EIGHT MONTHS THUS FAR IN JAKARTA

I haven't made a blog entry for almost two months because real life has demanded I turn my attention to work, self-inquiry and reflection devoid of delusions. In other words, my ego got a major ass-kicking that needed to happen. For a deeper explanation, please see Sally Kempton's article "Waking Life," in the March, 2008 issue of Yoga Journal, because its all part of the growth process. We never stop growing, I suppose, as long as we're willing to jump through whatever firey hoops we encounter.

In my case, I came down with bronchitis in March and was in bed for about a week. This pretty much triggered a ten-day depression that saw me sobbing on the phone to my brother and going though the narcissistic pangs of "Oh, my God, I've wasted my LIFE!!" Looking at the same four walls for over a week in a town where the imams crank it up five times a day regardless of how bad you feel while your collegues at work are struggling with E Coli doesn't tend to breed the most cheerful attitude.

The good news is -- I got over it. Thank God for meditation, mantras, 12-step fellowships, work and Effexor.

Since then I've been extremely busy with work and spiritually related activities that are keeping me humble and in the moment. I really don't care to get specific except to say that the longer I stay here the more I come to realize that the Journey is the Destination. When you live in a city as infrastructurally challenged as Jakarta, you either surrender to a higher knowledge of acceptance or descend into the abdominally cramped existance of self-loathing and resentment.

Its just that simple.

THE CALL TO PRAYER

One of the things I enjoy about the Indonesian Culture I’ve been exposed to is that it gives me a great opportunity to see just how ingrained faith is in the day to day lives of the people. Up until recently, December 21, 2007 to be exact, I had been frustrated with the mosques that surround my boarding house. Five times a day, an imam will intone a call to prayer, usually around 4:30 am, that is broadcast over a loudspeaker throughout the neighborhoods of Jakarta. If there are several mosques they all intone in a kind of Stockhausen 12-tone cacophony, that, if you’re like me and not used to these things, you might consider annoying. Well, at least that was my attitude up until the morning of December, 21.

December 20 was the day of the Hajj, when the faithful make a pilgrimage to Mecca. From 6pm 12/20 to 6am 12/21, loud recordings of imams and children bombarded the neighborhood. It went on all night causing me all sorts of personal displeasure until I finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning when I woke up and did my morning meditation I was astonished at the depth, bliss and the vibrancy of that meditation. It was then I understood. This was not noise. This was PRAYER!! The atmosphere was permeated and saturated with Shakti, the energy of God.

One of my colleagues is a devout Muslim and told me that there are stories of people who became Muslim simply by hearing the chant and it resonating with their hearts. It reminded me of learning to meditate listening to the chants of Tibetan Monks, a sound which, although it was a little scary, had a majestic compassion that pulled me into a place where I would focus on my breath, still my mind and allow reality to take on a crystalline dimension. My meditation on the day of December 21 was no different.

TRAMADOL

I haven’t blogged for several weeks now. I’ve been busy with classes and getting my mental and emotional health in order when you consider what’s happened over the past year. The REAL good news is that after several false starts I finally committed – at least for today – to stop taking Tramadol, a non-opiate painkiller I kept finding an excuse to take. Why it’s a non-opiate is beyond me because while the pain-killing capacity is very good, it triggered what I like to call the addictive rationalization process which any addict/alcoholic worth their salt knows about all too well. Besides, Wikipedia said “It has been suggested that tramadol could be effective for alleviating symptoms of depression and anxiety…” so that was all I needed to volunteer for my own personal Wikipedia/Tramadol clinical trial. I talked about this with friends and finally a doctor who told me that even though a lot of pharmacies in Indonesia sell it without a prescription; you really need a prescription for it.

Fortunately I kept my intake to around 50 mgs. a day, which may not be called "abuse," but you could definitely call a "habit." Like I said I had quit before only to find an excuse to start up again, but this time I made a point telling all my friends, my support group, my doctor and even my parents what was going on. Getting off of it was relatively easy, although there were a couple of days of pretty intense snarliness when I managed to get into a fight with a cab driver over change and damn near provoked an incident that could have gotten me deported if I wanted to push it far enough. That would have been all I needed. Sent BACK to the US because of a self-righteous expat narcissistic piss rant triggered by tramadol withdrawal. Fortunately, there is a better way to live.

