Batik from Bali, anybody?

While traipsing around Indonesia, daring each other to drink kopi luak (coffee made from fermented beans literally shat out by cats), I noticed a bunch of guys in dresses. Yep, EXTREMELY good times.

The sarong, also affectionately known as the Asian Kilt, is still very much in use in Indonesia. And I must say, it is great. Do you know how hot it is in that jungle? Goddamn, now I know why girls love wearing skirts. It's breezy! And yes, real men go commando under their sarongs.

Batik is this amazing thing that is made in South East Asia. It is a specific type of cloth that is created in a specific way (more on the process in a bit). In Indonesia, you can find the decorative cloth being used in a variety of ways, from collared shirts to handkerchiefs to place mats to man-dresses.

Here are a two examples of popular batik sarong styles as worn by men:

Fashion forward dude chillin' in a great shirt that brings out the highlights and patterns on his batik sarong. He's also accessorized with a cute little salmon sash. Kind of wish he'd gone with a complimentary color for the sash to better accent his waist, but hey, to each his own.

Look numero dos is another popular way men show off their beautiful batik. The look is achieved by layering a simple sarong with a very tamed trim above a more intricately designed batik pattern to subdue what could easily become tacky. The fancy front knot (a little difficult to see in this shot) also brings the sarong just high enough to smartly display his sturdy mankles. The dapper gentleman definitely understands that in fashion, sometimes less is more.

While in Indonesia, I was fortunate enough to visit a batik studio and got to see first hand how these precious pieces of jungle couture are made. It's a fascinatingly laborious process.

Now, LeVar Burton on Reading Rainbow style: Listen closely, friends, as I share with you the lessons I've learned!

Tools of the trade. On the upper right-hand corner are blocks of solid wax which are melted in the bowl-wax-melter-thing (red contraption to the left of the wax). Beneath the wax is an array of wooden handles with metal spouts which are filled with the melted wax before it's applied to the fabric. They also use stamps (square carved with the rooster), to apply intricate patterns to the fabric much faster.

Before the fabric can become batik, the designer decides which patterns will go on her carte blanche. Some patterns are predetermined by templates, but some batik artists, like this fine woman, just goes at it freehand. She draws from centuries-old patterns with each having its own meaning. For example, certain patterns can show where you're from, your social status, your thoughts of the weather, etc.

To get the show started, the batik artist takes one of the wooden handles and fills the cup on the tip with melted wax. The wax then drips down as she draws on complicated patterns handed down from generations upon generations of cultural history. The woman on the left was way ahead of the other woman and was all like, jeez girlfriend, hurry yo' ass up so we's can get paid coz I needs mah skrill to buy milk coz my baby daddy been left for Brunei like months ago and the lazy bastard sill ain't sent us no child support! And the other woman was all like, psshh chica, don't be rushin' me, you gotta chill coz we in paradise tho mija.

After the wax dries, the batik artist dips the entire piece of cloth in a single color of dye. The wax prevents the dye from coloring the cloth so you get a cool looking negative. Once the dye dries, the batik artist goes over the cloth again with wax and dips it again in dye to get another layer of color. This woman is only two colors in, but look at how awesome it looks already. I love how the jungle sun hits the opaque wax and dyed cloth. It's kind of poetic, or something.

The waxing and dying process is repeated over and over again until the design has been fully colored in and the cloth is laid out to dry one last time before the entire cloth is dipped in a solution that melts the wax off, revealing the product of hours upon hours of tedious work.

After countless hours of drawing and dripping and waxing and dying and drying and re-melting and such, the final product is something like this. A symphony of colors and patterns. Then, they charge you up to thousands of dollars (US) for pieces of cloth you can't wear outside of Indonesia and Malaysia without looking like a complete hippie. Yay, culture!

If you stop dreaming, then you're just sleeping.

Image: Sai Kung Harbor - Politically part of HK, geographically part of Mainland China.

All this running around Asia has got my head spinning. People ask me if I will go home once I'm done with all this soul-searching. My usual reply is an involuntary cock of the head, facial features rearranging themselves into a confused snarl.

