Combined Feb/March budget and some thoughts on homeschooling

Hello, everyone, it’s Deena again with the budget numbers.  We had a great month in February, but sadly I was too lazy to post; so I am combining both months.  February was our best month yet coming in at $90 per day.  That was most of the time we spent in Vietnam with some hotels in the $12-$19 per night rate.  We ate out almost every meal since it was cheaper than cooking.  The food is fantastic in Vietnam and Thailand, but it backfired on us in the month of March.  March was a bit higher at $113 per day.  We spent some time in Cambodia in March, and by this time we were sick of rice and noodles everyday, so we started eating Western food, which of course costs more and doesn’t taste as good.  We had an expensive day in Angkor Wat, but we wouldn't trade that day for anything—because it was amazing.  We finished up March back in Thailand, and we are back to eating the Thai food which we love.  We have about 10 days more in our beloved Southeast Asia; then we move on to Australia and New Zealand.  It will be a challenge to keep costs down.

We fly from Bangkok to Brisbane, Australia on April 11.  This is one of the sweet spots in the United Airlines chart, only 17,500 miles required per person for a free flight.  So we are off to Australia for 70,000 miles for a family of four, FREE.

When the plans for this trip were in its infancy, we knew we would have to homeschool the kids, but I chose to ignore that for a while as it was just too intimidating at the time.  Eventually I had to sit down and look at the particulars, and boy was it overwhelming!  There are tons of curriculums and various ways to homeschool; and the possibilities are endless.  We knew we needed something on computers as we were not going to haul around textbooks, but the question was do we use a web-based curriculum or a software-based curriculum?  We had no idea what kind of internet would be available around the world and no amount of research could give us total confidence before we left home.  We finally landed on a FREE curriculum I found online called Easy Peasy.  It was started by a lady that homeschooled all her children while overseas and began putting her curriculum online so others could use it.  It has grown and become more popular and includes high school.  The more I researched homeschooling, the more confidence I gained, and we were able to supplement some classes and cherry pick from whatever courses we liked online.  I have come a long way from terrified “how am I going to homeschool high school?” To  “this isn’t so bad after all.”  The kids have been accepted back into their high school at home, and I am confident they will do just fine when they go back to their regular classes.  Joseph will return with some college credit up his sleeve, yet another benefit of homeschooling high school.

Both kids started their curriculum the summer before we left, so they had a good understanding of how the classes worked and got accustomed to the laptops.  Once we were on the trip, we had flexibility to work daily as they needed.  Some days we did lots of school and some days we went on field trips.  My favorite part of homeschooling is the ability to research a historic event and then visit the area where it took place the next day.  For instance, we watched Bridge of Spies and then went to see that bridge the next morning.  We watched several documentaries about D Day, then went to the beach where the landing occurred.  We had another fascinating day after watching the documentary, Last Days in Saigon when we walked the streets of Saigon with a Vietnamese teenager who explained everything we had seen the night before.   I wish I had been able to do school like this!!!!

This has been an amazing learning experience not just for the kids but for us as well.  See you next month!

Malaysia - Kuala Lumpur

Upon arrival at the airport in Kuala Lumpur, I sought the closest ATM to load up on local currency as is my custom when entering a new country.  I inserted my card, selected English, and retrieved about seventy dollars in Malaysia ringgits, which I figured would get us to our apartment, fund dinner, and maybe take care of breakfast the next morning before finding another ATM.  Two days later, I still had over half the money in my pocket, and I tried my best to find places to spend it on necessities just to avoid the dreaded airport exchange ripoff on the way back to Thailand.  We discovered that goods and services in Malaysia are insanely cheap to the point of being almost free in some cases, and our one-day sojourn in Kuala Lumpur turned out to be a fun and inexpensive whirlwind with a great view.

The country of Malaysia occupies the tip of the Thai peninsula and the northern region of the island of Borneo separated by the South China Sea and flanked by the Malacca Strait through which forty percent of the world’s trade passes.  Like Indonesia, Malaysia is another country that I knew existed somewhere in the world in the middle of the ocean with jungles and stuff, but I had no point of reference in my North Carolina perspective.  The government is a constitutional monarchy, and the national religion is Islam, but the government mandates freedom of religion for all citizens.  We left the Middle East at the first of January, and it had been a long time since we had seen women draped in black fabric, completely covered except for their eyes, and it was a strange sight in a southeastern Asian country.  Half the population of Malaysia is ethnic Malay, and other large groups include citizens of Chinese and Indian origin with a few aboriginal tribes in the mix.  There are many languages spoken in the country, and fortunately for us, English is prominent just about everywhere.

