Indonesian Research, or: How I Learned to Love the Spleen

The last time I wrote before disappearing, I was still on the hunt for a PhD position. Through lots of e-mails, calls, and the attitude that it's not harassment if you do it with a smile, I managed to secure a PhD position with Eske Willerslev, one of the world's leading human population geneticists.

He sometimes wears this outfit to group meetings 

So, I packed up my warmest clothes (I kind of forgot how to do this whole 'cold weather' thing) and moved to Copenhagen to work at the Centre for Genetics. His specialty is ancient DNA, so naturally my primary project involves ancient humans. I was given 8,000 year old samples from very far north Siberia, and, after a 2+ year hiatius from labwork, I was put into a space-suit and told to extract some ancient Siberian DNA.

Who says science can't be sexy?

My poor lab-mentor wasted many hours of his precious time answering my terribly ignorant questions, but somehow at the end of a few months I managed to at least appear to know what I was doing. 

By that point, quite sick of the short, cold, Danish winter days, I managed to invite myself along on a colleague's trip to Thailand where my work included hours of diving in beautiful Thai waters to collect coral...ahem... ejacula. 

From this....

To this...

The project depended on collecting coral eggs and sperm during a mass spawning, which meant lots of night diving in order to place and then collect what we affectionately called coral 'condoms'.

Coral reproduction is actually quite beautiful

While in Thailand, I had the good fortune of speaking with a researcher who told me about a population of so-called "Sea Gypsies" found in Thailand called the Moken. They're also referred to as "Sea Nomads" because for possibly thousands of years they have been living a largely nomadic, marine dependent existence, traditionally spending nearly their entire lives on houseboats. They have an intimate relationship with the sea, free-diving from such a young age that many children learn to swim before they learn to walk. Anthropologically they are incredibly interesting: their lifestyle has effects on their ideas of permanence and time. Evolutionarily, they piqued my interest immediately. Most subsist entirely on food they have collect through free diving, and they are exceptionally good at it. Perhaps, I thought, there might be something physiologically, evolutionarily special about these people that makes them such good divers. Motivated by that (and mayyyyybe the desire to return to beautiful sunny places), I decided to investigate further.

Sunsets like these may or may not have affected my decision making...

When I returned to Denmark, I couldn't stop reading about these people and their lifestyle. The Moken are just one population of Sea Nomads, others include the Urak Lawoi (also in Thailand), the Orang Suku Laut (living mostly near Singapore), and the Orang Bajau (spread throughout Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines). I began contacting everyone I could find who knew anything about these populations, and happened upon a lady in Indonesia who offered to introduce me to a Bajau population in Sulawesi. 

Because my boss is the best, I nervously pitched him the idea, and he quickly said, "Ok, go!" And so I was off to Indonesia. Over the next three trips, I met some of the most wonderful, kind, generous, and welcoming people I have ever encountered. There are not many places where you can show up at the home of the village chief, at 10pm, a complete stranger, unannounced, and be welcomed to stay as long as you'd like. Over the trips, I became proficient in conversational Indonesian (this continues to be my excuse for not yet learning any Danish) and was 'adopted' by the chief and his wife, from whom I learned some of my most important Indonesian vocabulary (Makan! = Eat!, Enak!=delicious,Pedis!="this is far too spicy for your delicate western mouth, don't eat it unless you want to turn red, sweat profusely, and try not to weep for the next twenty minutes")

They fed me, took care of me when I got sick from accidentally drinking the wrong water (big woops!), opened their hearts, and showed me endless love. 

With my 'Mama Angkat', my adoptive Indonesian Mom

Although about half of my trip was basically socializing (it is very important to build social bonds before you ask someone to spit their DNA into a tube and let you ultrasound their organs), there was some actual science involved. I won't get into the details, but there is a chance that the Bajau have big spleens, which (betcha didn't know this! I certainly didn't) can possibly help you dive for longer and recover more quickly between dives. So, I bought a portable ultrasound machine and spent a few weeks studying medical youtube videos, reading articles, and practicing on my wonderful friends and colleagues. Everyone I knew became a potential victim... I even measured the spleens of my flatmate's unsuspecting out of town visitors (earning one the nickname "Big-Spleen Ben"). Armed with this new skill, I lugged the strange machine to my teeny-tiny Indonesian village and went around asking strangers to let me look at their spleens (I have cultivated a very unusual Indonesian vocabulary... "Limpa besar!"="Big spleen!").

