Farewell Sulawesi...

Today is June 18th, it is 1:40pm, I am at Manado airport waiting to board my flight to go to Medan, via Jakarta. Take off @ 2:45 pm, landing in Medan @ midnight.

While I was eating a nasi goreng at the airport restaurant, I had a little moment for pride. Two tables away from mine were sitting two Chinese girls, probably my age. One of them asked the waitress in English if she had some fresh coconut. The waitress did not understand...so after seeing that the Chinese girl was clueless as to how to use Indonesian words, I just said quite out loud, while looking at the waitress, 'kelapa muda'. She looks at me, then at the girl and tells her 'no have'. Half an hour later, the food the girl had ordered arrives on her table. The girl asks the waitress if she has any chili. Right away, the waitress reaction is to look at me for help, I tell her out loud 'sambal'. She gives me a big smile and goes to get the chili for the girl. Et voila...for about an hour, I felt like a fully integrated tourist-local. Sweet feeling to have!

OK, now...que paso after the Togians?

I left Sifa's cottage with two other French people (from Toulouse...holly cow what a strong accent they have...but cool, not the typical French travellers), at around 5:30am, by wooden little tuk tuk boat headed to Dolong, more than an hour away, to catch the supposedly 7am ferry to Bombulan. (The ferry didn't actually depart til 9am!)

The sun was barely starting to rise on the horizon...beautifully magical to be on the water at such hour and all alone gliding on the water as the sun is waking up.

We arrive to the very beautifully modest and simple fisherman village of Dolong, welcome, as usual, by the locals, as if we were superstars.
We finally embark the big metal ship,.,a long 5 hours airless steaming hot ride. Oh well...

All three of us finally arrive at Bombulan at about 2 pm...there, between lots of haggling, loss in translation, and simple patience, about two hours of sitting on the ground later, while threatened by the huge black clouds, we finally embark a kijang (mini van sitting maximum 7 people + driver), to Gorontalo. I had under my seat a live chicken. Oufffff...the ride was supposed to be a quick 3 to 4 hours, but ended being a very very long 5 hours...(only travellers can really understand the difference).

While on the way, I receive a txt message from Aslan telling me that both Mica and Jyrki are also in Gorontalo. So am totally thrilled as I will get to hang out some more with a few of the Kurva team! Eppaaaaa! Grande!

The first night in Gorontalo was probably the craziest. We arrive, check in at Sahara hotel ($5 a night for a room), then head straight to the main square to meet up with the two Finish. The square is amazing. Filled with young kids, boys and girls, doing break dancing tricks all over. Some battling, some practicing, some just chilling there. The usual evening hobby of the local youth there. I am fascinated. Gorontalo is just in the middle of nowhere. Seriously. Poor phone reception and bad internet signal. But yet, these kids manage to be totally up to date with today's youth 'hip hop' culture from NYC. When we got there, Mica and Jyrki are already pretty soaked in beer and arak. We get a quick bite, then the two French go back to their hotel and leave me with my kurvas, as well as Ednan, a local from Gorontalo, whom I had met in Kadidiri on my last day, and whom also drives a Bentor (local rickshaw). So what next? Hmmm...Ednan suggests the red light district. Keep in mind that Gorontalo is mostly Muslim...so to find the red light district we have to drive (on Ednan's bentor) quite far and off the main road...no road lights nor signs...hmmm

We get there by 1 am. Uffff...not many people at all for a Thursday night, but we will do with what we have. A few beers go down, some arak for Ednan, me trying to get the pseudo DJ to play some latin music, we made it home by 5am. Uffff.....a 24 hour day for me. The details of what happened during those 4 hours is between my Kurvas and myself. Lol wasn't remotely close to any sort of Vegas night at all.  :-)

I stayed in Gorontalo about 4 days, enough to renew my visa for another month, thanks to Aslan who accepted to be my sponsor, see my little Lola and my family live via Skype for the first time in a month and a half, and attend Aslan's father in law's Muslim funeral diner celebration. Quite an interesting experience. Gorontalo is not so bad a city after all.

Day 5 early morning, I catch yet another 10 hour car ride, this time to Manado. That ride felt much shorter and faster than the 5 hour ride to get to Gorontalo.

