One Month in Bangkok

Yes, I am back again, catching up. But I promise it won’t be nearly as long as the last one!! At least, I don't think it will...

I spent September in Thailand, consulting on a cross-border avian influenza project for FAO. To get there, I took an overnight flight from London, arriving in the afternoon on 2 September. Suffice to say, I had no idea that the government had declared a State of Emergency that day. I took a taxi to the Lamphu Tree Hotel, which I had found online. It is a very cute, clean, and comfortable hotel a short walk from the FAO office, the Democracy Monument, and Khao San Road. I highly recommend it!

Stacie was in town from Jakarta and staying at a hotel next door to FAO. I was anxious to meet up with her and so sent a text message that I was on my way to find her. She replied that earlier there had been a lot of shouting in the street outside her hotel, and that metal doors had been closed over storefronts early in the afternoon. I decided to try, anyway. After getting directions from the guy behind the desk, I walked down the large street across the canal from my hotel. When I got to the last major intersection before the river, the road I wanted to take was barricaded with stacked tires, barbed wire, and sentries. I decided to try an alternate route through a much smaller alley way. Although many of the storefronts were shuttered, there were a few people out and about. At the end of the alley, across from FAO, there was another pile of tires with a bit of barbed wire. However, one could walk past it, and several people were doing just that. Looking around the tires I saw a few people in the street with motorcycle helmets and yellow shirts, all with baton-like weapons, such as baseball bats or bamboo staffs. They didn’t seem to care about any of the other folks bypassing the alley barricade, so I darted across the street and into the New Siam Riverside Hotel. After a beer or two, we decided to head out for dinner. We looked both ways, saw a few more folks with helmets and batons, and then dashed across into the alley. Too bad I didn’t have my camera…

It turns out that one of the leaders of the opposition (PAD) party had a residence and a TV station at the end of the street running past FAO. The PAD supporters barricaded off the street in case other forces, such as the pro-government supporters, tried to interfere with the residence or the TV station. Inexplicably, FAO had been the only UN agency in Thailand to be open on that Tuesday morning, even though it was on a barricaded street with armed demonstrators out front. By lunchtime, they had wisely decided to close and evacuate everyone from FAO. However, no one mentioned that to Stacie, who was working quietly at a borrowed desk. So she worked there all day. It made me glad I decided to stay a bit away from the FAO office! I got a few emails from folks who heard about the state of emergency and were worried about me. I had decided, though, to stay where I was because my hotel was a bit hidden away from the main thoroughfares and all the Thais were telling us that the protests were not directed towards foreigners. The next morning the street was still barricaded but more stores were open and more people were going about their daily lives. The day after that, the tires were piled up against the outside wall at FAO, but no more barricades were erected while I was there. Nearly all the demonstrators were amassed at the protest camp surrounding the government house, much closer to the regional UN offices.

The FAO office is in an old section of town, along the river. There are 2 buildings – a lovely old house called Maliwan Mansion that apparently was built for the mistress of a royal, and the other, larger, very uninspiring office building. The mansion has settled in its riverbank foundation, so walking along the sloping, yet lovely, hardwood floors and stairs leaves one with a feeling of disorientation. Or drunkenness. Your pick. I really liked the building. The big building hosted a small cafeteria with outdoor, riverside seating. Bug repellant in hand, I had many morning coffee meetings while watching the river traffic go by. On occasion we would also have a simple, inexpensive but really good lunch there, too. However, I usually preferred to go out and explore other venues for yummy Thai food.

My typical work day started out with a few minutes of CNN to allow my brain time to wake up before getting out of bed. I would get ready and go down to breakfast, where Aman, the server, was awaiting me. With CNN to catch me up on the overnight happenings, I would happily tuck into my orange juice, fruit, one large banana pancake, bacon, and coffee. Every now and then I would have scrambled eggs or an omelet, but the banana pancake was just so light and yummy! Each morning I would usually take a tuk-tuk, or 3-wheeled motorcycle taxi, to work. It was just too darn hot to walk. I don’t like to start my day at work with sweat already running down my back! Bangkok was definitely hotter and more humid than Jakarta. I had been given a desk in the old building, in a room I shared with Jonathan R, a visiting Animal Health Economist from FAO HQ in Rome. I had met JR while working in Jakarta, and it was a pleasure to get to work with him again. We would frequently meet the other Jonathan (JG), the Regional Economist based in Bangkok, for our coffee-by-the-river meetings. JR has a love for fresh coconut milk, so often the 3 of us could be seen sipping fresh juice from chilled coconuts through straws. Lunch was usually a walk down the street somewhere for Thai food.

