I made it!

The trip went well, with the exception of the uncomfortable concrete floors of the Taipei airport. I slept there during my 12 hour nighttime layover. I still have a partial belt of mosquito bites around my waist (I failed to tuck my shirt in).



Nonetheless, I am here in Bali and its beautiful! Trav is an extraordinary guide, and scooter driver. Until yesterday we were riding three on the scoot. Me, Trav and Kacy, (who is leaving today) I'll miss her fabulous puns...of course, there's always Trav to fall back on.











We now have our own scooters.






























Trav's gardening project at the villa.









Much love to all, traveling and at home!

Vietnam

First, one for Steve, who will be arriving in a couple of days! Orange on orange!

(note the intense bambgoo scaffolding on the construction site in the background).













I have to leave and reenter Indonesia every 60 days or so for my visa, so I chose to go to Vietnam last month to visit my friend Elisa (from Evergreen). She was working on a research project involving Agent Orange, dioxins, and the state of things these days. I slept in the Kuala Lumpur airport on a layover.

This is where I slept, on the grass. My yardmates were Israeli and Polish.










If anyone ever needs an overnight layover in Malaysia, I highly recommend the KL airport. It's the best hostel in town! There must have been 300 of us overnighters milling about all night, from every corner of the world, sharing benches, yards, and alcoves.

I arrived in Saigon and went to the train station to buy a 12-hour trainride north to Hue, where Elisa was. I had to take a number for the line to buy tickets. I was number 390. "Now serving #290..."

I've always wanted to travel by overnight train! I've had my fill. Not a souls on the train that I met spoke English and Vietnamese is not a language you learn in a few days (tonal).

This was one of my bunkmates, an obnoxious boy who had no qualms about crawling all over, yelling, slamming the door, and periodically staring at me for 20-minute spells. He looks cute in a still photo doesn't he?

Upon arrival in Hue I went to the Hotel where Elisa was. I got a 4th floor room. My balcony overlooked the public pool. The pool played dance hall remixes from about 6am to 10pm every day. I awoke some mornings to "Who let the dogs out?!" Thumpety thumpety thumpety thump...

Hue is the old imperial city, in the middle of Vietnam. It is near the demilitarized zone, the dividing line between the conflicting regions during the War. It was hit hard, but much of the amazing architecture and relics still stand, plus a few War artifacts.

Elisa introduced me to Nyoc Mia. Sugarcane juice! These women have stands all over Hue and for about $0.50 switch on their machine and press sugarcane through it with a little lime or orange. By the end of my week in Hue I was up to 3 or 4 glasses a day. Oh, so refeshing.

Elisa and I at a Pagoda.

In the old imperial city, a semi-preserved section of Hue where the old dynasties sat, these big frog things are scattered about. I don't know their purpose, but they seem to have successfully bred themselves all over the grounds.

This is Tia, one of the workers at the hotel where Elisa and I stayed. She took a liking to both of us and one day she and her friend put us on their motorbikes and gave us a great little tour of the nearby pagodas and such. We all went to dinner and they showed us "how" to eat Vietnamese food (which is incredible...but confusing).

Elisa on the roof next to our hotel balcony; sunset over Hue. Hard to believe if I'd been born a few decades earlier I might have been dropping bombs here.

Chnese remnants in the imperial city.

It looks like a chicken, but it's a giant foam-and-metal phoenix. It's getting overgrown, but two years ago Australian and Vietnamese artists created this 20-foot tall bird and a matching dragon for a parade.

Tia and I, saying goodbye and the ubiquitous victory "V".

Her friend (whose name escapes me right now). She's so short that we could get a good framing for the photo.

Elisa and I bussed to Hoi An, east and south of Hue, near Da Nang. We rented a motorbike at left at 5am the next morning to fing the Myson ruins. We buzzed through a trickle of rain that became real rain and got drenched, but the moistness enriched the moss on these ruins.

The ruins were well preserved until the 60's, when Viet Cong used them to hide out in. So they were bombed. Craters are all around, overgrown, and unexploded mines are in the area still.

