“The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.”

-G.K. Chesterton

After 20 hours of flying I am back home in Texas, recounting the entire five month experience of studying in Singapore and traveling throughout Southeast Asia. In one thought, I can describe the experience as one of the most enriching of my college career, if not my life, and am extremely grateful for the opportunity provided by my university. Studying abroad was the perfect chance to place myself out of my comfort zone and expand the horizons of educational and personal goals. Business-speak aside, it was all extremely fun, I met some of the most interesting people I have ever encountered, and saw sights I'd never dreamed of. What better to supplement my non-traditional education than non-traditional travel?

Following my ten-day Indonesia crossing, a few weeks were required to bring myself back up to speed with classes. During this time, a friend and I planned a trip to remember - a whirlwind journey of Hong Kong. In the company of a dozen friends we traversed the city twice over hitting all the sights and sounds; one of my most memorable trips. Additional journeys were made: scuba diving in Borneo, cultural sights in Malaysia, and a final five weeks in Thailand,Cambodia, and Laos during my extra-long winter break. I don't know if I will ever get another chance to travel so extensively, that is the reason I devoted myself to seeing as much as possible.

Studying in Singapore was the real adventure. Unbeknownst to me, all undergraduate classes change professors half-way through the semester, resulting in a complete change of teaching style, assignments, and even class material. This lead to some headaches, but I powered through the semester and passed all classes (all three of them) with moderate grades. Learning in Singapore provided me with the chance to learn in a different educational environment and think in a different style. Becoming a foreign student myself really opened my eyes to the difficulties encountered by international students coming to my home university. I was constantly impressed by students from European countries that know two or three languages from their own secondary education and seem to pick up Malay or Mandarin where needed. These students, coming to Singapore for the weather, travel, and high standards of education, are required by their home universities to study abroad at least one semester before graduating. Apparently these universities understand the value of a diversified education, including learning in environments that the home country cannot provide. Perhaps American schools are catching up in this regard, as evidenced by the availability of the scholarship that allowed me to embark on this once-in-a-lifetime journey of the sights, sounds, and smells of Southeast Asia.

Finally, for anyone reading this considering an opportunity to study abroad, do it. Whether its Canada or Sri Lanka, do it. The perspective it gives is entirely unique and the experience is unforgettable. This blog is barely a taste of the breadth of experiences. Put yourself out there and go see what you can make of it; you'll be a richer person for it.

Under southern skies

I knew Indonesia would be a unique trip when I first joined about a dozen French students to cross Java and Bali in less than two weeks. Plans were made and tickets were bought; exactly four hours after my mercifully pre-recess-week mid-terms finished I was on a mostly empty flight to Jakarta, Indonesia’s capital city of 8 million. Perhaps I should have taken this as a sign that no one likes to travel to Jakarta. Despite the choking smog, deafening tuk-tuks, and no real attractions, we made the best of our 2-day stop before boarding a mini-bus to Yogyakarta.

Indonesia is beautiful year-round – lush tropical vegetation, rolling hills, and bright just-south-of-the-equator sun. I quickly learned that a smile and a ‘selamat pagi’ (good morning) can easily bridge the cultural divide. In Indonesia, like Malaysia, haggling is the standard of business. The song and dance is always the same: they give you a price inflated about two to five times the actual value, you counter with a quarter of that. They scoff, say that is far too cheap, or simply laugh in your face. Then they lower, you counter, they say no, you walk away, and then they shout the real price to your back – mission accomplished. I haggled everything from hotel stays to a haircut (which was a mistake). The food is delicious: they have fried rice to a science and cheap, tasty satay is ubiquitous, the little grills seem to hiding under rocks and behind bushes wherever you go.

