A picture is worth 1000 words

I didn't bring a camera.

I met Jarno the Dutch in Berastagi. Since we were both heading to Lake Toba, we went together. Jarno had previously met an Englishman named Keith in Penang, and Keith had invited him to stay with his family on Samosir Island. Keith, his Batak wife Norma, and their two young boys are currently living on Samosir in Lake Toba on a sabbatical from British life for a year. Their family is awesome and they basically adopted me and fed me every night like a starving orphan. Norma cooked food that I didn't know I was so desperately craving until I saw it - pizza, a proper British wild pig roast, fish and chips with fresh tuna, and curry chicken. And she's an amazing cook.

Jarno didn't have the best week. First, he got food poisoning and locked himself in his room for two days. Literally the day after he recovered from that he got in a motorcycle accident that by all accounts, including his own, was his own fault. He was on the wrong side of the road and had a head-on collision with another bike. He wasn't hurt too badly. His foot is very swollen and he has a possible fractured wrist. This is one of those situations where the expression "you should see the other guy" is completely applicable. The other guy had a dislocated jaw and went unconscious a few hours after the accident. Keith was home alone with the boys when Jarno showed up with some angry Batak locals who don't speak English, so he immediately called Norma for help. By her telling, the conversation went something like:

Keith: Hi honey, how are you?
Norma: I'm fine.
Keith: That's good, because everything is not fine here.

Norma was able to convince the other family not to involve the police. "It's just another person to pay." As is normal with these accidents, the injured man was taken to his house because the family can't afford to take him to the hospital. When they have assurance that Jarno will pay the hospital bills and have some cash up front, then they'll take him. Norma will take her cousin who is a local in Samosir to do the negotiations with the other family. All in all, this will be an expensive ordeal for Jarno. What will likely happen in the end is Jarno will pay for both motorcycles to be repaired (one of them belongs to Norma and Keith) and the victim's hospital bills, in addition to some additional cash as a good will gesture. He's just lucky that he has Norma on his side. The locals don't take well to foreigners causing accidents..

Poor Jarno.. but my week was fun. The staff at my guesthouse was awesome and I spent a whole lot of time doing nothing and hanging out with them. One night they had a fish barbecue after work, made some Batak sauce to dip it in, and hung out by the lake playing guitar and singing. I stayed longer than planned on Samosir because Norma convinced me that I should experience a Batak wedding. It was worth it.

After Samosir, I headed to the Batak village of Dolok Sanggul to which I was invited by the English teachers Lina and Frita the week before. When I hear the word village I immediately think of a quaint little place with a few cows grazing and a population of 20. Not so with Dolok Sanggul. This is a large village, kind of a Batak population center. When I got there, Lina and Frita picked me up from the bus station and took me to the wet market, where Lina's mother has a food stall. Lina's mother made me some spicy noodles with squid and some coffee. Of course, people were quite interested in me because foreigners never come here. Well, almost never. One man said I look like a terrorist. Don't worry, the irony is not lost on me. Apparently Afganis and Pakistanis have been known to use the area to make bombs to detonate in Batak churches and across Indonesia. So the man thought I might be from Afganistan.. Maybe it's time to shave and get a haircut.

That night I stayed in a hotel in town. Here's the view from my balcony:



My Afgan appearance was reaffirmed the next day when we were stopped by three plainclothes police officers demanding to see my passport. I handed them a copy. Ok, American.. So I'm not a terrorist. Next they asked to see my visa. Since I'm not a terrorist, they were hoping that I at least had an expired visa so that I could pay them not to arrest me. No dice, my visa is valid. At this point they changed tactics and asked Lina and Frita for their phone numbers, and for money (I'm not sure in which order..), both of which the girls declined.

Before I go on I should talk about Lina. She is 21 years old, still a university student (English language major), and a brilliant entrepreneur. She is currently running two language schools in two separate villages, with 8 teachers working for her and over 100 fee paying students. Her schools offer different class levels as well as private tutoring. The first school, and main office, is run out of her mother's house in Dolok Sanggul. The second school is in the remote village of Sipahutar, where I spent the last few days. Lina bought a "house" in Sipahutar where the teachers sleep, and they use rooms in the local senior high school to teach after school. She rotates teachers between the villages every few months to keep the kids interested, and she plans on opening two more schools in different villages next year. Her stated goal is "to develop my country." By creating a business, employing her friends, and encouraging more education I'd say she is on the right track. Pretty impressive, huh?

