It's Bohemian

After leaving the slow pace of Laos, it was hard for us to adjust to life in the cluttered, chaotic city of Kuala Lumpur. We've been there before and know its ways, but still felt bombarded with smells, smog, and noise. We quickly made a visit to the 3rd Indian Embassy in attempts to get a visa because that was our next chosen destination. 3-5 days it was supposed to take to receive that pretty new visa on our American Passports. That is 3-5 days too many to be waiting around in KL, so we decided to flee to Melaka, a cute, calm little city just 2 hours South.

The decision was made solely because of the delicious, unique food that Melaka possesses. The cultures are diverse and the food portrays it. The Malays make specialities such as cendol which can best be described as a snow cone in a bowl with such oddities as beans, corn, dark syrup, and green, wiggly jelly things. It sounds bizarre, but it is actually pretty tasty. The locals go crazy over this stuff. There is a dish called popiah which is almost like a Mexican burrito but with rice paper and sauerkraut-looking stuff that is very sweet. I really enjoyed the Baba Laksa, which 8 months ago I never would have been able to eat because of its spice. It is a noodle dish drenched in a red coconut milk with lots of lemon grass and spices. You can get it with shrimp, veggies, fish balls, or dumplings. It is quite delicious!

The Indians living in Melaka have 'restorans'  all over town and are famous for their banana leaf meals. Only 4 Ringott, which equates to $1.30 USD, you can get 3 mixed specialities consisting of a runny spinach-corn mixture, a thick vegetable currie, and a lovely pinapple-cucmber blend to numb the spicy burning sensation. They will plop 'free-flow' rice on your banana leave and dump as much Vegetable Dahl or Chicken Curry as you would like. We often would add a plate of lamb to the mix as well. Our right hands would be stained bright orange from all the spices upon completion of our meal. I would often get a hot Tea Tarik, a milky sweet Indian Chai and James would always get a Teh O Ais, which is really sweet iced tea. Sometimes we would top the meal off with a sugary Roti Pisang, Banana Roti, which is always made to perfection. We were frequent customers at a popular place named Pak Putra, which was known for their Naan that was so soft and warm you could sleep on it for a pillow. It was spectacular, and after observing these Indian guys perfect their art of Naan-making I have even greater respect for every bite! I would usually get Garlic Naan to dip in a dish called Butter Chicken, but to me it tasted like a wonderfully thick tomato basil soup with thick chunks of buttery chicken. Sometimes I would order double cheese and garlic Naan which was stuffed with so much cheese I just wanted to hug the Naan…It was that delicious! I can't forget to mention the Tandori Chicken that was cooked in huge clay pots and so soft it would practically melt in your mouth. Definitely 2 thumbs up! This place was a little more pricy than the rest costing on average…$6 USD, but we would certainly walk away with a full belly and be stuffed the rest of the night.

Every visit to an Indian Restoran, I would have to build up the courage to give the Indian head wobble back to the nice guys who so patiently take my complex order, but in the end I always get scared and chicken out!… Tilting your head from side to side as if saying no, actually means the opposite. At first I would be afraid they would think I was insulting them if I did it wrong, or mocking them while having a huge smile on my face, but quite the contrary. They seem to be really please that you've made an attempt to adopt in some of their culture. I asked many Indian friends I have around town, and everyone said it was perfectly fine for me to do, in fact they would be elated to see a pretty blue-eyed girl, give them the wobble back. That head wiggling is the most expressive of of Indian gestures meaning Yes- the equivalent of a forward nod. But it also has the connotations of, I agree with you or Yes, I would like that. There is a universal message attached to that gesture, but it just didn't feel natural for me to do, so after the swift little Indian guys toke my order, I would curse myself for vocally saying Yes instead of giving them the head wobble. I'll work up the nerve one day…but for now let me continue raving about the food!…

As for the Chinese, I've ate so much American chinese food in my life that I am not as excited to eat these dishes than normal…until I discovered a couple dishes. Most notably, a dish called Char Siew, which translated means Charcoaled Pork. It is a fatty pork cooked in long strips in a mouthwatering Honey BBQ glaze. The meat will be placed over rice and a sweet sauce will be drizzled over that. It is beyond scrumptious!! My first visit to Melaka I was staying at a guesthouse across the street from this hawker center, so naturally I would wander across the road and eat myself silly. This second trip to Melaka, we stayed on the other side of town, and I never once minded the blistering heat beating down on my skin, as I took the walk across town in order to get a plate of Char Siew. I literally ate there over 30 times. I got to be such good friends with the owners of the stand that at one point a member of their family asked James and I  if we'd like to road trip to China with them because they had 2 extra seats in their car…And we actually might come back at the time in 2011 when they are planning on making the long haul from Malaysia, up through Thailand, to Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Beijing?!…