Upon arrival in Manado, I checked in at the basic budget Rex Hotel. As basic as you can get: a mattress, a room twice the size of the bed, a piece of mirror on the wall, a window, bathroom in the hallway, no fan, no AC. Ha, and guess what!? Both Jyrki and the Turkish couple from Kadiri were staying there as well. So i spent the following 3 days in Manado hanging out with Jyrki. Tons of fun in this chaotic, polluted, extremely hot and not so interesting city. Basically many shopping malls (way smaller than basic american giant malls), lots of food places, and tons of street garages, hardware stores. Kind of like a typical souk in the middle east, but scattered all over the city.

Curious fact about Manado: it is a very very christian city, so for the very first time in my life, in the 'third world' all stores were closed on a Monday. What a shock!

(Little parenthesis here: the crew of one of the local airlines just walked by, wow! Nothing to do with the old, unpretty, unclassy crews of American Airline and the other US airlines. Lol end of the parenthesis)

(Parenthesis #2: the plane I will be flying is a Lyon Air plane...a plane from this company crashed a month ago. I thought that it would have the ticket prices to tank down, but it seems that it was not the case. So we will see what happens I guess...if I had a parachute it would make it fun at least...a free jump opportunity. Lol such a long time since my last jump, I miss it quite much. End of parenthesis #2)

I have decided to not dive in Bunaken. Yes it is supposed to be a top dive spot in Sulawesi. Bunaken is only an hour away from Manado. None of the forum posts I have read managed to convince me that it was that spectacular, and in all honesty, the giant city of Manado did not give me much of a good vibe that its close neighbour of Bunaken could be much better. So I prefer to save that money to dive in Sumatra and most importantly in Flores and Komodo.

My last morning in Manado, this morning, was actually a bit funny.

After waking up and brushing my teeth, I walked to the front desk down the hall to ask for my tea and morning pastry (both included in the price of the room) to have a sort of mini breakfast. As I walk in the sort of lobby, a big group of about 10 students welcome me as if they had been waiting all night for me to arrive. Hilarious! So I shout at them a loud 'selamat pagi!'

While I order my breakfast I sit down on the couch, quickly surrounded by all the students. And on they start their typical English class tourist interview homework. Lol it was so funny!

Et voila...then packing, and off to take two mini vans to make it to the airport! Bon voyage!

Hello Sumatra!

Today is Saturday 22nd June, it is 7:36pm, and am sitting in a mini van with 17 people, stuck in traffic in Medan, on my way to Lake Toba. It is frrrrrrrrreakimg hot. A five hour ride which promises to be quite intense...So I thought that this would be the perfect context to wrote habit about my first few days in the immense island of Sumatra.

It is quite funny to read some of the travel forums online and see what people post about Medan. The comment most often found is 'on the top 10 worst cities in the world, Medan is definitely at the top'. This simply goes to show that many people who think themselves as travellers should get out of their house more often, as Medan is not crazier than any other big third world city...and am staying this only after spending twice half a day in it, going from one end of the city to the other.

But my first real stop in Sumatra was actually the world famous town of Bukit Lawang, probably the biggest natural reserve to find our close red head cousin, the orang outang.

Bukit Lawang definitely has something magical to it.

Have you ever stumbled upon a family of orang outangs in the trees right above your head, and watched the little new born try clumsily to learn how to climb the jungle vines and jump from one to another?

We hiked in the majestic jungle for a good half day, and saw about 30 of these primates, as well as many macacs, Thomas Lee long tails, and gibbons. The gibbons were quite hilarious. Located way higher than any other primates, they were hanging form the highest branches as if they were doing chin ups.

The two day jungle trek was quite fantastic, but could have been much better for some reasons I will explain further down.

The deal was to go with two guides, three tourists, hike for two days, with a stop along the river for the night, and get back to the town the second day, by tubing.

Well, the jingle and orang outangs (as well as tigers) being the main reason foreign tourists come to Bukit Lawang (local tourists most only come to play around in the river for the day) there are continuously MANY tourists hiking at the same time and along the same path in the jungle.

Our group initially started with 7 tourists and 4 guides, and quickly became 11 + 7. What a way to feel isolated and discrete in the jungle to silently observe the fauna.

One should know that orang outangs, in addition to being in extinction also are very sensitive to human germs, which seems to be one of their main cause of mortality. So one of the key rule to abide by is to never leave any detritus, not even fruit peels, behind you, especially if you are sick, as the primates could very easily get infected. This seemed to be entirely foreign to the guides.

Another primordial rule is to never ever feed the primates in the jungle. First it makes them more dependent on humans to find food, but second, it makes them more aggressive towards human when these no longer feed them. This rule again, seemed to be foreign to the guides trekking with us. The guides just got used to feed to primates so that these latter get closer and the very naive and stupid tourists can take their photos thinking that the primates would naturally get this close just out of curiosity. Yeah right!

