In Search of Great Apes

The only member of the great apes to call Asia home are the orang-utans, who's three species all inhabit jungles in Malaysia and Indonesia, mostly in Borneo and Sumatra, respectively. Perhaps it's our shared gingerdom, but I've had an affinity for these primates since I was a kid, even toting around a plush orang-utan named "Rangy." (To be clear, no one ever said I was gifted at naming my stuffed animals; there was also a tiger named "Tigie" and a dog named "Mutzy.")

The name orang-utan actually comes from the Bahasa Melayu language meaning "man of the forest." (Furthermore, the "orang asli" are the broad term for the indigenous peoples of the region, meaning "original man."). Thus, to the forest we must go in search of these beautiful creatures!

Sandakan is a modest-sized former fishing village that serves as jumping-off point for a great deal of eco-tourism in Sabah. With its valued location, the former capital of North Borneo has been at different historical points under the control of Brunei, Britain, and Japan, the latter who bombed and levelled the town before leaving the island following its occupation in WWII. Nowadays, the nearby Kinabatangan River as well as the Sun Bear Conservation Centre and Sepilok Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre are ecological draws to the area.

Watching a wild oran-utan come down from the canopy, look you in the eyes,
and carry on its way is a powerful experience.

The Heart of Borneo

On the island of Borneo (Kalimantan), in the northeastern corner of the Malaysian state of Sarawak, not far from the border with Brunei, lives the an area of preserved land that can only be described as primeval. Gunung Mulu National Park, a rare UNESCO World Heritage Site that qualifies under all four criteria, is an covering more than 200 square miles, prized for its biodiversity, vast limestone caves and unique "pinnacles" on the summit of Mount Mulu.

There isn't much to speak of outside the National Park, outside of an airport consisting of a modest building with an airstrip hosting just four flights a day and a scattered settlement of homes of predominantly Penan indigenous community. That doesn't mean there isn't much to see, however! After trekking rainforests in Panama, Brazil, and peninsular Malaysia, I was still blown away at the beauty of this area.

While there are options in the park for solo hikes, the best option is to sign up for daily guided adventures with the knowledgeable local park guides. Whether exploring a cave or looking for wildlife just off the trail, the extra eyes, ears, and expertise is worth the nominal extra price.

Land snails (Bertia brookei) are a common sight after the (almost) daily rains

The bizarre and stunning green lantern bug (Pyrops cultellatus), one of many diverse members
of this Genus, are named for the elongated head, resembling a lantern being carried.

A Malaysian Green Pit Viper (Tropidolaemus subannulatus)
photographed with a zoom lens.

Many visitors come to explore the many and vast cave systems underneath the park. Wind Cave and Clearwater Caves are the record breakers, offering more adventurous and experienced cavers the opportunity to probe deeper underground, sometimes into new and unchartered caverns. Conversely, the easily accessible Deer Cave and Lang Cave are known as prime locations to watch the nightly bat exodus; a hypnotizing, acrobatic spectacle not unlike massive schools of fish spiralling through the sea.

Exploring Clearwater Cave, believed to be the largest interconnected cave systems in the world,
by volume and is currently ranked the 9th longest cave, with new areas being explored.

Openings like this one in Clearwater Cave, allow for life-giving light and water to enter the
massive space, increasing biodiversity within the subterranean world.

Endemic to this region, the single-leafed "monophytes" growing from the stalactites at the
entrance, have carved out a unique niche for themselves, devoting all their energy
to producing just one large leaf due to growing on suchpoor nutrient-lacking surfaces.

From just the right angle, standing within Deer Cave, one can make out the
profile of Abe Lincoln at dusk, as the bats migrate out for their nightly feast.

Four days in Gunung Mulu was enough, but I could have stayed longer, soaking up more colors of green than my senses could properly process and slowly inhaling the ripe, fragrant jungle smells a little more. Even now, sorting through the many failed attempts at photography in dimly lit spaces, I am filled with pangs to return.  I already miss this magical place and hope it's not the last time I visit.

Officially, The Worst

Joan Rivers once famously said, about running, "The first time I see a jogger smiling, I'll consider it."

I don't run to compete. Though I do enter races.  I don't run for exercise. Though that is a wonderful benefit that I don't dislike.  I run as therapy. I run as a way to take a mental break. To replay parts of the day, develop comebacks to things I wish I had said, and run scenarios for things that are still to come.  I might not be smiling, but I do enjoy it.

Smiling because it's over. That's about it.

I ran my first marathon back in October of 2008, a nearly three and half hour out-and-back semi-circle around Lago Calima, just north of Cali, Colombia. Were you to have asked me at the finish line if I would consider another, I would have used what little energy and breath I had left to produce a single "ha!" (of "ja!" if we're being accurate to the local language).  Little did I know that this was only the start of a life-time goal of doing a full marathon on every continent (excluding Antarctica).

