Sumatra

After a few months in the tropics, the cold nights and lack of humidity in mountainous Berastagi initially appeared to be a blessing, until it was time to take a shower - a giant cold bucket of water manually scooped onto your back with a smaller bucket. Making this painful experience worthwhile was a trip to Danau (Lake) Kawar and an overnight stay with a family in the lakeside village. Despite a nonexistence of English speakers, body language helped communicate the cost of my stay, resulting in a place to sleep on the floor for $1.50, one of the best meals I had in Indonesia for 70 cents, and a bonus of free games of badminton with the children of the village.

Lake Kawar lies in the shadow of Sinabung volcano, reached by a trail that climbs from agricultural farmland into dense jungle, where I managed to get stung twice by a giant wasp, and eventually emerging on the top of an active volcano. At the summit, sulfur escapes from every available crevice, mixing with the fog which blanketed the surrounding area..

On the way down, mother nature unleashed a furious rain and thunder storm which poured down relentlessly, turning the path into a muddy river. While splashing through the mud, I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see a giant T-Rex chasing me through the jungle. After a minivan ride back to Berastagi, soaked to the bone, I was confronted with a dilemma when I discovered that my guesthouse offered hot showers, (which I had not experienced for the previous 3 months), for the sum of 10,000 rupiah ($1). I am fully confident that what followed was the best spent dollar of my life.

Yet another minivan adventure brought me to Danau toba, a massive crater lake which was created by a series of volcanic explosions, the most recent being 74,000 years ago, in a blast that killed all but 10,000 humans on earth and affected the earths temperature for 1,000 years. The lake region is home to the Batak people, the vast majority of whom have been converted to Christianity, resulting in some interesting architecture and a church located about every 100 meters.

While touring the area by motorbike, a visit was paid to the Batak museum which featured the worst cultural performance I have ever witnessed. For 30 painful minutes, a group of "Batak" people shuffled around to a "traditional" drumbeat without an ounce of enthusiasm escaping from their faces. The performance ended in bizarre fashion with a strange puppet summoning members of the audience to donate extra money.

Not surprisingly, as soon as the performance ended, the entire cast rushed into one of the nearby traditional houses where they quickly emerged wearing their street clothes and checking their cell phones.

Accommodation at lake Toba is located on Samosir island,which is the size of Singapore, making it the biggest island inside of a lake in the world. After several days of relaxing by the lake, I felt the need to combat the atrophy in my legs and make a trek across the island. The midpoint of the 2 day trek was another lake - which is a lake (Sidihoni), inside of an island (Samosir), inside of a lake(Toba), inside of an island (Sumatra).

Upon leaving Lake Toba, it was a tortuous 17 hour bus journey south to Bukitinnggi, a ride that featured chain smoking ,monsoon rains and endless potholes. The lasting memory of this journey was the midnight stop at a roadside restaurant, in which my identity as the only non-sumatran in sight became a spectacle for all to see. My order of Nasi goreng (fried rice) was late to arrive, much to the delight of the gap toothed man sitting across from me. After making small talk with our respectively weak English and Bahasa Indonesia, we were able to communicate that I was from California and hungry. When my food finally arrived, my new friend erupted in laughter, shouting "Na-si go-rayng" and pointing at my dish. Back on the bus, he made sure to remind me with hourly updates; "huh huh - nasi goreng, ha." Maybe because it was such an unoriginal choice? Maybe he really enjoyed the combination of the words nasi and goreng? Maybe he was just good old fashioned crazy? I may never know for sure.

After surviving this journey, I was greeted by a worthy reward. One of the highlights of all of Southeast Asia was watching the nightly migration of flying foxes (large bats) through Sianok canyon at sunset, to the soundtrack of the call to prayer, emanating from various local mosques. As the day faded, the prayers seemed to call the bats (who are so large they visibly struggle to keep themselves airborne), out of their caves towards the sun, setting over a landscape blanketed with volcanoes.

