Letter to Our Grandchildren

This is a letter to our grandkids, Luke Gavin Bibb and Leia Rose Bibb.

Dear Luke and Leia,

Pap and I really wish we were able to see you and tell you how much we love you. Unfortunately, we can't, and it's not because we haven't tried. We aren't sending gifts or letters, and the only reason is because your mom told us not to.

I totally hate family drama. Somebody always loses.

So here's the thing: Whatever happens (or has happened) between family members, we love you. Period. You will always have a place in our hearts ... and in our home.

Meanwhile, we are writing virtual postcards to you. It's a way to let you know that we're thinking of you and to tell you about the places we've visited. They may sound rather lame to you by the time you read them, so please remember that we wrote them when you were younger.

A lot of them were posted on our regular travel blog. But since we have so many articles there, we thought it would be better to keep them all in one place. Hopefully, you'll find this website some day and enjoy our ramblings.

Regardless of what your mom says, we're always here for you.

Love,
Nana and Pap

We've Moved the Main Blog to a New Site

Because Dan and I will be travelling more than we thought, we've decided to set up our own real, actual, official blog page. Our families, friends and others have asked to follow our adventures and read about the world as we saw it.

Why we're starting a new website

I started with Blogger because it was quick and easy but we need more control. Dan is a phenomenal photographer and wants to post his best photos there. You don't get much control here on Blogger.

Our new site uses WordPress, which means we have to redesign everything from the ground up. We have two years of travel photos to weed through and a lot of WordPress to learn, so it'll be a work in progress for a while ... please be patient with us and let us know if you encounter any problems. 

Bottom line: future posts about our experiences will be on our new site, not this ... you can look forward to six weeks of posts from Europe and reading about things to do in Panama and (maybe) Christmas in Germany.

Please come join us at our new home: www.aswesawit.com.  If you like what you see, please help us by

1. subscribing to our newsletter and 
2. commenting on our posts.  

Both will help our Google page rankings, which is a big deal. And besides, it's more fun to write when you know someone's actually reading it.

El Cangrejo

Dan and I have settled into El Cangrejo.  (I'm not sure why it's called that; cangrejo means 'crab'.)  Once occupied primarily by affluent Jewish families, this neighborhood is now a mixture of nationalities and cultures, so we fit right in.

Our apartment is on the 19th floor of a building so new, they hadn't finished construction.  When we moved in the workers had just installed the appliances the day before.  That night we discovered -- the hard way -- that the kitchen faucet wasn't installed correctly and our shower drain was hopelessly clogged. (Thankfully, we didn't discover the hard way that there's no ladder to help residents get out of the pool. They wouldn't do that in America!)   We also discovered that night that the gas had been shut off to the building for the weekend.  At least it gave us a good excuse to try out some of the local sidewalk cafes.

Rainy Season in Central America

No matter where one goes in the tropics, it doesn't change: There's a dry season and a rainy season. No four seasons here. Dan and I arrived in Panama during the rainy season and didn't see the sun for the first three weeks we were there.

From December through March Panamanians enjoy a sunny dry season (they call it summer, haha). Now the rainy season has started again and God waters the land every afternoon. A few weeks ago we had so much rain so quickly that we literally had a river running down the road. Within half an hour it overwhelmed the drains ... and some unsuspecting drivers who had parked in a low area returned to find their cars submerged to the top of their trunks. Thank goodness it drained just as quickly!

Things to Do in Panama City

1. See Miraflores Locks at the Panama Canal

2. Explore Casco Antiguo. 

Sometimes called Casco Viejo, it's Panama's Old Town

3. Wander around Panama Viejo

4. Go to El Valle

5. Cruise the Panama Canal

You can choose either a partial transit or a small boat with Captain Carl. He has a houseboat on the canal that you can stay on overnight, if you so choose.

6. Visit the Panama Rainforest Discovery Center

Gamboa is tucked up into the jungle where the Rio Chagres meets the Panama Canal.  Scientists from around the world flock to Gamboa to study the birds and animals along the Pipeline Road where birdwatchers have set world records for numbers and variety. For those of us who are the Panama Rainforest Discovery Center along the Road.  The Panama Rainforest Discovery Center is in the Pipeline Road, on the border of the Soberania National Park.

7. See the Amador Causeway. 

This six-kilometer causeway was built to protect the Panama Canal.  You can enjoy the sunset from one of its restaurants and get good photos of the Bridge of the Americas and ships waiting to enter the canal. There's a long sidewalk perfect for runners but if you don't have the energy bicycles are available for rent.  It took us 6 months before we found Punta Culebra Nature Center; it's got a small sign but once there you and your kids can enjoy the aquariums and marine touch tanks, and use the binoculars to see  the ships waiting to enter the canal. They have a small gift shop and museum but I was more interested in watching a mother and baby moving from tree to tree while we were there.  

8. Party on Calle Uruguay

9. Hike in Parque Nacional Metropolitano

A rainforest in the middle of the urban sprawl, it's the lungs of Panama City.

10. Go to the beach

The locals enjoy day trips to Taboga Island.

My Take on Curaçao

Worth a return visit?  Yes.

Would I live there? Yes, as long as it was in or near Willemstad. On a livability scale of 1 to 5, I'd give it a 3.5.

The People: Maybe it was a fluke, but we didn't meet a single surly person there.  Everyone was kind, friendly and helpful. Every single one.

The Country:  If you expect a tropical rainforest you'll be sorely disappointed.  Most of what you'll see will be cacti and other plants suitable for xeriscaping because Curaçao gets only about 570 mm (22 inches) of rain a year.  This little tidbit has totally destroyed my long-held assumption that all Caribbean islands are lush gardens. The up side of this is that you'll likely have clear skies every day and plenty of opportunities to work on your tan and enjoy its many beautiful white sand beaches.

If you're a photographer, Willemstad won't disappoint with its distinctive bridges, colorful historical buildings and cobbled pedestrian streets.  You can sit at a waterfront bar and enjoy a cocktail while you shoot the ships that pass by.

Judging from our short snorkeling excursion the diving in that clear azure water must be spectacular, just as the brochures promise.

The Food:  Plenty of cuisines to choose from, both spicy and not.  Seafood lovers won't be disappointed. Unfortunately, not all chefs are created equal.

