meaning in the moving design

Oh Toronto.

I'm back in the southern True North, basking in the cool summer sun, happily munching on grilled meat and sipping (yes, sipping) Canadian beer.

Back in the warm, cozy cradle of toronto indie music, tdot beats, rep cinemas and art films, street festivals and community dinners, great food, great films, great music, great taste in everything, and great people.

I love this city for all that and more. Yes, it's true, Toronto is busy... but it's busy in a way that is so much healither than the way Asia is busy. Here, people don't pour their energy into their useless 9-5 jobs (unless those jobs are wicked cool and not useless at all), they pour energy into creative, pro-active, community-giving ways of life. People here dare to dream, and it is beautifully inspiring, especially if you're a lazyass half-start like me. This city amazes me.

But I wouldn't be me if I didn't have at least a minor neurotic twitch at the thought of being here again. Coming home is always a little traumatic. If I travel for longer periods of time than most it's because I love the feeling of coming back to this city and having it look slightly unfamiliar... that it can look unfamiliar to me is so exciting. Everything ordinary is given this thin coat of newness and that potential for discovery is so full...

At the moment, Toronto is half living up to this promise of discovery. I'm living in a new hood and getting to know my neighbourhood, I'm discovering new bike roots* and avoiding job hunting by playing in my new garden. On the other hand, I speak the language and most things feel... old. Or rather, everything's the same, and I feel old. Sigh...

Everyone's been asking whether I'm happy to be back, and it's really a hard one to answer. My standard answer is that 'happy' isn't exactly the right word, but I know that it's right to be back. I'm kind of sorting data as I type here, but on a personal note, I feel like I need to "settle down," and by that I refer mostly to internal geography, not external. There are things I need to settle within myself, and Toronto seems the safest and most supportive place to do that. I'm not broken by any means, but I've realized that the challenges of travel and displacement have kinda acted as decoy distractors, they come at the expense of other challenges I'm ignoring, am happy to ignore...

I had a conversation with someone recently, about the idea of wholesale change, of displacing yourself, and why we do it. And we both hit on this one reason- we do it to prove we can do it. There's nothing like diving into a foreign situation, and watching yourself rise to the challenge to give you an incredible- and incredibly addictive- rush of "Yay, Im Awesome!"ness. And then that becomes the easiest way to feel awesome, so suddenly you're doing it all the time and you get all cracked out on this Awesome drug and you can't stop....

So you come down from your Awesome drug and you go home and you find yourself In Transition again, and you're familiar with this place but it's the one place that never stays the same. And so you undergo these familiar/unfamiliar rites of coming home, the settling part, when the universe trembles and pushes and figures out where to fit you into a life that has gone on without you for 2 years. You feel like a triangle shape being manhandled by a fat-fingered kid; you're not sure whether Jolly Bo Gumption here is going to slip you smoothly into the triangle hole or try to jam you stubbornly into the square cutout. There's fear there, you can't help but look back. But there's also this other thing, some sort of inner acceptance that enabled you to go away in the first place. You'll fucking deal. And you'll do it well. Awesome.

And then...

*an honest ta gawd typo, almost but not quite as good as "scene of changery"

The first thing you'll hear about Pulau Derawan and the Sangalaki Archipelago in East Kalimantan (...if you hear anything at all) is that it's a pain in the ass to get to. The second thing you'll probably hear is that it is worth all the pain and more.

This place is magic. There are no cars on Derawan, no ATMs, no money changers, no internet cafes, no German schnitzel, no Muesli breakfasts, and no electricity during the day. Hardly any tourist infrastructure at all. Just a handful of losmens, some exceedingly smiley locals and a very out-of-place, fancy-shmance dive resort that is always empty. Oh, and a few hundred turtles, pristine coral and tropical fish to keep you company. Yes, it's as good as it sounds. These tiny little islands are... it's like... well they're just completely unspoiled havens of pure underwater WEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

I really can't explain it better than that. But to give you an idea of what I mean, here's a breakdown of my week.

Friday
Snorkeled with dozens of manta rays in the plankton-rich waters off the coast of Sangalaki. Came so close to these graceful majestic creatures that, on more than one occasion, I thought I would get clubbed in the head with their giant wings. Thankfully, they saw me at the last minute and swooned past me, all stealth bomber styles. If my mouth wasn't clutching a snorkel, my jaw would've been perma-dropped all day. They were beautiful beyond words.

Saturday
Did one of the craziest dives of my life at Barracuda Point near Kakaban. The dive entailed dropping down 30 meters into a very strong current, getting pushed mercilessly along the coral wall, and then, at the sound of the guide's signal, swimming furiously across the current to calmer waters (or risk getting pushed down to the 50m-60m mark by a raging down current!!) I'm not a very strong swimmer, so I was nervous as hell before entering the water- especially because the equipment was rather sketchy and I didn't have a depth gauge... but once in the water, it was pretty fun. My dive partner and I even struck a Superman pose as we flew along. The coral wall along the calmer bit is gorgeously intact with loads of fish abound.