We left Bali early in the morning in the pouring rain and flew back to Singapore where everything is magical including the airport where we hunkered down for a three-hour layover.  This was no big deal to my intrepid crew, and we all agreed that if we lived in Singapore, we would occasionally buy a cheap airline ticket just for the privilege of hanging out at the best airport in the world.  The flight to Kuala Lumpur was less than an hour long, and we made it through immigration smoothly and quickly summoned an Uber driver right outside the arrival doors.  Our driver was a great guy and an AirAsia employee so we got to good naturedly vent about their strict baggage policy during the sixty-kilometer drive to the city center.  Even though we were on major highways, the surrounding jungle was some of the thickest I’ve seen in southeast Asia with dense groves of deep green palm trees.  

As we entered the urban zone of Kuala Lumpur, the capital city reminded me a lot of large American cities:  sleek steel and smoked glass skyscrapers in the middle fanning out to small businesses and shopping centers that made the metropolis look a little rough around the edges.  The highlights of the Kuala Lumpur skyline are the imposing Petronas Twin Towers, and we had a bird’s eye view of these modern beauties from our fifteenth-floor balcony.  Our host Sam, a native of Chinese heritage, was exceptionally considerate as he showed us around our apartment. When he found out we hadn’t eaten yet, he took us across the avenue to a small streetside restaurant and treated us to a huge welcome dinner full of traditional Malaysian favorites.  Another long travel day was officially in the books, and we spent the rest of the evening relaxing in the apartment looking out at the view of the city.

Since we only had one day to spend in Kuala Lumpur, we decided to hang around the apartment until the early afternoon and then take an Uber ride into the downtown area and spend the evening enjoying the city.  If not for the massive thunderstorms that moved through the area, this would have been an excellent strategy.  We enjoyed a huge breakfast of egg prata and coffee that cost roughly two dollars and fifty cents, and we bought two bags of supplies at the nearby convenience store that barely cost five dollars.  In order to meet the preposterous AirAsia baggage restrictions, we had to ditch several weighty items including our beloved hair clippers; so I visited the salon on the ground floor of our building and treated myself to a three-dollar buzzcut.  The kids continued with their testing for most of the morning, and after a cheap lunch of cheese nanna, we readied ourselves for the trip downtown.  Then the city disappeared.  

Huge thunderheads rolled in over the mountains and covered the skyscrapers as they brought drenching rain and heavy lightning which left the air smelling like ozone.  All we could do was sit and wait out the storms, which hung around until well after dark.  It was still raining when we finally secured an Uber ride downtown. The trip, which typically takes about ten minutes, lasted for nearly an hour as the storms had left traffic snarled all over the city.  Our driver dropped us off at the mall entrance at the foot of the Petronas Towers where we made a mad dash to the food court for a meal of hummus and pita bread before the place closed for the evening.  

After dinner, we made our way around to the KLCC park, which is a beautifully designed green space in the midst of the vast urban expanse of Kuala Lumpur.  There are some nice-looking modern buildings in the world, but the only ones I would call beautiful are the Petronas Twin Towers, which are the symbols of the capital city and the nation of Malaysia.  They were designed to mimic forms of Islamic art and their profiles with soft white lighting against an orange stormy sky was a breathtaking sight that was the highlight of our downtown experience that night.  At 10:00, we were treated to an excellent light and water show with huge jets of colorful sprays erupting to the song, We are the World, which Deena and I hadn’t heard in decades.  The kids rolled their eyes as we tried to name all the artists as they sang their parts, and I think we got them all correct.

We made it back to the apartment late, but we had a great time downtown, and we used our leftover energy to figure out a strategy to defeat the AirAsia seven-kilogram-per-bag restriction looming over our flight to Thailand the next day.  We enjoyed one more cheap breakfast at the restaurant across the street the next morning before loading up and heading back out to the airport.  Even though we didn’t get to explore the city as much as we would have liked, we were still glad we were were able to visit another major world capital and add another country to our ambitious itinerary.  The people we met were welcoming and friendly, and we’ll remember the energy of the city as we anticipate our return to the laid-back beauty of the Kingdom of Thailand.

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Bali - Good Karma

Circumnavigating the globe has afforded many benefits to my little family and has allowed me to further my quest for the world’s best cup of coffee which continued in Bali.  After perusing the shelves and colorful chalkboard menus at Starbucks and other purveyors of fine coffee in America, one would think that traveling to the source countries of some of the exotic grounds brewed and sold would result in an always available, bottomless cup of rich brew, but that’s just not the case.  I’ve discovered that most people in the world drink some form of instant coffee, usually produced by Nescafe and sold as a “3 in 1,” which is an individual packet of instant coffee, creamer, and sugar and a sad substitute for a cup of real coffee.  Indonesia produces some of the world’s finest beans, but they are reserved primarily for export while citizens and budget-conscious tourists suffer deprivation at the hands of Nescafe and the resorts who sell the good stuff for ten dollars a cup.  At least now I can say that traveling to Bali produced an opportunity for me to consume a cup of joe brewed from the grounds of beans that spent some time undergoing complicated chemical reactions in the digestive tract of a cute, furry mammal.

