shovelin' poo 2007

of caves and cruises

Kathryn — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 06:19:46 +0000

I’d like to dedicate this post to my father, who has continually harassed me from the other side of the planet to update this blog. Without him, this post would not be possible. This one’s for you, Gussie.

For our post-jungle trekking excursion we were taken first to Skeleton Cave, which is about three hours from Sandakan. Skeleton Cave is a museum/heritage site that was used as burial grounds by the local tribesmen more than 500 years ago. The skeletons have all since been moved to guard against vandalism and animals but the coffins and carvings and various artifacts are still there and in surprisingly good shape. It’s called Skeleton Cave because the top caverns look like a skull and you can see it for miles. Now, you may recall the I had only just four days previously gotten over my altitude sickness from Mount Kinabalu so you can imagine my dismay when I realized that the caverns were not below ground, or even at ground level. They were around 11 storeys up some ridiculously steep and incredibly sketchy looking staircases. Essentially, it was just a huge rock and to get to the cavern with all the important tribesmen, you had to actually climb up the rock and over. I can only imagine how they managed to get the coffins in there, let alone themselves (the stairs were definitely worn, but I doubt they were around 500 years ago). Since it’s a sacred site, you’re not allowed to take photos and you’re not allowed in the cavern of the important tribesmen, but you are allowed to look in. You can explore as you wish in the other caverns, which is pretty great. There are lots of bats and birds so it’s very poopy smelling and poopy slippery (I just can’t seem to get enough poo) but the coffins and tools are just there for the touching. The people must have been tiny back then, the coffins are made of a tree trunk, split in half and hollowed out with decorative carvings all over. John, our resident guide, told us about his tribe that still lives in “tribal conditions” and how they’re all teeny as well. He was considered a giant when he was born and he stands less than an inch taller than me. He also told us all about headhunting and how up until 50 years ago, it was still done in his village. He was raised in his village to be a tribesman and a hunter, but when he was twelve and decided not to get married like the other kids the government came and sent him to a public school in Kota Kinabalu. So for the school year he would be in the big city, and for the summers he would be living in the jungle. Talk about trying to find a purpose in life.
After Skeleton Cave we drove for another hour or so down what I deemed to be Hell Road the Second (the original Hell Road being a terrible “shortcut” Alex and I took in high school, managing to simultaneously get stuck in the mud and run out of gas… don’t worry Dad, it was her car). Now, driving in Malaysia is scary enough on its own without encountering a Hell Road. This Hell Road was varying in size, between one and four lanes wide, and (for three hours straight) just a huge construction zone. But in Malaysia there aren’t any of those fancy stop sign twirling construction workers. In a lot of cases (including this one) there aren’t even any pylons or signs that warn you of upcoming construction, although we got the picture after the first four sites or so. Wow, it was very scary and vomiting inducing. Thankfully Karen, Alice and George took the bullet on this one and I was just feeling queasy. I do not bode well on dirt roads littered with large machines and speeding cars swerving to pass other swerving cars and avoid stray dogs (which are everywhere). Apparently I have some pent up frustrations about driving in Malaysia… but I digress. Eventually we show up at the second cave, which is the infamous Guatamatong Caves, known for the bird’s nests that make up bird’s nest soup (an expensive delicacy in Asia). Thankfully, this cave did not require us to walk up or down any terrifying stairs, but the smell (oh God the smell) was enough to make you rethink the decision. There was a fifteen minute walk from the information lodge and within ten minutes you could already smell it. The moment you could see the entrance to the cave (which was huge) it became stifling. It was like someone opening a bottle of terrible chemical stench right beneath your nose. Seriously, you could taste it and feel it burning your nostrils and throat and had to make a choice of which was the lesser pain to breathe through. Really, it was kind of funny. I looked at John at one point, no doubt with a grimace on my face because of the stench, and he just said, in his most monotone voice, “I come here over one hundred times every year”. Poor guy. Now, this cave is just huge and open so you walk in and around on this boardwalk and you can see the guys high above you getting the nests. The smell is just incredible and the boardwalk is slippery and black with poo. Funnily enough, so is the handrail. There were many a split decision made regarding whether or not to touch the handrail or just fall as we slipped around (it was a lot like watching people walk on a slanted ice rink… covered in poo). Oh, did I forget to mention Cockroach City and Bug Central? Well, not only did falling in the cave merit you with a fresh coating of bird poo and pee, but you would also get a chance to mingle with the multitudes of ‘roaches. There was even one spot (which I took a picture of, but it doesn’t really capture the full effect) that was just a moving wall of insects. Very gross. Anyhoo, not much else to say about the Guatamatong Cave. Very interesting, glad I went, would not go again. Would not pay $100 for the soup.
From here we got back in the car and drove another half hour or so to get to the Kinabatang river cruise jetty. Not your average river cruise. By now it had started to pour so we all put on our rainy bests and hopped in our 10-person outboard motor boats. Despite the pouring rain, I really enjoyed the river cruise. We saw tons of Probiscus monkeys and a water village or two and then we got our driver to take us down some “shortcuts”, which are those beautiful little waterpathways just wide enough for a boat to go through. Very jungle-y. Anyhoo, the cruise was about two hours, and afterwards we embarked back upon Hell Road the Second in the dark and somehow made it home alive.

i’m alive

Kathryn — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 23:47:42 +0000

I swear. I’ve just been “livin’ the dream” as they say. I have more posts about Malaysia done, but they’re on my laptop with no obvious way to get them out.

