Monday, November 24, 2008

A long-awaited update from the field

So much has happened in the last few months, and a lot of it unfortunate, but I will try to relate to you some of the more recent events.

Since being diagnosed with melanoma last November (a year ago now), my dad has been undergoing treatments to try to target and stop this unpredictable and damnable cancer. The first attempt at immunotherapy did not work, and the cancer reappeared in other areas of is body. Now they are trying a form of chemotherapy. There is a lot of waiting to see if the next treatment works. But my parents are kind of amazing; they really seem able to just keep living and enjoying life because what is the use of constantly dwelling on the depressing stuff. The one major problem for me with this healthy strategy is that I am thousands of miles away and I cannot share in this living business with the people I love.

Data collection is still filled with difficulties and I would literally pay for some breaks. I have had a run of particularly rough days (not finding groups, dealing with less than stellar assistants, finding myself 300+ m out of the trail system – meaning there are only trails made by passing elephants and by myself when I manually move vegetation and scamper in and out of steep rivers- and with the wrong group) this last week and took Luca up on his suggestion to go out of the forest a few days earlier than planned. I already had a nice swim in the ocean late this afternoon and am currently drinking some really fabulous local “wine” (the ingredients include tomatoes and papaya, so you can imagine what it tastes like). But, hey it does still have alcohol in it.

I am really missing Thanksgiving this year. It is my favorite holiday, but because the concept of time seems to disappear in the forest, it is hard to believe that it is already the end of November. Everyone should really remember not to take all of the food and football for granted. Just think of me eating my three eggs a day like usual. I am planning on trying out for the semi-professional women’s football team in Austin when I get back. Even if I do not make the team I still want to give it a try. Plus, I think that I will definitely be tough enough for that sport by the time I finish up here. So, I will try to make up for all the lost American sports time when I get the chance.

Death seems to be haunting me at the moment. I took care of a baby giant squirrel (scientific name: Ratufa bicolor) that I found during a storm one day after she fell out of her nest and was giving loud distress calls. I just could not leave her there to drwon in a puddle or be gobbled up by some lazy predator. She seemed to be doing well and was gaining weight during the first week or so. Then Luca and I (who were really like new parents who have to learn everything from trial and error, and who immediately take on the stereotypical gender roles with the Ratufa always shitting and peeing on me and me always preparing the food, while the “dad” got to rough-house with her and the other “fun” stuff) went out of the forest for a few days, and when we returned she seemed weaker and to be eating less. When I weighed her she had lost all of the weight that she had gained the previous week. We tried to do what we could to force her to eat, but she got worse over the next 2 or 3 days. There was even a vet in camp working with a team of cat researchers, but he seemed sort of clueless as to how to help and less concerned than I would expect. Because she slept literally inside of my sarong with me every night, I was already incredibly attached to the squirrel. On the third night she was really struggling and did not eat at all. I woke up at around 5 in the morning and knew that she was going. I threw on some clothes so as not to offend the Indonesians in camp and ran to Luca’s room with her in my hands gasping for breath once every 30 seconds or so. I knocked on his door and woke him up, screaming something like “she’s dying.” I held her and stroked her for the next 20 minutes or so until she stopped breathing. At one point the stupid vet woke up to use the facilities located below Luca’s room. Luca said “she is dying or already dead” to the guy and he just shrugged and said “sorry” in a non-caring way, and then went to pee. After she stopped breathing I tried CPR on her but her little lungs only inflated and she did not respond. I was already crying quietly by this time, but really trying to hold myself together. Luca did not cry but he really took it badly as well. Later that day when he heard the same species calling in the forest he described his reaction like being stabbed in an already-opened wound. We had failed and did not really know exactly why. I could not really talk much at this point because I knew that I would start crying audibly if I opened my mouth and this loss of control would tear down all of my emotional walls. We had to bury her quickly because in the forest things start decomposing rapidly, plus as Luca pointed out and I knew was true but still tough, she was just a body at this point. In selecting a spot, the assistants suggested we bury her where all the other failed animal rescues went, which really tore me up, particularly because of how they said it: “here is the argus peasant, the deer, the baby elephant, etc, so let’s just throw her on top like a mass grave and forget about it.” Or at least that is how I interpreted it. Within minutes of her burial they then went to slit the throats of the chickens to cook for dinner, which I do not eat and still really hate to see. Death is just much more everyday and unshocking here. Meanwhile, I think that I grieved more for that squirrel than any pet or person in my life. I think that this may also have something to do with the fact that when you work in the forest all day for months and months you really cling to the little things, and something alive, warm and breathing is more real. Luca and I literally celebrate when the ATM’s function to give us our own money or when there are some canned sardines or potatoes to eat. Hell, we even look forward to coming out to our crappy hotel for a few days where we can sleep past 6 am, use hot water, and watch miserably bad films usually starring Steven Segal (my plan for tomorrow night). At least I had Luca to be there with me when the Ratufa died, but I desperately needed someone to hold me or even fucking touch me at that moment and he did not. I am trying to prepare myself for Luca’s departure in March, but it is really going to kill me to see him go.