Yes, Thai food on and just off the street in Thailand is better than Thai food in a restaurant somewhere else. Pad thai just means fried noodles and could be found everywhere. The curries and tom yum were sometimes quite hot but always delicious. My absolute favorite, though, was a mild coconut milk soup with crab, flavored with lemon grass, ginger, and who-knows-what else. Sooo good! I had it at a smaller, less fancy backpacker restaurant that Stacie found for us. I definitely went back for more. I also really liked stir fries with cashew nuts. And, of course, mango with sticky rice for dessert. Between all the yummy Thai food and beverages with FAO colleagues, no wonder I left well-insulated for China’s cold winter! There was one restaurant open late at night that I would walk past on my way to my hotel. It seemed to be the kind of place you could order anything, and the smells were generally very inviting. Sadly, I never quite mustered up the courage and Thai language skills to give it a try. Next time!

Stacie was around for my first week in Bangkok. Lots of catching up by the pool, exploring the nightlife, and indulging in spa experiences. All too soon, she had to go. I managed to see a few of the other city sights – Wat Po (Reclining Buddha Temple), the traditional Thai massage school, the amulet market, and parts of the river. I had seen the King’s Palace when I was here in 1995 so didn’t do it again. Taking the public river boat was a great way to see Bangkok from a different vantage point; I highly recommend it. JR and I made a shopping excursion one day, ending with a riverside cocktail at the venerable Oriental Hotel. They didn’t want to seat two sweaty, backpack-toting ruffians, such as ourselves, where we might spoil the view or their image. Unfortunately for them, a prime table opened up at just that moment, so we plunked down. And enjoyed the classic Bangkok location.

What else to say about the city? Hmmm. My favorite place to go is the weekend market. You can buy pretty much anything there – it is huge! I managed to only buy a few items; I just had too much to haul around already. And, just to prove how small of a world it is, while at the market I ran into two friends from the diving course on Bali. After leaving the market that day, JR and I just managed to escape a heavy downpour by hopping onto the Sky Train. An umbrella is a must during the rainy season in Bangkok! My Teva sandals were also having some serious delamination issues, which I guess isn’t unexpected since I have had them for 13 years. And they have never been resoled. There was a shoe repair guy who would sit out on the sidewalk on my way to FAO, so I had him glue my Tevas back together. It was fun to watch him work; he was so diligent. So far so good. The soles seem to be staying on pretty well since he worked on them!

For one of my few weekends in Thailand, I went down to Pattaya for a diving trip. Now, if you have heard of Pattaya, it was probably because of its, well, lascivious reputation. It certainly isn’t for the diving. A small group of us, mostly from FAO, had formed and planned our weekend away. I had brought my dive mask to Thailand with me, on the off chance I would get to go diving. Unfortunately, though, I didn’t have room for my lovely new wetsuit!

I drove down with a woman from the regional UN office. We got a bit lost leaving the city but were soon on our way. Getting to the right place in Pattaya was more of a challenge than getting the right road out of Bangkok. The directions given to us by the dive center were minimal and not very good. As it turns out, that was pretty representative of my whole experience with them. To make matters more difficult, there was a power outage in the section of town where we were headed. Not only did we have trouble figuring out the right street, but we could no longer even see the streets! Fortunately, two guys from the center came out to the street corner carrying glow sticks. Aha! Problem solved. We grabbed drinks and dinner with the dive team before checking in to one of the many cheap hotels lining the streets. At least they had A/C and hot water. And only one hair on the bedsheets. Thank goodness I had brought my own sleeping sheet to cower in! Too bad a mosquito bit me several times right through it…

The next morning, we got up early to sit and wait at the dive center. Let’s just say things were about as organized as the directions they had given us to find them the night before. After my truly wonderful experiences with Bali Scuba, I was suitably unimpressed by these guys. In fact, it began to make me a little anxious about diving with them. We drove about an hour south to catch our dive boat out to some small islands that are part of a big navy base. The boat left from a fishing marina and passed small islands out to the dive site. It was a beautiful day. The boat was long and built for diving, with a large dive platform and lots of space for tanks and equipment. The woman who organized the trip had recently completed her Open Water certification and was about to catch her first dive since her training. She was my buddy. We had initially been told we would go out with her dive instructor, but a change in plans had us going out with a relatively new addition to the dive center staff. We sat out the first dive at a wreck site that was too deep for us. As much as I love wreck diving, it was ok to miss that one because the wreck is spread out, it is deep - so the dive lasts only a few minutes at the actual site, and it is dark due to the depth. More sun on the deck seemed fine with me.

