tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42140430306410056372024-02-19T15:44:33.667-08:00CaitlinAwayA little blog about a tall girl living and working on a dense island.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-64342454319118309642012-07-28T04:41:00.001-07:002012-07-28T04:41:10.549-07:00A quick catch upI am not a great blogger, right? Lots of gaps between posts, lots of silence. I do try, but life gets in the way. Which, at the moment, is a bit sad, as (according to the very detailed traces of my daily activities that I have thanks to a large part of my job) I'm mostly at work. And home. And traveling between the two, by foot, by bike, by bus, or by metro.<br />
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Exciting, right? :-)<br />
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But, that being said, there has been some excitement for me on the Little Red Dot. But first - the last pics from the trip to Bali!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I mention that it was a bit warm?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The market in Ubud (it was actually quite crowded, just not right here)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monkey Jungle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and just the jungle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last meal - delicious fish, though the green beans were the best part</td></tr>
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Not long after that, there was a quick trip to Koh Samui, Thailand for a weekend of yoga.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't want to be tanked, thanks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAz_B5j_E6BJdvuthAIipdYrNZ_nDXIGoSrjVKoKXjKF5RW8GrSN3DWexxPloI5iZ27WwLMUAM75SUucfmH4LGi8tZuL91Nyh3mT2UObyeMlgeDrWNcMT-JAxMVTrM8AlZHrYkOWNaG8/s1600/IMG_0162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAz_B5j_E6BJdvuthAIipdYrNZ_nDXIGoSrjVKoKXjKF5RW8GrSN3DWexxPloI5iZ27WwLMUAM75SUucfmH4LGi8tZuL91Nyh3mT2UObyeMlgeDrWNcMT-JAxMVTrM8AlZHrYkOWNaG8/s320/IMG_0162.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...well, I like to *think* I'm good luck</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elephant towels</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The yoga studio</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool and dry inside, raining outside. Amazing yoga.</td></tr>
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A couple of performances at the Esplanade (Carmina Burana and Rites of Spring)<br />
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...and now I'm living in my own little studio! Pictures in the next entry... Promise.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-54978689798970895182012-05-15T16:32:00.001-07:002012-05-15T16:32:33.220-07:00Hello, Bali (Part 2 - Sunday, Part 1)(...apparently Sunday took a long time to get there...)<br />
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Sunday morning dawned at my usual too-early-for-normal-people time, so I spent some more time reading on the deck and drinking coffee while awaiting my second massage. I had arranged for a driver for the day to take me around, so post-massage I showered, packed, and left my things at the desk before checking out. And then off to explore!<br />
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The first stop was at a traditional family compound.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NBgC4aDZ2dlTqXbBSoKUgrzSxyYgb_7LX1Zs8oTjHepATHXs6MlZYwGtXfU14sAc_Kr3mPu3QlE5mbkrpBVMrGkSYn_eZH87v7dy8taY9JqljAVit53u-4rfGoKauBBx3l42DfFKuWU/s1600/BR+049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NBgC4aDZ2dlTqXbBSoKUgrzSxyYgb_7LX1Zs8oTjHepATHXs6MlZYwGtXfU14sAc_Kr3mPu3QlE5mbkrpBVMrGkSYn_eZH87v7dy8taY9JqljAVit53u-4rfGoKauBBx3l42DfFKuWU/s320/BR+049.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kitchen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEewJRo6V-YwD8qMdBTS-UnYG1aNjrNHIPF-d_-zSaKKydPn8f3XJKKAud65t_GRHB-gLdU6H8gDJv3AEVX3DggLtmHeIgyG2LzDby0il7Lb3jnLvs3f5qyFkgng9SnwF4AnCYy5PzvKw/s1600/BR+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEewJRo6V-YwD8qMdBTS-UnYG1aNjrNHIPF-d_-zSaKKydPn8f3XJKKAud65t_GRHB-gLdU6H8gDJv3AEVX3DggLtmHeIgyG2LzDby0il7Lb3jnLvs3f5qyFkgng9SnwF4AnCYy5PzvKw/s320/BR+050.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I cannot imagine cooking in this kitchen. It was already sweltering outside, so add this oven...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rice out to dry</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The family temple</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJ6-wUPwU_gqR1CEYIuR1ejHr5ErDmdhi7ILTLyB27-JeLR7kOQp1sLje078OzpSoq_Nhz3uQHw5q6bLQhNHx39ehzBWhcIjeKzpd4QJfA3xryWdh2ZdA6n2g7h_Kif2HWxmHnKfmXRM/s1600/BR+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJ6-wUPwU_gqR1CEYIuR1ejHr5ErDmdhi7ILTLyB27-JeLR7kOQp1sLje078OzpSoq_Nhz3uQHw5q6bLQhNHx39ehzBWhcIjeKzpd4QJfA3xryWdh2ZdA6n2g7h_Kif2HWxmHnKfmXRM/s320/BR+056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cockfighting is not apparently not illegal in Indonesia...</td></tr>
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After exploring the compound, my driver next took me to one of the local temples. Beautiful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-UjEf6lWw_heAlbYj_0eovV9iw2jl3glsr-Q2WTP2J7wkt7l5HgdxIZNn5X1kip4laCJxk_tnpoA3A8ZMVOtpkGDGAUIWE62LEDjPKDgvpVr0g-35Wd1v61g4lZWQ8kPs2a0mfSwg1Y/s1600/BR+059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-UjEf6lWw_heAlbYj_0eovV9iw2jl3glsr-Q2WTP2J7wkt7l5HgdxIZNn5X1kip4laCJxk_tnpoA3A8ZMVOtpkGDGAUIWE62LEDjPKDgvpVr0g-35Wd1v61g4lZWQ8kPs2a0mfSwg1Y/s320/BR+059.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking into the temple</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sporting a sarong</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bird house</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bit later, there was some playing of the instruments - delightful!</td></tr>
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Next stop was short hike to a lovely waterfall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stairs...the knee did not like the stairs. Ah well - worth it!</td></tr>
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So many pictures for one day! Still more to come in Part 3.<br />
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<br />caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-88739967794927971422012-04-27T08:43:00.000-07:002012-04-27T08:43:47.750-07:00Hello, Bali!Well, let's get that last post off the top of the page, shall we? First off, I should say that I'm doing much better - the stitches came out on Monday, and my doctor was very happy with how the cuts are healing. I'm still not at 100% mobility, and there will be scars, but at least I can shower without a bag over my leg now, and don't look such a wally going up and down the stairs.<br />
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In the meantime, I took a little trip.<br />
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Work has been really hectic of late, and is on the verge of getting more so. I wanted to take a short trip away to ground myself so that I drive neither myself nor my colleagues completely batty, so I scoured the internet for deals, hit up friends for suggestions, and eventually wound up booking a weekend in Bali - specifically in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanur,_Bali" target="_blank">Sanur</a> region. The initial plan was for Biking! Walking! Swimming! Kayaking! Unfortunately, the injury put paid to a lot of that (the stitches were still in when I went), so a reassessment of expectations came into play.<br />
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And it ended up being...wonderful. I arrived on a Friday night, and my room was upgraded to the beautiful suite shown below. The queen-sized bed and king-sized terrace would have made the weekend away worth it even without the rest of the delights.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A real, not twin-sized bed</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLG4cqAHzT23pHuebR5lBMHBfbPfRlnotLFkjpdMVfnzBxVwWyPDzzJE3Jl6s3jFHVtoIH7xjrsMxT6UD8_iS2OLvshgCMnCsVw9mka-Hbs86Gl1wa_hqNmciCmT-L2aXcTawLCFBN5qU/s1600/BR+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLG4cqAHzT23pHuebR5lBMHBfbPfRlnotLFkjpdMVfnzBxVwWyPDzzJE3Jl6s3jFHVtoIH7xjrsMxT6UD8_iS2OLvshgCMnCsVw9mka-Hbs86Gl1wa_hqNmciCmT-L2aXcTawLCFBN5qU/s320/BR+022.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, thank you, I think I <i>will</i> spend many hours sitting here reading</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After checking in, I wandered around the resort, walked down to the beach, and then got dinner at one of the local restaurants.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWceA2mw6Th_I9ln4DbkqoemkN3zoDPE2ofuHJBm3nEDwH9eyYhtgGvKgBOcezwSCYbYcpafWJPU5iZyHhqzsg-gKPmNJvOOB6oVfO8Ih9uijSkBo8bqp4JKet25Aimoj7hxPu5b496JI/s1600/BR+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWceA2mw6Th_I9ln4DbkqoemkN3zoDPE2ofuHJBm3nEDwH9eyYhtgGvKgBOcezwSCYbYcpafWJPU5iZyHhqzsg-gKPmNJvOOB6oVfO8Ih9uijSkBo8bqp4JKet25Aimoj7hxPu5b496JI/s320/BR+027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prawns with a lemongrass & chili sauce - delicious</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After dinner, I went back to the hotel and sat on the terrace reading for a while before heading to the luxury of the queen-sized bed. Heaven.<br />
<br />
Saturday dawned very bright and very hot. First task of the day was coffee on the terrace with <a href="http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9780062000651-2" target="_blank">a book</a>. I sat there for...a couple of hours, actually, just enjoying the sun, the coffee and the lack of internet access. They were two of the most relaxing hours I've had in ages, and it was a bit of a stretch to pull myself away. Pull myself away I did, however, to take a walk around the resort and the town in daylight. And maybe to book a massage. Or two (they were 2-for-1 specials...how could I resist?).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-3yvSlLpFeSBtXmV1LrUrBJJO_4Rj0_3OaWc7cumvt0xhAN6MKnXwnAQQIXnQndSfKUd-CR1wom3d2UoGnYii-tBjzUBDRfZpAg94p4hlh_Xyqy6DukS2kXNykenPsH3gMO3KNOQXTM/s1600/BR+028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-3yvSlLpFeSBtXmV1LrUrBJJO_4Rj0_3OaWc7cumvt0xhAN6MKnXwnAQQIXnQndSfKUd-CR1wom3d2UoGnYii-tBjzUBDRfZpAg94p4hlh_Xyqy6DukS2kXNykenPsH3gMO3KNOQXTM/s320/BR+028.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the resort</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMt5pgwethL2CQsBBWTKacQK3upR9iUGjyhCan-A35CBdwXIhwqzkk3Ld3k5yeDfzh71jxypAnpro3QF1uCtjvS1zOYKe8nmQCxcArU-iThhwu40IN9CCUrmqJ7IG6-5x-QcIEJyjJR24/s1600/BR+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMt5pgwethL2CQsBBWTKacQK3upR9iUGjyhCan-A35CBdwXIhwqzkk3Ld3k5yeDfzh71jxypAnpro3QF1uCtjvS1zOYKe8nmQCxcArU-iThhwu40IN9CCUrmqJ7IG6-5x-QcIEJyjJR24/s320/BR+035.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roundabout by the town's temple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6qs0Io6dyT9QhDVxQFHQqEh0X1t5Zs6o845itch1EmwQdhRPEgTw7HHKbSgvLgukr0dFfzooHdeuv_TI3uHdLvaNn23DuW3E8rhI5wBUNE4LFXi9p2k-fK90haE6W34cBOo7Tv6nusQ/s1600/BR+046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6qs0Io6dyT9QhDVxQFHQqEh0X1t5Zs6o845itch1EmwQdhRPEgTw7HHKbSgvLgukr0dFfzooHdeuv_TI3uHdLvaNn23DuW3E8rhI5wBUNE4LFXi9p2k-fK90haE6W34cBOo7Tv6nusQ/s320/BR+046.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplkMCZHmkHIOmc7SysJtIF6ptDUqXsgfhfc2__TrKEKTHgb3v4eytmMRM0YhktpMHut4cGS_swexvJfMTyt7-8Z2KASei3gZDpkpWmIjDv4caeBBu9ycQPfIbq4enwlaVz5yo-baTgfA/s1600/BR+048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplkMCZHmkHIOmc7SysJtIF6ptDUqXsgfhfc2__TrKEKTHgb3v4eytmMRM0YhktpMHut4cGS_swexvJfMTyt7-8Z2KASei3gZDpkpWmIjDv4caeBBu9ycQPfIbq4enwlaVz5yo-baTgfA/s320/BR+048.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the terrace</td></tr>
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After a walk and the massage (and a shower) I decided to be ever-so-exciting! ...and read on the beach. It was a glorious view.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrArKYUh-gbkNqa7Ba-EJaibQIVjcByxH5HbAQjcr-P5nRVVnzaotUo4g7wEEN829XLwp-nzWo2kDl3Mwd7vk9mYO86gQ2_6p0fZF0HuAXZ7SByUAiAnlUcX8eegXlMX704_QwyFGhMY/s1600/BR+039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrArKYUh-gbkNqa7Ba-EJaibQIVjcByxH5HbAQjcr-P5nRVVnzaotUo4g7wEEN829XLwp-nzWo2kDl3Mwd7vk9mYO86gQ2_6p0fZF0HuAXZ7SByUAiAnlUcX8eegXlMX704_QwyFGhMY/s320/BR+039.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...truly stunning</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xOz53c_ig_6xVbJ8KdQ7UDbYHunpUgHpYjxXAo8DrAWJw4B78J3jESYL24qrIJJ-Ogv6nT25c9mu8AFmoHUiarkMD9AGRyDgDHpQqjr8MYdqoLjmb5Hzai6xHxr11EzOTIlcnbYDRDM/s1600/BR+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xOz53c_ig_6xVbJ8KdQ7UDbYHunpUgHpYjxXAo8DrAWJw4B78J3jESYL24qrIJJ-Ogv6nT25c9mu8AFmoHUiarkMD9AGRyDgDHpQqjr8MYdqoLjmb5Hzai6xHxr11EzOTIlcnbYDRDM/s320/BR+040.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
