Trying journeys and Ramadan
Trip Start
Sep 06, 2006
1
10
42
Trip End
Ongoing
Bukittinggi,
Indonesia
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Monika and I bid Melaka goodbye on Friday and headed to Singapore to visit my friend Chris who had kindly extended an invitation to us to stay with him for the weekend. After impatiently waiting for the bus to arrive at the station, we were two of the several others travelling to Singapore. This proved a boon as an opportunity to lounge leisurely on public transport is always welcome
Bukittinggi shop
. The border crossing was a bit more tumultuous as after clearing Malaysian customs we were transported across the strait to Singapore. Once we stepped foot onto Singapore soil it became evident that we had left the Asia with which we had become familiar. A giant concrete, glass, and stainless steel building loomed before us. The sidewalks were immaculate and the immigration guards wore fresh perfectly pressed uniforms. The line to get our entry stamp was long, however, and we were heavily weighed down by our packs. I am still carrying gifts which I bought in the Cameron Highlands two weeks ago that I meant to send out. After waiting in heavy air conditioning we arrived at the customs officials desk. She was a young Asian woman with hair pinned back tightly with smart glasses resting on her nose. He face was pleasantly attractive with only minimal make up and trained alert eyes that glanced from behind the frames of her glasses. She asked us for our paperwork of which we had none since we had not been properly informed. She presented us with forms with an annoyed flick of her wrist and ushered us towards the end of her desk to fill it out. We quickly filled them out and received the necessary stamps for entry into Singapore.
Upon descending the stairs to try and locate our bus, we were none to surprised to find it absent. The bus driver had been curt with us at each stop and even threatened to leave me while I was searching desperately for a bathroom in Johor Bahru. It was just his natural inclination to leave us stranded far from the city center or an available MTR (metro) stop. We searched for a cab, but without Singapore dollars it was of no use. However, the driver was kind enough to offer to take us to the nearest ATM to replenish our monetary reserves
busy streets of Bukittingi during Hari Raya
. Finally on our way and delayed we headed towards Clarke Quay where my friend Chris lives. The Singapore skyline was a green panorama punctuated with high rises piercing through the greenery below. The highway was smooth and the drivers observed the traffic laws. The meter on the taxi was utilized and no bargaining was necessary. After 20 minutes of light traffic we arrived in the city center which was a well lit amalgam of modern design and functional living. Having been dropped off at a modern low rise complex across the street from Clarke Quay which was a bustling river stop of glitzy restaurants and well heeled Singaporians, I made a dash to get a gift for Chris. Having located a good Australian Shiraz, I then found a flower shop to help me wrap up the gift befitting a country like Singapore.
Chris welcomed us at his house warmly with Merlot. After chatting a bit and several glasses of wine later we headed to Little India to see the goings on for Diwali. The MTR station was close to his apartment so we decided to take it as I was excited to see its purported efficiency. The station was immaculate and the trains were quick to arrive. Rules were observed despite the fact that the card payment system tends to be a bit confusing. The streets of Little India were bursting with bodies all jostling for a good thali (small sampler of food on a banana leaf). Despite a lack of Diwali specific festivities we went to a busy restaurant where I further practiced my abilities eating with my fingers. It's not as easy at it appears as rice mixed with dhal can be quite unmanageable in untrained hands. However, I have been practicing whenever possible.
While in Little India Chris took us to a bar with live music in the backpacker area
Chinatown bak alleys in Singapore
. We had giant mugs of Hoegarten draught and were introduced to some of his friends mostly ex pats living in Singapore. Afterward we headed back to Clarke Quay to get a closer look at the trendy crowds out for the weekend while sipping local microbrewed beers. However, this did not last long as I was becoming tired and we called it a night.The next day Monika and I woke up to get in a good tour of the city. Chris stayed behind and we made our way about town stopping to munch on local and western delights. The day passed quickly as we hit Raffle City to see some colonial architecture before wandering around Chinatown. Then we headed to the Harbour Front to check out the scene there as well as test the possibility to taking a ferry to Indonesian Sumatra. After many phone calls and several consultation visits with ferry bureaus we opted to leave for Sumatra the next day.