THE YEAR OF THE RAT

So the Chinese New Year is breathing down my milky white Westernized Neck like a mythic rodent eager to pounce on unexpected prey and I sit here in my room, in my bed, recovering from some sort of virus I probably picked up during the recent floods. China has snow and ice. Jakarta has floods that Noah couldn't navigate. Nevertheless, my neighborhood was lucky. Very little, if anything, was underwater. Besides, the sound of the rain on the roof is a pleasure I forgot about long ago. I want to do nothing but sleep when I hear it. Rain is perfect for meditation, reflection and rejuvenation. As long as I'm not swimming in it.

So now we have the Rat on the Horizon. From what I've been able to discover:

"Being born under this sign determines many talents, as well as other characteristics that may not be so commendable. Rats are very lively and need a lot of mental and physical stimulation. They can be calm and perceptive, but sometimes their brains can cause a mental restlessness, tempting them to take on too much, only to discover they are unable to meet their commitments. Rats are blessed with one of the best intellects going. Add to their intelligence a curiosity and a bright imagination, and they seem as sharp as a needle.

The sign of the Rat is the first sign in the cycle giving Rat people exude great leadership qualities and are good at taking the lead. They don't mind a lot of responsibility and they demonstrate a strong presence that other people respect. For those with the Rat nature, status and monetary satisfaction are the greatest motivation."

Sounds like a lot of women I've dated in the past.

The Chinese New Year will be 4705. Knowing me I'll still be writing 4704 on my checks. Maybe if I could just get a stamp of a cute little hissing mouse...

VIDEO FROM UBUD

Video made from still photos and Ravi Shankar's music from my visit to Bali over the holidays. It rained alot, but the last day the sun came out and you could hear George Harrison's voice in the wind singing "Here Comes The Sun/It's Alright..."

HEADING TO BALI

Going to the city of Ubud for Christmas.
With any luck, I'll find Elizabeth Gilbert's Medicine Man.

BLOK M JAKARTA

Sunday Afternoon at Blok M in Jakarta. A very festive place to be. Great energy. See the slideshow at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/37763169@N00/show/

CULTURE SHOCK

I have been battling the standard frustrations someone would inevitably battle in a massive, kick-down-the-door move from Northern/Western Hemisphere Culture to Southern/Eastern Hemisphere Culture: 220 volt outlets, a traffic system that was probably inspired by a mixture of bad opium and feng shui, and – the one that has caused me the most grief so far -- medication readily available in the West that you don't have a prayer of finding over here unless you want to sacrifice half of your monthly salary.

Not that I didn't expect this, but I never knew what form it would take until I got here. Besides, I wasn't about to be stymied, stifled, kyboshed or otherwise frightened into giving up the journey because it might be a little difficult to find my anti-depressant meds over here. After all, I was told that most everything, including chemotherapy, is found over the counter here, right? And it isn't expensive, right?

Well, people like to talk…

I brought a three month supply of Wellbutrin XL that was rapidly running out because I had to increase the dosage to deal with the stress of Culture Shock. I was going to have to bump up the dosage even if I was still living in the States due to my ongoing battle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Of course, over here, there are very little seasonal changes. Sunlight is pretty much 12 hours a day and there are only TWO seasons: rainy and hot" and "dry and hot." But stress can always trigger those feelings of despair, shame, hopelessness and a nagging sense that you have wasted your life. A very contracted, boxed-in space that only gets worse no matter how much time you spend talking with your friends or therapist. I've probably suffered from depression all my life, but it wasn't until I had a couple of years sobriety under my belt (I was 35 at the time) that I began taking Prozac. It made a world of difference. I began writing and was able to hold down a job. I tried going off them for awhile during the summer of '06 and learned, after a major anxiety attack, that it wasn't a good idea. For me, antidepressants are as necessary as insulin for a diabetic.