I also discovered another food stand at that same hawker center that served one of the most appetizing noodle soup I've yet to slurp in SE Asia. Anyone who knows me, knows about my noodle soup infatuation. I just can get enough of the stuff! I love everything from the spirited broth to the chopsticks and little spoons. I eat every bite with appreciation and often give my compliments to the overworked chefs. This particular soup is relatively popular among the Chinese crowd, and they always seemed to be amazed that a foreigner discovered one of their sacred dishes. This noodle soup stand has a unique situation. They open at about 8pm and close around 2 or 3am. It seems that the Chinese Malays eat well into the night and have no problem staying up into the early morning to enjoy their food. This noodle soup stand is run by a family of Chinese. The uncle arrives in early evening to prepare the stand, getting the broth boiling, the packs and packs of homemade noodles set up, and repeatedly cleaning the stainless steal counter tops.is hair is always slicked back and he often combs it Danny Zucko style with the comb in his back pocket. The character that makes this precious soup stand so interesting is the old mother. She looks like one of the most mean, angry, intimidating woman I have ever seen in my life. Frankly, she frightens the daylight out of me and all the others around her. She strikes fear into children, and I have never once seen her smile. Her slave, I mean son, takes the orders and delivers the hot steamy bowls of soup to the customers. He is a happy guy in his mid-30s that doesn't really seem to be bothered when his mother yells at him loudly in front of all the happily fed foodies. The uncle runs around collecting empty bowls and cleaning up, and the father- husband of the mean lady- is the actual soup master. I have never seen or heard him speak a single word. He stands there making bowls of soup until the last customer is fed, and never shows a hint of exhalation the whole time his infuriated wife barks order to him. I only deal with the son, who knows my order before I tell him. He brings me the homemade noodle soup and I pay him. I want no dealing with his mother. I can't even make eye contact with her directly because she strikes such a horror in me and others around me. It doesn't take away from their business though, people put up with it because the soup is so tasty. I can't help but feel sad for the sun who has probably been working at the noodle stand since his youth, and will probably stand hunch-backed over the steaming bubbling broth, late into his 70s, just like his father.

Another chinese delicacy is the Dim Sum breakfasts next door to our guesthouse. They open at sun rise and close at 11am. We usually start with a nice hot pot of chinese tea, point at numerous mystery dishes, and finish up with some sweet buns. We never really know what we order, because they are all small dishes of steamed or fried savory dumplings containing various fillings. At one point I ate a fish and seaweed steamed dumpling along with boiled chicken foot…after that I wasn't able to eat a Dim sum breakfast for weeks!… We've gotten to be good friends with the people that run the shop, and even the demanding black and white cat that cleans up any leftover food.

Perhaps your asking how we came to discover all this good food?…Well  the 3-5 days we were waiting for our India visa turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. I ended up getting my visa, but not James…we deduced this was because he was smuggled out of Iran as a young child. In the mean time, my bank account got hacked. Peculiar charges started showing up from .com companies, that I certainly didn't purchase from, so Bank of America shut down my account and told me they would FedEx a new card over asap! I had some American money stashed away in case of a situation like this, so we managed to get by. After 11 days I called to check in on my missing card situation, and they couldn't find the precise address of the guesthouse I was staying at, so they sent my card back to America…. stranded again… this time with less money… To make an extremely long and frustrating story shorter- After talking to over 20 different associates, they still didn't resolved my banking issues. I finally got a card that didn't work, then an incorrect pin number… 3 months later and my problems are finally starting to be resolved. With all the Bank of America frustration

We made some unforgettable friends while in Melaka. Namely Howard and Sam, the guys who run Ringo's Foyer Guesthouse. Howard is happy-go-lucky chinese guys who is absolutely larger than life. His character kept me laughing everyday! He is absolutely perfect for his job and is one of the most interesting, accommodating person I have ever met in my life. He speaks little bits of every language from interacting with so many foreigners. He has the most interesting background, and such cheerful mannerisms. Months later…we still catch ourselves talking in 'Howard Slang.' Sam is a local Malay who just finished his studies at his university. He is always chipper, cheerful, and in good spirits. Most nights I would hop on a mountain bike and ride for miles on end with him around Melaka and the outskirts, helping him train for his bike marathon. He would take me to eat at all his favorite places around town, and recommend the best dishes. Howard is a Chinese-Malay so he is able to practice his choice of religion freely, but Sam however can not. He was born a Malay which automatically make him a Muslim. He cannot drink, smoke, have piercings, get tattoos, have sex before marriage, and all the other bad things that normal people do without thinking twice. If he gets caught by the religious police for breaking any of their strict rules, then he will go to jail, and be penalized with heavy fines. He so badly wants to act out of rebellion, but fears the law and his mother. I talked him into letting me cut his nice school boy hair into a mohawk….He was felt so elated by his badass haircut, that he actually wore his earrings out in public! I thought I did him a good deed by liberating him a bit, but on the day when he invited me to join him in attending a traditional Malay wedding celebration where his mother would also be attending, I felt like maybe by cutting his hair into a badass style, I would only get him into trouble. He wore his skull cap, so his mother didn't even notice…and I actually didn't even get to attend the wedding because the car broke down on the way and we were stuck for hours in the blistering heat on the side of the road. I don't know how all the Malaysian women wear their nice outfits that cover every inch of their body…I thought I was going to overheat in the garments I borrowed from a local girlfriend.

After traveling the world for months on end, I was glad to feel like I had a home. I wasn't a nomad wandering the globe for that month and a half…I felt like a local with an address. I knew all the places to go, how to get there, how much to pay, and had friends all over town. Howard, Sam, and a couple other travelers who found comfort in Ringo's Foyer and didn't want to leave, were a temporary family that I came to value. I would look forward to hearing their plans for the day, how their night went last night, and all the other wacky situations that arise out of a culturally diverse group of humans.

I busied myself by getting involved in the Arts scene by gallery hopping, spray painting graffiti on the rooftop, and joining local photographers and makeup artists in numerous photo-shoots. They were enamored by my blonde hair, long, straight nose, and the curve of my lips…So unlike their features. They would boost my ego by bragging to others about how they were working with a 'professional American model.' They would stare at me with huge almond eyes when I would walk out of my changing room in full costume and make-up while towering over them in my stilettos. It was a fun way to pass time and help out in marketing efforts of the local and their businesses. I also spent hours on end building websites for thriving companies. I got in the habit of waking up at noon, working till 4am, not working out, and eating whatever I wanted-whenever I wanted. A habit that I broke all too soon after departing Melaka and traveling onwards.

