May 28, 2007

Beijing (CHINA)

Visiting Tsinghua University and Meeting Fellow REU Students

I am at the point where I feel guilty sleeping past 8am, but today I decided to be audacious and didn't start my day off until 9:00 - my  body simply cannot get enough rest these days. For breakfast, I grabbed a curry baozi (shown to right) from a street vendor, and stopped in a quickie mart for a bottle of orange juice. Every time I visit China I force myself to make a conscious effort to get enough vitamins and minerals, and orange juice is the best-tasting method.

I spent the next couple hours touring Beijing's few remaining hutong districts (traditional Beijing homes that are now protected to preserve the country's rapidly vanishing culture). Afterward, it was back to Tsinghua University where Max served as my campus-guide. One of the first things we decided to do was visit the newly constructed lecture halls and look in on a few classes.

Funnily enough, as we left the building I ran into a friend I made while studying in Hong Kong! I hadn't seen or heard from him in nearly a year so it was a remarkable coincidence.

Who was it that said "lightning never strikes twice"?

Well, only fifteen minutes later I heard a bike come screeching to a halt as Jessie, another friend of mine, ran over to chat. She was off to a laboratory and couldn't join us for lunch, but we couldn't believe our good fortunate in running into each other. I promised to return at the end of the summer so we can have a proper chat, and I could not help smiling at having such amazing friends.

Max and I ate lunch at one of the campus cafeterias, but the food was somewhat disappointing (as university food so often is). He then continued showing me around campus, including his dormitory - which is a room divided amongst four people - and the campus library. I found the library particularly interesting because the only economics and government books I could find dealt with socialism and communism. The few novels that were on display had publication dates from the 1950s, and they had the wear-worn look to prove it.

By 4pm I was in a taxi with all my bags heading for the hotel where I would rendezvous with the other REU students. The group of 14 students spent several days getting to know one another in New York, so I am well behind the curve. Fortunately, they are a great bunch of people who took the time to find out information about me and it was like we never missed a beat.

After settling into the hotel room we went out for a group dinner at a local restaurant. There were a couple vegetarians at my table, which is always an interesting experience when trying to order food in Chinese. I was too worn out to worry about such things, and when I finally hit the bed after at 11:00pm I quickly passed out.

May 27, 2007

Beijing (CHINA)

Singapore --> Bangkok --> Beijing, and Dinner with a Great Friend

Less than 12 hours after landing in Singapore and I was riding in the back seat of Hui Shi's Audi A6 heading for Singapore's Changgi airport. Funnily enough, I never got to see the sun on this return to Singapore - I landed at 7pm yesterday and reached the airport at 6:30am this morning. I felt bad for Hui Shi and her parents because all they got out of my stay was a bottle of wine and a free breakfast at the airport.

Yesterday, Hui Shi's parents were kind enough to pick me up from the airport and take me out for dinner. Hui Shi was working at a large fish tank convention (sounds silly, but it was an international event), so she didn't get home until after 10pm. We had a lot of catching up to do as she recently graduated from the prestigious National University of Singapore (NUS) with a degree in Mathematics, and it is time for her to sort out her career. We stayed awake until after 2am while I tried to talk her into a career in banking, but from the sound of it she will take another few years to realize my advice is perfect...

As for my flights today, I had a quick layover in Bangkok, Thailand, but I was too tired to do anything than walk directly to my terminal. The one thing I did notice en route were all the advertisements of the Thai King. For any who may not know, this is the same king who outlawed youTube.com because of video disrespecting him, and a Swiss man was recently imprisoned for 20 years after spray-painting graffiti over one of the king's pictures.

I landed in Beijing in the late afternoon and hopped in a taxi to a small hotel. The lodging wasn't as cheap as the dormitories I am accustomed to, but I have too much luggage to risk staying with other people. Besides, tomorrow afternoon the other 14 REU students will arrive from the United States and my summer REU session will begin.

After dropping off my bags and taking a quick shower, I called a friend who studies at Tsinghua University (China's MIT equivalent) and we agreed to meet for dinner. I opted to take public transport to reach Tsinghua's campus, so I was forced to ask for directions the entire way. I had to switching trains several times and do a great deal of walking as Beijing is a sprawled out city. The one bit of good news is the Beijing public transport system has improved dramatically since last summer (from 2 metro lines to 5) as part of Beijing's remarkable push to be ready for the 2008 Olympics. And trust me, when the Chinese set their minds on accomplishing something it is a good bet they will succeed!

After an hour and a half I finally met Chen Xu (English name, Max) outside the train station. He treated me to dinner at a fancy Yunnan restaurant, and as is Chinese custom we ordered enough food for an entire army. I tried a new dish with dinner which was basically rice, meat, and herbs masterfully cooked inside a bamboo shoot.

It was great seeing Max again, and we had a lot of catching up to do. He is literally one of Tsinghua's top students, which basically means he is the best China has to offer! Not only that, but the majority of China's elite CCP members are former Tsinghua students - including current present President Hu Jintao who studied Civil Engineering at Tsinghua. I would not be surprised if Max follows in similar footsteps because he has the work ethic, brains, and motivation to accomplish great things.

Unfortunately, Chinese universities do not end for another month, and Max will be doing an internship in Mongolia for the summer. We agreed to meet tomorrow for lunch so he could show me around Tsinghua campus, and he will also visit Dalian after his internship ends at the end of the summer.

I caught the last train back into downtown Beijing, and after another hour and half of traveling I finally settled into bed for the night.

I could really use a vacation.

May 24, 2007

Puerto Galera (PHILIPPINES)

Relaxing in the Philippines, a Reptile Farm, and Filipino Beauties

I spent the last few days relaxing on the Filipino beaches and chatting with locals. The beaches have been absolutely deserted and the atmosphere is perfect. I have needed this mini-vacation for quite some time so please excuse me for taking a few days off from any adventures. Suffice to say my life has consisted of cold San Miguel beer, meat on a stick, fresh fish flavored to perfection, swimming in crystal clear waters, pristine sunrises and sunsets, and plenty of good reading under the sun.

The only excitement worth mentioning  is that I visited a reptile farm used by several German scientists - the highlight of which was the chamber of snakes. It was an entire room containing the world's deadliest snakes, including: a king cobra, a black mamba, a green mamba, spitting cobras, vipers, diamondbacks, boa constrictors, and coral snakes. The spitting cobras scared me the most because they hissed and would randomly strike in my direction. It may not sound so bad, but when they strike from the corner of your eye it can really get your heart pumping. Add in the fact that there was only wire separating us, and you can understand why I had to be careful to protect my eyes and not get too close.

