Photos: Diving Bunaken Island

We ended up making a total of six dives in Manado, including the two that I talked about yesterday, a wreck dive, a dive into a cave, and two others around the coral near our island during which we got to try a bit of underwater photography.  Shots were really difficult to get between the water moving me around and the lack of light, but I included a few at the end of the post (some that I took, and some that I stole from a friend :)). This is a hobby that I would love to pursue! It was fun to get out of the water and look back at the animals we had seen, figuring out what they were with the help of our guides.

Touring the underwater shipwreck fulfilled a life-long dream!  We started out on this trek our second day, boating about 30 minutes out to a ship that cannot be found in any records, but is thought to be a Japanese fishing boat from the WWII era.  We were able to swim through the different compartments of the ship, inspect the propeller, and admire the multi-colored coral and countless fish that had made it their home.The whole thing felt like a movie set, with the murky water dispersing the light and giving things and eery glow.  You can check out pictures of our wreck dive at my colleague’s blog, she got some really neat shots!

Jimi, our wonderful SCUBA guide

Pufferfish

Porcupine Fish

Photo credit: Grace

We did some snorkeling, too … and I look like the little mermaid?

Photo credit: Grace

Photo credit: Grace

Photo credit: Grace

Trumpet Fish

Nudibranches (they’re like snails, but without shells)

Lion Fish

Entering the cave on one of our dives

Scorpion fish… can you find him?

Diving Bunaken Island

As I mentioned in my first post about Bunaken Island, it has some of the best diving available.  The whole island is surrounded by a coral reef, dropping off into a beautiful wall filled with diverse under-water life.

We stayed at and dove through Cicak Senang, and were giving a bungalow with a beautiful view of the beach.  It was a bare minimum kind of arrangement, with no internet or wifi.  Although I would not recommend staying there if you are a 5-star hotel kind of vacationer, I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who does not highly prioritize posh accommodations.  The owner was so friendly, always willing to help us with whatever crazy thing we could think of requesting.  All of the food was included (I’m telling you, rural island.  This means zero restaurants.), and they had the most amazing staff.  Jimmy and Ratno were fantastic SCUBA guides, and Nicolas a wonderful boat driver!

Ferdinand, a kind and experienced Dutchman with fantastic English, was our instructor.  I would encourage you to dive with him; you can find his website here.

On the first dive, we explored Likuan 1, which my new friend Frans, from yesterday, told me was his favorite.  We worked our way across endless, colorful reef, swimming in water clear enough that we could see 40 or 50 meters down!  This was our deep dive, so we swam down to about 40 meters, looked around there, then made the most of our allotted oxygen by continuing at a shallower depth.  I had never been so far below the surface of the ocean before, and found the view up breath-taking.  I watched schools of fish pass by at different depths, random large fish weaving in and out between them, and the sunlight streaming down and highlighting it all.  Rolling over, I looked down on sea turtles, crocodile fish, and even sharks!

Our second dive, in the same day, was a night dive.  We waited until the sun had set, then took the boat to Johnson’s place, a location near the place we were staying.  Night diving is an entirely different experience, as you can only see that which is located within beam of your torch.  I liked this for several reasons.  First of all, the way that sunlight filters through the water makes things at deeper levels seem less colorful.  The flashlights do not have to filter through so many meters of water, so this way of viewing the life restores its vibrant coloring.  The focused view also aided me in seeing things I wouldn’t have seen otherwise, and realizing the depth of the coral itself.  Finally, you see different kinds of life on these dives; specifically, we came across fewer fish and greater amounts of “bottom dwellers.”  Throughout the dive we saw sea cucumbers, lobsters, shrimp, crabs, snails, lion fish, stingrays, and even sea horses!

As we were figuring out diving in the area, we didn’t bring cameras on the first few dives.  The next post will have pictures! 🙂  Here are a few shots of Bunaken, though!

Bunaken Island: Partying with the Natives

Bunaken Island is world-famous for SCUBA diving, and can be found towards the top of many “best of” lists.  Excited to use our new Open Water Certificates and train for Advanced Certification, we boated across from Manado for five days of our vacation.  Our hotel owner explained that this is a new harbor, hoping to improve the tourism here.  Unfortunately, they forgot to provide a way to get on and off of boats, leaving guests to invade the boats of others in an attempt to get to their own.  Thankfully, this is considered acceptable.