For the 45 days I spent in Melaka, majority of my evenings were spent on the rooftop to watch the sunset. It soothed me to feel the contentment that the color blends calm me with. The call to prayer rings out from numerous mosques all over the city all at once, announcing it is time for Muslims to make one's devotions for the day. "Allah hu Akbar, Allah hu Akbar"….

You hear this cacophony 5 times a day, and although I'm not religious- it kind of acts as an alarm clock for me to take a time out to myself and do a bit of meditation. Inward thinking. My minds' discourse of considered thoughts on any intense subject. Most often positive reflections on my life, and happiness for the path I have chose to take. Through my sporadic meditations I have come to realize that nothing in my life is as important as my family. Nothing matters as much as them. I am unattached to everything, don't have responsibilities towards anything, or feelings of obligations to anything…except for my blood. And honestly, I couldn't think of a better bunch of people to feel so strongly for. If it takes leaving your known universe to understand, in clarity, a sense of bond, love, and solidarity- then I urge everyone to withdraw from their comfort zones. I often go through a system of rumination- I take 5 deep breaths, picturing 5 times different faces of the same person in different situations. First mother, then my father, then sister, then uncle, grandparents, aunts, cousins, and friends so close I could call them family. It takes quite awhile for this process to complete. Most of the time I loose focus because of external factors….I'm still working to control this, but more often than not, I get sidetracked due to jolly giggles that are produced from the images my minds' eye produces of my father. Whenever I think of him and all his expressions and manners, my chain of musing always get interrupted by eye watering happiness. I never have a problem getting through the 5 deep breaths for my mom. It is always pretty easy to picture her smiling face, alluring demeanor, tenacious will, and radiant disposition. I can't help but regard her as my divine creator. The person who made my beautiful life possible. Once my mindful meditations get past the first 2 in my hierarchy, the rest are less difficult. In each breath I try to channel positive energy to my loved ones, and hope my good karma keeps theirs good as well… I'm aware my unconventional ideals and social habits seem quite bohemian, but it works for me. It keeps me traveling along the right path….

I think I might be missing my family a bit more than usual?!… Sorry to go off on that rant- If you understand that about me- I might make sense to you a bit more?…Anyways, back to my last night in Melaka…Howard, Sam and the rest of the guesthouse dwellers planned a nice going away party for us. Included was more BBQ than anyone could possibly eat, and too many bottles of Lychee Vodka we get from a local bootlegger for an unbelievable rate. Needless to say we were up all night with full bellies and belligerent stories. At one point in the night the black and white cat that frequents the Dim Sum place joined us! I kind of took him under my wing (against Howard's will) and his meowing became an all too frequent sound around the guesthouse…To make a long animal story short- This cat ended up making me cry for hours. I was SO sad to be leaving these individuals I had grown to love, and I cried in the arms of Howard with the black streams of my makeup staining my face. Yes, I was utterly inebriated (you have to understand how little I indulge in booze since leaving America) my tolerance was low and I was feeling vulnerable to emotional attacks. I just thought maybe it would happen while saying our final 'goodbyes' instead of being induced by a hardheaded cat. The next morning I woke up with a slitting headache, a rowdy stomach, and red, puffy eyes. We decided to stay another day…

Melaka was yet another unexpected delight! I would move there any day in a heartbeat. I miss Howard and Sam and think of them so often. I know I will see them again, I just wish I could put them in my pocket and carry them around with me everywhere I go. They are some of the greatest people we have met on our journey around the globe…and we've met some pretty fascinating people...

Malaysia has proven to be one of the most alluring journeys so far. I entered the great country with an open mind, and left with a fine appreciation for the people, the land, the culture, and especially the food! I travelled for a little over a month and really got to dive into the diversity that is Malaysia. On a daily basis we would chat with locals who warmly welcomed us to their country, "Welcome to Malaysia!" they would say with a sincere smile across their face as in saying we know this place has so much to offer and are sure you will enjoy it. They thanked us for being there, for discovering, for co-existing. I think that is the most suitable word I would use to describe Malaysia. CO-EXIST. The people with backgrounds from India, China, Thailand, Japan, Indonesia, and anywhere else in the region you could imagine, all lived crammed together in small cities and made it work so well. Walking down the street you would see Chinese Temples, hear the call to prayer from the mosque across the street, then glance out and see Hindu shrines. It was humbling  to see how tolerant everyone was of each others beliefs and cultures. And the food definitely represented the eclectic mix. I could rave about the food for paragraphs and still not do it justice. I have eaten some really spectacular meals in my life, but nothing compares to the delicious Malay food we. I got pretty scrawny the month I spend in Thailand, but the Malaysians definitely did a good job fattening me up a bit! The Teh Tarki was a nice warm Indian tea that was so sweet and always hit the spot. We would indulge in Chinese buns filled with anything from BBQ Pork to a Sweet Kaya cream. The Malays sure like their spices and most of the dishes were a vibrant color red. Throughout the years many countries have tried to take over Malaysia. The influences of these groups have left colorful cultures, delicious cuisines, and inspiring arts.

I have so many stories to tell of Malaysia, I'm not quite sure where to start?!…

The Perhentian islands easily ranked on the top of my list. You could swim 100 feet out and still see the bottom of the ocean through the crystal clear waters. The snorkeling was so bright, with every spectrum of the rainbow on display in the underwater utopias. My favorite were the Rainbow Sherbert fish swimming around. Their real names were called Parot Fish (google it!) They were so colorful and plump. They would eat alge off the rocks and it was so funny to hear their scraping mouths eating a nice fresh dinner. Little Nemo fish were abundant. They would guard their sea anemones that would flow free of disturbances. After following a cute little Angel fish around observing it for a couple minutes, I noticed the group that I was snorkeling with (consisting of my best friend James, and 2 sweet Brits we'd be traveling with) huddled up motioning for me to get over there quickly! We were being circled by 4 Black tip sharks! As I was struggling to fight my way into the center of the crowd (so I wouldn't be the first to get eaten) I realized that the sharks really didn't care about us being there. They just came up, checked us out, and proceeded on their way. But MAN!… was my heart racing! It was such a cool thing to see. You tend to feel so free floating along monitoring the world under the sea, but when all the sudden your heartbeat starts doing overtime, you tend to feel a little helpless. Needless to say I made it back the coast pretty quickly. Mainly because I wanted to discuss what had just happened with the others, my legs were getting tired from kicking, and I had enough of the sun beaming down on my backside. Did I mention how AMAZING the coral reefs were?! Mind-blowing! Snorkeling around the island was easily one of my favorite past times.

