Everyone, except for the boat staff, was still fast asleep. We exchanged greetings (“Morning! π”)
I went to the upper deck to watch the sunrise.
A few moments later, they ring the bell to wake people up and get ready for breakfast.
It was a 3-dive day and the itinerary was: breakfast, dive, rest/snacks, dive, rest/lunch, dive, rest, go home
our equipment on the lower deck/wet area
the captain who gave out most of the general briefings
They kept mentioning sharks because the spots we went to were known to have frequent sightings of them. We did see a lot of marine life like the day before but there weren’t any sharks around.
Eel
photobomb!
super cute!
I was pretty stoked to see the turtle. I didn’t spot it right away and somebody had to point it out because its shell was camouflaging. It was just out there looking for stuff to eat.
I see youuuuuu
When I first took up diving, I was pretty much stoked at everything. I remember tripping out on seaweed under us when we were practicing our breathing, “Oooh look at the way it moves! So cool!” π Silly.
Thereβs an instant change of pace when we dive.
Humans in the industrial world = hustle, hustle, hustle; to marine life = flow.
It really puts things in perspective for me. I take all the troubles and worries I have on land and let the water cleanse my soul.
I meditate on a fairly regular basis and depending on how stressed I am, sometimes it takes me a while to get to that relaxed state of being. But when I dive, I get there almost instantly.
Don’t get me wrong: there are all these important things you have to know and keep in mind and such but once you get comfortable with it, then you start reaping the therapeutic benefits.
When this guy showed up though, the feeling was a mixture of peacefulness and elation.
I wish I can elaborate better how I felt because there will be no technology nor any kind of art – no matter how skilled – that humans can make or simulate than that of the technology of nature to have the capacity to bring this life.
And yet here I am sharing photos and writing about it despite knowing what I’ve previously stated.
What can I say?
I’m just a fool.
I was pretty amazed at its size (about 3-4 metres/15 ft). It was the first big fish I’ve ever seen but I found out later on that this size is actually average for Mantas.
It was beautiful.
It didn’t move like the rest of the fish. Don’t quote me on this but I think they’re dubbed βGhosts of the Seaβ or something of the sort because of the way they move. They move like they’re gliding more than anything.
It felt so peaceful.
It showed up at the latter end of the last dive. We were in the middle of our safety stop when it showed up. Several of us followed it around. It did a couple rounds around us before it left. Apparently, Mantas are very curious.
We started packing up when we got back to our ship. Got our stuff, went on the ferry, then onto the van to drop everybody off.
When I got back to the hostel, I started looking up things to do.
I was bored.
My mother emailed me and told me about Cambodia, “You’re already in that part of the world; might as well.”
“Wtf am I gonna do in Cambodia?” All I wanted to do was dive and it didnβt strike me as a good dive destination.
“Angkor Wat,” she replied.
I looked it up. π± “Holy shit! Cambodia, here I come!”
The temple(s) looked amazing.
I got my stuff in order and booked a ride and a flight right away. I was pretty iffy at first. Even though I was after the temples, I didn’t want to have any days where I wouldn’t have the option to dive. Period. I was quite stubborn on this matter but I fell short on the research, as I had found out after booking everything, that the ocean was a 9-hour ride from Siem Reap (where the temples are located). “It’s a good thing I only booked 4 days then,” I thought.
Lotsa photos on this but here’s the gist of how my tours went… (Banteay Samre: getting down is actually worse because the stairs were so steep, you had to do it sideways and/or, essentially, climb down).
There was some sort of fee for visitors who are non-Cambodian that was only payable by cash. I hate carrying cash (yeah, I know it’s useful but it’s so gross). I don’t speak Khmer nor did I do any sort of research about Riel (Cambodian currency) before I got there (because things were booked on the fly) so I had to gΜΆuΜΆeΜΆsΜΆsΜΆ withdraw by pressing buttons that looked right (numbers are written the same way).
I didn’t encounter any issues, which was nice.
The airport offered different options for rides.
I figure I can ride a van or a cab at home and the motorbike didn’t have any room for my stuff so I opted for a Tuk-tuk.
It was super cool.
When I got off, the driver offered to be my ride for the temples.
My very own Tuk-tuk? Yes, please.
“4 o’clock, OK?” he said. “4 in the morning?” I confirmed.
“Yes. We go there early so you can watch sunrise.”
“Alright.”