We were excited to ride a bigger boat this time after almost tipping over on our last vacation.  Until we realized that the tiny boat on the right was ours.

There gas tank was … innovative, to say the least.

Upon our arrival, we realized that we had entered a relatively uninhabited island. Three small villages housed 4,000 natives, and there were maybe four centers that offer bungalows and diving instruction.  Other than that, we were alone on the island.

We went exploring our first afternoon, talking about the location as a perfect scene for a real-life Lord of the Flies or a horror film.

Before we even arrived at the edge of the first small village, we could hear it.  Pop music was blasting, the bass turned all the way up.  As we walked down the path, we saw two children driving a motorbike toward one of the huts, most of which had mud and stone walls topped with tin roofs.

We headed over to a few women sitting out front, inquiring as to whether they would allow us to rent their bikes for the afternoon.  They responded in the affirmative, leading us back into the heart of the village (village is a generous term, referring to about five or six huts).

As we headed back, they excitedly told us “Party! Party!”  It was clear that we would be their boasted guests of honor.  Reaching our destination, we saw about seven or eight men sitting in a circle.  Some drank, some danced in the middle, and all smoked.  Behind them was an enormous pile of speakers, all blasting out the music that one would find in a club.

They quickly pulled up chairs for us, and offered us cokes and other mystery drinks (judging from the hosts’ demeanor, the latter were highly alcoholic).  Mind you, this is around noon.  As I made my way across the circle, one man started trying to dance with me.  They kept this up throughout the shouted dealings for the motorbikes and until we headed back down the path.

In the end, we had two motorbikes to drive and one that I could ride on, complete with a (tiny) 13-year-old driver.  We drove across the island in about 15 minutes, looked at the church and the village, and then headed back.  There is one “road” that we rode on, or alongside at times.  The island is absolutely gorgeous, and I enjoyed both the dense forest and beautiful beaches.  The whole island is considered a national park, and has the views to earn the title.  We ended up stopping to check out another dive center, and my chauffeur headed on his way.

This left us with one too many passengers, so I waited at Two Fish while the others headed back to our bungalows.  While I awaited my friend’s return trip to evacuate me, I made friends with two native of Bunaken, Frans and Jon.

We spoke in very broken English and Bahasa over my shared snack of dried mango.  They taught me words, I taught them words, and we actually had a quite enjoyable time conversing.  I was amazed at how much we could communicate with our limited language!  I was also touched by the fact that they sat and talked with me, having offered me a seat as well, for a good half an hour while I waited for my friends.  Struggling to converse across a language barrier can be hard work, and I know from experience that it is often easier to simply avoid the situation!

I have loved having the opportunity to meet many different kinds of people with such varied backgrounds throughout my living and traveling in Indonesia.  While we all have something or another in common, each person has their own new perspective on life, which makes it all the richer.

Manado: The City of 1,000 Churches

Manado is known for two things: crazy food, which I discussed in my previous post, and being heavily Christian.  This is particularly unusual because Indonesia has the largest Muslim population of any country in the world.

Manado is nicknamed “the city of 1,000 churches”, but I had doubted the literal truth of this name based on the overall population of the country I am currently inhabiting.  Upon arriving, though, I realized that it is quite accurate.

Due to German missionaries centuries ago, it is indeed a Christian city.  Churches towered over the streets, consuming most corners.  On Sunday there was church traffic, in the morning no Islamic call to prayer. Women’s heads were uncovered, the grocery store had a pork section.

Our friend, who lived in Manado, explained that the current events are often opposite those in Jakarta.  This is one of the few places in the world where Muslims and Christians not only coexist, but actually get along.  While there have been recent attacks on the US embassy in Jakarta, Manado has been totally untouched, entirely safe.  It’s a nice taste of familiarity!

Our tour of the city included walking through a Via Dolorosa, a trail depicting the story of Jesus.