Then there was the giant Lizard in my bed! This was by far the most horrifying thing to happen to me so far. The Monitor Lizards on the Perhentian islands were HUGE. I'm talking like the size of a Kimodo Dragon. One day, a 3 ft baby found it's way through the mosquito net so thoughtfully tucked under the mattress, and perched itself like a little princess on top of my white, silk sleeping bag. The manager of the bungalows chased it out with a big stick, claiming it was a small gecko. "Baby" he kept calling it. If that was a baby I surely didn't want to see his parents!…Needless to say I turned into quite the headcase that night. Every little sound i heard I was convinced it was the lizard trying to get back in for some revenge. I was seriously loosing my mind!…I couldn't sleep, I was just replaying the image of it's scaly, slimy skin on my bed (even though we got fresh sheets) it's slippery tounge slithering in and out of it's mouth, it's strong, powerful tail flipping around. I was going insane!…I contemplated sleeping in the sand on the beach, but as peaceful as that would be with the moonlight and the sound of waves, I just couldn't shake that lizard out of my imagination. I thought it would come to get me out there. There are thousands on that island. One of them was going to get me… Yeah. I gained back my sanity at some point, and passed out of pure exhaustion. Fighting to stay awake just got too hard. So I woke up the next morning (lizard-free) packed my bag and headed to D'Lagoon, a private beach where Monitor Lizards couldn't get into my bed! I was a little bummed I didn't go to D'Lagoon sooner because this was a nice little hidden paradise! I'd spend my mornings playing with a baby monkey, my afternoons, reading in a hammock under a nice shady palm tree, and my evenings either playing cards with crazy old locals, or join the Malay boys in a competitive game of volleyball. I knew I shouldn't have picked up a game with them- I torn my rotator cuff in my left shoulder while getting too extreme with the jumps snowboarding this past winter, and haven't splurged on surgery to fix it yet. So I knew I would complain about it hurting for weeks after the game, but just couldn't refuse. They were all impressed with my play.

The Perhentian Islands had no roads, so you had to hike through jungles to get anywhere. There were no ATMS, so if you ran out of Ringott, you would just have to borrow from a fellow backpacker until cash became accessible off the island. The sunsets were amazing, the mornings were serene, and the atmosphere was calming. I LOVED this place, but was happy to adventure to our next destination.

While in Kuala Terranganu- The world cup was at its finest! Malays and backpackers would flock to the night markets to watch the 'football' matches on the super big screen. Hundreds of people would swarm around ordering food and drinks, engaging in conversations with friends, getting wild when someone scored a goal, and just laughing and carrying on. I will always relate soccer with this wonderfully ancient fishing town that struck it rich in oil.

There were so many other fun places! Caves in Ipoh, Tea Plantations in Cameron Highlands, (see last blog) gastronomic excellencies in Melaka, trekking high up in the jungle on canopy walks in 130 Million year old rainforest in Taman Negara, and the futuristic architecture of Kuala Lumpur…Malaysia was easily one of the most enjoyable places to travel if you like to eat and chat with locals that are just as curious about you, as you are of them.

While I was in Kuala Lumpur, I realized I only had 10 days left before I had to catch a flight back to Bangkok. On a whim, I booked a train ticket to Singapore to spend a few days there, then head into Indonesia! I have been really wanting to visit Bali, Sumatra, Java, and Ubud, but with such a short time and 17,000 Islands to visit, I thought I might leave that for another adventure. Plus I've heard from fellow backpackers that Pirates are pretty common if I was to take a boat to the country- I know I would be the first person to get snatched up and held for ransom… So I think I made a wise decision?!…

But Singapore was unreal! So architecturally advanced. Super modern. Super clean. Chewing gum is illegal, and they WILL fine you for it! The government holds a strong hand over this wealthy country. Any food you desire is available, any shopping you want to do can be done at any of the thousands of retail malls, and the art scene is BOOMING! I visited many galleries and enjoyed an all night art festival that Singapore Management University put on. THere was everything from Bizarre Dance interpretations, to grafiti artists, to a Burmese Circus! This night, in my opinion, was SPECTACULAR!!! I love the fine arts! Photography, Sculptures, Music…anything that freely expresses creativity! LOVED IT. (I have so much awe-inspiring video footage from that night, so at the rate I've been producing films…Expect it in like 3 months?…hehe) It was so easy to get lost in the mad swirl of skyscrapers. This place was first-class affluent, and extremely high-tech. Everything about this city seemed so tailored and after living in 2nd & 3rd world countries- I totally welcomed that! Squat toilets were hard to come by in this modern land. The only thing I didn't like (besides how expensive it was) was the incident where I almost got fined $500 for carrying an empty McDonalds cup in the Subway system!…I'm glad I talked my way outta that one!…but that Jasmine Green tea, which is common for McD's restaurants out here, sure was worth it!

