Bat Shit, Breaking and Entering, and Alcohol with Semen? (Malaysia)

12:47 PM Thursday September 13th, 2012 Nyaungshwe, Myanmar
Before I had even arrived at Taman Negara National Park I had booked a 3 day/2 night trek in the jungle during a transfer in transportation from the Cameron Highlands to the national park.  Since I happened to be in Malaysia, an Islamic nation, during Ramadan most of the restaurants that were run by Muslim people were closed or extremely slow around sundown when they were able to eat and drink again after their day’s fasting.  So when a group of people from the hostel I was staying at that first night wanted to snag some food, the couple restaurants that were open were packed to the brim, and were moving painfully slowly such that prospects of food seemed at least a couple hours out.  When most of the group gave up on food to make it to their night safari on time, I snagged a seat by myself at the only open small table at one of the couple operations without closed doors that evening.  Random people ended up joining me as I neared the end of my meal just to find a place where they could get served within the next hour.  The next day my trekking began with a fun ride upstream in the long, skinny wooden speed boats, passing up the river through rapids to the start of my hike.  I quickly determined that while I was surrounded by people who could speak English none of them spoke it as their first language, and most spoke German, French, or Dutch.  As groups were shaped by language I quickly felt exiled, and also extremely pissed at the shitty language education we get in the U.S.  I will grant that English may be the world’s language so other nationalities sort of have to learn it to travel.  It’s nonetheless limiting being monolingual while most other people are bilingual and even trilingual in many cases.  What I mean to say though is that I felt lonely.  In all actuality I felt really lonely.  This seemed to be a continuation of the loneliness I’d felt throughout all of Malaysia up until that point.  The trekking itself was interesting and enjoyable with many tricky stream crossings to avoid slipping and getting wet.  When we finally arrived, after 8 km of hiking, at the cave we’d be spending the night in it was nearing dusk, and most people were ready to call it a day.  On top of this many people had gotten leeches, and I had gotten one as well.  They were surprisingly hard to avoid and impossible to feel as they sucked away.  Around dinner the other tour members, about 25 of them, continued to interact within their own groups leaving me isolated.  

Our setup in the cave in Taman Negara National Park.

Cave in Taman Negara National Park

That night we didn’t recognize what sleeping in a cave of this kind meant.  As I awoke the next morning around 8 I noticed a slightly audible pitter patter as something fell from the ceiling of the cave onto the tarp we were sleeping on, onto my sleeping bag, onto my face.  It wasn’t until it annoyed me enough to actually arise, earlier than most everyone, that I realized what was falling from the ceiling.  I had assumed it was water, but as I looked around I saw a LOT of bat shit.  Little pellets covered the tarp, our sleeping bags, and everything else.  I looked up to see the little bastards hanging right above us.  Their shit and piss had been landing on our heads and faces, and even onto our lips (mine included) as we’d tried to sleep in that morning.  I moved out of the area, clearing my things from the splash zone, letting all the other pour souls continue to sleep.  Although it wasn’t extremely noticeable, not enough to wake most people, I didn’t want to be shit on any more so I evacuated the area to take some pictures.  That day we trekked to the exit point, during which time I managed to get some time to swim/float in a stream as lunch was prepared and many of us got soaked shoes and clothing as the weather turned the rainforest into an actual ‘rain’ forest.  At the jetty I met up with some acquaintances I’d met earlier at the hostel and they had managed to get at least seven or eight leeches in their two day trek.  After most of the people were transported back to the hostels three Swiss guys and myself went to spend a night at a local village.  Our guide sped along in the river speed boat without a light, a thrilling and exciting prospect for me, though a slightly sketchy experience.  That next morning was spent trying to get a feel for the local, tribal people.  Our guide fetched us some sugar cane to chew on, and we got to try our hand with a blow gun, and trying to make fire without a lighter or match.  They used an interesting method with a vine that was surprisingly easy, and I was very close to getting it after about five minutes of trying.  

Blow gun from the tribal village.