A "good" air quality index is under 50.

Since then I have checked North America off the list in 2009 (Grandma's Marathon - 3:24.36) and doubled up in South America with the São Paulo International Marathon (3:24.41) in 2013. There have been a smattering of 10K and half-marathons in between, however, going into my fifth year living in Asia, I thought it was time to cross the continent off the list.  And what better way to do it than run through the city I call home - a first in my personal marathon history - with the Standard Chartered Kuala Lumpur Marathon?!

Unfortunately, despite my best training efforts in the spring and over the summer months back in Minnesota, August and September in Malaysia and Indonesia were not a great for outdoor activities.  Fires set to clear peatland for the cultivation of oil palm, coupled with an unseasonably long dry season, caused a "haze" to settle over much of the region, raising the AQI to unhealthy levels. Thusly, this limited training quality and relegated most of my time to a treadmill - far from ideal.

Clearly this was within the first half.
I wasn't interested in even fake-mugging
for the cameras later on.

When the same human-made disaster occurred in 2015, the marathon organizers made the decision to cancel, albeit a couple days before the event, angering many foreign athletes who would have canceled travel had they known in advance. Lessons were not learned and the race continued, justified by the improved air quality in the week leading up to race day, leaving those local runners just a week to reacclimate to running out doors again.

Long story short: it wasn't a pretty race. The 3:45AM start was jumbled and chaotic. The humidity, crazy wet. Parts of the course, as it was dark until nearly 7am, were potholed and poorly lit.  Add to the top of that my own personal stunted training and you have an easily agonizing run.

No marathon is easy. I've never finished running 42.2 kilometers and thought, looked at bleeding toe nails, and thought, "yes! let's do this more often!" But this was brutal. Somehow I hobbled across the line 30 minutes slower (3:56.39) than my previous personal bests, a sub-4 hour experience I wish to never repeat. (Also, I hope to never end up in the medical tent for heat exhaustion again either, but that's another story...)

As British Track Olympian Mark Rowland said, "The race always hurts. Expect it to hurt. You don't train so that it doesn't hurt. You train so you can tolerate it."

I wish I could have, Mark!  It was a struggle and hurt, but Asia is now officially checked off the list. 

*****

EDITED TO ADD:

Validation!  This year's SC KL Marathon was named to the Top 10 Worst Marathons...at Number 1!  

Haze Dayz

Getting political.

I've lived in Malaysia now for a little over four years and for the second time in that period a good portion of the country is covered in a choking smog, euphemistically called "haze." Once again, this "haze" is caused by the illegal burning of peatland and tropical forest to clear land for oil palm plantations, a major export of both Malaysia and Indonesia.

For a more in-depth breakdown of the situation, check out this guest blog post I did for Earth Mama's International (and then give them a follow).

Obviously, this is an environment, health, humanitarian, and political disaster any way you analyse it. While the burning tends to occur every year, those of us who live away from the fires only find out about it during unseasonably dry periods when the rains fail to arrive, effectively extinguishing the flames. We then don masks, attempt to stay indoors near air purifiers, or leave town to bluer skies (if we are so privileged to do so).

At the risk of entitlement, this year in particular was tough on my preparation for the KL Standard Chartered Marathon at the end of September, forcing me inside on a stationary treadmill for five weeks of "training." Coaching Cross Country also became difficult and a good portion of the season was effectively scrapped; runners can only do laps in the gymnasium so many times without going crazy.

While the "haze" has disappeared and the skyline reemerged from behind it's grey cloak, the spectre of continued and unregulated deforestation by torch remains in the back of everyone's mind.

In the meantime, here is information about avoid palm oil in common products or sourcing from sustainable plantations that are RSPO certified.

This is the middle of the afternoon with, what should be, downtown
and the Petronas Towers in the background.

Depending on the winds, the burning in Sumatra and Borneo covered Singapore
and Malaysia, earning the political name "transboundary haze."

Literally:
I used one long weekend to go as far north as possible for some clean
air in Penang, only about 350 km away and a nearly 250 AQI improvement.

A particularly bad day in September.
(Yes, thats a gas mask...)

Escaping to Bangkok for the weekend
and finding an old Colombian friend: Botero!

And another, actual, Colombia-friend!

You know it's bad in KL when you run away to Bangkok for better air.

My Muddy Confluence

It's not uncommon for people to know more about places they visit than places their from. The convenience of being able to be a "hometown tourist" often lands those sites, events, and experiences on the back-burner, sometimes indefinitely. While I haven't exactly ignored my "home" here in the largest city in Malaysia, I haven't devoted any ink to it either.

