Kolonodale...

Today is 16th May.

Kolonodale is a tiny port town, mostly inhabited by people working in mining due to the surrounding mining exploitations. The last time there were tourists in town was a week ago!

Before the night fell when i arrived on the 14th I managed to quickly find a place to sleep. Very basic, but seemingly clean.

Yesterday, I spent a few hours in the house of the only remaining local (named Akin) voluntarily helping inquiring foreign or local tourists with information about the Morowali natural reserves and potential itineraries to follow for those who wish to discover the beauties it hides in its forest and meet the remaining nomadic Wanna tribes. I told him that I would have to wait for my leg to get better and maybe for other tourists to arrive in order to split the costs and head out to the jungle trek. When he saw my leg, he suggested that I swing by the nearby hospital, just in case. So after lunch, I did so.

The emergency room is literally just one single room, populated by a staff of one 25 yr old doctor and four 20 yr old nurses...and about 5 cats, and some other insects coming in and out as the day goes by. I will not even comment about the cleanliness of the room, as it would definitely frighten many. The AC is only in the staff room, letting the patient room be like a boiler, and I even caught someone smoking inside the patient room!!!
In any case, when I arrived in that room everyone was just ecstatic at seeing a foreigner (buleh) in their room. After I played down on one of the four beds (more like a wooden board covered with a foam mat and plastic top) followed a photo session with each staff member and other hospital staff attracted by their curiosity at hearing the commotion happening in the ER, while none nurse was cleaning my wounds. Well, it seemed that my wounds are a bit more alarming than I thought. I was prescribed antibiotics and no walking for at least three days, due back in the ER on Saturday afternoon. :0( hmmm...read the signs Gregory, stop jumping around from place to place and spend more time at each place. I had in mind to go through many countries during my trip, but I think i want to rather focus on a few. Burma, Nepal, India, Pakistan. I still want to see Vietnam, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Cambodia...but these can wait I suppose.

Anyhow, once my wounds were treated and I got all taken care of, since I was the only patient in the ER, and since I had nothing better to do (either go back to my hostel bed and lock myself in, or go back to the food stall chair I had occupied most of the morning), I asked if it was OK that I stay around for a while, saying that I was a lot more entertained in their company than alone of my hostel. They couldn't be happier. :-)

And so I stayed, from 2 pm to 9 pm, in the Kolonodale emergency room, entertaining my hosts and being entertained by them, while learning a ton of culture, being hit on by every nurse, male and female, tasting new dishes and drinks kindly offered to me. In those 7 hours, including myself, there were only 3 patients that came by. One case of dengue fever, one case of gastritis, and me. But the other two patient almost got no attention at all from the staff, despite the pain they were going through, since I was the one getting all the attention. I felt terrible and so I started focusing my own attention to the other patients rather than on the staff. It kind of worked. At 9 pm, after a few Facebook adds, one of the nurse who ended his shift gave me a rise back to my hostel.

Ha, between all the hours I have spent in hospitals, with my different surgeries, burns, torn ligaments...I would normally do all I can to stay away from hospitals. But this time I insisted to stay an entire day in the ER.

Being bed ridden alone in the pit of the world, where the only foods you can find are either rice or noodles, and with neither internet nor TV, oh, and where people do not speak your language, is quite a pain I could hardly forget. Thank God I at least have a few books on my tablet to keep me busy.

The worst part is that I haven't even been able to walk through the town to see if there are any other place better for spending my days reading and blogging than the food stall where I am right in front of my hostel. This town is on the water and surrounded by jungle, so it should have a multitude of beautiful spots I suppose.

Though I do love to scout for stories, I think that so far, I could have managed without this one. Oh well...let's see where this one takes me to...

[...]

It is now 5:50pm, my mom just called me for a few minutes, and hearing her voice couldnt have made me happier. She does not know yet about the scooter accident or she would freak out...I do wish she were here to take care of me like she used to when I made boo boo when I was a kid. :-)

[...]

We are now Saturday 18th. I have been in town since Tuesday afternoon.

I just went to the hospital like planned, for them to change my dressings and clean my wounds.
Though I had a great time last time I got quite frustrated this time while observing the man nurse as he was proceeding. He really made me doubt he and their abilities a doing their job. Absolutely no hygiene regulations respected whatsoever!
I even had to stop him as he was about to apply a piece of cloth soaked in an antibiotic solution and take that up on my wounds for the next three days! How is a wound supposed to dry up and build a scab if it is drowned 24/7 for three days!? I had him call a doctor who spoke some sort of English to explain him that as he was clueless. Quite frightening!

I am very frustrated now, as my wounds still have a bit of a way before they scab up well enough for me to hit the road again, and even more so for some jungle trekking which is the only reason why I came to this town. :0(

I am also growing quite very tired and deceived of everyone calling me out by 'hello mister!' All through the town, yet not a single one inquiring by any mean of communication, about the state of my bandaged leg, or even offering to carry me, if only just for a couple of blocks, on their scooters as they ride through the town by lazy ness instead of walking. It almost feels like a very fake welcome ness or sign of attention.

In any case, it is now 3pm on Saturday, and as the muezzin is being heard for the third prayer of the day, I am back in my plastic chair, in the same Chinese restaurant I have been hanging out in since I arrived.

It is so hot that I am motionless, dans sweating just as much that way as I would be if I were walking in the bright sun for hours.

This town is micro...about 1000 people. No tourism at all what so ever.
Surrounded by a huge protected natural reserve on one side, where Wana people live, some are at more primitive stages than others; and on the other side, huge mining exploitations. Thus, the main activity of the town is mining. Quite a few Chinese come and go for trading business purposes with the mines' owners.
The town also has a small floating kampong like most coastal towns, and an important port, mostly for commercial trading purpose.

I have been here for a week and am the only white person in town. There were two other tourists a week ago it seems, but none for a while before that. Most tourists head to Lore Lindu reserve on the west side of central Sulawesi.
So far, among my many encounters in town, only two people speak English. One is the only person still volunteering his time to provide information about the Morowali reserve and its potential trails among the Wanna settlements, his name is Akin. Mid 40's, widowed, two daughters, and about to remary to a dutch-indonesian who will give birth to a baby in November. The second English speaker, David, is a young 27 yr old engineer who is from Sumatra and who is probably one of the most educated person I have met on my trip (foreigners included). He knows all about European politics, the different nationalism and independent movements in France, Ireland, Spain,...as well as the history of many other parts of the world, just unbelievable is the culture of this young man who has only travelled to Singapore and Malaysia, and has learnt everything in books, TV and internet. One of David's company's client is a Chinese company. Of which, one of their sales rep is here for a while, his name is Arvin. 31 yr old Chinese. It has been quite interesting too converse with him about his views on communism in China, the one child policy, and the situation of Tibet. He is little by little opening more and more to me, and not being as defensive as he was the first day I arrived.

Kolonodale has one big soccer field, a mosque, a small hospital, three lodging options (I went for the cheapest one), one little roofed market, morocco style, bunch of food stalls, all offering the same, things, one post office, one very very bad internet place, and a few other hardware and grocery stores.

Funny enough, after looking for postcards for the entire duration of my trip so far, I finally managed to find a few in Toraja, at last! When I tried to go mail them this morning, May 18th, at the post office of Kolonodale, I was informed that I would have to wait for another week for stamps to arrive from the nearest bigger city of Palu. Ha! Just goes to show how small of a town I ended up in. :-)

Like many towns I have crossed so far, but perhaps even more so because I am motionless all da at the same spot in the town, it feels like every one and no one is working.