Anyhoo, here are some pictures while you wait:
Our Trips
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2078833&l=9c680&id=94800734

A Variety of Things (including the cockroach that was in my pants)
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2078944&l=9399b&id=94800734

Our Graduation Party
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2078987&l=6cbb9&id=94800734

jungle trekking

Kathryn — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 12:20:11 +0000

So, as I mentioned briefly at the end of my last post about “climbing” Mount Kinabalu… as great as climbing the mountain was, nothing could have prepared me for the exciting adventure I faced when I finally reached the bottom: alititude sickness. For four days and five nights I laid in my bed or on the bathroom floor just waiting for a spontaneous session of sickness! Talk about “wow factor”.
Anyhoo, on the fifth day I rose again and was able to finally start my second placement, jungle trekking. Sue and Isla, my work group, had been trekking for four days already with James and Gabili. The jist of trekking is that you walk throughout the jungle and look for the “semi-rehabilitated orangutans” (who sometimes are gone for days at a time) and see if they are building nests. [Sidenote: yes, orangutans build nests, high in trees, like Big Bird's.] But mainly, you just look for nests and other interesting things and scream about leeches. Now, I was really worried about spiders upon coming to Malaysia, but really, I’ve only seen a couple terrifying spiders. What you really need to watch out for are the cockroaches and leeches. I’ve never seen an actual leech, and because of this my only reference to them was that scene from “Stand By Me” which terrified me as a kid. While working in the Outdoor Nursery I’d come across a couple leeches, but they were all pretty small and usually just on my big rubber boots, easily flicked away. This was not the case deeper in the jungle. The sneaky things hang out on the tips of leaves, just groping around for something with blood in it. They must be able to sense you coming because they manage to cling to you as you pass by them, and they move pretty slow. I know this sounds ridiculous, but the leeches really slowed down the trekking. At least one every ten minutes. And that’s excluding the ones you catch on the leaves. To “deal with” the leeches we brought spray bottles with Dettol and water. A couple spritzes and the poor guys would be temporarily paralyzed and fall off. So generally we were pretty calm when we came across them. Just a lot of saying “pachat” in my angriest jungle whisper and flicking it off. But if they’ve already got a hold of your skin then it’s another story. Did you know that if you put salt on them, as people sugges, they actually regurgitate everything in their system back into your bloodstream. Gross, eh? One day, I brought my voice recorded with me on the trek so I could send some “jungle sounds” back to my parents and happened to record a “pachat panic” where I suddenly, in a weird state of panic, start screaming about a leech that had already attached himself onto a healing wound on my wrist. It’s quite funny. I might upload it on here soon, with some of the said jungle sounds whenever I remember to set it up.
So anyway, I only really got to have one day of full-on trekking, the rest of the four days were spent trekking/trapping for small mammals (mainly tree shrews and moon rats), but I assure you there were just as many leeches. Jomius and James took us on the trapping treks and were always teaching us Malay, playing tricks on us and being generally giggly and friendly. After one of the treks they brought out some beer and demanded we all have one. They even brought us ice cream one morning! So on the last day, we hid some beer with notes from orangutans in the last trap because it was always empty. It was very sneaky and we got lost in the jungle to do it, but their reaction was definitely worth it. Although, it did mean Isla and I had to stomach another beer, which we absolutely hate. Such sacrifice. We also got to do some nocturnal treks into the jungle to see the nightlife (unfortunately, no karaoke). The night treks were amazing, there’s just so much to see in the jungle at night and it’s sooooo loud. The point of the nocturnal trek is mainly just to give the volunteers a chance to see the jungle at night. But it’s also so that the rangers can sneak up on the orangutans in the outdoor nursery while they should be building their nests (nests are generally built at sundown so they can sleep in them). We went to great lengths to keep quiet and sneak up on them so we could see them without them noticing us, but five minutes away we could already hear them. They’re such troublemakers. All of the bigger big kids were on the roof of the cage for the littler big kids, just thrashing around and causing a lot of noise. There were no nests to be had on this night. They were already in a playful mood and having us show up in the dead of night was incredibly inviting to them. Within moments they were all climbing down and trying to climb us. Definitely a couple fun nights. I can’t get over how human-y these guys are. They’re all so innocently hilarious.
Now, we have a long lunch hour here as I’ve mentioned before and when you’re jungle trekking you get an extra long lunch hour because you just get so tired. You also get very sweaty, and as such it is common practice to hang up your clothes on the line to dry during lunch. The key to this working is that you shake your clothes out before you ever put them back on. Now that being said, Isla and I were rushing to get back after lunch one day and just as I was about to walk onto the road from the lawn, I felt something scratch my butt. Immediately I grabbed onto the offending spot in my pants and was horrified to grab something through them. Something that crunched. I stopped and said to Isla in my best panicked-yet-calm voice, “Oh my God, there’s something in my pants.” As I said this, I looked down and saw two little drops of moisture coming through where the object I was holding was. “I think it’s alive. Isla, you have to put your hand down my pants and get it out.” What’s funny about this situation is the sudden commradery and sense of important duty that comes in these situations. Isla already had her best panicked-yet-calm face on. You know, where you open your eyes real wide and don’t blink whilst keeing your mouth just slightly open, ready to reassure or question at any moment. This is where we giggled a little bit. We were in the middle of a highly public area, talking maybe a little bit loudly because of the panic and while my left hand grasped my butt, my right hand was undoing my pants and Isla was preparing for the worst. We were trying to do this as discreetly as possible, but somehow I feel we were failing. So Isla goes to grab whatever I’m holding through my pants and, of course, she kind of flinches and then I flinch and neighter of us are holding the “thing”. Isla pulls out her hand admist a bunch of “Did you get it?”s and “I think I got it”s only to reveal a cuple of sesame seeds. There’s a moment of silence where I think, “Well, that’s embarassing, I just made her put her hand down my pants and I’ve got a friggin’ hamburger in my pants.” (I later found out Isla thought the same). What follows was this:
Me: “Is that it?”
Isla: “I think so…”
Me: flips back pants to reveal a huge, still writhing cockroach laying on the inside of my back pocket.
Both: lots of screaming.
Onlookers: lots of laughter.
I was so startled by this huge cockroach that I accidentally flipped my pants back closed and lost sight of it, had to awkwardly run back to the rest house, go into the washroom and take off my pants. The gross thing about cockroaches is that if you crush them, their eggs go everywhere. So then I had to wipe a whack of these gross cockroach eggs off my legs. And THEN I had to get Isla to come in and check to make sure they were all gone. All while the cockroach flitted around on the floor. It was all very hilarious and terrifying.
Anyhoo, that’s it for now. Watch out fer them dang roaches.

