Merry Christmas from Indonesia

It is Christmas Eve in Indonesia, and I am sitting in my room listening to Christmas music thinking about this holiday.  From my calculations, this will be my fifth Christmas spent aboard; I have spent Christmas in Taiwan, Paraguay, Panama-Costa Rica, and now Indonesia.  I am always intrigued how different cultures celebrate or don't celebrate this holiday.  In the small village of Paraguay that I lived in for two years, Christmas was about spending time with family.  We would get together and eat and drink and be merry.  In the village there were no Christmas trees, no presents, just family and food... oh and fireworks.  Santa did not exist; however, on the day of the Three Kings (aka my birthday) the children received small presents.  I thought it was strange when I went into the capital city that Coca Cola had a huge Santa Sleigh that drove around the city even though most Paraguayans didn't really 'do' the whole Santa thing.  As I was listening to my tape of Christmas music on my Walkman (yah you can do the math and laugh, I was using a Walkman in 2003) washing my clothes by hand in the hot Paraguay sun, I laughed as I listened to White Christmas.  Paraguay celebrates Christmas in the middle of summer, it was 110 degrees Fahrenheit.  Who decided that the birth of Christ should be symbolized by snowflakes and evergreen trees (as my minister friend pointed out, Jesus was born in the Middle East... also not a cold place)?
This year, I wasn't expecting much from Christmas.  I knew I would be spending it in a country that is predominantly Muslim.  However, as I walked around town, I was surprised by how many Christmas Trees, signs wishing people a "Salamat Natal dan Tahun Baru" (Merry Christmas and Happy New Year), and store workers wearing Santa hats.  I even saw fake snowflakes (which always weirds me out since most people here have never even experienced snow in their lives).    In a country that is 88% Muslim and 8% Christian/ Catholic why was there such a 'Christmas' presence?  Although the commercial cultural might accept Christmas, the religious meaning of this holiday was not as universally accepted.   Churches were searched for bombs and police stood watch as Christians tried to celebrate an important day in their religion.  This was definitely a side of Christmas that I had never seen before.  I decided for my protection, that going to church would not be part of my Christmas Celebration this year.  Instead, I would watch Christmas movies and spend Christmas electronically with my family (video conferencing is a great thing).
No matter where you are in the world, or how you choice to celebrate it, I wish everyone a very happy and safe holiday season.  

The PhD Candidate Goes to Kindergarten

When I have been staring at my glowing rectangle (aka computer) writing grants, my mind often drifts to days gone by when school seemed so much easier.  I remember fondly the days when school consisted of coloring, reading picture books, and playing.  The past two weeks of language school has allowed me to go back to those care free days of education when one's hardest task was learning colors, numbers, and how to make simple comparisons of which lady is fatter and which tree is taller. It seems like it should be one of the easiest times in the journey to obtain my PhD.  I should have mastered such things as telling time and reading numbers years ago, therefore I just need to learn the words in a new language. Well, the truth of the matter is that I have forgotten that I was not a good student till about the 5th grade, I really struggled with grades 1-4... and all those things I struggled with are coming back to haunt me.

Spelling, I can't spell in my own language that I have been speaking 'fluently' for 29ish years... how am I supposed to spell in a language that I have been learning for two weeks.  I get really excited when I am one or two letters off (that means spell checker will know what I am talking about) but the language teachers do not see that as acceptable.

Telling time, I have decided long ago that a digital watch is the best method for telling time.  It is quick, it is exact, and it has Indiglo.  However, my language teachers insist that I practice my telling time words on a real clock.  "Wait a second, which one is the hour hand and which one is the minute hand... and each number is worth how many minutes."  To add insult to injury, they tell time here by saying 27 minutes till whatever o'clock, so I had to remember my simple subtraction skills also.

Left and right, I never learned my left from my right.  I blame it on having pneumonia for a few weeks during kindergarten. We had multiple lessons where I had to use this skill...which person is standing to the right of Dewi, do you turn left or right if you want to go to the post office, and is the bank located to the left of the police station.  I really struggled with those days.  It was a constant, left,  I mean right, I mean hmm, can I just say North?  