This must all sound pretty desperate, but then (it gets worse) two weeks ago when the same vet that pissed me off was leaving the forest, he drowned trying to cross the flooded river with the station manager. It still is not fully clear how this happened and whether he really could swim or not. He told the manager (Opo) twice on the banks of the rain-swollen river that he could swim before starting to cross. Then, only a couple of meters from the shore (before it was deep enough to swim) he started struggling and did not even try to swim or use his pack to float. Opo was still very close-by and immediately went to him, but when he reached the pack the vet was already gone and did not resurface. There was an immediate search by police, WCS people, park officials, researchers, and local people. I went to help out the next morning, swimming and searching under debris for a body. Although, I gave up pretty quickly since I did feel like much of a help. On the third day his body finally emerged from a tree-fall. I still am struggling to accept that it really happened. We cross that river every time we go in and out of the forest, and I never really felt that my life was in peril. Now, like earlier today, we are overly cautious, but it all seems ridiculous that a man died that way. When I told my parents about it they asked if I could wait until the rainy season was over to go out and just stay in until then. This is of course absurd seeing how the rains stop in February (maybe). I promise to be as careful as I can, but I still have to keep up with my research schedule.

On a more positive note, I went to see the volcano Krakatoa (really Anak Krakatoa “the child of Krakatoa”) with Luca and a visiting friend of his. It was an interesting experience and my first time on a volcano. I kept thinking that it was like an alien planet, completely desolate with sulfurous fumes and strange but beautiful rocks. I climbed part of the way up the crater, but Luca of course went to the very top and looked into the mouth of the volcano. I am sorry I did not go, but I also have the sense to know that, taking safety and time into account, it is better that I did not. The wind, even as high as I ventured, was tremendously powerful. I posted some pictures of the area and the poor departed Ratufa below.

I wish everyone a happy thanksgiving and wish that I could be there to bake you all pies and just be near you all. I will try eat something other than eggs and rice while I am out and call it Thanksgiving supper.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Taking the "pisang" way out

So I thought that some of you might enjoy this story from a couple of weeks ago.



There are a number of choices available when I need to get from the forest to Kota Agung: super crappy bus, a rumured nicer bus, motor bike, the rare treat of a WCS car going out, or the wild card option of accepting a ride from whatever contraption passes your way.