“4 o’clock!” he insisted.
“Yeah, yeah don’t worry I’ll be up.”
I was starving by the time I got to my room. There was a restaurant at the place I stayed in but I wanted to check things out.
I ended up ordering some food from a street vendor right by the market (about a 5-minute walk from where I stayed)
I walked in the market a bit. Here are some photos in the afternoon and evening.
local Khmer art
sat and ate here
I got up around 3:30am the next day. I had some coffee and mixed nuts for breakfast (nothing was open yet).
There were a lot of tourists at the temples, which shouldn’t really come as much of a surprise. What I did was a pretty tourist-y but I was still super stoked nonetheless. I couldn’t believe I was there, watching the sunrise over a 160-hectare, 12th century-old, largest religious monument in the world.
I love BBC-legit places that look Photoshopped.
Angkor Wat
cardio
me trying to look cute right before a heat stroke
I didn’t ask her to pose. She was just there and I was like, “Well that’s a perfect shot for like an ad for a lotion or shampoo or something?”
ancient twerking. dunno what kinda music tho
I eventually got a guide book about the temples because I kept wishing that I knew some of the stories and history that went on. Once I left Cambodia though, I wasn’t too keen on reading it anymore. Theoretical studies are so much more interesting when paired with experiential and immersive learning. I find that when it’s just purely academics, it gets boring really fast. It just becomes about the marks (not a bad thing if you’re in school – it’s a good factor, among many, to base decisions from and give ourselves some economic mobility much like how the world needs metrics. We’re living in a world of industrialism after all. Even indigenous people have some form of barter and system).
Super old school, elaborate emojis that were programmed with chisels and hammers. I don’t think they implemented a diversity clause though. It’s all just Asians.
On that note, I’m not going to bore you with theoretical details but I hope you enjoy these photos in as much as I loved pΜΆlΜΆaΜΆyΜΆiΜΆnΜΆgΜΆ ΜΆhΜΆiΜΆdΜΆeΜΆ ΜΆnΜΆ ΜΆsΜΆeΜΆeΜΆkΜΆ ΜΆwΜΆiΜΆtΜΆhΜΆ ΜΆtΜΆhΜΆeΜΆ ΜΆGΜΆoΜΆdΜΆsΜΆ ΜΆaΜΆnΜΆdΜΆ ΜΆGΜΆoΜΆdΜΆdΜΆeΜΆsΜΆsΜΆeΜΆsΜΆ taking them.
Tag. You’re it.
It was challenging, at first, trying to find my way around these places as they were like mazes. I kept referring to the maps but then right around Ta Keo (the 3rd one I visited), I started getting used to it. I was using Western cardinal directions (North/East/South/West). I had a conversation with a local Cambodian which was rather difficult but doable with a translator (their official second language is French). Apparently, in Khmer, they have Northeast/south and Southeast/west as separate main directions on its own vs the Western one.
Everything was taken with my smartphone (Huawei P20 Pro).
Bayon Temple
these two wouldn’t stop flirting
Angkor Thom
twerk? what’s that?!? can you do THIS?
Ta Keo
This was NOT an easy climb.
Khmer cardinal directions, apparently
Ta Prohm
it’s pretty but this guy kinda ruined my shot. he wouldn’t leave. prick.
Banteay Kdei
Preah Khan
(Gelene’s personal favourite. She doesn’t know why though)
Banteay Srei
Banteay Samre
We popped by this place below. I forget what it’s called but I loved it.
This pretty much sums up the make of my dream home: just add some more barriers for privacy plus security things or something + an orthopedic mattress + running water + flush toilets. The hammocks stay.
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I checked out Angkor Dynasty Theatrical Show (no photos, unfortunately – wasn’t allowed but highly recommended. It was amazing) on my first night. I finished all the tours that I wrote/photographed about within 2 full days.
Angkor Grand Theatre
There was other stuff to do, some of which I checked out real quick, but it didn’t really spark my interest. By the end of the second day, I was bored.
Flashback to when I got back from the liveaboard: Business for the dive shop I got the liveaboard package with was suffering due to the pandemic. I talked to the owner about lead generations and such and brought up the company I work for (marketing-based software startup). The owner said he’d give it some thought but I contacted our team right away to give them a heads up, just in case. That’s when I found out that one of my peers used to be a divemaster, based in one of the smaller islands around Phuket. Phi Phi was in my list of potentials as I didn’t want to stay in Phuket because I’ve been there but someone told me that it was closed (later found out that this was inaccurate info – it was just the area where “The Beach” was shot that was closed).
