My Adventures in Indonesia (1988)

Okay, it's now 2009 and I'm finally writing this down for all the world to see. Indonesia in 1988 was quite different as it was in 1955. But it is still the wondrous tropical motherland from where we originate.

A window of opportunity came and I snatched it up. With some careful planning, I began with teaching English in Tokyo for just under a year, went to Hong Kong and on to Jakarta and the adventure began. This was before computers and travel blogs and WiFi cafes. So the only information we had were our little guidebooks with some phrases and whatever information other travelers shared with us. One of my best friends (a seasoned traveler) met me in Jakarta and we proceeded onward. In a way it's kind of nice not to know a lot. That way it justifies our outrageous Western behavior to the natives. Like climbing over a chain link fence to catch our train at 4:30 in the morning. Not only that, but my friend was wearing a dress and the hem got caught on the top of the fence but the rest of her body was already on the ground so all the world got to see what was underneath the dress. We were laughing so hard of course. I'm sure the locals thought we were off our rocker (they get up early). Oh well.

Most people write about the temples, rice paddies, flora and fauna, etc. So I'll just zip ahead and write about our perspective as two single women traveling amongst a traditional society such as Indonesia. I'm pretty sure I confused everyone. If not that, then it was curiosity. I don't exactly look American but I wore American clothes and walked and talked the jive. On the other hand, I don't look completely Indonesian but clearly there's a hint of it particularly as my skin got darker and darker by the day. In the process of haggling or negotiating a price I definitely noticed I kind of had an "edge". Thanks to my genes. Okay, enough of that.

On to "Johnny"... This young Javanese guy became our shadow initially showing us the local sites and then continued following us even by train as we headed to Bandung. He showed up a couple days later and popped up out of nowhere. We learned quickly if you showed any hint of interest, they're on you like flies. On to Bali, Lovina Beach... what a riot ! The guidebooks never warned us that there would be Balinese gigolos pumping iron on the beach scoping out the western chicks. We were whisked away to a makeshift "nightclub" which had a rotating disco mirror light ball and blasting music. We danced all night stumbling back to our little losmen and plopped down in our beds as the sound of ocean waves lulled us to sleep.

What I loved about traveling this way is the unpredictability of everything. I ended up traveling up to Sumatra with my new "friend-Francois-from-France". He was great, more like a brother than anything. It was completely different traveling with a male. I did not feel as much on edge and there was an instant sense of order and protection. He became like a brother to me and we had a great time exploring Lake Toba territory, home of the Batak people. He accused me of brushing my teeth too much. It was time to part.

This was all back when I had good feet, a backpack and little sense. It was a turning point and my orientation started to point more towards my heritage and where it all began - this wondrous rich island nation.

Honoring the Women (Part II)

As I look through the old photos of my family, I started to notice a certain trend.  I don't know if it's just my own family (mother's side) or if it was part of the culture of their day, but I saw more photos of women together than couples.  For instance this photo, it is my mother at around age 19 with her mother.  There were other siblings and I believe her father had passed away around that time.  It looks like a formal portrait.  Isn't it kind of interesting ?   Can you imagine nowadays going to a portrait studio only with your mother and posing for a picture together ?  I saw other photos of two sisters or a two female cousins.  Now that I think of it, the females in my family are all strong.  My eldest tante (aunt) is 97 years old.  A year ago, she still flew to the USA for her annual visit from The Netherlands.  On her return to Schiphol airport in Amsterdam her pickup party was not there due to some miscommunication.  So here is this elderly lady stranded after an 11-hour international flight.  After waiting a while she hailed a cab and ended up using all the birthday money she got at her party in the USA.  We all admire her.   After my mother died (her younger sister) with a forlorn look on her face, she said there was no one left from her youth.  

Mom had another sister who was the eldest.  I think their age difference was almost 12 years, so she was kind of like a second mom to her.  Her name was Tante Ellie.  Apparently when Mom was about 15 years old, an Arab sheik spotted her at the local pasar (market).  Later, when they returned home someone knocked on the door.  Tante Ellie answered the door and a man representing this sheik said my mom was chosen to be his master's next wife and asked for her hand in marriage.  Tante Ellie was shocked !   Immediately she wanted to shield and protect her little sister.  She told the guy to wait on the veranda.  She went out through the back, ran to the pasar to buy a cheap ring, came back, put the ring on my mom's finger, went through the front door to the veranda dragging my mom behind her, pulled out my mom's hand clearly showing the ring and said she was already spoken for.   The sheik's rep honored this, bowed and left.  I love this story !