Coffee break

About three days ago I heard on the radio that 6 women had been arrested in Granada for shoplifting in the local stores. Supposedly the were stealing winter wear and coats. I immediately called the police station and asked to go in and look at pictures of the women who were arrested. I was really hoping this time I would be able to identify at least one of them as the ones who stole from me. So we agreed that I would go in at 10am on Friday morning. At 9.55am I walked into an empty office with everything switched off and the door was unlocked, allowing me or anyone else to have free reign of the office and any ¨Top Secret¨ documents that were left on the desk or in the unlocked drawers. I waited for about 5 minutes and then another officer came out of a different department and asked if I was waiting and if I had an appointment. I said ¨yes, at 10am¨. He said ¨bueno es la hora del cafecito¨,¨it´s coffee break time¨ and that they should not be long. He also said maybe I could come back at a different time. I was still trying to digest the coffee break thing. He could have said well they must have had some emergency and that is why they are not here to make your appointment. Then he said again, ¨espera un poco, seguro estan tomando un cafe por alli y no tardaran mucho¨, ¨wait a little bit, they are probably just getting a coffee and won´t be long¨. I told him I had to work and could not wait all morning or come back later. I waited for 30 mins and no one came. Sometimes the laid backness of the Spaniards really erk me. This is something that is very common here. If you go to the bank at 10am you will normally only find one teller working because the other is on his coffee break. But they only work 8.30 to 2.30 and just started 1.30hr earlier??? I don´t understand this. In many stores around 10.30 or 11am you can find little signs hanging on the doors saying ¨be back in 10¨. But you just opened??? I have to admit that in my own store I am guilty of this sometimes but usually it is to get a coffee to go and I take not even 10 mins not the normal 30mins that everyone else takes.
Just like living anywhere things will get on your nerves from time to time and the relaxed attitude, for me is a love hate relationship. Some days you just handle things better than others. Some days I just laugh things off and think to myself ¨only here¨and other days I feel like exploding. Luckily the later does not happen to often.

Private eyes are watching you

I am now officially being watched. The fear and paranoia of being robbed again has made us decide to install security cameras. My real hopes are that if I do get robbed again they will be ¨caught on tape¨ and can be punished accordingly. The part where I lock the door and do my ¨kung-fu¨ ass kicking will be deleted off.
So not only am I blogging my daily life and feelings but I have also gone to video. Is nothing private anymore? I hope the cameras are not like those x-ray glasses where they can see thru your clothes or read into my thoughts. I still have a small part of me that I would like to keep to myself. I do have a private corner or ¨angle¨ where I am out of sight of the camera. So when I feel like jumping up and down, screaming, or making obscene jestures I can retreat to my small hide away.
I still have not figured out if I can be heard. I will have to ask if sound is also being taped. If not, I can keep talking to myself outloud and at least my phone conversations or skype calls will be private. I am wondering, what will be the next step? Like those stunt men who strap cameras on their helmets, I could walk thru my days with one strapped to my shoulder, like a parrot.
Well three cheers to broadcasting.....¨three, two, one....and we are live on the air¨.

I´ve fallen and I can´t get up

This weekend I fell down once again. I scraped my kneee, bumped my head and just when I thought I would pass out my prince charming once again swooped in to save me. I just wonder when he will grow tired of picking me up after tripping over the same obstacles again and again. You would think one would learn from their mistakes and try and better oneself....but no. During the week I do so many things to better myself spiritually, mentally and physically and then the weekend comes around and I seem to become a different person. This time like every other time I say ¨I am done, I will change¨. I hope I do. I hope I find the strength that I have within which I use to get me thru the week to also get me thru the weekends. So once again, thank you my prince.

Stick em up

Why is it that when you are robbed either forcefully or without knowing, you feel like a complete idiot. You feel violated and you can´t believe that something like that has happened to YOU! How could have I have been so stupid to not realize that someone was taking something from me. After blaming yourself for a while and feeling violated those feelings evolve into rage and thoughts of revenge. If it happens again, I´d like to know some crazy martial art and do some major ass kicking. The thought of that or those who robbed you being brought to justice is pure delight.
How come we can work so hard to acheive things and someone can walk in and in 5 minutes take a part of that away from you?

