Sunday, April 12, 2009
a simple twist of fate
I really don't feel an urgency of any kind to divulge the miserable details of my stolen passport and money, but I would like to share how a potential disaster turned in to a beautiful opportunity to build community. As Dylan would say, it was a simple twist of fate, but it was also a magical cure for my misery. Somewhere between Bukittinggi and Dumai, Sumatra, my little purple bag holding all my valuables was lifted out of a bigger bag (only in there so that I could sleep without wearing it-- sure wish I had kept it on me!). However, I didn't even have much time to mope about my losses (except filling out police report, etc), because two men were suddenly offering Tony and me the sanctuary of their home and school. Mr. Muchsin and one of his former students, who now teaches with him, invited us to exchange room & board for English conversation with the students of the "Grand English Course" training centre (two small classrooms next to Muchsin's small house). Muchsin's goal is to connect his students (of all ages & callings) with native English speaking travelers who happen to be passing through Dumai, and so we ended up spending three days helping students to practice their English. It was a very rewarding experience to be with students who were so eager to learn about our world and to try out their speaking skills with us. Plus, they were all so beautiful! I mean really radiant and pure-hearted. Muchsin and his family were so incredibly warm and welcoming, giving us a room of our own and feeding us meals, tea and snacks, even though his family of six struggles significantly . Tony and I were so taken with the passion Muchsin has for his work, his investment in his students' futures (he believes strongly that English will help them achieve so much more). We really had a very meaningful time being a part of Muchsin's world, and it was quite hard to say good-bye. But alas, I had to fly to Jakarta for an emergency passport (with Tony's cash), while Tony took the ferry to Malaysia. Still, I feel blessed to have a piece of rotten luck turn into such a lovely memory of making connections in Dumai.
The good, bad & smelly....
After leaving Bukit Lawang, we traveled to Brastaghi (also spelled Berrestaghi). From those highlands to our next destination, Bukittinggi, would be a 22 hour bus ride. On line, the ride was dubbed, "the world's worst bus ride", we were determined to ride it out. Yes, it was bad, but I doubt the worst; only two bathroom breaks in a span of 18 hours. The highlight came at 3:30 a.m., just thirty minutes after I finally fell asleep, everyone on the bus must pile out of the bus & walk up a muddy hill in the drizzle so the bus can make an attempt at the hill. From atop the rise I watch as the bus guns it & charges up, up, up. Near the top I watch in agony as the back wheels start to spin & the bus slides sideways. Fortunately there is a wench set up at the top & the bus is pulled the rest of the distance.
Two days into Bukittinggi we meet a mild Muslim woman wearing the traditional head scarf speaking excellent English. She wants to know where we are going, where we are from & if we like coffee? "Yes." we say to the last question. She tells us that she has a business in locally grown Sumatra coffee, but it is not any ordinary coffee, mind you, this stuff has been eaten & digested by wild critters, like civets & monkeys & then pooped out! It is said that the digestive enzymes affect the coffee beans in a most excellent way. I know what you're thinking, who in the blazes would have dreamed up such malarkey to even give it head room to be born as a thought?
So we set the stage for tomorrow to visit this woman's village, Batang Palupuh. A short bus ride out of Bukittinggi delivers us to a idyllic town squeezed into a narrow valley with tall steep rock walls. The coffee beans are located by villages & collected, they are then washed before roasted & pounded. Want to know what it tasted like? Becca or I will tell you if you ask one of us.
That same day, our hostess tells us that the largest flower in the world, Rafflesia arnoldi, is in bloom lucky for us & calls a local guide. Becca & I ride through amazing misty valleys, through small quaint villages & rice fields before embarking on foot up steep slippery slopes. Visions of Bukit Lawang's orangutans come flooding back. After some 40 minutes of hoofing it & stream crossings we head straight up again, low & behold, there is no denying it, this flower looks like something from deep space. It is three & a half feet in diameter & our guide says this is a small one. Nearby are two volleyball size orbs looking like purple cabbage heads waiting 8-9 more months to flower, which lasts seven days before the parasite, with a rotting meat smell to attract pollinators, fades to black. The day teaches us that smelly things are not all bad. TLC
Two days into Bukittinggi we meet a mild Muslim woman wearing the traditional head scarf speaking excellent English. She wants to know where we are going, where we are from & if we like coffee? "Yes." we say to the last question. She tells us that she has a business in locally grown Sumatra coffee, but it is not any ordinary coffee, mind you, this stuff has been eaten & digested by wild critters, like civets & monkeys & then pooped out! It is said that the digestive enzymes affect the coffee beans in a most excellent way. I know what you're thinking, who in the blazes would have dreamed up such malarkey to even give it head room to be born as a thought?
So we set the stage for tomorrow to visit this woman's village, Batang Palupuh. A short bus ride out of Bukittinggi delivers us to a idyllic town squeezed into a narrow valley with tall steep rock walls. The coffee beans are located by villages & collected, they are then washed before roasted & pounded. Want to know what it tasted like? Becca or I will tell you if you ask one of us.