So that morning Lina and I headed a few hours into the rural abyss to Sipahutar to meet with Tia, who is the teacher currently stationed in Sipahutar. I would honestly not be surprised if I was the first white person to come to Sipahutar since the Dutch missionaries tamed the locals 150 years ago. Ok, sorry, maybe that was culturally insensitive, but first listen to the history. Just 150 years ago the Batak people were warring cannibal clans, who ate their enemies and ate their criminals. In fact, though they are now God-loving Christians, they are far from tame. The Batak have a reputation throughout Indonesia of being abrasive. As Norma puts it, "it's because we don't take sh%t from anyone." When Norma was younger she worked at a hotel in Sulawesi, and the hotel manager had to make a special exception to their "no hiring Batak" policy.

For three nights I slept on benches that didn't fit together well and weren't the same height. I was basically sleeping on boards, and I used my dirty laundry in a plastic bag as a pillow. After the first night, I had bruises on my hip bones. Making it even harder to sleep were the pigs f$%$%%g right outside. They really get into it. The male grunts and the female squeals. "Uhhgggggg, ughhhhgggg, uhgggggg, skreeeeeeeeeeiiik, shreeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiik." Well, I guess I asked for it when I told Lina that I can sleep anywhere. I also confirmed that yes, I can sleep anywhere.



There were many examples of the infamous Batak personality in my few days in Sipahutar. While we were having some delicious pork soup with huge chunks of pork fat and skin (sooo good!) at a local restaurant, a young teenager came up and starting recording me eating on his video camera. After a minute or two I became annoyed and took my video camera out and starting recording him back, but he didn't budge (see below video). Even the young kids aren't shy. After leaving the restaurant, a chorus of children chanted, in sync, "Bule! Bule!" Bule is the Indonesian word for white person. I have a feeling that it has a negative connotation, but its also the only word available.



Don't get me wrong, I was warmly received by most of the villagers, but the exceptions stand out. Sipahutar is apparently a relatively wealthy village because they grow pineapples. Quick question: Am I the only one that thought pineapples grew on trees?! They don't.. they grow off the ground on a small bush. Anyways, Lina wanted to get me some fresh pineapple so the next day Lina, Tia and I set out on a mission to find some. Near her house we passed a soccer field and someone in a group of guys from a different village was yelling at me "Come heree! Comme heree!" Now normally in that situation, its best to keep walking. But for some reason Lina said "He is interested to know you! Why don't you go talk to him!" Really? I guess, if you say so. Predictably, it would have been better to keep walking. I got the feeling they were mocking me in Batak language (dead giveaway: the loud guy says something and everyone else laughs hysterically). Translated by Lina, while he was biting the air: "Aren't you scared of Batak people? We eat people." No, not scared, unless you eat skin and bones. My suspicions of their less than friendly nature was confirmed when Tia said "I don't like these guys, let's go," looking very uncomfortable. They wanted me to referee their soccer game. Sorry guys, I don't speak your language, don't know the rules, and don't want to sit here for an hour. So they thought I was arrogant for refusing the honor. Lina said "If we don't give them what they want, they will bother us" also looking uncomfortable, but we eventually just walked off.

One of the guys was genuinely friendly and spoke good English, so the four of us jumped on two motorcycles and continued the mission to find pineapples. We drove around for a couple of hours and I got to see a lot of the surrounding area. We first went to the guy's family farm, but didn't find any ripe pineapples. The second farm was also a dud. The third and final farm we went to was Tia's aunt's farm. Her cousin disappeared into the field and came back with three small pineapples. It was, without exaggeration, the best pineapple I've ever eaten! Success! They also picked us some Tiu (undoubtedly spelled incorrectly), which I'd never had before but was also very good. Sumatra is full of delicious fruit that I never knew existed. Before we left, Tia's aunt grabbed a papaya from a tree and handed it to us to take home. By now it was getting dark, and on the ride home a motorcycle zipped by with no headlights. I was just thinking of how dangerous that was when I noticed that our motorcycle also had no headlights.



Until now I have been trying to explain my complicated religious viewpoint to Indonesians. Well, I guess it's not that complicated: One parent Jewish, one parent Christian, and I'm an agnostic with no religion. This does not make sense to Indonesians. In Indonesia, you are required by law to declare your religion, and you can choose from (according to Wikipedia) several options: Islam, Christianity, Protestantism, Roman Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism. I also tried to explain it to Lina, but being Indonesian she didn't really understand. So when a bunch of interested Batak people inquired about my religion she looked at me and I gave up; "just say Christian." Being a religious village, almost everyone in the entire village goes to church on Sunday, and it would be disrespectful as a guest not to also go. So.. I went to my second Batak church service last Sunday (the first being last Thursday's Batak wedding on Samosir). I actually learned something at church. I learned that 5 minutes is a very long period of time. This became apparent to me because I only checked my watch after a very long period of time had passed, and it always seemed to be exactly 5 minutes. Two hours and an eternity later, church was done!