Otherwise, I befriended the owner of a local pharmacy, and both she and the girls that work with her have shown me around the island. The locals have used me as a source of gossip - the woman is very popular among the single men along White Beach, but she has been rejecting their advances for two years now. Perhaps the picture below shows why they are so angry they can't date her...

May 21, 2007

Puerto Galera (PHILIPPINES)

My First Diving Experience

I had to meet my English dive instructor, Mike, for diving lessons at 6:30am this morning. His wife, a stunning Filipino woman, made us a full breakfast while we went over the schedule for the diving lessons. Rather than pay USD$300, Mike would allow me to do an "introduction to diving" for only USD $50, but which included an actual 18 meter dive later in the day.

There was an Irish man, Steven, who was also doing this course and we watched videos for a couple hours before heading off in the boat to learn the basics of diving. I caught on very quickly once we were in the water, and never needed to resurface through all the trials (clearing my mask, losing my oxygen supply, and so on). I was beginning to understand the thrill people talk about when they describe the wonders of breathing underwater!

After Mike felt sufficiently confident in our abilities (Steven was having a tough time breathing underwater), we climbed aboard the boat and headed to a dive site. The water was becoming choppy, so we found a small inlet along the coast. I was eager to get back in the water and complete the 18 meter dive, so I leaned back over the side of the boat and confidently immersed myself in a watery paradise.

I have seen plenty of videos and heard endless accounts about how "it is a whole other world below the ocean's surface", but I never appreciated what this meant until I experienced it for myself. More importantly, I have always been terrified of sharks, but now I wanted nothing more than to swim with one!

After adjusting my air tanks so I was neutrally buoyant I began slowly descending down the buoy chain. Mike started leading me toward the reef, but I was having a hard time clearing my left ear. The ear has always caused me problems when flying, and I was suffering from a small cold that only exasperated matters. I have been warned many times about the dangers of "forcing it", so I used my better judgment and took my time in descending. Eventually, I made it to the ocean floor and followed Mike through the reef. It was only he and I diving because Steven was having a tough time with the mental aspect of breathing underwater. I saw plenty of colorful fish, sublime reef formations, a sea turtle (which doesn't seem amazing until you actually see one in the water), and enormous pink clams. One of them snapped at me when I swam for a close look, but I pulled away just before it jerked shut.

My oxygen supply surprised Mike as I was consciously maintaining normal breathing habits, so I had roughly 50 minutes of underwater diving. When we climbed back aboard the boat I couldn't stop raving about what a great time diving is. I imagine Mike hears this all the time, but he wouldn't be teaching if the thrill ever got old.

We began heading back to White Beach, but the ocean waters were choppy. We were forced to dock in another small inlet because the danger of flipping was becoming quite serious (I had video but I lost everything when my computer crashed). Rather than wait around all day in the boat, I waded ashore and went into the town center to find an ATM. As always, all ATMs were "out of service" and I was forced to use a Western Union service that charged me 6% on the money I withdrew. It was highway robbery, but I had to pay Mike and was left with little choice.

Between my ear problems and the high cost of diving I decided to discontinue the course until I have more money.

But take it from me: diving is worth every penny!

May 20, 2007

Puerto Galera (PHILIPPINES)

A Philippine Paradise

Yesterday afternoon I bought a bus ticket to the long-distance boat terminal, so by 7am this morning I had already checked out of my room, eaten breakfast, and walked across town to the bus terminal. Seemingly no matter how hard I try I cannot get away from all the early mornings (I promise backpacking is anything but a vacation). The only positive is that the sun rises at 5:20 each morning and the country comes to life shortly after.

I was happy to be leaving Manila because the poverty is tough to see. The train stations are littered with bloated children and the streets are crowded with people desperate to make money any way they can. It is a shame because Philippinos are easy going and friendly, but with so many people in the country (and with so many who flock to Manila) there aren't enough facilities to handle everyone. Thus rises the dark side of the city.

By noon I reached the boat terminal, and after asking around for the best beaches I was directed to a boat destined for White Beach, near Puerto Galera. The boats were all rigged with bamboo stabilizers, but there is no safety when typhoon season hits, and most travel services shut down. Fortunately, I am a couple months ahead and don't have to worry about braving some of the world's most violent storms.

The boat pulled onto White Beach  later in the afternoon (from here on out I can tell time doesn't matter), and I searched around before settling on a small bungalow 50m inland. Dorms don't exist here, but I don't mind because the price of a nice chalet is every bit as cheap - especially considering I am staying over the course of several days outside the peak weekend time.

After dropping off my bags and taking a cold shower I set off to explore the beach. It was still Sunday so there were hordes of weekenders from Manila swarming the beaches and cafes. It wasn't the deserted Philippine beach I had imagined, but hour-by-hour the beach cleared out as people caught boats back to the mainland.

I came across a small cafe perched atop a rocky outset that advertised diving lessons. This is something I have been interested in pursuing for two reasons: 1) everyone I have met in Southeast Asia has raved about the joys of diving, and 2) I want to overcome my fear of sharks. So, I talked with the dive master and agreed to begin my diving lessons the following morning. The price is incredibly cheap (by Western diving standards), but still a lot for a backpacker like myself, so I arranged to begin with an introductory dive to make sure this is what I want. We would begin the following morning at - you guessed it - 7am.

I simply cannot escape these mornings.

Fortunately, I cannot escape beautiful sunsets, either...

May 19, 2007

Manila (PHILIPPINES)

Exploring Manila: Jeepneys, Police Presence, the National Park, and Intramuros

I was only entitled to a twelve hour stay at the motel, so by 8am I was out the door in search of public transport to the more "traveler friendly" part of Manila. I passed a newspaper stand with a particular headline catching my eye: "15 dead as explosion rocks train station."

The country is in the process of counting votes from last weekend's elections - during which time 101 people were killed in mass rioting - and every store in Manila is protected by at least one security guard. I actually felt quite safe because it seemed like every 5th person was an armed officer on the streets. At more popular places like McDonalds, 7-11, hotels, and train stations the police actually wield shotguns and M-16 carbines. I would have tried snapping a few pictures, but I don't think safety is an issue that is taken lightly. And rightly so.

After clearing a stiff security check at the train station, I found my way onto Manila's Light Rail Transit. I was crammed in with the rest of the morning commuters, but a local directed me off at the right stop. After a bit of a walk I came across a string of cheap lodging where I checked into the worst room I could find because it was the cheapest and I don't plan on staying in Manila for more than a night.

Afterward, I was desperate for a cup of coffee (it has been a wearying 15 hours since I landed), and I also took advantage of the wi-fi to post a few updates and send off emails. To all those who responded to my one-year anniversary email, thank you for taking the time to write. There were a few suggestions I will work on in the coming weeks and some additions will be made to the webpage - particularly, an answer to the why question. It is a big topic, so I will take my time in properly formulating a response.

