Saturday, October 21, 2006

The Return Home

Now that I’ve written about driving to Sumbawa, this is the way that I get back (as my wife and kids usually stay on for a week or two after I’ve had to return to work). I’m actually leaving in the morning, but I’ve done this trip a number of times before so I expect it to be somewhat the same.

3:30 A.M Get my wife, the kids, and the nephews and nieces up for morning breakfast before another day of fasting. Have some cereal and toast. Because I’m leaving soon, I have some coffee along with the usual apple juice and water. My eldest daughter asks why I’m leaving before Lebaran (she asks this question everyday for some reason that escapes me and probably her as well). I take a quick shower after I eat. I have my backpack ready with all the work that I’ve brought with me – who ever said that teachers have easy jobs? We tend to spend most of our working life grading papers and getting ready for a new term.

4:30 A.M. The kids and sisters and brothers in law are waiting by the car to say good-bye. Two of the brothers-in-law are driving me down to the airport, and they are ready to go. We take off into the early morning. Singaraja is nice and cool at this time of the morning. I keep thinking about what could possibly go wrong when we reach the airport. The last time that I did this, Merpati cancelled the flight to Mataram, but got me in on a Lion Air flight. Indonesian air travel is always problematic.

6:45 A.M. We reach the airport. I thank my brothers-in-law and tell them that I’ll see them again in December when I have my next break. I check around the airport which seems to change everytime that I come here. They’ve moved the entrance to the domestic terminal some. I quickly slip into an interlude of years ago when the oldest kids were still toddlers and we would arrive at the airport with grandma in tow along with several other relatives and all of our suitcases. Good memories because I’m on my own and don’t have to worry about the kids, and thus I can idealize what was always a stressful experience. (We were flying back to Papua in those days and the early morning check-in was just the prelude to a full day of travel with the little ones getting tired as we moved from one island to the next on the old milk run of Merpati from Denpasar to Timika.)

7:00 A.M. Waiting in line to check-in, I spot the usual list of characters: the Indonesian businessmen, the Euro backpackers on their way to Sengiggi, some Balinese families who live in Lombok and are returning from family ceremonies in Bali, and two overweight foreigners who sound like they are American, but are rapidly discussing business deals in a southern drawl.

7:45 A.M. Sitting around the waiting room with a boarding pass, I have an intense desire to have a cigarette, but push it away as I’m planning on keeping my fast even though technically since I’m traveling, I’m exempt.

8:15 A.M. The plane is off and crossing the straight. I’ll be in Mataram soon and then the real adventure starts. The plane is full and everyone seems in great spirits except for me as I keep thinking that I wish Scotty could beam me up and put me down at The Farm in Sumbawa posthaste.

8:35 A.M. I enter the arrival terminal in Mataram and as I have no luggage I tell the guys waiting to grab my baggage that I have none. A fellow from the Executive Lounge who I know slightly asks me if I’m taking the seaplane back to Sumbawa. No, I reply wearily, I’m traveling overland to Kayangan and then the public ferry. He’s seen this before so he just laughs and shakes my hand.

8:40 A.M. I go to the taxi stand and pay for a taxi to the harbor across the island. The price has gone up again, and I have this fleeting feeling that I’m pampering myself by not taking the bus, but the extra twenty bucks is worth it at this point. I find my taxi and tell the driver not to take me to the Newmont ferry but to the public one. We have a short exchange about why I’m not taking the Newmont ferry which is free and fast. Somehow, Newmont people stand out, even though I technically work for a yayasan, but I’m too tired and thirsty to explain the difference in detail.

11:00 A.M. We’ve reached the harbor and had a nice conversation while driving across the island. I give the driver a tip (once upon a time, many years ago, I was a taxi driver in Chicago so I always give drivers tips), and am immediately surrounded by folks wanting to sell me a ticket for the ferry. I pick out the guy who I know actually sells tickets and ask if there are any free seats on the bus going to Sekongkang or Maluk. He tells me that they’re full but if I wait for another hour, the bus going to Sekongkang will arrive and I might be able to get a seat there. I’m feeling slightly giddy from the fasting now and decline. I tell him that I’ll take an ojek at the harbor.

1:15 P.M. The ferry docks and I wander off having spent two hours thinking about the travel possibilities ahead: will there be an ojek available? How far will he take me? How much will he want? There’s no set price here, and I’ve paid wildly different amounts in the past decreasing each time as I get to know the system. I stand in the parking area looking somewhat lost and confused – it’s a good way to get someone to notice me. A driver shows up and asks, “You go where.” Sekongkang! Always a good response because it generally shocks most of the drivers to hear a foreigner tell them that they want to go to Sekongkang in Indonesian. He tells me that he can only take me as far as Taliwang because he’ll get beat up by the Taliwang ojek drivers if he goes through with me as a passenger. Ah, turf wars, I exclaim. No problem, just get me to Taliwang.
2:00 P.M. We reach Taliwang after a somewhat hazardous drive on his old beat up Honda. The driver, Pak Achmed, keeps up a steady flow of conversation, most of which I can’t hear, but I can tell when he’s finished with his monologue, because he always completes it with a “What do you think about that, bule?” Yes, sounds good, I reply by formula. In Taliwang, Pak Achmed takes me to a small warung where a few people are sitting around drinking coffee in front of a battered red 12 passenger van. You can take this to Sekongkang, he tells me. He negotiates a price of 17,000 rupiahs for the trip to Sekongkang. Sounds fair to me, I say, and hand over the money to the boy who works with the driver. The driver, Pak John, tells me that we’ll leave in 30 minutes. I order a coffee from a rather robust woman wearing a jilbab and a faded sarong and t-shirt that reads Chicago Red Sox. Hmm, I tell her, wrong team but a good city.

