Correction:
I'd just like to make a bit of a correction to one of my earlier posts. I don't usually talk about my personal life in my blog, but seeing as I put it in there as part of my story, I should explain properly. My girlfriend, selene, didn't "finish with me", that makes it sound like she was doing something cruel, which if i wanted to wallow in self pity would be an easy thing to let myself believe, but is basically not true. She didn't want to end the relationship any more than I did, but for reasons too complicated to talk about, it needed ending, and I didn't have the balls to do it. I prefer to pretend everything is fine until the last possible minute. We're still best friends, and we're both absolutely gutted, but we want different things from life, live on opposite sides of the globe, and I am currently only half way thru 12 months of travelling, so I can't blame her for taking the initiative. It's one thing travelling around having fun knowing that someone is waiting for you, it's another thing doing the waiting. So just in case you were thinking my gf is some heartless bitch who has left me in the lurch, alone in a strange country, think again. Doesn't make it any less shit. Maybe even more so, as you don't have the luxuries of blame or self pity, but i guess that's life. Anyway, if I wanted to write one of those moany blogs where people talk about how miserable they are, then you wouldn't be reading this, so this will be my final word on the matter. Give me a while for my eyes to clear so that i can go back to observing the world again, and i will do my best to pick out something worthy of your horizontal eye movement. Thankyou for you time. BingBong.
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Ok, today I am simply going to talk about random stuff. First on the agenda: buses.
Indonesian buses are truly unique. So what are the most important elements of an Indonesian bus? No, not the suspension. No, not the steering. The most important thing to invest in when doing up bus here are: stickers and sound system. I�ll start with sound system. Imagine an old rickety bus; seat covers coming apart, dirt collecting in every possible corner etc etc. Now imagine an illegal rave, with an old, but powerful PA system blasting out happy hardcore. Now combine the two. In fact, throw in one of those �boy racer� cars with the expensive rear mounted sub-woofers. Now you are close to understanding the auditory power of these otherwise scrap-worthy vehicles.
Actually the happy hardcore is mainly played in the smaller buses, which aren�t really buses at all; more like moving bass bins on wheels. They are actually those small mini-vans you rarely see in England, but which maybe the village butcher might drive. You know, the ones which re-defined the word �mini-van� and promoted the current models up to, ummmm, �midi-van�? Anyway, yeah, them, but with half of the back filled with speakers and the other half crammed with people squished along little benches along the sides or hanging out of the door. The �buses�, also known as �Colts�, �bemos�, and other names, are invariably driven by teenage boys, who treat the whole affair like a ride on the dodgems, with the happy hardcore or gabba techno adding to this feeling. They drive around trying to cut each other off or push one another off the road and into the pedestrians on the pavement, finding the whole thing hilarious, and driving as fast as possible, their adrenaline fueled by the 200bpm blasting out of the speakers. They are essentially boy racers with passengers.
But it�s not just the music that creates this image. It�s the stickers. Every bus, be it a Bemo or a big bus, is completely covered in lurid stickers except a small strip about a foot high to allow the driver to see through the windscreen�. a bit. These stickers really do make every bus look like it belongs in a fairground! They are hard to describe, but a few things that stick in my mind are: huge graffiti like bubble writing, NO FEAR logos, go faster stripes�.. basically anything goes as long as no bus is visible. As for how they manage to drive with only a foot high strip of windscreen to see through, I really couldn�t tell you�. But they do!
So, that's indonesian buses. I have a picture, but dont have the means to post it up.... will let you know when it's up on my photos site....
Indonesian buses are truly unique. So what are the most important elements of an Indonesian bus? No, not the suspension. No, not the steering. The most important thing to invest in when doing up bus here are: stickers and sound system. I�ll start with sound system. Imagine an old rickety bus; seat covers coming apart, dirt collecting in every possible corner etc etc. Now imagine an illegal rave, with an old, but powerful PA system blasting out happy hardcore. Now combine the two. In fact, throw in one of those �boy racer� cars with the expensive rear mounted sub-woofers. Now you are close to understanding the auditory power of these otherwise scrap-worthy vehicles.
Actually the happy hardcore is mainly played in the smaller buses, which aren�t really buses at all; more like moving bass bins on wheels. They are actually those small mini-vans you rarely see in England, but which maybe the village butcher might drive. You know, the ones which re-defined the word �mini-van� and promoted the current models up to, ummmm, �midi-van�? Anyway, yeah, them, but with half of the back filled with speakers and the other half crammed with people squished along little benches along the sides or hanging out of the door. The �buses�, also known as �Colts�, �bemos�, and other names, are invariably driven by teenage boys, who treat the whole affair like a ride on the dodgems, with the happy hardcore or gabba techno adding to this feeling. They drive around trying to cut each other off or push one another off the road and into the pedestrians on the pavement, finding the whole thing hilarious, and driving as fast as possible, their adrenaline fueled by the 200bpm blasting out of the speakers. They are essentially boy racers with passengers.
But it�s not just the music that creates this image. It�s the stickers. Every bus, be it a Bemo or a big bus, is completely covered in lurid stickers except a small strip about a foot high to allow the driver to see through the windscreen�. a bit. These stickers really do make every bus look like it belongs in a fairground! They are hard to describe, but a few things that stick in my mind are: huge graffiti like bubble writing, NO FEAR logos, go faster stripes�.. basically anything goes as long as no bus is visible. As for how they manage to drive with only a foot high strip of windscreen to see through, I really couldn�t tell you�. But they do!
So, that's indonesian buses. I have a picture, but dont have the means to post it up.... will let you know when it's up on my photos site....
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Hello again,
Well, I�m all alone once more. I saw my family off at the airport earlier and am now feeling rather at a loss as to what to do with myself. Actually, I have a few local friends I could call, but I�m not really feeling up to making conversation�.
Anyway, last night we had a blast! Dekson, the singer I mentioned before, invited us to a party at his mates house. It was a garden party, with flaming toches all around, a stage for everyone to jam on, and lots of booze. Awesome. People kept telling us it was a traditional Javanese party. We tried to explain to them that it was exactly the same as a traditional English party, but they wouldn�t have any of it. �But look, try this Indonesian food from the barbecue!� they said. �It�s a corn on the cob�, we said, �we have them too, very tasty�. I will say this for them however: they are a damned musical bunch! Loads of people were getting up and jamming, including myself, and no one was embarrassed to be singing, or wailing, or banging a drum, or whatever�.
