The Moterbike Diaries

Well, today was pretty exciting. With some apprehension (on my part at least), we decided that the best way to see Sirosam, the massive island in the biggest lake in Southeast Asia (Lake Toba) on the third biggest island in the world (Sumatra) was by motorbike. This island in the lake on the island is so big that there is a pretty sizable lake right in the middle of it. A tad confusing, I realize, but I have a high opinion of the deductive logic of my readership. So, as you can imagine, to see the island a motorbike was a far superior choice to, say, a real bike, or heaven forbid, walking.

So, this morning we rented our bikes (they gave us the keys, told us how to start it, asked “Do you know how to drive? Yes? Good.” and then told us “LEFT, LEFT, LEFT” because Indonesians drive on the wrong side of the road. They then told us about ten times that there was no insurance so we shouldn’t get in a wreck. Thanks…). We had three destinations in mind, the furthest being 45km down the road, and we had seven hours to accomplish it. No problemo.

We started off (a little shakily) but we soon got the hang of it, and the drive was STUNNING. The only road on the island circles it, never more than about 200 yards from the lake edge with its turquoise water and crystal clear depths (this lake is about 1500ft deep, a half a kilometer), while the other side of the lake is ringed with volcanoes and lush vegetation. The people here are Batak, a people famed for their highly advanced culture and the fact that they didn’t stop eating each other until 1825. They ceased their cannibalistic ways because, after killing the first 30 or so missionaries that wandered into their villages, a German Protestant arrived, achieved boy band fame status and now Samosir Island is literally filled with sober protestant churches.

Of course, some beliefs die hard, and at the first village we visited, next to the massive Stations of the Cross garden were the stone chairs where just over 100 years ago criminals sentenced to death were cut, chili and garlic was rubbed in their wounds before they were finally beheaded. Hallelujah.

Surprisingly, we are three of about 30 Westerners on this massive island so every little kid (literally EVERY LITTLE KID, and there’s a lot of them) says “Hi! What’s your name?” even as you’re zipping by at 40km/hr. One older lad even came up next to me on his motorbike and said in good English, “Hi! My name’s Franz. What’s your name?” I think I got out my name and where I was from before he correctly deciphered the look on my face that said “Terribly sorry, but if we keep carrying on this conversation at speed on a winding road, I’m quite sure I’m going to kill us both.” He sped off after attempting to shake hands with me (attempt failed).

Lunch was an interesting affair as well. We stopped at a little wood lean to that looked like it might contain food, went in and performed the international signal for food, the hand to mouth while saying “food, food?” A vigorous nod and a big smile from our hostess and her older neighbor who showed us some pots simmering in the back (I think we might have stumbled on family dinner rather than a restaurant). Anyway, it was a big bowl of noodles and some veggies and red things on top, served with 5 hardboiled eggs. The younger lady showed us how to unshell the eggs and, of course when I’m finally presented with a food I recognize, I immediately managed to rip the egg in half and get egg yolk pieces all over the table. My sheepish grin and “whoops” delighted our hosts and the old lady very patronizingly opened another egg and plopped it into my noodles. It turns out the soup was REALLY spicy, a fact I didn’t appreciate until I had already inhaled it. The sweat pouring from my face (it’s been a cool day) and the tears on my cheeks were about the funniest things I think these two ladies had ever seen and they just laughed away. It took a hot water and a sprite to quench the flames. Not bad for a $1.80 meal for three!

We finally reached our destination, after seeing some traditional Batak houses, boats, dancing, and obstinate water buffalo that just won’t get off the road no matter how much you honk. The destination was some volcanic hot springs, but we were so hot and tired and rain threatened so we left the deserted springs and began the long trek home. Long story short, we made it, but I can barely sit and my forearm muscles are still vibrating.

Moral of this story: motorbikes are not comfortable vehicles.

Jungle Eddy

I’m determined to catch back up, so I’m going to relate the happenings of our jungle trek in Bukit Lawang a few days back. It was mostly just extreme exertion punctuated by moments of near death falls along the extremely steep and treacherous jungle trails, so I’ll keep this fairly short. Our guide, as the title suggests, was Jungle Eddy, a local guide/cook/nature expert and on the second day, Captain Eddy our guide as we tubed back down the rapids the 10km back to Bukit Lawang.