pictures

Kathryn — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 10:59:08 +0000

Just Malaysia Pictures
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2073438&l=c7434&id=94800734

The “Work” That I Do
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2073439&l=e32a3&id=94800734

Climbing the Mountain
http://dal.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2073440&l=92ebc&id=94800734

stockin’ up

Kathryn — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 10:36:49 +0000

Alright, I just posted three new entries that sum up what I’ve been doing recently. You can find them below. In chronological order they go:
-jungle fever!
-the daily grind
-apparently there is a mountain high enough
That should keep whoever’s reloading the blog 40 times a day (hi mom and dad!) busy for a while. I really doubt that I’ve actually had 1777 different visitors as my counter suggests.

I’ve also uploaded a bunch of pictures to Facebook. But it took me over an hour to do so and intronweb’s expensive ’round these parts so I’ll have to put descriptions up later. The pictures can be found here:
Oh, scratch that, apparently I just spent an hour doing nothing because there are in fact, no images uploaded, even though I watched all of them load painstakingly slow… Aiyee. oh well, I’ll find a way to get them up soon.

apparently there IS a mountain high enough…

Kathryn — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 10:09:56 +0000

On Wednesday we packed our things and set out East across Borneo to the base of Mount Kinabalu, the tallest mountain in Malaysia. I was expecting to see a lot of beautiful scenery during the five hour drive (as it is pretty much across the entire state) but I was really disheartened to drive by seemingly nonstop palm plantations. See, the reason all these orangutans are almost extinct is because the jungles are being clear cut to make way for palm tree plantations to produce palm oil (so be an activist and don’t buy products with palm oil!). In between the plantations there were a lot of little villages, including the hometown of John, our resident guide. He told me that the villages are all self sustained and in the middle of nowhere. When he was growing up there weren’t even any roads that went through it. Just footpaths and rivers. It’s weird to see the way the communities have developed, there’s no middle ground. Everyone lives in these corrugated tin shacks on stilts and they do their laundry by hand and grow their own food but they also have satellite dishes, fancy wardrobes, the newest cell phones and huge SUVs. I’ll have to try to get a picture of one of the markets because the contrast is just so funny. I just feel so touristy when I take pictures in public, especially because everyone’s always looking at you.

Anyhoo, we show up at the foot of this mountain around 5pm and praise the Lord! It was like a perfect windy evening in PEI. Sarah and I were completely ecstatic. Finally, no more profuse sweating! The Brits were a little less enthused, but pssh. It takes two days to climb the mountain so we stayed at this little hotel so we could get up at the crack of dawn to start hiking. Apparently the only people that stay at this hotel are people climbing the mountain and bird watching. I say this because there were only three groups of people there: some elderly British birdwatchers, a bunch of Australian schoolboys (also climbing) and us. Most places in Malaysia seem to only offer dinner at one set time, so wherever you’re staying, you generally meet everyone else staying there as well… Which is a sweet deal because you get to meet everyone and large groups of young women seem to get a lot of free stuff sent their way. In this case: cake. Mmhmm. Okay, so the night was hilarious and no one slept (although we tried valiantly). I thought for sure our last-minute training session would have had us sleeping like babies. Eating cake, chips and chocolate while dubbing over Malay soap operas helps, right? I should have known we were destined for failure.

