BIG POST!

September 13, 2012




Frankfurt airport. The gods of the airlines decided to send me a blessing after having harassed me all morning long – I had the whole row, the whole middle row, all to myself from JFK to Frankfurt! We’re talking 4 entire seats for my little self to enjoy. So while I’m still sleep-deprived and covered in airplane crud, at least I’m not too cramped and knotted up. Oh heavens being able to stretch out and lie down was so nice, especially after a day spent toting around a heavy backpack and a guitar.



So now I spend one hour of September 13th sitting in Frankfurt, and that’s all of September 13th that really exists for me this year. A major life event happened on September 13th several years back, but only one person reading this knows what it was, and I’m not even sure that the person remembers. I’m a little surprised I remember. It was a Friday the 13th, maybe that’s why I remember it. And who knew, many years later all I have of September 13th is one hour in the Frankfurt Airport.



I watched Dark Shadows on the way over. I wished I hadn’t. Who green-lighted that script? It was dreadful.



Here’s hoping the flight to Singapore is equally kind to me in the stretching out department!







September 14th, 2012



I’m here. I made it. My luggage did not.







September 15th, 2012



Oh friends, there is so much to write! I barely know where to begin.



I got back on the plane in Frankfurt, and was overwhelmed with joy when they announced that they were closing the cabin doors and all three seats next to me were once again empty! But the total elation was short-lived, as a woman from somewhere further up front had apparently asked if she could move to an empty seat somewhere else, and that empty seat she chose was the one at the end of my perfect row. I cursed her profusely (and profanely) in my head before reminding myself that I still had two entirely empty seats next to me and I really had absolutely nothing to complain about.



On that leg of the flight I watched Men In Black 3, which, much to my surprise, I highly enjoyed. Then I watched The Artist which, to my surprise, I didn’t much like. Finally I watched The Avengers, which, just as I expected, was well done and fun to watch. The food was too salty, but the booze was free, and I nursed quite a generous pour of whiskey through MIB 3. That certainly could have contributed to why I liked it so much…



So, yeah, the connection in Singapore. Remember how I had “just enough” time (according to the nice lady from Singapore Air) to collect my baggage, recheck it, and make it to my next flight? Let me tell you how that played out (cue mocking laughter). The flight into Singapore was 10 minutes late. Luckily, as I was going through the line for immigration in Singapore (you have to go through it to get to baggage claim) the officer realized my situation and advised me to go to the “transfer” desk back where I had come from. I found it and was able to get them to find and retag my bags. Good! I was then informed that my next flight was in a different terminal and I had about 10 minutes before they closed the flight. Not good. On top of that, the nice lady promised to put a rush on the bags, but realistically the chances were slim that the bags would make it. So not good. We know how that last part played out!



In the past few months I’ve taken up jogging. Sometimes I say “running,” but that’s just to make myself feel cool. But, to be honest, I can now “run” much better than I ever could before. This ability came in so handy right there in Changi Airport, when the tram to Terminal 2 opened up and I realized that my gate was at the very tail end of the terminal. I took a look at the departure screen, noted my gate, also noted the “gate closing” status, and took off running (actually running). The good news is that I made it, AND after 34 hours of sitting got a much needed workout. I arrived at the gate, covered in sweat, and just in time to make the flight.



I arrived in Surabaya, de-planed, headed through immigration (feeling fairly smug that I didn’t have to wait in the long “visa on arrival” line (I had to get a special long-term stay visa prior to arriving). I approached the baggage claim with a small glimmer of hope in my heart that was quickly dashed. No dice. And by no dice I mean no bags.