I attracted a bit of attention 

All in I took over 500 images of spleens, and got to experience showing over a dozen expectant mothers their baby's heartbeat for the first time (they are a very fertile people). Hopefully I will have more conclusive results on the research soon, so stay tuned for that... 

Of course I managed to squeeze in a few motorcycle rides

Indonesia is a fascinating place. It is home to hundreds of unique ethnic groups and languages as well as a multitude of religions, all geographically and culturally mixed and coexisting throughout the archipelago of 17,500 islands. The Bajau nearly always exist somewhere on the fringe of this, being traditionally nomadic. Modern populations have become more settled, adapting to the local cultures, however they still exist somewhat outside "mainstream Indonesia". They are often perceived as impoverished, mysterious, and dangerous. Many are suspicious of their "magical powers", I was warned more than once to stay far away from their powerful potions. On my third trip, a top University official told me, "It's very nice that you've come to Indonesia to do your research. But I don't know why you would research the Bajau, they are not good people." In some way I'm hoping that my research can help to change this perception, to show Indonesia and the world what I saw; a beautiful, kind, extremely special people who are struggling to survive in a world where their entire existence is threatened by (overpopulation-driven) overfishing. 

I came home from Indonesia with an akar bahar (black coral) bracelet to keep me healthy and protect me from black magic, as well as a home made spear gun, both given to me by my amazing Bajau friends. But more than that, I came home with a new family, enough memories to last a lifetime, and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the life-changing experience.

Back to it!

Hello hello! After a long haiatus (wow, has it really been two years??) I'm going to give this whole blogging thing another go!

Bendy Bean is Back!

But first, where have I been all this time you ask? Well, everywhere! I've started a new job (in Europe!), visited 10 new countries, tried new and exotic cuisines, and was adopted into new "families" on 3 continents. I dove with 'sea gypsies' in Indonesia, camped on a deserted Thai island (waiting for the opportune moment to capture a jar of coral sperm), ate the world's best macaroons under the Eiffel Tower, motorcycled through an angry mob of opportunistic men in India with two other ladies on the back of my bike, hiked through the Swiss alps with two of the world's most influential evolutionary biologists (at an embarrassingly comparatively slow pace, considering they are well into their 80's), smuggled a suitcase full of avocados across not one but two international borders (worth it!), and (hilariously) accidentally documented nearly launching myself off a castle wall in Prague.

Icy cobblestones + bad traction + overeager panorama taking...

And all the while my yoga practice has been right there with me, my constant companion! In fact, in a way it is yoga that inspired me to resurrect my poor, neglected little blog, since in about a month I will be headed back to India for the third time. Before then, I plan to write a few posts that go into a little more detail on some of my recent adventures. But, in the mean time, here are a few highlights of quite possibly the most important component of any adventure... food! (And, of course, coffee).

Mochi in Tokyo (unfortunately, after having such delicious mochi, I can never eat mochi again)

My favorite dosa in Mysore (I'm coming for you, dosa!)

Thai Street Food: Part 1 (near Phuket)

Thai Street Food: Part 2 (in Bangkok)

Appropriately artistic and beautiful cappuccino art at the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam

Jus Alpukat: Indonesian avocado milkshake (low cal, low fat!)

*THE BEST* Fish tacos! From a taco truck literally within sight of the Mexican border (SoCal)

Greek Yogurt x3, Crete (I couldn't get enough!)

And finally... 

Macaroon, Paris! Near a structure you may recognize?

Well, that's it for now, but more to come soon!

PS- getting started on Instagram as well, so if you'd like to see photos of yoga, food, and travels, find me at bendy.bean! 

