The Travelogue, Part XXI - Indonesia: Conclusion

After over a month in Kalimantan and Sulawesi, here's my summary on what impression this country has left me with and what is like to travel in it. For the sake of simplicity I will use the term Indonesia, even if the described state might only apply to aforementioned islands.

Ease of Travel

Although they might look like they are close together, sights in Indonesia are painfully far apart. No map adequately conveys the situation you will encounter locally; what looks like roads are actually pothole cruises and flooded dirt tracks which curl up and down the ubiquitous mountain ranges in serpentines. You will likely be seated in a rusty bus with enough legroom for a four-year-old, driven by an amphetamine-guzzling maniac who will make you share his sleep deprivation by blasting bittersweet Indonesian love songs at you both day and night. The Indonesian habit of leaving only with a full vehicle will sometimes cost you hours, as the bus slowly meanders through villages in search of additional passengers. Rain and accidents can make a route all but impassable and you should always plan on getting stuck somewhere, especially off the main roads.

In general, the amount of travel between things you want to see is rarely proportionate to their quality which is probably why many people who come to these islands only visit a single location (such as Bunaken island.)
The upside is that travel is quite affordable, but make sure you know the local price as people will always overcharge you. Flights are very, very cheap so if you make use of them more often than not it will save you a lot of hassle. I didn't, and consequently lost a lot of time.

Travel outside heavily frequented areas is immensely expensive and if you want to get off the beaten track, bring enough cash to fit in a sports bag. ATMs only dispense up to 1.25 million Rupiah ( ~ 150 $), so if you're going places without banks, prepare for a longer stay in a town just to get cash.
Knowledge of Bahasa Indonesia is almost required. If you have trouble learning languages (or lack of desire to do so), stick to the main tourist sites. Bahasa Indonesia is as easy a language as they come, with next to no grammar, so even a little effort is quickly rewarded by welcoming smiles.

Social Interactions

 
While far from homogenous I generally found Indonesians to be very pleasant and friendly, although they will never go out of their way to help you or approach you with helpful intention. If someone makes contact (more than the constant "Hello Mister" shouts) they always want your money. No exceptions. I know that sounds harsh, but I have never been to any country where people are making such effort to get to your finances. Indonesians with more innocent intentions are too shy to just chat you up and will almost never do so. Even if people seemingly only want to hang out, they will bring up their business interests later on and interaction will promptly cease once they are declined.

 

This behaviour permeates through society, from peasant to politician, and has left me somewhat disappointed. That isn't to say you can't make friends. It is just very difficult, requires your initiative and becomes nigh impossible as soon as any commercial opportunity is spotted. The most friendly people ironically seem to be those who already have lots of money, invitations for food and excessive fotoshooting usually follow suit.
Corruption is reliably rampant and you will always find someone who will let you into a closed site for a small fee.


Cost and Quality of Living

Indonesia is cheap with meals being between 1 and 5 $, overland transport roughly 10 $ for 4 hour rides, flights between cities between 30 and 50 $. Accommodation is around 4 to 10 $ for cheaper hostels.
Indonesian food is good; but rarely so great you'd want to write home about. People have been telling me it's better on Bali and Java, but on Sulawesi the food lives more off its novelty value than its quality. Flavours tend to be simple and earthy and if you don't like it spicy you might find yourself going hungry in smaller towns. If you expect to get any of the produce the area is famous for then you will be disappointed: practically all high quality cocoa, coffee or fruit the islands produce get exported.
Room price is no indicator for quality and you might find a 4 $ room in Palu to be cleaner and more comfortable than a 12$ room in Samarinda.

Tourism Value

Indonesia's inaccessibility is both its burden and its boon. It is entirely possible to find pristine valleys and jungles without having to rent an entire expedition team and in some areas the only modern items you'll find are cigarettes. If you love hiking, trekking and diving, then Indonesia is a country of extraordinary beauty and limitless amazement: lush islands, towering volcanoes, green rice fields and beautiful reefs abound here and can be enjoyed at relatively low cost. The longer you wait however, the less of this beauty you will find, as I fear the rampant destruction of Indonesia's natural resources and increasing tourism will mean that in the not-too-far future your experience will be much less grandiose.

In terms of culture there is relatively little to see. Far from the temples of Bali and the bustle of Jakarta, the only "cultural" activity is visiting the many semi-civilized tribes and their strange rituals. I personally have my qualms with ethno-tourism, but if you enjoy bull sacrifices and attending random stranger's funerals, you'll have a blast. The small island sultanates have left little tangible history and European legacy consists mainly of half-dismantled forts. On the plus side, Indonesia's cultural heritage is often up for sale in exchange for a little fee. Just make sure you leave enough time so they can make a replica for future generations to display.