Well, I�m off to Mt Bromo next, then on to Bali to catch a flight to perth, where hopefully I�ll be able to visit some relatives of mine (If they reply my e-mail in time!...)
I�m gonna go and grab some food. I�ll try and write something a bit more interesting next time�..
Well, I�m all alone once more. I saw my family off at the airport earlier and am now feeling rather at a loss as to what to do with myself. Actually, I have a few local friends I could call, but I�m not really feeling up to making conversation�.
Anyway, last night we had a blast! Dekson, the singer I mentioned before, invited us to a party at his mates house. It was a garden party, with flaming toches all around, a stage for everyone to jam on, and lots of booze. Awesome. People kept telling us it was a traditional Javanese party. We tried to explain to them that it was exactly the same as a traditional English party, but they wouldn�t have any of it. �But look, try this Indonesian food from the barbecue!� they said. �It�s a corn on the cob�, we said, �we have them too, very tasty�. I will say this for them however: they are a damned musical bunch! Loads of people were getting up and jamming, including myself, and no one was embarrassed to be singing, or wailing, or banging a drum, or whatever�.
Well, I�m off to Mt Bromo next, then on to Bali to catch a flight to perth, where hopefully I�ll be able to visit some relatives of mine (If they reply my e-mail in time!...)
I�m gonna go and grab some food. I�ll try and write something a bit more interesting next time�..
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Selamat Suree!
I am now in Yogyakarta, the tourist capital of Java. It's pretty cool here. Last night I went to eat at a restaurant with my mum and sis, and there was a great live band playing. They were a bunch of locals about my age, playing guitars, double bass, drums, mandolin, cello and of course vocals. I had a bit of a jam with them and they then invited us to join them at a party they were going to (I think this had more to do with the singer fancying my sister than anything...) so we headed off... What we arrived at was quite a surprise. A beer drinking competition! Bear in mind this is a muslim country, and if any of these youngsters had been caught by their parents they probably wouldn't have lived to drink again. But by god these kids got into the spirit of it! There were girls falling over, people throwing up, guys shouting and laughing... but absolutely NO aggression or violence, despite the copious amounts of free beer being drunk.... My mum and sis left after a while to go back to the hotel, but I decided to stick around. The guys who took me told me it wasn't really their scene, but Dekson, the singer, had promised his mate who was DJing that he'd show up, so he felt obliged to stay. So we hung out there for a while until Doni, the DJ, finished his set, then we headed off to a little roadside cafe, which consisted of some straw mats layed out on the floor outside the K-Mart.
It almost goes without saying now that these guys wouldn't let me pay anything towards drinks and taxis. These indonesians are just so goddamn friendly! These guys all came from Borneo, which as we know from the news is populated by cannabalistic tribes and bloodthirsty militant muslims. Mmmmm, they must be a genetic anomoly.... I mean the news is the NEWS! ...right?.....
It really is tragic how Indonesian tourist industry has been left to choke to death like this. I had assumed that it was since the bali bomb that things began to go wrong here, but I was wrong. It was actually the riots in 1998 (1997? I forget!) that started it. You remember? The ones where muslims were killing christians, christians were killing muslims, and everyone was killing the chinese and parading their heads down the streets on poles. And of course everyone in the whole country was involved in this, right from the tip of Sumatra down to East timor, because that's all we saw on the news...
Ironically, the lonely planet guidbook hasn't bothered to update itself since then, so the information in there doesn't take into account 7 years of no tourists! For example, when we arrived in pangandaren, Java's main beach resort, we headed straight for "Delta Gecko Village", as the book told us that this was a popular hang out for travellers and had lots going on. When we arrived the first image that sprung to my mind was that house in Terminator 2 where they go to hide out for a while, somewhere in the mexican desert i think... you know the one... Just a straight, dusty road, stretching to the horizon in both directions, and then some derelict looking buildings sitting neglected by the side of the road. We went inside and followed a couple of old signposts until we found ourselves in a little courtyard where an ageing hippie Indonesian and his wife were sitting around chatting. He looked up at us and the look on his face was priceless! First he looked shocked, then overjoyed as he jumped out of his seat to welcome us. "Come in! come in!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. He explained to us that he hasn't really had tourists, except for the occasional trickle, for 7 years. Before that the place had been so poular that sometimes they had to bring in extra tables to feed the 26 or so guests. He showed me some old photo albums and he was right. And I could see why: the place was amazing! Our host, Agus was his name, is an artist, and the whole place is one big piece of art... there are cow's jawbones set into the wall, beautiful mosaics covering the bathrooms, rooms on stilts with winding strairways leading up to them, all painted by hand so that you feel like you're in a huge art exhibit. We chose to stay in a 2 story "cottage" that was just beautiful, and we only paid $10 a night for the whole house. Agus made us dinner every night and we played guitar and sung and chatted with him and his many friends who came to share his hippie wisdom (or was it his free tea and coffee?). If you ever go to Panagandaren, which you should, be sure to stay at the Delta gecko Village!!
Once again, I was amazed at the hospitality, honesty, and all round friendliness of the people in pangandaren. It just seems such a shame that the rest of the world is too scared to experience the hospitality of these beautiful people.
While i'm here I may as well tell you about the jouney from jakarta to Pangandaren, as it was a typical Billy disaster journey....
We were planning to leave at 10pm in a hired car with a driver, so we checked out of the hotel and then started trying to kill the rest of the day in hot smelly jakarta. Then, around midday I decided to go on the internet, and managed to speak to my girlfriend, who then finished with me. As you can imagine, after over 1 and a half years together I was quite badly in need of a major cry, probably with some guttwrenching screams thrown in for good measure, but as I already mentioned, we'd checked out of the hotel already, and i was in a crowded internet cafe. After wiping my eyes too mant times to pass it off as a yawn, I told her I had to go and went out into the street. There was nowhere to go! I struggled to regain control of my emotions and walked back to the restaurant where my mum and sis were waiting. I headed straight for the toilet thinking maybe i could get some privacy there, but it was a tiny cramped smelly little loo with "Why?! Please come back to me!" rather appropriately graffitied on the inside of the door with marker pen. This was not going to be a good place to regain control of myself, so i headed back out and sat with my family pretending nothing had happened. I knew that i couldn't tell them without bursting into tears, so i figured best to say nothing at all.