First of all, who said that I'm searching for my soul? Actually, I think I might have too much. So much that it drives me a little crazy. Literally. Secondly, if I were "soul-searching," why would I ever willingly stop? It's like saying that dreaming is only for sleeping. Well, I say, fuck that.

Thirdly? There's no thirdly. Just a Firstly and a secondly, but they were both doozies so I think I can get away with it. Anywho, the following is another attempt at being a writer. Enjoy!

I dwell too much in my head

So don't get offended if I seem offensive, I'm just

Searching for space between make-believe and nightmares

Searching for lonliness while engorging on emptiness

Creating faceless wraiths of shadows of inklings of people

As I sit on foreign toilets purging myself of diarrhea

Why can't creators create in the non-exotic

Stop looking for inspiration in blanched tentacles in crowded Hong Kong alleys

Sai Kung coffee shops lined with writers watching passers-by waiting for lessons

On how to be human

Singaporean bars filled with thirsty scholars guzzling down the dreams of starving artists

I walk and walk to see and see but I can't seem to make sense of it all

Why is it so hard to be natural

Forcing sagging stories into chiseled slabs of some

Hard stone quarried from some realistic setting captured by some metaphor with a moral

I sleep too little

Overflowing with ideas that never amount to much except for frustrating fits

Of insomnia

Of explanations

Of giving everything up to be someone else doing something else

All underneath the shadows of Philippine volcanoes sipping instant coffee

Blurring the lines between night and day possibly purposefully who knows

Who knew imagining could be so hard

Even in humid jungle heat

Especially in humid jungle heat

Unfamiliar mounds of earth covered with unfamiliar sounds of words I can't pronounce

Asking strangers in hostels if they can understand me when I say I'm Californian

Balinese cloves rising up in thick smoke sweetly calming bundled nerves

Trying to unravel plots that prove to be too simple or just non-existent

Like the lady bits of Thailand's lady boys

I talk to myself too much

And I call it research because well it is

To lose touch with reality to better convey reality is what we call sublime

Or at least I think it is

Think it aloud as I stroll through Portuguese Macau hunting for Europe in China

I'm too far fucked you see to make any more sense to sensible people

Mixing myth with history making men turn into trees because a limb is a limb

And I think I love puns way too much

And I worry what the critics at the New York Times will say even before I've written a single word

Because tiny island lizards make clicking sounds, chiding my too sultry nights

Filled with too much avoiding

Sitting in Semarang in the middle of mosquito swarms I wonder if dengue fever will help

Help with writer's block with vivid hallucinations

But I never get sick, just cough from diesel soot and cigarette smog

And don't you dare compare me to Eat, Pray, Love.

I want to give up too much

Suck it, Julia Roberts.

Indonesia was quite a trip. Some parts more pleasant than others. Bali, for the most part. was one big party. However, I was quite lucky to have made some friends on a chance encounter on a ferry boat, so my experience in Bali might be a little out of the norm. It's fun to luck out every now and then.

I don't think I will be going into further detail about aforementioned newfound friends because the Balinese Board of Tourism might not appreciate our activities. Also, I think my nieces might be reading this blog. Although, I will say that Bali truly is a paradise with many faces. Whatever face your paradise takes on in Bali is completely up to you.

Before I say bye bye to Bali and hello to Hong Kong, here are a few shots I took on the occasions I remembered to bring my camera. Enjoy!

Image: Temple statue covered in cobwebs, obviously.

Image: Traditional Balinese architecture.

Image: More temple statues.

Image: Batik - traditional and elaborate method for dyeing cloth using waxes.

Image: Rice fields on the face of some mountain with a name I can't pronounce.

PS - I must admit that I keep ragging on Julia Roberts even though I haven't seen the movie. I hear it's terrible. I mean, how could it not be?

Travel tips for the travel-wary.