Some artifacts have been collected by anthropologists and housed in one of the better structures there. It was quiet and misty as we strolled around.

Sanskrit? Some of these obelisks are incredibly legible (if only I could read the language).

Still at Myson ruins, a rich path through the woods.

Then back to Saigon for a day befor I flew back to Bali! I bought an instrument called a Dan Nguyet, which means "moon instrument." It sounds beautiful and looks a bit like a 2 stringed banjo. This is the girl that sold it to me after I spent 3 hours playing every instrument I could.

Kacy leaves in a week, Steve gets here in 2 days and Mike and Tam are here in a week! We've been getting our hands in the dirt and learning acro yoga and permaculture. Potlucks and portraits are sure to come soon!

--Trav--

San Juans Bike Trip

Amanda and I have just returned from a week and a half bike trip on the islands. It was a wonderful trip! My buns are quite toned.

My favorite spot: Spencer Spit on Lopez.



This was our base on a sweet organic farm on the San Juans that Amanda had previously worked on.













A marimba band at a wonderful potluck at another organic farm "Sweet Earth"





















Cruisin'

















I don't know where this is.














Our base for four days at Spencer Spit
















Amanda on the road!








I harvested the clams from the beach that morning, the berries were from the side of the road, the peas from a work trade on a local farm.













One of the views at Spencer Spit on Lopez Island.
















Relaxing after a day of biking some serious hills.









It was a glorious trip and a wonderful way to wrap up my time in the US before I jet off to Bali!

I would stand with you on a mountain...I would swim with you in the sea...

Hello everyone! Here's some photos and faces of my time in Bali. This is the last two weeks; I'm working backwards through my photos and will try to get some of my trip to Vietnam and before that up soon.

Highlights of the last two weeks: we climbed Gunung Agung...we rafted the Ayung river...Kacy and I got certified to dive...I saw my first trance dance in a village in the north...lots of good food and people.

Kacy's here! It's wonderful to have her to share all of this with. I returned from Vietnam on the 1st and she arrived the next day.

Sunrise on Gunung Agung, Bali's highest peak and spiritual epicenter. Most things on Bali are oriented towards this peak, where the Gods like to hang out.

See the pyramid-shape? That's the shadow of Agung, taken from the top, stretching into the clouds in the west.

We slept in the temple at the base and performed a ceremony to ask permission to climb and well-being for all of the climbers.

At the top, finally...Agung is reported at 3400 meters and we started the climb at 900. Nobody told us how hard it actually would be and that we'd be scaling rocks on the top third. We started at 1:30am and got back down around noon, though we expected a 6-7 hour round-trip.

A set of offerings at the top of Agung.

Hayley, one of the four of us that made it to the top of Agung.

Tsiping; he was staying with our friends, Made and Jepun and wanted to join us on our climb of Agung. His family is from Taiwan, but he grew up in Paris. An all around good guy and a good photographer too. I hope to keep in touch with him.

Nyoman, a guide on Gunung Agung. He scaled the rock faces in flip-flops, carrying his water in a plastic grocery bag.

John and Alice, two Australians who I met halfway up Gunung Agung. Our party of seven split in half when some decided to go back down the mountain part-way. I stayed with them for a bit, then ran to catch up with everyone else. I met these two and a guide and continued up to the top with them.

Nina, from Australia. She's part of our weekly trivia team at the Fly Cafe in Ubud; her and her husband, Phil were introduced to me by Felice and Bruce.

This is Putu, our friend Legut's son, at the villa to play in the pool.

Felice likes to have wax sucked out of her head.

Felice, post-ear-candling, at the villa.

Kacy Spooner, also with clean ears, listening to the sounds of the birds singing and the rice growing.

Romance: Mango juice and papaya juice, a near-daily interaction with Kacy and I.

This is Wishnu, the son of the owner of the place we stayed in Pemuteran. He saw Kacy and I playing Dutch Blitz and asked to jump in. I know a few colors and numbers in Indonesian, so was able to explain it to him, and we went several rounds. But the end, not only was he able to play, but I caught him trying to cheat!

Kacy getting certified to dive in Pemuteran!