Another rule is that one should never smoke near a wild animal, even more so near such a sensitive animal as an orang outang. Well, you guessed right. The guides do not really care about this. I eve. Caught one guide lighting up a cigarette while sitting near a primate and almost holding its hand.

Oh, and well, the number 1 rule in nature: do not litter. Well, all the garbage accumulates in two days, and for 18 people's worth of food wrappers, detergent...all filling up a quite large plastic bag, was actually left hanging and open on the beach behind us w we left camp the next day. I yelled at one of the guide that they had forgotten the trash, but he just ignored me..seems to be a common behaviour in Indonesia, just ignore all comments about littering.

The trek was nonetheless magical. Fantastic trees and so many primates from so close. I am still stunned however to see that out of all the tourists in the jungle during these two days (we met them all along the two day and then back into town) ONLY two of us actually realised all the wrong doings of the guides. The other person is Nick, by far the most adventurous person I have met in my life. And he is British! Lol he was a wild life guide in france, and in Peru. He also crossed all of the middle east, Asia, south america, Europe, by truck, as the driver and being paid for it. Ha! He could have definitely been party of our crazy Kurva team in Kadidiri. Him and Mauro could have a travel battle. :-)

Anyhow, this morning, just out of genuine hope to try and make things change, I went to make a complaint to the guide center in town, explained everything to them and gave them the names of our main guides. I highly doubt they will do anything about it (rotten corruption mixed with dramatic laziness).

It surprises me so much how through this trip I have discovered a side of myself I had not real awareness about before: I actually genuinely and sincerely care about the environment. In Toronto and in Washington, it has now been a sort of fad for years to be 'GREEN' so I never really knew the degree to which it was ingrained in me, but now I realize it, and I am quite convinced it will have an impact on my daily life and behaviour when and if I move back to the western world cities.

(It has been 1.5 hours already, and we still haven't gotten out of the city...ufffffff it is soooo hot, am dripping sweat crunched against the window which is jammed and won't open...it is going to be a very long night...)

I realize I didn't paint the most romantic picture of my time in Bukit Lawang. Let me try to fix this right now.

The town is built around a narrow river stream (center for some great white water rafting during the wet season). Three basic hanging bridges allow people to cross back and forth from one bank to the other. Along each bank are numerous home stays, some older than others, souvenir shops, and food warungs and restaurants. The further up you walk toward the jungle, the more expensive each site gets.

The first and main bridge is hovered by a gigantic tree, falling like an umbrella. Magnificent.

At sun set, all the locals get down in the river bed for their daily 'mandi' and laundry. Such a spectacle. (Still, when you think about the fact that no one here knows about bio degradable soap and detergent, it makes you wonder about the impact on the environment and the river fauna & flora after those daily use of chemicals.)

My hotel was right at the foot of the main bridge, so I was able, from my room, to see everything that was happening in the river. Seeing all these local families and tourists playing in the water as if it was their very first time, the locals from BL giving to their daily rituals at the same very spots each and every day, while hoards of macacs are going back and forth from roof to roof, watching their cousins the humans do what they are themselves afraid of. It is almost surreal.

Yet, none of this even rivals with the absolute romantic beauty I witnessed while randomly venturing along one of the tiny little side canals running parallel to the river, but through the poorest little villages downstream. Indeed, my very first day in BL, I wanted to get away from the mainstream extremely populated and touristy center of the town/river.

So i found this canal, and just walked along it...for a good hour,
What a spectacle I saw. The canal's width was no more than 3 meters, and no deeper than 1.5 meters, and running along a dirt banks and under canopies of giant lush trees, surrounded by each little village's wooden houses/huts.

Everyone in each village goes into the water around the same time, as of it was a community happening, every evening. Son the kids play with the kids. The women hang around each other, sharing gossips while doing their laundry. And then men do the same. Strange to see that women and men do their own laundry. Or so it seems.

