Brunei, Singapore and Bali

Since my last post I've visited several countries. I went through the beautiful and interesting, but excruciatingly unexciting country of Brunei. This is a place with no income tax, subsidies for everything and no cost for post-secondary education. It also has some beautiful rainforest because the country's oil money has allowed them to keep the rainforest intact (of course, the debt remains and the interest accumulates). It's also a place where alcohol is outlawed and it effects the overall vibe of the country. Nearly everything shuts down at 10pm, and there is literally nothing to do at night. When I asked the couchsurfer I was with (couchsurfing.com - check it out), he had no answer for what he did at night. "Watch TV or movies" was his answer. Now, of course there are positives to no alcohol: the crime rate is low, violence is unheard of, and I'm sure health care costs are lower per capita than in countries with alcohol. However, is it not possible for clubs, bars, or some kind of establishments to exist without alcohol? My parents always asked "Do you need alcohol to have fun?" After visiting Brunei, I would have to say, "Yes mom, I do, and so does the rest of the country." I don't feel like sitting at home in front of the TV is any more productive than having a few beers with friends on a Friday night. Of course, people in Brunei could read a book, but I could go to the club just to dance - so long as other people are getting drunk...

Singapore was next. If you are in the area, go. It costs a bit more than other places in south-east Asia, but it's really nice. First-world-clean, cutting-edge, nice. The coolest thing I did in this country (besides walking around little India for hours on end) was going to the zoo with another couchsurfer and we happened to stumble upon the tortoises at the exact time of their feeding (just my luck!). For less than $4 CDN I was able to feed 80-year-old tortoises, as well as a few younger ones. Watching their mouths as their soft pink tongues stuck out to pull the apple back in to their beak-like mouth made me feel like a kid at a petting zoo for the first tim; giggling and wide-eyed in amazement of these magnificent creatures. I was then advised to touch, pet and scratch them (particularly under the chin of the biggest one!). The skin on the neck felt dry yet stretchy, while their legs were as hard as rocks. Despite all the rumours about tortoises being immovably slow, they move with great consistency and I can now see why the hare lost the race.

Currently I am in Bali and the Hindu culture has been intoxicating (Bali is the only part of Indonesia that ins't predominantly Muslim). Ornate stone temples with carvings that would take ages are everywhere, and offerings are made throughout the day everywhere I go. The offerings usually consist of several flowers, rice and incense compiled in small boxes made from banana trees. Beautiful for their elegance, simplicity and devotion, they are unlike anything I have seen before. There is also art everywhere, and people continue to greet me with a smile everywhere I go. It is a relaxing and calming atmosphere. I also happened to get into Ubud at the exact time the Spirit Festival began. Apparently this is the biggest single draw to Bali all year, and I happened upon it by dumb-luck. The festival is all about balinese music, dancing and yoga. It's been uplifting to be a part of, and it's definitely good for the soul.

The Rainforest Reality

As I drove from Mt Kinabalu to the town of Sandakan (where the Orangutan sanctuary is), I quickly noticed that the roads were lined with what seemed to be an endless palm tree forest. Literally, for 3 and 1/2 hours of driving I only saw plam trees. At first, I thought they were naturally occurring and quite beautiful - I mean who doesn't love plam trees? They are part of the quintessential tropical vacation: lazing on the white sand beach with the breeze blowing through the palm trees' leaves with a cocktail in hand... Who doesn't dream of that scene as they prepare for their beach vacation? However, as I continued to watch them fly by from the bus window, I realized they were perfectly spaced apart and all at the same age of maturity. Typically, such perfection doesn't occur in the forests of nature, and I realized that these were the plam oil plantations I had read about before coming to Borneo. Malaysia is the world's second biggest exporter of palm oil, (first - Indonesia, who owns the other two-thirds of Borneo island... what do you think I'd see if I drove around the Indonesian part of Borneo?).

I mention this because for years I've heard about the "destruction of the rainforest", but it's never really meant anything. Obviously, I know it's a bad thing and that it's causing the loss of countless flora and fauna species, but could I really understand it as I read about it in my National Geographic magazine (printed on glossy-paper) from my air-conditioned living room in Canada (or even more absurd - my heated living room as the snow accumulated outside)? What was the tropical rainforest to me? Even when I went to the Peruvian Amazon the rainforest was a lush place, full of life and untouched by the hand of man. All looked in good order there.

