Panas Manis

Panas Manis (Indonesian for Hot Sweet) is the best way to describe my last 10 days in Indonesia on Bali with my first visitor Shaun a.k.a Bintang Boombada! After 2 1/2 weeks in the more remote parts of Indonesia his visit and our journey through Bali was a real breadth of fresh air!

The plan was to rent a motorcycle (I now had my own personal ojek driver) and explore the island. In 10 days we managed to check out the southwest, northern, and eastern coasts of bali and get some culture inland while visiting Bali's art capital of Ubud.

In Kuta where you sometimes think you've seen more tourists then locals all day you're bombarded with dvds, cds, sunglasses, sarongs, the mentionables and the unmentionables can be bought here. This is the best place to shop price wise so it’s wise to look around first hone up on those bargaining skills and go to town on your last day

As you approach Ubud, which is about a 1.5 hour drive north of kuta the air changes. It gets a bit cooler and the hustle and bustle seems to quiet down. Here the streets are filled with boutiques and art shops some ranging from little holes in the walls to others that would seem right at home on West Broadway in Soho. We stayed at a great little homestay tucked behind the streets in a little alley. In Ubud is where we hired a motorcycle for 5 days. It’s also where we got to see the traditional Balinese Kecek Dance which tells the story of Sita and Rawan.

After Ubud we planned to head north through the western mountains up to Lovina/Singaraja then along the coast down to the eastern port of Padang Bai. All i can say is that i'm so glad that Shaun was there. If it were not for him I would not have gotten to see half as much or enjoyed myself as much as I did. His company and presence is what really made Bali special. Our way of traveling together really seemed to work for us. Its a word I seem to use often when describing Shaun but it fits - effortless, pure and simple. We’d agree on a destination and then just drive in what we thought was the right direction. Between the street signs, our little handy dandy map, and the kindness of strangers we had the luxury of heading down dirt roads making wrong turns and coming across beautiful views, hidden temples and some very interesting and friendly locals. One of my favorite moments was on our drive down to Padang Bai where we passed hundreds of school kids on their way home. For a good 15-20 minutes all we could hear was 'HALO! HALO! HALO!' and see these massive grins with arms frantically waving. I’m sure we looked a bit crazy trying to answer and wave back to each and every one of them.

Of course one of the other things that made me smile was the food. It seems like all we did was eat. Breakfast almost always was free and at times included eggs, toast, fruit pancakes, fruit salad, and fresh fruit juice. That in itself was amazing! I think i must have gone through at least 2 mango lassis a day. Along with the typical lunch fare of fried rice and noodles we came across some great regional dishes such as Ayam Bebetu (slow roasted Chicken) and Randang Sapi (Beef in a dry curry of ginger/garlic/shredded coconut). And then there was the mid-day satays, late afternoon spring rolls, and evening orange fantas ...mmmm...orange fanta in a glass bottle

Just to give you an idea of what the prices are like:
soda - 25 to 75 cents
fried rice - 60 cents to a dollar
imported Australian steak - 6-8 bucks
whole red snapper in garlic/sambal bali sauce - 4-7 dollars
double room with AC/hot shower/pool - $7 per person per night (that’s living it up!)
fresh mango juice - 30-50 cents

Throw in the mix some serious shopping, surfing lessons, a vicious boogey board, and some sunburn and you've got our Bali.

Happy B-Day!!!!!!!!

No its not anyone's birthday, this is a Happy Brother's Day - Raksha Bandhan wish! This year the holiday of Raksha Bandhan (roughly translates to sacred bond or bond of protection) falls on August 19th. On this day siblings pray for each other's well being and recognize their affection and love for each other. A sister offers her brother a rakhi (blessed bracelet) and vows to protect him from all evil as he pledges to protect her from all harm

I remember when i was younger maybe in pre-school or kindergarden telling other kids that I had an older brother. My parents had just hidden him from me because i was bad. Well I guess I never behaved because the mysterious brother never appeared. But luckily for me I never felt the loss. I may have been an only child, but luckily my parents were not. Which meant lots and lots of cousins. And coming from a culture where 'immdediate family' meant every aunt, uncle, cousin I grew up knowing each and everyone of them.

This is the first time in 26 years that I will not have the opportunity to tie atleast one rakhi in person. So in recognition of all my brothers, I thought I'd dedicate this entry to them.

