A Bowl of Stupid

Well, after spending an interesting few days travelling from Bangkok, through Manila and Cebu city (via air), Surigao city (via overnight ferry), and Dapa city (via fast ferry), I'm back at the place shown in the above photo — General Luna, Siargao Island, Surigao Del Norte, Philippines.

The trip wasn't, however, without it's issues:

I'm in an island paradise on the very western edge of the Pacific Ocean. I went out for a surf ths morning (small, but fun), and I'll be here for another month.

Sweet!!

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(Rote, Nusa Tenggara, Indonesia)

Okay, I put up on my Flickr Account the first batch of new picture from Rote, for those of you that still give a crap (which pretty much comes down to Manny and the other random stragglers that accuse me of plagiarism … on the Internet! — don't worry I'll get to that …).

I'm leaving Bali in the next couple hours back through Jakarta, and then back to Bangkok later tonight. Home sweet home … such as it is.

I'll be there a couple of weeks before leaving for the Philippines … at this point, probably for the remainder of the summer. We'll see how it goes, right?

Finally, for everyone that wrote to me (both publicly and privately) during the last few weeks while I was away, I plan on doing a 'group response post' — addressing each of the comments, suggestions, compliments, and, in one case, an interesting 'call out' on some television script writing I 'borrowed' from (ahem) about 200 months back.

To all of you (including you, Pat), thanks for taking notice, and hopefully I'll give y'all something else good to get pissed off about soon enough. Until then, just chill out and take a look at the photos from Rote (which I ALSO stole … hahahaha!).

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So … I'm back in Singapore, en route to my next surfing destination.

I left Bangkok yesterday morning and I've stopped over in Singapore to visit with a friend, pick up some long-lost supplies, and generally get my shit in order before heading back down to Indonesia for the next month.

Among such supplies is my camera's USB cord, which I left here in November when I thought I'd be back in only a few weeks. Now, almost 5 months later, I've FINALLY been able to upload the pictures from my recent trips HERE (the Philippines), HERE (Sri Lanka), and HERE (India) (sorry, no pics from Bangkok — my camera went 'tits up' a few weeks ago).

Oh, and Manny? … TK?

Just in case both of your busy 'work schedules' keep you from browsing through all of those pics — there's a picture showing the aftermath of my Sri Lankan sea urchin encounter HERE, and another showing the result of my motorbike accident from the Philippines HERE.

Enjoy 'em, you sadistic fucks (but I mean that in a nice way).

Anyway, I've also been planning on swinging through Kuta, Bali on my way out towards 'all points water' to pick up requisite surfing supplies (wax, ding repair kit, fins, etc.). Kuta ain't my favorite place in the world, but unfortunately, it's one of the few — if not the only — place in all of Southeast Asia where surfing supplies are available (ironically, Phuket also apparently has one lone surf shop, but I wasn't going to risk a trip just to find they had nothing I need).

Apparently, however, the second coming of Christ is happening in Bali this month — because every single fucking flight from Singapore to Bali is booked for the next 10 days (except first class tickets — which we all know I don't qualify for). This has left me just a BIT flustered, considering that last summer I was able to get a cheap flight to Bali almost instantly.

Luckily, I learned that I'm not as dumb as I thunk I is. Apparently I've either got a guardian garden gnome or had the foresight to leave myself a care package here in Singapore — replete with surf wax, an epoxy ding-repair kit, and even extra fins. Nice!

So … fuck you Bali, hello Sumatra! (Krui, southern Sumatra … to be precise).

I've heard some pretty good things about the place — including the fact that it's not TOO crowded yet. Considering the number of surfers I saw in Indonesia last year, I'm not holding my breathe. But all in all, I'm pretty stoked about checking out the Sumatran mainland. If things go well, I may even head up to the Mentawai Islands and/or Nias while I'm down in the area. We'll just see how it unfolds.

Rather than wasting US$800 on an unnecessary flight to Bali, I can take a flight from here to Jakarta (and then onward through Bandar Lampung) for only US$35.00-US$45.00. This stuff just confirms my thinking that, if you just don't force it, sometimes these things just have a way of working themselves out.

