Biking, Bribing, and Bartering in Bali

You've got to go to Bali. Do it for giant waves or the beach bathing or the endless motorcycle switchbacks or the volcano hikes or the hotsprings or the ... or the...or the many amazing possibilities to make it one of the best vacations you've ever had.

The girlfriend and I's first adventure on the island was making it to the sandy surfing beaches...to boldly go where every tourist in Bali goes...Kotu beach. If you have never ridden a wave, and need to learn, this is your first stop on the tourist train.

You have many options on how to learn to surf...most of them are overpriced surf clubs that charge you 50 bucks an hour so some guy can tell you how to stand on your oval oasis. The cheapest (and therefore the best in my opinion) was to hire one of the locals that rent the boards right off the beach. It takes a 10-15 min of haggling--which kind of works like this:

1) Ask how much.
2) Laugh at starting price and then divide by 10. Call them your friend.
3) Stage new offer--watch them laugh at you, and hear them agree you are good friends.
4) Double starting price and hold firm. Slap him on the shoulder and reassure him you are good friends. Tell them how old there equipment looks, but in a good way.
5) When they triple the starting price, sadly shake head and slowly walk away. Act hurt and forlorn, like the good friendship you had is about to end.
6) Gladly let your new friend walk you back after he agrees to your deal. Mentally prepare for the "You first customer I give so cheap" or "My kid no eat tonight".
7) Slap yourself on the back for only paying four times as much as the locals.

Final tally for lessons, two surfboards, and two hours of rental was 20 dollars (or 200,000 rupiahs, the money they use in Bali). Original asking price was 100. Pretty much every transaction in Bali is 10 min of my friend, my friend, my friend.

But I did get to learn to surf, and it is kinda of addicting, especially after you are able to stand and ride the entire wave completely to the shore. Of course on the beginner beach, the waves are pretty short at 4-5 feet, but thats enough! Any bigger and it gets a little scary, especially when you wipe out and the waves roll you like a twig.

Later is when you notice your pasty white skin has completely transformed you into a glowing red cherry color, that no amount of aloe vera is going to heal. That god for the anesthetic effects of beer.

The best part of Bali was the motorcycling throughout the whole island though. Motorcycles are dirt cheap to rent--with the small 125cc scooters starting out at 3 dollars a day. I upgraded to a Honda Tiger with a clutch, where a week rental costed me 25 dollars.

Driving a motorcycle in any part of Asia takes a lot of courage, but I soon found myself cutting traffic, driving through stoplights, and on the wrong side of the road, just like the locals. Once out of the cities, we drove up to the islands volcano, and then down twisty turny steep ridges to the hotspring pools in the volcanoes valley below. There we sat eating fresh peeled mangoes in the 110 deg F pool. I thought I would complete the picture by scrubbing myself with some of the volcano rocks laying everywhere. I imagined some rich socialite in New York paying 500 dollars an hour for the same treatment.

On the way to the volcano, we ran into some police doing 'registration checks'. This is where they stop you and ask you for your international license, of which no one has and the rental agency doesnt even ask you for (they only ask for one thing--the money). After Mr. Policeman tells you how illegal you are, how big the fine is going to be, and how bad this is going to be for YOUR vacation. He then says we can be friends. I agreed, we should be friends. 100,000 rupiahs later (10 USD) we really ARE friends and he is giving me directions and tips for the best places to go. Here, a 10 dollar bribe pays for a lot. I thank him, he thanks me, and we are both on our way and I've learned a new lesson. Laws are for dirty westerners.

And I am coming back to Bali just as soon as I can.

The endless summer

Here in Singapore, the days are the same length, same dawn, and the same sunset. Warm summer nights are the norm and a cool breeze is always appreciated. If there is a season change, I have yet to feel it. No falling of the leaves, no mornings with dew on the leaves. Relentless humidity that makes a pair of jeans feel like a torture device on a short walk. Lounging around in the underwear is a survival skill with your trusty fan always at your side.

