First time visiting Singapre in 2001 I liked it. Being back here again in 2010 I loved it. There is such a good feeling being here - great infrasrcuture, amazing architecutre, smart modernism, excellent public transport, peaceful parks, great and affordable international food, and the city never sleeps! You could easily walk around the city at 4 a.m. and not think twice about it. Singapore at night is probably the most impressive and romantic, various colour lights elluminating bridges, canals, buildings, statues, ahhhh.... This is a kind of place to fall in love in, or just have another honeymoon.... Sure, it is not the "real" Asia we grew accustomed to for the numerous months on the road, but I love it. And, quite franky, it is nice to have a break from a real Asia sometimes - not facing corruption, being able to rely on public transport, not to feel over-charged, or being afraid to cross the street and not being hit by a car... We needed that break. My very dear friend Jessica and her mom (who live in Indonesia) offered us a very kind gesture to stay in their apartment, right in the center of the city. Both Rob and I finally got that rest and peace we needed after three months of rustic travels - such a simple thing as a running (hot!) water and flushable toilet doesn't sound like much, but it was a pampering after all these cold bucket showers and squat toilets. I am sure we'll start missing them soon, but for now, it is good to be back in civilization!
We walk a lot around here - so many parks, boulevards, eateries, walkways, canals! There is always something going on. And food?! On the first night of arrival, I got a FREE pizza - yes, no scams! Thursday is a lady night special, no questions asked. Well, sure, the restaurant hopes you could order other things, but if you are OK just with a pizza, no prob! Yes, it is civilized here, smart businesses, etc. Singapore, in my opinion, is an example of the positive totalitarism that went right - no corruption, and smart governemnt decision effectively put into practise. I hear sometimes Westerners bitch of Singapore being way too strcit as a ciountry - like big fines on spitting on the pavement or not stopping on the red light, or smoking in public - well, my friends, that's just fine with me. After life in the developing (and some developed) countries, it is a pleasure to experience a high standard. If people can not behave as civilized citizens, maybe they'll understand the language of fines.
On another topic... Rob and I attended a big Indian festival called Thaipusam (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thaipusam). I probably should mention that Singapore's ethnically diverse culture is represented by numerous nationalities, but the three major ethnic groups are Indians, Chinese, and Malay. Anyway, the Thaipusam festival went on for several days, unfortunately were were unable to stay for all the festivities (we are heading out for the Philippines very soon), but what we saw and experienced is very memorable. It is a festival of "spiritual cleansing" via body piercing and self-inflicted pain performed largely by men occasionally by women. It is a festival not for light-hearted - by the end of of the festival some devotees drop on the ground exhausted, dehydrated, with bleeding backs, shoulders, faces - their cheeks and tongues pierced by a long needle for several days (meaning no food, almost no water, and silence for several days), backs pierced by hooks attached to the chains and carrying heavy loads and performing trans-dance, etc. All, self inflicted, and highly respected by friends and family members. I think the main purpose of this festival is repenting the sins by a participant for the sake of their families; it is also a sacrifice for fulfilling some wish, such as the healthy recovery of a loved one, or gaining spiritual cleansing. Anyway, it was disturbing and fascinating at the same time. And, as always a warm Indian hospitality - we attended a free Thali lunch (on banana leave) intended mostly for the pilgrims and their families (we were the only Westerners as it happens often). Even though we were the spectators, we were very welcomed, and were constantly offered more food, the servers kept returning back to us with the seconds, thirds, desserts etc, and making sure we really had enough. The entire lunch was arranged in groups sitting on the floor and eating with their hands. We didn't mind at all, but one of the servers tracked down a couple of spoons for us to make sure were were comfortable - see why we love Indian hospitality so much? Eventually, we made our effort for an exit, but hosts caught up with us insisting we would take some extra dessert in a cup with us, so we did. On the way out, we continued seeing more groups of pilgrims on their last stage of the sacrifice, their families welcoming them back, trying to assist with pulling the hooks out of the bleeding backs, and removing piercing needles from their swollen tongues and cheeks. We respectfully were standing by, but eventually had to make our way out. We would be leaving that night for the Philippines...
