Banana Pancakes

I think the song, “Banana Pancakes” by the one and only Jack Johnson, holds new meaning for me after the past week.

Ross and I have laid our heads nightly in the small, coastal town of Pangandaran. ‘Pangandar-what?’, you may be asking yourselves…It’s easier to break up the syllables. Pan-gan-dar-an (pronouncing the A’s the way a Spaniard may--long). I’ll refer to it as “P” from here on out.

Anyway, after spending a considerable amount of time in Bogor, the City of Rain, they call it (and for good reason), we decided to pack our bags and head East to the land of sun and fun. 

P is supposedly the premier beach resort of Java. Where Bali has many a beach to develop a tan, sip ice cold Bintangs on the sand, and frollick in the late summer heat, Java is much more of a country country. Lots of countryside, lots of villages, and a few big cities. So where was the beach? It’s Indonesia, right?

Pangandaran Beach and National Park

After one 3-hour busride, one 45-minute busride, and one grueling 9-hour busride, we had finally arrived in P. It was in the middle of a torrential downpour. As we hopped off the bus, donning ponchos that covered our bodies completely, we stepped into 6 inch thick stream of water flowing steadily down the road. With no cabs in sight, we got smart and headed to the nearest overhang.

A group of older, local men asked if we needed a ride. We said that would be great, so they pointed us in the direction of a few bicycles. Complete with baskets for sitting. Perfect, we thought. At this point, we just needed to get somewhere dry. It was also thundering/lightening so badly I wouldn’t have been surprised to have been struck right there in my bike taxi. The men were saints, and surprisingly decent athletes. They trudged through water so thick I thought for sure we were tipping over at least six times. But, alas, we made it safe, sound, and dripping wet to our guesthouse.

That first night proved to be quite the foreshadowing of our upcoming days in P. Most mornings, we wake up to some thunder and rain, hoping for the promise of a few hours of sunshine to walk around in, and every night I lie in bed awake and sweating profusely, thinking this night for sure will be the one to go down in history as the night P got washed away in a devastating hurricane. So far, no hurricane (knock on wood). 

The best part about these misty mornings, however, is our delectable breakfast that is included in the price we pay per night here. The little woman who spends her mornings in the kitchen for all of us backpackers may as well open her own breakfast hut, cooking big round banana pancakes served with warm chocolate sauce and doling out fresh pineapple. Delicious.

Needless to say, the rain has put a bit of a damper on our vision of laying out beach-side but we don’t care…In a few days we will be on the beaches of Thailand, so keep your fingers crossed the rain won’t be following us there too!

 “Can’t you see that it’s just raining, ain’t no need to go outside… wakin' up too early, maybe we could seep, I’ll make you banana pancakes, pretend like it’s the weekend now… we can pretend it all the time…”

Things I've learned along the way...

Indonesian mothers and fathers adore their children. It is so apparent in a way that is really hard to describe. It's not so apparent when they stuff one or two kids in between the parents on a motorbike with no helmets…but hey, the love is still there. This is one of the smart mothers here:

Children are either enthralled or frightened by us. We catch kids staring at us all day..Most of the time they smile and laugh and try to speak English to us, and sometimes they just stare back blankly--unsure of how to react to such foreign people.

Mosquitos love my blood way more than Ross'. I wake up with at least 4 new bites daily. Ross warns me not to itch, but I can't help it and I end up looking like I got mauled by a bear.

Beer* is extremely hard to come by in Java-- way more so than Bali. The Muslim nations really do not appreciate a good buzz like most Americans do.

They also don't appreciate a good solid American relationship...One hotel that we stopped by had a rule that a couple could not stay in the same room unless they were married. So, we got married...check out our pics on Flickr.**

People in Indo don't know what a washing machine is, much less how to operate one. They also think charging you obscene amounts to hand wash and then hang dry your clothes is OK. It's not, and we have now learned yet another lesson.