Alright, Thursday the 12^th and there is a bit of dread hanging over the breakfast table. Even the Aussies’ flamboyant hairstyles are floppy and undone. The big piece of advice everyone keeps giving us is “don’t get too excited” which is clearly a problem for me because I am way too excitable in the dullest of situations. Everyone has vowed to not walk close to me because apparently my overexcitement and giggling is the catching type. I am in for a lonely two days. IRREGARDLESS, we load up and head to Kinabalu Park to buy energy bars (which in Malaysia are just Snickers) and meet our guides. Now, pulling up to meet our guides was one of those moments where I wish my life was a reality TV show so that everyone could experience it, but edited how I saw it. See, this is an 8km climb we’re about to head on. 13,000 feet. Very steep. Very hard. A lot of potential hazards. When you think “mountain guide” you think “burly mountain man that can carry at least four cars on his back”. So when John points out our guides: two pint-sized and goofy grinning guys, you start to feel a bit more dread. Seriously, these guys were shorter than me, definitely weighed less and were already breaking the first rule of not being excited. They were waving and smiling in a way that looked more like they had just won The Price is Right. To make matters worse, as we get out of the car, John points out the top of the mountain (rather, he points up at a 90 degree angle towards nothing but cloud) and says “Oh, that’s not good. I hope you brought a change of clothes.” If I had not been told that there was a huge mountain looming in front of me, I would have had no idea that there even was a mountain there. Nothing but cloud. But still, Sarah and I were pretty excited that it felt like Canada. Even looked like Canada. Windy, green and totally overcast. Home sweet home. So John goes to register us and we do some feeble attempts at stretching (I generally prefer to go into situations like this completely unprepared, because then if it’s hard or it sucks, you never actually know how much harder or suckier it’s gonna get, so it’s just a big, sucky surprise). Fast forward to 8:45am and we’re stocked with Snickers and walking sticks (mine was named Punchy, bonus points to anyone who can tell me why) and heading out onto the path where it, of course, starts raining. Why? Because we’re in a cloud. Oigh. The path is mainly very steep steps made naturally with tree roots and rocks with the occasional man-made wobbly staircase. It’s very twisty and despite the rain, very pretty. There’s a large waterfall and plenty of spots to look out over the countryside on a clear day (I assume, we just see cloud). The main thing I will stress about the climb was that it was very steep. Did I mention that I’m terribly afraid of heights and terribly asthmatic? This whole “climbing a mountain thing” is mainly a way for me to say screw you to both my asthma and vertigo. But I guess I’ve gotta get to the top before the whole “screw you” feeling kicks in, because I was pretty wheezy and apprehensive within the first ten minutes. Occasionally we stop to let some haggard looking folks come down past us or some ridiculously fit trainers run up past us. Every year there’s a race up and down the mountain and the winning time is somewhere around three hours! Then there are these poor guys carrying huge steel beams to God knows what height. As we get to the 2km rest shelter we see our first competitors. (I know, we weren’t in a race… but… we were. …I was. I just get so dang excited by friendly competition!) The competitors are a group of obviously prepared and high tech gear wearing North Koreans. They’re all wearing matching fancy ponchos and under the ponchos pretty big packs. I can’t see what’s in ‘em but I can only assume fabulous gadgets. One lady’s back has opera music coming from it. Like, seriously. These people were prepared. But I figure we can take ‘em. They leave just as we get there after exchanging a few smiles. Just as we get settled the next group of competitors arrive: the Aussie boys. Clearly just as ill-prepared as we are, some are even wearing shorts. But a lot of them obviously share the same spirit Sarah and I do and are laughing and having a good time. (Being ‘excited’, if you will). They head off before us and I am not impressed. I tell our guides, James and Binky, that we must leave immediately and that we’re in a race so we head off. Around kilometer 4 the “sucky surprise” that I spoke of earlier just keeps on surprising. After every step it’s like, “Really? Another one?” Thankfully the path is twisty enough that you never see enough of it ahead of you to be too daunted. Plus, your head is always down so that you don’t take a fall (there may be steps, but they’re not exactly up to par) and James, our guide up front (with Sarah and I always in tow) keeps a steady pace. I swear, they never even break a sweat the entire time. So after a friendly exchange of words at around kilometer 3, we feel it’s safe to say that the Aussies knew we were in a race. “Are you guys going on now, then?” “Yup. See ya at the top… bitches.” “What, is this a race or something?” “…maybe.” So I figured they might step up their game after that, but I was completely unprepared for the attack that came at the kilometre four rest shelter. The North Koreans were still huddled together (it was VERY cold by this point) when we showed up, but upon my entrance one of the men stood up, yelled “WONDAH WOMAAANNNN!!!! You know TAE KWON DOE?!?!” and just started kicking and chopping and Tae Kwon Doeing in my general direction. Well, I say general direction, but he was actually just standing right in front of me. Completely flabbergasted I looked around, the groups had split up a bit so there was only Sarah, James, three Aussies and four other Koreans, all of whom looked greatly amused, if not a little shocked. One of the other Korean men yelled “Stand! Fight!!” so… I stood and said, “Ahh… you know Rocky??” and proceeded to sing the Rocky theme and punch wildly. See, I’d been singing Rocky (very faintly) and shadowboxing (very small-like) at all of the rest shelters so maybe that’s why this man thought I was Wonder Woman. I have doubts that it was due to my obvious physical prowess. So anyhoo, halfway up a mountain in Malaysia I had my first fight. I’m not really sure who won or how it ended, but based on the one photo of the event: he was really lookin’ to kick some ass. So… after I wipe the blood off my cuffs we head out again. [I am really lovin’ the present/past tense thing I’ve got going here.] Blah, blah, blah, life sucks, the mountain is really steep and cold and it starts pouring rain. Not just any rain, it’s monsoon season and we’re 5km up a mountain. Still, I refuse to be any more than five feet behind James, our sprite of a leader and he commands smiling at all times. The mountain is definitely a lot scarier up here. Less trees, more rocky areas and a LOT of wind. I’m half terrified just thinking about walking back down tomorrow and praying that I don’t get altitude sickness, because the last thing I wanna do is have to go down this mountain in this weather in the dark. Finally we make it to our mountain lodge and of course, it is not the mountain lodge we expect. Now… I wasn’t fully expecting a Canadian ski mountain lodge… but I guess I just had nothing else to expect. No roaring fire but impressive nonetheless, considering it was three storeys with electricity, hot showers and a cafeteria. Unimpressive, however, was that it was NOT our lodge. We had to go another 200 metres up this dang mountain in the open, pelting rain to a smaller, UNHEATED lodge, but of course they only told us this when I asked, AFTER we had all “settled”. Even more unimpressive was that I had just taken my “hot shower” (lies!) and put on my only driest outfit: soaked leggings and a large sweater I had to rent for ten ringgits. Everything I had been wearing was soaked and everything inside my bag was too. It was pretty miserable, like coming in after sledding, taking off all your wet clothing and realizing you’re still outside. A word to the wise: if you ever climb Mount Kinabalu, don’t sit next to the door at the lodge. Anyhoo, after a bite to eat and some overpriced plastic poncho purchases, we headed back out. The whole experience has now turned into one of those so-terrible-it’s-hilarious and I’m-laughing-so-hard-I’m-crying-because-I-sort-of-just-want-to-cry things. Best of times, worst of times, y’know? So we get to our lodge and find our rooms. There are nine of us and the rooms are shared with four bunks in each. By the luck of the draw I end up being the odd man out in a room with three strangers/Binky gave me the key to that one. But the other three people apparently didn’t make it up the mountain ‘cause I end up with a sweet bachelor pad (although I don’t realize this until 2am). Sleep on the mountain is pretty unattainable. It was just so cold and you can’t even close the windows all the way. And if you stay in room 9 Aussie kids will knock on the door angrily because they think it’s room 10 and that their friends have locked them out.