I must have picked up some nasty bug (I suspect it could have been around Bromo where I drank a questionable water served at one of the eateries).Normally, it takes a couple of days and my stomach clears off without any medication, but this time it was different.Five days after raging intestine, frequest runs to the toilet day and night, lack of appetite, being exhausted, I finally accepted that medication is a must.After some medical research and self-diagnose (Indonesian lab work is not to be trusted), it looked like I needed antibiotics to get whatever-was-in-my-system out.Rob went to various pharmacies in Bandung, and picked up the recommended antibiotics.Luckily, the medicine in Indonesia is cheap, and I felt a lot better within 24 hours.I still had to stay on a weekly medication course, but at least I could "hold in" the food in my stomach for more than 1 hour.And, it was great to be able to eat again!
As you probably could see in our blog, food has become one of the enjoyments in our long-term travel.Though, I must admit in some places we just eat not to be hungry, so I wouldn't really call it a culinary delight.Give me Indian food any time, but as far as intestines or other innerds delicasies go, I just have to pass.Anyway, we eventually made it to Jakarta - took a picturesque train ride from Bandung, and settled in a very basic and inexpensive hotel right in the center of Jakarta - thought it is hard to lable what exactly the center of Jakarta is...Did not like Jakarta.Part of town we were staying in had way too many obnoxious travellers (nothing like Khaosan Road in Bangkok, but still similar mentality).The city did not have a genuine hospitality we so much grew accustomed to in Kalimantan or Sulawesi (or even in Surabaya, Java).The traffic was congested, road rules and traffic signs were frequently ignored.Sidewalks were barricaded by junk.However, the public bus option to the airport was great.And, the Nationl Museum was an excellent value - decent exhibits with less than 10 cents entry fee (and no special tier prcing for foreigners which is refreshing).Food scene was OK.Jakarta was a practical last stop on Java for us, so it fulfilled it's purpose.
INDONESIA JOURNEY CONCLUSION:
It has been two months traveling in Indonesia. Indonesian Borneo and Sulawesi are the friendliest places we have ever been.We were absolutely overwhelmed with a genuine hospitality and welcome.The marine life we were able to experience is one of the most exotic interactions we will remember - snorkeling with giant sea turtles and manta rays, unexpected encounters with shy reef sharks, holding in palms of our hands newly born baby sea turtles, snorkeling with millions of harmless jelly fishes.It required work and patience to get to such places, but rewards were definitely worth it.Jaw dropping rituals and breathtaking views of Toraja, how could we forget them?
What would we like to see different about Indonesia - please, please, please be kinder to the nature, no more dynamite or cyanide fishing, no more plastic bags in the ocean, less commercial fishing, more preserving. Less motorbikes, scooters, and smoking please. No more caged exotic animals for home or foreign entertainment. No more transportation cartel reap-offs. And, more education please to the disadvantaged ones.
We made a special point to pass through Solo to visit one wonderful girl and her mom, who I haven't seen since Seattle. Jessica graduated from the college I worked for, we kept in touch by email for years, and finally it was an opportunity for us to meet up in person again in her home country. Rob and I were treated to a most incredible hospitality, and got completely spoilt with attention and cordial attitude. We felt like a part of the family from the moment we stepped in their home. Jessica's mom, Ine, is not only the sweetest person, but also a very thoughtful and successful business entrepreneur, who went through a lot in her life, and who knows a true value of family and life. Their family witnessed violent rebels of 1990's in Indonesia, and it was fascinating to listen about those historical events.
We spent many hours talking and recollecting,laughing and contemplating, sharing our travel experiences and asking numerous questions about the Indonesian culture and life in general.We were taken to various culinary establishments (it was a real treat to experience genuine Javanese food at high-end restaurants as opposed to our usual modest dining at a street stall/hawker), were looked after, and most importantly we felt accepted and welcomed as a part of the family.It was very sad for us to leave Solo.Jessica and Ine saw us off, and stayed with us until the last minute of the train departure.Our visit to their home will forever stay in our best memories about the journey through Indonesia.
This entry should bear the title "Stunning views with stinging reap-offs".