My friend’s recommendation was perfect.
I had two more days before the flight back to Phuket but all I wanted to do was get back in the water so I cut Siem Reap short and booked one back for the next day. It was a last-minute decision and there weren’t any options for flight times. The schedule sucked (transport connections to my destination – 1 connecting flight, van ride, ferry – were not synced at all) but I went for it anyway.
I packed my stuff and looked up the trans connections to the island before going to bed.
There was an 8-hour layover in Bangkok between my connecting flight to Phuket (Siem Reap -> Bangkok -> Phuket). The only available tickets were ones where I had to go to a different airport in Bangkok than the one I had arrived in (Don Mueang -> Suvarnabhumi). Quite a hassle, but it’s good that I had an ample amount of leeway for error: “What does that say? Is that my bus? Or will this one be taking me somewhere else? Don’t get lost, Gelene.”
The bus ride to the other airport was cool. It would’ve been cooler to check out Bangkok but I was pressed for time and I was way too tired to make any more stops. I just wanted to get in the water and lie on a hammock for hours somewhere, nowhere.
When I arrived at the airport, I had about 6 more hours before the connecting flight. It was in the wee hours of the morning so I was looking for a place to sleep. I found one of those sleep capsule things and booked it for several hours. It was surprisingly very comfortable.
I fell asleep in no time.
I got up a little later than I had intended so I rushed to the flight, which I didn’t miss. When I arrived in Phuket, I still had about 3 hours before the departure of the ferry that would take us to the islands, so I ate a proper breakfast at the airport. I was exhausted so I just booked an airport cab.
I took my sweet time with everything and still had over an hour wait at the pier. I changed to a swimsuit, shorts, and sandals right away. The airport and plane ride may have been cold but it was super hot out.
I didn’t know that the ferry was to stop by Koh Phi Phi. It was gorgeous but as soon as I got off the ferry, the busyness and commercialization of the island felt like a slap in the face. Phi Phi was very pretty but way too crowded for me. I enjoyed my lunch there though. I got some fresh coconut water with a couple shots of rum.
I got back on the ferry and a couple hours later, we finally arrive.
Koh Lanta was niiiiiiiceee.
I loved the vibe right away. It was quiet, chill, and low-key.Β
Β
My preferred transport of choice was Tuk-tuks because I really like those, apparently. It’s just a cool cultural thing for me, I think. Like the Philippines has tricycles and Thailand has Tuk-tuks.
Hello Kitty… yep, this was the one. Go hard Asian or go home. Bonus points for pink
Funky Fish was awesome. The bungalows had its own hammock… SOLD!Β Bonus points for random graffiti/art on the side of the bungalows and view of the sunset from the bar. π― π
I searched for a dive shop right away but they told me that they were hooking me up with one the next day. So IΒ decided to get comfy in the new room. I unpacked my bag, had a lizard jump out of it, shrieked, calmed down, organized my stuff, and headed out.
I walked around the area a bit and that evening, for dinner, I got a can of Chang and drank it with Pad Thai. I’m not much of a beer drinker these days but I thought that beer was pretty yummy.
on the hammock where I spent many hours staring at the trees sway, enjoying the gentle breeze and the sounds of nature being all poetic and shit
I woke up around 4:30ish in the morning the next day (that’s just my norm now, unfortunately. I can’t seem to sleep in anymore). I went outside and heard the Athan (Islam call to prayer – Thailand is predominantly Buddhist but Koh Lanta was predominantly Muslim). I went back to my room, thinking it was my phone. I have the Athan on one of my alarms. I got a couple of Muslim friends who introduced me to it. It’s just a nice, peaceful, wakeup vibe for me. I love listening to it when I’m in chill/pensive mode, “Hmm I guess I forgot to turn off the alarm on my phone?” I checked my phone. It wasn’t even on, “Wtf? Where is that coming from?” I went outside again to check. That’s when I realized that it was the real thing. Hah! It was amazing! I couldn’t believe it! It was beautiful. It really was. π
I stayed on the hammock and just listened to it until sunrise. Then I ate breakfast and met up with a freelance divemaster (I don’t actually know how this industry works but I gather you can be employed full-time or part-time or you can freelance much like many other industries?)
