38,000 people per square mile

 Many of the crew members are Filipino.  Junar, who makes my latte every morning, is one of those.  A few weeks back, he made a sad face in my foamed milk. 

Koala

Mosque

 

Christmas ornament

In addition to Viking changing the schedule from two nights in Manila to one night in Manila, they told the crew that, for security reasons, they couldn’t have their families on board.  Junar, and probably others, had already arranged for their families to travel to Manila so they could spend their few hours off with them.  Something happened and the powers that be at Viking changed their minds, so back were the smiling faces in my coffee.  Maybe some sympathetic passengers made a stink.  I wouldn’t be surprised.  It was heartwarming to see families touring the ship with the crew members, who they probably hadn’t seen for months.

Masses of people.  It’s Sunday and we’re in Manila, in the Philippines, a predominately Catholic (with a capital “C”) country.  It’s a panoramic bus trip around the city and it’s HOT.  Not so panoramic when the bus windows are dirty.  Probably doesn’t pay to wash the windows.  The air quality isn’t good.  Lots of people with masks.  On the way to the first stop I try to take photos of street scenes, but we have a police escort again and aren’t going slow enough to capture the best shots. 

We pass a lot of Jeepnees. 

Jeepnee

These are customized stretch vehicles that act as a kind of cross between a taxi and a bus.  Junar made a picture of one in my morning late.  These unique vehicles originated after WWII as converted Jeeps.  These are privately owned and each one follows a prescribed route that is identified on its colorful signage.  People hop in through the back door and sit knee to knee along two bench seats.  They pass the fare from one hand to the next and up to the driver, on the honor system.

First stop is the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene.  The Black Nazarene is a dark-skinned wood statue of Jesus Christ carrying the cross on the way to his crucifixion.   Touching the statue is believed to cure disease. 

The basilica is packed full of people, spilling out the sides.  Outside vendors are selling rosaries, miniature Black Nazarenes and other religious paraphernalia.  We’re crushed by the crowds as the guide leads us past the statute.  I think we have the inside track here too, because we make our own line and file past without a wait.

I’m anxious to get back on the bus.  The battery on my listening device is dead and I can’t keep track of the guide in these crowds. Moving on to another church, and another church, I stay on the bus.

Then on to the Intramuros, the old walled city that was built by the Spanish in the 16^th century. 

Fort Santiago is where the national hero Dr. Rizal was held after his writings incited a revolution against Spanish rule.  Footprints in the cobblestone walk mark the path he walked on the way to his execution.  Monuments are erected in his honor here and all over the Philippines.  

 Also within the walls is a government shop selling souvenirs made in Manila, supposedly discounted.  I pick up a couple of items and Bob grabs a cold Filipino beer.  I have to follow a little woman around to five different stations in order pay.  She has my credit card and I don’t want to let her out of my sight.  Back on the ship, I have buyer’s remorse about the purchases.  I probably could have gotten the same thing at the dollar store.  Made my choices too fast, too much pressure.  So, if you’re expecting any presents, don’t get your hopes up.

Grabbed a quick lunch back at the ship and struck out for the Mall of Asia. 

Bob is looking for electronics.  I’m looking for bargains.  Tried to follow the digital map and got lost at least three times before giving up on the Cyberzone.  I found a shirt for Bob at Columbia. 2XL in Asian sizing fits, but is a little short.  I know we didn’t see half of this place, but the crowds have gotten to me and it’s minimally air conditioned.  Back to our cocoon. 

As I write this we are on the way to Shanghai.  It’s raining and cold, in the 40’s I’m guessing. 

Tomorrow at Shanghai we have a tour in the morning, then some free time, and then get ready for the shindig, the christening of the Viking Sun.  We’ll be all dressed up in our finery and in our fleece.

Majestic Mt. Kinabatu

Another UNESCO Heritage Site, our destination today is Mt. Kinabatu, a couple hour drive from the port of Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia.  The best time of day to catch sight of the peak is before 9 AM, but we hope for a glimpse as we climb the winding road toward the clouds.  The peak is at 13,000 feet, but we will only go about halfway, to Kinabalu Park. 

Our guide, James Chew, is from a headhunter tribe, but he assures us that headhunters are only interested in male victims. Trained by his grandfather, he is a healer and an expert in medicinal plants.  He is also a guide and survival trainer.  He has worked on numerous documentaries about Borneo, including ones by Sir David Attenborough. 

Once we reach the park, we disembark the bus and start the guided walk through the Mountain Garden.  We’ve really lucked out with this guide.  He stops along the way to identify trees and plants, telling about the little known tribal medicinal uses. 

Banana

Ginger

Pitcher plant

Lipstick plant

Maidenhair

We walk for a couple of miles through this rain forest botanical garden seeing pitcher plants, lipstick plants, orchids, banana, rubber, wild begonia, and much more.  Everyone wants more information on the begonia after hearing that eating the flowers improves memory (only the white and pink ones.)

Again, we just beat the rain back to a tasty buffet lunch.  The return trip is all downhill and ahead of schedule back to the ship, but no time to do anything else.

What little I’ve seen of Malaysia is impressive, friendly folks and decent standard of living.

Bye Bye Brunei

When I heard that Brunei is the fifth wealthiest country in the world, I thought we’d have a break from the squalor of Bali and Java.  Not so.  

Our port orientation has instructed us to dress modestly, as this is a strict Muslim country.  Both women and men are told to cover shoulders and knees, and no cleavages and no pointing.  We’re also told that we can’t bring large bags, packs, or professional looking cameras.