I don't know at what point it was, but sometime in the last few months, Singapore stopped having that warm vacation feel. The feeling is now more like a 5 min too long sauna session. I've taken a cold shower for six months in a row now, and I wonder how I could have ever used hot water in the past.

The only changes to look forward to are the powerful storms that sweep over this island and strip off all of the dirt on the roads and walls, to make everything smell new again.

A trip to Cambodia, a trip back in time.

A recent weekend trip took me to Cambodia—two cities called Phnom Penh and Siem Riep. Cambodia is known for two things

When we first arrived to the airport, the first thing you have to do is buy a visa for your stay. Its kind of unnerving as you pay 20 USD, give up your passport for perusal and then wait in a line as six military officials all armed with large stamp pads quietly judge you as you wait and wonder if you are going to pass some mysterious staring process. I have no idea what they judge you on, but I know all the white ladies got through long before anyone else.

On getting out of the airport, you are barreded with taxi, tuk tuks, and moto drivers who want to take you into the city. We opted for the tuk tuk carriage. This is something like a carriage that is pulled by a small 125cc motorcycle, the kind of which you would wonder if it could be safe for two people, much less pulling a carriage.

But you soon learn in Cambodia that these small motorcycles are the family car equivalent to the rest of the world. We saw numerous families of 5 traveling, large animals being carried, and even large boxes filled with wood—all on the passenger seat of the motorcycles. But the one that takes the cake was the one motorcycle balancing 3 100 lb propane tanks, all with the help of bungee cords and a few strips of twine.

Most of the intersections had no stoplights, and yet the streets are crowded (and dirty) beyond imagine. At the intersections are a controlled chaos of traffic passing through each other with not so much of a scratch on anyones moto bumper. The one accident we did was at a intersection with stop lights. A car rear ended a moto with a mom and her daughter carrying a large buckets of onions. Not too tragic of an accident—just enough to knock down the motorcycle. The little girl was amazing—as soon as she fell off the motorcycle, she got back on her feet and started picking up the onions with a slightly annoyed look on her face—as if getting hit behind on the moto is just a small setback in her day and not lawyer extortion process we would make it into.

One of the major draws of going to Cambodia is looking at the 1000 year old Angkor Wat ruins that lie in the city of Siem Riep. From Phnom Penh (where we flew into) to Siem Riep is a 100 mile trip down Hwy 6 that takes about 6 hours by bus. You wonder why it takes so long until you see the road they call a highway and the many obstacles you see on it. This bus trip is a trip back in time as go from the city and pass through the countryside. One will see plenty of oxen carriages, oxens working in the field, and hundreds of naked children playing in the mud—maybe to stay cool. The bus turns into a bully as it constantly honks its horn to get carriages, motos, and walking people off of the road to go through. One comes to the idea that the road is a more of a meeting of the people than it is a tool for travel.

In Siem Riep we took a short tour of the Mekong Delta. It’s an amazing lake/swamp like place that stretches from horizon to horizon. Our rickety wooden tour boat brought us out to many villages that permanently reside in the water, where everything you eat starts from the water to everything you don’t need ends up there too. We were warned not to drink it, and I wondered what ridiculous tourist even had thought to try. As you travel though the waterways, small boats will race up to the tourist boats. Brave small girls carrying buckets of bottled water and coke cans will jump from boat to boat (while moving) and try to sell you whatever they can. I was amazed at their agility with their relatively heavy loads.

The Angkor Wat ruins were pretty amazing, and you could spend a week looking at them all, and still only see a fraction of them. Even though they have been picked over and all the gold and jewels are gone, they still leave you amazed at how these 1000 year old structures and temples have still survived, with many wholly intact. One of the first things you notice is that all the Buddha heads are missing on the statues, as they are worth a great deal to collectors outside of Cambodia. Around the sites themselves are always makeshift markets selling whatever they can to the tourists. This includes many boys and girls, from ages 4 to 12 trying to beg or sell you bracelets, flutes, blankets, shirts, figurines and a hundred other useless souvenirs. Sometimes you wonder if the kids are the only merchants there.

