Friday, July 23, 2010

Malaysian Borneo - Swingin' in Sandakan

The mere mention of Borneo, as the Lonely Planet says, conjures up a host of vivid images: thick jungle teeming with wildlife, wild rivers flowing through tunnels of overhanging trees, orangutans swinging through forest canopy, craggy mountains soaring above the steamy lowlands, and remote longhouses inhabited by the descendants of head hunters.  Incredibly, all of these images are accurate.  You'll find this and more in Malaysian Borneo, but what is surprising are the prosperous cities  with first class resorts, efficient public transport, and an extensive network of paved roads.  Borneo - the world's 4th largest island, is located just east of peninsular Malaysia and is made up of two countries: Malaysia in the north and Indonesia in the south.

 I needed to find somewhere to occupy my time for the next week and a half until Jacob and I meet up so I decided to head to the northern state of Sabah in Borneo.  A nature lover's paradise, Sabah is the place to see some of Borneo's famed wildlife.  It's also home to one of the world's best dive sites, the uninhabited island of Palau Sipadan - a massive coral fringed oceananic pinnacle in the Celebes Sea.  But, the main reason I came to Borneo was to climb the craggy peaks of Mt. Kinabalu, the 13,435 foot freak of a mountain that dominates Borneo's northern landscape with its twin granite peaks. 

After researching the ridiculous bureaucratic requirements involved with climbing the mountain (apparently people book a permit as early as 1 year in advance), I decided to first fly to Sandakan, a city four hours east of the mountain to spend more time figuring out how to reserve a permit to climb.  Since I only had 10 days time before I flew out of Borneo to meet Jacob, timing was an issue.

Sandankan is a city with an interesting past.  It was once a thriving port heavily involved in the timber industry that depleted much of northern Borneo's forestry.  Surprisingly, Sandakan used to be the home of the world's highest concentration of millionaires.  This is no longer the case as I would find out from a local that befriended me at the airport.
I arrived in Sandakan late at night, not exactly sure of how I would get to the town center.  After I got off the plane, I ended up talking to a local guy from Sandakan that lived and worked in Kuala Lumpur.  He asked me how I was getting to town and I said I'd probably take the bus.  He insisted that he and his family give me a ride into town.  I was hesitant at first, but when I met his elderly mother and the rest of his family, I felt a bit more comfortable. 

CT, as he liked to be called was a Chinese Malaysian and had been educated in London.  He spoke with a British accent, which I never expected to hear coming from a Chinese guy.  It appeared CT's family had profited substantially from the logging industry since he along with his three brothers had all been educated in England.  CT explained that he owned his own business in KL, but was visiting home to see his sick father in the hospital.

CT dropped me off at a hostel in the city center and walked inside to make sure the place looked ok.  He gave me his card and told me he'd be happy to show me around the town after he visited his father the next day.  I thanked him for his offer and the ride and he left.

The next day, I visited the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center, one of only four orangutan sanctuaries in the world.  At 10 AM each day, they feed the orangs a tray full of........(you'll never guess)................bananas and milk, what a surprise.  It was an awesome experience to see these endearing and freakishly human-like creatures up close (especially since I was still bitter about my like of animal sitings in Taman Negara).  Their movements are clearly that of a primate's, but their facial expressions make it seem that they clearly have some emotional intelligence. 



The rehab center's goal is to take injured and orphaned orangs and nurse them back to health.  This involves training them how to climb and find food on their own, which I thought would obviously be instinctive.  Surprisingly, baby orangs must be taught to climb and find food and if their mothers aren't around to teach them, they won't survive on their own.  Some orangs in the center take as long as 10 years before they are capable of surviving on their own and others never even leave.  But, in my opinion, and with my vast knowledge about orangutan habits, I think the link between humans and orangutans is even closer than we know.  The situation is similar to our welfare system in that there are always those orangutans that exploit the program and live off the government cheese or in this case, free milk and bananas.  So apparently, political issues exist even in the confines of an orangutan sanctuary. 
Government Cheese


Later that day, I received a call at the hostel from CT to go for lunch and a tour of the city.  CT took me to lunch where I was introduced to some local food that included chicken and deer satay, which is basically schiscobobs with some fresh peanut sauce.  We also tried a cool dessert made of partially frozen milk, fresh fruit, jelly, and strangely, soy beans - an interesting, but tasty mix.  CT refused to let me pay for lunch and I thanked him graciously.  We later drove all over the city where he pointed out where he grew up and the areas that were heavily developed for the logging industry.  CT explained how the town was essentially a wild, rugged cowboy town back in the boom days where rough uneducated men suddenly became rich by stumbling into the logging business. 

