Home Sweet Home?

After living in Japan for over three years, I'm not sure where home is, or if it even exists. For now, I'm settled in the high desert town of Flagstaff (pop. 60,000, elev. 7000 feet), not far from the Grand Canyon. Generally, I'm liking it here, though I do miss Japan. Anyway, this place is paradise for climbers, hikers, and cyclists. It boasts crags within ten minutes of town, hiking in the city itself, and endless miles of scenery that can be enjoyed on foot, bike, or by car. While I await the potential job call backs (keep your fingers crossed), I spend my days hiking, climbing, and reading some good books (I'm into "When Titans Clashed", a pretty intriguing account of the Germans getting mauled by the Red Army in WWII). Here are a few photos from a recent hike to Sedona, a land of red rock canyons about 30 miles south of here. Incidentally, I hope to get a job with the Forest Service down there....what an office.

If anyone wants to stop in for a visit or send a postcard, I'm at:



306 W. Forest Avenue, Apt. A
Flagstaff, AZ 86001
USA

Happy Holidays!

Retroactive Blogging Continues: Halloween

Halloween '06

I felt I needed to Church-it-up on this occasion. No time like Halloween to fight the Devil.

Father Tris and Sister Danny....we're so going to Hell.

Father Tris with Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson's piece. See how the cross glows? God likes handguns apparently.

Coming Home Slowly

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
-Mark Twain


As some friends already know, I finished my Japan stint in early August, hung out there for another month, then went home the long way via Taiwan, Malaysia, Vietnam and China. I could write some long, overly descriptive narrative of that amazing trips happenings, but instead I'll let brevity and the photos do all the talking. Well, I'll probably still write a lot.....

I was only in Taiwan for about 16 hours...enough time to see a few things in Taipei but nothing really worth writing about. Sorry to all those Taiwanese nationalists out there. I'm sure it's a cool place for those with the time to explore.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia was where things really kicked off. I climbed a little bit at the Batu Caves with some local Malaysians. We also partied in the city at places most tourists never know exist. After a few days there I was really craving some nature, so I hopped a suicidal bus to the east coast of the peninsula and then took a boat to the Perhentian islands. Again, I'm not even going to dive into how spectacular this place was because the pictures will tell a better story. After three unreal days spent kayaking, snorkeling, and bouldering, I left the tropical paradise for the Cameron Highlands. Though touristy as can be, the hill country was a welcome respite from the heat and humidity of pretty much everywhere else in Malaysia. Two days and another bus ride later, I was back in KL. I visited an orchid garden and the National Mosque in the Lake Gardens Park. The very next day I flew south to Sabah, one of Malaysia's two Borneo states. I ended up in Semporna, a not so sparkling gem whose only real attribute is its proximity to the diving mecca of Sipidan. I spent another five unreal, surreal, days there, a large majority of which was underwater. I dived with giant sea turtles, white tipped and grey sharks, lion fish, schools of barracuda, several kinds of rays, about a billion different fish, and the occasional giant lobster or octopus. In the process, I managed to get my advanced open water diving certificate, another notch on the belt of living.

Here are the Malaysia and Borneo (diving) photo links:
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/occam79/album/576460762347764748
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/occam79/album/576460762347755772

"Traveling is like flirting with life. It's like saying, 'I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.'"
-Lisa St. Aubin de Teran

I left Malaysia on September 19 for Vietnam. Two years ago I visited the northern portion of this very long country with my buddy Dave (even though he's Canadian I still let him hang out with me). This time around I had the southern half in my sights. Unlike Malaysia, which has both traditional sightseeing and eco-tourism opportunities, most of souther Vietnam offers only the former. This was okay with me initially since I had gotten exhausted diving in Borneo and planned on two weeks of climbing in China. However, I soon found that the sightseeing required almost constant traveling, never staying in one place for more than 48 hours. Believe me, such is more exhausting than climbing most mountains, so I was and am less than psyched about my time in Vietnam. I did have some cool experiences, saw some interesting stuff, and met some great people from all around the world, but I'd much rather have spent my time in one place than in seven. Plus, the southern Vietnamese seemed to be much more aggressive when it came to hawking their goods than their northern cousins. Nice region, lots of history, great food, but the South is just not for a guy like me. I'm happy I went there and saw everything, especially the War sites, but even now I can't muster up the energy to ramble on about this portion of my trip. I'll bow out and let the photos take over:
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/occam79/album/576460762347765909 (as a few photos will show, I did get in some hiking up in Dalat)