For the most it was really cheap to go there—we hired our own tuk tuk for the day—where the driver drove us around to all site for 15 dollars. Hotel room costed us 10 dollars a night, but you had to agree not to bring prostitutes there, since it was considered Buddhist guest house. Even I can sacrifice for 10 dollars a night.

A trip of Cambodia would not be complete without the seeing the S21 torture museum. In the late 70’s the leader Pol Pot of the Khmer Rouge political party took over Cambodia. Everyone at first cheered because they thought the civil war was finally over, but the most gruesome chapter in Cambodia’s history had just begun. Pol Pot had a plan that said everyone in Cambodia should be working in the rice fields and only government officials could be in the city. Mass population movement from the city was forced and anyone deemed intellectual and questioning was immediately killed—along with anyone from other political parties. Wearing glasses was a sign of intellectualism. S21 torture museum was a former primary school that was turned into a prison and torture center. Going through it was a lesson in brutality not soon forgotten, as all the torture devices are still there, stories of those tortured, and walls and walls and classrooms and floors of skulls. One room was filled with skulls, each labeled on the cause of death—which for the most part was pretty obvious due to the bullets, blunt force fractures, and bayonet wounds.

After seeing how poor these people are, I was left to wonder about how the ruins from 1000 years ago are now rebuilding the country, as tourism has become the major industry. But it was a fascinating trip of another culture and lifestyle not seen in any western country.

The lesser adventures.....

Genting Highlands, Malaysia

The writer's block has seized me the last couple of months, not having any grand adventures, pitfalls, or prostitution encounters to write about. So I guess its time to write about the lesser adventures from the day to day life.

Malaysia Highlands in Genting.

Imagine finding a pristine mountain top with intact rainforest and a perfect temperature of 75 degrees throughout the year, when the rest of the flat plains is roasting at 90 degrees temps or higher. What do you do with such an oasis? Plant a big fat casino of course while ripping out all the green leafy trees and putting in plastic ones! I took a visit to this casino for a poker tourny of 500 hundred players from all over southeast asia. I came in 30th place and won 1000 malaysian ringits--would you believe I was bumped out when I had a Full House in my hand? Such a tragedy!

Because I thought I had a chance to win the whole tourny (before the dreaded Full House came), I purposely missed my flight back home. I realized later all the buses were booked and I had no ride home for Sunday night, so ended up hiring a cab to drive the 5 hrs back to Singapore --pretty cheap actually --half my winning of 500 ringits. Unfortunetly the cab driver loved John Denver (country roads..take me home...to the place....I BELONG...) and falling asleep at the wheel. We went half in the ditch about 3 times which kept me VERY awake--where I offered the cabby I would drive, but he wouldn't let me. Know the price of gas in Malaysia? about a 1 USD per gallon. This is a cheap cheap country--I'll be heading back soon.....

Jack London says it best......

I would rather be ashes than dust--I would rather my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze--Than it should be stifled in dry rot.I would rather be a superb meteor,Every atom of me in magnificent glow,Than a sleepy and permanent planet.Man's chief purpose is to live, not to exist:I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.I shall use my time......

Jack London

Palua Ubin bicycle adventure.

Here is another goofy video of me and my exploits. Trouble viewing? Download here.

Some Tasty Noodles

With the recent addition of my amazing new cam phone, I took some fun videos for you. Here is the first of many

Guan Yin and duck necks.

Guan Yin, the buddhist God of Mercy, is having a celebration today. It included several dances with all the men painted up and looking quite feminine. I think this has to do with Guan Yin being represented as both female and male, depending on his/her mood. Other festivities included lighting giant candles and incense sticks. I don't think the God was pleased however, as it started to thunderstorm an hour later.

