Jakarta (Jan 15th) –
Sitting on a slated wooden bench – backless so I hunch over – ears plugged but happy. Remembering Bahasa Indonesia bit by bit- words come to my lips as I tried to convince the taxi driver that we will take a bus to Gambir stasiun – Josh and I wonder which information is good information (everyone tells us something different). It is about 2am and softly humid. We took out money from a ATM and then proceeded to freak out at the sheer quantity removed until we realized, 50,000 Rupiah is only about $5US. It will take some getting used to; this currency laden with too many zeros.
My childhood rushes back to me like a well-spring within – smooth and joyous bubbling up of familiarity but also confusion. Like coming home in a dream but being unsure why that exact place should be home.
We hope to take a train to Semarang in central Jaya and then bus to Jepara, where Malyssa lives working with MCC in the SALT program, living with a host family and teaching English. Right now we have to wait until a possible arrival of a shuttle bus to the train station, or the decision to take a taxi instead.
Today was a long sort of insubstantial blur of rather odd events. Last night sleep was troubled in the boat like windowless room in the Kowloon area of Hong Kong – an organized but unfamiliar city full of lights and darkness unknown. We were glad to wake up and easily find the A21 bus to the airport for only $33HK each. We sat in the top deck, right at the front like kings in a caravan – sharing bread bits and juice until Josh noticed the, ‘no eating and drinking’ sign and it began to rain – blurring our view.
Hong Kong airport is a huge, organized wealth laden shopping mall-ish island with people from anywhere bearing the often industriously grim mark of ‘rich traveler on route to anywhere but here’. I felt uncomfortable in my grubby runners and hand-made orange shawl, carrying embroidered cloth bag – like a night intruder finding herself in a well-lit house full of – other intruders – made me feel insignificant and unwillingly comical. I looked at Josh and the oddities recede into the comfort of my heart love and closest friend.
We speedily breakfasted on Combo A – Western eggs and toast and the flight to Manila deposited us into a busy other world – leaving us almost 9 hours to discover the day transit lounge of the Pilipino airport. We succumbed to a smiling lady, inviting us to the Manila lounge for the overly tempting price of $15US and all the drink/food/comfy couch we can take until boarding time. Stuffing ourselves, napping and watching the little mouse (or two, who knows) catch our breath as it darts under couch to table like a funny sort of phantom – the time passed quickly and our flight to Jakarta went smoothly, depositing us; sore necked, full tummies and curious-filled on this bench.
Travel to Jepara – Same day
Josh’s head rests on blue pillow and my shoulder – the Argo Muria train clacks and weaves over track past fields of flowing green tended by graceful men and women. Their heads covered by traditional wide coned hats– their arms billowing in worn, loose fitting long sleeves. Now we come to the ocean and the waves crash meters below our steady journey. The wind is strong from behind – as if pushing everything along – no one seems to mind. The sun looks hot, the people thin, the land the birthplace of all that is green.
Bali (Jan 19th) –
Here I sit – hot sun boiling my white skin – hot sand sparkling – white waves with glints of turquoise scoop across the horizon. It is the pervasion of trash that bring you back to the moment – to the day’s reality of waste eating into beautiful spaces. The rainy season brings excess dirt and all the trash thrown carelessly to the ocean and the ocean becomes smaller because it is not a deep abyss that can contain the filth of the world. It is a gentle mighty space that still chokes on the litter thrown at it.
We safely maneuvered through train and bus to Jepara for a happy reunion with Cora and Malyssa then spent 3 days in Jepara with Malyssa’s host family – lots of eating, mandi-ing continuously to wash the sweat away and simple communicating with the 6 year old Fiona – Malyssa’s chattery little host sister. Then, Josh, Cora, Malyssa and I hopped aboard the bis malam (overnight bus) at 4pm yesterday from Salatiga (MCC’s Indonesia headquarters). We slept fitfully, got up at 5am when ferried across from Bali to drink kopi susu (coffee with sweet and condensed milk) and watch the sun rise over the islands – salt wet wind humidifying our brains and faces. Three more hours of driving through Bali island to the other side and we arrived to Kuta Beach, Bali. Paradise beach and piña coladas? Not really. Tourism pervades like a disease and everything (of course) costs money. Vendors are sly and cage about like vultures over dying meat. (Maybe this is a bit harsh.) We ate lunch at Aussie-owned “Sheppy Restaurant” near the beach and then Malyssa and I went on a long journey for a simple swimsuit/hat/water. Everything burns fast in this tropical sun.
Josh and Cora scoped out the beach to find garbagey water and no piña coladas to be had. I get frustrated and sit here on the sand –warding off in coming massages and travel trips – firmly and probably rudely – to write but I tell them, “Saya mau membaca buku!” (I want to read my book!) because I have run out of no’s.