After Borneo and Sulawesi, where sincere hospitality and welcome seem the norm, Bromo was a shock.Right away, reaching Bromo gave us a bitter experience.After arriving by a public bus to a town of Probolingo, we found a local van that goes up to the volcano Bromo village once there is a full load of passengers.No problem, we can wait.Since we had a couple of hours of wait time, we decided to try hitching - several trucks and vans stopped, but they did not go all the distance.No problem.Eventually, one of the vans passing by stopped, and reassured us they DO go all the way to the Bromo village, we do NOT need to change any buses, and they DO charge us only the negotiated and confirmed rate.OK...It started good, then half way up the mountains the van stopped and told us they won't go further unless we pay quadrupled price.If we don't pay the new price, a cartel of motorcycles (pulling next to our van) will take us the rest of the way.No way, we told them.We expected them to honor their commitment, or they won't be paid.They tried to come up with stupid excuses like "they don't have enough passengers, or they don't usually go there, or they needed more money for fuel", or whatever they could come up with.The scenario reminded me too much of Viet Nam, and began pushing my nerves.I gave them a last chance in a polite manner to honor the commitment, and after it failed, I exploded on them.I told them that we've traveled way too long in SE Asia to be taken for fools, we have been around for way too long to be taken advantage of, the fact we do not speak Bahasa Indonesia doesn't make us stupid; I also told them that we are NOT leaving the van until they either take us to the final destination or all the way back to Probolingo, they will NOT be paid a penny unless they take us all the way to Bromo, and I may have used a couple of not-so-lady-like terms to communicate my frustration.Eventually, after a big row, my point got across, and the dishonest van driver and conductor realized we were way too stubborn for their scam.The van driver started an engine, and all of a sudden about 20 meters driving around the corner, they had enough passengers waiting, and yes - the passengers were going exactly the same route we were.Eventually, we made it to our final destination at an original price.But we felt bitter after leaving the van.Dishonesty was obviously the norm of life around Bromo - way too many foreign tourists to pass, who allow to be taken advantage of, which spoil it for the rest of us.
The tourist trap continued in the volcano village.Everyone approaching us wanted to sell something - their photo, tours, transport, etc.Hotels were over-priced and run by arrogant owners and indifferent staff, cliff top restaurants'prices were inflated.The only decent local we met was an owner of a homestay, who offered us a place to stay at a very reasonable rate and who treated us in a hospitable manner we have grown accustomed to.He also introduced us to a local Muslim run eatery with acceptable local food and cheap prices.So, that worked out OK.
As far as the volcano goes.Yes, it' pretty - you could reach the volcano top by foot by sunrise, and there is a steaming crater you could see right in front of you if you walk along the crater lip - prepare for a lot of sulfur exhaust, and there are several unmarked trails around other volcanoes and valleys.The scenery is beautiful, the local attitude is not...
Anna's entry: I could write here about mountains and hills, or hot springs and cheap (2USD/hour) massages, or maybe extensive food scene, or tourists and beggars. But, I am not going to. Yes, all of these things exist here, but there is something else that has been preoccupying me for a while, and I feel this would be a good time to vent. Indonesians are very friendly and helpful, it is probably the friendliest country we've been to. But, how much I would wish that they would take some of their friendliness away from people, and share it with animals and the rapidly disappearing habitat... Oh how much we have observed, while traveling in South and South East Asia, disappearing rain forests, bombed reefs, and exploited animas.... As a matter of fact, today I had a very sad experience at a local market - numerous cages full of captured exotic birds, tropical fish, snakes, corals, and young (newly born) monkeys in small cages - of course, their mothers had to be killed (shot) to take away the baby monkeys for sale... It is so sad..... India has chained up elephants, exploited for entertainment - touching pilgrims on the heads with the trunk for "good luck". Malaysia and Thailand have chained up monkeys as "pets". Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam have barely any forests left, and I don't even want to tell you what happened to animals... And, my native Russia - killing and exporting bear gall bladders for traditional Chinese "medicine"... The other day, heard on the BBC radio about an enormous amount of ivory (elephant tusks) seized by the customs, that adds up to 2000 murdered elephants. The ivory was to be delivered to China for the purpose of making luxury chopsticks, executive stamps, and mobile cases... Is there any hope for humanity? I think not.