Luc and Keri, from Switzerland, in Pemuteran on a project top document frowth rates of coral within the BioRock project. They went snorkeling with us and gave us a fun little tour of the coral.

Nick and Suzy, from England, in Pemuteran doing a research project on sustainable tourism. Kacy and I were the first to complete their survey on the BioRock project.

Jessica and Greg, whom we met while getting dive certified in Pemuteran; from Vancouver, Canada.

Hayley, from England, here in Bali doing acro-yoga and enjoying life.

The beginning of a good day: a morning game of chess with a pineapple juice and a fresh coconut, which led into more chess over lunch and over martinis in the evening.

A young monkey in the Monkey Forest. I wish I had feet like them; a bigger one took Kacy's bottle of water from her, easily unscrewed the cap and held it up to drink out of it. He left it crumpled and ripped the label off, then cast it away and wandered off. Monkeys aren't eco-concious.

Monkey wrestling in Ubud's Sacred Monkey Forest. There are a lot of young ones tight now and they're super playful.










That's it for now! I'll try to get other updates and photos from Vietnam up soon. Love you all--

--Trav--

Saya jalan-jalan.

Selemat Sore!
So I, um...bought a digital camera. And I have a cell phone. A pink one. And a motorbike.
It took going to the other side of our beautiful planet to get these items, but I'll admit they're handy! I've been on foot until this point, which usually meant leaving my place early to walk the 3km into Ubud to get there before the sun got too intense, then hiding out in a series of cafes and such during the heat of the day, to walk back home in the late afternoon or evening.

But it's a gorgous walk and a lovely place. I've spent most of my time in Singakerta, near Ubud. I've gone up to Pemuteran once, where I'll return in a few weeks to get dive certified with Kacy and help out on a rather experimental coral reef restoration project (http://www.biorock.net/).

This morning I got up at 2:30 AM to hike a volcano. It was a 1 hour drive and we started going up about 4AM, to get to a viewpoint for sunrise. We were done by 9:30AM and I've spent the rest of the day getting home through a series of stops at fruit stands, bookstores, and food stalls.

I also hope to visit/work on a farm in the mountains that I get cacao from. I'm going to try and get there this week.


On the walk to Ubud, I pass this bridge demon every day. There are four of them, guarding at each corner. They're a common image on bridges, but I haven't found a specific name for this character yet.


Here he is with a series of offerings. These offerings, made of a leaf box (usually banana), a flower, a dab of rice, a sprinkle of water, a stick of insence, and other things depending on availability and the day are everywhere. They are placed at every doorway, intersection, statue, strange-looking tree, on motorbikes, cars, temples, gutters, water taps, etc. at least twice daily. As soon as they are placed, they are forgotten about. Luckily they're biodegradable because the gutters are absolutely full of them. The stray dogs and chickens eat the rice.



My friends Made and Jepun took Felice and I to Made's family temple, at the foot of Gunung Agung (Bali's biggest mountain). Jepun is a painter and they own a gallery and a guesthouse in Ubud. They are building this house in their family village (2.5 hour drive away) brick by brick, as they can afford it.







Felice and I went to the Bali Bird Park very close to my place; it has sevaral aviaries and a beautiful array of birds from around the tropical world. This one may have thought I was out to poach its eggs becaus eits red eyes never left me.




When I heard a deep, throaty, "Hello," I turned to find this Myna bird hopping about in its small cage. It made "whoop"ing noises and occasionally snorted at me.





Jepun and Felice, at Jepun's house near Mt. Agung.








Jepun and Made let us enter their village temple, without sarongs, which is pretty tabboo I think. Each village temple (often there are several per village...they're everywhere!) has three courtyards for different purposes. This was a very modest one.


You know...new camera=flower shots.








This is Pura Pasar Agung, one of the two temples on Mt. Agung. On the southern slope, one drives a very steep hill (we had to pause to enjoy the view...and let the car cool down), then climbs these 297 stairs (by my count). This temple is one of the biggest and highest in Bali.
Mt. Agung is the focal point of Bali; according to Balinese Hindus, it's where Shiva was born and lives. However, Shiva is apparently on vacation right now because it's okay to hike up to the summit of Agung. Next month the God comes back and it's off limits.