We got acquainted and hung out at the beach. “Yeah my first bed here was so hard. My back was not happy.” I told him “Oh yeah, no. It’s like that everywhere here,” he added, “I got excited when I got in my room, jumped in my bed and ended up with a big bruise on my head.” he added (I couldn’t stop laughing π€£) “So what equipment do you have?” he asked. “Nothing. I don’t really dive enough to warrant much investments there.” “Yeah, but you have a mask, right?” “No.” “WTF? I keep telling people, ‘Get a mask. It will make all the difference. Get. A. Mask!'” “Yeah but I don’t even know how to pick one.” “Suck it on your face! Man, wtf? That’s the first thing we tell you!” “That’s what everyone says. I did that but they all feel the same to me. It doesn’t make any sense!” “How often do you have to clear your mask?” (Water tends to get in and you have to slightly push it back at an angle and blow it out) “I don’t know, like, every 10-ish minutes, probably?” “That’s a lot. Trust me on this one. I’ll hook you up tomorrow.”
We couldn’t book any dives that day because we have to notify the shops at a certain time the day before (not the day of) so I just chilled and checked out the market.
My inner hippie was very amused. I didn’t end up getting anything though ’cause half of what I packed was for people I was to see in the Philippines so I was essentially lugging it around. I was tempted to chuck it but it wasn’t mine to get rid of.
We went to shop that sold masks. I rented three masks for me to try on three dives and if I ended up buying one, they were to deduct the rental fee, which was nice of them.
It’s always good to test equipment before going live so, whenever you can, I suggest to take that opportunityβ¦ unlike what I did with my sports cam and divewatch… π€ (I didn’t have time though yo #DontJudgeMe) Oh, man. He was right. Using a mask that fit right made all the difference. I didn’t even notice it until I had to clear for the first time, “Woah! I haven’t cleared ’til now! Whaaaaatttt!?!? This is awesome!!!” It was one of those micromasks that I’ve never used, nor even heard of, before. Fucking brilliant. I went diving with him for a couple days. There were a few things that stood out to me in those times. I don’t remember their exact order, but Iβll share with you some of the notable moments
There was one time where he had briefed myself and a couple others on some of the types of fish we may see, and so on. There were 2 other people with me. There was this Brit who’s been living there for 10 years doing Reiki/Yoga/Alternative Healing things and then there was his son.Β
When the divemaster was done, he said, “Alright, cool. Got it?” “Sure?” I replied. “No, don’t worry I’ll point it out. You’ll see this fish camouflaged. I’ll point it out.” The Brit was more familiar with the fish. “I’ll point it out with him,” he told me. “Yeah, but like honestly if I don’t spot it within seconds, I’m probably just gonna shrug and ‘whatever’, do my own thing or look at other stuff,” I said “That’s cool. It’s my job though [to know the fish], and as long as you stick with the group⦔ said the divemaster. “Of course,” I replied. As a recreational diver, it’s good to know these things too, but with more leniency for me than for him on that account. That said, even if he didn’t know everything, I wouldn’t have taken it against him. If it’s your job, you should know more than the average folk but no one has answers to everything and no one has 100% perfect scope (hah! I wish!).
The Brit showed me a fresh wound right before we jumped. “I got it when I was biking here,” he said as he uncovered it from the bandage. It was something about the pedal and chain going lose and his knee hitting some parts. “That looks naaassssttyy,” I said. “It’ll be fine.” “Ocean disinfectant?” “That’s what I’m hoping.” (Disclaimer: not always a good idea, depending on how clean the water is, you might get infections… our spot was clean though so I think he was good)
We went diving on a site with a shipwreck. I assumed it was purposely sunken like a lot of them (haven’t gone to real WWII ones like the ones in Palawan) but apparently, it wasn’t. It supposedly sank some 10 years ago because of some accident.
History coolness factor that you can explore underwater: lame AF.
General coolness factor: still pretty fucking cool in my books.
Check out these fishies who weren’t shy at all.Β
selfie
They kept surrounding us. When I swam towards them, they would either break up a bit then surround me again or they would just slightly swim away together then come closer. I loved it. I avoid touching stuff though. Being able to do this is a privilege. We’re just visitors: much like the stuff I was supposed to give away to folks I was gonna see in the Philippines that weren’t mine to chuck, marine life isn’t ours to fuck with either. Please be mindful when you’re down there. Also, things are gross and slimy anyway like sea cucumbers… *shudder* #NeverAgain Yuck.