I then have to remind myself that what was stolen was purely materialistic and the situation could have been worse. Sometimes I feel like selling everything and keeping only the necessary. Then there wouldn´t be anything to steal. Unfortunately at this point in my life I don´t think that is possible.

For now I think I will sign up for some Karate or Tae kwon do and hope that if the situation were to repeat itself I will be more on guard and be able to do that ¨ass kicking¨.

Muscle relaxers

I went to my General Practioner the other day because I have been having problems sleeping. The problems are a direct result of the fact that during the middle of the night my hands go numb and I have a painful ¨pins and needles¨ feeling in them which yanks me out of my otherwise ¨light¨sleep. I never have been able to get a really good´s night sleep due to other circumstances, but that´s a different post. I was hoping that my doctor would be able to give me a solution or recommend me to a specialist. I had gone on my own to 2 different massage therapist, which specialize in sport´s or deep tissue massage. Both told me that my muscles were over devolped and were pushing on my nerve. But since things were not getting any better I thought I might as well go the Doctor route. After touching my shoulder and neck she prescribed Vitamin B and muscles relaxers. Each I am to take for a whole month. The vitamin B, I am okay with, but muscle relaxers for a whole month. That seems like a lot. I am afraid I will become an addict after a month. The good thing is instead of just my hands going numb my whole body feels numb and I sleep like a baby. I also see this as another temporary solution. But I have decided to try it and hopefully after a month I will not be looking in sketchy neighborhoods looking for someone to sell me my dosis of pain killers so I can sleep¨like a baby¨.

Snail Mail

I have to say that I am a true romantic. I love when the doorbell rings and upon opening it I find the post woman standing there with a letter in her hand. That´s how my day started today. This little white envelope with the blue and red stripes around the border was being handed to me. I immediately knew it was from my mom, in Zambia. The blue square in the corner with the words, ¨by airmail¨, and the zambian stamp costing K3,300 in the right hand corner were dead give aways. I know that we are in an era where letters are almost extinct but if you can imagine, there are actually still places on this planet that do not have an internet connection. Cell phones, that´s a whole different story. For example, my mom, who is in Zambia working with the Peace Corps. The nearest town with Internet is 100km and she has to hitch hike to get there so you can see how snail mail is another option. But what I really am wanting to get at is the joy of opening a little white letter and recieving an email is not the same. It´s so much more exciting to get mail, which isn´t junk or bills. Someone has actually taken the time to write, gone to the post office, purchased a stamp and mailed the letter. That is so much more note worthy. So a big thanks to my mom for making my day!

Updates

I am pasting and copying old emails from past travels to my blog. Unfortunately I cannot find any further back than 2 years. So there are no emails about India, Mexico, Vietnam, Laos, Myanmar, or our first Thailand trip. So many memories, people we met on the way and adventures. I am hoping that someone that I might have emailed so many years ago may be a ¨pack rat¨and not errase any of their emails, for ocasions just like these. I am going to check a few other sources and post whatever I find.

Born abroad

I was born in Papua New Guinea to parents who were missionaries. We lived there until I was three and unfortunately I don´t think I can remember much. I have problems remembering things that happened in highschool so it would be incredible if I could remember when I was 3. In 2008 we returned to PNG and I walked over the border from Irian Jaya into Papua New Guinea on my birthday. It was an amazing experience and I will try to post more on that with pictures.

Going Public

This is my first post and another step to making my life, and those who share my adventures, more public. I have been meaning to get a blog going in order to share my travel experiences and even a little bit of my every day life. I have given my blog the name ¨part time gypsys¨ because for the last 7 years we, my partner and I, have traveled for 2-3mos periods each year. The rest of the year we work and dream about our next destination. I hope to post past emails and pictures of our travels to get caught up and will even try to make a post once in awhile about what is going on with my day to day. I apologize ahead of time if my day to day is not to thrilling but it is a ¨means to an end¨. So I will officially say ¨Welcome to my blogspot¨or ¨Bienvenidos a mi blog¨.