What I loved:  The sunny climate.  The colorful buildings.  The Dutch architecture.  The cobbled streets. The pontoon bridge.  The people are incredibly friendly.  Hearing them switch easily from one language to another.  Snorkeling in the clear water and seeing all the tropical fish.

What I didn't like: The country relies on desalinization for its water supply.  Being sick for half of my time there.

Thoughts:  I was totally amazed by the ease with which everyone switched from one language to another, not to mention the more remarkable fact that they are fluent in four languages.  Americans need to check their We're #1 arrogance at the airport.

Curaçao, part 2

Dan and I awoke late, to discover that we both felt poorly. We had no energy to do anything more than go downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. As we sat at the table we realized that we never rest when we travel; most of our time is spent out and about with our cameras. Today, however, we didn't want to go anywhere. Perhaps tomorrow we would get back to our normal routine and squeeze in a bit more sightseeing before our plane left.

By the time our meal was over all the lounge chairs on the white sand beach were occupied. The infinity-edge, free-form pool still had spots available though, so we plopped down under an umbrella with our books. As usual, speed reader me finished quickly. I went to the gift shop to find another book and was shocked to see that the books were all $15 and up. (What do I know? I always go to the library.) When I came back empty-handed Dan chided me and said, "buy it anyway, you need something to read." So back I went, found a book and charged it to the room. I made small talk with the saleslady, telling her Dan had made me come back. She laughed, "I want to meet that man and shake his hand."

I hadn't noticed before, but when I returned Dan pointed out a couple of older women who were sunbathing topless and asked if it was not a big deal on the island. "Search me," I said, "I burn too easily to even contemplate such a thing." We took a dip in the pool to cool off -- wearing our bathing suits -- before laying down again and were soon lulled to sleep by the sun and our Sansa Fuze mp3 players.

When we awoke we carried our snorkeling gear down to the water's edge and donned it. We swam out to a pier and looked at all the fish, some of which we'd had in our saltwater aquarium back in Florida. After about 20 minutes in the water we realized we just didn't have the energy to continue safely so we dragged ourselves out of the water to return to our chairs and take a long nap.

Note to self: If all the beach chairs are occupied in the morning, you can often find an empty one when all the beach-goers have gone to look for something to lunch on.

Dan and I dropped our accoutrements on two of the beach's unoccupied lounge chairs and found a cafe table close enough to keep an eye on our belongings. There was little on the menu to choose from but the chicken fingers and beer we finally ordered put us in the mood for another nap. I can't remember the last time I'd slept as much. I awoke only when I needed to reposition my lounge chair into the shade cast by the thatched umbrella.

Later Dan and I moseyed over to the tiki bar and claimed seats at the bar in full view of the wide-screen TV so we could watch the Super Bowl. We thought of Dan's family back in Florida who are rabid Steeler fans. Today was a High Religious Holiday for them. Two drinks and a dinner later, when we realized that the Packers were going to trounce the Steelers, we decided to call it a night and went back to our room.


This was the first time we did nothing for an entire day when we were away from home, but it was a day well-spent nonetheless.

Curaçao, part 1

Curacao lies in the southern Caribbean between Aruba and Bonaire, just above Venezuela.

Dan and I arrived in Curaçao's small, open-air airport with a single carry-on suitcase and a dive bag of snorkeling gear. I was really glad that we didn't have a lot of baggage as I wasn't feeling well; I'd awoken that morning with a sore throat. Fortunately, it was a nice flight and I slept much of the way. It was our first experience on DAE; our seats were roomy and as the flight wasn't full we were able to spread into the center seat.

We grabbed a taxi and rode 30 minutes across the island to the Hilton. The arid landscape was a sharp contrast to the lush rainforest in which we live and we learned that the island gets its fresh water from a desalinization plant. When I asked about the oil refinery we passed the taxi driver told me that much of Curaçao's income and employment comes from the oil industry because it is so close to Venezuela and has a deep-water harbor. (And in case you were wondering, he pronounced it Koo-ra-sow, not Cure-a-sow or Ca-ra-ko.)

Our plane arrived so early that our room wasn't ready. The concierge locked up our bags and we had a leisurely lunch in the open-air restaurant. As soon as we could check in dropped our bags in the room and made our way to Willemstad, cameras in hand. We knew from YouTube that Willemstad boasts traditional Dutch facades on many of its historical buildings, and we were eager to explore it.

As the story goes, in 1817 Governor-general Albert Kikkert complained that the glare from the buildings was giving him headaches and decreed that buildings should be painted any color other than white. What resulted was a multitude of beautiful pastel colors that still adorn the capital city's buildings and beg to be photographed by tourists like us. As we wandered around marveling at the architecture I noticed that even buildings in the back streets enjoy the same stunning colors.

Two bridges span the water, the beautiful Queen Juliana bridge, one of the highest bridges in the world, and the Queen Emma pontoon bridge. Dan and I were fascinated by the pontoon bridge, a wooden pedestrian bridge supported by 16 floating pontoons. When a ship needs to pass, two motors swing the bridge open from one side. (Here you can see the pontoon bridge opening and the Queen Juliana bridge in the background.) If the bell rings when pedestrians are on the bridge, they have to run to make it across before it opens. Woe to those who don't move quickly enough; they'll have to ride it out and wait until it closes to finish their journey.

Willemstad lies on both sides of the water and there are plenty of pedestrian-friendly streets to meander down. We came across an open-air market and enjoyed looking at all the fresh foods and souvenirs. When I translated a French souvenir to Dan the proprietress began conversing in French. During our brief conversation I learned that, although the island's official language is Dutch, most natives speak four fluently: Dutch, English, Spanish and Papamiento, the local dialect. That's really impressive. Most Americans can only speak English.

To avoid ruining my holiday I finally surrendered to taking decongestant and Dan stopped at an ATM for Antilles Guilders so I could buy some. Money in hand, we found a corner pharmacy. While he remained outside with his camera, I entered and approached the pharmacist. She recommended Claritin and asked how many pills I wanted. As in Panama and Indonesia, medications are sold by the tablet, not by the box. How different from America.