Okay, so now! To the exciting part! 2am and there is more knocking on my door, but this time it’s James and Binky giggling. They’ve got dry clothes for me and the whole lodge is a bustle. To summit or not to summit is the big question. There are still two kilometres to the top and the wind has not let up. There are still mini-rivers of rain coming down the mountain. One of the Aussie kids, who so kindly knocked on my door in the middle of the night, is all dressed up with nowhere to go. It has been deemed unsafe by their guides to continue to the top. James and Binky are moreso interested in cracking jokes than telling us straight whether or not we can make it to the top. Anita, one of our group, who is heading to Nepal after Malaysia says she came all this way so she’s going. Sarah and I say, if the guides have to go up the mountain anyway, we might as well go too. I can tell you right now, I’ll never be here again. Plus, there were huge spiders/cockroaches in the room and I was finally feeling warm with excitement and dry clothes. Twenty minutes and one long distance relationship later, Team Summit is ready to go to the top. Now this… this is entirely different than the rest of the mountain. For one, it’s pitch dark. Two, it’s a lot more steep. Three, there is a general feeling of complete disarray and discomfort. There is but one path to the top and about a hundred poor souls, all equipped with headlamps, trying to scramble up it. About five minutes in I declare that I immediately regret my decision. See, the great/terrible thing about James and Binky is that they never take you seriously, so my declaration is met only with giggles and more jokes. I guess I’m still climbing. And it’s true, there’s nowhere else for me to go anyway. There are people behind me still clambering to get to the top and seeing as how there is nothing but a rock wall to my left and a sheer drop to my right, I have nowhere to go but up. That weird human-animal instinct is slightly suffocating. Like being stuck in the middle of a rugby huddle or something. No one’s thinking clearly anymore. Why the hell are we doing this? I admit, I was feeling a little crazed. But I’m sooo scared of heights! It was really scary! Finally we make it to kilometre seven, where there’s a tiny booth with a tiny person in it taking note of who’s going up and whether or not they’ve made it back down yet. I tell him I’ll see him in a couple of minutes. By this point we can only walk about ten steps before we need to rest again. It’s very slow going. Plus, you have to factor in my constant miss-stepping because my vertigo and the cold have caused me to start shaking. I somehow managed to break my camera too (just the screen though, so I can still take pictures… I just won’t know what of until I upload them). You must forgive me if this is a little melodramatic, but it was just completely ridiculous! And you have to see it through my eyes. Plus, my brain has already filed away the whole experience into the “This Didn’t Actually Happen, You Made It Up” section. And I actually was involuntarily shaking. So the wind is knocking us around and you can see straight up for an entire kilometre. It’s just sheer rock. Look down and you can see the lights of two separate cities. Far enough away that I could cover them with my open palm. Although, I have to admit that the moment I sat down I had to lie completely on my back so I couldn’t see down. I was tricked into looking down by Binky but once and that was enough for me. Plus, it was sooo beautiful to look up. You can see the stars every night in Malaysia much better than I’ve ever seen them at home, but on the top of this mountain it was stunning. Complete sensory overload, I say! It made my stomach hurt in a pretty way. But, I mean, my stomach was already wretching just being so damn high up. And how the hell am I gonna get down from here let alone get up to the top? I don’t even WANT to go up. I just wanna go down and it’s way more daunting. After I slip a few more times, James grabs my hand and walks me up the mountain. Yes, you read right: someone had to hold my hand and walk me up the mountain. In fact, someone had to hold my hand on the way down too. Embarassing? Maybe a little. Do I care? Not really. People were dropping like flies all around us. Instead of the single file line that we started in, people are all over the place just scrambling. You have to take those silly steps where you pick out a spot ahead of you where you think it looks semi-stable and then kind of propel yourself forward onto it. Oh my God, just this whole thing is soo funny and ridiculous. I know there are people that climb mountains, as like, a hobby… but really? Just soo ridiculous. Even in my horrified state, I was laughing at how silly the whole thing was. James must have thought I was crazy. But he’d been giggling the whole time anyhow so I’m not too perturbed if he did. Speaking of ridiculous… this is getting a little long, sooo… I somehow make it to 7.7 kilometres and at this point the guides decide that it is unsafe to proceed any further. Which is fine by me. When I fall over because of the wind, that’s okay. When my guides start to fall over, not okay. So Binky takes over and holds my hand all the way back down to our lodge. I don’t know if I finally got over my vertigo or if I was just so thrilled to finally be going down the mountain, but either way, on the way down I was not scared at all. In fact, I was going pretty fast, considering it felt like I was just walking straight down a wall. I was even singing at one point. I was finally able to appreciate the view on the way down as well because for one, I was actually looking at it, and two, the sun was coming up. It was really beautiful and finally a little calm. I was really shocked to see a lot of what I had to walk through to get to 7.7. On the negative side, I totally wrenched my knee and couldn’t bend it for the rest of the way down the mountain (yes, ALL the way down the mountain, it was very slow going). Anyhoo, we made it back to the lodge by 6:30, tried to get some sleep before breakfast at 7:30, but to no avail. At around 8:30 we headed back down the mountain. It was incredibly painful. But since Anita and I had really hurt ourselves and were taking up the rear, the guides had to stay with us and I managed to learn a little more Malay, in between them making fun of me. I’ve really set myself up to be made fun of a lot in Malaysia. Binky also insisted on holding my hand for all the rough parts, which was maybe unnecessary and embarrassing, but I figure I left my pride at the top so whatever. It was also pretty hilarious because at one point near the bottom we met up with Sarah who was having a rough go at it with her legs too and, well, I guess she’ll have to tell you that part. I finally made it down at around 3pm. First one up the mountain, last one down. Got home by 8:30pm. I walked up the stairs to my room, got on my bed, and didn’t leave it for four days. Apparently, if your body is working too hard on the mountain, you can actually get altitude sickness after the fact, once your body has a moment to rest. This is what happened to me. Let me tell ya: not pretty. Five days later and I’m out of bed (only because I refused to stay in it any longer) and I’m still feeling the effects. On the plus side, even though my knee and ankle are both screwy and feel like someone is twisting bubble wrap every time I move them, my muscles had a chance to rest, which none of the other girls’ did. Heehee!