Back to Bali

August 02,2009

We have just spent the last few days riding around on a motorbike and exploring eastern Bali. The motorbike costs us $3 dollars a day and we have been enjoying our freedom. We found a beautiful area on the beach where we chilled for a few days. We had a nice bungalow on a little cove, in Ahmed, which is littered with fisherman's boats. The boats look like spiders and have a colourful sail. In the morning they all sail out to see before sunrise. As the sun comes up the boats look like little flags off in the distance, the sight is beautiful. Then about 7am they all sail back to shore and are pulled up onto the beach. There are many areas to snorkel and we saw two wrecks, a big American ship and a piece of a Japanese ship. I have never seen an underwater wreck and was quite impressed and at the same time a little scared. We saw some colourful fish on our immersions and even a sea snake, yikes. Where we stayed the owner was Japanese and loved to cook. We were treated to $2-3 dollar dishes, like tuna tataki and fish curry. The food was delicious and put some of the better restaurants that we have eaten at to shame. In the same area is the Volcano Agung. It is not active but still a beautiful sight to see and the sunsets with it as a backdrop were amazing.

The last week of driving around on the motorbike has made me want to comment on some of the transport here. The motorbike is definitely the family vehicle as anywhere from 2-5 people can fit on one. Normally you will see 3 or 4 people on it, the father driving and two children squeezed behind him and the mother bringing up the rear. The other method is one in front, leaning on the gas tank, the dad behind and one or two children in front of the mom. It's really quite amazing. Sometimes the whole family wears helmets and other times none of them do. They weave in and out of traffic, going down one way streets or pulling up on the sidewalk. Here you can merge into traffic without ever looking and just assume that the others will weave around to avoid you. I have also realized that street signs, mile markers, marked streets are almost non existent. If they do exist they are strategically placed behind a tree or within its branches. I even saw one sign which was placed behind the pole of an advertisement, the pole ingeniously covering up just the arrow which indicated the direction. I am so puzzled by all the well hidden signs that I have drawn the conclusion that they do this on purpose. It's like "where's Wally". If you can find the sign then you can find the right direction.

Flores

July 26, 2009

I had a great birthday here in Bali. Antonio took me shopping and bought me a new surfer bikini, very appropriate since we are in surfer heaven. Then we went for an hour Balinese massage and later out for Japanese food. It was a great day.

The last week has been full of last minute changes and a little disappointment. After leaving our beautiful little beach in Waelengga we stayed one night in Ruteng and the next day were picked up by car for the next part of our journey to Labuanbajo, the eastern most part of Flores on the coast. We had booked a "travel" bus the night before in our hotel and when we saw a small SUV come and pick us up I was pretty surprised. This could only mean one of two things, either they were taking us by car to the bus station or we would be travelling by car to Labuanbajo. When we got in the car there were only two other customers, the car seats 6, and I thought no way could we be so lucky to travel the next 4 hours in luxury. I asked the guy in my "best" Indonesian, if they were picking anyone else up. He said "no". But after 10 minutes and driving around the market twice, I realized he didn't understand my question. We were looking for other customers to fill the car and wouldn't be leaving until we found them. Luckily it only took about 40 minutes and when ALL 10 of us were crammed into the car, we left for Labuanbajo. Antonio was sitting in the passenger's seat and I was in the middle seats by the window, so we were pretty well off. The guys in the last seats behind us had to travel with their luggage on their laps. It was a fairly uneventful ride, if you don't count the 4 loud ass burps, three farts and the guy next to me shaving. He threw his old razor on the ground and I made a mental note not to step on it during the journey. We of course had to stop 1hr 30 into the trip for lunch. WHAT??? It was 9.30 and we had just had breakfast 2 hours ago. With a little bit of patience and a good sense of humour these little hiccups are actually something to laugh at.
Finally we arrived at Labuanbajo, a little town on the bay. We had called and luckily booked ahead for a room, because when we arrived everything was FULL. In our hotel they told us we could only stay 2 nights and then we would have to find something else since they were booked. We went to check out the island, which we wanted to visit and the availability there, only to find out that they were booked as well. They said they would put us on a waiting list but until someone checked out they couldn't tell us when they would have a room. This was somewhat frustrating and nerve racking since we only had a room for 2 days and after one night there we still didn't have a room on the island. The next day we woke up and decided to check flights back to Bali, only to find out that everything was book until August. We had our flight for the 3rd of August but I was afraid that if we couldn't get to the island soon we would be stuck in this little town with no hotel and no island. Finally after running back and forth to airline companies, one said they could get us on the flight that same day at 2pm, we said okay. So we paid for the ticket and got our things together and went to the airport. Just as check in was starting the same guy who issued us the ticket came over and asked us to step into the office, he then told us that they were very sorry but that they were overbooked and since we booked the tickets last he was hoping that we wouldn't mind staying one more day. He told us he would book us a hotel and transport to and from the airport and we would for sure be on a flight the next day. I was really perplexed since he swore to me in his office earlier that day that there was no way we could take the flight Friday since they were overbooked. He promised that he would get us on that flight and so we reluctantly agreed. He took us back to his office in town and after calling for an hour to hotels, all were booked, finally got us a very nice room in a good hotel. We both thought "oh well" there are worse places to be stuck at and since we really were not in a hurry it wasn’t such a big deal. The next day they picked us up at the hotel and only after we got our boarding passes at the airport could I relax, but at 11.15 our plane didn't come and we were starting to think that we were going to be stuck here another day. Finally at 12.30 our plane flew in. It was a 50 seater, prop jet plane. I like these planes better than the bigger ones since they fly lower and the view is so much better. We flew over all the islands in Nusa Tenggara, seeing beautiful beaches, tiny islands, and volcanoes.
So now we have been back in Bali and are deciding what to do for the next 2 weeks. This week we will rent a motorbike and explore the nearby beaches and maybe even go back to Ubud, which we liked from our trip last year. A friend we met in Papua, George, is flying in this week and we are looking forward to seeing him. We are also thinking of going to the nearby island of Nusa Lebongan for a few days.