Shortly after the the timber industry took off, the town began to rapidly develop and expand with huge hotels, casinos, bars, and night clubs - hence the highest concentration of millionaires.  This is all much different than it looks today though.  Once the timber started to run out and the government finally stepped in by putting restrictions on the industry, the town began to burn out.  Today, Sandakan is a faded boom town with many abandoned and dilapidated buildings.  Not exactly the most charming city, but travelers mostly use it as a base camp for outdoor related excursions.

Some Spaniards and I with CT
Later that night, I met CT along with some friends I'd met at the hostel for a drink along the harbor.  He took us all in his car to a lookout above the city and later, a famous British tea house, once occupied by some famous author I cared nothing about...nice of him to do anyways.  CT's hospitality was very unexpected and I was wary at first since we don't usually have people that friendly back home.  In the end, he ended up being a nice and genuine guy who was interested in learning about me and showing me his city.  

 After researching my options for hiking Mt. Kinabalu, I decided my best chances of hiking the mountain would be to go directly to the headquarters at the base of the mountain and do whatever it took to get a permit, whether it meant begging, sneaking, bribing, or selling my soul (not all of it, but maybe just part of it).

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Lombok to Bali to Malaysia

I updated my last post with a story about the rooster fight in Lombock, so scroll down to where you see "***Updated***" in the "Back to Lombok" post if you care to read.  I've also posted a good many more pictures under the picture section for the Gili Islands, Lombok, Uluwatu (in Bali), and my latest pictures of Malaysia.

We spent the remainder of our days in Indonesia in Bali trying desperately to find any waves to surf.  On our last day before we left, the waves finally arrived and the swell jumped from 5 feet to 13 feet in one day!  We got up early and surfed Kuta Reef with around 100 over zealous surfers who had also been waiting eagerly for the swell to show up.  There were some huge waves coming through and many people were getting barrels, but with so many people in the lineup it got pretty dangerous.  Later that day we headed to Uluwatu, the famous surf break, where we knew the waves would be even bigger.

Jed had to leave to go back home and we said our goodbyes before I left for my early morning flight.  Jed has been a great travel partner and an even better friend.  I was lucky to have someone like him to share the adventures with and I wish he could have stayed on longer.  Good luck back home, Jed, and I can't wait to get back and relive our stories!

I've been in Malyasia since July 12 and spent the first 2 days in the capital city, Kuala Lumpur.  The city is similar to Singapore, but not nearly as clean.  The people are interesting and most are friendly, but not nearly as friendly as the people of Bali and Lombok.  I spent my first day exploring the city and checked out the Petronas Towers.  The two massive towers are the headquarters for the Petronas oil company are a truly a sight to behold.  The first 5 to 6 stories consist of a huge shopping mall with more stores and people than I've ever seen in a mall, so needless to say I didn't spend much time there.  I spent most of my first day alone without talking to a soul since there seemed to be hardly any tourists around Chinatown, where I was staying. I ate dinner that night by myself and a local Chinese man sitting next to me began talking with me.  I ended up moving over to his table and talking over dinner with him about the U.S. and where I was from.

After dinner, he invited me for a walk around the town and showed me some areas of interest.  Hong, was a retired economics professor and principal who proudly told me about how he'd worked for 34 years with only 4 sick days.  Hong and I talked about many things like the way children should be raised and how they needed discipline.  We walked around for about 3 hours and I ended up buying him one of the local fruit drinks.  Hong was a nice guy and I'm glad I had the chance to talk with him.

On my flight over from Indonesia, I met a German guy named Sevor, who had been traveling the world for the past 9 months.  He'd lived in Australia, working and studying, and traveled to Hawaii, Fiji, and some other remote islands in the South Pacific in search of surf.  We were trying to figure out what we were going to do in Malaysia and decided we would travel together to Taman Negara, Malaysia's oldest national park, where we hoped to trek around in the jungle and see some wildlife.

