Nasi Goreng, Nasty Illnesses
Saumlaki looked like a nice well spread out city from our anchor spot offshore and we were glad to arrive. We were preparing our special arrival breakfast when we were interrupted by the arrival of the ‘health inspector’ Isak and his translator Mathias. Eggs were put on hold as we completed paperwork and were scolded for not putting up the yellow quarantine flag on entry (our mistake). Isak then proceeded to do a very thorough inspection of the boat pulling open drawers and having a good peek before asking for an ‘administration fee.’ 1 t-shirt, 1 bottle of whisky and $30USD later and the giggly inspector was back off to shore – a hard days work well compensated. Might I add Saumlaki is not even an official port of entry into Indonesia! Our first encounter with Indonesian corruption and I sense not our last.
One good thing about the health inspector’s untimely arrival was our introduction to Mathias. Mathias was a young Indonesian who had studied English for 6 years in Jayapura and was very helpful. That afternoon I went ashore with Alfred and Kilian to meet Mathias for a quick wander around town and to change some money at the local bank. This was our first real taste of an Asian city. Saumlaki is small with a population of only 15,000 people but was still typically dirty and crowded. Saumlaki has no tourism and warrants only one sentence in the 900 page Indonesia Lonely Planet Guide but this meant that as white people we were such a rare commodity that people wanted to take photos of us rather than the other way around! We wandered around the incredibly well stocked market where every type of fresh fruit, vegetable and fish was on display before stopping at a Warung (street stall) for our first taste of Nasi Goreng – the Indonesian national dish of fried rice. Fresh, tasty and wonderfully prepared in front of our very eyes I have the feeling I am going to be dining out on Nasi Goreng for the next two months.
The next day we hired a Bemo (local mini buses always extensively decorated with soft fluffy dice/toys and windscreen stickers with Macho drivers) and Mathias as a guide and headed out on an exploration of the island. Our first stop was at a coconut palm distillery village where 90% of the villagers have backyard distilleries. The wine is drained from the coconut flower and then distilled over a flame and run through pipes until it emerges as a 90% proof clear alcohol. We tried a small amount and apart from a flaming oesophagus it tasted ok and we ended up buying a bottle for $2. We figured it is always a back up fuel for the kerosene lamp.
The houses in the villages were of good quality and the villages themselves were much cleaner than the city with well signposted streets. We then headed to a woodcarving village via a stop at a beachside café for some chicken patties with rice and a Bintang (local Indonesian beer) for lunch. It hasn’t taken long to realise that Indonesian’s treat chilli like the Italians treat salt and put it in EVERYTHING. Hence the need for rice, rice and more rice just to put out the flames which erupt in the back of your throat with every mouthful. At the carving village we were seated at the front of the chief’s house and a wonderful array of carvings were placed in front of us. If I could bring a container home with me at Christmas I would fill it with the beautiful souvenirs I have encountered thus far but as it is I only have my backpack and so I am restricted with space. So I purchased 2 ebony figurines and a wooden ship which takes 3 days to carve and is intricately beautiful. This village was also the scene of my first proposal where an older man called Adias stated that I was ‘very good and welcome to stay with him – I have four rooms!’ Very very sweet!
Our trip ended with a final wander around town, stocking up with fruit and vegetables at the market and dinner at a café. In the market I was able to put the little Bahasa Indonesian I have learnt into good use. The people were so overwhelmingly friendly and love to just touch you and smile. The next morning we left Saumlaki with a fabulous impression and a warm fuzzy feeling from the genuine welcoming people.
Our next destination was Flores which was 600nm away or about a four night passage. Indonesian waters are calm as there is little wind so we made slow but steady progress. On the fifth day we realised we were unlikely to make our intended anchorage by nightfall so we headed towards shore to attempt to anchor. I say attempt because after two attempts we decided to hove to and sit out at sea as it was easier than finding a suitable anchorage. Indonesia lies directly in the Pacific rim of fire and as such is very volcanic. Huge mountainous islands rise directly from the sea and disappear straight down as soon as they hit the water. Hence 50m off the beach it is 50m deep (far too deep to anchor) and within 1km off the shore it can be 3000m deep.
