Rishikesh!!

A couchsurfer that I met in San Francisco told me that his favorite Indian city was Rishikesh. I had nothing to add to his comment because I have never given much thought to Rishikesh. It's a small holy town on the banks of the Ganges (or Ganga). The one time I had visited Rishikesh was when I was around 12 and the only thing I remember was that the water was freezing and the bathrooms were terrible. Thanks to the CSer's comment, I decided to tag along with my dad on his business trip there.

Rishikesh was a 5-6ish hour long drive from Delhi. The drive there was pretty unremarkable. Tons of dhabas (food stalls) on the way but I didn't eat there cos of my delicate digestion. At first sight, Rishikesh was everything that I expected from a small sized north-indian town. Traffic, dust, trucks everywhere. Our hotel was in a shitty part of town with nothing to offer. I was very ready to spend the next three days in the hotel with my book. However, since my parents hate to see me being lazy (read: comfortable), my mom dragged me out to explore the city.

Rishikesh was a revelation. Thankfully we were visting in the off season so the town was deserted for me to explore. The city lies on both sides of the river Ganges. The first shock to me was to see that the river was so clean! The water was completely clear and freezing cold. The town was sooooo clean too. There were cows everywhere (and cow droppings too) but I was shocked to see that the streets were litter free. The town was hilly ups and downs of quaint by-lanes and small stores. We started at this bridge called Ram-Jhula which is an awesome suspension bridge. This HUGE bridge was actually moving when I was jumping on it.. and it was filled with monkeys. I think I was exceptionally brave to walk across the narrow bridge without freaking out and the monkeys also co-operated by not attacking me.

The most amazing part of Rishikesh is so hard to describe. Imagine a city with ancient roots. It is filled with ashrams where people across the world come to meditate and to learn yoga. This is where yoga began. Everywhere in the city you see schools teachings different forms of dance, music and instruments. The air is thick with culture. This is what the city is all about. To top it off, it rests in the lap of Himalayas, surrounded by forests with the gorgeous Ganga gurgling by. The sidelines are dotted with the city's namesake, rishis (sages), who I bet have incredible experiences to share. I actually saw this Rishi put this hands under a urinating cow and wash his wound. We drove through the forests (called the Rajaji National Park) and while the roads along the mountain cliffs were terrifying, the drive was still delightful. Another real nice feature of Rishikesh was these adorable little cafes dotting the banks of the Ganga. Most of these very bohemian eclectic with varied cuisines on the menu and sporting breathtaking river views. I tried Yak cheese (it is as brave as I could get in the mostly vegetarian town of Rishikesh) and it tasted fresh and un-weird. The cafes were filled with friendly travelers from across the world. I identified some French, German, Russian and American English being spoken but no clue about the rest. I figured my parents wouldn't be comfortable with me socializing with strangers so I didn't really talk to them.

Rishikesh is also the hub for adventure sports. Tons of companies are offering rafting and camping trips along the banks of Ganga. I couldn't do this as I needed to stick with my dad but the camps are truly gorgeous. They also have Asia's highest bungee jump (or so they claim : 83 m) and something called flyingfox (no clue what that is). It's also filled with real spas and places claiming to be spas with Ananda Spa being one of the world's best spas (and accordingly priced at around $500 per night).

Being a girl in India sucks ass.

I am patriotic. Inspite of what the title might indicate, I madly love India. With the good stuff and the acceptable bad stuff. However, some of the bad stuff is not acceptable anymore. I feel pride at India Gate, I can eat more pani-puris than anyone, and I cried when India won the World Cup (finally!).

I still hate coming back here.

India guys know they are special the minute they are born. They are treated differently because the society demands it. My brother and I always had different curfews as kids.  Even today at age 27, I can't leave home without my brother as an escort and he knows this. It is completely unheard of for an Indian girl to openly smoke a cigarette or buy booze. We always need to ask guys to help us for these simple pleasures. Just like every any male who gets treated like God, my brother assumes that this gives him some kind of power over me. The other day we had a fight in which he told me, "Stay in your place". This is not some "labor-class" uneducated person that we as a country love to blame for all crimes in the city. This is a guy that had the same education as me but believes that he is superior to me because I need him to drive me to buy a recharge-card. And whether we like to admit it or not, this is the pervasive attitude in this male-freaking-dominated society.