At last we reached the site of our first dive. Our dive master had not been to that site before. It was to be a shallow dive to look at some islands of coral reef. My buddy was nervous, but that wasn’t unexpected for her first dive in a few months and right after getting certified. We did a thorough check of our equipment and then jumped in. We went down to just a few meters below the surface. The dive master had my buddy practice clearing her mask and then made me do it, too. I don’t like doing it if I don’t have to, because it messes up my otherwise perfectly-clear mask! Most of what we could see was dead coral. While the dive master was trying to figure out where to go, my buddy was out in front, zigging and zagging all over the place. I followed behind so I could keep them in view. After a few abrupt course changes and more squirreling around, they were a few meters in front of me. That’s when my regulator (the part that one breathes through) blocked up. I went to take a breath and there was no air to be had. I tried again and got a mouthful of water. Hmmm. Training never really covered what to do with a mouthful of water instead of air. In the ideal world of a PADI training video, I would have made the ‘out of air’ signal to my buddy and then used her spare regulator. But she was a bit too far away. So was the dive master. And neither was looking behind to see me start to panic. I was eyeing the distance to them … and to the surface … them … the surface … when, finally, the animal part of my brain reminded me that my last breath was still in my lungs and rapidly running out. I went for the surface. Thank goodness it was a shallow dive. If it had been deep, I would have been in more serious trouble.

Now, you readers who are also divers will think, um, why didn’t I use the purge valve? You know, to purge the regulator. That’s what it is for. And to that I would reply, “Good thinking!” Only I wasn’t thinking about that. I know I had a purge valve. But the neurons that make up that reaction pathway weren’t wired yet when I was down there choking on my last breath. Another option would have been to reach for my own spare regulator. Duh. DUH! Again, I was lacking that particular reaction. In training, they teach you to go for your buddy’s spare regulator if there is a problem. That was the only trained reaction I had and there was no room for clear thinking of other alternatives with the surface and survival urgently beckoning.

Shortly after I reached the surface, coughing and appreciative to take big deep breaths of the sky, the dive master popped up next to me. I told him what happened. I suggested that, silly me, I should have gone for my spare. He told me that the best option would have been to go for my buddy’s. Um, that’s ok if the buddy is near enough. (Which, incidentally, is kind of the dive master’s job – to make sure people keep together and out of trouble.) We hailed the boat to come get us, and I decided to have them change out my regulator so we could finish our dive. The rest of the dive went well, although we were always too shallow to see much coral. After a very uninspired lunch, we made our second dive at a different site. Again, this one was pretty shallow but the coral was soooo much better. My buddy stayed a lot closer, and it ended up being a great dive. Lots of clown fish to see!

That evening we had dinner with some of the dive guys and then we, the 3 remaining ladies from our UN group, went to check out the famed “Walking Street.” It was a busy street crowded with restaurants, clubs, bars, shops, vendors, and signs. The allure is supposed to be the unrestricted sexuality. Honestly, I only saw one club with women pole dancing. At street level, there really wasn’t anything risqué to be seen. We planted ourselves across the street from a Thai boxing ring to watch the boxing and the people walking by. It was some of the best people-watching I have ever seen. Many nationalities going past, but the Indians were the easiest to pick out. They looked the most sheepish and uncomfortable. We wanted to find the street called Boys’ Town (or something like that) but somehow kept missing it. Verdict: I highly recommend Walking Street for the people-watching, but don’t expect to get an eyeful unless you leave the curb.

The next morning my dive buddy went out diving again, but I chose to indulge this time in terrestrial pleasures. I wen riding went horseback riding with the woman I drove down with and Willy, a guy who keeps horses outside Pattaya. He is German and has lived in Thailand for a long time. I hadn’t planned to ride and so was very inappropriately dressed. I wore capri pants and Teva sandals! Willy lent me a helmet and half chaps before putting me up on Ivan. Although a bit lazy, he was a nice enough horse. Good attitude. And it was wonderful to be back on a horse again! We rode between pineapple and cassava fields, up into the hills where we could look down on Pattaya. It was lovely.

Overall, a good weekend with some valuable lessons learned about selecting dive centers and buddies, keeping my dive buddy close, visualizing multiple options to a problem – ahead of time, and maybe carrying some sort of noise maker to get attention underwater. I hope those lessons are hard-wired in before I need to use them again!

My other trip outside Bangkok took me to northeast Thailand at the border with Laos, along the Mekong River. JR and I, and another woman from the office, went to visit 3 provinces that have had HPAI outbreaks in the past. Very early, we flew up to Udon Thani and then drove to Nong Kai . We had an early lunch – one of the best meals I ate in Thailand. (The best meals are usually found in the field!) There were thin rice pancakes that we filled with herbs and greens, pieces of chicken, and other seasonings before rolling them into awkward spring rolls. There were other spring rolls filled with greens and other delicious bits. I was instructed on the proper dipping sauce for each roll type. It was all sooo good! And then I had a dessert with coconut milk and chilled gelatin. Yum.

