A Bowl of Stupid

Taking a brief moment from responding to the emails I received while I was out "gone surfin" last month, I wanted to address a problem that's arisen in conjunction with my maintaining this blog — essentially this:

One of the main reasons I continued this blog once I started traveling was to provide some 'on the ground' guidance to others who may also be interested in the future in taking the same, or similar, trips as I have. I know I could have benefited from some of the information I've posted up on this site, and I wanted to 'pay it forward' … such as it is.

Truly, I've been able to live out the initial dream I had when I left the States, the dream of surfing waves that look EXACTLY like (or even better) than the break shown in the header of this blog — it is a gift for which I am eternally grateful.

However, I've also bitched — also on the blog (and elsewhere) — about the sheer number of 'surf-tourists' I've had to contend with in previously little known surf spots throughout Southeast Asia. Indeed, as has been pointed out, I myself am one of them — albeit in attendance at such spots for longer periods of time than some others (in all honesty, one of the biggest problems we 'surf-tourists' face are uber-rich surfers — mostly from America — who can afford to take 2-3 weeks out and pay thousands and thousands of U.S. dollars to charter boats, or stay in luxiurious resorts, or even buy property to use for 3 weeks a year. All this while we, the reletively 'under-funded' stay for months on end in modest surroundings, simply trying to find some good uncrowded surf-breaks.

It's a bit of a connundrum — how to repay the locals and others who helped me to obtain the gift of riding such great waves, while also not making all these great breaks super-crowded and not being a complete dickhead by 'hiding' such breaks for fear they too will be ruined next surf season for the uber-rich (or even the not so uber-rich).

It's for that reason that I've decided to do what I never thought I'd do (and never wanted to do) — I'm going to start censoring the information I write on this blog. Oh, don't worry, I'll write privately whatever notes I feel I need to remind myself about various breaks and spots I visit. But I'll no longer be making them public.

Sorry guys, but I'm done giving out this type of information when all it does is make the breaks more crowded for me (and the small number of other guys who choose to 'explore'). Yeah, I'll probably write a bit about the Philippines, since I already wrote about them last year. But once I head out into the Pacific — you're on you're own.

I know it sounds like a really dickhead move (and it probably is), but from now on, go find your own break … keep it off my wave.

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Not really much to write about at the present. I'm just enjoying my stay here in Bangkok before leaving again back for Rote, Indonesia in three (3) days.

I've said it before and I'll say it again — Bangkok really is a great town. But it also has a tendency to drain money from your wallet at an alarming rate (and this is coming from an ex-pat who's living here — I can only imagine how much money all the tourist 'falangs' are forking out while here on holiday).

Just today, I bought a new rice cooker, a French drip coffee pot, and new headphones for my iPod. This is in addition to the books and DVD's I bought to take with me to Rote, as well as all the movies I've been seeing (including the new 'Speed Racer' movie … which sucked on too many levels to discuss right now without suffering a cerebral hemorrhage), and the new clothes, and the yoga classes, and the coffees, and the lunches, and the dinners, and the nightclubs.

It's kinda like Miami — it's so good it's bad.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to plan ahead — like I said, I leave again in 3 days. I really need to get out of this town and back to the peace and quiet of Indonesia before I go broke … or wind up marrying a Thai hooker, whichever comes first.

Okay, I'm off to go play poker with a bunch of Swedes — dammit, there's another 1000 baht I'll never see again.

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I'm still here in Sumatra - having a great time, which is good since I may wind up being STUCK here because …

I can't get any of my fucking money!!!

Before I left, I arranged to get my funds out of a savings account I opened with AMTRUST DIRECT. Great, right?

Wrong!!! It's been over a month and the motherfuckers STILL won't give me my goddamn MONEY!!!!

With all my free time, I'm in the process of filing a formal complaint with the Office of Thrift Supervision against this bank and would love to use any other current complaints in showing the issues inherent with this bank.

The motto of this bank appears to be to keep the funds in tow at all costs. In other words: Keep away online account access from consumers, charge consumer's service fees for anything they can and then make up an excuse as to the reason for it, or keep away interest payments from consumers or keep funds in tow with holds that are GENERATED by the bank themselves intentionally.

I am trying to compile information to determine if there is criminal neglect and or fraud going on with this bank. I have spoken to multiple people over at the bank including a supervisor and the answers were not satisfactory. I believe a formal inquiry into this bank needs to be made by the OTS for the ONLINE DIVISION.

So now I;m in the process of documenting all the MANY issues I've had with the bank — apparently I'm only one of legion — and I've gotta email the full complaint including my personal identifying information to consumer.complaint@ots.treas.gov.