So when yo walk along the canal at that hour and every single person in the water is acknowledging your presence by a huge smile and a 'hello mister, you're handsome', and from time to time even invite you to join them in the water if you haven't already showered. Being a very Muslim place, there is absolutely not an inch of nudity showing, so not much sensuality, yet tremendous tradition and authenticity. People just constantly want to kick start a chat with you and show genuine curiosity in you. I didn't see a single foreigner on this path, and no guide book even mention it, so am not sure how many 'buleh' actually venture that way. Hopefully not that many, so as to maintain some secrecy of the place.  :-)

Bit throughout the whole walk I felt such a strong itch to take a photo of just about everything, non stop, like a Japanese tourist in Paris, and only wished I had a good video camera with me. But after what in experienced during the funeral celebration in Toraja, in Sulawesi, I don't really want anymore to bother people by taking disrespectful photos of them as if they were circus freaks. So I enjoy for the simple pleasure of my eyes, and the photographic memory of my brain, and I love it just as much.

(It is now 9:30pm, we exited Medan, and the traffic is slightly more fluid, at last...but the road is no highway, but rather a simple one lane street.)

Though I had intended to go up north to Aceh, the northern province of Sumatra, and the most Muslim part of all of Asia, I did not seem much enthusiasm about the diving there on the different travel forums, so in hard my mind at the very last minute. So after the small yet very busy Bukit Lawang, no off to the bigger, yet way more quiet Lake Toba.

(Ha! The traffic has stopped, we are stuck between a truck and a bus. The heat keeps rising. Am listening to Juan Luis Guerra 'El Niagara ams Bicicleta' on my iPod...and laughing at the situation am in right now, when I think that I could have just tried out for a chill evening in Medan, slept there, and taken a cooler and bigger bus tomorrow morning...oh well...I love it...the taste of misadventure which actually means adventure. Darn window that still won't open! Hahahaha )

Buenas noches!

Mabul & Sipadan: more PHOTOS!!!!!!!

...from back in Mabul/Kapalai/Sipadan...last month in Borneo!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/52537245@N00/sets/72157633297553285/

Tana Toraja...landscapes from heaven.

Here are some photos of Tana Toraja...the most famous place for its culture centered around funerals. Just an unbelievable place as I already recounted in my previous posts. The perfect place for some serious solitary trekking...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/52537245@N00/sets/72157634176129542/

Derawan baby turtles release at moonlight...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uxxNsY__Kc&feature=em-upload_owner#action=share

Derawan, Borneo: PHOTOS!!!!!!!!!

Here are some long due photos from my heaven time with Fede, Guilia, Jon, and the giant turtles...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/52537245@N00/sets/72157634170226057/

The Togians...

Today is Wednesday 12th June 2013.
It is 8:38am, and I am sitting in a boat in the little floating village of Dolong, departing to Bombulan...

The past three weeks have been nothing but pure fulfilment and happiness.

My  first niece was born on June 5th!!!!!!! Her name is Lola! Both mother and daughter are in good health. It was the most frustrating thing ever to be on the island, and without a single way to even call my sister. I did receive a text message from my mom to let me know that Lola was born, but the island being secluded as it is, text messages are about the only way to connect with the outside world...that is when the cell phone signal does want to work a little and show at least one bar of signal.

In my adult life as a traveller, there have been only two places in the world where i have found that the reality of the place actually surpasses its reputation: Brazil, and the Togians.

Today is the first time i touch my tablet in the past three weeks, and surprisingly enough, during these three weeks, I have not once felt the need nor desire to touch it to write about about my trip.

Though this experience will most definitely stay engraved in my memory forever, I still want to lay things down 'on paper' in order to be able to accurately and in details recount the bridge to heaven that is the archipelago of the Togian islands.

So here it goes...

Once upon a time, there was this French 'bule' (white tourist in local indonesian), finally able to leave the most secluded mining town of Kolonodale, after having made great friendships with a few locals and learnt a great deal about Tue local culture and the life style of people working in the mining industry.

It is May 26th, the sun is rising on the coastal town of Ampana, Central Sulawesi. I depart my losmen, Wisma Irama, to reach the little port and hop on the ferry to Wakai, main port of the Togian archipelago. On the ferry are only four 'bules'. Myself, a mid 40's Polish couple (who seemed like they had been having an uneasy time on their trip thus far), and what would become my most amazing roommate for the next two weeks to come, Chantal, 24 years old, Dutch-Canadian, absolutely fascinatingly well travelled and full of energy and stories (Yes, another Pisces). In so many ways, Chantal reminded me so much of Katherine, that it took me a few days to not call her Katherine, but Chantal. (Thank God she didn't even realise it).

