Friday, April 4, 2014

Day 8-9: From Flores To Bali

As we approached the plane on foot at Maumere's tiny airport, I turned to Pak Kam with a grin and said, "Saya bawa alpukat, Pak, lima buah!" (I brought avocados, sir, five of them!) On the road back from Laratuka, I had made Pak Mat stop by a small market so I could buy some avocados for Bali. They were 10,000 Rp for five, that is, a little less than a dollar.

He laughed and replied, "Saya juga! Tas ini, isinya alpukat! Berat, soalnya..." (Me too! This bag here is filled with avocado. Problem is, it's heavy...)  I took a look at his backpack. It could easily be carrying about 20 pieces of fruit. "Bagus, bagus!"(Good, good!) I said, laughing also.

We'd just spent the last hour in the airport talking in depth about the sanitation program in Flores. Guy knows his stuff, and has a particular interest in ensuring that local people have the means to achieve their needs after the program is over. "If the workshop gets at least 50% of these tukang to begin making and selling toilets locally, we'll consider it a success."

Out of all the bapak-bapak I met this past week, Pak Kam is one of my favorites. He's about 70 years old, wears a kopiah wherever he goes, and smiles with laughter and wrinkles in his eyes.

* * *

And then I'm in Bali, riding in the back bed of a pickup truck with my friend Toku, watching an eve-of-Nyepi procession pass by on a narrow road. There are old and young walking together, crowding the area for several hundred meters. Some people are singing and cheering, carrying banners for their community, and others are waving batons of fire. Each group lifts a bamboo platform with an ogoh-ogoh statue in the center, representing a unique evil spirit. The fanciest and most expensive are decorated with lights and jewels, symbolizing their hedonistic personalities. 

The community will soon destroy these figures by dismemberment or by setting them on fire. Because of this, there's excitement in the air. The children are happy, and the adults are likely drunk. It's a parade, except this is unlike any parade I've ever been to. Eve-of-Nyepi is an island-wide party -- the storm before a full day of quiet reflection. On the day of Nyepi, food, fire, work, and electricity are all forbidden. The streets will be empty in a few hours.

When we finally pass the crowded streets, everything becomes dark except for the cars and motorbikes. Our truck's headlights illuminate the windy road and the jungle we are passing through. The crisp mountain air takes over my senses. Ari slows down a bit, allowing other vehicles to pass so that Toku and I can soak it in. We stand there, holding on to the roof of the truck as the trees whip by on the narrow road. I tilt my head back and look up. Above us, the stars are vibrant.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Na! Your blog/writing makes it so real, makes it seem that I am with you in your trip, seeing and appreciating all the ones you described/narrated.

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