Sexual harassment is so common in India that we don't even know it is happening. From the auto-driver adjusting his mirror to stare at you, to the shop-keeper slimily touching your hands while returning the change, it’s a part of life. (By age 20, I noticed that I automatically put the money down on the counter every time). I don't think I have ever walked on a street without constantly expecting someone's hand to brush my ass. Each time that I visit home, I have a set of "India-clothes" that I have to wear. The clothes can't be above my shins, well-fitted or basically flattering in any way. The whole point is to not draw attention. The first time I visited home from the U.S., all-female empowered, I fought with my dad about his. He replied, "Is it too much to ask that my daughter is safe?" Every Indian girl is taught that preventing misconduct is somehow her responsibility. If we don't "ask for it", we don't get shit. I remember when I was 16, some creep in the building wrote some lewd comments about me all over the walls. I wasn't bothered or upset when I read it. By age 16, we are immune to sexual harassment. The only impact that it had on my life that was that my freedom was restricted. That asshole wrote something about how he sees me buying bread at the grocery store 100 feet away from our apartments, and my bread-buying privileges were revoked. When I was 15, a guy in my class always touched girls inappropriately. I confronted him threatening to complain but deep down I knew that the teacher would blame that my school uniform (which was fashionably just above my knee) was too short. A yoga instructor molested me in a class of 50 people just because he knew he had the same immunity. He was right. I didn't complain because I knew that the only thing that would change is that I wouldn't be allowed to go to such classes in the future.  I don't blame my parents or my teacher, I know they were just afraid for my safety, but I also refuse to accept this as normal behavior.

Where I live right now is the most sexually frustrated pocket of India (Haryana), so things are a little extreme and most Indians won't agree with the restrictions. But even living in a metropolitan city, we CONSTANTLY face the same discrimination, probably in subtler forms. I remember that my friend once got into a minor accident, and the cops' entire demeanor changed when they saw that I was wearing shorts. He kept focusing on the "type" of girl I was ( I wasn't even driving) and such "type" of girls always get into trouble. I was being punished for wearing shorts! This just one of a zillion examples where it is routine to treat a girl like shit based on “morality”.  And all the so-called "moral police" are the most sexually frustrated of the bunch.

The only reason that today the whole country is in an uproar about the girl who got gang-raped is because she followed all the rules and it didn't work. She was returning from a movie and not from a club, she was accompanied by a male friend, and the media probably couldn't find fault in the clothes that she was wearing. If the same girl was returning home drunk alone wearing a skirt, SHE would be the one to blame.

So yep, as much as I love India, I won't deny that I am happy to leave.

P.S. I realized like it sounds like a rant against my parents. I am having an amazing time with my loving parents who treat me like a princess on my visits here. I just am ready to be treated as a human by society in general.

What is my Diwali like?

So it's another Diwali away from home and all I have are memories of all the years celebrating the 'Indian Christmas". With all the international friends I have made over the past years, I am dying to show them what Diwali is like at home in India. What I grew up with. The real deal. But since I can't, this is my next best attempt.

The prep for Diwali would start days before. So every year most families exchange boxes of dry-fruits and sweets. Everywhere across the country you get boxes of assorted dry-fruits packed beautifully (see pic). But these didn't have the best quality dry-fruits, so weeks earlier my mom would buy it all individually and we would all sit around the dining table, with piles of dry-fruit and all of would pack it in pretty boxes. I remember that we were allowed unlimited access to munch on all the dry-fruits by my mom but all I could think of was how expensive the dry-fruits were so I would keep monitoring how much my bro n sis were eating (I am the family miser). We would also send cards to all the family/friends a few weeks before. Luckily for us, my mom n dad believed that we should all wear new clothes on Diwali.. so ka-ching! All of us would go shopping before every Diwali for new clothes. Diwali is the festival of lights and everyone decorates their homes with tiny oil lamps. My mom, sis and I would paint all these pottery lamps indivisually in the days preceding the big day.

