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A Traveling Class with Don George

Diposting oleh Unknown on Selasa, 06 November 2012




I literally run along a concrete pathway to be on time for a literary appointment this morning. I run because the last fifteen minutes was spent going back and forth trying to decipher where Swasti Eco Cottages actually is and a long early drive is something I’ve never been good at doing. The second helpful man finally gives me the correct clue and thus, allow me to find my way to what already feels like a treasure quest. Much like Dorothy and the yellow brick road, a continuous yellow flower usually used in Balinese offering, was placed to show this sleepy traveler that it is indeed the right way. After all, yellow flower in the canang sari offering does symbolize the power of intuition.  

Eventually, 20 participants are sitting in the open-air bamboo bale. Few Australian, some Indonesian, an American. A diverse, jovial and eager to learn bunch of people; those classmates of mine. Most of us are inspired to be a writer, some has published her and his works and one is currently writing a travel book. Our classroom is surrounded by greenery and occasional bleating from pet goats in the compound can be heard together with a crescendo of cock-a-doodle-doo and wild bird calls. Don George, a respected and well-known travel writer from the States is our teacher for the one day writing workshop. 


Travel writing seeks to illuminate a place; educating and inspiring people about the world and sharing what one’s learnt in one’s travel experience.“It’s about figuring out what you want to say, what and how did you learned in that journey,” says Don. It is also about excavating and deconstructing your experience. He takes us aroud the eco cottages and shares with us his experiences of editing, writing and traveling around the globe. “A sign of less sophisticated writer is using too much adjectives,” he says and oh boy, don’t we make fun of that statement afterward.


a delicious and healthy lunch provided by helpful staff of Swasti Eco Cottage, we continue our class by writing a paragraph about our experience in that place. Don gives us a liberty to write about anything we find interesting and later urges us to read it aloud (gasp!). For about twenty minutes all I hear are a scratch on paper, rickety bamboo chair being nervously moved and twenty brains excavating hidden, sophisticated adjectives from dusty drawers of dictionary. Few encouraging words and nervous glances later, the first writer speaks up, including yours truly. I’ve been joining a workshop like this a few time and only this time, I find the courage to read my writing in public and that writing becomes the first opening paragraph of this entry. 

A successul piece of writing is when the writer managed to guide the reader to experience what he or she has experienced. Hence, pay attention to the details and always be curious. 

Being in a travel writer set of mind allows you to become a better traveler. 

The Q and A session afterward is truly fascinating. Don tells us some behind-the-scenes anecdotes and stories and tips on how to get published, his favorite travel book and how travel writing won’t make anyone rich but “you get rich in the account of experience.” He even read an excerpt  from his 1978 notebook when Bali was part of his trip. 

This might be the best workshop class I have ever attended so far in Ubud Writers and Readers Festival. I don’t think I will drop everything and take the plunge to be a full time travel writer or a digital nomad anytime soon, but this class is giving me a more thorough understanding on how to be a better writer, an open-minded traveler and perhaps, if I’m lucky and if I work on my writing hard enough, get published. 
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Travels with My Mother

Diposting oleh Unknown on Jumat, 01 Juni 2012


It was not cool. When the other backpackers were strutting their giant, back-bending backpack and exchanging gossips, travel wound, next destination and occassional flirt, I was stuck with a mother in various hostel lobby. I had to sacrifice some interesting bar hopping, meeting possible future travel buddies and other joyous, we-are-young-we-are-free night out. My mother couldn’t speak English beyond pleasantries and although endowed with a charm and winning smile, it would be impossible to leave her alone in a foreign land without proper watch.

She was a true Domestic Goddess. Her cooking, a rich fusion of Balinese, Chinese and  Indonesian food, could easily beat the hell out of Farah Quinn and her fake plastic nails. She loved being home, taking care of her kids and husband, the very thing that we are all dread to become. She loved it. She never had this urge to getaway and leave everything and just go... well, not until I took her to our first (mis)adventure to China. Since then, she occassionally would ask, so where are we going next?

We went to see panda together in Chengdu, awed by terracotta warriors inXi’an, cruising on top of the tourist river boat in Guilin,  a street away in Saigon, shop until we dropped in Chatuchak, met the King in Bangkok and walking around the ancienttown of Hoi An.  She’s way too easy to please: just take her to places with pretty scenery, lots of flowers and fresh fruits, not too much sunshine (neither too much snow) and she’d be happy. Being a direction challenged traveler that I am, there were plenty of time I told her to wait and allow me to read map or asking random locals. She didn’t mind that and trusted me absolutely. 

A friend asked me once, was it not difficult to have her with you? And I said: not at all. She just said yes to everything. How lucky, my Mum would just go all Nazi on me whenever we travel, she enviously told me. 

I am lucky. I am lucky I got to spent all those time traveling with her. I am lucky I made the decision to just took her and go. She passed away last January, right after celebrating Chinese New Year. She went into her room to sleep and never came out. In their desperate attempt to soothe my loss people always tell me: how lucky for her, that’s the best way to die. Most of the time I only can nod, bite the inside of my cheek and try not to blurt: but what about me? 

I can totally roam free now. No Mum to watch over and taking care of. I can book a ticket on a whim and just leave... except that I don’t want to do it. That something is amiss. That now if I book a ticket in my airline customer account, her name is still there, one click away. That I still unconciously googling ‘scenery’ or ‘flower market’ in the country I plan to visit. I just realized, I built my whole itenerary around her. At least, we had that memory. 

