Gabrielle abroad…

Nearly six weeks after arriving in Bali, still I find myself in Ubud - the cultural center of Bali, aptly located in the central region and heart of the island. I realize that a posting from travels - experiences - is long overdue, so until I sit down and write with some thought, here are some images to appease anyone interested….

Puri Sarem Agung is the central palace, home of the last “king” of Bali, where his descendants still currently live, and today the palace hosts many traditional dance performances throughout the week.

Views from my hike up Mt. Batur near Kintamani in central Bali……

Goa Gajah - Elephant Cave in Bedulu….

Pura Besakih temple….

Ceremonial attendees at Pura Besakih…..

The cityof Klungklung….

Vistas and scenery in Bali at Bukit Jambul…..

Neka Museum just outside of Ubud…..

Children’s dance practice at Pondok Pencak Library in Ubud….

What a terrible motivation to update this travel blog. It makes the previous draft that I had been working on yesterday seem incredibly insignificant and trivial…I had just spent the end of last week in Amed, a rugged beach town on the northeast coast of Bali and returned to central Bali (Ubud) for a dinner party with friends. Six of us were at the table in our friend’s home near the village of Sakti (outside of Ubud) when the news began to arrive via phone calls and text messages. Fortunately we were (are) safe, secluded even from the frantic energy of southern Bali, and even Ubud. More to come.

Oh, the stars in Indonesia are plentiful and breathtaking….I’ve never seen the Milky Way so vibrant before!

I left Solo on Tuesday, along with a Dutch couple, a French couple and girl from Germany. Together we were headed towards Mount Bromo Tengger National Park, in the middle of East Java, to climb Mt Bromo volcano for the sunrise. After a VERY long journey, headed by a bus driver running on two hours of sleep which was obvious in his driving INabilities, we checked into Cemora Indah hotel and enjoyed a bowl of soup and beer. Our wake-up call the next morning was a very brisk 3:15am, and the chilliness was mediated (only slightly) by the stunning views of the early morning sky.

The sunrise view can be appreciated from two vantage points: directly from the crater, or from the top of another mountain which overlooks the volcanos and parkviews. The other pairs made their way to the latter higher “lookout point”, which is accessible directly by jeep. My German friend and I decided we preferred working for our sunrise view, and opted to make the so-called short and obvious walk directly to the crater Mt Bromo. Short, perhaps. Obvious? Not really. After a shivering thirty minutes of stumbling through the Sand Sea, walking down what we thought was the track to the mountain (hey, following all these jeeps couldn’t be wrong, right?), a local Bromo-ian who had been following us for some time spoke up. We had assumed that, along with the twenty or so men hanging around the trailhead, he was interested in guiding us to the top (for fee, of course). We were partially right - he asked us if we were trying to go to Bromo. Indignantly, we said yes, of course. Well, it turns out we were NOWHERE near the crater and in reality were following the jeeps headed up to the lookout point. For a well-deserved guide fee, he turned (sharply to the left AWAY from the direction we’d been heading) and took us to the bottom of the crater. (Wherever you are, thank you again).

The walk is considered “easy” because of the man-made stairs that take you up the crater. In guidebooks, brochures and other descriptions, they’re billed as “moderately tough” due to the fact that there is over two hundred of them. The steps were no problem. What no one ever warns you about is the clouds of sulfuric SMOKE (acidic!) that come wafting down the crater, stinging your eyes, making your nose run, leaving a bad taste in your mouth and burning your chest when you breathe.

The views from the top, though, are breathtaking (oh wait, no that was the sulfur). Seriously, they were beautiful. I love the pictures I got from of us from the crater.

With flash, it was a different story. We could barely keep our eyes open due to the fumes. Our photographer offered to retake the picture, but I think it sums up our experience on Bromo quite nicely!

We made it back to the hotel and sat to thaw in the rising sun with cups of steaming hot Javanese coffee and milk. Yum. After breakfast, the van took off again, this time to Kawah Ijen Crater, in even farther east Java. We drove along the northern shore of Java before climbing through the palm trees, tea, coffee, and clove plantations that surround the Ijen region. Our homestay was just delightful. Unlike the rather shoddy Cemorah Indah (misleading…Indah is Indonesian for beautiful), our new rooms surrounded a sweet little courtyard filled with potted plants and orchids in the quite lush surrounding of Sempol. We toured the local coffee plantation and production facilities, and the surrounding neighborhoods provided for the workers at the factory. The local children loved posting for photos, then dashing over to laugh at the results. We enjoyed dinner family-style in the courtyard - our guide Tommy even specially prepared the Javanese fried tempeh which has become one of my favorites! - and headed off to rest up for our 4am wake up call. Our hike up to the crater was early, leisurely but still steep.