Flores, Indonesia

July 7, 2009

I thought I would give you all a little briefing on our travels but first to explain a bit how we travel.

Antonio and I decide on our destination and then buy our RT tickets. We don't book tours, hotels, guides etc. We have somewhat of an idea of where we want to go and what we want to see but we are always open to suggestions from other travellers. When I said that we had a guide in Sumba, I meant for only one day. We took one of the guys from the guest house because we were going to go to some small villages where we obviously don't speak the language and we would like to understand what we are seeing and be able to communicate with the locals. Plus I think it is very rude to poke my camera in people’s faces, houses etc without asking permission and also showing interest for them and their cultures.

Since my last email we have been to a little village up in the mountains. We rented a motorbike in Ende and drove to Moni, where the volcano Kelimutu is located. It is a volcano with three craters which have lakes of distinct colour in each one. The lakes change colour every few years do to the mineral and sulphur levels and also the weather. Now the lakes are turquoise, dark green and black. We also visited a few traditional villages which are known for there weavings of ikats. They are nice and some take weeks while others up to 4 months. The people here are very nice and instead of the typical "hello mista" we get "hello, where are you going". In our bungalows "mama" the owner made home cooked meals for us every night and we were even offered to try dog, but declined.
Here in Ende there is a nice market and they sell some pretty big fish here. We have seen shark, Manta Sting Rays, large tuna and other smaller fishes. We will be going tomorrow to a small town called Boawe to the west of Ende.

I thought I'd include some funny things that people have said or yelled to us....
"hello mista. I love you and your woman"
" hello foreign"
"bule" which literally means white person