Kuala Lumpur, which translates to "Muddy Confluence" due the collection of rivers that meet throughout the city is home to a little over 7 million people when the greater area is included. It's iconic skyline - including the Petronas Twin Towers and the Menara KL Tower - is recognized around the globe. And with it's cultural mix of local and foreign residents, its a foodie, architectural, religious, and historical hotspot in this corner of the world.

In all fairness, a city this large and diverse deserves more than just a single post. Nevertheless, what follows are a collection of photos from the last few years of some of my favorite places in and around Kuala Lumpur.

I could fill an entire album with photos of the Petronas Towers.
Daytime or evening, from the ground, the observation deck, or
a rooftop restaurant terrace else in the city, these stunners are
always a head-turner.

Another, literal, icon. This is a massive statue of the Sri Murugan, a Hindu deity standing
guard in front of the famous Batu Caves. Located a short drive from the city center, this complex
features not only a temple up the 272 steps, inside of the cave, but also tours of the Dark Cave
by science students from a local university.

And monkeys. There are always cheeky monkeys lurking around the caves.

The Sultan Adbul Samad Building, a former 1800's government building,
located Merdeka Square along one side of Dataran Merdeka (ofterwise known
as Merdeka Square or, translated as Independence Square). This area, near to
where the Klang and Gombak Rivers converge, holds historic significance as
the site of Malaysian's independence from Britain in 1957.

While not the largest mosque in the city, the Masjid Wilayah is impressive and has a good
set-up for tours, unlike some of the others in the city. 

The Ilham Gallery is one of my favorite art exhibit halls to visit. Not only is it
close to where I live, but the pieces are usually all local artists, many from
often under-represented demographics, such as orang asli, or refugees.

This image does double duty: it is by a local artist Chia Yu Chian (1936-1991)
and featured in an Ilham Gallery exhibit called Reality in early 2019; it is also
depicting the Central Market building downtown, now a tourist mecca for
souvenirs and local eats near China Town.

The view from the top of the Melawati Ridge, a quartz mountain range on the
eastern edge of Kuala Lumpur. This particular hike - Bukit Tabur - was semi-
frequently closed down, but remains one of my favorites. It amazes me how
quickly it is to get to nature from hustle and bustle of the city.

My running has taken me to many different places, however the endless trails
and potential to get lost and pop out on some unknown street make this park
a favorite. For as humid as Malaysia is, you're always in good company on the
trail - lots of runners, bikers, and hikers at all hours of the day.

Kuala Lumpur on a clear day, in all its splendor.
I took this shot out of the airplane window on the one flight that took this route
over the city in daylight. A little frustrating, however, as I can see my house
from here and the airport sits about an hour's drive away; too bad I didn't have
a parachute handy...

Diving Back In (Indonesian Spring Break...Again!)

Without trying too hard, Indonesia and it's diversity keeps pulling me back!  It's no surprise, really; the country is enormous! From east to west, Indonesia extends approximately 5,270km (3,275 miles) across.  [For comparison, the continuous United States of America only extends about 4,660km (2,900 miles) diagonally from Maine to southern California.] With this great expanse and over 17,000 islands, there is bound to be much to discover.


Along with my go-to spontaneous adventurer, Cecilia, this excursion took us to the quasi-remote island of Waigeo.  A plane ride to Sorong from Jakarta, a ferry to the town of Waisai, and a windy Jeep ride along the coast took us to our over-the-water cabanas at the quirky but accommodating Papuarts Home Stay.

What does one do after all that trouble finds them in a beautiful and nearly-untouched locale?  Not a lot...and that's the point!

Just off the western end of Indonesia's West Papua province, the archipelago is known as Raja Ampat and contains over 1500 islands of various sizes.  Additionally, the area is rich in wildlife above and below the water.  A diver's dream, the reefs here are still some of the most vibrant and undamaged in the world.  Hiking in the jungle brings rewards as well - several stunning species of bird of paradise and hornbills live here, often unbothered by human onlookers.

I made two mistakes in packing for this trip - not enough reading material for hammock time, and no battery charger for my camera so no photos from my guided birding hike. Celia did have her GoPro so our underwater excursions were documented a bit.  The best part of all, however, ended up being the remoteness itself.  Unplugging from the world without any agenda other than watching the sun rise and fall is what a good tropical island spring break should be about!

A few of the "dots and specks" of islands comprising Raja Ampat.

Waiting for someone to bring me another book...

Channeling Aquaman.

My camera battery would've likely lasted longer had I not taken so many
photos of the sunset the first couple of evenings, not knowing there would be
a repeat performance every evening.