Silly me! I thought my travel papers would be checked at the Wamena airport upon entry. Wed and Thurs, Feb. 27-28, 08
When no one asked, I figured no one cared. The police care! An Irish couple, who I sat with at breakfast, alerted me to the fact that I have 24 hours to report to the police station. Before going to Pyramid, I will need to check in with the local police-learning process.
The road to Pyramid is one continuous pothold. But, we arrive at the English school, a school devoted to teaching English. As I exit the vehicle and pay the driver, I complain at the way the driver has taken advantage of me. He leaves quickly. I see why, the Papuan students, all in the early 20s, are angry at him for charging me so fiercely. Win, one of the teachers, takes me in hand and we walk around the compound. I am surprised to find 2 story dwelling with fireplaces. Win must leave because today the Indo gov't has decided to inspect the school-some sort of accreditation. Jerri joins me. Lunch is missed, as we are out, but a rabbit stew and rice make up an early dinner. A drink of papaya, pineapple and other fruits accompany the meal. This is a missionary compound, architecture gives it away. There is a conference center with around 43 small rooms, dining room and church. On the large meeting hall is a sign-Alpine Lodge. That made me laugh. As they are able, the students approach me and talk, practicing their English. My lodging is #20, bathroom attached since it is the last room in a 5 room series. The students spend most of the afternoon with chores and soccer. At 6:00, it cools off dramatically. The wind has picked up, the sound of bugs, children playing, and the crying of a child trying to keep up with his mother, fill the air. Singing seems to be everywhere. It comes up in solo or group. This is village life. I had forgotten the sounds and smells. I had also forgotten how dark the night can be. Clouds have swept in, lightning flashes in the sw, now in the nw. Seated on the porch, my feet in the rain ditch, I hear children singing and feel the first drops of rain. Waiting for Win to call me for dinner, dark as the inside of my eyelids, flashes of lightning, the contentment emerges.
It is morning. I am again seated outside my room on the porch, feet in the rain ditch. The air has a chill. Dogs bark, the smell of a fire, 3 boys walk by with their sleeves dangling. They have pulled their arms in against their chests, for warmth and enter Alpine Lodge. Exiting a few minutes later they are giggling and laughing. One carries a radio, another a speaker, and the other a blue covering. There is going to be a meeting someplace. One boy passes gas and the giggling intensifies. The giggles get too much for the boy with the blue covering and it falls to the ground. They continue, after it has been retrieved, and disappear around the edge of the long line of guest room. The day has begun.
Now, back in Wamena, I have a flight to Holuwon. I will be there for 2 weeks. No contact. No way of emailing or talking with anyone except in Yali or Indonesian. My dictionary will come in handy.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Health
Monday, Feb. 25, 08
Before leaving on this walkabout, my health was a concern for me. Presently, I am in good health. There are some nagging issues, but not much concern. A cough and nasal congestion have come up within the past 2 days. Nothing much! My feet have been the most problem for me. I have blisters on the heels of both feet which are currently healing nicely. The two blisters I had from wearing my flip-flops are gone. Only a red skinned area to show where they were. Those were on the top of my toes, one on each foot. I presently have a blister, healing, on the bottom of my second toe, right foot. That has given me the most walking problem. Then, on the Kinabatangan River I picked up some fungus, athlete's foot, which is being treated and is steadily reducing in size. Otherwise, I haven't had any stomach ailments (plenty of wood to knock on around here).
Before leaving on this walkabout, my health was a concern for me. Presently, I am in good health. There are some nagging issues, but not much concern. A cough and nasal congestion have come up within the past 2 days. Nothing much! My feet have been the most problem for me. I have blisters on the heels of both feet which are currently healing nicely. The two blisters I had from wearing my flip-flops are gone. Only a red skinned area to show where they were. Those were on the top of my toes, one on each foot. I presently have a blister, healing, on the bottom of my second toe, right foot. That has given me the most walking problem. Then, on the Kinabatangan River I picked up some fungus, athlete's foot, which is being treated and is steadily reducing in size. Otherwise, I haven't had any stomach ailments (plenty of wood to knock on around here).
Life in Papua
Monday, Feb. 25, 08
Our internet connection has been off and on. Dial up is the best we have. Our problems range from no electricity to a dead phone line. At the moment, I am typing on a computer which has electrical power, AC is running, but the lights won't work. Since I wrote a few things on a piece of paper, and need to read them, I have a small flashlight in my mouth illuminating my writings. Yesterday, as we left Iain's office, he caught sight of something in the trash basket and pulls up a small gecko caught in the adhesive of an envelope flap. When the feet, tail, and legs can't be pulled free, Iain takes the gecko into the backroom and runs water on the stuck areas. Freed, the gecko is placed outside. Geckos are everywhere.
Things to keep in mind:
- Ice tea is hot tea with some ice. It never makes it past cool.
- Betelnut is chewed as a stimulant and leaves the mouth red. It is so acidic that continued use will burn off tooth enamel. The red spit is on every roadway and walkway.
- Getting around is by taksi (mini-bus) or an Ojek (motorbike). Sitting on the back can be precarious. Sudden stops and starts put a jerk into the ride - dangerous in traffic.
- Stairs are not uniform. they vary in heighth and depth - watch your step.
- Ordinarily in restaurants, a menu and piece of paper are supplied to write your request. This is handed to the server.
- American Special Forces have trained special Indo units which are terrorizing and killing Papuans. Here I make the distinction between Indos and Papuans. In their own country, they have become second class citizens. No word of such tragedies is allow out. No journalists are allowed in. A certain US Representative arrived to investigate the disturbing reports. He was allowed 3 hours in Jayapura, not allowed to speak with anyone, and left in a huff. I can say no more on this subject - not our finest hour.
Today is a visit to the police station to obtain a pass into the interior. After three tries, not here, there, no there, no there, we arrive 30 minutes later at the Department of Travel. The controller asks me for a pen, he has none. Thankfully, I get it back. Although, it would have been a simple "gift". I help translate for a French man who is struggling with his English. Wait! Wait! Questions of how long do we want to stay and how long they will permit. Wait! Wait! 20000 rp ($2) are requested. Shake hands all around and say Terima Kasih (Thank you) and the deed is done. Tomorrow, I'm allowed into Wamena and environs till March 18.
Our internet connection has been off and on. Dial up is the best we have. Our problems range from no electricity to a dead phone line. At the moment, I am typing on a computer which has electrical power, AC is running, but the lights won't work. Since I wrote a few things on a piece of paper, and need to read them, I have a small flashlight in my mouth illuminating my writings. Yesterday, as we left Iain's office, he caught sight of something in the trash basket and pulls up a small gecko caught in the adhesive of an envelope flap. When the feet, tail, and legs can't be pulled free, Iain takes the gecko into the backroom and runs water on the stuck areas. Freed, the gecko is placed outside. Geckos are everywhere.
Things to keep in mind:
- Ice tea is hot tea with some ice. It never makes it past cool.
- Betelnut is chewed as a stimulant and leaves the mouth red. It is so acidic that continued use will burn off tooth enamel. The red spit is on every roadway and walkway.
- Getting around is by taksi (mini-bus) or an Ojek (motorbike). Sitting on the back can be precarious. Sudden stops and starts put a jerk into the ride - dangerous in traffic.
- Stairs are not uniform. they vary in heighth and depth - watch your step.
- Ordinarily in restaurants, a menu and piece of paper are supplied to write your request. This is handed to the server.
- American Special Forces have trained special Indo units which are terrorizing and killing Papuans. Here I make the distinction between Indos and Papuans. In their own country, they have become second class citizens. No word of such tragedies is allow out. No journalists are allowed in. A certain US Representative arrived to investigate the disturbing reports. He was allowed 3 hours in Jayapura, not allowed to speak with anyone, and left in a huff. I can say no more on this subject - not our finest hour.
Today is a visit to the police station to obtain a pass into the interior. After three tries, not here, there, no there, no there, we arrive 30 minutes later at the Department of Travel. The controller asks me for a pen, he has none. Thankfully, I get it back. Although, it would have been a simple "gift". I help translate for a French man who is struggling with his English. Wait! Wait! Questions of how long do we want to stay and how long they will permit. Wait! Wait! 20000 rp ($2) are requested. Shake hands all around and say Terima Kasih (Thank you) and the deed is done. Tomorrow, I'm allowed into Wamena and environs till March 18.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sentani Lake
Papua has many of the same feelings as I remember from growing up years in Congo. There is a friendliness, a genuine laughter, joking, and acceptance that is not found in advanced cultures. At least, not as often. Here, I also see a difference between the Indonesian population which has come to the island and the Papuans. Papuans take life at a slower pace.
Up to now, I have not encountered a missionary presence. That is, up to now! Here, I have been surrounded by their presence. There is much more that can be said, but it will wait for a later date. I will comment, at some point.