Diwali is spread over 3 days. The first day (2 days before Diwali) is called "Dhanteras". This is a day when all businesses start new account books and it's the holiest day of the year to buy silver (not sure why). So every dhanteras, all we did was a tiny worship ceremony in the evening and then we would all go shop for some tiny silverware just to follow tradition. We were allowed to light one lamp on this night.. the significance of which I have completely forgotton. The day before is called "Small Diwali".. we didn't do anything special really on this day except that we were allowed to burst some of the fireworks and we were allowed to light one lamp in every room. So the reason people light lamps on Diwali is because the myth is that Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, visits your home on this day and she won't enter if it's dark.. so yep.. it's all about the money :P

The main day today is simply called Diwali or "Big Diwali" translated in Hindi. This is celebrated (very broadly) because one of the main dudes in Hindu mythology returned home after 14 years of exile. This guy is super loved so it's a really big deal to Hindus. I'm not gonna include too much of the history lesson cos I want this to be about my Diwali experience each year. The first memory of every Diwali is my mom using that excuse to wake us up early.."get up early.. it's Diwali.. you need to look fresh on Diwali". My mom and dad are OBSESSED with us taking a shower. The nano-second I wake up, it's the only thing that they can think of. And on Diwali, they milk the "holiness" of the day to fulfill this obsession. Then we go shop for fresh flowers to decorate the house. The yellow marigold is the standard flower that everyone uses to decorate all the doorways and the balcony at home. The rest of the day would just be spent chilling at home. eating amazing food, and gorging on the insane amount of sweets that other people sent over. Around 7 pm in the evening, we have the "pooja" or the worship at home. Most families have a very elaborate ceremony on Diwali. As a family, 5 of us would just crowd in our tiny kitchen and try to muddle our way through what the ceremony should be. We sing some hymns and then my dad would lead us in saying thanks. Everytime we have this prayer, I would love to open my eyes and observe how everyone else is behaving. My brother would always have this intense expression like he is summoning Goddess Lakshmi with all the personal favor he can manage, my mom just seemed like she is lost in her world of devotion.. my sister looked pretty normal .. and my dad looked super calm and peaceful. Some of the hymns were soooooo long and I would just wait for the magic words of the last paragraph. I remember feeling like a long distance runner in the final sprint everytime I heard that. Anybody could sense the renewed energy the minute we hit that paragraph :P Also right after the worship was the elaborate and special Diwali meal that my mom made.. so that occupied a lot of my thoughts.

So after the meal is the social part of Diwali. This is when people finally get together and celebrate with everyone else. Our muslim neighbors would visit us to wish us. We would all head to the terrace on my building and all the neighbors would be there. Everyone bursts crackers (fireworks).. with the boys going for the bombs and the girls doing all the ones with the pretty lights. I have many memories of narrow escapes with bombs. Most of my night would be spent with my fingers in my ears. It's so gorgeous to stand on the terrace and watch the whole city erupting with fireworks at the same time. It also came with dense layers of air pollution and a whole night of sound pollution. This is why some Diwalis ago, my family decided to stop doing the fireworks (also I could pocket the firework money). But we would still stand in the balcony for hours and watch our city light up around us :)

Happy Diwali everyone :) 

How people line their houses with lamps.

This is the usual level of floor decoration with flowers and lamps

The lamps called "diyas" that we would hand-paint

The dry fruit boxes we would pack :P

Why it doesn't suck to leave Singapore?

Since I've booked my tickets, I keep having mini panic attacks through the day at the thought of leaving. I keep trying to think of all the zen stuff.."change is inevitable" but that's clearly not helping. 'Who moved my cheese' was a life-changing book until I actually need it to change my life. So I'm just resorting to what I do best.. make lists.. so here goes (in no order):

1) NACHOS!

2) Can wear boots again.

3) Get to spend Dads birthday with him after years.

4) Can hang out at Purdue with Rob.

5) Can cook for real.. will have oven again!

6) Cheap alcohol!!

7)  Affordable shopping!

8) Can attend classes again!

9) Group ex classes

10) Can visit Mansha and Sameer in their new married home. 

11) Can organize cool events for the West Lafayette CS community. 

12) I don't wanna go back :(

13) Can have access to all my shoes!!

14) Free bowling at Rob's place with lots of nacho cheese and chips.

15) Can probably bug Zherui into teachiing some cooking. 

16) Can finally graduate and get a real job.

17) Can save more money and go to Europe.

18) Kelly's baby boy!!

19) ...

20)..

21).

I don't wanna go back!!!!