I know how grief works. I experienced it four years ago when Dad passed away. What I learned: time does heals, forgetting is impossible, letting go of regret is an art that you must mastered to survive, alcohol is sometimes your best friend and most importantly, surround yourself with positive people. It took me for years to heal. It will take me a lifetime to heal from this newly inflicted wound, but I know I’ll get there. Hey, I’m a veteran of loss. Renoir said it best: the pain passes, but the beauty remains.
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Hoi An Love Affair

Diposting oleh Unknown on Senin, 05 Desember 2011


My 7 days trip to Vietnam was unevenly split. One night in Saigon, one night in Hue and four nights in Hoi An. I’m glad I made that decision. Four nights allows me to really going around the UNESCO Heritage List old town, riding a bike everywhere and admiring the beautifully restored shop houses. After five hours jolty drive from Danang with bus, Hoi An was really what we need. The sun just set and the paper lanterns were lit up all over the town. Tourists were out for dinner and I felt immediately at home.

French travelers were everywhere along with backpackers, all drawn to the serenity and relaxing vibe Hoi An offers. It’s not difficult to imagine what the town was like 200 years ago. There was no trance thumping bars, happy ending massage parlour, Seven Eleven or all those tourist trap that could be found in major South East Asian cities. My four days there was like a whirl wind of romance. I have fallen in love with her on the first night. I could write a lenghty essay on her gracefulness and charm but pictures might be the best way to tell her story, ‘the town for walkers and primitive vehicle users’.

Ten Things to do in Hoi An:

1. Rent a bicycle and get lost.

2 . Go to the An Bang beach and chill with the locals.

3. Fine affordable dining. Try Cargo.

4. Find the Satay Lady under the Gazebo. Roll your own satay spring roll.

5. Make a dress or a suit.

6. Shop in the market. Bring home the best fish sauce in the world.

7. Learn to cook. Try Morning Glory.

8. Do me a favor and stay in Haan Hotel


9. Eat seafood by the river when the sun goes down.

10. Make a lantern. Lifestart Foundation Tour & Craft Lessons.

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Tomb Strolling in Hue

Diposting oleh Unknown on Rabu, 02 November 2011


Hue is our next destination. The old capital of Vietnam kingdom, chosen hundred of years ago because of its strategic location right in the middle of dragonish geography of Vietnam. After a serious delay courtesy of Jetstar, we landed on a small airport of Da Nang and continue our journey to Hue by car. Flying is just not as fun as driving through the land especially if it was as scenic as the trip we took. Our driver, a silent Driving Miss Daisy type, was not much of a company but he was being complimented by his sister side kick, a bubbly Vietnamese girl whose name just lost me completely. She talked and asked me so many questions along the three hours trip including ‘why you no marry’ to ‘how rich are you’. Even coming from a country where curiosity toward stranger was the norm, I still found it rather winchingly uncomfortable. Nobody ever asked me ‘how rich are you’ back home. Along the up and down hilly ride, I saw many small shrines by the road which apparently to honor people who died on the road which was not such a great surprise considering how they drive their bike there. The big question is: if they build a shrine every time somebody dies, will there come a day when the hill would just turn to be a big hill of road kill shrines?

Arriving in Hue at night, starving and dusty, we were welcomed by the owner of the Huenino hostel we stayed in that night. Wait, did I say hostel? It was better than hotel. Try to name one hotel where you were welcomed with cold towel, orange juice, hot soup and a cake upon your arrival and enter a spotlessly clean room with fragrant sheet. That night I had a short but memorable meeting with a couchsurfer, a sweet and by far the best English speaker I’ve encountered, Ngan (spelled ‘Ngeng’). She told me about her life, her work, Vietnamese war and what she dreams about to be. I could see Vietnam in her. She’s growing to be a cultivated English speaker, eager to welcome change and development and more tourists and although scarred by the war and at times uncertain to step forward, will find its way to be big.


We joined a half day tour to visit some of the tombs scattered around Hue. I hate to join this kind of tour but considering the limited time we have, few stops to incense stick stall ormartial art performance had to be accepted. Tomb of Minh Mang and Tomb of Khai Dinh are two of the best examples. If you have a limited time, do visit those two because all of the tombs are similar. Although they are called tombs no actually bodies of past emperors were buried there. The compound has lakes and leafy gardens to sit down and enjoy the view (which was clearly out of the questions for me at that time since the tour leader already waving his flag around). The renovation was partially done so it was nice to see the actual form before the flashy paint job covered it all.

Tomb of Khai Dinh was in fact quite recently made and therefore more “Europeanized” than the others. It was located on the top of a hill so it was quite a hike to go up. The Emperor was guarded in his after life by stone knights, ministers and general. The white stone used in the facade has grown black over time and serious restoration is needed but it retains some of the charm.

Before leaving for Hoi An, we managed to try the local cuisine. We tried bánh bēo, a canape of sticky rice, shredded shrimp and crunchy pork skin, eaten with a drop of fish sauce. A special mention need to be made for Vietnamese fish sauce. It was good, so good in fact, that I have adapted the Vietnamese habit of adding fish sauce in anything that I ate during my stay. I loved it so much I even took a bottle of home along with the instant pho, soy sauce and dry spring roll skin.

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