I am the only blonde person, and we are very possibly the only tourists, I've seen since the Aussies in Kuta Beach.

Getting into a lime green, open doored van, sweating profusely with 10 strangers is not only happening on the border of Mexico and the US. It's happening right here in Indonesia, and it's called a taxi.

Fried rice with a fried egg on top is pretty much a staple here. We've eaten this dish countless times, in a dozen different ways- with shrimp, chicken, beef, veggies, spicy, with peanuts, you name it... We even had it for breakfast today. 

I can appreciate the impact of Western culture here in Asia mainly because of the abundance of Dunkin Donuts with free wi-fi. (And you wondered how we got online!)

We're almost positive we are eating MSG with every meal.

One of the accountants I worked with asked me how many times I expected to break up while traveling. Luckily, we haven't gotten there yet (knock on wood!) but we definitely are learning a lot about each other..Everyone said traveling together would make us or break us, and I must say I think it is making us...A little stronger every day & with each new shared experience, and it's definitely making us both better at rolling with the punches.

P.S. Keep your comments and emails coming! I get so excited to open my gmail and have emails from you guys..Today when I checked my email I had some lovely, long email updates of friends' lives and it made me so happy :) Thank you!

*Or any alcohol for that matter

**Just keeeding!! :)

Diary of a mosquito bitten, dirty clothed, gin rummy winning wanita (girl)

I know I haven't written in a while--since Ubud in Bali actually--so this next entry is going to be more like a short diary of the past week or so.

After Ubud, Derek, Eric, Ross and I took an illegitimate 'van' cab over to Sanur, which is a port for ferries to take to some of the islands off Bali. We had planned to go to Nasu Lembongan (Lembongan Island), so we set sail after a horrible night's sleep at a guesthouse in Sanur. The old lady (probably 100+ years old) who ran the place sounded like Yoda mixed with Shmeagel from Lord of the Rings--pretty frightening. Getting onto the boat was like nothing I'd ever experienced..knee deep in ocean water, trying to hop onto the small wooden plank before the next wave rolled in. (Imagine playing jump rope and having to time your jump just right as not to hit the rope..)

After a two hour ferry ride, we had made it. I'll skip the boring parts and just skip to when Eric and Derek found our bungalow for the next two days. Wayhu was awesome...close to the beach, had a sparkling swimming pool, and even a cheap cafe on the premises. Still no hot water or AC, but at this point in our journey, we pretty much expect only cold water showers and a fan to keep us cool. We spent the next two days lounging, riding motorbikes around the island and seeing some of the most turquoise waters I've ever seen...Very jungle-esque, and probably what a lot of people imagine "the real Bali" to be like. Only downside of the island was it's..an island...not much to do. So we spent our nights having early dinners and playing cards until we got tired.

The island was officially Derek and Eric's last real trip around Bali before having to jet off to their respective destinations (the Phillipines and Vietnam), so we headed back to Kuta beach, where Ross and I spent the first few nights of our trip, and just relaxed for the night. The next day, we hopped on a flight to Jakarta, Indo's capital. Prior to going to Jakarta, I had heard a lot of negative reviews...Dangerous, concrete jungle, etc...so I wasn't too stoked to be going but we both figured it was a good hub to stay for a day or two before trekking out to Sumatra or somewhere else on the island of Java. We stayed in Jakarta for 2 nights and made a couple great people. Being in Jakarta was difficult for a couple reasons: 1. It is currently Ramadan, and Jakarta (most of Java for that matter) is a predominately Muslim country. That means most of the restaurants, shops, etc are all closed...2. It was pouring rain the first night we got there. We were lucky enough to meet Ben, a traveler from the Bay Area, who's our age. We hung out with him the next day and meandered the winding, trashy streets of Jakarta. We made our way to a section of town called Kota, which the book describes as a charming historic district. If by "historic" they mean literally abandoned and crumbling with street urchins and animals living under tin roofs than yeah, it's historic. All in all, the day was alright--good conversation with a new friend is always a nice pick me up from the dirty monotony that is this city.

