Ujung Pandang
Arrived in Ujung Pandang.
On the way out of the airport, I met a couple of tourists who, like me, were trying to get a ride into town.
Dave and Julie and I got into a minibus and rode into town.
Eventually all four of us ended up traveling together (see photo, taken later in Rantepao).
Arrived in Ujung Pandang. I had this piece of paper from months before, when Greg and I agreed, at a party, to meet at this place he'd found in one of his guidebooks. The "Legend" hostel, in Ujung Pandang, is probably the cheapest place to stay, but it's still in the middle of things and is kindof homey, if you're not into niceties. (You take your shoes off on the first floor.) Meet at 8pm, in the bar or pub, there's got to be a bar or restaurant or something. Just meet me there. Somehow Greg seemed to pooh pooh the exact time.
That was at a party, still in the US. Now teleport six months later and I fly into this city Ujung Pandang.
Me and Dave and Julie all ended up staying at the Legend, the place I was supposed to meet Greg, just because it seemed like a simple thing to do. Once I'd gotten a little settled, I figured, ok, I'm supposed to meet Greg. How do I go about doing that? I bet they have a bulletin board here.
Sure enough they did. I went there. Blue note saying "Allan Bonadio". Can't miss that. It was Greg. It said "go upstair to the roof."
I went upstairs to the roof. There he was, sitting in the shade, reading a book. He was reading War and Peace. No shit, the whole book. Tucked under his arm.
You see when you're traveling, you end up waiting. Especially in a third world country. So it's good to have a book to read. And greg is an avid reader.
Post Office
The next task was to go to the post office. I had to send some stuff home - periodically it's a good idea, so you don't end up carrying all this stuff around with you all the time. Rolls of film, notes, receipts (i'm a packrat), guidebooks for places you've already been to and won't go back to, clothes that don't suit you out here but back home you could use them...So here they didn't sell a box in the post office as in most places. Cheap labor, not cheap manufacturing. Instead there were small stalls set up in front of the post office. They sell bubble packs, boxes, wrapping materials, string. Much of it seemed "recycled" - heck, bubble packs can be used more than once before you throw it away, what the heck. We went from one to another. My stuff seemed a bit too big for the biggest bubblepack, but a bit too small for the smallest box.
This woman, she could do it. She started with a box. Well it wasn't a box, she took a box and chopped off part and bent around the rest to make... a smaller box. OK. Then she kindof wrapped it around with lots of paper. She ended up with this paper package, it was solid, and sturdy, and it had everything in it because we watched her pack it. The kind of thing you might do at home if you didn't have the right size box but took a bigger box and ripped off a piece and then you...
She charged me some money. I can't remember how much. When you watch someone work for you like that, you just pay them whatever they say as long as it's not outrageous.
Keep in mind that all of this is done without English. This is not a tourist zone so they know very little english and we're all winging it. And Greg and I know words like Big and Small and Expensive and How much does it cost? and numbers and Yes and No and Bad and Good. It's a bit tricky. "Ah! Good, Good! Bagus, Bagus! Thank you! Terema Kasih!"
Then we go into the post office. Pretty typical with many windows, each numbered, each with an explaination of what that particular window does.
In Indonesian. Somehow I never ended up learning those particular words. Anyway, we ask around. Parcel parcel. Go there. Clear past the last window in the whole post office. Go behind the counters. Yeah, go there, keep going.
I'm like going where the postal employees are supposed to be going. Greg! What are they saying to me?!?!?!?!?
Greg is back in the lobby, waiting for me to finish my errand. He knows it'll get done eventually. He's sitting there reading War and Peace. Probably snickering every so often at what I was probably going through.
Parcel? I'm saying it by holding up my package and showing it to people, then pointing in the direction I think I should be going. Maybe I say some english, I can't remember. They nod yes, and reaffirm the direction with a finger. No words. I'm in a post office, obviously I'm trying to mail something, and I'm obviously not from around here so they figure it out.
So I get to a guy with a desk. In times past when I needed to send a package, say from Singapore or Hong Kong, I need to fill out a separate form, listing all the information that's on the front of the package already, plus a list of contents, plus, I dunno, other personal details. He gives me that form. I guess what blanks mean what. Hey, it's in indonesian, the whole form is in indonesia, what to enter where, about a quarter of the words make sense. But as in any post office, they need the same kinds of info. Look at the boxes, they'll give you a clue as to which box is what and what you should write in them. So if you know the indonesian word for "shirt" certainly use it. But if you don't, you just say "shirt" in Bahasa Ingerris (=the english language). The less they know, the more they are intimidated, the better, I figure. I dunno.