The palm oil plantations in Borneo, on the other hand, have given me poignant proof that we are destroying the rainforests. At first, I was sad to see the plam trees, after a few hours I was scared at the sheer number and size of the plantations - on the upcrest of a hill looking down, all one can see is palm trees for kilometres around. The next day, as we drove from Sandakan into the jungle, again the roads were lined with plam trees. The palm trees went almost right up to the river - the government has forced a small buffer zone along the river that can't be planted. Even with the buffer zone sometimes I could see the plantations in the distance from the "jungle". At this point, I was just disappointed (remember how your parents used to do that to you "We aren't mad Russell, we're just disappointed... ouch). The forest, although still teeming with life and a great adventure, wasn't nearly as thick and exotic as the Amazon experience I had.

Now, some palm oil is used as a biofuel - but only a fraction of it, and how are we improving the situation if we cut down the rainforest as a way to combat our dependency on fossil fuels? It's like borrowing from Peter to pay Paul - the debt remains and the interest is still accumulating. I obviously have no answers, but I wanted to put this out there to remind myself of what I saw on my drives in Borneo, and hopefully make it a little more real for everyone else.

Content with no where to be and anywhere to go

Borneo is an adventurer's paradise - hiking mountains, trekking jungles, boat rides through jungle rivers and incredible scuba diving. I am so thankful for how fortunate I am to be experiencing this.


As I was on the boat back to Semporna from Mabul (where I did my PADI certification and went diving for three days), I couldn't help but smile as the boat bounced off the waves and I looked out onto the sea. I realized that I was as free as I could be - I had nowhere to be, no one to see and I could go anywhere I wanted to. Quickly however, I felt the need to preserve the moment and hold onto it, in order to re-live it again and again in the future. This, as we all know, is a futile exercise - capturing moments is impossible. Of course, a camera can capture a scene, and it can help us remember that time in our lives, but it can't truly capture the emotions of the moment. As I came to this realization I just sank into the boat and enjoyed the moment for what it was supposed to be - a perfect moment. Perfect moments, when I notice them, bring so much joy and emotion that I can't help but think about loved ones who are no longer here physically, but who I feel sharing those moments of perfection with me.


Not everything has been perfect though - I feel torn by the disparity between my good fortune and the people I see everywhere who struggle to make ends meet. Why should I be given the opportunity to see all the riches the world has to offer, while others grind away everyday? The funny thing is people here smile more often and more genuinely than people at home (myself included). This makes me think that we have something backwards at home. We're so concerned with what happens next - what we have to do next, where we have to go next, who have to see next, that we can't enjoy the moment we are in. This constant planning for (or worrying about) the future makes the present less happy, as proven by the absence of random smiles in our lives, or by the forced smiles we make everyday.

Obviously, I am trying to connect both of these ideas, and while my buddy Mac may say that "we look for meaning in things", I feel that the Malay people are more prepared to enjoy their day, regardless of how their day will turn out, while we (and I include myself in 'we') spend all day planning how we will be happy next, yet rarely achieve any real happiness.

As I read over this post I just want to say that it wasn't meant to be so morose, in fact I hope that I read this in the months after I return home and it serves as a reminder for me to be content with the Now. I hope it can do the same for you.

18 Months in Korea. 1 post.

I've successfully finished teaching for 18 months in Korea. I learned a lot about teaching, Korean culture, myself and my desires while I was here. I managed to save a lot of money by working incessantly and I had fun while doing it. I was asked by a friend what the three things I will most the most are about Korea and I answered: the kids I teach, the freedom foreigners have in Korea to do as they please, and the money I've been able to amass. The kids have been the most enjoyable part of my life here, and they've shown me that I want to teach young children for many years to come. This is the most positive thing to have come out of my experience here.

While I could gripe about Korea until the sun comes up, I've decided to share a few positive things about Korea and leave it at that. First, Korea is the safest country I've ever been to - and that includes Canada. There is no serious crime, rape or robbery. I have felt safe since the day I arrived and nearly everyone I know feels the same way. This is a thing of beauty that I wish could be replicated at home. Second, the public transportation is the best I've experienced and with everything in English as well as Korean, it is very easy to use. Add to the ease the low cost (a subway ride is less than a 90 cents Canadian), and getting around is cheap and easy. Third, the convenience of things like alcohol (sold in convenience stores) and delivery of all things under the sun make for comfortable living that I will miss in Canada.

As I leave Korea after 18 months, I know that I will miss the children and many of the people I've met. Most of those people I will never see again, but such is life when one lives and travels abroad. I've matured (maybe too much) and understand myself more now, and with a bank account well stacked, I'm ready to see what I can learn on the road in Asia. My first stop is in Borneo , where I will hike, swim and trek my way across the northern part of the island for three weeks.