When I came out last time I guess I was feeling inspired and a little reckless. Usually when random guys in random trucks offer me rides and try to chat me up as I walk towards the village (Way Heni) and bus stop, I only pause long enough to respond with minimalist "ke sana"s (roughly - I am going that way). But this time when a guy driving a banana ("pisang" whence title for post) truck seemed to take a pity on a clearly vulnerable massive, white woman walking alone out of the forest, I thought "What the hell, why not? Take the banana truck Alice and save yourself $3 and the discomforts of the bus." So, I hopped aboard and, after they finished loading up, we started off down the mountain. Of course as it turned out they were eventually going to Kota Agung, but not until later that night, so I would have to take a different bus once we got to the bottom of the mountain (more like a range of ridges but mountain sounds better). But still I would only have to pay $1 and it wold probably be faster, right. Well, not so much seeing as we first had to make a couple more banana-loading stops (Of course I was determined to help - there is a sort of tossing motion required for getting the giant stalks of bananas on top of the load in case you are interested or if anyone ever puts a gun to your head and says "load the bananas or die," which must have made for an interesting scene for the neighbors). After finally loading up two trucks, a larger one carrying up to 17 tons and our smaller one carrying about 5 tons, we started off. Due to steep inclines and tricky turns, it ended up being a slow procession. Often we would have to stop and wait behind while the larger truck made a pondorous climb and then signaled a honk some way ahead to give the all-clear. I also found myself getting curiously sleepy whenever we were driving close behind the 17-tons of bananas. While it is not uncommon for me to get tired during long drives, this seemed odd, more like uncontrollable passing out. I finally connected this sudden tiredness with the billows of pollution the larger truck was giving off in regular intervals. I was being semi-asphixiated by the carbon-monoxide and then releaved each time we got a little distance between the two trucks. I am sure that my brain cells are still thanking me for this. Still it may have been worth the adventure, free bananas, and (don't forget) $1 I saved. I also got to Kota Agung at least an hour later than the normal, crappy bus would have deposited me.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

An angry little rant from the forest

So I have had a rough couple of weeks due to near abandonment by my assistants (1 quit, 1 never showed up for work, 1 has a sick wife - ok I can understand this because I am not a total bitch, and 1 kind of sucks in the forest - I mean even I am faster than him and have to teach him the local plant names). The other day drove me to such a frustrated state that I stopped mid-trail to write an angry composistion because I had no one to rant to except myself and my data book. Well, thanks to the beauty of today's technology and my ability to read even my crappiest and most emotionally-driven handwriting, I can now share this word-for-word with all of my friends and family, and anyone else who might stumble upon my blog from the general human populous.

“There is nothing better than starting your day at -200, -100 m (i.e., “Hell”), finding the gibbons, cutting trails up hills of rattan and impenetrable lianas with mini Swiss Army Knife scissors, knowing that there is no trail at the top, losing the gibbons as soon as they see you and run like hell, and then losing yourself and having to compass you way out to finally realize that your absentee assistant is following the wrong group after conveniently forgetting the plan you made the day before!” (July 2, 2008 roughly 9:30 am)

P.s. I am going to buy my very own "parang" (traditional machete) before returning to the forest, so that I can cut trails like a professional.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

More night visitors

After some more fascinating and at times intimidating night visitors to the station I thought I should share some photographic evidence with my friends and family. See below.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

More new pictures posted

Hi all,

I just posted a few more new pictures from the forest, including couple commemorating my minor disasters (i.e., falling in a pool of water before 7 am and surviving a tree limb that fell 40 plus meters into my metal-roofed house at 3 am and almost convinced me that I was about to die). There is also one with three of my five assistants.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

New pictures posted

I finally bought a new computer yesterday, so I can both get back to work on report writing and post some new pictures from the field. Now everyone can get a good look at all the fun inhabitants of my room and the lovely bastard gibbons that have been making my life difficult over the last few months. Enjoy.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

In Kota Agung: April 12, 2008 (Rat diagnostics)

Concerning the computer, I ran every diagnostic I could find yesterday (It took hours.) and nothing failed. But I am still having trouble switching the computer on. I think that the problem may be the power button itself. If the contact is a bit off or something that could explain the problem. I may open up the top of my computer once I get back to the forest. It should be fun. Maybe a really tiny rat crawled under there and died.

You know the rats in my room actually stole one of my sarongs one night. I made the mistake of turning off the lights when I went down to eat and in that very brief window they had dragged it across the floor and very tightly pulled it into the bottom of the only piece of furniture (other than my bed) in the room. I already no that they nest in there and run in and out of the bottom of it, which is really convenient since I cannot use it to store anything. I do use the top surface, but have fully abandoned the rest (and now the sarong too) to them. I also have managed to avoid opening the bottom doors, lest I have to see what is inside. I am pretty sure that my sarong may result in new rat progeny. They later tried to steal a shirt to add to the nest's comfort, but I decided to draw a line and take it back. I do have a giant plastic box to keep all of my stuff, but I may have to request a new cabinet or repairs on the old one. You know you are living in the forest when this is all normal. When the generator went down for a few days and the rats got a few hours in the dark alone they really tried to take over. I actually tripped over one on its desperate way out when I came back to get something from my room.