…
Then there was a time when I had to cancel a dive for the first time, ever.
It was just me and the divemaster at that time.
Once we jumped in, I looked down. It seemed dark. I put my mask on and looked down again for a better assessment. It was still dark, “We’re going here? I can’t see shit!”
“Yeah, I know. But let’s go down there and check,” the divemaster said. Sometimes shallow waters have bad visibility but then you go a little deeper and it’s much better. That was notΒ the case there. I forget which spot it was but there was a wall of corals. We separated from the other groups and checked out another side.
Up until then, I’ve never known what 1-2 metres (3-6 ft) of visibility was like. We were about 26 metres deep and I kept thinking, “Give it a few more minutes…” About 15 minutes in, I was just getting creeped out. “No, no. I don’t wanna cancel! No! It might get better! It might get better!” Canceling the dive crossed my mind several times before I finally called it. I was pretty bummed out,Β As soon as I signaled to cancel, he asked if I was OK. I signaled that I was fine but the visibility was bad (point to my eyes + point to surroundings + “so-so” hand gesture, then “cancel” signal, then “ascend” signal). I noticed he kept checking my equipment and looking at my entire setup while constantly asking me if I was OK while ascending. He was pretty worried. If I were the divemaster I’d be worried too. I feel like there should be a specific hand gesture for, “This visibility sucks. Let’s get outta here” just to be clear that you’re fine type thing and divemaster isn’t fucking freaking out, “Holy shit is she out of air? Is her BCD OK? What’s going on?!?” Poor thing.
legit
I don’t think I can ever be a divemaster. It’s such a crazy responsibility. Imagine losing someone underwater? I can see myself taking the courses for fun but I feel like I’d only take my friends and family because if I lose them it’s just my friends and family like who cares, whatever.
I sulked on the boat for a bit when we got back. I hated canceling. But like some 8-year old once said, “Sometimes you just need to take a nap and get over it.” So I napped, got over it, and ate a banana. Great advice.
…
There was another time when I was in the water and I had seen some things I wanted to take a shot of, but my camera was running low on battery. I didn’t mind so much because I wasn’t that fixated on them. I kept trying to turn it on though and I was able to sneak a shot here and there (out of juice but not completely squeezed so I was able to still push a little).
When we were about to ascend, the divemaster shakes my leg, pretty strongly. I got a bit concerned because of the force he used so I quickly look at him. He points to a dark area. I signal, “What?” Three other divers were looking towards it. Another diver and I look at each other. I signal, “Big fish?” He replies with a nod. We both looked at the dark area again. Nothing. “Meh. My camera’s out anyway and I’m getting bored. Whatever. I’m ready to go.” I thought. Just when we were about to ascend, lo and behold, this guy shows up.
video courtesy of fellow diver (the one who nodded at me)
I pressed all sorts of buttons on my camera but it was dead. The divemaster kept signaling to look at the fish and not be too caught up in trying to capture it. He was right but I couldn’t help myself. I was thoroughly irritated.
Even when we got back on the boat, I was still pretty salty. “Yeah but you just swam with a whale shark! Cheer up!” the divemaster told me. I just napped. #ProblemSolving #SolutionsForEverydayLiving
When we got back on the island, I asked the diveshop where they were headed for the next day. They only mentioned spots I’ve already been to, so I passed. I called several others when I got back in my room, about where they were headed for the next couple of days. I was hoping it would be somewhere new but it was the same thing there. I decided to cut Koh Lanta a couple days short and booked a ferry back to Phuket.
I thought it was a good idea too ’cause flying back home from Koh Lanta within a span of 18 hours would’ve been ridiculously stressful and exhausting (ride to pier + ferry + ride to airport + fly to Hong Kong + fly to Toronto, where I live). I figured it would be better to take it easy and divvy the transfers.
On the way back, I met this woman from Mississauga (Toronto suburb). On the ferry ride, we had an interesting conversation filled with social insight.
===================================
Part 6: Wrap Up, coming up for more diving, lessons learned, and possibly some more insight.
By the time I hopped on the ferry from Koh Lanta back to Phuket, I was ready to go home. I felt like I’ve done and explored what I wanted. Throughout this entire trip (and pretty much for all of our lives, should we remain hungry forever), I interacted with people from different walks of life and found pieces of myself, some of which I had forgotten. In recounting my second set of dives in Phuket, I hope to share some insights along the way.
