An impulse to write.

With all the changes happening in my life, I had a sudden impulse to write. The evening hours are not the best time for me to articulate my thoughts, but the feeling of perpetual motion has got me riding a wave that often resembles a sink or swim situation. Perhaps it is because I am in one (a sink or swim situation) as a first year teacher in the NYC public school system.

I work in a Title 1 high school in Jamaica, Queens, one with over 3,000 students and over 200 staff. We receive federal funding because the majority of students receive free or reduced lunch (in other words, below the poverty line). I teach 9th grade Living Environment (Biology) and 10th grade Integrated Algebra–both classes are to prepare for the State Regents.

Beyond curriculum and content, I am learning to deal with society’s ills that will undoubtedly seep into the sphere of public education. So far, I’ve had meetings with case workers, teenage parents, educational advocates, and foster care parents. I’ve told students they can still go to college, despite the fact they’re undocumented. Also, I’m familiarizing myself with where particular resources are in the building, which staff member handles what, and how I can do my part in making sure each student in my class receives what they need.

Today, an interesting moment happened between myself and a student that I will probably carry with me for a while, and it did not happen in a classroom. I was prepping for my next class in an empty room next to the infirmary. She walked in and said she was looking for the nurse’s office, which happened to be locked at the time. She said she had an emergency and gave me a look of desperation when I responded with, “Sorry, this isn’t the nurse’s office.” From her look, I knew instantly what her emergency was. It was a coming-of-age emergency. She got her period that day.

She turned around to leave the room. “Wait,” I called out, “Did you get your period?” She stopped and nodded. I told her I had something for it and reached into my bag to give it to her, along with a hall pass so that she wouldn’t be marked late for her next class.

To be honest, I didn’t catch her name, nor do I remember her face much. She was probably a 9th or 10th grader. But, the encounter made me think of the additional hurdle to educate girls of a certain age. On an emotional level, it is such a tender time in their lives of figuring out the psychological and physiological changes that come with puberty. On an educational level, girls need to know that it shouldn’t impede on their learning experience. Menstruating is healthy and normal, and can be proactively addressed so that they can stay in school.

For a moment, as I stood in the empty room after the student left, I felt like things were going to be alright. I was going to be alright. I smiled at myself and got back to work.

My mission statement.

A few months ago, I had a short, yet profound connection with a stranger that got me thinking. Let’s call him D.

D was a third-year med student who decided to become a doctor after kicking the idea around for many years, on the fence about taking out massive school debt and halting his life to pursue medicine. He decided it was worth it, so he took the MCATs, applied and interviewed at medical schools, picked one, quit his full time job, and went about his journey. D started medical school (in one of the top five schools in the country) in his mid-30s. In an age when most doctors-in-training were finishing their residencies, D’s career just began.

But D did not see his age as a hinderance or his career as “just beginning.” He saw his new trajectory as a continuation of his life mission, which he wrote up years before he began thinking about medical school. As I sat next to D, he took out a small black Moleskin notebook, opened up the flap, and read me the short four sentences that encompassed his life mission statement. D wanted to serve others and saw that medical school was the best training he could put himself through to impact people. He was bright, determined and probably would have excelled in whatever he put his mind towards, but knew that his heart was most content helping others as a doctor.

After exchanging comments on the best brands of probiotics and Spirulina green mix, he encouraged me to write my own mission statement as a guideline to live my life by. So here it is, after rounds of revisions and joyful contemplation.

My mission in life is…
– to be a beacon of hope in the darkness
– to lead by example
– to empower the broken and destitute
– to champion and serve those without voices
– to love my family and friends
– to keep exploring, adventuring, and learning
– to live each day as if it is my last day on Earth.

Ten months later.

After nearly a year hiatus from writing in this blog, I feel like I have so much to say yet nothing at the same time. I stopped writing about my travels right after I began to recover from dengue fever, an illness that took me to the fringes of death and shook up my entire existence. After going through that experience, I began to see life in richer colors and every experience to be savored and felt fully, which meant there was no time for hunkering down to type up an entry.

And really, no time to spend getting from one place to another stuck in the purgatory-like scene of public transportation third world style. By the last month of travels, I was ready for a home base and did less moving like a crazy nomad and more taking in the details of the present environment. My environment of choice was the island of Bunaken, which is an hour by boat off the coast of northern Sulawesi. I stayed there for ten days and lived about 10 meters away from the best snorkeling reef on the entire island. If I wasn’t swimming, snorkeling or scuba diving, I was eating. If I wasn’t eating, I was reading. If I wasn’t reading, I was slacklining. If I wasn’t slacklining, I was swimming…and so forth. My body felt so fit and fresh from the daily movement and sun. It was complete paradise. Most importantly, that environment offered me the chance to be totally present in the moment and take in the rich details around me.