Later i suggested we go to watch a movie, as i thought this would be a good way to take my mind off things and kill some time. The movie we watched was called "The In Laws", starring Michael Douglas, and it was really quite funny, which cheered me up no end, until the end when the couple got married and lived happily ever after, which kind of ruined my improved state.
Eventually 9pm came around and the taxi driver found us and we decided to set off. Once we started driving, it became even more difficult not to cry, as we weren't talking, allowing my mind to roam free. I decided the best thing to do was to pop a couple of sleeping pills that i'd bought in Thailand and just sleep thru the whole journey, so that's exactly what i did. Only that would have been too easy wouldn't it? So at about 3am, i was woken up by the car stopping. I think the driver wanted to get out and stretch his legs, as apparantly he'd almost fallen asleep at the wheel (great!). When he got back in and tried to start the car, instead of the usual "NnngNnngNnnng.. Vrooom", we got a small "click". We tried again a few times, but nothing. We figured the battery must be flat so it was suggested I jump out and push start it. May i remind you that I was currently under the influence of some pretty powerful prescription drugs which were not intended to make you strong and energetic. I fell out of the car and staggered about a bit before managing to clear my head enough to push the car down a small slope and jump start it.
After climbing back into the car and preparing to fall back asleep, I noticed the driver was looking rather worried. I followed his gaze and realised why. The headlights were so dim that you could barely see the road 4 feet in front of us. This wasn't looking good. We stopped again and got out, opening the bonnet for a bit of ignorant poking. Eventually we figured out that the problem was that some idiot has replace one of the battery terminal clips with one from a different car that didn't actually fit, and then tried to secure it with a screw! I tried to get it to work, filing bits down, sandpapering, twisting and turning, and eventually managed to make the car start. We set off again, but still the lights were dim. Then the car stalled. On a hill. More precisely, going UP a hill. Even more precisely, a fucking steep hill, just after a sharp bend. Once again we got out and proceeded to fumble under the bonnet. We tried to reverse jump start, but it didn't work, meaning we had to push the car BACK UP THE HILL to get it away from the blind corner!! So I pushed like a mule, feet sliding in the gravel, my heavily sedated body protesting as violently as it could, given that it was sedated. We got the car back to it's original position....and then repeated the whole thing twice!
Eventually it got light at about 6am, and a guy towed us to the top of the hill where we jumpstarted. With no more need for lights, you'd think it would be plain sailing, but no. The driver was afraid that if he slowed down, the car would stall again. I tried explaining to him that if he put it in a low gear, and kept the clutch in, it wouldn't stall, but he didn't seem to understand, and after nearly stalling a couple of times after slowing down in a high gear, he decided it was best to just maintain a dangerously fast speed at all times. The problem with this is that we were driving through villages at 6:25 in the morning, and the roads were packed with children on their way to school! Add to this the fact that we had no battery, and therefore no horn, and you can imagine how dangerous it was. I felt like leaning out of the window and screaming "Get out of the way!!! He's a maniac! Run!", but i didn't, i was still sedated....
Then he stalled again.
We were only 30km from our destination, but we had to wait for his friend to bring another car, during which time I fell asleep, and then woke up feeling like absolute shit. But anyway, we reached there in the end, and i got my own room, where I collapsed on the bed and finally let out the flood of emotion that had been welling up inside me for the last 20 hours..... what a fucking day.
I am now in Yogyakarta, the tourist capital of Java. It's pretty cool here. Last night I went to eat at a restaurant with my mum and sis, and there was a great live band playing. They were a bunch of locals about my age, playing guitars, double bass, drums, mandolin, cello and of course vocals. I had a bit of a jam with them and they then invited us to join them at a party they were going to (I think this had more to do with the singer fancying my sister than anything...) so we headed off... What we arrived at was quite a surprise. A beer drinking competition! Bear in mind this is a muslim country, and if any of these youngsters had been caught by their parents they probably wouldn't have lived to drink again. But by god these kids got into the spirit of it! There were girls falling over, people throwing up, guys shouting and laughing... but absolutely NO aggression or violence, despite the copious amounts of free beer being drunk.... My mum and sis left after a while to go back to the hotel, but I decided to stick around. The guys who took me told me it wasn't really their scene, but Dekson, the singer, had promised his mate who was DJing that he'd show up, so he felt obliged to stay. So we hung out there for a while until Doni, the DJ, finished his set, then we headed off to a little roadside cafe, which consisted of some straw mats layed out on the floor outside the K-Mart.
It almost goes without saying now that these guys wouldn't let me pay anything towards drinks and taxis. These indonesians are just so goddamn friendly! These guys all came from Borneo, which as we know from the news is populated by cannabalistic tribes and bloodthirsty militant muslims. Mmmmm, they must be a genetic anomoly.... I mean the news is the NEWS! ...right?.....
It really is tragic how Indonesian tourist industry has been left to choke to death like this. I had assumed that it was since the bali bomb that things began to go wrong here, but I was wrong. It was actually the riots in 1998 (1997? I forget!) that started it. You remember? The ones where muslims were killing christians, christians were killing muslims, and everyone was killing the chinese and parading their heads down the streets on poles. And of course everyone in the whole country was involved in this, right from the tip of Sumatra down to East timor, because that's all we saw on the news...
