Dwellings on Sumba

Journal Entry 29

February 17th, 2004

"A March Towards Independence"

 

I believe I left off on/around Christmas Day, in Ubud, Bali. Five days later I left that chaotic little island, alone again, and rushed across to Gili Air, the island where I spent a week near the very beginning of my trip. I arrived there on New Year's Eve. It was a relaxing afternoon and evening, and I was asleep by 10pm, peaceful, just how I wanted it. Perfect!

I think I was the first person awake on the island and immediately I began to make my way across Nusa Tenggara, the (little-visited) Indonesian province consisting of all the islands east of Bali. 48 hrs later, I had crossed the islands of Lombok and Sumbawa and half of Flores via a barrage of boats, buses, and ferries.

My aim at visiting this region of Indonesia was to complete more bits and pieces that I left out my first time around. I started in Bajawa on Flores. At and near this mountain village, I ate lots of passionfruit and did some walks to hot springs and some interesting traditional villages. Here, they consist of two rows of thatch-roofed wooden huts, ornamented with human figures on top and pig jaws and bull horns on the front porch. A dirt patch separates the two rows, and this common area is littered with little spirit-house things and monolith gravestones.

I managed to hit one of these villages, Wogo, on the day coinciding with Reba, their 3-day yearly new-year festival. There's nowhere to stay there, but on the bus ride there (thanks to my improving Indonesian language skills) I already had more than one invitation to stay with families there. I ended up in the chief's house and was kind of adopted into the village.

It was fun watching (ethnic Ngada) people come down from the hills with baskets of rice and chickens and tuak (rice wine) and vegetables to contribute to the celebration. Kitchens were alive with giant cauldrons of rice burning over fires on the dirt floors. Some of the old people danced. Voices carried and children played. Magic! By the time I left at 3pm the next day, I had eaten 6 meals just that day, as it's a bit rude to refuse when you're invited into a house to eat. It's almost embarrassing when people with so little are so hospitable and kind!

From Flores, I ferried to the island of Sumba. After a night in Waingapu, its quiet capital city, I headed west to Waikabubak. Kind of a dump, but I grew to like it as I used it as a base to travel around the area. I went for long walks to villages...in one children gathered and shouted, "putih, putih!" ("white, white!"). Again, the villages here are very unique. They are built on hilltops...

In this bumpy region of the island, every little ridge seems to have steep-roofed huts built on it, protruding from the surrounding trees. And I mean steep-roofed, pointed like witch's hats! The houses are decorated with buffalo horns, and huge stone graves with carvings of buffalo litter the villages. Houses are still built like they always have been...many brand-new ones look exactly as rickety and old as all the others!

In this region, I learned to chew "siring pinang" with villagers, which is the Nusa Tenggaran version of Asia's obsession with betel nut. You chew bits of betel (pinang) and then dip siring (a plant) into lime powder. And chew a lot. You get a buzz and your spit turns blood red.

I moved on to the island's west coast and stayed with the village chief in Ratenggaro. Here, instead of on hills, the villages were scattered near the coast. And since every sunset in this part of the country is absolutely clear and brilliant, it was a picture-perfect place (albeit quite hot and my meals consisted of plain rice and plain noodles and dirty water).

Final stop on the island was Pero, a small Muslim fishing village. It is a beautiful little place with a small turquoise natural harbour and an end-of-the-world feel. Postcard material. And completely devoid of people. Angel caught up to me here (by surprise!) and we had three nice days of markets (including someone hauling a huge live sea turtle on top of our bemo [public transport van]) and sunsets and mediocre food before parting ways again. Definitely a unique culture here, people wearing long woven sarongs (most men as well) and headbands and teeth stained red by betel-chewing.

Another long two days brought me to the island of Timor by bus and (30 hrs and two more sunsets) by ferry. In Kupang, the capital of West (Indonesian) Timor, I reunited with Chris, who I'd first met in Brunei back in November.

We marched off to Soe, up in the hills of rugged Timor, and did a long hot hilly hike to the isolated village of Boti. This place still has a king, a 90-yr-old (or so) dude who's a bit cranky but not so bad. He forbids new religion and only wants homespun (from locally-grown cotton) traditional clothes (sarongs and shirts) to be worn there. Married men grow their hair long and wear it in a bun. Women weave and spin cotton by hand. The villagers dance in the evenings. The food is good. A wonderful two days spent there, treated like royalty ourselves.

The buildings in this area, and throughout much of West Timor's hill country, are quite small and look like beehives (or a bit like 'Cousin It' on the old black-and-white 'Addams Family') with thatched roofs. After leaving Boti, we skipped across the rest of the Indonesian side of the island, and crossed into the world's newest country: East Timor--born on May 20, 2002.

The ride to the capital of Dili was a stunning drive along a breathtaking coast. On the edge of Dili, we met the world's dumbest taxi drivers. They want us to taxi into town, and tell us it's 1km. Well, obviously if it's only a kilometer we'll walk. But it wasn't such a good idea maybe cause it turned out to be 10km. A hot 10km. But we randomly stopped by a makeshift coffee-grinding "factory" en route, and talked to some nice people, and ultimately got picked up by an Australian expat who showed us to a nice cheap place to stay, so like always, things work out.