I have intentionally decided not to post any photos on this entry...
We have returned to Makassar after our snorkeling adventure down South, in Bira and Pantai Timur. We settled in the same hotel and same room, with AC and TV (a real treat after the rustic stay) for 10USD , and we headed back for the famous Makassar treat - Es Teller Yess Makassar - for around .70 cents. It is a sweet dish made with ice, coconut, papaya, tapioca, sweet milk, roasted sweet peanuts, and other variations you could imagine (such as grass jelly)... And, in the evening, we treated ourselves to a delicious freshly prepared fish, deep fried in a batter with garlic, chilies, and all kinds of side condiments (no exotic fish, no rare fish, this is my requirement for any seafood restaurant) - both of us ate for around 5 USD, a similar meal in the U.S. would be around 40-50 USD. And, we also prepared for our departure to Java. We exercised every option to avoid the flight, but ultimately had to do it (the seas were too rough, and Pelni ferries were as always over-sold by hundreds of passengers contributing to already unsafe status). We left Makassar around 5 a.m. to allow enough time for the airport and to avoid getting reaped off by taxi drivers - no public bus option for Makassar airport - toll roads and freeways only; did someone say Indonesia was poor? We got a reasonable taxi quote, and arrived with plenty of time for our flight. By the way, almost no security at Makassar airport. We landed in Surabaya a couple of hours later. Excellent public transport, by the way, from the airport to the city center. We settled in an old colonial villa hotel, for around 10 USD a night (including basic breakfast, and unlimited hot tea throughout the day). Surabaya was a practical stop for us. We had to decide how to plan additional time traveling in SE Asia, and instead of initially planned two days, we ended up staying for about a week. We also met our New Year here - treated ourselves to a cute restaurant, among other things ordering Chicken Gordon Bleu and Avocado-Chocolate drink. The meal was the whole 7 USD for both - I know, it was a splurge, we usually eat for half of that, but it was the New Year's after all. :) Surabaya, especially after Kalimantan and Sulawesi islands, was too big, too polluted, and traffic was absolutely insane. Traffic lights and cross walks are disregarded by motorists, and crossing a busy street was like playing with your own life. And, traffic is constant, almost 24 hours a day. Again, did someone say Indonesia was poor? The 1st of January was the most peaceful day for us in Surabaya. We walked across town to a peaceful Buddhist temple called Kong Co Kong Tik Cun Ong, where I put candles for our parents - 11 years of death anniversary of my mom, and 10 of Rob's dad. Afterwards, we walked to the Arab part of town, with a market and famous Masjid (Muslim temple). Afterwards, we went to a small restaurant for a peaceful meal and picked up a few treats on the way. As always, Muslim part of town means no reap offs, and warm welcome. Eventually, we packed up backpacks, and headed out for a train from Surabaya to Malang. The train was over-crowded, but we managed to get our own seats, plus the ride was pretty cheap, less than .50 cents for 2.5 hour journey...
Today is December 24. Holidays don't matter as much when one travels for many months. Often, holidays become just another day in a calendar, a distant memory of the "normal" holiday agenda... I feel happy today though and finally rested. The weather has been perfect for the last few days - the Western monsoon calmed down, and it is perfectly still on both sides of Sulawesi peninsula. We are staying on the Southern most tip of Sulawesi, on the East side called Pantai Timur. We have been here for almost a week now (after a futile attempt to find more isolation at near-by Pulau Selayar, which turned out to be another example of commercial greed taking over the island). And, we have been snorkeling and enjoying waves and sunset on the Western side (about 25 minutes walk from the Eastern side) called Pantai Bira. Pantai Timur (where we are staying) is secluded and quiet, it is a strip of perfect white sand surrounded by turquoise ocean and palm trees, and a few fishing boats. There is actually only place to stay on Pantai Timur - one thatch bungalow on stilts (which we are occupying) and one house (occupied by a Dutch couple). Besides that, our only company on the beach are the locals and sea gypsies. The sea gypsies have a Nomadic lifestyle, they follow calm seas and make their living by fishing. They set up their camp right on the beach; and in the evening the entire families gather around small fires for the meal. They sleep under the plastic tarp, and there is always laughter and good mood around their place. The sea gypsies are well accepted by a local community, and a mutual respect is a given. They seem genuinely happy and friendly, and we are always greeted by friendly "hello's" and big smiles. We were told that in a few months when the monsoon starts from the East, the sea gypsies will pack up and go to a new location, but for now while the weather and ocean are still on Pantai Timur, they'll be hanging around for a while.
