BikeJava2011

May 31st, 2011 – Tuesday

Tracking Backwards.

Recuperation day – This morning I woke up, unsure what’s going on. I’m not exactly sure what happened in the past and what our schedule will be. My memory is a bit shot and it’s somewhat scary, but only when I discover that I’ve repeated or forgotten something. I’m not sure when I started (the 23rd of May, 2011, I think). I know I’m supposed to meet my friend Theo on the 9th of June in Bali and I’m supposed to be back in Jakarta by the 14th to fly home. The dates are all confused. I ask the same questions over without remembering it. My long term memory is here. I remember my friends and family; I just have trouble with what happened recently. Now I’m back in Bandung at Mas Wang’s place with some friends.

June 1st, 2011 – Wednesday

It’s an odd feeling not knowing when, how, or what. Feeling as if I repeated things is one thing, but to actually repeat them multiple times is... scary to put it simply. Have I called my family? Yes, I’ve been told I have. Have I eaten? Probably, but that’s just an assumption. Right now, most of what I remember are from assumptions, guesses, or correlations.

June 2nd, 2011 – Thursday

I woke up in familiar settings – a home in Bandung that I’m not sure how many nights I’ve stayed. I could’ve possibly returned here multiple times after multiple accidents. I feel like I’ve been here for weeks or on the extreme opposite, only a several hours. Dreams are part of my reality and reality are part of my dreams. There are eerie messages on my phones from strangers or people I don’t remember, and messages from loved ones. In some ways, being wired to the rest of the world helps while in other ways it just continually confuses me.

Ideas of appointments, schedules, timelines confuse me to no end. I know I’m supposed to be somewhere at sometime to fly back home. I must constantly ask Heather, and she constantly tells me. I think I just asked her; I’ve already forgotten. There are so many great people around me. I have sore muscles to remind me of falls I barely remember, swelling to remind me of possible infections I’m fighting, messages to remind me of loved ones. I need a cigarette.

Glimpses are all I really have right now. Visual glimpses of vast landscapes, tastes of a red bean ice cream, of a short section of a story Heather read me, of countless things that feel so random, but probably have a some sort of logic and flow to it. People have come to see me. “Have I crashed multiple times?” I keep on asking myself. I think I’m told, “No.” Have I told my family? I’ve probably told my siblings and not my parents – that’s just my usual modus operandi when it comes to these things. When did everything go so wrong? I feel slightly frustrated at this inability to grasp what is going on. I feel worried that I’ve forgotten something extremely important. What does it matter at this point in time? It will matter in the future, right now there are great people around me who are looking out for me. Laughs are invaluable currency. I have no idea where or how much money I have in my wallet, but right now it doesn’t seem to matter.

I’m back in a place that feels familiar in a deep unknowing sense. I can’t quite put into words why it feels so familiar; I’ve been here before, yes. However, that’s not quite why it feels so familiar. It’s just a feeling – like the cushion of this chair I’m sitting in, or the sound of the super-intimidating roosters, or just the smell of the coffee in my cup. There’s a giant painting of the man who’s been so kind to let us stay in his residence and there’s nothing intimidating or off-putting about it. The painting has become a staple in my visual memory of this place – a warm reminder that I’m somewhere safe.

June 3rd, 2011 – Friday

Today I met with someone who was reminded of her own father in a similar situation as myself – memory loss. I bought some colored contacts and colored my hair – both are quite subtle. I figured, if I can’t remember my old self, I’ll create a new self of sorts.

June 4th, 2011 – Saturday

I can’t believe it’s June 4th already. The time has drifted by so quickly. My short term memory is really shot, but my long term memory seems to be coming back. Maybe it’s not abnormal and this is just how I am. Today, Lucy, a good friend from Bike2Work left – there have been countless others: Seklie, Tense, Rahmi, Evie, Aristi too, I think. She came earlier on when my memories were still trying to find space in my swollen head. Some moments I sense bitter words seep out of my mouth as if to subtely ask, “Why me?” I stop them before anyone notices because they have no place in my surroundings, no place for these new friends, and especially no place for my old friends.