For anyone else interested, you can also contact the OCC at:

Northeast Region
Consumer Affairs
Harborside Financial Center Plaza Five
Suite 1600
Jersey City, NJ 07311
(800) 253-2181
(201) 413-7541 (Fax)
(Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Vermont, West Virginia)

Mutha-fuckas!!! How ya' like me now?

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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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(A view down Phloen Chit from the Sukhumvit line BTS station)

One of the best things about traveling abroad with (relatively) no time limitation and (relatively) no agenda is the ability, and indeed, the tendency to randomly meet a larger range of people than you might otherwise by simply living in one place. Indeed, one of the reasons I initially decided to leave Miami was due to my ever-diminishing circle of friends — whether due to marriage, relocation, diverging interests, or whatever.

Since then, however, I have been alternatively blessed and cursed to meet some truly amazing people throughout the course of my travels. The blessed part of this is, of course, getting to meet such great people. I now have people I very much want to go visit all throughout the world — the UK, France, Australia, the Philippines, the Netherlands, Sweden, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, and yes … even India (among others). The downside is that, due to the transitory nature of my life, I don't get to spend much time with these folks which, to put it simply, really sucks.

It truly is one of the larger issues in my life right now — how to regularly deal with new 'best friends' whom, in all likelihood, will soon lose that 'status' whenever one, or all of us, move on (or goes home).

Another, and connected major, issue is the fact that I have no home. As I've mentioned previously, my friend who was so kindly putting me up in his extra room in Singapore has since 'flew the koop' — he's moved back to Miami with his new fiance. Similarly, my other mate who was letting me crash on his couch in Singapore will, in all likelihood, be moving back to the States in the near future (plus, staying with him was never a long term option anyway; indeed, I haven't even been back to Singapore since early last November).

However, another benefit of living with (relatively) no time constraints or agendas is the ability to simply 'ride the crest' of whatever wave may be passing by at any particular time — both literally and metaphorically.

Presently, due to a bizarre sequence of events I'm not at liberty to discuss, this 'wave' comes in the form of the ability for me to take over a friend's lease here in Bangkok for 1-2 months. Initially, I thought twice about doing it since surf season in Indonesia is just about to pick up. However, after thinking on it for a bit, I thought it just a bit too coincidental that an opportunity like this would come up right now.

• Right now, when I've just met (and/or gotten to know better) some really great people here in Bangkok who have already taken me in as one of their own — just when I've been lamenting the transitory nature of my traveling friendships.
• Right now, when all I really wanted - needed - was a few weeks (at least) to relax and catch my breath between surf trips, like I would do in Singapore last year — just when I was contemplating quitting my travels en toto because I just wanted to sleep, with no pressure to stay, somewhere safe and comfortable for a little bit.
• Right now, when I was already looking from India and Sri Lanka towards Thailand as a place to take a deep breath and restore a sense of myself again after 4 months on the road.

Given these coincidences, it seemed the right thing to do, y'know?

Don't get me wrong, I'm still heading to Indonesia for a surf trip in a few weeks. But at least I've got a home to come back to — which, quite candidly, is a greater comfort than I ever thought it would be.

And no, it's not perfect. I mean, I've been living in bamboo huts for the greater part of the past year, and Bangkok is a huge, modern, crowded, bustling city (very similar to NYC, in my opinion). And Bangkok is more expensive than India, Sri Lanka, or even the rest of Thailand (again, think NYC vs. rest of USA).

But it's still relatively cheap (around US$250-300/mo. rent at a good location about 1/4 block from the Skytrain). And I have friends here I'm looking forward to spending time with. And the rail and bus lines are easy. And the food is both diverse and delicious. And English is spoken pretty much everywhere.

And most importantly, I have a place to call home for a month or two. Tonight, at last, I am coming home.

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Hey! Look who I ran into last night here in Bangkok!!

Either that or I'm still hallucinating from all the laew Khao whiskey I drank at and/or after (it's still not clear to me which) the MTV Party at my friends hotel here in Bangkok. Uggh, just kill me now.

The party itself was great. I went to dinner with some friends I met down in Rai Lay Beach before heading over the the hotel rooftop, where the party itself was being held. It was a great venue, Rob Garza from Thievery Corporation was in attendance, as were some other great DJ's. All in all, a fun time … from what I remember, of course.

Sho Nuff!!

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It's 4:00 a.m., I'm up all night in another random airport for the second time in 3 days, and I'm jacked up on a whole boatload of Nescafe instant coffee. This is the part of traveling abroad that they never tell you about on National Geographic Explorer.

Welcome to my fucked-up little corner of the world.