After those ten days, I went back mainland for half a week to visit Tankoko National Park and see lemurs (small nocturnal primates with big eyes). After Tankoko, I had the itch to return to Bunaken for a few days, where I spent my last remaining solo time before I flew back to Semarang to visit my family. From Semarang, I flew to Singapore. And from Singapore, back to New York City, the city I call home.

On April 9th, 2013, I returned to New York City. In these last ten months, I have slowly and deliberately started building roots while planning out my next steps. I will write more about the mission statement I have thought out for myself in my next entry, along with further reflections about traveling in Indonesia and my personal identity. Hopefully, it will be shorter than ten months in between entries!

Written in March 2013.

I partially wrote an entry in March 2013 that I never got around to finishing and publishing. I polished it off today and so here it is:

Today marks the start of my final month of travels. Traveling has been a whirlwind adventure, but I’m looking forward to changes soon. In the last month, I’ve significantly lagged in sorting out and organizing my photos, haven’t really been in touch with my friends and family back in America (except for the occasional postcard), and feel relatively unaccomplished as a person. Traveling is tiring me out and I can’t wait for time to process everything that’s happened on this trip. In quiet moments to myself, I reflect. Here are my thoughts so far:

1) Long term travel should have meaning and purpose, or else you’re just aimlessly wandering from town to town, unpacking and replacing your luggage, looking at endless maps. Luckily, before my trip, I had a question in mind: “Where do I come from?” Yes, obviously, Indonesia. But what is Indonesia beyond a country? I wanted to know where I fit in, in this idea of Indonesia. I believe having this goal throughout my trip helped me focus on why I was there in the first place.

2) Traveling is really a continual act of trusting. Trusting God, the universe, Life, oneself, whatever your higher power is, that all of your needs will be met. There was a time during my travels when I ran low on cash, and none of my ATM cards worked. I was in a very remote part of Indonesia that was so rural one had to use a flashlight if you had to visit the convenience store after sunset. Luckily, I had the company of a friend I recently made a week before. He loaned me cash until I had access to an Internet connection to Skype w/ my bank, which was five days later, and I paid him back. This is just one story out of many. Traveling taught me about the kindness of strangers.

3) Next time, bring half of what you initially intend to pack. These last months, I’ve given away shirts and socks to cleaning ladies, an old pair of headphones to a bicycle taxi driver, my old leather wallet to a village girl (as an attempt to downsize my important cards and documents in one location), and even left my bulky hardcover travel guide in a bungalow lodging by the ocean. I began to rely on the traveling advice of locals, other tourists, and the Internet to decide where to go next and how I was going to get there. As I let go of dead weight, I felt more free. Undoubtedly, less is more.

From Ubud, Bali to Kupang, West Timor to Koh Lanta, Thailand.

Hello from Asia! Since I left the Gili Islands of Lombok, I hung out with forest monkeys in Ubud, volunteered at an orphanage in West Timor, ran alongside Kupang’s Hash House Harriers, and survived dengue fever. That’s right. I survived dengue fever.

Dengue fever was an awful experience, one of the worst in my life. It’s hard to imagine just last week I was covered in chills and sweat, not much of an appetite yet thirsty all the time, a full on itchy rash on my skin, swollen limbs, and stiff joints and muscles. My feet were so stiff I had trouble walking down the stairs. At one point, I thought death would be better than this. I spent my days sleeping. But fortunately, my blood pressure remained stable and there was no need for me to go to the hospital. The local doctor gave me a blood test and electrolytes and advised me to rest. Now I’m feeling much better and can hardly believe the worst is over. I never want to wish this virus on anyone, but I’m also grateful knowing that it could have been much worse.

To back track a bit, I got the virus while I was in Kupang, West Timor, volunteering in Roslin Orphanage. I was there for two eye-opening weeks. The orphanage has over 120 children from ages 25 years old to months old babies. I mostly taught English classes, sang songs, played games, helped with homework, and held babies. I fell in love with a scrawny two year old boy name Michen, who was found with puss covering his skin and a spine problem. Doctors thought he would never be able to walk, but when I met him he was running around and laughing. I witnessed the suffering of a mother about to leave her infant child at the orphanage for indefinite time. She would not stop holding him until the helpers at the orphanage told her she had to leave because they had to prepare for dinner. I saw a teenage boy receive correctional eyewear. For the first time in years, the world became clear to him. Sometimes sadness would overwhelm me, but mostly I was pretty elated to be with the kids. I’ve never met a group of kids so eager to learn and please. They easily laughed and smiled. I reflected a lot on my upbringing and family during this period, and thanked God that I was born into a family that loves me and could see me grow up.