Fortunately the ladies at Surabaya baggage help were MUCH more awesome than the mentally challenged ones at JFK, and we’re extremely helpful. One woman even escorted me through customs and to the general receiving area where my ride was supposed to be waiting to take me to Malang. Guess who’s ride wasn’t there? Yep. So the awesome baggage lady too me BACK to her office and let me chill out while she called my contact numbers to find out where my ride was. How awesome is that!? Turns out my ride had gotten stuck in traffic and would be there momentarily. My bags, however, wouldn’t get there until 6pm that evening. But to add another awesome point to the good folk in the luggage department at the Surabaya airport, they promised to deliver it to me in Malang the next day. Super awesome, but it still didn’t change the fact that I had no luggage. And to top it all off, I thought I was being savvy by packing a change of clothes in with my guitar. I figured that the clothes would help give the guitar extra cushioning and it would give me a change of attire, just in case something crazy happened – you know, like my bags getting lost or something. Well, great idea – except that they made me gate check my guitar on the flight to Frankfurt. So I literally had no clothes but what I was wearing. But fortunately I actually felt pretty good. I’d been able to stretch out (somewhat) and sleep on the flight over, and I had enough foresight to pack a razor in my carry-on luggage, so I was able to have myself a nice shave in the airplane bathroom on route to Singapore (those of you who know me well know my obsession with shaving!). So I may have been dirty, but I was clean-shaven, and sometimes that’s all that matters…. When you’re Al Pal.



So we packed up my meager belongings and headed South, to Malang.



TO BE CONTINUED…





September 16th, 2012



Hello jet lag. I was exhausted and falling asleep at the bar tonight. Then I got home ready to pass out and I’ve been wide away ever since. Now it’s 3am and I’ve finally given up the quest for sleep.



Malang. To say “it’s going to be an adjustment” is a bit of an understatement. Ok, a whopping understatement. It’s not like I was picturing lavish accommodations and nectar flowing from springs in the ground and brightly colored birdr landing on my windowsill every morning to bring me fruit and sing me awake, but, to be perfectly honest, I find myself less than enthusiastic to be here. I keep telling myself that I just need to make the adjustment and adapt, and I know that has a huge dose of truth to it. There are a lot of teachers at the school who have been here for years – they love it, and I like to think that I will too, it’s just a little hard to imagine at this point. It’s a natural stage in adapting to such a new lifestyle, but usually there is a period of elation that is supposed to last from a week to two months before it dissolves into depression. And it’s not like I’m depressed, I’m just… numb I guess, and I feel a little slighted that I didn’t get my period of elation. Well, I never tend to do things the traditional way – maybe I get a month of depression, and THEN I get the elation and absolutely love it for the rest of my time here. I like to think so. I guess only time will tell.



Sorry to be a bit of a downer; there are some good things, too. I do like the house I’m in, there are four bedrooms, a common area and kitchen that are fully enclosed in a roughly square shape, but in the middle is an open air courtyard with a mango tree. It’s nice to step outside in the morning and be outside but still in my own house. One of the things I like that REALLY surprised me is their showing system. Some of you may recall my hesitation when I first heard about it – basically the bathroom is rectangle-shaped with the toilet at one end and a small waist-high basin at the other end. You fill up the basin with water and then use a scoop to wet yourself, then soap up and shave, and scoop-rinse yourself off. There is a hole in the floor for the water to drain off. I actually love bathing this way. Who knew? The weather is really nice too. I hear tell that it’s been a little hotter than usual the two days I’ve been here, but the nights are pleasantly cool and the mornings are just perfect. Today I ate my cereal in my little courtyard under the mango tree. There is a soccer field directly across the street from the house, and kids were playing a game. It was nice to hear their elated voices spilling over the walls of the house.



As for the not so good stuff, there are about a million ants. They are everywhere. I can’t say I mind all that much, I actually think it adds a certain rustic charm to the place, and hey – they ain’t spiders. But still they can be a little annoying. All the food has to wrapped up tightly, and I usually have to flick one or two off the toilet before sitting down. But the ants are saints compared to the mosquitos. There aren’t actually all that many mosquitoes, but it seems like every single damn one of them is on a personal quest to seek me out and drain me of every last drop of blood I have. There are no mosquito nets in the bedrooms. I asked why not. They said I wouldn’t need one as the mozzies aren’t that bad. The next day I woke up covered in bites. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m having a hard time sleeping tonight – every time I start to doze off, I hear one buzzing around my ear. I covered myself in bug spray, wrapped myself up in my thin sheet and dozed off for a few minutes, only to awake and find two bites on my face! Ugh – you fuckers! Hopefully they will eventually tire of my honeysuckle blood.


Hey, thrill of the day – I got to drink coffee that had been pooped out of civet’s butt. It was actually quite good.