Head of Wild Foliage, NZ Feb 6th 2009

"He showed me a sketch he had drawn once during a meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only a wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart... To find the balance you want, thsi is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly in the earth that it's like you haev four legs instead of two, that way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart instead. That way you will know God."

This quote is from one of my favourite books I've begun re-reading called Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I lost my Krishnamurti book somehow. But I know it's happened for a reason and it will just come back and find me so far.

So it's been four days since I've updated, but it's gone by so quickly it feels like only 24 hrs. Is it weird that time has gone by quite quick on less than 3 hrs sleep a night?

The flight to Melbourne wasn't all that great because the food was late but that's not important. The stuards looked tense and stress and one dropped a whole tray on me and I didn't even mind because he was african, wearing a baby blue colored suit and his name was Jupiter. I've gotten into the habit of visualizing white light around whatever hunk of metal my vulnerable little body happens to be encased in. And I try to send gratitude to everyone and anything that ever had to do with the building and upkeep of such a huge human carrier. the pilot, the people who loaded the food, the people in the air control towers, the engineers, the double checkers, the materials the earth gave to make this plane, everyone who's ever had a trip in it, all the people currently in it. i send all this points of physical matter love and white light and happiness and this makes for a much calmer flight when that unexpected shake of turbulence hits and I grab Barts hand out of instinct and he starts making fun of me by gasping and squeezing and jumping me.

So we arrive to Andrew (Bart's uncle) and Kath (Andrew's neighbour) waiting for us at the airport and they drive us to Miller Street where they live in Prahran. We took a walk in their area (which reminded me alot of Toronto Queen Street Summer) and I got a bank account. (How efficient am I?) The thing I was most surprised and urked by was the apparent deadness of the grass and all living green things sprouting from the ground. This saddened me quite a bit. There was just a heatwave that happened right before we arrived, but I began to appreciate the green of Canadian summers, the diversity of our weather even if it does get so cold, we hibernate. There is a balance in that cycle. This lack of green, I did not yet know, would be compensated by the green hearts of the kiwi people.

The street we were on was a bit shi shi. Cute boutiques with pretty things I promised myself later I would stop to look at when I return. The girls are good looking and have nice dressed, and there is this summery indie feel amongst the young with slight nu rave peaking through in the form of neon sunglasses. But there are these horrible looking sandals that everyone wears which cover the ankle and I just don't get it... since the ankle is one of the sexiest parts of the body *to me anyway*

Because I was so tired and ungrounded, my first impressions of Melbourne were very random and awkward. So I'm deleting it all from my mind and letting it go so that I can approach my new city untainted and clean... (hmm, wouldn't it be helpful to approach all of life this way. thats what Jenna does. she's like a piece of glass life moves through.) ANYWAY

Andrew has a been living in the same one bedroom flat for around 20 years. Every wall in his home is covered with shelves of books. Some shelves just line the top of of the walls right under the ceiling. But as soon as you walk in, to the right is a room blanketed with books. Everything is organized and labeled. The energy of this home library and the accumulaton of this information mirrors the energy splaying off in various directions from Andrew's head. It's like an energetic cosmic archive of Andrew's brain. It's the combination of certain philisophical, religious and political book that makes me feel I understand him one inch more. And alot of Chomsky.

I have always dreamt about building my own library but somewhere along the way of the past year, the idea or belief entered me that I needed to let go of as much unneccesary physical baggage as possible to live simply. Fuck that! I'ma get myself a LIBRARY! To have a library is to build your own inspiration jungle of words and ideas. It's a milky way of cosmic knowledge that you came to earth to encounter. Just like cosmic knowledge hangs over cities and places. I know this is a really hippy thought for some of you, but just roll with me for a second. Indulge all your limitless fantasies and possibilities vicariously through me. What an ultimate pleasure and blessing that it's even possible for us to do this. Let alone write books for people to include in their library with our name on it! I am reminded of all the beautiful people on my path who house impressive libraries. Miki Laval, Mike Donovan, Patricia Mohan. We all have a little library in our heart. Even if it is just one or two shelves. Even if we bought the shelf for $10 dollars and then sold it for $15.

