TravelStream™ news feed for member ifanabroad on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/ifanabroad en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sat, 21 Feb 2009 22:56:14 -0500 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1234324500/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1234324500/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1234324500/tpod.html Sat, 21 Feb 2009 22:56:14 -0500 Ifan, abroad again!

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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Selamat pagi,
Well I am currently sitting in a small part of Bali called Sidemen... nope not 'sidemen' heathens... it is pronounced 'Cedarmun' honestly buleh! It is quite far up in the mountains of East Bali and I am in a relatively remote house just outside the village, with a backdrop of the monstrously, looming, volcano 'Agung' in centre stage. Spreading out below this domineering spectacle is a rich blanket of tropical forest and rice paddy terraces. They run right up to within a foot of the terrace I am on, gazing out. The landscape is dotted with small, natively thatched structures, ranging from little balay's for the rest and convenience of the paddy workers to full size homes, (although red tile roof's do start to creep in at this point of population 'density').

Despite being able to see all around me for a good 50 - 100 meters and in some directions what must be 5 miles or so as the crow flies... it's across a valley so God alone knows how far on foot! Despite these uninterrupted vistas I can see but two or three people, labouring in the paddies or on the edge of the forest. They have started work only in the last few minutes disrupting, (if such gentle and methodical work can be called 'disrupting') the natural theatre that was taking place before me. It is 7.00am. The stately and over proud Ibis stalking their way through the terraces looking for all the world as if they simply fancied a morning stroll before tiffin. Elongated, white bodies are toped with an orange / brown crest that caps their heads and makes them visually unmistakable.

They were not the first to beat their retreat however. One of the main stars, a bright, irridescent blue, Kingfisher, the size of a rook or crow, had been darting through the morning breeze to clip a morsel from flooded fields. Stealing the show for just a moment before retreating to his tower. He took flight a long time past, hiding from the awakening of man or the strengthening sunlight, I will never know which, but though he is overpowered for now, I sense his secret victory, his survival despite the forces arrayed against him. There is wisdom in retreat, when the power against you is the power you must also depend on.

Close behind were the Giant Land Snails. Resolute marchers, climbing the trunks all around, pushing forward, inching forward, creeping forward, so slow and yet so definite. Beautiful shells, thrown like new age pots, slightly skewed but with a perfection you know had little to do with chance. I love their pace of life, they'll get there, might not be fast and it might not be fancy, but along the way the view, well the view can only get better. Who knows how they get down each night? I picture an intricately folded and fragile parachute, a membrane of such colour and vibrance that they dare not show it during the day. Down they drift in extasy the days of hoisting and climbing worthwhile for those few seconds of guilty pleasure. Careful refolding and packing away ready to toil again. They know what's coming and they fortify themselves now in readiness. Hunker down, battern hatches, close off all gaps and spaces and prepare to weather the full day. Not all will survive the challenge but without the toil, without the fight, why would they want to?

A band of sparrows has come and gone. As they approached, noisily and indelicately, a tension crept in to the scene before me. Other birds hasten away from where they are but sedately almost as if from distaste rather than fear. The potential marshals and generals of dance, engage in squabbling and infights instead. Looming across the paddies like hooligan children from around the corner or down the shops, they almost seem to taunt and laugh, but with hollowness. They are without fixed position or purpose in this place, at this time. It is unsettling, jarring to the other members of Sideman society. You can almost see the members thinking, rauctious and troublesome fools, but not dangerous, not really, not to us, not... They leave once they see that there is no feeding to be had, no courting to be had, no minor members to be bullied out of home or property. I feel relief when they leave, relief that the dance could begin again, that life could begin again, safe again now.

Swifts and Swallows will be last to leave, bravely chasing down the last few fire-breathing flies that are too lacking in caution or speed, as they scoop up the flotsam and jetsam of the aerial world. Now, as the sun rises and beats upon the Earth to show it's strength, like the modern playground bullies or heathen warlords of old, a new set of players take the stage. Beasts of burden and their men arrive and begin their dance. Up and back, Up and back. Up and back. Up and back. The rhythm is hypnotic and strangely seductive. So much power being applied with so much precision. Around the edges of the stage are the strollers, minor players who tread their tightropes of earth so adeptly. They seem to need to stop and examine below their feet at random moments. What do they find that fascinates so? Perhaps there is gold hidden in the waters that they take so much care, that makes them study so intently, a swiftly bended knee, a sift through the firmament, and just as swiftly it's over, displays of circus skills continue. A ceaseless search for???

On the edges is also where to look for the plant tamers, a strange act, patiently training the trees and creepers where they may grow and where they may not. The forest, alas, is too like a naughty puppy, repentant under duress, yielding to admonishment and pissing all over the settee as soon as man has gone.

The sun steps up it's war-chant and the very elements obey, clouds begin to form obscuring the heights and mighty Agung is bested, pushed aside. Visibility reduces and there is a sense, from all around, as if from the trees and grasses themselves, of hunkering down, taking that deep breath, beginning the big push toward Malam, towards the safety that comes when even a Warlord must rest and let the natives dance their dance.

Only the fire-breathers continue unabated, freed now from restraint as predation has vanished. Like their brethren in mythology seemingly unaffected by the unrelenting heat, performing aerial acrobatics, they dance. Now as singlets, now together, in a frenzy of wings and irridesance, now singlets again, the gaudiest ballet visible under the sun.

Weird one this week I know, but a passing muse fell asleep in mind flight and crash landed on me, this passage is quite possibly missing from some reputable authors work and could, I suppose, be viewed as a kind of intellectual theft... but as I don't know them and can't return it, I figured I'd just keep it. You know like when you find a tenner on the floor and there's no-one around. Apologies to said rightful owner of this text, it's probably not as good or as honed as you could have made it but it's the best I could do... God it's not like it's actually in your book and I've messed it up. Anyway I'm not getting into it now, I'm in the middle of a conversation with some friends actually.

Inabit like,
Ixxx
P.S. All writings here are entirely my own work and any issues, inaccuracies, crapiness or problems are my own and in no way pass-onable to any deity or messenger thereof. Although any successes are of course down to said deity or messenger almost entirely and for their patronage I am most grateful.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1232509920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1232509920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1232509920/tpod.html Sat, 21 Feb 2009 22:54:30 -0500 Ifan, abroad again!

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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Selamat pagi lagi,
How are all of you?? Have to say my trip home was just amazing thanks to most of you lot and the lazy buggers who can't be bothered to log in to read this gibberish! Figured it was probably time to update you all on how the bits of the trip 'not UK based' went... Can not be bothered to drivel on about 'UK based' activities, (especially since if I complained as much about what went on at home as I did away some of you would probably deck me) sorry.

The flight home was a nightmare as was to be expected when shoving a not so small Welshman into a miniscule cubic space, tantalisingly close to the right size and dimensions for his body, but in fact meeting neither the correct length, breadth, depth or height required. A sort of a battle ensued to fit my corpse like form into the zed-like, foetal resembling, shape needed to pass the brief twenty four period of my life.