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(My host in the Filos, Matt Jacka, and the rest of the 'crew' heading back from our boat trip to Daku Island)

UPDATE: For anyone interested in heading to Siargao, please let me know (feel free to contact me directly at the email address above); I can provide information on the variety of homestays, bungalows, and resorts in the area, depending on your price range - all of them run by really, really nice people.

I had been planning on putting up this post — the 'down low' on surfing the Philippines — for a long time now. Hell. I had most of it done while I was still surfing in the Philippines, but I got distracted from actually posting it by all the surfing and fun I was having. Admittedly, much of this info has been pilfered from other people, but you know what they say: 'good writers borrow, great writers steal."

Anyway, this type of 'down low' is usually a big 'no-no', as you want to keep as few people from finding out about your favorite surf breaks (less competition for waves). However, chances are that most of the people reading this dribble would never venture from the States simply to go surfing, let alone head to the Philippines. So, for anyone planning such a trip (snicker), and interested in learning about the great surf breaks in the Philippines … well, here ya' go. If you're planning on heading there in April-May, lemme know, I should be back there by then.

Siargao Island, an island in the southeast of the Philippines, is blessed with spectacular beaches and crystal clear waters in an idyllic tropical setting. Thankfully, it is also one of the very (read: only) places in the Philippines that gets consistently good surf coming in from the depths of the Pacific Ocean.

At Siargao, the sea bed drops to 500 meters, then to 1500 meters just a mile off Tuason Point and Tuason reef (where I saw the most incredible triple-overhaead left-hander I've ever seen in my life — EVER). Thirty miles from General Luna (GL), it's 10,000 meters deep (that's Mt. Everest plus another 3,000 feet). Typhoons in season pass GL from the northeast, which bring in even bigger waves from the deep water.

CLOUD 9
A barreling right hander that is the most well-known break but only one of the many surfing spots on Siargao Island. A short boat ride out in the lagoon beyond, can take you out to Rock Island, Stimpy's and a few more breaks, stretching right up the east coast to Pilar, Pacifico and Burgos. Just a short walk from Patrick’s is a great break called Cemetery named after the cemetery that is located right on the beach facing the break.

JACKING HORSE:
A jacking peak that explodes on to a shallow reef, then tapers off and then reforms on the inner reef, mainly breaks right, with a short left, good to surf at 2` to 7` foot, medium to high tide is about the best time to surf.

BOMBORA OR POO SHOOTER`S:
A fast barreling left that run along a reef then turn right and runs into deep water, best with no wind or a light south west breeze, It is in viewing distance from the beach. There is a right and left hander 150 m to the north of Poo Shooter`s where you can either paddle across from Jacking Horse or hire a boat.

STIMPY'S:
A first class left-hander that wraps around a small island into a cove. Fun under 4 foot, but becomes a lot harder breaking over that size but still perfect breaking. Great tube and will handle large swells. Accessible only by boat, but it's within viewing distance from the shore with binoculars.

TUESDAY ROCK:
An excellent right hander that peels and barrels for 200 yards off Rock Island. Best with no wind low to medium tide and can hold swells up to double over head. Accessible only by boat, viewing distance from shore with binoculars.

SHIFTY'S:
A right hand reef break just south of Pilar inside the river mouth of Pilar, near Santa Fe, best at low to medium tide, south to south west wind. Fun right hander at 2 to 4 foot but will hold larger swells.

PILAR LEFT HANDER'S:
There are 2 left breaks; one breaks in front of the wharf of Pilar and the other breaks close to the township of Pilar.

CARIDAD LEFT OR SUPERTUBES:
This awesome left barrel breaks on a jagged reef ledge, east to north east swell is the best, protected from north west to south west winds which are off shore.

PACIFICO:
A long barreling left a bit upcoast that breaks down and along a reef & rocky ledge.

TUASON POINT OR CLOUD BREAK:
A very hard breaking left that jumps up 200 yards off shore and comes in and runs down over a shallow rocky reef, with great big holes. This is a very powerful and hard breaking wave. Wave selection is crucial at this break, 4 foot and over is the best.

CEMETERY's:
A left and right that breaks between a gap in the reef, directly in front of the General Luna cemetery. Northeast to southeast swell is the best for this break with a southwest to west wind. Accessible by boat (or via a really long paddle), viewing distance from shore with binoculars.

DAKU ISLAND:
There are 2 right hand breaks, one at the top of the island and the other in the middle. They both like north to north east swell and south to south east winds. You can also find other breaks good for learners and body surfing.

PANSUKYAN REEF:
This needs a medium to large swell direct from the east to southeast with light, southwest to west wind. This wave looks like an up side down tear drop shaped barrel that runs down a reef. The wave jumps up out of the ocean from nowhere.