I hope to pick up the plane tickets later today, and then I'll be leaving over the weekend. I'll keep writing whenever I find Internet connections, so keep in touch. Stay well and have a good month, everyone. Peace, out.

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The latest edition (March 2008) of Atlantic Monthly contains an altogether disconcerting article entitled "Marry Him!", which can essentially be boiled down to the following excerpt:

At their core, many single women pose one of the most complicated, painful, and pervasive dilemmas they are forced to grapple with nowadays: Is it better to be alone, or to settle?

My advice is this: Settle!

That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in movie theaters. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a family, settling is the way to go. Based on my observations, in fact, settling will probably make you happier in the long run, since many of those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with each passing year.

No, I don't think the author, Lori Gottlieb, is trying to be 'ironical.' And no, I don't want to think too hard on the fact that much of her theory is based not on empirical data, but rather, an analysis of several American television shows — Friends, the Mary Tyler Moore Show, Will and Grace, and, of course, Sex And The City ('SaTC').

For purposes of this article, let's just assume the premise that no in-depth discussion of the modern female condition would be complete without a critical analysis of SaTC. I wonder if the author is gonna have a conniption fit when she finds out that Carrie Bradshaw is getting married to "Mr. Perfect' (i.e., 'Mr. Big') in the upcoming SaTC movie. (No, I haven't seen the script or the trailer, but c'mon — it's a movie about an unmarried 40-something 30-something horse woman geared towards attracting an audience of similarly situated women whom ALL look forward to their wedding day the same way most men look forward to a nice T-Bone steak — let's just call it an educated guess.)

That said, based on these obviously well-reasoned theorems, the author claims that:

[Most women], like me, would rather feel alone in a marriage than actually be alone, because they, like me, realize that marriage ultimately isn’t about cosmic connection—it’s about how having a teammate, even if he’s not the love of your life, is better than not having one at all.

Good grief, I thought I was a disillusioned cynic, but this broad far surpasses me in that department. Truly, I don't want to even think about the size and quantity of skeletons in this woman's closet that would make her sink to this level of premeditated desperation. Really, I don't.

I am, however, admittedly curious as to the general reaction by the female ranks to this article — one better suited to Marie Claire or Cosmopolitan magazines than to a purportedly respected journal such as the Atlantic.

Have things gotten so bad that the USA has devolved into nation full of desperate women willing to dismiss major character failings (oh, and lest we forget … halitosis) in favor of simply having a full-time companion about whom they can kvetch to their girlfriends? Because if the majority of American women feel, as the author of this article does, that it's about time they too settled for something a little (or a lot) less than perfect … well, then I guess I should catch the next flight back to the States!

Is this really what 'true love' has been reduced to in the minds of contemporary success-oriented adult women:

So if you rarely see your husband — but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear, and he provides a second income that allows you to spend time with your child instead of working 60 hours a week to support a family on your own — how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?

Aww honey, shush … you had me at 'mundane.'

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For anyone still playing — or interested, for that matter — I'm happy and healthy and back on the beach in Krabi (Railai Bay), Thailand.

Honestly, after India, I feel like a giant weight has been taken off of my shoulders (and out of my guts). I'm eating again (pad tai by the gallon) to regain my strength, I'm rock climbing again to regain my balance, and I'm partying again for the first time in months with all my really good friends from Singapore and Bangkok … to regain my cirrhosis of the liver, I suppose.

I am, in a word … happy. And that's an understatement.

I head back to Bangkok on Friday — my friend is throwing an MTV Asia party at his hotel on Friday nite, with Thievery Corporation and several other really great DJ's on scene. After next weekend, though, I'm not sure where I head to next. All I know is that I want to get back to some really nice surfing, but I'm not quite sure where.

Any suggestions?

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Yes, I'm finally in India - what a fascinating country shithole! And what better way to celebrate this auspicious occasion than for me to immediately book a flight to Krabi, Thailand.

Yes, India is just THAT good.

The presence here of what I had feared most — rabid European tourists and ego-driven nuevo-hippies everywhere — has indeed come to pass.

