Smiles + Durian = Sickness!

While leaving Padang, I got my first experience with the famed sense of Indonesian direction and time.  As I left the hotel, I asked the front desk which direction to the bus station.  The confidently pointed the opposite direction of what I expected, and when I acted surprised, they confirmed that indeed I did have to walk back towards town.  With no street signs and no map, I really had no choice but to take their advice.  I walked for about 15 minutes before stopping to use an ATM and ask the nearby security guard (my first full conversation in Indonesian!).  Of course, he pointed back the direction I had come and said I could walk there in 15 minutes.  I knew it had to be a bit farther than that, but walked on anyway.  90 minutes later, dripping sweat from the midday heat, I arrived at Minang station and hopped a van to Bukittinggi.

The driver immediately took off going way too fast for the crowded streets.  I've been in my fair share of seemingly dangerous transportation...Indian rickshaws, Philippine fishing boats, Thai tuk-tuks, West African bush taxis...but this was the first time I was actually convinced I might not make it out alive.  Catastrophic vehicle accidents are somewhat commonplace here.  Somehow, we made it without too much trouble.  We were only in two accidents (we were hit twice), which were handled quickly and surprisingly civilly.  As was standard in Indonesia, I was dropped off at a random intersection with no street signs, no map, and no one who could direct me.  I finally broke down and opened up my computer/GPS to figure out what I was doing.  I turned out to be about two miles away from the center of town, and again, walked it in the heat.  When I finally got my bearings and found a hotel, I took a cool shower and headed out on the town.

Taufik, Me, Haswin, Suyarif, and Adjiz.  I only look autistic.

In my first two hours of walking, I met Taufik and Suyarif.  They were English students in the local university and wanted to practice their English with a native speaker.  Ok.  Sure.  Let's go have some dinner.   Friends Adjiz and Haswin joined us, and the total bill for dinner and fruit juice came to a whopping $3.34.  My treat.  After that, Taufik suggested that I come visit their English class tomorrow.  Hmmm...well that doesn't really sound like something that I'd do.  What's that?  You have a beautiful English teacher?  I guess I could stop by.  And then we can take a tour around the town and we can show you all the sights?  I kind of had plans, but I guess I could use some help trying new foods and such.  And then you can stay at our boarding house tonight?  Ohhh...totally not on my agenda, but probably a good thing to do, right?  And then this weekend we can go visit my family in their village?  Way out of my plans, but an opportunity I shouldn't pass up I guess.  

Visit to the local river where we let fish nibble our feet.

And that was that.  The next 4 days were a whirlwind of activities with Taufik and Suyarif hanging on my every word.  Every bite of food I tried, they asked "Do you love it!?"  It was exhausting being the center of attention for days at a time, and when the weekend rolled around, I was kind of dreading spending two days with his family.  Unfortunately, I felt that I owed it to these guys to go visit the family, and I got the impression that Taufik didn't have a chance to go home too often (the bus fare is $2.75 each way).  Without getting into too much detail, I visited the farm, saw what life was like in a local village, and ate way too much food.  I even got an offer to marry his younger sister.  It was explained to me that she's only 12 now, but in six years, I'll be 34 and she will be 18.  Perfect!  The family approves!

Grandma and grandpa.  Very nice people.

Two days of sitting and smiling while the entire extended family chattered on in Indonesian was a little too much for me, and on the afternoon we were to leave, I finally came down with a bit of a cold/headache/dizziness.  I blame it on smiling too much.  Nonetheless, it was a good excuse to get out of there and also to have a hotel room to myself in Bukittinggi.  The thought of spending a night without sharing a bed with one or two other people hadn't even crossed these guys' minds, so I was glad for the excuse to get a room to myself for a few hours.  In the end, I learned a lot about Indonesian/Muslim culture, and hopefully made some lifelong friends.

This poor girl doesn't know what she's in for!

Durian.  King of fruits!

Indonesia and crossing the equator for the first time!

Boy am I far behind on this thing.  Here we go.

On November 4th, I left Penang on a short hop flight down to Medan on the island of Sumatra in Indonesia.  As always, I didn't do a ton of research, and didn't really know what to expect.  Turns out that Sumatra, despite its proximity to very touristed mainland Malaysia and southern Thailand, doesn't see many tourists at all.  I kind of got that same rockstar feeling that I had when I visited the Philippines for the first time.  Hardly anyone spoke English, but I got a lot of huge smiles and very friendly people shouting "hello mister!".  A few people knew a couple other phrases, such as "where are you from?", "where are you going", and "what is your name?".  At first I made the effort to answer their questions, but it quickly became clear that they didn't know the meaning of what they were asking or understand my answers.  Eventually I just smiled and said hello as kids rode past in the beds of trucks screaming "where are you frommmmmmm?" as they sped by.

