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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