In Bandar Lampung: April 11, 2008 (an Easter bunny in April)

So safe to say I did finally get to the forest after 3 weeks of buraucratic hell. As much as I hoped for some peace and quiet and hard work, the problems are still coming at me fast and furious.

To be brief, the agile gibbons still are not habituated, I am overwhelmed/bored by the leaf monkeys, and my friend Luca got seriously sick with Dengue fever. All very nice to kick off my fieldwork. Also, my dehydrator for drying food samples was zapped when the generator broke, so I will have to either fix it or construct some sort of drying device myself. Still working on this. Of course, I cannot really start my study until all of the groups are habituated so there is time. :/

I am afraid that I am going to be one of those people who is in the field for 3 years to get a good 11-12 months of data. I think my advisor will also kill me for this with some sort of Jedi/hyper-organized German mind trick. Of course there is also the problem of money, which I do not have (at the moment) to even cover 12 months right now. Even if I get the Leakey grant it is only another $ 9,500 or so. Oh, and did I mention that the assistants all approached Luca and me one evening to say they wanted a raise. Fantastic. I sure would like a raise too. Maybe I should just declare bankruptcy and stop paying my credit card bills. Any suggestions? I have already considered selling organs, but my giant ones would never fit in these tiny Indonesian bodies. There is of course also the option of charging for all of the "photos with white people" that people insist upon wherever I go. Last night Luca and I were eating dinner and first two guys insisted one taking pictures (on a camera phone) posed with each of us separately. Then after about 10 minutes they brought the super sweaty and possibly in need of a change baby. They just plopped the thing in my lap and I had to hold it for several photo attempts while they tried to get its attention to look at the camera. Am I Santa, the Easter bunny at the mall, or maybe this is Disney land? I mean seriously I might as well be wearing a giant fluffy costume.

Oh and for some more bad news, my computer completely died about a week ago. I was working on it one evening and it just went black with no warning, no blue-screened error message, no nothing. After that it could not even turn on. I think that this is an electrical problem caused by unstable power from the generator. I came out of the forest the other day and when I tried turning my computer on again in the hotel it started up like normal. I did not lose any data and everything seems to be working. This could also be related to humidity and or temperature, but I keep my computer in a dry box. I bought a 5 kg surge protector today in hopes of avoiding any further problems, but we will see. It should be fun carrying back into the forest.

In Lampung: Mar 13, 2008 (Immigration woes part 2)

I have been waiting for a fax for the last three days to be sent from WCS at Bogor to immigration here. They want a copy of the id card and signed letter from Ibu Yani (my scientific counterpart) saying that she is my sponsor. But, really a different office (Ristek) is supposed to be my sponsor for immigration purposes. Of course, when the immigration officer called that office they said oh no we are not her sponsor, it is Ibu Yani and Universitas Indonesia. Everyday I return to immigration and wait there for several hours, but still this fax has not come. Then, today I discovered that WCS staff had tried to send it, but it could not go through seeing as the power and therefore fax machine is not functional at immigration today. Grrrrr. It is really fitting that to describe something not working or not on you say that it is "mati," which means "dead," because I feel like I have been stopped dead in my tracks. I have already been here (Lampung) for a week and made almost no progress at all.

I exerted a lot of energy today and got absolutely nothing out of it, so I am a bit frustrated at the moment. I spent the morning (about 3 hours plus part of yesterday) riding Angkots (little, converted minivans used for cheap public transportation across Indonesia that are really more like clown cars for a giant American like me) from bank to bank trying to exchange my travelers checks for cash. When I finally found one that would do it, they said that they would have to copy and examine several pages from my passport. I was prepared with photocopies of my passport and visa, as well as three other forms of id, but this just was not good enough. I would have been happy to let them make copies from my original passport, but of course immigration still has it, so no dice. I hoped to finish with immigration today and retrieve my passport, but as I already explained that too was unsuccessful. I know that there is nothing else I can do to speed this up, but I really hate losing a month of my allotted 12 just hanging out in offices and hotel rooms.

