Indonesia Raya

A pseudo journal of a quasi-cross island trek with my favorite traveler, Nara.



22nd of June, Jakarta (Indonesia)

It has been four years, wow. Nothing much has changed. The streets of Pengadegan remains the same. The mosque with an interesting roof motif few meters beyond Menara Saidah still echoes the dutiful azan through its staticky megaphone. Harly's, apparently, never managed to stand up after its slump. A warung pulsa now stands from where the stall used to cater tired, hungry students looking forward to a plate of kwetiaw to get them through another day. Only the laundry stall near the entrance of LIA is now replaced by a Fresh Mart outlet. The green mosque in front of Alfamart is still the same. The musollah is still the same. The payung area looked exactly like how they did back in 2012. Rusty and nostalgic. Nothing much has changed and yet I felt the weight of five years gone by sink heavily on my shoulders. The dirty white walls of LIA stared at me as if saying "we stay here; you're just passing by". It was beautiful to see things just the same as they were when I left. But at the same time, it was painful. At least when things change, I feel that I am not leaving anything behind.

I did not drop by my old koses near the school. I am no longer sure if the Bunda still lives there or if the nenek is still around.  I did check out the warung soto. It was one of the five things I am looking forward to upon my return. I am glad to see the stall unchanged. Sadly, I was not able to break my fast in my usual hang out place. The bapak who runs it ternyata mudik. It is, after all, Lebaran.

I also met with some of the kids. Years ago, I promised Kopent that I will bring him Filipino food when I return. It is more of a promise of returning than the actual bringing of food. It did not take much to send him a message and have him scooting to the campus. Decky and Tit came too. The employment world really left a mark on Decky. He is no longer the tall, lanky kid from way back. I joked that he looked like a dad now and that he probably should change his facebook profile picture now that five years have passed. I'm glad to see that they're doing well.

On the day of my flight to Surabaya, I dropped by my first kos in Buncit Raya. I have to see nenek. For a moment, I was scared I won't be able to meet her again or that she might have forgotten about me. But she didn't. It was emotional, to say the least. I remember back then, she would visit me in my room and talk to me in Indonesian. I respond back in English. I cannot comprehend what she was saying and neither does she; and yet, I understood that she cared. This time, I talked to her in her native tongue. Of course, my fluency has dwindled and I struggled on some basic words. Nonetheless, I can now understand every word she's saying.

Long may she live.

~*~

23rd of June, Malang

I literally traveled a thousand kilometers today just to chill. Chill, because Malang is so chilly tonight I felt the cold seep in my bones despite the heavy sweater. The sambal in the ayam penyet did not taste that spicy either. Also, hail Pemerintah Jawa Timur! Our train tickets are free and we received food-filled loot bags. Huehuehue.

~*~

25th of June, Surabaya

Malang is Bromo, illegal GrabCar rides from the station, nighttime jalan kaki, Eid prayer away from home, free opor ayam, kampung warna-warni, and two days filled with laughter.

My last sahoor for this year is a cup of PopMie Ayam Bawang. It is not enough but anything near 90° is warm enough to help me sit through three hours in 6° temperature 2.329 meters above sea level. Mt. Bromo's sunrise is as pretty as any other sunrise but perhaps what makes the experience better is the biting cold that would sting your skin and leave your fingernails blue. Kidding aside, it's the company---whether it is a friend you really enjoy hanging out with or the mas of the travel agency who takes really good photos.

Downtown Malang is warmer but it is still too cold for a warm-blooded-hell-on-earth-raised kid such as me. Bapa Mick's idea of walking around the city at night made us more lenient to the cold. Past empty Dutch-named streets, pretty houses, warungs, bakso stalls, cute cafés, alun-aluns, and throngs of people doing takbiran, we fought Malang's chilly embrace with laughter spawned from punny Javanese lines and unique but relatable experiences of an orang asing who found a bit of home in the highlands of Jawa Timur.

I lost count of the number of times I spent Eid'l Fitr away from my family but this year is one worth remembering. Last night's Sopir Mas told me Eid prayer is at 5:30. So I tried to be comfortable with my two hours of sleep only to find out that actual prayer starts at 6. Ditipuhin masnya! But all is well especially when you are woken up with free portions of opor ayam. Bapak dropped by the guesthouse around nine and brought us to this colorful village few streets off Pasar Besar. It is as hot as any June noon could go in Malang and I felt my ternyata kelinci, ternyata sapi shirt stick against my skin. It was fun, nonetheless, especially when you get to meet new people and eat at Richeese Factory right after.

Few hours later, Narastika, Bapa, and I would sit sipping our minuman at a warung across Malang station with the afternoon rain falling around us. The sweat and tiredness of this morning's crusade is lost and we are left with happy smiles as we wait for our train to Surabaya.

Selamat Hari Lebaran! Mohon maaf lahir dan bathin!

~*~

27th of June, Lombok

They say the beaches in Lombok are way better than the beaches in Bali. I haven't had the time to tour around the island of Bali yet but I dare say Lombok did not disappoint. I also learned today that Lombok is the home of the Sasak ethnic group and they weave the prettiest cloth called songket. The vendors selling the goods are usually the ones weaving it too. I saw a shop with a girl vendor, probably not older than fifteen, weaving. Nara told me that in the land of the Sasak, a maiden cannot marry until she is able to weave her first loom. The idea got stuck in my head and gave birth to this make-believe story:

Once upon time there was a girl so good with her hands the people in their village decided that she will be the best songket-maker in the island long before she could touch a thread for the first time. The girl was full of fervor and anticipation on learning how to weave until she found out that in the village of the Sasak, a maiden cannot be married unless she finishes weaving her first loom. With men waiting in line to marry the promised lady with the Hands of Gold, the girl refused to learn the art of weaving knowing that in doing so, in putting her dreams to cloth, she will lose her freedom. Her talent untapped, the girl left her village, rode a sandal, and flew to the moon, where dreams and looms and threads form the universe, dwarfing the tiny island of Lombok that she once called home.

