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Catch Me Over at Studio T (the Tea Collection Blog)!

In my debut guest post, I FINALLY write about all of the idiosyncrasies of daily life here in China.  Culturally, the US and China are like an apple and an orange and living here with two small children has been quite an adventure.  I’m so grateful for the opportunity to expose our children to such different cultural norms and also for their ability to soften and help shape my own perspective and experience of a new culture.

It couldn’t be more fitting for my post to be featured on the Tea Collection Blog – through their line of kids clothing, they aspire to connect people (especially the little ones) to the world and draw inspiration for their seasonal lines from cultures all over the globe.  Hop on over (by clicking the photo below) and read away!  And while you’re at it, check out their new line inspired by Urban China.

 

Letters to My Children – Because You Never Really Know

Is it strange that I just created a folder on my desktop titled “In Case I Die”?  The best friend of a friend of mine just died of a brain aneurysm – one more of the dozens of reminders over the last few years about how finite our lives are.  Of how little control we really have over our life (or our death).  Part of it is getting older and realizing that my body isn’t invincible, after all, and part of it is the feeling of being indebted to children whose lives would be so heavily impacted by my death.  It takes me about 2 seconds of thinking of my own death, in relation to my children, to produce a tear.  Maybe not even that.  (And even less if I think of the opposite).  I often think about how easily I could now make myself cry if I were an actress playing out a sad scene.  Becoming a mother deepens your emotional capacity oh, I don’t know, like 968%.

If I can’t control when or how I go, the very least I can do is do a little prep work so that my children aren’t left totally without me.  And so I’m writing them both letters that will be located in an easily accessed folder on my computer, just in case… because you never really know.

As I began to write, it dawned on me that I really wasn’t sure about what tidbits of information I wanted to write in stone.  How would I begin to encapsulate, in a letter, who I was in a way that they could feel?  So that [even in the teensiest, weensiest way] it would fill the piece of them they were left without?  Would it be full of memories and my analysis of who they were?  Would it be words of wisdom that I’ve gathered throughout my life?  Would it be a vision of them in the future I wouldn’t physically be present for?  One thing I knew for certain was that it would be a great chance to clearly explain and define the values I so hope they’ll develop in life: self assurance, love, compassion, kindness, and recognition that they are stewards of the earth – just to name a few.  And also that I would start the letter off with my deepest, heart-filled apology, followed with my deepest, heart-filled, and unconditional, love.

I’m going to go give them both an extra tight squeeze and do my damndest to remember, every day, how grateful I am to have them.

And when I’m finished with theirs, I’m going to write one for my Mister.  And when I’m done with his, I’m going to write one for my parents.  And brothers.  And extended family.  And friends.  It might take me until I’m 80, but eventually, they’ll all be written.

 

Road Tripping Eastern Bali

We were part of the lot of semi crazy tourists who rent a car without a driver and negotiate the roads of Bali in naivity.  Think: {Americans} driving on the left-hand side of the road, with a left-handed clutch, down streets that were LITERALLY only wide enough to fit two cars side by side, in the middle of mayhem.  Needless to say, I didn’t make it past the Hyatt parking lot – I left the driving to my left-handed, quick-reflexed husband.  I can handle two, maybe three of those obstacles, but put them all together and it’s too much for me to handle.  AND it was my birthday, so there.  Of course, having a car gave us the flexibility to go wherever we chose and at whatever pace we needed.  Because the roads were quite chaotic, buzzing with cars and motorbikes, driving was not a completely stress free task, so we didn’t do quite as much as I had originally intended.  We did, however, take two pretty epic road trips to the central and northeast parts of the island.

The first brought us to a Hindu temple, Pura Goa Lawah, that is built at the site of an enormous cave housing in the high hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of bats.  Having gone to Deer Cave in Mulu National Park on Borneo, I wasn’t thinking that I’d be dazzled with its contents (Deer Cave is the largest volume cave on the planet and is home to over 3 million bats).  After nearly being scammed into buying sarongs by hawkers near the entrance (they are required when entering a Hindu temple), we paid our entrance fee and were dressed in returnable sarongs and sashes by our tour guide.  A quick tour of the temple brought us to the mouth of the cave, where another temple is found 50 meters in (but only Hindu people are allowed to enter on religious holidays).  And well, I was cool with that because buzzing not far above our heads were thousands of bats – in almost pure daylight.  There are so many inhabitants in the cave that the last ones in at night get the short end of the stick and are forced to hunker down in an area that is largely exposed to light.  Unlike Deer Cave, in the cave at Goa Lawah, the bats were only 20-50 feet above our heads, so we were able to clearly see them.  The best (and saddest) part of the bat cave was a baby bat that had fallen from its mama during their nightly dining jaunt and been put back on a low lying rock by temple employees – 4 year old, animal-obsessed Safari immediately fell in love.  Upon seeing the below photo she told me, “please don’t show me that photo again, it’s TOO cute.”