Tokyo

My recent 3-week trip to Tokyo combined three of my favorite things: science, yoga, and international travel.  I was thrilled to be invited out to the Earth-Life Science Institute (ELSI) at Tokyo Tech to follow up on a research project with which I had been involved during my masters in Hawaii.  I was a little intimidated to be flown so far at someone else’s expense for the sole purpose of contributing my ‘expertise,’ especially since I don't really feel like much of an expert in anything.  However, it was an extremely interesting project, and how could I say no to a new stamp in my passport?

A friend in India once told me that Japan is the antithesis of India, which couldn’t be more right.  It’s quiet to India’s constant noise, orderly instead of chaotic, and clean; oh so clean!  It was so immediately apparent just how ‘perfect’ (at least on the surface) Japan is… it seemed every sight was exceedingly beautiful, every sound harmonious, and every taste delicious.  The babies don’t cry, the dogs don’t bark.  The blossoming sakura trees (which I was fortunate enough to see) seem to punctuate the experience, as if every view were a painting.

Not surprisingly, any society with such pervasive order and politeness also comes with an underlying rigidity.  It presents a seductive front to tourists like me while suffocating those who must live within its strict confines. Anyone who deviates from the expected is ostracized or left behind.  For example, in an effort to assimilate, Korean and Chinese immigrants will actually change their names to Japanese names.  One Tokyo native described to me a sense of heaviness she feels while in Japan, a weight that is lifted when she travels to other parts of the world.  That said, as an outsider, Japan is a dream to visit. 

 

A tasty, caffeinated dream.

I spent my first two weeks working with researchers I had met previously in Hawaii.  The institute itself is relatively new and has brought together international scientists from all disciplines to work on solving the problems of the origin of life on Earth.  It was thrilling to be immersed in such a stimulating intellectual atmosphere.  During various lunches and tea times throughout my stay, I engaged in discussions ranging from ancient Japanese ceramic techniques to the effects of an earthquake as experienced by an underwater diver.  My research was incredibly productive, but more than that I felt completely reassured that science is exactly what I want to be doing with my life.

I added a third week to my stay so I’d have a chance to explore, and I was so happy to find out that my time overlapped serendipitously with one of my favorite yoga teachers and friends.  With him and his wonderful girlfriend (both practiced Tokyo travelers), I got to see a whole new side of Tokyo, from Palestinian food to an authentic Tempura dining experience. They are truly two of the most insightful and intuitive people I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet.  We indulged in hours of thought provoking discussion over some of the best coffee Tokyo has to offer.

 

... and it has some damn good coffee

Tokyo was an incredible adventure, and I’m happy to report that I was invited back for a workshop this summer, so I’ll likely be spending two more weeks in Tokyo and an additional 3 weeks in Kobe in July and August.  I’m looking forward to returning to Japan for the parks, the decadent cream puffs, the delicate and refined green tea, but most of all for a new adventure.

Seva: Volunteering in India

One of the most important facets of my trip (which, so far, I have not written very much about) has been my experience volunteering at a school called Chethana Trust.  My original intention was to work with an organization here in Mysore called Odanadi, however, since nothing in India seems to work the way you expect it to, I ended up instead working at an after school program run by the wonderful people of Chethana Trust.  

The center was founded by two Psychiatrists and caters to an oft neglected part of Indian society: individuals with disabilities.  There is a day program for children with disabilities such as Down Syndrome, a vocational school to help older students to develop a trade, and an after school program for children with learning disabilities.  They also recently opened a beautiful school just outside the city that caters to all students with the goal of providing individualized education, something sorely lacking in most children's educational experience.

Two amazing women: Dr. Rajini (left) and Surabhi, one of the teachers.

For the past four months, I have been volunteering with the after school program.  I've been working with children ages 5 to 15, teaching them everything from simple reading and writing to cellular biology.  Though some days have been more challenging than others, every day has been rewarding.

This is Saria

After 4 months of practicing spelling, this is as close as she
could get to "I'll miss you"... touching nonetheless!

