Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Jungle Boogie


So just a quick update. The Jungle calls.

To sum it up, I have been having a blast, so much fun in the forest, in camp, and everything is just darn swell.


What can you do when a flanged orangutan is sitting in the middle of the Jalan Lintas (the path from camp to the nearby village, Pasir Putih or Trapon) but sit down yourself from where the point you saw him and check him out as he checks you out. It was a beautiful day and I didn’t blame him for coming out into the open, the warmth. As a fellow primate I understood and respected him. And there I was, sitting, being, observing, a butterfly fluttering around me and then he stood up like a man, looking at me, walking ahead some, looking back, a beautiful rusty red fur against the green ferns of the path. This is his home and I imagine he comes to this spot in rememberance of the forest that used to extend beyond, now vanished from the fires of 09. A lone roamer, always on the move with wanderlust.


I continue to see and experience how life comes and goes so fast. Whether with object or action. Already 6 months in Indonesia, it feels like a lifetime has passed as much as it feels like just a split second.

My heart ached once again for the loss of another feline friend, our dear Mamma Mia. But the 3 wild kittens live on, thriving, exploring, making camp even more into a home. And other life is soon on the way. Our young cook Jubai is expecting any day and Nicole sometime in February.

I have been having so much fun in the forest. Jungle Boogie. It has been a party. That is, there have been may parties, orangutan parties, ie whenever there is more than one orangutan within 50m. And so it has been exciting and exhilarating, sometimes with up to 6 individuals in the same area, trying to keep track of who’s who and who’s where. And then there have been very unique or still very unknown, unhabituated orangutans. Well first there was Dayak, who is a habituated flanged male, but is very special indeed. Most of his upper lip is gone, looks as if it was bitten off (he must of pissed off a very large flanged male) and so it looks like he is always snarling at you. Quite comical and pitiful at the same time. But I like Dayak, we bonded.

The recent past had been full of Long Call Alarms, waking up from long calls because a flanged male was literally outside my room, which had also been the x marks the nest spot, sleeping right near camp. One day after teaching english, a flanged male showed up by my room and I followed him like alice down the rabbit whole, meeting a psychadelic grasshopper (very colorful) on the way.

And it has been wet. The rainy season is a coming, turning some transects into rivers.

There have been silly times in the forest…singing and dancing (the cure to distress and fatigue). Newbies and good times= good vibes. Guitars are out and rocking, Indonesian love songs are being learned and melting into the night.

Then end of all misery! The new boardwalk begins!! Pure luxury.

It is quite interesting…in theory, our assistants the local dayak people in all the river villages are living in poverty, but when you compare that to poverty of the city, it doesn’t seem so, having the bare essentials food, shelter, not living in human created filth (except for the whole Kapuas river paradox of shitting where you bathe..)

Orange.

The color, the fruit, the state of mind, the desire, satisfying, quenching some unknown but felt need. Like the rainjacket in a sheet of wet; sturdy clipboard; worn in canteen; official data log. Scrawny piece of tagging serving as a keychain, weathered dictionary. Orange gives light, it is brightness; exciting, energizing, enlightening peace, calling for respect, admiration, like an Orangutan's coat and the robes of Buddhist monks, so gentle it brings tears to the eyes to think of their destruction, loss of freedom, home and life.

Realizations made in the forest are released to join the surrounding life and every glance up into the canopy makes you feel a little bit higher and higher.



Getttin' a feel for it

Sidony and Sony

Leo and I

Meet Camp

Wodan resting on the ground

Wodan

Sun Kissed

The Bany and Diky Show

Cuddles

Fuzzy Caterpillar!

Close Encounters with Tony

Cute Cebol with Mama

Dear Dayak


No stress in one’s natural habitat, living humbly, simply.

The waking life has been has become full of Indonesian and Dayak words and eating wild fruit off the forest floor.

While in dreams I see places I have yet to known.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

So I’ve been out of the jungle for a bit, earlier than I had originally thought but that just goes to show that nothing can be planned here. Like infected mosquito bites. Not pretty, I’m talking about craters on my legs. Lesson learned: never, ever scratch or begin to touch mosquito bites or anything itchy. Oops just broke my promise right now, I had an itch on my leg.

I feel like it is always just the beginning. Always something new to experience. Whether the first time sweating the most in your life outside of a sauna or having flies on your legs eating the puss from mosquito bites.

