A new poem and two girls who are excited for Thailand (Jordan)

Hey friends and family! It has now been 2 months since we leftt home for Fiji and we are officially in it. We like to say we are in it to describe this backpacker lifestyle thing we are living. Being "in it" is different than most typical lifestyles.

Here is a poem written By Jordan entitled:

We're in it

Day four into Fiji, sleeping among lizards, sand and bunk beds, backpackers all around
We're in it

Where are you from, how long are you travelling, where are you going
We're in it

What is this bump, I am soooo sweaty, do you think this rash is something to be worried about
We're in it

You mean I have to pee in that, where's the toilet paper, watch your feet
We're in it

No I don't need transport, not now, not later, not tomorrow, but terima kasih
We're in it

What is that smell, I might throw up, did a bird really just fall from the sky and hit us dead
We're in it

All of my clothes are wet and stinky, I am sick of wearing that, can we go shopping
We're in it

These backpacks are so heavy, we need to get rid of stuff, why did we pack so much
We're in it

I don't want to buy one, not for your morning price or for good luck, I know it's only a dollar but it's ugly
We're in it

Cars, planes, bikes, buses, boats, mo-peds, vans, but mostly blistered, stubbed and bloody feet
We're in it

What's the meaning of life and death and differences in realities, what really is the color green
We're in it


I hope you enjoy this poem and it makes you laugh as much as it makes us laugh. Travelling is funny (actually hilareous), it is always a new adventure and ever exhausting and challenging. We are having way too much fun (despite a fierce sunburn thatI have from trying to surf on the equator). In three days we will be saying goodbye to Bali. We have learned so much here and we will take away a piece of this place in our hearts. But new adventures await. Talk to you later....from Bangkok!

Hindus, Volcanos, and another blister (megan)

The past two days have been really incredible. We went to Toyabunka
(town at the bottom of Mount Batur). The hike to the top of the
volcano was challenging, but it was so amazing to be up there. For
breakfast we had banana toast (yuck) and hard-boiled eggs. The fog
came in for a little while, but we still had an amazing view. Steam
was rising out of the volcano and when there was sand you could fly
down the mountain. 400 villagers died in the volcano explosion 20
years ago, two Germans hiking without a guide died in the last one.
The Indonesian government told the people that there would not be an
explosion again, so they either can't or don't live far enough away to
find safety if there is another eruption. You can see that even
people in the country or living in the mountains are sometimes
influenced by western culture (mostly the young ones…yeah, there's a
punk scene here). Toyabunka was so hard to be in, the people were SO
desperate for money and, so very aggressive about selling you things
(e.g. following you up the volcano for 6 hours to sell you a coke). We
met an English lady called Trisha and decided to hitch back to Ubud
the next day with her and her driver, Nyoman. We were reluctant to
leave because the fish was fresh from the lake and the Hindu people
were throwing a party, but free ride, low budget, and rain made our
decision for us. We went on a day trip the next day with Trisha and
Nyoman, up to the North Mountains. The trip, along with what we
learned from Nyoman, really amazed me. First we went to the Royal
temple, then to the market: cashews, mangosteen, snakefruit, lychees,
and an avocado for less than $3? Yes, please. We went to a gorgeous
temple on a lake and then to a waterfall, where we saw a gigantic
spider, yikes! The waterfall is so powerful and so amazing to watch.
I have been thinking about how much time we spend thinking wasteful
and negative thoughts in our lives (nearly all the time it can seem).
As our Raja yoga teacher said: 'Thoughts last but a moment in time,
feelings are eternal'. I was watching portions of water cascade down
this mountain and noticing that each of my thoughts fell from my mind
just as quickly. It was the feeling of the waterfall that was really
the amazing thing. Anyways, what I really want to talk about is
Nyoman. I starting crying during lunch after hearing about his life
and seeing his beautiful view about life. Nyoman taught us that
Balinese schools are badly under-funded. If a student doesn't pass
all five of the subjects of the national test he is held back and
bored/humiliated. Schools with the highest percentage of students to
pass the test are given the MOST funding for the next school year,
leaving those students failing to learn to fend for themselves. It is
common to allow students to cheat and use books during the testing in
some schools. The ministry of education takes a profit from the
publishers for requiring students to buy new books for school. Most
Balinese families cannot afford ANY extra expenditure. Nyoman's wife
has had a series of horribly paid jobs; all end up working her far too
many hours. She has had a job making paper bags and waiting tables,
but she cannot make more than $30/month. Nyoman himself makes very
little money as a tour guide, as he must turn over all of his profits
to the tour guide association. He makes almost nothing. During low
tourist season (and especially after the bombs lowering tourism), he
makes nothing. Nyoman made a comment about his belt being to large to
fit his thin waist, he said "after the first bomb I had to make a new
notch in the belt, after the second bomb, another notch". Although he
cannot afford to take the required guide class, he will be penalized
and fined if the government finds out. Nyoman, like most Balinese, is
a Hindu. It is his belief that all of life is a test from 'god'. He
maintains a positive attitude with the utmost sincerity. He is
thankful to his elders- when his grandfather dies he will honor him
through taking care of the younger generation, as Hindu's believe in
reincarnation. He gives offerings to the trees in order to give
thanks to them and help them grow. Hindus are not allowed to cut
bamboo trees on Sundays and Nyoman is very aware of the effect of
cutting down trees on the environment. He prays to nature as he would
to a deity. Most of the people in the mountains are self-sustaining
and grow organic crops. Most people do not make a profit on their
crops, including rice. When Nyoman was young he would often help his
mother plant rice and large fruits. When planting rice one must have
their feet in cold water while they place each seed into the mud. In
order to keep the feet warm, they spread kerosene on them. When
Nyoman was planting the large crops he had to be up to his chest in
the cold water. This meant that he had to spread the kerosene over
his entire body. This was also helpful in stopping some of the snakes
and leeches living in the muddy water from clinging to his body.
Nyoman NEVER focused on anger or pity, but spoke of an amazing
devotion to Hindu and the importance of a positive attitude. He was
one of the most peaceful people I have met. I learned so much from
him. You really can't experience peace until you are free from
negative emotions. We should be thankful for everything in our lives,
good and bad. It is all just a challenge, and the perception that you
have of it will change the way you experience this life. SIMPLICTY
and PEACE, I am looking for it.