We trekked with two Aussies and a Kiwi, all doctors, all awesome. We’ve actually spent quite a bit of time with them since (they’re here on the island with us as well) so all in all a good group. The jungle was legitimate jungle. Trees as high as the eye could see, massive poisonous centipedes as long as my forearm, and water, water, everywhere, even when it wasn’t raining (which it’s done every night I’ve been in Indonesia).

The brief highlights: Orangutans. Lots of ‘em. Most were wild, so we couldn’t get too close, but they were majestic creatures, slow moving, swinging from branch to branch with their incredibly expressive faces. Jungle Eddy recognized each one and called them by name, as the ten or so we saw all called the area home. Black and white gibbons. Only a few of these made an appearance, but apparently they’re incredibly rare and everyone was really excited to see the first two. Unfortunately the last two we saw about 5 hours into our trek and everyone was really just too tired to take out their cameras. Sorry gibbons.

The best part of the whole trek, however, was getting to the river after the grueling first day and literally falling into the cold, fast flowing water. That is bliss. Then, after a fabulous Indonesian dinner of rice with tofu, chicken and vegetable curries we chatted with our guide for a while. Eddy was about 30, married with two boys. He had married his wife after knowing her for three months at around the age of 19. Unlike most of the other young men in Bukit Lawang, he had completed two years of high school, but it was too expensive for his family, so he didn’t graduate. A massive flash flood in 2003 that killed 289 villagers from the already small and economically depressed area carried away much of his extended family. It was an event that probably barely caused a ripple outside of North Sumatra, but it was painful and sobering to see the devastation wrought by Mother Nature on such a personal level.

Back to the trek: the next day, heavy rains precluded us from trekking another grueling 10km through the jungle so we were forced to sit in the sun by the water all day and play cards. I don’t think a single one of us was disappointed. Luckily, we were still able to return via tube along the river, an event that actually turned quite intense in a few white knuckle, white water parts of the river. We returned safe and sound.

"Mistah, you like local now"

Sorry for the delay- the jungle is more remote than I imagined... This is a post from three days ago, I'll try not to get too far behind and get up to date tonight or tomorrow. I'm in a guesthouse on Lake Toba, a MASSIVE lake that formed from a volcanic crater that has an island the size of Singapore in it. That's where I am. Not bad... Anyway, without further ado!

What a fifteen hours it’s been. To frame it, I woke up this morning in the air conditioned heaven of the Old Penang Guesthouse, had a breakfast of toast and blackcurrent jam, and got on a bus to the airport. As I write, I’m sitting in a mosquito net teepee on the banks of a small river in the middle of a little jungle town in Sumatra, Indonesia. It’s been an interesting journey.

The flight from Malaysia to Medan, Indonesia was only about 25 minutes, shorter than the Jacksonville to Atlanta flight, except international. We stepped out into the barely organized chaos of Medan, fought off the several extremely persistent cabbies and made it to an ATM. The exchange rate in Indonesia is about 8,500 Rupees to the Dollar, which, besides being incredibly hard to calculate and communicate, makes one feel like Richie Rich. Pulling out a cool one-hundred and fifty thousand in any currency is a nice feeling. It’s a pity that in a land of no ATMs or pay phones or running water, this may not last as long as I’d hoped. Oh well, we’ll survive. Maybe. Also, as for communication, you may know how to count to ten in lots of different languages but I challenge you to count from 1,000 to 1,000,000 by one thousands in any language other than English. It’s hard for everyone…

But challenges aside, we made it to the bus stations where the next leg of our madness began. We were headed to Bukit Lawang, near the entrance to the State Park we’re about to trek in (known for its Orangutan feeding areas) and the bus ride was to take about 3 hours. We were in a bus that probably sat about 9 comfortably but had been restructured to fit, well, 16 (plus one baby). Nathan, on the seat in front of me actually had a poor Indonesian woman, head shawl and all perched on his lap, while I had a young guy passed out on my shoulder. Not ideal, especially in the unbelievably sticky heat.

