Shroom With a View

Travel often works as a reset button for our hectic, daily, monotonous routine. We all fall into patterns in life to keep things simpler, to “help” us with the supposed tasks of daily living. The mantra is well known – get up, go to work, eat, exercise, brush teeth, pay bills, repeat. We replay this mantra so often that we begin to believe that it represents life itself, and this is when we are in most need of a system reboot. This is not life. Life is each of ours to explore and define – to create each new day. We cannot do this if we think we are living when we really are just surviving. Our last trip was a visit to the Gili islands off the northwest corner of Lombok. These islands have changed much in the last 20 years, as has much of the world as it tries to accommodate 8 billion of us. But none the less, these islands remain ethereal, magical, floating between dimensions – the perfect place to go for a reset.

There are no cars, no motorized vehicles actually, only cidomos, the local famous local horse carts. When you step off the boat from the mainland, you are hit by the quiet. The fresh air envelopes you, and begins to erase your thoughts. You can walk around the island in a few hours –so there is nowhere to go. Sitting in your hammock, the island reminds you that life is not about doing, but rather about being present, and slowly the waves and gentle island breezes begin to strip away the layers of your daily mantra. Night after night of mind-boggling sunsets, the kind that look like your dreams, with oily purple water, midnight blue clouds, and fire in the sky. Don’t worry that this all takes place over the backdrop of verdant green hills, and pyramidal volcanic cones, just keep pinching yourself to understand that this is not a dream, but a very palpable reality. Our routine mantra is so anemic, so lifeless compared to this – yes, the perfect place to reset.

In the day, you can swim, watch the sun blister the white sand, and continue to let the island breeze massage your soul. Eventually, you may not even remember if you indulged in the islands famous ”shrooms”, because the nature of the place is so potent, it will make you forget your mantra anyway. Yet, if you spend enough time here,(anything over 4 days), you won’t even require any extra help, as the island air, water, and magic, irresistibly give you a new lease on life. In fact, only after a few Gili sunsets, you may find it increasingly difficult to leave …

The Grass Is Always Greener

When I step off the plane in a country like Indonesia, I look around, and feel a sort of bucolic/tropical/peaceful daydream come over me. The heavy equatorial air is almost succulent, and as it washes over your brain you start to slow down and dream of ripe mangoes, so orange that you don’t need a PhD to know that there is vitamin A there. I think of my busy life in the US, and watch the locals amble down the rice paddies, heading to the temple, or a soccer game, or who knows where. I see a man sleeping on his rice field palapala, in his straw hat, and think: wow, this guy has it figured out - a peaceful life, working in the beautiful green rice fields, taking naps, eating healthy local food, no television, no electricity, just the man and the land. Even if he is not making much money, and it is hard, back breaking work (thoughts which I may or may not have let into my daydream), I still think, wow - I have to figure out how to move here - find a nice simple house, buy local food, and slow down the pace of my life.



Yet over time, I begin to wonder - or project 3 months into the future...picture myself sitting in my new house….I cant speak the local dialect, I have no work, I don’t know anyone, and I am not in my culture, I wasn’t raised here, I don’t know the traditions, I have to leave the country every 30 days just to get my visa renewed...and so on.




Then consider the other side.... This farmer looks at me and says wow - this guy has it
dialed right. He's here on vacation, his dollar is worth 10,000 times more than mine, and he is eating at restaurants where his average bill is my months salary, buying luxury foods not even from this country, and then still is enjoying Bintang's and clove cigarettes whenever he likes. I want to go to America and make that kind of money. I don’t care if I have to sit in a cubicle all day in air-con (hey free-aircon) and stare my life away into a computer, I will even get paid to sit down! I can live in a nice condo, with a refrigerator, microwave and electric coffee maker and stove, and drive on the freeway to work everyday.



As we daydream more, we can even go a step further and convince ourselves that the simple, hermetic life is more "enlightened" - and that is very green grass. Escape the day to day, and sit in a field and meditate while we pick rice. Yet when we get there, and it is hot, and there are flies, and snakes, and we earn 2000 rupiah/day, we may forget our mission of enlightenment, and focus on how hard the work is, and how hot the sun is, and how we wish we were back in the air-con, going to the pub with office mates for happy hour. Should I move back? Did I make a mistake? And the farmer finds himself locked into a job of misery doing data entry, having to work overtime to make the rent payments, eating 99cent hot dog deals because its all the food he can afford, and dreading the 75mph traffic on the freeway - dreaming of his rice paddy, fresh food, and wondering why he left to pursue the American dream and the almighty dollar, and how rich he is now that he has that lifestyle.

And on and on it goes, the hamster wheel of life, running and running and running away, looking for the holy grail, the mystery – but stop, slow down, recognize that it is all around us, all the time, no matter where we go, what we do, what we drive, what we eat. As we drop the concern for these details of life, and start realizing why we are living, we may enjoy every moment that we have. Share this with our fellow humans, help each other, become aware of what we are doing and being. Let the grass be greener, because after running around the wheel a few too many times, we will start to see that the grass over there is really the same grass over here, just seen from a different perspective, but, REALLY THE SAME.