However one shouldn't grumble especially when they provide such amazing inflight entertainment... Options such as 'local TV' and 'Hits from the 40s' were swiftly bypassed and a soothing lyllaby of modern digital drama/comedy/romance wafted me into that zen like state experienced so often by people around the world... A bit like being unconscious only your conscious to enjoy the numbing of your mind. As I drifted into and out of this semi-conscious, screen-absorbed, state, I occasionally noticed things around me, (though the mind numbing technique had dampened curiosity to critically low levels, along with creative thought and inspiration levels that were flat-lining) such as the Balinese guy sitting next to me. I first met Made, (pronounced Mad-eh) at the fiscal counter, where he was very confused and confided in me that he had never left Bali before... too which I added to confusion by confiding that neither had I... I helped him to work out the forms at the fiscal desk and confirmed the staggering amount he was required to pay in order to leave Indonesia, (IRP 1'000'000! Think that's bad? It went up this year to IRP 2'500'000!! Do not worry, my many impending visitors, that is only for people who are resident in the country... without it they don't let you back in!!). You can imagine, dear friend, how delighted I was to discover that Made was sitting next to me on my flight. Wide eyed and 'Beanesque' in his exploration of his zed-like area. He appeared to understand nothing, ranging from the chair controls and a/c options right through to the inflight entertainment and headphones. During one of the moments I managed to struggle free of the digital void and surface caught him punching various buttons and pausing to watch the results in a very methodical, scientific way. He eventually abandoned these bizarre experiments, having failed to even switch on his monitor and surreptitiously watched my screen with all the tact and discretion you would expect from my descriptions thus far. I did not know how to tell him that he had been hitting the light and a/c options and the entertainment was controlled by the remote control box wired into his arm rest... Repeated insertion and removal eventual gave him the message but a second round of experiments failed to get him further than the intro screen and so I spent the rest of the flight trying to make entertainment choices I felt would travel well when viewed sideways and without sound.

Meals were also an impressive array of, well, nutrients is the closest word I can come up with... It's technically inaccurate and fails to convey my true meaning, but will have to do for want of an actually relevant phrase. Again Made found it hard to understand what the hell they were and a copycat routine began where I would unwrap a roll, Made unwraps his roll. I use half my butter packet to moisten the bone dry, fibres labelled as mini, country, cottage, style bread, Made uses half his butter to moisten. Was like comedy mime only without the hilarity that so often accompanies those bastions of silent comedy.

A highlight of the tip for me was the announcement that the plane was approaching Singapore and would be landing shortly would we please fasten all seatbelts, etc. As well as shaking me out of my semi-hypnotic daze it left me wondering where on my itinery Singapore had been mentioned... I was booked onto flights from Bali to Doha, (for refuelling) and Doha to London... For those of you who don't know, Singapore is not really on the way from Bali to Doha... and Singapore is just a few hours from Bali... I wish I could have captured on film my response to this announcement, it could not have been more British reserve. A jerk of the head as realisation that something unexpected and potentially disastrous has happened... Followed instantly by the kick in, panic protection, mechanism to act normally and pretend that everything is fine. The sideways glances at other passengers to check if they are reacting... The hurried checking of 'inflight data' for any kind of info... No help there although it was comforting to see that we were travelling at 'random speed' per hour and were at 'high enough to kill you before you even hit the ground' height. I decide my best option is to keep my head down and follow everyone else whilst making ready to run for freedom should I detect the possibility of being detained in a Singaporian jail... My usual mix of total, passive, acceptance and hysterical over-reaction neatly bundled into a tense ball of outwardly calm energy. I would like to thank Qatar airlines for this unscheduled, unexplained and to all intents and purposes, unnecessary stop as I believe the adrenaline it pumped into my system, (not least because the take off and landing are my least favourite parts of engaging in an activity so unnatural and essentially life threatening!) and quite possible saved me impending deep vein thrombosis.

Needless to say I managed to survive the trip and enjoy just shy of three weeks of UK sanity, where the roads are drivable, animals and plants rarely attempt to kill you, electricity is dependable and what you are eating has few exciting surprises to thrill and extensively damage your body for months to come. Then I did it all again to get back to a country so blindingly hot that without wearing sunglasses the inside of your eyes burn. This time when I landed I felt like I was returning home... Scary or what?

When I returned I was gutted to learn that I had missed Adi's teeth filing ceremony... That's right a ceremony where his teeth would be filed so they form a straight line... For some this is a symbolic momentary pull on a file across your teeth, for some a fairly major operation, performed in public with no pain killers and for an extended period of time. It is, however, endured for the very important reason of controlling the bad words and thoughts that might escape otherwise... It is a ceremony that is supposed to be performed before you get married, very wise timing I feel. Adi assures me he's not planning to get married and it was more to share the costs with other families all at once, but when I look at his mum I wonder if marriage isn't closer than he might suppose?

Inabit butts and buttesses,
Ixxx
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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Alright butts and buttesses?
I'm fine as usual... Have been very active at work and been a bit too mouthy, also as usual. Had decided to try and get a bit of change going at work and consequently have been putting my hand up and making suggestions at staff meetings... unfortunately I am not the most tactful of people, (please keep your titters where they belong, inside your clothing). So rather than have a pleasant exchange of views with a wonderful outcome that benefits everyone, when I run up against beaucracy gone mad I, very mild manneredly, have refused to back down and consequently have ended up causing many problems. Will not bore you again with all the details but basically keep clashing with management over stupid ways the school is being run. I know I'm not exactly the most experienced person in the world but when lots of other people agree as well, surely it merits, at least, discussion? Apparently not. Luckily for me I am not discouraged easily and have begun a campaign of nagging style repetition in an effort to wear down the opposition, currently the opposition is still trying to shut me up... I am offering very favourable odds to anyone who would like to bet on their success??

Less work related is the house party I hosted on Friday! Invited loads of people, whole school in fact along with some extras I have met along the way. Did virtually no organisation - as is my way - and found myself at home ready for people at 4pm but with no guests, (realise that's stupidly early but lots of the assistants have families and have to get home early, so had to have it start straight after school). By 5pm have convinced myself that no-one is coming... sniff... poor, poor, big mouthed, Ian. Anyway, shortly after my assistant Saurma and her friend Tety turn up and I find myself in a bizarre tea-party style set up, (with the slight variation that I am swigging martini and vodka instead of Darjeeling or, more realistically, Tetleys). As I start to despair that anyone else is coming, Ana arrives - Yay maybe just a slow start! Saurma and Tety get up to leave!! They have to go home! Oh god! Barely know Ana and now is only me and her stuck in my house and she is not drinking! Running out of small talk around the point that a phone call comes in... It is Cepy, (a cute drum teacher from after school) needing directions. He arrives just as Ana's husband arrives to collect her... Good god above. Now find myself in my house, fully set up for twenty odd people, just me and Cepy - Who I have never spoken to before... Is like scene from a sad American teen drama.