The island of Bali is 150 kilometers long and 100 kilometers wide so one might believe that touring a large portion of the land is possible within a small timespan.  We were under this impression until an ambitious touring plan proved otherwise during a day of discovery and frustration.  Our host sent a couple of guys over to the house to fix a small electrical problem, and since one of them spoke English well, we enjoyed talking with him.  His name was Kung, he and his wife own a small homestay in our village, and he provides transport for tourists as a side business.  One thing led to another, and we hired him to take us north for a day in order to spend time in the central region of the island, which is famous for thick jungles and terraced rice paddies.  We put together a wishlist of places to visit ending with a trip to one of the exotic beaches on the east side of the island not far from our village in which we planned to enjoy an early supper before heading home.

Kung picked us up at 9:00 the following morning, and we began making our way north toward the Ubud region of Bali which on the map didn’t look all that far away. We seemed to make good time bobbing our heads back and forth to the excellent variety of music on our driver’s phone.  We stopped briefly at a batik workshop and watched a group of talented locals produce beautiful scenes on cloth using a wax resist form of dye application unique to this area of Indonesia.  From the workshop, we continued north toward the Tegenungan waterfall, but by the time we arrived, it was almost lunchtime, and half the day was shot just sitting in the car.  We began to realize that even though the distances between points in Bali are physically short, narrow roads cut through densely populated areas make for agonizingly long drives, and of course, none of the tourist brochures or websites highlight this fact anywhere in their lists of attributes.

Kung dropped us off at the entrance to the waterfall, and we made our way down a slowly descending dirt road lined with small souvenir shops and restaurants.  The area was busy with tourists, but it wasn’t overly crowded, and there was an energetic vibe in the steamy jungle air as we made our way to the steep stairs leading to the river.  Tegenungan is one of the most easily accessible waterfalls in Bali and one of the most impressive with a thundering plume several stories high that creates air thick with mist as it empties into a large pool below.  The dense jungle that surrounds the waterfall makes for striking scene visible only in certain parts of the world, and splashing in the cool, refreshing water of the pool was a nice respite from the morning spent on the road.  The hike back up the stairs was no easy chore; we needed ice cream bars to recover before we piled back in the car to keep heading north.

An hour later, we entered the Ubud region, which is home to many local craftsmen skilled in the art of intricate woodcarving, ceramics, and silversmithing.  We passed scores of shops with rows of crafts on display, and Kung told us that the majority of the goods are exported all over the world with the leftovers scooped up by the tourists.  The standard of living for the locals is higher in the Ubud region due to the money generated by the artisans and farmers who rely heavily on the steady flow of tourists year-round.  The temples and shrines are more plentiful and decorative in this region, and every business and residence displays an ornate spirit house, full of flower offerings and ever-present burning incense.  

We made it to the town center of Ubud in the heart of the terraced rice paddies, where we had an amazing lunch of traditional Balinese dishes including seasoned chicken with noodles, crisp cucumbers, and fresh sliced tomatoes that were juicy and full of flavor.  Our table was by the rail of the open air restaurant overlooking a small valley traversed with rice paddies that looked like a giant green fingerprint.  The valley was dotted with coconut palms, groves of banana trees, and workers in traditional conical straw hats who tended the paddies using sharp curved knives to remove patches of weeds while tourists filed by on narrow paths taking pictures.  After lunch, we walked down one of the trails for some pictures of our own before the oppressive humidity in the valley forced us back up to street level and into Kung’s car with the air conditioner on full blast.  By this time, it was nearly 3:00, and we realized that we weren’t going to make it to the beach that day, but I still wanted to try the local coffee before heading back home.

Kopi Luwak is one of the most expensive types of coffee sold in the world going for about thirty-five dollars a cup in good coffee shops, and with only about a thousand pounds being produced every year, one pound sells for as high as six-hundred dollars.  So what makes this coffee so special?  Here’s the poop:  looking like a cross between a foxes and a lemurs, civet cats, or luwaks, as they’re called in Indonesia, eat the ripest coffee cherries which they crave as the main staple of their diet. They then defecate the seeds which we know as coffee beans.  The beans go through a rigorous cleaning process in which the hulls are removed by hand; then the beans are roasted dark brown and ground to a fine powder ready for brewing.  The acids in the civet cat’s digestive system create a unique form of fermentation which gives the coffee its exclusive flavor and high price tag due to the distinctive method of processing the beans.  

The Ubud region produces some of the best kopi luwak, and it’s available at some of the small farms along the road with the opportunity to sample a cup at a reasonable price.  Kung took us to a farm not far from the center of town that had a good reputation for humane treatment of the civet cats and excellent coffee.  We were able to see some of these cute little coffee-eatin’ critters, and their lively behavior in the cage was attributed to earlier consumption of a fresh batch of coffee cherries.  The workers there walked us through the entire process from collecting the poop considered to be like gold to the farmer, to the roasting and grinding process which filled the whole place with a smoky, nutty aroma.  