I originally planned on staying in India for 2 full months practicing my yoga and getting some further training should I ever wish to pursue it as a career in the future. However, I've since learned that most of the yoga ashrams and schools here — and especially those specializing in Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, which is what I practice — are a complete farce.

On the one hand are the loads and loads of 'yoga centers' catering to all these Westerners who have been led to believe that the best practitioners MUST be in India since that's where modern yoga developed. That's complete bullshit. My brief experience has confirmed what others have told me — you can probably get just as good, if not better, training anywhere else in the world.

Then, on the other hand is the fact that yoga practitioners here, and especially in Mysore, which is known for being 'ground-zero' for ashtanga training, in fact produces bigger egos than true ashtaga yogis. Most of the guys here project a real ego-driven sense of "I'm more at peace than you are, and I can prove it!!" Fuck that, if I wanted to sit in a room full of bitches comparing how flexible and happy they are about living with no money, I could have gone to any ONE of the many fabulous nude bars in Miami and had a much (much) better time.

I know, I know … don't be hatin' on India. Yeah, I guess you're right … it's not ALL that bad.

I mean, the food here is probably some of the best in Asia — I actually enjoy eating vegetarian cuisine when it's prepared THIS good. Plus, all the wannabe hippies with their long flowing gowns and ponytails DO make for excellent dinner theatre. And as an added bonus, all the garbage burning throughout the day makes for an absolutely beautiful sunset.

Okay, granted, you really shouldn't go into the ocean unless you want to bring a pet parasite back home with you. But then again, the numerous packs of stray dogs and the occasional elephant you may encounter whilst trying to walk back to your room will more than make up for any 'wildlife' you may otherwise be missing underwater.

So, rather than stay here any longer than necessary, I'm going back to Thailand in a couple weeks to meet up with friends from Singapore before they all head back to states for good.

I've got a multiple entry 3 month visa, but I'm not really sure for how long — or even if — I'll head back to India. Moreso, given the continuing escalation of violence in Sri Lanka (one of the same private buses that I took to leave Kandy on 1 February was blown up by Tamil terrorists the VERY next day, killing 18 people and injuring 55), I fear it's not safe to travel there again until it all resolves itself. Instead, I will go back through and pick up my surfboards on my way to Thailand.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a hater, I'm just drawn that way.

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With the exception of a few well place 'Frenchies' here and there, I've never been particularly fond of the French to begin with.

Admittedly, I was never one of those rabid folks (i.e., dumbass Americans) who started referring to my french fries as 'freedom fries'. However, I always found the air of superiority wafted out by the majority of the French — together with a considerable amount of body odor, as well — more than just a bit distasteful.

If it weren't for their considerable history of promptly surrendering to any (and all) of their neighboring countries on the continent, perhaps that attitute may be justified. As it is, however, I have more respect for the guys working the late shift at the local 7-11. Until I meet a thousand more guys like these two great blokes in the Philippines, my opinion stands. Sorry.

That opinion now seems even more justified after the run in (pun intended) I had yesterday with 3 of the biggest kooks — all French — that I've ever met in my life. Three Frenchies were out in the water yesterday hooting and hollaring (perhaps they were trying to surrender to the Sri Lankans), and just getting in everyone's way.

One of them sat right in front of me while I was up on a really nice wave, looking me in the eyes and doing nothin else to move or otherwise allow me to maintain my position on the wave. I had to ditch.

Another dropped in on me while I was up on waves, not once, not twice, but three times in only a 1 hour session. Fucker.

The third of the group (part 'trois' if you're counting in French, which I doubt, because if you're French, chances are you're off looking for someone to surrender to) ran right into me while I was in the whitewater paddling away from him so he could ride his wave in peace. But instead of riding the wave, he turned right towards me before realizing there was something in his way. Upon reaching that conclusion, he ditched his board, kicking it right at my head (perhaps he thought it the best way to surrender). I moved just in time for it to hit me square in my right calf, which is now sporting a huge muscle bruise.

No apologies, no nothing. He just paddled back out. Nice. Three more reasons for me to go out for some 'freedom fries.'