The vendor above sells nothing but fried duck necks. This could be a new fast food sensation. Sorry, but I just wasn't hungry. You wouldn't believe how long of a line this guy had. How much meat can there be on a duck neck?

Happy Endings in the People's Park

Its a leisurely Sunday afternoon in Chinatown. This means the weather is hot, humid, and creating layer after layer of sweat I can not get rid of. I need some air conditioned comfort and it is in the form of the People's Park. This is one of the largest malls and markets here, brimming with thousands of black haired Asians from Indonesia to China. It is a shopping Mecca of cheap electronics, impromptu salesman, travel agencies and a whole floor of massage parlors. I need a memory card for my fancy new phone and maybe some relaxation away from the blanket of humidity.

After getting soundly ripped off on my new 8 GB memory card the size of a finger nail, I decide to take a stroll around the mall. Travel agencies are a major business here and going in groups is the ideal for many Asians, as we have all seen in one Metro or another. The next floor is the massage parlour. You can get face peels, foot rubs, back rubs, whole body massage, hot rocks, manicures, pedicures, etc. Its all here. And cheap, VERY cheap.This the place to go for some cheap relaxation and it shows. The floor is crowded, but no one has to wait in lines as many recliners and beds are available. I look at the prices--for about 15 USD, you can get a 1 hr massage. I have never had a massage, and decide that now is the time, with the price SO right.

Choosing is difficult however--there are 10-20 shops, all cajoling you as you walk by, trying to get your business. Look interested, and the cajoling almost turns to haressing. I finally decide, and well, call me shallow, but I choose the shop with the prettiest looking masseuses (clue 1). I am afterall, a man. If your going to choose, choose pretty (turns out, this is bad advice). My masseuse is a soft spoken, slender asian beauty that looks like she is going to have to walk on me in order to get any type of deep tissue massage. Nothing wrong with that.

The experience starts with her taking your arm and leading you back to a darkly lit room filled with the smells of incense. I was expecting a massage table, but found a single mattress on the floor covered with towels (clue 2). Well, I figured its a budget operation and you get what you pay for. I am told to take off my clothes and lay down. I think this just might be a translation error, so I take off my shirt lay down and wait for her to come back. The bed smells like the one I had in college, when the sheets didnt get washed so often. Oh well.

My asian beauty comes back and tells me that my pants are still on and she cant give a massage this way. Really? Really. Lucky I have my white 'Dragon' mural boxers on, which I am quite comfortable in. Of course she sees them, starts to giggle and says, "Oooh! Sexy dragon man!" (clue 3). Embarressed, I lay down and the show begins.

While never having been to a professional massage before, I have had numerous massages given by a few amorous girlfriends. I think I know a good technique from a bad one. If a punching bag is your idea of a good massage, you might want to see this lady. I got a lot karate chops followed by linament lotion, followed by more karate chops. Well the place was cool, dark, somewhat relaxing, and a 40 kg girl cant do that much harm even if you can tell she has no idea what she is doing back there (clue 4), so I literally just roll with the punches.

About 15 minutes later, things get interesting. The karate chops get lower, and pretty soon, my innocent butt is soon getting worked over something crazy (clue 5). Here, not even the amorous girlfriends dared to touch (but should of!). Not bad.....I think I like it.... After five minutes, things get decidedly even more interesting.

My new (girl)friend tells me to roll over. Huh? O.......K.......(maybe she wants to rub my chest?) No. When I roll over to my back and she gives me a sweet, mischevious smile. Uh Oh. One of her hands starts on my chest slowly starts to go south (hhhmmm, wondering where thats going......) With her other hand, she grabs my hand and decides to rest both on her.....uh...sternum. Then she asks me one innocent question:

"You like massage me? 100 Dollar? Double Fun?", at which point she pointed to her mouth and another spot a wee south as well. I think somehow the lights went a bit dimmer as well.