I did try to go canoeing, but the canoes on offer were full-sized, and I'm just not able to handle a two-to-four person canoe by myself in the ocean with a bum knee. I tested out a bike as well, but pedaling was excruciating. Quite sad, but something to look forward to next time. Plus? By that time I was ready for breakfast...er, lunch?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBymk1AluCyX8Zecr436QoKxR_bWNr-xMZuZCDxfiN5IghFB3L-i8YAidGghewAfnhaPzvly0H9jMFyNJp-k11SW-SWDQNlPWiTEhhYYG2uFa3cYpcD2lQ-KQ_MA62JG2ff37xaDH_wE/s1600/BR+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBymk1AluCyX8Zecr436QoKxR_bWNr-xMZuZCDxfiN5IghFB3L-i8YAidGghewAfnhaPzvly0H9jMFyNJp-k11SW-SWDQNlPWiTEhhYYG2uFa3cYpcD2lQ-KQ_MA62JG2ff37xaDH_wE/s320/BR+033.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious, delicious <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mie_goreng" target="_blank">mee goreng</a></td></tr>
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The rest of Saturday was spent walking, reading, sitting on the beach, and generally doing absolutely nothing of any importance whatsoever. <br />
<br />
And again I say...Heaven.<br />
<br />
Dinner was at a vegetarian Indian restaurant, and I wish I had gotten a picture of the eggplant dish and naan I ordered. Spicy. Garlic-y. Delicious.<br />
<br />
And then another night in the Glorious! Bed! (I am 5'10". I sleep diagonally in my twin bed in Singapore because I'm just too tall for the head and foot boards. A queen-sized bed? Luxury.)<br />
<br />
And then it was Sunday.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-75976961149804718192012-04-02T22:15:00.000-07:002012-04-02T22:15:38.740-07:00FrustrationI was thinking on Sunday that I should write a post - on settling in, settling down, developing good routines. I'd had a lovely weekend that involved biking, yoga, pilates, coffee, a couple of birthday celebrations for friends, errand running, cooking...all of the things that make me feel centered and grounded and at home. All of the things I've been trying to develop since moving to this odd little Island.<br />
<br />
I didn't write the post - I went out with friends instead - but was still feeling that calm sense of belonging on Monday morning when I set out to work in the rain. <br />
<br />
Now, I like rain. A lot. But I don't like rain when I'm outside in Singapore because (foreshadowing!) the sidewalks are not good. Many of them turn into slick sheets at the first sign of dampness, with no grip and no traction. When we have the type of weather we had Monday morning (lashing rain, wind, thunder, lightning) I wear my heaviest, grippiest shoes and am ever-so-cautious about how and where I walk. <br />
<br />
Ah well, the best laid plans...<br />
<br />
Nearly to work, walking carefully, carefully, foot steps on sidewalk, foot slips on sidewalk, I go down, and knee meets corner. Blood and pain and rage. <br />
<br />
I ended up in the emergency room, and my leg received eight stitches in the two gashes - one just at the bend of the bottom of the knee (deep enough to see kneecap), one where the shin and knee meet. I went to work (I work just next to the hospital) and stayed for a while, but the pain was bad, and the frustration...<br />
<br />
I've always, always been clumsy and accident prone. I'm no stranger to broken bones, sprains, torn ligaments, stitches, bruises, etc. It's a running joke amongst my friends and family.<br />
<br />
But guess what? It's not so funny. I can't walk properly, no biking or jogging for at least a month, no yoga or pilates for at least two weeks. I can't do the things that keep me centered and balanced and sane. Going up stairs is a chore, standing on a crowded bus is agony. I can't find a comfortable position to sit or stand or lie down, so my sleep last night was nearly useless. I can't get the wound wet, so showering...no, let's not speak about that.<br />
<br />
It would be frustrating anywhere, but somehow it feels worse here. I don't know why. <br />
<br />
I guess all there is to do is suck it up and deal. The only way over is through. Wish me luck.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-88247623972385386572012-03-14T01:48:00.001-07:002012-03-14T01:52:43.070-07:00Catching upHello, little neglected blog. How are you? Apologies for the silence (yet again) on this end - it's been a busy few weeks since I returned! Nothing too exciting going on, really. Just work and work and friends and work. Fairly even keel.<br />
<br />
Today, however, has been its own little nightmare. I'm getting over a bad cold, which always makes me ever-so chipper; I slipped in the rain, fell into a puddle and got to work soaking wet; and to cap it all off, I caught the heel of my shoe on the foot of my (wheeled) office chair while changing into a t-shirt, the chair went one way, I pitched forward the other way, and the knuckle of my hand caught the screen of my laptop. Rest in peace, little Lenovo screen. Rest in Peace.<br />
<br />
Add to this the knowledge that in recent days I have also bruised my cheek by accidentally hitting my face on the arm of a chair, dumped a full cup of coffee into my lap and spilled bleach on a favorite dress, among other smaller incidents, and you will perhaps understand my frustration.<br />
<br />
My mother, as she always used to remind me, did not name me "Grace".<br />
<br />
But moving on to happier subjects...<br />
<br />
I was downtown on Sunday to meet a friend for yoga. I realized mid-bus ride that I didn't have any cash with me, and I didn't know if the studio took debit cards. Thankfully, there was an ATM in a shopping center across from the studio, so I stopped in. And the smell of the shopping center brought me to Huntington, WV, to the department store (Stone & Thomas, maybe?) that we would go to with my grandmother. It was instant recognition, and a lovely surprise. I'm not sure what it was - the shoe store, perhaps? A bit of must? A combination of factors? But my nose recognized it instantly, and it made me think of the cities I visited this past trip, and their scents.<br />
<br />
Chicago is bus fumes and dumpsters, in the nicest way possible, their odors wafting quickly past from the seat of a bike. And also the smell of the grass where its scent meets that of the lake on the north end of the Lakeshore Path. A bit of Greektown is thrown in there too, particularly the deli on the corner of Halsted and Jackson. <br />
<br />
DC is somewhat sterile to the nose for me, but a mix of coffee and tar can bring it back at times. Boston was the smell of the Charles mixed with a slight chill, with an overtone of books and brick. New Orleans and Baton Rouge seem like their scents should be equally green and musty, but Baton Rouge has an industrial scent that's overshadowed by hints of funk in New Orleans. The scent of crushed acorns always brings my mind to BR.<br />
<br />
And then at a friend's place recently, the smell of the kitchen sink (slightly damp sponge, beer dregs, and soap) put me instantly back to my flat in Leeds.<br />
<br />
When I got back to Singapore and stepped outside of the airport, the city's scent rushed to meet me. I think of it as a mixture of durian (imagined, I'm sure), the sweat of 5 million residents, and the sea air mixed to form the peculiarly Singaporean smell. It's actually quite lovely, and I was glad to let it envelop me. The recognition of the scent made me feel at home, and I sunk into it. <br />
<br />
I may not have the greatest memory for things that happened, people I've met, or books I've read. But waft the mixed scent of gas and grass under my nose, and I can place myself into the shed of our first house in Baton Rouge. It's a powerful thing, the nose. Thanks be!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-39027008960254403172012-02-15T12:19:00.000-08:002012-02-15T12:19:50.907-08:00Waiting at the nearly-thereI'm sitting at Chicago's O'Hare airport for the umpteenth time, again waiting on a delayed flight. I should, at this moment, be somewhere in the air over the US on my way to Tokyo en route to my little island-nation. Instead, I'm working on a paper, returning emails, and hoping that the delay doesn't stretch beyond the predicted five hours.<br />
<br />
I'm ready to be home.<br />
<br />
The rest of my time in Boston was lovely and interesting and delightful and fun, and I had a wonderful time catching up with family and friends in the warm(er) southlands over the last few days. But I am So. Ready. to be home. To be back in my office, on the bus or the bike, drinking coffee at my coffeeshop, cooking quinoa and black beans in my kitchen. I like my routines. I love to travel and explore, but after a month I want to be home. Putting aside the discombobulation of living out of a suitcase, depending on others for rides, and constantly pulling out a map. Settling back in.<br />
<br />
Three more hours until the flight, 14 hours in the air, and a layover somewhere in there. Let's get going.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-88463483186208643922012-02-01T15:48:00.000-08:002012-02-01T15:48:30.554-08:00Mid-wayIt's been a whirlwind North American trip thus far. I've taken no pictures, seen no great sights, and experienced no once-in-a-lifetime moments. What I have done is catch up with old friends, wander around some of my favorite cities, visit some of my favorite places, and dive deeply into the life that I've missed since I left. It's been good. So good. Damn, I know some interesting, lovely, and delightful people!<br />
<br />
The funny thing, though?<br />
<br />
I actually find myself missing Singapore.<br />
<br />
I do miss things here. Being in Chicago (in my old apartment building, no less, with my old neighbors who I miss SoMuch) made me remember how much I love it there. DC is always a good place to wander, and the Ethiopian food was something I've sorely missed. Toronto was lovely and snowy and beautifully Canadian, and I had forgotten (in the ten years since I've been here) how stunning and compact Boston is. The overwhelming feeling I've had since being back is "cozy" - something I rarely experience on the Red Dot. There's something about coming in from a cold day to take off the coat and gloves and scarf and boots. Something about curling up under a blanket with a book or the computer (because work must get done, of course) on my lap. Something about seasons and short days and long nights. I can't live forever without snow and wool and soup.<br />
<br />
But my life is in Singapore now. My things, my routines. I'm loving this trip and everything about it. But I will be ready to return home when the time comes. I often find myself looking back, trying to make sense of the stories in my past, working to identify patterns and continue the good ones while halting the bad ones. I don't always do a great job of that, and I sometimes get stuck. Now is the time to appreciate where I am, and look forward to the future. Working on it.<br />
<br />
Working on it.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-55595685242199194702012-01-14T02:19:00.000-08:002012-01-14T02:19:18.727-08:00Heading off, again...and so the travels continue! Today has been spent packing, running errands, doing laundry, and taking care of the myriad tasks that are the precursors to a long trip. As of early tomorrow morning, I will be heading off for a month-long, multi-city tour of North America - hurrah! Some work, some play, some uncertainty, some things to definitely look forward to. It's funny that I've finally felt of late that I'm hitting my stride here, just in time to leave. I'll miss (don't laugh) my office and my colleagues, but thankfully will have the chance to see some of them while away. I'm anxious to see how it feels to be back after being gone.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow - Central Time Zone!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-26127310509931933352012-01-05T05:38:00.000-08:002012-01-05T18:28:25.706-08:00Christmas 2011, In which I go for a rather steep walk (Part 3)Our room for the night was densely packed with three sets of bunk beds, all of which were adorned with wet clothing and rucksacks. Orchid and I shared the room with four other hikers - two Indians via way of Australia, and a couple who I believe were Dutch. When I opened my pack to take out my night clothes, I was hit with the realization that <i>everything</i> in the bag was wet. My clothes, granola bars, papers, passport...Despite having secured things in plastic bags inside the pack and securing the poncho over, the rain had seeped in through the zipper and the fabric of the pack itself. I sighed, and bundled myself as well as I could in damp leggings, a skirt, and a t-shirt, read for a bit, and turned over for a restless night. While our bunkmates snored merrily, Orchid, who is apparently a fellow insomniac, and I counted the squeaks of the springs as we tossed and turned and searched for the elusive specter of sleep. Despite my misgivings about the early hour, I was relieved when alarms started going off at 1:45.<br />