Anyhow, there we were, en route to the most heavenly and mysteriously secluded of destinations, aboard this little ferry. Though Chantal and I spent most of the 4 hour ride, energetically chatting and sharing travelling stories on the top open deck (she got major sun burns from it), I also managed to make friend with the owner of the boat, Nadi, who also happened to be a great singer. Oh yes, little curious and definitely unique fact, the captain's cabin had a big karaoke screen, and Nadi spent most of the trip wandering around the boat with his wireless microphone, singing many songs in multiple, languages. This all was a perfect way to start this leg of my trip!

Finally we arrive to this tiny harbor: Wakai! Talk about seclusion!
As I am about to leave the boat, Nadi gives me his number and tells me to let him know whenever I am aboard his boat, as he would make sure that I don't pay a cent for my rides. (Good to know!)

Both Chantal and I had plans to stay at the same place and on the same island, Pondok Lestari, on Kadidiri. So we both waited until the little tuk tuk boat from Lestari showed up to the port. When the boat arrived, we saw a group of four young French people getting off (I guess you can hear French tourists from quite far lol). Anyhow, their look and attitude didn't make me want to reveal where I was from. No way, too ashamed to be assimilated with these four 'bodo' (idiots in bahasa Indonesia). So we had a lengthy conversation about their experience at Lestari, but all in English, without them even suspecting anything, nor even ask Chantal and I a single question about ourselves. Estupidos!
According to them, Lestari was a total dump, not welcoming at all, with a useless staff. Oh well...I suppose French people, thanks to the behaviours of such idiots, are stereotypilly reputed for being quite unconstructive crtitisizers. Shame!

Chantal and I looked at each other with a tad of suspicion all the way to Kadidiri. But when the beach was in sight, wowwwwwww! All suspicions disappeared immediately! We had arrived in heaven...a most secluded heaven. I just couldn't believe how any human being could possibly have a negative experience in such a place. Simply not possible!

The price of a bungalow on the beach, literally, 3 meters from the water at high tide, was rp100,000 (or about $10) a day per person, including all meals, and unlimited tea, coffee and water. Ha! You do the maths...I quickly did: $3,650 per year and fully fed, for a bungalow in heaven. If you know of any better deal, please let me know.

Only one bungalow was left, so chantal and I shared it. 

It didn't take long for us to meet Aslam (a young local from Kadidiri, very well eloquent in English, and who owned the boat used by Lestari, always wanting to chat about travelling, organising little trips island hoping, and most importantly, with a fantastic sense of humour; the owners of Lestari, Aka, a true Bajo and phenomenal spear-fisher, and his wife Mama (Mama is Aslam's sister); Raman (Aka's brother), his wife, and their absolutely most unbelievably adorable two daughters, Leha and Vidi; and the animals, Lucas, Ipo, Pirka (who gave birth to five little puppies 2 days before), and the cat of the house who gave birth to 5 kittens a couple of weeks before. How to not fall in love with such a welcoming environment?!

But that's not all. As if this was not enough to already paint a perfect portrait of a heaven, Lestari also had some guests who made the place and experience even better. Mauro, a 39 year old Italian chef and avid spear fisher, he has been living a dream life, from country to country and continent to continent, working for a few months and vacationing for even more months. Any exotic country, you name it, Mauro has lived in it for at least a year, and has the most entertaining stories to recount. I don't think I have ever met anyone in my life as entertaining and sociable as Mauro. For the past 4 years, Mauro has spent a total of at least 2 years living at Lestari!!! And this year only, has already been there for 4 months.
Then there was Jyrki. 24 year old, Finish, and has been travelling throughout Indonesia for numerous months. He has been at Lestari a total of one month. Jyrki is by very very very far the most hilarious drunk this planet has to offer. Not a single one men show comedian could ever compete with him. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah...
We were soon joined by Pierre and Marie, an early 30's French couple, (both teachers back home.) who knew India inside out, and who have been travelling on land from france all the way to Indonesia for the past two years. So obviously quite many incredible stories as well.

We called ourselves Team Kurva. Inside joke which I shall not disclose on this blog. Hahahahahahahaha :-)

For a brief few days, our bunch was also joined by Suzanna (mid 20's Dutch), and Ximena, 34 year old beautiful Argentinian woman. Finally, a Latin soul on my trip!!!!!!! Was so good to speak Spanish for a few days!

I think you get the picture that what made this heaven a heaven was mostly its people.

For the landscape, well...just picture a long white sand beach, coconut trees, transparent turquoise blue water, lime stone formations, and bright sun shine...