Iain and I are occupying the days with so many good things. How does one tell of experiences which are so full? Every minute is filled with new things. There is at time a sensory overload of feeling.
Although I have come with 28 passport photos, the Indonesian government requires a red background. 8 new photos have been taken. Tomorrow, I plan to visit the police station to obtain a pass into the interior - Wamena. From Wamena I will travel to Pyramid and then to Holuwon. Soleman, who comes from Holuwon, is returning home for a brief visit with his mother who is ill, and I will accompany him. I will be in this very remote setting for approximately 2 weeks and will be the only foreigner. Soleman's guidance will be valued.
New photos: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/musungi/SentaniLake
Up to now, I have not encountered a missionary presence. That is, up to now! Here, I have been surrounded by their presence. There is much more that can be said, but it will wait for a later date. I will comment, at some point.
Iain and I are occupying the days with so many good things. How does one tell of experiences which are so full? Every minute is filled with new things. There is at time a sensory overload of feeling.
Although I have come with 28 passport photos, the Indonesian government requires a red background. 8 new photos have been taken. Tomorrow, I plan to visit the police station to obtain a pass into the interior - Wamena. From Wamena I will travel to Pyramid and then to Holuwon. Soleman, who comes from Holuwon, is returning home for a brief visit with his mother who is ill, and I will accompany him. I will be in this very remote setting for approximately 2 weeks and will be the only foreigner. Soleman's guidance will be valued.
New photos: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/musungi/SentaniLake
Sentani/Jayapura, Papua
All is well. There has been so much to do. Iain and I have been visiting the area around the city of Sentani and have taken many photos. Sentani and Jayapura are cities in close proximity. These photos can be visited at:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/musungi/SISSentaniInternationalSchoolPapua
Tomorrow, I promise, there will be more explanation. On Tuesday, I have purchased a flight to Wamena. From there I will be traveling to outlying areas.
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/musungi/SISSentaniInternationalSchoolPapua
Tomorrow, I promise, there will be more explanation. On Tuesday, I have purchased a flight to Wamena. From there I will be traveling to outlying areas.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
T5 gate - Kuala Lumpur
Thursday, Feb. 21, 08
The morning starts with me on the sidewalk waiting for a cab to the Sandakan airport. My glasses are fogging from the humidity. Hell comes here for lessons in heat development. All goes well and I find myself in Kuala Lumpur airport with several hours to wait. It gives me time for a coffee and some soup. In the waiting room, at T5 gate, I pull out my camera to grab a photo of a 4 year old girl who is next to me at her gradmother's knee. The little girl runs away as I point the camera. Her mother, across the aisle, and her grandmother sitting next to me, are laughing at the shyness of this tot. Over the minutes, she warms up to me and I take some wonderful shots. The mother comes to sit on the other side of me -I'm surrounded. The mother motions that the little girl is deaf. The Jakarta call is heard and I step into line to board my Air Asia flight. As I pass the group, I hear the two adults calling me. I look over to see the little girl signing to me. She signs, "I love you." Thrilled beyond description, I place my hand to my heart and sign back to her. All the way out the gate and past where she sees me walk, she is signing to me. Such innocence is its own reward. I will always have a special feeling for a little girl at T5 gate.
The morning starts with me on the sidewalk waiting for a cab to the Sandakan airport. My glasses are fogging from the humidity. Hell comes here for lessons in heat development. All goes well and I find myself in Kuala Lumpur airport with several hours to wait. It gives me time for a coffee and some soup. In the waiting room, at T5 gate, I pull out my camera to grab a photo of a 4 year old girl who is next to me at her gradmother's knee. The little girl runs away as I point the camera. Her mother, across the aisle, and her grandmother sitting next to me, are laughing at the shyness of this tot. Over the minutes, she warms up to me and I take some wonderful shots. The mother comes to sit on the other side of me -I'm surrounded. The mother motions that the little girl is deaf. The Jakarta call is heard and I step into line to board my Air Asia flight. As I pass the group, I hear the two adults calling me. I look over to see the little girl signing to me. She signs, "I love you." Thrilled beyond description, I place my hand to my heart and sign back to her. All the way out the gate and past where she sees me walk, she is signing to me. Such innocence is its own reward. I will always have a special feeling for a little girl at T5 gate.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Sandakan
There has been too little time for Sandakan. I need to return, someday. The history of this place is expansive, along with the opportunities for snorkeling, diving, turtle watching, and as a gateway to much more. The Philippines are not far. Malaysian patrol boats plough the seas keeping us safe. Sandakan is the economic capital of Borneo. In the harbor are around 15 freighters. Here, in WWII, was a Japanese prisoner of war camp. The internet will give you what you need to know about that. At the time of surrender, there were only 6 Aussie prisoners left alive from the thousands of British and Aussie soldiers kept here. They were starved, marched, and worked to death. The Japanese prison officers were tried and punished on Labuan Island following the war. There are several book from pre-war and war times, written by Agnes Newton Keith, who lived through those times, which I want to investigate further.
Otherwise, today is a travel day with an arrival in Jayapura, Papua, tomorrow morning at 6:40. Iain and I have been in communication, so hopefully I will be there when he is. My flights take me to KL, Jakarta (again), Macassar, Biak, and into Jayapura.
Otherwise, today is a travel day with an arrival in Jayapura, Papua, tomorrow morning at 6:40. Iain and I have been in communication, so hopefully I will be there when he is. My flights take me to KL, Jakarta (again), Macassar, Biak, and into Jayapura.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Kinabatangan River
Wednesday, Feb. 20, 08
On every bus there are two key people, the driver and the monitor. The monitor collects payment, keeps track of people's needs, and indicates the correct stop. That stop comes for me after 6 hours out of KK, road side where I am picked up by a mini van and transported to the village of Bilit. A short crossing of the river, 300 ft. wide, and I am ushered to my lodging by a portly man. First comes an evening cruise. Present are two French couples and their 5 children, Patrick, a 56 year old man, and me. Here are some of the birds and monkeys we saw that evening - Oriental Pied Hornbill, Lesser Fish-Eagle, Pacific Swallow, Great Egret, Little Egret, Oriental Darter/Snake Bird, Stork Billed Kingfisher, Black Hornbill, Long Tailed Macaque, Flying Fox, and the Silver Langgur. In the evening we take an hour walk into the jungle. Fearless Luis picks up a 3" scorpion. Anyone want to handle it? No takers! Onward through leech infested marshes, which is the rainforest. Most of us return with at least one leech attached, I have one. When a leech attaches, spray it with some repellant and flick it off. If it has stayed a while, you will find a red spot, 1/2" in diameter which continues bleeding. No disease is transferred. One of the ways they detect us is through carbon dioxide, and also the smell of blood.
The next morning we head into the jungle, boots are supplied for each of these treks. This is mostly secondary jungle, some primary, which means it has been logged. This logging took place around 50 years ago and still there is evidence that the jungle has not recovered. In fact, a jungle can dry out and compact leaving it vulnerable to dying off. Leeches are a constant menace. Every several few minutes we individually stop to check ourselves. Our order changes depending on who is flicking. A highlight is a small 2" squirrel which comes to within several feet of us. Touching plants indiscriminately is cautioned against. There is poison ivy present. If it is in a tree, rain can drip it's poison on you. Returning, I remove my clothing for a shower. 5 leeches have attached themselves to me undetected. Following the flicking of one, I bleed for 10 minutes. The French families eat together. Their children aged 2-10 are good sports. The couples do as much as then can and then keep the children in camp as they take turns going on the activities. There is reforestation of the heaviest logged areas where bushes and grasses have returned. A tree can be purchased and planted in your name. A corrider of life has been established along the river for the pygmy elephants. But, this jungle is disappearing to the palm oil companies and loggers.
Another evening cruise puts us face to face with a herd of 30-40 elephants. The young are encircled by the mothers as they continue chomping. Later, we find another grouping, around 15 this time. What a treat.
This morning is another cruise and a 1 1/2 hour drive to Sandakan. I have decided to not go to Sepilok, the orangutan rehabilitation center. It appears it is much like a zoo.
How long will such jungle last? 10 or 15 years? Not much more, unless some pressure can be brought.
On every bus there are two key people, the driver and the monitor. The monitor collects payment, keeps track of people's needs, and indicates the correct stop. That stop comes for me after 6 hours out of KK, road side where I am picked up by a mini van and transported to the village of Bilit. A short crossing of the river, 300 ft. wide, and I am ushered to my lodging by a portly man. First comes an evening cruise. Present are two French couples and their 5 children, Patrick, a 56 year old man, and me. Here are some of the birds and monkeys we saw that evening - Oriental Pied Hornbill, Lesser Fish-Eagle, Pacific Swallow, Great Egret, Little Egret, Oriental Darter/Snake Bird, Stork Billed Kingfisher, Black Hornbill, Long Tailed Macaque, Flying Fox, and the Silver Langgur. In the evening we take an hour walk into the jungle. Fearless Luis picks up a 3" scorpion. Anyone want to handle it? No takers! Onward through leech infested marshes, which is the rainforest. Most of us return with at least one leech attached, I have one. When a leech attaches, spray it with some repellant and flick it off. If it has stayed a while, you will find a red spot, 1/2" in diameter which continues bleeding. No disease is transferred. One of the ways they detect us is through carbon dioxide, and also the smell of blood.