Back outside, we walked back to the waterfront and walked to an open-air cafe where a live band was playing. We ordered drinks and watched the people and boats pass by as the workday drew to a close.

Finally we decided to find a restaurant. Curaçao's full of immigrants and its foods are a melange of foods such as Dutch bitterballen and rijstaffel, Latino empana and Antillean criyoyo (as in criollo). Indonesian dishes such as nasi goreng and satay are also popular but -- been there, done that -- I'd had enough of those when we were on Bali last fall and they didn't appeal to me. We like to try local dishes, anyway. Any island is bound to have fresh seafood so Dan ordered a delicious criyoyo sea bass. Because my tongue doesn't like hot peppers I ordered a local dish, called keshi yena. Keshi yena means 'stuffed cheese' but is traditionally made with chicken, vegetables, seasonings and raisins. Unfortunately their version was so salty that I couldn't eat it. The waiter offered me a dessert on the house. I guess the chef finally tried it and agreed with me.

Back to the hotel we went. We enjoyed a drink at the tiki bar before retiring for the night.

P.S. After Governor-general Kikkert's tour of duty ended, the citizens discovered that he'd had a financial interest in the paint company.

Renewing our visas

Many expats here in Panama are on tourist visas, which means they can only stay in the country for 90 days. If they want to stay longer they have to leave and then re-enter on an endless 90-day cycle. Since our tourist visas expire on February 9, we've been on the lookout for affordable places to go.

Maybe it wasn't from God, but a sign suddenly popped up near our apartment advertising a new airline flying to our Tocumen International Airport. Just in time for our needs DAE (Dutch Antilles Express) had a special promo: $98 one-way to all its destinations, including its hub in Curacao. Perfect. Neither of us had ever been there, so it would be an adventure.

Dan's heavy work schedule (60+ hours/week) made it seem impossible, but nevertheless we had to go. We decided to go for two nights the first weekend in February -- which was cutting it close -- and Dan went online to book the tickets while I googled "Curacao hotels."

When he went to pay he discovered the small print: DAE charges $11 if you want to use a credit card. Oh, well, it'll cover their fees. Tickets: Check.

True to form, I found an absolutely stunning hotel that was out of our price range. The Curacao Hilton's white sandy beach laid between stunning rock formations that would most likely be perfect for snorkeling and fish-watching. It had acres of manicured grounds to wander and a large freeform, infinity-edge pool. Plus the beach had Tiki spots under which we could park our lounge chairs, Dan in the sun and I in the shade. I pictured a waiter bringing us nice, cold blue cocktails (gotta have a drink with blue Curacao while we're there, right?), swaying palm trees, tropical music, tiki bar nearby, an expanse of blue Caribbean water, the sound of the waves....

But not for $200 a night. We'd forgotten that it was high tourist season in the Caribbean.

Since that was out, we opted for our usual Plan B: Hotwire. On this hotel booking website you narrow the selection down by general area, amenities, star rating and price, select one of the nameless options and pay, and then find out where you are staying afterward. (Small print: It's not refundable or changeable.) Dan selected a four-star hotel for $120 a night, plugged in the payment information, and we waited to see which hotel would enjoy our smiling faces.

Imagine our surprise when we discovered that we'd be staying at the Hilton after all!

Settling In in Panama City

Dan and I have spent the last three weeks searching for an apartment. That is not to say we've been homeless since we arrived, but rather that we've decided to settle down.

Until now we have been staying in a short-term furnished apartment that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. We can see the ships waiting to enter the Panama Canal and watch the tide roll in and out. We can walk to one of the nicest malls in the city (Cartier, Nautica, etc.), three grocery stores and lots of restaurants. While that might sound idyllic, it has its down side: It's only a few blocks from the Pan-American highway and on a main street, resulting in constant traffic noise. Worse, Panamanians seem to feel that every other driver on the road should move out of their way and declare their impatience with frequent use of their horns. And its flimsy windows mean we get to hear it all, even at 3 am.

As of next week we will no longer be able to see the ocean and walk to the mall. Instead we'll be in the middle of the city and only steps from a park, shops and sidewalk cafes. Our apartment is so new that they haven't even finished painting the walls, and so we get to pick the color. Most likely it will be a warm neutral, like sand. The best part? Our two closest friends are neighbors.

I'll write about the neighborhood in a future post.

My Take on Singapore

Worth a visit?  Without a doubt.  Especially if you're looking for high-tech electronics.

Could I live there?  Yup.  On my livability scale of 1 to 5, I'd give it a 5.

The People:  This is, hands down, the most cosmopolitan city I have ever been to. Every shade of skin and shape of eye can be seen on the streets.  The three largest ethnic groups are Malay, Chinese and Indian, and I enjoyed seeing the different clothing styles and shops in their respective Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu neighborhoods.

The Country:  High-rise glass buildings and traditional buildings share real estate in this city-state, each neighborhood with its distinctive architecture, restaurants and aromas.  Its infrastructure seemed newer and better than what we had in the United States.. Singapore is actually a collection of islands, some more inhabited than others, so if big city life doesn't appeal to you, there still are plenty of spots where you can be happy.

The Food:  The first night we arrived in Singapore Dan and I ate at a fabulous Indian vegetarian restaurant and never missed the meat.  The next day we walked through Chinatown and were amazed at the selection of eateries. With such a blend of cultures it's no surprise that there are so many different restaurants. You name it, it's probably for sale somewhere in the city.  (Except for chewing gum, but we won't go there.)

What I loved:  Its booming economy.  It's really, really clean.  The mix of people and cultures. It's pretty. Lots of green space.  English is widely spoken.  The state-of-the-art infrastructure. It's a hub so easy to get to other Asian destinations.  Sharing a huge meal with friends at the vegetarian restaurant.  Taking a cruise on the river.  Riding the Singapore Flyer.  Taking a Hop On-Hop Off bus tour.  Police actually take their jobs seriously.  There's lots to do.  Malls dedicated to electronics. Singapore has the newest gadgets.

What I didn't like:  Bring your wallet, it's expensive.  You need a passport to drive very far, because it's such a small country.  They don't sell chewing gum.

Thoughts: Techies will think they've died and gone to heaven.

Singapore

On October 1 Dan and I left Indonesia to head back to the Western Hemisphere. We decided to take our time going back and visit a few places on our Bucket List. Stop #1 was Singapore.