I tried to explain to the teachers that it is not the language that is hard for me, it is the basic life skills that I some how missed mastering when I was younger.  They don't get it and assign me piles of worksheets to do for homework, which I need to write neatly (another skill I did not master).  It is a strange predicament indeed to go from planning research that has never been done before to having to answer, "The color of my shirt is blue." "Your pencil is not red."  Given the choice, I think I would prefer to go back to reading journal articles and writing grants.

Sampai nanti Bandung

As the hot lava and ash of Volcano Merapi return to mere magma underneath the earth's crust, I too return to Yogyakarta to resume language school (and in return, I mean arrive for the first time).  That means a fine farewell to the city of Bandung, the place I called home for a mere two weeks.  I figured a photo montage would be the perfect way to say goodbye to Bandung.

Goodbye outlet malls with funny English names. 

Goodbye indoor waterfall in guest house. 

Goodbye traffic jams.        

Goodbye Institute Technology of Bandung

Goodbye parking lots full of mopeds.   

Goodbye to randomness that can not be properly captured on film.  

I am a monkey

I am currently working on learning my fifth language.  One would think that I would be a master of learning languages by now; however, I am constantly amazed at how long it takes to learn a language.  Although I have been in Indonesia for a month now, I have only had five days of language school (permits, volcanoes and animal sacrifice holidays delayed my formal language training).  While I was not in language school, I have been trying to teach myself a few things about the language.  Since people often want to know why I am in Indonesia, I figured I should teach myself how to talk about my research. In Bahasa Indonesian, there is only one word for my, mine, and I, the word saya.  I figured that I could just replace any of those words for saya and it would work.  Therefore, if I wanted to describe the species I studied, I would say, "Saya monyet bekantan".  I thought I was saying, "my monkey is a proboscis monkey".  Well, yesterday, I found out that to say "my", you need to put saya after the noun, not before.  Therefore, when I thought I was saying, "my monkey", I was really saying, "I am a monkey".  Now, I am not going to deny that I am a primate, but I am pretty sure that I am not a monkey...the last time I checked, I didn't have a tail.  Oh, did  I make my language teachers laugh.  Little did they know that I am been calling myself a monkey, a house, a book, a motorcycle, and luggage for a month now.  I understand why so many Indonesians give me such strange looks.  They must have thought I was really confused or having a very bad existential crisis.  As I continue my formal language, I am excited to learn how many other things I have been saying incorrectly for the past month.

The search for java in Java

As an avid coffee drinker, I was super excited to move to Indonesia, as it could be considered the Mecca for coffee drinkers.  Just think about it, the slang word for coffee, java, is the same name as the main island in Indonesia, Java... a coincidence, I don't think so.  Wikipedia just told me that Indonesia is the fourth largest coffee producer in the world.  Besides the whole Java thing, I love Sumatran coffee.  As we have learned from Sophia's trivia, Sumatra is one of the main islands in Indonesia.  There has to be amazing coffee in this country.  When I took my first sip of coffee in Indonesia,  it was amazing.  I thought to myself, "I am home".   However, the next day, the coffee was watered down and never met my expectations.  I have set out for the perfect cup of coffee, and a month has past, and I have yet to find another amazing cup of coffee.  Usually, when I ask for coffee, I will see them open up the little package of instant coffee and just add hot water.  Really!?!?! Instant coffee on the island of Java, this can't be happening.  I decided that maybe I just needed to go to the supermarket.  I found the aisle of coffee and it was big, real big, this must have the delicious coffee I have been craving.  I start searching...instant coffee, instant coffee with cream, instant coffee with sugar, even premixed 3 in 1, instant coffee with sugar and cream, but no coffee beans.  Where are the whole beans?  I saw the coffee plants covering the mountainsides as I took the train from Jakarta to Bandung...it has to be here someplace.  Where are you, oh delicious coffee beans?  You must be here somewhere.  My search had gone on long enough, it was time to ask for outside help.  I asked my language teachers and they said oh we export all our beans and just drink instant here.  My heart broke just a little bit.  I will not find the perfect cup of java on the island of Java... it is all in the US.  I have changed my quest and am now searching for my favorite instant type of coffee, I will let you know when I find it.  