2:20 P.M. After a long silence Pak John decides to find out my specifics – marital status, kids, nationality, the usual Indonesian conversation. I see a twinkle in his rheumy eyes as he launches into another mode of discourse. Are you looking for a woman? Hmm, I just answered that I thought. I explain that my wife, daughters and son wouldn’t approve of me coming home with another woman. But, you say that you’re a Muslim, Dr. Sulaiman, so you know, of course, that you can have many wives. Not if I expect to survive the night, I say. Suddenly a very quiet man with short mustache and very clean, pressed clothes, leans over towards me and asks, You’re Rebecca’s father, aren’t you? Well, yes I am, I reply wondering who he is and why he knows my daughter. Ah, she plays with my niece. Very chatty and quite beautiful. Yes, she’s quite naughty, I laugh. With this recognition, I instantly become part of the group. A high school girl in her school uniform offers me a banana and her grandfather gives me a clove cigarette. Pak John, decides to confide in me that he can’t take me to Sekongkang because I’m the only one going there and the trip over the mountains between Maluk and Sekongkang is too difficult for his old bus. He instructs his helper to give me back 4,000 rupiah. But, I’ll get you a ride home he says. Don’t worry.

Friday, October 20, 2006

New Face on the Blog

My blog has looked pretty much the same for the past two years. So I looked around for some new ones and found one that I like except for the popcorn image which I'd like to replace, but I need to figure out how to do that first. Maybe soon, but generally I think that the blog looks much better than before.

The long, winding road - conclusion

8:00 A.M. We reach the harbor at Kayangan in Lombok. My goals are to get petrol at one of the stations that has nice bathrooms and isn’t crowded, to get to the harbor at Lembar before 11:00, and to not have an accident while crossing the island.

10:25 A.M. We reach Lembar, but they’ve changed the harbor, and I can’t figure out where the car line is. After asking several official looking folks, we find that they have a small parking area for sedans. All the cars that are waiting are lined up in the front of the small space. I see that if I move behind one of the cars in the front, I’ll actually be in the back. I take an Indonesian approach and park in the last front spot effectively making it impossible for any incoming cars to park in the lot. The fellow that took our money when we entered the harbor told us that the next ferry would depart at 11:00. The kids are wide awake by this time and fan out among the small warungs looking for snacks. I light up a cigarette and chat with the three guys in the Fuji Photo truck. Their coming back from a tip to Sumbawa. We talk about the weather in Sumbawa (it’s really dry isn’t it; yes I haven’t had water in our house for three days now). They somewhat unobtrusively sniff the air. Apparently I don’t smell all that bad as we continue our conversation. They suggest going up to Singaraja (how do you know I’m going there? Your plates!).

11:30 A.M. We’re on the ferry. Trucks and buses get on first. I’m the last sedan that they let on and it takes 15 minutes to maneuver my car in so that it fits. I have to crawl out the back window due to an inability to open the doors. I’m silently hoping that my car won’t be the extra weight that sinks the ferry. My wife, ever thoughtful, rents foam mattresses for us to lay on the floor so that we can sleep. The kids run around for ten minutes and then immediately fall asleep. I lay down to rest my back, but stay wide awake for the next five hours of the trip.

5:30 P.M We reach Padangbai harbour in Bali. As we decamp, we’re pulled over by some officals. They want to see the car’s registration and my license. Which license, I say, in my most friendly tone. Your international one the short pudgy official responds. Sorry I don’t have one. Can you take one of my Indonesian ones? Apparently they don’t get many bules with Indonesian licenses. We enter into a conversation about how long I’ve been in Indonesia. He’s amused and sends us on our way.

6:00 P.M. We pass through Candidasa and stare at the few tourists on the street. We still have a long 2 plus hours to go before we reach Singaraja, but everyone is thrilled that we’re back in Bali. The kids are looking forward to seeing their cousins and aunts and uncles. I’m looking forward to a scotch and a shower and some sleep.
7:00 P.M. It’s dark and there’s traffic which makes a lot of demands on my diminished night vision. I take a left turn because it seems like that’s where the main road goes. Fifteen minutes later we’re up in the hills and obviously in desa land. The road suddenly disappears, and my wife makes the astute observation that I’ve taken a wrong turn. I carefully try to turn the car around without driving off the dirt road that has suddenly taken the place of the paved one.