Singapore is the most cosmopolitan city I've ever seen, bar none. It's got glass-and-steel highrises and a state-of-the-art infrastructure and, although Malay is its official language, English is spoken everywhere. Despite colonial British influence it has Indian, Malaysian, and Chinese neighborhoods and everywhere we went I saw people of all colors, cultures and dress.

We really only had a day and a half to see the city. The first evening we took a taxi to Little India to meet friends for dinner. Louise and her husband were Australians we'd met in Bali who lived part-time in Singapore; they took us to a streetside cafe and we sat for a while chatting like old friends over bottles of Tiger Beer. (Tiger is Singapore's national beer.) Afterward they took us to their favorite Indian restaurant and ordered an amazing variety of delicious food. Not until afterward did I remind Dan it had all been vegetarian.

Though Singapore's subway, bus and taxi systems are top-notch we opted instead to use our only full-day taking a tour, which included a river cruise and a hop on-hop off bus tour. It took us to all three neighborhoods and we got a good overview of the city. We also got some nice photos.

The one thing that impressed me the most about Singapore was how clean it is. Singapore is known for its strict laws against of littering of any kind. Chewing gum isn't even sold in the country because they don't want people spitting it out on the street. I've read that littering carries a $1000 fine and repeat offenders have to wear bright jackets and clean up a public place. They sometimes even invite the media to cover the story. Having come from Indonesia, the largest trash dump I've ever seen, the contrast was striking.

Dan wanted to look for a new camera and we went into one of the many electronics malls to look. How like Singapore to have malls just dedicated to electronics. We saw things that aren't even available in the U.S. yet, and at very reasonable prices.

The end of the day found us on the Singapore Flyer watching the sun set over the city. The Singapore Flyer is like the London Eye, but larger. From there I could see that I had been wrong about the city. It's not just a small island with a lot of highrises. It's hilly islands with lots of greenery and nice older neighborhoods too.

I've decided that if I ever have to live in Asia, I could definitely live in Singapore. Even if it meant I'd have to do without chewing gum.

Getting Around

If you want to get around on Bali, you can hire a Blue Bird Taksi. The first two kilometers cost just 5000 rupiah - about 55 cents. Our last trip to the grocery store cost less than $5, due not so much to the distance as to the traffic.

Traffic here is, shall we say, different. There are as many motorcycles & motorbikes as cars on the roads, and the bikers weave between and around cars with abandon. If there's a way to keep going, they'll find it even if it means going up onto the sidewalk to do it.

Drivers are no better. The major airport bypass road, which is two lanes in each direction, often has cars four wide. It seems no one observes the lines in the road, and the gravel shoulders frequently become another lane for cars and cycles.

We're getting used to Balinese driving: If there's a stop sign, you can usually ignore it if traffic is light. Ditto for "lampu merah" (stoplights): Apparently if they haven't started moving, you can keep going. If you have to stop before you get through, they'll pull halfway into the intersection and wait or (if they can) drive around you.

For all the apparent confusion, the Balinese are decidedly calm drivers. On those rare occasions when I've heard an impatient honk, it's always been a Westerner at the wheel. Balinese don't honk, they beep. Beep, coming around a blind corner, don't want to hit you. Beep, taksi here, do you need a ride? Beep, heads up, I'm driving around you.

I nearly freaked the first time I rode with Vonce's brother. He decided to turn right in front of oncoming traffic. I expected the car to be broadsided, but instead they stopped and waited. No big deal. What? Back in America someone would be talking about a lawsuit.

Another insight: If you see a driver waiting to enter traffic, don't stop to wave him in; he'll have no idea what you're trying to do. Instead, let him find his own way. All he'll need is a few feet between cars, and he'll pull in just fine on his own.

Dan and I got tired of relying on taksis and rented a motorbike. The cost was 700,000 rupiah per month, approximately $77. Interestingly, they didn't ask for a driver's license, just Dan's passport number, the villa's phone number, and payment up front. We are learning how to go with the flow of traffic, and that it's OK to drive between cars anytime you want, just as long as your mirrors will make it OK.

We took a spill last week when we had to stop too suddenly near the beach, but God was good and there was no oncoming traffic. Everyone who saw it happen came over to check on us and make sure we and the bike were OK. Thankfully, we don't have any permanent injuries, just a few bruises and skinned knees & elbows. The bike is OK, too. We are still considering buying one. Here, a new one sells for about 15,000,000 rupiah, which is approximately $16,500.

Fish and Fins

Due to airline weight restrictions, Dan and I decided not to bring our diving equipment. (OK, we probably could have brought it but it was old and we didn't want to pay extra to haul it.) Last week we got a chance to replace our masks, fins and snorkels at a shop in Sanur. We probably saved a couple hundred dollars over what it would have cost in the States.

Our villa is located a couple of kilometers from Petitenget Beach, on the Indian Ocean. Dan and I walked down to the beach a few days ago. The water is warmer than the Gulf, but be warned: These waves can knock you over! This side of the island is a surfer's paradise. Dan and I, however, have decided to look for a place to stay on the other side of the island where the ocean is calmer and meant for those older, out-of-shape types who prefer masks, fins & snorkel.

Guess what snorkelers can see here? Raccoon butterfly fish, Moorish idols, skunk clowns, decorated dragons, mini seahorses, and bumphead parrotfish. If we go diving on a reef we can see mola-mola, blue-banded octopus, mimic octopus, nudibranches, various sharks, sea turtles, eels, all kinds of clownfish, anemones, and shoals of anthias. (Eat your heart out, Andrew!) We'd love to take photos, but our cameras are not waterproof.

Speaking of eating, back in America giant gourami are sold in pet stores. Here, they're dinner. (I have a photo, but can't upload it. Suddenly having problems. Oh, well, maybe I can upload it later.)