There were several tables inside a covered pavillion deep in the shady jungle foliage where we sat, and I bought a cup of freshly brewed kopi luwak for about five dollars to determine my opinion while the rest of my crew sampled an array of teas and other herb-infused beverages.  So, was the coffee any good?  Smooth? Check.  Rich? Check.  Balanced? Check.  Lingering finish with a compelling taste requiring another sip pronto?  Checka, checka, check.  Yep, this brew was excellent, and I felt like it lived up to all the hype, so why didn’t I buy a couple of expensive pounds to ship home?  It seems that during the fermenting process in the civet’s intestines, a good deal of caffeine is removed, and while that may be a boon to the luwak, it’s a deal breaker for me.  As much as I love the rich, slightly bitter flavor of finely prepared coffee, without that heady, full powered jolt of caffeine, I might as well be drinking hot Kool-aid.  My coffee quest continues, and that’s all I have to say about that.

Civet cat

The process from poo to brew

At 4:00, we were hot, tired and ready to head home. Kung did his best to deliver us in a timely manner, but it still took about three hours to reach the border of our province due to brutal traffic going back in the other direction.  He dropped us off at a pizza place near our house, and we finished our day with a couple of cheese pies with thin, crispy crusts baked in a brick oven.  We shared ice-cold cokes in glass mugs with beads of condensation dripping down the sides and talked about our day as we decompressed from all those hours in the car.

We spent the next day at home in and out of the pool while the kids continued their testing, but we took breaks to walk into the village for meals.  Kung told us that he would be glad to take us to some pretty beaches closer to home for a half day or so, and we contacted him to set it up for the next day.  My love of our house in Bali grew deeper every day: the open-air construction made it feel like we were camping in the tropics; the secluded pool right off the front porch was just so darn nice; and after a week, we almost didn’t notice the bugs, mice, and lizards.  No matter where one sits in southeast Asia, a quick glance in any direction reveals the presence of a basking lizard, every single time.

Kung picked us up at 2:00 the next afternoon and thirty minutes later, we were descending three-hundred concrete block steps through a jungle covered mountainside to aptly named Karma Beach.  Giant boulders of pocked volcanic rock looked like they had been placed perfectly by giants in the golden sand as the clear, tourmaline-colored sea swirled around the edge of the shore.  We bobbed up and down in the warm surf looking back at the jungle in disbelief as we spent a couple hours in this beautiful place.  We got to know Kung a little better as he told us stories about life on Bali with his wife and three-year-old daughter, London, named after the host city of his beloved Arsenal football club.  Kung spared us the arduous walk back up the stairs and had us stroll a kilometer down the seashore to Melasti Beach, where he picked us up and drove on to Padang Padang Beach located on the western side of our peninsula and home to world-class surfing competitions.  

Upon arrival, we had to wait out thousands of white-sarong-clad villagers parading back from the seashore carrying intricately carved Hindu figures on their heads and baskets woven from palm fronds containing thick bunches of marigolds and purple orchids.  According to Kung, they had just finished an all-day festival of food, prayer, and fellowship in preparation for the day of silence observed by all of Bali on Tuesday of next week.  We made our way down to the beach, which was more like an intimate cove with high cliffs all around and a tremendous breaking surf about three-hundred meters from the shore.  We laid out a towel under one of the cliff faces and took turns wading in the warm water and watching Kung catch waves on his surfboard for an hour or so until the light of the day began fading.  

We had hoped to end the afternoon watching the sunset at a nearby cliffside temple, but dark clouds collected quickly and a heavy rain set in as we drove back toward our village.  Kung dropped us off at a restaurant that he highly recommended while he went to check on his homestay guests. We had a delicious dinner of roast pork, tangy macaroni and cheese, and crisp salad dripping with rich olive oil.  When Kung delivered us home through flooded streets, we thanked him for a great afternoon and finished up the day with one more pool session as the rain abated for a while.

Storms moved through Bali overnight, and heavy rain continued through mid morning on our last day at Boulevard 66, and I sat writing for most of it as I looked out at the rivulets of water dripping off the giant elephant ear plants in the courtyard while a cool, refreshing breeze blew in steadily keeping the mosquitoes at bay.  We had planned to travel an hour north to the town of Kuta in order to attend church and walk on one more beach, but the weather kept us home, and I’m not too disappointed since we got to spend more time with each other in this house that we’ll never forget.  After the rain tapered off in the afternoon, Deena and I managed to sneak off on the motor scooter for a date at the coffee shop up the road, and it was a fun and relaxing way to wrap up our time in the village.  We’ve had a lot of adventures on Bali including an earthquake that the locals are calling a "pretty good shake," mouse episodes, motor-scooter learning curves, drive times, and scenery so beautiful it was almost incomprehensible.  We laughed and talked over meals and fun times spent in the pool out front, and while we continue to learn that most places are vastly different from what we read about and expect, the elements of surprise and wonder ensure that the memories we share are uniquely crafted and custom made just for my little family.