Oh, did I mention that each bungalow had a hammock on its front porch, that because of the sea breeze there was no mosquito, and that at night we would sleep with open door and windows thus perfectly hearing the sound of the waves crashing on the beach?

Our bunch spent most of our time gathered in the dining patio, sipping some hot tea or boiled water, and either sharing some funny stories (mostly from Mauro) or dream chatting about European food. (The only little downside of Lestari was the food quantity and quality, but we easily overcame this). Another past time we took a great liking for was the crafting of jewelry and black coral bracelets, under the tutoring of Aka. And well...Togians being a paradise for live and colourful giant corals, we spent quite a lot of time snorkeling off of the beach.

This island of Kadidiri, though quite huge, has only one beach with cottages. So right next to each other as if there were part of one and only cottage you have on the right side, Pondok Lestari, 100% Bajo run, then Black Marlin, a much more modern yet still maintaining a feel of localness, and then on the far left, Paradise, a much bigger cottage with many bungalows and a resort-like feel. Paradise hang out spots and long jetty fully justify its cottage's name. We even managed to spot some dolphins crossing the horizon while watching the sunset on our third evening from the Paradise jetty.

Black Marlin, due to its antisocial kind of arrogance rejected the other two cottages and thus its guests quasi never mingled with those of Lestari or Paradise. (Both Black Marlin and Paradise offered diving trips). Ha! Yes, even as remote a place can show some political conflicts.

On our second day, Aslam took us (Chantal, myself, and two kind of anti social German early 20's...well...not so anti social with Jyrki, hahahahahha) to the stingless jelly fish lake (similar to the one I went to when in Derawan, but not as dense), and then to the famous Karina beach (white sand and twisted coconut trees beach you see in most websites and magazines about the Togian Islands). Karina beach, like most beaches in Indonesia, was a bit of a disappointment. Chantal, Aslam and I spent a good hour picking all the plastic drifted on the beach to gather it beyond the reach of the high tide. I can't stop feeling angry and sad about the careless littering in Indonesia...and the fact that the two young Germans just laid down on the beach watching us collect the plastic without moving a finger.

Towards the end of our first week after arrival, Ximena came by Lestari (she was staying at Black Marlin, so very little chance to actually meet her) to inquire about scissors and potential help to cut her hair. Mauro gave it a first shot...but his hand was shaking a bit. So I happily took over. I have been cutting my dad's hair every time I can for the past few years, so why not help out Ximena. :-)

I think the result was quite good actually. He he! I would even go as far as saying that it was hot!

We took advantage of the opportunity to invite her to join us for our two-day trip we were planing for the following days, to go to Una Una, the whole Kurva Team, accompanied by Aslam and Raman. She gladly accepted our invitation.

So off we went, the following morning at sun rise. All 8 of us, on this traditional green wooden tuk tuk, powered by two lawn mower little motors. The water was as clear and turquoise blue as can get, with at least 25 meters of vertical visibility.

The plan was some morning snorkeling and spear fishing in the marine forests of beautiful corals; lunch cooked on the beach, and made from the fish caught in the morning accompanied by freshly cut coconut from the hovering trees; afternoon snorkeling at a different spot; make camp in this tiny little old wooden stilt fisherman hut on the broader between the beach and the jungle on the island of Una Una, and prepare diner with the fish caught in the afternoon. We were 8 people and all very starving from so much snorkeling...just to give you an idea of how many big fishes we had to catch for each meal. Groupers, trivalies, batfish, snappers, sweet lips...grilled on a wood fire and sprinkled with coconut oil for the most part. Yummmmmmmy!

Well...that plan was executed in total perfection! Only little change, Suzanna, Chantal, Ximena, and myself decided to sleep on the beach, surrounded by active night crabs, and under a couple of tall coconut trees where giant bats spent most of the night either fighting or working at increasing the size of their family. :-)

The sky was filled with stars, each one shining more than the other, and from time to time, tilted by a few shooting stars. For some reasons, the moon (full) only showed up at around 3am. Could hardly get more romantic than that.

Mie goreng and hot tea breakfast, and we hit the sea again for yet some more snorkeling. Another heavenly day ahead...

After an extended morning of snorkeling, we slowly made our way back to Kadidiri, escorted for part of the way by a group of 8 to 10 dolphins...magical!

The first ones to greet us back on the beach at Kadidiri were Leha and Vidi, with screams of joy and sunny smiles. Though our little trip was most magical, we were happy to be back 'home'. Yes, home, as the minute you first arrive on the Lestari beach and surround yourself with the family you immediately feel at home. Such a strange feeling to have in such a remote and secluded place.