The jungles of Taman Negara are a buzzing, leech-infested mass of primary forest over 130 million years old. While we were there we decided to give something back so we decided to give blood to the locals -- and by locals, I mean leeches.  To get to Taman Negara, we took a 5 hour bus ride followed by a 3 hour journey by boat up river to Kuala Tahan, the base camp for Taman Negara.  On our first day, we hiked 15 miles into the jungle towards a hide (a primitive jungle hut) where we would stay the night and try to see the Asiatic Sun Bear or a tapir.

Hiking in the jungle could be compared to putting a wet plastic bag over your body and blowing a hair dryer inside to make sure things are warm enough.  Throw in a few thirsty leeches, about 12 billion finger sized monster ants, 9 different species of ultra-venomous snakes, and some of the most dense vegetation imaginable, and you can picture what I'm talking about.  I counted over 20 leeches around my ankles and legs and my shoes were soaked with blood at the end of the hike.  And I am positive I have never sweated that much in my life.  Every square inch of clothing was soaking wet, but hey, that's what we asked for right? Not really.  On our trek, we scrambled up steep trails, over twisted roots and forged our way across rivers.  I learned that Sevor went to school to be a physicist, but after finishing his bachelors, decided to take a year long break to explore the world.  He was a great guy and we had some interesting philosophical conversations about life -- because what else is there to do when you're trekking through the jungle?

After hiking for about 3 hours and not seeing any more trail markers, we began to get a little bit worried.  Judging by the scale on our map, we should have crossed a river and made it to our hide by now.  We kept thinking we might have made a wrong turn somewhere and the guide at the headquarters (who we turned down because we're men and real men don't need guides) told us to be careful not to wonder off the path because aborigines that live in the forest have their own trails.  What!?  People actually live in this hell hole, we thought?  Sevor and I had to make a decision.  Should we turn back now and walk through the night to get back to the base camp by 11 pm or keep going and try to find the hide?  We decided to walk another hour in the direction we thought the hide was in.  After an hour had passed, there was still no sign of the river or the hide.  Crikey.  I told Sevor I thought we should walk 10 more minutes and if we didn't see any signs for the hide, we'd turn back and make the brutal hike back in the dark.  We really, really, really didn't want to hike back in the dark and we especially didn't want to sleep on the jungle floor after seeing the Jurassic Park sized ants and millipedes.  After 5 minutes more of walking, we finally came across the river and trail marker!  Relief!

We crossed the river and finally made it to the hide where we spent the night with 10 other people.  These other people (we'll call them the "cheaters") had arrived at the hide by boat, which took a measly 2 hours and a lot less effort.  We slaved our way through the jungle for 8 hours and looked ragged and war-torn.  We were jealous of their dry clothes and lack of leech bites.  We spent the night there and saw not one single damn animal.  Ahhhh!  It was an experience though, hearing the jungle come alive as the millions of animals started making their night noises.  The animals were so loud you could barely hear yourself talk.  It was also cool to think about where I was, on the other side of the world in Malaysia, in the middle of the jungle, 30 feet above the ground with 10 other people from all over the world, who I've never met.

The next day we hiked back a different way on the trail that the guide at the lodge told us was the "flat" way.  He must have mixed up the trails because the trail back this day was even worse than the day before.  Up and down steep slippery root-knotted trails for another 8 hours.  After 6 hours, I'd finally had enough and trekked down to the river where I hired a boat driver to take me back to the base camp.  I was done with the jungle!

The next day Sevor and I headed back to Kuala Lumpur where we would split ways.  He was heading to Bangkok to meet friends and I am heading to the city of Sandakan on the island of Borneo to see some orangutans, do some diving, and hopefully climb the highest peak in southeast Asia, Mt. Kinabalu (approx. 12,000 ft.)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Back to Lombok

After the Gilis we returned back to Lombok to surf, but sadly, there weren't too many waves to be had.  We got in a few more smaller days at Grupuk Bay on the outside reef, which had a sketchy take-off in front of a huge rock formation.  The next day we surfed at a familiar break called Mawi, where I broke a board.  Jed and I have had a good many problems with boards and bikes on this trip.  So far, I've broken one board and broken the fins off of two, wrecked a motorbike, while Jed has broken the fins off of two more boards.

The small waves actually ended up turning out not to be so bad since we got to experience some pretty unique cultural aspects of Lombok.  One day, Jed and I went back to the surf shop to see our friends, Ebay and Alam.  Ebay invited us to another wedding, which we assumed would be another circumcision ceremony, but he assured us this time it was an actual wedding.  The wedding started around 4pm the next day so Ebay told us to meet him at his sister's shop, where he would pick out some sarongs for us to where.  Jed donned an orange and purple sarong in honor of Clemson, and I wore a black sarong with my tuxedo t-shirt.  We picked up 5 kg's of sugar along the way to bring with us as a gift -- apparently that's a tradition.