We met with local authorities and then a nice man who lost all his layer chickens in the last outbreak to hit that area. The poultry houses were on pilings over fish ponds, where the manure would fall through the slatted floor to feed the fish. After our visit there, we made a 400km drive to Nakhonphanom. Our poor driver had been up since 2am to bring the vehicle up from Bangkok. The roads were quite good, and along the way I kept seeing these vertically-oriented black light tubes, high up on posts, outside many of the houses. Closer to the bottom of the post, another black light tube would stick out from the post, oriented maybe 45 degrees to the ground. There would be a sheet or two of corrugated metal slanting down below the lower light tube. We had some discussion in the car about what the purpose of this arrangement might be, concluding it seemed as though it might trap insects. Indeed, it was confirmed the next day by local officers that the setup catches insects that are used to flavor certain food dishes. Ummm! Sky prawns for all!

We checked in to our hotel at 11pm. The next morning revealed the Mekong River right outside or balconies, sparkling in the morning light. It was a beautiful sight, although somehow not as romantic as I would have pictured life along the Mekong. It was wide and brown. After a substandard Asian hotel breakfast of fried rice, noodles, and bread products, we headed out to meet with the local authorities of Nakhonphanom Province. More discussion about outbreaks, border checkpoints, and control measures ensued. We went as far as the farm gate of a family that had farmed layers for generations. They had gotten HPAI and lost the entire flock. Many farms in the area had all their birds slaughtered, and not all of the farmers returned to raising poultry. A few that did restock formed a cooperative with reasonably high standards of biosecurity and a small feed mill for mixing their own feed. We got to visit an old temple area in the forest along the Mekong that had been the landing point of a group of people from Laos and the start of the community on the Thai side.

Our hotel that night didn’t have quite the view of the previous one, but we did manage to catch drinks up in a rooftop hotel lounge. The next morning we repeated the hotel breakfast and meetings with local officials. We also visited a couple that raised local-breed pigs as part of an effort to expand production of local suckling pigs - a favorite dish. The couple had approximately 20 sows that looked much like wild hogs, and the piglets were black or were brown with spots. The unbelievable thing about their production system is the nutrition. They feed these pigs some wheat bran and fresh plant matter (grass, weeds, whatever) cut from unimproved land surrounding the farm. Seriously, that is it. I really can't imagine pig production with fewer inputs. They get maybe a dozen piglets per sow. Unbelievable! I hope they preserve that breed, because it would be a shame to lose this very well-adapted, highly efficient production system. After our official visits were over, we had a few minutes to check out the riverside market in Mukdahan. Much of what was for sale had come across the river from Laos, some of it originating in China. My favorite were the ladies selling orchid plants. They had photos showing the different types of blooms, but the plants were not blooming and were just laying in piles without even being potted or secured to any kind of substrate. I longingly wished I could buy one but knew it was pure folly in my present transient state. Then it was off to the airport at Ubon Ratchathani and then back to Bangkok.

As much as I enjoyed the yummy meal of spring rolls, I was concerned about eating the uncooked greens. And, boy, did I pay for it later. Our field visit had been Monday through Wednesday. By Friday - before my last weekend in Thailand - I had an unyielding headache and the chills. It wasn’t until Saturday, though, that the return of tropical sprue revealed itself as the source of my angst. This time the acute phase was much worse than when I first got it in Indonesia. I stayed in bed to watch the first presidential candidate debate live but was able to rally for the debate replay hosted that night by Democrats Abroad. I first heard of Dems Abroad while in Jakarta, when we were the first to vote in the primary on Super Tuesday. It turns out they are pretty active all throughout Asia and probably everywhere else. They have a comprehensive instruction list for voting from overseas and lots of support to help people navigate all the paperwork. Very cool!

All in all, I had a good time in Thailand. The food was great, and I enjoyed the work. I wasn’t at all crazy about the heat; that would be hard for me to deal with on a regular basis. The riverside lifestyle and great shopping were also big plusses! I’m sorry I didn’t see much more of Thailand than Bangkok, Pattaya, and part of the border with Laos, but there is always next time…

E

The Very Long Catch-Up

Well, well…

Yes, it has been a terribly long time since I last wrote a blog entry. If there are any dedicated readers left, please accept my apologies! As I said, things in Jakarta life were getting less extraordinary and, therefore, less blog-worthy. I have done a lot since then, but more on that later.

