I heard some ang mo who was carrying her Tesco cool bag in one arm and a re-useable shopping bag in another, say to the stall owner “How are you?” before paying for her goods.

What’s this? “How are you?” I know it’s polite, civilised and all, but…

I want the rude uncle and aunty serving me at the stall. I don’t want civility. I want them barking at me in a language I can’t quite get, that I have to guess at. I want there to be mystery. To have veggies and fish that I don’t quite know the terms of, and then to be rudely educated, if they bother. To be told just how much of this and that I need for a party of say… 3. To be told how best to eat that thing, how to best select it. To be told just how good the deal is (usually not), and how fortunate that this and that is rarely available in the markets (sometimes true). To blush from one’s own stupidity. To just point, helplessly say okay to anything and pay up.

Keep the vacuous how-are-you’s at the supermarket, please. Those who toss it around like hellos don’t really want to hear the real response.

Let’s keep the real wet market, the real pasar experience!

Kanilea K1-T Premium

I think she’s a real beauty.

These two are my existing ones.

Pono Tenor PTES Solid Ebony Spruce Top

Mainland Red Cedar Top Soprano

And here’s the proof that if you’re a lousy player, no good instrument can help you sound better. But maybe a tuner might. I really should’ve checked all the tuning first.

I used Ableton Live that was bundled with my Focusrite USB 6 and the AT2035 to record this.

Can you guess which section of music belongs to which instrument?

Here is the map of our route.

Jengji Market - those piles of shredded vegetables are bamboo shoot (white)

In the early part of the day, we headed to the Jengji Market and finally found the Manado coffee beans that I’ve been searching for.

Manado Coffee Beans and ketupat (rice cakes). Dried goods are frequently sold by volume, in three standard sized cups.

Shark being harvested.

We tried to look for more orchids, but were not successful. We only found conventional cut flower orchids.

At Airmadidi, we visited the old stone grave cemetary.

Waruga - the carved relief often indicate what the occupation of the person was.

The primitive men built each waruga vessel of stone and a removable roof for each. They’d carry this to the back of their houses. Due to the cholera outbreak, the waruga were gathered together here.

A collapsed Waruga and it's innards.

The dead are buried in a seated position. Women have their hands balled in a fist and placed knuckle to knuckle, with two China plates. Men have their hands interlocked and were buried with only one plate. They were also buried with other personal artifacts of value – like necklaces and bangles.

This relief shows how men and women are buried in the waruga.

This modern crude carving shows how people are buried inside the waruga.

The lines carved at the apex shows how many people are buried in the waruga.

We visited a zoo at Bitung, instead of going to the national park, to see the world’s smallest monkey, the Tarsius Spectrum. From there we glanced across the Molucca Sea where there are little islands, great diving spots.

Tarsius Spectrum - smallest primate in the world.

Bitung is the largest port in the whole of Sulawesi. The streets are wide. There seem to be fewer cars and it seems altogether cleaner than Manado.

We ended our day back in Manado with a spot of shopping and a final pick up of local food items – Satay and Roast Pork where the skin is finally sliced off and re-fried into crispy pork rinds.

The Pork is eaten with a fresh chilli paste and the satay – very meaty and rather dry and tough – comes with a sweet dark sauce and fried chilli.

While waiting, I sampled the popular local Minahasa dishes – dog meat and bat meat. Now, bear in mind that this is Minahasa food. This is sold at stalls next to chicken and beef. It’s not a prized special to eat this sort of thing over here.

Dog meat cooked dry and spicy.

Dog meat is tough, like beef, but cooked till tender. It’s cooked with ginger, lemon grass and is spicy, like rendang. The spiciness only hits you a few seconds later. The meat itself is not particularly tasty.

The method of preparation made the dish quite interesting and tasty. But there was that queasiness churning in the stomach of having eaten dog.

Bat meat cooked in a mild gravy.