When I think of even having my top ten books in the same counrty together my mind body brims with visions of having each one of the truths I found in them at my constant disposal. Have you found truth in words that lie on a page? Have you read a line that just made your whole body tingle with vibrations. Have your ever read a book a second time and noticed a line that hadn't stuck out to you before, but now it does based on your current orientation and understanding of the world? Its a fuckin spiritual thing man. Like waking up hung over beside your best friend and just having the best day recording a podcast, going to the sauna, ordering a pizza and just blabbing your heart out the whole way through.

After a nap and hearty meal of polish hunters stew with Andrew, we re-packed, re-strengthened, re-visioned my greeting Ada outfit, hit the pillow for about three hours and then got up at 4am to catch a train, get on a new plane with the dew of precious things and fly to the land of clouds that called out to us through his blood connections. Brother and sister coming together and girlfriend witnessing a brew of old fireworks, stories and familiar eyes.

Penang (flexactly a week ago)

You Are the World.

i am the indian boys carrying wood over sand
i am the waves tickling the land
i am the father showing his daughter the clams
i am the monkey taking bread from your hand

i am the snake slithering to the stomp of your soles
i am the monk at the bus station just:

holding
a
bowl

i am the muslim crouching, clutching his Nikon
extending my lens to grasp the pause of a fire fly
i am a rock floating under your sky
(that means your the universe)
and I am the memory that slides out when you sigh.

i am the kunda in you lini when your
spine
aligns

i am the batu in your ferringhi
the nasi in your lemak
the Ki in you knee
the roti in your canai

i am even the heat on your toes like fungi


I wrote this poem on monkey beach after we had hiked there for one hour, after reading Krishnamurti and listening to "Burn Out" by Cinematic Orchestra. I was feeling very seperate from the things around me after Kuala Lumpur and sorting out my thoughts regarding muslim attitude towards the female gender. Conservative women covered in head to toe, including their face, with only a slit for their eyes, strolled the edge of the beach infront of me with their husbands while I and other foreign girls wore bikinis. Then I read this Krishnamurti section of "You are the World" about how the biggest psychological issue blocking us is this idea that we are seperate from others and everything. The quote, which I can't find now because the book is somewhere in the depths of my luggage. And even though I've vibed and agreed to this fact in theory it was the perfect moment for me to take that in again and I began to percieve my being from the point of those around me, finally, experientially knowing, that I am them and they are me so i should just chill the fuck out.

ps. i made a new word in the title: flexactly. Which means: flexibly exactly

head in the sky with your feet on the ground... literally

The more I see and do and experience, the more my mind is filled with images. rubbish. confusion. understanding. and every night, stranger and more vivid dreams.

On Saturday morning I woke to someone new beside me in bed, which would have been surprising if Bart hadn't woke me up at 1am to tell me about Jenna's migraine. After the body massage she felt worse and couldn't fall asleep as the dorm was too cold, so her and Bart traded places and she came to sleep with me in the double bed in our slightly warmer room. We woke up at almost the exact same minute and then told eachother our twisted unsettling dreams. I was so happy she felt alot better in the morning.

That day we went on a hike through one of the paths the hostel had mapped out. We took lots of water, high energy snacks, photos of the map and called upon the ghost of Jim Thomas as we began climbing roots and slipping on rust colored soil. He was called the Silk King of Thailand and part of the CIA and went missing after going on a hike around dinner time. There are many theories about how he went missing. That he was kidnapped, or that he fell hundreds of meters through the "empty ground." Supposedly, his family is still offering some kind of lofty financial reward for information about his whereabouts. Although if he was still alive right now, he would be 102.