<br />
Did I mention that the second day of the hike starts at 2:30 AM?<br />
<br />
The six of us groggily started packing our things, all lamenting the ever-present dampness. Never mind though, after cleaning ourselves as best we could in the cold shower, securing our packs, and brushing our teeth, we all headed downstairs where there was a promise of coffee. At Laban Rasa, you begin the day with an early breakfast to prepare you for the hike ahead. I sank into my coffee and noodles-with-egg, and gave thanks for warmth, friendly companions, and the knowledge that I would, at some point that day, get to take a real shower. At 2:40, Nani met us at the door and we began the next part of the climb, adorned with headlamps and bundled against the cold. The rain, miraculously, had stopped for a bit, and we caught glimpses of stars in the blackness above.<br />
<br />
The second day's hike starts with a trek through the blackness up to the summit for sunrise. 2.7 K, which sounds like...not much, really. Less than two miles? I walk that and more every day. But this...is uphill. Steeply uphill. And it's dark. And it's slippery from the previous day's rain. And did I mention that it's uphill?<br />
<br />
The altitude began to get to me a bit here. Or the fatigue. Or the constant climb up slippery steps. Thankfully, the trail is fairly narrow here, and so you really only move at the pace of the slowest person in front of you (all of the groups leave around the same time). I was able to take a good number of breaks without disturbing the pace too much, for which I was immensely grateful. There's not much noise outside at that time of day - the climbers are too tired and breathless, and of course there's no traffic - so you plod through the quiet darkness, with a string of lights ahead and behind you indicating the headlamps of the other climbers.<br />
<br />
Strangely enough, this was perhaps my favorite part of the climb. You couldn't really see the scenery, beyond passing glimpses of the lights of the towns far below, it was cold, and the climb was daunting. But it's quietly solitary, particularly as the hikers string out more along the trail, and it's very focused in the present. There's no dwelling on past imperfect or future uncertain - there's only present tense. Where is my foot now, and where should it be next? Stay upright. Don't go too fast. Maintain a slow and steady pace.<br />
<br />
It was, in short, the part of the climb most removed from how I normally live, and I sank deeply into it.<br />
<br />
We passed the tree line, and emerged onto the very rocky face of the remainder of the climb. You pass through a small checkpoint where they check your badge and remind you to use the rope.<br />
<br />
Did I mention the rope?<br />
<br />
Parts of the climb are <i>really</i> steep at this point, it's pretty much bare rock face, and (yes, again) it had been raining. The rocks are slick, so there's a guide rope attached to the rock. And you will use it. To haul yourself up, hand over hand, not quite daring to look behind and below.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkLKVTkikXHJhqEwpvpKmBp0J90FktHEDIy-lGkZCPANGpUbvM6Ku5AUic_IxgCZbmjdUyWa2o0t-pozLIoiBV-tk4eDywdA_eOvUolGZZglLjV7v_l7KseX8bL4ZR5KXqHLmb5ZzVMQ/s1600/S5003119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkLKVTkikXHJhqEwpvpKmBp0J90FktHEDIy-lGkZCPANGpUbvM6Ku5AUic_IxgCZbmjdUyWa2o0t-pozLIoiBV-tk4eDywdA_eOvUolGZZglLjV7v_l7KseX8bL4ZR5KXqHLmb5ZzVMQ/s320/S5003119.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rope (at a less steep bit where I was willing to take a photo)</td></tr>
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It's hard.<br />
<br />
The altitude, the minimal upper body strength, and the mental and physical fatigue all came together to make it difficult to take the next step. Thankfully, Nani got me past some rough patches and reminded me to <b>take it slow</b>. That's the only way to do it. So I walked, pulled, rested, sat when I could, and plodded, one foot in front of the other.<br />
<br />
And the reward? Was amazing. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPF23-S82GL7oEGSxI7IE8b-YIZufXqPCesMS-d4EKvIV3CxJSGuFbJJ4hGAlMJAml114NXpQBmBuZQCEe-flF1FjsvWS82ODix4Uj7mlV490JyLi3aGaOhF48HJvGqCJ8g9FybgVYF0/s1600/S5003114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPF23-S82GL7oEGSxI7IE8b-YIZufXqPCesMS-d4EKvIV3CxJSGuFbJJ4hGAlMJAml114NXpQBmBuZQCEe-flF1FjsvWS82ODix4Uj7mlV490JyLi3aGaOhF48HJvGqCJ8g9FybgVYF0/s320/S5003114.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I promise that's me - the full pic will not go up :-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ueHyYEIxWDSNS8ar4tn5a87jpJ8qEW7Js8n3Gag8FqAtrg8fZua4J4_abyyPkZWjcbsipG0v5EY3YPWqJbvCngTzSEr7TRItEpbeZ-cCCikhkG3j0c2Bifyl5Nb-N3WB_kDPVlmXkDY/s1600/S5003120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ueHyYEIxWDSNS8ar4tn5a87jpJ8qEW7Js8n3Gag8FqAtrg8fZua4J4_abyyPkZWjcbsipG0v5EY3YPWqJbvCngTzSEr7TRItEpbeZ-cCCikhkG3j0c2Bifyl5Nb-N3WB_kDPVlmXkDY/s320/S5003120.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkD4Kx-zPTlRGce_FPNTwz1OCjbswaRCSwegBuUcj-WSBw1VP8fWTyjyQZxaY7oON-8xst-1lZrDGZ9vn7OENRVVsoIlkIQagxfeflHA3-C4Te6Ko_ITuxPhBSz7Pn3EB0sWuwfJhqTk/s1600/S5003122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkD4Kx-zPTlRGce_FPNTwz1OCjbswaRCSwegBuUcj-WSBw1VP8fWTyjyQZxaY7oON-8xst-1lZrDGZ9vn7OENRVVsoIlkIQagxfeflHA3-C4Te6Ko_ITuxPhBSz7Pn3EB0sWuwfJhqTk/s320/S5003122.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyFmiQ0BbtsNmmMQXDpMRO1WdjXG6IZBhW3NeWhbXwdX8dZXCUm42MQVuolnzeRnlmyNphyphenhyphenvs5RY0POaiPbYs-kl4QzhhtjOsj1UzdTGKUjB5bszvd9CmBvPBHmHxNEX_wyS5lZXaa7U/s1600/S5003123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyFmiQ0BbtsNmmMQXDpMRO1WdjXG6IZBhW3NeWhbXwdX8dZXCUm42MQVuolnzeRnlmyNphyphenhyphenvs5RY0POaiPbYs-kl4QzhhtjOsj1UzdTGKUjB5bszvd9CmBvPBHmHxNEX_wyS5lZXaa7U/s320/S5003123.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>My pictures don't do it justice, but it is astoundingly beautiful. Small towns and cities below, rock all around, the tree line emerging beneath you, standing above the clouds. It's worth the climb, the bad sleep, the cold, and the wet. It's a proud moment, when the sun comes up and you see how far you've come.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAsh0t8F01jOmW2fPyXirR0mb6MAl7RPhc5Cu8yFw6NrEKdXpUndXnPU1NkjwnP_IjJctcfCflGaXQoAH5W8MVob-vTz5sKHenYZFw2HaXi-yUyftbJukjQBCYeSCf9Y5i1uJ8TRLsR0/s1600/S5003125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAsh0t8F01jOmW2fPyXirR0mb6MAl7RPhc5Cu8yFw6NrEKdXpUndXnPU1NkjwnP_IjJctcfCflGaXQoAH5W8MVob-vTz5sKHenYZFw2HaXi-yUyftbJukjQBCYeSCf9Y5i1uJ8TRLsR0/s320/S5003125.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orchid, Nani, Fit, me and Everest - sleepy but accomplished</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The climb down is easier, but more difficult, if that makes any sense. All those steps you came up yesterday? You go down today - the full 8.7K on top of the 2.7K you did to start the morning. At the top of the climb I was grateful that we had climbed up in the dark - seeing the terrain in the light was quite scary, particularly when going backward while hanging on to the rope! Breakfast (the real one) at Laban Rasa breaks up the descent a bit, but by the end our knees ached (I think I pulled my IT band), our toes were numb from slamming against the front of our shoes, and we were all ready to hit a shower.<br />
<br />
But it was so worth it, and I can't wait for the next climb.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1I8pyNpQZt2YMKOeHlSBKfFUegNfbdenc_fhwK3FH_e0NdqLHZaM1JQFFR68vj2iysle1qQ9sJ-kICygNVVx-He2Dz_UtAnHvptEKSxLlURvkZb1pDe4U_z429vbR_X8jXqQyCSeMXnA/s1600/S5003126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1I8pyNpQZt2YMKOeHlSBKfFUegNfbdenc_fhwK3FH_e0NdqLHZaM1JQFFR68vj2iysle1qQ9sJ-kICygNVVx-He2Dz_UtAnHvptEKSxLlURvkZb1pDe4U_z429vbR_X8jXqQyCSeMXnA/s320/S5003126.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-61672318959501435422012-01-01T00:37:00.000-08:002012-01-01T17:47:05.003-08:00Christmas 2011, In which I go for a rather steep walk (Part 2)Cell phone alarms started going off at 6AM, bringing us into the dawn of a cloudy, wet, gray day. My fellow hostelers and I made our morning ablutions, packed our things, and wished each other well for the climb. My group was going to start off slightly later than many, so I sat in the common room, drinking Nescafe, reading, and trying to fashion a makeshift cover for my backpack out of a disposable poncho. This last part would, unfortunately, prove the next best thing to useless.<br />
<br />
At 9:30 I wandered up to our meeting point, to be greeted by Nani, our guide, and Fit and Everest (pseudonyms, of course, for the Canadian couple that made up half of my group's hikers - the last, Orchid, joined us about half an hour later). We chatted, traded disparaging comments about the rain, and questioned the wisdom of our packing. Once Orchid had arrived, we were on our way.<br />
<br />
We were dropped at the head of the trail, where our passes were checked and our schedule confirmed.<br />
<br />
And so we started climbing.<br />
<br />
Accounts about Kinabalu's difficulty vary widely. Prior to making the climb, I had read accounts of people who had climbed it with no particular conditioning beforehand, those who hadn't quite made it to the top, and those who felt unprepared despite being in great physical shape. I fall somewhere in between all of these. I spent the last five years living in Chicago and currently reside in Singapore, neither of which have any particularly demanding inclined walks (despite the presence, respectively, of the Sears Tower and Bukit Timah). I'm in reasonable physical shape - I walk frequently, participate in sport, bike and do pilates - but I wouldn't, by any stretch of the imagination, place myself in any top fitness categories. I would say that I'm about average. And, for me? It was a tough climb. As Everest (so dubbed because he made that climb not too long ago) put it, it just keeps going <i>up</i>. There are few sections of relatively level trail or of gradual inclines. The first 4K or so aren't too bad - generally they're made up of moderately steep wooden or stone steps - but after that it gets a bit hairy, particularly as we were hiking in the midst of several days of rain. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail map</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKwq6csfiuwWMVxHAlVEd3mkbYpURUCkti9kehKQQoFumB2HWJbNe0vYk_dKWlvBQJ8caO5Yz9Vrz5i0lcqKIOLk_BjLahyaze0bw_a6-Vvm41wXFkQwtOxBbxaDy3dBLNfcnLOP_WW8/s1600/S5003088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKwq6csfiuwWMVxHAlVEd3mkbYpURUCkti9kehKQQoFumB2HWJbNe0vYk_dKWlvBQJ8caO5Yz9Vrz5i0lcqKIOLk_BjLahyaze0bw_a6-Vvm41wXFkQwtOxBbxaDy3dBLNfcnLOP_WW8/s320/S5003088.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to fend off the rain</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjydTSmmAmpufyA3WxU8nEg_WyEkJTUAOm_Xdhq2GgKuK2fkmSPRDdalH1bp0ZhUjETTZZZrFy6tTTVscSNPVRdQNsAajPeu8dlOUJENIpPFYh26UvorfaQ8mFgt8s0bTNNpNLNY_QVI/s1600/S5003090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjydTSmmAmpufyA3WxU8nEg_WyEkJTUAOm_Xdhq2GgKuK2fkmSPRDdalH1bp0ZhUjETTZZZrFy6tTTVscSNPVRdQNsAajPeu8dlOUJENIpPFYh26UvorfaQ8mFgt8s0bTNNpNLNY_QVI/s320/S5003090.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from the bottom</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The trail pushes relentlessly upward, and the rain added a slickness to each step, with mud and puddles forming the foothold for many stairs. In some areas, it felt as though we were hiking in a very rocky stream bed, and past the 4K mark the steepness increased as the terrain gave way to more rocks, clay, and scrubby trees. Here, there were sections where the word "climb" began to take on new meaning, as hands were used in some places to pull ourselves up over particularly steep sections. There's a hut every kilometer or so, and I viewed each resting place with great joy despite the fact that they were densely packed with other climbers thanks to the rain. One foot in front of the other, breathing frequently to deal with the altitude, and lamenting our sopping clothing we continued, reaching the Laban Rata hostel/resthouse at around 5 PM. The scenery here was remarkably different from the rainforest of the early part of the climb, as we were above the clouds and the trees were more bare with smaller leaves. Above us we could see the rocky slopes and bare rock face of the next day's climb. For now, however, it was time to sit, have a cup of tea and dinner, and settle in for the night.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span id="goog_87337036"></span><span id="goog_87337037"></span> </div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were plenty of earthworms on the trail</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plenty of ground squirrels at every shelter, too</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mist was a constant companion</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4n2WRl3CiX9n1LTX5BxjuV_lNVWDYwZLp5Zhu5afwp3NjTl_SDPaHhxu5Khyphenhyphen-f70sCc4b1qGHfVSAg1lpesc5ViYfSPRRwmZpXl0shuekqaIOFLOlvmafjKr9P3azzVAqBn6wyVMdJ7w/s1600/S5003098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4n2WRl3CiX9n1LTX5BxjuV_lNVWDYwZLp5Zhu5afwp3NjTl_SDPaHhxu5Khyphenhyphen-f70sCc4b1qGHfVSAg1lpesc5ViYfSPRRwmZpXl0shuekqaIOFLOlvmafjKr9P3azzVAqBn6wyVMdJ7w/s320/S5003098.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A taste of what was to come the next day</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trail or streambed?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I dubbed this plant my "Christmas tree" with its red bells</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above the clouds, sopping wet and ready for tea and bed</td></tr>