Now the bat, on the other hand, since it isn’t associated in my head as a household pet, was very very tasty and very very enjoyable. Known as a tough meat, this was cooked till tender. The skin was soft, silky and gave some resistance and pull. The meat fell off the bone. The gravy was more mild, with coconut. I later found out that as a meat, bat is the most expensive to eat.

This was our last night in Manado.

I like the way they cut the banana and fan it out. The ratio of crust to banana is that much better. I can imagine a very ripened and sweet banana cooked this way. Crust and sweet. Heaven.

Pisang Goreng and noodle-filled Tauhu.

The innards of the fried taufu that is eaten with a spicy sambal.

Okay, the photo of my point:

Fanned out Pisang Goreng. As you can see, I do not have the discipline of a food blogger.

Today, I went out to Bunaken National Park. The skies were clear with a bit of clouds. But more importantly, the waves were calm. The seas here can get rough. It was a lovely ride out. About 45 minutes long.

Watching the experienced divers today, I surmised that diving is essentially an activity where you gotta like your dive mates. Most of the time, it’s spent talking. Talking on the way there, talking in between the dive, plus lunch, then talking the way from one dive site to another, and talking back to land. In between, you do the dive. Usually about an hour long, because someone at some point will run out of air. Since you descended as a group, you ascend as a group. The only time of silence is during the dive itself. Even then there are hand signals and eye contact.

I tried the Discovery Dive, which cost me US$90. Yes, when they quote dives, it is in USD.

I have no pictures to prove what I did, because the underwater camera failed to work and I didn’t have my own camera.

However, I have my tracker map that shows where I went. The pins indicate the dive sites.

The Discovery Dive is not really diving. It’s someone in the driver’s seat, and you’re along for the ride. But unlike being in the driver’s seat, you have to learn a few hand signals. No one can scream at you to watch out. You gotta do your own mask cleaning, balance out the pressure in the ears, or suffer pain. There’s stuff to think about, besides your own life suddenly being absolutely out of your control.

Panic is your worst enemy. And I came face to face with mine.

My first dive was close to disaster. Salt water up nose. Salt water in throat. I thumbed up to surface. There is nothing like fear of drowning. I can imagine the pain. The ultra-salty water piercing the lungs. I have almost drowned twice in my life and both experiences were not pleasant. I only managed to dive up to 4 meters before giving up.

The second attempt, was half an hour long. It was at this coral reef that dropped down a cliff. I made it to a depth of 9 meters. There were plenty of pretty things there. But not knowing what those pretty things are didn’t make the experience as rich and fulfilling as could be. I saw this blue eel with orange fringes. A lobster looking thing hiding in coral, that if I saw it again, would know that I came face to face with it before. There were these huge angelfish looking fish. And plenty of clown fish playing in anemone. Then there was the trigger fish that is best left alone. There were fish of neon colour, small fish, large fish, fish that sometimes were too friendly. And those coral. Huge banks of them, that you’re so scared your flippers would lop one off, and there you go, destroying years of natural hard work.

So that deep blue ocean – where you can’t see the ocean floor and where there are plenty of hidden mysteries, are best, to me, left as mysteries.

Yesterday, when we visited the Hill of Prayer, when it rained, the mist rose up the mountains and it got so cold, it felt like we were in some other country in winter.

We basically covered the same area. Today, I have a more accurate map.

Not your ordinary Coke Lite.

We went further than yesterday and visited Lake Linow, the traditional houses of Minahasa, looked into some Japanese caves, snacked on local pau at Kawang Koan, visited the Hill of Mercy which is set up to represent all 5 religious groups, etc etc.

I also found out that there are two types of Pisang Mas. One is fat and short, the same we get in Singapore. But there’s another thinner one.

The skinnier longer pisang mas.

Both are equally sweet and liked by old people, it seems. My mother likes pisang mas, although I am more a fan of the kek leng chio (Indian Banana – ie the bananas favoured by Indian people.) Does that prove the theory that old people favour the pisang mas?

Lake Linow is known for it’s beauty, the three shades of green, the serenity.