Unexpected lessons

So I was walking on the street yesterday, all dressed up in my sundress and flipflops, ready to hit Tanjong Beach Club. I suddenly saw this reallllyyy old and frail Uncle pushing a metal cart filled with recyclables. He seemed between 80-90 years of age and was completely hunched due to age. I am by no means a great samaritan but seeing someone so weak struggling with his cart on the uphill slope just was too heart-rending to not care about. Also, I knew that I wasn't going anywhere important. I was going to the beach to party with my friends.

I was carrying a stack of books and I started helping him by pushing the cart with my one free hand. It helped a bit, but all the people around could see that we were clearly struggling. I even dropped my books at some point. So we were then on an uphill slope pushing a metal cart stacked high with cardboard, with my books on the ground and still noone offered to even pick up the books for me. After 30 seconds of no reaction from the swarm of people around us, I realized that I can't half-ass this anymore. After what looked like a game of Twister, I managed to keep the cart steady and pick up the books at the same time. After dumping my books in the cart, I took it from him and we started walking ahead slowly. 

I first started walking at what I thought was a slow pace. After Uncle needed to rest in a few mins, I realized that my slow pace was too taxing on him. So we started out on a new speed which literally seemed like the definition of baby steps. Any driving past us in the car would have assumed that we are standing still. That's how slowly we walked. And for the next 30 minutes. Walking at a snail's pace with Uncle shuffling next to me was the most relaxing 30 minutes of my week. All I was focussed on was pushing that cart on the uneven sidewalk, avoiding the ditches and just enjoying the moment. Uncle and I tried some conversation but it didn't get very far. The only sentences we exchanged was him contantly offering "you go home", me replying, "No. no, I push". As we walked along the sidewalk, people for some reason, looked mad. Everyone stared and most people gave these disdainful looks, I have no idea why. The cart was clearly heavy for me and nobody offfered to push. I felt like I had stepped into his world of indifference and for once I was seeing the other side. But it was so relaxing and peaceful to walk at a snail's pace, for once really look around my own neighbourhood while constantly exchanging smiles with this stranger. It's so hard to describe but it was one of the most enriching experiences ever. I felt all my stresses were so self-made, so avoidable, compared to Uncle pushing this heavy cart for miles. 

After 30 mins or so, we reached a bus stop and he said that was his destination. I am sure that he was saying that only cos he didn't want me to help anymore. You could see this clear expression of gratitude mixed with embarassment everytime he insisted that he wanted me to go home. His look of hurt pride when I carefully asked him if he wanted to sit on the cart (he looked very tired as we walked), showed me clearly that he would rather push the cart than feel incapable. So I had to convince him that I truly had nothing to do and he was helping me be less bored. At the bus stop, I sat down with him (again with everyone staring) and I tried to convince him that I can walk him home. He insisted he was okay. Not knowing what to do, I just gave him a hug and asked him to take care. Then verrryyyyy suprisingly, he says, "Monday 1 o clock, I wait here". I tried to explain that I would be at work, but he just kept repeating it, "Monday 1 o clock, today sunday, tomorrow Monday.. Monday 1 o clock, I wait here for you". I promised him I would come and I walked away, my day a million times brighter. What's funny about this whole situation is that he thought I was the one who did him a favor.

Epilogue

Today, I bought some fruits for both us and even took a cab from work so that I can meet Uncle in time. Waited from 1.00 to 1.30. I guess Uncle couldn't make it. He's so old :( I tried to ask a bunch of kids at the bus-stop for some paper and a pen so that I could leave a note for him. With their giant school bags, they all replied, "don't have". Punks. 

What happened to Indian journalism?

This is a question that I have been asking myself SEVERAL times over. Each time I read any Indian magazine or newspaper in fact. But this glaring example of  biased and shoddy journalism is just too hard for me to not rant about.

So the big news of today is how these poor Indian parents are being victimized by the US government by placing their child in Child Protective Services (CPS).  Many news articles are clearly taking this stance. IBNLive goes one step ahead by even making the headline biased, "US denies Indian parents access to their child". The back story: a child fell from the bed (according to the parents) and they took him to the hospital. Upon examination, the doctors believed that the child also has injuries that are consistent with excessive and intentional shaking of the child. So they reported the parents to CPS. 

WHY IS THE CPS WRONG IN TAKING THE CHILD AWAY??