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</a></div>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-81906187064920132092011-12-29T07:39:00.000-08:002011-12-29T07:39:33.367-08:00Christmas 2011, In which I go for a rather steep walk (Part 1)Way back in...September? October? I was talking with a friend about travel options in the area, and she mentioned a hike in Malaysia that was supposed to be quite good. I filed it away in the catacombs of my mind, and at some point while talking with another friend about Christmas plans, the idea was exhumed and later brought back to life via a series of emails and bookings with tour groups, airlines and hotels.<br />
<br />
I've been looking forward to the trip since all the details were planned, but I didn't want to find out too much about the climb. I'm fairly active, but a) I can talk myself out of nearly anything, b) I tend to panic about things if I'm too well informed, and c) I ran out of time. The last few weeks have been busy ones, so I knew in the back of my mind that the hike was looming, but...eh, I'll get there when the time comes.<br />
<br />
Thus it was that on Christmas Eve I found myself scrambling to find my waterproofs (which, alas, seem to be in a Chicago basement), buy some gloves and a headlamp, print off my travel documents, and cram five days worth of things into my little Gregory overnight bag. Thus aptly equipped (or...we'll get to that), I headed to the airport, passport and boarding documents in hand, to catch my flight.<br />
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It's a short flight from Singapore to Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia. About 2 hours and 20 smooth minutes got me there, followed by a roughly (and rough) two-hour van ride to my hotel. The hotel itself was quite nice - very basic, but quite clean and with a courteous staff. I slept somewhat poorly that night, and got up the next morning ready to start the adventure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3DAzOZWq2FzSuX1HQ3alD4eZSJRcIatePbKdYNVMB9LyGFcLPHY_eQjBDJZj6oYUSVeBwYovgcNRyzDb3hoUlMslGNNl7qmEtZmwVkAVkvo0vpO3-TUGIFKITYUvFWGtZtIrq57tw5Y/s1600/S5003024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3DAzOZWq2FzSuX1HQ3alD4eZSJRcIatePbKdYNVMB9LyGFcLPHY_eQjBDJZj6oYUSVeBwYovgcNRyzDb3hoUlMslGNNl7qmEtZmwVkAVkvo0vpO3-TUGIFKITYUvFWGtZtIrq57tw5Y/s320/S5003024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my balcony</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Kinabalu in the clouds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My chipper guide picked me up at the not-unreasonable hour of 9:45 and we headed to the park. Kinabalu Park is a <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1012" target="_blank">UNESCO World Heritage Center</a>, and boasts a wide variety of flora, including a huge number of orchids and pitcher plants, ficus and ferns. It's (spoiler alert!) 35% tropical lowland and hill rainforest, and the verdant greens of the plants and richness of the moss give ample evidence of this makeup. I walked around the Expo Centre for a bit, and then went for a short guided walk of the Botanic Garden and a section of the Silau-Silau Trail.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The park's trail system</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our guide talks rattan</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nurse log</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi5YToinu16xnmRji1nZefUS1feGPg2pnPzmBJvwH-APaKH7Yy9JWSNX82ZTgLdcgLKzG_BkNjizjntpa9B5e5hJN9YacDcTkb_y4MHA0d88OCnodl-jQGaYrrYcp4cfqDPCXT0A6ZSk/s1600/S5003054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi5YToinu16xnmRji1nZefUS1feGPg2pnPzmBJvwH-APaKH7Yy9JWSNX82ZTgLdcgLKzG_BkNjizjntpa9B5e5hJN9YacDcTkb_y4MHA0d88OCnodl-jQGaYrrYcp4cfqDPCXT0A6ZSk/s320/S5003054.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a pitcher plant in there somewhere</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another pitcher</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ7CmaXCQz2A9bcnOmRq3sdLUDx2_MpPb9nOWWWRfzOt5q_IUqNhpi9GDiaZ8N75YbCG648ZSjl0Ls_4DBz0yhCGzvwieoQACLywxpMIGcjD-_6aecIT8wjxIeWHwgfysDy1HCmLN0VU/s1600/S5003058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ7CmaXCQz2A9bcnOmRq3sdLUDx2_MpPb9nOWWWRfzOt5q_IUqNhpi9GDiaZ8N75YbCG648ZSjl0Ls_4DBz0yhCGzvwieoQACLywxpMIGcjD-_6aecIT8wjxIeWHwgfysDy1HCmLN0VU/s320/S5003058.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty and tasty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXtFvYJByF1fIEBgyBSoWzIe71AyHgfkgzZg6wU8PkW99dumwenMwnlXIcXFbod8kjNgYF0OhHSuIypi74BmcVs2VE2meuCXLehEqAgB5qrLKnHaqRSPXdgncCybo2GsGYbWnHEW2xK8/s1600/S5003062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXtFvYJByF1fIEBgyBSoWzIe71AyHgfkgzZg6wU8PkW99dumwenMwnlXIcXFbod8kjNgYF0OhHSuIypi74BmcVs2VE2meuCXLehEqAgB5qrLKnHaqRSPXdgncCybo2GsGYbWnHEW2xK8/s320/S5003062.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, in a somewhat dry moment</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zUn3CgI8Qvzd_ynSS0-hY1mGqS2SBeu7zwabA_KjyxwOC73Khyphenhyphenn18yzdqYKJb96sUTmFgogt0VDAFA0F1t6_k2k8epOs0jUifGfD5l8GdKY6JNaQ9_O3uzJ_DUlmK84HmqT2Osq3_T8/s1600/S5003063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zUn3CgI8Qvzd_ynSS0-hY1mGqS2SBeu7zwabA_KjyxwOC73Khyphenhyphenn18yzdqYKJb96sUTmFgogt0VDAFA0F1t6_k2k8epOs0jUifGfD5l8GdKY6JNaQ9_O3uzJ_DUlmK84HmqT2Osq3_T8/s320/S5003063.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Growing the orchids</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Post guided walks, I snagged a quick lunch, watched a short video on the area, and then headed to check in to my hostel. It had been foggy and misty all day, and on my way to the hostel the first drops began to fall. And then to fall harder. And then it was a full-on, steady downpour that was to last the remainder of my stay.<br />
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Ah well, though, what does one do when in a rainforest in monsoon season? One walks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting soggy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFv2ru8dUnOFe7mK02ck4vsV9gW2oiTf0MT7uSupJVwfxLBPGgviUtjWK6SP1am1QWYy06tfOgMbuah8FxP9ehmlxZFNkvE6RWqT05sgDgjLXwPvqJn6lBrpxHy5Kr8llO4oLy5CX0OM/s1600/S5003072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFv2ru8dUnOFe7mK02ck4vsV9gW2oiTf0MT7uSupJVwfxLBPGgviUtjWK6SP1am1QWYy06tfOgMbuah8FxP9ehmlxZFNkvE6RWqT05sgDgjLXwPvqJn6lBrpxHy5Kr8llO4oLy5CX0OM/s320/S5003072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trilobite Beetle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I spent the afternoon and early evening wandering the trails in the park, sitting occasionally at a shelter to shake off the droplets and ponder the year behind me. By the time night was beginning to fall I was drenched through and ready for some tea and a book, so I headed back to the hostel where I chatted with my lovely Australian and Canadian hostel-mates and dove into Michael Chabon's <a href="http://www.powells.com/biblio/17-9780007149827-26" target="_blank"><u>The Yiddish Policeman's Union</u></a>. We all headed to bed fairly early in order to be ready for the next morning, which would have worked wonderfully well had it not been for our late arrivals. Never mind - sleep is for the weak!<br />
<br />
Next: The Climbcaitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-81342340033237539442011-12-17T09:58:00.000-08:002011-12-17T10:00:34.351-08:00Birthday!(We now interrupt this travelogue to bring you this very important announcement)<br />
<br />
(Okay, totally not an important announcement, just a self-indulgent post where I give thanks for friends here in this far-away place.)<br />
<br />
So, I'm not a big celebrator of my birthday. I'm not afraid/sad/angry about getting old, it's just that with a birthday so close to the holidays and (let's face it, I was a student for forever) finals, it was never terribly convenient to have a party or make any sort of big fuss over it. My parents did a great job with it when I was growing up (no small feat, given their own respective holiday-time commitments), but since I hit just-over-21? It's rarely been a big deal.<br />
<br />
I knew that a couple of people at work knew when the day was, but didn't really think about it. It was a busy week, so my plan was to take the birthday afternoon off, run some errands, and have dinner with some friends.<br />
<br />
Others had other ideas.<br />
<br />
Sitting at my desk, revising a paper, listening to "Batter My Heart" from Dr. Atomic. The door opens. A cacophony of voices start. It's my colleagues, holding cupcakes with lit candles, singing me "Happy Birthday" in languages that range from Greek to Portuguese to Korean to parts in between. I laugh, and can't stop. It's absurd and wonderful - so many languages, so many people I care about, so funny to think of myself in a place where this can happen. I blow out the candles - all of them! - but can't (so cheesy) think of anything to wish for. Right then? Right there? I didn't need or want anything else.<br />
<br />
They take me to lunch and to the campus museum where we chat and view and ponder. I am so, so lucky to have colleagues who understand my fascination with the preserved animals.<br />
<br />
That evening, other friends take me to a simple dinner. We talk, laugh, ponder again the mysterious things that bring us together.<br />
<br />
Today was hectic, but it led to tonight. Ah, tonight.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Friends/colleagues, etouffee, gumbo, zydeco, cake. So many of the good things in my life came together in one evening. Good food, good conversation, a chance to bring these people together to try to say thank you to them for their friendship, their support, their humor.<br />
<br />
It is a good night. It is a good birthday.<br />
<br />