Maybe I say “leisurely” because unlike the local workers in the crater, I don’t have to carry over two hundred pounds on my back for four hours a day. The crater is a major site of sulfur deposits - so in two shifts a day, a team of two hundred workers hike up the mountain to the crater, down the edge of the crater (braving much denser sulfuric fumes than in Bromo) to the deposits to collect the freshly hardened sulfur within the crater region. As they are paid per kilo, they load up as much as possible and carry it on their shoulders back to the bottom of the mountain. Over 220 pounds. Two trips per shift. Usually wearing flip-flops. And if I haven’t made clear how terrible these fumes are - I was shocked to notice that after my hike up Bromo, the grey synthetic fabric on my backpack has permanently changed to GREEN due to some kind of chemical reaction from the smoke. And everyone breathes this in. Hmmm.

However consistent with Javanese graciousness, nearly every single worker we encountered was smiling and laughing. Maybe because they make a reasonably high salary of 340 rupiahs per kilo (roughly 70,000 rupiahs a day for 15 days of work - or less than 100USD per month) while the coffee factory workers take home 10,000 rupiahs per day. Their physical and mental strength, coupled with their smiles certainly is a lesson in humility!

We left Ijen after our hike, headed to a port on the coast of East Java and took the 30 minute ferry over to Bali. I must admit, I was more than a little sad to see our ferry leave the island of Java behind us. I truly hope to return soon.

Until then, Bali bound……..

The rest of my time in Solo was cultural and special, largely in part due to my many new and hospitable friends in Solo (and from Bali!) who introduced me further to Javanese culture and day to day life in Solo. Ajip had been developing a new variation on one of his Solo tours, and since my legs were still a little sore, Alex - a long time veteran of Java who makes Solo his second home - and I decided to christen his “Experiencing Traditional Solo” tour. It was a huge success!

We left early one morning, via very relaxing transportation, toured the local picturesque country side and made our way through the villages on the outskirts of Solo. Much of the traditional methods of food production and artistry is still alive in Java, and we observed tofu-making, the production of rice crackers and even the how arak - rice wine, the local alcohol- is made. One of the most interesting stops was a village which specializes in building the traditional Indonesian gamelan instruments - particularly the process which rough versions of gongs are shaped into raw versions and then polished by hand. Very impressive!

(One of these things is not like the other…)

The smiling faces at this village were SO amused at this picture!! - so Alex, Ajip and I decided to start telling people that I was from Lombok (another island in Indonesia).

On Saturday afternoon, I had the special privilege of being invited to Ajip’s wedding, held the following day. Although Ajip is from Solo proper, his fiancee is from a village south of the small town of Wonogiri, where the traditional Javanese wedding would be held. So a very sweet and gracious Darmi took me shopping on Saturday night to find something appropriate for a traditional Javanese wedding.

Sunday morning I was dressed and ready by 6am, and rode with Harry, a good friend of Ajip (and now good friend of mine!) to Ajip’s house to watch his mother and sister prepare for the wedding. By around 8am, two vans filled with parents, aunts, uncles, other family members, the chief and wife of their neighborhood community and myself took off on the two hour drive south of Solo to the village.

The designated waiting area for the groom’s family was carpeted with bamboo mats and rugs, with plenty of chairs, where we sat and waited for the men of family to change into traditional Javanese garb - both the men and women wore batik sarongs. The women wore beautiful and intricatedly beaded long sleeved blouses with jasmine flowers interwoven in their hair, piled and pinned on top of their head. The men wore embroidered sashes bound around their waist, with black formal jackets of Javanese detail and head coverings.

The wedding itself was held in a separate part of the village, in a covered area decorated with sashes, where the rest of the guests were sitting. I had assumed that my seat was with the guests, until we heard a voice projecting from the tent in formal Javanese, and the family guided me to start walking towards the wedding area - so along with family and friends in the wedding procession, I bowed and greeted my way down the greeting line of the bride’s family from the village, village elders, the village chief and his wife.