Three Americans Take the Train to Bandung

The title of this blog sounds like the beginning of a great joke, I am not sure what the punch line is, but all I know is that we were laughing a lot at the end of the trip.  Let me start from the beginning, Fulbright decided that the evacuees from Yogyakarta should go to Bandung, and they should take the train to get there.  Therefore, 3 Americans and all their stuff (5 backpacks, 3 suitcases, 1 Pelican case, 1 Timbuk2 bag, and 1 fanny pack) board the train.  Now, to make a long story short, we had a lot of stuff that we had to fit in a very small space.  We pushed and we shoved and we shimmied till all of our stuff was properly packed away (mostly between our chair and the chair in front of us).  Four hours later, we arrived in Bandung.  We started to get our stuff out of its hiding places, we pulled, and we yanked, and we caught 60 lb falling suitcases.  American number one takes her one suitcase and successfully gets off the train.  American number two has a suitcase that is wider than the aisle, so therefore can't roll it.  She wrestles with suitcase one while, leaves suitcase two in the aisle.  American number three (me) dressed as a turtle, decides that she is is going to help and starts pulling the next suitcase (with all her luggage on her back...see blog "Life as a Turtle" for full description).  I first get stuck at the turn to get off the train... I shimmy some and get unstuck.  Then I start going toward the exit, and the train starts moving.  I know I can jump out of a moving train, but I am looking at the ground and thinking of the extra 115lbs of luggage on me (not to mention the 65lbs of luggage I am pulling), and think, if I jump, my ankle is going to shatter.  American one and two are yelling at me to get off the train, but besides contemplating the broken ankle, I am also literally stuck.  I throw my pelican case to American one, and gather all my force and charge... free myself, jump off the moving train, and even save the suitcase.  No broken ankles, all luggage saved, and one American with a bad case of the giggle goose (I could not stop laughing).  As I am thinking about my great death defying leap... the train of course stops moving and just sits there.  I could have just waited 5 minute and would have been fine.

If you came to visit...

The Asian Section of the food Court

I would take you to the mall.  Don't worry, it would not be the only place I would take you, it goes without saying that I would show you the coolest monkeys ever, but the mall would be a stop that we would need to make.  There are many reasons why I make this statement.  First, mall life is such a part of the Jakarta culture.  It is what people do here... they go to the mall.  Secondly, I spent the entire afternoon at the mall in complete awe... hence I want to share it with other people.  There are many things spectacular about the malls here. They have all the designers, Gucci, Armani, Mark Jacobs... the list goes on and on.  I have never seen these stores before yet they are in the Indonesian Malls.  Secondly, they are designed in a way that is unbelievable.  At the mall I was at yesterday, each food type area had its own decoration, the Japanese cuisine had bamboo and cherry trees, the French Cuisine area was done in the motif of Baroque architecture, the American area was set up like Central Park.  I had such a good time just walking through the different areas.  It was amazing.  Thirdly, the malls are such a strong contrast to a lot of the rest of Jakarta.  They are always the same cool temperature compared to the hot humid air outside, they are clean compared to the pollution and litter, they are quiet compared to the noises of traffic and people calling to you for a taxi...they are just so different.  It is the ying and the yang of Jakarta culture... and something I think everyone who comes to Indonesia should experience.  

The transition from the American to Chinese Section.