I have learned so much from the heartbreaking stories of some of these children.  In classrooms of 50-60 students, learning disabilities go completely unnoticed and unaddressed.  One of our students was repeatedly beaten at school for failing to perform a "simple" writing task that, given his entirely diagnosable disability, he found extremely challenging.  What's even more sad is that even once parents are made aware of their children's disabilities, they often refuse to acknowledge them out of pride and cultural pressures.  They would rather watch their children struggle than get them the help they need, if that means labeling them as somehow "inferior."  One of our more severely dyslexic and hyperactive children was pulled from the program for this reason. 

The lucky few who I had the pleasure to work with affected me deeply and taught me so many things.  There are moments I'll never forget, like when they made me eat freshly picked clover (a delicacy!), when they left me in charge of their pet locust, or when I accidentally confused a girl's name with a delicious breakfast food.

Poori

Purvi

I will miss their bright smiles and beautiful faces, and I feel lucky to have spent time with them.

Coming home

It has been over a month since my last post (I knew I would be bad at this blogging thing), and since I last wrote I finally purchased a return ticket!  I am now just two short weeks away from the end of my trip.  After four months of living here, leaving comes with mixed emotions.  I'm excited beyond words to spend the holidays at home with my family, but I will be sad to leave India, especially when it has blessed me with so many amazing people, opportunities, and experiences.

Things I will miss:
-The people!
-Fresh coconuts

Oh sweet nectar of the gods

-The colors.  From temples, to saris, to floral garlands draping recently puja'd rickshaws, bright colors are inescapable

-My favorite coconut-loving street dog Roger

What a dapper fellow

-Daily chai with my amazing new roommates
-My students

Cute little monsters

-Dosas
-Pollution-enhanced sunsets

#NoFilter #SmogFilter

-The amazing Saturday "eats and sweets" that I never thought I'd get to enjoy in India (rose and honey creme brulee, gyoza, pear frangipane? yum.)

-Harrowing rides through Indian traffic and the accompanying adrenaline rush
-My guru, Saraswati, one of the most inspirational women I've ever met! Kicking butt and taking names at 72 years old.

Things I will not miss so much:
-Hand-washing everything
-Bucket baths
-My nightly serenade of barking dogs, honking rickshaws, and howling monkeys
-Constantly covering my knees and shoulders and being on the lookout for unwelcome advances from nefarious individuals

-Haggling with rickshaw drivers
-The ever-lurking threat of food poisoning, especially when fresh vegetables are involved

-Blowing black soot out of my nose after spending any considerable amount of time outside

-Leaning uncomfortably over weirdly and inconveniently designed Indian sinks

Setting out for this trip I dreamed of filling my passport, yet somehow I'm coming back with just one new stamp.  Still, I don't regret a single moment of the four months I've spent earning that stamp... plus there's always next trip ;)

Festivals and Bananas

The past few weeks have been a very festive time for Mysore.  People from all over the country come to see Mysore’s elaborate processions and lights in celebration of Dasara, one of the biggest holidays in India.  The city swelled with people and traffic, all of which culminated in a grand procession of floats, performers, and elephants that have been training for weeks.  Unfortunately, this procession is so famous, it was virtually impossible to get anywhere near it.  But that didn’t stop us from trying!  It was worth it just to see how creative people can be in looking for a good viewing spot.

Yeah, that looks safe

After about an hour of trying in vain to find a spot where we could see something other than people’s backs, we gave up and went to an air-conditioned coffee shop, where we could watch the parade on TV.  Luckily, fate delivered another (perhaps even more amazing) procession into our laps.  I was taking a dawn motorcycle ride with a friend to the top of Chamundi Hill to see the sun rise when we noticed what seemed to be an unusually high volume of people gathering.  So, we decided to stick around and see what happened.  Being literally the only westerners there, we were the object of much attention.

Part of our fan club

Fortunately, a family sitting nearby flanked us and warded off the onslaught of grinning teenage boys.