Anyway I began to investigate how to go about replenishing my Wellbutrin supply when I discovered that you cannot get it here unless you want to pay a small fortune and have it shipped from Singapore. To make a long story short I had to switch to another med, Effexor, which is still expensive, but available nonetheless. This in itself was not a bad idea as it was probably time to switch to another med anyway. I once made the mistake of staying on Zoloft for over ten years. By the time someone convinced me to switch meds; I was thirty pounds overweight and battling suicidal ideation.

I felt pretty good taking Effexor but after about two weeks the chasm of despair began to open like an Indonesian volcanic fissure. The feeling was all too familiar: a hole that would be difficult to pull myself out of; all you want to do is cry and sleep. I was losing my focus at work and being in a foreign country with a language barrier and issues of intimacy magnified twelve-fold I decided to make another trip to the Dr. who advised bumping up the med from 75mg to 110mg.

So far it's worked. However, antidepressants, like any medication, only take you part of the way there. The trick is to find the thought patterns and trigger points so you can handle the Shock, Denial, Bargaining, Depression and eventual Acceptance of living in a foreign county.

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't left Louisville and it was time to do so. Not that Jakarta is my home. Hardly. But as nice a town as Louisville, Kentucky is, it has become for me – on a strictly personal level – a place to leave behind. It has become my past. And it will probably take a while for all of that to sink in.

One day at a time with only the world to gain.

WHAT MY SIX AND SEVEN YEAR OLDS HAVE TAUGHT ME

I teach two classes of English for children. They actually speak a lot better than most adults but it's been quite an educational experience for me as well. So far, I've learned:

1. To be grateful that I have an attention span that lasts longer than 3 seconds.

2. To be grateful I don't have to deal with losing my baby teeth.

3. If you want to control a rowdy noisy bunch give them some crayons and paper. Creativity comes natural and works quicker, and often better, than ritalin.

4. If you want everyone to STOP YELLING at the top of their lungs, start to talk in a whisper. They'll be quiet trying to hear what you have to say.

5. Once you have them in that quiet space, YELL one word at the top of your lungs when they least expect it.

6. The next time you start to talk in a whisper, they'll stop what they're doing and put their fingers in their ears, expecting you to drop the bomb any moment.

7. If you create a powerpoint presentation based on the song “I Know An Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” pretend you're going to tickle one or two of them whenever you get to the picture of the Spider who “wiggles and jiggles and tickles inside her.” Then whenever that picture comes back around watch how fast they pull their book bags from under the chairs to guard their torsos.

8. “Spongbob Squarepants” is really a funny movie!



9. Any Indonesian six or seven year old worth his or her salt knows the Spongebob dialogue – in English–about as well as you knew the Rocky Horror dialogue when you were in college.

Finally, you will learn:

10. That no matter how computer literate you think you are, a third world six or seven year old will ALWAYS have a higher computer I.Q.

JAKARTA MACET: ANOTHER RING OF HELL, PURGATORY OR HUNGRY GHOST BARDO STATE...

The most glaring omnipresent annoyance I have to deal with in Jakarta is the traffic commonly called Macet. More than one journalist has written that the traffic in Jakarta moves about as swiftly as blood through a corpse. I'm sorry, but that's just giving the traffic a little too much credit. This evening when I was having the cab driver take me home, I had him drop me off a little over 2 km from my destination so I could walk the rest of the way. Before that the traffic hadn't moved in over ten minutes with the meter ticking away. The last time I saw the cab driver he was still sitting there waiting for an opening that I didn't think was going to happen anytime soon. Even though this is pretty much a Muslim country I wonder if there isn't some ring of Hell, Purgatory or Bardo State that relates to Jakarta Macet. Just a thought...

MOTHER AND SON

There is a school near where I live that keeps three monkeys (I'm not sure of the species) who appear to be a nuclear family, as pets. I took some photographs a couple of days ago and was awestruck by the love I felt the mother had toward her young son. I've included a picture of the father who was out of frame, but can be seen below.