My last several weeks on the Indonesian project consisted of conducting a semi-structured, participatory group discussion with some poultry collection point operators from East Jakarta. The methodology was based on the participatory techniques we teach our PDSR officers to use when trying to find disease in villages. We got these operators to help us understand the different types of commercial poultry coming through the large collection point in East Jakarta and where those birds originate from. Once they got over their nervousness, some seemed to really enjoy the discussion and thanked us for bringing them together in such a forum. The rest of my project time was dedicated to wrapping up the commercial poultry profiling project and presenting final results to a wide group. However, with my time running very short, the analyses I was able to present only just scratched the surface of what can be done with the data. (Pablo has done lots with it since then, and I need to get going on writing up the descriptive study for publication…) Overall, the profiling project was very well-received. Completing the data collection process, seeing that the data will be handed back to the districts and municipalities that participated in the project with us, and knowing that the stellar team at CREATE has gained a well-deserved reputation for good work – which will lead to more contracts – have been the successes of my year in Indonesia.

As my presentations were made on my last working day, and I’m not one for self-aggrandizement, there wasn’t a general office send-off. I felt a bit bad about not reminding many of my work colleagues that my last day was nigh, but it was ok. I caught up with some of them later, including a wonderful Sundanese lunch with the entire CREATE team.

I spent that first week of my ‘contract break’ month of vacation in Jakarta, going to the spa with Stacie’s sister, Ashley, and catching up with friends. My parents then arrived for 2 weeks of what my dad calls a ‘sampler of Indonesia.’ After two days in Jakarta to get a little acclimated, try reflexi (reflexology), learn about the traffic, and get fitted for new batik clothes, we took off for Gili Trawangan, off Lombok Island. I wasn’t quite in vacation mode yet, and getting ripped off while trying to get out to Gili T didn’t help. Somehow I thought it would be a more remote, peaceful location – not the Kuta Beach of the Gilis that it turned out to be! But a morning dive on our second morning seemed to put things straight. It certainly helped that my friend, Kate, had decided to show up, too! We spent one night drinking fruity drinks at Senggigi Beach on Lombok, before heading back to Java.

We left Lombok for Yogyakarta, via the airport in Denpasar. After situating my parents into the Dusun Jogya Village Inn – which is clearly my new favorite hotel on all of Java – and making sure they would be delivered safely that night to the Ramayana Ballet and to Borobudur the next morning, I took off to climb Mt. Merapi with friends. Needless to say, I had trouble with the taxi. I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY TAXI DRIVERS DO NOT LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY!! I was trying to get to a market called Gambing (GAM-bing). Instead, I got dropped off at a market called Kembang (KEM-bang), which I was later told is an area of lots of prostitution. Ok, I may not be a native Bahasa speaker, but I can both see and hear the difference in the two, even when I say it. I think the drivers tend to panic a little at having a bule in their cab and so go with the first thing they THINK they hear. And I also think being a woman doesn’t help. Thank goodness for my borrowed cell phone and Bleem’s patient advice to a different taxi driver to get me where I needed to go. Sigh.

[Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. It certainly wasn’t my last taxi mishap in Indonesia!]

Once I finally arrived at the right place, there was my friend, Bleem, with my lovely orange ACE Hardware backpack, containing my hiking boots and a few other items I hadn’t wanted to take to the Gilis and Lombok. Unik had bailed out, leaving Bleem to lug his gear and mine a full 12 hours or so in the bus. Bleem – I am soooo sorry! [I later made it up to him by giving him the pack and my foam sleeping pad…] We piled into his friend’s car for the ride up to the trailhead. Along the way, we stopped at their ‘spot’ along the road for a dinner of siomay. This very nice couple cooked it up in what is basically their house. It was spicy! But good fuel for the climb. Our next stop was at a guest house / home stay place belonging to a guy who has guided and climbed for many, many years. We saw photos from some of his adventures and sipped some tea before I crawled into my sleeping bag for a short nap before we started climbing.

The trail began further down the road through town, past a few more “lodges” and a cell tower or two. The early part of the trail went past some fields of onions and other root crops but quickly climbed up into forest. When I say quickly, I mean that the trail never had switchbacks. Never. It was a straight shot the whole way. Often on a fairly loose trail that likely never receives any maintenance. We took frequent stops to let our used-to-sea-level lungs catch a bit of a break. At those times, we would tend to turn off our headlamps and enjoy the flickering of the lights in the valley below. Somehow, the flickering of the lights reminded me of sea anenomies swaying with the tide. I had been warned that the wind would be strong and cold. Thanks for the warning, Stacie! Eventually I had all my layers on. We stopped at one rest point to huddle off-trail and make some tea. Thanks, boys! We kept climbing and climbing until we crested a ridge above the treeline and with an incredible view. Although we weren’t at the summit yet, this is where we were to stop for the few hours before sunrise. The guys pitched a tent in the lee of a big boulder, and we all crammed inside for some more warm nourishment. Then I curled up under a sleeping bag and snoozed a while longer.