And alas, I am back in Thailand. I feel so comfortable here. My heart belongs here. I have fallen in love with the people, the culture, the style, and the simple way of life, much more than any destination so far. It's my 3rd time here, and I don't feel like a Farang anymore. I know the ins and outs of these familiar cities. I feel so relaxed when I'm here. Bangkok is cluttered and chaotic, but I can appreciate this place so much more after leaving it…I just can't stay here too long- The pollution, corruption, and the ping pong shows really rub me the wrong way. Tomorrow I start Island hopping again, which proves to be my favorite hobby. I love the laid back approach to everything, the fresh breeze gracing my face, the wind in my hair while riding motorbikes around the islands, and the hunt for Sticky Rice with Fresh Mangos, Sweet Coconut Soup, and the cheapest most delectable Pad Thai this country has to offer. On the downside, since I'm so close to the equator, a day in the sun ages me a month- I've convinced myself- but it is well worth it! I just need to buy some breathable clothes to cover my body and invest in some overpriced sunscreen….Ah the life of a traveler. What did I do to deserve this wonderful lifestyle?…Oh yeah, drop everything and just GO! 

I woke up in the middle of the night to a scratching noise scraping across the tin roof of our bungalow. I was terrified immediately, unsure what it was but having seen the huge five foot lizards on the island. I didn't like it being so close, even with the separation of metal between us, and sat staring into pitch black darkness hoping that the lizard or snake or rat wouldn't find it's way into the room.

When I first woke, the noise was at the far end of the room. I heard the tapping-then-scraping claws along the metal as it slide forward a step then stopped; then moved again five seconds later, the movement prolonging the second, then stopped, only to move again…the pattern was fairly consistent, though off beat, making it even more terrorizing. The noise was making its way closer and closer, and I was certain I would be face to face with a Monitor Lizard within minutes, me trapped within my mosquito net while it charged at me from out of the darkness.

The noise eventually stopped and I fell back to sleep.

In the morning, what remained of my chocolate cream Oreo's from the night before were gone. Whatever had been sliding across our rooftop was actually in our room, sliding across the shelf that ran the length of my bed. It was within inches of me, but in the morning heat the thought of it was more curious than terrifying.

The sun is pretty intense on the Perhentian Islands. We stayed on the smaller of the two, having been told that the larger island has the more expensive resorts. Fifty Ringgit seems a little steep for the standard of room we received, but the island is among the most beautiful I have ever seen. It's primitive, with no roads on the island and only a path (that often is no more than a small clearing of brush) winding through the dense forest from one beach to another. I ate breakfast, which was wonderful but more pricy than the three or four Ringgit meals we sought out on the mainland, then walked into the South China Sea, literally. The water is crystal clear, and as you walk out twenty feet, the water reaching your hips, you see the soft sandy floor under your feet. Keep walking…thirty feet…forty feet…you eventually have to swim, but even then when the water is at least 15 feet deep, you see the sea floor clearly, with a colorful coral garden beneath as hundreds of fish swim around you and often to you in curiosity.

I cam out of the water and bathed in the run, then decided to take a nap. It was mid-afternoon; I figured an hour out of the sun and then I might go swim again, maybe snorkel this time in hopes of seeing some sharks or turtles. The scraping noise came again…

I jumped to a sitting position immediately and started looking around as quickly as I could, ready to fight off whatever was in our bungalow. Having daylight to assist me this time, I saw it across the room, inside the mosquito net of the other bed, propped up on a pillow, it's head tilted in my direction, it's tongue slithering in and out of it's closed mouth. A three foot lizard stood staring at me, both of us motionless. I imagine that the expression on my face was the polar opposite of the expressionless face it bore, and it didn't even occur to me that it was scared of me. That's something you talk about when you talk about things that can harm you. Sharks, snakes, spiders - they're more scared of you than you are of them. Well, try to remember that when you have a dinosaur in your bed!

I had no idea what to do. I sat for a moment, contemplating how I would get out without being attacked, knowing I needed to make the first move rather than having to react to it lunging at me. Yup, I thought about being the attacker and throwing the first punch. Way to aggravate a situation James! The alternative was an image of me running and hopping around the room like a dancing leprechaun, jumping between beds, hoping on one foot with the other raised as high as my face, arms flailing as  it chased me around a small bungalow, knowing I would find the door eventually and go scurrying across the sand and into the water as far as I could swim, only to realize I was now surrounded by sharks. Options...

I got out from under the mosquito net and charged at it, knowing I had another net between us as protection. The giant lizard leaped back, flying into the wall behind it in a loud thud, and disappeared behind the bed. That thus was loud! which meant that this freaking' thing is pure muscle, and a heavy scaly mass of muscle at that. I wasn't going to wait around to see how this dual would end. I was going to run for it.

I went to tell the people who ran the bungalow, and they kept asking "gecko?" Don't you guys see my face? Don't you see how excited I am about the monster that I witnessed on my bed? No, NOT a gecko! This little stain on my shorts was not a result of n insurance company mascot. This was T-Rex's second cousin twice removed coming bcd from extinction to eat us all! I wanted to assure them. This is a bloody monster! Now would you please go and risk your life to get it out while I stand safely in the distance, close enough to watch with all the other tourists?

One of the guys grabs a huge stick with a metal piece attached to the end (no idea what it's really used for but it could cause some serious damage) and leads the way back to our bungalow. At this point, four or five other groups from neighboring bungalows are watching. I unlock the door (a tiny padlock that you could break by looking at it the wrong way) and scan the room for the beast as I step back to make room for the dinosaur hunter. There it is, about two feet in front of us, trapped inside the mosquito net. It thrashed violently, trying to escape. It was panicking, which is not a good thing, because no one is going to act rationally when cornered. I don't know the extent of a lizards rationality in a normal situation, but I wasn't going to be in the way of it's inch long razor sharp claws in this situation. In an instant the lizard finds it's way out from under the net; I jump back screaming (manly profanities to show I'm not really scared) and once my eyes gain focus again, I see the lizard about five feet up a coconut tree outside of out bungalow. The man starts slapping the trunk with his stick, moving around the tree to follow the lizard who simply doesn't want to get a beat down. He makes contact with the lizard at last, who drops onto our neighbors bungalow roof in a loud, hollow thud, slides down and slams to the floor and bolts. Someone said they saw it running into the forest, most likely to tell it's parents what we had done to it. I was certain I was going to see my Oreo's again tonight on the inside of some giant lizard.