Leha's smile is so magical, and can brighten any cloudy day. The poor joy miracle fell sick for a few days during the second week. All of us got so worried and tried all we could to help her out and get that magical smile back on her adorable little face. I spent hours passing cold and wet cloth on her forehead while caressing her head, like my mom used to do to me when I got sick as a kid. It took her two days to get better, to the joy of everyone at Lestari. What a relief! And just like that, the sun was up again, shining stronger than ever. :-)

Then sadly, the following days, the Kurva Team started to split, slowly.
Ximena left the day after the Una Una trip, Suzanna the following day. chantal left a few days after, leaving a feeling of total emptiness in our bungalow. Mauro left the same day as Chantal, to go to Gorontalo to renew his visa before returning to Kadidiri. Then Aslam left also, taking a couple of guests on a 6 day boat trip around the Togians. The cottage and the beach fell so quiet all of a sudden. I left last Saturday, with a few tears in my eyes while watching Leha and Vidi blow me kisses from the beach. Pierre and Marie left a day after me, and Jyrki left on Sunday.

I had decided that before leaving the Togians, I wanted to see another of its islands. So, based on Pierre and Marie's suggestion, I headed to Sifa cottage, on the island of Waleakodi. This meant one hour tuk tuk ride from Kadidiri to Wakai, then 3 hour ferry ride from Wakai to Malenge (ride for which I didn't pay. I had called Nadi to let him know I would be on his boat. He wasnt there but still managed to let his crew know that I didn't have to pay and that I was a VIP guest, lol ). And last but not least, a one hour tuk tuk ride from Malenge to Waleakodi at night under starry sky.

Malenge is a magnificently cute little fisherman's village, half on stilts half on grassy hilly land. Beautiful. I wish I had had enough time to spend a few nights there as well, but time was limited due to my visa expiration date...yes, almost already two months in Indonesia!

Sifa and I spent most of the ride sitting on the edge of the tuk tuk 's roof, chatting about her life and about the Togians. The sky was just like at Una Una..., magical feeling to be the only ones riding so low on the water, and under such magical starry sky. (I was so sad when Sifa told me that Ximena had left her cottage that exact same morning).

As we were getting close to the beach shore, because the sea coral had left place to tall sea grass, and thus active plencton life, as the front of the boat was moving forward on the water, while rubbing against the plencton, it created bio luminescent reaction in the water, like I experienced in Fajardo in Puerto Rico, though to a much lesser degree.

I left Kadidiri with a few tears and sadness in me, but the transition to Sifa cottage smoothened it a little thanks to the continuous beauty encountered along the way and Sifa's gigantic smile.

However, yet again, I came to realize what I had realized when I left Federico and Guilia after Derawan to go to Sulawesi; strong nostalgia and a slight desire to be anti social for a while as I would hardly be able to meet such amazing people again...or so I thought.

Each and every time, it gets harder, yet I manage now to replace these feelings of nostalgia by pure joyful memories.

I arrived at the cottage right on time for dinner. The only other guests there were a German couple, and a Finish couple. Not really worth any comment. Zero interest, though I still can't believe that the German girl suggested that a solution to the littering in the country would be for the tourists to boycott the whole country until they stopped literring, while the Finish girl suggested that the best solution would be to stop the corruption in the government. Ha! You would think that people coming from such western countries would be a bit more educated and knowledgeable about what's going on in the world and how things work. Oh well...they both left the next morning...thank God!

I forgot to mention that upon arriving at Sifa's I was told, to my great joy and surprise that Aslam was docked on their beach for the night as he Sifa's was part of the island hop trip he was making with the couple of tourist. Gosh, I was soooopp happy to see him there and spent the evening playing dominos and chatting about a few gossips on kadidiri. Seeing him there, given my nostalgia of kadidiri was like seeing a close family member...it felt great and made the evening and arrival on Waleakodi much easier and a tad less nostalgic.

I stayed at Sifa cottage a total of 4 nights and 4 days. Though at first my impressions were not at all meeting up to Pierre and Marie's, it is unfortunately only yesterday that the dynamics started to totally change at the cottage and that Sifa started to open up quite a lot. A few more days there would definitely have been fantastic, especially given a few daily trips to the nearby bajo village where I got beat at ping-pong (17-21) during my first visit there...the ball was oval and the table was a varnished door...but still, I lost. Aggrrrrr...

