My flight to Medan in Sumatra was delayed for two hours in Penang and so I had to spend time loitering around till the take off. While sitting in a massage chair bedisde a Chinese gentle man i got to learn a little about life in Medan and what to expect from a Chinese business man's point of view. I might have given him the impression that I was on my way to have a wild time in medan as he told me all the good spots and how the girls are young and beautiful, readily available and not too expensive. I felt a little offended by this revelations but I thanked him for his friendliness and the good conversation we had about both the countires of Indonesia as compared to Malaysia. Here in Malaysia life is like eating a piece of cake where everyone has their hands on it. He was implying of the corruptions found here especially in the government. Medan is alive he said eventhough not as attractive as Penang in its infrastructure, the city of Medan is is bustling with all kinds of business activities.
This I found to be true when I set my foot on the Indonensian soil for the first time in my life, this is where my mother was born and her mother before that. My accounter with the gate keepers was not too traumatic as the Immgration and customs officers were quite normal in getting me to pass through the entrance into the city and the country. My first Indon encounter was with a potter who insist on getting my luggage for me and not taking no for an answer. My worry was that i had no small change on me and had no idead what to tip him and there was no need for his services as I only had one luggage but this is what happens when you travel.An army officer was suddenly by my side in his most polite and smiling manner enquiring my destination and if this was my first. I slipped away by telling him that I have a friend waiting outside and did not see any problem so far.
The porter's tip problem was solved when my friend and host was there standing at the entrance with a placard bearing my name on it. One look at him all my worries about travelling in the country dissolved. His name is Ribut and in English it means 'Storm' he has the look and size to fit his name. He handed a change to the porter snapping at the guy in Indonesian which made the porter recoiled in fear and healthy respect. As we walked away from the airport I felt the nostalgia of being on the road again perhaps for the last time in my life and only this time I am on the road with a heavy heart thinking of my wife and children. I decided to drop my psychological and emotinal baggage at the airport and look forward to an adventure of a lifetime ahead of me.
Our mode of transportation out of the city to Ribut's home was a Vespa and I sat pillion riding through the city hanging on to my nerves as the traffic around me whizzed by close enought to take off my skin. Ribut despite his size and the huge luggage stuck between his legs managed to weave his way through with no problem and finally after some rough bumpy rides avoiding potholes and speed bumps we arrived at his house snugged at the end of a narrow lane away from the main road. The house has yet to be completed as the brick walls are still waiting for the final plaster and the bathroom needed a proper door.
Upon arrival I was introduced to his mother who in the beginning looked at me with a disdain look that made me feel a little uncomfortable but later we got to know each other and she became more hospitable and filled my time at the house with all the informations and advice for one like me about life.I also got to meet Ribut's three children the eldest a teenager just finishing secondary education and waiting for her exam's results while the younger two were a boy and a girl. They were warm and friendly although they did not know what to make of me staying with them. However by the after noon we were well acquainted and were swapping jokes left and right.
Ribut and I took a ride back into town to exchange some currencies from Malaysian Ringgit to Indonesian Rupiahs and to meet a friend of his who could help us with my plans to travel the country.The friend's name was Selamet which in English simply means 'Peace'which mad me laugh inside as I felt the dichotomy of the two individuals who will be my guides for my travels in Sumatra. Selamat drives tourist around as a career and from his past experiences as a truck driver and also an express bus driver he was about the most perfect man for anyone who wishes to take the roads less traveled through the Barissan Mountain ranges of Northwestern Sumatra. He speaks just about every dielect of the region's indegenous people and knows each region and its population's cultural as well as religious nature. He is also a good communicater as just about everyone we met and talked to opened up to him and through him I got to understand alot of the historical and cultural backgrounds of the places and people we met up with.
1 - 6 - 05
After understanding my intentions and agreeing upon the cost of the trip we set out of medan the next day and headed for a place about an hour's drive from the city called Bukit Lawang. As we arrived at the scenic site of fast flowing river and mountians in the back ground I noticed that most of the buildings close to the river were mostly wrecked and later learned of the tragedy that ook place late last year during the fasting month of Ramadan. The tragedy occured around about eleven at night just after the 'Tarawikh' prayer at the mosques just as everyone had returned to their homes there was a tremendous loud roar from the river and a wall of water came crashing down the river causing devastation along the river banks that claimed 190 human lives. The flash flood which took place in total darkness as the electric supply was wiped out was a horror to the witnesses I later talked to. One man who I thought was a drug addict by his appearence and manners had lost all his brothers and sisters including his parents who used to live in one of the makeshift hut built on the river bank. Where was he I asked and he told me that he was working at the water tank further up the hillside behind the shallet buildings and all he could remember was hearing a loud roar and thought that thend of the world was unfolding below him.
From the water marks left by the flash flood left on the shallet buildings it looked like the whole area along the river was buried under water loaded with uprooted trees and rocks that wased up right to the parking lot area about 500 yards away from the river bank.A small 'surau' or mosque was spared eventhough it sits right on the river bank on the opposite side from the shallets. Yes Allah's little home was spared while the rest of the shallets and restuarants built on and along the river dissappeared in one clean sweep. Also wiped out were four villages along and further down the river killing most of its inhabitants in the darkness of the night not knowing what hit them.
As I took a hike the nex day along the river I saw what might have been the cause of the flash flood as part of a hill was exposed caused by a landslide. Perhaps this landslide had caused a temporary damming of the river and later with the water rising the dam broke loose releasing a great amount of water rushing through the whole area. It was very fortunate that an orangutan reservation located up the river was spared from the devastation. This area is frequented by wild orangutans which comes out of the forest every so often to feed or be cared for when in times of delivery of the young.During my walk with Ribut and a guide these friendly creatures often came out to greet us and then dissappear again into the forest. They are not aggressive but caution is prudent in their presence.
No comments:
Post a Comment