PARADISE:
Right of the Beaches in Union is a beautiful break – nice for beginners.

LA-JANOZA, MAM-ON, ANTOKON, ANAJAUAN ISLAND:
There are another 4 or 5 perfect breaks and many others around these islands. Mamon Island has a beach break that can give you rides of more than 150 meters.

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(map of Sri Lanka — for your reference and files)

I've thought long and hard about how to begin this particular post, given the fact that my sister may eventually read it, and she in turn will eventually tattle on me to my parents (just like when we were kids … man, some things never change). The easiest way is this:

I will never NEVER hesitate to ask for directions again. EVER!

As mentioned previously, I headed up here to Kandy to get my Indian Visa - boarding a train in Mirissa (Matara) in the far, far south, that I was told (repeat: TOLD) went through Colombo and then straight on to Kandy.

Yeah, not so much.

I probably should have first noticed something was wrong when the train hit a military checkpoint set up by the Sri Lankan Army to the north of the town of Vavuniya, Sri Lanka. It was only then that I learned — through a series of conversations in broken English, Singalese and Tamil — that I was not on the train to Kandy. Rather, I was on the train to Jaffna.

As in Jaffna, Sri Lanka's northern-most peninsula that is mostly under the control of the Tamil Tigers, the rebel insurgents fighting the Sri Lankan government. As a quick background for anyone not following the latest news on this (i.e., mostly all Americans, myself included until recently), Sri Lanka has been squeezed in the grip of a bloody civil war for the past 20 YEARS — the Sri Lankan Government on one side and the Tigers ('LTTE') on the other. There had been a toothless 'cease-fire agreement' in place for the past couple of years, but that too was formally dissolved just weeks ago after a string of violent clashes between the government forces and the LTTE.

Now, it appears the country is heading back to war. A civil war. A bloody, nasty, unnecessary, ridiculously over-extended civil war.

Fortunately for the surf-tourists, the violence has, for the most part, not extended into the island's southwest area — at least the far southwest, where I was surfing. In contrast, from all reports, the northern area is a cauldron of violence not suitable for tourists or locals alike.

So, through my own ignorance and stupidity, where did I wind up taking a train ride to? You got it — the absolute heart of the Tamil rebellion. Man oh man, sometimes I really do live up to the title of this blog.

Don't get too riled up, sis — I didn't stay there for long. In fact, my stay in the north can be counted in seconds, not even minutes. Shit, I didn't even actually make it into Jaffna proper. Instead, the absolute SECOND I realized where I was — when someone who read English pointed it out for me on the map, at which point I promptly flipped out — I literally jumped off at the next stop, ran across another set of tracks, and jumped on the nearest train heading back in the other directions. No, I'm not kidding. In fact, I may have been screaming like a little girl at the time, but I can't quite remember.

I didn't ask where that southbound train was heading. Frankly, I didn't care.

I had seen how some of the other (ever-increasingly Tamil) passengers were looking at me as I was trying to glean our location, and I had visions of the next days headline:

"In other news, an American tourist was taken hostage today in the Jaffna region. Officials are unsure why this tourist was even in that war-ravaged region, despite warnings …"

So yeah, I ran away like the little bitch I am. And yeah, I'm okay with that.

Any of you war correspondents out there who want to size up — okay, you win the big brass balls award. I'll give you that right now.

No kidding, being in a war zone while you're actually at war is fucked up enough (although I've been prepared to do it). But heading into a war zone just for the hell of it? Man, that's just nucking futs!

Luckily, the trains here in Sri Lanka run almost 24 hours a day, so I eventually found another train heading over to Kandy from the ridiculously obscure area I eventually found myself back down in the south. But what should have only been a 5-6 hour train ride instead wound up taking me about 12 hours.

I'm now in Kandy, but I have to wait a full week to get my visa due to the national holiday on Tuesday. So I've been walking around the lake, up the hills, and around the town. The city is beautiful, despite the massively overt military presence (everyone seems to be carrying an automatic rifle — I've an absolutely comical picture of a sign at an ATM stall with a circle and slash through it, prohibiting not cigarettes … but automatic rifles. I shit you not).

And instead of Tigers, Kandy seems to be infested with monkeys and bats (and the occasional elephant). And I got bit by some guys dog (he was kind enough to run inside and show me the vaccination documents, tho). Hey, the dogs, monkeys and the bats ain't carrying automatic weapons or munitions, so I'm cool with 'em.

They say that every adventure isn't an adventure while you're going through it. Yeah, maybe. But I'm guessing there are easier ways of having an adventure than by inadvertently wandering behind enemy lines.