This is not like Bali, where most people are exposed to tourists, almost all of which speak some English.
"Kustum" he said pointing. Customs. Go that way. I have to do something with the customs department. I wander further into the post office, to a large breezeway. I ask "Custom Custom" and people direct me to a door with glass in it, like an old office building in the states from the fifties. Inside the man somehow can deal with the communication gap. He's seen it all before. Americans sending back junk. He says some things, I nod, he rubber stamps some papers I give him, and he gives me back a wad of papers that's similar to the wad I handed to him. Back to the parcel guy. I don't know how this was communicated, it just was. I think I guessed, that's what it is. And the more confidence you have, the less people notice, even if you totally goof up.
The parcel guy is happy. I must have done the right thing. He weighs it and applies postage. Now in the states there would be a sticker with red ink on it from a machine, with a printed postage marquis for whatever the exact dollars and cents amount was. Nope, not here. The guy takes out these big sheets of stamps, and ripps off huge blocks of them. He takes some spongy applicator and gets the backs all wet, then he sticks them on the package, using up pretty much all the space on the front that's not taken up by addresses. Above, where the stamps are supposed to go is the biggest block, but he sticks more below the address. When I get the package back home, I count 19 stamps total.
And off it goes! He tosses it further back in his cubicle, implying that it's on its way. Hey don't i get a receipt? I catch his attention. I make a gesture like I do in a restaurant and I want the cheque. Writing on a piece of paper.
Oh yeah! He knowingly grabs the box back, and takes out a cancellation rubber stamp, and cancels all the stamps right then and there. (Apparently there's a problem with postal employees just lifting uncanceled stamps off of packages.) No no no, well, thanks. But I was talking about a receipt. A piece of paper, I try to signal with my hands.
Oh oh, yeah, right here. He grabs a piece of paper that was part of the fallout from this particular episode of paper shuffling, yeah, that looks like it. A receipt. That probably says that I gave you a box with all this important stuff in it. In indonesian, maybe. Well, whatever, bon voyage.
Garuda
Next I went to the Garuda Airline office in Ujung Pandang. All of this was walking distance from the Legend Hostel. Well, including crossing the streets, which I'd learned to do in Saigon. I had to change some plane reservations. They ended up being problematic. This is an email I sent to my friend a half month later, after I had come back from Sulawesi:July 18
I don't even have that much control over some parts of my travel. Every time I want to make a change I have to pay some travel agent to keep calling the airline until someone answers. They have to call like a half dozen times or more until they get a line. It's not like american companies. Once I went in to the airline office in Ujung Pandang, actually went to their office. It took hours, just to make two changes. Would have taken ten or fifteen minutes in the US. I would talk to the desk and then go and have a seat and take a nap. Then a half hour later talk to them again and then go back and have another nap. Greg got sick of waiting and went off to do something else. Probably have a beer. Just recently I got the word that my Jakarta-LA flight is reserved. I'm certainly coming home on the 30th. I was afraid that maybe I'd end up stuck here until there's some cancellation or something. It's the high season, could have taken days. So you can't even enjoy that time because you're always supposed to be prepared to go if an opening comes up. At least I'm getting as far as LA. I think I land there 10pm. My reservation for the last leg, LA-SF, was with United so nobody here could contact them. But they have these flights a lot so probably i'll be home by midnight on the 30th or like 1 or 2am on the 31st. I'll phone you with a more exact time when I get it. That might be the evening before - is that right? yuck i'll be on the plane for a long time. Might be late that night - maybe I should leave the mesage on your work phone? Is it ok if I leavea message on your and diane's phone really late with the info? Not sure how this'll work. I gave up trying to make more changes. That's why I'm staying in bali for this last week and a half. Just easier.
Traveling Sulawesi
The next day we all went north, spent four days in Torajaland. Hmmm... this photo doesn't do it justice.
Then we spent three days in the Lake Poso area,
Then finally nine days on the
Togian Islands.
Life was probably as rustic as it'll be this entire trip. In the
Togians, I had a beach front bungalo. That's the good news. The bad
news is that the food was really really limited. I'm not going to eat
fish for a week. I'm only reluctantly eating rice. A 3rd world
experience.