The next morning we head into the jungle, boots are supplied for each of these treks. This is mostly secondary jungle, some primary, which means it has been logged. This logging took place around 50 years ago and still there is evidence that the jungle has not recovered. In fact, a jungle can dry out and compact leaving it vulnerable to dying off. Leeches are a constant menace. Every several few minutes we individually stop to check ourselves. Our order changes depending on who is flicking. A highlight is a small 2" squirrel which comes to within several feet of us. Touching plants indiscriminately is cautioned against. There is poison ivy present. If it is in a tree, rain can drip it's poison on you. Returning, I remove my clothing for a shower. 5 leeches have attached themselves to me undetected. Following the flicking of one, I bleed for 10 minutes. The French families eat together. Their children aged 2-10 are good sports. The couples do as much as then can and then keep the children in camp as they take turns going on the activities. There is reforestation of the heaviest logged areas where bushes and grasses have returned. A tree can be purchased and planted in your name. A corrider of life has been established along the river for the pygmy elephants. But, this jungle is disappearing to the palm oil companies and loggers.
Another evening cruise puts us face to face with a herd of 30-40 elephants. The young are encircled by the mothers as they continue chomping. Later, we find another grouping, around 15 this time. What a treat.
This morning is another cruise and a 1 1/2 hour drive to Sandakan. I have decided to not go to Sepilok, the orangutan rehabilitation center. It appears it is much like a zoo.
How long will such jungle last? 10 or 15 years? Not much more, unless some pressure can be brought.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
More Pictures, Soon + The Beach Lodge
Sunday, Feb. 17, 08
I have solicited Csanad's help in uploading pictures to either this blog or my Picasa site. I have also been added to Facebook.
The hotel is called "The Beach Lodge". What a name for a fourth story private home. At the entrance is a sliding metal door with a lock. Down a short hall, where foot wear is shed, is a room which contains, sitting room, computer in the corner, reception desk, two couches and TV, two bathrooms which are equipped with hot water, and a laundry room. The hot shower has been the best part of this place. There are 6 rooms down a hall. Three are occupied by the family, the others are rented out. Csanad, Paul, and I sleep in a room with a bunk bed and a double bed. We play rock, scissors, paper, to see who gets the double bed - Paul. I'm on the bottom of the bunk bed. Yet, it is in the middle of town. KK is not very large, so everything is close. Every Sunday there is a market, one block away, and we find breakfast-papaya, peanuts, guava, dragon fruit, and tangarines. Then we separate. Csanad is still hunting for a size 11 shoe to climb Mt. Kinabalu. Good luck! Paul goes to the mall. I come in for a rest and to check the internet. Tomorrow, I will be up early for a 6 hour bus ride to where I join those who are taking a "safari" along the Katabatangan River. From there, I will be taken to Sepilok and on to Sandakan. If I can't find an internet site, that's where I will be for the next 3 days.
I have solicited Csanad's help in uploading pictures to either this blog or my Picasa site. I have also been added to Facebook.
The hotel is called "The Beach Lodge". What a name for a fourth story private home. At the entrance is a sliding metal door with a lock. Down a short hall, where foot wear is shed, is a room which contains, sitting room, computer in the corner, reception desk, two couches and TV, two bathrooms which are equipped with hot water, and a laundry room. The hot shower has been the best part of this place. There are 6 rooms down a hall. Three are occupied by the family, the others are rented out. Csanad, Paul, and I sleep in a room with a bunk bed and a double bed. We play rock, scissors, paper, to see who gets the double bed - Paul. I'm on the bottom of the bunk bed. Yet, it is in the middle of town. KK is not very large, so everything is close. Every Sunday there is a market, one block away, and we find breakfast-papaya, peanuts, guava, dragon fruit, and tangarines. Then we separate. Csanad is still hunting for a size 11 shoe to climb Mt. Kinabalu. Good luck! Paul goes to the mall. I come in for a rest and to check the internet. Tomorrow, I will be up early for a 6 hour bus ride to where I join those who are taking a "safari" along the Katabatangan River. From there, I will be taken to Sepilok and on to Sandakan. If I can't find an internet site, that's where I will be for the next 3 days.
Kota Kinabalu
Sat, Feb. 16, 08
In medium rain, we leave the hostel in BSB. There are six of us traveling together-2 Morroccans (Adam, Omar), one Japanese man (Naji), and the three of us (Chanad, Paul and me). Paul has no protection against the rain, so I hand him my umbrella. I have a light weight jacket and my wide brimmed Tilly hat. Muara, the port, is 45 minutes by bus B$2 (2 Brunei dollars equal to about $1.50). The rain is washing mud onto the road. Gushing water flows swiftly through a wide drainage system along the roadway. We are dropped at the ferry terminal and I am granted a Senior ticket. Senior! I feel insulted for a moment then happily accept the half price ticket (B$7.50). Breakfast is several bananas, an orange, and some cashews. The ferry is a 50 passenger enclosed vessel which should rock us to Labuan Island. There is a strong smell of moth balls. One hour later we are on Labuan Island, part of Malaysia. Since the ferry left late, we have missed our ride to KK (Kota Kinabalu) and will have to wait for the 1:00 ferry. The Chinese dragons are out bringing blessing and good new year to everyone, especially the shop owners which have contributed a small sum to be included in the blessing. Malaysia is distinguished from Brunei by the motorbikes and casualness of the people. Brunei is an ordered and strict society. This one suits me better. In Brunei there are "No Spitting" signs. In Malaysia you can spit and burp at will.
Finding something to eat, we wait for the ferry to depart. Now on a 2 deck ferry, we ride 1st class for 3 ringgit more than economy class. For that we get a better view, and later will regret the swaying of the "better view". The total price is 39 ringgit ($1=3.5 ringgit). Labuan has been cooler because of the sea breezes. The rain stopped half through the first ferry ride but now has picked back up.
The rain brings heavy seas. At the 2 hour mark the rain increases and so does the rolling. The bow is airborne and slaps the waves as it descends. Sick people are all around. Poor people! I look over and see Chanad taking pictures of the heavy seas and having a snack. That gives me some courage. I watch the horizon intently, keeping a watch on my breathing. I change the poem "If" to read, "If you can keep your lunch when all around..." The sea birds are swooping low over the surface and soaring to catch better vision. 2 1/2 hours into the ride the seas calm slightly. Hope returns. Land reappears and we are in sight of the city, Kota Kinabalu. The 3 hour ordeal has us waiting at the ferry terminal for a let up in the weather so we can walk into town and find lodging. Someone says, "I'm excited!" Yet, we all agree that this doesn't have to be experienced more than once in a lifetime. The city has a good feeling to it. I like KK. Here we are in a backpacker hotel which has hot showers, AC and fan, and breakfast all for 20 ringgit, around $6, and a towel. Tomorrow will be a day of looking around the city, catching up on sleep, and visiting nearby sites.
In medium rain, we leave the hostel in BSB. There are six of us traveling together-2 Morroccans (Adam, Omar), one Japanese man (Naji), and the three of us (Chanad, Paul and me). Paul has no protection against the rain, so I hand him my umbrella. I have a light weight jacket and my wide brimmed Tilly hat. Muara, the port, is 45 minutes by bus B$2 (2 Brunei dollars equal to about $1.50). The rain is washing mud onto the road. Gushing water flows swiftly through a wide drainage system along the roadway. We are dropped at the ferry terminal and I am granted a Senior ticket. Senior! I feel insulted for a moment then happily accept the half price ticket (B$7.50). Breakfast is several bananas, an orange, and some cashews. The ferry is a 50 passenger enclosed vessel which should rock us to Labuan Island. There is a strong smell of moth balls. One hour later we are on Labuan Island, part of Malaysia. Since the ferry left late, we have missed our ride to KK (Kota Kinabalu) and will have to wait for the 1:00 ferry. The Chinese dragons are out bringing blessing and good new year to everyone, especially the shop owners which have contributed a small sum to be included in the blessing. Malaysia is distinguished from Brunei by the motorbikes and casualness of the people. Brunei is an ordered and strict society. This one suits me better. In Brunei there are "No Spitting" signs. In Malaysia you can spit and burp at will.
Finding something to eat, we wait for the ferry to depart. Now on a 2 deck ferry, we ride 1st class for 3 ringgit more than economy class. For that we get a better view, and later will regret the swaying of the "better view". The total price is 39 ringgit ($1=3.5 ringgit). Labuan has been cooler because of the sea breezes. The rain stopped half through the first ferry ride but now has picked back up.