Post script: My foot is now pretty well healed up, with the exception of the 1 or 2 remaining smaller spikes that are now poppin out randoming like zits on the face of a rabid Hannah Montana fan. Thanks to all for the concern (read: horror).

And in response to Jayne's crazy question as to what body part I will injure next for my rapt (read: cold and bored) audience, I now have both an answer and a reason why: my right calf, and because some French kook with a surfboard ran into me out in the surf.

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Although this is being posted while I'm out exploring the temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia for a week, I wrote this while I was still in Krabi, Thailand again for a few days before heading up north here to Bangkok.

Although Krabi was great (as usual), I've been a bit distracted from the typical goings on of rock climbing, snorkeling, swimming, laying out on the beach, and getting ridiculously liquored with the rest of the tourist backpacker set (you know it's bad when you've got to head to BANGKOK to detox from going a bit overboard). Regardless, my mind has been elsewhere; and depending on what happens in the next several days, so may the rest of me. I'll explain (in part, at least least publicly).

However, before getting there, I first want to quickly explain something:

Well before I left the States, and even before I started writing this blog, but for a few exceptions, I have tried to avoid like the fucking plague writing about (or discussing) the romantic relations I've had in my life - past or present.

Frankly, the main reason is because I haven't been in a relationship I felt warranted any discussion (either publicly or privately). Moreover, I also don't feel my personal life is worth reading about — everyone since the beginning of time has been though similar things, and one more jackass writing about love and loss and loneliness would be, to say the least … superfluous.

Back to the point — as I've said before, I decided to travel abroad with the two-pronged intention of exploring new places (admittedly, in large part looking for surf), as well as trying to learn something about myself that may allow me to live a happier and fuller life. It seemed like an eloquent enough reason to forgo romantic relationships, which I've recently had little interest in pursuing anyway. Rather, my priority is on the exploration of the world, not people.

No offense, but I really just don't trust any of you fuckers enough.

Maybe it's a mistake to think that way. But quite frankly, it hasn't really bothered me much, since I've never really met anyone that I felt was not worth the trouble. This is something that may or may not come across in my writings as much as I think it does; but regardless, it's always there … abrupt melancholy disbursed in between the sarcasm and searching.

Now, only several short months after I first started this international 'Vision quest', I find myself questioning the underlying precepts which initially led to the journey and its accompanying dismissal of any potential relationship.

Don't get me wrong, Ive met some extraordinary people in those few months. There have been some really great mates –Ozzies, Brits, Dutch — all of whom I look forward to reaching out again to in the future. There have also been one or two women whom, like my past relations, I liked enough that I may have superficially pursued them if I was still living a stable, lawyerly-type life back in the States. Y'know, working the courtroom, driving the Saab, hitting the bars, … being a dick.

However, just as in the women in my past, none came close to having the ''potential" such that they would make me alter my plans - travel or otherwise.

With that being said, there is just such a potential — albeit it involves someone way back in the States. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony (I know, I know, I'm stealing movie quotes all over the place).

Everyone has had that moment — where you're walking down the street and you meet another person's eyes, and you smile (as much as to yourself as to the other person), and you both just kinda know there's a "connection."

And nine times out of ten, you both just keep walking on to your respective appointments - walking on through your respective lives - knowing there was a connection but never taking the opportunity to find out if that person was … well, that person.

Continuing the metaphor, it seems that, despite having flown to Asia on this little 'mission' of mine, I have been stared down by just such a woman. And while she's still residing halfway around the globe, it would seem absolutely criminal to not at least stop and talk to her over a cup of coffee or 50.

Shit, if I've gleaned anything recently, it's that when you see an opportunity, you do NOT let it pass you by. Make hay while the sun shines.

Now then, … having provided that extremely long (and most probably, final) explanation, back to the matter at hand — as plans now stand, Southeast Asia will have to survive without me for at least the month of October. The next stop on the "Bowl of Stupid World Tour 07′-'08′ — right after Cambodia — will be Boston, Massachusetts. Yes … THAT Boston.

Yeah TK, I know, I know, … God help us all.

Sorry kid, but I gotta go see abut a girl.