So we climbed through a rainy rainforest until we reached the top. Above the clouds there was no rain and only quiet fog. It felt like a movie as we grew more and more lost and I started my "What would I do if a Zombie came out of the bushes for me?" scenario imagining. Standing infront of an electricity tower the path became very very difficult to follow or even see. There seemed to be big orange arrows in random directions that led nowhere. And on every path that we knew wasn't "the one," was a human or animal poo...? As we climbed directly under the electricity tower and looked for more paths, we finally, after about 20 kinda nervous minutes found a rust colored landslide which led up to a very clearly marked path. But it was very inconspicuous. Had we not tried that way, we might still be in the jungle. Anyway, as we happily chuggled along that route we entered into very dark, mossy, viney forest which looked like the one in the Princess Bride. Trunks of trees formed the most inticing shapes as branched pushed for light. As we descended from the clouds, rain tickled our skulls and we began to climb down down down. Again, a fork in the path and we decide to go right when we should have gone left. This brought us to walking through the tiniest most indecipherable path which looked like an animal trail as we pushed away blankets of wet plants. This was an exhilerating bit of the walk. It's weird, the under the surface silent collective hope of getting lost. The desire to be in danger and the urge to feel your adreneline flow through the body. My excitement for a moment to trust myself. to depend on myself. to know the forest again so well that you move around hollow or fallen trunks as if they are pieces of furniture in your home. the comraderie between Jenna, Bart and I was very humorous and uplifting. It's nice after being a pair and hanging out with eachother for so long, for someone new to come into your relationship and zest things up by shifting the dynamic.

After a little visit to a strawberry growing farm, visiting a night market and getting drenched by rain, we reconvened for beers with Jenna, Rodrigo and a few other travellers we had gotten to know after Bart and I packed to leave the next morning for Singapore. I got a little tipsy and had the thought whilst we all played cards, that I felt totally comfortable with these people, and that I wouldn't mind being able to hang out with them more. It hit me that there is always someone to leave behind even if you've only been in a place for a few days. I feel inspired and blessed by how quickly the dynamics of a small group of people can develop and mean something. Everytime, I find this... sometimes, without even consciously creating it. It comes to me and I bring something to it with divine love and gratitude and somehow I know that facilitation in small groups of people is what aligns me and brought me here.

That night I put together a small ziploc bag of goodies and called it "Jenna's Bag of Happy" and after everyone was a sleep and I finished writing some mantras my heart was ringing out like a Vipassana Retreat bell, I slipped the bag under her shoes in front of the mixed dorm where she slept. One of those mantras was this:

I have a pitcher plant
where I throw all my thoughts
for the monkeys to steal.

They have no idea what they are getting into.

But they are hungry and
I am chopsticking a full belly of
memory
after
memory.

We got the best bus back to Singapore. With luxury seats that go back into bed mode. The bus threw us down winding roads and my stomach sang the blues, even after Jenna gave us special accupuncture bracelets for motion sickness. So I took a gravol and conked myself out for almost four hours witch made the nine hour trip seem short. I also watched the Constant Gardner and affirmed my love for Ralph Fiennes.

This morning, Monday Feb 2nd, I packed my bag and went to Orchard Road while Bart went to the science center. I had a really nice day to myself and got a wicked new pair of sunglasses. Tonight we fly to Melbourne, stop at Bart's uncles house for 24 hrs and then fly on to Auckland.

I can't wait to see Ada and shower her with me love you long time adoration.

... like a thrust of the hips, Saturday January 31st 2009, Cameron Highlands.

From the present moment, forward and then back again.

On Thursday we ascended from the heat of Penang up into the cool fresh Cameron Highlands which are the highest mountain peaks in the country. The temperature change welcomed but the cold on the first night was surreal, the mist, something to get used to again, just like the closeness of the sun.

The bus ride was a ridiculous thing to endure with strangers. Now when someone passes us in town who was on that bus, there is a connection. Oh yeah, we endured the leaking air conditioner which rained toxic fluid all over our heads. how you doin. smile. Instead of 5 hrs, it took 8, but as Jenna (our new beautiful chinese medicine studying wise woman companion who has been traveling asia for five months, originally from Seattle, ) says: "It happens." More on this lovely being later.

I love staying relaxed in those shitty nauseating travel moments. It feels like I am reversing the mold that my thoughts push to go in. the archetype of the victim or whatever, even about a stupid travel journey... but we dont. we just hang out the door of the bus and welcome the plants and traffic inside.