The day was quickly coming to an end and we were still planning on cooking dinner for Chris in gratitude for his hospitality. After unsuccessfully attempting to locate a supermarket to purchase groceries we got in a cab in the hopes the driver could take us somewhere. He apparently misunderstood us and took us to a food court which was not exactly what we needed. Then after further hand gesturing and explaining he took us to the mega super market Carrefour. The store was enormous and we had to split us to find the necessary ingredients for our envisioned meal. Then we hoped in another cab and headed back to Chris's apartment.
Upon entering his apartment we were greeted by him and several of his friends. The dinner had turned into a communal Saturday party of communal eating and drinking
Chinatown in Singapore
. We alternated cooking in the kitchen creating a feast of Indian, Italian, Mexican, and French food that was filling and satisfying. The evening eventually turned into night with just four of us eventually greeting the morning. Monika and I had 7:50 AM ferry to Pulau Batam (closest port of entry for Indonesia) and had not even packed yet. It was going to be a sleepless night that would turn immediately to a hectic day of travel and negotiation.The departure from Singapore was smooth and simple, however, things got much more complicated after arriving in the frontier town island of Pulau Batam. Since it was the end of Ramadan, almost all ferries were booked up ahead of time and the atmosphere was tense with stranded passengers. After unsuccessfully trying to locate a ferry to Sumatra, crestfallen and exhausted we decided to head into town to find a hotel to rest.
The town was a filthy maze of construction, predatory touts, and spilling markets. As we made our way through the town, we became a spectacle for the locals. Whether they were surprised to see white tourists or white tourists travelling during Ramadan was unclear but from every direction I heard "mister" trying to get my attention. Children pointed and yelled out any readily available English word they knew which were mostly "hello" and "mister" while adults stared in curiosity. I even got several smiles and waves which put me at ease despite warnings from our taxi driver to be careful.
Having found a hotel in descent shape that even had a TV in the room we forked over our rupiah, got a bite to eat, and immediately went into a deep 14 hour long slumber
Chinatown in Singapore II
. We woke up the next morning at 3AM to try and get a ferry to Sumatra not taking any chances we having to spend another night on this island. At the port we secured passage to Pekanbaru and opted for a hot sweet coffee to celebrate our accomplishment. At the port stall cafe we ordered "kopi o" which is half coffee and half condensed milk. We sipped it down, and within minutes we were joined by a curious waiter. He sat with us for a while and offered me djarum cigarettes which I accepted. We discussed Indonesian politics, family, holidays, and terrorism within Indonesia. He was very friendly and forthcoming and we were just as curious about him as he was about us. Eventually we said our farewells and boarded our ferry.Without going into the detail about the journey from Pulau Batam to Bukittinggi through Pekanbaru I will say that it was a hellish experience. It included a bus with a flat tire, endless waits and stops, overpriced tickets, bone crunching discomfort, and a lot of sore joints. We even managed to board a local bus that literally chased down and ran off the road the bus we needed to take to Bukittinggi. We arrived at our destination 25 hours later at 3:30 AM to a shut down town. Some local teenagers helped us wake up the proprietor, but not before Monika forgot her backpack in a taxi. This trip had tried both Monika's and my resolve and potentially altered our karma permanently with the hardship that we experienced
Chinatown MTR subway stop in Singapore
. However, at no point could our short side trip to Indonesia be considered boring. Frustrating, aggravating, delightful, welcoming, shunning, trying, eye opening and miraculous might fit the experience best. It, however, has not been dull and we have been surprised at almost every turn whether good or bad.Happy Hari Raya!
Thanks for reading.
(Since I am using a dial up connection on a computer from the 1990s, I will have to download pictures at a later date.)
Comments
shit!
did monika get her backpack back???
your trip sounds nothing short of harrowing. i'm impressed that there were no tears.
delhi is hectic as well. if you can, i'd suggest skipping it. sitck to the countryside.
hey
this is edward. i'm sorry i missed you when you were in town. it was a hectic and bizarre time. i'm going to read your blog and see what you've been up to. be safe!