Multi-coloured Lake Linow.

I think it is a crater filled with water. It looks like the water is boiling, but it’s just the gases coming out of fissures. The smell of sulphur is present, but very mild.

On the other side of the park, an old visitor centre, in front of the fumerols there, describing geo-thermal electricity, stands abandoned. There is no more electricity being harvested here.

Fumerols and the unkempt park at Lake Linow.

We were brought to see the original Minahasa house. Today, it comes pre-assembled. You go and find the house you want by walking through a real life sample, then it’s transported over to you.

One sample of the traditional Minahasa house.

Notice the two stairs for each house. You’re supposed to not use the same stairs that you enter with to leave the house. It’s supposedly bad luck.

Interior of the sample Minahasa house.

The house has a high roof and is very cool inside.

An example of the modern house from the sample traditional Minihasa house.

Japanese Caves.

Along the way, we noticed these caves. They were once used by the Japanese to store ammunition and they imprisoned the local women, raped them and kept them there to give birth. I don’t know why they’d want the women to give birth. But that was the story told to me.

Over at the town of Kawangkoan, we sampled a local favourite – pao. It was a very crude pao, but people from all around Manado flock over here to eat it, on the way to visit and take a photo of Christ Blessing blessing them.

It comes in two flavours. Sesame and char siew. Char siew was more like a dai pau.

Famous pau of Kawangkoa.

I found it like my aunt’s old attempts at making pau, when Hong Kong flour was not available to us.

But I was more intrigued by what I saw when I entered the shop:

Local bread. It sold out so fast, stock was replaced four times in ten minutes.

The outside texture of the bread looks like European bread, doesn’t it? Like a ciabatta or something.

The loaves are sliced and made into their version of Kaya Toast, which has no butter. It’s sticky, and sweet and coconutty.

Toasted kaya bread. Very sweet. Very coconutty.

Inside of the kaya toast.

The cross section of the bread. Rough.

The bread was rough, chewy and heavy. It isn’t as bad as it sounds, and is worth a try, if only just once.

Kawangkoan is also the peanut capital of the place.

Peanut monument in Kawangkoan.

Typical scene of Kawangkoan. People still use horses for public transportation.

We also went to try out the hot springs, but it was very basic and a bit scary looking. Still, for under a buck, we tried it out for a while. It was not too hot. In fact, I thought it was not hot enough. And that’s a big deal, ’cause I hate hot things.

Just before that, we went up the Hill of Mercy, that represents the 5 religions in the area – Catholics, Protesants, Muslims, Buddhists and Hindus. To get up to the top is 2400 steps. I didn’t take the steps, but got high enough to see this.

View from Hill of Mercy.

The hot springs here are hot enough to cook corn.

Boiling corn in sulphur water.

Hot and tasty corn?

There’s other little things I did too. But I shall spare you the details. Plus, I still have my personal diary to update and this post is one lengthy one!

Let’s see if the weather holds up tomorrow. If so, then I may just attempt a discovery dive in Bunaken National Park.

Home to just over half a million people, of whom 70% are Christians, I saw many pretty churches along the way. The town feels cleaner than Bali, and I never expected to say this: I feel safe. I don’t feel leered at or that everyone is looking to make a quick buck from me. It could be because tourism accounts for very little of this island’s economy. Fishing and agriculture is still it’s main business.

Manado is home to Bunaken National Park. I’m not a diver, but supposedly this marine park is a big deal. My cousin has dived here four times already and can’t get enough of the place.

Bunaken Marine National Park from the air. The pointy one is a typical cone-shaped volcano, the dormant Pulau Manado Tua.

We are staying in simple accommodation which is fine for those who just want to get out there and dive and then crash back in the room. Food is provided by the “resort” for all meals.

First thing out of the airport, we head to Saroja for the famous Nasi Kuning.

Saroja - the famous Nasi Kuning can be found here.

The rice is placed on a fan-shaped palm leaf and wrapped up. No rubber band needed.