What? Only a baby? Yes, this ginormous lizard was only a baby, the giggling bungalow manager kept assuring us as if it would make us feel better about the situation. He didn't realize that all it meant was that larger ones existed, but we already knew that. We had seen them blocking the path to one of the bathrooms the day before.

The islands of Malaysia are exciting places. I find Malaysia to be more beautiful than Thailand. It is not as developed for tourism, but the landscape itself can't be beat. Having had a close encounter with a dinosaur, we decided we should go snorkeling in search of sharks, and that's just what we did.

There were four of us, swimming out cautiously at first, then forgetting about the sharks, certain that we were not going to see them. You tend to forget about things when you're out in the ocean looking at an underwater world that's both mysterious and beautiful. So many colors - so much movement. Color in yellow and pink and blue and orange and white create a terrain with as many dimensions as colors. Large shells with what looks like tie-died muscles clamp onto rocks; sea anemones sway beneath the water - you dive down and come close - clone fish start coming out as if to guard their territory, swimming right up to your mask to show you who owns the block. Rainbow colors fish chomp audibly on algea; zebra striped fish start following you around; you turn and there is a long barracuda looking fish with sap teeth staring at you (harmless, I'm sure, but you're in the middle of an unknown world). I swam deeper, hoping to see a shark. I turned, and I saw it, maybe fifteen feet from me, and the moment I spotted it, it turned to face me. My heart skipped a beat.I'll tell that story next...

Smells like Hell - Tastes like Heaven

That's what the man said about durian when he was listing the flavors of ice-cream that were available - chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, durian - that he served in a hamburger bun, with or without chopped roasted peanuts for two ringet. He was dressed in a traditional Arabic  robe and a scull cap, though his accent was distinctively Indian. Beside him at another stand a chinese woman sold fruits - pineapple, mango, apples in a dark sauce (that you could get with a little chilli), and jak fruit. We originally wanted to buy some bananas for the monkeys we encountered at the botanical garden, but after witnessing a man throw large slices of bread at the monkeys, and after picking up a couple slices that the monkeys had left behind, and after Jess stood in the middle of the grass near the Japanese garden trying to feed the monkeys, and only after I saw her running toward the sidewalk screaming, throwing bread over her head as she was being chased by impatient monkeys did we decide to simply feed ourselves.

Jak fruit is so much better than durian. We didn't know that they were different fruit, so we kept saying "I don't like the mushy one. I like the one that's more chewy and sweet like bubble gum." Thats been our best explanation of jak fruit. As we sat on a planter eating our ice-cream burgers (not really sure what else to call them) we spoke to a local man whose features were more distinctly Malay, which to me meant that his features were not distinctly chinese or indian or arab. He looked like the product of two generations of all three of them in a delicate mix he spoke English perfectly, but was able to converse with us (if we had the ability) in Chinese, Arabic, or Malay.

It was only the night before that we sat in a courtyard of a Chinese Clan temple watching a Chinese Opera being performed. Men and women in intense makeup and colorful dress came and went, singing in between proclamations that we didn't understand. All we knew was that this one particular long red fabric was pretty important, so much so that people were crying and fighting over it. As bats swooped over our heads and as this Chinese fairytale unfolded, the "Call to Prayer" sounded in the distance over the city in Arabic, announcing the last of the five Muslim daily prayers. The chicken mussalla that we had an hour or so ago had not affected me the way I feared, which is one of those simple things in life that you learn to appreciate when one of the most important things you pack in your bag as you leave the guesthouse is your own roll of toilet paper.

Georgtown, an old port city located on the north eastern part of the island, still has the diversity you would expect when merchants and traders gather in commerce; a harmonious existence of dependance and respect that makes livelihoods across seas possible. If you were able to freeze time and focus your eyes to one small section, you wouldn't know if you were in China, India, Arabia (I'm using broad strokes, I know)…a trained eye might be able to relive the smells, sights, sounds, and possibly the feel of a specific city in some far away land. Bring the world back to life and in the motion you see all these cultures passing you by in the stream of life that seems to be Malaysia. Never before have I witnessed such a melting. Although I am writing with memories of Penang, it seems to me right now that Malaysia is what America was is dubbed; but Malaysia is more the melting pot and less the salad bowl that is America.

I sat at a table while an old Chinese man cut chicken with a hatchet as if it were a scalpel, placing it on a plate of soy sauce and what I think was plum sauce, then adding a little oil to it. A women about the same age as he brought it over with another plate of rice. A younger man, about my age, brought be a small bowl of very plain soup. The rice was warm, the chicken cold, the soup steaming. I found that if I placed a little chick on my plate of rice and then poured a small amount of soup over it, the chicken heated up into a tender and moist delicacy. The man smiled often, saying random things to what I assumed was his family as they went to different tables serving food, hollering things back and forth in Chinese. Some people would come to the cart where all the food was served from and he would switch to what I figured as Malay quickly, then to English for some. I could be certain, but I think he said a few words in Arabic and possibly Urdu as well to come passersby when appropriate. The same smile, and the same sincerity or trained smile was bestowed on all. It didn't matter what the smile meant; it was universal, and the same level of respect was offered to all, even if was for the purpose of running a little business. This was not an isolated incident. The jolly people as well as those who seemed a little more serious than most were that way to everyone as I observed them. People were themselves, looking past color and race and origin, and looking into the belly of life.