Soe (So-ay)

We are in Soe, which was supposed to be a 2-hour drive. We were going to leave at 10 but – jam karet – we left the hotel at 10:30, drove over to pick up Vonce’s sister Fonny and her family and everyone got out of the car to say hello to Mama and Papa and wait for Fonny to finish packing. On the way out of town we stopped by “Paris Bakery” for Kupang baked snacks. Dan and I shared a brownie-sized item that Vonce said is a Kupang specialty. It was moist and wrapped in plastic. The consistency was like sticky rice, and it was slightly sweet and a tiny bit coconutty. After driving for an hour or so we stopped so Fonny could buy some fried snack cakes from a roadside vendor. Dan joked, “That’s why Indonesians take so long to get anywhere, they’re always stopping to eat.”

We drove for quite a while before detouring down a dirt road to stop by a river so we could get out and take pictures. It was a rapidly-moving river, but small. Fonny’s husband Johnny told us that he’d once had a maid from the area whose parents were both washed away during the rainy season, when the small river would grow to cover the entire area.

Meanwhile a man walked over to watch us. He just squatted down and watched. Indonesians do not have any problem squatting for long periods of time. They also do not consider it impolite to stare. Many people seem to spend their idle time outdoors watching everything. That seems to be their entertainment, more than TV. I haven’t seen anyone yet sitting on the porch steps reading a book.

Nearby was a van parked in the river. The locals lifted the tailgate and we heard a pig start squealing. Johnny told us that they were making a sacrifice and they might throw the pig’s carcass into the water as part of the offering.. They took the pig’s head and slit its throat, dripping the blood into the water. When it was done they washed off the bumper, closed the back, and drove away. I guess the pig was going to be someone’s dinner.

We stopped for lunch about 2:00 at a beach along the Timor Sea, 250 miles from Australia. The beach was full of locals. As soon as we got out of the car a group of men sat down nearby to watch us eat. I guess Westerners are rare on this remote beach. We watched the teens play “shirts and skins” soccer on the beach … Richard said, “Some things are universal.” I walked down to the waves; the sand was powdery-soft and the water warm. The local children seemed truly fascinated by us, though they were shy: They would run or hide if we approached or turned our cameras on them. The kids followed us from a distance as we walked down the beach. I got some truly priceless photos and by the end of our visit they trusted us enough to let us give them what was left of our liter of Coca-Cola.

If you are not used to mountain roads I recommend you take motion sickness tablets before you leave for Soe. They took those mountain curves quite fast. We didn’t arrive until after dark. Our hotel-keeper offered us a “deluxe room” for 400,000 rupiahs a night (about $44), or a “standard room” for 250,000 a night (about $27). The standard room consists of two twins or a queen bed, a TV on a desk and a sink, with an en suite bathroom; the deluxe includes a huge waste-of-space bathroom with a tub on an elevated platform. So as not to have to change rooms the next day, Dan and I took a standard twin room and pushed the beds together. All available rooms were on the 3rd floor; the stairs weren’t finished, the handrails weren’t completely in place, but the rooms were ready for guests. How different from America.

Dinner at a local restaurant: Two big bowls of white rice, 10 skewers each of beef and pork satay, a delicious green swiss chard-like vegetable, fried chicken, fried shrimp, and two other plates of vegetables-and-meat in sauce that I can’t remember, plus 8 drinks. We fed everyone for a total cost of about $17.

Adventures in Food - Part 4

Restaurants in Indonesia vary from the very upscale to the street vendor. In-between is my favorite, the warung. A warung is a hole-in-the-wall shop run by a local. They offer a few choices, such as grilled fish or bakso.

In Kupang we stopped for a local favorite: bakso. Bakso (pronounced bah-so) is a noodle soup with meatballs. We could choose either rice, spaghetti-like wheat noodles, or both. I ordered both.

Not sure what meat the meatballs were made from ... most likely chicken or beef. The meat was finely ground and they were boiled in the broth (as opposed to baked first), making the texture dense. The broth had a slight kick to it, but as usual the vendor had sambal and sweet soy available for the more demanding palate.

Bakso seems like Indonesia's answer to the Vietnamese pho. It's good, but with so many options available, I think it's not often going to be my first choice.

Adventures in Food - Part 3

went to KFC for dinner tonight. They serve rice instead of mashed potatoes in their value meal. Dan had a fish sandwich and I had a chicken burger, which was a deep fried ground chicken patty served on a bun with a few strips of lettuce and a dab of mayo. It was OK but the drink was better: lychee float. It was a lychee-flavored syrup in ice water, with soft-serve ice cream on top. Even the soft-serve seemed less sweet than DQ's.

Afterward we drove downtown to the night market. After dark they city closes down a few blocks on one street and people open up shop, little carts or just a table. We could get bakso, fruit drinks, roast corn, grilled meats, and more ... they often had a wok on top of a propane tank, usually containing either oil, nasi goreng (fried rice) or coals for grilling. We saw really fresh seafood available - from catfish to grouper to shrimp - and we wished we'd eaten there instead of KFC.

I also wished I'd brought my camera.

Lesson 2 on living in Indonesia: Learn the language

Indonesian is, to say the least, an obscure language. Few people outside of the country speak it, with the exception of Malaysia. (Apparently Malayu is to Indonesian as British English is to American English.) Many of its words come from Dutch (thank the traders), Arabic (thank the Muslims), or English (thank the media).

It’s the easiest language I’ve ever tried to learn: no past/present/future tenses, no masculine or feminine, no agreement according to first- or second-person. Very little grammar, actually. Words are pronounced as they are spelled, but when you see a c (which we English-speakers could easily do without), just make a ch sound, and you're set.

Vonce taught me a few words, numbers and phrases in her language. When I realized we might actually be visiting the country I found free language lessons online (www.learningindonesian.com), downloaded the lessons to my Fuse, printed out the study guides, and got serious. OK, not that serious. I studied for a few days, then forgot about it for a week or two, then picked it up again for another few days. In my travels about the internet I came across a free online flash card site called Quizlet, and surprisingly enough, someone had already created the flash cards for the Learning Indonesian lessons. I cannot tell you how helpful Quizlet was. Many of its learning exercises are games, and because it’s fun I sometimes lost track of how much time I’d spent on it. Wish school had been like that ...

I have been in the country for all of 6 days and I’m surprised by how much of this language I can actually understand. I have been trying to use my language with the hotel staff and Vonce’s family and made some absolutely horrendous mistakes, yet no one has laughed at me or corrected me. Perhaps they’re in shock that a bule (foreigner) would make the effort to speak with them. Or maybe they’re just kind. No matter: I enjoy trying to communicate with them and it’s fun pretending – even if only for a few minutes – that I’m a local.