"Man always travels along precipices... His truest obligation is to keep his balance."
-Pope John Paul II


Two weeks of sightseeing left me hungry for some adventure, something slightly off the tourist track. China provided. I spent the first night there in a city called Shenzhen, which is right across the border from Hong Kong. The wild thing about China is that you can routinely enter a city you've never heard of even though it's larger than New York. Shenzhen is one of those towns. I didn't plan on staying there but a lack of bus tickets to my final destination left me no choice. I shared a room with another stranded backpacker, took in a few sites, and then jumped on the next evening's bus to Yangshuo. Known for its infinite karst limestone towers, Yangshuo has been a tourist hot spot and rock climber's dream every since the late Todd Skinner started bolting routes in 1993. I spent about 9 days climbing at several different crags with a southwestern good ol' boy named Doug and later Dr. Yoli from So. Cal. It was good times: wake up around 8 or 9, eat a big breakfast, cycle out to the rock, climb all day, maybe go for a swim in the river, cycle back dirty and tired, shower, eat some delicious home-cooked food at our guest house, watch a DVD, sleep, repeat. There's nothing better than going to bed dead tired with a stomach full of good food, knowing the next day will be just as satisfying as today. Makes you feel more productive than any job can.

I ended my China trip in Hong Kong where I got in a fight with Bruce Lee. He was pretty fast, but I feel that I won that battle. Also saw some interesting fung shui influenced architecture (same as for interior design, except that the building themselves must be in harmony), took a tea drinking class (apparently it's more complex than just pouring it down your throat), took in the night view from Victoria Peak, and heard a Dixie band which brought the house down.

All China photos are here: http://new.photos.yahoo.com/occam79/album/576460762347754895

"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train."
-Oscar Wilde


That's about all. I've been in the States since 10/20, still adjusting after three years living and traveling abroad, but overall I'm liking things. I hope the following turns out to be true:

"A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it."
-George Moore

Retroactive Blogging

It's been a while since I've written much. I only recently organized and labeled the photos from my 2 month Malaysia, Vietnam, and China trip. I've yet to write anything about that but intend to do so by the end of the month. There are also several posts from my jobless and final month in Japan and a Halloween photo or two that deserve to see the light of day. Expect some retroactive updates in the weeks ahead.

Recommended Climbing Sites

As rock climbing grows in popularity, so do the Internet sources pertaining to it. Yes, there is the ever famous rockclimbing.com, a site with links to climbing areas just about anywhere in the world, forums on every climbing topic imaginable, and some killer photos. But with size comes chaos and rc.com is a bit of a mess, making a nightmare out of navigating for specific issues or even finding the location of one's own past posts. The site also lacks the depth that it could have if more energy was devoted to specific climbing areas and routes as opposed to such topics as when to retire a rope. When looking for more detailed crag info, check out this new site:

www.mountainproject.com

This source, which is admittedly still being developed, has all the forums, photos, and crag info offered by rc.com minus the cluster. MP.com offers detailed crag info in an easy to understand format such as this Arizona spot: http://mountainproject.com/v/arizona/jacks_canyon/lost_world_at_jacks_canyon/105799753 .
Its coolest feature however is the user profile option. Anyone who so desires can create a detailed log of where they've climbed and what routes they've conquered. Here's one of my friend's pages: http://mountainproject.com/u/yoli/105861545?action=personalpage .....hope it's okay that I posted that Yoli....you rock Mad Dog!

Another easy-to-use and very helpful rock climbing-related source is http://www.climbinginjuries.com/. Like the modern classic "Snake on a Plane", this site delivers exactly what its address suggests and nothing more. Why bother searching through the forums of chockstone.com or rc.com when the three mostly common climbing injuries are catalogued at one place? Verdict: climb 'til you are injured (it will happen at some point.... that or you don't climb enough and should probably not quit your day job yet), and then exploit the hell out of this gem.