The central area, where Westerners would consider an altar, was beautifully decorated…like a Javanese palace, plush seats for the bride and groom, golden ornate decorative pillars and arches, flowers and richly colored fabrics. It was spectacular! The absolutely stunning bride entered first, with two younger Javanese girls who sat and kept her cool during the ceremony with two pink feather fans, followed by Ajip. After the ceremonial parts of the wedding which bound Ajip and his fiancee as husband and wife were carried out, the photographers began capturing the day in a series of pictures with the married couple and their families.

Traditional dancers, humorous clown characters, snacks of local gudel (coconut sugar and rice candy), and lunch (steamed rice, meat in coconut sauce, sambal and pickled vegetables) kept the audience engaged for the afternoon during the pictures. The bride and groom left at one point, returning with new clothing - which prompted another round of pictures!….Everything was finished by 2pm, and after much handshaking, head bowing, and giving thanks and blessing to each other, my wonderful wedding date Harry and I headed back to Solo - leaving Ajip in his new village, with his new wife for another five day ceremonial post-wedding tradition. What an experience!

On the way home Ajip’s family insisted I visit them for dinner, so Harry and I drove to the family’s home later that evening to visit with them, where we were warmly received. So much so, in fact, that they were upset to hear that I’d already booked my trip to continue on to East Java, as they insisted I stay with them for at least another week, to learn more about the real Javanese culture. Ajip’s family was warm, welcoming, hospitable and gracious, with beautiful hearts and open mind - very typical of the Javanese culture, it seems to me! The Javanese philosophy of life is truly a beautiful one, exemplified by all the people I’ve met so far, and I hope it’s made an impression enough on me to stay with me after my travels. Next time I return to Solo, I have a family and home to return to. Truly a special feeling.

View of Gunung Merapi from Borobudur in Yogyakarta….

Monday evening saw me, contentedly full from a dinner of nasi liwet, packed up with water, food and a strong flashlight in the back of a taxi heading up to the small village of Selo, where I would start my climb of Gunung Merapi. In Indonesian, “Gunung” means “volcano”, and at approximately 2900m Merapi is one of several still active in Indonesia. Indeed Merapi has erupted several times over the past hundred years -as recently as 1994- and the Volcanological Survey of Indonesia still monitors its flows and earthquakes to issue trekking warnings. Any nervousness I had about trekking up an active volcano dissipated as my guide and driver belted out old Michael Jackson songs. The entire way there. What is it about old MJ songs?? “Don’t Stop Til you get Enough? If that’s not the perfect pep up song, I don’t know what is.

The trek up Merapi (and I mean, straight up) takes 3-4hrs, and so to make it to the summit by sunrise we began our trip around 1:00am. Our guide was –much like my surf instructor- kind, gracious and extremely patient. I’m beginning to realize that these qualities embody the Indonesian culture in general. The trek up the volcano was undescribably surreal – as we gained elevation, we could see the lights of Selo, Solo and Yogyakarta extending out to the horizon until you almost couldn’t tell where the cities ended and night sky began. During parts of the hike, our flashlights were totally unnecessary as the virtually full moon lit up the trail and parts of the surrounding landscape in an eerie white light. Furthermore we could actually HEAR the traditional Javanese music from an all-night wayang kulit performance in Yogyakarta, which provided a transcendental soundtrack for the journey up the volcano. It was absolutely magical, and I felt like I was truly in another world.

Fastforward three hours: ahead of schedule, we took a break just near the summit (waiting for sunrise on the summit would subject us to strong winds up top). With a light longsleeved shirt and lightweight fleece - It. Was. Cold. I’m not kidding (5-10 degrees Celsius. Next time I’m packing a wool sweater, hat and gloves.)

But although the trek was tough and my hands and toes were completely numb, watching the sunrise over Central Java from the top of Merapi was spectacular! I was elated! We spent an hour at the summit with glorious views of the smoking crater (myself, a couple from Paris and our two guides) and started our descent at about 7:00am – even though we were essentially taking the same trek back, in the light of the sun, it was a whole new experience and the views were incredible. By 9:30am I made it back to Selo, thawed, tired, and delirious, dreaming about hot tea, a shower and my bed in the back of the minivan back to Solo.

Unfortunately, here my luck with the reliability of transportation here in Indonesia promptly ran out. It took a good hour before we actually left Selo, and about 30mins outside of Solo, the bus decided to not change gears and instead sputtered and died. Our driver and the French guy pushed the bus to the nearest garage where we sat and waited as the bus was fixed and still broken. Fixed and still broken. Fixed and still broken. Fixed and still broken. About 1:30pm our guide, guilty that the 3 of us were trying not to pass out on benches in the garage, hired a taxi and took us back to Solo. I was clean and in bed by 2pm that afternoon, dreaming about the next trek……

Yesterday I’d planned to rent a bicycle to visit the villages around Solo but my legs were out of commission. So instead, after breakfast, my friend Ajip and I left to visit the Hindu temples of Candi Sukuh and Candi Ceto on the slopes of Gunung Lawu – considered one of the holiest mountains in Java.