The last month at camp has been quite active and exciting, all starting with the arrival of the Swiss students right before I left for Bali, and all was well. Right away there was this clean, efficient re-organization of camp and everything. Very refreshing and inspiring, with this new air of energy and enthusiasm.

The few days of being back involved a pregnant kitty and then 3 kittens born on the bookshelf in my room, wonderful women time, eating real breakfast like cereal and pancakes our cook makes sometimes, swiss chocolate, cooking pasta, mini dance parties, coming upon orangutans, appreciating the forest more with an almost new outlook, new datasheets, new data, sleeping better, more energy, more laughs, more smiles, sarong parties (days when it’s just us girls at camp and we lounge around in our sarongs), brainstorming community outreach and living immersed in each moment.

Orangutans have been abundant and plentiful, that is to say they have been around or we’ve been able to find them. I came back to Jinak and Jerry, a mother and her older infant who is about 6. They day was going pretty normal (although Jerry has a history of being very curious and coming down to check out people eating and their hammocks, some people most likely fed him in the past…tsk tsk) when a male, probably flanged because he was making so much noise traveling, started to approach from the distance. Nothing happens right away. Then, just as I had sat down about 20m from the group to eat my lunch, I see Jinak and Jerry fleeing across the transek, traveling quite low to the ground and fast obviously moving away from this male. I didn’t realize how fast they were going until I walked over to the direction they were heading in and they had vanished, very possibly to travel on the ground. So we stood in the transek for a moment wondering how that just happened, when Preman, the flanged male comes in the same direction and then stops about 5m from the ground and 15m from us. He is just sort of sitting there and then he long calls. At this point we didn’t know it was Preman yet, who has a reputation of being pretty lazy and laid back, not at all like Nico the big-bad-dad-boss-man of the forest, and so I was a bit frightened and shocked to be hearing a long call from so near. You can hear long calls from up to 1km away if not more. Like when I was hanging out at camp one day, just doing my laundry when I hear the grumbles of a call from the north maybe 800m away and then some minutes later a response from the south and just as I was pondering this vocal duel, there was another response from the first individual in the north (I imagined it was Nico, having flashbacks to when I ran into him by myself and ‘ran away’ as slow as possible, making a huge loop around to get back to camp, the whole time shaking with fear). And so we started to follow Preman (later recognized by the dip cut out of his flange and a scar on his back) as he ate his way through the forest, high to low, leaves, bark, termites, whatever caught his eye.

I saw my first owl the other evening, almost back at camp from a day following Sony, Sidony’s newborn infant, watching him observe his surroundings- his mother, us- play with twigs, leaves, be held by his mother as she looked at him suckle, and even explore the area out of body contact with her (very rare for young infants to leave their mothers body or not be always clinging). These days, when I see a human baby I see an orangutan infant and vice-versa. It really is amazing.

One morning, as Jacquie (the Brazilian, Swiss student who redid our whole map to precise accuracy) and I were walking out into the forest for another intense day of mapping or checking the tags for two 3000km transeks, Miss Mia our mamma kitty followed us from camp on the boardwalk as if she wanted to joing or wish us a good farewell. I was even more surprised when she continued to follow us on the transect, jumping down and then proceeding to hop like a jungle-bunny-deer. But then she paused to lick an itch and I suppose returned to camp shortly after.

That day I discovered the glory of my hiking boots and poles.

My longest day in the forest started as any other follow, except a bit earlier at 4am because we had to cover about 1500m to get to the nest. We were following Sidony, Sony and Streisel, a mother with her 2 offspring, Sony (5mo born in March) and Streisel (about 6 or 7 who is semi-independent). The are a southeast family with a recent history of making nests as late as possible, when darkness hits the forest, which can be quite heavy when you are about 1 ½ hours in the dark away from camp. But if you can do it in the morning, you can do it at night. It was exciting big news when Sidony, Sony, Streisel were found, for they had not been followed since Sony’s birth and we still have little data on them. Sony is a tiny little creature, with clown hair and the silliest expressions, hilarious and cute.