Why do we always want what we do not have? The grass is always greener, even when we haven’t even the faintest idea about what the other side even feels like or looks like. We live in America, but want to live on a tropical island. We live in Philippines, and want to eat Pizza Hut, and commute to work on a “freeway”. It is one of the great human challenges- to be happy where we are, focus on our living - instead of our living arrangements. It is far to easy to spend away an entire life looking for that perfect spot, or job, or car, or house, or trying to figure out how to transplant your life into a foreign culture, a far away land, or an escape. These details just are not what we are to worry about. After all, what is perfect anyway, and does it really matter if you have wood floors or concrete, or a thatch roof versus steel? Focusing on these details removes us from the real work of life, and takes us out of the moment. We are forever lost in
a world of illusion, wondering how we can make it better, get what that person has. The grass is always greener speaks to the fact that we are trying to escape the difficult work of life. Not the manual labor, but the actually owning up to what we are here for, and how we can help ourselves and others live better and feel loved. If we wake up, and feel good about what we were born with, or even where we have ended up, then we can forget the detail, and focus on the work at hand - living. Smell the flowers, enjoy the view, smile at people, and be compassionate. Then we may see that the grass is always green here and now, and always good - and that feels very free, very light, and very alive.

It's All Over But The Krayan

Uuuuuuuuaaaaaaaahhhhhhheeeeeee
Uuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeee
Uuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The jungle pulsates to the sound of millions of five-inch long cicadas, satiny black, with fire orange wing stripes. The air is moist and pleasantly fresh, 16,000 square kilometers of breathing trees, some of the newest oxygen on the planet. Everything is green - the ground, the sky, the canopy, so much biomass. Once your ears are attuned to the frequency of the jungle, the intervening silence is unbelievable. We are standing maybe 50 kilometers from the Malaysian-Indonesian border, a place known as the “heart” of Borneo.

Maybe 200 kilometers as the MAF prop plane flies from Tarakan, it might as well be 2000 kilometers. We landed on a grass football field carved out of “virgin” rainforest after about an hour flight over a carpet of trees, undulating like oversized broccoli. The silence was deafening. Welcome to Long Layu, administrative headquarters of the Krayan. Since the mid 70’s, Krayan Dayaks have moved villages out of the jungle and built around these missionary airstrips, their only viable connection to the outside world. Long Layu is home to maybe one thousand Dayak, living in stilt houses around their rice fields, the Sunghai Kuyur and the airstrip. The people are self-sufficient, they have to be. They grow excellent organic rice in reds, blacks and whites. They fish and hunt from the surrounding jungles, and they grow fruits and vegetables like cassava and banana. The life is simple and very much in tune with the surrounding nature. The villages function as a unit, and we get a glimpse into how humans can live together in harmony.



As I sit on the front porch of my home stay, I marvel at the passage of time here. Schedules are set on the activities of the day and with the light of the sun. There is mealtime and work time. There is rainy season and dry season. There are fruit and honey seasons. You commute on the river or through walking to the jungle or fields. Days and weeks flow by. No one needs a timepiece. It’s the kind of tranquility that seeps into your soul.


The cicadas are interrupted occasionally by the hum of the plane. Everyone can hear it coming from minutes away, and most of the village turns out to watch the bouncy landing. Boxes of sugar and coffee, noodles and rice are offloaded, and other goods and people get on. The plane is out of sight and sound in ten minutes more, and once again the aura of the jungle settles over the village. You can hear your heartbeat, and then the insects rev up again, and you try to adjust your own frequency.


Beyond the borders of the village lie acres of jungle, laced with hunting and commuter trails to neighboring villages. We hiked south from Long Layu, in a loop to Long Rungan, and Binawang, staying in the villages overnight. The locals were great hosts, and with the help of our guide Phillip from Long Layu, we entertained conversations on world politics, philosophy, and just the common plight of humans in general. The cool evenings would begin with a bowl of rice and jungle fern, or palm heart, and maybe some cassava leaves. Then we would drink coffee and eat cassava or rice krupuk and get deep into conversation. Before bed, I would gaze at the canopy of stars, so brilliant in this light free zone of the world.


The most lush and energetic jungle surrounded the Batu Sichen, Honey Rock. This is a forty-meter high limestone outcrop, where the locals gather honey in season. The beauty and energy of this place cannot be put into words, but if you want to know if the Earth is alive, you can know it here.




We went in search of the last remaining vast tracts of rainforest in Indonesia and found it alive and pulsating in the hinterlands of the Krayan Hulu. If you want to see virgin rainforest with massive trees, go here. If you want to meet people untainted by societies present pollution, go here. If you want to see hornbills as you drift down a jungle river, go here. If you want time to stop, go here. If you want a glimpse into the meaning of life, go here.