We decided to head to a small beach town about 3 hours away from Jakarta...Carita.

Disclaimer: The following is crazy and should never have to happen to anyone. It really does seem like a dream even as I type this...Mom, don't worry...The universe is watching out for us for sure, I know this now because of the following story:

We took the bus to Merak, a main bus hub in south Java. From there, we were supposed to take a taxi to Carita (only 5000 rp (about 5 bucks). No taxis were in sight, and there were motorcycle taxis just waiting for some passengers. So, in the spirit of adventure we climbed on our respective motos. (Keep in mind, this is supposed to be a short ride--only 15 mins max). We got on, with our helmets on and packs strapped to our backs and started to backtrack the way we had come in. That should have been my first clue something was amiss. Then, we went to fill up our tanks. Second clue. Third and final clue something was not quite right, these gentlemen only wanted 1000 rp (Less than a buck! Our lucky day!). But we figured what the heck, and drove off into the midday sun. And drove. And drove. FOR AN HOUR. We didn't stop driving until we were so far out of the way I thought for sure they had misunderstood where we were headed. They said, "This is Carita! 100,000.00 rp please!" Obviously there was a misunderstanding because they had said 1000 each, and now they were saying 100,000 each. Of course these men spoke no English whatsoever. So we gave them 50,000 each after a huge fuss. Feeling broke and just so disappointed we started walking. Mind you, as we are driving into Carita, and passing about 8 towns in between, we see a few guesthouses. Not many though...So, as we start walking back the other direction we feel certain we have to find something...We had basically wasted a day, and 2 days worth of our budget to get there, when all we wanted now was to get the hell out of there. We both uttered more than a couple expletives into the sky, and cursed ourselves for coming to Carita.

We walked for 2.5 hours, in our sandals, shorts, and sweaty t-shirts. The sun had gone down at this point, and we literally had no idea what to do. We only found 2 guesthouses in that span of time, all which were WAY too expensive. My legs had about 10 mosquito bites between them and we even saw a snake skin on the side of road. This situation was not ok.

We were running out of time and options and felt so lost. I don't know if either one of us has ever felt so vulnerable to nature and what lied ahead...Anyway, we were damn thirsty at this point and hadn't eaten anything except crackers since 9am that morning (it was now 7pm). We went across the street to a vendor selling water and snacks. No one was around, so we took the biggest water she had and started opening it, as we ducked around trying to find someone that worked there rather than dart off with the water. A nice lady, probably 30 years old, shows up and we pay her. She can tell we are obviously in a bind so she has us sit and collect ourselves for a minute. In broken English, she explains she has a friend she would like to call for us who speaks English. So Ross gets on the phone with "Nessa", who says she just so happens to rent out a room in her house. On one hand, we are thinking "Sweet!" and on the other hand we were thinking the only "houses" we'd seen so far were shacks in the wilderness. 

We were definitely skeptical...The nice lady who sold us the water took us to Nessa's house. It was a two story mansion for Indo standards, in a gated community, where we finally layed our heads that night. After a 30 minute interview, she agreed to let us sleep there. We payed her way too much, but we didn't care at that point. Nessa is Indonesian and doesn't speak that great of English but she definitely gets by..She has a 2 year old daughter and her husband is a seaman (hehe) who was born in Croatia..Neither one speaks the others' language so they speak in English together and somehow get by. He doesn't return to Indo until next week. Obviously, she had to trust us as much as we had to trust her. We honestly felt like Hansel and Gretel, or Goldilocks for that matter. In the morning, she gave us tea and helped us find a cab back to Merak. Bless this woman's heart...Without us buying a bottle of water from her friend (one of literally 50 street vendors we had seen), we would have been sleeping on the beach.