Our pool shrine

Bali - Boulevard 66

Dogs generally bark, yelp, or whine, but our canine friends are not expected to "scream."  I woke up early on our second day in Bali, and after I applied the first bug-spray layer of the morning and began coffee prep, I noticed all the dogs in the neighborhood were screaming.  They were joined by the local rooster’s union to produce a banshee chorus that raised the hair on the back of my neck.  Just when I began to seriously wonder about the source of their extreme agitation, I heard a loud rumbling like the approach of a heavy diesel truck—and the world began to shake.  The walls were contorting, the ceiling fixtures were swaying, the water in the pool was choppy, and the floor was unsteady under my feet.  This was the first earthquake that I had ever felt, and it came on so quickly that I just froze in place not knowing how to react.  It ended after about thirty long seconds, and Deena emerged wide-eyed from the bedroom to join me in my astonishment.  Deveny said sleepily that she felt it and then rolled back over, and Joseph never awoke at all during the shaking. I guess it takes more than a 6.5 earthquake to impress our professional snoozers, but it sure got my attention.

We arrived at the airport in Denpasar, Bali, around 7:00 PM night before last, and as our transfer driver, Yayo took us through a labyrinth of dark streets to our house, I felt helplessly lost, a feeling that was amplified by the fact we had no food and hadn’t eaten in six hours.  Yayo kindly stopped at a market on the way, and we grabbed a few necessities like Pringles, eggs, and Coke, and I then knew we would survive through the night.  We finally arrived at Boulevard 66, our home on Bali for the next seven days, and Yayo twisted a key into the padlock which secured the chain on the front, and we walked into one of the most interesting houses in which we’ve dwelt in quite some time.  The main area resembles a large pool cabana with the rear completely open leading to a slate patio with an ornately carved gazebo bed in the center of the floor.  The two main bedrooms are enclosed with strong air conditioners mounted on the walls, and the four wide louvred doors at the front of the house open to a small pool tiled with sandstone and bordered by thick tropical plants against white stucco walls.  

I would like to say that the feelings shared by my crew that first night were joyful based on our cool new digs, but we were tired, the girls were concerned about bugs, I was worried about security, and Joseph was in his usual state of starvation.  We settled in a bit and walked down the road to a row of food vendors and ate a late supper of fried chicken and rice at a wooden table in a small shack with a dirt floor and a persistent pooch begging at my elbow.  The meal was accompanied by a strange soft drink with a flavor that brought horses to mind, but the food was decent and filling, and we all survived the diarrhea test through the night.

Bali Fried Chicken

The light of a new day always brings hope and a brand new perspective, and Deena and I explored the kitchen until we found all the cooking elements needed to prepare our favorite breakfast, eggs-in-a-basket, which we haven’t enjoyed in almost eight weeks.  We opened the louvred doors and enjoyed our meal in the cool morning breeze as the neighborhood came to life with the sounds of puttering motor scooters, roosters, and the locals greeting each other on the corner outside our stucco walls.  The kids settled in to start final testing on some of their subjects, and Deena and I walked around the block to meet our neighbors and check out the surroundings.  The houses and businesses nearby are right on top of each other, and they all have the aged pastel facade common to southeast Asia with once-red-barrel-tile roofs now blackened with mildew.  The streets were paved with concrete at some point in the last century, but they’re about halfway back to a dirt road with no highway crews in sight.  All of this well-seasoned civilization is set into an intense green tropical landscape that makes the whole scene charming to behold.

About midday, after we heard a loud knocking on our gate, two guys from the local motor scooter rental place rolled into our courtyard with two Honda machines .  The beaches and services on Bali are spread out and having a cheap mode of transportation is a necessity, so we chose the motor scooter method.  We got all the business stuff out of the way with the guys, and they showed us how to turn the machines on and work the kickstands, and they were off leaving us to figure out how to ride them.  For three months, we’ve watched little kids, old ladies, and everyone in between ride these scooters, many times carrying ladders, dogs, and even whole families—how hard could it be, right?  Deena started out by gunning her machine into the stucco wall across the street, where it fell over in the weeds on her leg which was burned by the exhaust pipe—the wheels were still spinning because her hand was still in place on the throttle.  We spent an hour practicing in the street much to the neighbors’ delight, and some little kids made themselves comfortable in the shade on the corner and watched our shenanigans with big grins on their faces.