I set off on a walking tour of the historical part of Manila. Along the waterfront was the US Embassy, and similar to when I was concerned over my safety in Indonesia I tried stopping in to register. Unfortunately, the embassy was closed for the weekend, and pictures were forbidden for safety reasons. Nevertheless I felt a strong sense of pride looking at the United States of America wording at the marble entrance.

I next passed through the national park of Manila where structures like the National Library and National Monument are located, along with a collection of war memorials. Remember: an independent Philippines is a relatively new development. For the past several hundred years the country has endured the brutal  conquistadores of Spain, the colony builders from America, the Japanese occupation, and it served as the battle ground for some of WWII's bloodiest battles - 100,000 civilians died in the liberation of Manila alone. In more recent years there has been a mini-civil war raging in the Southern Philippines with widespread kidnappings, modern pirates (not a joke), and of course assassinations.

In the park, I passed a group of men playing chess and a variant of checkers, but I opted out of playing because money invariably changes hands at the end of every game. This isn't the kind of stuff I want to get caught up in, so instead I watched on chatting about baseball: from where Joe Torre's future lies to whether Big Poppy's heart will hold out.

American influence is huge in the Philippines.

In the afternoon I reached the oldest part of Manila: a walled community called Intramuros, which was built by the Spanish hundreds of years ago. I was surprised to see a golf course skirting the city's walls, but such inconsistencies are common in many Asian cities - be it glaring wealth in the face of dire poverty, architectural masterpieces surrounded by expansive shanty towns, or historical integrity playing second fiddle to outright capitalism.

Enough preaching: I happily take the good with the bad and accept each place as it is.

I passed the oldest church in the Philippines, and I was lucky enough to observe a traditional Catholic wedding in progress. The women were all wearing soft pink dresses while the men wore airy cream shirts or tuxedos, but no one seemed to mind me watching as long as I was discreet about it. The most touching moment came at the end when the bride and groom released two doves in union and all the women through flowers on the bride and groom.

I continued on through Intramuros and I passed the oldest stone church in the Philippines (also built by the Spanish). It was interesting to read the five prior churches built on this location were all destroyed - either by fire or earthquake - but they kept rebuilding and, presumably, improving upon earlier designs. The final product towers over the surrounding town.

At the far end of the walled city was the old Spanish fort where all important dignitaries lived. Despite being bombarded by the Americans during the liberation of the Philippines, there was still much to be seen.

The highlight of the fort were all the exhibits designated to the national hero of the Philippines, Rizal, who was a Renaissance man (doctor, poet, writer, fencer, and he spoke several languages) with an unwavering love of his country. The Spanish hanged him for his writings about the unjust nature of the Catholic Church and the brutal Spanish rulers.

I passed a few boys in the park who were throwing their shoes into the branches of a tree, hoping to knock loose fruits. Here is the video (if anyone knows how to rotate the video I would appreciate the help):

For dinner I searched out "The Hobbit" restaurant, which was recommended by Allen back at the KK airport. Although the food was nothing to write home about, the staff were a great deal of fun and the atmosphere was easy going. How often do you come across a restaurant where everyone is "vertically challenged" (I'm not sure what the politically correct term is because such rules apply mostly in Western countries).

May 18, 2007

Manila (PHILIPPINES)

A Rough Landing in Manila

A little after two o'clock in the afternoon I boarded a plane for the Philippines and my adventure in Borneo came to an end.

However, even my time at the airport wasn't without incident - I ran into the Singaporean couple, Allen and Irene, who I met the morning I climbed Mount Kinabalu. Their flight back to the mainland was delayed several hours, which was a great turn of luck (for me, at least) because it gave us the chance to chat once more. They kindly invited me over for a barbeque the night I return to Singapore.

I hit the Philippine tarmac (a little too literally) at 5pm, and after an hour of waiting around I boarded a two hour bus ride for Manila. I was in a bit of a bind because the airport ATM was "out of service" and I had to spend the few Filipino dollars I had on the bus ride. Making matters worse, by the time I arrived in Manila it was dark out and the streets were swarming with a shady crowd. This is the worst way to arrive in a big city - broke, lost, without any bookings, and being tugged in every direction by "ladies of the night" - so I found the nearest accommodation possible. It turned out to be a place called Winston's, which was an hourly motel designed for one activity. I was beyond caring about such things and I simply holed myself away behind paper-thin walls and waited out the morning.

This was hardly the start I was expecting for the Philippines, but on the bright side things can only get better from here.

May 17, 2007

Kota Kinabalu (BORNEO)

Final Day in KK: Bamboo Trampoline and Dinner with Friends

It took two days to hit me, but my legs are in bad shape after climbing Mount Kinabalu. When I walk down stairs my body feels like a strewn-together collection of wooden stilts, and I try to keep my body weight over the railing. Nevertheless, today is my last full day in Kota Kinabalu so I wanted to make the most of it.

I bought a couple CDs from a local shopping complex, and then I stopped in for a chat with the girls at Kinabalu's Park Office. Marianna, the girl whose picture is shown in yesterday's post, actually got a promotion yesterday and is now working for the Malaysian Health Administration. We were planning to meet for lunch, but since her new office is too far away I settled for a quick bite to eat an Indian cafe.

Afterward, I caught a bus to KK's official museum, which is somewhat out of the way and fairly unfrequented. It is a shame because there were interesting artifacts on display and an impressive collection of life-size longhouses in the rear. Most interesting in my mind were the WWII exhibits, which documented several of the atrocities the Japanese committed on Allied soldiers and the indigenous people of Borneo. Included were the death marches the Aussie told me about yesterday.

While wandering the paths behind the museum I crossed a wooden rope bridge that was more dangerous than it looks - there were broken planks that nobody has bothered fixing.

The real treat came when I reached the collection of longhouses. Most of the building styles were fairly consistent - some tribes were more militaristic while others were more communal - but one longhouse featured a trampoline made of bamboo.

There was a group of 10 students trying to reach a wooden cross hanging from the ceiling so I decided to join them on the trampoline. Unlike a traditional trampoline that cushions your return, the tightly bound bamboo made the landings hard - particularly if you are the unlucky person who comes down when the board is moving upward. I probably shouldn't have joined in considering how painful it was, but I have a feeling it will be quite some time before I find another bamboo trampoline.

I tried catching a bus back to KK from the museum, but I foolishly hopped on the same bus I took to get out there (figuring it would complete a loop). After 10 minutes of driving in the wrong direction I sheepishly realized I was going to end up in another city. I hopped off the bus, walked in the opposite direction, and eventually hailed down another public bus that eventually took me back to KK.