That same day, our hostess tells us that the largest flower in the world, Rafflesia arnoldi, is in bloom lucky for us & calls a local guide. Becca & I ride through amazing misty valleys, through small quaint villages & rice fields before embarking on foot up steep slippery slopes. Visions of Bukit Lawang's orangutans come flooding back. After some 40 minutes of hoofing it & stream crossings we head straight up again, low & behold, there is no denying it, this flower looks like something from deep space. It is three & a half feet in diameter & our guide says this is a small one. Nearby are two volleyball size orbs looking like purple cabbage heads waiting 8-9 more months to flower, which lasts seven days before the parasite, with a rotting meat smell to attract pollinators, fades to black. The day teaches us that smelly things are not all bad. TLC
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Two days in the Sumatran jungle.
Bukit Lawang is a small town at the edge of Gunung Leuser National Park, one of two places in the entire world that is home to Pongo abelii, the Orangutan, Borneo being the other. Bukit Lawang is a small town that is still transforming itself from the heart wrenching flood over five years ago that claimed 300 lives, or one-third of the town's population. Being at the edge of a vast track of protected rain forest on one side with palm & rubber plantations on the other side, everyone you meet in town is either a farmer or a guide. The ramifications are deep, more jobs for people in the trekking industry or the persistent tide of plantations chews at the edge of forest boundaries.
Thomas is a fast talking salesman with a sense of humor & anywhere else in the world he would be selling you your car or home insurance policy, but here in the jungle he is selling himself to take you way out there & get you back the next day in time for dinner.
In the morning we climb up towards the rays of a brilliant yellow sun leaving the rubber trees behind (the trees that are saving the world, not just by their carbon sequestering, but because, well rubbers come from them). At the edge of Gunung Leuser N.P. we come across a Thomas Leaf monkey low enough on its perch to shake hands with. The day wears on, you wouldn't need the steeply intense hills going down & ricocheting back up to sweat due to the humidity, but we have both. The ground is tricky from being wet from last nights rain, the rest is just like you would expect it to be from the movies: the enduring machine-stamina buzzing of cicadas, the wet litter of tree leaves that could cover half your body, vines from high up descending to the ground that Tarzan would trust to swing on, far-off animal calls & the heat.
Orangutan is the Indonesian word for "man of the forest" & by early afternoon we have our first sighting. These orange haired primates have the uncanny appearance of an unshaven person; there is, for me, a certain mirroring-back feeling in their presence. Their climbing agility is beguiling for their size, having the largest arms of all apes, they climb upside down, hanging off a tree trunk sideways, they climb to the ends of branches until the branch bends under their weight sending the orangutan down like riding an elevator. It then grabs onto the branch of a neighboring tree & continues onward like this. When they are not eating fruit or the leaves of the Maas tree, they are breaking apart termite nests in the trees feeding on the winged insects.
At the evening time we sit content in our shelters as rain slams down in large drops. Three ft. long monitor lizards are active at the stream feeding just 15 feet away from where we camp. As we ready ourselves for a well earned sleep, a guide spots a snake slithering through our make shift jungle kitchen, but the thin long dark snake is no ordinary herpetoid, it is more deadly than the king cobra.
By the second day we have had four encounters with orangutans, close enough to reach out & touch, including two mothers with baby in tow. A beautiful ridge network so thin you could go tumbling down either side takes us to a river, lunch & inner tubes that float us back.
Thomas is a fast talking salesman with a sense of humor & anywhere else in the world he would be selling you your car or home insurance policy, but here in the jungle he is selling himself to take you way out there & get you back the next day in time for dinner.
In the morning we climb up towards the rays of a brilliant yellow sun leaving the rubber trees behind (the trees that are saving the world, not just by their carbon sequestering, but because, well rubbers come from them). At the edge of Gunung Leuser N.P. we come across a Thomas Leaf monkey low enough on its perch to shake hands with. The day wears on, you wouldn't need the steeply intense hills going down & ricocheting back up to sweat due to the humidity, but we have both. The ground is tricky from being wet from last nights rain, the rest is just like you would expect it to be from the movies: the enduring machine-stamina buzzing of cicadas, the wet litter of tree leaves that could cover half your body, vines from high up descending to the ground that Tarzan would trust to swing on, far-off animal calls & the heat.
Orangutan is the Indonesian word for "man of the forest" & by early afternoon we have our first sighting. These orange haired primates have the uncanny appearance of an unshaven person; there is, for me, a certain mirroring-back feeling in their presence. Their climbing agility is beguiling for their size, having the largest arms of all apes, they climb upside down, hanging off a tree trunk sideways, they climb to the ends of branches until the branch bends under their weight sending the orangutan down like riding an elevator. It then grabs onto the branch of a neighboring tree & continues onward like this. When they are not eating fruit or the leaves of the Maas tree, they are breaking apart termite nests in the trees feeding on the winged insects.
At the evening time we sit content in our shelters as rain slams down in large drops. Three ft. long monitor lizards are active at the stream feeding just 15 feet away from where we camp. As we ready ourselves for a well earned sleep, a guide spots a snake slithering through our make shift jungle kitchen, but the thin long dark snake is no ordinary herpetoid, it is more deadly than the king cobra.
By the second day we have had four encounters with orangutans, close enough to reach out & touch, including two mothers with baby in tow. A beautiful ridge network so thin you could go tumbling down either side takes us to a river, lunch & inner tubes that float us back.
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