Into the Wild

From the most developed, comfortable, and easiest country to travel in Southeast Asia (Malaysia), to...Sumatra. Where potholes outnumber tourists and the only certainties are power outages and rampant littering. In the end, the challenging moments were a small price to pay.
In one of the most dramatic changes of scenery that 1 hour can bring, I flew from kuala lumpur to Banda Aceh, the city on the northwest tip of Sumatra, and the place most devastated by the 2004 tsunami. In Banda Aceh alone over 60,000 people died. Nearly 5 years later they're still putting the pieces back together, and apparently they wont be finished anytime soon.

From Banda Aceh, I escaped to Pulau Weh, an island 2 hours off the coast which was somehow spared by the tsunami. I entered Pulau Weh with the intention of simultaneously overcoming several fears through the act of learning how to scubadive, in one of the best and cheapest places on earth to attempt such a quest. Even after having successfully completed this mission, the thought of breathing underwater is still deeply disturbing.

Over the course of three days, I was led in private instruction by Divemaster Udi, a native of pulau weh and someone who was laid back enough for me to feel comfortable entrusting my underwater life to. Within an hour of the first lesson I was in the ocean in full gear and on the verge of having a panic attack at the thought of being submerged under water with 30 pounds of equipment on my back. Confidence was quickly built, and by the end of the first day I was cruising around at 12 meters depth and exploring the underwater universe and all its glory. The course continued, culminating in the most challenging and nerve racking test - filling my mask with water at 18 meters depth and then successfully clearing the water, which took a few attempts but finally resulted in success and an open water diving certificate. While exploring the underwater world, I encountered a wide variety of sea life including the entire cast of Finding Nemo, the most memorable being a reef turtle that cruised around in my presence for a few minutes.
Other highlights included:

Blue spotted stingray

Eagle Ray

and...
(scorpion fish, star puffer, red firefish,Titan_Triggerfish, reef octopus, giant_moray_eel, honeycomb moray eel)

Besides unprecendented access to life in the ocean, the greatest lasting benefit of this endeavor appears to be the lesson of always remembering to breathe, wisdom that would prove invaluable on long distance Sumatran bus rides.

After 24 hours of backbreaking transit via the provincial capital of Medan, I arrived in Bukit Lawang, the main point of entry into Leuser National Park - one of two remaining places on earth to see orang utans (literally 'Jungle people' in Indonesian) in the wild. Following a local guide, who was in constant contact with other guides via text messaging in an effort to locate our furry cousins, we eventually found a mother with 2 children playing in the canopy, seemingly uninterested in their human observers. Because of this indifference, we were able to observe them for about 20 minutes, during which time, their resemblance to humans in appearance and behavior became increasingly clear.
By night, many local guides congregated in the restaurant of my guest house where they sang cover songs of la bamba, los gardenias para ti, and a catchy rendition of jingle bells: "jungle trek, jungle trek, in bukit lawang. See the monkey see the bird see orangatang, hey!" On the final night in Bukit Lawang, there was a wedding taking place, which had been making its presence known all day with high volume dance music emanating throughout the town. I managed to catch the party as it was winding down around midnight, in a strange display that would give me a distorted lasting memory of this place. On a makeshift stage, a trio of local girls who appeared to be auditioning for the role of a cracked out wonder woman (i.e. granny panties worn on the outside of fishnet stalkings), engaged in overtly sexual dancing and hip gyrations as elderly muslim women sat in the audience seemingly oblivious to the heathenous behavior taking place on stage. Definitely one of the most bizarre memories of Sumatra.

The ride back to Medan was Sumatran transport at its finest. A minivan decked out in bright colors and a booming sound system, innocently left the bus station with a few empty seats to spare. It became painfully clear that this freedom wasn't going to last as we cruised dangerously slow through the town looking for passengers to add to the human omelet to be. By mid journey, there were 19 people in the 9 seat van, and I found myself wedged into the midsection of an elderly Muslim woman who looked equally frustrated about the lack of personal space.

After a brief stop in Medan, another minivan was boarded for the mountain town of Berastagi, the beginning of volcanoland.