Later in the day I received an email from Mick, the Brit I met with the Penan Tribe. He, Roger, and their wives were staying in KK, and we arranged to meet up for dinner as we would soon shoot off in different directions.

Before any of the night's fun began he gave me a good bollocking for my borderline negligence in climbing Kinabalu - he was once on a climb in Mexico when a man suffered from AMS-inflicted blindness -  but I could tell he was also pleased to know all Americans are not pansies.

We ate dinner at a waterside cafe that served local food, but as Roger rightly pointed out the candles were intended to feign class and charge a few extra ringgit. Funnily enough, neither the cafe itself nor the Shamrock Irish Pub next door sold alcohol, so we had rounds of Tiger delivered from several shops down.

Tomorrow afternoon I fly to Manila for a nine day stay.

May 16, 2007

Kota Kinabalu (BORNEO)

Living Like a Local in Kota Kinabalu

At 8am this morning I left my hostel with Arney, one of the women who works at North Borneo Backpacker's Hostel, with a mission to teach her how to swim on a local island. At the ferry terminal we bought a couple tickets to Manukan, grabbed some food from a local shop, and set off in a small 6m boat. The water was choppy and we were soaking wet by the time we arrived at the island, but the day was as perfect as ever and I hardly minded. I could tell Arney was having a tougher time because her knuckles were white against the railing; she is terrified of the water.

But that is what I was hoping to fix. In my mind, there is nothing to fear from the water itself - it is all the damn creatures lurking below the surface that cause problems.

The island was deserted with the sole exception of a few entrepreneurial restaurants and shops renting beach gear, but there were five or so other groups who came to enjoy the weather and a nice swim in what is heralded as shark-free waters - not that I would ever trust such promises.

Despite coming all the way out to Manukan Island, Arney wanted nothing to do with the water. This didn't stop me from running in for a dive, but I had to be careful because there was coral within 15m of shore. I really should have rented a mask and snorkel, but since I didn't feel like paying the extortionist prices I probably took a year away from the lifespan of my eyesight by keeping my eyes open underwater.

There was a buoy floating a good 50 meters offshore, and since I wasn't getting anywhere with convincing Arney to swim I decided to go for it. I swam over to a Japanese man snorkeling near the shore (with a life jacket on, mind you) and recruited him to come along with me. I figured if a shark did happen along I could swim faster than Naka and I wasn't hindered by an awkward life vest - it makes you a bit of a sitting duck, if you ask me.

With his underwater camera tied around his neck and his wife silently observing from shore we fought strong sideward currents to reach the buoy. I would be lying if I said I wasn't concerned with "the damn lurking creatures" I mentioned earlier, but I did manage to swim down for a closer look at the fish and coral. At the very least a mask would have been a godsend. Fortunately, the Japanese man had an underwater camera that he used to snap pictures from the surface, and coupled with my blurry vision I was able to piece together a picturesque reality.

When we swam back to shore I began chatting with an Australian man who came to Borneo to re-trace a death march the Japanese forced on Australian and British troops during WWII. I didn't really know how to respond  when he told me this because I just finished swimming with a Japanese man. I imagine anyone who recently finished reliving a 5-day death march inflicted by the Japanese would not be keen on the "bonding experience" I just took part in.

After a couple hours of swimming about we headed to the other side of the island for lunch, and by 1pm we caught a ferry back to Kota Kinabalu - just before the rain hit.

I holed myself up in a small cafe that offered wi-fi and tolerated the high price of coffee because it guaranteed me several hours of uninterrupted internet access.

I met up with the Canadian-born Cambridge graduate Joy for a dinner at a local Indian restaurant that was recommended by several locals. We each had a layout of five vegetables and white rice served on a banana leaf, along with a curried vegetable roti (crisp, flat bread stuffed with veggies), and masala chicken. After India, there aren't many foods I still find spicy, but a cold bottle of Carslberg is still a good idea.

Three hours blew by while Joy and I chatted, but then I remembered I was going out with several of the girls I met at Kinabalu Park HQ for a birthday celebration. My mobile phone showed seven missed calls and four new messages, so I quickly threw on a pair of jeans and t-shirt before getting picked up. We drove to Island Bar in the neighboring city of Bandusan where we met a group of 25-30 people. All of the music was western - some day I will get around to posting just how real globalization is - but I was still the only westerner in the place.

Even though it is a Malay country, many people in Borneo love to have a drink at the bar on big occasions. I don't normally drink very much, but as the only foreigner there was an endless stream of people buying me a round (they wouldn't allow me to spend a penny all night). Eventually, I had Mariana (the girl who I became friends with) act as my shield so I wouldn't have to keep drinking.

Toward the end of the night I had the DJ play "Leaving on a jet plane" while I did karaoke for the whole bar. It was a great deal of fun, and a perfect fit considering I fly to Manila on Friday.

Here is video of the birthday girl drinking a flaming drink while the bar cheered her on:

I got back to my hostel a little after 2am and I began the long process of sending off emails and working out the logistics of some pressing concerns. I may be somewhere "exotic" like Borneo, but I will never be able to let go of all my commitments and responsibilities.

Nor do I really want to.

May 15, 2007

Mount Kinabalu (BORNEO)

Conquering Mount Kinabalu in Record Time

I rose at 5:30 this morning hoping to take a hot shower, but the showers were already full and people were bustling about. So I simply walked across the hall and snuck into one of the female showers. It might have been awkward if I cared about being seen, but why would I care?

I threw on a pair of running shorts and a tee-shirt along with my Merrell all-purpose shoes (thanks for the purchase several months ago, Mom). Then, I walked up to park headquarters and sat down for breakfast. I saw a couple looking around the small cafeteria and rightfully guessed it was coffee they were after. After making a bit of small talk they invited me to join them for breakfast.

The couple are recently retired from the airline industry in Singapore, presumably Singapore Airlines, and have been "living the life" ever since. What was originally supposed to be a 15 minute breakfast on the go turned into an hour and half conversation. Not only were they kind enough to pay for me, but we exchanged contact information, and I hope to take them up on their offer to visit when I am back in Singapore.

I hustled back to the main office and put my laptop and other valuables in a safety deposit box for the day. Then, I paid the park fees and was assigned my guide, Jurio. We hopped in a 4x4 jeep and reached the gate of the trail at 8:30am.

It is 9.8km from the entrance gate to the summit, and at 4100m Mount Kinabalu is the tallest mountain in all of Southeast Asia. It attracts hordes of tourists every year - some who are fit enough to conquer a mountain half as high as Everest and some who bit off more than they could chew. I wasn't sure which group I would fit into, but this was to be my first mountain climb.