Before Kupang, I was in Ubud for one week. I met two other travelers, one from Finland and another from Australia, and we ended up sharing a room together to save costs. They were good company and had similar interests. We dined together in small warungs, snacked on fruit juices, and explored rice paddies and cultural events together. We went to see a traditional Balinese dance in the center of town. That was by far the highlight of my stay in Ubud. The bright colors of the costumes paired with shimmery gold trimmings and delicate batik were pleasing to my eyes. Then, the melodic musical notes produced by rows of gamelons players topped it off. The dancers had me clutching to the edge of my seat. They are talented beyond words. The Aussie, a law student from Perth named Terry, flew to Jakarta and the Finnish girl, a film director who lives in Helsinki (the capital of Finland) named Pilvi, continued her travels to Nusa Lembongan.

Well, now I am in Koh Lanta, southern Thailand. My initial plan was to be in Thailand for two weeks for scuba diving, but I spent over a week of it recuperating from dengue fever. Now that I’m finally feeling better, I signed up for a dive tomorrow in Koh Haa. I fly back to Indonesia on Monday. I still need to upload a lot of my photos from my camera to iPad, so I will post up photos of Ubud and Kupang in my next post!

Photos of underwater life by the Gili Islands.

I’m in an internet cafe in Ubud, Bali so I can share photos of underwater life off the coast of Gili Trawangan and Gili Meno. I didn’t bring my log book with me so I can’t remember the names of the sites. Water visibility wasn’t the greatest this time of year, about 8 meters, and it was difficult to get a steady shot of fish since they move around, but we got some really neat photos nonetheless. The photos of me were taken by Anna, my instructor.

Hello from 60 feet below sea level!

A sea urchin hanging out in his favorite spot.

Corals!

Cute little guy.

View of corals from above.

Moray eel.

Blue starfish.

Ocean floor shrimp coming out to greet us.

Colorful fish!

This is where nemo lives.

Can you spot him? He’s a fish that mimics the bottom of the sea.

Coral that looks like brains.

Puffer fish.

Beautiful zebra fish.

Incredible creature. One of the highlights of my dives was being close to this turtle.

We are quickly becoming friends!

Schools of small fish hanging out by the corals.

The sideview of corals.

Anna swimming.

And we’re done! Back on the boat. Me and Yahdey, another scuba instructor.

Last week in Gili Trawangan and Gili Meno.

So, I have lots of photos to share! I am in Ubud, Bali right now and have been here since this weekend. Ubud is known as the cultural hub of Bali and is situated in the center of the island. Art galleries, boutique shops, and health cafés line the streets of central Ubud. About one and a half kilometers away lie beautiful rice fields and coconut groves that never seem to end. But before I arrived to the rice paddies of Ubud, I soaked up beach life with turtles in Lombok.

I was in the Gili Islands when I wrote my last post so I will write a little on my last days in the Gilis and diving. I now have 11 logged underwater dives, half of which are deep dives (over 18 meters deep). I’m certified to dive up to 40 meters, about 130 feet, anywhere in the world, and I look forward to taking this new hobby in other countries and bodies of water during the rest of my trip.

Being in the ocean day after day has significantly changed my perspective in life. Diving is an extreme sport (scuba diving and sky diving are the only two sports you need to be certified to do!) and I learned quickly there are absolutely no guarantees that a diver will make it out from the ocean alive. But, the ocean is a magical place–its own world, really. If one doesn’t explore such depths, then one does not get to see its treasures.

For me, the ocean quickly became a metaphor for life and I kept returning to it soaking up lessons. I take heed to the ocean’s unpredictable nature, its fickleness and dangers. Life is also unpredictable and doesn’t spare a single soul from its horrors. Yet, to be alive is simply an opportunity to experience grace. Whether it’s the grace of God or whatever one would like to call it, beauty feeds our soul. To feel and feed this beauty is what it means to be human on this planet. We must not be scared, but rather find the courage in our hearts to dive deeper and issue forth into the unknown sea. We must take risks and explore to find large rewards. This is what I learned from the ocean.