Inside the gates of the temple on Agung are the three courtyards of all temples, though huge. We were inside of a cloud at this point, and the peak above us was grey and the stairs below us faded into mist.
These three pillars are for Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu.



These guys are my favorite characters so far. Their names are Malem (left) and Merdah (right, with the bigger nose). They appear in shadow puppet plays as bumbling old men who serve as servants to the good and bad guys. Since these plays are often recited in high language which nobody speaks, they speak the common language and translate while acting as comic relief.


Merdah. They are seen depicted in stone form outside many gates to homes, temples, shops, etc. Their hands are often like this, in a sign of welcome.




Malem. Aren't they just the most adorable dimwited gatekeepers ever?






Outside the villa in the rain. We're surrounded by rice paddies on all sides; the rice comes right up to this wall.





At the Bird Park; this was a bird show and these two macaws wouldn't come back to the trainer. They looped us a few times and then took off over the distant fields for about ten minutes.
Eventually they returned, but one perched upside down in a tree and they cancelled the rest of the show (raptors were next and macaws could have looked like a meal).


Every house compound has a small temple, often a single small structure. This is the one at the villa, in the very corner of the property (the distance from your house to your temple is determined by your foot...some number of lengthwise steps plus one sideways step, to be determined by a priest).








There's cacao here! I've been grinding it and making my own chocolate; it's gritty since I can't get the proper stone roller for it here, but delicious. This was my first sheet of it. Since then I've been making fudge and cakes.




I don't know this one's story, but it's all over, often above entrances.








A seven-foot carving of a komodo dragon, complete with a fresh offering atop its nose.








Each temple has its own unique guards. Some are animals, some demons, some miscellaneous characters like this one. They always come in pairs.

You can't go 1o feet without coming across another statue or carving of some kind.



Bali has dogs everywhere. Most are white. They're not aggressive (though I'm told rabies is present in the south). They are simply everywhere, including the summit of Mt. Kintamani, the beaches of Kuta and Pemuteran, restaurants, internet cafes, rice paddies, gravel pits...everywhere. Most have no owners; many are mangy, some are mangled; but nobody intentionally harms them. They are respected and many live on the dabs of rice available in every offering in Bali.




This is Boomer, a 17-year-old Green Turtle in Pemuteran in the NW. He was part of a captive breeding program, where babies are hatched and released to help boost turtle populations. he kept returning to the beach with every release, so eventually they kept him. He's been there ever since and loves having his shell scratched.


One of the amazing fishing boats in the north, constructed of a wooden hull and bamboo outriggings. They're a piece of simple genious.






Under a restaurant table. Black dogs are less common.












This station on the Pemuteran beach is part of the BioRock project. Metal grids of various shapes and sized (domes, stars, boxes, etc.) have been dropped just offshore and have electricity running to them. The low voltage stimulates limestone growth and pieces of coral are anchored to them. Then, the coral grows! A 5-minute snorkel from the beach.


Sunrise in Pemuteran.







It's a flower.







Bruce and Felice, whith whom I'm living in Singakerta.








The back of the villa.












This is the Bale (buh-LAY) in our backyard. This is used in most family complexes (just about everyone has one) for socializing, eating, etc.





This is Made (mah-DAY). Most people in Bali are named Wayan, Made, Nyoman, or Ketut. It depends on birth order; if you're a first son or daughter, your name is Wayan, etc.
Very confusing sometimes, but great when I forget a name! ("Oooh, I forget your name...was it Nyoman? Oh, Ketut! I was close.")

That's all for now! I hope life is grand. Selamat jalan--

--Trav--

The first leg: Portland-Hawaii-Tokyo-Osaka

Selamat Pagi-

Well, it all started long ago, in the mystical month of April. From the kingdom of Bend I shouted my farewells to all who stood with open ears. To those who stood with closed ears I simply waved and perhaps blew a kiss. I then, with my fair lady at my side, traversed the at-one-time snowy and treacherous pass to the distant village of Portland, from whence I climbed into the belly of a large metal bird and took to the grey skies. It was to be the first of many magical birds that I would soar within.