Lose Yourself

Did you ever notice how travelling is an expansive process? How many times have you heard: “A whole world of possibilities, “Find yourself”, even, “Lose yourself”. Travel provides new experiences and new opportunities to do things you normally don’t, see things you normally don’t, eat things you normally don’t, maybe that’s why its called a “foreign” experience. All of this novelty leads to an evolving, expansive, creative, space; and all of that room feels very big and lets you grow, relax, find yourself, and lose yourself. This is the cycle; new to old and old to new that is mirrored in all things.

Consider this – I recently returned from a sojourn to East Kalimantan. I didn’t know why I was going except to try and visit some of the last “virgin” Rainforest left in Indonesia. Naturally I had a little planning to do since this was not an area I could just walk out of the airport and jump a taxi to arrive. This is the part of travel where the expansion begins. I had this kernel of an idea, a thought for a trip, and suddenly I am on the playing field of the imagination, because it is all new to me. The opportunities become endless once you begin to look. This can be overwhelming and stressful because you realize you can’t control all of the variables no matter how much you invest. You might miss the MAF missionary fight into the jungle because they only fly on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There might not even be a flight because they are out of fuel, or the plane may be grounded due to towering rainy season thunderheads. And these are just the things that cross your mind. What about all the other options that you don’t even think of because you are not even aware of them as possibilities. That is travel expanding. The relaxing part comes when you realize that you have no control, and you just start to go with the flow. That is also travel expanding, and the completion of the cycle, new to old to new again that your body and mind spin through on your trip. It feels like we already took a ten-hour bus ride and we haven’t even left the station. So, let’s GO!

I walk off the plane or boat, and it’s a totally “new” world, even if I have seen the video already. New sights, smells, sounds, and languages - just the pure physical reality id different than anything I have ever seen. Yes, cities are cities, and jungles are jungles, but only on the surface. Dive in, and the world expands exponentially. You can take a taxi, or and angkot, or walk. You can stay in a 5-star or a loseman. You can eat from a street cart or a warung. And you can go anywhere from there. By boat, plane, walk, bike, hike, to jungle, ocean, gunung, city, sunghai. And the people are all new - Dayak, Tarakanian, Paupauin, Indonesian, ex-pat Bule, every single one of them a new face in the sea of six billion plus that I never even dreamed of before. Travel obeys fractal laws where you enter an endless maze that only gets deeper and wider the more you explore. But on the surface, a Hyatt is a Hyatt, and a warung is a warung, and a becak driver is a becak driver. Its funny like that – it is all the same, but it’s all different, and that cycle just keeps spinning. Travel is an experience in this paradox, to be experienced, not figured out. Wet and dry, new and old, big and small, city and jungle, 5 star and stilt house, ferry and ces, the examples are everywhere, and travel transports us back and forth between the ends of the spectrum. Travel reveals its fractal nature right here – from one angle it feels like pure motion and movement, but from another its just running in place. Travel is both movement and stillness, so beautifully wrapped together that the perception changes only as the perspective changes – like viewing a prism or hologram. Step to the left, it looks like Indonesia, step right and it looks like someplace else, and no matter how many times we go back and forth, we always find ourselves, or lose ourselves, somewhere in the center.

The Magic Island

If you are seeking true magic, you need not look further than the once and future popular Bali. Lying just below the equator, the Indonesian island of Bali assaults the senses with dazzling arrays of color, smells, foods, and spirits. Look once and it's a tourist hot spot, replete with sunburns, Bintangs, beach-front villas, and perfect waves. Look again, and you aredeep in the animist jungle, face to face with monster-like deities and mystical temples. Or were you looking at a colorful Hindu funeral procession, or waking to prayer call from the neighborhood mosque? That is the magic of Bali. The moon looks different here, there are ylang-ylang trees aromating the air, and fried shallots stimulate the appetite on every
corner. You can drive from the heavily touristed and populated Kuta beach, through the more upscale beaches and shopping at Seminyak, then suddenly you are in the hectic bustle of Denpasar, then suddenly surrounded by quiet and
vibrantly green rice paddies, then warming yourself by an outdoor wood fire on the rim of a volcano, then lost on the back jungle roads, among wooden homesteads with outdoor kitchens, coconut palms, and you realize that time
has suddenly stopped. In Bali, if you are not paying attention, you can find yourself in ten places at once, or lose yourself in one place ten times over.

Bali has so many layers that the deeper you look, the more mystery you uncover. Magic here is staring you in the face and is hiding behind every corner. You find it in the exotic, and in the ordinary. Riding in a Denpasar bemo, sarong clad passengers grin with betel stained teeth, as the wafts of durian entice you. Or you may find yourself at midnight, entranced by the sounds of gamelan, surrounded by the surreal community temple, and thousands of fruit offerings. The volatile mix of animism, hinduism, and islam, on a volcanic tropical island, flanked by crystal turquoise waves, the shoreline dotted with temples, the air fragrant with incense and flowers - this is the recipe for magic. Head out to a secluded beach, a mountain jungle, or community temple, and immerse yourself - it is very intoxicating.