In my first deep dive, I saw a white tip shark on the ocean floor. His beady eyes looked at us, then he scampered away swimming deep into the sea. During my last deep dive in Gili Trawangan, I witnessed a big turtle slowly swimming up to the shimmery surface. He poked his head out of the water to get air, then he swam back down. I took some underwater photos, but they’re in a memory stick and I have difficulty getting them on my iPad so they’ll have to wait. But here are some photos taken above water of my last week in Gili Trawangan (and also Gili Meno, I spent a night at a friend’s bungalow and checked out the bird sanctuary!):

The sunset off the southwestern part of Gili Trawangan.

Beautiful corals by the shore, and my toes.

Up-close shot of red coral.

Up-close shot of a hermit crab.

The entrance of the bird park in Gili Meno.

A beautiful cocktail bird.

A palm cocktail getting friendly with me.

And he gives me a kiss!

There were also big lizards in the park. He, on the other hand, did not give me kisses!

Also, baby reindeers! Wait, in Indonesia?? In a bird park?

Coconut trees in Gili Meno, on the property where I stayed.

Cow on Gili Meno.

And we are back on Gili Trawangan, only a 20 minute boat ride from Gili Meno.

My last sunset on Gili Trawangan.

Me and very happy to be alive.

Diving by the Indian Ocean.

As of today, I am internationally licensed to dive underwater maximum of 18 meters, about 60 feet. I took a 3-day intensive that includes a written exam on diving theory, time in the pool getting used to equipment and buoyancy, and a practical exam of multiple dives. The center I’m taking my training with is Gili Scuba, the only center on this island owned by locals. Their instructors are PADI certified (Professional Association of Diving Instructors), and I feel safe and comfortable with them. My instructor, Anna, a lovely woman from Toronto, and I competed a total of four dives together. The practical exam in the ocean includes navigating with a compass, clearing water out of my mask 18meters deep, disassembling and assembling my equipment on the surface, and what I need to do in case I run out of air and need to use my partner’s air.

Getting certified for open water diving was quite an experience and a bit more challenging than I thought. I thought I would just get the opportunity to see colorful fish. And yes, there’s incredible wildlife in the ocean and ultimately being close to them is what drives me to go diving, but there’s a whole another thing to consider: Humans are not designed to be in the ocean, too much water and we drown and die. So, scuba was invented. The equipment is high tech, bulky, awkward to use at first, and funny looking, but it lets us stay underwater for a considerably long period of time. For each dive, you’re essentially carrying compressed air in a metal tank to use throughout the entire dive, which is approximately 45 minutes long (the deeper you go, the shorter bottom time you get). The tank supplies the air you use to breath and to achieve ideal buoyancy for being underwater. Cables are attached to the tank and you keep a regulator in your mouth at all times for a steady supply of air. The diver also has to deal with negative elevation and equalizing their ears properly as they swim deeper, or else serious injuries can happen. As you can see, it gets technical very fast with a lot of risks. I had to seriously weigh these risks on my third dive.

Twelve thirty in the afternoon, Anna and I took a boat ride with the crew to a spot called Bounty Wreck, close to Gili Meno, a near by island to Gili Trawangan. Bounty Wreck has a sunken pontoon that slopes downward and is overgrown with corals. We descended and found the currents to be very strong and visibility poor. We saw the pontoon and the current pushed us towards it. My legs started to get sucked into the slope by the current, which would have left me in a dead end and probably injured and out of control. I thought I was going to die and started to panic. Before my entire body got sucked in, I felt Anna’s hand on my scuba vest lifting me out. We then drifted with the current because it was too strong to swim against it, but I stayed close to her the entire time. I was frightened, but tried to remain calm. During a moment of respite from the strong current while holding on to dead coral on the sea floor, I looked up and saw a huge turtle inches away from my face. The creature must have been two feet long and so still and graceful. He was tranquil amidst the chaos, and I instantly felt better.

In the end, we made it out alive and I was relieved to hit the surface. We were only underwater for 38 minutes but it felt like forever. I am told this was a good experience for me. That same day, eight divers on this island got swept to sea while waiting on the surface for their boat after their dive. They were found three hours later, alive but scared. I take diving more seriously after that day, especially safety procedures (safety rule #1: you always dive with a buddy!).

