Jumped from Penang to Borneo with a plane to see great great great great x 10 grandparents. They had lives up in the trees, and the guides coaxed them down to us with bananas. No wonder we eat bananas today, that's what our ancestors did.
As a group we climbed up into Kota Kinabalu, the person I sat next to on the bus dropped his 5,000 dollar camera into a river. He was very sad. We looked for the biggest flower in the world.
There were a lot of prostitutes at night in the town we were staying at. They swarmed around the hotels full of drunk white men. I wandered and watched the locals sing late into the night on my walks home and wondered how much money the women would actually take home that night for the work they were doing. The men that looked after them were gross, and smile-less. I wanted to speak something other than English.
In the day I tried to avoid being in a big loud group. I smiled, walked past windows, looked people in the eye, and tried to go unnoticed. I dreamed of living there for a few days. Some people lived over the ocean and fished outside their houses. Some people lived in wooden enclosures without bedposts or coffee tables. Some people lived in houses with tin roofs next to cloud forests. Some people lived above of stores that sold the Koran. Sometimes it was foggy, but overall life was warm and beautiful and people just seemed to live on top of each other.
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