Katrine's newsletter July/August 2008: Part 1 SLIDESHOW
Hello special friends and family: We have been on our travels again - this time not too far away.......read on:
TRAVELS IN INDONESIA PART ONE
1. Java and the Power of Love:
I heard from friends Gary and Libby off the boat Aquarius, that there were some really good offers on Malaysian Airlines for tickets to various Asian destinations and my ears pricked up. It doesn’t take much for my feet to itch and when I spied “Zero Ringitt” tickets on offer – how could I resist? With just airport taxes to pay, it was easy to convince Don too, that a birthday trip for my big Six Oh Dear might get him a few extra Brownie points. I really wanted to do something for the heart this year – and nothing could compare to being with my family. But with everyone spread far and wide – Sue in SA, Greg in Australia and Des in Canada, that wasn’t to be. There was one option: I could be with Kath because I know that she is everywhere. I thought about the hours we had spent together while on tour in our mini bus, bouncing over dusty roads, relaxing in bed and breakfast rooms – dreaming about the places we would travel to “when we were rich.” My fantasies took me to name places where sounds of magical words rolled off the tongue - Darjeeling in India, Mandalay in Burma, Shanghai in China (and Poffadder in S.A.? - got the tee shirt) Her dreams were always of the wild; sun-baked savannahs of the Serengeti, elephants and wildebeest in animal sanctuaries like Gorongosa or the rainforests of Borneo; and the Orangutans.
Des had packed her backpack and set off from London soon after Kathi died to follow the dream through Africa. She visited all those enigmatic places through North Africa - Kenya, Tanzania and travelling south the adventure finally led her to the love of her life, Steve, (who happens to have the same birth-date as Kathi)
Don and I had heard from other yachties of a trip into the jungles of Borneo to a sanctuary where rescued orangutans are rehabilitated to the wild. When my eyes hit on Jakarta in Indonesia as one of the free destinations on Air Malaysia’s website, my antennae honed in; I wanted desperately to be with the orangutans on my sixtieth birthday. Jakarta was perfect - it would be a good jump-off to Borneo. The ticket deemed that we had to fly to Jakarta on the 18th July, so we had a few days to spare before a further flight from there to Borneo and our arranged 4 day boat trip up the Seconyer River to the Tanjung Putting National Park and the Orangutan sanctuary.
Gary and Libby had booked to go on a walkabout to Java and comparing our dates we realized that we could be in close proximity to each other for some of their stay, so we made plans to meet in Yogyakarta (Jogja for short) and do a day trip to Borabodur together. Thereafter we would fly to Kalimantan and the jungle while they continued their tour of Java.
We whooshed in to Jakarta and whooshed out the next day, with just enough time in between to pay a visit to Sunda Kelapa – the old port with its many magnificent Macassar Schooners. The brightly painted sailing ships are still an important means of transport to and from the outer islands – mostly bringing in timber from Kalimantan (where we were heading) returning to the island loaded with cement. We wandered along the quay stretching our necks at the rigging high above and watched the local Indonesians (with their magnificent builds) loading these majestic ships in the scorching sun. From Jakarta we flew to Solo and then bussed to Yogyakarta to meet up with our friends. Travelling through the countryside to get to the city we found the most impressive thing to be the cleanliness of all the towns and cities in Indonesia – Malaysia has a lot to learn
Yogyakarta is a city of universities and academies and the intellectual and cultural centre of Java. Speaking to the many young people we came across; it clings proudly to its independence and traditions and is still headed by a sultan whose walled palace, or kraton, is the hub of traditional life.
Gary and Libby had been in Yogyakarta for a few days before we arrived, so they had sussed out all the good places to visit. They took us with them on their second visit to Ari, the wayang kulit (leather puppet) maker whose family has been in the employ of the sultan to make these shadow puppets for generations. To get there we had a choice of transport – either pedalled in a becak (cycle rickshaw) or to ride in an andong (horse drawn carriage). One look at the tiny Indonesians and the size of us decided us on an andong. We looked for the sturdiest horse, bargained for the best price and clip-clopped off down Marlioboro Street (named after the Duke of Marlborough) to the walled kraton in the centre of old Yoja. Ari explained in great detail the stories and philosophy behind the intricate workmanship in the shape and natural colours of the shadow puppets and explained that these wayang kulit have been a major means of preserving the Hindu-Buddhist heritage of Java. (Javanese culture is a product of pre-Hindu, Hindu and Islamic influences)
The following day we hired a car and driver to see one of the greatest Buddhist relics of South East Asia – Borobudur. The temple was built between 750 – 850 AD in the form of a huge symmetrical stupa wrapped around a hill that rises from the plains. It is estimated that about 60,000 cubic metres of stone was hewn to build this pyramid which represents the Buddhist vision of the cosmos in stone, starting in the every day world of desire and spiraling up to Nirvana – Buddhist heaven.