I know this sounds crazy after what happened on my third dive, but I signed up for Advance Open Water training this week too. The ocean is calmer now and I want to see what the ocean is like further down. The maximum depth we’ll go is 40 meters, about 130 feet. But even in 18 meters, I see rabbit fish, anemone, parrot fish, sweet lips fish, octopus, eels, turtles, and plenty of bright coral. I’ve never seen anything more captivating and mesmerizing in my life. When the water conditions are just right, I can spend hours looking at ocean wildlife if my air tank allowed it. Earth is truly a special place and the risks are worth seeing how incredibly beautiful wildlife is in the ocean…not just in a National Geographic photo or a Discovery Channel documentary, but through my own eyes and skin.

Here are some photos! I’m taking a course on underwater photography so I hope to have photos of the animals I see up here soon.

The harbor on Bangsal, Lombok while I waited for a boat to take me to Gili Trawangan. The sun was about to set.

A private spot on Gili Trawangan I like to go to write and think.

The view of the ocean from Gili Scuba while I prepped for a dive.

Me and Anna by the harbor about to hop on the boat to our dive site.

All geared up and very excited! But first, we do a check stop to make sure everything is fastened and secured.

And in we go!

After diving, I sometimes have lunch at this local warung on the north side of the island. Pak Lit, the owner sitting on the bench, usually accompanies me and we chat. He was born in Lombok, but his four grown children were born on Gili. His youngest child is in high school.

Soto ayam, aka Indonesian chicken soup. Yum!

A panoramic view of the ocean from Pak Lit’s warung.

Close ups of the seashore.

A local surfer enjoying the waves.

Greetings from Gili Trawangan.

I’m on a very small island called Gili Trawangan off the coast of Lombok, an island east of Bali. It takes about an hour to tour the perimeter by bicycle, in which half the ride I had to dismount because the unpaved road is made of beige sand. There are no cars or motorbikes here, just horse drawn carriages the locals use for transportation. Wild goats roam the western side of the island. Fresh water on tap is scarce. Instead, filtered salt water is used to shower. The eastern side of the island is filled with tourists and surfers interested in the island’s pristine pale blue waters and laid back lifestyle. The harbor for ferries that transport people and goods to and from mainland is also on the eastern side. Bungalows and restaurants line the eastern side. I’m staying in a cozy bungalow towards the northern side of the island, in front of the island’s turtle conservation center and about a two minute walk from my scuba diving school.

I specially came to such a remote and tiny place to learn how to scuba dive. Scuba diving has been a dream of mine since I first discovered I can clearly see underwater with goggles during swimming lessons at the local YMCA in grade school. Paired with one too many Discovery Channel shows of underwater explorations and National Geographic centerfolds of bright coral and tropical fish, I opted to get my international PADI Open Water certification here. It’s just a fancy title that basically means I’m a recreational diver for open water depths maximum of 18 meters (about 60 feet). I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to experience a unique side of Indonesia.

Unfortunately, dives have been cancelled the last two days because of strong wind currents, which are great for surfers but not for divers. Divers are hoping the currents will subside tomorrow so that underwater visibility will be better. Tonight is my second night on Gili so I’ve had a good amount of time to explore the island, chatting with locals, and simply just getting used to island life. Locals speak a dialect I’m not familiar with. I can pick up certain words, but the local language, Sasak, differs greatly from the Javanese dialect of my family and the national language of bahasa Indonesia. I can still joke around and talk to the locals in bahasa Indo. Inside the perimeters of the island, a small village exists with a daily market for vegetables and goods. A large masjid is being built and I can hear its prayers five times a day from my bungalow.

The locals enquire about life in America and I enquire about life in Indonesia. They tell me that minimum salary set by the Indonesian government is $110 US a month. Many young men I speak to live in Lombok and commute to Gili every month to work in these bungalows and restaurants. Many give their parents more than half their income and pay for the education of their younger siblings. Sometimes we’ll eat together at the local eating place that takes place in a run down shack in the center of the island. Their stories make me feel very small. My problems are nothing compared to theirs.

I feel far away from home. Except for the locals I’ve met, I do not know anyone on this remote island and at times it’s strange to be so far away from civilization. Yet, the beauty of this place is enchanting. One can witness the power of nature here. The sounds of the ocean is soothing, but it can also be angry at times, ripping through the air like a lion’s roar. Hermit crabs play and fight with each other near the shoreline, where the tides continually bring dead coral the color of faded blue and ceramic white. There’s an orange stray cat that follows me during my morning walks and she lets me pet her. (The cats on this islands all have short tails, a genetic trait.) A gecko lives in my bungalow, diligently catching mosquitoes and flies. Nature never questions itself, and never apologizes, it just does what it pleases and we as humans have no other choice but to abide by its rules.

My writing nook by the beach.