Jiminy Crickets, can't we all just get along? I mean, really, I only came here to surf. To hell with this, I'm heading back down south until my visa comes through next week.

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Well, THIS definitely isn't good — for anyone.

Despite the surf being what it is and my need to get an Indian Visa up in Kandy, I'm currently rethinking the plans I have to travel to that precise region next week. I'm okay here down south (for now), and I'll keep everyone in the loop.

All my best wishes to those hurt and killed in the violence, and to their dear families as well. Namaste.

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If only I'd known then what I know now. Dammit if hindsight ain't a bitch.

As mentioned previously, the last 7-10 days of this trip have been absolutely great. Thankfully, I can barely remember the dark and stormy times of my initial 3 weeks here on Siargao. Most, if not all, of the good times can be traced to the efforts of several members of a local long-established clan, to whom I owe a great thanks.

I also extend a thank you to them in advance of todays island hopping trip — running from local island to island for surf, sun and sand — culminating in a BBQ on their private island. I shit you not.

Also, as the onshore winds have dropped during the last week as the weather changes, I've been able to go out in the water surfing — Daku Island, Guiwan, Jacking Horse, and Quicksilver — pretty much every day for the past 10 days. I swear, there's nothing like some time in the water to clear the head. Everyone gets pretty ugly when there's no surf — myself included. In contrast, now some of the same guys who gave me the evil eye just last week are joking and laughing out in the water with me — but they could just be trying to soften me up for later, it's too soon to tell (just kidding, but not really).

I've also been able to see first hand how Cloud 9 - the local 'big spot' - got its name. Although I haven't seen it 'hit', I can tell how, in good conditions, the break is EXACTLY like backdoor Pipeline. It was only 1.5 overhead yesterday and it was spitting buckets. Just fantastic — for someone who can surf.

I've also stumbled upon a potential side gig — teaching (or at least 'leading') yoga at some of the foreign hotels. It started out as just trying to organize a few people to do yoga together, and it culminated in my leading a class to teach the basics for some of the guests and locals.

The best part — I got free espresso from the hotel where we did — the ONLY place in the Philippines I've found that doesn't serve 'Nescafe' and call it coffee. A real cuppa' joe! And free!

Yep, this place is starting to grow on me…

That stated, I'm still pretty fucking excited about heading to Hikkaduwa, Sri Lanka next week. I've heard some really nice things about the island country. I've also heard that it's in the midst of a civil war and it's virtual suicide to travel to the north side of the island.

But let's try to keep a lid on that part of it, huh? Thanks, sis.

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Well folks, given my history of injuries and the active lifestyle I pursue, one would assume I would have gotten injured much earlier during living abroad. Thankfully, I haven't … until now.

The good news is that it was nothing too major, and I should be fine (I don't want to jinx anything, cuz there is still potential for infection). The bad news is that I'm probabky gonna have a really nasty scar on my left knee and I won't be surfing for the next week or so until the stiches are sufficiently healed.

It was only 2 days ago when I decided to stay here in the Philippines for a full month. I made that decision based partly on the quality of Mahi-Mahi here, and also figuring that although I've not yet felt the right 'vibe' here, I should at least give the place a chance. As part of my preperations for staying the month, I rented a room with a kitchen so I can cook my own meals rather than having to constantly dine out. I also rented a motorbike so I can go to the markets in town to buy food and other supplies, as well as to ride over to the various surf breaks not within walking distance.

Yeah, some of you can already see where this is heading.

Anyway, the surf on this side of the island has been pretty dismal for the past several days — the northen winds blowing out any significant waves left from the 2 typhoons in the area. I had heard, however, there is a decent surf spot up towards the northern tip of the island. Yesterday morning, I decided spur of the moment to check it out.

I never got there.

I took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. Don't ask me where I made the wrong turn or where I wound up, because longtime resdents here on Shiargao that I've asked can't even tell me where the fuck I was (ironically, one person who did know told me I was up near a place called 'Salvation'). All I know is that almost immediately after I turned off from the main road, the 'road' — usiing the term euphamistically — changed from flat pavement to an unpaved path consisting mainly of huge puddles of mud and rocky hills.

Every so often I stopped to ask directions — each time being reassured in broken English that yes, this REALLY was the proper way to the north end of the island. Based on these directions, I continued on until I literally ran out of road (the road turned into a walking path that turned into a drainage draw, that finally ended on the beach next to a comicaly small fishing villiage). There, I was told (read: wildly gestured to) that I had indeed gone the wrong way and I needed to go bAcK almost to my starting point and take a completely DIFFERENT (and paved) road north, since where I was wasn't actually a road.