There was a beautiful view of the city, and the air was fresh – a real treat when you live in Jakarta! (:

We also stopped at a huge statue of Jesus looking out over the city, ranking as second largest in the world after the piece in Rio.  Kind of ironic that it is found in the world’s most Muslim country.  At both places, we were bombarded for pictures with Indonesians excited to boast of their encounters with bules.  I had a lady ask me to step aside for a picture, and thought she was trying to photograph the Jesus monument.  Turns out she just wanted a picture with me.

A wonderful SPH family, originally from Manado and also vacationing there, showed us around the city for a night.  They have two daughters, ages 8 and 9, that provided a constant source of entertainment! I especially enjoy the unfiltered thoughts of children.

One of the more interesting themes of the night was listening to them sort out the attention that we received for being white.  Several times they mentioned how many people were staring at us, or asked if we felt like celebrities.  At one point they started giggling about the traffic jam that our presence was causing, as cars slowed down to gawk at the bule.  While I have grown accustomed to this (usually), it was amusing to hear their thoughts!

Manado: A Culinary Adventure

For our second break from school, we headed to Manado, which is a city on the northern tip of Sulawesi, an Indonesian island nearing the Philippines.

The Manadonese are among the most hospitable people that I have ever encountered.  Specifically, they care for you with food.

Upon our arrival to Manado, Joel picked us up.  Joel is the son of the family that we are staying with, and he is a distant relative of Grace’s.  We started to talk about the city, and he soon informed us that, “Here in Manado, you can eat Scooby-Doo, Batman, and Tom and Jerry.”

Translation:  we would have the opportunity to consume delicacies such as dog, bat, and rat. 

Not willing to turn down such a challenge, we headed out in search of these new dishes.  We stopped for dinner on the way home from the airport, and eagerly ordered pork, which is very difficult to come by in Jakarta, due to the largely Muslim population.  After a bit of consideration, we also decided to conquer the first item on our new edible bucket-lists: dog.

I’m going to be straight with you:  it’s not that good, but it’s not that bad.  I didn’t like it enough to continue eating after my mandatory first bite, but it wasn’t anything gag-worthy.  It was a bit mushy and quite spicy (par for the course in Manado), but not awful.  I can’t tell you what it tasted like, because “spicy” was about all I got.  I do, however, think that this is intentional:  I’ve heard it tastes like dog food smells.

After a good night of sleep, we headed out for our first full day in the city.  Though we visited a few sights, we quickly learned that tourism in Manado centers largely around food.  Thanks to the wonderful natives of the area hosting us, we simply followed blindly as they led us from one place to the next, eating what they set before us.  We started of with a 12 o’clock brunch, during which we sampled the traditional Manado porridge and fried banana (pisang goreng).

Around 3:00, we stopped for lunch #2, a restaurant on a mountain with a beautiful view of the city, the ocean, and Bunaken island, where we were headed the next day.

We only had a day and a half in Manado, so the mandatory “have you ever eaten…” items needed to be checked off in rapid succession.  Item of choice #2: bat.

Now, having eaten “Scooby” the night before and not thinking him half bad, I was optimistic about “Batman.”

Unwise.

The bat came out in a bowl, broken wings sticking about with bones protruding from them.  The rubbery wings were still half-stretched across, looking less-than-promising on the taste scale.  Unfortunately, this was something that I had said I was going to do, and pride would not let me back down.  I struggled to tear off a rubbery piece of the wing, and choked it down.  It was awful!  If you have ever worked out with elastic bands, you can easily relate to the texture that I was trying to chew.

A wonderful SPH family, originally from Manado, picked us up directly from the restaurant to take us to dinner.  We drove for a bit, arriving in a beautiful rice field with mountains rising up as its backdrop, the sun just starting to set behind them.

It was about 5:00 by this point, and heaping plates of roasted corn (my favorite!) and the most enormous shrimp I have ever laid eyes on were set on the table.  Digging in, we enjoyed the delicious food, the sunset, and the time with this wonderful family.

As we left this restaurant, it was explained to us that the corn and shrimp were simply a snack on the way to dinner!  Laughing, we began to realize the truth in what we had been told about the Manadonese love for food.