I had some experience on motorcycles many years ago; so I more or less got the hang of riding the scooter after a while, and I set off with my biker babe on the seat behind me to explore our part of the island.  We rode all the way down to Balangan Beach, home of the best surfing on the island, and checked out lounge chair rentals for the next day.  On the way back, we found a promising grocery store and stocked up on supplies to get us through the next couple of days—and then we headed home to feast on peanut butter and jelly sammiches.  We still felt adventurous after lunch and left the kids to their studies while we took off up the mountain behind our village in search of an ATM, which we found in a convenience store that also had chocolate almond ice cream bars.  Flush with cash, groceries, and a modicum of experience on the scooter, we called it an afternoon. Feeling satisfied with our exploration, we spent some time resting on the fluffy pillows in the giant papasan chair at home.  Until Deena feels more comfortable riding a scooter, we’ve decided that I’ll be in charge of delivering everyone to our destinations and back, and we tested our system by motoring to an Italian restaurant where we had our fill of delicious pizza.

Born to be mild

After dark, we spent the majority of the evening in the pool talking and laughing, and we realized that we loved our home at Boulevard 66 with all of its quirks as well as its beautiful setting, and at twenty dollars a night, we felt like we were stealing again.  Deena and I plopped down in the papasan chair for a while and enjoyed the evening breeze and did a little research on New Zealand, which is fast approaching.  After our first big day on Bali, we went to bed and slept soundly and heeded no nightly noises coming from the village and the tropical province beyond.

Bali is one of thousands of volcanic islands that make up the Republic of Indonesia which was established after World War II after centuries of colonial rule by the Dutch, British, Portuguese, and French, all drawn to the region by natural resources and trade routes.  The nation has a population of 260 million, four million of whom were shaking along with us on our second morning during the earthquake.  Living on volcanic islands means that one must put up with earthquakes and tsunamis every now and then, and I wonder how long it takes to get used to it—after our experience yesterday, I don’t think I ever would.  

Maybe the constant threat of natural disasters is one of the reasons there are over twenty-thousand shrines and temples spread out over Bali. The natives practice a form of Hinduism which includes the worship of major and minor gods, Buddhist figures, and ancestors, with a little mysticism and magic sprinkled in as well.  Late in the afternoon of our first day, a local wearing a tie-dye sarong and sporting long hair and a curly gray beard opened our gate and waved hello as he walked to the back of the pool with a wooden box, and I assumed he was the pool man stopping by to check the chemical level in the water.  

The cleaning lady pulled up a few minutes later with her shy and smiling little boy whom she plopped down on the gazebo bed to sit while she set about mopping the floors.  Soon, the smell of incense got stronger, and the pool guy emerged from the bushes, waved goodbye, and placed a small basket made from palm leaves full of marigold and orchid blossoms and smoldering incense on the street in front of our gate.  When the cleaning lady finished, she took her little boy into the bushes behind the pool and emerged with a similar basket, which she also placed in front of our driveway.  Turns out the “pool man”  is a local shaman who I guess the owner keeps on the payroll to bless the house, and the cleaning lady offers a blessing of her own every time she visits. My discovery of a large shrine in the bushes behind the pool gives evidence for these rituals—so we’ve got that going for us.

After the earthquake, it was business as usual, and we had leftover pizza for breakfast, and while the crew made themselves ready for a day at the beach, I took one of the scooters into the village to fill it up with gas.  All through southeast Asia, I’ve noticed small markets with shelves by the street that stocked repurposed, liter-sized Coke bottles full of liquid the color of urine, which I assumed to be some sort of homebrewed tea for sale.  On our way to Angkor in Cambodia, I observed our tuk tuk driver pull over beside one of these markets where the proprietor poured the contents of one of these bottles into the gas tank, and I realized this was the southeast Asian version of the service station where one can fill up the tank and also purchase a live chicken instead of a Snickers bar and a 44 ounce Polar Pop.  I motored up to the local filling station and topped off the tank with a couple liters, which only set me back a dollar or so, and spent the next half hour taking my family to Balangan Beach a few kilometers to the west of our village.

Deena negotiated with a local hustler and scored an umbrella and chairs where we set up camp for the next few hours.  The beach was beautiful with golden sand and ice blue surf, and the high cliff borders on each side created a secluded cove where surfers flocked to catch waves.  The day was cloudy, but we enjoyed our time on the seashore with coconuts washing up in the surf along with an old dugout canoe.  We stayed past lunch, and I shuttled everyone back home where we spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool.  We walked to a restaurant in the village for a delicious dinner and then returned home—where the highlight of the evening was when a dark gray mouse crawled out from the cushion on the floor sofa right beside Deveny’s leg—needless to say, mayhem ensued.  Life in the tropics will still take some assimilation, but we have several more days to figure it out, and we’re looking forward to exploring more of the island.