Up till today there were only a few westerners in Bira, and we had the entire place to ourselves including the ocean, cliffs, beach, and town. Today, more tourists (mostly Australians) showed up on the West side, and the place started to loose its exotic feel. A lot more uncovered half naked bodies (frequently sunburnt) marching through the streets, often not in the best shapes that probably would have looked a lot better by being covered up (just a reminder, we are in the Muslim part of the country)... Luckily, by staying on the East side we are well isolated from bad foreign habits, and the four of us keep a piece of tranquility to ourselves, haring the ocean and a piece of paradise only with the sea gypsies...
Going back to the ocean.... We got some instructions from locals where to go snorkeling around the reef, and we were also told that we might get lucky and see a turtle. Huh??? Is that it? We should be able to do better that that we thought, but we kept our expectations low. After two days of snorkeling on the East side, we decided to take our chances on the West side - by that time the seas got really calm and visibility improved up to 20 meters (60 ft). We swam from the shore towards the reef, and decided to leisurely snorkel about 2 km along the coast line, and then turn around and return the same distance back - luckily both Rob and I wear wet suits, which allows us to stay in the water for hours (4 hours per day this time). We took it slow and easy, sometimes we felt almost weightless, if flying in the water... We were rewarded greatly with what we have seen in the water, and when we gave report of the marine life sightings after each snorkel day to the locals, they were pleasantly shocked to hear what we'd seen. Later on, a few of them were waiting for us with stories of our snorkel adventure. We were supposed to see a turtle, if lucky - what did we see? Here is the abbreviated list: 32 sightings of sea turtles, 4 sightings of black tip reef sharks, eagle ray, banded sea snake, two sightings of 40+ and 60+ napoleon fish, giant moray eels, 3 blue spotted sting rays, barracudas, yellow pipe/needle/trumpet fish, giant parrot and butterfly fish, clown fish, lots of hard and soft corals (some giant brain corals); numerous tropical fish.
After a long day of snorkel, we'd head out to a small restaurant for dinner, we wouldn't bother changing our wet clothes, straight to the eatery carrying wet suits, fins, masks, and snorkels. That's a good part about traveling in the developing world - foreigners are accepted wit hall their peculiarities...
Now, I have to share a not so happy memory... As a matter of fact, a very sad one. One night at dinner, I noticed a baby goat limping along side of the road. Bira has goats every where, but I never see such young babies by themselves. At first we thought, maybe the mother was somewhere behind, but the next day we say the baby goat by herself again. We approached her and realized one of her legs was broken, she could move but with difficulty. She was a tiny cute baby girl goat, maybe two month old, with big ears and cute brown eyes; and she did not have a mother. We petted her, and gave her some mango peels. She began eating it with great pleasure, but mostly she wanted to be cuddled. We started bringing her mango peels, rice, water, grapefruit pieces, and occasional donuts. At first, locals were laughing at us, but day by day they stopped, and we even introduced a few kids to feeding the baby goat. One day, we even noticed that her fur got washed from all the accumulated poop niblets. Eventually, we even tracked down her owner. We were cordially invited to his house, and he explained to us, that the baby goat was born with broken legs, and that her mother refused to breast feed her. The owner gave the baby goat a milk from a concentrate, but recently his wife has a motorcycle accident and broke her leg. After that, the owner did not have the time to take care of the baby goat, so he took her away from his house where he thought she'd be safer and would not be attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Do I believe his story? Maybe, but just barely... My translation is this - it is possible the goat was born crooked, but most likely she was run over by a crazy motorcycle - most assholes do not stop for anything or anybody. It is possible, the owner took an effort to feed the baby goat with milk at first, but eventually failed to see a point in continuing doing so - he couldn't sell a crooked goat for meet or cattle. It is possible, that he took a baby goat in a safer location (never mind all the traffic, motorcycles, cars, bemos) but most likely he simply didn't care to have her around - out of sight out of mind. I really hope I am wrong. And, I really hope that after our departure, there is still a kind soul in Bira who would not mind caring for a gentle, sweet, baby goat with big trusting eyes and floppy ears even though she has only three paws and might not live very long...