In Yogyakarta my group and I visited the Prambanan and Borobudur temples, huge Hindu and Buddhist, respectively, complexes dating from the ninth century. Borobudur was a surprise; I was expecting a serene vista befitting the hundreds of thousand-year-old Buddhas but found a veritable amusement park surrounded by hundreds of shouting hawker stands. Children were climbing on priceless reliefs and people sloppily picnicked on ancient pedestals; I was plainly disappointed. In addition to the temples my group joined me on my favorite part of the entire journey – hiking an active volcano. We began around midnight on a trail that became more grueling as we progressed: first a paved road, then a switchback trail, followed by an inclined scrubland on dusty volcanic soil, and finally a scramble up barren rock, all the while racing the sunrise to the summit. Only half of us made it to the smoking crater at the peak, where we watched in awe as the beautiful sunrise exposed the hellscape of jagged, sulfur-covered rock riddled with fuming steam vents. On the return trek we were greeted by local farmers who climb, in only flip-flops, halfway up the mountain every morning to cut huge bunches of grasses to feed their cows. Backbreaking work and still a smile and hello for the pampered tourists. Now it was back on the bus with us for a 24 hour ride to Denpassar, Bali.

After a pre-dawn ferry ride from Java to Bali, we could see the volcanoes of Java behind and the volcanoes of Bali ahead. The Balinese people are mostly Hindu, in contrast to the Muslim majority of Indonesia; there are more shrines, temples, and palaces than you can shake a stick at. Even in touristy Kuta Beach, world famous for its sun and surf, every building and street has a shrine where incense is burned and offerings of flowers, food, and money are placed daily as bringers of good luck from God. Finally we took it easy, enjoying the almost-too-perfect beaches and landscape. Despite my personal string of bad luck involving a rented scooter and corrupt police, we traveled the island admiring the paradise. The Balinese have no word for ‘art’ – art is ubiquitous and simply part of their culture, from numerous painting styles to shrine carvings to beautiful sculptures. Bali is really the most unique destination I’ve reached: swarmed with sun burnt Australians in the south, friendly locals at every corner offering services and help (for a price), and undersea wrecks only a few steps from black sand beaches; all surrounding the holy volcano of Mount Agung. Each of the unique towns could have been a complete vacation in themselves.

As I was sitting in the airport on my way back to Singapore, sun burnt, broke, and feeling a cold approaching, I looked back on this journey as one my better sojourns: satisfying, beautiful, and completely new to me. Here’s hoping I can squeeze in more before the end of the semester.

Not-So-Good Eats

I need to take a moment to discuss food. Everyone needs it, some love it, and as a former fat person I am one of them. Singapore has the largest variety of tastes I have ever encountered and I hope to sample every last one. You can get everything from a New York steak to dim sum to a delicious halal feast all on Holland Ave alone. Most food is sold in hawker centers where dozens of food stalls congregate, vying for your business with large colorful pictures of the meals offered, most are saucy dishes served over white rice. Even with language barriers, ordering is as simple as pointing to the food you want and paying with your bus card.

Singapore has all the fruits of the region as well. Most are delicious, but one differs from the rest, the durian. Here is a fruit that is banned on trains and buses for its awful smell, a fruit that will give you a fever if you eat too much, a fruit that takes a saw blade to open. I believe nature is telling humans not to eat this, but some people love it so much that they describe the cravings for durian as irresistible. I learned a little about this fruit before I came and made a point to try it; first by trying a durian pancake, then some durian ice cream, and finally the fruit itself. The taste is a mix between passion fruit and rotten onions and the texture is that of stringy pudding. You can’t get the smell of your hands for days and the aftertaste lingers as well. At least the durian tasting mission is accomplished; I do not plan to indulge again.

I'll get ya, back in Singapore

I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them. ~Mark Twain

All in all, I would call my trip to Tioman Island, Malaysia a success. But, of course, the best way to start a story is at the beginning:

I got word of a trip to Malaysia about a day before they left. Having missed the first round of Tioman trips the weekend before, I hopped on this quickly; luckily I had completed all my university visa paperwork that day. After a few calls and packing my swimsuit, I woke up early on Wednesday to join the group. We caught a bus, then a train, then another bus that crosses over the bridge to Malaysia. The Malaysian bus depot was much more active than the Singaporean side: hawkers were waiting literally right outside the doors of the bus to sell us tickets to destinations all over Malaysia. My nine travel mates and I were a bit confused, but luckily the trip organizer was wise enough to haggle with the vendors and get us a fair deal. That was our first lesson, haggle for everything in Malaysia; the citizens know to overcharge any traveler hoping they will not know better.A two hour ride across Malaysia later, we arrived in Mersing and attempted to find tickets onto the ferry boat to the island. After some haggling for a great deal for accommodation for ten and a run to catch the last ferry of the day, we were on a nausea-inducing ride across the South China Sea to Tioman Island. Once arriving we boarded our pre-arranged 4-wheelers which took us over the steep, yet paved road across the island to the isolated village of Juara. After 3 buses, a train, a ferry, and a ride in a SUV, we had finally arrived.

The next morning I suggested some kayaking and snorkeling. We got some gear and were off. Despite ‘suggestions’ of staying within the cove, I steered my group out beyond the rocks to find that other beach I saw on the map. The weaker paddlers feel behind and my experienced kayak-mate and I blazed ahead, admiring the beautiful island and staying clear of the rocky shore. We lost sight of the others, and assuming they had turned back towards the beach, continued to an isolated rocky shore about a mile from the village. We made a great deal out of beaching the kayak and put our snorkel gear to use. The reef was beautiful, but dying, a reminder of what global warming is doing to reefs across the globe.

After a few hours, we notice a large boat in the distance. Then came a small rubber speedboat. Admittedly my first thoughts were of pirates, and after noticing one of my companions, I thought he had led them to us to be kidnapped. But it was only to inform us that the other kayaks had sunk, everyone had been rescued by the Malaysian Coast Guard, and we were to leave the reef before the tide came in. They kindly took us to their main ship and motored us back to the main beach with our many thanks; then began the day-long process of retrieving the kayaks from the bottom of the bay. My kayak partner and I, being the strongest swimmers, volunteered to snorkel to a depth of 20 feet to hook the kayaks with the anchor of a hired fisherman in order to bring the supposedly unsinkable boat to the surface. All this with a group that was tearing out their hair at the thought of paying for the lost kayak and brainstorming on how to skip out on the bill for the lost snorkel and mask. They didn’t realize this friendly village was full of people who all knew each other, and an un-paid debt would trap us on the island without a ride back to the mainland ferry, but by the end of the trip it was thankfully resolved.

Next, a girl of the group went to visit the village without telling anyone where she was going or how long she would be. When nightfall approached, the group became spooked and we fanned out across this village of three-hundred people, calling her name, fearing that she was in trouble. After an hour or two, she was found miles away in a restaurant.

At this point I had a feeling this trip wasn’t going to be as adventurous as I hoped; many of my companions were more fascinated by the cheap beer than the beautiful jungle locale. Most acted like typical tourists: arriving without an appreciation of the place or people, taking advantage of the local businesses, and trying to avoid the responsibility as things went south. Next time I hope to travel with a more mature and trail-blazing group.

The next day was spent on some much needed relaxation, along with a trip to a sea turtle conservatory and a failed trek to a jungle waterfall (it was getting dark before we got there). After some fire dancing and bonfires at the beach bar, we were driven the next morning across the same route back to the mainland ferry dock. A ferry, bus, another bus, yet another bus, and train, and a final bus later, I was back home. Being my first travels from Singapore, I’ve learned a couple lessons, but not-withstanding, the sojourn was fun, the island was beautiful, and the time will be remembered for a while to come.

National University of Singapore

This university, while very similar to UT, has a lot of subtle differences. The campus, like a lot of Singapore architecture, is mostly open to the outdoors. Hallways, cafeterias, and even bathrooms are lacking walls; more emphasis is placed on rain gutters and overhangs. I assume this is because of the climate that never changes and a very wet rainy season that lasts for months. Half of the university seems to be under construction, similar to the city itself. Overall, the campus is built like a three-dimensional maze, the buildings rise and fall with the hilly terrain, dead-ends and crossways have disoriented me more than I can remember, and my classroom seems to be always hidden behind a corner; all this from just the first week of classes. Notwithstanding, this is a beautiful university that exemplifies urban planning and efficiency, despite being less densely packed than central Austin.