My final suggestion is hardly one I would call useful, but it is unique and it definitely puts the "R" in re-use. For what to do with your old and un-climbable rope, take a look at: http://www.roperugs.com/. Instead of just tossing his old ropes, this dude got creative and started making door mats out of them, a concept that makes perfect sense given how durable and long lasting our live lines are. He also make pet toys, leashes (I assume for dogs but to each his/her own), and Christmas wreaths. You can send him your own rope or order a product made from one of his. This entrepreneur definitely gets an "A+" for creativity, originality, and environmental sustainability.

Zombie Mannequin Holocaust

I often cycle in the hills outside of town. Like anywhere else in the world, "Hill People" tend to differ quite a bit from their townie brethren. Old cars blend with vines to become nesting grounds for God knows what, neglected kittens abound, and the homes are a little worse for wear. Even something as common-place as a scare crow-mannequin, may take on a frightening twist.

Look at that thing! It looks leperous. What happened to its fingers? Bitten off by another creature of the night no doubt. Let us hope that they don't become day walkers.

The Triumphant Return of Extraordinarily Ordinary

When you first arrive in a foreign country, you go through a honey moon sort of period where everything is extraordinary and little bad can be found. With time, a routine sets in and with it, the reality that every place has it's flaws. Those unique facets of life in Japan become mundane, easily passed over. The digi cam, the one you bought in Japan because this country supposedly has the best electronics on Earth (true, but all can be bought for the same or cheaper in the States), becomes tragically underused.

As I ready myself for greener pastures outside of Japan, the mundane has suddenly become novel yet again. If you don't believe me, look at the recent posts. Mannequin scare crows, gyoza.......no, I'm not bored, just nostalgic. I want to take a tangible record of the little things back home with me, something to look at down the road. So, I hereby launch part 1 in what is sure to be a half-assed series of Japan through the eyes of a confused foreign.

Behold! The effects of a shamelessly commercial society hopped up on a language they don't really understand:

Left- T-Shirt. I've heard a similar line used about Jesus. Instead, we here in Japan embrace Mule. He's just as good as Jesus and will carry your pack if you get tired while hiking the Grand Canyon.

Below- Hooded Sweatshirt. No comment needed due to a 10/10 rating on the bizareness scale.

Pencil Case. This is so cool I had to post the picture twice. Owned by an 8th grader who I'm sure doesn't smoke weed, nor even know what it is. I've seen senior citizens wearing sweatshirts covered with pot leaves here. Complete ignorance makes for trendy fashion I guess. Other great pencil cases that I've seen have said, "Your pretty face is going to hell", "When I die, bury face down so that the world can kiss my ass", and "Man made booze, God made weed.....who do you trust?". All belonged to junior high students who had no idea what their pencil case slogans meant. Classic Japan.

Eight Bites of Heaven

Not far from where I live, in snack bar-infested Takeo, sits Japan's closest equivalent to America's once ubiquitous greasy spoon diner: Gyoza Kaikan. You'll smell it before you see it, a result of vapors that can only come from the incessant boiling of pork broth. Though it's repugnant, that aroma signals the presence of delicious ramen. As the name suggests,this particular ramen shop, with its fading 1970s decor and beaten-looking staff, serves up more than just ramen. In fact, it's specialty is actually something called gyoza, pork dumplings that originated in China but have long been popular in Japan. Price and quality vary, but the Takeo shop seems to dominant both categories. Eight bites of heaven, which are much plumper than their contemporaries, cost a mere 350 yen, or about $3.05.

A plate of seven gyoza...the eighth was acting up and had to be made an example of.

For anyone who gets lost while traveling in Japan, ending up in Saga-ken's Takeo-cho, Gyoza Kaikan is located near the snack bar complex along the yet to be completed bullet train line. If you get to that area but still can't find it, follow the incongruous scent of boiling ramen 'til you hit the jack pot.

Oita Trip

Myself, Seb, and four members of my adult English club, aptly named "MEET" (Meet and Enjoy English Together.....classic), went on a brief excursion to nearby Oita-ken last month. Oita, along with neighboring Kumamoto, is home to Kuju-Aso National Park. It's not a national park in the western sense as it's hardly protected; there are towns, ranches, and farms within the "protected" area. Still, it's quite scenic and is has some of the best hot springs in Japan, which in turn would put it in the running for best hot springs world wide. We also indulged in a mid-day chicken bbq, some ground golf (I suck!), a visit to a natural spring, and an old-school soba shop that allowed us to make our own wasabi.