Sure, there were "clan" houses scattered around the city - Chinese families who had come to Georgetown and created small mafia's, supporting newcomers in finding work and food and shelter, possibly for some kind of future cut in wages - and sure these clan houses were elitist in that they most likely had disputes with other clan houses and other races once upon a time if not still. But I would venture to say that the discrimination was not one of race, but perceived necessity and survival. I feel at home in Malaysia, even when so much feels unfamiliar, because I'm just another alien who could fit right in, should I choose to, and more so, should I find out how to survive here without being a burden on others.

I won't start writing out the wondering of my mind in full, but as I walked down the street I started to imagine a world where no borders existed, where people were burdened by their own ability to survive, where begging and stealing were equally vile, but where all people treated one another just the same, with their own moral compass as their guide. In some ways it's a scary place, but it also feels like utopia, and in a way, so does Malaysia.

Cameron Highlands

While wondering around one day in the Cameron Highlands, nestled in between sweeping valleys and mountains 5,000 feet above sea level, we came across a tour agency that had pretty moderate priced tours. Of of the most popular tourist attractions in the area is the tea plantations and the strawberry farms. So we paid our $7.35 and booked an adventure for the next day.

When the bus picked us up that next morning bright and early we first set out for the Rose Garden which was overflowing with every type of flower you could image. Next we visited the Tea Plantation and Factory to watch the production of tea from the time it is picked, to the end product as it goes through the shredding machines, driers, rollers, and giant sieves. We topped that off with a nice warm cup of fresh tea  in a chic tea den overlooking the rolling hills and green terraces of the plantation. After the tea garden we stopped off at a less than exciting Bee Farm…There were bees alright, but they were huddled up around their hives inside wooden boxes and we saw more giant Bee figurines hovering above the paths, then actual honeybees. We then meandered to the 'Market Square' where we proceeded to buy 4 Passionfruit for $1!!! How crazy is that? Back in the US, 4 Passion fruits would have cost us about $15. We indulged in every bite! After the market we (and the other tourist on the van) decided to skip over the Butterfly Farm, and go straight to the Strawberry Farm. While thrilled about the idea of skipping through the fields, singing 'Strawberry Fields Forever,' by the Beatles, and picking our own plump strawberries, it was a blatant reality that we simply got to look at a couple rows of strawberries, and overpay for strawberry products….Kinda feeling bummed about the whole strawberry excursion, we were then dropped off at the Sam Poh Kong Buddhist Temple at Brinchang. We have seen so many temples throughout the duration of our travels, they all have started looking the same. But something about this experience was different. This place was buzzing with Chinese people of all ages. It seemed that something special was taking place this day?!…We wandered to the very back of the temple with some fellow tourists, and were pleasantly surprised to be offered a feast! FOR FREE!!! A jolly buddhist man and some of his friends sitting at a nearby table kept bringing us food. All vegetarian of course. They pilled our bowls with rice, handed us all chopsticks and spoons, and kept bringing the most interesting dishes over to our table claiming that, "If you don't eat- it go to waste- So eat up!" And indeed we did. Kate, James and me, along with a couple from Nottingham, and a couple from Ireland, ate ourselves silly… Well actually they didn't eat as much as I did, they were actually there waiting for me to finish…but I just couldn't get enough of this delicious vegetable curry dish!! I have only recently acquired a fondness for spicy dishes. Before Malaysia, I wouldn't have even bothered claiming that it sets my mouth and lips on fire, but NOW… I can handle the hottest dish from any Indian food restaurant, and am also getting very good at eating only with my right hand, which is the custom because the left hand is used to take care of business in the bathroom apparently.

So today was a really good day! A couple disappointments along the tour, but the feast at the Temple totally made up for it. The kindness and hospitality made my heart feel so warm. I loved it!…Oh, I forgot to mention! After we finished our meal, and since we were one of the last people to finish eating, we formed an assembly line to wash our of dishes- That made the experience even more authentic. I still wonder why that one day was so special…we didn't quite understand the importance and why we were allowed to feast on free food due to a slight language barrier, but regardless it was UNFORGETTABLE!

Now, I'm sitting on a cold bus slithering it's way around curvy, hilly mountains, on my way back to Ipoh to catch a bus to Kota Bharu. I'm jamming to Beethoven's Complete Piano Sonatas, because I believe it inspires creative writing, but as I glimpse past Kate passed out, curled up in the fetal position, I view the panorama of peaks so cloudy it looks like a white blanket is laid over the land, and I decided that is is time for a music change…so naturally I scroll to Led Zeppelin on my iPod and blare some 'Misty Mountain Tops.' … PERFECT! … I only wonder what is going on in James' head behind me?….Probably something inquisitive like the aerodynamics of this bulky be we're on?…I think I'll ask- Stay posted! 

Leaving Thailand was bittersweet. I was so looking forward to exploring the wonders of Malaysia, but I have developed quite the passion for Thailand, and always seem to have a hard time leaving. I have come to the executive decision, however,  that I will someday (in the near future) make Thailand my home, so I shouldn't be as bummed to leave their wonderful country. I love the Thai people, I love their way of life, I love the food, I love the art, I love the simplicity, I love their religion, I love their land, and I am so in love with their way!….

But alas! Now I am in Malaysia, and am quickly discovering that there is more than enough to fall in love with here as well!…A quick van ride, visa check, passport stamp, and I have now upgraded from a third world country to a second world country…and man! What a difference. I immediately noticed all the nice cars instead of puttering motorbikes, the signs in English rather than Thai script, and the towering buildings rather than the bamboo huts.