I'm no idiot, I seen the clues, but somehow didnt really expect her to be so bold. I think froze there, for about 5 seconds, feeling the wild beating in my heart. Contemplating? Maybe, but with a shake of my head...the price dropped to 75......another shake of the head brought it down to 50. She thought we were negotiating, I was just trying to keep her above the waistline. After one final no, she got up, and said massage over. I felt a mixture of adrenalin and embarrassment...and wasnt sure why. I dressed and hurried out.

Later on, I told my friend Fernando about the experience, and he mentioned this is quite common for masseuses in the Philipines (plane ticket already booked)---except they have a little code word for it--they just ask you if you want a "Happy Ending".

My Malay friend told me I actually got out lucky. Sometimes if you refuse the girl, the door gets locked, and you have to 'pay' the 200 to get out. Raise a ruckus and they will tell the police you assaulted the girl and tried to rape her or some other embarrassing fable.

Never the less, I still had fun. And I am starting to feel the stress in my back already.....

My first day at NTU

One of the great German traditions I enjoyed in Marburg was the "First Day" email. When someone left the group, they always wrote an email describing their first day at the new job. I continued the tradition and here is what I wrote. I'm gonna miss those krauts.

My first day at NTU-Singapore

My first day started out with a meeting to the Office of Human Resources. Here they describe the benefits you are entitled to, how to get you RFID Name card (this opens all the doors, no key involved), and what will generally get you fired (like downloading porn….darn). The benefits are actually quite interesting—they give you a special account with a value of 2300 SGD (Singapore Dollars). This account can be used to reimburse yourself for hospital copayments, dental expenses, and even HOLIDAY EXPENSES. I love that part. Up to 200 SGD of my account can be used to reimburse any travel expenses, since going on vacation is therapeutic. Airline tickets cost just about that much from Singapore to Thailand, so I know where I am going next. I can also use it for acupuncture and other Traditional Chinese Medicines.

After the meeting, I went to get my RFID Name Card. This card acts as my key to all the doors I am allowed to go in. I did some of my own experiments with the new RFID Name card. I put it in my wallet and then put my wallet in my back jeans pocket. I found I could then open doors just by hitting my ass next to the card reader. It makes my ass look magical. The Chinese coworkers were not impressed however, but then again, most of them are too short for their asses to reach. They lack the magical ass needed.

Next was an introduction to my new office cubicle. Compared to Marburg and Minneapolis, I was in heaven. I received a new desk, new cushy chair, Quad Core 2 Intel computer, Laser printer, my own office phone, file cabinet, and a bundle of office supplies. I got so excited over my own office phone I called myself on my cell phone—but found the guy on the cell a jerk so I hung up. It all looked so nice and perfect; I wanted to sleep there, right on the desk. Unfortunately, I have few excuses of why work can’t be done now. Now I want to rent the Office Space DVD and make it complete.

After getting a short nap in at my desk (had to test it out), I had a afternoon coffee break with my boss. He is a pretty laid back Indian who asked how everything was going. He said the only thing I needed to get done the next week was to familiarize myself with the projects (literature search) and try to settle in into my new office. Next week I have three meetings, Monday through Wednesday, to meet the group members that are involved in the three projects I will be working with, which includes drug eluting balloons, drug eluting stents, and ocular implants. I have a lot to read in the next week, with a few proposals to write too.

That was the end of the workday, but not the end of the day’s drama. The bet in Marburg was to see if I could last more than two days without ‘police intervention’. Well I am proud to say that in this land of rules, rules, and more rules, I was able to escape the attention of the police, so far. But unfortunately it hasn’t been going so well with the PRC Chinese roommates. After six days of living with the Chinese family of three, they politely asked me if I wanted to leave early from my contract—like in the next week. I guess I haven’t been so good with the rules at the apartment, or so conformist, as I like to think about it. What finally scared them was some prescription drugs I had to store in the refrigerator—but there were scared they were real ‘street’ drugs. I even got a translator to explain what it really was, but they weren’t satisfied, so I have to look for another apartment now. What a bummer.