I went diving a couple more times in Phuket. One of the dive sites was actually a spot I already went to but I was all, “Eh, what else is there to do? Fuck it.” Yep, I was getting bored. Like I said, I was ready to go home.
Our divemaster was Scottish who had a super thick accent. I kept asking him to repeat some of the things he was saying until finally, he replied, “You just don’t understand me because of my Scottish accent!”
I nodded, “Yeah. That’s probably it.”
There were a couple other guys with me (come to think of it, most divers – masters and recreational – are men π€). One was this Brit who was working in the Middle East. He showed me a couple photos from when he went diving in the Red Sea, “I highly recommend it. The fish really come close to you,” he says as he showed me a close-up shot of a white-tip shark, “Sometimes, a little too close.”
I don’t remember the story of the other dude but he was on his refresher because he hasn’t gone in about a year. He had some trouble and we all helped and waited out for him. I suggested he sing, “Sink?” he asked.
“No. Sing.”
“Like, songs?”
“Yeah.” (I start humming some random tune. I’m a terrible singer but humming works wonders too)
He just laughed.
“I’m serious. It calms you down. Try it… not like heavy metal songs though.”
In between the dives, we hung our wetsuits out in the prep area, and I laid down at the beach beds and dried up.
When we got called out to prep for the next dive, I grabbed my wetsuit – still damp – was grossed out and it showed on my face. “Ah! Yes! That’s the best part about diving! Getting on something nice, damp, and cold on your warm, dry body!” joked the divemaster. Ugh
We found Nemo several times down there. One was swimming around, getting all cuddly (I don’t actually know what it’s doing) with anemone (those corals). The Brit told us about a documentary he watched about those guys. Apparently, they develop a relationship with particular anemones and if it’s not the same fish that goes to the coral, they get stung.
courtesy of asknature.org
The boat was a bit far when we ascended so we waited for some time on the surface. For the first time, after several dives, I look up on the limestones and it’s actually quite nice. We get so busy looking down and checking out the visibility and the conditions of the water that we forget to look up. It was nice being partially submerged in the ocean yet still be able to observe beauties of the solid earth.
“I keep forgetting to shave. It’s giving me problems,” said one of our mates while touching his mustache.
“Why?” I asked. They all looked at me, “Oh yeah I guess you don’t need to worry about that. But the mustache pushes the mask and water can get in.”
Sounds like a hassle like the annoying hair on my head that I have to constantly shave.
They started talking about the fish, which lead me to ask about the corals, “Which one?” asked the divemaster.
“The one that looked like mouths,” I replied.
He gives me a very “Wtf?” look. His face was priceless π€£
See the mouths? They look like they’re wailing in a cartoon-y way. “Oh my God he farted again! Aaaaahhh! Get me out of here!”
I tried to explain to him what I meant but he seemed so clueless that I just gave up, “Eh nevermind. Silly things.”
I suppose I was telling the truth about silliness as this is the kind of shit that goes on in my head sometimes, in all honesty.
When we got back on the ship, we talked about our dive logs and such. I asked the divemaster a question, which he asked me to repeat several times. I forget what my words were, exactly, but on the third time I repeated myself, he finally understood it, “Oh! You mean (whatever it was)! See? I’m lost with your accent too!”
We all have an accent.
Technically, with English, it’s British people who “don’t have an accent” but even they have different accents depending on which part of the UK they’re coming from.
Having met a lot of expats during this trip made me realize how difficult it was to grow up when your family is constantly moving around (my folks were expats). People who grow up with such realities are apparently called “third culture kids.” But by its definition, since we’re living in such a multi-socio and multi-cultural world, this is therefore applicable to people who aren’t just expats (or kids of) but pretty much almost everyone who grew up with kids from different kinds of households from locals to immigrants. So, if you’re living in urban areas, from what I gather, all over the world, then you’re looking at this reality.
I personally think it’s great but it is definitely not without its struggles, especially when you haven’t formed a good base or a foundation for your own individual values yet.