Arriving in Hawai'i, comnsidering the stereotypes of its beauty, considering its status as a destination for newlyweds, surfers, businesspeople, and other forms of tourists, and considering the fact that I just decended upon it from thousands of miles away, was completely antclimactic. I only took brief note of the warmth in Honolulu as I hurried to catch a transfer flight and absently notices the palms and other largely-leafed trees on the Big Island. I hopped aboard a flight to the Big Island, where my brother and his family live. I hadn't seen him in well over a decade and I'd never met my neice, nephew, or sister-in-law.

We stayed up for a few hours chatting. The TV was on and a McDonalds
commercial advertised "Spam in the AM". They aren't on the grid, so
their generator can power either one light and the TV or one light and
the internet. Blake showed me the knives that he makes. They told me
all about the island and how ready they are to leave and about the house
and what it's gone through. I was honored to be the only one on
Sandford's side to ever see the house before they sell it. I learned a
lot about what's happening on that island with politics, crime, drugs,
ecology, family, etc.

We went to bed and, when the lights go out, the light go out. They're
backed up to the jungle and I went to sleep to the sound of loud frogs
and an occasional sudden rainburst.
The next morning, I got a garden/yard tour. I was impressed the whole
time with what a strong family they are. They move and act as a little
pack, very cohesively. Blake and Hannah were great to chat with. Blake
showed me the musket he's building. We were up around 6am and left the
house around 7:30. I had to be at the airport at 10:00. They gave me a
quick flash tour, driving all over the coast, telling me stories of the
past few decades, about lava flows and vanished beaches, about tourists
and roads and surfbreaks and the limitations of the island.
I saw surf raging against rock, learned about the crime, the economy, the politics, the unreasonably loud frogs, and other frustrations of the island which have lead my brother and his family to abandon the island and move to Oregon; his children (one already out of high school) have never left the state.

The photo is of me, my brother Sandford, and my nephew Blake, taken by my neice, Hannah on the big Island.







That morning I flew to Honolulu, then to Tokyo.
----------

I arrived in Japan late. The flight out of Honolulu was late due to the plane's starter not working. Less consequentially, the audio system was broken and they started the movie "Marley and Me" seven times before they got it going. The flight was very light so I got a full row of three chairs to spread out on, and I certainly did.

They also fed us well. My vegetarian meal was surprisingly delicious. I did watch most of the movie, about a family and a dog, and I cried a little when old Marley died at the end. Luckily the lights were out and I could quietly drown my sorrows in my orange juice.

We arrived in Tokyo 2.5 hours late and all connections to Osaka had left. They did, however, arrange a small plane to carry the 16 of us to Kansai airport. Several agents were waiting for us and a young, stern, little woman led us across the airport to our gate. Several people lagged behind, but I stuck right with her, knowing she was my only line of logic for the moment. She periodically stopped for the slowpokes and at one point gave me a sincere "So, so sorry sir!" I said, "Not a problem at all, thank you!" "No, no, thank YOU! [something in japanese] Why are they so slow?? Hmph!" and she stomped her foot.

That little plane took awhile to leave the runway, so by the time I got to Kansai Airport in Osaka, it was 11pm. I wandered around for an hour or so, figuring out what my options were. Knowing no Japanese, I decided to check the Thorn Tree (Lonely Planet's travel forum site) regarding the airport hotel (there were internet kiosks at the airport, 10 minutes per 100 Yen). It was recommended for its convenience, so I got a room. It was far more expensive than I expected (17,000Y!!) but my only real option.

I checked in and got a room on the 10th floor (huge hotel). I took a bath and fell asleep in the tub. I turned on BBC news and got into bed at about 2pm. My mind was still coarsing with "did I REALLY just spend $170 on a room?" I kept rethinking the exchange value, "Maybe it was just $17." But BBC flashed currency exchanges periodically and a $1=Y100 is not a hard conversion.