It is now 6pm. Just as I decide that the only way to perk the night up is to make a, disastrously ill-thought out, move on Cepy, to see if I can salvage a bit of action from the evening, a phone call from Helena. They are on their way, as are at least ten other people! Yay! Thank god for Bali time! Within half an hour my house is filled with a cosmopolitan mix of people from various parts of Indonesia, America, Australia, New Zealand, the U.K. Canada and I only hate about two or three of them! Amazing ratio given my very bitchy temperament. Whilst on the subject of my bitch temperament. A certain SW at the party can seriously not handle her drink and is talking at 40 miles an hour already... slurring her speech and forgetting what's been said seconds before.

The party goes well and I am mildly tipsy, at 9pm and suggesting some cunning and very intellectual plan to all change our hair styles at school on the last day of term when even more people turn up... My house is now heaving and, (as those of you who know me will probably realise) I am feeling very pleased with myself. Various indiscreet comments are flowing from people almost as freely as the alcohol. Make some delightful shopping plans for the morrow.

In between accosting various people about their plans for the evening, I instigate a continuation of the party at a nearby club. A few people drift off as we arrange taxi's and we assemble in the street. Shortly after, around 11.30pm, as my house is apparently unlocatable by any taxi man on the island, we all pile into a couple of cars and motorbikes, (some people, three or four to a bike?!?) and make a very ill advised journey across town. Drunkenness is high but spirits are tiring so when we arrive at the bar to discover a bizarre rock and roll tribute band playing who are sooooo good it begs for dancing, it seems that Bacchus himself is watching over us. The place is too full of tables and chairs - dullness - but we quickly move aside the impediments order in some cocktails and the night continues unabated. SW is now oblitereatedly pissed but still dancing and touching various people indiscreetly, (including me! How rude and uncalled for! Honestly if the breasts weren't bad enough she has horrendous varicose veins and keeps putting her legs up on me, insert involuntary shudder here!)

Many people are drifiting off as we head towards 2am but a core of hardened alcoholics, singles and other desperados forge onto obsession, love it there! We are a teeny bit late so only have time for one quick drink as they close up before hurrying on to La Vida Loca. SW is still going powered by alcohol and Bacchus is my only answer. She is now devoting too much attention to Mr. Aris and have to intervene a couple of times to prevent what would become a disaster the next day. Some excellent music in La Vida Loca and I finally end up on a motorbike being dropped home at about 4.30am having had a very unusual 12 hours... As I pass out a last frantic thought drifts across my semi-conciousness... Oh god I have to be up at 8 to go shopping, uergh! SW ended her night snogging the face off and going home with yet another member of staff - a Chinese Indonesian called Tinos who is an actual alcoholic, possible drug addict and at least partially, insane! Have not had the courage to ask her what she was doing!!

Hope your lives are full of colour and excitement? If not do something about it... Come and live in Bali!
Love to you all,
Ixxx
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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Alright butts and buttesses?
I'm fine as usual... Have been very active at work and been a bit too mouthy, also as usual. Had decided to try and get a bit of change going at work and consequently have been putting my hand up and making suggestions at staff meetings... unfortuneatly I am not the most tactful of people, (please keep your titters where they belong, inside your clothing). So rather than have a pleasant exchange of views with a wonderful outcome that benefits everyone, when I run up against beaucracy gone mad I, very mild manneredly, have refused to back down and consequently have ended up causing many problems. Will not bore you again with all the details but basically keep clashing with management over stupid ways the school is being run. I know i'm not exactly the most experienced person in the world but when lots of other people agree as well, surely it merits, at least, discussion? Apparently not. Luckily for me I am not discouraged easily and have begun a campaign of nagging style repetition in an effort to wear down the opposition, currently the opposition is still trying to shut me up... I am offering very favourable odds to anyone who would like to bet on their success??
Less work related is the house party I hosted on Friday! Invited loads of people, whole school in fact along with some extras I have met along the way. Did virtually no organisation - as is my way - and found myself at home ready for people at 4pm but with no guests, (realise that's stupidly early but lots of the assistants have families and have to get home early, so had to have it start straight after school). By 5pm have convinced myself that no-one is coming... sniff... poor, poor, big mouthed, ian. Anyway shortly after my assistant Saurma and her friend Tety turn up and I find myself in a bizarre tea-party style set up, (with the slight variation that I am swigging martini and vodka instead of darjeeling or, more realistically, tetleys). As I start to disspaire that anyone else is coming, Ana arrives - Yay maybe just a slow start! Saurma and Tety get up to leave!! They have to go home! Oh god! Barely know Ana and now is only me and her stuck in my house and she is not drinking! Running out of small talk around the point that a phone call comes in... It is Cepy, (a cute drum teacher from after school) needing directions. He arrives just as Ana's husbund arrives to collect her... Good god above. Now find myself in my house, fully set up for twenty odd people, just me and Cepy - Who I have never spoken to before... Is like a scene from a sad American teen drama. It is now 6pm. Just as I decide that the only way to perk the night up is to make a, diasterous, move on Cepy and see if I can salvage a bit of action from the evening, a phone call from Helena. They are on their way as is at least ten other people! Yay! Thank god for Bali time! Within half an hour my house is filled with a cosmopolitan mix of people from various parts of Indonesia, America, Australia, New Zealand, the U.K. Canada and I only hate about two or three of them! Amazing ration given my very bitchy temprament.
The party goes well and I am mildly tipsy and suggesting some cunning and very intellectual plan to all change our hair styles at school on the last day of term when even more people turn up... My house is now heaving and I am feeling very pleased with myself. Various indiscreet comments are flowing from people almost as freely as the alcohol. In between accosting various people about their plans this evening I instigate a continuation of the party at a nearby club. A few people drift off as we arrange taxi's and we assemble in the street. As my house is apparently unlocatable by any taxi man on the island we all pile into a couple of cars and motorbikes, (sometimes three or four to a bike?!?) and make a very ill advised journey across town. Drunkeness is high but spirits are tiring so when we arrive at the bar cocktails are called for to keep people going it's about 12 and I am ready to dance - instead we find a bizarre rock and roll tribute band playing who are sooooo good it begs for dancing, but the place is too full of tables and chairs - dullness! We quickly move aside the impediments and the night continues well.

Many people are drifiting off as we head towards 2am but a core of hardened alcoholics forge onto obsession, love it there! We are a teeny bit late so only have time for one drink here before hurrying on to La Vida Loca. Some excellent music there and I finally end up on a motorbike being dropped home at about 4.30am having had a very unusual 12 hours...

Ixxx
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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Alright my darlings, have been absent for awhile but I'm back, hullo!
Most importantly, Lily Grace Stewart, LGS, has arrived! My family is one larger by the size of one gorgeous little bundle of blondness. I am officially an uncle, (as apposed to the adoptive 'gay uncle Ian' I have been to date!) It is an incredible feeling of joy and thankfulness to know my genes are getting passed on, bit of a sideways route but it works for meercats, (scientifically documented that families are more successful the more lesbian aunts they have, obviously this also works for gay uncles!). I also feel, well how can I put it... Oh that's right, old. I'm an uncle... John is a father.. A dad... a Da! Surely these events are several decades in the future??