Sill hoving to was relatively peaceful and we arrived at Maumere on Flores early the next morning. We anchored 13km out of town off a dive resort called Seworld which was owned by a German missionary Father Heindrichs. We explored ashore that afternoon and were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of the resort and the excellent location of the beachside restaurant and bar. We stayed here for lunch (Grilled Snapper Fish and a Bintang) gazing out at the boat anchored off the beach and then we retired back to the boat happy, full and ready for an afternoon nap! The next morning I hired a surfski ashore while the kids did school and paddled over to the nearby fishing village. I did a lap around some of the traditional boats and the locals crowded to the side for the spectacle ‘Hello Missus, How are you Missus’ was being cried from the deck. I had to laugh and wave as I headed back to Verena.
I took the kids for a ride on the surfski and then Alfred, Bella and I went ashore as Steffie had a lay down as she felt a bit sick. After lunch ashore we came back to the boat where Steffie was being violently ill. She deteriorated rapidly and was becoming disoriented so Alfred took her ashore. A few hours later a young guy came out in his canoe to tell me ‘Missus sick – gone to hospital.’ Unfortunately he did not speak much English and even with exaggerated hand movements I could not convey to him that I needed him to pull the dinghy further up the beach as the tide was coming in. So I wrote him a note and asked him to take it to the hotel but it appeared they had a different idea and half an hour later he came back out to tell me ‘You missus, must take you to beach.’ Sooooooo I hopped into the canoe and spent the next five minutes praying that this incredibly unstable vessel would not flip and sink as Jimmy got into a routine of paddle, paddle, BAIL, paddle, paddle, BAIL. Fortunately we got to shore and I took the dinghy back out to the boat so we had transport again.
Alfred came back about 7 with the news that Steffie was not much better so I took the kids ashore and we went to visit Steffie in the hospital hitching rides on the back of two motorbikes. Steffie was still vomiting and needed to stay in the hospital the night and Alfred stayed with her. I took the kids back to the boat hitching a ride this time with the ambulance.
Steffie ended up staying in the hospital for three nights but thankfully it was Catholic run and very very clean. Fortunately she did not have malaria and it seems it was just a case of serious heatstroke. The weather is incredibly hot here with between 35 and 40 degrees every day.
The three days followed much the same pattern. Alfred visited Steffie at least twice a day and the kids once . Mid-morning we headed into the restaurant to sit in the shade and do English school with a cool drink. Afterwards we dined on great Indonesian food and the kids played in the afternoon on the beach. On the Sunday the Father invited us to the church as every week he runs a special children’s mass. We were the guests of honour among 400 other Indonesian children. Catholicism is very strong on Flores unlike the rest of Indonesia which is majority Muslim. In the afternoon we decided to head into town to visit a CyberCafe and hired the resort car to drop us in. We arrived in the middle of Maumere down a dirty side street outside a boarded up shed.
‘Internet closed, sorry mister’ said the driver
‘Ahhhh – when does it open’
‘Mebbe 3oclock – you should wait here’
‘But it’s 3:30 already and it looks very shut’
‘Yes, open 3oclock mister – wait here’
‘It doesn’t look open, can you take us to the hospital instead’
‘No hospital, must go to airport, have guests, wait here I come back…’
‘Okkkk and when might that be? Cant you just drop us at the hospital on the way???’ Said pleadingly as we gazed out at the filthy deserted street while a pig peed on the car’s tyre.
‘no no – you must get out, five oclock mister I come back’
‘Umm I don’t think we can spend that long here – we’ll find another way home'
‘Ok mister, you out now’
So we wandered the streets of Maumere on a deserted Sunday afternoon with only flying garbage and a few urinating pigs to keep us company until we emerged out into some sort of a main street where we managed to hire a Bemo to take us back to the resort (although we arrived back without eardrums as Indonesian rap music blasted from the newly installed subwoofers.) We decided that the 200,000 rupees spent on hiring a car to take us in to Maumere and a Bemo to take us straight back half an hour later was well spent as we now knew not to bother going in again!
On the third morning Alfred went to pick up Steffie at around 8. At around 9:30 the anchor alarm started going off. It was the first time we had an offshore breeze and it appeared we were dragging albeit slowly. Thankfully we were dragging away from the beach so I decided that as long as I kept an eye on the situation it could wait until Alfred returned with Steffie. 10am passed, 10:30 passed, 11:00 passed and I was starting to get worried. How much longer could it take!! At 11:30 I started to worry and called the hotel reception who volunteered to call the hospital to pass on the message to Alfred that the boat was moving. Within 10 minutes Alfred was waving frantically on the beach and we upanchored and reset our position straight away.