Indian culture as a whole has two traits that I don't agree with:

1) Ghar ki baat ghar main rehne do (family affairs should be dealt within the family):

While diminishing, this attitude is still largely prevalent. If the examination happened in India, it would be very normal for the doctors to sweep the matter under the rug because it is "a family matter". While I have no actual research or numbers to support this claim, I am strongly believe that this is a huge factor for many family-abuse related cases going unreported. 

2) Excessive Melodrama

Ekta Kapoor's whole life success is based upon tapping this trait of ours. We don't need a valid reason to create unnecessary hype and melodrama. This whole episode has become a gut-wrenching tale of a poor hapless child being separated from his devastated parents. It's not. It's a story of two parents who may not have met the standards of parenting required by the country that they live in. If the child was being shaken, the government is not at fault for giving the child a safer environment. But no, we as a country love to dramatize everything. The Indian government is involved for god's sake. According to the opinion of my friends living in Australia, the whole Australian racial attacks started off as a few random muggings. Once the second Indian got mugged, we raised hell about a pattern and made it worldwide news. This prompted actual racial attacks cos apparently WE made it a thing! 

Now, I know the pitfalls of the foster system and how the child may have better off with the Indian parents. This debate is not about that. It's about the attitude of the Indian media towards reporting an event in a clearly biased manner instead of merely reporting the facts. I also know that comparison to the Norway incident will be made. But that was a totally different incident. Some news channel (that I have never heard of before) called newsx reports, "In a shocking virtual replay of the Norway custody case..". Seriously guys? That kid was eating with his hands. This kid had internal damage to his body. And in both situations, we Indians are the victims because that's a role we freaking love to play. 

P.S. To give credit where it is due, The Hindu's report was unbiased and kept up to the standards that it is known for. 

Tough love

So my whole drama with Rob might finally have come to a conclusion. We are not talking anymore. It's tearing me apart to lose my best friend. For the first time, I ignored some 50 of his calls, his texts, and shut him out. It hurts me as much as it's hurting him but I can't tell him that. I can't tell him that it means everything in the world to me to see him happy. I want to tell him he has been my family, my friend, my confidante, my support-system and I wish now he wasn't this stranger that I don't know. But I can't tell him all this. Every time I tried to help him move on, he took it as a sign that there is still hope for him and took advantage of it.

Rob, this is what I want to tell you knowing that you wouldn't listen. I love you as my best friend. As the guy that I shared most of my past 2.5 years with. I hate you as my ex-boyfriend that won't let me move on. I will miss you from the bottom of my heart. I will miss the queso at Don Pablos, the long drives in the Z, I will miss the Pizza Hut buffet and the obsessive couponing. I will miss going to Payless at 3 am in the night. I'll miss dancing in Cactus with you and you carrying me piggyback cos my feet hurt. I'll miss the road trips and the movie nights. However, I won't miss the fights and the tears. I won't miss you getting drunk and punching holes in the wall and your ibuprofen projectiles on my face :) I won't miss the feeling of helplessness as I beg you to let me get over you. There are some good memories. Let's cherish them and move on positively. Be happy. I am doing this because I care for you and I care about myself too. I will always think of time good times and miss you as my best friend.

This too shall pass


The doors seem shut,

The sky seems grey,

You feel like you can’t

Get through today

Hold on a little stronger

It’s not that much longer

Guess all I’m trying to say,

It’s all gonna be okay



Your friends are there

You just need to look

The answers you seek

Are not in any book

Don’t be ruled by fear

In my thoughts you're near

What I’m trying to tell you,

You’re gonna stop being blue



Just step out the door

Look all around

Your life is beautiful

Joys waiting to be found

Stand brave, stand tall

may stumble won’t fall

The message that I convey,

There will be better days.



I know it’s hard

I’ve been there too

But I can’t be of help

It has to be you

You’re almost there now

Find the will somehow

Trust me, soon you’ll laugh

Rob, this too shall pass.

Epilogue: We started talking again two weeks later.. he promises to be a good friend. Dec, 2012 and it's mostly holding true.

Indonesia trip

This is specially for Vlad. I am so sorry it took so long. 

So I know I promised a whole bunch of you that I'll give you the details of my Indonesia trip. I wish I can pretend that I was too busy to write it but the truth is that I was just too lazy :( But here goes.

Broadly, this was my itinerary: 

Singapore --> Jakarta --> Jogja --> Surabaya --> Singapore. (all tickets cost around 200 USD totally).