What's been going on... well, the year 9 camp never happened! Disastrously gutted about that, but with the condition within Indonesia being so dodgy at the moment there was no way we could travel to Java and take a risk. For those of you out of the loop... The Bali bombings which were possibly part of the whole situation with 9/11 , the Madrid bombs and 7/7. They caught the three of those responsible and they have been held in prison over here since then... They were executed last weekend amongst all sorts of dire warnings of retribution etc... Currently there are consulate travel warnings in place for all of Indonesia but in reality the only seriously dangerous place is Java... where the bombers were executed. To re-focus from the tragic bombings to the present, Java was precisely where our school camp was heading... Outcome we're buggered. Whole thing cancelled and had to stay in school and teach - yeuch! On top of this year 7 could still go, as they were staying inside Bali!! So had to do loads of bloody cover for the teachers that went... Suck-fest is right!

In other news I am apparently beginning a small rebellion within school. Having become very dissatisfied with the despotic rule of our current principle and school board - none of whom seem to have much understanding of how to teach! - I have started to make subtle enquires within the staff and discovered a huge well of discontent. After some careful musing I have tapped into this well, stirred a teeny bit and slowly but surely we are starting to refuse... Starting small with asking why meetings don't have agenda's and minutes open and accessible to staff. Next move will be slightly harsher. A document is currently being produced to attach to a staff questionnaire on the school. Needless to say there are some quite damning comments in this document. I won't go into details here - you never know when documents can go awry and be leaked, but I may well be sacked and on my way home at Christmas instead of just visiting!! Yay for the power and excitement of the masses when in open rebellion!

However if things go well we may actually start running a decent school where staff and students are the focus instead of money and bureaucratic power, yeuch for tight-fisted, small minded, ignorant little men who seem to think they must know all about the world because they once got some questions right on a test 37 years ago. And that they should be very rude to anyone who does not completely abase themselves before their obvious might and majesty.

Anyway, clearly got my knickers in a twist over this, but will shut up now and apologise to those of you who see me over the Christmas period... as I am sure to obsessively rant to you about this at some point.

Just got my hair cut again... Aside from the ever encroaching grey I am now old enough to be able to see my scalp through the hair when it's wet!!! Oh the humanity!! I seriously don't know where to go from here... How does one pull when involuntarily bald? I can barely flirt with a full head of hair. The long slide into death is irritating enough as it is but does it really need to be punctuated with actual physical evidence of your body's deterioration? Surely we could go from youthful and healthy to dead over night... You know, like the Mayfly does, much less traumatic!

Anyway the hairdresser was either gay or had, had a very unfortunate accident involving his testes as a child, because his voice was so high falsetto singers would be envious. He smiles, in what I am sure he thinks is a beguiling manner, but in reality only makes me wish premature balding had sped up its pace and made this trip unnecessary. He led me through to the wash room where tepid water fails to warm or cool me, while a cheap, harsh shampoo with a mysterious and offensive scent is splashed liberally across my scalp causing an almost instant, irritating, rash to appear. After rinsing my scalp blessedly clean of this chemical treatment I am led back to the chair where I suffered through what can only be described as a cross between an erotic massage delivered by a limp wristed woman, (please insert involuntary shudder here) and a chimp's attempts at scissor manipulation. When he was not concentrating on touching me up while flicking sharpened metal next to my eyes he seemed obsessed with stroking various parts of my face, head, shoulders and leg?!? As time progressed the horrific realisation that he was slowly shaping my hair into a quaffed spike, which is the current, local sensational, fashion, fad crept over me. Needless to say it is dire enough on an Indonesian man, on me it makes me resemble an elderly Tintin, oh with a big, shiny, red, nose... Wonder if I'll pull tonight? He leads me back to the wash room for a second dousing in what I now faintly recognise as the smell of sheep dip. Towelling me dry as if I was a border collie, with suspiciously high levels of attention to my ears. I am led to my chair for a third time and a bright green oil is rubbed vigorously into my scalp... This does not cause any irritation although the scalp-rub which went with it almost popped open the fixed joints in my skull. He then tilts my head to an angle from where I can see all three of my chins, the shadows under my eyes and just how much of my scalp is visible through my hair and asks what I think... After smiling warmly and telling him it was wonderful I pay him the equivalent of a fiver, which includes a fairly hefty tip. Have just spent the last twenty minutes washing out all the crap off my head and attempting to sow the seeds of a come over, (for those of you who do not know me that last sentence needs to be met with a sentiment approximate to 'Poor, poor! Ian!' sniff).

On the plus side, I'm off out in half an hour to get wasted with a quite decent bunch of teachers... Sorry to enjoy an aperitif or maybe two. Hope your all missing me heaps and heaps, would be so disappointing to come home to discover that none of you were that bothered! Missing some of you loads, some of you I never quite cared for and it has been a blessed relief not to have to pander to your incessant rubbish for the last four months.
See you soon!
Ixxx
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1225604640/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1225604640/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1225604640/tpod.html Sun, 02 Nov 2008 02:02:43 -0500 Ifan, abroad again!

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Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia

Selamat Siang,
What a week!
After the Java trip and arriving home at 1.00 am it was simply delightful to find myself in school a scant six hours later... The nightmare of classes interrupted briefly by moments of calm swung into motion regardless of my minds fragile state and as usual was surprised by my body's endurance limits and how easily they could be smashed and ignored... Clearly I must be developing some sort of ulcer as a coping mechanism.

Anyway with the backdrop of exhaustion some more science kit arrived... The internal organs! Yay! Raw offal in a country as hot as hell's front porch! Bring it all in;
20 goat hearts, check,
20 pig kidneys, check,
2 cow hearts, check,
20 pig livers, check,
10 pig testes, check,
20 bull eyeballs, check,
2 cow skulls, check,
Variety of miscellaneous cow bones, check,
1 full digestive system from oesophagus to anus, (not asked for but helpfully provided by the butcher who has clearly never heard of BSE or the many health and hygiene laws which govern the UK and interestingly Bali as well... But he does do a killer discount on steak though!), check,
10 dead rabbits, check... um... is that box moving? Oh... I see.
10 live, baby, fluffy, white, pet rabbits waiting patiently for their necks to be snapped by me, check,
Crowd of irate students and teachers outside demanding to know what the rabbits are for, check.