When I got back to my room, I messaged the girl I met at Koh Lanta. We kept each other company on the ferry on the way back to Phuket. She stayed in Pa Tong beach area whereas I was in Kata (different areas of the island). We talked about many things one of which was hanging out when I got back that night. Pa Tong was way too much of a party place for me and my grandma sleeping habits but I wouldn’t have minded checking it out for a night. I couldn’t make it though. I went diving three times that day and did multiple day dives, everyday, for about a week before then (haven’t gone in years… got a little too excited). I was pretty drained by the end of the day but still wanted to check out Pa Tong so I didn’t cross it off my list until I lied down, “I’m just gonna rest for a bit” but then I couldn’t bring myself to get up once I got there.
I messaged the girl, “I’m tired AF. I won’t make it out but we should hang when we get back in TO.”
“Yeah, I can only imagine how exhausting multiple dives can be. No worries and totally!” she replied.
Included in the many topics of our long conversation during the ferry ride were social insights.
I’m not mentioning specifics but I will say this: it’s still seemingly a popular notion that diversity is all about having all kinds of folk from so and so being a part of a group, which it partially is but when you get into a productivity context, that sort of mentality alone may only serve for good publicity. It’s not entirely a bad thing because it can help alleviate a lot of social issues with regards to mass perception but at the same time, it fails to employ substantial benefits towards thrivability.
There are countless studies with regards to this (look it up if you’re interested) but:
1. When you get different people from different walks of life, you also get different subjective perspectives. What happens in several contexts may only have one objective, tangible set of facts but it will be processed differently by different people based on our corresponding realities.
In a collective sort of setting, this could really work towards the goal(s) if utilized well. When you get different people seeing different pieces of the puzzle, you can fill the holes better. Imagine if everyone thought the same way and if everyone had the same interests? You’ll get all these gaps that aren’t filled or dots that aren’t connected because the selective thinking/confirmation bias/whatever it’s called is going to be the same.
2. While it’s great to have experts who have been doing it forever, realize the value of “fresh meat.” Just because they’re not completely aware of the pitfalls and they lack insight, it doesn’t mean that they won’t have anything to contribute. It is precisely because of the fact that they aren’t completely aware of the pitfalls that make them dare to think of or want to execute novel ideas. Finding the middle ground will entail working with the old-timers who will have a better idea of the reality of the situation. In order for this to work, old-timers would need to be open to new ideas and newbies need to be open to hearing out the potential bullshit that might come with their fresh idealism.
Regardless of whether your role is an old-timer or a newbie in any given context, we will all have something to learn.
We’re all learning and growing in this existentialist weirdness called Life.
“The subject of this book is not typographic solitude, but the old, well-traveled roads at the core of the tradition: paths that each of us is free to follow or not, and to enter and leave when we choose – if only we knew the paths are there and have a sense of where they lead. That freedom is denied to us if the tradition is concealed or left for dead. Originality is everywhere but much originality is blocked if the way back to earlier discoveries is cut or overgrown. If you use this book as a guide, by all means, leave the road when you wish. That is precisely the use of a road: to reach individually chosen points of departure. By all means, break the rules, and break them beautifully, deliberately, and well. That is for one of the ends for which they exist.”
Posted at 2:45 pm by Gelene Celis, on September 25, 2019
I’ve always liked mathematics and art. As long as it’s not like calculus or something (sorry but I don’t speak alien): math and art were therapeutic to me.
With regards to math:
I liked geometry because I thought being able to form things out of numbers and calculations was pretty cool.
Unlike sociology or psychology – subjects I have come to appreciate, informally, later in life – math, to me, was simple. Since there are finite answers that have nothing to do with humanities or behavior, you’re either right or wrong. You get the mark or you don’t. Simple.
The tangible applications of mathematics in everyday life never really occurred to me up until my Grade 11 teacher talked about some sort of formula within the Cartesian Plane. It was one of those formulas that produced coordinates that will never equate to zero and if you change the variables and plot the lines, you end up with a curve formed by lines.
Parabolic Star
I just kinda kept solving the equations. It was Grade 11 math, who cares?
I just wanted that A so I can have a bling-bling report card.
During a given exercise, one of the students got annoyed after all the equations we had to solve, “It’s like.0000000572 (or some ridiculous number/fraction)! Why can’t I just plot the point to zero?!?”
To which the teacher replied (equally frustrated), “Because it will never be zero! It’s like my hand and this board! If it’s one inch away from it, then the point is “1,” but even if I place my hand to the board, no matter how hard I press, it will never be part of the board!”
…you know those moments when something is said or done and you can’t help but be speechless and/or you end up looking like a moron due to your jaws dropping because it feels like time just stopped when you have a moment of great awe?