But the real drama was outside. Before we’d even gone a mile, traffic stopped and it was soon apparent rubbernecking was to blame. However, rather than the normal accident scene, there was a huge mass of people and stopped cars blocking half the road. In the middle of the mass of people, two men were yelling and very nearly coming to blows. Everyone was leaning in for a closer look, including the very entertained policeman who was more likely to be taking bets than stepping in restore order. Apparently, according to the guy on the bus who spoke some English, these scrums formed around arguments over taxi fares and car accidents and nearly always ended in fights, sometimes resulting in death for those who were particularly at fault. Considering the crazy driving (I have probably spent more time this week in the wrong lane passing and nervously praying that the driver would dodge oncoming traffic than most people do in a lifetime in the States) I imagine this scene was played out fairly regularly across Medan.

The pavement ended well before the city did, and thus began the really challenging part of the journey. We zipped along in our cramped bus, through hills and down river valleys, flashing past little hovels and massive palm oil factories. Every few miles or so, we’d pass a ‘school bus’ which was usually carrying about 30 kids crammed inside and at least another 15 clinging to the top, back and sides for dear life as the bus skidded around the curves. Not safe.

However, at long last we made it to Bukit Lawang, which was, surprisingly, nothing like I imagined it. Compared to the burgers, beer, and backpackers of South Thailand, this was charming, cheap, and backpacker free. We finally made it off the beaten path. Thanks goodness. The kids and locals all say hello, and I’ve been the subject of many a photo with the delightful local kids. The only bridges are wooden planks laid haphazardly over a rickety wire frame dangling over the fast flowing, shallow water below. Surrounded by mountains, jungle and with monkeys swinging from rooftop to rooftop, this is paradise.

After settling our plans for tomorrow, Meredith, Nathan and I headed to the river to go for a swim. Locals in all stages of washing were all along the bank but we jumped straight in, swimming against the strong current and dodging the sharp rocks. Within minutes, we were the center of attention for all the local boys who were jumping, swimming, and practicing their English with the fun foreigners who were brave enough to swim the cold and dangerous waters with them. They closest they got to getting my name right was ‘Kroos’ but it was an A for effort and we had a ball until the parents came and yelled at the kids. They all produced little packets of sample Pantene shampoo and began washing up. Nathan and I begged a little extra off of a little boy and we washed our hair with them (for the first time in too long…) much to their delight.

We finished up, dried off and had some dinner of spicy peanuts, capping one of the best, most enjoyable days I’ve had in a very long time. We leave for a two day jungle trek tomorrow, so we shall see!

Penang: Has it all!

Well, I’m going to skip an entry on the goings on at Ko Phi Phi, Thailand. If you really care to find out what kind of place it is, Wikipedia is your man. Stunningly beautiful, glad I went, but I have nothing of any value to relate, truth be told. Also, any lengthy reference to it might take away from the paradise that is Penang, Malaysia to a Thai-weary backpacker in need of some politeness, cleanliness, and safety. The border crossing between Sandao, Thailand and Malaysia was a nice taste of what was to come. The town of Sandao was dirty, crowded, and chaotic with elephants sharing the roads with the cars and bikes. The customs officers demanded a 10 baht “holiday/Sunday” fee for our driver that we’d refused to pay him. One final scam in a land full of them… However, on the Malaysian side, a friendly smiling customs official waved us cheerily through after reading the American quotes on the pages of my passport. Only the large sign that said “Be forewarned, death for drug traffickers under Malaysian law” gave any sign of a serious border crossing.

A few more hours of driving and we were in Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia. As we arrived at 11pm, we had little idea of what a gem we’d stumbled upon, but the cheap lodging we found happened to be in a pre-WWII colonial house and for only marginally more, we traded our bed bug infested, mosquito bitten, non-air conditioned bungalow at Ko Phi Phi for a air conditioned, comfortable, clean room in Penang. The next day (well, today) we did a little walking tour and discovered that, true to its motto, Penang really does “Have it all.” In about six hours we’d seen the British built supreme court, town hall, and Fort Cornwallis (named for the British General of Revolutionary War fame), gone through a Chinese mansion and clan house (ORNATE), eaten naan and drank masala tea at a little hole-in-the-wall in Little India, and listened to the Islamic call to prayer while we wafted incense at one of the largest Buddhist temples (Kek Lok Si Temple).