The ferry north from the togians only ran once a week. Yep. They had
another ferry, but it sank. Just sank. We ran into this danish guy who
talked to some Danes that were on the boat when it sank.
Maybe a year or two ago.
Apparently
only three local children died. But imagine all of your luggage getting
soaked, and some of it getting lost forever.
That's where greg and I split up. He had to go (with a tourist visa you
can stay in intonesia for only 60 days). So he stayed 2 days, I stayed
9 days. It was very relaxing after sitting in busses for days.
The ferry north was an experience. It was an overnight ferry. I had a
reservation for a cabin bunk, but at the last minute I decided
(everybody told me) that it would be hot and stuffy. And I knew I
wouldn't sleep much. And boy the stars were beautiful that nite.
Whenever I go camping, I love to sleep under the stars. Sure it's
terrible when it rains; I never do it when it rains. Well, once in
Wyoming I did it when it
was drizzling...
The stars were beautiful. Very few shooting stars. But I saw 3 or 4
satellites, can't remember... it got late. Once I saw two at once,
they almost crossed in the sky.
So I decided to sleep under the stars, on the roof of the boat. There
were more than a half dozen other people up there too, and people strewn
all over every square foot of floor space, a boat like that.
I knew a Dutch couple who were pretty experienced travelers.
They got a piece of floor inside on the top floor (one below the roof).
He explained how he started out with just enough for his buns,
and then over time, people move around, not everybody hangs out in
their claimed space, you ooze into enough space for yourself to lie down
for the nite.
He didn't use the word "buns", I can't remember what he said.
I considered sleeping on the floor near this couple, but I had a cabin.
I spent all this time debating back and forth.
We were on the boat for hours before I had to make a decision.
The roof looked appealing, open air...
Well, on one of those trips I saw a tall American with dreadlocks -
it was Dave! He had been staying
on a different island, and now we were picking him up with his wife Julie.
Somehow he ended up on exactly the same boat as
me. Well, there was only one boat per week, after all.
The tourists in this part of the world were so thin you could
count them individually because all of them were on
the same boat as you were.
The three of us decided to sleep on the roof of the boat.
It's pretty much, roofing materal, with a few big things
sticking out, like a fenced off area. There was no fence keeping us
from rolling off the roof clean out into the water four stories below.
Well it got a bit more rocky and windy that
I anticipated.
In the middle of the roof there was a small area fenced off with strong
pipe guardrails. I took my pack (two pieces - like two backpacks) and
looped a sholder strap from each of them into this guardrail on the roof
of the boat. So that even if the boat tipped a lot they wouldn't come
off. Then I took my towel (which was what I was lying on) and my
inflatable pillow and tied them all with a piece of rope I have, the
only piece, I've gotten a lot of use out of it. So they were all
tethered together, and that was good because if I just got up and walked
away they'd start blowing away.
It was very tricky.
The boat left the port a few hours before sunset.
It took until well after midnight to get away from the Togian Islands themselves.
I remember one town they stayed in from 12 midnight all the way to 2am.
All in the same port. I was going crazy.
I couldn't sleep so I just watched these guys unloading big sacks of something,
probably rice or something in these big burlap bags.
and then loading on a bunch of big sacks.
Two hours.
Finally we were off again.
The night air was fabulous.
I could stand up on the roof of the boat, like it was a huge surf board,
wind in my hair, litterally.
The boat was moving quickly to scare up a wind, but this was basically
on the equator so it was refreshing to be cooled off like this.
I saw aa number of flying fish, just sailing along
beside the boat.
It was thrilling.
I wished that my camera could have taken moonlight pictures,
but I knew better.
On the other hand, the bucking of the boat was hard to handle.
A lot of people were getting sick on the boat.
I woke up in the morning, and I'd spent the nite just one meter
away from the edge. no guardrail, no nothing.
The more the boat bucks, the
less you feel like walking close to the edge.
Suddenly I woke up and the sun was up and it was bright.
The boat was still cruizing full speed ahead.
I got up and started wandering around the boat.
I could walk to the front of the boat, that seemed
to be the nicest place to stay.
We were supposed to get there in the early morning, but you know
everyone you talk to has a different story. We ended up getting there
about 1pm. People were getting seasick. I kept concentrating on the
horizon. Whew.