On the bus I asked for Jenna to magically appear at our new hostel as we met her in Penang on the beach the day before we left and she hinted at heading our way. I also asked for blue skies the next day so that we could see through the clouds at what scurries below us. Both were accumulated along the way way way.

We are staying in a beautiful but very cheap accomodation called Fathers Guesthouse with stunning views and a very good travellers atmosphere. Happy change from the luxuriousness of the room we had in Batu Farringhi. This is more like camping and our room is cabin-esque. The showers are outside under the open sky where you can look up through shampoo bubbled eyes and open your mouth and hum to the expanse above. . The sky is becoming personified in my world lately.

That night sleep was cold and cuddly. The hostel organizes day tours so on Friday we went to the mossy forest and tea plantations. After a bowl of fresh fruit we piled into two jeeps with Kali and Bob our guides for the day. We drove to a the oldest and highest tea plantation in Cameron Highlands (and in the world) and Kali explained the daily process'. Supposedly the higher you go, the better quality the tea. We then ascended to the highest point in the Cameron Highlands to look down from. Then we went on a walk through the a very muddy and moist mossy forest where he said the ground was "empty" because this was the highest oldest rainforest in Malaysia and everything had risen from the sea which is how the moss originated from coral. The temperture could change drastically where within 5 steps of a path under the sun it would be around 27 degrees, then to 20 as you walked into the shade and it drops again to about 17 under really dense mossy trees. Kali showed us many medicinal and poisnous plants such as lemongrass, ginger, cinnamon, and spearmint which we all got to taste right from the branch. Tea tree and manuka trees aswell and the very popular and valuable pitcher plants which catch water and flies that monkeys come and steal. It's like being in a bloody David Attenborough documentary! holla! The whole ecosytem hangs in such a delicate balance depending on them. I cheekily started the trekk right behind Kali at the front of about sixteen folks, feeling as if I was on a one on one trekk, catching him making fake tiger paw tracks to scare everyone else. I fell to the back of the line naturally somehow and as I slipped over moss, swinging forward in one long movement on the path a french woman with a nine month old baby girl was infront of me putting my tensing thighs to shame. The way she carried her over againts her chest over and under the wet branches made me think of how monkey like we are. She mirrored the father monkey carrying his albino yellow chimp, swinging across the vines upside down.

Post walks stomachs growled and we drove to one of the oldest tea factories where the oldest machine there supposedly produces the best teas in the highlands. On the drive there Jenna talked about teaching english in a rural Cambodian village and living with a family, eating meals with them of fresh fish on the fire. She doesn't have a certificate but was handed a black board and chalk. We also talked about accupuncture and I've realized the healer in her and really look forward to her five needle chill out treatment later. I'm inspired by the way she has traveled east asia alone and am extremely grateful for her short presence on our trip. We will put her in touch with Ada, Bart's sister who is practicing massage and chinese medicine as Jenna applies for jobs all over the world.

After the factory tour we waited in a long que of chinese tourists for some delicious teas and cakes. I got banana carrot. We then returned to the hostel and the sun gave the clouds the spotlight on the skystage. They moved upon us with rain and this is the daily cycle here. The rhthym of this weather keeps the strawberry's growing with a balance of the universe's vital essence.

After resting we headed into town with Jenna and a new friend Rodrigo from Uruguay. Everyone is either on their way FROM traveling Aus or on their way TO Aus. (like us.) Rodrigo was on his way back with many stories. We ordered a "steamboat" which is a large serving or various versions of fishballs, chicken, tofu, greens, mushrooms, noodles, clams, eggs etc. You throw it all into a tom yum broth and cook it yourself on a burner. We all told eachother our apples, onions and eucalyptus trees of our trip.

Apples: the best, favourite moment
Onions: the low, hardship experience
Eucalyptus: the inbetween which your still not sure how you feel about it.