In Lampung: Mar 10, 2008 (immigration woes)

I had a jolly good time at immigration today. I had to fill out all of these forms (which of course I had to buy...and the spiffy folder they came in), but then they turned out to be 6 different versions of the same thing, some in Indonesian and some in English. I decided to fill them all out. It really made no sense to write my name, passport info, visa info, birth date and place, nationality over and over again, but of course I did it anyway. Then the immigration officer, who had no idea that there was a huge national park in his province or that orangutans had not lived there for more than 10,000 years, insisted that my sponsor (the head of the research office in Jakarta) had to be there with me to sign this official letter. (It is official only when it has the special government stamp that of course I get to provide.) I explained that I had a letter in lieu of this other one from my sponsor’s office and that obviously he cannot come to the local immigration in Lampung office since he works in Jakarta. This partially worked and he agreed to call for confirmation and then, maybe, fax the letter to my sponsor to sign. They also went ahead and photographed me (on a velvety red background) and fingerprinted me. The fingerprinting was ridiculously thorough. I have never been arrested, but I did not know it would be quite so strange to have someone grasp your hand and firmly roll each inky digit across the paper and then redip your whole hand and slap that down on the paper as well. They then repeated with my left hand. It was like being born all over again, but in Indonesia. Actually, I think it is to have a record of me in case I become a criminal or die or something. The officer also mentioned something about the embassy, so maybe (in theory) they send them a copy. (They made two.) I also had to fill out my personal information on the other side of each fingerprinting card. I thought it was interesting that they asked for each of my parent's name, address, and date of birth, but then only asked for my wife's information, as though a female could not possibly be applying to live here alone. Well, at the end of all that I still have the pleasure of returning tomorrow in hopes of getting to pay around $70 and getting my KITAS (stay permit) for this year. Then, I just have to go to the governor's office and maybe the local police as well for more fun. Then there is the head of the parks office just outside the forest before I can finally escape.

In Jakarta: Mar 5, 2008 (hidden razors)

Yes, things are looking up here. I just (finally) finished the last step in the Jakarta permits procedure. Everything looks good; it says that I can live in the park until Feb. 25th 2009, which is also when I will have to leave Indonesia anyhow. I also chatted with some of the noisy nurses the other night when the power went out. They were very excited that I could speak Indonesian and all wanted me to come visit them in their hometown in South Sulawesi. They are all midwives as it turns out, here to do a 2 week class on becoming better midwives. I also managed to cut my finger open when I was rummaging through my bag in the dark, trying to find my flashlight by feel. Instead I found an open razor. Nothing serious of course, but still convenient.

In Jakarta: Mar 4, 2008 (Tiny X-large)

I went back to the fun forestry office today. Since they told me on Friday that getting my SIMAKSI on Friday "tidak bisa" (not possible) getting it on Monday "tidak bisa" and getting it today was "mungkin" (maybe) possible, I figured I could give it a shot. At least they seemed happier to see me today, although they had completely forgotten ever seeing me last week. We chatted pleasantly for a while and they commented on how "cantik" I was not to be married and not to have a thousand kids. But then they said that the boss would be in a meeting for an indeterminately long time (maybe 8:00 am, no 9:00 am until 5:00 pm), so it seemed hopeless to wait. I sucked it up and decided to return first thing in the morning. This of course probably destroys my chances to leave for Lampung tomorrow and, in turn to go to Kota Agung this weekend. It looks like it might be almost another week before I see forest. By then I will probably forgotten what the hell I came here for anyway. Nothing new...probably all part of their master plan.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the laundry service has decided to hold my dirty clothes hostage. I gave them to the homestay staff 5 or 6 days ago, but only after a special request I may get them by tomorrow morning. Maybe they were mesmerized by the enormity of my pants. In any case, I broke down and tried to shop for clothes yesterday. (I had been wearing the same thing for a few days and was less than flowery.) I soon discovered that Large = X-small and X-large = small, so if you lose a fee pounds you might be able to squeeze into a large. I finally found some X-large shirts that were more like mediums and made of stretchy enough cotton that I could make them work. They are very snazzy fake Polo shirts. I bought two to wear with my patched field pants, a nice affect I am sure you can imagine. I am pretty sure that I look like a German tourist now. I also realized that most of the westerners that I see in Indonesia are pretty damn homely, like the rejects of Europe. Maybe they figure they have a better chance with a nice, young Indonesian man or woman desperate for children with large noses and pasty skin.