Needless to say I was not about to kill baby, white, rabbits for dissection! They were far too small to be useful visually and the fur was far too long and would mat into the gore etc... So had to arrange for them to be sent back. Thank God! The uproar from the kids! You'd swear I was performing illegal drug trials on the reception classes. Loser's! Honest to god, I am sick to death of the organism racism that is displayed by humans... If you are genuinely a veggy then fine, you don't think I should kill animals... I'm still going to but I totally respect your right to an opinion, (even though you are still killing organisms to survive). The rest of you meat eating freaks! How dare you be annoyed at the murder of a cute, fluffy, white, rabbit and then tuck into a chicken burger. How dare you judge me for utilising a teaching tool valued the world over since the time of Leonardo and then comment on how the council isn't doing enough about the rats! Hypocritical knob-jockeys the lot of you! Anyway is all mute anyway as there are no wild rabbits in Bali! Bizarre but true - apparently. They use the white ones for the rabbit satay sold in the warungs... Aren't other cultures fascinating?
Cue the market owner refusing to take them back... fuck-a-duck, what am I going to do with ten, live, rabbits? Oh apparently 3 of them died over night so now it's seven! Apparently rabbits die very fast here due to the humidity which doesn't agree with their digestive systems... understanding a little more how the plague of rabbits seen in other countries has not occurred here! Still working on this problem... Will let you know how it turns out!

Poor Saurma, my set upon assistant, spent the rest of the day washing the organs, bagging them and putting them in the freezer - which is now kind of full... I carried on teaching, delighted in general by the delivery. Little did I know the horror Saurma had prepared for me that evening.

I finish my lessons and get ready for the next challenge. I approach Ms Jenny... The canteen owner and mother of a pupil in year 8... Cunningly I convince her to let me boil the cows skulls etc in her pots... And for the next three exhausting hours I labour over steaming bowls of sewage smelling water... scraping and turning... scraping and turning... scraping and turning... Yeuch! Then finally hauling the partly de-fleshed carcasses over to the science room to be washed and soaked in cold water overnight. It is now seven pm and as I open the prep room door I am met by a stench so awful I actually recoil - yes that overly dramatic reflex action seen in Hollywood movies is in fact real!

It takes seconds to size up that Saurma has gone home leaving the livers out in a bowl of water. They have therefore swollen to twice their original size, falling out all over the prep room dripping blood everywhere... I dump the bones and look at the time... I have three minutes to get off site before the guards lock the doors and fall asleep... Extremely tired I shrug my shoulders and leave... Knowing that tomorrow will be another hard, hard, day of explaining. I love Saurma, she puts up with my excessive demands really, very patiently... but for goodness sake! Who leaves raw live out in water in Bali?!? Moronic is what it is. She could at least have come and told me! Very cross but considering how unreasonable I am I chalk it up as karma and throw the livers away the next day! The science room and adjacent rooms smell so badly that komodo dragon like lizards have gathered around the doors... After chasing them away, (something which becomes a fun new strategy game over the course of the week, stop the river lizards stealing my bones, yay for the wonderous diversity and ingenuity of life!) I open all doors and windows and turn the ac and fans onto full. The room still stinks worse than Gordon Browns attempts at leadership. Cue the next three days of disaster management and excuses to staff who are put out by the, cough, slight lingering smell. God! You try to do a good thing for people!! Try to help the kids by getting them to hack up internal organs and this is the thanks you get! Hmmm... possibly a teeny bit in the wrong... Feel like I am... But for the life of me can't see where...

Finally on Friday a new order - this time of electrical equipment arrives... amongst the very useful lamp switches, (cut off actual lamps and stuffed in a bag... cough) and the actually correct items are 50 adaptor plugs... Actual massive adaptor plugs?? The kind not seen in Britain for many years. A short time later I am in the office asking Mr Aris why I have these and what possible use could I have for them?

He explains patiently and slightly condescendingly that I ordered them... don't I remember? I spent all that time last Tuesday, explaining what I wanted to him?? Breathing in and counting to ten I try to remember that although this man has, this week, delivered me ten live rabbits, he is not a complete and total waste of human skin and is in fact a diligent hard-working man. That despite that fact that one out of every two items he brings me are almost 'faulty towers' in their misinterpreted genius, he is not deliberately trying to sabotage me and is attempting to help. A momentary vision of what would have happened to the pyramids of Giza, had they been fortunate enough to have Mr. Aris ordering stone for them, flashes through my mind.

Thought processes processed and calm re-established I smile and unravel with him what has happened, arrange for them to be sent back and the correct equipment, (electrical jacks!!) to be delivered. I turn to leave and he adds as a throw away remark, 'oh and Kimia Farma called - the prices have gone up on all your items so they haven't ordered them yet they need a new order, which Mr. Ian will have to approve again'

I met with kimia farma last week and they gave me their prices... on receiving my order they have raised their prices by a considerable amount and will not be delivering on Monday as previously discussed... (much of my planning for next week depends on these items and getting Mr. Ian to approve them usually takes about three to four weeks... if you are lucky!)

The last, wafer thin thread of patience snaps. In a calm voice I ask Mr. Aris to phone Kimia Farma. He does. I then explain in a very patient and diplomatic style to the jumped up, little, owner of a drug store, that this is not very fair and enquire how I can place an order with a company which has no set price list, no ethics and who think honour is a brand of cleaning detergent? Finally I ensure they understand the importance of filling my order as speedily as possible and request a delivery date for my goods? Half an hour later I hang up the phone, hand it back to Mr. Aris and stand up to leave the office. I suddenly become aware that Mr. Aris is staring at me, as are the rest of the finance team in the office. Apparently you could hear my shouting in reception. No doubt I will have my wrist slapped over this as well... Ooops. Kimia farma call back five minutes later to inform me that the order has been processed and will be with me next week... I manage to accept their apologies with good grace, although I do rip an order sheet into little pieces as I say 'terima kasih' through gritted teeth.

Loving you all into little tiny pieces, (so I can sneak you back in my luggage disguised as legitimate trade items)
Ixxx
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224913080/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224913080/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224913080/tpod.html Sun, 02 Nov 2008 01:41:28 -0400 Ifan, abroad again!

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Banguwangi, Indonesia

Hullo my darlings,
Sorry have been absent for awhile but have been a busy, little, bee. I traveled to Java for a quick weekend to check out the conditions for a camp being run in the next couple of weeks. It was amazing... You wouldn't think that such a tiny gap of water could affect such a transformation, but then again France and the UK... Java is clearly poorer, there is less extravagance and the people are a little less friendly. There are almost no temples anywhere, (the people are almost entirely Muslim rather than Hindu and it is obvious immediately. What I had taken as Indonesian style / culture is definitely a Balinese version and I think on the whole I prefer the Balinese version of life. However... Java had amazing sights and although we spent almost all the weekend traveling it was worth it.

