The pics from Singapore are up.

I went for my first deep water water dive. It was also my first time diving with Nitrox (helps you stay down longer because of higher oxygen content). My instructor decided this would be a great time to do a negative dive (you dive with no air in your BCD basically you just sink right off the bat). The place we were diving in was too deep for anchors so when we surfaced we would have to signal the boat and just wait. Now let me tell you the best part this was it was going to be a blue water dive, meaning you have no reference points as you descend, all around you there is nothing but blue. The only way you know which way is up is by watching your air bubbles move. Even my instructor who has dived here for years had to use a compass to figure out which way to the reefs. I was just starting to think we would be in this blue environment forever when all of a sudden underneath us fish city came into focus.

Big and small fish moved around as if on major highways. Schools of fish full of fish that were each 2-3 feet long swam by while bright blue shellless snails crawled on the ground. These were the biggest fish I had ever dived with and every once in a while you would see one that was at least 4 foot long just swim by you. And to our left on the bottom taking a little nap was a 5 foot long white tipped reef shark. We stared at it sleeping for a few minutes then it woke up looked at us and swam off. At 100 feet this is the limit of recreational diving but it is simply amazing. A scorpion fish ( they look like a big rock) made an appearance as well and as we were getting ready to leave another white tip shark swam by this one was at least 6 foot long but as we were leaving we couldn’t stay and check.

This is what I want to do every day, meet people from all over the world, hear their stories and go dive. Make new stories with new people in them and that’s just not going to happen in LA so the job hunt will be on when I am back home in a few days.

This post was going to start with ” I hate the Philippines” it’s still my least favorite travel destination out of all the places I have visited but I don’t hate it anymore. I hated it at first because I was in Manila and Manila reminds me too much of Tehran and I absolutely can not stand being in Tehran. I hate the traffic, the pollution, the fact that you had to argue every Taxi fare or major purchase and all of those things are true in Manila. Add in an unstable political situation, armed guards at every major building, army troops everywhere in addition to the local police and booths in front of major banks that said deposit fire arm here before entering and you realize why I was a bit nervous in Manila. Thankfully I headed off to Borocay and it has been a much better experience.

Last night changed some of the feelings I had towards my last host country after I spent 5-6 hours drinking with a bunch of people I am going to list below in no particular order.

1 Brazilian guy who played the guitar and loved football of course.
1 American guy who is a former Blue Man group member, was teaching English in Korea and is trying to start a music career in Manila now. He’s been playing the guitar for 6 months and has a kick ass voice.
1 Canadian guy who runs a theater agency in Bangkok is an actor who is modeling to pay his bill currently. He also played the guitar.
1 Australian girl who is a consultant for an American software company and was in Manila for some training and decided to come to Borocay for a few days. She had also spent 3 months in Africa traveling around the continent before the software gig.
1 Irish girl who has been teaching English in Korea for 3 years had a German/English double major in college and plans to move to Chicago soon.
1 Korean couple on their honeymoon, just out having a good time.
1 Philippino lesbian chef working at a major hotel in Manila, she had decided to just skip work and come down for a break.
1 American from San Francisco in Manila to train some people. Nice guy but reminded me way too much of people I couldn’t stand in San Francisco, went home early and I was glad for that.
1 The guy who owned the bar we were drinking in
1 our waiter
2 Guitars
2 Bongos
1 bamboo thing filled with seashells

We had 3 guitar players and everyone took turns with the other instruments. In the background the waves crashed on the white powdery beach, bright stars lit up the moonless sky and lanterns shone over 3 foot high sand castles. And this is still my leave favorite travel destination.

I am addicted to Oreo cookies, I am not sure when this happened but at some point I started to eat dozens of Oreo cookies a day. I wonder if there are support groups for Oreo cookie addicts and how would one go about admitting this horrible horrible disease to ones family. These are the thoughts that go through my head as I feel a mixture of cold water and guano soak through my shoes and my last clean/dry pair of socks. Tall people do not make for good cave explorers as I try to find something to push against and turn my body. I am lying chest down in a cave that’s about 2 feet tall and maybe a foot wide. The tunnel makes a 90 degree turn to the right and if that’s not bad enough it turn up about 60 degrees. The guide and the Malaysian college students had a bit of trouble negotiating this spot which means I am really going to struggle making it. I finally kick off leave a bit of skin behind and make it out of the tunnel. I am standing in a cave and about a foot away right in front of my face there are thousands of small bats hanging upside down. There are grown bats, baby bats, old bats and all of them are busy producing the guano that I am covered in.