Conclusion

So did I enjoy myself? Not as much as I expected: many of my initial plans were thwarted by underestimating travel times and costs due to the utterly incorrect information given in the Lonely Planet guide, as well as by the fickle nature of activities such as wildlife spotting. Social interaction with Indonesians was unfortunately more often unpleasant then not, even if some notable exceptions make up for that. The amount of effort required for what you're actually getting was not always optimal; however, I would definitely consider this leg of my journey a success. It was a classical case of coming in search of one thing and finding something else more valuable instead.

Indonesia has given me an entirely new perspective on my life, one that we all get taught about in regular intervals, but that only really reveals itself when you experience it first hand: The amazing amount of luck we all have to be born in a wealthy, liberal country with education, safety and freedom of choice. To see societies where the benefits that we all take for granted do not exist makes you understand how far we have come as a race and what an immense amount of progress the accumulated efforts of human beings can bring.
When you enter a semi-tribal community where people have been headhunters as recently as a decade ago, where a sleight to someone's personal honor caused by unwillingness to share cigarettes can justify a murder, where people still believe that shamans can fly or kill with a glance, then you realize what vast distance reason had to overcome to give us even basic human rights and codes of law. It has made me appreciate the safety that comes with our modern society, and that a social faux pas will not get me killed unexpectedly. I have realized how original, daring and revolutionary the ideas of the great religion founders where, and why they took so many people by storm.

On a less fundamental note, meeting people who are stuck in remote villages with no means of education, no prospect of betterment of their situation, has once again shown me what a lucky bastard I am. Depressed because you didn't know what to do after uni? Too many choices, too many possibilities? I met people here who are very intelligent, but they don't even have a single possibility to ever make use of it. Doomed to live a life between the promises of the ubiquitous TV and their reality of untapped abilities, they eke out an existence in misery, wasting talent that will never come to fruition and are aware of their fate. Your ex was a jobless pothead? Well, lucky you, because you could leave. Here your only purpose in life as a woman is to get pinned down with your first kid when you are fourteen, shut up and hope that your husband doesn't turn out to be a violent drunkard. And be careful with how happy you are: women who enjoy themselves too much are always in suspicion of being a loose woman, and we're not even talking sex yet. Your boss is an incompetent asshole? You won't mind that if you are working under the prospect that he will shoot you and dump you overboard if he considers you incompetent.

Indonesia has filled me with a deep and lasting gratitude about my lot in life, the infinitely small chance of being born into a life that gives me, and indeed all of us, infinite opportunities if we only pursue them. It also left me with a certain sense that, in a way, I owe all those people I met here to make fullest use of this chance given to me, to not waste the many potentials we are given. I know it's something we hear often, but next time you are stuck in a traffic jam, get rejected by someone you find hot or you feel overwhelmed with the demands of the modern world, I urge you to think about all the unlucky suckers who would love to be in your place and I hope it makes it more bearable.

The Travelogue, Part XVIII - Sulawesi: Behind the Green Wall

 

Finally I made it: I ventured into the jungle, quite specifically the Lore Lindu National Park. Now what did I see there? The answer is: not much. But I learned a lot about local culture and why wildlife conservation does not work. Despite that, it was still good fun, and a very scenic trek.

Ascent to the mountain

We (meaning the guide, the porter and me) started off in the Christian town of Tentena, next to the quite remarkable Lake Poso. Not too long ago, Muslims and Christians fought each other heavily in this area, the product of a youth brawl that escalated into full-scale war that cost over 1000 people their lives.

The Bada valley in all its glory

From here we made our way into the Bada Valley, a lovely stretch of pristine farmland, cut off from the rest of the world until the late eighties. Even now, there´s not much road between the potholes and often the jeep would not be able to continue without ad-hoc road repairs and lots of pushing. On the other side of the mountains, though, lies the most peaceful and quaint bucolic village you can imagine: pastel-coloured houses with picket fences are surrounded by lush, green fields in which buffalo graze and peasants plant their rice. Life is easy here. There are no seasons and crops can be planted all year round: rice, cocoa, corn, vanilla, coffee, papaya, whatever your farmer heart might wish for.

The humble buffalo is still the main agricultural tool here

Apart from offering some amazing hikes into the surrounding countryside, the area is known for its ancient megaliths, large stones sculptured into human likeness that are littered across the whole valley. No one knows where they came from or who crafted them, but scholars assume they were made by a small paleontholithic civilization of which no other trace remains.

A female megalith statue of unknown origin

We spent the night there and made for the national park the following morning.

Early morning view of the national park

From the village we went on a freshly made ranger path into the mountain jungle. During the three day journey we were to cover 60 kilometers spread across 2000 meters altitude. The path was barely recognizable, but the my guides knew where to go...and so did every else, unfortunately.

I was expecting an unending barrage of mysterious animal noises, like I heard so many times in countless documentaries and movies before. Instead, the jungle stayed eerily silent. Apart from the occassional bird call once every hour or so, only the persistent scratching of the cicadas filled my ears. No monkeys, no hornbills, not even geckos or frogs. 