On the first day we traveled up along the west coast of Bali and saw some picturesque beeches and cliffs along with a mahusive temple complex, that was easily taller than the national museum in Cardiff, just on it's own outside a city. The ferry was interesting, but luckily the crossing was flat. Was amused by the flock of small boys volunteering to jump off the top of the ferry for money... until people started to throw coins off, (UK value about 2.5p) that the boys actually jumped after like performing monkeys. They were there out of choice and they are selling their skill and an entertainment like so many of us but there was definitely something... unwholesome about it that left me feeling a bit uneasy. Not sure I will be happy to let our kids command performances for pocket change. Anyway enough sociological musings. Had carefully applied sunscreen to my face, neck, ears, arms, legs, feet, in fact all parts of my exposed body... Or so I thought, the underneath of my arms burned during the ferry trip, that's right the milk bottle white, never seen, shaded parts of my body burnt bright red... Yay for reflected rays so strong they can destroy your skin structure! Not! We ate fried chicken, (entire chickens dumped into a deep fat fryer until they are a neon yellow colour, Mmmm Mmmm, just like KFC) Did find it a bit disconcerting to be eating an animals face, (wonder if mine would taste as good) but the neck was delicious - clearly underused anatomical wonder!

We then entered the vast teak and mahogany managed forests that cover a large section of East Java. They were impressive and very regularly planted without too large a monoculture basis, which was nice to see. With a bit of cloud cover, the A.C. blasting in the car and the trees leafless as part of their yearly cycle, it was almost like driving down the Gower, through dense woodland in autumn. For awhile it was nostalgia central until we reached the last real house. Then the government clearly saw no reason to continue with roads. The forest managers saw no reason to make it easier to get in and out of land packed with hugely valuable trees and so the 'road' became a collection of rocks held together by gravity as much as anything else along with an occasional 'iceberg' rock which would require us to divert into the forest to pass. Fun? Do I hear you say? Well yes it was quite jolly for the first hour crawling at 20 Kph but by the time hour two was ending I was more or less ready to kill someone for a stretch of road that would allow my vision to stop shaking. Mind the occasional monkey troop or displaying peacock did keep the boredom at bay.

We eventually reached the camp in the heart of Trianggulassy the national park. It resembled the stock horror movie camp, you know where that group of teenagers get lost and stumble across an abandoned camp up in the mountains, all rundown and shabby, paint peeling, bits falling off? They invariably think what a good idea it would be to stay here instead of seeking actual human help or finding our way home. Cue one by one them disappearing only to reappear dead and dismembered in a variety of intriguing ways apart from the one who disappeared first who is in fact the demented serial killer who has led them all to this spot in the first place, (please insert fake dramatic, shocked, pause with sharp in-breath here). The toilets were by far in a away the most fascinating part of this camp, squat and hand-flush of course, (only the best for our kids) And naturally coated in several layers of filth, encrusted so deeply and firmly that original shape and colouration of the rooms is impossible to identify. There were clearly cleaned regularly as my eyes started to burn as I entered (there was no way any microbe could gain a foot hold before being poisoned by the levels of toxic chemicals dispensed liberally and then left to ensure no growth could occur before the next yearly spraying). Rather than allow one of our students to develop their killer instinct or die of water-born pathogens we decide we may skip the delights of returning to Neanderthal man's slob like cousins house.

Next stop - several jiggled hours later, (and those are not the good kind of jiggling hours!) we arrived in Kali Baru. At the Margo Utomo hotel, (founded in the early 1900's by a severe couple of Indonesians, one of Chinese and one of Indian descent who's pictures stare out from many photos / portraits around the complex... disturbingly sitting on many of the same items of furniture!). Clearly colonially Dutch, the furniture is gorgeous, the hotel luxurious, (by comparison at least) and the food is lovely, (although they do seem to think that mozzarella is a kind of cheddar/Parmesan blend!?!). The hotel was linked to a farm and plantation. The kids, (and clearly moi) will be milking cows and making cheese, (Yay for learning how to make a mozzarella that is in fact a cross between cheddar and Parmesan!) They also grow; Coffee, sugar palm, cinnamon, cloves, vanilla, rubber, cacao, (that's chocolate to you and me, yum!) as well as every type of fruit you can think of, including a type of passion fruit the size of a marrow! It was brilliant, and got to eat raw cacao flesh... so good! Less good were the caged birds of many different species around the hotel... too small were there aviaries, too sad were the birds... although the giant fruit bat seemed content enough.

Next day we traveled to Ijen a, currently, dormant volcano. There we found the recipe for the Catimore homestay.

Recipe time: 100 years preparation, 10-20 years for seasoning and presentation.
Step 1. Set up Indonesian archipelago using volcanic uprisings leave to simmer.
Step 2. Add 1 Dutch colonial building - high in the mountains, (so high it is as cold as the UK, about 10-11 degrees, yay!) built in 1895 to aid with the subduing of the natives and exploitation of the superb coffee growing region.
Step 3. Slowly develop into a kind of Butlins holiday resort over a period of fifty to sixty years.
Step 4. Allow mixture to enjoy a period of calm and prosperity for 30 - 40 years and then fall on hard times for a couple of decades.
Step 5. Serve as a cheap destination for people who are not up themselves ex-pats.

Serves up to 100.

Here there is gorgeous waterfalls and hot springs, (soooo good!) and is the launching spot for the trek up Ijen to watch the sunrise from the crater at the top, with the pure blue lake and sulphur mining!! The hot springs are where I discover our handsome guide as angel wings tattooed along the full length of his back... ... ... ... ... ... sorry zoned out there.

Finally set off for home and traveled for a long old time until arrived back home at about 1.00 am on Sunday night... School is going to be fun in the morning!

Love to you all my happy little funsters, (countdown to arrival Ian - 56 days and counting!)
Ixxx
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224349200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224349200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1224349200/tpod.html Sat, 18 Oct 2008 01:48:25 -0400 Ifan, abroad again!

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Umalas, Indonesia

Alright everybody? Hope so! Just had some figures flash up and tell me that 217 viewing of my blog this month so far... clearly that is a lie! Fairly scary... 887 viewings since I started, what the hell is wrong with you people?? Haven't you got lives?? Obviously my mam, and bestest friends would be reading this out of a sense of obligation, but who are the rest of you?? Clearly this is all just a fallacy and to test it I have a plan! If you are reading this, (and you know me) then please e-mail me the answer to this question on Facebook :- What is my name? We will see! If you are reading this, (and you don't know me) then hi! What are you doing? Who the hell are you? and more importantly are you a hot man?? Anyway back to business...

Life has been pretty dull the last week - Holiday has brought with it a heatwave that has sucked the life out of me. I have managed to go out a couple of nights but nothing massive and certainly no talent to speak of!

Adi continues to be inexplicably attractive, despite, or quite possibly because of, the number of girls he is now dating / sleeping with... Uurrgghh! Why oh why has god not sent me a straight acting, man lover, with a large IQ and love of walking in cold rain and playing games, (of all varieties) with possibly a minor deformity somewhere, (just a facial scar or missing limb - nothing excessive) who is completely and totally smitten with me?!? Honestly it's not too much to ask after a life time of turning my back on religion and not speaking to him for ten years, (although we seem to be on better terms recently). Really it's almost enough to make me want to try helping myself and start actively looking for him!! Almost.