8:00 P.M. Air Sanih, almost home. The kids who have been sleeping wake up and notice where we are. The littlest one sleepily asks if we’re home yet. Soon, I tell her, go back to sleep. She kicks her brother’s leg that he has draped over hers and goes back to sleep.

8:15 P.M. We reach the Singaraja city limits, and I start to relax. The traffic is heavy but the streets are lit so I can finally see where I am. The kids name off all the shops that we pass that they know. Yes, I say, almost home.

8:20 P.M. I take a right off of Jalan A. Yani and head on north to Kampung Bugis. I pull the car into the little parking space in front of the house. The kids are out of the car before it stops. Cousins and neighborhood friends all gather around. Everyone runs into the house. I open the back to unload all the goods that we’ve brought from Sumbawa. Despite my requests that my wife not pack a lot of unnecessary items, among the things that I have to carry in to the house are a 25 kg sack of rice, five black plastic garbage bags full of mangoes from our garden, and five dozen eggs.

Total traveling time 16 hours and 20 minutes. When I lived in Pakistan, it would take me 13 hours to get from there to Bali. Traveling in an archipelago – never a dull moment.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

The long, winding road

Yesterday, I mentioned that I am in Bali. Today, I'll write a bit about the intricacies of the travel from Sumbawa to here.

Traveling. It’s a large part of Indonesian life. It seems like people are always traveling. The gardener has to go back to Flores to see his sick father. The maid needs a month off because her sister is having a baby. Your child needs to see a dentist that is only available in Bali. Your visa is about to expire and you need to run off to Singapore. These realities (well except for the visa example) are pretty common everywhere in the world (ok, I never had a gardener or a maid when I lived in the US), but everyone has family emergencies that they need to go home for. When I lived in the States, I needed to attend a wedding or a funeral, but I could get a plane and be there and back in a few days.

I read on a popular blog about Bali today that getting to Sumbawa was an easy thing, just get on your motorbike, hop on a ferry, cross an island, hop on another ferry, and you’re there. Well, there’s slightly more to it than that. I have to make this trip every ten weeks or so when the kids and I have coinciding vacations. They like going back to Bali which they consider home. So we make the long, winding trip back home. I’m going to work backwards from the direction of the bali blog. You can just reverse the process if you happen to be coming to Sumbawa from Bali.

3:00 A.M. We wake all the kids up so they can eat something before we leave. Being the organized expat, I’ve packed everything in the car four days prior to leaving which only slightly irritates my wife who has to work around our personal items for four days while she shops and takes care of her normal business. Our teenagers are cranky and want to shower in case they meet a good looking boy on the ferries. My ten year old son is willing to go without changing his bed clothes because it’s still night and he’s planning on sleeping in the car anyway. The seven year old cries because she stayed up late watching her favorite sinetron about lost love and the sexual perversity of the rich and famous in Jakarta. My wife has to run to the gate to let our gardener in who will be repacking the car with the real essentials for the trip while I’m showering and having a quick breakfast.

4:00 A.M. Everyone is packed in the car. Freddy, our gardener, has all the keys to the house and tool shed and he packs May, the dog, in the tool shed so that she doesn’t follow the car out into the road and become another casualty of the Indonesian road races. We wave goodbye to Freddy while I tell the kids to quit fighting about their seating positions and who smells. Despite my vows of not smoking in the new car, I light up a cigarette as we leave in the hope that it will help me stay awake until we reach the harbor at Poto Tano in the north of the island.

4:30 A.M. I swerve wildly to miss a musang in the road and everyone wakes up and asks what music is on (Jimi Hendrix to keep me awake and remind me that once upon a time I had a life without significant others) and have I fallen asleep at the wheel.

5:45 A.M. We arrive at Poto Tano and are first in line to board the ferry. There are two overloaded antique trucks waiting in a different line. The drivers look wide awake and watch the show as all of the kids decamp from the car and debate about whether we’ll get in the ferry at the dock.

6:00 A.M. The ferry unloads and we drive in first. The kids are excited. I’m relieved that the ferry is going to be fairly empty. The kids run up the stairs and find that we are on the ferry with the slides and children’s playground set. I light up a cigarette and take a photo of the sun rising over Sumbawa. My wife immediately starts pulling out food for her and the children. She’s brought me two packs of Oreos.

Tomorrow. The ride across Lombok, the ferry to Bali, and the ride up the east coast to home.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Back in Bali

We've been in Bali for the past few days for the Ramadan holiday. I wasn't planning on making a trip here this vacation due to only have two weeks. The trip is a fairly strenuous one because we cross three islands and two straights of water. Total time is about 15 hours. By the time we get to Bali, we're all exhausted.

The trip is interesting because of the ferry crossings. There is generally a somewhat different type of passenger. More about that later. We're still in the fasting month, and I need to take a sort nap.