This school also has several chickens, cats and kittens and while the cats may be feral, the monkeys appear to be very gentle. Whenever I walk past the little guy always wants to jump over to make friends. The adults make a noise similar to cat hissing, however, I don't think its anything malevolent. Still I haven't tried to touch or pet them. One day when I was walking past I noticed the mother grooming the little one's scalp, something monkeys, apes and all species of primates do for those they have afftection for. Another time when I was walking by around 9pm they all three were huddled together sleeping. I'm sure they were warm, but I had the feeling they had a need to feel connected. It was a privilege to witness such a moment.

I've gotten all kinds of grief from people who say these animals should be free and not chained. I'm not sure how to argue that. On the surface, I certainly wouldn't disagree. I would have rather been out in the wild taking these photographs, bet despite the restraints, these animals exude an attitude of gentleness and love I've only seen in infants. I was just happy for the opportunity to take a photograph of such a universal expression of contentment. The way the mother is looking at her child is something I could contemplate for years.

NEW DIGS

I've just moved to another neighborhood of Jakarta. Vastly different from Hashyim Ashyari (my former residence), Anggrek Residence is located in a clean, vibrant Sudirman neighborhood near the World Trade Center and the Australian Embassy. I have a private room with a bathroom that actually includes hot water! I have cable TV, housekeeping, security; all the amenities of a decent hotel. The only thing I miss from my previous residence is a kitchen. What I don't miss is the squat toilet, and a housemate who adamantly refused to flush the toilet whenever he pissed ("if it's yellow let it mellow…").

I've also included some pictures of the Jakarta Skyline taken from a balcony on the floor where I live, the front of the residence at night (at left), and a mosque whose calls to prayer are driving me up a wall. Oh, well, when in Rome…

In other news I've made plans to go to Bali for Christmas in the town of Ubud. Really looking forward to the holidays.

LINDA NAULTY BIO

Linda Naulty (left) and her teacher Laura Spaulding on the occassion of the 90th Birthday of Shri K. Pattabhi Jois in Mysore, India.

Linda Naulty has been studying yoga since 1998 and is a 2001 graduate of the Yoga East Teacher Training program in Louisville, Kentucky. Her studio Full Moon Yoga opened in 2003 in the Crescent Hill Neighborhood in Louisville. This center has come full circle and is now under the ownership of Yoga East.

Linda has also studied Reiki under her teacher, Reiki Master, Helen Klayman. Linda earned her level I Reiki and II degree in 1999. She became a Reiki Master completing level III in 2005. Reiki is a technique for stress reduction and relaxation that was rediscovered in the early 1900’s by Dr. Mikao Usui. Combining Yoga and Reiki has a very calming effect on her students especially during Savasana and Guided Meditations.

Linda has been a student of Laura Spaulding (pictured with Linda above) at Yoga East since 2000 and has also studied with David Swenson, Doug Swenson and has attended workshops with Ramanand Patel, Francois Raoult, Sharath Rangaswamy, and Amanda McMaine.

A native of New Jersey and a graduate of Rowan University, Linda has spent the last 15 years working in the business world, and now lives in the Philippines with her daughter Emily.

While living abroad, Linda has had the honor of studying Ashtanga Yoga in Mysore, India during the summers of 2005 and 2006. She has studied with Saraswati, the daughter of Shri K Pattabhi Jois, Master of Ashtanga Yoga. Linda, along with Laura Spaulding and fellow Yoga East Astanga Students from Louisville, Kentucky, had the distinct honor and privilege of attending the 90th Birthday Celebration of Shri K. Pattabhi Jois.

As a dedicated student of Gurumayi Chidvilasananda, the spiritual head of the Siddha Yoga® Meditation Path, Linda has visited Siddha Yoga ashrams in New York, California and most recently Ganeshpuri, India. When visiting the ashram in Gurudev Siddha Peeth she offered her Seva (selfless-service) in the hatha yoga department and the production department. In 2007, Linda was invited to participate in the Siddha Yoga® Hatha Yoga Stretch Instructors Training which she successfully completed. She takes part in Siddha Yoga Meditation Intensives and other courses with the Siddha Yoga Swamis as well as being very active in the Siddha Yoga Meditation Center in Manila.