Bundles of Nasi Kuning.

Nasi Kuning unwrapped.

This is a yellow rice dish with mutton and potatoes, a boiled egg and chilli. The mutton is a dry type and it was like eating pork floss with rice. Only it was mutton. The mutton is on the sweet side with spicy chilli. It was simple and delicious!

Close up of Nasi Kuning.

And that was basically the highlght of the first day. By the time we arrived at the place we are to stay for 6 days, it was storming. And I mean storming. Waves were crashing into the dining hall. We had to huddle in the back kitchen to eat our Nasi Kuning.

Considering this is all volcanic seismically unstable land, we started thinking about all the tsunamis that have happened not too long ago. At night, during dinner, the rain had abated to a driving drizzle. Still then, waves were crashing in. They were at least 3 meters high. And loud.

I didn’t take a photo of dinner. It was a simple meal. But the food was so fresh. The grilled fish was excellent as was the stir fried vegetable. They also have this interesting cincalok chilli.

I was told the next day that Manado people love chilli. If it isn’t hot enough and their sweat pores are not pouring, no matter how good the food actually is, it’s still not good enough.

The next day, while half the group went diving, we headed inland toward the highlands of Tomohon.

This is a rather inaccurate map of the route we took.

We saw Christ Blessing on the peak of this land developed by CitraLand. It is said that the developer of this land was struck by cancer. After he started believing in God and built this statue, his cancer went into remission.

Christ Blessing monument.

Those houses are millions of dollars and the larger ones around the area (not pictured) cost billions of dollars.

On the way we passed loads of coconut trees and clove trees. Manado is famous for cloves and they export it to Jakarta to put into cigarettes.

There were a lot of fruit stalls along the way and they all like to stack their fruits in a pyramid.

A typical fruit stall along the way to Tomohon.

Fruit Pyramids of Tomohon.

There is an abundance of bamboo in the area and it is used for making baskets, furniture, and even in construction for support beams.

A house being constructed along the way up to Tomohon.

Bamboo used in making a cage for cockerels in the background.

Indoor and outdoor brooms made of parts of the coconut tree.

The broom handles are made of bamboo, if you notice. The coconut fibre makes up the soft brush, while the hard main stem of the dried coconut leaf goes to make the sapulidli.

When visiting these small towns, you are reminded just how much everything is used up. There is little wastage of the resources available.

All resources… For, among the usual beans, dried fish and fruit, at the markets of Tomohon, we saw…

Snake. I didn't expect snakes to be hollow inside.

Field rats from the rice fields are cleaner than house rats.

Bats with their chopped off wings in a stack in the background.

The long snout of a wild boar. A tasty treat for some.

And also, man’s best friend isn’t so valued here.

Dogs. There is a Manado dish in which dogs are cooked in their own blood.

The guide told me that only old and sickly dogs are harvested. But really, looking at the cage of dogs waiting to be slaughtered, I couldn’t tell if they were sickly looking because of the way they were kept or because they were sickly when caught. I find it hard to believe that they’re caught for food because they are old and sickly.

Dogs who would soon meet their death.

The market was brutal. There was a lot of blood everywhere. The floor was black and encrusted with dried blood of animals killed and bought and sold for years.

We made our way to the fresh water Lake Tondano where we had the freshest tilapia I’ve ever tasted. And we visited a pagoda, sampled durian, rambutan and duku…

But nothing could take my mind off what I’d seen in the market. But what suprised me the most was me. That I wasn’t shocked or taken aback by this. I didn’t feel the injustice that animal activitists feel. It is just the way it is.

We left Albuquerque and headed back to Colorado. The high road into Taos was lush and green, the road out back turned dry and harsh.

There was little in between. No towns, no gas stations. Just a long straight road through red dirt. Well, there was a small casino along the way. Sticking out in the middle of nowhere. What dusty traveller would wander in there?

I thought I might have a peek inside, but the thought of the long drive we still have yet to complete prevented me from stopping. I needed to get to Mesa Verde before 5pm to book a free tour for the next day.