Life as a Turtle

Life as a turtle must be very liberating but also very difficult.  Imagine having your house on your back.  No matter where you go, you have everything you need; however, that means you also need to carry everything you have everyplace you go.  I had a glimpse of what it must feel like being a turtle this week.  I arrived from Pontianak to Jakarta on Wednesday night.  I had left 48 kilos (about my body weight) of gear in Pontianak (that is a different story)... but in Jakarta I was reunited with the items I have decided that I need for the next two months (plus things that are of too much value to leave somewhere).  I imagined that it would be a quick trip into Jakarta to obtain my permit to enter national parks, so I only booked two nights in a hotel.  Well, between my permits not being ready and the evacuation of my next location, I was stuck in Jakarta.  I went looking for a new hotel, and was drawn to the sign that said "24 Hour Pancakes" and realized this must be the hotel for me.  Advice... do not pick a hotel because it might have 24 hour pancakes (by the way, they didn't even serve pancakes at breakfast).  I blew the power in the hotel and just didn't feel like it was a good place (plus it cost $50 a night).  If I was going to stay at a sub-par hotel, I wanted to pay sub-par prices (remember, none of my grants have gone through yet, so my bank accounts are pretty much empty at this point).  Therefore, I walked down the street and found a hotel for $26 a night.  It was what you would expect for $26, a bit dirty, a bit loud, a bit shady.  However, the next day, I was trying to figure out where my friend was staying (the motorcycle driver took me to the wrong hotel the night before), and I realized I could stay at a nice hotel for only $27 dollar a night.  Sold. I moved again.  Now 4 hotels in 5 days might not seem that bad; however, when you have to carry all your stuff around (hotel 2 made me walk the 4 blocks to the next hotel- a many of the hotels do not have elevators or carts) it gets to be a bit much.  Since I do not have a picture of my turtle life, let me try to explain 'my house'.  I have my 70 liter backpack stuffed to the gills on my back (it probably weighs 65 lbs), then I have my 36 liter backpack on my belly (it weighs 40 lbs), I have my Timbuk2 bag over my shoulder (I try to make that one light) and then have my big Pelican briefcase in my hand (35lbs).  Now, I can walk with all this stuff, but it is very very difficult.  I laughed when someone asked me if I wanted to take a motorcycle with my stuff.  I now understand why turtles move so slowly, one must have very slow and calculated movements with that much weight on your back.  I just got word that I will be moving again on Thursday to Bandung.  Hopefully, I will be staying in one place for a bit (I am suppose to finally start language school).  I will be happy when I am no longer a turtle for awhile.

Everything happens for a reason

I generally think there is a greater plan.  I can't really articulate it, but it is something I believe in.  In some ways it is a defense mechanism... a reason for all the bad things.  However, I generally feel that something or someone is looking out for me.  I was feeling very frustrated yesterday when I called the Department of Forestry Department to ask about my permit to enter conservation areas.  They stated that it might take another week to process it.  Another week of waiting for permits means another week in Jakarta, another week of living out of hotels, another week of delaying my language school,  and another week of delaying my research.  I was just in the processes of transferring hotels again (I kinda blew the power in the last one and wanted to get out of there before they figured out it was me... shhhh don't tell anyone), when I got a text message from the Fulbrighter that flew in with me.  She is stationed in the town Yogyakarta (the location of my language school).  Fulbright was evacuated from Yogyakarta due to the violent eruptions of Mount Merapi.  Everyone is okay... but if I would have had my permits, I would have had to be evacuated also.  I guess everything does happen for a reason.  Now if only the thing that watches out for me could find me a clean, nice, safe place to stay for a good price... okay, I will stop being picky and just be happy that I am safe. 

Photo Time!!!

Jakarta.  Notice the contrast between the big shinny buildings and the rest of the buildings.  Also, can you notice the smog?

Pontianak

Walking in the rain.

The knife shop.  I told the guy I wanted a machete... he told me I could buy two and put them on my wall. I told him I wanted one that could cut trees, I don't think he understood that I wanted to actually use my machete.

Kopi

This is the vessel that holds the delicious coffee.  

Indonesian Barista

Market

Corn anyone?

So many different transportation options.

Indonesians like it hot, in more ways than one.  

I kept thinking that I was walking through feces... it turned out to just be the smell of durian.  There is a reason why you can't eat this fruit it some hotels.  