Singapore

“Attention! Ladies and gentlemen!” The voice of the male flight attendant came over the intercom and pulled all of out of a deep sleep.  “The Malaysian government requires the cabin to be sprayed prior to arrival; so please cover your nose and mouth and prepare for the fumigation.”  Good grief!  The fumigation?  I quickly looked around to see if hoses were dropping from the ceiling of the plane or if guys in hazmat suits carrying pump sprayers full of disinfectant were making their way down the aisle.  Turns out, the “fumigation” consisted of a flight attendant walking the length of the plane spraying an aerosol can above the baggage bins, which created an orange-scented cloud that descended upon the passengers.  Not altogether unpleasant but strange, to say the least.  We touched down at the airport in Kuala Lumpur at 6:30 PM and spent the next two hours hustling through the terminal claiming one bag, checking in for the next flight, wolfing down dinner from McDonald's, and going through one more security check.  By the time we reached our gate, the flight was ready to board, and we were off to Singapore as a long travel day continued. We already missed the comfort of the Wheel Garden residence in Siem Reap.

We arrived in Singapore at 10:30 PM and went through one of the smoothest immigration procedures we’ve experienced to date and walked to the front of the airport where we quickly secured an Uber ride.  After a smooth trip on wide, clearly marked roads, the driver dropped us off at a twelve-story highrise. We rode the elevator to the top floor, found our unit, and then waited for an hour outside the locked door because the person scheduled to let us in was late.  By the time we fell into bed it was 1:30 AM, and we were done.   Rents are very high in Singapore; so we had to secure a private room in an occupied apartment, but as providence prevailed, the owner was traveling to Hong Kong for the weekend, and we had the place mostly to ourselves.  Our room is very tight with two single beds along the perimeter and a mattress on the floor between the beds.  We have our own bathroom, but the hot water isn’t functioning, so we’ve been granted permission to use the shower in the owner’s bath.  The owner’s friend, Andi, pops in and out unannounced, so we’re doing our best to stay organized and inconspicuous, but it’s difficult in such small quarters.

The apartment is small with a long narrow living room combined with a kitchen and two small bedrooms.  There are no closets or pantries, and the owner’s belongs are stacked neatly along the length of the walls and on shelves bolted above the small appliances that fill the kitchen counters.  The walls are painted egg-yolk yellow bordered by white trim, and the floor is tiled with black and gray granite.  The only air conditioners are in the bedrooms, so the windows in the main room are open all the time to take advantage of the cross breeze. Large floor fans help to break up the humidity.  There’s a washer in the corner of the kitchen, and just outside the rear window under the sill are six-cylinder shaped receptacles in which long sticks full of clipped clothing can be placed for drying like flags flapping to celebrate Laundry Day.  According to one of our Uber drivers, most Singapore citizens live in high-rise apartments just like the one in which we’re staying, so I guess we’re experiencing life in the city the way it really happens.

Singapore is actually a city-state which goes by one name denoting its sovereignty like the Vatican, and this one name gives it a lot of street cred as it does for mononymous people such as Plato, Voltaire, and Cher.  Colonial Singapore was founded by Stamford Raffles (one of the all time great personal names) in 1819 as a strategic port for the East India Trading Company (one of the all time great business names) and was occupied by the British.  The Japanese controlled Singapore during World War II and was included with Malaysia until seceding and gaining sovereignty in 1965.  Since that time, Singapore has grown to become wealthy with some of the lowest unemployment rates and one of the best infrastructures in the world.  I’ve formed impressions in my mind of the way places we’ve visited might look based on research and pictures, and by and large, most of those images have turned out as expected with the exception of actual life on the street.  I can say without hesitation that Singapore looks nothing like what I had expected, and it’s the most beautiful city I’ve ever visited.

Due to the late night and travel hangover, we took our time getting out of bed Saturday, but eventually hunger and my desire for coffee motivated us to throw on some clothes and explore the neighborhood.  Thankfully, the highrise next door had an open first-floor breezeway lined entirely with food vendors called hawkers in Singapore, and the area was anchored by a coffee shop with a no-nonsense proprietor.  This guy was gruff and covered with buddhist monk-style tattoos, and he made an excellent strong brew by straining fresh grounds through cheesecloth into a stainless steel pitcher.  His cheerful smiling daughter poured the finished product into clear glass mugs pre-filled with sugar and finished with a swirl of condensed milk.  As we walked with our steaming mugs, we discovered an Indian Muslim hawker's stall that specialized in various forms of prata, a thin fried dough similar to a crepe filled with egg or cheese and served with a spicy sauce.  We loved these tasty things, and they served as a hearty breakfast every morning of our visit.

They use the whole chicken, it makes the difference

The four languages spoken in Singapore are Malay, Mandarin, Tamil, and English, and most residents are fluent in at least two of these with English serving as the common bridge across the communication barrier.  All of the signs around town are written in English, and the Uber drivers speak it fluently; so we used this excellent service and app as our means of transportation while we explored the city.  Since we got a late start, we decided to hang around the apartment so the kids could work on school stuff, Deena could research New Zealand, and I could write.  Our goal was to attend the 5:00 PM Saturday evening service at the International Baptist Church preceded by stroll around Chinatown and a late lunch— which was a good plan that would have worked perfectly if we hadn’t given our driver the wrong address.  

