,” but then, I understood why the Spanish woman had asked for someone to open the door. She knew what was behind it.
Inside was a two story high, golden and copper statue of the Maitreya Buddha.
It was awesome (in the most literal sense of the term). His head was decorated ornately in a beautiful multicolored crown. His eyes were painted in blue and black and smiled serenely and lovingly outward. Around his neck was painted various fine gold chains and strings of pearls. The “fabric” of his vestments were painted in elegant detail. His hands posed in delicate mudras. The whole scene was completely surprising and gorgeous. Around him, on the top floor (the floor I was on), were life-sized statues of Boddhisatvas, and of course, the whole temple was covered wall to wall in ornate religious paintings. It's impossible to describe the stature of this icon -- even by saying that he's 25 meters high, cuts through two floors of the temple that houses him, and simply radiates inspiration. All of him put in the whole setting, huge mountains, solitary landscape, unusual, friendly, spiritual people, singular architecture -- the whole thing was one Big Moment.
(A useful aside)
For those of you who may not know who Maitreya Buddha is -- Maitreya is a Bodhisattva who will appear on Earth, achieve complete enlightenment, and teach the pure Dharma (path to enlightenment). Maitreya Bodhisattva will be a successor of the Sakyamuni Buddha, the Buddha we all currently know. The prophecy of the arrival of Maitreya is accepted by most Buddhists as a statement about an actual event that will take place in the distant future, much like the Christian belief in the second coming of Christ.
(Back to our story)
After much open-mouth gazing, many pictures, and a donation later, it was sadly time to move to the next destination. It was hard to leave this place. Many times, as I’ve been traveling in India, I’ve felt glad to go to the next destination, leaving behind some difficult memories and looking forward to creating better memories at the next stop. But this time, as I felt many times in Leh, I didn’t want to leave. I felt a kind of sadness, knowing that I might never see all of this again, and that even if I did return, I’d return as a different person in a different place in my life. This was a unique and beautiful moment in time, one that could never be duplicated. And isn’t it poetic that the Buddha said that attachment is suffering? And here I was, right in the middle of that.
Letting go into the next stop -- Shey Palace. Again, this was a place that took my by surprise. With no guidance, we looked around the palace, which was ramshakle to say the least. Obviously, it was very old and it seemed somewhat deserted and let go. There were very few monks around, and the ones we saw were ancient. It was like a ghost monestary, cobwebs, temples falling apart, frayed, faded, and shredded prayer flags barely hanging on by a thread. It didn’t feel alone and regal, it felt desolate. I was about the give up and simply appreciate how old this place was when Gunther, in all his boyish curiousness, decided to go through a small door in the side of a temple. It wasn’t more than a hobbit hole, really, and looked like it lead to more abandoned desolation. I waited. And waited. And waited. Where was he?! In a huff, I popped through the small door myself and followed along the natural route that looked like it had been walked a million times. And there -- again! A huge golden and copper statue of the Buddha! This time, it was a 12 meter high statue of the Sakyamuni Buddha coiffed in blue. The same serene gaze, the gorgeous, delicate, and intricate painting decorating him, the all knowing, all loving look and peaceful posture of acceptance.
He was watched over by a very old monk who made sure that those coming to see Sakyamuni were respectful. Around the Buddha were various altars with other Boddhisatvas, and surrounding those were piles of offerings -- flowers, trinkets, beads, jewels, money. The monk seemed to get a real charge out of us. He would point to something and then laugh gleefully in a croaky frog laugh. He showed us how an offering of homemade liquor was put in a cascade of cup on cup on cup. When he poured the liquor over the cups, he chuckled and croaked with that great smile on his face, this face that’s smiled a hundred thousand times and will probably smile a hundred thousand more before he’s done with this incarnation.
Another Perfect Moment to add to the growing book of Perfect Moments in Leh.
We departed, with more attachment and sadness, for the next stop, Stok Museum. Again, another building placed off the beaten path. (Is there a beaten path in Ladakh? Not sure about that.) Away from the main road, over dirt and rocks. Stok Museum, unlike the rest of the destinations we visited on this day, was totally unremarkable. The only true entertainment was the museum watchman, who reeked of alcohol. Poor guy. It’s gotta get lonely up there. After seeing a few dusty, dusky clouded glass cases with equally dusty copper tea kettles, kris (sacred knives), Tibetan crowns encrusted in turquois but decaying with age, and framed 5 x 7, black & white snapshots of various Tibetan royalty, we left an concluded the tour for the day.
Food, some TV with lots of snow, and to bed.
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