The rain brings heavy seas. At the 2 hour mark the rain increases and so does the rolling. The bow is airborne and slaps the waves as it descends. Sick people are all around. Poor people! I look over and see Chanad taking pictures of the heavy seas and having a snack. That gives me some courage. I watch the horizon intently, keeping a watch on my breathing. I change the poem "If" to read, "If you can keep your lunch when all around..." The sea birds are swooping low over the surface and soaring to catch better vision. 2 1/2 hours into the ride the seas calm slightly. Hope returns. Land reappears and we are in sight of the city, Kota Kinabalu. The 3 hour ordeal has us waiting at the ferry terminal for a let up in the weather so we can walk into town and find lodging. Someone says, "I'm excited!" Yet, we all agree that this doesn't have to be experienced more than once in a lifetime. The city has a good feeling to it. I like KK. Here we are in a backpacker hotel which has hot showers, AC and fan, and breakfast all for 20 ringgit, around $6, and a towel. Tomorrow will be a day of looking around the city, catching up on sleep, and visiting nearby sites.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Brunei At A Glance
The people are friendly, not as pushy as in Indo. The state, controlled by the Sultan, controls everything. All citizens, only Brunei can become citizens and own property, have free health care, free education, and no taxation. For this, they give their loyalty and devotion to the Sultan. If there is fraud, as bribery, theoretically anyway, the one caught forfeits everything. All this works in theory since not long ago the brother of the sultan, who was the finance minister, was removed from office for inappropriate behavior. This brother has 2000 cars, of which 600 are Ferraris. The Sultan removed his brother from office and sold several of his Ferraris to balance some of the discrepancy. That said, the brother, who will remain un-named by me, still lives as if he still owns the world, which he probably does, at least the family does. I have never felt unsafe here. No one would knock me over the head to rile through my pockets. Yet, there could be a breaking into the room. I carry my passport, money, and camera with me. The rest is dispendable. No one wants my clothes or toiletries. That is a guarantee. Plus, we are almost always walking around in groups. Backpackers stick together. Like any group, we look out for each other.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Bandar Seri Begawan
Friday, Feb.15
Arriving at the Brunei airport, I see two Caucasian young men collecting their backpacks. Ah, backpackers. Paul is Aussie from Perth. Csanad (Cs is pronounced CH) is Hungarian. Csanad has earlier contacted an Indian man who finds us and takes us to the Youth Hostel. We arrive at the hostel late, 9:30, check in, and leave for something to eat at an open market. We are bunking together, sharing our days, and will travel together to Kota Kinabalu in several days. The following day, we are joined, during our Brunei stay, by Anna, from my time in Sumatra, and another Aussie, Jade, from Brisbane, and Mandy from the UK. Thursday, we take a water taxi out into the jungle to see proboscis monkeys, then back to have a bite to eat in the water village (this is where most of the Brunei have homes on stilts over the water), again a bite, in the evening, at an open market, and a walk through a 6 star hotel. Earlier in the day, we visited the Brunei Museum. Abdul, a Brunei, has been very helpful in instructing us on how to make the trip to KK. He has acted as our guide for the day. Care will be taken through this section of the trip.
Brunei is controled by the 29th Sultan, and control is the correct word. There is no democracy here. Laws are Sharia laws. I believe that's what it's called. There is little room for individualism. It is clean, except in the water village and on the river. There is little concern, as in most of SE Asia, to disposal of plastic. Plastic is everywhere. Every little purchase is carried away in plastic. Packaging will be a tremendous dilemna for the future. Today, Friday, is a day of rest and catching up on the internet and walking around. This internet site is not equipped for transfering pictures. Maybe, I'll find a better location this afternoon.
On a health note, I've been waiting to see how long till I get what is commonly referred to as "Bali Belly". I don't think I need to interpret that one. So far, so good.
Arriving at the Brunei airport, I see two Caucasian young men collecting their backpacks. Ah, backpackers. Paul is Aussie from Perth. Csanad (Cs is pronounced CH) is Hungarian. Csanad has earlier contacted an Indian man who finds us and takes us to the Youth Hostel. We arrive at the hostel late, 9:30, check in, and leave for something to eat at an open market. We are bunking together, sharing our days, and will travel together to Kota Kinabalu in several days. The following day, we are joined, during our Brunei stay, by Anna, from my time in Sumatra, and another Aussie, Jade, from Brisbane, and Mandy from the UK. Thursday, we take a water taxi out into the jungle to see proboscis monkeys, then back to have a bite to eat in the water village (this is where most of the Brunei have homes on stilts over the water), again a bite, in the evening, at an open market, and a walk through a 6 star hotel. Earlier in the day, we visited the Brunei Museum. Abdul, a Brunei, has been very helpful in instructing us on how to make the trip to KK. He has acted as our guide for the day. Care will be taken through this section of the trip.
Brunei is controled by the 29th Sultan, and control is the correct word. There is no democracy here. Laws are Sharia laws. I believe that's what it's called. There is little room for individualism. It is clean, except in the water village and on the river. There is little concern, as in most of SE Asia, to disposal of plastic. Plastic is everywhere. Every little purchase is carried away in plastic. Packaging will be a tremendous dilemna for the future. Today, Friday, is a day of rest and catching up on the internet and walking around. This internet site is not equipped for transfering pictures. Maybe, I'll find a better location this afternoon.
On a health note, I've been waiting to see how long till I get what is commonly referred to as "Bali Belly". I don't think I need to interpret that one. So far, so good.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Travel Day
Wednesday, Feb. 13
This is a travel day. First to the Palembang airport at 10:30, to catch a flight at 12:45, headed to Kuala Lumpur. There I transit to a flight into Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei. Yes, the names seem to get more and more difficult. My next flight, Feb. 21, is from Sandakan, Sabah, East Malaysia. During the interval, I will travel to Lebuan island and on to Kota Kinabalu. There I hope to take a trek into the jungle to see orangutan in the wild. As any wild animals, they may or may not appear. Just outside of Sandakan, there is an orangutan rehabilitation center in Sepilot. I hope to find someone to tag along with. Many of the hotels are dorm rooms, which I haven't yet experienced during this trip. How do I secure my backpack during the day? I am not the first one to have asked these questions. Off to the next adventure.
This is a travel day. First to the Palembang airport at 10:30, to catch a flight at 12:45, headed to Kuala Lumpur. There I transit to a flight into Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei. Yes, the names seem to get more and more difficult. My next flight, Feb. 21, is from Sandakan, Sabah, East Malaysia. During the interval, I will travel to Lebuan island and on to Kota Kinabalu. There I hope to take a trek into the jungle to see orangutan in the wild. As any wild animals, they may or may not appear. Just outside of Sandakan, there is an orangutan rehabilitation center in Sepilot. I hope to find someone to tag along with. Many of the hotels are dorm rooms, which I haven't yet experienced during this trip. How do I secure my backpack during the day? I am not the first one to have asked these questions. Off to the next adventure.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Camera - Fujifilm
Monday Evening - Feb. 11
Calling Doug Sunda from the hotel, I gather info about camera shopping. The price is the price-no negotiating. That determined I walk to the mall and find the first camera store. I am in search of a camera which will use my XD memory card, a 2 GB card which cost me dearly Stateside and I'm not willing to give it up. This store has no cameras which use the XD card. OK, where? Upstairs! This transaction, as well as any I'm about to relate, happens with pointing and expressions, only. Words don't work! Communication happens on many levels. On the 3rd floor I find another shop being serviced by 3 young Indo women. This will be tricky! Showing my XD card, I finally get them to think camera rather than another XD card. Now we're on the right track. They only have one brand of camera, Fujifilm, which takes the XD. I choose the Fujifilm, 8.3 Mega Pixels, 3X zoom and ask how much - $150. It is battery run, 2AA, and isn't what my Olympus was, but it will do. (I will apologize to my Olympus for my carelessness when I return to my room.) Then comes the fun of filling out the registration form. That transaction never happens. Neither one of us can communicate enough to get it done. They want a phone #. I have none. Next, next, and next, nothing works. Finally, one young lady calls her boss. He tells her to forget it. That suits me fine. We shake hands all around, and I leave. And it has a chord to transfer pictures. This time I pay specific attention to that detail.