From Tel Aviv to Toronto

Thanks to Stephen and his family in Israel I was able to see Jerusalem and the Dead Sea in the few days I had in Israel before I returned home due to a family emergency. Jerusalem was interesting and I managed to see the tomb of Christ, the place where Muhammed is said to have made his ascent to Heaven, and the 'Wailing (or Western) Wall'. The old streets in the Muslim quarter were the most authentic, while the Jewish quarter was newer and more beautiful, but with less character. It was astounding to see the difference between the two areas, evidence of the oppression of the Arabs in Israel. Unfortunately I was unable to visit Bethlehem or the West Bank, an experience that I was looking forward to for the perspective I would have gained.
The Dead Sea was the other highlight in the few days I spent in Israel, and I again did this with Stephen and his Cousin Avi, an incredibly hospitable young man who taugt me a lot about Israeli life. The Dead Sea itself was an incredible feeling - that is when I finally allowed myself to 'sit down' in the water, at which point I was pushed up and found myself floating as if I was on a lounge chair. This feeling on water is amazing - and if Jesus really did walk on water, the Dead Sea would have made that an easy task.
I am now back in Newmarket with my family and have been so for since Saturday the 5th. I apologize for not writing earlier to those who have been following my adventures through this blog, but this is probablythe last you will hear from me on this sight for a while. God Bless.

Sinai

I write this a few days removed from my hike up Mt Sinai ("Jebel Musa" in Arabic - "Mt Moses"). I arrived in Sinai and found the bedouin camp I was looking for without any problems. There I met a German couple who were looking to hike up the mountain and sleep there. The following day we set out at midday and hiked the hard way - up, over, and through the valley and mountains rather than the steps set out from the monestary. It was a great walk on which we were alone - something I appreciated more the next day as we walked down the 'tourist' way and couldn't get away from people trying to sell us everything; anything. We were joined throughout the night by worshippers of Christ praying and singing about the power of God. There were Nigerians, Japanese, Russians, Koreans, French, Germans, and the list goes on. It was intersting - but to difficult to sleep to - to see and hear the parises of God from so many walks of life and languages. The sunset was beautiful, with the entire mountain range being lit up like fire. From our viewpoint the sun rose between two closely situated mountain peaks, creating the image of the sun as a growing piece of pie, slowly creeping and manifesting into a red disk that hovered harmoniously above the desert mountains (Attn Matt: I think this is where "the rosy fingers of dawn" is most applicable). I have never seen the sun rise in such a manner, and unfortuanetly the pictures do not do it justice. The red sun lit up the valley and its grey/red mountains in a fantastic manner that made me feel as if I was on Mars (from the pictures I have seen of Mars, Mt Sinai is the closest I have ever been to its likeness).

After the sunrise I headed to St Katherine's Monestary at the base of the mountain. This monestary is the oldest working monestary in the world - amazing considered it is situated in the middle of a Mulsim country, surrounded by other Muslim countries. This was, and is, possible because the Prophet Muhammed personally gave his protection of the sight in a written document that is on display in the museum located within the monestary grounds. There is also a decree signed by Napolean Bonaparte himself on display that grants similar protection to the grounds and the people worhsipping within them (I am a sucker for writing, and these two documents floored me; the signatures of Napolean and Muhammed? that is some cool shit). Since St Katherine's is protected by the two most destructive forces in the world (monotheistic religion and the West), I don't foresee any problems for it.

From St Katherine's I headed to Dahab, on the coast of the Red Sea. Getting there was an adventure that involved hitching a ride with a local bedouin man (for a small fee) who was stopped at the police check forty kilometers outside of Dahab, leaving me to hitch another ride with two local bedouins in the most rugged car I have been in on this trip. Don't be fooled - I was in more ghetto cars in West Africa (one in particular was started with a crank by the driver's helper, thus literally 'turning over the engine'), and the cars that took us out into the desert in Mali were certainly more capable, but they were not as rugged as the jeep I rode in with these two bedouins (one of which was deaf - it added a whole new element to not understanding what they were 'saying'). I won't go into the specifics of the car for the sake of my mother (an insurance agent who would have had nothing to do with this car - I could just think what Robert would have said if she tried to bring this one in), but the car and the bedouins were great. Unfortunately for me Dahab was not so great - a tourist place that was three times the price of the rest of Egypt and yet felt nothing at all like Egypt. It was too bad, but it gave me a few days to relax and read a few books. The drive from Dahab to the boarder (on a bus) was spectacular however, winding and twisting along the turquoise shore of the Gulf of Aqaba. I would go back to this strip of beach, just not Dahab.