The walk was through jungle terrain on a fairly well-kept path, and 75% of the time we were walking up steps (the ground was reinforced by wooden planks). Without realizing it at the time, we passed the lead group a little after 9am. My primary concern was maintaining the pace I set (the guide stayed 20m behind me the whole time) without taking any breaks. I knew the second I stopped to rest I would not want to continue onward.

We cleared the clouds by 10am, but I still didn't have any idea what kind of progress we were making. It was a 6km trek from the gate to Laba Ratan, which is the accommodation I had such a difficult time arranging.

Typically, people spend 5-7 hours on the first day climbing 6km and 3100m to Laba Ratan. Then, they spend the night at Laba Ratan and rise at 2:30am to trek the remaining 3.5km to the 4100m summit. It is a painful morning of blistering cold, but with 150 other people who are all braving the same difficulties I am sure there is plenty of motivation.

It dawned on me that we were making record time when we began passing people who were on their way down the mountain (having slept on the mountain last night and climbed to the peak this morning). I could hear the other guides speaking with Jurio, my guide, and several even commented on how impressive our time is.

It only took us 1:58 minutes to cover 6km and 3100m.

Everyone at park headquarters was shocked to see us arrive before 10:30am, but I was too concerned with recovering. Several people (who I would meet later in the day) commented that my eyes were bloodshot beyond all recognition and I looked completely ragged.

"Do you want to continue to the top?" my guide asked.

"Egh! I don't think so!" I responded. It had never dawned on me that some one could make it all the way to the summit in the same day - this was a hardcore mountain, after all, not some lightweight 1200m climb. The sign at the park entrance showed the various park records - including a man who reached the summit in only 3:15 minutes. Of course, I later found out the man had also served as a guide to the top of Mount Everest.

After five minutes of contemplating the question and looking at my watch - only 10:35 - I decided I might as well try to conquer the whole damn mountain in a single day. I told my guide I would give it a go, but I needed 20 minutes for my body to recover.

I left my bag with the fantastic Mr. Lorrance - the park's head honcho who arranged for me to sleep on the floor of Laba Ratan - and rented a jacket for the cold weather. I had to change out of all my clothes because they were completely soaked, but by 10:50 I was ready to begin the climb with my guide.

I might have felt a real sense of importance as I waited amongst the other guides and tourists - by then word had spread I was going for the summit on a same-day attempt - but I was too worried over how I was going to make it up the more challenging second leg of the climb.

I was hoping to stay as light as possible so I only brought my camera for the summit-attempt, but this was a novice decision that nearly cost me later.

After Laba Ratan we were above the tree-line and flat sheets of granite were all that awaited us. We passed several groups of climbers coming down from their morning summit attempts, but by 11:30 my guide and I had the mountain all to ourselves.

Climbing was slow-going by this point, and I was literally bent over on my hands and knees for the first 30 minutes. Then, we reached the tricky final section of the climb where heavy ropes were the only way to climb the desert-like sheets of rock. It was 2.5km spent keeled over pulling myself up the steep slope. My legs had nothing left in them and I was relying on my arms to do all the work.

The secret to my success was rooted in the belief that stopping for more than 15 seconds was the worst thing I could do. It would give me time to think how crazy this whole thing is and how much easier it is to head back and continue onward in the morning like the other 149 climbers.

But then I remembered something very important:

A man's worth, like his integrity, is earned when no one is watching.

Having the mental strength to finish the climb was never a concern. I knew I wouldn't quit until I peaked out (and made it back safely), but I was having some serious problems with altitude sickness and dehydration. I foolishly decided against bringing water, but the air was so dry and devoid of oxygen that my throat and mouth were desperate for moisture, and I could feel Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) setting in. I experienced AMS when I visited Tibet, so I knew what the signs were.

Since there wasn't much that could be done at this point these problems only spurred me on further. I figured the sooner I conquered the mountain the sooner I could descend to safety and alleviate my migraines. But such thoughts didn't stop me from wondering what would happen if I passed out from dehydration (there was no protection from the sun) or if I experienced a white-out from the altitude. Again, my guide and I were the only ones making the summit attempt, and with the logistical difficulties of the ropes I don't know how a rescue attempt would work.

At half past 12 I passed the 9.5km marker, and I knew it was only several hundred meters to the much-anticipated summit. This was the toughest part of the climb, though, and I couldn't help lying down trying desperately to garner every last ounce of strength. My guide was roughly 100m behind me for the summit attempt, and I appreciated this because it was likely his way of allowing me to tackle the challenge on my own. I would have hated having other people with me because this was - like all tests of significance - a test that is meant to be passed without any outside influence.

The final 50 meters were an expedition in rock-climbing as I was forced to haul myself up massive boulders to reach the 4100m marker. I would be lying if I said I didn't think about heading back right then because I had long since passed what I thought was my breaking point.

At 12:50 I stood atop the summit 4100m high without another soul in sight.

My guide caught up with me twenty minutes later and we laid down relaxing for nearly about 45 minutes. The wind was something severe, and I was worried about getting badly burned because it was too cold to feel the sun's rays. I nearly forgot to snap pictures of the summit because I was so tired, but I was able to take the following video. It isn't possible to hear most of what I am mumbling on about because of the wind and for the first 20 seconds the camera is pointing straight down because I was too incoherent to remember to move the camera around.

Thankfully the way down was far easier than the way up. We were able to cover ground in half the time it took to come up, and I must have been using different muscles because I found new strength. I had to hold the ropes and climb backward for parts of the return-trip, but we made it back to Laba Ratan by 2pm. I ran inside the main building, gathered my belongings while blushing to an ovation from other workers and climbers, and with snacks they handed me I set off to climb all the way down the mountain.

I decided against spending the night at Laba Ratan and seeing the sunrise in the morning because I knew my legs would be jelly in the morning and there is no way sharing the views with 100 other people can ever match standing atop the mountain alone.

I thought we made it up the mountain fast, but my guide and I really pushed it on the way down. We were basically jogging the whole way with the notable exception of the steps - my knees were in really bad shape from all the climbing.

I passed roughly 10 people I have met along my journey in Borneo, including the Londoner, Aussie, and Dutch girl I have been traveling with recently. All were shocked beyond belief I had climbed the entire mountain in a day - they were only 3/4 of the way to Laba Ratan at 3:00pm! Unsurprisingly, we beat half the previous day's climbers back to park headquarters, as well.

We passed through the entrance gate at 3:42, which meant I conquered Mount Kinabalu in 7 hours and 12 minutes. Not bad considering I was not planning on doing any of this when I started off for the day. I saw plenty of people who are far fitter than me, but as I said before this was a mental challenge and the body has no choice but to obey what the brain wants.

