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.