Ironically, the lonely planet guidbook hasn't bothered to update itself since then, so the information in there doesn't take into account 7 years of no tourists! For example, when we arrived in pangandaren, Java's main beach resort, we headed straight for "Delta Gecko Village", as the book told us that this was a popular hang out for travellers and had lots going on. When we arrived the first image that sprung to my mind was that house in Terminator 2 where they go to hide out for a while, somewhere in the mexican desert i think... you know the one... Just a straight, dusty road, stretching to the horizon in both directions, and then some derelict looking buildings sitting neglected by the side of the road. We went inside and followed a couple of old signposts until we found ourselves in a little courtyard where an ageing hippie Indonesian and his wife were sitting around chatting. He looked up at us and the look on his face was priceless! First he looked shocked, then overjoyed as he jumped out of his seat to welcome us. "Come in! come in!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. He explained to us that he hasn't really had tourists, except for the occasional trickle, for 7 years. Before that the place had been so poular that sometimes they had to bring in extra tables to feed the 26 or so guests. He showed me some old photo albums and he was right. And I could see why: the place was amazing! Our host, Agus was his name, is an artist, and the whole place is one big piece of art... there are cow's jawbones set into the wall, beautiful mosaics covering the bathrooms, rooms on stilts with winding strairways leading up to them, all painted by hand so that you feel like you're in a huge art exhibit. We chose to stay in a 2 story "cottage" that was just beautiful, and we only paid $10 a night for the whole house. Agus made us dinner every night and we played guitar and sung and chatted with him and his many friends who came to share his hippie wisdom (or was it his free tea and coffee?). If you ever go to Panagandaren, which you should, be sure to stay at the Delta gecko Village!!
Once again, I was amazed at the hospitality, honesty, and all round friendliness of the people in pangandaren. It just seems such a shame that the rest of the world is too scared to experience the hospitality of these beautiful people.
While i'm here I may as well tell you about the jouney from jakarta to Pangandaren, as it was a typical Billy disaster journey....
We were planning to leave at 10pm in a hired car with a driver, so we checked out of the hotel and then started trying to kill the rest of the day in hot smelly jakarta. Then, around midday I decided to go on the internet, and managed to speak to my girlfriend, who then finished with me. As you can imagine, after over 1 and a half years together I was quite badly in need of a major cry, probably with some guttwrenching screams thrown in for good measure, but as I already mentioned, we'd checked out of the hotel already, and i was in a crowded internet cafe. After wiping my eyes too mant times to pass it off as a yawn, I told her I had to go and went out into the street. There was nowhere to go! I struggled to regain control of my emotions and walked back to the restaurant where my mum and sis were waiting. I headed straight for the toilet thinking maybe i could get some privacy there, but it was a tiny cramped smelly little loo with "Why?! Please come back to me!" rather appropriately graffitied on the inside of the door with marker pen. This was not going to be a good place to regain control of myself, so i headed back out and sat with my family pretending nothing had happened. I knew that i couldn't tell them without bursting into tears, so i figured best to say nothing at all.
Later i suggested we go to watch a movie, as i thought this would be a good way to take my mind off things and kill some time. The movie we watched was called "The In Laws", starring Michael Douglas, and it was really quite funny, which cheered me up no end, until the end when the couple got married and lived happily ever after, which kind of ruined my improved state.
Eventually 9pm came around and the taxi driver found us and we decided to set off. Once we started driving, it became even more difficult not to cry, as we weren't talking, allowing my mind to roam free. I decided the best thing to do was to pop a couple of sleeping pills that i'd bought in Thailand and just sleep thru the whole journey, so that's exactly what i did. Only that would have been too easy wouldn't it? So at about 3am, i was woken up by the car stopping. I think the driver wanted to get out and stretch his legs, as apparantly he'd almost fallen asleep at the wheel (great!). When he got back in and tried to start the car, instead of the usual "NnngNnngNnnng.. Vrooom", we got a small "click". We tried again a few times, but nothing. We figured the battery must be flat so it was suggested I jump out and push start it. May i remind you that I was currently under the influence of some pretty powerful prescription drugs which were not intended to make you strong and energetic. I fell out of the car and staggered about a bit before managing to clear my head enough to push the car down a small slope and jump start it.
After climbing back into the car and preparing to fall back asleep, I noticed the driver was looking rather worried. I followed his gaze and realised why. The headlights were so dim that you could barely see the road 4 feet in front of us. This wasn't looking good. We stopped again and got out, opening the bonnet for a bit of ignorant poking. Eventually we figured out that the problem was that some idiot has replace one of the battery terminal clips with one from a different car that didn't actually fit, and then tried to secure it with a screw! I tried to get it to work, filing bits down, sandpapering, twisting and turning, and eventually managed to make the car start. We set off again, but still the lights were dim. Then the car stalled. On a hill. More precisely, going UP a hill. Even more precisely, a fucking steep hill, just after a sharp bend. Once again we got out and proceeded to fumble under the bonnet. We tried to reverse jump start, but it didn't work, meaning we had to push the car BACK UP THE HILL to get it away from the blind corner!! So I pushed like a mule, feet sliding in the gravel, my heavily sedated body protesting as violently as it could, given that it was sedated. We got the car back to it's original position....and then repeated the whole thing twice!
Eventually it got light at about 6am, and a guy towed us to the top of the hill where we jumpstarted. With no more need for lights, you'd think it would be plain sailing, but no. The driver was afraid that if he slowed down, the car would stall again. I tried explaining to him that if he put it in a low gear, and kept the clutch in, it wouldn't stall, but he didn't seem to understand, and after nearly stalling a couple of times after slowing down in a high gear, he decided it was best to just maintain a dangerously fast speed at all times. The problem with this is that we were driving through villages at 6:25 in the morning, and the roads were packed with children on their way to school! Add to this the fact that we had no battery, and therefore no horn, and you can imagine how dangerous it was. I felt like leaning out of the window and screaming "Get out of the way!!! He's a maniac! Run!", but i didn't, i was still sedated....
Then he stalled again.
We were only 30km from our destination, but we had to wait for his friend to bring another car, during which time I fell asleep, and then woke up feeling like absolute shit. But anyway, we reached there in the end, and i got my own room, where I collapsed on the bed and finally let out the flood of emotion that had been welling up inside me for the last 20 hours..... what a fucking day.
Monday, August 18, 2003
Greetings from Jakarta!
Well, it was a pretty mad caper, but I managed to get here! It all started back in maninjau......