I collected my climbing certificate at park headquarters and endured another series of applause for being the only person to accomplish the feat in quite some time. I gave my guide a substantial bonus for staying with me the whole way, and I was happy to hear the park also compensates him for the added level of difficulty.

By 4:30 I was standing on the side of the road waiting for transport that could take me back to Kota Kinabalu for the night. Eventually, a minibus came along and I hopped aboard.

I checked back into the same hostel as several nights ago, as I have become good friends with the three female owners. Even though they were fully booked for the night they agreed to let me sleep in their room (separate bed, of course) for the night. They also went so far as to buy me dinner and will hang a picture of me on the wall to show all other guests "how to climb a mountain."

Nothing tasted so good as the bottles of Carlsberg, but I have a feeling my legs will be jelly in the morning.

But it was more than worth it!

May 14, 2007

Kota Kinabalu (BORNEO)

Figuring Out a Way onto Mount Kinabalu

The order of business for the day was figuring out a way onto Mount Kinabalu, which at 4100m is Southeast Asia's tallest mountain. Although 150 climbers are granted permission to climb each day, the next available booking is a month and half from now. Since my flight leaves for Manila (Philippines) on Friday, I had to figure out something new.

I was the first one through the door at the park office in Kota Kinabalu, but as expected I was told that there were no cancellations and the chances of climbing were slim. I spent the next half an hour chatting up the workers, and they agreed to call me later in the day if anything became available.

Rather than waiting around, I wrote down two of the girls' mobile numbers and maintained constant contact, and I even brought them a famous Malay snack when I came back in the afternoon. Fortunately, the girls were on my side and called their boss to see what could be worked out. I was thrilled to hear they would let me climb the following day, but I would have to sleep on the restaurant floor in a sleeping bag they would provide.

So, I rushed back to my hostel, and after gathering all my belongings (really not that much) the girls arranged a free lift to the park.

I checked into a small dormitory at the base of the mountain at around 7pm, and after attending an informational session for the climb I got an early night's sleep.

I will start climbing early tomorrow morning.

May 13, 2007

Kota Kinabalu (BORNEO)

Boat Ride to Kota Kinabalu and Exploring the City

You guessed it: today began with yet another early morning. By 5:30am I had finished showering and was walking toward the Brunei bus station with only a granola bar for breakfast. We caught the first bus to the international ferry terminal, and from there we departed for a tax-free island in the state of Sabah, Malaysia. After clearing immigration, we only had a few minutes to linger before catching yet another boat that took us the final leg of the journey to the capital of Sabah, Kota Kinabalu (KK, for short). We didn't arrive until 3pm, but it was a pleasant day of relaxing on the deck of the boat with great views of the South China Sea and perfect weather.

Several travelers we met recommended a hostel to us, so we quickly dropped off our bags and set off in search of food. I quickly devoured two plates of chicken and rice, and then I did my normal routine of walking the city to acclimatize.

I found a great fish market tucked away near the harbor, and the locals were more than happy to chat. After I examined the sharks for sale at one of the tables, I explained how I am terrified of sharks. The locals found this quite funny, and even thought to chase me with one of the sharks. It was a fun time as word quickly spread through the market, and I repeatedly had an eel or barracuda perched on my shoulder.

Unfortunately, I haven't gotten much sleep over the past week and I needed to lie down. I headed back to the hostel and passed out on a couch in the communal area until my friends awoke me for dinner. We found an Italian restaurant in the middle of town that actually had a 15 minute wait (unprecedented in a place like KK, and Asia in general), so we decided to indulge in real cheese, red wine, and garlic bread. It always feels bad spending money on food, but this was a well earned $11 meal.

I tried several bars around town, but no one was carrying Arsenal's final game of the season, so I simply shared a few beers on the hostel balcony. I met a woman who just finished climbing Mount Kinabalu, which is my primary purpose for coming to KK. After talking about what to expect on the 4100m climb, we moved on to other topics. She did her graduate work at Cambridge University and is currently working as a consultant for environmental issues, so we covered a lot of ground. One of the more interesting topics were the engineering possibilities that exist in this field - something that will become more and more important as I whittle down my field of focus.

As for climbing the mountain, I am still without a reservation and the waiting list stretches over a month. This is a bit of a nuisance since I fly to the Philippines on Friday, but I will spend all of tomorrow figuring out a way up the mountain.

If I have learned anything from my travels, it is that anything is possible as long as you are willing to make it happen.

In other words, I will get up that mountain one way or another.

May 12, 2007

Bandar Seri Begawan (BRUNEI)

A Day in the Oil-Rich Kingdom of Brunei

This morning started early: as I settled down in bed for the night I began chatting with a couple European girls sleeping in the bunk next to me, and after half an hour we decided we might as well head out for a few beers at a local pub. Both study in Copenhagen at one of Europe's top business schools, and they have 10 days of freedom in Borneo before heading back for a series of presentations. It is difficult re-capping the variety of topics we chatted about, but suffice to say we didn't get back until 3am.

One of the girls is the daughter of a Swedish diplomat, and after living all over the world (including visits to Jupiter, Florida and Cope Cod, Massachusetts - I have family in both places) she developed a terrific base of knowledge and perspective. The other girl lived in America for several years while attending a prep school on a field-hockey scholarship, and despite her modesty it was clear how competent she was, as well. The Europeans are a lucky bunch because exposure to a variety of nationalities means they are cultured from a young age. This is a trait Americans must work hard to learn, and it is never easy because of of time and distance constraints.

When I told them I keep this weblog, they made me promise the to quote the following comment they directed toward me: "If all the world were as informed as you the possibilities would be endless." I feel silly typing such things ("he who thinks little of himself is much more than he thinks"), but I don't want to rule out the possibility they will hire me some day for following through on promises.

The second part of my morning began at 7am when I collected my belongings, showered, and had a quick bite to eat before departing for the country of Brunei. Once more I was lucky enough to hook up with a group of people who had already chartered a taxi, and I ended up saving money by tagging along with a Brit, an Aussie, and a Dutch girl.

I have long-since stopped counting the number of countries I have visited because it is too difficult to characterize what counts as a country (for example: Taiwan, Tibet, Bali, Hong Kong, and Borneo), but a more serious issue is that my passport is becoming dangerously full. I have 24 pages covered in stamps and visas, and despite having extra pages added once before I may soon be forced to apply for a new one.

Brunei immigrations was a painless process: we drove up, handed our passports through the window, received our stamps, and drove on. I tried ordering a Big Mac and fries - upsized - when I handed over my passport, but I don't think the officer caught my joke. That, or he was like everyone else in the car, and just didn't find the joke very funny.