Today, I think it was today, we took a walk through the mountains of Bandung. The trails winded through homes and gardens, full of insects and plants – in particular one called “malu malu kucing” that closes when you touch it. Seeing my hand touch those plants, then watching them close are amazing reminders of my continued existence and effect on my friends and family. Something about that immediate effect of my touch on silent and resilient plants makes me feel resilient too. If I am crushed, cut down, or bashed into the ground, I too will find new strength, growth, and courage to sprout new shoots or to re-open to the light. Unlike a plant, my resources won’t be water, sunlight, and nutrients rather they will be family, friends, food, and, at this point, a few cigarettes.

We came across an event of pigeon racing (or were they messenger pigeons?) with men driving by on motorcycles with pigeons cages attached to the backs of the motorbikes. I urinated in the bushes without shame after excessively drinking water to keep my brain from overheating, at least that’s why I thought I drank so much. We arrived at a friend’s house, stared at some awesome pictures on the wall, and munched on some delicious J-Co donuts. Food was eaten, memories forgotten, and we eventually returned home. Today was a beautiful day. It’s beauty is fading into a memory that may or may not be forgotten. We spent the rest of the evening preparing and cooking dinner at the direction of Lucy. She had me do a lot of preparation, which I am thankful for – I felt useful. I did what I could do to help. We finished the night singing some songs that Heather knew. She played a little Sublime that had countless reminders of my life: my friend Alfonso from the 7th grade (he lived in the affected area of LA during the 1992 riots), New Jersey after a road trip I once took with friends to New York from California, my fraternity brother Mario, and now the music will remind me of an amazingly hospitable home in Bandung, Indonesia.

Tomorrow we will do a test run of my motor skills and do some cycling. I really can’t wait! I’m kind of too excited (and full of too much coffee) to sleep.

June 5th, 2011 – Sunday

Today, I finally got on a bike to ride around Bandung. The ride felt really short and crowded. I’m really antsy to get back out there and so disappointed in what has happened. I know I cannot force the healing process to proceed at a faster pace; I wish I could. It’s the 5th of June and I’ll be leaving for home in less than 10 days and everyone who cares for me doesn’t want me to continue on the journey for at least another 2 days. More than a week has gone by and I’m amazingly frustrated. I know this is merely a glimpse into what alzheimer or amnesia patients go through. If I couldn’t type or feel like I was making some progress internally, I would seriously go insane.

I sat at an Internet cafe today, going through the same steps over and over, forgetting what I had done and what I needed to do. I attempted to write stuff down, but that just didn’t seem to help much. Some people want me to tell them what happened; I don’t know what happened. Others have no idea about what happened; I don’t feel like opening the topic with them.

Sometimes I think of Sisyphus and his punishment to eternally roll a stone up hill only for it to roll down again. What motivates him to continue? Does he forget that he had just rolled the stone up the mountain, or is he hoping that the next mountain will be the last?

I know it’s a selfish desire to want to continue at the cost of my health and the concern of others. I’ve always been a stubborn fool. The mission of BikeJava has been accomplished. Our 4th donation site fell through and our donations are running short.

June 6th, Monday

Tomorrow I will find out how I am doing health-wise and a final decision whether I can continue on. I’m not sure if it’s the coffee that I forgot I drank or the excitement of starting the trip again. My memory sort of feels like the early game of snake. The tail-end of my short-term memory fades as time goes on, but as I start to heal the tail-end gets longer and longer. I’m so anxious about tomorrow.

Today, we woke up fairly late after a night out having a couple drinks. Sunday nights are pretty dead even in the hippest places. We did go to a place called “Trotoart” and met some pretty cool dudes. I also met a Fulbright research scholar who had a similar experience I am having. We had a moment in the kitchen when I felt that despite having barely met, she knew exactly what I was feeling even if I don’t remember what I was feeling.

I recall going to the hospital early in the afternoon and just staring out the window; not in an incapacitated and dull manner, but in a satisfied way. Bandung is really not my city and I had no idea where we were going yet the warm sun was enough for me. I repeat things all the time – I’ve probably repeated some of my writing already. The hospital was not exciting yet I imagined myself there in a few years. Dr. Yogi played Harvest Moon and Heather read her book; I stared off trying to observe the activity of the nurses. My doctor had a mustache, I think.