Matter was still the same: The table was still green. The windows were still open and the cool breeze from outside continued to enter the room. The boy beside me still smelled funny…but I have gained this new awareness of the incalculable mysteries underneath everything that is tangible.
That night, I stared at my hands as I laid in bed. Memories of my childhood emerged. Both sides of my family were pretty superstitious: ghost stories, pranic healing, tarot cards, palmistry and such.
When I stared at my hands, memories of my grandmother showing me a palmistry book along with its illustrations came. I wondered about what kinds of equations were involved in the orchestration of my life.
I thought about the biological equations involved in my parents’ copulation. I wondered about the history of their families, the centuries that went on, the places they’ve been, the trials & tribulations they’ve gone through, the in-betweens among the leaves, branches, and the many rings on our family tree and how it extends to others at many points, in many ways.
Then it came to me: with each passing moment, in many places all over the world, a vast scope of human experiences are occurring, simultaneously.
Life, in an infinite array of a spectrum, is happening in places where we may not even be aware of yet, that exists… that people after us may discover in the future.
With regards to art:
I like making art because when I do, everything just goes away: time stops and nothing else matters but those moments of magic when pieces of my abstractions are manifested into something tangible that can turn into ideas, forms, paradigms… different types and planes of existence.
My film school mentor used to say that art is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.
If we apply the metaphor of art to life then moments like these… make up the 1% for me.
But now I wonder… what kind of mathematics occur, within us and in the Universe, for our creations to turn out the way they do?
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(Spoilers)
Apparently, Cantor’s work is now a part of the foundation of mathematics, which probably means that it has contributed to all sorts of impacts on civilization. He did not find a/the formula for infinity but the continuum hypothesis, to this day, is where a lot of mathematicians start, should they choose to take on the challenge… that will probably never end. Michelangelo, on the other hand, whose approach was the only concept I was able to grasp in the doc (I repeat: I don’t speak alien) went the geometry way. He started off with a circle with lines running from the center point that kept expanding from each other, which they were able to calculate formulas for and when it kept going, more and bigger circles were forming and more spaces in between the lines kept happening, which they were able to, again, come up with formulas for… up to a certain extent, to which Michelangelo said, “This doesn’t make any sense. Maybe God can understand this but our finite minds can’t.” So he let it go and carried on painting the Sistine Chapel.
I continued to work on the equations. I still rooted for that bling-bling report card. This time around, I did it with a renewed sense of… being.
I continue to chase moments like these, which I know is silly because you don’t find these things, it just kinda happens… but you can’t blameme.
Posted at 6:45 pm by Gelene Celis, on September 17, 2019
The old man sat on the stairs of the nipa hut.
He could feel the heat radiating from his skin. His entire body was damp and his shirt, wet, as dews of sweat trickled down on his neck from his head.
The grass gently swayed with the humid wind while the sun glared at him.
He took a small, white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face.
The farmer’s daughter walked down the steps.
“Why do you come here for answers?” she asked.
“I was told of the ancient wisdom that you people hold…”
She smiled. “We are not sages nor some kind of mythical beings. If you’ve come here thinking those, then you are mistaken and I’m afraid you’ve wasted time and energy in coming here.”
“But your way of life…”
“The answers you seek can be found deep within yourself, where it has always lived.” she interrupted.Β “If you cannot fathom this, then the answers will never come to you.”
“Teach me.”
“I can’t teach you anything.Β No one can teach you how to breathe; we’ve always known just as our spirits have always lived in the same place but for you, my friend… your mind needs to stop so that you may remember.”
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It came to me in my dreams. I nothing’ed it but then it came back several months later. I was dreaming it intermittently for months; I would get fragments like flashes of image, some dialogue etc. Then one time I dreamed it for 3 nights in a row, which is kinda creepy but I thought it’s a nice little narrative so I wrote it out. I haven’t dreamed of it since.
*the Nipa Hut drawing isn’t mine.Β I tried to find the name of the artist but I wasn’t able to.
Posted at 6:57 pm by Gelene Celis, on September 12, 2019
Philippines –Β “Benguet Houses turned into Colorful Mural”
Houses in Barangay Balili in La Trinidad, Benguet, Philippines were turned into a colorful mural, reminiscent of Brazil’s favelas. Photo courtesy of Department of Tourism – Cordillera Administrative Region.
Gelene 