I think? I think 34 will be a good, good year.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwe03ImDQ1SpHFScFNtaXmRTmP2KbtE2xH1tDbKrbDqkOiPIMwy8hFwzMyRR-YlYdWbLg4Zf5Tg_z1AUTlsQSJWwV_UU2rslyDR_7sutIkVPCQvTm0SyzW-XJuwAhQ6PyJfxZiHKM55uY/s1600/S5003016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwe03ImDQ1SpHFScFNtaXmRTmP2KbtE2xH1tDbKrbDqkOiPIMwy8hFwzMyRR-YlYdWbLg4Zf5Tg_z1AUTlsQSJWwV_UU2rslyDR_7sutIkVPCQvTm0SyzW-XJuwAhQ6PyJfxZiHKM55uY/s320/S5003016.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...I also think people liked the food</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-56843681129107063632011-12-09T23:18:00.000-08:002011-12-09T23:18:13.479-08:00Phuket, ThailandOne of the great joys of Singapore is how easy it is to leave. A group of colleagues and I made good use of that trait this past weekend, and took ourselves (and in some cases our laptops) off to Phuket, Thailand for the weekend. The flight was short and easy, and before we knew it we were happily checked in to our lovely hotel, which was right on the beach and in easy access of neighboring towns and things to do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99mBD_XOgOxCJgw_n4hliFeoRqtk9BVf3BbwvlqBaSseq8bkdhACF62tWPvNCaxLfKP4Rv4-n_qz8-6OEikhuWcx9crr-hzgXDrl7QhXgs1gczbTHy-ro6t4XcrJmmRPCp_xWtpQXp1Q/s1600/S5002949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99mBD_XOgOxCJgw_n4hliFeoRqtk9BVf3BbwvlqBaSseq8bkdhACF62tWPvNCaxLfKP4Rv4-n_qz8-6OEikhuWcx9crr-hzgXDrl7QhXgs1gczbTHy-ro6t4XcrJmmRPCp_xWtpQXp1Q/s320/S5002949.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easy swimming access when it was too dark for the beach</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPK9ln_d9fkR__2TL9yfgHLTXPX52Qtq-Kytda8ojrUtgMW6uZ6CPpEaKLdxFmkYpIgi1iNciAlHJrNPqMtw7pLb_soBSKBRXcOmkEFTY1Kh1pVkw_Fb-kRCrsGA1uGAGPceFbU1uUOBc/s1600/S5002957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPK9ln_d9fkR__2TL9yfgHLTXPX52Qtq-Kytda8ojrUtgMW6uZ6CPpEaKLdxFmkYpIgi1iNciAlHJrNPqMtw7pLb_soBSKBRXcOmkEFTY1Kh1pVkw_Fb-kRCrsGA1uGAGPceFbU1uUOBc/s320/S5002957.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out over the ocean</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczVPO0JNNQ7FYYddd3n_y_bVOO7i9dMHtlPTJJmOiRvwcKobIqj0k7qixdoTqqdzXBZuERVagN3c5TMxe19RAhHQq-33IKnDdMZZLHJQjRrdM-1o51Sa-sxMqkZYd8ifAr8x1aQuoBFI/s1600/S5002959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczVPO0JNNQ7FYYddd3n_y_bVOO7i9dMHtlPTJJmOiRvwcKobIqj0k7qixdoTqqdzXBZuERVagN3c5TMxe19RAhHQq-33IKnDdMZZLHJQjRrdM-1o51Sa-sxMqkZYd8ifAr8x1aQuoBFI/s320/S5002959.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lovely spot for coffee or breakfast</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We were a multicultural little group (five countries represented by six people), so much of the weekend was spent teasing one another's backgrounds, figuring out which types of humor do (theirs) and don't (mine) translate into other cultures, and generally enjoying the conversations that ensue when you pull together people of very different backgrounds. It was, in a word, delightful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5eUF58AzMEJDB3L0COxTx5cmGKP2EK4WdO3ICvNukcJ-ncIjizW5HviVg1-aeXTyrCF9ENUvrx3QjFvrSiTbizKjiK30rhzcYNWfiCZ0LD-ORgX2tsLqjnAwx3sHKjY4Dudl9DxEoFS4/s1600/S5002979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5eUF58AzMEJDB3L0COxTx5cmGKP2EK4WdO3ICvNukcJ-ncIjizW5HviVg1-aeXTyrCF9ENUvrx3QjFvrSiTbizKjiK30rhzcYNWfiCZ0LD-ORgX2tsLqjnAwx3sHKjY4Dudl9DxEoFS4/s320/S5002979.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Aside from enjoying the company, we made very good use of the seaside for swimming, relaxing, and (my favorite!) kayaking.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We kayaked out to the little island that just shows in the middle-right of the photo - a good time</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beach was covered with these little guys - very industrious!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlciXC6CUo2RSVyN5eEqWQFysr76ut2e80Y2y2WLgnkQMxGx2u7LOw-osSI_vrKaYYJGL4iqEQ7i44csMqPoyo6eOVQqQEh4ir3p7IB6CoFJUy8OT83N07gX7T1gWPfW7Zy0FH-YWK2g4/s1600/S5002961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlciXC6CUo2RSVyN5eEqWQFysr76ut2e80Y2y2WLgnkQMxGx2u7LOw-osSI_vrKaYYJGL4iqEQ7i44csMqPoyo6eOVQqQEh4ir3p7IB6CoFJUy8OT83N07gX7T1gWPfW7Zy0FH-YWK2g4/s320/S5002961.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a stressful life</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LB4ZemPldQ6bf0yK72NE6Sb4TNtI0ztaSfpHO_EGcuEqSfuLUyKQEDB-5NiyMPxMZJnDrU902pvvv1birKNg-9_pjQ6mn8Cx6R_JxaC2c95OruepQE9nprd3IEQVALvD9pv48wzFna0/s1600/S5002985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LB4ZemPldQ6bf0yK72NE6Sb4TNtI0ztaSfpHO_EGcuEqSfuLUyKQEDB-5NiyMPxMZJnDrU902pvvv1birKNg-9_pjQ6mn8Cx6R_JxaC2c95OruepQE9nprd3IEQVALvD9pv48wzFna0/s320/S5002985.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>In the afternoons and evenings, we went into the neighboring towns to do a bit of exploring - temples, shopping streets, and good restaurants are lovely places to be when it rains.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and it did actually rain quite a bit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wish this picture were better, but the density of electrical wires is amazing</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgnZePpWO6ytqGugPPrcUXKDh_la2vWgYAGRI9mycD0EOs2rCak_F21U088b8ZCnXZDVhSiuGf-22flxQZb2kg82c_4HAUDMispf4v0KG24Dm-19A0gDxU2yjXthrwbfIUxeOrzmAx4k/s1600/S5002995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgnZePpWO6ytqGugPPrcUXKDh_la2vWgYAGRI9mycD0EOs2rCak_F21U088b8ZCnXZDVhSiuGf-22flxQZb2kg82c_4HAUDMispf4v0KG24Dm-19A0gDxU2yjXthrwbfIUxeOrzmAx4k/s320/S5002995.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1QS9q5ii7joKM2HHUJJLHBEa9r7MrrdK5nq7gGFzAkw2yTHWxfUuYHyeXbOvcy_fZBSGCVBHHtKulGpT3vOubHQZp1CRwjx2MEdwQPOfSAw2b0YV2mL5aFUBpsNG5Q9M8dcesWUfBEg/s1600/S5003004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1QS9q5ii7joKM2HHUJJLHBEa9r7MrrdK5nq7gGFzAkw2yTHWxfUuYHyeXbOvcy_fZBSGCVBHHtKulGpT3vOubHQZp1CRwjx2MEdwQPOfSAw2b0YV2mL5aFUBpsNG5Q9M8dcesWUfBEg/s320/S5003004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It was, all in all, a lovely time and a much-needed break for all of us. I couldn't have asked for a lovelier place, nicer people to travel with, or a better time. Thanks, Thailand!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-78063232944647343722011-11-26T05:41:00.000-08:002011-11-26T05:44:41.976-08:00TravelingOh, poor neglected blog! The last few weeks have been hectic with work and, as you'll see below, traveling, so I've been a bit out of commission. This post will cover one of those weeks, however, and I have a camera full of pictures to update on Singapore goings-on. Onward!<br />
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So, two weeks ago at about this time I was sitting at Changi airport (rated one of the best in the world - yay, Singapore!) mentally preparing myself for a <b>long</b> flight. About 30 hours later, after stops in Sydney, Auckland, and Santiago, our little plane touched down in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osorno,_Chile" target="_blank">Osorno, Chile</a>, where I was to attend a conference for the better part of a week. The plane and subsequent shuttle to the hotel were full of conference attendees, so there were lots of greetings, banging about of poster tubes (including mine), and jet-lagged conversations to while away the ride to the conference venue near Puyehue Lake. The scenery, even in my I-just-can't-sleep-on-planes state, was stunning - green, verdant hills and the lake all misty. Sheep, cows and alpacas made frequent appearances, and by the time we made it to the hotel I had been lulled almost to sleep. After checking in, the first order of business was to shower off the plane gunk and head to the reception.<br />
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The conference itself was great. Interesting people, relevant topics, and well-organized. My poster session went well, I think, and I feel that I represented our project and my organization to the best of my ability. Thankfully, there were a lot of people who were interested, so that made things easier. Also nice was the number of random connections that one comes across at these things - people who know people who you know, people who have worked with former co-workers, people who have published articles you've read...the list goes on and on. It helped me greatly to find those connections and feel more secure in my place in my career.<br />
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Outside of the conference, well, I was in heaven. After Singapore's unchanging weather (warm and probably wet is the daily forecast), experiencing some lower temperatures was pure joy, and the sheer emptiness of the area around us was a welcome respite from Singapore's density. (Not that I don't love density, mind you - I do. I just...need some space now and again.) The conference organizers made sure that we had some free time to enjoy the walking trails, hear some music, and take advantage of the hotel's spa facilities. I availed myself of the opportunity for a massage, ate some great food, and wore another few centimeters of rubber off the soles of my walking shoes.<br />
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Bliss.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The atmosphere for the week was marked by mist, rain, and ash from the nearby volcano</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88W9FT-EYeOe-Sp1Ypg3Q2-OdSDQxZl-kFIztJslkHKnFvB2_pZKdllJg5RTXuSBi8VeSA2YAWTVRbQ_fKxUP99-sRG9dmNRt9VRDBP3BcyIMN16QK-_4L3dHpw8c_g4W1emOSz_AduA/s1600/S5002885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88W9FT-EYeOe-Sp1Ypg3Q2-OdSDQxZl-kFIztJslkHKnFvB2_pZKdllJg5RTXuSBi8VeSA2YAWTVRbQ_fKxUP99-sRG9dmNRt9VRDBP3BcyIMN16QK-_4L3dHpw8c_g4W1emOSz_AduA/s320/S5002885.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hotel</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a fine coating of ash on everything</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KyBQ5UAM_qO76vj4NV4SFXBqrRvcaKVEnMSwdISkLTQWJyHebNq51ZV6-RnwYnjSqG9KfbSAej3OqvyOKXCEgdVaillCbHxGU45xSNvB9lF9F1elhEHD8s2weXVkzW66sOVzMqttz8A/s1600/S5002897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KyBQ5UAM_qO76vj4NV4SFXBqrRvcaKVEnMSwdISkLTQWJyHebNq51ZV6-RnwYnjSqG9KfbSAej3OqvyOKXCEgdVaillCbHxGU45xSNvB9lF9F1elhEHD8s2weXVkzW66sOVzMqttz8A/s320/S5002897.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ash made the river water a bit murky as well...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and full of pumice!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mFVVf4AVSywBOR0-SD1jbYKsQLADSMGlogYLew9vMACuOyvvXfOCK_a61znZasFJhk_MdF5UW1B8s8k4A0WggKIJtqysySnGZF392fM_NzPf8AUwtgyrbQCRb9Z2ILn6ccQ3MPOreR4/s1600/S5002905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mFVVf4AVSywBOR0-SD1jbYKsQLADSMGlogYLew9vMACuOyvvXfOCK_a61znZasFJhk_MdF5UW1B8s8k4A0WggKIJtqysySnGZF392fM_NzPf8AUwtgyrbQCRb9Z2ILn6ccQ3MPOreR4/s320/S5002905.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still beautiful, though.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first autumn colors I've seen this year</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the concert hall for a night of regional music</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHje9C_puKBTPApgnrx9wDR4veAOCoc-C4c2LkkxXbrtnVccoZaaWuogrxzrmeb1xaXR45BbiekF6zg26Pok3l2vWwEmNpZ_RvdoRwLK39ueV82NvrSuqvrm45bOGAeDGzm3S3Jt5s_7g/s1600/S5002945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHje9C_puKBTPApgnrx9wDR4veAOCoc-C4c2LkkxXbrtnVccoZaaWuogrxzrmeb1xaXR45BbiekF6zg26Pok3l2vWwEmNpZ_RvdoRwLK39ueV82NvrSuqvrm45bOGAeDGzm3S3Jt5s_7g/s320/S5002945.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How I managed not to slide down this I may never know.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-85572958071013127462011-11-04T16:28:00.000-07:002011-11-04T16:30:09.013-07:00Slacker and cyclistApologies for the silence from this end. The last month has been a busy one at work, which means that life hasn't been too exciting. Lovely? Yes. Happy? Yes. Exciting? No, not so much. =)<br />
<br />
But I'm okay with that, actually. My routines have mostly settled in, I'm cooking more, seeing friends more, and feeling more like I live here and less like I'm just visiting. It's been a really nice thing.<br />
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For those who are interested, we played our first basketball game last weekend. The final score was 23 to 111. Guess which side I was on? (Hint: Not the good one.) Still, it was fun, we got a good sense of our needs as a team, and I didn't break anything. Good times!<br />
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Most exciting for me is that I'm finally beginning to break into the non-spandex cycling scene here. Hurrah! Last weekend was Singapore's first-ever (as far as we know) Skirt Ride, delightfully titled "<a href="http://cakeandcycles.wordpress.com/2011/10/27/billow-on-a-bike/" target="_blank">Billow on a Bike</a>". Andrea and Matt (the organizers) did a great job of planning the route, getting the word out, and putting together a delightful day. The weather was perfect, the company lovely, and the route itself was beautiful and a good mix of environments - from the Park Connector Network to the Boat Quay to the F1 track. Lovely!<br />
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Of course, it didn't start out so well for me...<br />