Fresh sugar cane

That afternoon after I had checked back into my hostel I decided to go to the rainforest canopy walkway, suspended about 100 feet or more over the jungle floor.  I crossed the river to get to the national park, and was told that the canopy walkway was closed at 3:30.  It was already 4, but I figured I’d give it a try anyway.  Thoughts started to creep into my mind, mischievous, clandestine, sneaky thoughts.  As I approached the start of the walkway I noticed some other people at the entranceway complaining about it being closed.  I searched around the platform; there had to be a way to climb up the 15 feet to the beginning.  Indeed someone had done this before, that or they were covering their bases, because the tree nearby the platform had barbed wire wrapped around it.  I managed to snake my way up a sign and the tree getting myself onto the platform.  Applause from the on-looking people only served to fan the raging flames of vanity inside me and reassure my foolishness.  Once up there on my own I got an intense burst of that forbidden sensation, that feeling that pulses strongly as you go somewhere you’re not supposed to.  It always makes me feel extremely alive, and this breaking and entering was special compared to other times I’d entered forbidden areas.  I had the whole lengths of the creaking walkways, rope bridges, all to myself.  I was at first very tense, and I worried about the sounds of the walkway under my feet alerting someone to my presence though I quickly became comfortable and trudged along without a care in the world.  The rainforest canopy was breathtaking in the late afternoon sunlight, and I had all the time I wanted to linger on the bridges and meander as I pleased.  I got to explore a roped off section of walkways.  No one there to tell me NO was to me an open invitation to explore.  I jumped over the red, plastic tape and continued on my way.  Although the bridges were littered with leaves and small branches, indicating how long it had been since they’d been last used, they seemed structurally sound.  I went along to the end of the walkways, then instead of exiting out the door at the end of the last platform I decided to go back and climb back down the way I’d come.  After spending some beautiful moments on one of the last bridges at the beginning of the walkways I sidled my way down the wavering sign and tree, extremely content with myself and my forbidden act.  After a quick trip up the slope I determined that the reason for the sectioned off bridges was a pathway to the final platform that was under renovation.  

The sign post and tree I used to climb up.

Canopy walkway in Taman Negara park

Blocked off walkway

Unused walkway

The next day was spent getting from the national park to Jerantut and riding the ‘Jungle Train’ to Kota Bahru.  This happened to be my first train trip on this journey, getting me to ponder all the modes of transport I’d utilized already on my trip: planes, cars, tuk tuks, boats, buses, and motorbikes.  Kota Bahru turned out to be nothing special, except a taste of true Malay culture.  Almost all of the people were Muslim, making the Ramadan market a must see.  Ramadan markets are food markets that provide food for Islamic people to eat when the call to evening prayer rings out and they can finally eat and drink.  The cheap, delicious dishes were a treat, though the two girls, who I went with, and I were too hungry to wait until dusk like the rest of the people.  One lady very kindly explained the reasons for fasting every day for a month, and was very open with her religion.  As the call to evening prayer rang out all of the people around us began sipping their drinks seemingly in a perfectly synchronized act.

Market in Kota Bahru

The kind lady that persuaded me to buy a sarong.

Ramadan market selection.