In Jakarta: Mar. 3, 2008 (sickness and demons)

I spent the weekend feeling lousy. I must have eaten something that my body decided to reject under the label of "not food...proceed with caution." You know I have been sick at least once every time I have been to Indonesia. But really what would week one in Jakarta be without a touch of dysentary. I am taking the last of my Cipro (expired of course), so I should be fine. I basically just did not eat anything for 24 hours and tried to ignore the insanely loud group of female nurses staying at the old homestay over the weekend. They very cordially woke me up this morning with riotous giggling and group showering (I think) at 5 am. One of them also walked into my room the other day (I thought the door was locked but these old locks are tricky) when I was in a let's just say akward position over the toilet. Lovely. I am hoping that I will get my clothes back later tonight. I gave them to the cleaning lady on Thursday, but I did not realize it would be so long until I got them back. I have nothing clean left and would rather avoid the whole "do you have anything big enough to fit giants here" conversation at the department store. At least I am starting to really understand central Jakarta.

I did go to the Javanese theater though on Saturday. It was pretty darn cool, but longer than I expected (almost 4 hours) and my contacts did not appreciate the smoke. Also, the whole thing was in high Javanese, so I could not understand the words. I liked the dancing best, especially the demons (which looked like Rastafarian mandrills) and hanuman the white monkey.

In Jakarta: Feb. 28, 2008 (Of movie theaters and Big Macs)

I met with Fitri at the super fancy MacDonald’s yesterday. It was very nice to see her face to face after all of this time. We get along very well and we made lots of possible plans for the future. I did nearly drown (don't worry, not really) on the way there though. It has been raining like crazy here every afternoon, bur I am too determined and cheap to take a taxi when I can walk somewhere. Of course when we were scheduled to meet it was raining the hardest yet, but I had to go since she had a letter for me to give to forestry and she was leaving for Malaysia the next day. I started out alright, pants rolled up, dodging the deepest puddles and hoping not to get drenched by passing cars on a way-too narrow street. But then I started running out of non-flooded options. I was proud to make one slightly harrowing leap over a drainage canal. Eventually a man running as food stall flagged me down and kindly forced me to wait for the rain to stop and to drink some (te manis) hot sweet tea. He would not even let me pay and we chatted for a while, so it was not awkward.

The new research permit office does live up to the old one's standards. In some ways they have exceeded them; instead of asking for copies they just scan everything, they email promptly, and everyone is young and happy (at least for the moment). They also gave me a new and very spiffy research permit ID with (yes that's right) a lovely red-background photo of myself. The only problem I have had is that the boss was not in until 2 pm on Tuesday, so I lost a precious day from the week and have to get an extension from immigration since I will not make it to Lampung in the 7 days they gave me at the airport. I was hoping to finish up at PHKA on Monday, but when I dropped everything off yesterday they said "maybe Tuesday" and (of course) to call. They also refused to write down my number. I am pretty sure that it ticks them off even more when you know their system and have everything ready. That is probably how more steps are added. It is clearly an evolutionary arms race...what do you think, is there a paper here?