Nathan, Meredith and I have all agreed that minute for minute, this is the best day we’ve had on our trip so far. Every meal has been a delight, the people have been friendly, and as we speak we’re canvassing bar options to feed my unfortunate Guinness addiction. Probably the best part of today has been: The Turtle Liberation Pond at Kek Lok Si Temple. Once you get past the odd name, you can only imagine how ironic it is. Picture a superheated pond about the size of a courtyard fountain. (Sarah, stop reading here). Then add about 300 turtles. Big, hefty turtles. The problem was there was only maybe a square meter of rock to dry off and get out of the water for these poor tired and hot turtles. The solution? If you were ever wondering how many turtles you could fit on a one square meter, three-four turtle high dog-pile, a careful look here could tell you. It was a frenzy (the first time I’ve ever used this word referring to turtles) of turtles as surprisingly beefy turtles kicked each other off in a mad struggle that seemed more like king of the hill than a relaxing jaunt on a rock. It was pure turtle madness and you couldn’t help but laugh your head off when a turtle-landslide caused by one unfortunate turtle swept all in its path into the water with several satisfying shell on shell thunks.

Anyway, we’re enjoying a nice break from the chaos of Bangkok and the sleazy backpackerness of Phi Phi, but it’s only a little break because it’s off to Medan, Indonesia on Wednesday! Malaysia, we’ll be back.

Thailand From the Window of a Bus

My adventures in Bangkok finally came to a close at the end of the second day and, instead of staying another sweaty night in a guesthouse, we decided to do the overnight bus to our next destination. "Twelve hours to Krabi and another one to Ko Phi Phi (in the south of Thailand" assured the suspiciously helpful travel agent woman. Without another option, we waited until 6pm and went to join the hordes of tattooed and dreadlocked backpackers waiting for the buses south. We got onto the bus, which proceeded to drive around the city for more than two hours and by the time we finally got on the road at half past 8, I was fast asleep.

I was jolted awake at 7am the next morning as the bus driver shouted for us to get off the bus as quickly as possible. "Grab your things and get off!! Go, go, go!!!" Fifteen disoriented and sleepy backpackers stumbled into the mud on the side of the road, our bags were thrown out and the bus sped away. Odd... We finally made our way to a gas station where we were to wait for our taxis to the next bus for the next stage of our journey. I was still slightly miffed at our rude awakening when the first girl realized she'd been robbed. 9,000 Baht (around $100) had been taken out of her bag while she slept. Another girl lost a camera and a third guy was missing money as well. A hurried check revealed that Nathan and I had all our valuables intact, but we were in the minority. The fast wake up and the quick getaway, it turns out, were just ways of ensuring that no one would realize what had happened until it was far to late to do anything. Disappointing...

Fully awake, I rather belatedly realized I wasn't where I was planning on going, or even close, really. However, the subsequent bus ride through some of the poorer parts of Thailand was really quite interesting. It was another opportunity to watch Thais in action, especially at school. We drove by school after school where uniformed children stood at stiff attention as the flag was raised and the song to the king was sung. Every town, no matter how tiny, poor and insignificant, had a well made and new looking school, although there was no AC and all the doors were wide open. I can't imagine trying to learn multiplication in such sweltering heat, but they were in there doing the best they could, I'm sure! Anyway, I made it to Ko Phi Phi at 4:30pm, a full 22.5 hours after we set out. Oh well, better late than never!

Last thought before I retire to my bed bug infested bungalow for the night: Thai roads are about 100x better than Russian roads. I find this surprising.

So, good night, I'll sleep tight, but the bed bugs will be having a feast tonight.

Next time I have internet: Ko Phi Phi!

Bananas and Buddhas

It's the end of my second (maybe third?) day in Thailand and it's been rather action packed... Since my post this morning, I've had, as the post title suggests, lots of bananas and other fruits (street vendors are the best) and I've seen literally hundreds of Buddhas. One of these Buddhas stands out from the rest because, despite the fact that he's laying on his side he rises a majestic 15 meters and extends another 46. That is a half football field of Buddha. Impressive...

That being said, we did have to fight the obligatory hordes of tourists (mainly Chinese and Spanish, which was odd) to see the really big sights. However, all you have to do is go through one obscure archway and you're free of the crowds, the noise, the jostling. I don't know why it is, but it is much easier to appreciate the beauty of a bejeweled spire when you're absolutely alone rather than getting literally mowed down by a particularly aggressive tour group (i.e. all of them).