Later on the ride, I listened to our Chinese driver's conversation on a mobile, and he was talking about how long it would take for us to arrive (he had a pick-up to make at the airport in the afternoon). Since he didn't speak any English, I asked him about all this in Mandarin, and once more the language has turned into my greatest asset because he was thrilled I could speak. We all found it funny how excited he was, and after conversing for a bit he said he would take us to Brunei's famous Empire Hotel.

For anyone who doesn't know about the Empire Hotel, it is rated a 6-star hotel that cost $1.1 billion to build. It was commissioned by the infamous Prince Jeffri (brother of the current Sultan) as a way to encourage tourism in the oil-rich country. This is the same Prince Jeffri who formerly stole over $4 billion of public funds for his lavish lifestyle - which included gold-plated toilet brushes, upwards of 2000 cars, and several private jets - and he even carried out an audacious kidnapping of Miss America. He hired her as the face of Brunei's tourism industry, and then kept her locked up for several months while he attempted to use her in ways she wanted nothing to do with. More recently, Prince Jeffri has been exiled to London by the sultan, but he is still being pursued for allegedly stealing upward of $10 billion in recent years (he was formerly the Minister of Finance).

All this puts Britain's concerns over royalty in a bit of perspective.

Anyway, the driver took us to the hotel and he sat around while we wandered through the grand atrium with an 80m ceiling, seven restaurants, a Jack Nicklaus designed golf course, cinema, bowling alley, and eight pools (totalling 11,000 sq. meters). Of course, with a price tag of $26,000/night the accommodation didn't quite fit in with my backpacker's attire and student's budget.

An hour later we arrived in the capital of Brunei, Bandar Seri Begawan. We checked into the slightly more modest Hostel Brunei, which cost $10/night and was still the most expensive bed I have paid for on this trip.

I grabbed a quick meal of gado-gado - an Indonesian favorite - and began touring what felt like a ghost town. It was Saturday, and there were still hardly any people on the streets, and all the shop owners were lounging around worry-free. Even the jewelry shops were right out in the open with simple glass encasing and no security guards. This is an advantage of a country where petrol costs $0.25/liter, alcohol and drugs are strictly prohibited (and harshly enforced), most purchases are government subsidized, and the sultan formerly held the coveted position as the world's richest man (presumably until Prince Jeffri went on his spending spree).

The most impressive sight in BSB was the imposing Omar Alu Saifuddien Mosque, which is the city's tallest structure (the sultan ordered other buildings lowered). The interior of the mosque was every bit as impressing as the exterior, but the guard was not particularly friendly and we each looked like Harry Potter in the black robes we had to wear.

Afterward we continued wandering the town and found a local water taxi who agreed to take us on an hour long tour of the world's largest stilt community. Excluding the 0.2% of the population who comprise the royal family, an estimated 30,000 of Brunei's citizens still live on houses built over the river. The schools, mosques, and police station all make up the colorful boardwalk community, and it was pleasant riding through the "village." I posted YouTube video at the end of this post.

Later in the day we toured the Royal Regalia Museum, which houses an impressive collection of gifts to the world's richest monarch; most impressive was the huge dragon carriage that took up half the main hall, but the silver magnum would have made Dirty Harry (Clint Eastwood) proud.

As the day wound down I headed to a local coffee shop where I began chatting with a local girl and her brother. The girl just finding her business degree in London while her older brother was working for the Ministry of Defense, so they spent the next two hours answering my litany of questions - each of which they found quite hilarious. The people of Brunei have a great sense of humor, and don't take their country too seriously.

Before dinner I made one final loop around the Mosque while the sun set in the background, and then I savored one of the best martabok ayam dishes I have ever had.

Other than food, staying at the Empire Hotel, working in the oil industry, or visiting the terrific locals, there are not too many reasons to visit Brunei. This was even confirmed by the French diplomat who I (literally) ran into when he was walking out of a grocery mart. We had a good laugh over the close call, and he went on to explain his role was to assist the French community who work for Total (oil company).

Finally, here is video of the cruise along the water villages of Brunei.

May 12, 2007

SINGAPORE

Making a Difference - Hopefully a Good One

To see what kind of an influence I am having on my friends, you can read these two weblogs (Wai San or Wai Hong) of friends I made in Singapore. Somewhere along the way of numerous conversations I convinced them to tour Europe and Asia for the summer, and they are actually going through with it! For a Singaporean to do such a thing, especially with grades as good as theirs, is quite audacious!

Below is a picture we took together for a soccer tournament back in Singapore. They are (oddly enough) the only two wearing glasses.

May 11, 2007

Miri (BORNEO)

Impressive Niah Cave

Finally a proper night's rest, a proper shower, and real coffee. I haven't washed my clothes since leaving Singapore so that was high on my morning agenda, as was keeping this weblog updated.

Miri is a quickly growing oil town that is inundated with people of all shapes and sizes. Seemingly everyone is trying to capitalize on the quick growth, so it is interesting chatting with the locals and hearing how they are trying to "make it". One of the worst kept secrets in Malaysia (remember: both Sarawak and Sabah are officially Malaysian states) is that the Malay people are given preferential treatment over other races, despite their reputation as being lazy. Thus, the hard-working Chinese and natives often find themselves frustrated over the difficulty in being awarded contracts or government licenses while the (often) less able Malays  receive preferential treatment.

Over lunch I practiced my Chinese at a small noodle shop, and after hearing I was waiting to board a long-distance bus to the impressive Niah Cave, one of the men sitting nearby eventually offered to take me. The 54 year old Mr. Lu enjoys exercising and wanted to join me on the 13km walk so long as I paid for gasoline on the 240km trip. It was a great deal for both of us, and we set off at 1pm.

After checking into park headquarters, we boarded a small boat that took us to the jungle boardwalk. Mr Lu basically served as my guide while we scurried along at a brisk pace. Apparently, he takes part in an activity called "hashing," which is basically a free-for-all run through jungle terrain, across rivers, and up rock faces. Of course, cold beer awaits the 100 or so people who take part in the weekly outing. I would have loved to join them, but time is not on my side.

**FYI: My camera was out of batteries today so I couldn't take any pictures. It was a big let-down because the views were amazing.**

The boardwalk to the caves was a tricky ordeal as the planks were made of a sawdust-plaster combination, and a few days ago an Australian man actually put a leg straight through two of the planks as he was walking. The Aussie is still holed up in his hotel with a thrashed leg and severely sprained ankle. We passed four such holes on our way, so I made sure to walk above the supports the whole way.

The first cave we passed through was Trader's Cave, and it is where sparrow-nest trading once occurred. From there we continued on through the 100meter high Niah Cave where roughly 450,000 bats hide away in the dark corners of the cave. It took us 35 minutes of walking before we passed through to the other side of the cave, and we spent a long 15 minutes walking in pitch black a top a grimy plank with water dripping on us. Without a torch it would be impossible to find your way through, and without some one for company it is easy to be overcome by fear: I saw several massive spiders with my torch and on the side walls I could see swarms of bats sleeping.