the daily grind

Kathryn — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 10:07:47 +0000

We’ve finally started working! Well, actually, I’m almost done working now. Tomorrow is the final day for me and my group (Sue and Isla) working in the outdoor nursery with the older guys. The “big kids”, if you will. The outdoor nursery is a lot of fun and I would say that the common theme is “the element of surprise”. To set the scene I’ll say that the outdoor nursery is through a big fence, down a jungle path, up some Aztec temple stairs, past a storm demolished office to a semi-demolished set of huge cages. One of the cages is the new office. We have to lock ourselves in because we’re just in the middle of the jungle and the orangs run free ‘round those parts (and not just the orangs, but anything in the jungle). The other cage (the “crib”) still houses the newer big kids. They’re allowed out during the day but are put back at night because the bigger big kids bully them. One, Ankung, is pretty much always in there just because he’s such a shit disturber. My God they’re so smart. The thing about working in the outdoor nursery is that it’s the final stage for these guys before they’re released into the wild so you have to minimize their human contact and try to teach them that humans are bad (it’s a long stage, but it does work). This poses a problem because almost all of them grew up at Sepilok and were cared for by humans. Now, they know to listen to the rangers we work with (only one at a time in the outdoor nursery so that puts us at four humans versus twenty ‘tans) but it’s pretty obvious that the volunteers are just their playthings. They sneak up on you so they can climb you, or steal your waterbottle or put their hands in your pockets or just grab your arm and try to swing off of it. Basically anything a drunk toddler would do. That includes puking all over the place, even their own arms, and then slurping it back up. Eww I know. But part of their digestive system is in their necks (which is why they have fatty fat necks, some flappier than others) so they eat, regurgitate it and repeat until it’s watery enough to go through the first digestive stage. It’s actually quite endearing after a while. But never really normal. It stills makes the rangers giggle. Anyhoo, we now know all of the orangutans by name. Some of them have such distinct features too. Like, Britt. Let me prelude what she looks like with her personality: Britt is a bitch. She is a huge jerk. She beats up every orangutan she can find. She terrorizes the littler ones by sneaking up on them in their “crib” and then latching onto them and smashing them up against the bars. She also terrorizes us by swinging onto our “office” door and screaming and shaking it. But she’s also funny in the way that all orangutans and drunk toddlers are, even when they’re lippy. But mainly she’s just a jerk. But physically, she looks like the characteristic villain in a cartoon. She had an accident a year or so ago that has caused permanent swelling in her right eye so she’s always glaring and squinting. Funny. Besides all the orangutans we also have to worry about macaques. The macaques show up at all of the orangutan feedings and they show up in packs. If the orangutans are drunk toddlers then the macaques are cracked out 45-year-olds stuck in tiny trapeze swingers’ bodies looking for their next hit. This means they swing and jump and scream (like humans) and fight each other. They told us not to look them in the eye, but this proves difficult when you’re surrounded by 30 or so of them. The rangers call them bandits because they’re always stealing the bananas. So we’ve started calling them pencuris, which is robber in Malay. Anyhoo, the average day in the outdoor nursery consists of:

7:00am – wake up, shower, breakfast

8:00am – get bananas from the clinic and head up to the outdoor nursery

8:15am – sit around

8:30am – take bananas (pisang) and milk (susu) through the jungle to a feeding platform and start calling the orangutans (they totally answer to their names, just like drunk toddlers)

9:00am – head back to the “office” and sit around (it’s very hot so after any sort of physical activity, you generally sit for a bit)

Funny story: The word for hot is panas and the word for pineapples is nanas. So whenever I was making idle chit chat with local people they would ask how I like it and I would of course say, “Oh it’s very beautiful, but it’s SOO hot!” and fan myself and of course, I would say this is in my best Malaynglish so what I was actually doing was fanning myself and saying “it’s SOO pineapples!” and NO ONE told me! Pretty funny in retrospect, I made a fool of myself for at least twenty different people and they all just smiled politely.
9:15am – sweep the stairs and cage of leaves and poo

9:45am – bring milk and bananas through the jungle to the tourist feeding platform and call the orangutans (but stop calling for them once you’re in earshot of the tourists so it’s more exciting when they show up swinging on the ropes. there’s a huge ropeway all through the jungle so the smaller guys don’t get lost in the jungle before they’re ready)

10:00am – sit around “backstage” and watch the feeding (occasionally get accosted by leeches, macaques, poisonous snakes and rangers with sticks)

10:45am – back to the office to fill out paperwork and attendance for the orangutans

11:00am – lunch and shower

2:30pm – bring bananas to office and then straight to tourist platform for the afternoon feeding

3:30pm – back to the office for paperwork and attendance

4:00pm – end of day

Pretty simple but very fun and we definitely learned a lot of Malay from the rangers. And whenever it seemed like there was nothing left for us to do, someone would radio our ranger with something awesome to do. For example, on the second day they had to dart a rehabilitated dominant male that had wandered back to Sepilok following a mate and stayed for the food. He was starting to interfere with the younger orangutans and was just plain terrifying. He would only be good for one of the rangers, Jomius. So they darted him so they could re-release him into the wild, but he was soo heavy that they needed to put him in a wheelbarrow so they sent the three of us down with it. We figured we’d be pretty far away from the action but when we showed up Mr. G (the dominant male) was still swinging on the rope and being terrifying, already darted. So we got to watch the whole thing go down and then help move him and carry him. I got to touch his flanges! And he was still awake and watching me! Aieek! Very fun. Every time you sort of stepped back like, “this isn’t my place, I don’t wanna be in the way” they would wave you back in and have you do something. That was also the day I got my nickname, so if you’re ever at Sepilok just ask for Bodybuilder. Other than that we got to go on a lot of “rescue missions” to get the younger ‘tans when they wandered onto the platform or boardwalk where the tourists walk. We also had some very close encounters with some huge poisonous snakes (I’m told they’re called Black Mombas or something) and some huge wild orangs.

Anyhoo, the outdoor nursery was definitely a good time.

jungle fever! (boolooloop boolooloop)

Kathryn — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 10:04:56 +0000

So… first thing’s first. We went from our beautiful five star resort in Tuaran back through Kota Kinabalu to the airport (where I easily took many pointy objects and large bottles of unlabelled liquid through customs and security) and then boarded our 17 minute flight. Whew, what a hassle that was. Sidenote: mom has questioned my use of the word “whitey” when used to describe people of Caucasian descent, so in true Malay they will now be called “Orang puthi” and subsequently, “Whitey Watch” will hereby be referred to as “Outrageous Orang Puthi Something Clever”.
So we arrive at the airport with no real direction on what to do and decide it would be best to just use the ol’ “hug a tree” advice and just sit around, hoping someone will come get us. We are rescued after a couple funny-awkward moments and are taken to the Sepilok Rest House, our accommodations for the next two months. The Rest House is pretty awesome. It’s a very open two-storey hostel run by four local twenty-somethings (Amoy, Aman, George and Carlos). The twelve of us volunteers share the five second-floor rooms. I’m sharing a room with the two Alices (Team AlleyKat!), one from North Carolina and one from Manchester. The Rest House is right next to the entrance to the Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre and on the edge of the jungle (our balcony is about twenty feet from the trees). So, our room has…

-three beds

-two huge windows

-a huge double door onto the (wrap) balcony

-a desk with mirror

-a wardrobe (have yet to find Narnia)

-an air conditioner (that works)

-a washroom (complete with hot shower, working toilet, sink and two loofas)
-high ceilings
After we settled in we went for our first look at the orangutans! As tourists we went to watch the afternoon feeding which was pretty exciting. I had no idea that so many people show up to the middle of nowhere each day to see these little guys! At least a hundred at each feeding (10am and 3pm). The ‘tans put on a good show just climbing things and eating but I was kind of more interested in the days ahead when I would be working hands on with them. Then we went by the indoor nursery and saw more of the baby orangutans and then to watch a documentary made about the centre.
The next day we went on a tour of Sandakan, the closest town, about twenty minutes away. First stop was the Crocodile Farm. I don’t really know what to say about the farm except that it made my heart hurt and my face scrunch. I took a video so maybe I’ll try upload it on here whenever I find some wireless internet. We were taken there to see what many of the locals think of “conservation”. Basically that if it’s fed then it’s alive and if it’s alive it’s being conserved. Just no chance for any of these animals to ever go back into the wild.
Second we went to this really beautiful WWII memorial about a POW camp and the Death Marches that took place there. Only six survivors out of thousands were left to tell the story. It’s incredible what people can get away with if there’s no one left to speak. Aiya… this world is ridiculous. The rest of the tour comprised of a gargantuan Chinese temple overlooking the town and sea from a high hilltop, a Chinese graveyard, one of the gypsy water villages, an English Tea Room and the market. Lots of stares, but really friendly vibes too.