Jenna shared another Cambodia apple story about a man she met sitting on a roof top after smoking a spliff with a few travel folk and hearing his life story. How he was born to a mafia father who owned an elephant trekk tour company and at 5 yrs old was sent on foot alone to fetch a new elephant from a nearby country and it took him 1 year to get back with the elephant as he had to sell things on the way to survive. And he was only 25. She said: "That's what I loved most about Cambodia, the people there are so okay with the struggle in their lives. Their like: Okay, yeah, life is shit but that how it is. I love her equanimity and her "it happens" shrug as if nothing could penetrate her relaxed heart. I've decided I'm going to put together a little remember us package in a ziploc bag with some yogi tea, gogi berries, rose quarts, cleansing wipes and a poem thanking her for her good energies.

After dinner the three of us went for a full body massage. There is not too much to say about it other than that she hit spots which I innately knew where sensitive but I was suprised at how tender they were to someone else's touch, mostly on my front. It brough up some emotions and my feet were really cold so I decided to get an additional foot reflexology treatment for 45 minutes at another place down the road. I sat in that chair having never felt more light. He really knew what he was doing was in complete focus and union. I could feel the energy shifting around my body and for a moment I felt a quiet guilt for the pleasure, like I didn't deserve everything being offered to me that day but then I realized HOW SILLY THAT IS and open my heart to the healing. There was a connection with that man and I wish I had time to hang out here and ask him to teach me everything he knows about the feet, ears and hands as maps of the body.

I'm starting to think about New Zealand as we drive to Singapore tommorow for our flight to Melbourne (for 24 hrs) then Auckland and how I need to find a job in Melbourne right away. I wrote through the day which felt relieving after my writing gap but am still struggling with how to integrate time alone into our current life without having to wakeup everyday at five am or interuppting other's plans etc.

After meeting Jenna and other independant travelers, I know traveling alone is in my future and I feel like this trip makes me confident and more sure of how i want to do it. The beauty of taking each day as it comes, allowing the days gifts to come to you in the form of bus tickets, beds and people is alluring. Observing the lone traveler makes me feel like I understand Jindalee more and her constant love of the way the present moment is what you wade in while from away from everything you already know into the gravity, pull and territory of fate.

We cross like vericose veins under the hot skin of the sky.

If you want to see my albums of Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and Penang go to my picasa page:

www.picasaweb.google.com/myszkamyszka0

Golden Rain Papaya Love Loops, part 2

THIS POST SHOULD BE RIGHT AFTER PART 1, blogger bugger mixed it up!

Our first day in KL was stunning. Dragon fruit filled bellies we started at the Petrona towers and went to the Aquarium in hopes of escaping the heat at its highest point in the day and then we headed to the central market in a beautiful turquoise building with lavish un-neccessary and overpriced souvenirs. The highlight was the fish spa where tiny fish nibbled at the dead skin on our feet. I didn't expect to feel so invigorated in my whole body afterwards! It's amazing what good circulation can do for your breath and mind. Bathing in this wakefulness we stepped out into the rain and saw some very high quality portrait artists using coal and pastels and drawing from photos. They were some of the best most beautiful portraits I've seen. If I was ever to want one, that's where I'd go. As we walked sort of aimlessly an impending storm was stirring in the wind and scattering birds. Mysterious excitement filled my lungs as we walked toward some municipal buildings and the national art gallery. and ofcourse, all of a sudden, downpour. We took refuge under what looked like a very important building and I began to play with my camera and the different features. You'll see all these pics on picasa. Then as the rain cleared up we walked back towards a canal and at the end of it we spotted a pretty famous mosque. The rain and the smells coming from the sewers and the fruit stalls and my armpit sweat and Barts red scarf over my head (a gift from Brenda and Fahad) all these stupid simple things made me feel like I could stay in that moment forever, where everything was perfect for those seconds we approached the mosque and watched the silhouettes of men sleeping and praying in the open air structure which had massive openings all around it. Mesmerized I watched and I felt a part of it all. The devotion here teases its way into daily life in an almost romantic way. Like the lone woman, gazing at the mosque whisper singing along to the Koran sung through loud speakers as if only to her. I saw her beliefs carrying her up the escalator that night. And this became the climax of my curiosity into these muslim city women hidden after 9pm, the streets filled only with men, while they're wives were probably laughing and gossiping in a kitchen or balcony somewhere, masked to the stray cats and insane motor bike racing....