Pro tip: It was much cheaper to fly to Jakarta and then fly to Jogja, instead of flying to Jogja directly. Also, a common approach is to take a 7 hour bus from Jogja to Surabaya but because we were trying to squeeze everything in a long weekend, we preferred to fly. 

Day 1: So Cherlyn and I reach Jakarta around 9 pm and the plan was to explore the city by night. But we met a lot of shady characters at the airport and we had some interesting (ahem!) experiences at Jakarta airport so we just stayed at the airport and then left for Jogja the next morning. The airport is clean/comfortable and very modern.

Day 2: We reach Jogja around 8 am and we checked into this AWESOME hostel. (I don't remember the exact name but I can look it up whenever someone plans the trip). The hostel was like a 5-star hostel with a nice lounge, tv room, computers with internet and awesome breakfast. LOVED it! So you can rent a car specifying that you need to go to Borubudur, and Prambanan and the guy will take you for a fixed price. Again, I forget how much it exactly was but Teann and Cherlyn can perhaps help with those details. The ride from Jogja to Borubudur is around an hour and another hour and a half from Borubudur to Prambanan. Both temples are absolutely breathtaking. All of you are travellers so I know I don't need to tell you guys the feeling of standing in ancient temples so many centuries old. We stopped at a place for lunch between Borubudur and Prambanan. I would think that one day is enough to visit the temples but if you wanna spend some time around Jogja, you could make it two. 

Walking to the temple. Notice jeans in boiling weather (looking at you Cherlyn :P) and they give you those sarongs. No they are NOT souvenirs as one might imagine. 

Unbelievable view from temples. Each of those stupas holds a statue of Buddha.

Pro tip: While we were all wearing fully covered clothes thanks to Cherlyn doing her homework (which I am very thankful for :P ), I think anything normal is alright. You won't see local girls wearing shorts but there are so many tourists around in shorts that you won't draw too much attention. Also VERY VERY IMPORTANT: STUDENT IDS!!! The temples each cost around 20 USD without student ID and 10 bucks with it. So carry it!! Also, don't worry, this was the only big ticket expense. 

With food, the drivers get commission to take you to super overpriced places, so don't let them decide. Tell them you want to eat "cheap cheap" or that you want to eat on the roadside which is called a warang. A local must-do seems to be to eat at "lehesans" which are places where you sit on the floor and eat almost Japanese style.This is assuming you wanna go dirt cheap. I was aiming for an average of 10,000 rupiyah for my meals (which is around 1.5 SGD or 1 USD). 

Prambanan Temples

Lunch in the day. I had funny happenings with my stomach so I didn't eat anything :(

This is where we stopped for lunch. Adorable.

Yummy dinner. Also I can't believe that those portion sizes were enough. 

Day 3:

We spent half of the next day exploring Jogja which is so quaint and gorgeous. We walked amidst old buildings, one "palace" where the king's ceremonies happen (called the sultan's palace) and another "water palace" which was like a big tank of water but very nice architecture. This is called the Taman Sari. We mostly walked among these places and we also used the local "becaks" or rickshaws just for fun. At the king's palace, a tour guide is assigned to you and it wasn't voluntary. He then insisted that he'll show us how Batik is made. LAME. He took us to a house with tons of paintings and one lady in the corner doing some batik work. It was mainly to sell us the paintings which I guess we didn't wanna buy. Two things that I didn't do and apparently you should is to try this local delicacy called the "gudeg" and to explore the street art around Jogja.

Sultan's Palaces

Old and quaint Jogja

Sultan's Palace inside

Taman Sari

We spent the evening just getting our asses to Surabaya. We reached around midnight and took a cab from the airport. We took a prepaid cab which I generally recommend even if it's more expensive. So the highlight of my trip to Surabaya was this adorable hostel we stayed at. The owner was this unbelievably nice lady. She offered me mosquito repellent, guide books, organized a driver for us, and cooked for us every time we were around! And what was so unbelievably nice was that this was during Ramadan so her son and she couldn't even eat the meals that she cooked. So the hostel we stayed was just a home converted into a hostel so nothing fancy but comfortable enough. Clean bathrooms, hot water. 