Turns out, the final restaurant of the night was the nicest one in Manado, right on the ocean.  We ate on a pier that jutted out over the water, under strings of lights and paper lanterns.  The restaurant had its own boats that caught the all of the seafood, and a pool in which they kept it alive until we ordered it.

Although I’m not sure that I’ll be able to eat again for 3 days, it was a wonderful day full of delicious food (And bat.  Not delicious.).  What I will remember more, though, is the incredible hospitality that was shown to us.  Not to go all mushy on you, but I really was struck by the way that people went out of their way to make this an unforgettable trip for us.  It was so nice to be in the presence of families again, and enjoy the easy banter and crazy children that come along with it!

Driving.

Growing up, I always dreamed that I would someday fall in love with a boy.  A handsome boy.  My hypothetical beloved, handsome boy would have (or rent, or somehow acquire) a motorcycle.  While hypothetical beloved, handsome, motorcycle boy drove, I would sit on the back of said bike and enjoy the ride.

Now I am (partially?) grown up, and have realized that the boy is a completely unnecessary part of that dream.  Silly younger self.  Why sit behind a boy when I am perfectly capable of acquiring a motorbike and driving it myself?

If we’re being completely honest, I discovered this a few years ago.  And proceeded to almost run a motorbike through the front window of a casino. And ended up riding behind a handsome boy.  But that is a story for another day.

Current self is a much better motorbike driver.  As a congratulations-for-being-able-to-drive-a-motorbike-somewhere-besides-through-a-window gift to myself, I purchased a new toy 🙂

Isn’t it just the cutest!?  It’s called a Scoopy, and it’s a relatively popular scooter in Indonesia.

I am absolutely loving it!  Not only has my motorbike allowed me a new source of freedom and a fresh form of adventure, but it’s been an outlet for de-stressing.

When at school grading late or needing to unwind before bed, I’ll take Scoopy on a quick ride, usually touring Bulevar Palem Raya, the street that both my apartment and school reside on.  It’s probably the smoothest, straightest road in the area, and is relatively empty at night.  I can go fast enough that my worries can’t catch up and I can be free to appreciate the breeze blowing by (a rare luxury here).

Unfortunately, this driving bliss is not always the case.

Note: If you have any maternal relation to/feelings for me, you can just stop reading here and be reassured the previous part of my post (:

Although I have been pleasantly surprised by how quickly I have grown accustomed to my bike and the driving patterns of Indonesia (they drive on the left side of the road!), we wouldn’t want things to be too easy, now would we?  In order to increase the challenge and make things interesting, several level-ups have been added into the equation.

1.  Speed limit signs here are simply a suggestion worth laughing at. I would compare them to the “no chewing gum” rule in my high school Spanish classes.  Strangely enough, all of the speed limit signs are written in English (tuck this piece of information away, we will return to it later).  Anyway, to solve this problem they have installed speed bumps and staggered half gates (so you have to drive in an ‘S’ shape through them) on all of the roads.

2. White people get picked on. Yup, you heard me.  Let’s come back to the English speed limit signs – why is this the case, when maybe 5% of the population is English-speaking?  Because we are the only ones expected to follow the “rules”.  From what I have seen, I could swear that a police job description here reads something like “Allow all Indonesians to pass peacefully, but if you spot a white person, try to pull them over for something.”

3. People drive like they walk here.  No one cares where you are or where you are trying to go.  Driving here, you often wonder whether the drivers around you are in some sort of game, in which they gain points for cutting people off.  Clarification to this comparison:  drivers do not feel the need, as walkers do, to travel at the speed of a handicapped turtle.  Further clarification: pedestrians do continue at this speed, despite the fact that vehicles are attempting to drive.

4. Right of way does not exist.  Oh, you would like to turn right (the equivalent of an American left turn), sir?  Sure, please cut me off as I attempt to continue on my straight path.  Don’t worry, I will slam on my brakes in a last-ditch effort to avoid you.

5. Men. White girls are considered attractive here, and there aren’t too many of us.  Apparently, white girls riding motorbikes is a rare find.  Through this I have already learned (many times) that having men drive alongside you, talking to you in some unknown language, honking, and making obnoxious noises can be rather distracting.  I must say, though, that there is nothing more satisfying than leaving them in the dust.