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We met here:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Shjmvo92IcjscWz2hNvP-d0vLCD5LY6jK9EDL-Ywew31y76BQgo90kZez0UqUTKgUGehWIVj9FKJFEZq8Xmd5K78FcaZUGyY5tzr2DUce1NUbWQXSIlv0Y9FRnEaVnkmTAGwhWBMNAY/s1600/S5002826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Shjmvo92IcjscWz2hNvP-d0vLCD5LY6jK9EDL-Ywew31y76BQgo90kZez0UqUTKgUGehWIVj9FKJFEZq8Xmd5K78FcaZUGyY5tzr2DUce1NUbWQXSIlv0Y9FRnEaVnkmTAGwhWBMNAY/s320/S5002826.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>I got there a bit early, and set about trying to strap my bag more securely to my rack. At which point my bike fell over. At which point I realized I had a flat tire. And no tools (silly Caitlin!).<br />
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Thankfully, other cyclists were more prepared with tools and a spare tube, so my flat was soon set to right.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJ5CG9ZYWgx1SPvK1-ZmDeBBQWoGm2bqcjH-cyimVXjSk5MFguTvq3dch_wGJgmqON911qZL84lc1t_urSWOXYBIrPjWm_K7i0z_LliLNqn5yxT3wm8TBiEf7HDzHWwc5hpJApeXTdHs/s1600/S5002821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJ5CG9ZYWgx1SPvK1-ZmDeBBQWoGm2bqcjH-cyimVXjSk5MFguTvq3dch_wGJgmqON911qZL84lc1t_urSWOXYBIrPjWm_K7i0z_LliLNqn5yxT3wm8TBiEf7HDzHWwc5hpJApeXTdHs/s320/S5002821.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dY36bMerEh2Q2O8YHV6nGm-eiSOjA65puQYJVh70VNnaN-1dNoYtTxzXtjXGtxeeOmnuM7PpyXASkrzB4QCfR3CHuSxjAf6HU8anuyDT3Zoel3HpUfrgY5wK71CmM-LA5ligWYnLqZg/s1600/S5002825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dY36bMerEh2Q2O8YHV6nGm-eiSOjA65puQYJVh70VNnaN-1dNoYtTxzXtjXGtxeeOmnuM7PpyXASkrzB4QCfR3CHuSxjAf6HU8anuyDT3Zoel3HpUfrgY5wK71CmM-LA5ligWYnLqZg/s320/S5002825.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks, guys!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And off we went!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6-jN7hAbSf_HUJS2cURRUhzJCey4zjVBn0WeDj5Hr9Fyk7u5ZOsTviwQt5OVVSL3HiUS8Zk2DTwnxMV2d61YY_cj3BY5uIrTbiMaNeSNHFYtPPjHC4nEEyf-aamDHNTn86_ZjNdDAYw/s1600/S5002827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6-jN7hAbSf_HUJS2cURRUhzJCey4zjVBn0WeDj5Hr9Fyk7u5ZOsTviwQt5OVVSL3HiUS8Zk2DTwnxMV2d61YY_cj3BY5uIrTbiMaNeSNHFYtPPjHC4nEEyf-aamDHNTn86_ZjNdDAYw/s320/S5002827.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Performance on the bridge...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBoH0ZOPvSISXAC2NFNzm-7QvFjuKRJJvEOkQ0D4uLcm9Fz7ic4GTSnlL4hs132H-LTj3nPWZ1draBgteJO4QrH7840V7xroFmTnPcVLhVhrkVYUgGpxzBl_13s3nbKQ0rfbyhWq3hIMk/s1600/S5002828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBoH0ZOPvSISXAC2NFNzm-7QvFjuKRJJvEOkQ0D4uLcm9Fz7ic4GTSnlL4hs132H-LTj3nPWZ1draBgteJO4QrH7840V7xroFmTnPcVLhVhrkVYUgGpxzBl_13s3nbKQ0rfbyhWq3hIMk/s320/S5002828.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">which we watched for a bit</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvePLF6Q-2LtxscJ94KPphZ-6CtJiLphcOFFyelTyWXTEhGiDfP-Rz7EVjRkOjhIcJwd_QmPL4UlD1mVpLyFNvDZU_YNKrohiUV3FQzmkoBLOEeTHLKLBwv5zdOvgSgwwCZb1nEHNhu8/s1600/S5002833.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvePLF6Q-2LtxscJ94KPphZ-6CtJiLphcOFFyelTyWXTEhGiDfP-Rz7EVjRkOjhIcJwd_QmPL4UlD1mVpLyFNvDZU_YNKrohiUV3FQzmkoBLOEeTHLKLBwv5zdOvgSgwwCZb1nEHNhu8/s320/S5002833.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cycling on the F1 track</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_56ahxBSE13g5AGQcLCeRSsxI6Y6zTN3dqeSSbbwu6XrrNClP47eGtoe2Aaucg34oQLrTW5sYaS3VG5Mv_-BWYBK-TgoY6g4O2e3Fg1IJe6J4W9E1niGbKXaz-1gGyeJNn_r-jv_cAtY/s1600/S5002840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_56ahxBSE13g5AGQcLCeRSsxI6Y6zTN3dqeSSbbwu6XrrNClP47eGtoe2Aaucg34oQLrTW5sYaS3VG5Mv_-BWYBK-TgoY6g4O2e3Fg1IJe6J4W9E1niGbKXaz-1gGyeJNn_r-jv_cAtY/s320/S5002840.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2YRtxVuxRiJSRYAxCauivz2JZ1ftQgAI2q6jIMFxYqpsyY805nJQiqHvHJOthGH1tGcaHkugwoZdwneEMiQp8jc32dhKgY9l3G93_lRqrdlDAphnZJQwsYgeP_D8Ked8wBPEWbSu-As/s1600/S5002841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib2YRtxVuxRiJSRYAxCauivz2JZ1ftQgAI2q6jIMFxYqpsyY805nJQiqHvHJOthGH1tGcaHkugwoZdwneEMiQp8jc32dhKgY9l3G93_lRqrdlDAphnZJQwsYgeP_D8Ked8wBPEWbSu-As/s320/S5002841.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The joke is that the Crane is the national bird of Singapore...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After a lovely cycle, we stopped for coffee...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0STHcPDcR-S9Yh5IRYMzcNiDy_iXDU9Qxs9x6hN0bW93Q-Z8AdJymXMm3hSLqoTnsOS-PwTuA39exstSje898qduPe44VIxhDCOfJ8IIm4pQ7owaviLCoqYDzp8ZV_9qvvR9WL2ezfJE/s1600/S5002842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0STHcPDcR-S9Yh5IRYMzcNiDy_iXDU9Qxs9x6hN0bW93Q-Z8AdJymXMm3hSLqoTnsOS-PwTuA39exstSje898qduPe44VIxhDCOfJ8IIm4pQ7owaviLCoqYDzp8ZV_9qvvR9WL2ezfJE/s320/S5002842.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">or in my case, iced tea</td></tr>
</tbody></table>and a chat and rest.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt6cQ9-PE-tdMA_rQJO92alif4AHb1AVBCgjVaLWfnQIfq4dtR36yZbOnJjm8096ZwGEA6hJ06kpl_F3yHCEqNoCy94rBuzIHYQpHcZl-uLnGgMqJdVX44EKtLCtjbJSDkBWEDJ0GY8jY/s1600/S5002845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt6cQ9-PE-tdMA_rQJO92alif4AHb1AVBCgjVaLWfnQIfq4dtR36yZbOnJjm8096ZwGEA6hJ06kpl_F3yHCEqNoCy94rBuzIHYQpHcZl-uLnGgMqJdVX44EKtLCtjbJSDkBWEDJ0GY8jY/s320/S5002845.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1cO97t1hjRg-HY1jzHwv0GgR_xJFKO990F6bZRURKEwEDV9eUuXOytOhPrXLg9uXrRvCy64cWbAlJJv4uBwhb53bA_NhryAUDcOr2eEwpVdOP6gvvh4D-F8RN99s-YqI8e5kJ5lAs90/s1600/S5002846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja1cO97t1hjRg-HY1jzHwv0GgR_xJFKO990F6bZRURKEwEDV9eUuXOytOhPrXLg9uXrRvCy64cWbAlJJv4uBwhb53bA_NhryAUDcOr2eEwpVdOP6gvvh4D-F8RN99s-YqI8e5kJ5lAs90/s320/S5002846.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And then a leisurely ride home after a wonderful day. Thanks to the organizers and the other participants! Good, good time.<br />
<br />
In other news, the rainy season has begun.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TZUBafevpQrYua6ULSIkdgIhmIYCp7wiQOPKVTcdPA9LG9R9QXXPFpA7Mr9cjoiQ5fudAEbyZyAG4d59DyEY0ARR8GoLGQXFEmd2dxlWNVKx2W-zmUgtDbrq95XxSv_Z5AeUSZaGJ-A/s1600/S5002817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TZUBafevpQrYua6ULSIkdgIhmIYCp7wiQOPKVTcdPA9LG9R9QXXPFpA7Mr9cjoiQ5fudAEbyZyAG4d59DyEY0ARR8GoLGQXFEmd2dxlWNVKx2W-zmUgtDbrq95XxSv_Z5AeUSZaGJ-A/s320/S5002817.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the storm</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGVUy1bkFuJEyMzEkdfKYt7q2Rk8dGY2SBCAqjz9UFby0cg77ZoKDiFjlCa3KTmflKL2Go1UsAXDt1mdDOlywvj49QF0rhyuG5o6YaLYohMZqfIvrVhYDdoVD3jXQF6eUVm-E-SWMbC8/s1600/S5002819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGVUy1bkFuJEyMzEkdfKYt7q2Rk8dGY2SBCAqjz9UFby0cg77ZoKDiFjlCa3KTmflKL2Go1UsAXDt1mdDOlywvj49QF0rhyuG5o6YaLYohMZqfIvrVhYDdoVD3jXQF6eUVm-E-SWMbC8/s320/S5002819.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During the storm</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgPaVZMOM3F_thCEqSCArcPvN0fPYwf_NkxS5dmVAX0fU7IlFVM7MwokadkhlWRxAY5Hlf3D5Iads7ueMtQe3R-18TnDjQCB_m7pP_3cXIfvi2RR8FjZa_Ux5KezUiU1TiMwCuo4Gf-Q/s1600/S5002820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgPaVZMOM3F_thCEqSCArcPvN0fPYwf_NkxS5dmVAX0fU7IlFVM7MwokadkhlWRxAY5Hlf3D5Iads7ueMtQe3R-18TnDjQCB_m7pP_3cXIfvi2RR8FjZa_Ux5KezUiU1TiMwCuo4Gf-Q/s320/S5002820.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the storm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-79873945143378391052011-10-10T04:15:00.000-07:002011-10-10T04:15:45.954-07:00Walking tallThough perhaps "high" (in the spatial sense, of course) is a better term than tall!<br />
<br />
It was, in no uncertain terms, a great weekend here on the Little Red Dot. Work, cooking, walking, sightseeing, new and slightly newer friends, rest...a happy time, indeed. Saturday featured Skyping with friends and family (side note: I can't imagine how I studied abroad all those years ago without Skype, Facetime, etc., etc. - so much easier now!), a bit of work (I love my job), a bit of wandering, and then the <a href="http://www.nightsafari.com.sg/">Night Safari</a>. I don't have pics from the Safari (my camera doesn't do so well in low light), but suffice it to say that there were lions and tigers and (sloth) bears, otters, fishing cats, hippos, rhinos, and all sorts of other delightful creatures. The weather was breezy and gorgeous, the company delightful, and the rain held off until the cab was dropping me off at the covered walkway to my flat. A very good night indeed, and I can't wait to go back (and to hit the zoo!).<br />
<br />
Sunday featured a bit of work out at a coffee shop, cooking (quinoa with butternut pumpkin (squash), garlic, onion, sage and just a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese followed by a pineapple/papaya salad), some reading (Christopher Isherwood), coffee, and then the highlight of the day: a walk out at the <a href="http://www.nparks.gov.sg/cms/index.php?Itemid=73&id=62&option=com_visitorsguide&task=attractions">Southern Ridges</a> with some of my co-workers. Goodness me, but Singapore knows how to design a park! We started at the Alexandra Arch, backtracked a bit toward (though not to) the Canopy Walk, and then back over to the Forest Walk and Henderson Waves bridge. The pictures below try, but it was hard to capture the feeling of walking in the treetops, looking down to the ground and over across the skyline. I love the outdoors in Singapore - as hot and humid as it is, the views are spectacular, and they have done a wonderful job of incorporating the infrastructure for the experience into the surroundings. Loved it, and will head back *soon*!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoBBqldDUABwLGYowCi_-sGdz0BbJfUhAgu5NdWJ3GLtpsDtq9B5JV8crHvpa551r-ad2Fnrhu7_T8935pvaHuW-Pt4mm5yWjFZAa5K3Ok-dqBaY2ADb4n3oIabONS-EjCcFryYRlGFg/s1600/S5002779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoBBqldDUABwLGYowCi_-sGdz0BbJfUhAgu5NdWJ3GLtpsDtq9B5JV8crHvpa551r-ad2Fnrhu7_T8935pvaHuW-Pt4mm5yWjFZAa5K3Ok-dqBaY2ADb4n3oIabONS-EjCcFryYRlGFg/s320/S5002779.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkMEB8Pp3WsS6Sk0xxElmP8N5R_HoQ7WvYPPTd8CgFAIonaKJoyQj9fwYZchrqr73CgRdd4IchFVtOnqzjnd1NXiMx4MuDF87kDt69HYleq4Ti2e9T9_kY8dAg2jVKiKNsC2pJXWKr1U/s1600/S5002815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkMEB8Pp3WsS6Sk0xxElmP8N5R_HoQ7WvYPPTd8CgFAIonaKJoyQj9fwYZchrqr73CgRdd4IchFVtOnqzjnd1NXiMx4MuDF87kDt69HYleq4Ti2e9T9_kY8dAg2jVKiKNsC2pJXWKr1U/s320/S5002815.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-50068080616138905712011-10-04T05:49:00.000-07:002011-10-04T05:49:34.414-07:00JakartaOne of the best things about living in Singapore is how easy it is to get to someplace else from Singapore. I look at maps periodically and tick off places I'd like to go, and look at how to get there. It astounds me, even now, two months in, that I live so close to places that always sounded so foreign to me.<br />
<br />
This past weekend, I took of for a couple of days to one of those very foreign sounding places. Saturday morning saw me at the airport at 6:30 to meet the nine other people with whom I'd be traveling to Jakarta. I had met a couple of the others before, but for the most part it was a new set of people for me. Luckily for me, it was an interesting, funny group and we had a good time.<br />
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Not a weekend for learning the city, but a good time for a bit of wandering, a lot of playing and shopping, a lovely massage, and a crazy cab driver. All in all, a lovely weekend away.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The empty lane there is a bus-only lane</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down from the top floor in a shopping mall. Lots of, "Hey lady! You like, you buy!" Hard to explain that, no, I really don't want to buy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This does not even begin to show the traffic</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This gives a slightly more representative picture. We were walking along the roadway - two tall, western females. Lots of calls and shouts...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took a bajaj from the shopping center to the hotel - great driver...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...cramped space!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the nightclub</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicALabnFtvNllArdElorndkrpuuapfATFbkgyF5-grXfuJzVi1qXFLoNZS2_5yMJiZM-90fv3oeJfTFFKBLsLDv5uzp4ukyhyRG6wC1OpG74K4AkNcsAj8gbJTasWssCJ1powMYMIcBao/s1600/S5002752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicALabnFtvNllArdElorndkrpuuapfATFbkgyF5-grXfuJzVi1qXFLoNZS2_5yMJiZM-90fv3oeJfTFFKBLsLDv5uzp4ukyhyRG6wC1OpG74K4AkNcsAj8gbJTasWssCJ1powMYMIcBao/s320/S5002752.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...in a different life from the one I lead.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-85921670533734000422011-09-24T10:05:00.000-07:002011-09-25T12:49:50.722-07:00Bits & PiecesWhen I was moving from [smaller midwestern city] to [larger midwestern ci...whatever, it's no secret that it was my beloved CHICAGO], I was lucky enough to have two sets of friends helping me out. The first group helped me finish off the last of the boxing-up and packing-the-truck, while the second set pitched in for the "driving to Chicago and unloading the truck" portion. Fun times.<br />