Hope all is well with you and feel free to visit in Singapore anytime you want. I’ll show you where you can find the tastiest frog legs.

Santosa island.

Me on the right, treading for joy.
The salt water made it really easy to float, but tasted like hell.

As one might expect from an island nation, beaches are plentiful in Singapore and the most popular beach of them all is Sentosa island---you could say its a 'MiniMe' version of Singapore. One has to take a tram to the island, whereupon you get off the train and you literally step onto the beach. As I (like most of you reading this blog) have never swam in the waters of southeast asia, I didnt quite know what to expect. The waters were really warm, a little too warm though, as I wanted to jump in and cool off from the hot weather, but it was refreshing anyway. I met up with an expatriate group to form some instant friends (just add water) and we had a pretty good time, since none of us had any significant others to celebrate with on Valentines Day :( . We swam out to the little island in back of us--the sand had a very peculiar feel. Everytime you stepped down, one sank about calf deep--so the initial impression was that of quicksand. I thought I would be smart so I stepped out an SOS just in case.

Sautee'd frog legs any one?
They are quite tasty.

Above is a plate of freshly grilled frog legs with some vegetables for color. The meat was pretty tasty but the bones are really tiny and easy to miss. You learn just to chew them and swallow. Same for shrimp shells--its too much work to get them off and after awhile you start to like them. Some of the unusual food (to me anyway) I have seen over here in the fast food restaurants is pig liver, pig kidney, pig feet, (nothing is wasted here), fish head soup, deep fried chicken feet (REALLY popular), sea cucumber, tripe (guts), and grilled, pickled eggs (all sorts of birds, but duck is popular).

Me in the pink garden with the green backpack.
I am a fusion of color, race, and style. Sandals are a must.

Painted bamboo is the new clothes dryer for me.

I'm livin like the locals as much as I can. I am even starting to like rice a lot more. I have it pretty much at every meal, but havent figured out how to work it into breakfast. In the background is the blue cannondale, taking the world tour right along with me. The front rim got a little bent this time, probably by about an 1/8 of an inch but she still rides. I explored the Jurong neighborhood I live in with this afternoon and discoved yet another mall, flea market, and hawker food stalls a block away from where I live. They even had a music school there, where I promptly signed up for more violin lessons.

The above picture proves I can fix anything with a zip tie.

During the move, my poor computer broke down once again. I was trying to start it up and kept smelling funny plastic-burning smell. Uh-oh. While the box handlers were using my computer as a bowling ball, the pins holding the processor and heatsink/fan broke and my processor was bouncing around like Terry in a Techno club. I thought the computer was a goner for sure this time, but I spent about a half hour straightening the 300 copper pins (a real PITA) so I could plug the processor back into the socket. Since all the plastic clips broke, I had to find a method to hold the heatsink/fan on to the processor--then came the zip tie, circled in red to save the day (of course my leatherman deserves a little recognition too). What was junk, I am now typing my blog on. Lets cross our fingers and hope the zip tie doesnt melt hold the heatsink......

I seen a good article on CNN today:

Study: Experiences make us happier than possessions

Click above.

Since I have very little possessions, I should be a very happy man someday. Ode to the future.

Outcomes and expectations

Apartment searching in Singapore. I had the wonderful plan to find budget accommodations in Singapore as rental prices here are on par with New York and London. Budget means no place to myself and me having to find someone with a free room. This I thought, could be a good thing--find a chinese family living close to work, integrate myself with them, take some mandarin courses, and before you could say wham, bam, thank you mam, I would be speaking fluent chinese with a whole bunch of new friends. Funny, its not quite working out that way.

The apartment search was quite brief. I looked at six apartments, six very budget apartments, less than a 30 min walk to my work. All sharing houses with chinese families mixed with other students too. Over here, the major negotiating article is air conditioning (which the singaporeans call aircon, except when the say it, it sounds like acorn). without it, you can have an apartment for 500, with 'acorn' its 700, and really deluxe is finding a master bedroom with private bathroom, which costs about 900 USD.

