Nights in Koror: Cab-Driving Pimps, "Karaoke," Buai and Kabui

Palau's not known for it's nightlife, so here's a good strategy which might transcend Palau and apply to all of the lesser-visited nooks of the third world: hire a cabbie and start asking him questions, they can usually show you how to have a good time.

In Koror that cabbie should be Ninus A. Kai-Ichi.

Ninus was our first, and after a mis-guided stint with a few randoms including '#1 Lu' and 'James Bond,' during which we realized they're all more or less c-grade vice peddlers, our truest and last.

But it was fate at first that led us into Ninus' capable hands as the bellhop at the PPR hailed him to hump us into town. En route, Ninus, who can't stop the faucet of hilarious anecdotes delivered in a hard-to-pin accents, gives us the lowdown on Palau's various leisure-time activities.

'Massage parlors, all the Thai ladies left, now it’s Chinese massage parlors that will make you very happy.’

‘Happy endings’ my dad lamely quips.

‘No it’s not that kind of place,’ says Ninus, but those things can be obtained as well and he recommends the 'KTV' karaoke bars which are literally fronts for Chinese brothels.

In the afternoon, our first stop with Ninus is to get the betelnut set up: beletnuts or buai and leaves, kabui, and lyme, which can be had at seemingly any shop in Koror.

From there, you bite the buai in half, and place it taco-like in the kabui, sprinkle a little lyme powder on the exposed flesh of the nut and then wrap it up into a little packet which place between your molars and work over like cud. Once your saliva's glowing red like blood the betelnut magic is happening and pretty soon you'll be flushed with a buzz like your first experience with a serious amount of nicotine. Be wary of adding too much lyme, as my brother did, because it can burn the inside of your mouth.

Betelnut seems to be about as addictive as cigarettes. I didn't see folks in Palau smoking, but everyone chews betelnut most any chance they get. It's a proxy for tobacco, seemingly, and it wasn't uncommon for people to see my bag and try and bum a nut. Down the road, the habit gives your teeth nasty black stains.

After a quick betelnut we got massages from the the Chinese ladies (#s 5, 10 and 26 – like ordering Chinese food) who bongo our buttocks, massage our eyebrows and perform an ungodly ear routine consisting of individually horrible wet willies, ear stretches and claps that taken together is somehow wonderful.

Afterwards we dined at the Taj, which serves up solid southern Indian food, we had tandoori chicken, goa fish, roghan ghosh, cucumber raita, and aloo gobi – all strong and among the better restaurants in Koror.

Ninus greeted us in the parking lot and made his last pitch at swinging us by the KTV for a little late-night action. We declined and hit the sack by 9pm.

Palau Pacific Resort (PPR)

Of course I woke up after all of that at 4:30 in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep despite the fine bedding at the Palau Pacific Resort. So I put on my boardshorts and slipped out of the hotel room, leaving behind the loud, pungent humidity of my dad and brothers' syncopy of snores and farts for the still, floral humidity of the early tropical morning. Even in the dark of early morning, the air is thick and warm, tinged with a loamy smell you don't get back home. It's the first time I remember feeling clearly the difference of where I was.

The hotel grounds were dark, save for a few lighted paths connecting the various buildings, and around which a host of geckos and toads were congregated, still wrapping up their nightly feast of insects and fornication. 

Noting a faint light in the East, I padded out to the beach to look for a good place to watch the sunrise. There's a hill providing about 100' of relief above PPR's dock and beach. It's a quick climb up rocky path to a small shelter atop the hill, affording great views of the resort and surroundings. 

I hung for a bit and watched the light come up behind layers of clouds, before heading back down to stroll out the dock and get my look at the water we'd come so far to explore. 

To my surprise, among the expected host of nameless tropical fish, one of the first things I found was a group of four lion fish cruising boldly just off the dock. I had always wanted to see one of these guys and took this as a good omen of the days of diving ahead of us.

Palau is Far Away

I left San Francisco after work on Friday and rendezvoused with my dad and brother in Los Angeles [+1 Hour Flight]. We ate out in Hollywood at the 'it-boy' restaurant, Ketchup, and hit up the scene on Sunset before retreating to La Hacienda near LAX to get a little sleep before our 10am flight to Honolulu [+5.5 Hours Flight].

It was mid-afternoon when we landed in Honolulu and without much of a layover we boarded our plane to Guam, alongside a regiment of Guam native's who'd joined up the National Guard and we're heading back to Guam after training in California for eventual deployment in Afghanistan.

It's hard to think that after heading straight West from California for 5 and a half hours there could be a lot more Pacific ocean to cover. 

Its true vastness is hard to fathom.

Somewhere between Honolulu and Guam we crossed the confusing boundary of the International Dateline, wherein we inexplicably went from late afternoon Saturday to late afternoon Sunday.

A Lunestra and a $5 jolt of airplane cabernet later I woke up in Guam, in the future [+7.5 Hours Flight]. It was early evening, and our flight to Palau was delayed 3 hours.

It was around 11pm Sunday when we arrived in Palau [+2 Hours Flight], 16 hours of total flight time and effectively two days into our vacation, separated by 7,670 miles, 9 timezones and 1 calendar day from California.