The next destination on my journey came from a spontaneous decision to head off to the Perhentian Islands.  Once I had made up my mind and booked my ticket I realized that alcohol would likely be expensive on the islands as it tends to be on most islands, plus the conservative nature of the Malaysian people could only drive up the cost, or so I thought.  In an attempt to alleviate some of the financial strain I expected from alcohol purchases I began a quick search around Kota Bahru for alcohol.  Finding alcohol in an Islamic community I quickly realized is a tricky and almost impossible task.  I couldn’t find it in any large grocery shops or 7 Eleven’s, which highly surprised me.  I asked around, but to no avail, everyone seemed to say there was no alcohol in town, but that just couldn’t be true.  I was on a mission, and I wouldn’t stop until I had found what I was looking for.  Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw Chinese characters on the front of a building.  I knew the Chinese had to have alcohol of some sort.  They may not drink much, but surely they’d have something for me.  As it turned out I found some in a Chinese trading post.  The whiskey they had earlier was gone, but they did still have some Chinese alcohol.  This was some Chinese ‘medicine.’  The shop owner said it was sweet, but couldn’t compare it to anything, so I did what any man with a need and very little discerning tastes would do and bought some Chinese medicinal alcohol.  I had stooped to the lowest of lows.  Chinese alcohol, especially used for medicine would without a doubt be terrible.  As I would find out later on the Perhentian Islands it was extremely sweet with a flavor all its own and contained 35 different ingredients including of all things ANIMAL PARTS.  My mind couldn’t wrap around it, but it had listed in the ingredients gecko, ginseng, semen (still not certain about this one, but it was on there), etc.  Even this revelation couldn’t stop me from wasting this bottle.  I shared it with other brave souls willing to try it and finished most of it myself.  I made possibly the worst mixed drink ever apart from the tequila and grenadine I had a couple years ago, a Chinese medicinal alcohol and coke drink.  Sadly I probably stuck close to the recommended dosage of about 6 drinks a day.

The box that contained the terrible, terrible alcohol.

Awkward Bed Experience, A Slight Robbery, Some Cool Malaysian Places, and The Beginning of Solo Travel (Malaysia)

7:47 PM Monday September 10th, 2012 Monywa, Myanmar
I began what would turn in to almost a month's worth of time in Malaysia with the plan to stay only 5 days.  For now I'll just discuss the first few destinations.  My trip in Malaysia started with a couple thoughts.  I guess I felt the need to be contemplative since it was my first day, July 13th, of traveling completely on my own. There were other backpackers around, but it was just me and the road, or so I thought.  I wrote down two things in my journal.  One: Traveling is a pretty selfish endeavor (looking at this now I'm not sure this is completely true as long as no one depends on you).  Two: I must spend a longer time in a country to get a feel for the true culture.  I guess starting my time in Malaysia with this on my mind led me to stay so much longer than I had first planned, but with nothing set in stone this is the joy of traveling solo.  Regardless of this I arrived in Penang on a stop on my way to Kuala Lumpur and tried to withdraw money, but found out my debit card had been blocked by my bank, so I was forced to change some of my Thai Baht to Malaysian Ringgit even though I knew I was heading back to Thailand.  When I finally arrived in Kuala Lumpur around 10 PM I had been traveling for 25 hours, starting all the way back at the night ferry leaving Koh Tao.  My taxi to my hostel dropped me off on a bustling street filled with upper class bars.  Serenity Hostel would turn out to be a poor choice for me, but I didn't know that yet.  After staying out at an Indian buffet until 3 playing cards with some Westerners who were students in KL I retired for the night determined to get a good day of sightseeing in the next day.  I managed to walk around much of central KL in one day, taking in many sights.  

Petronas Towers

Batu Caves, touristic and dirty, but still cool.

Masjid Jamek (Jamek Mosque)