So in no particular order
Hitesh bhai
Jaymin Bhai
Devas Bahi
Yamit Bhai
Dhaval Bhai
Mikin Bhai
Vipul Bhai
Samir Bhai
Chintu
Jay
Amit
Vipul
Aayush
Jeet
Mayur

Consider this post a virtual rakhi. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Lots of love and God bless

Your sister,
Lopa

Season of Death

17th of August, Wednesday Rantepao

Quite a few countries around the world are celebrating their independence this week. 14 August - Pakistan, 15 - India and Republic of Congo, 16 - Cyprus, 17 - Indonesia and Gabon, 18 - Afghanistan.

Its my last day in Tana Toraja and after 3 days of roaming through the region and its beautiful rice fields its kind of nice to have my day off be a national holiday. Everyone's slowed down a bit, only a few businesses open. I am a bit surprised though, as for the past week as I've been traveling I've seen school children marching down the streets, singing the national anthem. I would have thought it was in preparation for a Independence Day parade or something. Except for the hundreds of red and white flags and banner I don't think anyone would have realized that today was the 60th Anniversary of when Indonesia gained its independence from the Dutch.

Like many countries if it were not for the colonialism by the West Indonesia may not have consisted of the islands it does today. Part of the reason there is so much turmoil in this region is because the people/culture/religion/history has nothing to do with one another. East Timor succeeded in reaching independence and many separates groups from aceh, malucu, and irian jaya are hoping for the same.

The first two days in Tana Toraja, my guide Martin - nephew of the owner of the Wisma Irama i was staying at took me around to see the sites. With it being funeral season the theme of course was death. In Lemo we saw the cliff graves. Where small caves are dug into the side of cliffs to place the coffin with the body of the deceased and their belongings. In the south the entrance to the grave is protected by tau-tau - a statue of a few feet tall representing the deceased. A small balcony is built where several tau-tau hang out.

In Londa, we visited what was called a natural grave site, but had obviously been rearranged to entertain tourists as skulls had been placed all around the cave in crevices along the wall. What was interesting however was the baby grave site near by. The torajans believed that a baby of 5 months or younger (before growing teeth) was still quite pure and had the ability to go back into the heavens and reincarnate into the next life. Small holes the length of the baby were carved into a tree, and the baby was placed standing up. The thought was that as the tree grew it would be easier for the baby to reach the heavens. The tree still stands today and is alive so many of the holes over the years have started to close up.

Although this tradition is no longer practiced today, cave graves are still used. However most common is the use of house graves. If a family has enough money they build a small house for the deceased.

On the 2nd day we spent most of the morning at the funeral of a Makula woman. She had passed away a few months ago. The torajan will either keep the body of the deceased in the southern part of the house until they have saved enough money for a funeral or will immediately bury the body and then big it up again when they have the funds (in some cases it will be years before enough money has been saved). I don't know about you but i've thought about death before and wondered who would attend my funeral - old enemies, new friends, family etc. A bit morbid I guess, but we've all been curious. Here the question is not who will attend but how many. And not how many people, but how many buffalos. The buffalo is the sacrificial animal of choice here and folks will spend their lives saving money to make sure they are properly sent off.

My guide Martin, has 2 children but comes from a family of 7. He's trying to follow the family planning mentality. But he says its been difficult, because in Toraja people believe that if you have more children then you are guaranteed more buffalos at your funeral. My suggestion was to save the money that would have gone into raising a child/educating a child and save it towards buffalos. He just laughed as if I was talking nonsense.

Alot more goes into the funeral, an event that can last up to a week. Family and guest arrive from all over, bringing food, gifts, and of course pigs. The government has actually placed a tax on sacrificing animals in order to deter it. The family of the deceased weigh and measure the pigs and record the information for future. The pigs are roasted and then in the center of the event the pigs and buffalo are slaughtered. The heads of the buffalo ( in this case 3) go to the most important family members after the horns are removed. As you'll see in my pics the horns are displayed in front of the house - common practice in tribes throughout indonesia. Once the meat has been chopped up it is distributed to the family members. Guests are served coffee, tea, snacks and the men are given kretek cigarrettes (you know djarum, clove cigarettes the kind you're not supposed to inhale!). The mood is still festive as the Torajans believe until they are buried the deceased are still alive. They are spoken to and about in the present tense. The mood of the last day turns somber as the coffin is carried to the grave. A procession of family and guests dressed in black.