Sumba, Indonesia

July 2, 2009

When we got off the plane we saw family members greet each other by rubbing their noses together and I had to ask myself "where are we?" We had just landed in Tambulaka, Sumba after a 40 minute plane ride from Bali. Sumba is to the east of Bali and we stayed in the western part of the island. The plane we flew on must have been at least 40 years old and I was thankful to disembark into a small one roomed terminal where we were immediately swarmed by people offering us "transport mista". We had to endure the pestering for about 30 minutes until our luggage arrived. Luckily Sumbanese are not aggressive and are just looking to make some money and if not maybe conversation. Finally we left with our privately hired transport to Waikabubak, yes it took me all week to finally be able to remember the name. Waikabubak is a run down, dusty town with hardly any if not no entertainment whatsoever. We checked into the hotel and decided to take one of the extremely basic rooms, fan, bed, bucket shower and western toilet (nice treat not having a squat toilet) and no sink. The next day a wedding was taking place and the tour guide from the hotel was going to be busy with that so we decided to walk around and see the town and the near by traditional villages. We went to the market where we saw dogs and goats tied to posts for sale and later for eating, motor bikes with a wood pole horizontally placed off the back and tuna and mackerel hanging of that. We saw the typical betel nut used for chewing and spitting up large pools of red saliva and rolled tobacco which they smoke, chew or just stick under there top lip. The women and men wear woven "ikat" sarongs as skirts, the women long and the men short. The men wear a wide leather belt to keep theirs in place and in the belt they carry a medium sized sword/machete in an intricately carved wooden sheath with a buffalo horn handle. There were barely any restaurants and most people eat in make shift little shacks where food is served. They usually have the typical fried rice, grilled chicken or fish and all served with an extremely spicy chilli sauce (my stomach is still thanking me today). Our guide had invited us to the wedding and we went for a little bit and because we were the only white people there, not to mention in the town, we attracted a lot of attention. Finally after the wedding was over our guide took us on a motorbike trip to some of the nearby traditional villages. The first village was truly amazing. The traditional homes with high roofs made from long grass and the houses made of bamboo were like out of a movie. The grass hangs low over the balconies and that's where the villagers sit performing their daily duties, breaking the skin from coffee beans, weaving baskets, sharpening knives, drying vanilla etc and of course all the while chewing their betel nut and the men smoking their cigarettes. In front of each cluster of houses is a ceremonial area where there is a small carved statue and large above ground tombs with immense rock lids. The dead are buried sitting up hugging their knees and depending on the size of the family sometimes the whole family is buried in one tomb. We went from house to house visiting the villagers, while some ran to hide, most invited us over and offered us betel nut, bananas and tea. The houses were set up on a hill and it was very green and lush the surrounding area. It was not a tourist thing and like I said it was an incredible experience. We went on to another village later that afternoon which we could only get to by hiking up a winding narrow path. We also rented the motorbike a few days by ourselves and we drove to some of the beautiful deserted beaches and visited other villages. One of the days while we had stopped to take pictures of a procession on the street, a girl ran over and in very good English invited us to participate in a funeral. The funerals can last days and they slaughter many pigs, buffalos and this time even a horse. Luckily we didn't stay long enough to presence that.
In The whole duration of our stay we may have seen 10 tourists and were always received enthusiastically with a "hello mista" and an occasional "hello misses". In fact all the while walking thru towns, villages, driving on our motorbikes people yelled the same "hello mista" and if you gave a wave they were happy. Even the first night we were there and the lights had gone out and there was no moon people still recognized us in the pitch black and yelled after us.
Today we left on another 40 year old plane to an island north of Sumba called Flores. We will be here for the next month. When we arrived at our hotel and saw our room Antonio said "ooh it's nice to be back to a little civilization". This comment came from the fact that there was a "mandi" a shower head in our bathroom. Aaaah, life’s little luxuries.

Back to Asia

June 21, 2009

Another year and we are back in Southeast Asia and as always I am super happy to be here. When we landed in Bangkok we were surprised by good weather, which means less than 100% humidity and under 90 F. I don't want to bore you with the same details from other years so I have decided to share a few things that have come to my awareness before but I really never paid much attention too. First off things have changed a little in Bangkok, prices have gone up and quality down, I assume this has to do with the economic crisis. The backpackers don't look as "hippy" as before and have changed their fisherman pants for jeans and summer dresses. The traffic is just as congested as before on the busy streets but I realized that no matter how long you can be stuck in a traffic jam very few people are honking their horns or becoming upset. Another funny thing is that the Thai's love their menthol scents. They sometimes use a balm and dab it under their nose, which I assume avoids bad smells or getting car sick. But this year I realized that many also use the menthol in a stick which you can jam up your nose as frequently as you like and inhale. Some for more convenience just leave it stuck in their nostril, assuming you have the right size nostril, not too big or too small, and cruise around town with it sticking out of their noses, breathing in the fresh menthol air of Bangkok. I promise you before I go I will try this, assuming I have the perfect size nostril.
Yesterday we left Bangkok and flew to Bali and here we are in Kuta beach, surfer paradise. Here in Bali people instead of handbags or ipods they carry around surf boards. I thought I would do the same but my size surf board, made for beginners only or a two year old, and 3 times my size is not so easy to drag around plus you definitely do not look cool with it. I love being back in the sun and hanging at the beach. The Balinese have a very refined culture and are very hospitable. We are planning to go to Flores from here, which is one of the eastern islands of Nusa Tenggara. We haven't decided if we are flying or taking a bus/ferry trip, which would take like 3 days, to get there. Actually I think Antonio has decided but is amusing me by saying he will go to the bus station to check times and prices.