After a horrible sleepless over-night ferry crossing from Kalimantan, followed by seven more hours on the packed bus (sitting on the edge of the heated engine compartment because the seats are simply not designed to accommodate a Western (taller, bigger) body), though being cheered on by Indonesian passengers offering sweet treats to make a journey nicer, we finally arrived in Rantepao. The main purpose of coming here was to explore a unique area of Toraja known for its elaborate funeral ceremonies and rituals, as well as an outstanding mountainous scenery and elaborate traditional houses. I must warn you, that shortly following description may contain some gruesome and disturbing details. Please feel free to skip some parts of this entry if the images are too vivid. Anyway, before I go on with the rituals let me describe our first night in Rantepao... After Kalimantan, where Rob and I were often the only Westerners, Rantepao to us seemed touristy - even though we saw not more than 5-10 foreigners (too many for our taste). Anyway, we were able to find a decent place for around 7USD including a nice breakfast each morning. Our room faced a peaceful garden with a pond of gold fish, and a traditional wooden houses, brightly colored and decorated, called tongkonan. The architecture of tongkonan is very distinct - it has the towering roof, rearing up at either end. It almost looks like a gigantic buffalo horns. The construction has several purposes - it is sometimes used for storing rice, sometimes as a family meeting place, and sometimes for storing coffins with dead bodies, of course. Nevertheless, the architectural details of the building is stunning. Anyway, after settling in in our room, Rob and I went to find something to eat - the streets were barely lit, plus loss of electricity was an ongoing thing in Rantepao often causing falls and motorbike accidents. We found a stall run by a couple of young guys selling cheap breaded deep-fried chicken (a local version of KFC, except it was served with mouth burning chilies). We have noticed a weird looking guy staring at us - we are used to being stared at, but what was different about this guy was that he would not reply to our "hello". By looking at him we determined he was either crazy or on drugs. We left the street stall, but the guy began stalking us, following our every move. It was a very unusual behavior for an Indonesian. After being unable to "loose" the guy, we noticed a small police station, and popped in in there in hopes to defer the stalker. A young police guy came out to greet us, and we asked his permission to spend a few minutes at his station. The police guy, named Roma, was very welcoming and could speak some English. We began talking, and Roma shared with us some " insider" information. Apparently, an elaborate traditional funeral was scheduled for the next day, and he thought it would be very interesting for us to see it. You see, in order to attend a ritual funeral - the highlight of the trip to Toraja - foreigners are normally required a guide, attached with a price tag. Rob and I had tried to find our about possible viewing without a guide, but were intentionally misinformed by guide on the location and direction. Obviously, it is a big business for guides here, and they keep mum about it, unless they are paid. That is why the information provided to us by our new acquaintance, policeman Roma, was so valuable to us. Roma gave us an exact village name, the name of the family, and directions how to get there. Naturally, from a good heart, no payment intended.