Makanan

Makanan might have been one of the first words that I learned in Indonesia.. It means food.   As I study primates' responses to food availability, I think it is important to discuss my feeding practices in Indonesia.
One of the quintessential food items in Indonesia is "Nasi goreng".  It was the first thing I ever ate in Indonesia because Jeff and ChiChi, from "Learning Indonesian Podcasts", taught me how to order it in lesson 4.  Therefore, I went to a street vendor and kept asking for nasi goreng till someone gave me some fried rice.  It would be hard to classify it as a fallback or a preferred food because often it is the only thing on the menu/ or on the street cart that I know I can eat (fallback food), but I often go on expeditions to try to find it (preferred food).  Maybe I can't classify my foods, until I know some more language words (since language is dictating my foraging behavior).  Either way. I eat a lot of fried rice.  When I want to be wild, I get Mie Goreng rather than Nasi Goreng (fried noodles)- but that is harder to find.
 One of the important things to mention is where I am getting most of my foods.  Along every street are little food carts that sell an item or two. The price can't be beat,  I usually get lunch or dinner for under a dollar.  There are tons and tons of fried chicken carts... I just  walk right past those, but every once in awhile, I will find a Gado Gado cart.  Those are good days (they have very low densities).  Gado Gado is currently my favorite food item in Indonesia, it literally means mix mix.  It has a whole bunch of veggies with a peanut sauce. Yum Yum.
As for other things I eat.  Well, I have branched out of my cart eating, and stop at these little 'restaurants' for fine food.  Restaurants are not the proper word, they are permanent structures that have maybe a table and a couple of chairs.  They have a front window that has stacks of food, and you pick what you want, kinda like a buffet.  If you want it to go, they wrap up the food in a big banana leaf, if not they just put it on a plate.. how unoriginal.  I have expanded my diet when I eat at these restaurants.  I will usually get a fried egg, some tempeh with chilies and sweetness, white rice, and some veggies (usually sprouts or green beans).  I then cover it all with sweet soy sauce.  
As for the locals, what do they really eat.  Well, I was talking to my permit guy and he said, "for breakfast, we have rice, for lunch, we have rice, for dinner, we have rice."
I have some picture for you guys, but I left my cable in Jakarta, so I can't download them.

The lies I tell my village.

Many of you probably do not know this, but I have two books written in my head.  I hope to someday get them down on paper and use my book sales to supplement my research costs, but until then, I will just keep writing away in my little brain (I just wish my brain had a better backup).  The first book is entitled, "Mom, I shouldn't tell you this, but..."  It is a book about all my adventures abroad that my mom really doesn't want to know, but I tell her anyways (snakes, scary men, etc) .  My second book is entitled "The Lies I Tell My Village."  This book is still a work in process and I haven't quite decided the form it will take.  Basically, the idea is that both intentionality and unintentionally, I start telling a web of lies, until I don't even know the person I am.  It starts out simply, I don't know a word for something, so I use a different word (for example, I can't remember the number 9, so I tell everyone I am 30... really not a big deal, since I am quickly approaching 30)... and then there are things that I just don't want other people to know..."You have a handyphone (in America you call them cellphone), can I have your number?"  "Oh, I am sorry, this phone only works with numbers from the United States."  "Where are you staying?"  "I am staying at a friend's house, but I am leaving here first thing in the morning."  But after awhile (or not that long), the lies get bigger and better, till I almost forget reality.  Today I told someone I have a husband in the States.  I sat there thinking in my head what does my husband do? and what should his name be? and why isn't he here?  I almost invented a couple of children so that I would have something else to talk about.  I decided against it so I would not be judged as a bad mother for leaving my children motherless in America.  (By the way, I am taking suggestions on the story of my husband...if anyone has any good ideas.)  I justify all my lies as a way of protecting myself, but after awhile, when are the lies a protection of me and when am I just a lier.  For someone whose identity is in some ways worn on my sleeve (I can not hide the fact that I am not Indonesian), and represents so many things bigger than herself,  "I am an American, I am a Fulbrighter, I am a Borener, I am a scientist, I am a foreigner", what does it mean when I express my own identity as a falsehood?

Where in the world is Katie San Diego?