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One friend from the first set at one point pointed at a box, pointed at me, laughed, and said, essentially, "You named a box 'odds & ends' because THAT'S TOTALLY HELPFUL."<br />
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Well...no. Not helpful. But descriptive! Right?<br />
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That's the entry for today. Nothing BIG and EXCITING is going on at the moment. Just little moments that I want to pack away and be able to pull out in years to come. Because they make me happy, or make me laugh, or make me ponder. And that's all I want out of life. To think, to laugh, and to look around.<br />
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* Explorations:<br />
I'm trying to take some time to explore the Singapore museums. I'm not <i>as</i> fond of the Singapore Art Museum (Spoiled!) (though I love the acronym - SAM), but the National Museum? Quite cool! Some pictures below, and I lovedlovedloved the video & music in the entry to the history portion. Will post a link if I can find more info online.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr-v_9zEBOTCWTufRuE8pWNzpe1sTdi59ZrYPSVhyphenhyphenXsm-LcjEq_WArppOAXPeMexI-P7S46eO-mfEaxIXvk2GWgu6OZztgXrWXQArsNwL-qMkGevpYl8U7HARxIymQxXZLSoviytyRr8/s1600/S5002695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr-v_9zEBOTCWTufRuE8pWNzpe1sTdi59ZrYPSVhyphenhyphenXsm-LcjEq_WArppOAXPeMexI-P7S46eO-mfEaxIXvk2GWgu6OZztgXrWXQArsNwL-qMkGevpYl8U7HARxIymQxXZLSoviytyRr8/s320/S5002695.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
* Meeting People<br />
I'm trying, I really am. I'm lucky to be surrounded by good colleagues who can occasionally be enticed out; and by other expats who may be looking for an opportunity to socialize.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMyqISqtsX2tUsdweSDt-FxIENpmG0_mP8Zv1sjgvJjyVUHOI5YDeegHIZbChSim9yQZ4BiudDEYfiM6goaRef062JUbsnsaZDO8JFrBXPV-kUl5HXIn-x4LzuxLAD4r3OBBo_Oksp-M/s1600/S5002677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMyqISqtsX2tUsdweSDt-FxIENpmG0_mP8Zv1sjgvJjyVUHOI5YDeegHIZbChSim9yQZ4BiudDEYfiM6goaRef062JUbsnsaZDO8JFrBXPV-kUl5HXIn-x4LzuxLAD4r3OBBo_Oksp-M/s320/S5002677.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A (blurry!) shot of home</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clark Quay on a night out</td></tr>
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<br />
* Sporty stuff<br />
I'm still jogging some, going to the gym, biking & heading off to pilates, but...something happened, which I mentioned in an earlier comment. It's...shall we say, unexpected?<br />
<br />
I went to an expat gathering a couple of weeks back and met some very snazzy people, one of whom I got along with quite well. After we had talked for a while, she asked me a couple of questions which were...not unexpected or unheard of, but perhaps not ones that I usually link. The first? "So...how long will you be staying here?" The second? "Um...ever play basketball?" <br />
<br />
The first question is not uncommon for any expat. How long have you been here, how long will you be here, where are you from, and for whom do you work are the four question that will ALWAYS come up. We're a nosy bunch, us expats!<br />
<br />
The second question is one that I get occasionally. I may have mentioned this? I'm tall. Not so tall that it's the first thing you notice, but tall enough that it generally registers that I'm taller than the average female. I am the quintessential tall American.<br />
<br />
But do I play basketball? NO. Emphatically no! Mostly no. Somewhat no. Maybe no. Oh, hell. Would I be willing to give it a shot? Sure.<br />
<br />
And so I did.<br />
<br />
I am BAD. Awful. Deplorable. I have no rhythm. I don't know the rules. I'm distracted easily. I forget that it's a game. I forget that my name on the court isn't the same as my name off the court because my name? Not that easy for everyone. I got hit in the face with the ball twice and my nose is still swollen. I pant as we run back and forth along the court. I'm still not sure who I'm guarding. I tip the ball in the wrong direction.<br />
<br />
I love it. I want to get better. I'm so grateful that everyone is so patient and forgiving. The other women? ROCK. They're talented and kind and funny and interesting and patient (oh, so patient). I'm a little bit in love with the whole thing. We'll see how it goes, but at the moment, at least, I'm in. I'm all in. I can't wait to suck a little less at the next practice.<br />
<br />
My active endeavors have generally been solitary. I walk, I bike, I do pilates. If I'm a bit better or a bit worse than before? I certainly notice, but I don't pretend to think that anyone else would.<br />
<br />
Here? They will definitely notice if I get worse rather than better. And I definitely want to get better. Mostly for me. But also? Because these are COOL WOMEN who the cool women I knew back in Chicago would love. And I want to be a good representative for the Chicago women. To show that American women can be competitive and sporty and coordinated, too. To not suck and to do myself and my city proud.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-8009873794859385552011-09-14T06:49:00.000-07:002011-09-14T06:49:16.399-07:00Fit-ting in<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEPM_sl4WZSX2P5XgUNDeZQU6Io79ilKAihIIkjY8hkdiVrV8czcuevf_psBDHSL3g25U3jpC0FeoBkz1tmcK14j6JLX5r426Ibg8SC41OUlDzOEC6SKXMuxn1TcrkuJ_zRTFpWZMdc0/s1600/S5002663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiEPM_sl4WZSX2P5XgUNDeZQU6Io79ilKAihIIkjY8hkdiVrV8czcuevf_psBDHSL3g25U3jpC0FeoBkz1tmcK14j6JLX5r426Ibg8SC41OUlDzOEC6SKXMuxn1TcrkuJ_zRTFpWZMdc0/s320/S5002663.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bikes at the Boon Lay MRT station</td></tr>
</tbody></table>For the two of you reading who don't know me, I should perhaps mention that I don't necessarily look like a terribly active person at first glance. Of all the insecurities I struggle with (including, but not limited to, intelligence, compassion, kindness, and patience), perhaps the most daunting and irritating to me is that which deals with my physical appearance. I'm plain and not-small, and most of the time I can deal with that. Sometimes, though? Eesh.<br />
<br />
Today, for example, I manged to convince myself to go to my gym after what had turned out to be a very long (though productive!) day at work. I got there, changed, hit the elliptical and then the stationary bike (yes, better to be on the real bike, but there were clouds! lightning! thunder!) for a total of about 50 minutes. Now, I was working fairly hard. Good resistance, good speed, and the snarky and delightful sounds of my beloved <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/wait-wait-dont-tell-me/">"Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me!" </a>in the background. A good workout, and I headed back to the shower feeling bouncy and energetic.<br />
<br />
And then, oh heavens, the MIRRORS.<br />
<br />
See, I was lucky enough to not see my post-workout self all that often in Chicago. My esteemed pilates studio didn't have many mirrors around, it was easy to avoid them at my gym, and I was great at knowing how to avoid looking at myself in my apartment when I knew I looked like crap. Here, however...mirrors all around. I could see my red face, sweaty hair, and just general URGH from all angles.<br />
<br />
And I know it's all in the interest of keeping up my fitness. I know that it's a process, and that the <i>gross</i> is a sign that I'm working hard. I know, realistically, that I'm in fairly good shape - I bike, walk, hike, work out, and do pilates whenever I can. My camera is filled with pictures of the Singaporean outdoors because that's where I most like to be, and what I most like to experience. I'm working on planning a trip <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Kinabalu">here</a> later in the year because <i>how cool would that be?</i><br />
<br />
My physical ability was really limited when I was a kid. I joked with my dad the other day that I'm in better shape now - in my 30s - than I was when I was in my teens. It's sad, in a way, that that's true; however, as my dad noted, better to be getting better than getting worse. It's hard to remind myself of that sometimes, though. I see the people I'm surrounded by - fitter, more tone, less self-conscious - and wonder why I keep on trying.<br />
<br />
And then I walk back to the office. Or skip the bus in favor of a bike ride. Or catch an early breeze off the canal. Or receive a smile from a fellow cyclist at a difficult intersection. And remember that this is why I do it. However disgusting I may look, however insecure I may feel, I am active. I am trying. And I do love the act of trying.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-53706934309202461372011-09-09T07:07:00.000-07:002011-09-09T07:07:53.897-07:00LuckyIn the movie <i>American Splendor</i> (which is one of my favorites), there's a scene where Paul-Giamatti-as-Harvey-Pekar wakes up in a cold sweat saying, "I got a job."<br />
<br />
I sometimes feel that way. Particularly now, when everything feels a bit unsettled and uncertain, it's a good thing to think. They hired me. Yay! I get a paycheck. I have something to do during the week between the hours of 8 and 5, and sometimes beyond that. <br />
<br />
Even better?<br />
<br />
I really do love my job. I really do love my field.<br />
<br />
I'm still not entirely sure how I managed to stumble my way through working in restaurants, retail, temping, front desk clerking, etc. to wind up in an area where I just <i>fit</i>. My interests, my hobbies, my geekish tendencies all coalesce into a great big ball of, "Right here, yup, this is where you belong." I can, will, have, and do talk about my job and my area for hours. Thankfully, it's an area that friends and family can talk about as well, and have opinions on, and display (at least for my benefit) interest in.<br />
<br />
Which is ever-so nice for me.<br />
<br />
I went to a lecture this afternoon on a topic in my area that I'm particularly interested in, as it combines sustainability, technology, and common sense. The crowd was good, the speaker excited and passionate, and the setting lovely. I sat, listening and taking notes, and thinking, "I'm such a geek! I want to be more of a geek! I want to learn more about this, and how it works, and how to make it work better, and how it relates to things that we're working on!." And then I went to the post-lecture reception and spoke with others in the field, and in related areas, and the conversations were great, and the people were interesting and funny and engaged and I thought, over and over:<br />
<br />
"Lucky. I am so lucky."<br />
<br />
And I am.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-7122599252279287062011-09-05T05:33:00.000-07:002011-09-05T05:33:54.881-07:00And a very happy day to you as well!After my last post, I knew that it was time to start living here as though I'm LIVING here, instead of just feeling like I'm a long-term visitor. With that in mind, I made mental and logisitic preparations for the weekend, and had a wonderful time.<br />
<br />
Saturday. Ah, Saturday. You were a wonderful day.<br />
<br />
The day started off cool-ish (cloudy!), so after waking up early I made the (roughly) 2 1/2 mile walk to Holland Village for coffee and breakfast (a coddled egg, toast, and salad - I love that salad comes with breakfast!). A bit of puttering around and reading later, I headed home to get ready to go to...pilates! Yes, I found a studio not (too) far from me, and they had an early Saturday afternoon jumpboard class, so off I scampered. I didn't like the studio quite as much as my old one in Chicago (though, to be fair, I've never been to any studio anywhere that I like as much as Spring), but the people were nice, the space was clean, and the class kicked my butt (and thighs, and abs, and arms). So there's that. I will, I'm sure, be going back.<br />
<br />
Class over, I took my stinky self home and was about to jump in the shower when I thought, "Hang on, as long as I'm gross already..."<br />