Now, as I type, we are safe and sound in Bogor, an interesting, safe and green city in the heart of Java. It's pretty rainy right now, and the rivers through the city are feasting on the water. All we did today was relax, watch a movie, and play gin rummy. And that was fine with us. We just want to be somewhere for a week, with no busses, trains, moto taxis, vans with no doors, etc. and hang out for a bit.

Tomorrow's task: doing laundry for the first time! (Can you believe we are sitting in our own filth after 2 weeks?! Ewwww...)

Monkeying Around in Ubud

Yesterday I had one of my most memorable and unique experiences...We had come to Ubud, an artsy community in the middle of Bali, in order to get a more rural vibe. We were done with the tourism and peddling in Kuta Beach and were ready for some new scenery. (Little known fact: as we headed out just outside of Ubud, we passed where they filmed Eat, Pray, Love).

We arrived and it was raining..That didn't stop us from wandering around in the rain and seeing what exactly this craftsman's town had to offer. I had read in our "Bible"--ie SE Asia on a Shoestring--that we should check out the Monkey Forest Sanctuary. As we walked up, there were hundreds of grey long tailed monkeys--in the trees, on the sidewalks, and even crawling on people trying to get to bananas! They were seemingly the most innocent, wise animals I'd ever been that close to.

I definitely wanted to take one home with me and live like Ross Geller a la Friends. Everything from babies clinging to their mamas for dear life to old fat poppa monkeys just sitting around like they not only own the forest, but all the temples inside too. At one point, a few tourists were getting a little too close to one of the little ones and the mom started baring her teeth..Pretty scary!

So we meandered through the forest, saw rivers running through it, monkeys everywhere and an old temple or two. We were having a blast, despite the pouring rain (no umbrella for Ross or me, mind you) and everything is going great, when all of a sudden we hear a little girl screaming bloody murder. We look up ahead and there are two monkeys climbing up this poor girl and as as she runs, they start scratching her..basically attacking her. We had no clue what to do. Her dad picked her up and put her on his shoulders, and they start climbing up his legs trying to get to her! The village people had to get umbrellas and brooms and physically remove the monkeys. It was ridiculously scary; this little 4 year old is going to hate monkeys forever, guaranteed. It was honestly like a scene from Outbreak.

After that little snafu, we were watching those grey monsters like a hawk and were wishing we had brought some mace, should things get crazy. The creatures that we once thought were precious turned out to be raging jungle beasts. 

I still would take a baby one home with me though if I could.

Rupiah/Mastercard Commercial

Nasi Goreng-- $3/US dollars

Large Bintang beer--$3/US dollars

2 beach chairs and umbrella-- $3/US dollars

Kuta Beach sunset-- Priceless (Ya, I'm cheesy...whatever.)

Rabid Dogs?

So I know we have been told 12 dozen times that we are going to "3rd world countries" and to "be careful", "cautious", "wary" etc....but I think the first time this really hit me was today--not when being peddled by a million street vendors or almost being run over 8 times in the miniscule alleys these people call streets, but when forced to walk past stray dogs.

Now, Ross and I are dog lovers..(see profile picture). But when the dogs in Kuta Beach, Bali all resemble the dog shown here come around and are standing in our path, we have to hesitate for a minute.

Earlier, I was reflecting in our guesthouse, (aka a 2 twin-bed room--no snuggling tonight!-- with no roof over the bathroom and a lizard living in our closet). I likened coming upon these mangy dogs to walking down an otherwise normal street and seeing a gang down the path possibly holding knives. It's kind of the same feeling because we turn around slowly and cautiously without ever making eye contact, and somehow have to find another route. It's actually pretty funny slash I was also quietly crying on the inside. (Speaking of crying on the inside---don't worry Mom, the lizard living in the closet went away by the time Ross got to him.) :)

We miss you all so much and send much love to our Californian friends and family (you guys are kind of a big deal here!)--so "Hollywood" as they say here in Indo.

xo,

Linds