I will give you a few clues.  She is on the 3rd largest island in the world (if you don't count Australia...which I don't, it is a continent, hence it forgoes its island status). She is on the equator. She is not in the forest.  For a non geographical clue, she is running back and forth between offices.  If you guessed Pontianak, West Kalimantan, Indonesia, you are correct!  If you didn't, well you better brush up on your Indonesian geography by reading this blog.

I have attached a map to help you understand where I have been and where I am going.  I need to work on my editing skills, so places of interest are circled by yellow.

Places of Interest

1. Jakarta: Capital of Indonesia, Island: Java.  I fly into Jakarta.  It is where I start my permit process.  I was there for 4 days, and will return for a few more days sometime next week.  Highlights of Jakarta, lots of traffic, lots of juxtapositions (really nice sky scrapers next to shanty towns, big hummers next to bicycle carts,  etc), and fancy malls.   

2. Pontianak: Capital of West Kalimantan, Island: Borneo. (where I am right now).  Before I describe Pontianak, I want to clarify something.  If people ask where I work, I might say, Borneo, Indonesia, or Kalimantan.  They all mean slightly different things.  Borneo is the name of the island, it actually is made up of three countries: Indonesia, Malaysia, and Brunei.  Indonesia is the country, and Kalimantan is the Indonesian part of Borneo.  To make it more complicated, West Kalimantan is the province, which is kinda like a US state.  

Fun facts about Pontianak.  Well, it is located on the equator, which is pretty cool.  Also, it has so much traffic... but I can't figure out why.  It took me 30 minutes to cross the street, and even then it was a game of Frogger.  Also it is home to University Tanjungpura, the university that I work with.  

3. Yogyakarta: Capital of Yogyakarta, Island: Java.  So I was going to say that I do not know much about Yogyakarta, except that I will be going to language school there... and  that is all I will know until I get there because my Indonesian Guidebook was left in the San Fran Airport, but then I remembered this fun thing called Wikipedia.  According to Wikipedia, it has over 100 Universities, and is a cultural center.  Sounds like a fun place.

4.  Circle with no names: Ketapang, Sungai Tolak and Batubarat: Capital of Bekantan Land, Island: Borneo.  This circle is the location of my sites.  It is where I will actually be studying monkeys.

So just to clarify, I was in Jakarta, I am currently in Pontianak, I will fly back to Jakarta for a few days, then fly to Yogyakarta for a month and some change, fly back to Poontianak, take the boat to Ketapang, and go find some monkeys.   

Just in case you follow World News... I am safe

I turned on CNN yesterday when I couldn't sleep.  In a 2 minute period, they talked about the earthquake in Sumatra (and the tsunami warning), the volcano that is about to erupt on Java, and the ferry that sank near the island of Flores.  Just in case you did not realize from reading this blog, I am still safe.  I did not feel the earth quake, I am currently not near the volcano, and was not traveling on the boat.  The only disaster that I was close to was the flooding in Jakarta due to a rainstorm.  I even missed that, because I have a 5th floor hotel room, and slept through the storm.  A reminder to all the worriers out there.  Indonesia is a large country made up of 17,000 islands.  I spend the majority of my time on the West side of Borneo that has no volcanoes, no earthquakes, and doesn't experience Tsunamis. Also, I have brought enough stuff to deal with all emergencies, life jacket- check, motorcycle helmet- check, water purifier - check, machete- check, anti volcano suit- check, okay that last one is not true, but if worse came to worse, I could maybe fit in my pelican case and I would be safe.

Jetlag

Indonesia is 12 hours ahead of Central Standard Time and 10 hours ahead of Pacific Time. This is a significant time adjustment. As my computer (which is still set to California time) tells me it is 2:15pm on Monday afternoon, my watch is telling me that 4:15 am on Tuesday morning. If my electronic equipment can’t keep straight of what time it is (yet what day); how is my body? Right now, my prime awake time is from about 1am to 6 am. I am getting a lot of work doneat that time. Today though, I am going to try to stay up until at least 7 pm, and see what happens..... update, I stayed up till 7, but I am still up at 1am. Maybe next week I can sleep on a normal schedule.   