We typed the address of the Chinese Heritage Center into the Uber app, and our driver who looked like the Asian version of David Bowie, arrived a few minutes later, and we eased into his sleek, black Mercedes-Benz ready to tackle the city.  About twenty minutes into the ride that should have lasted only ten, we realized there were two Chinese Heritage Centers, and of course we had keyed in the one way out by the university instead of the one in the middle of Chinatown.  Our driver was understanding, changed his route, and we enjoyed this serendipitous tour of Singapore which opened our eyes to the fantastic and futuristic look of this island city.

The cars are all brand new, clean and shiny, and they travel on perfect roads with wide lanes that undulate through high rises and business districts in a way that makes it seem like a monorail ride through town.  The many overstreet pedestrian walkways draped with vines bearing pink and purple flowers and together with old-growth trees and their thick terraced branches give the city a lush, green appearance.  The roadsides are all lined with perfectly clipped hedges, and I noticed that the tight, ficus-type bushes were planted and maintained for the sole purpose of hiding the guardrails.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and I asked our driver if the whole city looked like that. His descriptive, insightful reply was, “Umm...yeah.”  This place looks like the Walt Disney Corporation was given the directive and unlimited funds to create the most beautiful city in the world, and they exceeded expectations.  With perfect planning, and absolutely no litter or graffiti, the city looks, dare I say it, even cleaner than Disney World, and only my fellow hardcore Disneyites will understand the weight of that statement.

Our driver dropped us in the heart of Chinatown where we spent an hour wandering through the narrow streets full of tourists on a sunny and steamy afternoon.  We found a small restaurant in an out-of-the way spot and shared a luncheon of griddle chicken and potatoes and tender dumplings filled with minced pork and vegetables.  After lunch, my pursuit of a much-touted Singapore geocache led us to a nearby six-story shopping mall rooftop where we had incredible views of the city, and much to our surprise, Spiderman dropped by during his patrol of the skyscrapers.

Spidey

We made it to church just a few minutes late and settled in for an hour and a half of worship with the congregation at the International Baptist Church in their spacious modern sanctuary where a praise team from South Africa led the singing.  During the welcome time, pastor Rodney Woo came over and greeted us warmly before delivering an intense sermon on the opening verses from the Gospel of John.  We stayed for a while after the service and talked to a lady from Australia and her two daughters. They had some good tips on sights to see on our last day in Singapore.  We enjoyed attending worship on a Saturday night and talked about how we wished that trend would take hold back home as we drove home through a city that looks more similar to our hometown than any place we’ve visited in the past eight months.

We spent a good bit of the next day hanging around the apartment and had a late lunch before heading downtown to meet a walking tour scheduled to start at 4:30.  The tour was led by three young women who are students at one of the local universities and conduct tours to improve their English skills and earn course credit.  They did a great job as they guided our group for many kilometers over three hours along the Jubilee Trail, which includes points of historical and cultural interest all along the riverfront.  

Most of the history came from British colonial times in the form of old churches and government buildings, and we stopped at some war memorials set in large parks with sports fields all around.  The waterfront yielded the best views of the incredible architecture on display in Singapore. We marveled especially at the three towers connected by a causeway in the form of a curving ship at the top.  The cityscape reminded me of the unique architecture in Chicago, and I continued to be impressed with the cleanliness of the streets and the river.  There are strict laws in Singapore regarding litter and graffiti with offenses punishable by fines, jail time, and as American Michael Fay discovered in 1994, multiple lashes with a bamboo cane.  The results of this policy are evident with spotless streets and buildings and a wide river meandering through the city free of floating rubbish.  

Legal graffiti 

After an excellent tour, we said goodbye to the friends we made in the group including Lawrence, a tall English bloke who had just begun a one-hundred-day adventure through southeast Asia.  Talking with him brought back memories of the beginning of our own journey, which seems so far back now that we are in the eighth month and still traveling.  We followed the advice of our Australian friend from church and spent the rest of the evening at the amazing Gardens by the Bay with its views of the skyline and huge man-made trees the size of apartment buildings glowing with slow-pulsing colors that created a fantasy land as we walked around ponds full of pink blooming lilies and bordered by thick towers of peach and purple orchids.  From the hawker stalls, we chose middle eastern for supper with a plate of hummus and a bowl of lamb moussaka with loaves of freshly baked pita bread right out of the brick oven.  

With only a weekend to spend in Singapore, we knew we wouldn’t be able to see everything the city had to offer, but we saw enough to make a lasting impression of this world-class city.  I wasn’t exactly expecting to see old men on the street corners with long beards and silk robes sharing an opium pipe, but I sure wasn’t prepared for the huge scale of urban beauty presented by this sovereign metropolis, and I’m glad we made room for Singapore in our ever dwindling itinerary.