They say (and I've yet to learn who "they" are) that a picture is worth a thousand words. Why fight conventional wisdom by verbose narration? Without further adeu, here are some shots of our wonderful time.

Grass Sledding, hokey, but fun.

Hiking on the trail to Kuju-san, the tallest mountain in Kyushu Proper

Horse meat butcher shop: This is a local delicassie, and I've got to say, I think it's delicious. The horse meat, called "basashi" (a compound of "ba" for horse plus "sashimi", as in sushi served without rice) is served raw and eaten with ginger and soy sauce. I'd liken it to cold pastrami, though not as spicy.

Group Shot: Front bench - Hiromi and Seb

Rear bench - Harasaki-san, Mabro, Kawachan, and Me (not sure why I look so stern...)

Randimonium Japan

Tori Gates, Yutoku Shrine

This thing flew right out of Metamorphisis and

into our BBQ. Terrifying. The bug, not Peter.

Capsule Hotel, Osaka

Escaped mental patients, Miyazaki.

Japan's ubiquitous electronic toilet

Cherry Blossom

Ant's Best Friend

Stuffed wild boar, a little worse for wear

Jolly in Bali

Spring Break ’06 led me to the island paradise of Bali. I’d heard how crowded and touristy Bali was, how I’d hate it, but the rainy season and previous terrorist attacks proved those predictions false. Along with Seb, a half-French Englishman living in Karatsu, Japan, I started my trip in Ubud. We stayed at a dirt cheap family-run guesthouse, sharing a basic room with a number of insects and a mouse. At approximately 3.50 USD per person per night (including breakfast), we had no reason to complain.

Ubud is Bali’s cultural capitol, and for an island whose every corner is oozing with tradition and spirituality, that means a lot. Ubud is full of art galleries and museums, is surrounded by temples, and is host to nightly dances celebrating ancient Hindu texts with a Balinese tilt. We took in three of these dances while in Ubud, one for each night there. The Legong dance is graceful and sad, the story of maiden taken captive by an arrogant king who refuses to release her and is later killed in battle.

In the Barong dance the good Barong, a strange half-lion, half-dog animal, goes to battle with the evil Rangda, a sort of witch.

The final dance we saw was the epic Ramayana Ballet. Though the newest of the Balinese dances, it too is based on ancient text. Like the Legong, this dance tells the story of kidnapping of a maiden and the effort of her family, friends, and several guardian gods to steal her back. It was a bit too complex for my taste with lots of scene changes and characters coming in and out. Very beautiful nonetheless.

For those that don’t know, the Balinese are Hindu in the world’s largest Islamic country. At one time Hinduism was a potent force throughout the Indonesian archipelago, but most islands became Islamic from the fifteenth century onward. As Islam spread and the Hindu kingdoms collapsed, many of the intelligentsia and Brahmana (priests) fled to Bali, taking a rich Hindu tradition with them. Bali experienced a sort of renaissance, its traditional animism fusing with this influx, creating a unique and vibrant brand of Hinduism that thrives to this day. Like traditional Hinduism, the Balinese believe in the trinity of gods Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu, but they also believe that various spirits are ever present and prolific. Abundant shrines and daily offerings (shown below) to appease these entities are a constant reminder of this.

Honestly, you can’t escape from Balinese religion even if you want to: it is everywhere. Each village typically has three temples, one for the village founders, one for the dead, and one for the spirits that protect the villagers. These temples are usually only open on the full moon or bi-annually, both of which are occasions for celebration and ceremony. In addition, each family’s home has its own temple, always in the corner of the walled compound closest to Gunung Agung, Bali’s highest and most revered mountain. The family temple holds such significance that it is used to identify oneself in place of a surname. That’s right, the Balinese don’t have actual surnames; they go by “temple”. On a side note, Balinese first names are given by birth order: Wayan (first child), Made (second), Nyoman (third), and Ketut (fourth). The cycle repeats itself for the fifth child onward. Personalized names do exist, but are used only amongst friends.