Sultan Abdul Samad Building

That night I met some other students in KL and after a couple drinks they were invited to get into a club for free.  I jumped at their offer to join, and managed to get myself into one of the top clubs in KL wearing flip flops, shorts, and a t-shirt and with no accompanying girls for free.  Luckily for me it was a beach themed night, so my attire worked.  The next morning I had to switch hostels because Serenity Hostel was fully booked for that night, and it wasn't until I checked my bag at the guest house next door for my passport photos that I found out I had been robbed.  My bag had been locked up, though it was easily broken into.  Missing was $340, though seeing it the way I did they didn't take my passport, iPod, or camera so I was pretty happy.  It could have been so much worse.  The next day I explored more of KL, going to the top of the KL Tower.  In my new guest house I met a cool Czech girl and a kind, effeminate Philippino guy.  I attempted to get a Thai visa the next day, but the embassy didn't accept visa applications in the afternoon so I ended up running through the rain, without my umbrella, for a mile or so having been completely unsuccessful in applying for my visa.  So it was determined that I needed to get up relatively early the following day to go apply.  My new Philippino friend woke me at 6:30 or so to help me get to the embassy on time.  I told him I wanted to sleep some more, but that I was cold because the air con was really strong.  He asked to lie down, which I figured was harmless, albeit abnormal.  So I scooted over really far and let him have his space.  Before I could say anything he had lifted up the sheet, gotten under, and wrapped an arm around me.  I could tell he was simply trying to warm me up, but it was affection that I didn't want.  Caught in a position that left me very uncomfortable, but not wanting to upset him in case this was just a form of Philippino kindness, I laid on my stomach, pulled my arms completely in under myself, and faced away from him hoping that this was just some kind of shitty dream.  Eventually he pulled his arm back away from my shoulder, and I drifted off to sleep confining myself to the far side of the bed, unmoving and cloistered from my bed companion.  While my Thai visa got processed I headed down to Melaka to see an antiquated marine trading town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  Two nights there was more than enough, and I started to realize how lonely traveling solo can be.  I found myself fairly upset that I had no friends to talk to, no shooting the shit, no joking, no physical contact, except the unwanted kind.  I was missing something.  Despite getting to talk about indoor skydiving with a Dutch marketer for the only indoor skydiving facility in the Netherlands I was without conversation in Melaka.  

Rickshaws vibrantly decorated in Melaka

The canal at night

I left early the next day to get back to KL and pick up my visa before heading to the Cameron Highlands.  This is where my 5 day plan for Malaysia failed.  The Cameron Highlands allowed me a much needed respite from the heat of the lowlands.  Finally I had a use for my fleece jacket.  I left KL at 5:40 and got in to the Cameron Highlands at 10:30 at night.  I went around searching for hostels, and got turned away from at least three because they were full until I found the only hostel with availability in town around 11 PM.  That next day, July 20th, I took an extremely scenic hike through the jungle and mud to the top of the highest mountain around.  The top of the mountain was host to the most perfect weather ever.  A slightly chilled mountain breeze and the heat of the tropical sun made for the most ideal temperature ever, and the scenery from a viewing tower made it all the better.  I was very comfortable as I walked down a steep and winding road from the top towards a large tea plantation.  Once I finally made it down to the plantation I was a fiend for pictures.  I was amazed, and my finger carelessly pressed the shutter button.  After exploring for awhile, and snagging a cup of tea at the tea processing facility my camera decided to corrupt my memory card, deleting my photos (I was able to recover them later).  

Boh Tea Plantation

It was getting on toward 3 in the afternoon and rain clouds were menacing in the distance.  I decided to hitch my way back to town, and before I'd even left the tea plantation, having walked no more than 100 meters, a pickup truck stopped to take me in to town.  I hopped off halfway back to the hostel to see a butterfly garden and strawberry farm, and then after snagging some dried fruit and passion fruit juice concentrate I again stuck out my thumb and was very quickly picked up by a Chinese-Malaysian couple.  They were extremely kind, and shared information with me about Malaysian people as they transported me to my hostel.  This was just part of the welcoming nature of Malaysia; people would ride by on motorbikes and offer a warm 'hello' as they passed.  I went out to eat with some people at my new hostel, trying a Cameron apple which is a small, soft fruit resembling and tasting like a small melon of sorts.  Supposedly they're only grown in that region of the world.  That night I booked a ticket to Taman Negara National Park instead of heading back to Thailand thus continuing my travels in Malaysia.

The Best Dorm Ever, Scuba Diving, and More Accidents (Koh Tao, Thailand)

10:37 AM Monday, August 27th, 2012 Chiang Mai, Thailand
After waking up early, realizing I didn't have my ticket and frantically waking the bungalow owner to grab it before our taxi departed, we (Marius, Mads, Andreas, Rich, Ola, Daniela, Mikaela, and I) caught the ferry from Koh Phangan to Koh Tao.  