While in Manila Linda works with Sister Mary Vincent of the Order of the Good Shepherd Sisters in teaching Yoga to children in the poverty stricken villages of Manila and surrounding areas. She also participates in the Care Well Cancer Center teaching Restorative Yoga to cancer survivors and their families as part of her seva.

She currently teaches Prenatal Yoga and Gentle Yoga classes for Yoga Manila, the premiere Yoga Studio in Manila.

PHILIPPINE VACATION: TAGAYTAY & VOLCANO ISLAND

As I mentioned in my previous post I decided to get out of Jakarta for a few days and visit my friend Linda who currently resides with her daughter in Alabang, a suburb of Muntinlupa City that can best be described as the Beverly Hills of the Philippines. It is a beautiful area that exuded a peacefulness and quiet that I was personally looking for.

A few days into my visit Linda took me to visit Volcano Island near the Taal Volcano and the city of Tagatay located about 50 kilometers north of Manila. It was, for me, an exhilerating experience. First you have to take a boat a few kilometers across Taal Lake and then you are given the option of either hiking (not a good option) up the mountain side to the crater or going by horseback, something neither Linda nor I were prepared to do.

But we did it anyway.

We both had a couple of guides who were about ten years old helping us and who had obviously made this journey before. They both were very good at what they did. At first, I was scared shitless. This was the first time I'd gotten anywhere near a horse since I was kicked by one when I was in high school (the horse had a serious attitude problem but he's probably bitten the big feedbag by now so I'll try not to be bitter).

The picture of me at the beginning of this post was of me in the boat on the way to Volcano Island and the lake inside the crater. Other pictures follow:


Some of the surrounding area.


Linda on horseback.


Two Banditos.


The Guides.


The lake inside Volcano Island Crater. Inside the lake you can see Vulcan Point, which is the world's largest island within a lake on an island within a lake on an island . Say that three times real fast.


Linda in front of the crater.


Paul in front of the crater.


A rainbow at the end of the day.

END OF RAMADAN & LEBARAN

I haven't posted anything for a couple of weeks because I've been extremely busy planning a trip to Manila, Philipppines to visit my friend Linda, whose bio she has asked me to post. This vacation -- one I really needed as I've reached a point in my transition here where a lot of grief and homesickness are coming up -- was a lot of fun. But in the meantime I need to say that it came at came at the end of the season of Ramadan known as Lebaran or Eid ul-Fitr, which is a time to celebrate and vacation.

During Ramadan many Muslims fast from about 4:20am to 6pm. At school, my classes last beyond 6pm, but at 5:55pm we dismissed class for a few minutes so whoever wants to can have some water and a snack. Of course, this is a major selling point for a lot of restaurants as evidenced by the picture to your left. The restaurant is a very cool place called "Hot Planet" and will probably become a favorite of mine because its food isn't spicy and, most likely its safe. (See my previous two entries).

Actually, businesses treat Ramadan pretty much the same way Halloween, Christmas, 4th of July, Labor Day, and any other holiday is treated in the West. There are Ramadan Sales and Lebaran sales galore. But since I could do it and we had a week off from work I decided to get the hell out of Dodge.

TWO WORDS

Bacterial Dysentery.

Thus, the diagnosis of what I've been suffering. Actually, its good news, because now I know what I've got and there's a cure for it.

Unfortunately some people throughout history have not had the good fortune I've had to get through this. Some of these are (according to Wikipedia):

Gautama Buddha, Founder of Buddhism (1500 B.C.)

Epicurus, the Greek philosopher (270 B.C.)

Liu Bei, first emperor of the kingdom Shu Han (223)

King John of England (1216)

King Louis VIII of France (1226)

King Louis IX of France (1270)

King Henry V of England (1422)

Hernando Cortes, Spanish explorer (1547)

Sir Francis Drake (1596)

King James of England, Scotland, and Wales (1625)

Maria Celeste, first daughter of Galileo Galilei (1634)

Nathaniel Bacon (1676)

Vincenzo Bellini, the composer (1835)

Many of the captured soldiers at Andersonville Prison during the American Civil War (1860–5)

Many victims of concentration camps in World War II. Some Allied POWs also fell victim to dysentery while imprisoned by the Japanese Empire, especially those involved in the construction of what has become known as the Death Railway.