I had just turned around to make the trip back towards the main road when the heavens opened up - WIDE open. If you've never been to the tropics, you really should make the effort to do so. It is a remarkable thing, You can't imagine just how much water can fall from the sky at one time until you see it in person. It really is amazing.

Anyway, the 'road' almost immedaitely began to flood, resembling a small creek more than a road. I hadn't gone more than 50-100 meters after turning around before I hit a steep rocky incline. My my back tire hit a slicked up rock and slid out from beneath me. Thankfully, I was only going a few km/hour at the time, so I avoided any serious injury.

After falling, I picked up the bike and took it to the top of the incline where I better could take a survey of any damage — both to me and the bike. Luckily, I was able to keep the bike from getting too damaged by cushioning its fall with my body. My left leg, to be precise. I was pleased to first see that my left foot had only some minor scrapes that would heal in a couple days. But then I caught sight of my left knee, although it didn't really hurt.

I'm not sure how it happened, but when I looked, I saw a huge gaping wound right below my left kneecap. Specifically, in a rough circle about 2 inches in diameter, the skin was simply gone, exposing the tendons and other tissue below.

It really didn't hurt, but it looked knarly as hell.

I was (and still am) more concerned with infection, considering I had to ride the bike back through the 10-12 kilometers of this flooded and rocky 'road' before even making it back to solid pavement. Every time I came to another muddy expanse of water in the road, I had to pick up my left leg in the air so as to avoid spraying any 'goo' up inside my exposed kneecap.

I remember thinking to myself that this was turning into one hell of a long bike ride, however, as soon as the rain stopped and I got back on solid pavement, I'd be able to get the wound quickly attended to.

Err, not so much.

My trip back to the main road was long, but reletively uneventful. However, once there, I fell victim to my own expediency. See, the exit point back onto the main road was about halfway between the main towns of General Luna ('GL') and Dapa. As I am staying out past GL (where most of the ex-pats are), I decided to hit the medical clinic there, so as to avoid a long drive home after gettting treated.

When I got to the GL clinic at around 11:30 a.m., I found that the doctor doesn't come in until 13:30 (1:30 p.m.), and I would have to wait another 2.5 hours before I could get stiched up there. Instead, I got back on the road and headed back again where I came from — towards Dapa — specifically, the Dapa hospital. Well, I guess you could call it a 'hospital.'

It actually bore more semblance to an auto-body shop than what we in the West would call a 'hospital.' My first clue in this regard were the chickens wandering around just out front of the building. My second clue was the dog that wandered into the 'operating room' at the smell of my blood — looking for scraps, one would assume (No, I'm NOT kidding. I couldn't make up this shit).

I wasn't able to get treated when I first got there, since the only doctor in the hospital was busy delivering a baby. So, after having already left my kneecap exposed to the elements for a couple hours, I would have to wait a bit longer until after the little brat was ushered into the world (just kidding … but not really).

Now, I truly believe that how one deals with adversity is a sign of their true character, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So yesterday, I was particulally self-concious about not appearing as just another self-absorbed American looking for special treatment while screaming 'don't you know who I am?!?!" (although I was, admittedly, feeling a little like that inside).

For that reason, I didn't make a big deal about getting hurt in the first place. Nor did I bitch about having to drive back from GL to the Dapa hospital. I was not about to start losing my shit now, especially considering there was a local Filippino fisherman also there, stolidly waiting for treatment after getting his calf ripped apart by a moray eel.

An intake nurse looked at my injury and told me how much it would cost — 50 pesos for consultation, and another 75 pesos for the stitching. Le me repeat that, the entire treatment cost the equivilent to about US$3.00.

She also told me what I'd need to get for my treatment — sutchers, a needle, bandages, and a local anesthetic. I was given a prescription of sorts, and then told to go to the pharmacy in town to buy the equiptment. I paid 10 pesos (about $.25) to a guy on a tricycle to take me there and back. And after I got my suppies, I sat there silently waiting for delivery (quite literally). The total cost for all those supplies was only about another US$5.00 (admuittedly, the antibiotics I bought afterwards were sorta expensive, about US$50.00). So, it was a total cost of about US$8.00 to get treated (man, Micheal Moore's movie 'Sicko' was good, but you can't really grasp just HOW fucked up the US medical system is until you get treated outside the country).

Anyway, the baby refused to accomodate our schedules, and after a time, the doctor and trauma nurse from GL came to Dapa (ironically, they didn't even open the clinic in GL, but instead came straight to Dapa to help out in their E.R.). The fisherman rightly got his mangled leg treated first (apparently, the moray eels out here can be downright vicious). The 'OR' was open to the public, and various members of his family and the general public who happened to be there (myself included), wandered in and out surveying the proceedure.