I left my beatiful lakeside retreat a day early just to be absolutely sure i could make it to the airport in padang in time. The reason it was so important I make this flight, as I may have mentioned, was that my mum and sister were flying in to jakarta from england, and i had booked a flight from padang (west sumatra) to jakarta on the same day so as to meet them at the airport. My flight was scheduled to arrive in jakarta at 13:50, and theirs at 20:45, so there was plenty of time. Anyway, I set off in a "travel bus" to spend a night in Padang. Travel buses come in a few different varietys, normally involving brightly coloured stickers and happy hardcore. This one was a stickerless country and western type however, which if anything was a change... anyway, as we set off it was raining. When we arrived it was raining more. As we approached the city of padang, the roads suddenly turned into a ginat waterpark! The main roundabout was a genuine whirlpool due to the cars and the current provided by the overflow of a side road... Now i know what your thinking, your thinking I'm exaggerating and that basically there was just a bit of water on the roads, but let me tell you, we drove through water at least one and a half feet (45cm) deep, causing a proper wake to form around the front of the car! I kept seeing people pushing cars and motorbikes that had stalled, and I prayed that my car's fate wouldn't be the same. At one pint we couldn't get thru the road, so my driver went up onto a riverside footpath! This path was meant for pedestrains, and was on a raised bank along the side of the man made river. The river, which was swollen to the point of almost busrsting it's banks, raced alongside the car. Then another car started coming the other way down the tiny footpath! We somehow managed to pass, and eventually made it to a hotel without stalling.
After checking in i went and waded out into the street to find some food. The rain was still falling, and 2 indonesian guys started talking to me and offered to share their umbrella. i walked with them and tried to ask where i could find a food stall that was still open. One of the guys said he was heading towards one, and the other took a different turn, so i was left with this guy. He was very smiley, about 35 i guess, and he was walking quite close to share his umbrella with me. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and looked at me, saying something along the lines of "do you want a massage?". "Tidak (no)" I said, and he let go, then he did the same thing again, this time laughing when i put on a serious face and again said "Tidak!". Then he ponted at my crotch, and then put the tip of his finger in my mouth and said "you want?". "TIDAK!" I said!! There was nothing dodgy or confrontational about what he did, he simply offered me a blowjob as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do! "I have a girlfriend!" I said, as if this might somehow justify my refusing his generous offer. He just laughed and tried to massage my shoulder again, but by now i was onto him and sidestepped. He thought the whole situation was extremely funny, and tried one last time to get my hotel room number before i finally turned around, said my goodnight's and headed back the way I had come so he couldn't pretend to be going the same way! These indonesians take hospitality to new levels i tell you!
After a night of being eaten by mosquitos and a morning of playing guitar with the hotel staff, i finally made it to the airport. I was very stressed by this point, as I was imagining that due to the floods my flight might be cancelled or delayed, but when I reached the airport i checked the computer screen, and my flight was still scheduled to leave on time. I checked in and went thru to the waiting area. My flight was due to leave at 12:20. When at 1:00 I was still sat in the waiting room and the monitor was still giving my flight's status as "check in", I started to realise something was up. I went up to the counter and asked what was up. "Oh, the planes broken, we're fixing it at the moment" said the girl. "So when will it be fixed?" I asked. "mmmm, no way of telling really", she said, trying to look apologetic. Or maybe she just shrugged. To be honest her english wasn't exactly up to much. By now lots of other passengers had come up to join in the complaining, and suddenly I was surrounded by people far more intent on making a fuss than I was, and so was pushed to the back of the "que", which wasn'r actually a que, but more an imaginary order in which peple would be dealt with depending on how pushy and obnoxious they were being. By far the most obnoxious was an Italian guy, who, embarressingly, was the only other white guy there. He kept saying really unnececarily annoying things like "Look, it's not my fault the planes broken is it? So who's fault is it? (blank look from girl who clearly has very low position) Yes, that's right, it's YOUR fault, so I want you to book me onto the next flight on any other airline, and I want YOU to pay for it! OK!? Right, get me your boss! I demand to speak to the Boss!!!" and so on and so forth. " what a prick" i thought to myself. Surely there was no need to like that? I mean there's no way they could just buy him another ticket was there, they would just send him to the boss, who would try to placate him and tell him he understood his feeling etc etc....
So anyway, I eventually managed to speak to one of the girls, and i explained to her that i had to meet my mother and sister in jakarta, and could she tell me what time that expected the flight to leave. She told me that that were waiting for a part which was being flown out from jakarta and would arrive at 2:20, then after the plane was fixd we'd probably still leave by 4pm, so i'd still be in jakarta in time. So, satisfied that all was well, i went and played my guitar to a bunch of old men, thinking what a stressful time the italian was probably having arguing with the boss all for sake of saving 1 hour or so. At about 3:30 I went back up to the desk. "So, did the part arrive ok?" I asked. "What part?", said the girl. "You know! The part to fix the plane!" I said, shocked that she could forget something so important! "Oh! Ummmm, No." she said, then smiled at me to make up for any upset this news may have caused. "So when is the plane going to leave?!" I asked, starting to panic. Then, the italian turned up, and asked me how i was getting on. I explained that I wasn't doing so great all things considered, and he said "what, you didn't get moved to another flight?!"... "ummm, no. you can do that?" I asked, feeling like a prize idiot. "Well, yes, but you'd have to do it bloody quick, the flight leaves in 15 minutes!" he said. Suddenly siezed with panic I ran about frantically looking for someone with authority who could help me. Eventually, after about 4 reffereals, I ended up in the Lion Air office, and was told that the Bali Air flight was full, so I couldn't go on it. I finally gave in, and adopted the post colonial "I'm white and rich and you'd better bloody do what i say so help you god!" attitude that had served the italian so well, and within minutes I was checking in to the Bali Air flight! I'd asked the boss what time the Lion Air flight was really expected to leave and he told me 6pm, so i was thanking my lucky stars that the Italian had told to change flights just in time or I would have missed my mum for sure!
I said to the guy sorting my ticket, "But what about my bag! I've already checked it in on your flight!". "Don't worry" he said, "give me your baggage tag and I'll get it put on the new flight". "But it leaves in 15 mins!" I said. "Don't worry!" he said, "It's no problem!". No problem for him the lying bastard! but more about that later.... So anyway, I manage to get on the plane, and as we taxi out into the runway, and I'm busy congratulating myself for acting so fast, i look out my window, and guess what i see? Only all the other fucking delayed passengers getting onto the supposedly broken Lion Air flight!! And in a sudden moment of second sight, I suddenly know that my bag isn't in the hold of the plane I'm currently sitting in. It just wasn't possible. They didn't ask what my bag looked like, and to identify it by the number on the tag alone would take forever, and even if they had identified it (which by now i was praying they hadn't) they wouldn't have had time to put it on this plane, so it was probably sat in the airport somewhere, ownerless and flightless, probably about to be destroyed in a controlled explosion by the bomb-squad. I tried to put this out of my mind and tell myself i was being paranoid, but my logical mind just knew it was right, and as I stood there at the empty baggage claim belt after everyone else had left I'm sure i heard my brain sing a little "told you sooo!". I went and told someone official looking, and they gave me what I assume was supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but came across more as an "aren't you pathetic" smile. I was led down a maze of corridors and dumped from one person to another, one departm,ent to the next, until i was eventually told that they couldn't get thru to lion air, and i should just go there myself. Luckily one friendly guy gave me a lift to the terminal.