But back to Balinese Hinduism and particularly temples. We saw a slew of temples during our three days in Ubud, and had to wear a sarong (think skirt) to all. As with the cathedrals of Europe, once you’ve seen a few their attraction starts to wane. However, unlike many cathedrals, the temples of Bali tend to be a bit more varied. Goa Gajah dates to the 11th century. It contains a T-shaped cave with a demon’s mouth acting as a doorway. An earthquake in 1917 destroyed one shrine, tossing it in a nearby river where it lies to this day.

Tampaksiring’s Tirta Empul is one of Bali’s most important temples. Its spring feeds a crystal clear pool teeming with fish which in turn supplies bathing water to those seeking cures for a variety of ailments.

The town of Bangli is home to Pura Kehen, a large temple perched on a terraced hillside. The design is said to be a miniature version of Pura Besakih, Bali’s grandest and most important temple on the slopes of Gunung Agung.

Now these were all spectacular temples, but my favorite was the temple complex known as the Monkey Forest. It’s not a clever name; there are monkeys. 128 macaques to be exact. They have the run of the place, charged with guarding the ground’s three separate temples and numerous shrines. I’m not sure if they were actually doing this, but they were extremely aggressive towards anyone who had food. I didn’t make this mistake. I just laughed at others who did. This alpha male swiped two bananas off a screaming Russian woman.

Below: Me and an ancient monkey. He's not holding a banana in case you didn't notice.

Aside from temples, there are a few historical sites more of archaeological significance. The serene but rarely visited Yeh Pulu is near Goa Gajah. It consists of fourteen stone panels displaying scenes of a hunt, a royal court, and certain deities. Two little girls were our guides.

We also spent some time in and around Ubud taking in Bali’s famous rice terraces. Living in Japan’s countryside, I’m no stranger to rice fields. Bali’s however, lacked the cement culverts, metal piping, and pumps that dot Japan’s farms. In other words, the land looked unmolested, yet orderly and thriving. One tour we were on explained the particulars of managing the terraces. Water flow is regulated by a local chapter of farmers. Anyone who wants to farm must become a member. Typically, the farmers living at the bottom of the hillside will be in charge of managing the water, the logic being that they are unlikely to mismanage it as doing so would harm those receiving the water last the most, i.e. themselves. Also, most large fields are owned by wealthier families who contract labor to plant, maintain and harvest the rice. These workers are paid not in cash but in the very rice they harvest; another incentive to do a good job.

Leaving Ubud, we went south to the island of Nusa Lembongan. The plan was for me to snorkel, Seb to dive, and the both of us to relax on the beach, playing cards, throwing the Frisbee, that sort of thing. It didn’t happen, though through no fault of our own. First, Thursday was Nyepia, the day of rest. An annual event, Nyepia ushers in the New Year according to the traditional Balinese calendar. In the weeks leading up to it, townspeople make elaborate sculptures of demons, bring them to the town square dressed in their ceremonial garments, make speeches followed by offerings to the gods, and then burn their sculptures. It is thought that this purifies the land for the upcoming New Year, though as most of the sculptures are now made of polystyrene and other synthetic materials, it’s likely not working.

The following day, Nyepia, is one of complete inactivity. Nothing is open. No one leaves their homes. Tourists everywhere must stay in their hotel rooms. Inactivity. The reason for this is that the Balinese believe that evil spirits descend on the island during Nyepia. The hope is that when the demons find its streets deserted, its fields and temples empty, they’ll assume that Bali is uninhabited and return to the netherworld. So, we too were inactive. Yes, it pretty much sucked, but at least the tradition has some interesting logic behind it.

Demon sculptures of Nyepia with Reggae influence

Did I mention that it poured on Nyepia? Well, it did. And on Friday too. Visibility being nil for diving, we opted to get off the island and head for the pseudo posh resort town of Sanur. Got a nice hotel room there. One with hot water and cable TV, felt we deserved it. But we really just deserved more rain because it rained on Saturday too. We flew out that night.

Overall, Bali was a great vacation, exactly what I needed minus the rain. For anyone heading there, I’d recommend to avoid Kuta and Sanur, head for Ubud or somewhere off the beaten track. And despite the rain, I don’t mean to knock Nusa Lembongan. It supposedly has fine reefs which compared to the rest of Bali are relatively un-dived. And a monkey.