drunk toddlers

Kathryn — Sun, 01 Jul 2007 08:52:23 +0000

So… not much chance of getting to use the internet recently. Happy Canada Day! In Malaysia we’re celebrating by playing Joel Plaskett, singing the national anthem, making everyone dress in red and white and going to eat at Pizza Hut.

Anyhoo, I’m currently in this terrible place called the Cyber City Cafe which is just a dim room with plenty of people playing incredibly loud video games and yelling at each other across the room. After getting through my emails I doubt I can spend much more time here. I will type up a big blog on my laptop in the rest house and post it next time I find some wireless internet.

But in short, the orangutans are amazing. They’re hilarious as well. They are always playing and act and move a lot like toddlers in varying stages of intoxication.

Also, there is no poo to be shoveled. I’m sorry to disappoint. Just a lot of hose sprayin’ and sweepin’. And shirts to be washed after those crazy drunk toddler orangutans poo and pee on you.

g.i. babe

Kathryn — Tue, 26 Jun 2007 13:53:54 +0000

So on Friday we went on a mission to find a hairdresser. It is just sooo hot here and hair is not really a top priority for me so I figured I might as well just shave it again. It did not take long to find a hair salon (or saloon, as it were), all we had to do was ask for directions and then we were being led by the hand and chatted to. Everyone here is so friendly. Asking to have my head shaved definitely invoked a lot of wide-eyes, giggling and ‘tsk’s from the women in the shop. A girl named Yao Ling did it for me and as she said, I’m the “only and last” girl in Malaysia to have a shaved head. Oh well. Works for me.
After the haircut we headed over to Katsam Jetty where I did my first barter! It went a little something like this:
“Hello! I take you to island for one hundred ringgits!”
“I heard you could go for ten…”
“…seventeen! Seventeen ringgits!”
Impressed? I thought so. Nothin’ but business. …yup. There are five islands that you can go to, but we chose Mamutik because it’s the teeniest and we heard there would be much less people there. We had our own little part of the beach all to ourselves. The snorkeling there was amazing, but my poor translucent skin turned a beautiful shade of red.
The next day we checked out of our hostel in ScaryTown and into the Tang Dynasty/Poopsty Hotel in Kota Kinabalu to meet up with the other girls. There are 12 of us in all (one Aussie, one American, eight Brits and us two Canadians) and they’re all pretty fabulous. Different ages and lives completely, although four of us are in theatre. Go figure. To get better acquainted we went to dinner at some Italian restaurant on the waterfront. Seriously. I’ve had pizza thrice since arriving in Malaysia and I’ve been here just under a week. Anyhoo, after dinner most of the girls went back to the hotel because they were pretty jetlagged but Sarah, myself and Anita walked all along the waterfront to check out the Filipino market, which is not really a touristy spot. The market was incredibly bustling and huge and we were apparently the most interesting things in it. A lot of people trying to get our attention with the usual tactics, but it was still pretty comfortable, although occasionally embarrassing. Nothing like being called “G.I. Babe” in front of a gaggle of giggling onlookers to really make you feel at home (although the comment was followed with a friendly exhange of words followed by a lot more laughter).
On Monday we were checked out of the Dynasty and into the Rasa Ria Five Star Resort. It’s absolutely ridiculous. We spend two nights here now for free because part of the placement is spent working here in their Nature Reserve for six days. What better way to ease you into living in the jungle for two months than putting you up in an all-inclusive resort? Today, Tuesday, we started off the day with our very first jungle trek! Ayigh. Trekking in the tropics is a very strenuous activity. It’s just sooo hot. But it was a great trek and apparently parts of the jungles of Malaysia look an awful lot like the forests of Cole Harbour. Tonight we got to watch a traditional Malaysian ceremony. Although I don’t know how accurate it was… Afterwards one of the guys in the ceremony wanted contestants for a “traditional Malaysian IQ test” and no one was volunteering so I went up (it’s not like I know anyone here, right?). A couple of other people joined me after a while and we were given these stick puzzle thingies with string tied up in them and were told to see who could get it off first. Apparently, the puzzle was given to young men wishing to marry by the father of the bride-to-be and they could only be wed if he solved it. Surprisingly, I was the first (and only) to solve it, thereby winning the title of “Smartest Person in Borneo”/50% off one drink at the Sampan Bar. I also managed to get the string back on and off again, which is no small feat. I am hereby able to marry, divorce and marry again in the state of Sabah. Awesome.
Anyhoo, I know this is a shoddy update but I’m sooo tired. We finally fly to Sandakan tomorrow and check in to our jungle hut(!) so this may the last update for a while.
I hope all is well back home. Feel free to send us updates as well.

PS. I uploaded a couple more pictures. Not many though.