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.
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