Bali (Jan 21st) –
We found a good place by taking a bus from a small tour company that drove us around to the South East side of Bali to a very small coast town hugging the mountain side. Candi Desa; our oasis. Our driver even found us a very sweet collection of cottages to stay at – I wrote this the first morning after we arrived;
Sitting on the upper porch of our cottage looking at a tiny slice of glorious beauty. Waves crash a little way from the stone barrier, created to maintain a safe harbor for small wooden fishing boats and coral pieces hill up beside them – brought in offering by the ocean. To my left, out on the ocean, four rocks jut into the blue sky creating islands resembling craggy pirate ships – a sail boat slides past them in the morning haze. Above my head is a tightly woven grass-thatch roof and small birds dart around, feet in front of my face, feasting on small insects found there. It is a two story cottage, simple wiring just for a couple lamps, and a bathroom with cold water spurting from a clever clay jar that sits in an open part of the roof – blue sky stretches above you as you shower. The water is clean, clear, warm and the harbor creates a perfect swimming pool in the evening when the tide is high. As soon as we arrived we suited up and headed down for a swim – me, terrified to put my feet down in case of biting things – Josh, a contented sea-angel, needing an anchor to keep him from just drifting out into the blue and joining the mermen in their quest for a watery kingdom. As we sat to watch the sun set over the water, an older man shimmied up several of the coconut (hence the name Kelapa) trees and we feasted, with the hotel staff, on fresh coconut.
Jan 22 (Bali, Candi Desa)
We went snorkeling off the side of two rock islands (the ones we can see from our porch). Breathtaking – battling against the current at times – learning how to breath – when not to breath – the deep taste of salt water ever present – snot smeared into the mask (I have a cold). The sharp pinch in the ears when you dive and, for a moment, become part of the world below. The day was blue – our two boatmen, laid-back smiley fellows, directing us away from the rocks and then just hanging out for an hour or two as we learned to maneuver the flippers and masks. We had purchased a German-made-disposable underwater camera and happily snapped pictures of each other and fish – hoping one or two would turn out.
Arriving home ecstatic, we debriefed over our experience in this other world, munching on various snacks and fresh fruit smoothies. Josh and Malyssa – ready to become career fish watchers – detailed the intricate life of these fish; running errands – going next door to visit the neighbor – popping over to the supermarket to pick up some roast beef for Sunday dinner – etc. And of course, the Wiens fascination with poo-ing fish.
Jan 31st (Hong Kong)
A bit of a jump in days before I had a chance to write again;
Sitting at Charlie Brown Café in Kowloon, an area of Hong Kong. So, Hong Kong, a city of sorts – people of all sorts, food of all sorts, etc. It is highly organized – the MTR and buses run with ease and traffic does not appear to be unreasonable. Things are relatively clean and many parks fill the spaces. Mountains – or actually, green and shaggy hills – rise up, breaking thru the sky scraper line and I feel calmer. The city is built with the earth – not against it. Yet, things are still overwhelming to the senses as the sheer amount of advertising and quantity of things ever for sale, haunts your step and slyly follows you saying “good copies, cheap copies, watches, handbags?” Yet, I feel curious and wish to stay and become a HK norm - To explore and find the hidden gems behind the billboards. The rhythm is a delicious enchantment.
To recap our lasts days in Indonesia: Our last day in Candi Desa we packed and left early with our surprisingly young driver (not the older man we had arranged the drive with). We drove through villages on a day of festival all across Bali. Men and women in traditional dress of sarong and collared shirt – beautiful. We passed through the center of Bali on our way to the north – over the top of an old volcano – a nice view but rather unexciting so we left soon after lunch and found our next bus – hot and sunburnt but only slightly out-of-sorts. We ferried back to Java – again sipping cups of steaming hot kopi susu but this time embracing the sun set.
We arrived a bit crumpled to Yogakarta and found a cheap, only slightly moldy, place to stay. Then we set off with only two eager travel guides tagging along who took us to a batik art school. Batik is a traditional cloth dying technique, using wax pens to draw intricate designs. We pleased our guides by purchasing many pieces of artwork for friend and family. After this, we were all a little zonked out by all our night traveling and, by this time, I was suffering from an earache so we found a local pharmacy and paid almost nothing for prescription drugs. The rest of that day was mostly a blue of shopping and feeling bitten, allergic (Josh’s legs were swollen and red with something) and ear achy.
We went to bed rather too late and woke up rather too early in order to head to a sunrise over Borobudor. Borobudor: a massive pyramid like temple to Buddha built many hundreds of years ago (maybe early 1000AD or something). We wandered in constant fear of being photo-ed, asked questions and followed by eager students wanting to meet the white foreigner. We arrived back to Salatiga (MCC headquarters) weary – hurt – dirty. Dan (the country rep) looked at our wounds, helped us understand the washer, invited us to dinner and then took off. Josh and I washed 3 loads of laundry, which helped settle a lot of traveling consternation. The next day Malyssa and Cora left sadly early – leaving Josh and I feeling unsettled and sorrowful. (Goodbyes are so hard!) Finally, after a long day of train travel and a long night of planes we arrived back to Hong Kong, found a nice hostel, tramped to the library and saw the incredibly cheesy over-done HK light show at Victoria harbor and went to sleep.