At first, I thought I could be tough, and tough out the hot weather, and for go for the really cheap rooms. But the more I realized it, I remembered I was a white boy from Minnesota with skin pale enough to see through. That and one of the agents said I was stupid to consider such a thing, since he had been living here his whole life and couldnt function without the 'acorn'. But then again the higher the price, the higher the commission for him.

On one of the places, they actually tried to speak some english to me, and seemed somewhat interested in me being there, as with most it felt like they were just looking for a warm paying body in the room. So I chose them. But at every place, I was shown the list of rules and the list of what NOT to do: These generally fell along these lines:

1) no cooking allowed, the kitchen is mainly for looks. Boiling water is allowed.
2) No one over ever, hundred dollar fines should you break this rule.
3) anything over 1.348 decibels is likely to get you kicked out. They've measured. Twice.
4) everything should always be cleaner after, then when you first touched it. Prepare to buy new if this is not adhered to.

After smelling some of the hawking food stalls here in Singapore, the no cooking allowed actually makes some sense. Imagine overcooking fish in the microwave and you have the basic idea.

One lucky provision I did negotiate was the 'acorn'. I told them, every month I used it, I would volunteer another hundred dollars toward rent, and this was duly noted in the contract (along with uncleanliness--which could get me kicked out with no deposit).

So me and the new family are trying to adjust to each other. They keep getting mad at me cause I where my flip flops into the house. Yes, I wear flip flops everywhere now, otherwise the feet start to float in their own sweat, creating the most potent anti-woman odor repellent ever been made. I keep getting mad at them, because everyday their is a new rule that seems so perfectly obvious to them, but so far has eluded me. Flip flops stay outside, but shoes should be carried inside and placed in own room. Double sentry doors must be locked at ALL times. Windows should be closed the majority of the time, so no dust can come in. and on and on and on....and I am going to nutz with too many rules. its only the second day I have lived here......

Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye again.

I had to say goodbye to a lot of people in Germany I am really going to miss. I created a little family away from the family that I duly left again. Saying goodbye is hard--sometimes I would rather avoid it, sneak out the back door while everybody is still happy and celebrating, and choose to have my last look at them just like that. But goodbyes do show you care, show you showed up even if the hugs and last words seem to come out awkward with the right words always escaping, unable to express what you are truly trying to say. Hmmm........

An American's American Adventure

Dear Readers,

I am back from my travels of America. The one and only time I have truly toured America was a college trip to Mexico when I was 19. My friends and I TRIED to reach Mexico, but we broke down in Colorado Springs, CO for 3 out of the 7 days we had off. We told our sob story to whoever would listen in CO and received free pizzas, free rides and free concert tickets from sympathetic natives.

As for this trip across America, it went something like this. I started at Frankfurt, flew to Paris, hopped a plane to Boston, then onto Huntsville, Alabama after which I spent a few days in Douglas, Arizona. From the warm deserts of Arizona I flew to the cold tundra of the Minnesota winter. My body was in shock going from 70 to -20 in a few short hours. From Minnesota, I flew back to the Frankfurt. By my estimates, I flew enough to circle the earth once.

So what did I do in all these cities? In Boston, I stayed high class in a Marriot hotel, generously discounted do to my wonderful mother. I stayed there for 4 days and didn’t do a heck of a lot except some emailing and catching up with old friends while there. I visited the hotel gym once, and was proud of it. That should make up for the all the other nights of beer and chicken wings. They don’t have quite the tasty chicken wings in Germany and I had to get my fix.

Huntsville Alabama I had a job interview. Outside my hotel room window was a blinking Saturn 5 rocket, standing 10 stories tall, looking ready to take off at any moment. (In aside, I cant believe our NEW space program is going to revert back to a Saturn 5 like space program—those geniuses at NASA). The job interview consisted of a seminar and speaking with 7 additional people for an hour at a time. They ask such ridiculous questions that always sound like—Tell me about a time when blah blah blah happened and how did you react to such blah blah blah? I wish they would ask truly creative questions, like how would go about embezzling a million dollars from us? If you could sleep with any of the interviewers—who would it be and why? If you had to chop one limb off, which would it be? Why? Explain how each of the previous questions would benefit the company.