The desert landscape became a little monotonous until we hit Colorado again. The drive from Durango to Cortez, past the Mesa Verde National Park, was beautiful.

We headed to Mesa Verde National Park to book a tour with the National Park Service for one of the tours to explore cave dwellings created by the Puebloans.

Afternoon view of Mesa.

Morning view of mesa.

Then, it was off to explore the various kivas and how they kept warm and air circulating from kiva to kiva as their communities developed.

We also found views of the cliff dwellings driving atop the mesa. This gave us a sense of scale of what we would visit the next day.

Mesa Verde Oak Tree House

Mesa Verde Cliff Dwellings.

Mesa Verde Cliff Palace.

Why these people decided to plant on top and live in these cliff dwellings and climb up and down steep walls is a guess.

Can you spot the people leaving the Cliff Palace in the photo above? We’d be doing exactly that the next day.

Talking kiva at Cliff Palace.

Another tour group ahead of us listens to their guide as they look into a kiva.

Cliff Palace dwellings.

Climbing out of a kiva.

Looking inside the kiva (without the roof).

The photo above shows the innards of a kiva. The hole in the middle is where the fire burns. There’s a flat slab right near the fire hole, if you can see. Behind that slab is a hole – not seen in this photo – that deflects the fire and regulates the temperature as warm air moves from room to room. Well, at least that’s what I understood of the kiva.

Tree at Mesa Verde National Park.

Landscape at Mesa Verde National Park.

View at Mesa Verde National Park.

Landscape at Mesa Verde National Park.

There are a lot of warnings about climbing up and down the cliff dwellings, but it wasn’t hard at all.

After the morning tour, we headed off for Montrose.

Boy, it’s tiring playing catch up with blog posts. Especially on a trip so long.

Santa Fe is like Taos on steroids. If Taos grew up, it would want to be Santa Fe. It’s bigger, more touristy with proportionately more art galleries. Up the number of tourists and cars, and you have one rather overcrowded Taos. That, to me is Santa Fe.

One of many many shops in Santa Fe.

You can weave your way through the old town, that is full of gift shops, art shops, galleries and some cathedrals that were a nice pop in, look and see. Some charge entry fees. Unless you’re really hard up to see every single one, you can get your fill of cathedrals for free.

Inside a cathedral.

If you like doing the arty quaint shop scene, you’d like Santa Fe. But I personally don’t think it’s anything much.

There were some interesting pieces I saw, but made of cast iron, much too heavy to lug home.

We found our way to the Santa Fe railway yard that now houses more art places and we were invited in to have a look around as they set up for an art exhibition.

Art exhibition being set up in Santa Fe.

On some days, there is a Farmer’s Market there – which was why we went there in the first place, but it was too early in the day. The farmers wake up late on Thursdays.

Santa Fe Railway Yard.

We visited the New Mexico State Capitol Building in Santa Fe that was full of art. It’s really nice to walk through. I preferred visiting it than the old town, actually. Maybe because it had nice airconditioning.

Inside of New Mexico State Capitol building.

Some artwork in New Mexico State Capitol building.

Quilt exhibition inside New Mexico State Capitol building.

Both Santa Fe and Albuquerque are towns on the old Route 66. Having covered some of that route on the previous road trip, it was good to fill in more blank spots.

Albuquerque celebrates being on Route 66.

Albuquerque in contrast is more industrial, a bigger town – size-wise, building-wise. But the main town is pretty much dead. Nothing seems to be going on there.

The old town of Albuquerque is like an old cowboy outpost town and has a nice square in the centre. As part of the town’s revival efforts, in summer, free concerts are organised on the last Thursday of every month at sunset.

A concert in Old Town Albuquerque.

San Felipe de Neri Parish, Albuquerque.

Sunset from outside Albuquerque.

Stayed at a reasonably priced Best Western Plus Executive Suite with a huge room and a living room. Ate at Landry’s that night.