We were in the far east around 5pm and still they hadn’t made their nest. My supply of fluids was running out as my patience dwindled with the fading of the light. The journey back, though long and hard, went by, but not without an intense feeling of dejavu’ on the part of trasek WS without boardwalk, a challenge to gain footing on small trunks laid across swampy mud areas, struggling in the non supportive clumsy gum boots, and feeling a deep sense of fear, anxiety, creeps when I realized I’ve been here before because I dreamt of this moment in a previous nightmare. And I was there, living it, overcoming it, rising above my fears. I arrived at camp both broken in body and spirit with newly infected mosquito bites (that I am just healing from right now). But I was still excitied to see the Dayak-Muslim nuptial ceremony for our partime cook Jubai and our assistant Idun. The highlight of the night wasn’t the actual wedding which involved a lot of paperwork and explanations, some vows and other things we bulehs didn’t really understand. The most interesting part was when they did the blessings of the couple with egg whites, rice and water, placed on the head, forehead and sprinkled with some leafy vegetation over the body. Later we all started dancing on the specially made stage to poppy-electro-asian-videogame songs that played over and over, the favorite being ayam tripping (tripping chicken), with the kids, young adults and a couple of the older women. It was silly and fun.

The most recent last week at camp, it was us 3 bulehs (whities) at camp with the cook Ibu Igo and her husband Cedi who works on transeks, and our nightguards. Then when the cook left and our sub cook couldn’t work anymore, the two guards Icun and Nurdin, young guys from the village jumped in and became our gourmet cooks as well. It was so surprising and so awesome when we saw them coming to camp with fish they had just caught from the little canal and fresh young fern they just picked as well as young banana, breadfruit and coconut and one hour later we had an amazing meal, in the top I’ve had at camp!

I started teaching English to the local kids. My first English class was both challenging and hilarious, with almost all the kids from Trapon and Tuanan (about 20) plus the curious parents and older villagers. Arriving from Trapon via klotok (dayak boat) we unlocked the school which felt like had been abandoned and unused for years and in a sense had with school being on pause without a teachers for some months. Right away the kids start grabbing the stick brooms and sweep the dust off the tables and floors, a direct example of their enthusiasm and motivation for school. Unfortunately, it was so dark inside, so the setting for English class has become the area right outside of the school, bringing out the benches formed into a u and me standing by the blackboard leaning against the trees. The best part so far was singing “Head, shoulders, knees and toes” and getting them to join in. Last class I tried the “Hokey Pokey” but I think that’s a bit advanced right now so it was pretty much just me doing “the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around.” Good times.

I really do begin to miss the forest after being away for even just a few days. It’s something special, that goes deep into the self. There is always a noise, sounds abound around endlessly, infinite rhythmic melodic beats of the rainforest that tell the story of life, the all encompassing reality of the symbiotic relationship between animals and plants and how one cannot exist without the other.

Interspecies connections enlightens a path to new ways of living, in acceptance rather than denial, like a parallel universe, distant worlds beyond our imagination.

Time flows as life goes. Kittens will crawl, slowly open their eyes, some with one eye already peering, as lovers will someday soon be reunited and flanged males will pronounce themselves with a long call reaching over their homeland.

At the end of our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

_T.S. Eliot





Dusk Volleyball Sesh

The exotic white sand dunes of Pasir Putih
Tragicomedy at Sungai Lading
Posing with our cook Ibu Igo
Selamat Hari Raya at Ibu Igo's house in Katunjung
Miss Mamma Mia and her wee babes
Hardcore jungle rockers
Hammockland!
cute kids of Trapon
Indonesia Independence day festivities
Hoopin
Milo doing termite calisthenics

Little boy Jip being silly
a bike ride in the sun
Trapon
never give up
Milo chillin
Kapuas


Gismo showing his strength
Jip playing around
Isidor
Kondor and Gismo having close connections while young Jerry hangs

Sidony and Sony

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Blissful Bali


Kecak



There is something truly amazing about Bali, the "last paradise." Maybe it's the sense and practice of a sprituality that is so colorful and so alive, the offerings hand made every day with such care and attention, the dancing, incsense smoke, hints of hindu philosophies that are to be heard around every corner...