Once getting settled in a cozy guesthouse, we set out to explore the land around us. At first, I was very confused about Malaysia. There were so many different types of people, so many religions, influences, and languages. It took me awhile to appreciate how peacefully the Malays, Chinese, British, Indians and so many other ethnicities co-exist. There are Mosques, Temples, Churches, and every other place of worship you could imagine. Chinese Buddhism is the main religion here in Penang, Malaysia, but the official religion is Islam.

Walking down the street you will see a Hindu woman in full headdress, conservatively dressed with her entire body covered. Looking across the street you will witness a little tiny chinese lady with bound feet, bringing ginger tea to some tourist who needed a drink break. It's really quite warming to see such a diverse crowd all living in such close quarters. Everyone speaks English well so it's really easy to converse with the locals to get information about cool things to see, the best places to eat, or inquire about the history of any given place.

Malaysia is truly a food paradise! The cuisine is by far the best in the world, and you can get any type of food you desire! The best hamburgers made by plump Pakistanis, the spiciest curry dishes in Little India, the best spirited broth with all kinds of noodles and oddities prepared by a mini Chinese man sweating over a steaming hot noodle cart. And better than the food itself is the price! I will get the best, most filling bowl of dumpling soup for less than a US dollar. I can get a big sweet, iced, 'white coffee' in a side alley for about $0.30.  Translating money from Malay Ringgit to Thai Baht to US Dollar is the only way I can make sense of how much I am actually spending, but I came to find that I  really enjoy making the conversions because any price come out to be cheap!… and I am still astonished that I can buy a nice pair of leather shoes for $4.

When we tell people we are from America, they wonder where, so we tell them from Washington, DC and everyone seems to understand the power of such a place. They quickly equate it with Obama, and give him a smiling thumbs up. Sometimes we talk about the worldly relations, and they like America much more than the Bush era. They like to laugh about how ignorant he was. We all laugh together then carry on our merry way.

After only 4 months of traveling I already feel myself becoming a citizen of the world. I can quickly adapt to any environment, carry on a conversation with someone who doesn't speak a word of English, I am much more understanding of people, and have most importantly learned to observe the world around me with an unbiased opinion. I have come to realize that I appreciate the difference in people and see how easy it is to learn from one another if willing. Everyday I feel myself understanding the world around me to a higher quality, understanding that the differences in people is what makes us so beautiful, and understanding that I will always be a student of the world and will continue to learn lessons from the people, the resources, and the world around me.

I arrived in Malaysia yesterday. A destination is as much the sum of all the legs of the journey as it is a city or town, so before I talk about the bunk bed I'm sleeping in or the bathroom down the hall that I share...

I was in Hatyai, the largest of the cities of Southern Thailand. There is a lot of Chinese influence here, and a lot of Muslim influence, with people weaving in and out through the fabric of the city as if they are just different threads in the same pattern.

The guesthouse I stayed in was cheap - 160Baht a night for a single, with your own bathroom that leaves you wondering what kinds of things you can catch on your feet that might be difficult to get rid of. I think there were bedbugs in the mattress, but who knows; something about the mold and dust make me itchy anyway. And yet, it was, in it's own way, wonderful.

The train station was only two blocks away, and day and night markets surrounded it, leading to a modern mall with KFC and McDonald's an Sizzler, movie theaters and karaoke game rooms....I decided to try two things, so I enjoyed (yup, actually enjoyed) a couple silk worms and bamboo worms (that's what they called them) that had been sprayed with salt water at the market. I may try the scorpions some day, but not quite yet. Think protein filled crunchy salted snacks....

I also decided to try the Double Big Mac. I couldn't get through half it! I did find a hair in my fries, which is not surprising for Thailand but was for McD's. And when I was done, with a pile of fries left and less than half of the sandwich on my tray, I felt "the attack." The kind of attack you only truly understand when having been out here. So much for having to watch out for street vendor food. Watch out for McD's too...

I left Hatyai and am now sitting on the top of a bunk bed in Penang, Malaysia. Entering Malaysia was a fun experience. You can take an AC van from Hatyai for 350Baht; it takes you to the Thai border where you get out and get in line to receive your exit stamp; then you drive 500 meters and get out again to go through immigration in Malaysia. Nothing fancy, but when you're in a van for several hours, these little stops are fun, and somewhat exciting since you always wonder if you're going to make it through. Sure, pretty much everyone makes it through, but there is always that chance that you did something wrong without knowing it and end up living your life between borders...I think I would learn how to juggle.

The moment you cross into Malaysia, things look different. Billboards in English - street signs with Latin (English?) characters - police spelled Polis and taxi spelled Takesi on the side of vehicles. It was raining, a thick cloud hugging the foot of a mountain in the distance, the landscape covered in trees; steam and lush green of a rainforest battling the freeway for dominance over the land. Rice fields, sheep, muddy roads and wooden shacks...and then, entire California-style communities with stucco walls and clay roofing emerging out of the jungle.

Penang is nothing like most of Thailand, and certainly not anything like a Thai island. As we crossed the bridge here, we say skyscrapers along the shoreline as if creating a wall around the island. Once you enter, you feel like you're inside a normal city; speeding cars, streets lined with mechanic shops and fabric shops, street carts, large trucks both new and old. The people "look" very Chinese, or very Indian, or very "local." Chinese store signs, mosques, and malls.

The food is amazing already, and all I had was a somewhat Indian burger made by a street vendor of little words. I sat on a chair near a dumpster behind him, and he smiled when I gave him a thumbs up as hamburger juice streamed down my fingers. For 4.5RM, it's about $1.50 for a really good eat.

Malaysia is modern in so many ways that Thailand is not, and yet, it has a similar spirit. At least from the window of an AC van. I have just gotten here, and am sure I will understand the flavor more over this next month. I'm looking forward to recognizing the spice that is Malaysia by the time I leave.