I had wanted to spend time in Manado, some volcanos and stuff, but I
couldn't change my plane reservation. I flew out the next day. Today.
Now I'm back in Bali, which is good because it has services I
desperately need, like laundry, banks, stores, etc.
The Gorontalo Boat
At the time I was trying to get some beer.
The togians have a dozen places thick enough to be called "towns"
and this boat visited many of them on its northeasterly.
I went out at a lot of them hoping to find some place open
to buy some bottles of beer.
I'd ask somebody how long the boat was going to remain
docked and then I'd go out for maybe half that amount of time.
And always be careful - they WILL start the boat without me.
The thought of existing without my pack and stuff was pretty scary,
as it was jumping off the boat in towns I'd never been in before,
but it was no big deal.
email with Pete
> Have you had some exciting bus adventures? Like - a study in going slow for
> survival's sake?
i've got a rrentacar now.
The most packed bus I was on was a bemo in Sulawesi. It's minivan
sized. There was 18 people in it. I couldn't even see two of them;
children hidden behind something else. There was luggage too. In the
states you'd fit 9 people in and "all the seats would be full".
> Hey - can you get a cup of coffee in Sulawesi? Is it good? (Is there some
> place called Kalosi around there?)
yeah every day for breakfast. Somebody described it however as "cowboy
style". THe cool coffee is saved for export. The locals drink shit.
But at Moma Siska's place she was growing her own coffee and stuff,
drying it herself. But there ain't no espresso machine, there ain't no
electricity or running water either.
You're drinking the best coffee available.
> Does Sulawesi mean south west somehow?
nope. not that easy. Lonely Planet says:
sula (island) besi (iron). Well my Malay dictionary said that "sula" is
a stake, but besi is in fact iron. It's probably from some local
language on the island, probably the Bugis, they traveled a lot on
boats. Boogie men. "Island" is "Pulau" in indonesian/malay.
...
I guess these days i don't have many frustrations. Traffic in some
places here can drive you upa wall though. Yesterday this truck
wouldn't let me pass. The excuse was that the road had potholes so he
was drifting to the right all the time. I did'nt pass him till he got
to where he was going.
> For instance, I thought about the 2 to 4 second interval between cars
> thing... and for the most part - you could not get all the cars on the
> highway at once if everyone adhered to that standard!
not everybody drives at once. Except maybe rush hour. I just try to
avoid it.
> Therefore, my question must be: HOW CROWDED is it there??? The bus
> situation sounds heavy. The stuff in the middle of Sulawesi sounds really
> cool (I have a Sulawesi coffee sticker on the front of my computer!)
Sulawesi is not coffee. Just like california is not surfing.
How crowded. Depends: indonesians? Tourists?
If you want to get away from tourists, you have to invest a lot of time
and effort riding busses on rugged roads to get to simple villiages.
Once you get there, you're ok, but you still need supplies from the
outside world. The more you are willing to put up with, the more
tourists you'll eliminate. Just like backpakcing in the sierras.
To get away from indonesians and other natives, you have to go to really
inhospitable places. Where there's no freshwater. Yeesh. But lots of
places the indonesians are sparse. The countryside. There's some
places in Bali like that. Just look for the roads with lots of
potholes.
> I've seen pictures of coral reef - it is beautiful!
realy is
This guy had a field guide to all the lifeforms. There was 25 chapters,
on on each kind. one chapter was on 'plants'. One was on 'fish'. Two
or three were devoted to corals. One was devoted to starfish. But
every other chapter was on a differnt KIND of lifeform. Amazing.
>Actually there is a
> picture on my wall that probably looks vaguely like some of the places
> you've been (of course, I can only guess!)
it's just like the pictures. except it's moving right in front of your
face.
>Must be incredible! Do you get
> really close to the fishies in the water?
if you try to touch them they swim away, but they're swimming all around
you. Whole schols swim by.
>Are they afraid of the big human?
Some of them are, but you'd be surprised. They have good evasion
mechanisms; they do ok.
> Or do they not even notice you?
They notice if they're not fast swimmers. They get away or crawl into
someplace.
>Have you seen any Dolphins?
dolphins or porposes. not sure. Just from afar.
> Do you have a camera??? will you bring us pictures???
i was using a disposable until I found myself going through about five
per week. Now I have a cheap 35mm, and get disposeables for special
purposes like the underwater one.