Before the wedding took place we sat indian style (just like in kindergarden, only we're not that flexible anymore so it is incredibly uncomfortable) on a raised wooden floor where we ate curried chicken, jackfruit, and rice with our bare hands -- but we were only allowed to use our right hand since the left is for when you use the bathroom.  We watched some traditional Sasuk dancing, skits, and stick fights which looked pretty dangerous.    During the stick fights, two guys lined up opposite each other, then they charged in towards each other and attempted to beat the crap out of one another -- both would fend off blows from the other using a wooden shield.  Finally, one guy dropped his shield on accident and the other guy moved in for a strike.  The guy that dropped his shield turned and ran like a girl, which I can't blame him for. 

We later got on our bikes and followed the bride and groom in their car which was decorated with ribbons.  After we reached the destination of the "wedding march", we all parked and watched as the wedding party and guests lined up in a procession down the street.  Little boys were first, dressed in some traditional looking clothes, followed by teenage girls, and then the bride.  Behind the bride were what appeared to be the equivalent of our brides maids and behind them was the groom.  He had his friends or "groomsmen" lined up behind him and finally all of the friends of the bride in groom at the back of the line.  Following everyone was a 6 foot tall set of speakers hooked up to 3 guys playing electric guitars and about 6 guys with varying sizes of drums.

After everyone is lined up, the music begins and the procession starts the march down the street.  The blaring indo-rock sounds like a Muslim version of Metallica.  Way too hard to explain, but it was very odd to hear heavy metal combined with traditional Muslim music.  On the sides of the street, everyone is watching and cheering.  There's so much energy being pumped out by the guys playing the music and by the procession of people both in and on the side of the street.  Our friend Alam shows up and tells us we have to go join the procession. "What?! We don't even know these people.  They won't want us in their wedding," we said, but he didn't even give us a chance to say no, before shoving us in the line of dancing Indonesians.  Alam then grabbed Jed's video camera and recorded the whole thing.  Dancing in the procession was awesome and all of the people were welcoming and studying our dance moves.  Many of the girls kept asking if we were married and complimented us on our traditional unrythmatic "white man" dance moves such as "the sprinkler", "the grocery shopper", "the lawn mower", and everyone's obvious favorite, "the funky chicken".


Well, it's getting late here so I need to get to bed.  I am now in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and am heading to Tamara Negara, a remote jungle, to do some treking for the next few days.  I still need to write about how we were invited to a cock fight in an even smaller village in Lombok and how we ate the loser at Ebay's mom's hut for dinner.    Will try and update and post pictures gain soon.

Good news: My friend Jacob is coming to meet me in Thailand for a month of travel.


***Updated***

So I left off last time where we got invited to a cock fight in an extremely small and remote village outside of Kuta, Lombok by our friends Ebay and Alam.  While we don't condone the sport, we didn't want to be rude and decline the invitation.  Also, there's a slim chance that either of us will be working for PETA when we grow up so we thought it might be ok to watch.  Ebay calls the rooster fights Ayam (Indo for chicken) Kung Fu, which he thought was hilarious.  The village Ebay took us to was really basic and many people lived in simple huts with thatched roofs.  Most people had a cow tied to the hut with several chickens and ducks running around freely.  Ebay took us to the back of the village where the men were supposed to be fighting the roosters.

Cock fighting is technically illegal in Indonesia, but some of these places are so remote, I'm sure it goes unnoticed all the time.  We walked up to the pit where the men were congregated and they stared at us in amazement.  I'm not sure too many white boys have been in their neck of the woods before.  We weren't sure if it was ok for us to be there, but Ebay assured us it was and I began passing out cigarettes (I don't smoke, but they come in handy as gifts) like candy to the village men.  They were happy with this and then we watched 2 roosters fight.  They insisted that we bet on the roosters and Jed got to choose his rooster first.  From the start, I could tell my rooster was a bit of a sally and would probably lose quickly, which actually ended up being the case. 