Once again, this guy was so quietly stoic about the whole thing that I was concerned about looking like a weak-willed American when next it came my turn to be stiched up. Fortunately, I have a uniquely high pain tolerance. Unfortunately, I also have a really bad habit of giggling like a madman in response to severe pain.

As they got started on my knee, we all realized just how fucked up it was (is). Not only did I tear out a huge chunk of flesh, but the adjacent skin that remained was ripped from the tissue underneath, leaving a 'hole' under the skin. I know from prior experience that is the real danger (when I was in college, I had torn my right calf muscle resulting in an abscese that got infected and almost killed me due to my lack of treatment). It was also tricky due to the placement of the injury. I've heard this before, but I was reminded again yesterday that the knee is one of the hardest places to treat an injury.

The doctor and nurse were, however, absolute professionals when it came to cleaning and debriding the injury and stiching me up. Indeed, but for the dog looking for scraps and the locals looking to see if the American would start screaming in pain, their treatment was better than some I've received back in the States. They even gave me a mask and let me sit up to watch the proceedure (except when the local started wearing off and I started giggling like a nutjob). The hospital staff was also extrememly kind to me, and I thank them all immensely for their help.

I'll probably have a nasty scar on my left knee, but if the drugs do what they're supposed to do, I think (hope) I'll be fine. I'm taking some pretty powerful antibiotics for the next 7 days, just in case. During that time, however, I won't be unable to go in the ocean. So, no surfing for the next week. No worries, I'd rather get healed up (plus, the winds have picked up, making the waves unridable for the next 5-6 days anyway).

I go back in a couple of days for a check up (I hope I can make the US$3.00 consultation fee), and hopefully any chances I'll be healed up in a week. I just hope no more dogs wander into room.

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Those of you who, to your great misfortune, have been reading this dribble for some time, may recall my discussion several months ago about the movie 'A Crude Awakening' and the phenomenon of 'Peak Oil'.

As noted in that post, the movie shows that the ever-diminishing supply of petroleum will have effects that, to the modern industrialized world, will make global warming itself seem like a walk in the park. According to experts, first will come oil-based political disputes between the West and those areas still producing the larger amounts of oil (cough, cough, … Iraq, Iran, Nicaragua, … cough, cough).

Next come inflated petrol prices, the collapse of international economic markets, and various other economic and political upheavals in (or caused by) those Western countries most reliant on foreign oil (cough, cough … fuck it, you know I mean the US).

Then finally, the utter collapse of Western civilization as we know it.

At this point, if you pay attention to foreign media reports, you can already see where this whole thing is heading. If not, well then … enjoy your turkey, you bloated fucker.

I say 'foreign media' because, as of the time of writing this (early Thanksgiving morning in the U.S.), there are absolutely no significant stories in the U.S. online press (i.e., CNN, MSNBC, Yahoo/AP News, etc.) discussing the issue that seems to dominate all the foreign press today — sky high oil prices and the effect on the global markets.

In contrast, both on TV and in print, BBC World, Yahoo International, and the International Herald Tribune, are at the time of writing, leading with the story of how:

'World equities were hammered Wednesday by soaring oil prices and fears over the global economy, with steep falls in Asia and Europe after volatile trade overnight on Wall Street, analysts said.'

Briefly, for those of you who aren't aware, oil went up to its highest price ever today — just shy of US $100 per barrel. The causes apparently pertain to US 'policies' in West Asia, production issues leading into the upcoming winter months, and, since barrels have always been priced by the US Dollar, which is doing poorly on the international markets, the barrels just ain't worth as much (as it were).

You would think that this, combined with the fact that the UN just published one of its most scathing reports about the state of global environmental issues, would be some cause for concern. Or at least a front page news slot.

I guess not.

Rather, at the time of this writing, in contrast to (what at least I consider to be) this very important global story, CNN America's lead story is … wait for it … wait for it …

'3 charged with causing Natalee Holloway's death.'

What. The. Fuck.

With those fucked up priorities, I'm guessing the new Shrek float in the Macy's Parade will be Wolf Blitzer's lead story on 'The Situation Room' tonight.

This post initially was going to be about how all that shit they talked about in 'A Crude Awakening' may perhaps, despite the recent oil discoveries in Brazil, all be starting to come to fruition.

Indeed, we are, as always, one bad bottle of Tequila away from all-out war in West Asia. We are slipping quickly into a global recession (or at least, a US recession). And, as noted, oil production is down and demand is up - leading to the highest petrol prices in history.

And yet, when I research to find some US media reports on all of this, all I could find there is a stunning investigative report on how workers are inflating the Scooby Doo balloon for Macy's 81st Annual Thanksgiving Day Parade.