Amidst all these happenings I bought some fresh papaya and ate it in the rain. I cannot praise moisture more. I was vibing so much that this repeated phrase came to me and I started jamming with myself and imagining that Moe Clark (a poet in Montreal from Calgary) was with me and we had her foot pedal and we were just building on this crazy loop about a papaya.

That night we went to Chinatown and the market where they sell "GENUINE" fake copies of all sorts of stuff. We got bombarded by the traders and learned how to sway by them politely while ignoring them and scoped out some cheap thrills in order to find out how much we should be paying for them and come back the next day. Bart is the best haggler I've ever met in my life. I'm so lucky to go shopping with him. He seriously knows what he's doing. Its the salesman in him. He won't be had.

ps. You can now see my Singapore Sling album on picasaweb.google.com/myszkamyszka0

on consistency

Why do I struggle with it so much? Resistance, push and pull. Want but desire overtakes the body becoming greed. Cosmic out of this worldly feeling kind of ambition, the fear which stops me.

it has been heart grappling not writing and updating my live journal. I write about it because its part of the whole trip and the experience of traveling with a partner. So much has happened and every day the images and thoughts have piled up into the database which I keep promising myself I will access later. But holla to my writers out there. We know the deal, you wont write shit later, unless you wake up, get out of bed and pen the mantras you keep thinking you'll remember in the morning. I exchange wish washy wishes for passwords to try and unlock my flow. i give in to laziness. I am on holiday after all. excuses. I think I need a continuity keeper like on the movie sets. i get so hard on myself sometimes. but the universe sends me reminders to chill out.

I seem to believe that I need to slide into a very solitary space to write and reflect instead of BEING the writing, living it, letting the writing slide onto the bus I'm riding, the bus stop I'm waiting at, the minutes before sleep etc. I self sabotage myself, make up the story that someone or something is going to distract me just as I glide into the zone. and it happens. and my cells fill with agitation. and anger surfaces. and i just want to drown back into my dream world and leave everyone behind. wow. im being shakily honest here. surprise.

So I'm adjusting my attitude and awareness so that I can summon my dreams freshly. Because today I learned that 98% of our genetic potential has no known function, so when in our waking state, we only use something like 2% of our genetic potential. Supposedly this is quantifiable and measurable but that 98% seems to be inaccessible somehow because its not flowing into our cellular structure (or experienced in human's biological reality)

When the cells are hit with high wave length short frequency energy patterns changes in the coding sequences on our genes take place which are essentially an organization of chemicals and through our feelings... our attitudes and awareness, it is suggested that we can help this invisible potential through into the cellular structure.

So is attempting to consciously create my reality and define the experiences i have as opposed to allowing the experiences/things happening define me, too grand? impossible? its mad scientist time a la Spencer Butt i think. i feel like I'm also channeling Brendan Mcleods poem on Human potential!

also

the strands of DNA in our bodies are a hundred billion miles long and could reach the sun
400 000 times over.

i know it all sounds fluffy wuffy but this is all supposedly researched at Stanford University by some quantum physicists.

okay. back to papaya golden rain boogy part 2.

January 23 2009, Kuala Lumpur, Golden Rain Papaya Love Loops

I haven't even eaten breakfast yet because I'm so vibing to write this. Mornings have become Michelle times. Bart has taken to sleeping in and it gives me the chance to lay out my thoughts a little, plan the day and check up on emails, loads photos. But I write this with the anxiousness that he might wake up any second and tap me on the shoulder and that would ofcourse change my flow, and i just wanna go go go go and not stop.

I start with the day before yesterday because that's where I ended. It was one of those really challenging traveling days and I just had to keep reminding myself to breathe and stay grounded and not give into spiraling useless over emotional thoughts. Ofcourse everything is sorted out and we got bus tickets to Penang. Getting them was a mission and a half because we were exhausted and we went to Putrajaya bus station where there are just rows and rows of bus company's looking to sell tickets to foreigners. But Mohammed at the Hostel warned us that some of them will sell you a ticket and the bus doesnt show. The one's we got seem legit but I'm still asking the universe to help make that bus show up. Anyway we got them and then decided to go to a huge food market recommended by Lonely Planet.