Compared to what that august list of historical figures had to endure, I think its safe to say I lead a rather charmed life here South East Asia during the early part of the 21st century.

PARASITIC SLAM DANCE

I heard this might be a problem and indeed it has been, but I thought it would be over by now. I have been stuggling with the eventual parasitic infections that happen to practically all tourists or ex-pats to Indonesia. It is intestinal and demands you find a toilet more than five times over a six hour period. That, by the way, is a conservative figure I just made up based on my personal experience.

Thus far my wobbly intestinal fortitude has ruined a jaunt to Singapore, several weekends and one day at work. I've been living on Sprite, Immodium, Carbon Pills and Mineral Water for days at a time and I'm not happy having to spend quality time squatting on/in the proverbial Indonesian Water Closet. One of my housemates has managed to contract a parasite that has made his life miserable for the past few days so I plan to get a medical diagnosis in a day or two so I can get this under control.

This along with a few other obstabcles explain why I haven't posted any additional items since the earthquake last month. My energy has been too depleted for me to talk about Ramadan, Lebaran, Fasting and the other dimensions of living in a Muslim country this time of year.

If anyone has some Kaopectate they can spare I would appreciate it because I've yet to find any.

EARTHQUAKE

I emerged from one of my afternoon classes last week to hear someone say there had been an earthquake. I hadn't felt anything and I was wondering if they were refering to the quake that shook Jakarta six weeks earlier. That quake was over 7.0 on the Richter Scale but was so far under the surface of the ocean that no fissure opened in the ocean floor and subsequently no damage -- or tsunami -- took place. However, people reportedly ran into the streets screaming "Allah Akbar!!"

This time Jakarta escaped any tremor. If it did happen it was masked by the rumbling of the everpresent traffic. However, the city of Padang, the largest in Western Sumatra, suffered an 8.4 magnitude shock with over 40 aftershocks and dozens of tsunami warnings (none have taken place). I've heard reports that there were four major shocks, three of which measured over 7.0. As I write this the reported loss of life is 17 with 88 injured and over 800 homes destroyed.

Indonesia is in the throes of a very active seismic upheaval, as evidenced by the 2004 tsunami that killed over 200,000 people. There are two very highly stressed and highly determined tectonic plates (Eurasian and Pacific) that meet 125 miles off the west coast of Sumatra, which have been pushing against each other for millions of years. This is all symtomatic of living in the Pacific Rim "Ring of Fire" a horseshoe-shaped line over 25,000 miles (40,000 km) long that stretches from from Chile, northwards along the South American coast through Central America, Mexico, the west coast of the US and the southern part of Alaska, through the Aleutian Islands to Japan, the Philippines and Indonesia before curving back to New Guinea, the southwest Pacific islands and New Zealand. 90 percent of the world's 1500 active volcanoes are in this area and 90 percent of the world's earthquakes occur in the Ring of Fire.

Scientists feel that isn't the "Big One" they expect. That could happen sometime in the next thirty seconds or the next thirty years. Unlike global warming, I don't think there is anything you can do to prevent earthquakes any more than you can prevent a child from growing or an adult from dying of old age. Some people may say that its all a sign from God, that Gaia is pissed off or something like that, but I think its all part of living on this planet. Sometimes shit happens that simply can't be prevented. The only thing you can do is be ready. In the meantime people in the villages of Western Sumatra have resorted to sleeping in graveyards to avoid being crushed in their homes.

JAKARTA

Well, I’ve been in Jakarta for a little over a week now and it’s been quite an education. This is a very impressive and thriving South East Asian City despite the inevitable drawbacks you will find in this part of the world. I'm working for a company out of Cambridge, England called "English First" and really enjoying the experience. As a matter of fact, I was amazed that the stress and anxiety I had been feeling due to the move overseas actually dissipated after my first class. I love the school, the people I work with, the students, and I can't say enough about the welcoming and loving nature of the people who live in this country.