Disclaimer

I am currently reading Barbara Kingsolver’s “The Lacuna”. In the book, the main character is working for Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, when Kahlo and Rivera take in Leon Trotsky (the hottest Russian Revolutionary). The main character is allowed to keep a historical log of the events that occur during the visit of Trotsky, however, he is “to harbor no opinions, confessions, or fictions.” Throughout the log, he often states things that are somewhat opinionated, and then make a statement that this is a mere observation, and therefore a fact. Much like the main character in the book, I will try to make this blog about facts… and try not to opinionated or fictionalize my recordings. However, if an opinion does present itself, I would like you to know that…this is not an official State Department website. The views and information presented are of my own and do not represent the Fulbright Program, the Boren Program, or the State Department.   

Stuff, oh the stuff!

I often pride myself on the efficiency of my travel.  I have developed a very specific routine to go through airport security, which includes, among other things, proper dress to minimize the removal of metal, and selection of bags for ease of removing computers, etc.  There are other things I do, to make sure I travel efficiently.  Today, I was the least efficient traveler ever.  I was ashamed at my skills... and probably had the bulls eye of a novice traveler.  What caused this change?  Stuff, way too much stuff.  I have over 200lbs of stuff that I am bringing with me.  This amazes me since I only brought one large backpack when I moved to Costa Rica for one year, and only 100 lbs of stuff when  I moved to Paraguay for 27 months.  I often look at people like me today, and wonder, where are they going?, and why could they possibly need that much stuff?.  Well, I still do not know how I ended up with 200lbs of stuff.  This is why I was extremely shocked when the lady told me that I had one bag that was 69 lbs, and one bag that was 63, and another that was 43....that will be $800 please.    Wait a minute, I can lift these bags, that means they are under 50lbs, your scales must be wrong.... or maybe I have just gotten a lot stronger.  I have to give a giant shout out to Amy and Stephanie for helping me dig through and move all my stuff at the San Fran Airport, so I could lower my extra baggage costs (also shout out to Owen for helping me back all this stuff till 2:00, and dealing with the little nervous breakdowns of dealing with all my stuff).
So you might think, how do you get over 200lbs of luggage?  Well I am blaming the Pelican Cases.  Pelican Cases are a necessary evil of field work, they keep all your important gear from the dangers of humidity, rivers, the occasional elephant stampede, and/ or truck that runs over your stuff.  They are large and heavy and bulky, but boy do they work.  I know right now I am cursing bring 3 pelican cases, but I know that I will be happy to have them when my stuff goes swimming in the river.  The other things that are on a 'field biologists' packing list include: boots (I destroy boots, so I brought 3 pair), tents, botanical plot measuring devices (including the worlds largest tape measure), rain gauges, thermometers, Rite in the Rain notebooks, flagging tape, life jacket, motorcycle helmet, field clothes, office clothes, snacks, and books lots and lots of books.  I guess all that stuff adds up quickly.  So the next time you see someone struggling with too much stuff at the airport, rather than a poor packer or an inexperienced traveler, maybe they are going on some crazy adventure that needs a lot of gear.  Lets just hope that everything makes it safely to Jakarta. 

Welcome to the land of Bekantan

Welcome to all,
This is the spot where I will track my adventures of studying proboscis monkeys in Borneo. 
First off, you might ask, what is up with this work bekantan?  Thanks for asking, for those of you that do not know, bekantan is the Indonesian word for proboscis monkey (that is Nasalis larvatus, for the science nerds).  I will be studying the proboscis monkeys for the next chunk of my life.  I will be studying how they respond to changes in their environment, both natural and manmade.. but more on that later. 
Warning to all blog followers: For those of you that know me well, I write in Katie-ese.  I will often use the wrong words or forget to use common grammer.  Please forgive me, as many times as I will read this over, I am sure I will make mistakes... I have a hard time translating Katie-ese back to English.  I can only imagine this getting worse as I start speaking in only Bahasa Indonesia and monkey (honk honk).