Home for two months - felt like 'forever' - it was so darn cold. Well, 'cold' for Perth: it actually got down to a minimum of 0C. When you're used to living in the tropics, that's a bit nippy! Also, the daily minimum was at the time I set off on my morning walk in the dark (regardless of the weather) at around 05.45 every day. After building up the distance, I was averaging at least 60km every week (that's around 85,000 steps). The week before I headed back to the airport was 76.14km - 47.4 miles - (104,260 steps) according to my Fitbit.
My washing machine decided that it could run just fine without water and the freezer section in my refrigerator ceased to, well....freeze. Tweaked the washing machine, but had to buy a new refrigerator. Had another burst of dental work, including a crown. Now have three gold crowns, apparently 'gold' is the cheapest, most durable option. Told my daughter that when I croak to act like she is a commandant at Auschwitz, do some extractions and make herself a new ring, or something. She already reckons that she's foraging for my metal heart valve to use for an earring.
So - Up before dawn in the cold to head to the airport for the first of two flights: Perth -Singapore-Jakarta, and then, two nights later: anotherlight to Yogyakarta.
Indonesia has a population of 261 million, who speak over 700 different languages; the country extends over an amazing 17,000 islands and is the world's most populous Muslim majority, with 87% of the population being Muslim.
The reason for going to Jakarta was to partake in a pre-assignment briefing at the Australian Embassy. This next assignment, I would be working with another volunteer (Liane) who has also done several previous assignments. We met up with a few others who were there for longer (12 month) assignments, one guy had committed to training locals and building teams to play Australian Rules football - he was with his wife and two teenage boys (quite a year-long family commitment).
And so, onto 'Joga' (as the locals call the town). We were shown to our abode (which was to ultimately be the new company office), in a local village, at the end of a road, with extensive rice paddy fields on two sides. The owner still lived at the back of the complex which was over 100 years old (he was born there). The surrounding locals were currently in the throes of preparing the rice paddies and hand-planting out the rice in neat rows.
We were self-catering and, at times, cooking for other staff (well: Liane was, primarily). Early on, our host who had started and was running the business (a live-wire local lass), made some tea for us with a local flower (called the Clitoria Ternatea - which gives a hint as to the shape of the flower) that produced a pretty aqua-coloured concoction; but, when lime juice was squeezed into the tea: it morphed into a mauve colour!
One the second week: we travelled to the office in Magatan, and met more of the wonderful staff, and the owner's parents. Once we got out of the huge town area, it was an amazing drive through steep roads into a picturesque mountainous area among field after field of vegetables, much of them terraced into the steep hillsides. It takes a LOT of produce to feed 260 million people. The trip took about five hours; after an overnight, the return next day was by train, and that took just two hours. It was interesting getting off the train and into the station - there was another train on a track between our platform and the main station: so everyone filed THOUGH the, luckily stationery, train!
On a Saturday, we were taken to witness production of coconut sugar. A guy literally shot straight up a coconut tree (no harness) and into the fronds, cut the top off a new flower and fitted a bamboo cup over the cut; they can do this twice a day. They collect the cups of sap, and boil it in a wok for a few hours so it reduces considerably. Then, as it starts to congeal, they take it off the heat and ladle the glutinous brown syrup result into half coconut shells to cool off and dry in 'cakes'. The result is then pounded and broken down to about the same consistency of caster sugar - but brown and much healthier....and it's absolutely delicious! Our client was having a problem with some suppliers who were adding cheaper caster sugar to the coconut sugar - so reducing the quality and negating the 'organic' status.
Being a predominant Muslim country, there's the regular 'call to prayer' (or 'yodelling' as I came to call it). I'm not too sure why it's amplified, but the result can become all-pervading when many surrounding mosques join in a general cacophony of all-encompassing 360° yodelling voices. Unfortunately, some had no musical talent at all and emitted little more than an amplified discordant noise. The call began with a solo effort around 4am every morning, then others would join in, displaying varying degrees of tuneful ability. The racket would go on until around 4.30am, then the roosters (who seem to wait patiently until the silence) would take over. Then there was another public holiday for 'slaughter day' when communities slaughtered animals (pretty much anything except a pig, I gather; but usually cattle) and the meat was traditionally then distributed to the poor and needy. On THAT day the yodelling went ALL night, without a break.
Then, there's another quirk that some may find confusing: there is a green arrow on the ceilings of hotel rooms, usually at an odd angle. It's called a qibla (or qiblat) and it is there to indicate the direction of Mecca because Muslims need to know which way to face when they pray.
We were then taken on two flights each way, requiring arising at 03.30, to West Timor to meet some farmers and to assist with restructuring the local enterprise. The operation had been taken over by the local priest who probably meant well, but was arbitrarily making decisions detrimental to the owner. The original option was to 'sack' him and say he was not to be involved at all; but Liane had a great idea: to form a board of directors, make him the chairman, and 'promote' him away from daily management decisions.
When we were working on documents for the staff to use in the future, my computer came in very handy as I can press a button, slide out the CD drive and replace it with a projector. We were projecting forms onto the office wall and at meetings in hotel rooms while travelling. We could have a form featuring questions, remove the answers; project the result onto a whiteboard and staff could enter the answers in the blank spaces.