As you can imagine, losing your backpack 6 months into a one year trip is not just inconvenient, it's pretty much a nightmare. I mean of course I didn't reaaly NEEED any of that stuff, but well, no, fuck it, I did NEEEEED it!!!!! It's my stuff! I'm attatched to it! Clothes i can replace, toiletries i can replace, but all those chargers for my digital camera, video camera, MD player (what can i say, i lived in singapore for 2 years!) couldn't be replaced so easily! And what about my powerpuff towel??!! Where was I going to find on of them in jakarta?! Ok, so i clutching at straws here, i guess it really was just stuff, but hey, it was MY stuff, and I WanteD it!
By now it was already time to go meet my mum and sis, so after telling the woman from lion air what had happened and recieveing a promise that she's try and find me bag I headed down to the arrivals terminal. They're flight was delayed (a recurring theme of the day) and I headed back upstairs. As i sat and waited, gloomily thinking of how much I was going to miss my berghaus walking boots, I looked up to be greeted by the site of an indonesian guy carrying a huge, ridiculous looking backpack. wait a minute! It was MY backpack! Hoooooray! I could have kissed him! (I didn't).
So in the end, my mum and sis arrived. After their long haul flight from London via Dubai, Columbo, and Singapore, they seemed far less exhausted than me! What a day. The only other highlight of the day was mum's bag being searched for bombs as we entered Jalan Jacksa (tourist street) in a taxi! That was all yesterday. Today is another story......
Well, it was a pretty mad caper, but I managed to get here! It all started back in maninjau......
I left my beatiful lakeside retreat a day early just to be absolutely sure i could make it to the airport in padang in time. The reason it was so important I make this flight, as I may have mentioned, was that my mum and sister were flying in to jakarta from england, and i had booked a flight from padang (west sumatra) to jakarta on the same day so as to meet them at the airport. My flight was scheduled to arrive in jakarta at 13:50, and theirs at 20:45, so there was plenty of time. Anyway, I set off in a "travel bus" to spend a night in Padang. Travel buses come in a few different varietys, normally involving brightly coloured stickers and happy hardcore. This one was a stickerless country and western type however, which if anything was a change... anyway, as we set off it was raining. When we arrived it was raining more. As we approached the city of padang, the roads suddenly turned into a ginat waterpark! The main roundabout was a genuine whirlpool due to the cars and the current provided by the overflow of a side road... Now i know what your thinking, your thinking I'm exaggerating and that basically there was just a bit of water on the roads, but let me tell you, we drove through water at least one and a half feet (45cm) deep, causing a proper wake to form around the front of the car! I kept seeing people pushing cars and motorbikes that had stalled, and I prayed that my car's fate wouldn't be the same. At one pint we couldn't get thru the road, so my driver went up onto a riverside footpath! This path was meant for pedestrains, and was on a raised bank along the side of the man made river. The river, which was swollen to the point of almost busrsting it's banks, raced alongside the car. Then another car started coming the other way down the tiny footpath! We somehow managed to pass, and eventually made it to a hotel without stalling.
After checking in i went and waded out into the street to find some food. The rain was still falling, and 2 indonesian guys started talking to me and offered to share their umbrella. i walked with them and tried to ask where i could find a food stall that was still open. One of the guys said he was heading towards one, and the other took a different turn, so i was left with this guy. He was very smiley, about 35 i guess, and he was walking quite close to share his umbrella with me. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and looked at me, saying something along the lines of "do you want a massage?". "Tidak (no)" I said, and he let go, then he did the same thing again, this time laughing when i put on a serious face and again said "Tidak!". Then he ponted at my crotch, and then put the tip of his finger in my mouth and said "you want?". "TIDAK!" I said!! There was nothing dodgy or confrontational about what he did, he simply offered me a blowjob as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do! "I have a girlfriend!" I said, as if this might somehow justify my refusing his generous offer. He just laughed and tried to massage my shoulder again, but by now i was onto him and sidestepped. He thought the whole situation was extremely funny, and tried one last time to get my hotel room number before i finally turned around, said my goodnight's and headed back the way I had come so he couldn't pretend to be going the same way! These indonesians take hospitality to new levels i tell you!
After a night of being eaten by mosquitos and a morning of playing guitar with the hotel staff, i finally made it to the airport. I was very stressed by this point, as I was imagining that due to the floods my flight might be cancelled or delayed, but when I reached the airport i checked the computer screen, and my flight was still scheduled to leave on time. I checked in and went thru to the waiting area. My flight was due to leave at 12:20. When at 1:00 I was still sat in the waiting room and the monitor was still giving my flight's status as "check in", I started to realise something was up. I went up to the counter and asked what was up. "Oh, the planes broken, we're fixing it at the moment" said the girl. "So when will it be fixed?" I asked. "mmmm, no way of telling really", she said, trying to look apologetic. Or maybe she just shrugged. To be honest her english wasn't exactly up to much. By now lots of other passengers had come up to join in the complaining, and suddenly I was surrounded by people far more intent on making a fuss than I was, and so was pushed to the back of the "que", which wasn'r actually a que, but more an imaginary order in which peple would be dealt with depending on how pushy and obnoxious they were being. By far the most obnoxious was an Italian guy, who, embarressingly, was the only other white guy there. He kept saying really unnececarily annoying things like "Look, it's not my fault the planes broken is it? So who's fault is it? (blank look from girl who clearly has very low position) Yes, that's right, it's YOUR fault, so I want you to book me onto the next flight on any other airline, and I want YOU to pay for it! OK!? Right, get me your boss! I demand to speak to the Boss!!!" and so on and so forth. " what a prick" i thought to myself. Surely there was no need to like that? I mean there's no way they could just buy him another ticket was there, they would just send him to the boss, who would try to placate him and tell him he understood his feeling etc etc....