But going on. From Huntsville I flew into Phoenix and took a long drive through the tumbleweeds and cactuses of the Arizona desert right on out to the border of Mexico. I spent three days getting in touch with my new Mexican-in-laws. Things were going great until I was fed a Jalepeno and cheese burrito. I then thought they were trying to kill—death by the twice burning burrito. I even learned some tradition as I watched them buy 30 pounds of meat for a family of 5. Well the family of 5 started to cook and then many families spontaneously showed up through the Mexican snake vine. That’s when the beer started flowing and the Latin Satin Serenaders started singing to all the Senoritas present or not. It was so interesting, I only wished I new some Spanish to sing along. Then maybe some Senoritas would have talked to me too. On the way back to the airport I got some more Mexican heritage riding in van of 16 mexicans, all going to Phoenix. The driver acted like he was running away from the border patrol as he sped down the highway at 80 mph and careened around every corner he could find. You couldn’t find a greater thrill ride for 40 bucks. We did have to stop for the border patrol once and I was forced to prove I was American too. This makes me pass all tests proving I am now married into Mexicana, although my brother in law might disagree on that.

Finally I reach Minnesota, former home of me, where all my wildness can be let loose and everyone expects it. In Minnesota, outdoor sports are the rule, even if the temperature dips below freezing, which it is from October to March. Some people get on cross country skiis, but the lazy mans approach is get on a snowmobile and ride around, usually with a beer in the hand. Well I am a little out of practice, as I kept my brother pretty busy fixing snowmobiles I had formerly ridden, as I rolled one snowmobile twice but only blew up one snowmobile once. Quite the professional am I. I also tried sledding, but found I was too out of shape to run up the snow covered hills with the nieces and nephews. The hills were too long and my legs too short.

For New Years Eve I found my old friends and went to a local disco. A band was playing that specialized in reggae-rock music. I found a few dance partners but found no one to kiss me at midnight, unfortunately. So I called up my parents, woke them up and wished them a happy new year. The rest of the night was spent dancing and meeting new people that wanted to know what living in Germany is like. I like to reinforce every stereotype there is so, I told them I drink warm beer, eat sauerkraut, and get whipped by kinky German mistresses. Well two out of the three isn’t bad anyway.

On the way home, I was accidently bumped up to first class by Delta. I ate crab cakes and slept in a leather Barcolounger while stewardesses kept my white wine brimming full. They even gave me a toiletry kit to use on the airplane, which I am still borrowing. I should have taken the pillow and quilt they gave me too—it was quite cozy, unlike the wash rag for a blanket they give you back in coach. I thought I would use the opportunity to talk to as many of these rich bastards as I could and my seat partner was one of them. He was in the manufacturing of galleries used on airplanes. This involved the use of zzzz zzzzz zzzz zzzzz………..yeah it put me to sleep to. No wonder he gets paid the big bucks as he is the only one anti-narcoleptic on the subject. But he did give me some good vacation ideas in Germany.

A little late though, as all my current plans involve leaving the Vaterland. I accepted the job in Singapore and I leave in the middle of February. I start the depressing actions of getting rid of everything I have accumulated in the past two years. This means putting everything on ebay and watching all your stuff get sold off for pennies on the dollar. All my books have to be given away once again and my cheap but fun artwork carefully packed away. Then on to Singapore—the gateway of Asia where all my adventures with language, culture, and people start all over again.

Singapore should be fun, and the surrounding countries of Indonesia, Malaysia, Phillipines, and Thailand should also be fun to explore. Stay tuned for future installments of my adventures and mishaps.

Happy 2009 to all my readers. May the year bring everything you wish of it, and a new beginning for us all.