For me to fully grasp and discuss here religion in modern and historical Indonesia is impossible – what is known, however, is that both Buddhist and Hindu dynasties flourished in Java through the 13th and 14th centuries, until Islam, established in Java as early as the 12th century, spread to become the state religion by the 15th century. Both of these are considered relatively new Hindu temples, built in the 14th century and notable because they were built after widespread Islamic conversion was initiated and underway. The reliefs at Sukuh and Ceto depict Hindu stories with flavors of Javanese influence, subtle messages for women and marriage, and both are still used today for celebration, holy events and “exoricisms” – a dispelling of bad spirits if you are unfortunate enough to be born on a bad day of the Javanese calendar.

Borobudur in Yogyakarta….

In contrast to Sukuh and Ceto, the Prambanan temple near Yogyakarta built in 850AD during the flourishing Hindu Mataram dynasty form the largest Hindu temples of Java, with three temples devoted to Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu. And I’ve finally uploaded pictures from Borobudur (750-850AD), the impressive Buddhist temple built around a small hill near Yogyakarta. Over 2600 narrative and decorative panels describe Buddhist doctrine, with over 500 Buddha statues and images embedded into the temple.

Still planning my next move…more pictures to come! Also new picture up from Bogor.

..I’m uploading pictures. Computer facilities aren’t the greatest, and I just spent the past hour reviewing HTML skills, so bear with me.

Similar to the cultural focus of Yogyakarta, Solo has a plethora of musical instrument crafters, wooden and leather puppet makers, batik producers, as well as weekly performances of traditional gamelan music, various javanese dance performances around town, and even weekly all night wayang golek and wayang kulit puppet performances. This morning I visited Pura Mangkunegaran, the lovely palace in the center of the city where the royal family currently resides.

Off to a big dinner, as I’m trekking up Gunung Merapi tonight. 9pm departure to the small village of Selo on the slope of the volcano gives me a midnight departure, and time to enjoy the sunrise at the summit of Merapi. More pictures on the way!

P.S. To those of you who *are* computer experts - some of these computers are notoriously infected with viruses. If I use a digital card reader to directly upload pictures from my Compact Flash card, could I potentially have any problems with my card later? Some travel sites recommend reformatting the card after use in an internet cafe, so I thought I’d double check. Currently transferring images to disc, then from disc to blog.

Enroute to Yogyakarta…..

Well once again I’ve had three consecutive days when I’ve woken up with every intention to move on, and someone or something changes my plans. I *think* today is the day, though, and I’m heading to Solo - just an hour by train.

Arrived in Yogyakarta on Monday after a very pleasant bus-ferry-bus trip (more about this later) and subscribed to a bit of culture shock! Surprisingly - particularly upon arrival in Yogya! - the farther east I’m traveling, the tourist infrastructure becomes more developed and mass produced. When I was in Jakarta, Bogor, Ciapanas, and mostly through Pangandaran, I had to battle my way through Indonesian to reserve a room, sometimes as the sole foreigner in the area (Ciapanas)….the challenge which I’ve loved. And especially at the beach, I spent the afternoons swimming and hiking mostly with the Javanese locals. The tourist subculture, however, is in FULL force here with its own independent subcommunity off of Sosro road of hostels, travel agencies, local tours, batik shops - it’s more than a little overwhelming. The main road in Yogya itself reminds me a bit of New York - shop after shop of batik stores, shoe places, fabric stores for traditional clothes, leather work, imitation North Face backpack stores, Muslim clothing stores for embroidered headscarves and dresses, silverwork, along with Circle Ks, KFC and McDonalds (the latter two which are rather fancy places to eat, a social statment of financial status!).

Besides being considered a full-on tourist, however, indeed the cultural mecca of Java, Yogyakarta seems to me quite a progressive, young and incredibly creative city on the southern coastal region in Western Java (And in desperate need of English teachers….hmmmmm…..). Surrounded by Pramandan and Borobudur, ancient Hindu and Buddhist temples constructed roughly around 800 AD, on the outskirts of the urban area and the rumbling Gunung (which means volcano) Merapi, its spirituality is tangible. The sunrise over Borobudur and sunset over Pramandan were awe-inspiring!