Somehow, the alarm set to wake us up to start climbing to the summit for sunrise didn’t have the intended effect. So, when I stepped outside of the tent, the sun was just cresting the ridge above us. Oh, well! There really isn’t a clear trail from the campsites to the summit – it is just a steep scramble amongst jagged volcanic rocks. It would have been great to see sunrise from the true summit, but maybe it was better to arrive on the summit alive and unscathed. The few hours of sleep utterly renewed me, and I bolted up to the summit well ahead of my disbelieving male companions. Apparently the summit had been affected in the last eruption, making the other side of the top – separated from us by a chasm steaming with sulfur vents – the highest point. However, we were content to stay on one side and take countless photos. This is Indonesia, people! If you don’t have enough posed photos you probably weren’t actually there!

Then back down for coffee and leftover siomay. (I got into the last of my Clif Bars – thanks Mom and Dad!) As we packed up all of our tent, pads, and gear, and walked out through an adjacent campsite of Indonesians, I wondered if our neighbors were asking themselves about the crazy bule with her four male, Indonesian porters… Or maybe one guide, one cook, and two porters?? The descent down the steep, loose trail may have been harder than our ascent. Honestly. That, or maybe we just took too few breaks. Still too far from the end of the trail, my muscles were so tired that I knew I was at risk of getting hurt from yet another slip on the loose rocks and soil. During one of the many times my feet slipped out from under me, I caught myself with my hands but managed to injure the big muscle in my thumb. I figured it would be the next fall or two that would lead me to worse injury. But, finally, we made it to the asphalt. And then to the homestay.

Only to find that our ride back was not coming.

While wonderful, the whole trip was taking longer than I anticipated. I was a bit concerned about my parents, especially as I had hoped to take my mom shopping in Yogya. We finally arranged a truck to take us back. With no air con and me in the middle on what has to be The Most Uncomfortable Truck Bench Seat on Java, plus Sunday traffic coming back from Borobudur, it was a long ride. I knew I better take in as much of the hills, volcanoes, and rice paddies as I could, because it wouldn’t be long before I was leaving those things behind. We finally reached Yogya, and I made it back to my hotel in time to shower and have what Jenni said was The Best Massage in All of Indonesia. With that kind of recommendation, how could I miss it? Pak Edy is touted to be a bit of a healer, in addition to a masseuse. Otherwise, maybe I would have thought twice about having a strange Indonesian man come to my hotel room to give me a 2-hour massage. While I was naked. Hmmm. Healer skills? I think he has some, yes. Best Massage in All of Indonesia? Um, no. Would I do it again? Only if I could keep some clothes on!

The next morning, it was off to the airport again. At least, as fast as my aching muscles could take me. We flew back to Denpasar, Bali, only this time to stay. We took a taxi to Segara Village in Sanur, which was lovely. After a few checking in issues, (TII, right?), we settled in for a more relaxed day by the pool and walking around Sanur. I darted off to Seminyak to be fitted at Nemo Wetsuits for a full-length, custom wetsuit. Then back to Sanur for dinner at my beloved Stiff Chili. The matre’d remembered me from my first trip to Bali at Idul Fitri and also when I was learning to dive. Mom and Dad enjoyed the food and atmosphere as much as I have.

The next day we got up bright and early to go diving at Tulamben with Bali Scuba. I had given Mom a “Discover SCUBA Diving” experience for Mother’s Day and offered to take Dad snorkeling with us for Father’s Day. Bas, a dive instructor in training, was assigned to my mom for the day, while Dad had another instructor in training to lead the snorkeling group. That left Bert to guide just me around, which was fine with me. It was a lovely day that all enjoyed. I got to see the wreck and sea life much better than I ever had previously – thanks, Bert! It was a fantastic day for playing in the water, and I’m really glad my mom got a chance to try diving again after decades of wanting to. Yea! [Just a note on what was otherwise a great day: do NOT eat at Massimo in Sanur. Abysmal service, mediocre food. Our only real dining disappointment among some otherwise very good meals.]

The next day on Bali was meant for relaxing and shopping, so we did both. We made it to Menega Cafe at Jimbaran for a lovely grilled seafood dinner. Definitely a Bali experience not to miss. The next morning we got up early to head for lovely Ubud. Mom shopped her way up the hills, looking for a small stone figurines. The differences between good and evil spirits were discussed, and we arrived at Murni’s Houses with a few heads in tow. This time we stayed in The Bungalow, which was hidden below the other buildings on the side of the hill. Although we could not see the river below, we could hear it and the birds in the surrounding trees. Again, Murni’s delivers in terms of tranquility and perfectly restful accommodations. After a short rest and good dose of banana juice, we set off for the streets of Ubud. It was high season, and everything was terribly crowded – not the peaceful Ubud I had experienced before. But any concerns about the crowds were alleviated by a good meal at Café. Mom and I shopped around a bit and then crossed over to Beji Ayu for The Best Spa Experience in All of Indonesia. Yes, like Pak Edy’s massage, nakedness is involved. However, a 2-person hot stone massage followed by warm oil pouring on my chakras and then a scrub with spices is infinitely more perfect than even a healer’s massage. Mom got reflexi, warm oil on her forehead, and a massage. All in a room overlooking the rice paddies. Yep, Mom was convinced – the best lil’ spa in Bali. We had dinner at the Dirty Duck – another good meal, although at night the rice paddy and garden views are not seen.