For that reason, I didn't go off on the whole 'doom and gloom' scenario … again.

Instead, I went off on the state of the US media … again.

I know some of you may think all I do is sit here and think about ways to bitch about the media and the government back in the States. But I honestly don't see it that way. I don't go looking for this kinda Anti-American type of shit — it just come to me.

Regardless, you may have a point.

I really shouldn't complain about the state of 'journalism' in the US today. Really, the press is only giving the American public what it clamors for.

So, for Americans, that means CNN issuing a breaking report on how the Macy's Day Parade this year will be featuring the cast of "Legally Blonde." Whereas in the rest of the world, it means reporting on how they'll be feeding themselves in the next couple years.

Yep, maybe you guys are right — it's good to be the King.

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Transcribed: 24 June 2007, 19:01:27

(Once again, I'm posting this just as I had written and later typed while these experiences were still fresh in my mind. In retrospect, I think I was being unduly harsh on myself and my surfing prowess (or lack thereof). I had been asking myself to completely change my style and form after having surfed a particular way for 15 years.

It's not gonna come overnight, and it's not gonna happen in some of the best, and hardest, waves in the world. If anything, this post is good in that it conveys the sheer frustration I felt after suffering days and days at a location I had - quite literally - given my entire life away for. But in retrospect again, I'm more frustrated now that I let those feeling of ineptitude take away from the experience.)

(A view of my favorite places in Indo - the incredible never-ending left at Desert Point. However, neither this picture nor the others of this, Scar Reef [below], or others can show just how amazingly fast these waves are breaking, or just how shockingly shallow the water and how nasty the reefs where all these waves break. Seriously, the waves break faster than anything else I've ever been on, and they do so in about 2-3 feet of water, right over razor sharp reef - which you can see all too clearly due to the extreme water clarity. This may be another reason why I was a bit "mind-fucked" when I was actually out there.)

Preface

For as long as I have been surfing, I have been using long and round surfboards – known to Australians as “Malibu” boards, or “Mals” for short (which itself is ironic, given that they are not called that in Malibu, California, from where the term originates).

Being bigger, Mals provide a much different type of surfing experience, and are typically not ridden as "hard" as the shortboards that everyone now associates with surfing.

In my mind, however, it was never really an issue of ease of effort. Rather, in my mind, Mals were just better for a nice fun ride on the big, slower waves that rise up along the continental shelves where I first took up the sport in earnest (California).

Moreover, I ride “regular footed” – a right footed stance with my left foot forward and my right foot back closer atop the fins to “steer” the board. A regular stance makes it easier to ride waves that break towards the right (i.e., “rights”). Conversely, people who ride with their opposite foot forward (a.k.a. “goofy footers”) can easier handle waves that break to the left (i.e. “lefts”).

That being said, most of the waves I have ridden in my life (i.e., in California and the Americas) have generally been “rights” that take the Pacific’s southern swells and rise up to meet the continental shelf – all of which catered to my surfing strengths (for lack of a better term). As such, I have always been a very limited, and very uncomplicated surfer.

In other words, I kinda suck.

However, in preparation for my sojourn to Indonesia, I had been diligently working on becoming a better and more diversified surfer. In this regard, I did the following:

– I switched to a much shorter surfboard – moving from my 9′1″ and 8′2″ Malibu long boards to a 6′10″ short board (although I was able to use the short board only once before I left the U.S.).

– I bought a 2 wheeled “Wave” skateboard that helped me practice my balance and board control, and to achieve the sharper “cuts” and other maneuvers done on short boards.

– I have, quite literally, been reading various books and articles on how to best ride “backhand” (i.e., taking left facing waves while riding “regular footed”) on Indonesia’s predominately “left” facing waves.

Now, however, I am faced with the real deal.

Most of the waves here in Indo are big and fast “lefts” rising up directly out of the deep waters of the Indian Ocean and dropping – without the benefit (or detriment, depending on your viewpoint) of a long journey and continental shelf to raise up the water before curling it into a wave.

(Another view of Desert Point - this one taken from one of the ubiquitous "luxury yachts" that haul in by the dozens those guys that can pay the money)

These waves are very different – and are quite remarkable when you see them personally.

Unlike the waves in the Americas, which will rise up above sea level upon their approach to the land, the waves here literally just drop upon reaching a reef or island – resulting in something that looks as if there is a wave “cliff” separating two distinct bodies of water, one resting 10-20 feet above the other.

It’s pretty freaking wild.

And if you’re not used to it, like me, it’s pretty freaking scary.

(One of the best breaks on the Island of Sumbawa - aptly called "Scar Reef")
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