And despite being ‘urban’, knowledge and expertise of traditional performing arts are taught over and over many generations of Yogyakartans. Traditional performances of gamelan (Javanese musical instruments), Sundanese, Javanese and Balinese dance, leather and wooden puppet performances, batik work and silversmiths are intricately skillful and beautiful!….and the thought, strategy and devotion to the arts here is impressive! I spent one definitive and unforgettable evening watching the Yogyakarta ballet troupe (blending traditional and modern Javanese dance) performance of the Hindu Ramayana epic in an open air theater with Pramadan lit in the near background.

Off to Solo, Yogya’s sister city, for more culture, dance, and arts!

Have I mentioned how exquisitely beautiful Java is??…..

Well, I’d originally thought my trip to Pangandaran -impossible to say in true Indonesian accent, by the way- was going to be a quiet day or so after the long day traveling across the Puncak Pass, but somehow it has turned into a six day vacation….Between hiking in the National Park, jungle tours, visiting local wayang golek makers, fish frys and bonfires on the beach, riding on the back of motorcycles for hours through local villages in the area (sorry Mom and Dad), swimming in canyons and volcanic streams and jumping off of waterfalls (I’m kidding. Or am I?!?!…..) it’s been wonderful. And pretty exhausting too, I feel like I’ve been going nonstop.

I’m learning to surf! As Indonesia is famous for its surfing and beaches, I thought I’d try my hand at it. Turns out I’m terrible. Anyways there are worse things to do than spend all morning and afternoon on a black sand beach in the tropics.

Can I say one more time how wonderful the people here are - incredibly friendly with beautiful smiles! Whoever said solo traveling would be lonely was definitely not thinking of Indonesia. Besides the influx of German, French, Dutch and Australian tourists wandering the streets, the Indonesian locals are incredibly warm and hospitable. I. AM. NEVER. ALONE. Sometimes a tiring thing!! From bus rides, becok rides, warungs, restaurants, you name it - inevitably someone approaches to strike up conversation (Where are you from? Where are you going? Where have you been? etc). Yesterday morning I brought a book to a local restauraunt, thinking I’d enjoy some reading over a nice breakfast - within minutes, the waitress and two other locals were seated at the table and I spent the next two hours discussing the Hindu religion, history of the U.S., societal role of women around the world, etc. I haven’t even made it through one of the several books I brought to read. Related note: I was so touched having dinner in the nearby village in Bogor? Well I’ve already had five similar invites in just the past week. It’s really a wonderful culture.

Looking forward to a quiet night here in Pangandaran, and leaving (via minibus, then ferry, then bus) to Yogyakarta -the cultural center of Java- tomorrow morning. I’m really looking forward to visiting the Hindu temples, batik and woodwork galleries and historical and cultural musems.

What does it mean if I’m already losing track of days?…..

I spent the rest of Monday exploring Bogor, including their esteemed Botanical Gardens - beautiful. Monday night was uneventful, except for brief entertainment from a VERY drunk VERY red faced German man who staggered into the hotel around 11pm. Surprisingly, he’d had too much to drink during dinner and, ala Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson, decided to crash a traditional Indonesian wedding down the street. “Nobody there knew a white guy could dance like I did!”, he said. Hmm. Let your imagination run wild. He really was remarkably intoxicated, it turns out in part due to “zese delicious drinks zey kept pouring me” -use your best German slur for that one-.

I left Bogor yesterday morning, stayed the night in Cipanas, a small resort town in the gorgeous Garut valley in the shadow of several volcanos…famous for their hot springs which surrounded my hotel and fed the hotel water supply. It was quite lovely. I left Cipanas via Garut this morning, connected inTiksamalaya -or just Tiksa as the locals call it- and have landed now in Pangandaran…a black sand beach town on the southern coast of Java. I’m staying right across the beach, and making my way to an Indonesian restaurant in town renowned for their seafood. Yum! Too bad there’s no wine with dinner…..

It has been planes trains and automobiles over the past two days, except more like angkot, minivans, jeeps, economy buses and becoks. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking and undescribable…maybe just like you think Indonesia should look like, and more so. Its incredibly undeveloped and almost overgrown with tropical plants we all try to coax to grow - here they are HUGE and carpet the landscape!

I’m taking a break from traveling for now, and spending the rest of the week here, relaxing on the beach, indulging in seafood, and touring the beach towns around here.