The next morning we ventured onto to find the village where the traditional funeral ceremony would take place. Roma's directions were great, and with a help of locals we found the ritual village without any issues. This is where the gruesome details will begin... On the way to the village we were passed by several trucks transporting pigs and buffaloes. We knew the purpose of the cargo, but did not know the specifics. When we reached the ceremonial place, things became a lot more obvious. It was a BIG ceremonial funeral, about 10 people were to be sent off to a "better world" - let me mention here, however, that all of them passed a while back, so obviously they were kept for a while somewhere else... The large field surrounded by tongkonan (traditional buildings) and observation platforms, had already spills of fresh blood. A designated head of the funeral, dressed in the traditional clothing looking like a colorful version of Roman toga, was dancing and laughing in a weird fashion, and screaming in animal voices in an old Torajan dialect in a microphone. The pigs were laying on the ground, and screaming their lungs out - their legs and bodies were tied up to bamboo CARRYING STICKS, some pigs were horribly dehydrated, and a raging foam was coming out of their mouth. Some, accepted their destiny, and were laying calm; and on a very rare occasion we could see a pig covered in palm leaves to help with a hot sun, and maybe even petted slightly on the ears - the latter was THE exception. Right next to it all, there were kitchens preparing for the funeral feast for numerous family members, that kept coming and coming. Among the traditionally dressed young men forming a circle in a dance and moaning, more and more pigs and buffaloes kept being brought it - the names of the deceased were announced, and the sides of pigs and buffaloes got marked with large painted letters, presumably the initials of the deceased. The smell of fresh blood, poop, sweat, garlic and curry made me feel nauseous. Rob went to sit down away from the "main stage", he felt he could faint. In addition, the heat and sun were ruthless. Luckily, and to our relief, we missed the actual slaughtering part... A few locals tried talking to us, and some were very surprised we were able to find the ceremony without a guide - they may have even respected that. We were welcome to stay and observe the ceremony, and could even come for the the second day, when the buffaloes will be slaughtered; but over all the "show" was not for tourists, it was their real deal. Young kids, part of ceremony, were patiently observing the event, and seemingly unbothered by the slaughter and animal distress. It is a part of life and death in Toraja, it has been a tradition for several centuries, the normal occurrence... The deceased needs a slaughtered buffalo, so his soul could reach the heaven... And, pigs need to be slaughtered to seal the deal, or something like that... Several days later, by hiking through the surrounding villages, we saw quite a few buffalo skins laying on the roads and drying under the sun. They still had spills of fresh blood, but everything else looked peaceful. While walking on a side of a road, a guide on a motorbike blocked our way and asked "Do you want to see the ceremony?", "Already have", we replied, and kept walking away. Now, what happens with the actual bodies of the deceased? That's another ritual ceremony. No - they are not buried or cremated. The bones are put in wooden coffins, and some are hang on the trees, some are put on the cave, and some are simply put on the rocks. Families are usually "buried" together, so when it's their turn, the bones are simply added onto the previous "grave", creating a pile of skulls, bones, etc. Ke'te Kesu is the best example of such, along with Lemo - villages around Rantepao. And, for the best scenery taking a bemo to a village of Batutumonga, up in the mountains, and then walking about 7-10 km towards Tikala among the rice fields and hills is a way to take in the peaceful side of Toraja. Just skip Pana, there are no longer baby graves hanging in the trees there. You just have to do with the normal adult graves in caves and rocky outcrops in the near by Lokomata. Tried to put a sense of humor here, hope it wasn't too tasteless. Seriously, the hiking in those areas were a delight - lots of introspective into lives of villagers, and as always lots of happy kids, no matter if they are playing in the mud, cultivating the rice fields, or simply splashing in the untreated water. Rantepao was also a turning point in our itinerary. My initial place was to take us North - to Togean islands, and possibly all the way to Bunaken Marine Park. However, the roads were washed out, and two days of traveling on a bus would have likely turned into four or even five days (needless to say in over-packed smoke-through buses). So, we decided to literally make a U-turn, and instead head out straight South. The sudden change in plans was somewhat disappointing to me (I knew exactly what to do up North), but sometimes unexpected changes bring their own rewards...
Countries explored: Australia, Belgium, Belize, Bolivia, Cambodia, Chile, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Ecuador, Egypt, El Salvador, France, Germany, Greece, Guatemala, Honduras, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Italy, Japan, Laos, Luxembourg, Malaysia, Mexico, Morocco, Namibia, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Panama, Peru, Philippines, Qatar, Singapore, South Africa, South Korea, Sri Lanka, Sweden, Taiwan, Thailand, Turkey, UK, Vietnam.
Bicycled: 3,500km from Paris to Stockholm; 3,500km along the Rhine River and Netherlands; and 3,600km in NW Europe (UK, France, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Denmark); New Zealand (North & South Islands).
Lived: United States, Netherlands, Russia.
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