After the missed flight, NWA agents gave me a form letter apology that says, "We have booked you accomodation." So I emailed them in hopes that they would pay me back for the room. They did and also gave me flight credit. It pays to complain.
-------------
I woke up just before 6am in the Kansai Airport hotel in Osaka, after just 4 hours of sleep. I went to the airport again (just across a bouncy treadmill-walkway) to explore.

I checked out around 7:30 and figured out the train system. I purchased a 1-day Osaka/Kyoto/Kobe area pass, allowing me unlimited rides on JR trains.

I hopped on a random train and off I went, in the oposite direction of Osaka. The further from the airport I went, the less English was included on signs, including station markings.

There were gardens and small fields throughout the city and towns around it. They kept jumping out at me, surprising me amongst the concrete, brick, and roads. Almost every apartment building had ledges filled with clothing, drying in the overcast day. Many people wore dust masks, about 1 out of every 15 as I casually counted on the train. Lots of men in business suits and girls in school uniforms. I wrote a couple of haikus, which I never do, one about conductors who bow to the car upon entering an exiting each one.

I got off and on a few random trains, intentionally getting myself a bit lost. After all, I had all day. When it seemed I was really getting out into the country with zero communication skills, I made my way back towards the city of Osaka. I was the only non-Asian-looking person on any of the trains I rose on and I only saw what looked like 4 Europeans or Westerners, all of whom looked like travelers. I wondered what I looked like, a traveler or a casual city-dweller. I was intentional about walking and moving with confidence. raely stopping or slowing. I do that automatically, it allows me to see what I'm up against before attempting to interact or integrate. I do it no matter the language barrier, widening the territory with which I'm familiar.

I think if I went back to that region I could navigate confidently, though I'd probably move on to Kyoto and Kobe, and would love a friend present who could interpret. I hope I can see Ty next time.

The alleys of Osaka were a trip, narrow, busy, and full of colors and cartoon characters and happy music. There were intense smells (good and bad) as I walked past each door and stall, but I never slowed for fear of language issues. I navigated around many bikes ( I love their kickstands that are attached on both sides to elevate the bikes).

By 3:30 I was back at the airport and hungry. I got the aforementioned meal and checked in, once again the only obvious American on the flight. I've heard Japanese, Chinese, Bahasa, and, perhaps, Korean in the lounge and the plane. Every announcement is repeated infour languages (not Bahasa Indonesia) and it's funny to think that the English probably is really just for me.

Off to Indonesia, in the air, with nobody to talk to beyond "Hello" "Where are you from" and "Do you know (english/japanese/mandarin/etc.)."

-----

The white dogs of Bali probably don't believe in gods or demons. They do, however thrive, relatively, as they scour streets twice a day for the offerings that have been set out in front of every shop, home, river, on every statue, car, in every altar.

Each offering contains a little bit of rice; once the offering has been set and the essence has been taken by whichever spirit it was meant for, its usefulness and significance is nulled entirely. The rice is eaten by dogs, songbirds, chickens, geese, ants (so many ants) and who knows what else. Eventually, if it hasn't been kicked away or scattered by the wind, the remains of the offering is swept off, usually to a convenient canal or ravine.

Most of the dogs are loyal to nobody, reliant on everyone. They are patient and independent, accepted in many restaurants, a casual thing to swerve around as they lay on the warm roads. The white dogs of Bali know there are no gods or demons here, but that faith is what keeps them alive and aware.

More shortly!

--trav--

Hello, Goodologists!

As I prepare to wander away from this continent for the first time, I'm finishing my photography/community project related to Bend.

Please feel free to explore my new website. If you haven't received the associated essay, email me or respond to this post and I'll send it to you. Hopefully it will also be available for a download on my gallery shortly.

Once you select the "Bend" gallery, wait a few moments for the photos to all load. When you click on one it should expand with information to its left.

Please don't try to print these photos; they're low resolution and small. If you want a digital copy of one, let me know and I'll send you a high quality version directly, with the permission of the individual.

www.TravWilliams.com

I'll be adding further community galleries when I return from Indonesia in the fall.

Love you all! Thanks for everything, and keep in touch! You're all important to me...and to a lot of people, I imagine--

--Trav--