The next morning we made some last-minute shopping runs and then headed back down toward Denpasar. We had to stop while I picked up my wetsuit. It is quite colorful, and I truly felt like I was putting on my super heroine costume, sans cape. Now I really am ready to take on the world! Then it was off to the airport and back to Jakarta. Pak Rial brought us the fantastic batik shirts he had made from cloth I picked up in Tasikmalaya and Ciamis. Really, they turned out so well that I think our family should consider going into batik fashion design. I also took Mom and Dad out for dinner at our local Indian restaurant, Kooh E Noor, so they could try The Best Indian Cuisine in Indonesia. Our challenge after stuffing ourselves with Indian food was to stuff the suitcases with all our booty from Bali and beyond, without going over the airline weight restrictions. Mom renewed my awe in her packing prowess – she managed to get everything in there as well as a bunch of stuff from my apartment I wanted to take back to the U.S.

I was sorry to see them go but was a bit relieved to be still for a little while. I had hoped to get up to see a few sights on Sumatra with Kate, but it was not to be. Too short of notice to get the itinerary we wanted. Instead, I stayed in JKT to visit the spa one last time or two, have lunch and dinner with friends, pack up, move out my plants and terrace furniture, watch the last of my DVDs, and make daily trips to the internet café. I went out one last night with Jeremy, Maria, and Putri. So sad to leave all my party friends behind!

So then it was back to the good ol’ U.S. of A. Dad met me at the airport, and Pashmina apparently was happy enough to see me that I was not punished for my absence by the feline silent treatment. Although the house seemed freezing cold that first day home, it was so nice to be back. I only got to see my parents for a brief time before they took off for Maine. While home, I was able to catch up with several dear friends, gorge myself on berries from Mom’s garden, play with my cat, and do laundry in a most civilized manner. I also had to have a full medical workup (exam, bloodwork, chest x-rays, vision and hearing tests, lung capacity testing, and more!), all so I could be issued with a personal respirator for use in China while employed by USDA. No one has yet explained to me when I might need to actually use the respirator (for Beijing’s pollution? while awaiting evacuation in the event of a pandemic?). Lots of running around Seattle and not enough time to take in everything I wanted to. A good way to recharge the spirit, though!

Pashmina rightly scorned me for packing up and leaving her again. This time I was in the good hands of Fr. Bob and Lorraine, as they were driving down to Napa for an annual vacation. The drive gave us lots of time to catch up during an otherwise hectic trip back in the U.S. for me. It was also good to see the familiar geography and vegetation of the Northwest. All too soon, our drive was over and Fr. Bob handed me off to Tony in Davis. Tony and his fiancée had just merged households, and so space was at a premium. They assured me I was not going to be a burden, so I borrowed a bike and set off to make my way around Davis. Again, people to see and things to do (including, especially, the Farmer’s Market!). It was wonderful to see everyone. My night of tango at Firehouse 5 in Sacramento was FANTASTIC. It felt soooo good to dance again, especially with nice dances and good friends all night long. I managed to combine a tango tribe trip to SF (for a free Bajo Fundo concert!) with a ride to SF for me. I love my tango family and was so glad to get to spend all that time with them. Then I was with my sister and her boyfriend in the chill air of San Francisco for a few days. Another wonderful opportunity to get to spend time with loved ones, including two of my Pretty Pretty Princesses. Alas, I had to leave a few items in my sister’s apartment, as my bags were still to heavy! Then it was off again for the airport…

All told, I only spent about 2 weeks in America. Not long enough, but enough to warm my heart.

Although I was tired from my whirlwind U.S. tour and sorry to leave everyone behind again, I was excited to be on my way. First of all, I was flying business/first class. Secondly, my destination was Portugal and, potentially, other parts of Europe. Third, the only thing on my agenda for the next month was to relax and enjoy myself. Yea! Flying in style certainly makes the trip easier, and my journey seemed to be a breeze compared to crossing the Pacific in economy class. Upgrade whenever you can! Initially, I stayed with a friend in Paco de Arcos, a darling little beachside village just outside of Lisbon. We hit the beach anytime the waves were good for surfing. The sun, sand, and cold ocean waves were just what I needed. I also did a little exploring around and reveled in the beauty of Portugal’s coast. Just shy of a week after arriving, I moved on to a homestay/pension in Cascais, just north of Paco de Arcos. Cascais was previously a summer beach spot for royals and other high society types and has become a fashionable place to hang out. I ate yummy Portuguese food and just sat on the beach as much as I could. It had occurred to me that I really have arrived as Jet Set Vet – working and traveling the world, often staying with friends, and out to save the world. I needed the beach time to wrap my head around the whole thing.