>it was a cool
> postcard - Wendy and I got a laugh out of it (hoping you really were
> enjoying the 'life in a collander' effect!)
I've sent dozens of postcards so far. I got two to mail today. I've
sent three to you alone.
> Have a great time! and I'll look forward to hearing all about it when you
> get back!
i'll work on my website.
> ps - the software industry is still here. bill is still evil. intel is
> still evil. Apple is still alive. Tim still sends abherrant emails asking
> weird questions about pc abuse once a year. CA is not bankrupt. Oh yeah -
> and it is still foggy in the sunset...
good
>I look out there everynow and then
> and think - gee somewhere on the other side of this little Pond (and a fair
> bit south?) Allan is adventuring in the great wilds of the other half of the
> known universe! Have fun!
fuckin 8 timezones away. Thanks! See you in August!
email with Gingrich
John Gingrich wrote:
>
> Allan,
>
> >>we don need no stinkin sanitation
> Yes, but jew do need sum stinkin' matches -- to light the smokin' fire to
> guard against the stinkin' sanitation problems.
it's amazing. I've never had to boil anything myself. They boil
drinking water (more often you get served tea) or else you buy a bottle
of water.
Other sanitation problems, .... I haven't gotten sick yet. (except that
one time...)
> You have taken me on a marvelous journey with your recitation of the steamy
> jungle, the people, the smells, the sights, the food. Very cool! 'C'aint
> wait for your web site rendition.
that's what I want to do withthe website. Take people there. I'm
having fun, i spent time thinking about how I'm gonna write all this
up. I'm gonna talk about stuff that is maybe uncomfortable. That's
part of the experience.
> What illicit things have you been offered on your travels?
sex
drugs
littering
scuba diving below 30 meters
last night I think I was in a sortof gay district. This guy tried to
lead me into a construction site at nite. I was looking for "bir
bintang" - the local brand of beer is "Bintang" which means "star".
Maybe it really was a shortcut but I walked away and wouldn't look
back. One of the few times I was really afraid in indonesia. These
people are really friendly.
>How much longer
> will you be there?
I think two weeks. Things are a bit upm in the air though. It's
tourist season and most flighyts are booked solid.
>What emotional states have been floating through your
> psyche (typical shrink question, but I'm interested in what you're feeling
> as you travel the exotic lands)?
funny you ask that... I've been trying to get myself to feel more. So I
didn't bring along a book. When it's 2am and the ferry is sitting in
the doc for yet another hour, and these guys are unloading rice, I just
watch them. And I be with myself. Maybe I haven't done that enough.
I feel a lot of frustration. I just went the last 3 weeks without going
to a bank to get extra cash. Today was Mohammed's birthday and it was
the first day I was back and all the friggin banks were closed. I was
pissed. Fortunately in the airport, this one banc machine finally
worked and now I have cash. Shit, I was down to about 35,000 rupiahs,
what's that like $12? My hotel last night cost 33,000. stupid, I
should have gotten the room for 22,000 but I was so sick of the place on
the islands I just wanted a nice place to relax. It's usually pretty
easy to get a place for 10,000 or 15,000.
One place greg and i stayed was 5,000 rups a night - that's like two
bucks! We each had our own room, nice sized room, shared bath but each
of us had nobody to share with.
The beach bungalo cost like $7/day, 3 meals included. But the meals
were like rice, fish and vegetables. Healthy, yes. But pretty
monotonous. And often the fish was like one or two whole dead fish,
just cooked up, with the head and stuff.
> More, write more, take me away from my ordinary life, take me to SE Asia!
it's not all nice. You ever go to the bathroom in a mandi? I got used
to it. Imagine no running water. You have a tub, that's your water
supply. The mandi. And there's a dipper to dish out the water with.
Next to it is a squat toilet. NO flush, you just take dipperfuls of
water and pour it down the drain. And in front is a floor, drainage at
the lowest point. To take a shower, pour dipperfuls over yourself. Hot
water? hahaha. It's so fuckin hot here, the cold water is refreshing.
In some places, the water is kindof hazy, kind of silty. Not unclean,
just... well you never drink mandi water. You buy bottled water. How
much... 1500 rups for 1.5 liters, that's about 60c.
Pat Ford, July 18
To: Patrick Ford
A Forest Man. No, I guess this is a baboon.