I feel as if writing can only do so much for me right now. I need to put my feet to the pedals and keep caution close at hand. I still haven’t received the clearance to continue BikeJava, but I’m ready for my next cycle trip – how does “BikeBorneo” sound? I don’t think I’ve felt as alive as I was on the tour; of course, I can’t remember lots of things. Whatever happens, I’ll come back stronger and more determined because I’ve found something I’ve been missing in my life of 5-year plans and daily agendas – spontaneity and passion.

June 7th, Tuesday

I woke up today to a giant rooster patrolling the halls outside my door. Many of my recent memories are lost except the sight of these vicious roosters – 3 in all. No need for guard dogs, just hen-deprived roosters. Gradually, we all awoke to take me to the hospital for a follow-up MRI. I laid in the large plastic tube trying to fight off ideas of claustrophobia. I can be claustrophobic if I think about it too much. I was given headphones to listen to music and I remember a song by Aerosmith. I was in there for 45 minutes – it only felt like 10 minutes. I’m not sure if the music was to distract me or engage parts of my brain.

Physically, my brain is fine, the doctor says. I do have a deviated septum, which he seemed to speak about as if it was a problem; I fell on the rear right of my head though. I’m still intent on continuing despite the concerned looks of my riding partner Heather. I’m not sure what Mas Wang’s opinion is on all of this. I got some brain vitamins, paid my bill, and we were on our way. Between the MRI and the follow-up consultation, Heather went to get a massage, and Dr. Yogi and I went to play video games at the arcade. It felt nice to feel immature again – no concerns of sponsors, of volunteer sites, of head trauma, or of mounting medical bills. I played Time Crisis and air hockey like I was in elementary school and Initial D like I was back in Japan doing study abroad.

Our plans will change, I have no doubt about that. We probably won’t make it to Lombok or even Bali, but this campaign was called “BikeJava” anyways. If I was a man purely of logic and reason, I would have called it quits long ago. I apologize for being such a selfish man for wanting to continue. I could stop, pack it up, and head home. I could also continue and find myself at the eastern end of Java screaming at the top of lungs out of sheer joy and excitement; I need the latter. I will be forever grateful for the concern of my loved ones, friends, and strangers and I only risk their sorrow if something were to happen again.

Four years ago I was in Indonesia with my brother. His arm got shredded by some floatsom and he had to get stitches; I was not allowed to board my flight from Jakarta to Ho Chi Minh City and went through countless hoops to get home to America; we also stayed across the street from one of the Bali bombing sites a few months prior to our visit. Now I’ve been affected by amnesia and only made it safely to the hospital because of Heather and Mas Wang. Yet, something about Indonesia brings me back and persuades me to recollect my time here fondly.

June 10th, Thursday

BikeJava must stop. I was so determined to go at the cost of my health yet, more level-headed individuals like my riding partners, Heather and Mas Wang, our host Dr. Yogi were all against it. The frustrating part was that there was no direct, “No” for a long time. Lots of “Let’s see” or “Let’s give it a few more days”, so I ended up changing my flight thinking that we’d be able to leave soon. Everyone knew how important this trip was to me and hoped that I’d suddenly remember everything the next day. On the bright side, it will give me a few more days to recover before taking off to the United States. You, the reader, may notice a subtle undertone of anger, bitterness, resentment, and disappointment in what happened. All of those negative feelings are aimed at the situation and not the friends who have been here for me the whole time. This philanthropic bike tour is something I’ve worked so hard for, it’s hard to give up.

My memories are coming back slowly. I can remember the hot springs we stopped at in Garut; I can remember pointing out a hotel I stayed at once; I recall that we parked our bikes alongside the motorbike. Things are returning slowly.

I will be heading back to Jakarta soon to wrap up my time here. I will see friends, write reports of what I can remember, and attempt to enjoy the rest of my time here. Health costs are piling up and I will soon be returning to a student lifestyle struggling financially and academically. Although the financial costs of my medical bills in Indonesia will worry me to no end, I’m fortunate enough to be able to afford them. Since the remaining donation site never worked out, I hoped to gain some closure to use the rest of the donated money for a cycling accident victim to pay for his/her medical bills. I was informed that it sounds so much easier than it really is.