Calling Doug Sunda from the hotel, I gather info about camera shopping. The price is the price-no negotiating. That determined I walk to the mall and find the first camera store. I am in search of a camera which will use my XD memory card, a 2 GB card which cost me dearly Stateside and I'm not willing to give it up. This store has no cameras which use the XD card. OK, where? Upstairs! This transaction, as well as any I'm about to relate, happens with pointing and expressions, only. Words don't work! Communication happens on many levels. On the 3rd floor I find another shop being serviced by 3 young Indo women. This will be tricky! Showing my XD card, I finally get them to think camera rather than another XD card. Now we're on the right track. They only have one brand of camera, Fujifilm, which takes the XD. I choose the Fujifilm, 8.3 Mega Pixels, 3X zoom and ask how much - $150. It is battery run, 2AA, and isn't what my Olympus was, but it will do. (I will apologize to my Olympus for my carelessness when I return to my room.) Then comes the fun of filling out the registration form. That transaction never happens. Neither one of us can communicate enough to get it done. They want a phone #. I have none. Next, next, and next, nothing works. Finally, one young lady calls her boss. He tells her to forget it. That suits me fine. We shake hands all around, and I leave. And it has a chord to transfer pictures. This time I pay specific attention to that detail.
Palembang, again
Monday, Feb. 11.
Medan to Jakarta and on to Palembang. Big news when I landed in Jakarta, this is the third time through that airport, the Palembang football team was excitedly holding the trophy they won last night. Cameras were out, poses taken, and the team boarded the plane with me for the ride home. They won the Indo cup beating Medan 3-1. Being last night in Medan, I heard a different version of the game than I'm sure to hear on this end. My taxi ride took 3 times as long from the airport to the hotel since the streets were lined with all sorts of onlookers; motorbikes, school kids and more. Everyone wants to scream their love of the team. I have some shopping here in Palembang. A new camera is my first priority, along with getting my cell phone to work properly. Off for a shower.
Medan to Jakarta and on to Palembang. Big news when I landed in Jakarta, this is the third time through that airport, the Palembang football team was excitedly holding the trophy they won last night. Cameras were out, poses taken, and the team boarded the plane with me for the ride home. They won the Indo cup beating Medan 3-1. Being last night in Medan, I heard a different version of the game than I'm sure to hear on this end. My taxi ride took 3 times as long from the airport to the hotel since the streets were lined with all sorts of onlookers; motorbikes, school kids and more. Everyone wants to scream their love of the team. I have some shopping here in Palembang. A new camera is my first priority, along with getting my cell phone to work properly. Off for a shower.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Domino boy
Sunday afternoon
I am sitting in a tightly packed, 4 table gathering of men who are playing dominos. My room has more mosquitoes than I can handle, so I will need to smear on the repellant before bed. Strolling along, I come upon these men. The game is played as we play it but as you play your domino you slap it hard on the table and slide or throw it into place with an air of intimidation. Close is good enough. Being hungry, I order a soup which has noodles, an egg, and vegetables. A 2 1/2 year old boy is learning about the game from his father and slaps the domino down hard. There is no recognition of numbers but that isn't important. Darkest black eyes in the world, his front teeth are half rotted out. Teasing seems to be a part of life here. An elderly man is aggravating the boy with flicks of his hair, pulling on his penis, touching his arm, pulling down his pants when he stands. Finally, the boy yells at him and everyone laughs, except the boy. He scowls, attempting to concentrate on his game. A strong cup of sugar coffee wakes me. Others are drinking milk tea, coke, sprite, and others unknown to me. The little boy tires and curls up on a cabinet on the outer edge of the enclosure. On the cabinet are 2 bicycle tires and tubes. A man arrives with his small glass case of cigarettes which he selling either as a pack for 10000 ($1) or by the piece for 600 (6 cents). I hope my math is correct. He sits next to me and I ask him for a piece of paper from his cahier where he keeps track of his sales and buy him a tea drink for his bother. No bother! He is thrilled to be practicing English. We speak about the same amount of each other's language. I make a motion in the air, my left hand coming to the right and my right hand going to the left, missing each other. He laughs and gets the meaning. Sometimes, we understand and I make a motion of touching fingers. Again, laughter. This enclosure is a makeshift 12X15 plastic covering. On the one end is the kitchen where a woman is cooking over a small flame. Her work is sporadic since there isn't much going on except a few drinks. There are 2 domino games in progress, 4 players/game. The little boy is shifted to a better position by his mother, the cook. Now 3 games are in progress. 17 of us crowd this small enclosure and quickly become 21. Along the street come several groups of Batak young people dressed in black, jeans, t-shirts, studded jackets. Some sport Mohawks. I ask about them but no one can add much. I wish I knew why they are dressed and coiffed as they are. A scooter pulls up with a side car which has been coverted into a flat surface to carry boxes or whatever. The ingenuity and adaptiveness is fun to watch. A motorbike pulls up and I notice an air compressor under a covering along the street. Also, I notice a few more tires and tubes. 1 minute later the motorbike is gone with a few rp exchanging hands. Then it fits, the tires and tubes, and air compressor make this place a "garage". One of the men sits with his shirt pulled up under his armpits. He's as hot as I am. But, a breeze picks up, the shirt comes down. I've been here for 4 1/2 hours and need a nap. Before I leave, I settle my bill; soup, one water, 2 coffees, 2 teas for the cigarette man comes to $1.80. I give her a 20000 ($2) bill and refuse the change. Hand shakes and good-byes all around. I'm tired from doing nothing!
I am sitting in a tightly packed, 4 table gathering of men who are playing dominos. My room has more mosquitoes than I can handle, so I will need to smear on the repellant before bed. Strolling along, I come upon these men. The game is played as we play it but as you play your domino you slap it hard on the table and slide or throw it into place with an air of intimidation. Close is good enough. Being hungry, I order a soup which has noodles, an egg, and vegetables. A 2 1/2 year old boy is learning about the game from his father and slaps the domino down hard. There is no recognition of numbers but that isn't important. Darkest black eyes in the world, his front teeth are half rotted out. Teasing seems to be a part of life here. An elderly man is aggravating the boy with flicks of his hair, pulling on his penis, touching his arm, pulling down his pants when he stands. Finally, the boy yells at him and everyone laughs, except the boy. He scowls, attempting to concentrate on his game. A strong cup of sugar coffee wakes me. Others are drinking milk tea, coke, sprite, and others unknown to me. The little boy tires and curls up on a cabinet on the outer edge of the enclosure. On the cabinet are 2 bicycle tires and tubes. A man arrives with his small glass case of cigarettes which he selling either as a pack for 10000 ($1) or by the piece for 600 (6 cents). I hope my math is correct. He sits next to me and I ask him for a piece of paper from his cahier where he keeps track of his sales and buy him a tea drink for his bother. No bother! He is thrilled to be practicing English. We speak about the same amount of each other's language. I make a motion in the air, my left hand coming to the right and my right hand going to the left, missing each other. He laughs and gets the meaning. Sometimes, we understand and I make a motion of touching fingers. Again, laughter. This enclosure is a makeshift 12X15 plastic covering. On the one end is the kitchen where a woman is cooking over a small flame. Her work is sporadic since there isn't much going on except a few drinks. There are 2 domino games in progress, 4 players/game. The little boy is shifted to a better position by his mother, the cook. Now 3 games are in progress. 17 of us crowd this small enclosure and quickly become 21. Along the street come several groups of Batak young people dressed in black, jeans, t-shirts, studded jackets. Some sport Mohawks. I ask about them but no one can add much. I wish I knew why they are dressed and coiffed as they are. A scooter pulls up with a side car which has been coverted into a flat surface to carry boxes or whatever. The ingenuity and adaptiveness is fun to watch. A motorbike pulls up and I notice an air compressor under a covering along the street. Also, I notice a few more tires and tubes. 1 minute later the motorbike is gone with a few rp exchanging hands. Then it fits, the tires and tubes, and air compressor make this place a "garage". One of the men sits with his shirt pulled up under his armpits. He's as hot as I am. But, a breeze picks up, the shirt comes down. I've been here for 4 1/2 hours and need a nap. Before I leave, I settle my bill; soup, one water, 2 coffees, 2 teas for the cigarette man comes to $1.80. I give her a 20000 ($2) bill and refuse the change. Hand shakes and good-byes all around. I'm tired from doing nothing!
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Medan, again
Catching the ferry at 7:00, I am heading to Parapat, the town on the mainland across from Tuk Tuk. Once there, I check the public square for the WC. By the WC are merchants selling fish from the lake. The fish flop, in the early morning coolness, and wait their turn to be gutted and scaled. I have found that in addition to the public bus, which was my transportation on the way down, there is also a minibus which can be shared with up to 7 persons. A young Indian couple with a 5 year old boy are geting into such a minibus and I ask if I can go along. They have chartered the minibus, but the man agrees that I can have the backseat. We'll settle later, he says. The wife is not happy with him giving me a seat. Finding my spot, I listen to her reasons why, "The boy will need to pee. I will want to stop along the way." Yes, I agree. That settled, we leave. Bouncing and weaving becomes a habit with this driver and the road. One particular bounce has me hitting my head on the ceiling. The wife softens, asks about me, and hands me a sandwich they had brought with them. I accept graciously; bread, cheese, and tomato. Onward. The 5 year old suddenly has this sick look and the mother hurriedly searches for a barf bag. It is one from the airplane trip over, and the boy is sick. Leaving the bag and contents by the side of the road, we continue. 3 1/2 hours from the start, we arrive at the airport in Medan. I pay the $10 for the ride and am happy to have that behind me. The Indian family is headed back to Jakarta where he works. The driver takes me to my accomodations, Hotel Raya. At 70000 ($7), it is downtown Medan. I have a second floor room with a small balcony. Bathroom is off the balcony. Still not having a working phone, I email Doug, in Palembang, and have transfered the particulars of my tomorrow's arrival. Now for some food and a walk.