My rooster tussled with Jed's for a few minutes and then bolted away in the opposite direction.  The men immediately busted out in laughter as my rooster headed for the hills.  One of the men quickly snatched my rooster by the tail and put him in a bag and proclaimed it, "The loser."  He handed the live rooster to me and said, "You take."  Ok, "I take," I said, but what were we going to do with a live rooster.  Ebay said we could take it to his mom's house and she would cook it for us to eat that night.  Problem solved.



The loser
So, we ended up dropping the rooster off at Ebay's mom's house and were told to return that night for a traditional Sasuk dinner.  We returned later that night to watch some traditional Sasuk dancing, which was still a part of the wedding celebration from the day before. Later, we sat down with Ebay's family and ate the loser and drink some of the local rice wine.

Later, we walked behind the area where the dancing was taking place in a small patch of woods where men were gambling.  Jed joined one of the games which involved betting on a character such as a crab, lizard, fish, or frog and rolling dice to see if a your character came up.  I think he ended up breaking even that night after going down a bank busting 20 cents.

The generosity of Ebay and his family, the food, and the rice wine were incredible.  We've only known Ebay for a couple of weeks and he has shown us so many things most people never get to see.  Later, we thanked him profusely for showing us his culture and headed back to Kuta.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

The Gili Islands

After the swell dropped in Lombok, we decided to take a vacation from our vacation by heading to the Gili Islands.  There are three islands off the northwest coast of Lombok, about an hour's ferry ride away.  We chose to go to the largest island, Gili Trawajangan.  There's not a whole lot to do on the island except relax, snorkel, and go diving.  On the ride over, we met a Dutch guy named Jordick, who we spent the next six days with.  Jordick is traveling in Indonesia for two months and had some interesting stories to share.  One story involved him ending up sleeping in a bed with three other Javanese men on the big island of Java.  He told us he arrived into a small town late one night without a place to stay so a friendly Indonesian invited him to stay at his house.  Jordick accepted and endured what he said was one of the most awkard night's of his life.  Nothing bad happened, but the thought of 6 foot 4 Jordick sleeping in the sweltering heat with three other really short men was hilarious to us.  He said he barely slept, but he got up the next morning and thanked them for their hospitality.

Gili is probably even more beautiful than Lombok and the water is crystal clear.  A few interesting things about Gili:

-There are no dogs, only cats.
-All the showers you take are with salt water.
-There are no cars or motorized vehicles; only horse drawn carts, bare feet, and bicycles.
-There are no police on the island so any problems must be reported to the village chief.   

We planned on spending 3 days in Gili, but ended up staying for a week.  We went diving one day and snorkeling another, but that's about the most energy we spent the entire time.  Since Jed isn't certified to dive and it had been 5 years since my last dive, we took a refresher course to refamiliarize ourselves (Jed has gone diving multiple times in Australia, so he wasn't too worried).  The dive was pretty fun, but probably not the best, despite the guidebook's claim of Gili being one of the best dive spots in the world. Others have told us that Bali is actually better, but enjoyed the dive anyway.  The rest of the time we spent laying around doing absolutely nothing and the most stress we had was deciding where to eat lunch and dinner -- which was painfully cheap. I figured Gili would cost us a lot more money, but we found some cheap digs to stay in only a few steps from the water AND it included a free banana pancake breakfast -- all for a measly 5 dollars a night.  Despite the somewhat arduous trek to reach Gili, there were a good many tourists on the island, but we didn't mind too much since we'd been away from much civilization in Lombok.   

There's not too much else to report on Gili since we spent most of our time relaxing.   We eventually decided to part ways with our friend Jordick and head back to Lombok to surf.  I was torn between surfing and going with Jordick to see the Komodo dragons on Komodo Island, but I figure I can always see the dragons on National Geographic so we decided to head back to Kuta, Lombok.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Lombok Continued...

After surfing Grupuk Bay for a few days we took the 1 hour drive west to another break called Mawi.  Even if the waves end up being small, the drive through the valleys and farmland surrounded by towering green mountains covered in palm trees makes the trip on the terrible back roads worthwhile.

Luckily, the waves were the opposite of flat when we arrived with no one out.  We met a couple Aussie guys (a father and son) traveling together along with another Kiwi.  It was late in the afternoon when we arrived and Mawi was breaking in the 8-10 foot range -- now we know why no one was out.  When Mawi is big it's a big jacking left hander with a steep takeoff that'll allow for some nice barrels.  With it being so late in the day and the heavy cloud cover it was pretty eerie especially since there were only a few of us out there. The Aussie guys talked us into paddling out and showed us where the channel was.  We caught a few waves and narrowly escaped the beat down these waves were trying to throw out.  Eventually, one got the best of me and my leash broke, which made for a really fun swim back in as I got pounded by 3 or 4 more big ones.  The Kiwi broke his board on the next wave and we figured it was time to call it a day.