Soon after Steffie arrived with two nuns in tow. Bearing two cartons of fresh mangoes, bananas and pawpaws as gifts they wanted to have a look at the boat. Nuns on board was another first… only in Indonesia!! It was great to have Steffie back and we relaxed for a few days eating lunch and dinner ashore and doing school in the restaurant as usual. They were thankful for my help with the kids over the crisis so they encouraged me to have a day off and I managed to scam a lift with a German couple Andrea and Michael who were doing an excursion up the volcano the next day.
The next morning I was on the beach at 4:45 ready to go and discovered that Michael was sick with a combination of bad sunburn and a bad coconut so it was to be a girls trip up the volcano. We piled into the car with August our driver and set off into the cool predawn darkness. Kelimutu is the main sight on Flores, at 1600m high the volcano is no longer active but has three huge crater lakes which change colour every twenty years or so with no prewarning or explanation.
The road was sealed but treacherously curvy as we wound up and up and up and then down and down and down. We popped out on the other side of the island at picturesque Pago beach where we stopped for a walk to see to some blue stone a short way along the beach. The sun had since risen and the temperatures were climbing as we made our way up into the highlands. We stopped at a small village to use the longdrop loo (a flexibility challenging experience) and I wandered into a small shop to buy some Roti (sweet bread) and biscuits for breakfast. I also purchased some local cashew nuts and was excitedly greeted by a local who spirited me out the back of the shop to see the factory. Apparently the Indian importer who visits only once a year happened to be there and would be very pleased to meet me! Andea and August where nowhere to be seen so I was invited to sip tea with Umetante whereupon we chatted about nuts… He was very proud to show me his biggest nuts and advised that they produced 200kg a day from 150 workers with an intensive manual process. He imports 1000 tonnes of these to India where he also grows cashews and he assured me that his factory in India had 350 workers and produced 5 times as many nuts. Andrea had since returned from the toilet and upon witnessing Umetante bestow upon me all his numbers in India and all the numbers of his niece in Cyprus if I were ever to visit either country she decided a marriage proposal was next. He was a lovely man however we escaped into the sunlight eager to continue our trip up to the crater lakes before the clouds descended.
The interior of Flores continued to be spectacular with high mountains covered in jungle and the odd green rice paddy. A variety of animals including goats, ponies and cows were tethered at the side of the road as the altitude increased. We arrived at Kelimutu a little before ten and began the short walk up to the lakes. The mist and clouds gave Kelimutu an ethereal quality and a blessed coolness. The clouds parted as we reached the summit fifteen minutes later and we could easily see the first of the deep black crater lakes. As we continued the second stunning Aqua green lake appeared and then lastly the third smallest forest green lake. It was a stunning sight and well worth the 4 hour journey.
In the carpark three old ladies had Ikats on display, the traditional Flores textile. I purchased some of these hand woven treasures to take up more space in my backpack at Christmas and we began our journey home. We stopped for lunch at Pago Beach (Nasi Goreng of course!) where we met another young couple who were staying at Seworld – Adrian and Joey.
We arrived back at the hotel at about 4pm in the afternoon. It was a great excursion and Andrea and I had fun getting to know each other and spent most of the way home giggling about the Indian’s nuts. That night we dined out in the restaurant again where Kilian put on a magic show for the guests. After dinner I stayed for a few drinks with Adrian and Joey. Joey lives in Singapore and has volunteered to take me out for a night when we arrive although I have been prewarned about the A$12 beers!!
We left Seworld after 7 days and an interesting stay. Some of the highlights were the people we met. One such person was Danny who was a traditional fisherman descended from the original sea gypsies of Sulawesi. Danny showed us how to fish, how to tell the depth by listening through a wooden canoe paddle and explained how he slept in the canoe often at night. He was so knowledgeable and was a local chemistry teacher who was eager just to chat to improve his English. Still the bad memories of the hospital here made us eager to leave and we sailed for Rinca early in the morning to see another unique creature – the Komodo dragon.