<br />
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Meet Callie. Callie is my dear little sage-green Dahon Speed purchased from <a href="http://www.mybikeshop.com.sg/">this place.</a> The people were incredibly nice and helpful, and I'm a little bit in love with the bike. No offense meant to Sars (my beloved Trek hybrid in Chicago), but Callie is more of a Singapore bike. She's smaller, lighter, and has a tighter turning radius. Sars is the perfect bike for Chicago, and I don't know that I'd be as comfortable on Callie there - for one thing, I don't know how Callie would handle the snow! I don't get the speed on Callie that I could get on Sars, but she had me sailing along on my commute this morning and afternoon, and I was so, so happy to be back out on the road with a helmet on my head!<br />
<br />
(But back to Saturday...)<br />
<br />
So, bike purchased, I rode around for a while, and finally made my way home. Jumped in the shower, changed clothes, and headed out (to the bus - yes, yes, but I wasn't entirely sure where I was going and it was getting late for a first long ride!) to meet up with a Meetup of expats and friends. One of my coworkers met me there, and it was such a great time. Really nice people from all over the place gathered together for a beer and a chat. There may have been dancing. There were definitely fries at around 2AM.<br />
<br />
I was oh-so-very sleepy when I went to bed, and so happy when I woke up. A lovely day, and feeling more like myself than I have since, oh, December?<br />
<br />
Happy!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-58760601809089327362011-09-02T06:37:00.000-07:002011-09-02T06:38:59.261-07:00Routines (beans)I am a lover of routines. I like, yes, to have things occasionally go off the map, but I like to come back to schedules, to planning, to knowing what's coming next. It can make me a bit of a control freak, but...it's who I am. It's what I do.<br />
<br />
It's what's been making me crazy since the move.<br />
<br />
My routines have been OFF. All off. No pilates, no biking, no regularly-scheduled phone calls with friends and family, no salad-for-lunch-potato-for-dinner.<br />
<br />
No Cooking.<br />
<br />
Let me allow that to sink in. NO COOKING.<br />
<br />
I have lived here for just over a month now, and not once had I lit the stove. Yes, I'd made salads and cold things, but top-of-the-stove cooking? Nope. None of that had taken place. And there's no oven here. For those of you who know my love of bread making, vegetable roasting, and potato baking? Please say a tiny prayer over my broken heart. It's just not something that's common here.<br />
<br />
Tonight after work I walked to Holland Village for a cup of tea and a bit of reading (side note: I'm ashamed to admit this, but I just finished my first ever full-length Hemingway (A Farewell to Arms) - loved it). I sat in The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf for a couple of hours, reading the last of the novel, savoring the decaf iced tea, and thinking about things I need to do. Find a pilates studio. Get a bike. Revise some dissertation chapters. Update my CV.<br />
<br />
Cook.<br />
<br />
I found myself thinking about the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alone-Kitchen-Eggplant-Jenni-Ferrari-Adler/dp/1594489475">Alone in the Kitchen With an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone</a>, which my friend laflaneuse gave me a while back. I thought of the essays in the book, and what I've cooked alone for myself over the years.<br />
<br />
I thought of black beans.<br />
<br />
And so I walked to the grocery store. Bought a can of black beans, an onion, garlic, a red pepper (capsicum), tomatoes, cumin. Brought them home on the bus. Chopped up the vegetables with a knife that doesn't deserve the name. Opened up the beans. Made myself a good meal, topped off with some Greek yogurt and Chipotle Tabasco (made in Louisiana and purchased in Chicago).<br />
<br />
Gave thanks for the creation of new routines in a new place.<br />
<br />
And ate.caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-66689862278864740242011-08-29T00:56:00.000-07:002011-08-29T00:57:33.349-07:00Bintan, IndonesiaMy passport says Indonesia, but I could really have been anywhere, lost in the polite anonymity of the resort hotel. The ferry ride there is uneventful. I read (The Solitude of Prime Numbers), listen to music (Fleet Foxes, Sigur Ros, Mumford & Sons, St. Germain), stare out of the window at the rain on the water.<br />
<br />
It's pouring, and the sky is an unbroken sheet of heavy gray. It is perfect.<br />
<br />
We arrive at Tanjung Pinang and disembark. Those of us who need to, wait to pay for our visa on arrival. The woman at the counter is unprepared to make change, and leaves for "5 minutes." She returns 20 minutes later, and leaves again. We are told she will be back in 5 minutes. We wait 15. Five more, we are told. "So, half an hour," I say, eliciting a laugh from the others. But, impatient as we may be, there is no anger. A shrugging acceptance of, "Oh, well. What can one expect?" There is more laughter than anything. The woman returns to a small cheer. We pay up and move to the next bottleneck. Going through immigration takes some time, and some fingerprints. Eventually, though, we are all through.<br />
<br />
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Outside, we wait for our shuttle. It smells of rain and smoke and sweat and fumes. Not unpleasant, as it turns out. Our shuttle driver arrives and we pile in. I end up at the front, with an unobstructed view of the traffic ahead.<br />
<br />
I will never drive in Indonesia. It is cliche to speak of the traffic; but, dear heavens, the traffic. The concept of lanes is negligible, as are safe passing distances. Trucks, cars, SUVs, motorbikes, electric and not-electric bicycles swarm the streets in a cacophony of noise, fumes, and revving engines. Our driver is good, and navigates the melee expertly, but I still clutch my elbows, as there is no seatbelt and no armrest. The trip to the hotel is long, it is pouring, the streets are narrow. it is utterly unlike anything I have ever seen.<br />
<br />
And then we arrive at the hotel. A resort, of all things. Also something not within my usual experience. I check in, am given my key, go to my room.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cvrWQqvagc7d2rrXhbSnKBTRjGNGt_PNayY0QIcLvt8HaxVMKhyphenhyphent6iXvuQQN9z5quenLOwX_6_Rn2bHzY4fedRf0csU8RNjL7CmhNRtNDgxKb87WB6jv13DKP6qqhWfhXKvhyphenhyphenScjIv0/s1600/S5002652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cvrWQqvagc7d2rrXhbSnKBTRjGNGt_PNayY0QIcLvt8HaxVMKhyphenhyphent6iXvuQQN9z5quenLOwX_6_Rn2bHzY4fedRf0csU8RNjL7CmhNRtNDgxKb87WB6jv13DKP6qqhWfhXKvhyphenhyphenScjIv0/s320/S5002652.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The bed is large. There is porch with chairs. It looks out onto the ocean. It is raining. It is perfect. For two days and one night, I read three more books (The Imperfectionists, Comfort Me with Apples, The Spy in the Coffee Machine: The End of Privacy as We Know It), have a decadent massage, walk on wet sand and rinse off my feet in the ocean and then again in the shower, drink lemon Perrier, sit on the porch, eat noodles with vegetables. I relax.<br />
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I check out, and sit on the restaurant deck waiting for the shuttle. The sun is shining, the breeze is cool off the ocean. It is perfect. We return to Tanjung Pinang the same way we came. At one point on the way back, on a narrow, twisting section of roadway, we follow a couple on a motorbike. He drives, she sits behind, legs stretched what looks uncomfortably wide around him, hands planted firmly on her knees. As they spin along the roadway, he reaches back, caresses her forearm, slowly takes her hand, cradles it around his waist, but when he grasps the handlebar again, her hand returns to her knee. He speaks, animated, turning his head, gesturing. Again, he reaches back, caresses, grasps, envelops. Again, she returns. As we pass them, her hand alights back on her knee for the third time. I wonder at their story.<br />
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We arrive at the ferry terminal, and wait for our boarding passes. We receive them, and go through immigration. The immigration officer sees my passport, looks at me, smiles, and says, "Obama." I smile back, and agree. "Obama."<br />
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We board the ferry, return to Singapore. I unlock the front door, and the door to my room. Unpack my things. Pick up dinner. Read and write emails.<br />
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I am, for the moment, home.<br />
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caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-22866416810753909062011-08-28T03:57:00.000-07:002011-08-28T03:57:16.654-07:00Gone and BackOne of the things I always loved about Chicago was returning. From the plane, the city would emerge in the distance as a halo of light, becoming more distinct as buildings and neighborhoods began to make themselves clear in the skyline. There's Wrigley Field, the Sears Tower, the Hancock Building, Lakeview, River North. From the train, the city came through in stages - in the suburbs, on the outskirts, getting to the center, downtown, at the station. I felt most connected to the city when I came back. I'm here. I'm home now.<br />
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Singapore does not yet feel like home. I don't quite feel like myself here yet, and I don't feel as though I'm acting quite like myself yet. Despite work, I'm on vacation. I'm pretending at a life. My routines are coming into focus, but haven't yet gelled. It's a half-life. A pretending.<br />
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Of the many reasons for leaving this weekend, perhaps the greatest was to be able to come back. To bring my suitcase to the place where I will unpack my paltry belongings and begin again the process of settling in. This weekend was, in part, a celebration - of finishing, of moving forward. A chance to read and sit with my feet in the sand and my eyes on the horizon. But, perhaps most importantly, it was to be a chance to accept that I've truly moved. That the lights of Wrigley won't be greeting me upon return home. That I won't enter my foyer to find my bike anticipating the next ride. That the life I built over the last five years is changed. Is gone.<br />
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Back to Singapore. Home.<br />
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caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4214043030641005637.post-89156435418409128052011-08-25T05:40:00.000-07:002011-08-25T05:40:26.045-07:00A few things* My job is sort-of headquartered in the US, so I'm at currently at work waiting for a conference call. Early for some, late for others, but it works.<br />
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* My blog is generally somewhat scattered, but a couple of blogs that I found *really* helpful before arriving were <a href="http://cbsingapore.blogspot.com/">Crystal and Bryan in Singapore</a> and <a href="http://www.jeffreyandflora.com/">Jeffrey and Flora: Living in Singapore.</a> Both are really well written, have some great photographs, and give a good perspective on being an American expat in Singapore. Good stuff.<br />
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* Have been enjoying time out with my colleagues of late. They're a fun group!<br />
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* I'm still trying to get hooked up with a cell phone that doesn't seem as though it's from 1994. Wish me luck!<br />
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* The Presidential election is this weekend, and it's bizarrely unlike a U.S. election. Such a short campaign period! Such a high turnout expected! So much bickering among candida...oh wait, that part is familiar. There's an interesting story in the<a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/eb06988c-ce33-11e0-99ec-00144feabdc0.html?ftcamp=rss#axzz1W2lf53ka"> Financial Times</a> about the whole thing.<br />
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* However, since I can't vote on Saturday I'm going to take the opportunity to head out for a small celebration - my dissertation was formally approved by my university. Yay! All done! Time for a massage. And a beach.<br />
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Cheers!caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04297252902463852601noreply@blogger.com0