I've also discovered that this country, which is the largest Muslim country in the world, has had a tradition of democracy and equality since their independence from Dutch Colonization in 1942 and Japanese Occupation in 1945. In my last class, which was conversational English with Indonesians ages 14 to 26, I had a terrific discourse with the students about my county and started learning about theirs. Even though I thought it might be a good idea to avoid the topic, the text I was working with encouraged the discussion of "violence being used to political ends" and whether there is anything in life worth dying for. It was interesting for me, being an American to talk about Gandhi, Dr. King, and ahimsa. The word jihad was mentioned but just briefly. I made the point that I understood jihad to mean a revolution within one's soul, as described in the Bhagavad Gita. When the discussion ended everyone felt that the term jihad had been politicized and that violence should never be used to achieve a political means. They were also very adamant that there was nothing they would actually die for. It was a very honest answer and one I have to admire because there is a typical knee jerk intellectual response that pays lip service to dying for a particular cause when you have no idea what the cause is or if it’s in any way worth dying for. Speaking for myself, I think I will only know that answer when the situation arises.

So I have had a very wonderful time of discovery with my classes and I look forward to teaching more, but the living conditions in Jakarta are definitely different from those I was used to in Kentucky. The first and most noticeable was the lack of hot water and how much that really wasn't a problem. As a matter of fact, in this county, it's kind of blessing because it's terribly hot. Besides, I have a theory that the word "Jakarta" means “poster boy for global warming.” There’s so much pollution it's like smoking a pack of Camels just to cross the street. This town produces a LOT of ozone and I'm willing to bet that most of it is caused by the countless motorcycles that crowd the highway like a giant horde of worker ants. The average motorcycle here must produce enough exhaust to choke a moose and enough noise to drown out a jet engine. The cars and the roads are made to travel on the left side in strict Dutch colonial etiquette, but that’s where the formality ends. Frankly, the trauma you can experience on these roads is right up there with most tribal adult rituals that I really don't want to recount here. There are very few traffic lights and, as far as I can tell, no traffic laws to speak of. The only reason you stop is because the traffic has become congested which is when you become a prime target for the Jakarta sales force.

Anything is fair game to sell on the streets or I should say IN the streets. Weaving in and out of the traffic (the marks for the lanes are virtually ignored) are all kinds of fledgling entrepreneurs selling bread, fruit, DVDs, children’s books, silverware, little naked deities you wind up so they can walk across the floor, life jackets, fishing poles, old issues of "Playboy" and "Maxim," water, grape juice or maybe you'll have someone hobbling on a cane who just wants your money.

Contrasting with this all this heat, pollution, and 97 decibel noise is the five times a day Muslim call to prayer. The first two times I heard this I was actually in awe, because it was this spiraling, majestic Qawwali Chant that could stop you dead in your tracks if you were paying attention. I thought, "What a great thing to have in the middle of all this chaos! It's like reminding you that you need to meditate!" However, some of the chanters sound so uninspired that it can actually be banal and annoying. It hasn't awakened me at 5am like it has some of the other teachers, but when it’s performed well it can be magnificent.

I've posted some pictures of one of the multitudes of food kiosks, a couple of the Jakarta Sales Force, the street where I live, the front of the school I work, and a couple of guys smiling for the camera. Right now, we're in the beginnings of the rainy season and I experienced my first thunderstorm last night. I can only imagine the grit it washed from the atmosphere. So ends the first week of my adventure. Stay tuned.

English First Menteng; Near the French Embassy




Food kiosks near the school

Hashyim Ashyari -- Where I live





Jakarta Sales Force



More Jakarta Sales Force

DECONSTRUCTING THE MANDALA

Yeah. I should be so lucky. When Buddhist Monks deconstruct or destroy the mandalas they spend weeks painstakingly and lovingly creating with the precision of a fine painting, there is a certain gentle order to it. The entire project -- the construction, the observance and the deconstruction -- is one long continuous blessing.

In stark contrast, the "deconstuction" of my living space (i.e. my apartment) is more like trying to clear out one of Hunter Thompson's