I was surprised at how nostalgic I became when I arrived. Even the currency I'd exchanged into Rupiah brought back a comfortable familiarity. Hearing the language again was like hearing a favorite song on the radio. My tongue said words that I knew I'd said before, months earlier, but couldn't remember the meaning. My sentences would finish automatically, and then I'd ask the meaning of what I'd just said. Indonesian food isn't anything to brag about but I found myself salivating over the thought of my favorite local foods and couldn't wait to try them again.
In Dumai, where I arrived on the ferry, an English teacher found me waiting at the bus station's office. He said he heard there was a westerner in town and wanted to offer me free accommodation in return for English conversation with his students. Who told him I was in town? I'd just arrived less than ten minutes ago! So went the rest of my Sumatran experience. Especially on weekends, tourist traps were just that, traps set by adolescent English language students hunting for English speakers to practice with. The practice consisted of poorly worded questions that their teacher obviously advised they ask such as, "Do you agree with the economic crisis in America?" "Do you prefer Indonesia or America?" I couldn't believe that any twelve year-old was interested in the answers of their prepared questions (they weren't) so I changed the subject and instead asked them about where they came from, what was their favorite music or football team. Afterwards they all huddled around to get a picture of the tourist. The danger of speaking with one group of students is it gives the other groups a chance to move in where you repeat the same cycle of unanswerable questions-"Excuse me sir. What's the difference between America?"-then pictures and signatures while another group prepares to advance. There aren't many tourists in this part of the world so students would wait outside my guesthouse waiting for me to leave in the mornings. And to think some people are afraid to come here for fear of being attacked by radical Islamic terrorists. Forget about the terrorists, but keep a keen eye out for the English students!
Poor weather kept me from staying long at either Bukittinggi or Padang and I found myself on the island of Samosir in Lake Toba. It is said to be the largest island inside an island (that being Sumatra.) The lake is a crater lake and green hills surround the entire thing. Not much happens on the island so it's a nice place to relax, eat, explore waterfalls, take a swim or play chess-all of which I did my fair share of. The owner of my guesthouse and I played a minimum of five games of chess a day. I beat him once, drew twice and lost every game otherwise. After a week of staying and eating at the guesthouse he offered a challenge; one game of chess, I win and I leave without paying my bill, he wins and I have to stay another day. He won, I paid but still left that afternoon.After a series of ferry, taxi and bus rides that lasted all night into the next morning I arrived in Pulau Weh, an island off the coast of Banda Aceh at the tip of Sumatra. Pulau Weh is gorgeous! I scored a wooden bungalow with a palm thatch roof and a hammock that's actually over the ocean. And not just any ocean, beautiful, calm, warm, blue-hued ocean full of colorful fish! The area I stayed was quite cozy. If anyone arrived we all knew about it. A surprising concentration of Americans arrived but also Germans, Belgians, French, Dutch, Chinese, Italians, Koreans and Malaysians.
Most of my days consisted of, or at least included snorkeling or scuba diving. The snorkeling was amazing. Beforehand I'd only seen a lionfish on two occasions in the Philippines. I saw seventeen of them here in an hour of snorkeling. Around dusk some beautiful blue fusiliers could be found schooling around some coral heads just in front of my bungalow. If classical music could be seen, visualized, it would take the form of these schooling fishes. That's how I'd describe it.
It was this spectacle I was on my way to witness when I thought the quest for a sea snake was over. Literally right in front on my bungalow, two meters from where I knelt to rinse the spit out of my mask was a snake, banded in black and white! It was searching for food in the cracks and holes around. As I watched it I began to have doubts. After all it just didn't act completely snakelike to me. Something was off. I was right, I found a picture of one in the dive shop's book on marine life. It was a harlequin snake eel. Not reptilian at all. I didn't have to wait long though. A few days later on my last day I found one and this time had no doubt as to what it was. A banded sea krait, potentially deadly but very placid. It took no notice of me as I watched it poke its head into cracks and under coral looking for small fish. I pushed my lungs to the limit as I dove down a few meters to where it was, and gently held it while still allowing it to hunt. As much as I was enjoying myself I was freezing from being in the water for nearly two hours and had to get out.
The diving was also nice although sometimes I felt like the snorkeling was better. A bit unfair to say probably as you don't have much to think about when you're snorkeling whereas I was concerned with my buoyancy, air consumption and decompression limits while I was diving. I dove six times over the course of two weeks, including once at night. I hadn't been too taken with diving previously. It's different, and interesting but I wasn't sure if the cost was worth the reward. Here in Indonesia I better realized what diving was-which is simply breathing underwater-and what it isn't-it's not a breathtaking experience every dive where you constantly see sharks, whales, turtles, etc.-and I think now that I realize this, I've become not only a better diver, but I appreciate diving more. I'll be excited to go again sometime. I'm sure it'll be even more enjoyable with old friends and my ultimate goal would be to dive with my dad who was certified nearly thirty years ago. [So here's a formal request to my father: When are we going diving together Dad?]
Indonesia remains my favorite Southeast Asian country and a place I hope dearly I'll get to return to someday. Before boarding my flight (which only cost $40!) to Malaysia I had one last straight-razor shave in a barber shop and went around town sampling my favorite foods one last time. It was then, while I was on the back of a motorbike receiving smiles from girls in headscarves, waves and salutations from businessmen and curious friendly glances in traffic that I confirmed it; I love this place! The landscape of Indonesia is beautiful and diverse, the people are friendly, the language is a joy and the climate is pleasant. I like how sandals are quickly kicked off before entering a home or shop, how Indonesians touch their hearts after shaking hands, the faint smell of cloves in the air and the sound of a pop star singing a love song on the radio in a language I almost speak.
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