Its called Durian Heaven, with rows of stalls selling Durian fruit. Which I haven't tried yet, but I will today. When we originally got out of the station to get there we could see the Petrona towers right near to us and the night view was stunning. Then it felt like we were actually walking through a graffiti piece, because there were tons of little shack houses with closed doors, florescent lights streaming through the cracks, childrens voices, adults laughing, laundry hanging and a hundred shoes scattered outside each door. We walked through the puddles to the Durians. We walked and walked and walked until I felt my feet were falling off, then realized we were right around the area of our hostel and could walk home through Chow Kit Market. Ended up going to a Curry house with the most amazing Roti I've ever had. They set up restaurants in massive rooms here with very bright lights and huge fans, one would assume not pleasant or appetizing surroundings. But they don't need it to be nice because the food is just so good. I've been eating cooked foods obviously because it would just be silly of me to try and stay raw at such an early stage of my journey. I have been drinking from coconuts though and trying as much of the tropical fruit as I can wet my mouth with. In the Curry house last night, there was this kid who had just recieved a toy from his parents which was a yellow plastic car track which has tiny little cars riding on it. He was so present. All he cared about was that toy. I wanted to be one of those little plastic cars in that moment.

Trees emerge from concrete here you know, out the sides of buildings, branches turning balconies into jungles.

We finally were able to book accomodation in Penang even though it is Chinese New Year and super busy. Although we overpayed a little bit, it looks amazing. Right on the beach and its not one of those nasty high rise tourist hotels. I guess this is the part of the trip we really treat ourselves and float away in paradise for a couple of day. I'm hoping for more opportunities to be with nature in Penang and in the Cameron Highlands which we where we will head to next. Today I'm hoping we can get to the Batu Caves about 8 miles out of Kuala Lumpur, its a hindu temple, very old sacred site. But onto yesterday.... i cant believe how much i want to say right now. It's like my throat chakra is spilling blue ink into my veins. How do I capture all the in-between moments, tiny tiny billions of stimulated seconds that sifted through my skin membrane. Like this....hahahah and Bart just walked in....

I just got the thumbs up on the Batu Caves. YESSSS! I'm going to have some breakfast and then delve into yesterdays reflections while Bman gets ready.

January 21st 2009 Kuala Lumpur

Myszka Myszka read all about it!

We've just arrived in Kuala Lumpur and are sitting in the hostel reception trying to figure out our next steps, it seems silly since we havent seen anything in KL yet but we just want to map out our tracks so we know how long we're here for and where we are going next. The bus ride was super comfortable and I watched Revolutionary Road and Music and Lyrics on my Ipod. When we arrived at the KL main bus station the heat really hit us and the mission to the hostel was challenging, bit of a workout, you can just feel your pores opening up and gasping.

Its Chinese New Years and the buses and trains are rammed with bookings, same for hostels. Something in me really wants to get to Penang, probably because I haven't been on a beach for ages! I feel like the Universe is asking us to deepen our faith and strengthen our trust... We can leave on Sunday to Penang and that means 5 days in KL, which suits me as it is supposedly the "most inexpensive city in Malaysia." But if we do that and go to Penang, we would miss out on Cameron Highlands which is something Bart really wants to do. I'm pretty open and relaxed about both options. I know it's going to just fall into place and I think my job is to help chill the boy out a bit. This morning on the bus he was like: "I'm so happy its worked out this way." :) Anyone wanna bet I'll be hearing that phrase again tommorow or the day after? hope so.

Not much to say about KL yet other than the hostel is wicked, the people on the street and public transit more modest and the street our hostel is on looks inviting and im looking forward to walking down it.

Sending whomever is reading this all my love and blessings to the rhythm of the hostel host at his desk beside me clipping his nails. Nice! ha.