Adventures in Food - Part 2

After a few days of doing not much more than hanging around with Vonce's family we went to Lasiana Beach today. Some locals had shops set up on the beach to offer their goods to beach-goers. I didn't go over to look; I was more interested in exploring what the waves brought in (not much, though we did see a couple of fish). The water was warm but didn't seem as salty.
Vonce bought grilled bananas for us to try: one with a sugar syrup and a finely chopped peanut topping, and the other with chocolate syrup and a mild, white shredded cheese. I liked the latter and found the cheese's tanginess was a nice contrast to the sweetness of the chocolate-banana mixture. Definitely would not have thought of that on my own. As seems to be usual, the sugar syrup was far less sweet than what I'd get back home. The peanuts were raw, not toasted, and had little of that distinctive flavor.

We watched a man climb one of the palm trees on the beach. He had a basket on his back and harvested stalks that grew from the top of the palm.  I asked Vonce's sister Fonny what they use it for.

The palm stalks are peeled and eaten as fruit.  Fonny brought some over for us to try. The texture is interesting: when I bit down on it, it initially created resistance, but then gave in to the pressure and squirted out its juice from every pore. Kind of fun, very unique. The fruit juice is called tuak. (Think coconut water without the coconut flavor.) It was good, but the flavor was meh and, without the fun of biting into the fruit itself, I considered it unremarkable.


Grilled corn is quite popular here.  The corn is not as sweet and the kernels are starchier and slightly tougher than the hybrid varieties of sweet corn I'm used to back home. You have two flavor options: either regular with a side dish of sambal, or sweet, if you can call it sweet. It's a shame my tongue can't handle the searing pain of spicy sambal, as they are usually homemade and so each has a slightly different flavor.



Also seen: a kaki lima (street vendor) selling bakso from his cart.  What is bakso? I hear you ask.  Well, it's a meatball made from ground meat and tapioca starch, and served with noodles as a soup.  It's an inexpensive dish and very popular here.  The ground meat is usually beef but can also be made from other ingredients, such as chicken, shrimp or fish.  Its texture is consistently dense throughout.

Lesson 1 on living in Indonesia: Jam Karet

If you dream of living on a tropical island, one of the most important things you will need to learn is that time is not all that important. We called it island time when we were in the Florida Keys and Dominica. In Indonesia, the term is jam karet, rubber time. This was clearly evident while visiting our friend Vonce’s family in Timor. Last night we were told to be ready at 7pm to be picked up for to dinner, and we left at 8. (He apparently decided to run an errand first.) I waited for 3 hours before they finally picked up my laundry this morning.

This will take some getting used to. If I continue to be frustrated by Indonesians' seeming lack of concern for keeping to a schedule, life here will be miserable. I might as well adapt to their standard, for they will certainly not change to mine.

Oh, well. It’s not like anything will fall apart if I don’t start shopping exactly when I thought I would. Life in America is rush, rush, rush. Do three things at once, none of them getting 100% of my attention or 100% of my effort. Here I really don’t have anywhere I need to be right now, or anything I have to do right away. Jam karet is probably a good thing for an American like me. Perhaps there’s something to the Zen concept of living in the moment. You know: Enjoy the ride.

Adventures in Food - Part 1

Not wanting to shock our bodies any more, Dan and I had our first Balinese dinner at a Pizza Hut. We ordered a cheese personal pan pizza. The big surprise was the variety of fruit drinks. I almost ordered an avocado shake (really?) but instead got a strawberry-watermelon juice. It came in a stemmed glass with 2 melon balls and a strawberry on a skewer. Definitely a keeper!

Our first breakfast in Bali was served buffet style and consisted of noodles, fried rice, scrambled eggs, toast and fruit soup. Some of the foods were identical to what I've had for dinner at Chinese restaurants back home, which begs the question: Do they eat the same things at every meal?


The fruit soup was made of fruit juice, water, sugar, and diced tropical fruit. I don't care why it was red. Yum-o.

Turning my reality upside-down

I am literally sitting on the other side of the world from everything and everyone I've ever known. Everything seems different. The tides seem to change more rapidly here and the stars move faster. Perception, or reality?

So many things are different that I've been joking that everything is backwards. As my family and friends back home finish dinner, I'm thinking about breakfast. Cars drive on the left-hand side of the road. I flush the toilet by pulling the lever, and its whirlpool goes in the opposite direction. I flip the light switch UP to turn it on. The word for water is air. Most surprising, we pay for our hotel at the end of our stay.

This will be interesting.

Losing It

Dan and I have known for quite a while that his work would require going overseas. What we haven't known is how long we would be out of the country. We still don't know.

We realize that we can't take everything we own with us. Not only would it be expensive, there's a lot of stuff that we simply don't need. So we have been eliminating those things we don't want by giving mementos to our children, selling what we can, donating to charity, and throwing junk away.

Thinking back, I've just realized that this is the fifth time in my life that I've been reduced to little more than a suitcase-ful of possessions. The first time was when I moved back to New York from California. I was 24 then and didn't have a whole lot anyway.

A few years later my then-husband and I loaded everything we owned into our old Ford Maverick and left Albuquerque with our 5-month-old daughter. Most of what we took with us to Maryland was baby paraphernalia. Come to think of it, we didn't have much then, either.

I lost more when I moved to Florida. Most of my precious possessions were in the attic of the house I left in Maryland. When I filed for divorce a few years later, he left the house - and all its contents - to the bank and its foreclosure process. Losing everything was bittersweet. I lost cherished mementos but also got rid of my deadbeat husband.

In 2004 Hurricane Charley hit Dan's and my home in Punta Gorda, Florida while we were on vacation. We returned to find no roof and much of our home was soaking wet. Happily our photos survived, thanks to the Rubbermaid tub they were stored in. We threw out a lot of things we loved over the next few months.

On reflection I have to admit I'm not really being reduced to a suitcase. True, that's all I'm taking with me. But I've asked Elizabeth to keep a box of my favorite things and I'm leaving a lot of other stuff behind for staging the house while it's on the market. I've also given the kids most of the family heirlooms, like the photos of my great-great-grandparents, Granny's furniture, and pillows my great-grandma quilted, praying that they will someday cherish them as much as I do.