6. Racecar tracks. Lippo Karawaci, my current city of residence, was a planned city, meaning that they whole thing was mapped out, and then built.  When they were designing it, they decided to make the main street a racing circuit.  While this is a cool idea, it makes everyday driving difficult – if you miss one minor branch-off, you have to continue around the entire circle again in order to correct your mistake.  With the crazy amounts of traffic, this means that 1) you end up driving in a lot of circles, and 2) others, who don’t want to drive in circles, make some pretty crazy moves to avoid doing so.

Despite some of the more comical traffic patterns here, I have absolutely loved having my motorbike and being able to navigate my way through my small pocket of Indonesia.  There is something about the open-air driving, being subject to the sights and smells and sounds, that makes you feel like you are experiencing the country in a more real way.  And I have a feeling that maybe, just maybe, I would at times miss the challenge and excitement of driving here, were I to move to a calmer area.

The Comforts of Home

I love to travel.  I love news places and new cultures.  And Indonesia.

But sometimes you just crave the comforts of home.  It’s not at all that I have some deep desire to move home… I simply need a few tastes of America once in a while.  In Costa Rica, I would periodically visit Pizza Hut.  I’m not sure I’ve ever intentionally eaten at a U.S. Pizza Hut in my life, but it was that little bit of something familiar that I needed.  In Spain, it was T.G.I.F.  (Not only did they provide Heinz ketchup, but they showed the U.S.A. world cup games, which, for the record, are quite difficult to view anywhere but the States).

I’ve now been in Indonesia 3 months, and it was time for a go-find-things-I’ve-missed day.

You must understand, I live in a rather Westernized suburb of Jakarta.  I have access to most things I would’ve wanted when I lived on the opposite side of the world, in addition to many treats I couldn’t have afforded there (primary example: massages).  That said, the items that are unattainable seem that much more fantastic when you can’t find them.  It’s an interesting phenomenon.

Side note: All attempts to find Gushers have been futile.  If you know where in Indonesia one can locate Gushers, please inform me.

This afternoon, I headed into downtown Jakarta with some fellow teachers.  I must say, it was a great get-away.  I realized, though, that it wasn’t an escape from Indonesia that made it so refreshing, but that adventure to the in between place, the middle-ground where I can experience the best of both worlds.

I’ve actually become quite fond of the quirks of Indonesia (which are, in all reality, just quirks to me, because of my American perspective).  It’s like that friend that’s different from most people that you know – at first, the oddities kind of throw you off.  After a while, though, you get used to them, and they become comforting and wonderful.  I would miss these new, different things that have become comfortable here, were I to leave.

First, we went to the Duty Free shop.  I must preface this by explaining that finding alcohol is virtually an impossibility in this country.  The above mentioned shop sells nothing but alcohol to no one but expats.  It’s half-hidden off of the main street and has darkened doors; in order to purchase the drinks, one most produce a passport from another country.  I have no idea what the legality behind this is or how they can manage such sales, but do wonder how it is pulled off.

Side note #2:  the neighboring store sold mustache-shaped cookie cutters.  How cool is that!?

After our quick stop at the secret expat hideout (I must say, it’s weird to me now when I’m surrounded by white people.  I wonder why they’re there and join in the staring.), we continued to a new mall complex.  Malls spread like the most contagious of diseases here – they’re everywhere, most of them stretching six or seven stories high. We headed to a new one that combined three malls into one.  The first was a sort of gigantic mall version of a market, the final one a very nice, new mall, and the middle one was an somewhere between the two (both physically and in terms of atmosphere).

We explored for a while, especially enjoying the emptiness of the final mall (things tend to be extremely crowded here – walking in a straight, unhindered line is a luxury).  We found many things that would’ve been a struggle to find in the States. For example,

Rambo Knives

Salmon Teriyaki flavored chips

Famous SPH graduates

Dangerous Mini Coopers

As I explained before, though, the beauty of this trip was in the happy marriage between Indonesian and American.  I was also able to indulge in several treats that I normally struggle to find in Indonesia:

Much missed groceries

Outback Steakhouse (a.k.a. good burgers)

Good (warm!) bread

Cheap work out clothes – we went to an awesome store, where things manufactured
for America (in Indonesia) go when they don’t make the shipment. 