I could keep on and on for hours trying to describe how amazing of a time i have had in the Togians, but none of it would get even close to the full reality of the amazingness of these past three weeks. Had I not already booked a ticket back to France and then Toronto, I would have gone back to Kadidiri for another month.

The upside though is that I will get to see my family and Lola in France, as well as Sebastian & Alma, Carlos, Sebas & Kristen, and the rest of the crazy Toronto gang!

So off I go...with a light heart yet filled with joy and marvelous memories...en route to Gorontalo, where I will hopefully hang out with Aslam (his wife lives there and he will be there for two weeks due to his father in law's funeral). Then, off to Sumatra where I hope to meet up with Chantal and Ximena. Yes, I decided to do Sumatra next, as I don't have that much time before august. I will do Flores, Lombok, Komodo, Sumbawa, Bali, and Java when I return in September/October, before heading up to Nepal.

Farewell Togians...
The boat is big and all made of metal. It is so hot here, not a breeze of air around, yet the memories of Togians, and the thoughts of the adventures to come, keep me fresh and cool...

Everything is OK

http://make-everything-ok.com

Observations: batch #1

...about littering:
Consumer packaged goods companies must stop producing one time use portions in plastic sachets as these produce much pollution after each use. Yet on the other end, producing much bigger portions like Costco does would entice consumers to over consume.

Which is better?

> For the consumers, single use portions. Well, that is for uneducated and undisciplined consumers.
> However, for the environment the definite solution is much larger containers allowing consumers to refill their needs from a main container. 
=> overall I do believe that since the main mass littering cultures come from the 'third world' and that these do not necessarily have the financial means to consume large quantities, producing rather large containers would not necessarily push them to over consume, and would thus be a tangible solution to littering.
Littering in the 'first world' / western world is mostly about beverage single portion containers.
Consequently, while the solution to littering in the third world is for the CPG companies to produce much larger containers and stop producing single/small portions containers, the solution for the western world is definitely to implement refilling stations, and rewards the establishments that do so. I strongly believe that implementing both these solution simultaneously would work and have a positive impact on the environment without necessarily harming consumers' healths.

...about reading:
Indonesians never ever read!!! It might seem crazy, but in the three + weeks I have been traveling in Indonesia so far, I have not once seen a single Indonesian read, nor have I seen a single magazine or book store.

...about being isolated away from westerners:
It is so strange to me that I am always seeking for destinations where I see as few westerners as possible in order to really feel away and in a different place, yet, I have now been the only white person/westerner in this town (Kolonodale) for more than 10 days, and I am tired of the lack of western presence. Mostly I think, because I miss speaking a normal English, and being able to a really have a normal and deep conversation with someone about a meaningful topic. Some normal eloquent interaction. I think, if I knew I were staying in this situation for much much longer, the alternative to not further lower my English skills would be to further my learning and practicing of Indonesian.

...about coffee:
I just realised today, May 23rd, that Indonesians do not use filters when making coffee.

...about scooters:
I assume that the laws wants that the driver of any motorcycle (scooter or more powerful) wears a helmet.

It appears that 95% of cases, scooter/moto owner only have one helmet, thus when driving their family, wife and kids are left without any protection.

Should the scooter/moto owner have two helmets, one is used by the father, one by the mother, and the kids are left without protection.

Δ scooter/moto owners usually carry their whole family on their machine.

...about gas:
I have been noticing all along Indonesia so fat that though the country is very rich in natural gas and is a big producer of it, at every single gas station, pit of the several pumps available, only two are working, and there is constantly long lines of cars, scooters and trucks waiting to get filled up.

I have been told that the price of gasoline is a serious factor in the daily life cost, yet to this day, I havent seen the price of oil go up once.

So I remain stranger by such phenomenon...

...about hygiene and religion:
Question: (specific to what I have seen so far in Asia)
When Muslims are preparing to pray, they carefully wash hands and feet to address to God. Why then can't they also respect the same norms of hygiene and cleanliness when it comes to their own lives and surroundings? It seems very hypocritical and contradictory to me. Should not you abide by the same rules when addressing to God than when addressing to your self and/or our neighbour?

Same goes for other religions who take good care to maintain a very clean 'temple', but do the opposite for their own house and community.

...about travelling:
It is apparently very rare for a foreigner to travel through some parts of Sulawesi. Even more rare for a foreigner to travel alone, and even more rare yet, for a foreigner to travel alone and also be single. I guess if I were also blond with blue eyes I would be as rare as Santa Claus! Lol