In one of the Sasak villages stands an old tree which the locals call "Pohon Cinta" (Tree of Love). Apparently, young couples back in the day would meet secretly under this tree and elope. I find it funny how couples can still meet "secretly" there when the tree is famous for such reputation. I mean, if I were a mom and my daughter or son has missed the curfew, I know exactly where to find her or him.

And since we're in Lombok, Nara insisted that we go to Mataram, Nusa Tenggara Barat's capital. My first thoughts upon hearing Mataram are that of towering temples. But alas, we are in it for something better: their famed Ayam Taliwang. Of course, what would be a better reason to visit a place than food? Eighteen kilometers away from our hotel, Nara and I watched the sun paint the sky a pretty glow in Pantai Senggigi. The silhouette of Mt. Rinjani, Lombok's highest peak, adds to the picturesque scene. When we returned to the taxi who willingly waited for us, the driver asked whether we've tried the lobsters. Apparently, the boats that dot the horizon are there to catch lobsters. Next time, I'll make sure to grab a piece. Again, we went here for the food.

~*~

30th of June, Bali

I think it is fated that Nara and I have to suffer whenever we travel together. Apart from the fact that my face is now five shades darker than my arms, our trip to the West side of Bali is a whirlpool of emotions.

Nusa Penida's Brontosaurus/Tyrannosaurus whatever cliff and Broken Bay may as well be paradise but the way to get there is through hell. They should also change Angel's Billabong to Devil's Billabong. The road might as well be Indonesia's answer to Philippines' Abortion Roads. I have sat through four hours of bumpy motorcycle ride my flat bum might have concaved and I won't even be surprised.

Nonetheless, I love Bali. Few days aren't enough. Nusa Penida, itself, needs at least a week. I want to go back.

~*~

1st of July, Mandaluyong (Philippines)

A letter to Nara:

Narachu! Ah, how do I even start talking about this trip? Haha! It has been a very fruitful six days travelling with you. Fruitful because, as I've told you, I am so lazy and I just sleep my trips away most of the time. I still can't believe that I was able to do a loooooooooot of things and go to many places in such a short span of time! (And I have you to blame HAHAHAH) 

From getting almost frozen in Bromo (we are prepared for winter now!!), meeting Bapa Mick, staying in an apparently haunted area in Surabaya (which I did not even feel because I was pre-occupied with their weird-ass staircase), waking up early (THIS IS SUCH A CHORE OK) to catch flights and sunrise, riding motorcycles over bumpy roads under the intense heat of the Indonesian sun (korean name: Go Song), night sessions with our friend Raddler (hehe), food trips (FREE OPOR AYAM! 200K HANAMASA! FOOD FROM THAT KANTIN PEGAWAI! STEAK! AYAM TALIWANG!), OOTD shots, free stuff we get from traveling during lebaran, and "illegal" grab rides.

So many things happened in those six days. I can't believe they actually /managed/ to fit those six days. Apart from the sensory feast (c/o Indonesia's beautiful places), I now have the following stuff added to Sempurna in the box of "things Nara will remind me of": pesan lagu and that fathermocking badak dan ikan song (UGH!), "notteu diz shitteu again", Pop Mie, and the rest of the stuff I mentioned in the previous paragraph. 

"Knock, knock" "Ngga mau" "Buuuu, pesan lagu, bu" "I'm tired of your shit"
ok just thinking about this makes me laugh again hahahaha

This trip had me (almost) losing a lot of things (e.g. handphone, energy, sanity, patience) but it also made me find something more: youth (lol), excitement, and a higher level of friendship. I have discovered that I have the magnificent talent of being able to sleep anywhere (car, train, etc.) anytime except in my bed at night when I am supposed to be sleeping. I have also learned that you have a knack for choosing the prettiest low-cost hotels omg 

The trip did not go as smoothly as we had expected (from the streets of Tanah Abang to the rocky roads of Nusa Penida... it seems that hellish journeys will always be part of our memories together. Haha! Well, Tanah Abang got better after a year so I'm guessing Nusa Penida will be fine few years from now too). Nonetheless, I hope that the memories we've shared---good or bad---will form a stronger foundation to our friendship despite the distance. 

I don't know when (or where) I will see you again but I do know that I will always look back on these past six days years, and even decades, from now... the good memories will be remembered fondly and the bad, would cease to be as bad at is, and will probably even bring a smile to my face whenever I think of it. Like any memory would after Time has softened its edges. 

That's the thing with memories, the longer we have them, the little we remember of them. We won't even be able to discern if such memories were happy or sad or what. The details will no longer be palpable and the only thing that is left is the faint shadow of the emotions we associate with the person we share those memories with. 

As for me, the time we had will always be precious. What I told you on the plane from Surabaya to Lombok still stands true, I believe you are destined for greatness. You are a brave and wonderfully gifted person. I am honored to be your friend. 

All the best for the next chapter of your life (in Australia) as you go on conquering the world.