Image: An inner-city neighborhood typical to Indonesia

After being in Singapore even for the extremely short amount of time I was able to squeeze in, I suddenly find myself in culture shock. Or rather, culture re-shock. Singapore is an extremely disciplined city/country with hot water showers. After months in the Philippines, goddamn did hot showers just fill my soul with glee. Yes, glee. Then, I step onto the soils of Indonesia and I am immediately bombarded by street vendors aggressively hawking their wares, trying to swindle some money out of me. I don't know why, but I didn't equate the fact that 1USD = 9,000IDR with the fact that the country is extremely poor. I guess I expected Indonesia to be just like Singapore but more resort-y...?

Here's the thing about traveling to South East Asian countries like Indonesia, Thailand, and the Pihilippines - most of the people are poor as fuck. Yes, the landscape is beautiful and the culture is beautiful and all that other UN and Unesco World Heritage love flower children BS. However, if you want to get out in once piece (and still in possession of your wallet) you should never let your guard down. Appreciate your surroundings and find awe in the exotic, but I repeat, never let your guard down.

From experience, I have compiled these Third World Travel Tips:

• If you cannot speak the language and/or stick out like a sore thumb, travel with a non-native guide. Expats from your respective country are preferable. I have found that most local guides are in on the scams and will help their countrymen hoodwink you out of good chunks of money.
• Do some research. Look up the scams prevalent in whatever country you are visiting. Google is a good source, but I have also found that getting friendly with the natives at the local bar will also yield some good advice as well as awesome stories. It always helps to bring a cigar to share, even if you don't smoke.
• Think of your money as well-planned investment portfolios. Meaning, spread your money out. Do not put all of your money into one wallet placed in one pocket. Spread your money out to however many pockets you have. That way, in the event that you do get pick-pocketed, you have reserves lined up.
• A good money trick that I learned from a travel buddy is putting the larger bills in your sock. Unless the thief can successfully remove your shoe and socks without you noticing, your dinero is el safe-o.
• Do not make large purchases if you are not an expert, unless you are okay with bold-faced lies siphoning exorbitantly large amounts of money out of your life's savings. IE - don't spend ten's of thousands of dollars on an ancient Ming vase unless you have an inhuman affinity and expertise in the Ming Dynasty.
• When shopping in the markets, canvass first. You will find that you will get a wide range of prices for the same, or relatively similar, item. Take the lowest price you hear and bid a third of the asking price. Personally, I never pay over half of the original asking price.
• Another good haggling strategy is to switch currencies as you haggle. This works best for larger ticket items. The concept is simple, confuse the hell out of the vendor. First, of course, ask for the price, they will usually tell it to you in their local currency. Next, ask for the price in your respective currency. Quickly, in your head, decide how much you want to pay (go for something aggressive like 1/4 the asking price). Memorize that number in both the local and your own currency. Then here comes the confusing part - haggle back and forth switching currencies as you exchange bids. This usually leads to a very confused vendor who will practically give you the item. Just don't get confused yourself, because then you just screwed yourself.
• Always haggle. Unless you are buying food, because, well, that's just kind of a dick move.
• If you are a smoker, buy your cigarettes at the supermarket. Not only are the prices clearly marked, they tend to be the most economical. Street vendors do not always display their prices because some of them have different prices for tourists and for locals. It's a dirty game they play.
• As much as possibly, refrain from giving money to beggar children. Most of them are part of larger syndicate rings, which basically "employ" (or better, exploit) the poor children. Think Slumdog Millionaire.
• I always travel with sunscreen and a handkerchief. The sun mixed in with high humidity and third world pollution is just gross.
• Constantly check that your belongings are in order. Check your pockets and your bags to make sure nothing is missing.
• Do not attempt to lie to Immigration Officers. They know many, many things.

In summation, traveling to third world countries can be easy on the budget, but keep in mind why it's cheaper to travel through Indonesia than to travel through France. Semarang is no Provence. Although each has their own beauties, they also have their own dangers. One city can leave you penniless while the other can leave you wreaking of lavender, which can be a bitch if you have allergies.