Also speaking of religion, I should mention that while Lina was praying before meals I used the opportunity to hope that I didn't die of food poisoning from the meat that had obviously been sitting out all day. It worked! Food delicious, me alive. I experimented with pork, buffalo, and even fish, all sitting out all day, all amazing!

My last full day in the village was on Monday, and we went to the senior high school all day. Like in Java, instant celebrity status returned (I'm not gonna lie, I like it). We went into every senior and junior level class to talk to the kids. Basically, Lina and the headmaster both wanted me to tell the kids how important learning English is to their success. But.. I didn't feel comfortable coming to their country and telling them that my language is more important. However, after a couple of classes, I had the sales pitch down. The gist of it was: "In Indonesia, you have many different people and hundreds of languages, but you all can communicate using one common language: Indonesian. Similarly, English has become an international language, and with it you can communicate with people all over the world." Something like that..

Later that day we came back to the school to teach Lina's course. Part of how they teach the course is by playing English language songs and writing the lyrics on the board. They help the class translate, read along, and then sing along. By the sixth time through Celine Dion's "God Bless Us Everyone" Christmas song, I was convinced that I had actually died of food poisoning and gone to hell for saying I was Christian. Luckily, the sing along ended and I got to take over the class. First, I taught a little about the word "do," and then just opened up a question and answer session to help the kids practice their conversational skills. Aside from the standard questions (are you married? what is your religion? what is your girlfriends name? do you have facebook?), one kid asked "Where are your friends?" I'm alone. "You are not afraid of the Batak people?" Nope. "Mister, you are very brave. I would not travel to another village without my friends!" Even the Batak are afraid of the Batak. But my favorite question of the day was "Do you want to play football (soccer) with us?" So after class I played in a 5 on 5 soccer match with all of the boys.

This is random, but here is what a conversation with a Batak girl is like: "Mister, you're so handsome! You're sooo tall! And your nose is so pointy!" Yes, almost every Batak person mentioned that I have a very pointy nose. By now I am convinced that I could write a letter with it if I dipped it in ink. At first I was kind of annoyed, but then I realized that they actually think that having a pointy nose is a desirable attribute. Don't get me wrong, it's no where near as important as height. I am absolutely convinced that height is the number one physical attribute Indonesian women look for in men. But the Batak also have a strang fixation on noses. One church worker stood next to me for comparison and said (translated): "He may be taller, and his nose may be pointier, but I am more handsome. Look, I am dressed much nicer!"

Meet Lina, Tia, and Tyna, and delicious Misop (Padang food, not Batak food):



So after a few days, a great experience, and a very sore back, I set off to Bukit Tinggi where I am now. The bus left at 2PM and arrived here at 5AM this morning. I only slept for two hours, and my back is in even worse condition than before. I haven't showered in two days, I tragically dropped my soap into the toilet back in Dolok Sanggul, and all my clothes are dirty. After this, I will find a hotel with hot water and a laundry service and treat myself. I'm willing to pay up to $10 a night for luxury! But first I will tell you about another tragedy. Near the start of the bus ride, we came about another motorcycle accident. This is now the third motorcycle accident I've seen in Indonesia (I'm not counting Jarno's because I didn't see it). A mother with her two daughters (both looked between 8 and 10 years old) were standing next to a downed motorcycle. Of course none of them were wearing a helmet. The older of the girls had blood all over her face, and it was still gushing out. She was standing still, quiet, with a shocked look. The younger girl had dirt all over one side of her face from where she landed (it was a very rocky dirt road), but I didn't see any blood. She was walking around, crying loudly, yelling something unintelligible. The mother was standing, also shocked, with dirt all over her back and legs (the clothes protected her), and bleeding from her calf. Five men got off the bus to help them. Help consisted of picking up the motorcycle, getting them all on it, and watching them drive off. They will go home, not to a hospital, because a hospital will be too expensive. I didn't record this on my video camera, firstly because its not right, but also because I don't want to see it again. I hope the girl is alright.

It's been an eventful week.

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And since I didn't write enough yesterday, I've decided to give you an update! I got a hotel (cold shower) but I forgot to buy new soap! So I used a bar of Tide laundry detergent to clean my entire body and hair. You'll be glad to know that I didn't get a rash and I smelled amazing all day long! And tonight, instead of catching up on sleep - instead of sleeping - I will go for a 10-12 hour hike up Mt. Merapi, Sumatra's most active volcano. (Note that this is not the volcano of the same name that is actively erupting on Java).