Landry's Surf and Turf.

Landry's: Not sure about that frozen veg in there.

I called Starhub. Because lately I’ve been getting a lot of these bill overdue notices, when I’ve sent in all the reply stubs with required credit card information.

Being a hubber, as they like to refer to customers who use their TV, mobile and fixed line services, I wanted to start on a clean slate.

I called their customer service line and told them I wanted to pay for everything.

But I could not.

I was informed that they can only accept one payment for one bill at one time.

“So I have to call later to pay another bill?”

“Maybe another few days, because it takes 3-4 days to clear.”

“So for every single bill I pay, I have to make a separate call for each one?”

“Yes. This is why we do not recommend you call to pay.”

Ohhh. I paused. A pregnant pause. But I could not let this go.

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? It’s like going to a shop and picking out a blouse and a skirt. When I go to pay, the cashier tells me, “Sorry, you can only buy the blouse today. If you want the skirt, come tomorrow.”"

” I can try to make both payments for you and if one is rejected, I’ll give you a call.”

“Fine,” I said.

“Do you want to pay for the previous bill or the current bill?”

That was it.

“You know what? It’s okay. I’ll just tear out the stub and send my credit card information in.”

Maybe Starhub is doing too well. It confounds me how their customer service would not want to collect payment in full when the customer has credit card in hand and wants to pay.

Cashflow is everything. Business know that you collect the money first, because people will wait to collect their goods after they’ve paid. There’s no turning back. If they have the goods and they have to wait in line just to pay, it’s easy for them to give up on lining up, chuck the stuff and walk away.

The occasions a person is willing to wait in line to pay with goods in hand are for a good bargain that’s too hard to miss, a last minute birthday gift, or Christmas.

McDonald’s. Pay first.

Amazon. Pay first.

If the customer doesn’t have to pay first, then when they are willing to pay, collect as much payment as you can.

That, is how to do business.

Our journey to Taos was extended for over an hour as we were diverted from the main highway from what appeared to be a bad car crash.

There were a lot of news crews filming away, and it was only later in the night, when we had settled into our room at Taos, that we’d realised what we had seen was the conclusion of the capture of the Dougherty Gang.

Other than that, the I-25 wasn’t a great drive. Not until we got toward the New Mexico border and into the Raton Pass, that gave us some really nice views.

Hitting the state of New Mexico, the landscape turns lush. We pass through some really remote and beautiful towns. Eagle Nest is one. But the town feels like a place for people in transition. Probably due to the number of RV parks.

Here is a lousy panorama along the way, and a closer view of the same below.

Along the way to Taos

We drove beyond Taos to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, which seems to be a choice spot for suicides. It was sad to see the number of notes and flowers lining the bridge in memory of loved ones.

A more common view of the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge

A less common view of the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge

For those who are not forgotten at the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge

The Rio Grande Gorge

A coffee bus for tourists visiting the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge

Taos is a little town overloaded with galleries and any other shop to entrap tourists. I didn’t really like it.

A typical Taos building bathed in the light of sunset.

A painting of a typical Taos building in one of the many art galleries.

Sunflower in Taos as the sun set.

We stayed at the El Pueblo Lodge that is highly ranked on TripAdvisor. I was underwhelmed. The room we got was so huge it could easily fit in 2 kings and a queen bed, but had an undersized box airconditioner and a tiny bathroom.

A call to reception and I was informed they have a few fans, “we’ll see ifthey’re still available”. Never got a call back. Zero followup. In the end, we perspired our way to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night in frustration and threw the doors open.

Perhaps it was my uncomfortable stay here that coloured my perception of Taos.

The folks at the hotel recommended Orlando’s for dinner as a shining example of New Mexican food. It was okay, it was nothing special or exceptional. I cannot particularly remember anything particularly flavourful, except for the strong taste of under seasoned chilli that burned the tongue.

Inside Orlando's, Taos.

Food in Orlando's, Taos. I didn't care enough to remember what it was.

Innards of the above.