If I am happy as can be it’s not because I have any particular attachment to bat excrement rather the events leading up to this point have been better than I could have ever expected. This afternoon as we were waiting for the boat to bring us to the cave 4 hornbills flew overhead, their strange calls answered by screaming monkeys and the rest of the jungle. Hornbills are endangered and to see them fly in nature was an amazing experience. I’ve seen them in captivity before but it’s a completely different experience seeing them fly over your head.
I’ve jumped ahead a bit here, let me back track and tell you where I am first. Nusa village is 3 hours by boat in Tamra Negara a jungle nature preserve in central Malaysia. The jetty is a 5 hour bus ride from KL in Kuala Tembeling. This place is in the middle of nowhere, electricity is provided by a generator that cuts out at least twice a day. My tiny little hut has no hot water or AC. It does have a mosquito net with a few holes in it though. The restaurant we all eat in is basically an open air tent where bats compete with geckos over who can eat the most mosquitoes and every night at exactly 8pm a porcupine shows up to eat a few table scraps and then happily heads off back to the jungle.

The jungle is alive in a way that I can’t really describe. When you walk through the woods in the US you feel safe, you know that even if you break a leg help is never far away and you are not in any danger from nature. Here I am afraid to cough because the ants look as if they are more than ready to help me join the great circle of life at the slightest suggestion of weakness. The ants are about 3x the size of ants back home, move 4 or 5 times faster and look like they are ready to kick ass in the streets of NYC. And that’s just the ants, let’s not get into the spiders and the rest of the insect world who thought I had dinner written all over me.

It’s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to its environment, my first night in Nusa there was no way I was going to take a cold shower, I gingerly washed myself and got out of there as quickly as I could, the mosquito bites were driving me insane and I could have killed for some AC. By my second night I couldn’t wait for the cold shower or my favorite chicken who I had named Duke (he would show up any time I would eat and then refuse to eat anything but pieces of fruit), I had even forgotten what AC was like and was glad for the mosquito net. That’s not to say I had completely adjusted to the life in the jungle. On my last night in the jungle I looked up to see a brown spider the size of my hand looking coolly at me from across the tiny bathroom. I slowly backed away and closed the door realizing for the first time that the “wall” was nothing more than a series of boards nailed together with cracks that could easily admit Mr. Spider. I spent a very worried night hoping I would not be visited by Mr. Spider of course a few days later I see Mr. Spider in the insect and butterfly park and it turns out that he’s a tarantula.

I actually have more to write but I have to run and catch my plane to the Philippines. I’ll see you guys over there.

You are walking by minding your own business and it grabs you, either by sight or by smell. Great glorious food, sustenance, that which we need at least thrice a day. I have not stopped eating ever since I left the US, I leave one food stall only to be drawn to the next one. Fresh coconut juice, watermelon sliced in a little plastic bag, flavored tea, carrots and apples crushed with ice and syrup. You drink it through a straw not with a spoon or a fork or chopsticks. Squid on a stick, meat on a stick, mushrooms on a stick, gizzard on a stick, a stick full of chicken hearts, duck on a stick, lamb on a stick, lemon on a stick, put anything on a stick spray it with some lemon juice or soy sauce put garlic and red chili peppers on it I don’t discriminate I’ll eat it all. Grind it, crush it, it’s a paste or a cream in a pastry on the bread, inside of the dough, fried, steamed, chopped, sliced, cold, hot, room temperature with whip cream and chocolate sprinkles on top. Red curry, green curry, pink curry, biryani, vinadloo, sushi, tom yum ped ped style. Sea food, ground food, air food it’s all here out of stalls, little holes in the walls or just people walking around with buckets. I want what’s inside the buckets, the stuff the locals are eatings, quail eggs, pig blood, cow blood, brain, liver, kidneys is that a sheep ball kabob ? Belgian food in Thailand, Pakistan food in Malaysia, Japanese food in china all twisted changed into different shapes. Can you tell I am hungry ?

Tonight I sat at a bar in a basement in Bangkok and wrote a short
story on the back of a business card because I had nothing else to
write on and I had to write. Why did I have to write you ask ? well
you don’t really ask do you ? this is literary device we use when we
want to move forward and it’s not really nice of me to put words in
the audiences mouth, maybe they have wandered off to get some gyros or
meat on a stick and here I am telling you they are asking questions.

So for the rest of this post I will leave the audience alone, this is
between me and the rat king. The rat king is an important person and
unimportant person at the same time. That might seem like a lie but

it’s not. You see the rat king is important to the rats but not so
important to us humans. So it’s all about perspective then, which
prism do you look through and can we ever take the prism off and just
look without judging without thinking simply seeing ? How can you see
without a frame of reference ? how will you know what you are seeing
when it’s just a jumble of color ?
You look across and see an 18 year old girl smile at you.
You look across and see an 18 year old hooker smile at you.
You look across and see an 18 year old mother of 2 smile at you.
You look across and see a hooker who wants your money smile at you.
You look across and see a boy dressed as a girl smile at you.
You look across
You look across
You look across….. she’s left with an old fat german tourist.
what did you see ? which one was real ? was it all real at the same time ?
Did you judge ? did you walk a mile in her pink high heel shoes ?
Did you donate some money to the red cross to sleep better at night or
did you turn off your eyes, make them dark windows that don’t see
don’t hear dont’ speak.