At the immigration office (to which the taxi driver had to stop and ask for directions 4 times), I saw another westerner and felt that I had to stop and say hi. He was a nice cultural anthropologist from Stanford named Bart. We shared a taxi and talked anthropological theory on the way back to central Jakarta. We both had not eaten lunch yet, so we went to a noodle place in the super fancy Plaza Indonesia mall. He felt it was his duty to show me around. We looked at the movie theater, which was pretty crazy. There are too levels, like classes on planes. The fancier "Prestige" class has its own special entrance, fully reclining leather seats with massage and center compartments with blankets, and a full bar. The cheaper (about $2.80 USD) theaters also have large reclining seats with tons of leg room and a bigger screen and better sound than in the US. Of course, I did not actually watch a movie there, but the tour was interesting. I am more of a pirated DVDs on the street kind of girl.

My arrival: Feb. 26 - 27 2008

Note: Sorry to post these so late, but I am trying to catch up and to be fair my computer has been dead for the past week.

I made it safely to Jakarta yesterday. I decided to stay in a different home stay in central Jakarta, but still nearby Jalan Jaksa. It is much quieter and, amazingly enough, only a short walk from the new research permit office. Heather will understand that this is a nice improvement from the old LIPI office, and it saves me a taxi trip. Also, it is the old home of the governor of Jakarta, which makes it an interesting place to stay, full of old photos and paintings of the family, intricate Javan woodwork, a two-story fountain, and traditional Javan bamboo instruments. Unfortunately, I have to wait until later this afternoon for the boss of the new office to come to work and sign my letter. Because of this delay, I will not be able to proceed to step two (the national police office) and may have to get an extension from immigration if I cannot make it to Lampung by Monday.

A homestay is probably just a nice word for a small, slightly shabby hotel where you get to live side-by-side with the owners. But, really you also get breakfast every morning (complete with a little American flag at my place setting) and it is a family run place. I am going to meet with my friend Fitri later today about getting the necessary permission (in addition to everything else) to take plant samples out of the forest. It should be a good time. It also looks likely that I will have to be in Jakarta a few days longer than I had hoped because of the one day delay from the new office yesterday. I have to be in Lampung by Monday to go to immigration, but that probably will not work out unless I kick total ass at the offices today and tomorrow. That means that I get to go to immigration in Jakarta with a letter from the research permit office to get a one week extension to immigrate. Unfortunately, immigration in Jakarta is by far the worst, most Kafka-esque office I have been to so far in Indonesia. Good times, good times.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

A 33 hour flight for my 27th birthday.

As I have finally gotten approval from for my new research visa, I will (at last) be returning to the field next week. Because I am already a few months behind I had to snap up the first reasonably-priced, weekend-flight plane ticket to Jakarta. To finish the research permit process and immigrate to Lampung Province in time (maximum 7 days after arrival) I need a full Monday to Friday week in Jakarta. That is, I have to arrive on a weekend or Monday at the latest to get a short breather to make myself presentable enough for the bureaucracy. Of course I can only hope that they do not notice that I wear the same two outfits (researcher kaki and button-up shirt) every time they see me. As it turns out, to meet all of these flight requirements I had the great pleasure of buying a ticket for a flight on my birthday Sat. Feb. 23rd. So, as the most expensive birthday gift I or anyone else has ever given (myself) me, I will fly for 33 hours (that's right 33 HOURS actual air time) on my birthday. But, maybe I should not count it since I will traveling forward in time and by the time I get to jakarta it will be two days later. Still it may seem romantic to someone that does not know better - wisking myself of to exotic Indonesia on my birthday. At least I am going on the good airline (Singapore Airlines) and will get the good vegetarian food and good movie selection this time.

Look for more interesting, more field-based "blahgs" soon.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

While waiting for a new visa...

While waiting for a new research visa for the past three months I have considered, and in some cases, undertaken a number of new endeavors: bookmark weaver, snake scarf and dishcloth knitter, wildlife photographer, curd maker (ruby red grapefuit curd could be really good), writer...I forget the rest just now. I also have spent loads of time with my family and a few close friends. I had a particularly successful photographing outing when I went to the beach with my family in November. I posted some photos below. (The one of my dad and me was taken by my mom.)

In the end I have definitely added to my list of things to do, including running a curdery (it could happen), but I think that I will have to stick with primatology for the moment and actually finish collecting data and writing a dissertation. Of course, this all is operating under the assumption that I eventually get that new visa glued into my passport. Here's hoping for it.