Marius, Andreas, and Mads (Left to Right)

Mikaela (Left) and Daniela (Right)

We set up shop at Ban's Diving Resort in a dorm all to ourselves.  This would turn out to be an absolutely amazing place to stay, but it wasn't because Ban's was so great but because the people I was with made my stay amazing.  It truly is the people that matter, not where I am or what I'm doing, but the people I share my time with that make an experience shine so brilliantly and vividly in my memory.  The week we spent on Koh Tao together was filled with so much laughter, joking, and excitement, and I could've spent my whole time on Koh Tao with these seven people just sitting around the dorm and having the time of my life.  My memories of our time in that dorm room, just the eight of us are extremely poignant and happy ones.  Most of our nights were spent out dancing until three or four in the morning.  One day Ola convinced me to rent a motorcycle to better explore the island.  I ended up getting a 125 cc Kawasaki dirt bike.  Having had no experience riding a manual motorcycle I was slightly concerned about riding off and making an ass of myself.  In retrospect I had every reason to be concerned about embarrassing myself as I hopped on the bike and immediately stalled the bike four times in front of the Englishman I'd just rented the bike from.  He definitely saw through my lie about having ridden a manual bike before.  All concerns aside I finally managed to pull away from the rental place and pull up at a gas station.  I again stalled the bike five times trying to get going as locals chuckled at my extremely poor clutch skills.  Eventually I got it all figured out, and I fell in love with the manual.  While Rich played sick with some bug that was making him feel incapable of leaving his bed Ola and I explored the Southern part of the island with our bikes.  We failed to find the steps to a restaurant and climbed a ladder up into the staff area instead, saw some breath-taking bay, and searched for Ola's friend and island resident, Jahawi.  That night one of the Norwegians offered me a snus, which I gave a try.  Later that night Ola and I were the only two who wanted to head out.  I guess everyone else in the group couldn't go as hard as us.  I mean learning to scuba dive extremely hung over sounds like a good idea to me, but I guess the rest of the group minus Rich who were getting trained the next day didn't see it that way.  Anyway that night Ola and I went out resulting in him hooking up with a Dutch girl on the beach while people walked by.  He was frantic the next morning as he couldn't remember what she looked like or her name though I assured him she was definitely good looking.  She would always be the, "Dutch girl on Koh Tao."   One day while it was lightly raining the four Norwegians and I went up to High Bar on top of a mountain.  On our way there as I trailed Mads by about 40 feet, thinking to myself that it was stupid that we were out riding in the rain, I suddenly realized that Mads, who had no brake lights on his bike, had come to a stop up ahead of me.  I quickly slammed on my brakes not wanting to hit him, the ladies next to him on the left, or the oncoming truck to his right that had made him come to a halt.  As I pulled hard on the lever and pushed hard on the foot brake I felt the bike slip out from under me.  The bike and I had been slowed down from 30 mph to 10 mph or so, just enough for me to get over the handlebars somewhat gracefully and have the bike crash to the right, where it had already been crashed previously.  I slightly slid on my butt and got minor scratches on my left arm, leaving me pretty much unscathed.  The kind ladies rushed over to check up on me, and apart from the unseen damage to the bike, which would later cost me $110, everything was ok.  Getting up to High Bar on the steep, winding, and wet road was fine, but my shaken confidence made getting down a tricky and scary prospect, but I made it down safely.

Hanging out at High Bar

While we were on the island Marius, Mads, Andreas, Daniela, and Mikaela all went through their basic Open Water and Advanced PADI certification courses.  Rich, Ola, and I managed to get some diving in as well, with Rich and I both getting our deep diving certifications.  On our first dive we got a glimpse of a 14 foot whale shark swimming off the bow of the boat, but it quickly swam away to our disappointment before we could get a fin in the water.  A couple days of scuba diving, four dives (two on July 8th and two on July 9th) allowed Rich, Ola, and I to see some beautiful marine life including the whale shark, schools of barracuda, and curious Nemo’s (clownfish) swimming in and out of their anemones all the while staring right back at me.  The second day of diving, July 9th, Rich and I did a deep adventure dive and got certified for diving down to 30 meters, but on this dive we only went down to 26 meters.  