Yesterday was a nice change of pace. Rather then traveling by motorbike we took a bemo to the north and spent 5 hours trekking around the northern villages along the summit of Gunung Sesean. A bit challenging especially since the steps of the rice fields can be up to 10 feet high, the paths around the fields about 8 inches wide and as it had just rained, everything was muddy and slippery. But the views were worth it. For miles all you could see were the rice fields and steps, and the backs of the villagers hunched over as they cut, planted, replanted. Others picked and dried cocoa beans and coffee.

Like many developing and 3rd world nations you started working pretty much from the age you could walk. Except for in the cities not once have I seen an overweight person. Fat does not get stored on these bodies. We come from a culture where we spend thousands of dollars a year on health foods, gyms, trainers and tanning salons trying to diminish the signs of our overindulgence. All to look like your typical farmer. That would be a great way to get volunteers - advertise that in 3 weeks they'll have great tans and lean muscular bodies - all while actually helping a community. It would probably cost less to fly out here then it would to join a New York Sports Club for a year. Just an idea. I could do with a few weeks out there myself. It would definitely put into perspective the difference between our needs versus our wants.

Great way to travel

I was told to arrive at the harbor at 6pm since the Pelni ship was leaving at 7pm. so i did as i was told. I should have known better. For 3 and 1/2 hours I waited along with hundreds of other passengers along the dock, waiting for our boat to arrive. all of us crammed together among boxes, bags, and luggage. little children going around selling boiled eggs and popcorn. And there i was the only foreign tourist. around 8:30 or so we spotted the lights of the Awu Ship, people began to cheer. The ship docked and porters began running up and down the walkway loading up boxes... the economy level doors opened and passengers started pouring out. The gate was still closed on our end but the crowds started shouting for them to open. The guard unlocked the gate and before he could get it even open a foot wide people started shoving and pushing their way through as if the ship would leave without them. As I walked toward the ship, well really i just got dragged along with the flow I could see the passengers who were trying to get off the boat being shoved aside. A woman, with her daughter and granddaughter were just standing there crying. I couldn't tell if they were waiting for someone to arrive and were crying in anticipation of seeing them or has just arrived and lost someone in the crowd.

Carefully I made my way up the walkway and people were running up and down to bring in the rest of their belongings. From the top of the ship I watched the crowd that looked like worker ants on a mission. At that moment I really was glad that I had bought a 2nd class ticket and in my room of 4 was guaranteed a spot. I don't think I would've had the energy to fight for my own little piece of floor in economy.

By 10 the ship had been loaded up and we set off. The next 20 hours were calm and uneventful. My 3 meals were included in the price of the ticket and I enjoyed sitting in the little dining area. The crew was even nice enough to put oprah on for me once everyone had finished lunch (its indescribable the feeling of hearing English on tv, if only it were the news instead - i feel completely oblivious to what's going on in the rest of the world).

I arrived Friday evening and spent the night at a small losmen in Makassar. The next morning I was taking the 9 hour bus ride to Tana Toraja.

Leaving Flores on to Sulawesi

Thursday 11 of August Maumere

So later this evening I'm catching a Pelni Ship to take me from Maumere to Makassar on the island of Sulawesi. Its supposed to be a great way to travel, which i hope is true as the trip will take 20 hours.

This past week in Flores has been a bit intense, I've seen some amazing things, beautiful places like the pre-historic looking kamodo dragons on Rinca, the lovely traditional villages of Bajawa, a little sun and sand on a secluded island off the north coast of Riung, and the unbelievable coloured lakes ok the Kelimutu Volcano.

I've also had my share of some yummy (but not so good for my tummy) foods like nasi goreng (fried rice), mie goreng (fried noodles) , ayam goreng (fried chicken) - lots of fried food if you hadn't noticed, not exactly healthy. But my favorite thus far is probably gado gado - sauted veggies in a peanut sauce. I say not so good for my tummy because as it was inevitable i got myself a little case of TD (traveller's diarrhoea) and based on my syptoms it looked like it was bacterial... so it was saltines and water for a few days.