Right now I’m digging into a large tub of cookies n’ cream ice cream. I’m not sure if it’s out of depression or hunger. I’m gobbling down cups of green tea and listening to some music. After almost a week I am physically alone. It’s a good sign since it means that everyone thinks my mind is clear enough.

Next Time We Need a Mascot - I Choose Chester the Dog.

More Great Bike2Work Friends.

I Feel the Love!

I'm Hoping That the Blood to the Head Will Help me Remember.

Great Food, Great People

May 26th, 2011

We began our volunteering at 9:30am. All the children assembled on the basketball court with a book for shade. The 9th grade were already gone having finished the national exam. We, as in Heather and me, were introduced and we introduced ourselves then had the students think of 5 questions per class. We tried to get Mas Wang to come out; every time we asked him to come out he insisted he’d be out in a minute. He never came out except to take some pictures of us, not with us. As for the question section, of the 8 classes only 1 boy representative was brave enough to come out. It’s always interesting to see that generally girls are more brave when it comes to English.

SMPN3 - Batujajar Students.

SMPN3 - Batujajar Teachers.

We sang our BikeJava song on a whim – I wasn’t sure when to end the song and Heather wasn’t exactly sure what to sing. Then our Sunda song, the hokey pokey with the whole school, and the student’s song (“Over the Rainbow”). This was followed by a smaller class of students interested in English playing “Fruitbowl” (Brett, whatever you're doing in Chicago thank you for this amazing icebreaker), Simon Says (turned into Pak Aji Says), then commands from the students. We were asked to dance twice, I was asked to open the door, and Heather was asked to do a few pushups. The school emptied out pretty quickly soon after, the students excitedly scurried home and the teachers left quietly around 1pm. The BikeJava team gave our donated supplies to the school principal in a symbolic gesture. Those supplies were not air dropped, or delivered by the post office, rather Heather’s very good friend Bu Cuncun (Pronounced like Choon-choon) took time over 2 days to both buy, deliver those supplies, AND stayed well under the budget. Ms. Cuncun, you are a superhero to BikeJava. Since we managed to purchase everything on the list for under the estimated amount, our donation goal has dropped. We purchased a 12 packs of pens, 12 marker sets, 36 pads of paper, 2 futsal balls, a set of spool for their sewing class, 12 packs of pencils, a box of white more markers, 12 white board erasers, and 12 boxes of chalk. In addition, Gramedia will send them 70 books to fill their library - They haven't arrived quite yet.

Students Performing "Over the Rainbow".

50 Students of Fun!

Student Handicraft Sandals as Gifts.

Here are some photos from our boat ride back during the day.

Let's Roll! Wait.. I Need My Helmet.


With the SMPN3 - Batujajar Teachers Who Helped A Lot.

Loading the Boat.

Future Bike-Boat Models.

...It Doesn't Look Like I'm Lifting With My Legs.

"We're Not Going to Sink, Right?"

Then we visited a really cool park under Jl. Taman Sari Bridge with murals.

Flyover (Overpass) in Bandung.

Reminds Me of California.

Giant Bike Mural.

Eiger and Polygon, Thanks!

Senior Photo... at a Bike School.

Haha, So Over-the-Top Yet, I Kind of Like It.

The Taman Sari Park Below the Bridge.

We arrived at Mas Wang’s place at around 7pm after some delicious iced durien and some Sundanese food. The house we stayed in reminded me so much of Northern California and my great aunt’s home. I miss her and everyone at home. I’ll let Heather explain in detail what it was like here. All right, gotta pack up and get ready for Garut.

Cycling Python; Check!

BikeJava, Go!

BikeJava2011

Thursday, June 16, 2011

BikeJava - We'll Be Back in 2012.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Days Possibly Forgotten

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

BikeJava Day 9: Life is like a box of chocolates.... sometimes you eat shit

Friday, May 27, 2011

Bike Java Day 4: Applying Our Fulbright Teaching Skillz.