Dili. The UN presence, though apparently only a shadow of what it used to be, was still very evident. Western money and restaurants and services mix with a quite poor Indonesian-style city. Weird. The official currency of East Timor is the US dollar, so it was quite trippy to go to an ATM and get US cash out. And spend it directly. Only a month or two before, they started distribute their own new coins to replace US quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies.

I had a thorough gorging at an Italian buffet that left me reeling for a day. We bought granola and sugar and bananas and real milk and ate it and the girls at our hotel thought it was weird and disgusting and didn't see how Westerners could have this for breakfast every day!!! This from people who eat rice and vegetables thrice daily their whole lives. I can only shake my head.

People think East Timor's dangerous still, so there's no tourists there. Everywhere, people asked, "Are you a reporter?" and "Where do you work?". The only people who travel seem to be UN weekenders, which makes it pretty expensive for those of us not on a Western salary. Because of this, after leaving Dili, we spent a night in a church, a night on a shop floor, a few nights camping on the beach, and a night in a closed hotel. But I get ahead of myself.

First stop was Maubisse, a sickening ride (especially when still recovering from aforementioned Italian buffet) up to the cool hills. One hotel. $65. Ha. Visit the church. Better. Night. Cold. Wild barking dogs. A crazy woman. People talking Portuguese (former colony before Indonesia took it before it voted for independence in 1999). Strange.

Anyway, cool market there on Sundays. Hill people everywhere in the world are unique. These were no exception. Don't know how to describe 'em, so I won't.

Moved across to east end of the country, getting stuck halfway, in Baucau, when there was no more public transport running. 11pm. A nice guy let us sleep on a sheet of cardboard on the floor of his 2m x 3m (6' x 10') little kiosk selling soap and snacks and smokes. Nice guy.

Ended up in Tutuola, east tip of the island, and walked 8km down to Valo beach, where we set up camp on an isolated stretch for three days. What a setup we had! We hailed down fisherman every afternoon and bought fresh fish from them and cooked them over fire and stones. Ideal. Read, nap, write, study hermit crabs and pull them out of shells and see if they'll accept other shells, learn that if you stare at a bit of blue sky long enough you start to see swirls and shapes of little bacteria on the surface of your eyes, read, nap, write, walk, snorkel at high tide, watch sunset. Life is good. Only downer to report was that I think a dog stole our ketchup one night.

Last new stop in East Timor was the town of Los Palos. Looked a bit like the war just left: bombed-out, cracked, roofless, pastel-colored buildings. A dismal-yet-energetic little place with a definite BROKEN feel. Stayed in an old hotel that seemed maybe open and convinced them to halve the price for us because we don't have jobs or much money.

Then back to Dili for one more day of living it up. Splurged on a huge Portuguese meal at a restaurant where the Cesar, the manager, took pity on our poor souls and gave us lots of free stuff (we didn't ask, but he could tell this was a big splurge for us anyway!). What a guy.

Notes on East Timor:

Good bread. They bake it right, without sugar. Indonesians haven't figured that one out yet.

Abstract thought. An abstract concept. If you're in Dili, don't ask about a bus from Baucau to Los Palos for tomorrow morning. There isn't one. Why? Cause we're in Dili, of course there's not a bus from Baucau from Dili. And it's today, not tomorrow morning. This probably makes no sense. It had to be experienced. Dimness at its brightest.

Notes on Indonesia:

Worst food ever, if you take into consideration the resources at hand. These are the fabled "spice islands". Use them. Boring food is excuseable in Mongolia and Tibet. They don't have shit there. It's not excuseable in a tropical country with every animal and plant under the sun. Be creative!

Travel in Indonesian is hard. Life is dictated by ferry schedules. There is no quick way from A to B. It's never "how many hours?" It's "how many days?" Whatever the mode of transport, a saying goes, "If you're deaf, don't worry, you'll hear it. If you're not, don't worry, you soon will be." This of course in regards to the volume of music. Everyone smokes (but me). A man who doesn't smoke is obviously a social outcast. My back and lungs and hearing are probably a nightmare.

A constant theme for me in Indonesia was to be on a ferry, alone, leaning against a railing as the sun set, and wondering what I'm doing. Sounds melancholy, but I like that.

So many of the places covered in this update didn't have electricity. Stepping back in time. Unique. So many different cultures and ways of dress and languages (often Indonesian not even spoken).

My Indonesian was quite good at the end. I'd probably count it as my third language now. Nice to experience an Asian country in its own language. Opens lots of doors.

I don't even like Indonesia that much. But man, it's entrancing. It's a land where there's always something right around the corner. I love it, but not really. I think.

And finally:

This update covers about five weeks. Besides Angel and Chris, my travel partners, I met three tourists on Flores, none on Sumbawa, none on Sumba, none in West Timor, and none in East Timor. I like that.

That's all. I left East Timor on January 31, bound for the biggest island I've ever been on. It's been a strange and wonderful place. My next update will include details from my life and continuing adventures in this giant land.

"Life appeared to me too common-place an affair as regarded myself. I could not figure to myself that romantic woes or wonderful events would ever be my lot..." (-Mary Shelley)

 


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