We even stumbled upon an impressive display of Jakarta street photography, which captured perfectly many of the cultural aspects of the city.  The truth in the photos saddened us at times, and caused us to laugh at others.  After the crazy introduction to rainy season a few days ago (really – we’re talking rivers replacing streets and stairs being transformed into rushing waterfalls), the picture of men kayaking through traffic was one of my favorites.

Finally, we finished out the day relaxing in plush, $3.50 seats (another perk of living in Indonesia) of Nemo in 3D, complete with a hilarious Toy Story short film to start it off.

Life is good.

Hitting my students.

As if I needed another activity to prove my clumsiness.

I have been the butt of many lack-of-coordination jokes. Between my less than stellar athletic abilities and my comically warped eyesight, I tend to trip/misjudge/get hit by things/not catch things… you get the picture.

Despite this poor track record, week-ago-self decided that it would be a good idea to participate in Bulan Bahasa.  Current-day-self is questioning the wisdom behind that decision.  Bulan Bahasa, or Indonesia month, is a really neat celebration here at SPH that recognizes Indonesian culture.  Kids work on dramas, dances, and fashion shows that portray the culture and tradition of their country.

I am now a dancer.  Of traditional Indonesian dances.

HA.

I have never been much of a dancer (understatement of the year), but figured this would be a good idea for several reasons unrelated to my skill set.  First of all, it would be a first-hand way to experience and learn about different aspects of Indonesia.  Secondly, it would be a way to intentionally get to know some of the students.  Finally, it would be a fun way to exercise.

Upon my arrival at the first practice, I found out that there were three dances that would be performed.  

The first was a partners dance, featuring only 6 students.  Because I don’t particularly aspire to be twirled around by the high school boys in front of the entire school, this one was not an option.

Dance number two: plate spinning.  With real, ceramic plates.  Enough said.

So, dance number three it was.  This dance is called “tari saman”, and it’s a traditional dance from the island of Sumatra.  Basically, it’s a lot of patterned clapping.  Kindergarten Sunday School pre-prayer routine throwback?  

Not at all.

We’re talking some hard core, confusing clapping patterns.  That move as fast as those grocery store clerks on their number pads.

Spotted throughout the frenzied clapping are random big arm movements, leading to me whacking the student seated next to me.  Several times.

Needless to say, I have re-confirmed for myself that I am not coordinated and I am not a dancer. My ankles hurt from sitting on them, my knuckles are bruised from two hours of rapidly smacking them on the stage.  I think the others have realized that I’m a couple steps behind their natural Indonesian awesome-ness, too – I received a personal round of applause for my progress today!

All of that, though, only makes the challenge that much sweeter – trying new things is the best.  I’m working to learn the moves, and hope to be able to pull them off by the time we perform!  It should be a fun event – they’ll dress us up in the traditional outfit and makeup, and I will showcase my new skills alongside six other girls.

Here goes nothing!

10 reasons I’ll go broke when I go home.

$.25 in America: a gumball.  
$.25 in Indonesia: an ice cream cone.

$.50 in America: Tri-C parking
$.50 in Indonesia: an ojek (motorcycle taxi) ride to school.

$2.00 in America: coke at a restaurant
$2.00 in Indonesia: entree at a restaurant

$2.50 in America: coffee
$2.50 in Indonesia: tank of gas

$3.00 in America: movie popcorn
$3.00 in Indonesia: movie

$5.00 in America: fingernail polish removal
$5.00 in Indonesia: hour long massage

$10.00 in America: Downtown 3-hour parking
$10.00 in Indonesia: phone and internet for a month

$12.00 in America: tolls between Chicago and Cleveland
$12.00 in Indonesia: a 2-hour taxi ride

$40.00 in America: a new pair of shoes
$40.00 in Indonesia: a house helper for a month

$50.00 in America: a tank of gas
$50.00 in Indonesia: a flight to Bali

I’ve been awfully spoiled.