What happens inside the journal (Jordan)

It has been a while since I have posted anything. Again, technology has become an intimidation. But I would like to post an excerpt from my journal which unlike this blog of minimal detail, is bursting with my feelings and experiences.

March 13^th, 2007

I am sitting in from of Mt. Batur in the North of Bali overlooking a misty lake. I have been bathing in the hot springs at an absolutely luxurious setting within the walls of a mecca of Balinese architecture, steaming pools, fresh, fluffy towels, cold juice and views that actually look more like oils on canvas than real nature. Just outside these walls that enclose me is a poverty stricken twilight zone like, depressed quiet town. In Toya Bungkah kids wander the streets trying to sell snacks, whining, “no tourists come here, we have no money, buy one.” Stray dogs pick through human’s garbage and we watch as little girls pluck lice out of one another’s scalps. The local hot springs by the lake contains too many bodies and plenty of floating garbage. We can’t help but feel like snobs when we find huge relief in locating the “tourists only hot springs.” Here we are able to relax and pretend that other world outside these walls ceases to exist.

It is hard to say no to everyone who begs and it is impossible to say yes. I often wonder why I was given this life and they got theirs. I ponder these ideas to exhaustion and accept and appreciate different realities. Each day I am tested and I learn new lessons. I am recognizing certain coincidences I am experiencing (people I meet, conversations I have, things I notice and see) that are far beyond the possibility of mere chance. This is a journey of reflection and a time of vulnerability and strength. In moments I feel pure calm and peace. In other instances I feel scared, shocked, completely overwhelmed.

Traveling is not easy. However, 2 hour spa treatments over looking rice patties and bathing in floral baths is beyond divine. But I believe to be a good traveler one must treat themselves to such luxuries ever so cautiously. There is a cliched concept which defines the difference between a tourist and a traveler. One can go to Rome and see the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel or to Paris to see the view from the Eiffel tower, but without forming a true and honest connection and understanding of cultures that are home to such wonders, a traveler becomes simply a tourist.