I’m looking forward to our excursion through the water village.  Hearing of the wealth of the country, I’m picturing a Sausalito-like community of colorful homes.  

Again we’re at a commercial port which is some distance from the main city of Bandar Seri Begawan.  The bus travels the freeway into the city.  The county has a population of around 425,000 and the guide tells us that there is an average of 2.x cars per person, although, I don’t know if this factors in the 7,000+ cars that the sultan owns.

Homes and businesses look fairly prosperous, but the mosques and government buildings outshine everything. 

First stop is a fruit and vegetable market where we just wander around.  We’re all curious about the durian fruit that has been described as so ghastly smelling that it’s not allowed on the cruise ships. 

Next our group boards a small boat for a ride into the water village.   

Not quite what I had expected.  It’s colorful, but it’s basically a slum on stilts.  

One of our group asks the question that we’re all wondering.  “Where does the sewage go?”  I don’t think our guide quite understood the question.  He was proud to say that, because the sewage goes right into the water, they don’t use that as the source for drinking water.  We head that another guide proudly touted the efficiency of the catfish immediately gobbling up the solid bits.

 

We got off the boat and walked across the rickety wooden paths that run throughout the village.  Supposedly 30,000 people live here, even though the government has built and offers apartment housing for anyone who wants.  The village includes numerous communities all with schools, fire stations, and police and of course mosques.  Water taxis carry people back and forth.

After the water village we are dropped at the Malay Technology Museum, better named a cultural museum.  We breezed through galleries of models of colonial Brunei scenes.  The building itself was dated and smelled of mold.  A fellow passenger insists on taking our picture in this stairway because she thought it was so beautiful.  No accounting for taste, but here we are.

One last spin through the city for a look at some more opulence, the sultan’s palace (1,788 rooms, 257 bathrooms, 110-car garage) and prestigious mosque (5,000 worshipers)  were so big that they wouldn’t fit into the frame of the camera.  So, this is just a typical ordinary mosque.

No beer here.  Back to the ship.

Police escort in Java

We’re in for another long day, and if Bali is any indication, half of that time will be spent in traffic. 

We’re going to Borobudur, about 60 miles out of the Port of Semarang in Java, Indonesia.  Much to our surprise, our convoy of buses was escorted out of the port by police, one leading the way and one bringing up the rear.  Streets were flooded from the overnight rain and I expected that the police would drop off once they guided us through the standing water and around the detours.  Instead, they were with us the entire trip to Borobudur and remained with us all day to escort us back to the ship. Consequently, we were rarely stalled in traffic and my photos were all taken from the window of a speeding bus.  Surprisingly, I was able to get a few good ones of the rice fields along the way.

We had the usual refreshment/shopping break along the way.  The ship would be having an Indonesian night the following night and guests were encouraged to dress in native attire.  Indonesia is known for its batiks and there were shopping opportunities in both Bali and Java to purchase batik sarongs.  The fabrics were varied and lovely but I’m not a good shopper under pressure.  I like a leisurely browse, so this kind of shopping is not for me. 

Borobudur is the single largest Buddhist structure anywhere on earth. 

It was likely founded as a religious site in the 8^th century, serving the Javanese Buddhist community which at that time is strongly influenced by Hinduism.  It is believed to have taken 75 years to complete.  Abandoned in the 14^th century following the decline of the Hindu kingdom and the Indonesian conversion to Islam, it lay hidden for centuries under layers of volcanic ash and jungle vegetation.  It was rediscovered in 1814 when Java was under British administration and is today a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Once at the site, we followed our guide to climb to the top of the structure in the prescribed clockwise route.  Along the way the guide described the life of Buddha as depicted in the 1400+ reliefs set into the walls. 

He even sat down on the ground and demonstrated some of the mudra, or hand gestures, seen in the 432 Buddha statutes at Borobudur. 

During the bus ride the guide had explained about the architecture and the significance of the 4:6:9 ratio in the dimensions and in the decoration.  (For example:  432-the number of Buddha statues 4+3+2=9; 504-the total number of Buddha’s 5+0+4, etc.)

Many of the Buddha’s are missing limbs.  Heads especially, have found their way into museums around the world.

Along the clockwise route and at the top is a proliferation of bell-like features called stupas.  In fact, the entire structure which was constructed around an existed hill, is in the shape of a stupa.  The stupas at the top contain Buddha statues.

We broke away from our slow moving group, climbed to the top, enjoyed the view and got our photos.

Then we descended and grabbed a bit of shade on the way to the Indonesian buffet lunch, just missing the downpour. 

Back on board, and with the police escort having waited for us, we settled in for the return trip.  The shopping (of course) stop on the way back was in the guise of a shadow puppet performance, Wayang Kulit which is uniquely Javanese or Balinese.  The performance takes place behind a lit screen, the performers seated behind the screen and the audience in front.

 The performer is generally a single narrator who operates the numerous puppets while narrating the story, sometimes for as long as nine hours.  In addition to the narrator there are singers and other musicians.  This medium is so much a part of the culture that the story is often used to convey a message from the government to the people.  One such message is the promotion of birth control to young married couples. 

Back on the bus our guide miscounted our numbers a couple of times before he realized we were all accounted for.  The police escort waited for us and caught us up with the rest of the convoy.  This was the hair-raising part of the trip while we wove in and out of oncoming traffic, making our own lane.

Finally back to the comforts of cabin #3061.