So anyway, I eventually managed to speak to one of the girls, and i explained to her that i had to meet my mother and sister in jakarta, and could she tell me what time that expected the flight to leave. She told me that that were waiting for a part which was being flown out from jakarta and would arrive at 2:20, then after the plane was fixd we'd probably still leave by 4pm, so i'd still be in jakarta in time. So, satisfied that all was well, i went and played my guitar to a bunch of old men, thinking what a stressful time the italian was probably having arguing with the boss all for sake of saving 1 hour or so. At about 3:30 I went back up to the desk. "So, did the part arrive ok?" I asked. "What part?", said the girl. "You know! The part to fix the plane!" I said, shocked that she could forget something so important! "Oh! Ummmm, No." she said, then smiled at me to make up for any upset this news may have caused. "So when is the plane going to leave?!" I asked, starting to panic. Then, the italian turned up, and asked me how i was getting on. I explained that I wasn't doing so great all things considered, and he said "what, you didn't get moved to another flight?!"... "ummm, no. you can do that?" I asked, feeling like a prize idiot. "Well, yes, but you'd have to do it bloody quick, the flight leaves in 15 minutes!" he said. Suddenly siezed with panic I ran about frantically looking for someone with authority who could help me. Eventually, after about 4 reffereals, I ended up in the Lion Air office, and was told that the Bali Air flight was full, so I couldn't go on it. I finally gave in, and adopted the post colonial "I'm white and rich and you'd better bloody do what i say so help you god!" attitude that had served the italian so well, and within minutes I was checking in to the Bali Air flight! I'd asked the boss what time the Lion Air flight was really expected to leave and he told me 6pm, so i was thanking my lucky stars that the Italian had told to change flights just in time or I would have missed my mum for sure!
I said to the guy sorting my ticket, "But what about my bag! I've already checked it in on your flight!". "Don't worry" he said, "give me your baggage tag and I'll get it put on the new flight". "But it leaves in 15 mins!" I said. "Don't worry!" he said, "It's no problem!". No problem for him the lying bastard! but more about that later.... So anyway, I manage to get on the plane, and as we taxi out into the runway, and I'm busy congratulating myself for acting so fast, i look out my window, and guess what i see? Only all the other fucking delayed passengers getting onto the supposedly broken Lion Air flight!! And in a sudden moment of second sight, I suddenly know that my bag isn't in the hold of the plane I'm currently sitting in. It just wasn't possible. They didn't ask what my bag looked like, and to identify it by the number on the tag alone would take forever, and even if they had identified it (which by now i was praying they hadn't) they wouldn't have had time to put it on this plane, so it was probably sat in the airport somewhere, ownerless and flightless, probably about to be destroyed in a controlled explosion by the bomb-squad. I tried to put this out of my mind and tell myself i was being paranoid, but my logical mind just knew it was right, and as I stood there at the empty baggage claim belt after everyone else had left I'm sure i heard my brain sing a little "told you sooo!". I went and told someone official looking, and they gave me what I assume was supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but came across more as an "aren't you pathetic" smile. I was led down a maze of corridors and dumped from one person to another, one departm,ent to the next, until i was eventually told that they couldn't get thru to lion air, and i should just go there myself. Luckily one friendly guy gave me a lift to the terminal.
As you can imagine, losing your backpack 6 months into a one year trip is not just inconvenient, it's pretty much a nightmare. I mean of course I didn't reaaly NEEED any of that stuff, but well, no, fuck it, I did NEEEEED it!!!!! It's my stuff! I'm attatched to it! Clothes i can replace, toiletries i can replace, but all those chargers for my digital camera, video camera, MD player (what can i say, i lived in singapore for 2 years!) couldn't be replaced so easily! And what about my powerpuff towel??!! Where was I going to find on of them in jakarta?! Ok, so i clutching at straws here, i guess it really was just stuff, but hey, it was MY stuff, and I WanteD it!
By now it was already time to go meet my mum and sis, so after telling the woman from lion air what had happened and recieveing a promise that she's try and find me bag I headed down to the arrivals terminal. They're flight was delayed (a recurring theme of the day) and I headed back upstairs. As i sat and waited, gloomily thinking of how much I was going to miss my berghaus walking boots, I looked up to be greeted by the site of an indonesian guy carrying a huge, ridiculous looking backpack. wait a minute! It was MY backpack! Hoooooray! I could have kissed him! (I didn't).
So in the end, my mum and sis arrived. After their long haul flight from London via Dubai, Columbo, and Singapore, they seemed far less exhausted than me! What a day. The only other highlight of the day was mum's bag being searched for bombs as we entered Jalan Jacksa (tourist street) in a taxi! That was all yesterday. Today is another story......
Saturday, August 16, 2003
hey there....
I was contemplatig rewriting that leech story, but as the n key is broken I just cant be bothered... actually thats a lame excuse, i just cat be bothered anyway...
I'm writig a song at the mo about the world situation and stuff.... here's the basics so far:
Every time I watch the news these days,
I see the same old leaders
tryin to lead us into wars with propaganda that they feed us.
As the unelected president of the United States of General Motors,
Plans his next move aimed to help his business partners meet their quotas,
and I-aaaaa
I watch the world just stand asiiide
waiting for their piece,
of the american pie.
Well people try to tell me the ends justify the means,
but I guess these people haven't ever heard the victim's screams,
and there's clearly many questions that I really can't ignore,
like: Is it a just war? Or is it just a war?
And as blair kisses bushes butt and calculates his cut,
NBC does it's best to stir your patriotic feelings up,
and as the peole were protecting, they pile up in the soil,
I'll tell you this, my friends,
Blood, is thicker than oil.
We went in the looking for the W-M-D,
Instead we found a country that was practically empty,
except for one commodity, of which they had plenty,
enough to power bushes car for a century.
State of Emergency
National Security
Fear of an enemy that you can't see
Savin my liberty
that's what they're tellin me,
make more space in the miltary cemetry
Troops in afghanistan
wipin out the Taliban
finishin the job that the russians had planned
overseas enterprise
dollar signs in their eyes
yesterdays allies are soon to be enemies.