To be a traveler in Bali is to “say no with warmth” to all the people on the street who plead for your business (transport, buy one for good luck, please help me). To be a traveler in Bali is to test your stomach’s luck by trying a delicious meal that costs fifty cents from the vendor on the street. To be a traveler in Bali is to try your very best in respect of the Hindu culture to not step on the incense, flower and rice laden offerings that line the streets every so abundantly. To be a traveler in Bali is to shake the hands of the young and the old and share a smile and a glance; practice meaningful contact.

Megan and I have been partaking in a nightly meditation course here in Ubud. We left the 1^st class feeling charged and full of truth. The next day we had planned to go climb a volcano and stay in the mountains for 3 days. We left our guru a note apologizing that we would be unable to finish the course. After one day in the mountains and an extremely rewarding sunrise trek up an active volcano we found ourselves back in Ubud. Having missed just one class we were back at the meditation center. “I had a feeling you two would be back tonight,” said out teacher when we came through the door. In this short course I have already learned so much. I have learned some simple tools to help make everyday life, which right now is traveling, easier. To replace irritation with love, patience and tolerance is to have peace. To appreciate silence and practice giving gifts of pure thoughts and good feelings is to have peace. To only have concern with the things you know are true and to not become too pre-occupied with the madness of this world is to have peace. To use creativity and cooperation to solve problems is to have peace. The law of physics says that when a problem arises the solution already co-exits, “how hard can anything be.” To understand that life is circular and balance exists is to have peace. To remember that thoughts last a mere instant and feelings last forever is to have peace.

These are lessons that will guide me in my life and help me to be a peaceful, loving and content person. This is why I explore myself while at the same time exploring the world and embracing so many different minds and cultures. It is these explorations and this journey that have true meaning; to me this is traveling.

Peace and Love,

Jordan

Sleeping with lizards (plus a summary of way too many things) (Megan)

Wow. Bali. Another world altogether, simply a completely and totally different world. We first went to Kuta, yikes, this place is so full of markets and people and motorbikes and satay stands and surf boards…all crammed into tiny alleys which vans maneuver through with skill like I’ve never seen. We went body boarding on the beach (you can buy one brand new for $20), but this beach was so full of filth and people that we didn’t know what to do. We were ready to leave, so we bargained with a guy to take us to the middle of nowhere (otherwise known as dreamland beach). Here, there are about 12 places to stay and only two with electricity. It was all good though, because the beach was amazing and there weren’t very many people. This time we were freaked out by word-of-mouth news that there was a cyclone headed our way. We weren’t sure what to do because we couldn’t get a ride back until morning and we didn’t know how big the threat was. We found out that the cyclone hit a different island, but it did have an affect on the waves in Bali. The tide was higher than ever before, which means that the current is stronger. Jords and I were taking a stroll up the cliffs when the tide rose. We couldn’t walk on the beach, so we saw a lady walking along a rocky ridge and followed her. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a huge wave came crashing over our heads, knocking us to our knees. Jords got pushed to the sand, but I was smashed into the rocks, yikes, and had my ankles shredded (not to mention my sunglasses lost their lenses and my shoes were donated to the fish). Okay, so time to get out of ‘dreamland’. Actually, we were lucky to have seen it, because they are blowing the place up (inc. all the places to stay…owners are s.o.l.) in order to build a golf course. We came to Ubud (an inland town and place to lick my wounds). We really love it here and have been here about a week. We have been meeting a lot of the locals, got an amazing (and amazingly cheap) massage, took bikes to the rice fields, temples, and villages. We saw a fire dancing/trance show. I was invited to help teach at a local elementary school (super fun and in serious need of some books). We have been to the markets, walked through a monkey forest, eaten crazy Indo pudding, and danced our butts off with a crazy guy (lots of those here). This is an artisan town, so nearly everyone is a painter or a wood carver. Since the bombings, the travel has severely decreased and people are really hurting for cash everywhere. We have met some really great people and have been learning about Africa, France, Vietnam, and many other countries that we wouldn’t have thought about here. It is really great to have advice from so many unexpected people. We are just about ready to go to the coast again, so I think that after some yoga, bird watching, glassblowing, and hiking, we will be heading north. Yep, that just about sums up 1% of what is going on here.