One of the sights was the Thai royal palace (and I mean ROYAL- these people love their king. He is everywhere, pictures portraits, photos of him when he was a baby and little kid adorn the median of one of the main roads downtown. It's pretty impressive). Anyways, where there is a royal palace, there is bound to be royal guards. They mimic the British Palace guards at Westminster (or so I'm told) but I don't think anyone told the guards. One of them was standing erect, eyes straight and MP5 held rigidly. His buddy was resolutely cleaning dirt out of his fingernails while tourists snapped shots. Not very impressive. Anyway, I guess I notice these things...

Other than that, we walked another 8-10 miles, had more amazing food and just generally sweat all over the place. Tonight we're jumping on a bus to Krabi, Thailand to enjoy the beach. Later!

One Night in Bangkok

Well, I’m back! It’s been a year (well, almost two) and to be perfectly honest, it’s been a pretty uninteresting intervening time period. I had several pretty neat trips, to be fair, but I made the mistake of not writing my thoughts down at the time and now the minutia has been lost with the passing of time. But I shan’t make that mistake again. So here we are!

For those not intimately familiar with my plans for these next months sandwiched between the joy of graduation and the apprehension that marks the start of real life, I will fill you in now. I have been planning a trip ‘round the world with my friend from high school, Nathan for several years now, but reality and funding took its toll and we limited our plans to South East Asia. As of yesterday I had a flight to Bangkok and a flight out of Kuala Lampur, Malaysia and pretty much nothing else figured out. The plans are solidifying, but still very loose.

It’s day two of my journey now and I suppose I ought to capture some of my thoughts of Bangkok as I sit here in bed at 5am (jet lag…) and wonder why I decided to save 5 dollars and not opt for the air conditioned room. But that’s neither here nor there. I arrived Tuesday night at the airport and we stayed at a hotel only a few miles from there. We woke up on Wednesday morning and wandered outside for some breakfast and a first look at this new and fascinating country (Thailand for the geography challenged). It somewhat bizarrely fulfilled my expectations. There were tiny bridges over canals teeming with fish, colorful taxis doing their level best to run over their fares, and little motorbikes zipping everywhere, dodging scrawny chickens and scrawnier kids. We had a 40 cent breakfast of sticky rice topped with mystery meat from a toothless, grinning vendor with a Starbucks t-shirt draped rather ironically over his skinny frame.

Stomachs full, we headed out on our journey into Bangkok with only the loosest of destinations in mind. The way in involved the SkyTrain, a elevated monorail type thing. The station was only about a mile from the hotel, but it was almost surreal. The station looked like a giant metal Star Wars machine rising sinisterly over the roofs of the shacks that surrounded it. We took the escalator into the belly of the beast and were soon on our way to downtown.

We passed shantytowns, gated communities, abandoned train factories, and gleaming mega-malls. The skyscrapers started about 10km outside of town and simply grew in number and size as we continued in. Never in my life have I seen such a sprawling, massive city. We ditched the metro about halfway into the city (because it stopped…) and took the city bus the rest of the way, passing loads of kids in their Thai school uniforms, which, for the most part consisted of white shirts and blue pants for the guys and blue skirts for the gals. It looks pretty classy. We finally dropped our bags at a hostel in the backpacker’s ghetto of Banglamphu and headed out to explore.

Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a leisurely stroll to the hordes of rickshaw taxi drivers who cloud the area. “Sir, where you going?” he asks. “Well, we’re just walking, really.” “No, but where you going?” “umm… over there?” (pointing in a random direction). “No, no, no, sir, that’s closed! But I’ll take you to the standing Buddha for only 300 baht.” Walking away…

That being said, ‘over there’ wasn’t closed and we stumbled across Laho Prasa, a Sri Lankan style temple filled with Buddhas in all stages of laying, sitting, standing and walking. It was really a beautiful and peaceful place made all the more so by the fact that there was essentially no one there besides us and the monks. Perhaps everyone else believed the taxi drivers… The night finished with a torrential downpour and glass of pineapple juice, a fair way to end the day.

Ok, I promise I won’t have the time or inclination to go into such detail about the remainder of my 35 days, but suffice to say I’m having fun and if you’re ever in Bangkok, don’t listen to taxi drivers. Everyone else is really nice though.