Oh! Here’s a link to Java, so you can check out my route….http://www.lonelyplanet.com/mapshells/south_east_asia/java/java.htm
Bogor -halfway between Jakarta and Bandung
Garut and Cipanas - halfway between Bandung and Ciamis
Pangandaran-directly south of Ciamis

Oooh, where to start - I’ve been here two days and it already feels alot longer! Here’s my attempt at the Cliffnotes version:

Staying over in Singapore was KEY to my sanity - I woke up with a clear head, almost completely on this time zone, showered and boarded the one hour flight to Jakarta. The airport was very picturesque - Jakarta? Mmm, not so much. Big city. Lots of people. LOTS of them. I was surprised on the bus to see where and how they crowd the houses in the cities and towns. Maybe not as surprised to pass a Starbucks on the way to Bogor, though…..

Bogor was an (uneventful!) two hour bus ride straight from the airport. I had thought, it being outside of the city, that it would be quiet…peaceful…relaxing. Again? Not so much. Over a million people here, and I swear they are all driving the green and blue minivans, buses and taxis that circle the garden - It’s like a NASCAR track. Checked into the Pensione Firman hotel and rested the day and night there. Basic accomodations, with a delightful “breezy rooftop veranda” that overlooks neighborhoods of Bogor and out towards the jungles and volcanos. Included in the price is a five am wake up call from the mosque next door! (Really, though, you can’t get away - you hear the chanting from everywhere and all mosques).

Yesterday morning I had breakfast with two Dutch guys staying at the hotel - after a three hour conversation over Indonesian coffee, they invited me to join them for their plans for the day. Both of them - one with 15 years of Indonesian travels under his belt, and the other with an Indonesian mother - turned out to be the best pseudo-local completely fluent tourguides a girl could ask for. They both train in the Indonesian style of martial arts - later I found that I was traveling with the second place world champion from 1997 (who knew?!) - and were in the area to train their national/specialized master and other higher-ups, and to participate in a special ceremony honoring the transition of a student to advanced level. This is what I had the privilege to attend. Two hours and three bus connections later, the three of us were trekking through a village outside of Bogor to meet their master, and his VERY extended family, all living on the same plot of land, in bamboo and concrete homes/rooms surrounded by gardens.

Highlights of the night include: watching old and young practice and train, playing peekaboo with the Indonesian great-grand child of the village head, listening to his son-in-law perform on the flute, violin and other traditional instruments, watching the wayan goleng (puppet) master perform (when he asked me to try puppeteering, he announced that it was the naughtiest puppet of all, with a woman’s hand up his garments…!!…..), participating in the traditional ceremony all seated on the ground around 25 different plates of rice, meats, potatos, chili sambal!, spices, flowers, leaves, fish (which they all served on my plate…over and over and over and over..), and finally, after being told by the village elder/head that I HAD TO DANCE, training with women from three generations of traditional Balinese dancers for an hour, and then performing it for EVERYONE.

The ceremonial aspect of the day prevented me from taking too many pictures, but I know that there is video footage on a friend’s digital camera. Maybe I’ll post that eventually.

NEW as of 8-26-05 - Thanks Oliver!!!

Three things I didn’t expect to encounter in Indonesia:

(1) “Paradise City” blaring from a cell phone….of a very stern and serious man in traditional garb in back of a bemo in the middle of nowhere

(2) (Only funny to my science friends) After telling my Dutch friends that my thesis work was cancer research, he asked me if I had ever heard of something called BRCA1. ?!?!?! I actually found myself saying….”Have you ever heard of a gene called p53?”

(3) Probably the most stern, serious and very unsmiling elder of the village, and master of these arts, at first a little unwilling to meet me, later call me Gabrielle Sabatini and think it was the funniest thing he’d ever said (this was the puppeteer master).

It is crazy here, I’ll tell you that much, but wonderful. I *LOVE* it. My four weeks of learning the language were a little pointless, as most people understand English, but really gets me laughs while I try and butcher their language. One of the Dutch is completely fluent in Indonesian (and Javanese, and Sundanese, and Bogor, and Balinese, and…..) - it was amazing to watch a bemo full of somber Muslim women villagers’s faces light up, joke and laugh within seconds when they spoke the local lingo (and I tried my damnest to speak!). So learning the language is my main priority. Luckily I have the chance to practice!!!

Off the Bandung maybe? Or Gurat, I haven’t made up my mind.