Cousin of the Month Awards definitely goes to Chintu (aka Dr. Ketan Amin) for hooking me up with some antibiotics. Mom, before you worry, i am completely 100% okay. promise :)

I'm definitey ready to leave Flores. Lonely Planet has a section on Solo Woman Travellers and it reads that although travelling in South East Asia is safe, women travelling in Indonesia have reported some negative reactions. Its much better in the buddhist countries (hence why i never felt like this in Thailand). That pretty much summed it up in a nutshell. You get tired of the honking and hallo miss quite quickly. Through out my trip so far i always seem to meet the right people at the right time. Having bumped into Helena was a blessing because i don't think we would have enjoyed Flores as much if we were travelling alone.

I'm looking forward to my visit to Sulawesi. My plan is to spend a few days in the Tana Toraja region to visit the villages and to hopefully get invited to a funeral. Yea, you read that correctly. The tribes here have a massive celebration/festival once a year to bury their dead. It includes dancing, eating, drinking, sacrifices, and burying the dead in graves made into the sides of cliffs. The season starts in July and ends in August. Thousands of people from Sulawesi living elsewhere as well as hundreds of tourists visit to help celebrate.

Road to Bajawa

My first trip across the island of Flores was to the town of Bajawa where you could organize trips out to the different traditional villages in the area. A mere 10 hours from Labuan Bajo

The day didn't exactly start off that well. I had been told that the bus would pick me up outside my hotel when in fact it had no intention of doing so. If it hadn't been for a persistent young man who called himself a bemo collector I would have just sat there. Turns out I had to take a bemo to the bus terminal. A bemo, is basically a stripped down mini-van with bench seats along both sides. Its your basic form of local transportation, just flag one down going your way.

So now i was feeling a bit rushed, bus was to depart at 7am and i had 10 minutes to go. The problem with bemos is that they are also always looking for fares. They'll stop and ask people where they're going, they'll even hang out for a few seconds outside a shop just in case. So of course we made stops to pick up the woman who sold fish on sticks at the station, and the women who sold ginger and carrots at the market and some guy who jumped on, just hanging out the open door and then jumped off again.

Finally after what seems like an eternity, we get to the bus terminal, the bemo collector grabs my backpack and walks away... now i know he's not running away with it or anything but i'm still standing trying to pay the bemo driver who now wants to charge me an extra 1000 rupiah then we had originally agreed upon. I pay the man (the original price of course) and walked around trying to find the man with my backpack as all the people in the terminal stared at me. Finally ahead of me next to a bus, i see him. He opens the door and says you sit here.

okay. when i think of bus i think of njtransit, decamp, greyhound. i step up place my hand on the seat and look up. 4 seats are occupied the rest are not actually visible as they are stockpiled with fruits vegetables, rice, bags, etc. the row ahead of me is actually leaning on its side. it hasn't been screwed in yet. I wanted public transportation - i was going to get it.

As we headed to Bajawa we made stops along the way picking up more passengers and moving more stuff (for lack of a better word) onto the roof of the bus. Somehow just when i thought the bus was full, we'd stop again, do a bit more rearranging and POOF! like magic create another seat.

In the city of Ruteng we stopped to pick up one more passenger. The door opened and as the seat next to me had just been made vacant a woman got in and took it. I looked up and was surprised - another woman traveler (she was white and had a backpack) . She sat down next to me and as we started to move looked at the book on my lap. "Oh what are you reading?" I pass her the book. "Oh wow you must speak very good English". "I should hope so" - I said. She looked at me taken aback as I told her 'I'm American'.... I guess i look Indonesian to tourists as well.

That was how I met Helena, an adventurous spirit from Holland traveling around Indonesia for a few weeks who became my travel buddy for the past week. Really I think the gods must have been watching over us from above because I honestly don't think either one of us would have enjoyed any of Flores if we'd been alone

Selamat Siang

Sorry it took me so long to write but this is the first internet cafe on the island of Flores (i've been here for a week!) Alot has happened since my last post.

Saying goodbye to Sydney was difficult for many reasons, one of which was the fact that I was absolutely spoiled by the Lanhams who welcomed me into their home with a beer in each hand ;) Like I've said before Good food, Good Drink Good Company - what more could you ask for.

But alas I've said good bye to the english and hello to the world of Bahasa Indonesia. Traded in the "G'day" for "Halo Missus", "Can I bye you a drink" for "Missus, free ride on ojek, no charge no charge" and "You from America" to " You Indyan, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai".