Timor is one of the poorer regions in Indonesia and the over five hour drive, through the small capital of Kupang, and then the countryside highlighted the poorer soil, and lack of rain (it was a few months away from their short 'wet' season), river beds were basically dry, with just a trickle here and there. Villagers were walking long distances just to get some water.
A very basic difference in Timor to the rest of Indonesia is religion, with some 90% being Christian (about 40% Catholic), rather than Muslim. So, there was a respite from the pre-dawn yodelling. For the few days we were there, we were socialising with the Catholic Father responsible for the entire region and the military commander (who still wanted photocopies of our passport details for us to be in his jurisdiction). The commander would sit in the hotel restaurant, legs akimbo, where were having breakfast, and demand that the staff bring him a cup of coffee.
With the change from Muslim to Christian - alcohol was more available and we partook of the local beverage called sopi made from sugar palm sap. The production of this concoction is basically illegal, with alcohol content ranging up to 70% and some unscrupulous brewers adding a dollop of danger by adding Methanol to the mix. It sure packs a punch - even taking tiny sips!
On the drive in to the meeting place through hilly country and narrow, twisting, turning roads, we rounded a corner: and there was a guy sitting on the white line in the middle of the road. He just looked at us as we zipped past. On the return journey, four days later: there is was again, in the same spot. He was probably a 'few sheep short in the top paddock' and was (perhaps) attempting suicide.....or just did not care!
Timor has had a troubled history - it is where Captain Bligh landed after being set adrift by the Mutiny on the Bounty crew. The island was occupied by the Dutch and the Portuguese (who arbitrarily divided the island between them in 1859). Then it was occupied by the Japanese from 1942-1945. When the Portuguese withdrew in 1974, Indonesia took over the entire island. East Timor fought a guerrilla war for independence, which they won (by a referendum) in 1999. West Timor is still Indonesian.
We took to wandering around 'our' village in the early mornings and received lots of smiles and the occasional 'hello' or 'good morning' in English. Liane had a few words of Bahasa Indonesia, which elicited more smiles. We passed a local school and I had the kids all lining up to give me a slap 'hi-five'. One morning we saw a guy herding his flock of ducks along the road back to his home and, over a few mornings, we tracked him back to where they had been. They took the ducks out of the pen at home, along the roads and let them loose into the rice paddy fields were they had a great time feeding. Then the young guy who was looking after them whistled and got them obediently together, out of the paddy field, up onto the road, then they happily waddled home.
One day, we went to a former cigarette manufacturing enterprise which was now an interesting museum. The 'highlight' for me was an old Heidelberg letterpress printing machine - just like the one I used to operate in my father's printing business in the early 1960s.
With 10,000 Rupiah equal to one dollar, one is quickly talking in millions. Liane did some amazing bargaining: she wanted to buy some thongs (that's 'flip flops' to some of you) from a street seller and he wanted 70,000, she got them for 10,000 (that's $1), then she wanted to buy one of those conical (or is that 'comical'?) straw hats like the farmers also wear in Vietnam. The seller wanted 150,000 - she got him down to 25,000!
We were kindly taken to two amazing temples, the first was the amazing Prambanan. A 9th century Hindu temple rediscovered by Thomas Raffles in 1811. It had been abandoned in the 930s and had suffered from several earthquakes, including a major one in 2006; extensive repair and reconstruction continues. There were originally 240 temples, only 8 remain. The structures are adorned with wonderfully intricate carvings which tell folk stories.
We then visited Borobudur. An remarkable Buddhist temple, the world's largest, also from the 9th century and (probably) abandoned in the 14th century. It lay hidden under layers of volcanic ash and jungle for centuries. Approximately 55,000 cubic metres of stones were taken from neighbouring stone quarries to build the monument. The stone was cut to size, transported to the site and laid without mortar. Knobs, indentations and dovetails were used to form joints between stones. Like the other site: it is covered with carved reliefs in the stonework, which were created in situ after the building had been completed. There is also evidence of a drainage system with heads carved in the stone forming water spouts from the several floors of the structure. Obviously: there were many more structures as there are huge areas of carved stones in heaps looking like a masses of logo blocks, or a massive jigsaw. Have a look at the photos - truly amazing places, reminiscent of Angkor Wat and other amazing structures. It's just remarkable to think about what they built and WHEN they built!
A quirky aspect as a foreigner in the more remote areas of Indonesia is that local people come up to you and ask you to pose with their family/friends for a photograph. Wandering the temples, we were often asked for "a selfie" with various local people, frequently groups of giggling teenage schoolgirls. Many children at the temples were wandering with 'selfie sticks' - mimicking narwhales.
The food in Indonesia tickles your taste buds. One day we went to a massive restaurant that served only mushrooms. They had a display of the large range of mushrooms that they used; which were then served as: chilli, or satays, or sweet-and-sour, or curry, or whatever. Sometimes it was difficult to be aware that you were eating mushrooms! Interestingly, when eating with the staff: most of them ignored cutlery and just used their fingers - right hand, of course.
The home we were staying in was part of a family complex, with an unlocked door between us and the adjoining abode behind. What seemed incongruous to me was that the other home had a clock which executed the Westminster chime every quarter hour - all day and night. So: I'd be lying in bed counting chimes at 3am (or whatever).
Photos on.....https://goo.gl/photos/phCX6t3aQ7pajJwE7