Day 4: We spent most of today just exploring nearby, went out for food and then decided to nap in the evening cos we had to set out at midnight. The hostel aunty got us in touch with a driver who would drive us to Mount Bromo. The way it works is that you leave around midnight in a hired car (which was a nice, fancy, comfortable SUV). It's a 4 hour drive to this "meeting point" where you need to hire a jeep. Also you can rent winter jackets for around 1 USD. YOU NEED WINTER JACKETS. I live in bitter cold Indiana (it's snowing as we speak) and I had a jacket that is almost enough here. It wasn't enough. Not by a long shot. All of us who thought we were prepared ended up renting jackets. So definitely be very very prepared. After we took the jeep, we drove through some of the most winding roads and most amazingly weird landscapes to climb this really high mountain that gives a great view of Mount Bromo. The jeep ride was awesome. It's unbelieveably shaky and you can see out far and wide to pitch black plains. We were heading to see Mount Bromo at sunrise. BE EARLY!! I can't emphasize how important it was that we were early enough to catch a great spot. It'll be bloody freezing but go there as early as 5ish and snag a great spot. There is a nice coffee shop just next to the view point, so grab a quick coffee n then snag your spot. Once it's close to sunrise, everyone will be vying for a place on a very tight area so your whole Bromo experience might be ruined by your lack of a spot. 

Jeep to Mt. Bromo

Breathtaking view.

Walking towards the crater of Bromo

Love the bromo landscape. All ash.

Once you see the gorgeous view, and take a million pictures, then the jeep guy will drive you to the base of Mount Bromo. From here you can either trek up the volcano to see the crater or you can even rent a horse. We all decided to trek and what a trek it was. There is sand blowing everywhere and you can see all these sandy mountains around you, it's amazing. It was very challenging but in a fun way. Coming down is equally fun cos you need to hold this rope and slowly move down. It will be very very sandy and dusty. I tied my scarf around my nose which was a huge help. All your clothes will have sand in them by the end of this trek. 

After we came down from Bromo, the jeep took us back to our own car (parked at that meeting point) and we headed off to this waterfall called Medikeri. The waterfall is around 3-4 kms inside a forest. You will find a guide in the parking lot and yes you need the guide. There is also a small food stall in the parking lot where we grabbed a quick lunch. The trek in the forest is absolutely delightful. We had to cross shallow streams, walk on logs, climb through rocks, it was awesome!! The waterfall itself is fucking magnificient. You can rent an umbrella if you don't wanna get wet but I recommend that you are mentally ready to get very wet. It was one of the most beautiful waterfalls ever and the water was crystal clear. We jumped into the icy pool at the bottom of the waterfall and what an amazing feeling it was. For me, even though mostly unknown, the waterfall was as amazing as the bromo experience. 

Best waterfall ever.

We reached the hostel back around 5 pm and I decided to go explore the city a little bit. So public transport in Surabaya is for the very brave. You have this small mini van looking things that you need to hail. So I just asked a local where you go, he waited with me and stuff me in a van filled with indonesian men. Thankfully, I reached the mall safely and shopped for shoes :) My personal experience shopping for shoes in a very very fancy looking mall in Surabaya was that the quality was shit. The practically came apart in few months and the same thing happened to both pairs I bought. 

Day 5: So one thing that someone told me and I completely ignored was that there is nothing to see in Surabaya. I can't agree more. Surabaya is a gateway to Bromo and there is absolutely nothing else to see in the city. I spent the day doing some "sight-seeing" but it was really pointless with absolutely nothing worth seeing or recommending. So yep, that was the ending of our awesome trip :)

Sampoerna House (famous Indonesia handrolled cigarettes are supposedly made but mostly marketed here)

Only evidence that we were in "Chinatown"

Robotic Hand-Rolling in progress

Local street art

Local church

TL;DR: 

Day 1: Jakarta

Day 2,3 : Jogja, travel to Surabaya

Day 3,4,5: Surabaya, back to Singapore

(I would recommend spending one day lesser in Surabaya)

1) Tickets: 200 usd

2) hostel: around 25 USD totally (around 10 sgd per night)

3) food: between 5 USD per day approx.

4) Driver/car rental: 20 USD (guessing)

5) Temple tickets: 20 USD

6) VISA: 25 USD

7) Departure tax : 50,000 rupiyah or around 9 SGD

I know I spent exactly 150 SGD on the trip and around 200 USD on the flight tickets, and 25 USD on the visa. This is all the money I carried. 

I kinda went on a ramble here, but hope it helps you guys plan your future trip. I'll re-read it and edit it tomorrow.