-----
Sounds better if you sing it of course!
right, that's all folks! I'm flying to Jakarta tomorrow morning.. wish me luck!!
I was contemplatig rewriting that leech story, but as the n key is broken I just cant be bothered... actually thats a lame excuse, i just cat be bothered anyway...
I'm writig a song at the mo about the world situation and stuff.... here's the basics so far:
Every time I watch the news these days,
I see the same old leaders
tryin to lead us into wars with propaganda that they feed us.
As the unelected president of the United States of General Motors,
Plans his next move aimed to help his business partners meet their quotas,
and I-aaaaa
I watch the world just stand asiiide
waiting for their piece,
of the american pie.
Well people try to tell me the ends justify the means,
but I guess these people haven't ever heard the victim's screams,
and there's clearly many questions that I really can't ignore,
like: Is it a just war? Or is it just a war?
And as blair kisses bushes butt and calculates his cut,
NBC does it's best to stir your patriotic feelings up,
and as the peole were protecting, they pile up in the soil,
I'll tell you this, my friends,
Blood, is thicker than oil.
We went in the looking for the W-M-D,
Instead we found a country that was practically empty,
except for one commodity, of which they had plenty,
enough to power bushes car for a century.
State of Emergency
National Security
Fear of an enemy that you can't see
Savin my liberty
that's what they're tellin me,
make more space in the miltary cemetry
Troops in afghanistan
wipin out the Taliban
finishin the job that the russians had planned
overseas enterprise
dollar signs in their eyes
yesterdays allies are soon to be enemies.
-----
Sounds better if you sing it of course!
right, that's all folks! I'm flying to Jakarta tomorrow morning.. wish me luck!!
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
It's been a while hasn't it?
well, i've not really got a good excuse, as lots of interesting stuff has been happening. You may have noticed that my last post ended rather abruptly. Well, that's because I was typing it from my handwritten journal, and quite frankly it felt too much like work. I can only write if I'm writing from the top of my head....
so, what's happening in my exciting life? I've been battling leeches in the jungles of west sumatra, swimming in crystal clear lakes, lying in my hammock and reading spy thrillers, playing my groovy little guitarlele and jamming with the locals, learning Indonesian, and much more, making it almost impossible to know where to start!
well, I think that rather than telling you what I've been doing, I'll just ramble on about something.... It's more fun that way...
So, leeches. The funny thing about leeches is that they don't hurt, they don't carry diseases, they don't leave itchy bites... they're basically harmless. So why is it that the mere mention of them is enough to send most ppl off into convulsions of repulsion? If you've ever seen one you'll know. They are just about the most hideous looking creature on earth. And it's the way they move! They somehow stand up on their rear ends, and then wave their front end around in the air, as if they are smelling for human flesh, before reaching as far as they can, gripping the ground with their faces, and then pulling their backside up to it. As I trekked thru the jungle a few days ago I saw more leeches in a few hours than most ppl see in a lifetime. And somehow, no matter how fast you walk, they manage to latch on to your boots and start making the journey up to your carefully contructed yet easily penetrable barriers of trouser legs tucked into socks. But here's the problem. Even tho you see them dragging themselves purposefully towards your ankles, there's nothing you can do about it! Because if you stop even for a second to flick them off, 20 others will home in on the foot your not watching and you're back to square one!
FUUUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!! I just wrote an extremely funny anecdote about fighting leeches, and then I yawned and stretched, touching a plug that is precariously hanging out of a loose socket behind my head, and causing the pc to reboot!!!!! And as i mentioned b4, I can only write from the top of my head, so there's no way I can re-write the same passage!!! ARRRGGGHHGGGH!!
I give up. i'm sorry, i tried. If you ever see me, ask me to tell you the one about the 2 leeches and the one that got away.....
by the way, I'm currently staying in meninjau, a lake in West Sumatra, Indonesia. My mum and sister Seren are coming out to spend 8 days with me on sunday in Java!
well, i've not really got a good excuse, as lots of interesting stuff has been happening. You may have noticed that my last post ended rather abruptly. Well, that's because I was typing it from my handwritten journal, and quite frankly it felt too much like work. I can only write if I'm writing from the top of my head....
so, what's happening in my exciting life? I've been battling leeches in the jungles of west sumatra, swimming in crystal clear lakes, lying in my hammock and reading spy thrillers, playing my groovy little guitarlele and jamming with the locals, learning Indonesian, and much more, making it almost impossible to know where to start!
well, I think that rather than telling you what I've been doing, I'll just ramble on about something.... It's more fun that way...
So, leeches. The funny thing about leeches is that they don't hurt, they don't carry diseases, they don't leave itchy bites... they're basically harmless. So why is it that the mere mention of them is enough to send most ppl off into convulsions of repulsion? If you've ever seen one you'll know. They are just about the most hideous looking creature on earth. And it's the way they move! They somehow stand up on their rear ends, and then wave their front end around in the air, as if they are smelling for human flesh, before reaching as far as they can, gripping the ground with their faces, and then pulling their backside up to it. As I trekked thru the jungle a few days ago I saw more leeches in a few hours than most ppl see in a lifetime. And somehow, no matter how fast you walk, they manage to latch on to your boots and start making the journey up to your carefully contructed yet easily penetrable barriers of trouser legs tucked into socks. But here's the problem. Even tho you see them dragging themselves purposefully towards your ankles, there's nothing you can do about it! Because if you stop even for a second to flick them off, 20 others will home in on the foot your not watching and you're back to square one!
FUUUUUUCCCKKKKK!!!! I just wrote an extremely funny anecdote about fighting leeches, and then I yawned and stretched, touching a plug that is precariously hanging out of a loose socket behind my head, and causing the pc to reboot!!!!! And as i mentioned b4, I can only write from the top of my head, so there's no way I can re-write the same passage!!! ARRRGGGHHGGGH!!
I give up. i'm sorry, i tried. If you ever see me, ask me to tell you the one about the 2 leeches and the one that got away.....
by the way, I'm currently staying in meninjau, a lake in West Sumatra, Indonesia. My mum and sister Seren are coming out to spend 8 days with me on sunday in Java!
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