Pot Pourri
- The Batak homes are built on stilts so a water buffalo or pig can be corraled underneath. The interior of their homes are one big room. Everyone sleeps together.
- Motorbikes carry everything. There are eggs stacked in crates on the back, chickens hanging from the handle bars, 4-5 can ride (2 adults and 2 to 3 children squeezed between or in front of the driver.
- Some of the Medan street lights have lost their color. Only the position of the light details the action required.
- I am learning the horn language from short squeeks to long burst. Each has its message.
- If on the public bus and you want to exit, simply tap sharply on the railing, which runs the length of the bus, and the driver will let you off.
- Zippers may be my major worry. I use the zippers in my shirts most. If the bigger zippers in my backpack fail, I will think of it then.
- Learn the system. Each people has its own way of doing things. It works for them, as ours works for us. There isn't a good of bad. Just is! Learn it and you will be better served.
- Motorbikes carry everything. There are eggs stacked in crates on the back, chickens hanging from the handle bars, 4-5 can ride (2 adults and 2 to 3 children squeezed between or in front of the driver.
- Some of the Medan street lights have lost their color. Only the position of the light details the action required.
- I am learning the horn language from short squeeks to long burst. Each has its message.
- If on the public bus and you want to exit, simply tap sharply on the railing, which runs the length of the bus, and the driver will let you off.
- Zippers may be my major worry. I use the zippers in my shirts most. If the bigger zippers in my backpack fail, I will think of it then.
- Learn the system. Each people has its own way of doing things. It works for them, as ours works for us. There isn't a good of bad. Just is! Learn it and you will be better served.
Fish Farms
All over SE Asia, fish farms are cropping up. One is also here in Lake Toba. There are 20 tons of fish harvested each day from this relatively small farm. The fish are exported to Europe and America. It is on your menu. Owned by foreign companies who pay off the local authorities, this farm is polluting the lake. Although the lake is 4ooo ft deep and quite large, it can't sustain this impact for long. We certainly wouldn't allow such a pristine area to be contaminated Stateside. But here, on the other side of the world, where no one is watching, or cares enough, the environment is being corrupted for our satisfaction. Don't get me started!
The Healer
Already last Sunday, I felt I was taking a cold. By Wedneday there was no doubt, nothing serious, more of a growing nuisance. Then, Thursday and Friday it descends into my lungs. Knowing that this could turn serious, I question Annette, owner of Tabo Cottages, about finding antibiotics, if I need them. Her remedy is a massage. "He's a healer," she comments. OK, schedule one for me. I ask the price. Since he will need to travel several km she thinks 60000 rp ($6) is a fair price. He is an elderly man with a closely cropped mustache and a beard which starts just under his chin and is thinning. His hands are powerful. He throws a mat on the floor of my room and spreads a sarong. He pays special attention to my throat. Working an area, his hands pull away sharply, squeezing my skin as he does so and he snaps his fingers. It is as if he is collecting the germs and disposing of them. An hour moves quickly and the massage ends. I no longer have my chest cold. I'm still somewhat congested, but feel much better.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Evening Worship
Thursday evening
Around 8:00 p m , Harry, one of the young Batak men who works here at the cottages, picks up his guitar and begins strumming out on the veranda. I join him, sitting on the pole railing, with my back to the lake, singing along when we come to a familiar tune. He drifts into Batak music and is joined by a second guitar. Then, down from the lounging area closest to the counter, where food/drinks are ordered, a young German woman, Yvonne, comes to sit next to me. Her boyfriend, Peter, takes a walk to the lake. She buys Harry a beer and we listen to him playing his songs. Batak music is happy. There is lots of rhythm and the beat is fast. He plays what he refers to as Batak reggae, Batak blues, and Batak hip hop. Breaking a string, the concert comes to an abrupt end. Yvonne and I talk till 10. Evening worship concluded and our spirits lifted, we drift off to bed.
Around 8:00 p m , Harry, one of the young Batak men who works here at the cottages, picks up his guitar and begins strumming out on the veranda. I join him, sitting on the pole railing, with my back to the lake, singing along when we come to a familiar tune. He drifts into Batak music and is joined by a second guitar. Then, down from the lounging area closest to the counter, where food/drinks are ordered, a young German woman, Yvonne, comes to sit next to me. Her boyfriend, Peter, takes a walk to the lake. She buys Harry a beer and we listen to him playing his songs. Batak music is happy. There is lots of rhythm and the beat is fast. He plays what he refers to as Batak reggae, Batak blues, and Batak hip hop. Breaking a string, the concert comes to an abrupt end. Yvonne and I talk till 10. Evening worship concluded and our spirits lifted, we drift off to bed.
1 goes and 1 stays
Thursday, Feb. 7,08
Shannon left at 10:00, headed for Medan. I hate good-byes. There she will again find Anna. The influx of new guests has me longing for old friends. This is the Chinese New Year and there will be celebrations everywhere, including Tuk Tuk. I killed 6 mosquitoes in my room and still received two bites. They had to get me between undressing and covering with my top sheet-both bites are on my knee cap. Ambushed!
Praise Jesus (David), I found an internet connection for my memory card. After that I worked to place all pictures on my flash drive and set up a Picasa site for viewing.
(Confession I am grabbing back-with your hands make a grabbing motion here-attempting to retrieve, take back, all the curses and hexes I have placed on the man who sold me my camera.)
Around 4:00, I spent time talking with a 48 yr old German man, Robert, who referred to himself as a professional traveller. His wife comes along as she can. He wants to visit every country in the world. He laments the fact that he has not yet seen Japan. I looked him over closely for clues as to traveling light and well.
Stupidity has followed me half-way round the world. Jumping in for a swim I did not remove my camera hanging on my belt. It likely isn't fixable, although I have removed battery and memory stick and swabbed as much as possible with a Q tip. All-Weather, which appears on the front of the camera, does not mean All-Wet. Thankfully, all pictures were transferred and so I'm losing a camera but no memories. If it doesn't come around I will check in Jakarta for a new one. Drat!
Shannon left at 10:00, headed for Medan. I hate good-byes. There she will again find Anna. The influx of new guests has me longing for old friends. This is the Chinese New Year and there will be celebrations everywhere, including Tuk Tuk. I killed 6 mosquitoes in my room and still received two bites. They had to get me between undressing and covering with my top sheet-both bites are on my knee cap. Ambushed!
Praise Jesus (David), I found an internet connection for my memory card. After that I worked to place all pictures on my flash drive and set up a Picasa site for viewing.
(Confession I am grabbing back-with your hands make a grabbing motion here-attempting to retrieve, take back, all the curses and hexes I have placed on the man who sold me my camera.)
Around 4:00, I spent time talking with a 48 yr old German man, Robert, who referred to himself as a professional traveller. His wife comes along as she can. He wants to visit every country in the world. He laments the fact that he has not yet seen Japan. I looked him over closely for clues as to traveling light and well.
Stupidity has followed me half-way round the world. Jumping in for a swim I did not remove my camera hanging on my belt. It likely isn't fixable, although I have removed battery and memory stick and swabbed as much as possible with a Q tip. All-Weather, which appears on the front of the camera, does not mean All-Wet. Thankfully, all pictures were transferred and so I'm losing a camera but no memories. If it doesn't come around I will check in Jakarta for a new one. Drat!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Pisaca web pics
Here is the URL for viewing a few of my pictures:
http://picasaweb.google.com/musungi/indonesia
I have not been able to post pictures to my blog exept my photo
http://picasaweb.google.com/musungi/indonesia
I have not been able to post pictures to my blog exept my photo
Rules of the road
Few rules apply. But, the ones that do are important. Trucks push cars off the road. Trucks/cars push motor bikes off the road. Trucks/cars/motor bikes push bicycles off the road. All four push pedestrians into the ditch. Large animals have right of way. Smaller ones follow the pedestrian rule.
