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/