From 4. Lombok, Indonesia

By the time we left, it had gotten dark and we had to make the long drive back up the steep gravel road in the dark.  What made matters even better for me was that the lights on my bike went out so I got to make the extra fun ride back home with no lights.  Trying to stay in between the guy in front of back of me was all I could do to try and use their lights to see the potholes.  Luckily, I made it back unscathed.

The next day we took a boat trip to another break called Eckes.  To get to Eckes, it's a 30 minute drive by bike and then another 30 minute boat trip.  We paired up with the Aussies and some other English guys we met to split the boat ride to Eckes. On the way their, we had to go down a super steep incline covered in huge potholes and gravel.  Their was no way all of us could make it down without falling off so of course I went ahead and volunteered to fall off.  I ended up flying over the handlebars twice on the way down and luckily only came away with a few scratches and bruises.  The worst part was that my board broke when it got crushed by the bike.  Thankfully, I was able to borrow the worst board I've seen in my life from a local kid at the boat pick up.

From 4. Lombok, Indonesia

We finally made it to Eckes and there were only a handful of people out.  Everyone was hesitant to go out when we pulled up since it was almost the peak of the swell.  I estimated the wave faces to be around 10-12 feet, but the Aussie guy swore there were big one's coming in around 16 feet.  It took us all a good 10 minutes to even get out of the boat -- the shear size and remoteness was pretty intimidating, but again the Aussies convinced us to paddle out.  It ended up being one of the biggest and most fun sessions of our trip and definitely my life.  Big rolling waves that throw over into some pretty heavy barrels were coming around this point and making a 90 degree turn to break.  It's an insane sight to see, but we loved it.

On the last post, I think I mentioned that we got invited to a wedding ceremony. We brought some sugar with us as a gift and followed our host's on their bikes to a small village about 20 minutes away.  When we got their we were invited into the host's house, which was basically just a hut with bamboo walls and a thatched roof.  We all sat down in a circle indian style where they brought us loads of food (spicier than any of us could handle) and even cigarettes on a platter -- awesome.  Everyone was really friendly and welcoming. The father hosting the party welcomed us with a big, "Hallllooooooo," and we thanked him for having us.  There we many more people outside the hut socializing and playing really weird, but good Muslim Sasak music.  Maybe I'll get them to burn me a CD.

Eventually, we got around to asking where the bride and groom were and they said, "Oh no, this not wedding.  This cut deeck ceremoney."  "Cut deeck?" we asked.  Desperate fear rushed through our heads as we realized what they were talking about.  Did we just get invited to get circumsized?  We politely said "No thank you, and they laughed at us and explained that the ceremony was for boys in the village.  Thank God!  Our friends, Ebay and Allam later explained this was just the party for circumcision, which we were invited to attend the  next day. I'm not too sure we wanted to see that, but we planned to leave for the Gili Islands the next day anyway.

From 6. Back to Lombok

Riding around on the back roads of Lombok is like stepping back in time.  Seeing all the people living so simply makes you think about all the things back home we take for granted like clean running water and reliable energy.  Women here walk around with baskets on their heads and the men wear traditional Muslim/Sasak clothes while working with hand tools in the fields.  Most of the people live in basic bamboo huts with thatched roofs, but they seem content with where they are.  When we drive around many of the kids run up to the road and scream, "Halllllooo," and some give us high fives.

From 4. Lombok, Indonesia

The people here don't seem to have been influenced much at all by western culture, but I think things will be changing soon once the new international airport is complete, which is scheduled for some time next year.  For investors, now seems like it would be a good time to buy land here before all the tourism comes.  With Lombok's location so close to Bali, it's inevitable this place will change -- some for the better and some for the worse.  Overall, the people are optimistic about the coming change as it will be mean more chances to make money, but hopefully they'll maintain their culture.

Lombok has been our favorite place so far and we hate to leave, but we know there are many more interesting things to see around the corner.  Our next stop, the small island of Gili Trawajangan -- population 800.  Will try and post more pictures when we get back to Bali and the internet speed picks up.