Motor bikes and Batak Dancing
Wed. Feb. 6, 08
Shannon and I strike out for the opposite side of the island on motor bikes-4 speed Honda. Sun block is applied, sunglasses, shirt sleeves rolled down (me), helmet in place. Watch out for the water buffalo with a braided rope through the nose. Some are tethered along the road or in a field, others roam free. Still others are tended by a young boy. Chickens, goats, pigs, and dogs ae all part of the traffic. Luckily, there are relatively few vehicles. Driving is on the left. Shannon takes the lead. Honking at her means stop. photo op. She is confused by the, "Wow, get a load of that blond babe" honks from vehicles passing both directions and she checks to see if I want to stop. No. It is 43 km to Pangurura. The road follows the coastline, we are headed around the island's north end and arrive after 2 hours looking for an ATM, cell phone shop and lunch. Food is found in a crowded market square where we park 3 deep near a police van. When someone needs to move a car the motor bikes will be shifted to the side by the vehicle's driver. No need bothering the owner/renter of the motor bike. Lunch is noodles with a fried egg. We find the ATM where Shannon only draws a small amount. With the crowds looking on, caution is exerted. We talk with a shop owner and find why my cell phone hasn't been working, and head back. Shannon's sense of direction is keen and we head back after several wrong ways on one ways. We arrive back at the hotel at 4:00, and go our separate ways. Meeting again at 7:30, we walk to Bagus Bay (restaurant) for some dinner and Batak dancing. The Batak people are extroverted feeling and yell their greetings,Horas. The dance movements are simple, the music happy. Few are present, which makes for a personal touch. 10:00 finds us back and sleep comes quickly.
Shannon and I strike out for the opposite side of the island on motor bikes-4 speed Honda. Sun block is applied, sunglasses, shirt sleeves rolled down (me), helmet in place. Watch out for the water buffalo with a braided rope through the nose. Some are tethered along the road or in a field, others roam free. Still others are tended by a young boy. Chickens, goats, pigs, and dogs ae all part of the traffic. Luckily, there are relatively few vehicles. Driving is on the left. Shannon takes the lead. Honking at her means stop. photo op. She is confused by the, "Wow, get a load of that blond babe" honks from vehicles passing both directions and she checks to see if I want to stop. No. It is 43 km to Pangurura. The road follows the coastline, we are headed around the island's north end and arrive after 2 hours looking for an ATM, cell phone shop and lunch. Food is found in a crowded market square where we park 3 deep near a police van. When someone needs to move a car the motor bikes will be shifted to the side by the vehicle's driver. No need bothering the owner/renter of the motor bike. Lunch is noodles with a fried egg. We find the ATM where Shannon only draws a small amount. With the crowds looking on, caution is exerted. We talk with a shop owner and find why my cell phone hasn't been working, and head back. Shannon's sense of direction is keen and we head back after several wrong ways on one ways. We arrive back at the hotel at 4:00, and go our separate ways. Meeting again at 7:30, we walk to Bagus Bay (restaurant) for some dinner and Batak dancing. The Batak people are extroverted feeling and yell their greetings,Horas. The dance movements are simple, the music happy. Few are present, which makes for a personal touch. 10:00 finds us back and sleep comes quickly.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
2 go and 2 stay
Last night was late, 12:00, as no one wanted to break up the last evening together. Insects became bitey, as the Aussies say, so we all took care of that in our own way-some wrapped up, some sprayed repellant. I killed 2 in my room. That should keep down a bit of the buzz. Today, 7:00, Mark and Anna stepped onto the ferry and are off to Medan. I gave the two of them a card with my painting on the front, the card I sent out over Christmas of Roan Mt, TN. Shannon and I stay. It was sad to watch them round the peninsula. Anna and I may cross paths in a few weeks. Mark is headed to Java, Australia, and the US. Shannon slept in. She will return tomorrow to join up with Anna in Medan. I will remain.
Shopping
There are items which one doesn't even consider buying when planning such an outing. $6 cottages do not include a top sheet. So, Anna, Shannon, Mark (UK traveller, 31 years old, has been already 3 months on his way with 6 months ahead of him, and I search for internet sites and for me, a sarong. Anna keeps insisting that this item works as top sheet and all around cover, any diverse need I may have. I find one with a Batik print (Batik is a form of dyeing). It costs me 30000 rp=$3. A pair of sandals or thongs would be nice. But, none can be found over a size 8. We find an internet spot but there is no memory card reader to transfer my pictures. Maybe tomorrow! Clove is included in the cigarettes. We pass some drying on our walk.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Tuk Tuk
Is it that the people here have such a fatalistic belief in life-if Allah wills it-that lets them drive as they do. Or, is it that they drive as they do and need to have a fall back belief in-if Allah wills it.
From my Medan hotel I take a taxi to where I am to meet up with Anna and Shannon. After we drive for 15 minutes, he pulls over and tells me that where I want to go is right around the corner. I pay him the requested $3 and find myself totally lost. After calling Anna we realize I am now in the opposite direction from them. I begin walking, looking for a taxi. No taxi. Finding a security guard, who works at a corporate office bulding, he is delighted to practice his English and secure me a cab. This time I call Anna and hand the phone to the driver. She explains where I need to meet up. Off we go. 30 minutes later we pull up to where the gals are seated on their backpacks. Taking the same cab, we head for the bus depot. Hot, sticky, diesel fumes, but we arrive only to find that the bus we want has just headed out of the depot. The driver speeds after the bus, honking, waving, until the bus pulls over and we board. From Medan to Parapat-18000 rupiah. That equals $1.80 for a 4 hour ride. No AC. I'm sweating sitting next to a local man, mid-20s, in a seat only one should occupy. I thank God I am as small as I am. Well, it's not the smallness that counts here but the small butt. Indos do not have personal space as we do. If you press against each other, cheek to cheek, that is considered a sign of friendship. This guy is my best friend! His name is Faisal and he exits after about 1 hour. The man across the aisle and one up is smoking incessantly. Now in front of me, the man is smoking. Lord have Mercy!! Only when he sleeps is he not inhaling nicotine. A little grandma, small butt, sits next to me as I slide to the window "seat" after Faisal leaves. Next, a middle aged man sits with me, then an 8 year old girl. What courage it must have taken for her to sit next to this big butt foreigner. Next is a teenage girl who is selling things on the bus-on at one stop, off at the next. Bus hopping. She is so innocent. Anna and Shannon buy some cakes and pastries from her. Sitting across the aisle, both directly across and one up are women with infants. One of the women is breast feeding-there's a naturalness about such things. We enter the mountains and the jungle closes in. The bus grinds up the winding, potholed, narrow highway, this is the Trans Sumatran Highway. Descending into Parapat, we de-bus near the ferry which will take us to the island in Lake Toba. Lake Toba is an extinct volcano so the sides climb steeply from the water's edge. With 30 minutes before the ferry leaves, we order some light food, drink, and find the WC. Bus riding does not allow for watering holes or pit stops. On the ferry 7000 rp (70 cents) we bounce over the choppy waters for 30 minutes. We are dropped off at a dock in Tuk Tuk. Anna, Shannon and I make for the first hotel. No room. We have read of the Tabo Cottages, a 10 minute walk around to the left, and find the office. My first thought is, "God doesn't know about this spot." I take a room at 60000 rp ($6). The room is spartan (bottom sheet and light blanket) but clean. The toilet is a hole in the ground, Indonesian style, and a cold shower. But, the lake is pristine. I could stay here forever.
From my Medan hotel I take a taxi to where I am to meet up with Anna and Shannon. After we drive for 15 minutes, he pulls over and tells me that where I want to go is right around the corner. I pay him the requested $3 and find myself totally lost. After calling Anna we realize I am now in the opposite direction from them. I begin walking, looking for a taxi. No taxi. Finding a security guard, who works at a corporate office bulding, he is delighted to practice his English and secure me a cab. This time I call Anna and hand the phone to the driver. She explains where I need to meet up. Off we go. 30 minutes later we pull up to where the gals are seated on their backpacks. Taking the same cab, we head for the bus depot. Hot, sticky, diesel fumes, but we arrive only to find that the bus we want has just headed out of the depot. The driver speeds after the bus, honking, waving, until the bus pulls over and we board. From Medan to Parapat-18000 rupiah. That equals $1.80 for a 4 hour ride. No AC. I'm sweating sitting next to a local man, mid-20s, in a seat only one should occupy. I thank God I am as small as I am. Well, it's not the smallness that counts here but the small butt. Indos do not have personal space as we do. If you press against each other, cheek to cheek, that is considered a sign of friendship. This guy is my best friend! His name is Faisal and he exits after about 1 hour. The man across the aisle and one up is smoking incessantly. Now in front of me, the man is smoking. Lord have Mercy!! Only when he sleeps is he not inhaling nicotine. A little grandma, small butt, sits next to me as I slide to the window "seat" after Faisal leaves. Next, a middle aged man sits with me, then an 8 year old girl. What courage it must have taken for her to sit next to this big butt foreigner. Next is a teenage girl who is selling things on the bus-on at one stop, off at the next. Bus hopping. She is so innocent. Anna and Shannon buy some cakes and pastries from her. Sitting across the aisle, both directly across and one up are women with infants. One of the women is breast feeding-there's a naturalness about such things. We enter the mountains and the jungle closes in. The bus grinds up the winding, potholed, narrow highway, this is the Trans Sumatran Highway. Descending into Parapat, we de-bus near the ferry which will take us to the island in Lake Toba. Lake Toba is an extinct volcano so the sides climb steeply from the water's edge. With 30 minutes before the ferry leaves, we order some light food, drink, and find the WC. Bus riding does not allow for watering holes or pit stops. On the ferry 7000 rp (70 cents) we bounce over the choppy waters for 30 minutes. We are dropped off at a dock in Tuk Tuk. Anna, Shannon and I make for the first hotel. No room. We have read of the Tabo Cottages, a 10 minute walk around to the left, and find the office. My first thought is, "God doesn't know about this spot." I take a room at 60000 rp ($6). The room is spartan (bottom sheet and light blanket) but clean. The toilet is a hole in the ground, Indonesian style, and a cold shower. But, the lake is pristine. I could stay here forever.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
OOPS
Monday morning, back home most people are watching the Super Bowl. I have other supers to experience.