I went to Helena's temporary house for drinks, (lucky cow! She landed a 120 million Rp house for free for two weeks from a parent who heard she was homeless!!) for those of you unfamiliar with Helena let me paint a brief portrait... She is a crazy woman from Spain - or more accurately from Catalonia, a bit like the Welsh, English divide, she does not really think of herself as Spanish. Yay for cultural diveristy amoungst all mankind! She is a bit older than me and has been married, she has also worked in Finland and Ireland before coming here... She went to work in Ireland not speaking English... Can you imagine?? It's bad enough here in Bali where most people speak my language a bit... She is fun and a bit wild. Life is never dull when she's around, as you will see shortly! She is currently dating an Indonesian, from Java, called Agung, who is much too good at chess for my liking! He is gorgeous and has a nice personality as well... Clearly unfair!

Anyway was at Helena's villa for drinks and a couple of Agung's friends were there as well - a moderately attractive guitar player and a skinny Transvestite in male form called Donny, (Donna at night). Was forced to down a shot of Arak every two minutes or so - yeuch, rats piss mixed with white spirit - for the majority of the evening and to sing! Those of you who know me will know I would rather skin my own face, fry it in butter and eat it, than sing in public!! But was quite a fun evening until suddenly people were being thrown in the pool and they were naked! How rude! Needless to say I kept a British reserve and did not join in this hedonistic display of carnality! Well there was no-one there I was likely to hook up with so...? Agung had other ideas and unceremoniously snatched me up and dumped me in the pool, shortly afterwards joining Helena in ripping my clothing from me like a scene from some bad horror flick! (This is what happened and any reports of a struggle and chase ending with me gripping the kitchen bar and refusing to let go for five minutes is entirely a figment of some, licentious, peoples imaginations!). Needless to say I was simultaneously mortified and amused. Luckily for me I had discreetly nipped to the toilet and emptied my pockets and swopped my underware for swimming shorts so was not totally dismayed at finding myself in the pool... Was a strange free feeling being unfettered in the water... took me back to happy times in Switzerland, Greece, Cardiff and playing place the bottle in Annecy one time while it rained. Yay! for freedom and the spirit of the sixties. Needless to say I behaved modestly and discreetly until it was time to get dressed again before passing out in the guest bedroom, (with the door firmly locked!) Yay! for the spirit of the sixties being along time ago and very far away from me! Far too old and stuffy to engage in this kind of lifestyle!

The next day was awakened by Helena telling me the Landlord had called the parent who had given Helena the house and the parent had called Helena to ask what was going on? Some kind of wild party which had resulted in smashed and broken property! Worried I got up and surveyed the scene outside... spotless! Nothing broken and no damage! Admittedly everyone's clothing from the previous night was strewn across the garden like some sad laundry day post hurricane, but that was quickly tidied up, (apart from the jeans and pants we never could get down off the roof... but the added to the decor I felt...) And twenty minutes later the next prospective tenants were shown round. I having nothing to wear smiled happily from an armchair unfazedly wrapped in a towel and sipping a hot cup of tea. Yay! for British stiff upper lips!

Later that day helped Helena move to her new house! Nice and three bedroom... Nice location and only 42 million... Damn but I got stiffed on my house! Oh well will do better next time... if I stay?!?

Anyway, signing out for now pep's
Love to everyone, unreservedly this time, in the spirit of this weeks blog!
Ixxx
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1223093340/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1223093340/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1223093340/tpod.html Sat, 04 Oct 2008 00:10:10 -0400 Ifan, abroad again!

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Umalas, Indonesia

Hullo,
Bare with me if this message is slightly garbled but am still suffering from some of the symptoms I am about to relate. On the Friday following the disastrous adventure involving Mr. Ketut and Mr. Ketut, I was feeling a little bit tired and stressed, but was totally unprepared for what was to follow. My temperature kept rising throughout the weekend and between sweating my own body weight and the fever breaking on Sunday I had developed some interesting new symptoms... A charming stabbing pain that expands rapidly through my chest, beginning just below my ribs on the left side and shooting in both directions across to my spine and the right side of my ribs. Despite the startling pain I am happy to say it only actually bothers me when I laugh, when something inside my body moves position or when I inhale. Lucky it isn't something more continuous eh?

Ok, so the pain drove me to the hospital... International SOS is a private hospital, who kindly only demand $50 up front before rendering aid to the sick, (luckily for me, as I still have no money left after paying rent!) After an ECG, a chest x-ray and several blood tests as well as a medical exam that allowed a doctor to get so close I'm expecting the flowers and second date phone call any minute now, (oh! Who am I kidding, I'm really expecting the embarrassing moment when I run into him with his wife at the supermarket and realise he's just a window shopper!) the prognosis was a viral infection... God knows I could have told them that several million Rp ago!.. I get sent home and told to rest, Eurgh! More rest! I am starting to hallucinate through boredom and the Will and Grace marathon is starting to warp my view of the world into neat little twenty minute sections of knotty drama which resolve into a meaningless soup all ready to repeat the next time through! By the way, for those of you keeping count that's the seventh ECG in my life so far... at this rate you'll be able to tell my age by how many the number has gone up!

So the next day I wake up and cautiously inhale... No pain! I twist gently to the side... No pain! Could it be the doctor was right?!? Surely the first instance of this happening in a good thirty years or so?!? I get out of bed and make for the bathroom. Many emotions run through my head as I peel myself up from the cold ceramic tiles of my bedroom floor, but the most complex of these can be summed up very simply - 'Ow!' Shakily I stand and attempt to walk into the bathroom a second time. This time, ready for a trick, I manage to stop short of the doorframe and avoid knocking myself unconscious. I feel my way into the bathroom and complete my ablutions, stand up and end up falling sideways into the bath... I can't help wondering, as I heave myself back over the side, when my life became an episode of the three stooges and when did the Earth's spinning become so erratic?

Your sense of balance is surprisingly debilitating, I can't walk or even move my head slightly, without the world swimming. As a result I can barely eat without wanting to throw up. Needless to say I went back to the doctor and our second date was very traumatic, but after the whole wife issue was talked through we managed to sort out my medical concerns. I am now on anti-vertigo medication, anti-nausea medication, two types of gastric med's and enough vitamins to render an Olympic ban and yet the world keeps turning, turning, turning - oh god I feel sick!

However life's not all bad... got so bored that have started going out and about with the help of friends - too god damn boring staying in! - Had a full body massage yesterday and let me tell you, apart from the bit where a woman touches your ass, (please insert image of involuntary shudder here), they rock!! Seriously awesome and they don't involve moving! Yay for the inventors of stationary exercise! Afterwards felt wiped but all glowy. Anyway my sickness means I have limited news so it's up to you guys to entertain me!! Apa Kabar?

Loving oh so many of you right now,
Ixxx


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1222400820/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1222400820/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/ifanabroad/1/1222400820/tpod.html Tue, 30 Sep 2008 23:49:38 -0400 Ifan, abroad again!

