Indonesia Revisited

The decision to return to Indonesia was becoming more and more appealing. A part of me had seriously questioned whether to leave Indonesia back in May, or postpone my outbound ticket and spend some more time in Java and neighboring Sulawesi. In the end, I took my friend Alison's advice and left. Six months later, there I was, full circle through Southeast Asia only a ferry ride from Sumatra, my Indonesian horizon.

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.

Best-Case Scenario

"I've heard climbing near Krabi is good." "Oh yeah! Tonsai is where you want to go."
"You've been?"

"Yeah. Couple years ago. Meant to spend two weeks there and stayed for three months."

"Three months! Haha. It's that good huh?"

"Wait 'till you see it."

"But I don't have any gear."

"No problem, just meet other climbers. Everyone's cool there."

The conversation I'd had three months earlier in the Philippines was fresh in my mind as I walked down the beach. Nobody. Beautiful rock, but no one to climb it with. Unwilling to shell out the cash of a guide I'll move on tomorrow-another disappointment.

I went back to my book, which I'd put down hours earlier in order to go find some climbing buddies before I gave up, and picked a beach chair next to two girls who were also reading. Slightly disappointed I dove back into the plot of an African boy destined to be the welterweight champ of the world. And then she moved. It wasn't her movement that was significant, but what she moved, a pair of blue, lace-up, Boreal climbing shoes.

"You're a climber?" I tried to sound more impressed than facetious. My tone landed somewhere in the middle.

"Yeah, but we're taking a rest day today." She pressed an index finger onto her skin and waited for the color to return to where she pressed, the international test for sunburn. "You just get here?"

"Yeah."

"How long you staying?"

"Well, I planned on a couple weeks, but I'm not sure. How long've you two been here?" Their eyes turned up and their mouths hung open like they were thinking about a math problem, trying to count the days before answering in an air of disbelief that it's really been that long. I would ask a lot of people that same question over the following days and they would all answer the same way, some people's math taking longer to compute than other's.

"We're going to try the traverse at the end of the beach. You want to come?"

That was how I met the M's; Emily and Emma. And how, less than four hours from arriving on the beach, excited to climb the surrounding limestone that was everywhere but feeling dejected that I'd fail to make friends in time, I was bouldering ten feet away from the Indian Ocean who's horizon was extinguishing a golden sunset behind me. The best part being, I wasn't as weak as I thought I was, the technique hadn't left me, my hands weren't bleeding and I could still climb! We made plans to climb together the next day and I just then realized, I was living my own best-case scenario.

The M's and I climbed together the next day, then took a trip to Ko Phi Phi, an island whose infrastructure was completely destroyed by the 2004 tsunami, and climbed there before we split up and I went back to Tonsai. The scene in Krabi is quite diverse. There are four main beaches in the area; Tonsai, Railay East, Railay West and Pranang Beach. Pranang is the nicest beach but there's nowhere to stay apart from a few resort style hotels. The Railay beaches are back-to-back, facing in opposite directions so the accommodation is basically the same, but East's beach is nearly non-existent and has a muddy bottom whereas West has sugary white sand and a view of the sunset. Railay West is the posterchild. Through the jungle, or over the hill or around the rocks at low tide are the three ways to get to Tonsai, where I stayed. The sand is coarse and the point offshore hides the sunset before it dips into the sea, but it's quiet, it's cheap and it's where most climbers decide to stay.

It seems everyone is a climber to some degree on Tonsai. During evening meals and over an apres climb drink, patrons are physically recounting the day's climbs with their hands in the air, grasping invisible pinches, sidepulls and slopers of invisible limestone at their dinner table.

There are loads of climbs suitable for every level of climber as well. To my climbing buddies I would describe it like this: Imagine Wild Iris (that's near Lander, WY to my non-climbing buddies,) increase the vertical, take away the mountains towards South Pass and insert the Indian Ocean, replace antelope with monkeys, increase the humidity, decrease the summertime heat to around 80 with plenty of shade trees and add a sleepy town within walking distance of the crag where there's plenty of food to shove down our necks when we're done! Then you'll be getting close to what it's like.

The deciding factor of where to climb in the morning is usually related to which climbs are going to be in the shade. The first day with the M's I asked if we really needed an entire bottle of water for each of us. They assured me we did and by ten o'clock we were all quickly finishing the second halves of our bottles. It didn't take long to realize these girls could climb. Although I'd been climbing longer than them, they had a clear mental edge when it came to lead climbing. They led everything without batting an eye while I was more hesitant and decided to let them have the first go before I would then lead. We climbed all day that day and I cleaned our gear off the final route in the dark by headlamp! We couldn't possibly have climbed anymore.