My arrival in Israel was easy and I am currently staying with a few couchsurfers in Tel Aviv. My University friend from Montreal, Stephen, is in Israel for work/vacation and is staying with his cousin about twenty minutes outside of Tel Aviv (and thus too poorly located to stay with). We are planning a few day trips - he has a car at his disposal - and it will be good to hang out with him in Israel. My girlfriend, Julia, arrives on the 6th and then I will be heading to Jordan to see Petra and leaving Tel Aviv for longer than single days.

Pyramids and Abu Simbel

I am not even sure where to begin with respect to the pyramids. I am blessed and grateful to have experienced something so magnificent with my brother and Heather, two people I have grown quite fond of over the last few months. We rode camels up to the pyramids where we were immediately told that the grounds were closed (apparently they close at 4pm, and it was 4:30), to which we replied with one Ghanaian cedi (one dollar CDN), and we were left on our own. Another bribe to the keeper of the middle pyramid that amounted to about $1.80 CDN and we were left on our own until the police found us climbing the big pyramid around 5:45 and we were escorted off the grounds in the back of the truck. No harm done. We got some of our best photos from the truck as the sun was setting at the perfect height to the pyramids and desert. Although the entire experience was magical, there was a moment when two falcons were hovering motionless at the very tip of the pyramid, with the moon directly above it that captured me and will forever be etched in my memory.

The next day Matt and Heather flew to Madrid, effectively ending our fellowship in Africa. The same day I walked around Islamic Cairo, a fascinating place that seems to be a step back in time, and then I left for Aswan on the second class night train. The second class train was nicer than the regular class on VIA trains in Canada.

From Aswan I setup a day trip to Abu Simbel to see the temple of Ramses II and the temple of Neferteri, and the Temple of Philae. The temple of Ramses II boasts the largest Pharoah statues in Egypt - a serious claim in a country full of incredible monuments to Pharoahs. This trip also offered me a view of Lake Nasser, the largest man-made lake in the world. It was formed in 1971 when the dam in Aswan was built to control the annual flood of the Nile. This is also the day my camera slipped out of my pocket into the Nile at the Temple of Philae. Luckily, I must have been at the shallowest point in the Nile, with the water only about 5m deep. As I stripped down into my boxers to retrieve it (incredibly, my camera is waterproof up to ten meters- too bad it doesn't float though), the police stopped me and told me I was not allowed to get it myself. Instead, a young boy was nominated to retrieve it, and after two tries he returned to the surface successul to a chorus of cheers and hand-clapping (this spectacle turned out to be the highlight of the Temple of Philae for many tourists). In return I gave him the snowboarding goggles I had brought along in case of sandstorms, and a week's wage in Egyptian pounds (about $10 CDN). He seemed most grateful for the goggles - evident by his wearing them proudly as our boat pulled away from the island. The camera is fine.

After Aswan I took a day train to Luxor, again second class. This train was not of the same standard of the first, but it did result in some nice experiences. As there were children all around - many straining necks to get a better look of me reading my book - I passed around my MP3 player for them to listen to. As it was passed around, and smiles were being shared amongst everyone, a lady passed my her baby girl to hold. It did not take long for the baby to start crying at my ghostly complexion and blue eyes - at which point I passed the baby back - but it gave the mother great pleasure to share with me her child for the moment. All of this took place with no verbal communication because my Arabic is extremely limited, and really consists of 'please', 'thank you', 'you're welcome', and 'Sorry, I don't understand'. Nonetheless, we all understood one another and felt better for our time together when I got off the train in Luxor.

It is from Luxor that I write this, having gone to visit the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens today, along with the Temple of Hatshepsut. The Valley of the Kings is where the Pharoahs of the New Kingdom moved all their tombs after grave robbers continued to harrass the pyramids of the Old Kingdom. It is an entire valley within a mountain - chosen because it is so hidden and the mountain tops are similar in shape to the pyramids - that houses 62 tombs. The ticket is only good for entrance into three tombs, but the art and detail in each tomb is painstaking. The Valley of the Queens has fewer tombs and is located in another valley within the same mountain. Less impressive and less exhausting are the two tombs I visited here. Even so, the hieroglyphics inside the tombs are amazing and my favourite part of the Ancient Egyptian sites.

Tomorrow I head back up to Cairo and then on to the Sinai peninsula where I hope to snorkel, scuba dive, and hike up Mt Sinai.