We continued another few kilometers through the jungle to the Painted Cave where we saw a preserved "death boat," which is basically a suspended coffin where ancient natives laid down their important elders for eternal rest. There were also a series of faded paintings along the walls, but the paint was too faint to properly make out the scenes.

After a bit of wandering and cooling off, we backtracked back to the grand Niah Cave and waited around for the famous changing of the guard at dusk - when the sparrows return to their nests and the bats swarm out for night hunting.

Other than a handful of traders who live inside the cave to protect the nests from eager entrepreneurs, we didn't pass anyone for the afternoon. The trader's art works as follows: they climb to the upper levels of the cave once a month to collect sparrow nests, which are then sold for a hefty profit on the Chinese medicine market. Mr. Lu said a  trader falls to his death every couple of years, and I wasn't surprised as they have to shimmy up lengths of rope without any kind of support (there were roughly 50 such ropes scattered throughout Niah Cave). Once the men reach the roof of the cave, they position lengths of bamboo in crevices and work their way around in search of nests. Try imagining a 100meter length of rope hanging down from a blacked out cavern at the roof of the cave and you will be as impressed as I was.

By 6pm the swarm of circling sparrows found their way back to the nests, and the first bats began sneaking out along the roof of the cave. The bats looked like ants crawling along a wall, but the chew-chew-chew flapping sound gave away their real identity. As time passed the swarm of bats increased in density, and I could see them scouring the jungle for fruit trees. We strained our necks upward for 30 minutes watching in amazement before Mr. Lu and I set back in the darkness. We both had torches, but it was still slow going because the planks were so dangerous and slippery.

We arrived back in Miri at 9pm, and I was completely knackered from the long day. I took a shower and bought some dinner before joining Roger, Mick, and their wives for a few card games. We listened to a couple of good British artists that I would highly recommend: Keane and Raising the Light.

In the morning I will leave for the oil-rich state of Brunei.

May 10, 2007

Miri (BORNEO)

Settling Down in Miri

At 7am I left the longhouse on a four hour 4x4 drive to coastal Borneo. It was yet another night where sleep was hard to come by, but I was heading for an oil city where proper accommodation was awaiting my arrival.

After being dropped off on a main road, I waited about an hour before catching a ride onward to the oil city of Miri in eastern Sarawak. I checked into a hostel late in the afternoon, and found a small Chinese noodle shop where I was able to practice my Chinese. One of the greatest parts of traveling in Asia is speaking Mandarin on a regular basis, and it always earns me an extra dish of free food.

Since today was mostly full of travel and the process of resettling there weren't too many interesting things going on. However, I did meet a fantastic girl in a coffee shop who is half Cantonese and half Kayan (local tribe in Borneo), and we hit it off quite well. Unfortunately, traveling from city to city and country to country is not conducive to the process of building relationships.

Some day, maybe, but not now.

And not any time soon, either.

May 9, 2007

Central Borneo

A Day with the Penan Tribe

Sleep was hard to come by for the night, and at 5am I had enough. I rose from the small shelter we were sleeping in and wandered the nearby area with my torch. It was a bit of aimless walking, but there was no way I could lie there any longer. All I cared about was having survived the night.

Mick and Roger awoke a little after 6am, and we spent the next hour discussing our options. They paid several hundred dollars for the entire trip, which was supposed to last four days, so it was a big let-down for them. We decided we would spend the rest of the day with the Penan and head out in the afternoon.

Breakfast consisted of white rice and hot tea, but once more I felt awful eating while the rest of the tribe sat by watching. Basically, the three of us are going two straight days without eating. Trust me when I say it is easier this way.

One of the Penan hunters led us into the jungle for the morning, and by 8:30 we were well on our way. After about an hour of walking we had to ford a small river, and as we descended down the slope Roger got stuck in the mud - and when I say stuck, I mean he was up to both thighs in muck. We weren't in any hurry to help him out, so we were free to enjoy the scene as he tried to wiggle his way out.

We continued onward through the jungle while Daniel translated the Penan hunting techniques. Besides the home-made rifle (impressively made from old car parts), dogs were their most important hunting tool. Unfortunately, an outbreak of rabies wiped out the entire canine community about one year ago.

Speaking of being wiped out, a few weeks ago our Penan guide nearly died of malaria. Daniel visited the camp when word of his illness spread, and Daniel convinced the man to seek out western medicine. I was less than thrilled when Daniel also told us the malaria-stricken man spent five days dying in the hut we slept in last night. Thankfully I didn't get bit during the night - despite mosquitoes, moths, spiders, and other critters lining our nets.

At around noon we reached another river where we were free to relax in the shade while we waited for a dugout canoe to pick us up. It was a great spot - reminiscent of the setting for the movie A River Runs Through It -  and I couldn't understand why the Penan didn't live here.

Despite being terrified of crocodiles, I followed Mick and Roger into the river to cool off. We spent about an hour relaxing in the water while we left the fishing poles wedged between rocks, but all we caught was an 8 inch eel. The other Penan hunters had better luck with their nets, and caught about a dozen fair sized fish. This was to be our lunch later in the day. The Penan do not use any preservation techniques choosing instead to eat everything in one sitting.

Eventually the canoe reached us and we hopped in for the ride back to camp. We were riding low in the water, which became a serious matter because there was a gap between two of the planks that allowed water in every time we rocked to the left. Our butts were soaking, and by the time we got out there was easily 3 inches of water in the boat. This was yet another sign that the Penan are not the world's greatest tribe.

When we arrived back at camp we introduced the tribe to the game of soccer and worked up an easy sweat in the process.

Lunch consisted of the fish we caught, more sago, and white rice. As always, my back began aching from the stick floor and I ate like a bird. Even the tea makes me nervous because the tribe gets it from the local river, and even with boiling I don't think all the germs are killed. Better not to think about such things, I suppose.

The real highlight of the trip came after lunch when the girls began singing for us. They dressed up in their best clothing (Daniel often brings them used articles from Belaga), and all the songs all dealt with love. Daniel went on to explain that several of the young girls had fallen in love with me and were desperate for me to stay. They were not shy about their affection either, and would put their arms around me while they sang. From the looks I was getting it was fairly obvious what was on their minds... Mick, Roger, and I were all surprised they were so open about their sexuality, but we were also afraid of getting a spear in the side from the tribe's men.

The girls had beautiful voices and I wish I had a tape recorder because their native songs will not last forever. Hopefully the picture to the right also shows how beautiful many of the girls actually were. It is a shame they will never have the opportunity to pursue an