Rich and I diving.

The Scandinavians training in the pool.

The night of July 9th Marius, Andreas, Mads, Daniela, and Mikaela all finished their PADI Open Water so we decided to celebrate.  This led to some pretty crazy partying on everyone's part.  I did my first fire jump rope ever, and the crowd at the bar cheered as they spun it faster and faster in an attempt to spin it so fast that it was extinguished, but ultimately the burning rope hit me and I jumped away quickly.  Later on Ola ran into friends from our Ha Long Bay tour (Sophie, Becky, Liv, and Lucy) eliciting massive hugs for Ola and me.  That night proceeded with Andreas and me bringing back 8 or so random people to our dorm to keep partying around 4 in the morning.  Luckily Rich, Daniela, and Mikaela didn't mind Andreas and me bringing back so many people as they were still awake back at the dorm.  Our group had become rowdy, and by 5:30 I convinced the guests to go swimming in the resort's pool, leaving Andreas and his older Thai woman to their vices while the rest of the dorm residents stayed home.  The Dutch guys yelled in the middle of the resort at 6 in the morning as they swam.  They yelled at people in the fan rooms for not paying more for an air conditioned room where they could close their windows and avoid hearing the racket they were creating.  They threw the scuba weights and signs into the pool whilst drunkenly laughing, and me not wanting to get caught as I was the only one staying in the resort retired around 6:15.  I laughed at the absurdity of the Dutch guys yelling at the top of their lungs in the middle of the resort.  At least they were having a great time.  Who am I to judge?  

Daniela and I in front of the fire jump rope.

Me doing the fire jump rope.

One of the crazy Dutch guys who stole a bra and was wearing it on his head.

Ola returned later having gone off with the resort owner's niece.  From there on out the picture that Daniela and Mikaela had with the niece became Rich's desktop so that we were reminded of the "man" that Ola had hooked up with at the resort restaurant.  Another afternoon the four Norwegians and I went up to a view point for the sunset.  

The four Norwegians

I'd already returned my bike so I rode on the back of Ola's.  After an amazing view turned closer toward darkness and we'd taken an appropriate amount of photos we decided to get down the rutted, dirt road to the dorm.  I told Ola all I wanted was to get down safely.  I figured having just spilled my bike a few days prior this would have been his top priority, but confidence has a way of blurring the lines of safety and luring you to risky behavior.  I know this far too well.  One turn into a steep, dirt section seemed too quick to me, and as Ola almost avoided the massive rut in the road I knew how it was going to end.  We were going to crash.  So it was that Ola escaped unscathed while my left foot got caught between the bike and the side of the rut in the road leaving me with a few rough abrasions.  This is where I learned to wear shoes instead of sandals when on motorbikes.  

A quick visit to the clinic and I was patched up and wrapped, joining every other poor zombified person from the Full Moon Party.  Alas all good things have to come to an end, and so did our time on Koh Tao.  After one of the most fulfilling and fun weeks together we split off, headed in different directions.  

Sairee Beach our home for the week.

The Norwegians (Marius, Mads, and Andreas) headed to Koh Samui, Rich and Ola headed to Koh Phi Phi, the Swedish girls (Daniela and Mikaela) headed to the Philippines, and I headed down to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to avoid overstaying my 15 day allowance I'd gotten for Thailand.  A trip to Malaysia to renew my visa for Thailand was what I had now planned, though it was never part of my initial route.  I would just jump in to Malaysia and jump back to get more time in Thailand.  Five days max I gave myself in Malaysia.  So I headed off on the night ferry bound for Suratthani, ending up right across from Rich and Ola who I'd already said goodbye to earlier in the night.  We (all of us backpackers) were packed in to the ferry on a long line of thin mattress with no dividers to tell exactly where one person's space ended and another's began.  

After we woke up the next morning at 5 in Suratthani the final goodbyes meant I was officially traveling alone.  I was off to Malaysia, so I paid $15 at the border for overstaying my visa by a day, and got across and into a new country.