P.S. Oscar Wilde paraphrased an ancient Latin dictum, observing that when the gods wish to punish us, they grant our wishes. Er … yep, that sounds about right.

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(The daunting skyline of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)

Despite the above picture, I'm now in Bangkok.

I'm here after having visited Railai Beach in southern Thailand … again. I was there at the time the airplane crash only a score kilometers away in Phuket. It was obviously on everyones lips and minds — and feeling a type of kinship to the people vacationing who were on the flight — I feel especially sorry, and would if possible, wish the best for them and their families.

I'll write more about the trip to Railai and Bangkok in a few days when I have some extra time, but before I do, I will say this:

I swear, every time I go to Railai, I stay another day longer. Several of the local guy s have becomes good friends of mine, and it's now almost like a second 'home base' in Southeast Asia. They are real great people, and even after only being in Bangkok for a few days, I'm starting to think the Thais are the nicest people I've met out here so far.

Plus, I've heard that the Laotians are even MORE laid back, and even MORE friendly. And if that's the case, I think we should start exporting them to places like Arkansas and Utah to make those motherfuckers loosen up a bit.

Anyway, back to the original tale — I left Singapore last Tuesday morning (11 September), taking an 8:00 a.m. bus from Singapore up to Melaka, Malaysia, which is about 2.5 hours to the north, on the southwestern coast of the Malaysian peninsula.

I was planning on heading straight up to Kuala Lumpur ("KL"), but I read that Melaka has a particularly interesting history. As a uniquely situated port town, Melaka has been 'settled' (read: 'conquered and exploited') by the Dutch, the Portuguese, the Chinese, and - of course, like everywhere else in the region - the British. As a result, there is a unique colonial feel about the town. While exploring Melaka, at times I felt like I was walking around one of the Caribbean port towns that were also 'settled' by the Dutch and the British.

And while Melaka (and all of Malaysia, for the matter), is nowhere nearly economically advanced as Singapore, the country - and Melaka especially - is not anything near what I had expected (notwithstanding that I've already been here, but on the East Coast to go diving at the relatively secluded 'resort island' of Tioman).

Malaysia is, in my opinion (based on my own limited experiences), a mixture of Singapore and Indonesia. Whereas it appears to be economically (and speeding towards being similarly socially) advanced, the fact that it - like Indonesia - is not a secular state has, in some part, stifled it's development until just recently (unlike Singapore, a strictly secular state).

I will say this, however. If given the opportunity today to invest or start a business (import/export or something akin), I would probably choose Malaysia over Singapore at this point. They are just as forward thinking, yet lower costs for goods services (and tarrifs, from what I've heard). In fact, due in part to the financial and political stability of the country, Malaysia apparently has more annual tourists than does heavily toured Thailand.

Regardless, Melaka itself is a unique town. I stayed in a small guest house in their Chinatown (they also have a Little India with some amazing southern Indian food, just like Singapore). But the charming facade of a small, former-colonized port town - developed over the course of many hours walking through the town - was quickly stripped away when I came across the new 'Melaka Mega Mall.' And while this newly completed mall pales in comparison to even the smallest of Singapores' ubiquitous 'megamalls', it is an ultra-modern facility with ubiquitous Motorola (phone) stores, Quicksilver stores, and of course the parasitic Starbucks coffee dens.

In the end, although Melaka's downtown is historically compelling, it's Chinatown is quaint and fun, and the mostly Chinese and Indian populous are really nice people, after having lived in Singapore for a few months now, it was almost the equivalent to a resident of NYC or Philly heading down to the Jersey shore for the weekend (only I've NEVER met anyone in Jersey - or NYC or Philly - as nice as the people in Melaka).

The same can be said for Kuala Lumpur, where I arrived this afternoon after another 2 hour bus ride north from Melaka (making it about a total 4 - 4.5 hour trip from Singapore). To be honest, and in all humility, K.L. is NOTHING like I imagined.