The fact they invited me to Ko Phi Phi was actually quit nice since, we'd be going as a group and be able to share a room and climb together. The ferry departed early the next day. I think we were all shocked at the amount of people, stores, bicycles and noise that was on the island. The funny thing is that Ko Phi Phi isn't any more loud or crowded than any other popular island in Thailand, but after being in Tonsai where there are only two trucks in the entire village (and one's broken) you take for granted the stillness of that place. We all instantly wished to be back in Tonsai!

To escape we went to Long Beach at the other end of the island. We were saving ourselves to go climbing the next day and dedicated this day to finding a sea snake and working on our tans. I grabbed my mask and rented some fins and set out to find my reptilian friends. The visibility was about nine meters and I was swimming in about ten meters of water. So I could just make out the bottom and still have a nice view of the coral formations that rose up closer to the surface. I didn't see much and slightly regretted not waiting for the others because now I was alone, bored and about two hundred meters from the shore in ten meters of water. I was thinking about swimming back to shore when the biggest reef shark I've ever seen made up my mind for me! I've seen sharks before while SCUBA diving, but never snorkeling. And it should be mentioned that whereas I'm not afraid of much while I'm diving, I'm afraid of everything when I'm snorkeling; trash, jellies, seaweed, you name it. This shark was over eight feet long and swimming off to my left. He didn't seem too interested in me, but I suppose that's what they want you to think. My first reaction was, O crap a shark! then the biologist in me thought, O cool a shark! and I started swimming towards it, not necessarily to get closer to it, but I felt more comfortable when I could see it than when it disappeared which it didn't take long to do. I turned around wondering if maybe I should go back when another one came out, a little bigger, looking a little hungrier and I decided my mind was made up. Forget the sea snakes, bring on the tan!

The next day was a lot of fun and like the time before, we were finishing the day in our headlamps. The view from the top of the climbs was amazing and Emily and I decided to do a multi-pitch climb to take advantage of it, but when she climbed up to meet me at the top of the first pitch I couldn't feel my legs anymore due to the hanging belay cutting off my circulation, so she finished the second pitch and I rappelled down. Emily was the most adventurous that day, especially when she was climbing the hardest route of the day, just between the last bolt and the anchors and was attacked by monkeys! I'm not kidding, they climbed up the tree next to the rock and went to attack, I don't' know how she kicked them off and stayed on the rock, but we had a good laugh about it afterwards!

When I got back to Tonsai I met Rob, a Canadian climber from British Columbia. We climbed the following day alternating between easy and more difficult routes. I was belaying him on the first route of the day when it started raining. Fortunately for him the rock was overhanging enough he wasn't getting wet. As for me, I was pressed up against the rock trying to stay dry and the neighboring monkeys, excited from the rain were running through my belay area! Fortunately they were nice monkeys, unrelated to the thieving mongrel monkeys of Ko Phi Phi. After climbing all day and successfully climbing a route I'd fallen on earlier we headed for our daily meeting with the Fried Chicken Lady who sells delicious, grilled chicken (Grilled Chicken Lady doesn't have the same ring to it) and mango sticky rice for a little over $1.

The following day was going to be a rest day. I woke up late, read a few chapters of One Hundred Years of Solitude and then went to a leisurely breakfast. I was halfway through my iced coffee when Emily showed up with her friend from Bahrain. They had only arrived the afternoon before and were going climbing that day, would I like to come along? Sure! Rest day or not, I wasn't about to miss a climbing opportunity. We went around to East Railay and spent the day climbing there. We found some really fun moderate climbs that afternoon and I was happy to see another part of the area where I hadn't climbed yet. Then, at the end of the day, after we raced the incoming tide back to Tonsai I met Rob over some grilled chicken.
"You climb today?"
"Yep, we were at 1, 2, 3 Wall all day."
"Are you tired?"
"You mean do I want to go climbing tomorrow?" he shook his head yes. "Yeah, I'll go with you tomorrow!" I laughed.

Just then a newly arrived couple came to browse the delicacies of the Fried Chicken Lady. Rob and I voiced our approval of the food and after they ordered they sat down on broken plastic chairs and asked us, "You been here awhile?"
I furrowed my brow, looked up at the sky with my mouth open as I calculated my own silent math problem. "Yeah, I guess it's been two weeks now." And the circle was complete.