My fancy hotel in Medan

I'm a little embarassed to admit that I pulled a HUGE white guy move in Medan.  I had a real early flight the next morning, and planned to sleep in the airport instead of checking into a hotel for only 8 hours, and then leaving at 3:00am in a city I was unfamiliar with.  This left me with the dilemma of what to do with my big backpack for the 6 hours or so that I would be spending walking around town.  The airport didn't offer left luggage, so I decided to pull the race card.  I walked from the train station to the tallest, fanciest looking hotel I could find and asked the concierge if I could leave my luggage with them.  Since they don't see a lot of white visitors, they were excited enough to have me that they didn't even question it.  I made it clear that I wasn't staying, but they said no problem.  We even have a spa upstairs where you can go for a sauna, swim, or shower if you want.  Somehow I'm guessing that the average guy off the street doesn't get offered that.

Of course, I didn't get great sleep in the airport, but at least I had a quiet place to relax for a few hours.  The flight to Padang was easy, and it marked my first crossing of the equator.  I had it in my head that I'd done it a few years ago on a trip to Ghana, but a quick look at the map shows I wasn't even close.  Padang is significantly smaller than Medan, and is famous for its spicy food.  Jackpot!  I fumbled my way through a restaurant interaction with probably unintelligible Bhasa Indonesia and frantic hand waving.  First real night in Indonesia done!

Gaining weight in Penang

Before leaving Tanah Rata, I took one last jungle waterfall hike which ended in me finding a large, red, egg-sized beetle plodding it's way across the trail.  I got closer to take a look, and it immediately popped out wings and flew right up into my face with a terrifying buzzing sound.  Pretty much the end of my walk.  I didn't scream, despite what the two girls a short way down the trail might tell you.

EE Beng

I got kind of a late start, and ended up taking a bus to Penang instead of hitching like I'd originally planned.  It was definitely a change from quiet little Tanah Rata, but I couldn't wait to eat my way through what might outdo Singapore as the food capital of the world.  Maybe Mexico City has to be in the running too...  Found a decent hotel, and started wandering the streets.  I'd planned to save it for later, but accidentally found my way to EE Beng Vegetarian Restaurant, which was recommended to me.  I stepped inside, filled up my plate from the trays of random, unlabled food, and took it over to an old woman who started mumbling to herself and turning my plate around and around.  She finally spit out 6 ringgit, which is a little under $2 for a heaping plate.  I was starving when I got there, so that might have something to do with it, but that could have been the best plate of food I ever had.  No clue what I ate, except that it wasn't meat.  Well done EE Beng!

Thanks Penang.  I'll be working this food off for a while.

I measured my time in Penang in terms of meals, not days.  I stayed for 12 meals, and tried as many restaurants and street stalls around the city as I could.  I had roti and sambal (the most perfectly cooked indian flatbread), grilled chicken with peanut sauce, classic Assam Laksa (a noodley soupy dish), chicken rice, fried noodles, fried rice, fruit juices of all kinds, a coconut milkshake, and a wide assortment of unknowns from the nasi kandar restaurants.  It was a bit difficult not speaking the language, and I think I got hustled at Line Clear nasi kandar restaurant.  You get a plate of rice, and then a nice indian man just starts heaping sauces, gravys, meats, and maybe a few vegetables on top.  He started out pointing to each item asking if I wanted it, and then just started giggling to himself and pouring everything on.  In the end, I brought the plate to a stern looking guy who eyeballed it for a minute, and finally said 15 ringgit.  It was still under $5, but probably twice what I should have paid.  Started to argue with him, but didn't really have much of a leg to stand on.  What's an extra $2!?

Line Clear restaurant.  Note the HUGE pots of curry.

I did my best to only eat one meal each day at EE Beng, and skipped the indian restaurant with the LED readerboard that said, "Please come in.  We try our best!"  I almost gave them the sympathy vote, but there were just too many other places to try.  To work some of the food off, I rented a bike and rode out to the nearby Kek Lok Si temple. My bike was comically undersized, the brakes were questionable, and I got a lot of locals pointing and laughing at me once I got out of the city.  Totally worth it, though.  As I pulled back into my hotel, a large group of Chinese bikers zipped past me.  They're all decked out in their spandex gear, and fancy helmets, and look totally out of place.  In the silence that followed this large group, an ancient Indian guy slowly rode past on a wobbly bike that squeaked loudly with every turn of the wheel.  It looked like he might fall asleep at any moment.  Typical SE Asian contrast.  I should have completed the moment by riding away on my tiny clown bike.

I found this store funny.  It's not clear what the heck they're selling, but somehow important that they are twin brothers.  Penang, and Malaysia in general, was littered with stores like this that I couldn't figure out what they sold.  Everything inside would be a greasy, oily black color.  The walls would be stacked with what looked like car parts, old typewriters, random electronic junk, and large jugs of some mystery liquid.  Invariably, there would be a woman sitting at a desk with 3 foot high stack of paper scribbling furiously.  This might explain why many people would just reply "oh...I am in business" when asked what their job was.

Well...so much for that plan!

Damnnnnn

Kek Lok Si temple