After they return from Virginia the kids are going to take what they want and Chris, who will stay there until it sells, will take it to his new home and sell the rest on Craigslist.

It's remarkably freeing to be rid of things I don't really need and even more freeing to know that I've saved my children from the emotional trauma of going through my possessions after I'm gone.

Before and After

I've decided to post a brief account of how we changed our house since we first moved into it, complete with before and after photos.

Originally the living room walls were the same dark paneling as the bedroom and the dining room was a faded mint green. It's amazing what a can of paint can do.


Phase two was installing laminate flooring. We did most of it ourselves but did hire a pro to come in and do the more difficult parts at the end.


As soon as we moved in we pulled off the kitchen's old floral wallpaper with one tug. Because its dark wood cabinets made the room seem really dingy, we removed all the hardware, filled the holes in the doors, painted them cream, and added new hardware. We replaced the worn countertop with a stock one from Lowe's and painted the backsplash and walls.


Phase 2 saw the addition of a new kitchen floor: the same laminate flooring that we were installing in the living and dining rooms.

Phase 3: We tore out two kitchen walls, glazed the cabinets (Sherwin Williams' French Roast, very easy to do), bought new appliances, and put in a new kitchen island with breakfast bar. Oh, and we got rid of the fluorescent fixtures and added pendant and can lights.  I'm sorry that I don't have any photos of these changes yet.

Moving On

The Buddhist philosophy is that life is flux and change; nothing stays the same. How true.

Take my life, for example. In the past few months Andy and his family moved out of the basement and Christopher decided to take over their former domain, bequeathing us peace and quiet upstairs. We've redone the master bath and kitchen and landscaped the yard. Dan's career will require extensive travel for the next few years so we've decided to put our home on the market. We've given away and sold all but the most precious of possessions, which our children will receive. I said goodbye to a treasured part of my childhood when my father passed away. Now I'm saying goodbye to my day-to-day job as a mother because today my youngest child becomes a legal adult.

Saying goodbye to some things by default means saying hello to others. Sadness gives way to joy, the loss of some things makes room for others. My children are young adults with dreams of finding love and eventually settling down. And I, on the other hand, look forward to my new phase of life as an "empty nester," free of needless possessions and able to travel.

It's all good.

Fixing Up the House

Why is it that we put off all the "honey-dos" around the house until we decide to put it on the market? If it's merely a matter of money, is it important enough to spend for others but not important enough to spend on ourselves? If time is the issue, how could we suddenly find a way to fit it into our schedules, when we couldn't before? If it's a matter of finding the energy, where did we get it, if we didn't have any before?

We recently ripped out the avocado green tub and toilet in the master bath and brought it into the 21st century. This week we finished glazing our kitchen cabinets with the beautiful French Roast glaze we had purchased four years ago when we'd first decided to paint them. Our next task: to paint over the (eeew!)dingy, smoke-stained paneling in the master bedroom that we had hated even when we first looked at the house.

Calibishie

If you saw Pirates of the Caribbean 2 or 3, you've seen Dominica.  It was the perfect location for filming these period pirate movies, and they were filmed near the town of Calibishie, our first destination.

We had decided to arrive a few days before the men's meetings so we could see a bit of the countryside, and so we spent our first weekend in the northeast corner in Calibishie Lodges.  My impression from the photos was that it was a tad rustic and had a small pool.  True, our rooms had no a/c, but surprisingly enough we found we didn't need it.  And truly, I prefer to float around in the pool and cool off, not swim laps, so it was fine, especially since it had lounge chairs for Dan's sunning, and a spot of shade for me to nap in.

Not that we had much time to chill out ... we were going to be there for such a short time that we spent a lot of it exploring the area.  Chris, the proprietor of the hotel, knew just where to go.  He told us that some of the lead actors had stayed in that hotel

We drove down the coast to see the Carib Indian territory and when our stomachs started complaining found a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant along the road to eat at ... they were really surprised to see white Americans show up and just eat what they had on the menu.  Their menu offered a choice of either chicken and rice or fish and boiled potatoes.  As usual Dan ordered one and I ordered the other, so we each could try two different dishes.  They were good, but not distinctive enough to ask for the recipes.

Calibishie Lodges only has a few rooms, and Chris really made us feel special.  Every morning we had fresh fruit juice - carambola was my favorite - and our choice of European, American or local-style breakfasts. If we wanted to eat dinner on site, we had but to tell them and the cook would be waiting for us when we returned in the evening.  There was nothing we could ask for that would not be provided if it was in their power.

Our son Chris wanted to see one of the locations used for filming the Pirates movies so Chris sent us on our way with vague directions that consisted of phrases such as, "Turn when you get to the post at the top of such-and-such hill." We were shocked when we found the turnoff and after driving along rutted tracks -- it would be too kind to call it a road -- found the black sand beach that Johnny Depp had run down in one of the Pirates movies.  Chris had something to remember and brag about, and we got some wonderful shots.  It was absolutely beautiful.

If you stay in Dominica you really should take a break from diving and spend a few days at Calibishie Lodges. The hotel's won the island's Hotel of the Year award for a reason.  It's the perfect base to explore the country's Atlantic coast and visit the Carib Indian territory, and you can't honestly say you've seen the country until you've been here.

My Take on Dominica

Tip:  To avoid sounding uneducated, remember to call the country Dom-in-EEK-a, not Do-MIN-i-ka.


Worth a visit?  Absolutely, especially if you're a diver or eco-tourist.  You can't beat it if you love nature, photography or diving.  The down side is that it's currently impossible to get to or from in one day. You'll have to stay overnight in San Juan, Puerto Rico twice, going and coming.  Life can be rough but I'm sure you'll manage, as we did.

Would I live there?  Uh, no.  On a liveability scale of 1 to 5, I'd give it a 2.  I got bored in its sleepy capital city before the week ended.  But then, I grew up outside New York City and I didn't have my diving gear.