Do you want to read the short story ? I wrote on the flap of
cigarette carton so it’s not very long nor is it very good. But I
suspect that if you have read so far you will want to read the story
which is not really a story but then again that’s all perspective
right ?
—
All good stories start in a bar and this one is no exception, except I
don’t have enough paper to write it on. What do you do when you are
stuck in a bark in BKK without enough paper to write your short story
on ? you will just have to be creative with regards to how you use
your space you can not tell any good tales of bravery or heroics, but
you can tell one short tale, there was once a man and he died on his
grave they wrote “He died happy” the end.
—
Disappointing eh ? yeah I didn’t like it too much either but writing
it freaked out the japanese guy sitting next to me and if you don’t
freak out the japanese then you are just wasting time.

Hello my friends,

I write to you from Phuket in Thailand, I been away not so long but already my english change. But you not worry, me sure when I come back to US my english be ok. Yesterday I go on tour of Phuket on boat we go to many islands one called James Bond Island and another Monkey Island. Monkey Island very good, many monkeys who come to boat to eat bananas but when boat not there monkey hungry so what monkey eat? Monkey very smart so monkey put tail in water so clam bite monkey tail, when clam bite monkey tail monkey pull clam out of water and monkey eat clam.

Yesterday also my lucky day, first I forget eat breakfast then sky overcast, also I fall and scrape all skin on left side my right big toe, when we get to island and I jump in water I forget I have wallet in pocket so all money/credit card now wet also salt water hurt big toe. I hope it work ok. Next I swim and see many cool fish but not notice jelly fish, my back and face stung. Finally I snorkle so I face down and my back very burnt. You know why lucky day when many bad things happen ? cause I see octopus and he change color for me, then I see moray eel and tigerfish finally puffer fish come and say hi. For dinner I eat in Belgium restaurnt, strange no ? Belgium restaurnt in Phuket, but owner very nice man and drink beer with me, we talk for 2 1/2 hours. Me have good time talking with owner and Thai girls who work there.

I learn only little Thai, all I know is “Tom Yuen, pad pad” means a thai dish very spicy. Me like spicy food but my stomach not so happy every morning. Still me love Phuket and me really love diving, when dive it’s like in flying in giant aquarium so many colorful fish come say hi. Well not say hi, they come eat banana I hold, see not only monkey love banana but also fish. I talk with dive crew and they say easy to find job if you travel and dive a bit more so I will dive more and maybe I teach diving in Phuket ? If Phuket I move to you all come visit, we eat fresh sea food cooked right by us very very cheap and I take you see elephant show.

I go now, I have bus take to airport and fly to Bangkok. I miss you all blog friends, Sepi say good bye make me sad, now Whooman, Webgard and Sepi all say good bye I hope no more good bye.

I am not really as gone as I expected to be, the world is connected and in Phuket you can’t throw a banana for fear of hitting an internet cafe or a street hawker or a prostitue sometimes all 3 if you are really good. Which works out well cause the girl will be angry so you can buy her some food from the street merchant and then go over to the internet cafe and email her to see if she’s willing to marry you.

But this post is not about prostitues or bananas although the two mix more than they should here in Thailand but rather about selling out. This post on Nasys blog (yes I have been reading your blogs but not commenting since the keyboards are usually crappy and I get pissed off trying to type on them) had me thinking about selling out mainly because I am not sure what that means. Wikipedia does a good job of explaining the term, but that’s not what I am thinking about. Rather what would be the point of selling out ? I assume for most people it means more money or material things unless there are sellout budhist monks buying englightment that I dont’ know about. To me it seems like only half of a mathematical equation, where selling out should somehow get you to happiness yet happiness is always within our reach it’s simply a matter of defining what makes us happy.

I guess I am lucky in that I got a job at an early age that made enough money to see that money didn’t make me any happier. I bought a better car, rented a bigger apartment and bought more expensive salt and I can honestly say it didn’t make me any happier to have those things. But I can tell you this afternoon at 2:21:47pm on Sept 7th 2005 I was perfectly happy.

I was lying on my back on the top deck of a boat having finished my second open ocean dive, during which in addition to the usual array of fish and coral I saw a group of 3 cuttle fishes. I tried to think about what I would exchange this for, maybe to get that job at google I interviewed for in 99 or early stock options in Microsoft ?? nope sorry, it’s not that the moment on the boat is so perfect it’s that I don’t think any amount of money or selling out would actually get me on the boat which is why I don’t regret the fact that I didn’t get the job at google.

Sure money is important and it lets you achive your dreams but you have to first make sure that the dream becoming reality actually makes you happy because otherwise you are just throwing bananas at hookers for no reason and that’s not good for anybody.