I am in the Garuda Plaza Hotel, downtown Medan, Sumatra. It's a fine enough hotel. But, I can't find the air conditioning control. It's a bit cool for me, so I scour the room. Nothing. The only thing I find is a vent, which won't close. Next best idea is to find more bedding. With only a sheet and thin blanket on the bed, I head to the closet. Nothing! But, there is a small something. I place this cloth on the blanket, it covers only a fraction of my body. Better than nothing, I figure. This morning the cloth is lying on the floor and I recognize it - A PRAYER RUG. OOPS. I should have known - this is a Muslim country, afterall.
I am in the Garuda Plaza Hotel, downtown Medan, Sumatra. It's a fine enough hotel. But, I can't find the air conditioning control. It's a bit cool for me, so I scour the room. Nothing. The only thing I find is a vent, which won't close. Next best idea is to find more bedding. With only a sheet and thin blanket on the bed, I head to the closet. Nothing! But, there is a small something. I place this cloth on the blanket, it covers only a fraction of my body. Better than nothing, I figure. This morning the cloth is lying on the floor and I recognize it - A PRAYER RUG. OOPS. I should have known - this is a Muslim country, afterall.
Medan, Indonesia
Time is not all the same. Some experiences are longer than others. The morning starts with a 6:00 departure for the Palembang airport. Finding a relatively clean seat, in the gate area, the delays start-not bad, only 30 minutes. Descending into Jakarta (1 hour flight) the city is aflood in continuing rain. The inter-runway areas are a bog. Landing I see that my Jakarta-Medan flight (2 hour flight) is delayed. It's a cruel joke to delay 1 1/2 hours, delay again that amount of time, and then cancel the flight. Now what? Sitting in the gate area I begin a conversation with two Aussie gals from the Uni in Canberra. Anna and Shannon are in Indonesia for 4 weeks studying Indonesian and vacationing. Both of them speak a good Indonesian. We head to the "Executive Lounge" at a cost of $5. (How can an executive lounge look like the rest of the airport?) Finding some food, we wait. Anna thinks she hears something being said and leaves to make inquires about what's going to happen. With nothing being said over the speakers, how would we know that a flight has been re-instated, unless there is a continual asking. I know I'm traveling solo, and am aware of the need for caution. Then, I see these two young women who are enjoying, and anticipating, the new things upcoming. Anna asks if I would like to join them for the next few days. You bet! Anna's language skills will come in handy. And I have some company. I accept! Tomorrow we travel to Lake Toba, 5 hours by bus southwest of Medan. We will spend the night and then find our way to the orangutan refuges and more.
Words
In the front of my English/Indonesia dictionary I have written some simple words for reference:
Hospital - Rumah Sakit
Police - Polisi (that's an easy one)
Help - Bantuan
Thanks - Makasih
Selamat Datang - Welcome
Selamat Pagi - Good Morning
Good Evening - Selamat Malam
Friend - Teman
Good Friend - Bagus Teman
Help Margie, or Iain, if this is incorrect let me know. I would hate to be asking someone to marry me or be making a comment about their mother.
Hospital - Rumah Sakit
Police - Polisi (that's an easy one)
Help - Bantuan
Thanks - Makasih
Selamat Datang - Welcome
Selamat Pagi - Good Morning
Good Evening - Selamat Malam
Friend - Teman
Good Friend - Bagus Teman
Help Margie, or Iain, if this is incorrect let me know. I would hate to be asking someone to marry me or be making a comment about their mother.
Time with the Sundas
It's my mother's birthday today. There will be many of these, "not there" moments. Happy Birthday Mom.
Doug and Vivian were to spend several days in Jakarta. That did not happen due to the flooding of the city and airport. Instead, they picked me up and we went to the golf course and slapped at 5 buckets of balls. Rather, I slapped, they hit. The driving range has ponds on the left, bamboo stalks lining the right side and a bunching of banana trees at about the 250 m mark. Agus, our driver, slept in the car. With that out of the way, we headed for a Costco type store to look for a shoping bag-come back next week. Next stop was the grocery for food products. I did see some apples from the US but mainly they appear to be from China. The fishing countries like Japan and China are not allowed within the 12 mi. limit of Indonesia so they hire locals to fish for them and bring the catches to their vessels outside the limit. Quickly, these waters are being overfished. Then, to the Sunda house for talk, food, playing with a small helicopter I brought for us to crash. The Sunda residence is a three bedroom house secured by high walls on three sides and a shorter fence along the front. A large steel gate, with padlock, secures the outer gate. The house is the usual tropical look of high ceilings. Dinner is simple and flavorful-Vivian learned to cook from her grandmother in China. Beers wash down the meal, with a shot of scotch to finish the evening. Good folk! 9:00-Agus takes me home. I sleep all night. The second such night. My body has arrived!
Doug and Vivian were to spend several days in Jakarta. That did not happen due to the flooding of the city and airport. Instead, they picked me up and we went to the golf course and slapped at 5 buckets of balls. Rather, I slapped, they hit. The driving range has ponds on the left, bamboo stalks lining the right side and a bunching of banana trees at about the 250 m mark. Agus, our driver, slept in the car. With that out of the way, we headed for a Costco type store to look for a shoping bag-come back next week. Next stop was the grocery for food products. I did see some apples from the US but mainly they appear to be from China. The fishing countries like Japan and China are not allowed within the 12 mi. limit of Indonesia so they hire locals to fish for them and bring the catches to their vessels outside the limit. Quickly, these waters are being overfished. Then, to the Sunda house for talk, food, playing with a small helicopter I brought for us to crash. The Sunda residence is a three bedroom house secured by high walls on three sides and a shorter fence along the front. A large steel gate, with padlock, secures the outer gate. The house is the usual tropical look of high ceilings. Dinner is simple and flavorful-Vivian learned to cook from her grandmother in China. Beers wash down the meal, with a shot of scotch to finish the evening. Good folk! 9:00-Agus takes me home. I sleep all night. The second such night. My body has arrived!
Friday, February 1, 2008
Travel Plans
Doug is right. There isn't much in Palembang or surroundings. To the north, 500 km, is the city of Medan. Tomorrow, I have made plans to see that area. To get there means returning to Jakarta and then flying past Palembang, and on to Medan. Why can't there be a direct flight? This was planned through a travel agent named Lisa at whose desk I sat for an hour. Sumatra, as I'm sure most of the third world countries, is run by 18-25 year olds. Lisa can't be over 20. Not wanting to have that lost look when I land in Medan, I also booked a hotel, Garuda Plaza Hotel, for one night-$35 for a 3 star hotel. I'll let you know if that should read 3 or less when I arrive. From there I want to make my way to some parks and Lake Toba.
I bought a pocket dictionary and a Sumatra map for help.
Here's a tip: When you are in REI buying travel clothes and the salesperson says, "These clothes will dry in one hour!" ADD 2 DAYS. Although, I am contemplating wearing damp clothes. Why not? Certainly cooler!
I bought a pocket dictionary and a Sumatra map for help.
Here's a tip: When you are in REI buying travel clothes and the salesperson says, "These clothes will dry in one hour!" ADD 2 DAYS. Although, I am contemplating wearing damp clothes. Why not? Certainly cooler!
Ramblings
-Table utensils are either chopsticks or a fork and spoon which are used together, one in each hand. No knife.
-Men often wear hats which appear to be cotton. They are either worn almond shaped on the head or opened up to fit the head making them round.
-At breakfast the guave juice was substituted with mango juice. No complaints.
-I ditched my socks within 2 hours of landing-too warm.
-Makasih, in Indonesian, is thank you. Oddly, that is my Congolese name - Makasi. Same pronounciation.
-Men often wear hats which appear to be cotton. They are either worn almond shaped on the head or opened up to fit the head making them round.
-At breakfast the guave juice was substituted with mango juice. No complaints.
-I ditched my socks within 2 hours of landing-too warm.
-Makasih, in Indonesian, is thank you. Oddly, that is my Congolese name - Makasi. Same pronounciation.
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