People: Dominicans are easy to understand because they speak clear English.  They have a British mentality because it was a British colony until 1978.  They are descended from escaped slaves and dark-skinned, but not once during our 10-day visit did they treat us differently because of our skin color.  It seems they don't have the same color consciousness we've encountered in the U.S.  They're very friendly and family oriented.  But because Dominica has few natural resources apart from its beauty, jobs are hard to come by and they struggle for every penny.

Country:  Stunning, absolutely stunning.  I've heard it said that Dominica is so untouched, it's the only island Columbus would still recognize.  That is probably the main reason two Pirates of the Caribbean movies were filmed there.  Its Atlantic side is lush and green, with dramatic cliffs and picturesque beaches.  Because mountains run down its middle (it's a volcanic island) the Atlantic side gets a lot more rain (and hurricanes) than the Caribbean side, hence the Carib indians were relegated there.  On the other hand, the Caribbean (western) side, where its capital Roseau lies, is hotter and drier, and its beaches are rocky, not sandy.

What I loved:  The owners of Calibishie Lodges who catered to my every whim.  Snorkeling in the bubbly water at Champagne Beach was like being in a glass of champagne.  Seeing fruit trees growing by the side of the road everywhere.  Swimming in water pure enough to bottle straight.   Seeing the map of all its awesome diving spots.  The plentiful waterfalls and hiking spots waiting to be explored.  The beautiful sunsets seen from my hotel's rooftop terrace.  Visiting the Carib territory and seeing a handmade dugout canoe drying by the side of the road.

What I didn't like: The poverty.  The pockmarked roads.  The city is roasting hot, even in October.  Most products and food come from elsewhere so prices are crazy-high. Apart from hotels, few restaurants are open in the evenings.  The Garraway Hotel, where we stayed, doesn't have a pool.

Thoughts: Dominica is a diamond in the rough.  It just needs some polish to show its potential.

Roseau

Although it's Dominica's capital and its largest city, Roseau is only a few blocks wide and deep so it's easy to learn the way around. Bordered on one side by the Caribbean and on the other by mountains, it's a picturesque town so obviously different from America that it's sometimes hard to remember we're on the same continent.

Due to the heat many residents spend their days outside in the shade, chatting to each other or selling their wares to passersby. Though few of the shops I visited were air conditioned, most had fans, and standing near them made the temperature quite manageable.

With husbands in meetings almost every day, my friend Vonce and I had to entertain ourselves (and Joseph). We spent a lot of time wandering about the streets and exploring the shops. Every morning we met for breakfast and took Joseph for a walk. A few blocks from our hotel was a small stand where a man made yummy smoothies from fresh fruit for EC$5 (about $2.80). She and I often bought one and took it on our walks. And shopping and walking were about all that we could do, for the city had only one small museum and no beaches nearby.

By the time lunchtime rolled around we were sweating and ready to return to the air-conditioned comfort of our rooms. It was unfortunate that the Garraway hotel lacked a pool; we really would have appreciated it. Joseph needed a nap after lunch so I spent the afternoons alone wandering the streets with my camera (and sometimes another smoothie). Heaven.

Roseau is small enough that most of it can be seen in a day or two, so by the end of the week our daily routine got really old. We were thrilled when Friday rolled around and the men didn't have meetings; it gave us all a chance to show them around the city and visit the Botanical Gardens with them. Dan and I took lots of photos there.

Dominicans are very family-oriented. For that reason very few sho  ps (or restaurants!) in Roseau are open in the evening. Sundays are particularly difficult and you most likely will have to eat in your hotel restaurant. Dan and I did manage to find a local pizza parlor (green beans are good on pizza!) and ate at a Chinese restaurant twice. I actually enjoyed eating there even though I'm not a fan of Chinese food; the food there tasted nothing like the Chinese we are used to in the States. (Perhaps the owners were from a different part of China?) Whatever. Dan and I ate at KFC on Friday night and discovered they don't have combo meals; everything is a la carte.

Roseau comes alive whenever a cruise ship comes in. Our hotel windows overlooked where the ships dock so we had a chance to watch everyone set up in preparation for the tourists. Vonce and I didn't enjoy our walks as much on those days because we were constantly being mistaken for tourists. It seemed like every guide on the bayfront offered us a tour and that shopkeepers (who normally let us shop in peace) became competitive to get our dollars.

Still, the cruise industry is vital to Dominica's wellbeing. If it doesn't get income from tourism, Dominica may someday be forced to find its income elsewhere, perhaps building the Chavez refinery it has been resisting.  It would be a shame if this island had to sacrifice its greatest resource - its natural beauty - in order to survive.

Sticker Shock

It could be due to an exhorbitant cost of shipping or the tax on imports, but whatever the reason, prices for imported grocery items here are ridiculously high. For instance, a small package of disposable diapers is almost $28.00, a bottle of grape juice runs $12.09, a large Folgers costs $22.19. One ribeye steak I saw was $10, and a pound of pasta sells for about $2.

On the other hand, fruit grows abundantly on trees everywhere. We saw quite a few people walking along the road munching on the ripe, juicy guavas that were in season.  Sugar and vanilla extract are far cheaper in Dominica than in the US, as is the rum ($2.64/quart).  Maybe it's best to embrace island life and live as Dominicans do, enjoying locally produced food instead of trying to eat like an American.

Dominica

"Dominica?  Where the heck is that?" I asked when Dan first told me he had to go there on business.  I'd heard of the Dominican Republic, but it was hard to fathom that two countries could have such similar names.

As it turns out, Dominica is a tiny Caribbean island between Guadeloupe and Martinique.  It's pronounced Dom-in-EEK-a.  And we would be there with Dan's business partner Richard and his wife and son.

Most people wouldn't choose Dominica as a destination.  First off, you can't get there in one day, you have to fly to Puerto Rico and then fly to Dominica the next afternoon.   Plus, there are few sandy beaches and therefore no resorts on the entire island.  (Can you say untouched?)  Its prime resource is its pristine beauty so it's a mecca for divers and eco-tourists.

As we descended between the forested mountains Richard said it reminded him of flying into 'Nam.  But there was no gunfire to greet us, just a small airport and an office where we picked up a rental car.  We took off for our first destination: Calibishe, on the northeast coast.  The guys might have business meetings every day next week, but this weekend we all planned to relax and enjoy ourselves in this country.