Our adopted "Auntie" 

While we were waiting for the unknown festivities to start, we noticed people walking through the crowds with baskets full of bananas that were adorned with sprigs of sage.  Everyone around us was buying bananas... for what reason?  We had no idea.  Suddenly, we heard an explosion, and saw smoke rising nearby.  Our ‘adopted family’ laughed at our surprise.  As it got closer, we saw the source.  Roughly every dozen feet, a team of men would pack a small cart full of some kind of explosive, and then a man with a long, smoking stick would light it on fire.

Safety: not a priority

This caused an explosion with flames reaching tens of feet into the air and bits of (hopefully harmless) “shrapnel” spraying the crowd.  I’ve never been that close to such a powerful explosion... you could feel it through your entire body.

We noticed everyone was preparing their bananas, the main event was arriving!  Several hundred people were using thick ropes to pull a cart with enormous wooden wheels, on top of which stood several live people and a deity.  People cheered and shouted "Mysore!" as it lumbered down the street.

Our new friends passed us bananas and excitedly instructed us to wait until the altar got closer and then throw them!  The goal was to get our bananas stuck in the top, for good luck.  I will never forget the sight of hundreds of bananas flying through the air and pelting the elegantly decorated shrine. 

It was bananas (ha!)

Exiting the festival was daunting, as thousands of people bottlenecked through alleys and around parked cars (not to mention our shoes and pants were coated with mushed bananas).  Some small children nearly got trampled when one fell in front of the dense and unforgiving crowd.  At one point I’m fairly certain I could have lifted my feet and continued to move purely through the pushing throng of people all around me.

Like most other experiences in India, it was strange, colorful, devotional, exciting, and full of men.

Sticking it to the 'men'

The best way to fuel my desire to do something is to tell me that I can't do it.  This almost resulted in my being disowned when I told my mom that I was going to skydive in Hawaii whether she liked it or not, because "what are you going to do about it?" (many hours of profuse apology later, we eventually reached a peaceable agreement and I jumped out of a plane at 14,000 ft. You're the best, mom!).  This week, I was told flat out by at least a dozen different men that women cannot ride motorcycles.

Oh really?

I’ve had a ‘need for speed’ since my dad took me 100 mph in his 1989 Mazda Miata convertible (shhh don’t tell mom) as a child.  In fact, my dad has encouraged this behavior as long as I can remember.  Just this past year we went for a spin at the BMW test track in a 414 horsepower M3, because nothing says father-daughter bonding like spinning out on the skid pad.  I got my motorcycle license 5 years ago (as soon as my mom would let me), and settled for driving a Vespa around Honolulu for the past 2 years.

The Ferrari of scooters

The point is, I have complete confidence in my ability to drive almost anything, including a motorcycle.  The men of India, however, had a very different idea.  I’ve been craving a motorcycle trip through the gorgeous countryside, so my friend Alexis and I set out to try to find bikes to rent.  Apparently, although the roads of India are full of men on motorcycles, it is extremely uncommon for women to drive them.  Scooters yes, motorcycles no.  We were literally laughed at, and told that it was "too complicated for us to possibly learn".  Another man had two friends with bikes ready to rent, but when they found out they were to be rented to women, the owners refused.  Patriarchy runs deep in India.  Helmets aren't even available in women’s sizes or feminine designs.  Even one seemingly westernized Indian friend asked, wouldn't it just be better if we rode on the back of a man's bike?

After several frustrating days, we finally managed to rent two motorcycles.  We were feeling pretty good about this accomplishment, and told one of our few supportive male friends we were "sticking it to the man."  He replied, "No no, you're sticking it to the men."

300cc's of bad-assery

Now that we had sweet wheels, we needed somewhere to take them.  So, we organized a trip to a nearby temple and set out after breakfast.  Two ladies on two motorcycles, and three men on two scooters (and one more man on a motorcycle).

Biker chicks

The temple itself (Somanathapura) was beautiful, with layers upon layers of intricate carvings.

Many carvings had deep spiritual significance...

...others were just ancient smut

We were of course followed by small children who wanted to take pictures with us

I'm not sure why they found me so funny

It was an incredible day, and one that I will never forget.  I think my favorite part of the whole experience was the look of confusion and utter shock on the faces of the men we passed along the way.

Our motorcycle gang