Despite an initial international student orientation, most of us have been on our own to find our way around and find what's needed. It took me a week to learn which buses go where and I have yet to even see my resident assistant. Registering for classes involves a bizarre system of bidding points for classes, submitting your interest in classes, and waiting for registration approval. Even now, three weeks from my orientation, I don't know which classes I will be taking this semester. All in the experience I suppose.

Sweat and Singlish

Where to start? This time away from home feels like both the end and the beginning. After the months of personal deliberation, inter-university bureaucracy, and preparation, I am relieved to have finally arrived in the city-state of Singapore to start my semester abroad.

But I had to get here first. Upon prematurely ending my summer, I hopped on a plane and skipped over the Pacific Ocean to Tokyo with my father. With only 24 hours in Japan I was quick to see what I could, from ear-splitting pachinko parlors to hyper-advanced toilets. Riding on some of the most crowded, yet most efficient and speedy train systems of the world was a treat. Everything in Japan seems to be on rails, from the people who, without instruction, form polite queues for doorways and escalators, to the sushi, which flaunts itself to hungry patrons riding upon a looping platform. Despite the bilingual signs and announcements, the language barrier was an issue, almost trapping us in the train station before our separate flights out.

I arrived in Singapore in the early morning and the first thing that I noticed upon stepping off the plane was the air. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a place with 80% humidity in high 80’s temperatures. The first few nights in my tiny dorm room without air-conditioning were tough, but I think I’m becoming acclimatized; I’m sure when I come back to Texas everything will feel too dry and cold. After hailing one of the governmentally regulated taxis I had my first encounter with Singapore’s taxi drivers, which know neither English nor directions well. I had expected Singapore to be a densely packed urban jungle, but it turns out the city is interspersed with much lush tropical woodland. But much of Singapore seems to be under construction, in light of city gaining independence only half a century ago. I hope to learn more about Singapore’s history through courses here at the National University of Singapore.

Activities started immediately: a large orientation of all international students, gaining my visa documentation and student matriculation, finding the various sports clubs (they seem to love tennis the most), and personally dealing with unexpected cross-country bank bureaucracy. After all that, along with a night drinking in a park and a ‘visit’ to the ritzy Clarke Quay bar district with about a dozen British dressed as school child

ren, I’ve met more people than I can possibly remember, all of them exchange students. Most international students at NUS come from Europe, with a majority from Baltic States; or perhaps they are the most remarkable with their blond hair and tall statures (and party hard attitudes). Most Singaporeans come from China and thus most people you see are dark-haired and speak Chinese, and you can not help but notice the large groups of Chinese students that accumulate in my dormitory complex. Almost three-quarters of all Singaporeans are Chinese, but Indians and Malays are also present as large ethnic groups, resulting in Singapore adopting four national languages: English, Chinese, Tamil, and Malay. This is the first time of my life as a minority and it’s hard to not just associate with other Caucasians; hopefully, in time, I will acclimatize to this aspect as well. The English spoken here is a delightful dialect of British English with a Chinese influence known as Singlish, which sometimes hampers my communication.

As I hoped the food here is delicious and cheap. Authentic tastes from every corner of Asia are just a train ride away at most. As I hoped, seafood can be found on anything (fish ball pizza?) and can be found everywhere. Neighborhoods such as Chinatown, Little India, and Arab Street provide all the dining and over-priced (as I discovered later) shopping you could want. The fruit here is amazing as well, including the extraordinary Durian, a fruit that is banned on buses and subways due its awful smell. In a pancake or as ice cream, it tastes better than its odor, but not by much (a cross between over-ripe bananas and old onions). I’m working my way up to the actual fresh fruit itself, and by the end of the year I hope to taste everything, and I mean everything, this city has to offer.

Making the decision to postpone my already overdue graduation from the University of Texas was not an easy one, but in the week and half I have already been here I have seen enough to trump a semester of experience in Austin, and there is still so much to do. Swim with the pink dolphins of Sentosa Island, visit the night safari, gawk at the red light district of Orchard Street, and see the full moon parties of Thailand. Stay tuned, things are just getting started.