Overnight stay is in shelters like these.

For a while I thought, the place was generally wild, but then I saw more and more paths branching out from our own, as frequent as three or four every twenty minutes. That's when a whole lot of explaining started that showed me why, despite protection, rangers and NGO funding nature reserves don't last long in Indonesia and, assumedly, in the rest of the world. 

Self-made kerosene lamps are the only lights

Basically, when a ranger makes a new path, for reasons of tending to the forest or ecotourism, it's the signal for the whole village to use it to exploit the forest. Some of these forms of exploitation is relatively harmless, like the gathering of Agatis sap, others, hunting, trapping, logging are not. For the majority of my trek I was never far from the sound of an illegal chainsaw, the chopping of machetes and the barking of dogs. Obviously, faced with the constant assault of noise and activity, no animal, from the rare anoa to the common monkey would stay anywhere close the trail, and those unfortunate ones who make their presence known quickly fall victim to poachers. While anoa and babi rusa are trapped for their meat (which sells for about 50000 rupiah a piece), monkeys and birds are captured as pets. 

Captured Hornbill

For an example of how extreme this persecution can get, hear the fate of the humble Toke, also known as gecko. When Chinese traders in Sulawesi announced they would pay good money for any dead gecko the locals could find (for use in Chinese medicine), the inhabitants of Sulawesi managed within only a few years to all but eradicate the gecko from the Island, where before it was abundant. As my guide told me, if anyone would hear the sound of its voice (the characteristic "Eck-awww") nearby, they would make straight for the tree to take it down. Well, that explains at least why I didn't hear any geckos. And while jungle life is elusive, I reckon that the two spring traps we destroyed on the way and the many dogs brought by Agatis collectors ( who claim they need the dogs to "protect" them from wild animals) have not helped much.

The ranger sharing supplies with the poachers. They're buddies after all.

The route, however, was stunning, with very diverse vegetation and microlife across the trek, from fern forest to rainforest and almost alpine looking yellow meadows.

View from the mountains on Doda village

Bushland

Primary Forest

Fern Forests

Speaking of alpine vegetation: in an effort to fight errosion caused by logging and farmland creation, the government planted easily obtained european pine trees, which causes the affected areas to look exactly like Switzerland or Tyrol. Filled me with a sense of home. The government was unaware that the pine tree is a tough tree that would take over the local ecosystem, but the villagers love them, because the lower vegetation density makes shooting the remaining wildlife that ventures there easier. Mind you, please, that this is all information given freely by my guide.

The Alps? Canada? No, tropical Sulawesi...

At this time it dawned to me that nature reserve does not have to mean that an area is protected for it's great biodiversity, but simply because it is the only bloody forest left to protect. Within the national park are many small villages, grown to ten times their size due to higher life expectations and absence of family planning. Where before the forest could sustain the unrestrained reaping of its resources, now it won't, and I give this reserve another 20 years before it's gone the way of the Sulawesi gecko. It's not a often glorified way of living in harmony with nature that kept these communities sustainable for the forest, but rather their small size. The people themselves have no idea why protecting the environment or the extinction of a species would be of any importance. To quote a local hunter when asked: "Oh, when all animals are gone, I can live from logging. And if all the trees are gone, I can plant cocoa! No problem!"

Despite all this, I have learned a lot about jungle life; what plants to suck for water if no rivers are around, which herb cures rabies and how to always find some Agatis resin to get a fire started.

Agatis sap is harvested for candles and candy coating

I also learned that the most dangerous creature in the Sulawesi forest is the Anoa, or Pygmy Buffalo, which may only stand 80 centimeters tall, but is relentless and vicious in its attacks. For the more paranoid people among you: never be the second person in a trek line. Most wild animals never attack the first person passing, so the second usually gets pounced upon. I've braved river waters and swarms of wild bees, six different kinds of leeches and spiders the size of a dinner plate. Since I couldn't find any big things, I turned my attention to the smallest denizens of the rainforest, so there would be at least some pictures.

Moths the size of my hand...

...and spiders big enough to steal my soap.

This creature glues debris to its back to conceal itself.

Strange parasitic plants abound.

The locals call this bug "belanda" (holland) because of its nose

Even opening supplies can be potentially hurtful

A giant cicada

Nepentis plants attract insects that then fall into its digestive liquid

Looks like a forest, but is actually a microscopic moss

After the return is was amphetamine-fueled driving and cheesy Indonesian love songs all the way as usual. When remarked on his reckless driving on barely adequate roads through villages at night, the diver merely laughed and shouted: "Well, we're all good Christians, right?". The Muslims here have a similar sense of humor: when inquired to the safety of the airline I was supposed to fly with, the travel agent simply smiled at me and said "Inshallah". I just love travel in this country.

The next post will cover the Togean Islands, so if your work life can't bear pictures of tropical beaches, you might skip that one.