I thought KL would be akin to Jakarta - a huge metropolis, a boiling mass of energy and drive, yet encumbered by outdated social morays and corruption and little direction or focus. In contrast, KL seems to be modeling itself after Singapore, Taipai, and the other up and coming financial and cultural outlets of the Far East. Obviously, I've only been here less than a full day, so I can't have any true idea of how the city or country is run. However, in comparison, the attempts by Indonesia and the Philippines to integrate themselves into a global economy (while, thankfully, not necessarily losing their own religious and cultural background) seem absolutely primitive in comparison.

Probably also due to the obvious benefits of being in a relatively 'booming' economy, the locals are still pretty friendly and nowhere NEAR as pushy to make a buck as the guys in Indo. However, it's also still more than a little disheartening to see how effectively, and how quickly, Malaysia has been swallowed up into the new 'global community.' Hell, KL has a much better symphony orchestra than most of the major cities in the USA (see Miami, for example).

Nor would I ever suggest that 'poor and uneducated' KL, or its diversity of peoples and cultures, or its well-tended infrastructure (the great metro-rail system in KL is simple and incredibly effective) are even CLOSE to those Americans beleive to be the best in the world. Indeed, I wouldn't dream of comparing KL's effective public transport to similar systems that have been promised and thwarted for years in Miami (assuming they are ever completed after all the corrupt Miami politicians take out their 'finders fees').

Shit, I guess it pays to have a 'democratically elected' leader and a 'rubber stamp' parliament/congress that pushes through public works rather than, oh … I don't know … invading another sovereign country (God, that man's a jackass).

Again, don't get me wrong — I don't mean to suggest that KL, Singapore, Hong Kong, Tokyo or Taipei in ANY way match ANY of the metropolis' in the USA in terms of urbane sophistication.

On the bright side, I'm still pretty sure the USA is leading the world in humility.

P.S. Stick around, big news about the tour.

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(one of the many pictures from Nemberala, Roti, that I've started posting on Flickr)

I'm back in Singapore, after spending an interesting day traveling from Kupang to Surabaya to Jakarta to Singapore on Thursday.

I neglected to post anything here on Thursday or Friday, however, as I took that time to order a much needed thin-crust pepperoni pizza, check on necessary logistical matters, talk to some people back in the States who I thought may want to know I was alive (my parents, chief among them), and to shave off that goddamn beard I had grown after having not shaved for over a month.

I swear, Kara had a great idea (one which I squandered in favor of pride and expediency) of taking before and after pictures — one prior to a shave and haircut, and one immediately afterward. Honestly, I do look about 10 years younger after the grooming.

Anyway, one of the other things I've been doing (other than washing my cloths … repeatedly), is posting up to my Flickr pages some of the great pictures I got while I was in Indo this past month. Arguably, I didn't get as many as I probably should have; however, taking pictures tends to lose precedence in light of actually living in the Utopian conditions I experienced.

Regardless, take a look at some of the pictures. Feel free to comment, and I'll start catching up about the trip, my next destination, and whatever other irrelevant nonsense I deem appropriate before I head out in a couple of weeks to Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam for a couple of months while waiting for surf season to start up in Papua New Guinea in the late fall.

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First off, I'm feeling much better today. Thanks to everyone concerned who commented, emailed, and otherwise checked up on me about yesterday's debacle. Much appreciated.

Second off, just in case anyone didn't realize, I think this pretty much confirms the fact that I am a complete and utter dumbass. When someone can't remember from one hour to another whether they've already ingested the maximum daily allowance of potentially fatal drug compounds — that's saying something. Just what, I'm not quite sure. But I'm pretty sure it's along the lines of "you sir, are an idiot."

That being said, following my somewhat serious post from yesterday, I initially wanted to lighten things up today. However, I saw something this morning that dictates otherwise.

I have long attempted to steer clear of discussing the Middle East and the ongoing conflicts between Israel and it's neighbors. It is an extremely difficult situation with many diverse views, and there is no clear answer in sight. Moreover, having been raised Jewish, I am expected to automatically side with the Israeli position, regardless of its faults.

But alas, I can not.

Today, new information has come to me (via ZenShadow) which makes my decision a virtual "no-brainer." As such, I must now throw in my lot with the peoples of Beirut for the following two (2) reasons:

And could someone also please drum up a copy of the Lebanese national anthem for me. I've got a date tomorrow night.

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