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Umalas, Indonesia

Good health,
Well my friends and ex-colleagues... Where to start... Oh I know... Thursday morning. It was a hazy, start, but when I ventured to school at 6.30am you could still see the distant blue mountain peaks either side of the volcano's silhouette. I approached the schools gates with an unusual frisk to my step. Today my microscopes along with $2000 worth of kit arrive! Real science can begin today!! Up the plateau steps to my classroom I bound, a scent of wild pollen and wet earth from the previous night's rain. Gosh what a day to be alive and living in bountiful, beautiful, Bali. As I sit down and start my morning routine, (plug in seven hundred wires while laptop boots, switch on the A.C. to achieve room temperature in the room and down the luke-warm tea made from sub-standard leaves and partially dehydrated milk) I realise that there is a small puddle on the floor... Hmmm... Has the rain, again, pervaded the floor? (despite the hundreds of pounds of excavation work, done over the summer hols) No, that's not it... Most of the floor is dry and oh! There! The sink beside my desk is dribbling from it's attachment, so unattractive in the morning. Anyway, I decide there is only one answer... Call Mr. Ketut! So a short dialing later... 'Mr. Ketut! Mr. Ketut! Come and fix my sink please!'

'Oh well' I think, 'no worries, today is still a bloody good day!' I trot off to collect a box of valuable broken toys from reception years leaving the hugely competent Mr. Ketut to fix the sink. It is a shame that Mr. Ketut has not yet arrived at school, as he is far sexier than Mr. Ketut, (this is probably a good time to explain that there are two Mr. Ketuts, rather unfairly fate has cast one as beautiful and very good at his job, the other is fat, has chosen to sprout a rather odd growth on his upper lip - possibly to try and disguise his god awful face, but has simply made him look like a constipated, consternated, west-countriated, terrier, he is also hugely incompetent and is possibly the result of familiar incest for several generations, no, no that is unfair! After all I must be honest and truthful - I love west-country terriers).

Anyway. As I leap, Impala-like, back towards my classroom, I begin to feel a twitch... just a hint of what is coming... I imagine it is similar to how Capone felt as he dodged his last tax bill, that sneaking suspicion that you have over-looked a minor problem in your gigantic crime empire / early morning routine. I open my classroom door to see a stunning recreation of the last moments of the titanic's tragic demise. A rising tide of water is creeping inexorably toward the library, my last set of stock arrivals and me! A, literal, fountain of water is cascading up out of a pipe, hitting into the table above it and splashing sideways near vertically, wonderfully giving me a flashback to Trafalgar Square when my life was simple and getting to a farewell performance of Les Mis, a minor heart condition, moving my entire life to the other side of the world and a lack of a working visa, was all I had to worry about, (sigh!). I jerk back painfully to reality and notice the huge bulk of Mr. Ketut, (Hitherto to be known as the Unutterably moronic throwback to a simpler time when multi-cellular life had yet to complicate the universe with ideas of co-ordinating more than one cell at a time, or UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! For ease of communication.) Standing next to the fountaining water, soaked, looking at the water in shock as if only now noticing that water is somewhere it shouldn't be... I am shocked by the rate at which the water is rising - seriously reminiscent of the Titanic's stampede toward oblivion - I can see that in seconds it will reach the electric sockets against the far wall, (My whole room is shaped like a basin, sloped away from the doors you see - to enhance such disasters no doubt). UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! Is stood inches from the sockets and for half a second I consider allowing natural selection to continue it's good work and make the world a fitter place, but the Catholic school boy in my past rouses sleepily and half yells 'UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! Get out of the water!!' After all I have just noticed that my laptop has been saved by a freak table corner blocking it from being soaked! Yay for fate not being totally without pity! Shame to have a 'man' die until he really pisses me off, after all what could I do to the person who did come between me and electronic satiation? That old rat-in-a-bowl torture thing is so eighteen hundreds and don't think much of this modern electrode business... Far too close to some people's idea of a good time for me!

Thankfully that oh so useful preservation instinct that is embedded so deep in both us and cockroaches has not yet been eradicated from UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! And his bulk responds, stepping out of the water and then turning around to watch! Just as the surge protector explodes in flame and a ripple of electricity flashes across the waters surface. Santa Maria and all the angels! I turn to UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! 'Where's the stopcock?' Ha! As if the word stopcock was going to translate!! I try gesturing emphatically but still I get the shrugged shoulders, (Brighter than his dad/brother you see! That's what you get for sending the boy off to primary school when he turned 18 instead of selling him for offal like his mum/grandmother wanted to do!) As he has mastered this universal sign language for 'I'm a moron' I finally manage to recruit our librarian, Bowling, (no jokes please she is lovely! And boys, pheworh! Not my cup of tea like, but that is one fine looking woman!) to translate. UMTTASTWMLHYTCTUWIOCMTOCAAT! Manages to shrug again and by a process similar to slouching but involving less speed, efficiency and with only a distant nod at the grace slouching embodies, he departs. My headmaster arrives and with a display of gymnastic aerobics which is actually quite touching swings across to my laptop and rescues it, (from it's perfectly dry position, but still!). We are now twenty minutes into the fiasco and the water pressure has not lessened a jot - possibly due to the schools low position compared to the acres of rice paddies currently flooded with water and acting as a reservoir above us - Yay! for waters ability to combine pressure and force litres per second through tiny openings. I realise that half the power is still on and bustle off to switch it off before something worse happens. The library is now being threatened as is the prep room, (with my brand new fridge and freezer in!!!) and the English room...

I realise the only chance is to get up to Canggu Club and get them to turn off their water, (well actually one of the housekeeping staff tips me off, honestly they are the best people to get anything done!) Race up to find My headmaster is there trying to sort it out... At this point Mr. Ketut arrives and with his usual gruff indifference, (Woof!) half jerks his head at the catastrophe, strolls outside, starts to count out steps much like Jim Hawkins must have done and at an undistinguishable point in the floor... digs up a stopcock! Casually switches it off and flashes me one of his incredibly rare half-smiles. Almost jump into his arms and kiss him, but realise that this might not be the correct moment and so slump down onto a bench and start to panic over how I am going to bake bread with twenty year 8's in, oh, fifteen minutes! - Fuck-a-duck! - At this point Mr. Tre arrives with a man carrying a huge box - My kit has arrived and needs to be checked / double checked and then sent back as it is mostly wrong, right better get started on that! End up miming bread-making which keeps a messy and fairly fun prac different and a bit special, especially when spiced up with tales of the flood!

Your long suffering and ailing friend in foreign parts,
Ixxx
P.S. Where the hell is that Catholic school boy when I need to get inside the head of good hearted straight men? Clearly I need to wake him up with more morally objectionable thinking! Who am I fooling? I can't even remember what morally objectionable thinking is like... let alone what the difference is between straight and gay men! Both definitions seem to primarily consist of; male, git and uninterested! (Oh well at least I've got bitter and bitchy nailed for the next fifty years, hate to think my matrondom would suddenly arrive with me all unprepared!!).

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