I arrived in Denpasar, Bali on 1st of August and caught a glimpse of what the next few weeks to come would bring when i walked up to the immigration counter. "Selamat Pagi, berapa jam indonesia?" Excuse me? He repeats himself and I just look at him with a dumb look on my face - i hadn't gotten to the section that covered jams in my phrasebook.

It seems I look indonesian - sort of. They immediately know i'm of indian origin. I could tell this by the number of 'Halo Indyan' I got just walking 50 meters in Kuta. But many also assume i must be from Java where many people are of Indian descent and therefore can speak bahasa indonesia. So although I looked like more of a local then most foreigners I realized that I would be getting more attention because I was indian. Turns out Bollywood is quite big here and there are many a ojek (motorcycle) drivers that want to be Shah Rukh Khan to my Ashwairya Rai.

With Shaun flying out to Bali in mid-August I made a slight adjustment to my plans and decided to visit Flores and Sulawesi first and then come back to Bali when he arrives. I got a taxi to Fat Yogis and got the last room available for the obscene price of 110,000 rupiah(~$11.50). Visiting Indonesia during the dry season means also visiting during the high season. Prices double and many places have no vacancies. I checked in and then spent the rest of the day booking my flight for the next morning to Flores at the western port of Labuan Bajo and my outbound flight to Singapore.

Labuan Bajo is the tiny eastern port of Flores. I landed on its single dirt paved runway around noon. From this fishing village you could easily charter boats to Rinca and Komodo, the 2 biggest islands of the Komodo National Park. At the airport Jeffrey, my soon to be guide/travel agent/friend approached me asking if i needed a ride into town. He must have noticed the look on my face as I sat in the single building of the airport staring at all the faces of men squeezed up against the glass looking for passengers, not knowing who to go with.

I found a room after trying 2 hotels at the lovely Gardena Hotel. A little hut filled with a double sized bed and its own mandi (bathing room) was great. My goal of the day was to book a trip to Rinca to see the kamodo dragons which Jeffrey sorted out easily and head over to the pelni office to buy my ticket for when i left for sulawesi. My plan was to take the Pelni ferry ship from Maumere to Makassar - a 20 hour trip. The office was only down the street at the harbour. I walked down the steps of the hotel and headed down the street.

Not even 5 feet from the hotel, I got my first taste of the local hospitality. It went something like this -Honk Honk! from a bike driving by... 'Halo Missus' from a school boy walking by.... a not so innocent 'Oi Missus, where you go ,I help' from someone in a group of men sitting around. Some laughing, more halos etc. One guy even followed me asking a bunch of questions as if to try and help me and then wanted to know what hotel i stayed at and finally what room number! HA !!! I told him it was none of his business, where to shove it (even if he didn't understand the english he most definitely understood the look on my face). off he went. Unfortunately what remained was this feeling that I was going to come across this type of 'hospitality' through out my trip in Flores.

the next morning myself and 2 others at the hotel, a father and his son got up early to meet jeffrey and to catch our boat to Rinca. The trip took about 2 hours which was perfect as it gave me some time to just take in the scenery. Sobu, our captain looked like he was 80. A little but strong man who seemed to some how have a never ending kretek cigarette hanging off his lip.

We arrived at Rinca and followed Sobu to the main office to pay our boat fee, camera fee, park fee, because you're a tourist fee, its only a few dollars so you won't notice fees. Not even 100 meters from the office as we headed toward the trail to meet our guide we spotted 6 kamodo dragons! Kamodos have an amazing sense of smell something like 20 km i think and everyday they show up outside the kitchen of the ranger station. The size of these things are impressive - a few meters long, with long gnarly claws. They spend most of morning baking in the sun to raise their body temperature not moving at all. Of course when they need to catch a deer or water buffalo they can go as fast as 18km per hour. Their preferred way to kill is not to waste much energy at all and just hang out till something gets close enough to bite. Their saliva is like a venom and will immediately cause an infection to occur. Regardless of where the animal rests to die the dragon will use its keen sense of smell to find the carcass. Yummy.

The island itself looked like it could have been used to film Jurassic Park. Rolling hills, giant trees, I half expected to see a T-rex come charging down.

After a 3km trek around the island where we spotted a few more dragons and some water buffalo (unfortunately not together) we headed back to Labuan Bajo. Tomorrow I was planning on taking my first bus ride across Flores.