Lies

It turns out I was quite the fat bastard back in Canada or I have picked up a parasite. In fact, both are probably true. Since arriving in August I have lost around 15 pounds. I guess sweating your bag off, eating nothing but chicken and rice and getting the shits weekly can really shed the pounds. With losing all of this weight comes a couple of things:

1) My golf clubs aare now metric. In Indonesia, golf distance is measured in metres. So, when my supple, saintly caddie whispers softly into my ear "Meester, you are 125 away.", I had to do some math in my head. But now that I am wasting away I have increased my distance and now don't have to do the math. That will suck when I return to Canada- unless I bring a caddie with me (which many of them would be happy to do).

2) All of my pants do not fit. But, be not concerned, my friends. Fifi and Lasmi hooked me up with a wonderful little tailor. In fact, he is so good he makes house calls....on his bike....with a foot powered sewing machine like Oma had. After some saavy negotiations (by Fifi) I had the tailor taking all of my shorts in for $2 a pair. Highway (or back alley) robbery, I tell you! I know have a new wardrobe for about $15. Yay me.

Here are some of the interesting observations that I made, however. Mr. Bike entrepeneur measured my waste at 36 inches. He then proceeded to take 3 1/2 inches off all of my shorts (Yes, ladies, it not all about pounds. Size does matter). The strange thing is that my shorts were sold to me at the size of 34 inches! What, the fashion industry is dishonest? How could I be three inches smaller and still measure a 36? Hmmmm. So, essentially, I am a 30-32 inch waist, at home. Sorry Dad....Mom is not shrinking your clothes.