Celebration at the Monkey Forest Pura


The first night arrived, I took a taxi to a homestay I looked up in my lonely planet, the first edition so about 15 years old. Just when the driver was about to turn around or drop me off in the middle of the street, I see the sign, hop out and walk down the driveway to what looks like someone's home which is essentialy what it was. There was a large open patio connected to one of the buildings, a raised temple like platform with some remnants of a past gamelan orchestra and then the open office area where there was an middle aged couple, the Bapak sitting down on a cushion in lotus position wearing a sarong and smoking a cigarette. They invite me to sit down and have some tea and then when they realize that I could speak a bit of Indonesian begin to ask me my story. I get to the point that I'm in Denpasar to go the international hosptial for some tests to see if I have any tropical parasites. Just as I'm asking where a good place to eat is, they say "oh you havn't eaten yet, you can eat here if you want," "really?"
So without realizing , I'm soon eating real balinese food, vegetables, rice, chicken and one of their daughters comes home, I meet her, then their younger son. The next thing I know I'm getting a ride by Kadek, one of the girls that works there to the hopsital. At the hospital, which is not too busy at 9pm, the woman doctor sees me right away, says I need this and this test and then proceeds to tell me about a cremation ceremony that is happening at her village in a few days and gives me her number. Wow. And I just got here a few hours ago.
So right from the beginning, I experienced this immense kindness, sharing and hospitality.





It was high season, european tourists everywhere especially the french and of course some Italians. To get to Ubud I take a bemo, small public mini bus, get off where another bemo was to take me the rest of the way, grab a fresh juice from the convenient stand right there. What next? A guy with a motorbike asks if I need a ride. Yes, a bit questioning if that was a good idea but I didn't want to wait so the next thing I know I'm on the back, holding on with my right hand, holding the juice in my left, no helmet, thinking this probably isn't the safest thing but deciding I'm just going to trust this guy. Luckily he goes slow and takes a back country road, passing by rice paddies and then climbing up monkey forest road dropping me off in the middle. That ride ended up being the cheapest during my whole trip, at about $2.





The next few days I spent in Ubud and around, actually spending one extra day. One day I 'hired' the manager of the first bungalows I stayed at to drive me around on his motorbike to visit some temples like the Goa Gajah cave dedicated to Ganesha, Gunung kawi that was a mountain city of carved temple walls and meditation caves, to take a dip and drink from the sacred waters of Tamapk Siring and to visit the nearby mountain Gunung Batur.







Every moment was wonderful, to be surrounded by Gamelan music, incense and offerings. I found myself smiling more than not and being in complete awe of everything.
I of course pampered myself with massage and scrubs and flower baths and enjoyed the highly energetic Kecak, monkey chant and beautiful intricate Legong dance.
The Balinese believe that with any sort of artistic expression, be it music or dance or anything, it is the gods that are moving through you. I could really feel that.


One day, wandering around the side streets to get away from the crowds and traffics, I came upon a faded sign outside a residential area of houses (which all look like temples) that read Dance and Music school. I paused for a second, not sure whether to go in or not and then asked a woman standing nearby. I walk in and ask another woman that points me to the houses in the back. I then met the guru's wife and made an appointment for the next afternoon. I come back to first have a lesson on a bamboo xylophone like instrument, sitting on cushions and copying the patterns that he was playing until I got them down and he joined in with interlocking patterns. It was energizing as well as peaceful and meditative. It felt so good to be playing music as I remembered how therapeutic and soul-strengthening it is.
The next hour was a dance lesson where I again copied his movements, the sharp hand motions, widened eyes, small head jerks with the rhythm kept in the hips and feet, imagining I was a young girl giving temple offerings.



My next stop was in Amed, a stretch of coastal beach towns where I spent an afternoon snorkeling and then didn't have a place to stay, so a manager of one of the bungalows offered to give up his room for the night. I ended up having dinner with him and his friends, eating the cock that lost the cock fight that became a tasty soup and the spiciest dish that I've had so far in Indonesia. They then invited me to join them on the beach with Bintang, a guitar and drums, where I was serenaded the rest of the night, until I said 'sorry boys, I need my beauty sleep.'

The next day I caught a ride with a car that was dropping off a swedish couple in Kuta, from where I wanted to leave as soon as possible and got another ride from yet another motorbike to a surfer's beach, Padang Padang, which I wasn't quite prepared for. It was like being in an international brotown Santa Cruz. But there I enjoyed the sun, floating in the shallow waters, almost stepping on sea snakes, watching a family of macaques that suddenly appeared on the cliffside where I was seeing the sun go down.



And back to the jungle I went, rejuvenated and rested.


Padang Padang

Now I am currently in the cafe in Palangka Raya where I spend four hours everyday, connecting with the world again, getting sucked into facebook, but most importantly talking to all of you friends and family and then of course enjoying moments like this when the 'Staying Alive' music video comes on and then 'Colors of the Wind' from Pocahontas. Hahaha.


Next up: more jungle stories