After a few days on my own, my ex-boyfriend, Paulo, came down to pick me up and take me north to visit his farm outside Coimbra. We had already had a very lovely dinner in Lisbon while I was still staying in Paco de Arcos, and it was so wonderful to catch up with him again. I had always wanted to visit his “farm” and now was my chance. I ended up staying for about a week. While he would work (he’s a vet), I would sleep in, make tea, cook with lemons from his trees and eggs from his hens, pick blackberries growing wild around the area, read outside in the sun to the whir of nearby wind turbines (Portugal seems to be investing a lot in wind energy), and walk up and down the road amongst olive trees bordered by stone walls. I met a friend of his who lives in nearby Coimbra, and we met up with her a few times for dinner, drinks, card games, and a trip to the beach. I got to see some of the 2008 Beijing Olympics live and meet Paulo’s very nice British neighbors. Occasionally we would go out for lunch at the local eatery, with relatively simple but always deliciously satisfying Portuguese food. A couple of times I had a very sweet dessert made with a pureed squash, bits of almond, and egg. Overall, my time at the farm was immensely quiet, relaxing, and fun. It left me much more recharged for the adventures ahead.

From Portugal, I went on to London. A trusty colleague from Indonesia met me at the airport and gave me a ride to the outskirts, where I would be staying with my dear friend, Dominique. Dom and I share the same birthday and have a special bond that has sustained us through lots of life’s ups and downs. It was wonderful to see her again! She was house sitting for friends in a village outside central London, so we had the place to ourselves. Lots of catching up over cups of tea and glasses of wine. The morning after I arrived, we got up early to go walking through the country with friends of hers. The weather was in our favor, as we avoided rain on our 10-mile walk through farm fields and along fencelines. However, we were frequently thrust into big patches of nettles where the path was not maintained. It was a lovely walk, bringing us to a pub for a big meal in the middle of the afternoon. We had another glass of cider, while ‘chav’ watching, before hopping on the train that would take us back. A very English kind of day and a wonderful chance to get away from the city.

Although the month of August was mostly set aside for R ‘n R, I had lots of business to attend to, including working out travel arrangements, health insurance, lodging, contracts, etc. One such errand required me to make a trip out to Dover, southeast of London and site of the famous white cliffs. The time had come for me to get fitted for my respirator, and the folks at USDA had pulled a few strings with the U.S. Embassy in London and with DEFRA (the UK equivalent of USDA) to get me this appointment. I caught the train out and was met at the station by a lovely woman from DEFRA. She took me to their office, in an old building overlooking the port and across the path from the beach. I was told that on a clear day one can see France from their office and even, with a good set of binoculars, read the time on the clock tower in Callais! It seemed like a wonderful post to be assigned as a vet. The first respirator model I tried failed right away – I knew it didn’t fit well and would leak air. My first go with the second model also resulted in failure, but we opened a new box to get out an untouched one and cinched the thing on tight. This time it passed. And there were lines on my forehead for more than 2 hours afterward! I hope I never have to use my respirator but am, I guess, glad it is available to me. Thanks to the very kind folks at DEFRA in Dover for their time, effort, and tour guide skills! After we finished, they took me up for a look over the town, port, and chalk cliffs. Then I was set loose downtown to explore a little and take in afternoon tea before getting back on the train to London.

Dom had plans to be out of town for the weekend, so I moved on again to stay at the London School of Economics’ High Holborn Hall Residences in the central part of the city. It was absolutely the most economical place to stay in that part of town, while still being quiet, clean, and very, very convenient to almost everything. What a great find for lodging! I had access to a small kitchen, and they provided a fairly ample continental breakfast. Once I found myself a 24-hour internet café with a scanner, I was all set. I explored central London – British Museum, Tate Gallery, along the Thames, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens – and even found tango just around the corner. It was a great tango venue with traditional music upstairs and nuevo downstairs. I didn’t get many good dances, but I met some fun people and was thankful to be back in the tango environment. On Sunday I attended the sung service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, and it was soooo lovely. I managed to have lunch with Dom one last time before I left, and then it was off to Heathrow again.

Another catch-up installment to come soon, if this one hasn't already bored you to death...

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