During the dive break, we took our snorkeling gear into Kakaban Lake. The lake consists of warm brackish water (both sea water and fresh water), which makes for an interesting species soup. An ice age about 12,000 years ago transformed the waters into a landlocked marine lake, with a bed of sea water at the bottom. Millions of stingless jellyfish roam the lake, a specially-evolved species that was able to survive due to lack of natural predators. Millions. You couldn't swim a single metre without bumping into twenty of them. The mangrove forest that hugs the lake also added to the fairy tale feel of the island- the tree roots were covered in coral! Weird magic!

Sunday
Went down to the beach on Derawan and watched a few giant female sea turtles struggle up on shore under the bright waxing moon. Watched one choose a choice spot, dig a hole and lay a few dozen eggs. Then watched it toss the eggs like salad, using its back flippers to throw them around and bury them in the sand.

Monday
Stretched out in my hammock, stared at the sea, read, and napped with vigour.

Tuesday
Feasted on coconuts fresh from the tree, delivered to me by two happy, charming Indonesian brothers (erly and henri) who have the curious distinction of being able to speak both Bahasa Indonesia (obviously) and... French. Not a word of English. They were my ideal language skills practice partners. Communicated in Frahasa Indonesia for most of the afternoon. Took a sunset canoe ride along the coast of Derawan and was smiled and waved at enthusiastically by Derawan locals.

Wednesday
Went back to Kakaban and tried to capture the magic on camera...



Thursday
Snorkeled around Derawan and found crazy abundance of marine life- crocodile fish, scorpionfish, morays, lionfish, nemos... Spent more time in hammock. Practiced being lazy.

Derawan was just... ridiculous. If you love sea creatures and the simple life, I can't think of another place that could be more fulfilling. It does take a minimum of 2 days to get here, but the upside is, you won't want to leave anytime soon. If you're used to easy traveling, well, it's not easy... Almost no one speaks English, and unless you're willing to pay the big bucks, no one is going to organize anything for you. But considering the reward, this place is a bloody gift. It's amazing. Go. GO NOW.

The Nitty-Gritty Details
Getting There:
There are 2 ways to approach Derawan. The easier way is via Malaysian Borneo. From Tawau, take the ferry to Tarakan (145MYR). Then it's Tarakan to Tanjung Selor by ferry (80,000INR); Tanjung Selor to Berau (70,000INR) by kijang (share taxi); and Berau to Tanjung Batu by kijang (60,000INR). From Tanjung Batu, you'll need to charter a speedboat to Pulau Derawan. The boatmen typically want 200-250,000INR per boat, so it's a good deal if you can find folks to split it with.
From the south, it's a 16-18 hour bus ride from Balikpapan, the capital of East Kalimantan, to Berau.

Being There:
Rooms: 75,000-200,000 per room (I stayed at Losmen Danakan, which was wonderful)
Food: Typically 12,000-20,000 per meal. There is a great restaurant closer to the end of town (going towards the mosque) that has a gaudy pink exterior. The ladies here don't speak English but they serve fresh fish that you pick yourself and a host of super yummy vegetables, tofu and tempeh. Their Nasi Kuning (coconut saffron rice with fish steak and sauce) is sooo good. Danakan does meals too, but I like to spread my money around...
The Fun Stuff: To get to Sangalaki and Kakaban means finding a boat, ie. a local fisherman willing to take you out for the day. Again, there's power in numbers. Typically, boats run for 600,000 to Sangalaki and as much as 800,000 to Kakaban, but if you know who to ask, the prices can come down significantly. Don't be afraid to negotiate. There's a guy named Tiar (I call him Manta Orang) who owns a really slow boat, but he's a lovely lovely man and definitely knows how to spot the mantas. His house is a few left of Losman Danakan's, the one with the circular steps. He doesn't speak a word of English.

Diving and snorkeling equipment can be rented from the dive shop at Losman Danakan, but I personally think they suck. I didn't do a lot of dives out here because I was pretty unimpressed with them. The diving equipment is sketchy, their attitude was horrible and they're quite expensive. It's about 500,000 for 2 dives, not including boat rental, wetsuit, torches or anything else, so it adds up. They're very money-grabby, which is a personal quality I happen to hate. What's more, unless you're into crazy currents, there is almost nothing you can't see just by snorkeling (the mantas came right to the surface, and most of the fish are no more than 3-5m down). The snorkeling right off the jetty on Derawan is excellent.

Erly and Henri run a mini golf course on the far side of town (past the mosque). It's super fun and they are lovely boys to chat with if you speak French (or B. Indonesia). That side of town is also where the sun sets and the beach is quite nice. Watch out for falling coconuts.

More photos here. That is all.

My time in Sipadan (world renowned dive site) and Danum Valley (one of the last remaining swathes of primary rainforest in Sabah) was really defined by sights and sounds. In Sipadan, everything was bigger and more abundant than anywhere else I've dived- the turtles and fish were ginormous and the schools of fish were overwhelming. In Danum, hornbills, warblers, cicadas, gibbons and orangutans provided the lively soundtrack for our jungle walks. I'm having a hard time writing about it because those experiences feel really... tactile, like you really had to be there to get it: the sweat and the sounds and the leeches; the need for ninja stealth when looking for wildlife and the anticipation of spotting an animal; the giant, century-old trees towering above you; the quiet awe of being surrounded by a giant swirling school of barracuda; the jedi mind trick of scuba diving and being able to control your movement with your breath... Words just aren't cutting it, so maybe photos and recordings will do better (the recording ends with a gibbon duet :)