We stood looking up at the temple as Akip, the guide we had hired, explained the representation of each of the terraces. He told us of how Buddha would sit under the shade of a tree when teaching his followers - similar to the one we were shading under. A leaf came down and thwacked me on the back of the head, and when I picked it up it was the perfect shape of a stupa. Although Borobudur is impressive for the sheer bulk of the monument it is the close up sculptural detail with its richly decorated narrative panels of Buddhist and Javanese life 1,000 years ago that is so incredible. We walked clockwise as one should do around Buddhist monuments; six square terraces, topped by three circular ones, climbing the steps through finely carved gateways leading to the top. Reaching in through the latticed stupas to touch the Buddha image inside is supposed to bring you luck. I didn’t feel the need to do that because standing atop the monument and gazing across a plain of paddy fields and palm trees to the smoking volcano of Guning Merapi in the distance (there are 129 active volcanoes in Indonesia) I felt the awe of a presence and I knew it to be a taste of Nirvana.
Its such fun being with like-minded friends on holiday and our time spent with the Aquarians was special. Doing the touristy things tasting different food – most of which we could pass up a second time (chocolate and avocado milk shake? Although we rather fancied the Yogya speciality called Gudeg Ayam – chicken with jackfruit) and making lots of memories to share. It was going to be difficult to go our separate ways, but fortunately Gary and Libby are as spontaneous as we are… which has its down side too at times…so the parting was delayed. That night as we ploughed through several beers too many, they decided to track their way back to Java later in the course of their holiday, and accompany us on their third visit to Borneo and the orangutans. While Libby and I hunted for an internet to book air tickets and make arrangements for their trip up the river in Kumai with us, the boys got beyond themselves and in a fit of madness bought blow-pipes from a traveling salesman! (When I asked what the hell for, I was told that it was all for my benefit. Anchoring Katrine is the bane of my life with Don at the wheel and me at the bow. He inevitably ends up yelling to me – he reckons that a little arrow shot in my nether regions by using a blow-pipe to attract my attention would solve the problem.)
And so the birthday journey began.
We flew in to Pangkalang Bun in Kalimantan and were met at the airport by our tour operator, Herry, whom Gary knew well from previous visits. He sadly told us of the tragedy of having lost his 4 year old daughter, two of his sisters and a nephew in a bus accident a few months previously, and once again I was reminded of the fragility of life and to count my blessings. Understandably he wanted to stay with his family so we were introduced to our team: tour guide, Ancit, a young student, Putri, and the boat crew - captain, cook, deck-hand and chief bottle-washer. This was to be our accompaniment on the 4 day boat trip to one of the last orangutan refuges is the Tanjung Putting National Park which has a program to re-introduce captive orangutans back into the wild.
The wooden boat called a Klotok served as our transportation, accommodation and restaurant. During the day we sprawled out on the top deck as we puttered up the river watching for wild orangutans, birds, crocodiles and monkeys and at night we slept on deck on mattresses rolled out for us and covered by a mosquito net (although we always managed to get more mozzies inside the net than out.)
Leaving the quayside we fell almost immediately under the spell of the jungle-edged Seconyer River as the four of us settled down on the top deck.
Putri, with the shyness of a 17 year old school girl, came out to practice her sparse English on us. She told us that this trip was part of the practical curriculum that students in their final year at school had to do. We all chatted a while and then fell silent, caught up in the euphoria of where we were. Then Putri turned to me and said, “Mam, please may I sing to you?” I was quite taken aback. But of course she could. So with the gentle Klotok-Klotok of the engine, the sounds of the birds in the jungle and the swoosh of the river as we moved through the green canopy of rainforest, this shy young seventeen year old began her song. And the hair stood up on my arms and my throat closed. Because this is what she sang,
Mother, how are you today?
Here is a note from your daughter.
With me everything is ok.
Mother, how are you today?
Mother, don't worry, I'm fine.
I promised to see you this summer.
This time there is no delay.
Mother, how are you today?
There was a minute’s deep silence and then the dam burst. I probably scarred the poor child for life but the tears were of wonder. I knew that Kathi would be there – what more proof did I need?
The river turned from a deep clouded chocolate brown to a clear golden iced tea as we entered a narrow tributary and the jungle began to encroach even further.
At this width black tailed Macaque monkeys were now able to leap across the river while proboscis monkeys stared at us imperiously down their absurdly long noses. Also known as the Dutchman Monkeys after the colonialists, I read that their noses swell and turn red when they are angry or excited! I thought that so funny.
We watched a rare stork swoop across our path and vivid blue and orange kingfishers flashed across the river in front of us and then to our horror heard the sound of a chainsaw. Ancis told us of vast tracts of rainforest which continue to fall, of rivers that are being fouled and indigenous cultures (the Dyaks) that are reeling from the social and economic intrusion of the 21st century. It seems that deepest darkest Borneo is becoming increasingly remote. But for us, it was still overawing and before long we had spied our first wild orangutans. There was much, much more to come…….
