The Fellowship of Friends

After arriving again in Bali and meeting up with Olivier we both began to get itchy feet. We needed an adventure and both of us had wanted to go to Java and see the sights around Yogyakarta, or Jogja as it's called locally. Less than 48 hours later we were on a plane bound for Java and it's temples and mountains harboring volcanoes and crater lakes. What would follow over the course of the next several days was one of the best trips I've taken so far and a personal highlight.

In order to save on accommodation costs and meet some people we decided to couchsurf in Jogja. Couchsurfing.com is a website of hosts who open their doors and unfold their couches to travelers passing through the area. As it turned out, there was a gathering of couchsurfers in Jogja that weekend from neighboring towns and some came all the way from Sumatra and Jakarta. Not only did we make friends this way but Tami, a friend of ours in Bali, used to attend school in Jogja and gave us the number of some of her friends. She couldn't stand to be away from the fun though, so that weekend after some begging, pleading and convincing, we got her to fly out for the weekend. Her group of friends are all part of an adventure club at the university who regularly go rock climbing, trekking and rafting. Within the first day of meeting, we had plans to go camping and climbing at the beach and then rafting the river the next day! It was great!

We camped out under some beautiful limestone crags within earshot of the crashing surf. The following day, Tami arrived and we climbed as much as we could before going back to Jogja that evening. The next day we left early to make it to the river in time. We had a great time rafting and joking with other rafters who passed us. I loved the spontaneity of it all, we hadn't planned any of this and yet it was better than anything we could have arranged ourselves. Unfortunately, Tami had to fly back to Bali that night to be at work the next morning.

Olivier and I caught the early train to Surabaya the next morning in order to see Mt. Bromo. Everyone talks about visiting Mt. Bromo during the sunrise. It sounded great and peaceful so we decided not to miss it. I had a picture in my mind of hiking to the top and sharing a spectacular sunrise with a few other tourists. The reality was a little bit different. The sunrise was still great, but I shared it with around four hundred other tourists! Most were Indonesians taking advantage of the weekend holiday from Surabaya and Jakarta. We still were able to capture some great pictures overlooking Mt. Bromo and the volcano behind it.

We had one more stop on the way to Bali. Kawa Ijen crater is... well, it's a crater. But it's unique in that the lake in it's center is about one hundred degrees and there is a sulfur mine in it's crater where local men collect the sulfur and port it out on their backs. Again we woke up before dawn to begin our hike up the mountain. It's around 2 km up a steep trail to the crater rim, and another kilometer down to the lake. It really is a sight to see, as men chip away blocks of the acidic rock and pack it in baskets to be carried out. Sulfurous smoke rose up from pipes and burnt our eyes and lungs. It's not exactly a pleasant place to sit and gaze out at the lake but I wouldn't have missed it. The men carry around 80 kilos on their backs at a time, the going rate being 500 rupiah per kilo making their 6 km, 5 hour journey worth about 4 US dollars. The men were very nice to talk to and regularly asked if they could bum a cigarette and wanted to know where we were from. When the wind shifted and we were unable to move, see or breath they took us by the arm and ushered us to fresh air with smiles on their faces. We hiked down and began the long bus journey back to Denpasar.

I'm happy to say my final days in Indonesia were spent with friends. That's what makes this trip stand out against the others. I've made friends nearly everywhere I've gone but the closeness that I shared with those in Jogja and in Bali surpasses all the rest that I've met in Indonesia. There were several requests that I stay longer, and I entertained the notion for awhile. Repeated compliments about my Indonesian language skills really made me want to stay longer, but in the end I had a plane to catch and I decided to board it. I won't soon forget my friends in Indonesia. Olivier was very generous in allowing me to stay with him while I was in Bali and I truly enjoyed traveling with him. We have plans to meet again in France later this year and I feel like I will be back in Indonesia someday also.

It's amazing to think that my Indonesian experience has been shaped by a chance meeting with two fellow travelers after I had been feeling sorry for myself. I'll never forget when I met Olivier and Handa. And I thank God that it was raining that day.

It's s....l...o...w...

Due to the expense of internet time, and the inconsistency of internet speeds (or the consistency of getting very slow connections) I am not going to post pictures here. Instead you may view pictures here at: www.flickr.com/photos/terrylove

Hopefully this will be easier for everyone.

Thanks

Terry

Timor of the Rising Sun

I got a lot of strange looks when I told people I was going to East Timor. They told me the borders were closed and I’d be denied at the border, that all foreigners were to obey a strict curfew since the recent assassination attempt and that there was a lot of anti-Western sentiment. Fortunately, I found none of this to be true. I had only planned on going to East Timor in order to renew my Indonesian visa and then return to Bali. What started out as a four day trip turned into a nearly two week vacation walking around the capital city, Dili and meeting with people from all over the world who work for various NGOs and the United Nations.

My guidebook says the UN presence has left East Timor. If so, I can’t imagine what it was like before. UN police and peacekeeping forces are everywhere. Seemingly every other vehicle is a nice Mitsubishi SUB or Toyota Hilux bearing the giant UN letters or the symbol of any of a number of non-governmental organizations. As a tourist, I was somewhat of a novelty. Instead of being asked, “How long have you been traveling?” I was asked, “Where do you work?” I met people from China, Japan, Philippines, Cambodia, Malaysia, Norway, Britain, Jordan, Australia, Fiji, New Zealand, the United States and Portugal. Some had legitimate jobs; some were nurses, policemen or advisors. The others, when asked what they did could only state they were initiating dialogue. The topic of dialogue and the members and perceived outcome were usually quite vague.

I made a few good friends while I was there. Some Chinese policemen cooked me dinner a few times and let me use the internet in their office. I visited a local school and counted beans with some of the students (it builds focus and concentration is what they told me.) And I met the advisor to the Secretary of State who showed me around Oecussi and was an exceptional host. That night over a glass of red wine as the sun set, he told me the history of this, the youngest nation in the world, from the Dutch, Portuguese and Indonesian influences up to independence only eight years ago. I have never had much interest in history, maybe it was walking the streets in Dili or visiting the site where the Portuguese first landed on the beach or maybe it was the buildings in Oecussi still fire scorched from the plundering and tyranny of the exiting Indonesians, but I held on to every word that he said that night.