From there we headed northeast towards a walk I had read about between two villages, Tenganan and Tirtaganga.  One of the VERY best parts of tropical travel are fresh young coconuts.  VERY best.  Coconuts might just be my favorite thing to grow on a tree.  There isn’t much you can’t do with them and isn’t much they don’t provide for you in terms of vitamins and minerals.   And so, it didn’t take us long to find a road side stall selling the buggers.

As we ascended up into the mountains of Eastern Bali, we became slightly nervous about the state of our POS rental car, not to mention the fact that the road looked like it was made for motorbikes.  But onward we drove into fairly unknown territory; the roads of Bali are largely unmarked and even where they are marked, getting your bearing on where you are is nearly impossible because most villages aren’t clearly identified, so putting yourself in the context of a map is a difficult task.  That and the best “road map” I could find didn’t even call out the names of the roads anyway.  We were basically flying blind.  Because of this, we pretty much ended up taking turns based on our sense of direction, which didn’t bring us to our intended destination, but did bring us through some pretty epic countryside and endless rice terraced hills.  We had hoped to get some good views of Gunung Agung, a centerpiece of Balinese life and a nearly 10,oooft high volcano, but the day was hazy and we could barely make out its sillouette.

We made our descent out of the mountains through Bangli, one of Bali’s oldest villages, through Iseh and its lush terraced hills and coconut groves, then eventually through Klungkung and back to our beach abode in Sanur – bleary eyed and ready for a sunset infused pina colada.

We woke up the next morning ready for another island adventure – and, it happened to be my birthday, so I was especially bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed. Our plan was to head to the north end of the island and do a little trek about Gunung (Volcano) Batur, then end our day in Ubud.  And we managed to do just that (and then some), thanks to a little help from Google Maps and crazy international roaming charges.  Driving north to the volcano brought us through Gianyar and it felt like for MILES and MILES, we drove past temple after temple after temple.  Much of the architecture in Bali, to my untrained eye, looks temple-like, but in this particular area, we’re talking legit temples.

I have mixed reviews about our drive around Gunung Batur.  We chose it over Gunung Agung because it’s currently more active and we had hoped to see it puffing smoke (which we didn’t see).  The initial view as you begin the descent down to it is stunning.  It’s Bali’s most active volcano and a large lava field surrounds much of its southern face.  Because it was a hot day and we have two young kids who follow us around, getting out and hiking wasn’t really an option.  Due to this, the 2+ hour drive around the volcano, although rollercoastery and through visually interesting lava-land, wasn’t quite worth it (especially when you factor in the major truck jam created ascending back up into the mountains).  Nonetheless, driving through small villages that had been rebuilt on top of devastating lava-flows and watching 8 year old children driving their own scooters still made for a nice drive.

Upon our descent down the mountains into Ubud and after a serious toddler poo incident (think: the side of the road with too little wiping material and an accidental step in said poo), we surprisingly came upon the rice terraces of Tegalalang, which provided a perfect stopover for our road weary children.  After another fresh young coconut, a few Bintang’s, and some local cuisine, we set back on the road toward Ubud and against my better judgement, the Sacred Monkey Forest of Padangtegal.  At the heart of the Monkey Forest project is the desire to conserve and educate people about the Macaque monkey populations on Bali that are threatened by deforestation.  But what you get are tourists who view the animals as objects of affection, objects to be used for ones own enjoyment.  Much like a zoo (with the HUGE exception that the monkeys inhabit a very large forested area and are free to roam as they please), the monkeys are on display and used by tourists as entertainment.  Needless to say, our kids would have gladly moved in to the temple there.  Bananas are sold at both entrances to the forest and monkeys will literally climb on a persons shoulder to be rewarded with a banana.  What results are occasional monkey attacks – they ARE wild animals – on unsuspecting, but no doubt arrogant, tourists.  I had hoped that our kids first monkey encounter would come at the end of a search, with excited anticipation, but all in all, they DID get to see wild monkeys – even if the circumstances were less-than-wild.

After leaving the Monkey Forest, we promptly spent FAR too much time in the car, in complete Balinese gridlock.  The biggest downside of Bali is the shear amount of cars and motorbikes all navigating the world’s most narrow streets.  Though you would definitely fare better on a motorbike, the traffic issues are a bummer – and we were there during the low-season.  The upside of this is that you get to make friends with families riding in the bed of the truck in front of you.

Ubud has long been known as the art center of Bali – which is saying a lot, because to me, “art” is found everywhere you look on Bali.  But because of this, it’s attracted foreigners since the 1930’s; it feels very much like an expat enclave and exhibits everything that is hip about Balinese culture.  With yoga studios, natural foods stores, art galleries, an abundance of vegetarian restaurants and cool bars, Ubud is basically a backpackers haven.  I can’t say that we didn’t romance about living in the countryside around Ubud at some point in life – it has all the comforts of alternative western culture with a rich Indonesian flare AND all the fresh young coconuts you could ever want – who wouldn’t want to move there?  We spent our evening gazing at a dazzling sunset over a rice paddy, while the kids searched for geckos and we sipped on cocktails made of local Balinese rice liquor – arak.