XOXO Megan

Sensational (Jordan)

“These emotions, these sensations cannot be described or expressed in the language of poets and painters, musicians and mystics; they must be absorbed without reply, as animals do with their contemplative and entranced eyes.”
-Ezeqiel Martinez Estrada

To try to “blog” this trip is difficult and intimidating. Every time we get to the internet we are bombarded with emails, news, pop culture, questions, information. We are inside another world right now and outside of all of this. We love getting emails from our friends and family but, please be understanding in that words cannot convey this life we are living here and now.

So here is a brief re-cap of Sydney. We were hosted by the lovely and humorous Italian Couch Surfer, Gionata. He and his three roommates opened their home to us as if we were friends for years. In Sydney we walked, trained, bussed, and took ferries all over the beautiful city. The famed Opera House, Bondi Beach, Oxford Street, Newtown, George Street, Darling Harbour. Sydney provided us with a good four days of transition in between relaxing Fiji and crazy Asia. We went to Manly Beach where we met some of Sarah’s friends from New Zealand and enjoyed a nice dinner. We took advantage of the ease of traveling in an English speaking country.



If you can imagine a place as opposite as Australia or the US then it is here in Indonesia where we are now. We arrived in Bali 5 days ago and we are taking it all in. Every place I have been in Asia is fairly similar. More mo-peds than cars, price haggling, the smell of incense, exotic fruits, colorful fabrics, intense odors, sticky heat, cheap food, lots of rice, endless temples, narrow streets, lush vegetation, garbage, stray animals, stray humans, backpackers galore and rice patties. Needless to say, walking down the street is a completely entertaining experience. We arrived in Kuta and stayed two days in the over developed transit city. After that we went to Dreamland beach where there is nothing more than a good beach break for surfing and some bungalows. We did enough of that in Fiji so we opted to come to the artisan town of Ubud inland Bali where we reside now. Our hotel room which is placed within the stoned walls of a garden is $2.50 per night. A staple food has become Gado Gado, or steamed veggies with peanut sauce, accompanied by fresh fruit juices. We have been tasting the local produce such as mangosteens and snake fruits. We plan on visiting the Monkey Sanctuary today and renting bikes to visit a Hindu river temple. So that is it for now as I have been on the internet for over an hour right now and I am starting to feel overwhelmed. Off to the other world now.

“The first commandment for every good explorer is that an expedition has two points: the point of departure and the point of arrival. If your intention is to make the second theoretical point coincide with the actual point of arrival, don’t think about the means—--because the journey is a virtual space that finishes when it finishes, and there are as many means as there are different ways of finishing. That is to say, the means are endless.”

Ernesto “Che” Guevara
The Motorcycle Diaries

A poem I wrote in Bali (Megan)

Stories from Fiji and Bali

I saw many people searching.

I saw more people begging.

I heard one person’s soul speaking after many days of listening.

I read about two men whose bodies were burning for justice.

What have I learned?

I watched lines of ants telling their stories like peddlers in the markets.

Where trying is watching,

But doing is nothing and spending is abounding.

I’ve danced with stray dogs like no one was watching on the water’s low tide.

What have I learned?

We cannot predict.

I’ve been myself in a crowd of strangers.

I’ve been a stranger to myself.

I wrote what I thought, what I saw, what I hated.

I wrote without thinking.

What have I learned?

Everything changes.

I was knocked down by the powerful sea.

I was knocked down by the sight of a mother.

I begged and pleaded.

I sat in silence.

What have I learned?

Say “no” with warmth.

I met two brothers who went crazy and spoke with a different language.

I met a crazy man with a broken foot who laughed with commitment.

He knew my uncle and helped him mend a broken heart.

I walked through a graveyard in search of a helpful palm tree.

What have I learned?

Where language is abundant, limiting, and revealing-

I will reflect a true message.

In a world of constant speaking I will speak in a way that is meaningful to me…and maybe to you.

Megan (March 7, 2007. Ubud, Bali)