Indonesia 2000

26 September
I left the fine city today.I left Serangoon at 11:00 A.M. Dinesh, Nabin and Panchani came to see me off. I was planning to take a ferry to Indonesia. We roamed around in the seaside for a while and parted promising to keep in touch.
Ahter travelling for 35 minutes we reached the Batam island of Indonesia. A German fellow traveler, George gave me some sound advice and showed me the way. Forest, narrow street, I went along all and suddenly it started to rain. After two hours I reached Telaga Punggur. Then I took the boat at 5:15 for Pinang island. Indonesia is a country of islands. It was already dark when I reached the Pinang Island and the crowd flocked from various hotels. They dispersed once they knew that I didn't plan to stay in hotel or rather couldn't afford. Eldames followed me and took me to Home Stay, which was quite cheap. After dinner, he took me to Sangarang island where his home was. We walked together for a while and at last he hesitantly talked about Indonesian girls. I was not interested. But he insisted that I should leave with Tini, an Indonesian girl who spoke a little English, just for the company. We came together to the Pinang island. I bought her a packet of cigarettes and promised to meet her tomorrow.

27 September
Tini reached my room at 9:30. I am leaving for Kitang, 28 km away from Pinang island and Tini is eager to accompany there insisting that her home is there. I feel sorry for her, poverty makes people desperate.
I reached Kitang and planned to take a ship to Jakarta, that keft at 1:00 P.M.. When I reached the port, Tini was already there with that sad smile of her. I listened to her for awhile, took few photographs and gave some money to her before taking leave.
At 1:00, the ship left. I made friends with Nova who was in the adjacent bed. He was aklso going to Jakarta with his niece. I shared his meal and sat to write my diary. Many people gathered getting curious. I showed them the photographs and postcards of Nepal.

29 September
the ship was on the sea whole day. There were no islands in sight. Around noon, there was suddenly an emergency alarm. All people got out, afraid and panicky. The safety guards were in their life jackets, ready to lower the lifeboats. I was worried sick and trying to figure out what things I should take with myself. Again there was an announcement for all the passengers to return to their own seats. Actually it was just an exercise for the safety guards to prepare for an emergency. At 2:00, the engines actually stopped working. The ship now dragged even slowly.
We reached Port Njung Priok at 10:00 P.M., three hours later than the assigned time. I asked for help in a police station. Nobody spoke English. I spread my mattress on the floor.

September 30
The T.V. was on for whole night. The police on duty were constantly moving and that disturbed the sleep from time to time. In the morning the police sent out a boy who was sleeping inside. Around 10 years of age, he was running away to Jakarta from his home. I remembered lot of Khates in Kathmandu who shared similar history. I really felt sorry for the kid and gave him some money.
The smoke-covered Jakarta reminds me of Manila. Neither the footpath nor the traffic is systematic. At 11:00, I reached a Gurudwar of some Sikhs at Pasar Baru. They were not willing to let me stay there as some Nepalese had stayed there for a month. They had just asked for seven days but forcefully stayed for a month, people told me. Many stories were floating about the crew of Laxman Sapkota, most of them not so good. I didn't know whether they were true or not but it was really bugging. "They planned to go to Austarlia, but couuldn't get a visa and returned to Nepal, maybe you will do the same", everyone was saying. I didn't know what to say. Of course I planned to go to Australia but at t he same teime had no plnas to stay there. What could I say? I thought of an easy way. I just showed them that I had already been to Japan and didn't stay there. Then only they thawed. One gave me the address of Gulraj Singh who forwarded me to Harjit Singh. He also started the story about theprevious crew. Now it was getting too much. Getting a little angry, I told him that all Nepalese can't be judged by a behavior of one and ditto for Indians like him. He softened a little and permitted me to sleep on the floor besides the temple.
In a money exchange office of Pasir Baru street, I met Tomy, who was also into money exchange. A degree holder, he had adopted this line as he couldn't get a better job. The declining economy of Indonesia has left its ugly marks everywhere. The city is also getting very unsafe. Recently 12 people had died in Jakarta. Tomy asked me to be careful. Slowly he also asked about the girls. I was more worried about a place to sleep. He took me to the temple and after some trouble, thanks to Ramesh, I am allowed to sleep in a veranda.

October 1
Since it was a Sunday, the temple was packed. Sikhs are supposed to spent 10% of their income in temples and 10% in social service. At 9:00 I left for Mona with Tomy. Monas is also called as a monument of Jakarta. There was a huge crowd and we had to stand for half an hour in a queue. The view of Jakarta from the top was hazy because of the fog. Thgen we went to see independence hall. The people there seemed really independent and free, there were couples everywhere. We bought some food from a vendor and went to see the president's building. There was a big procession of students protesting against the inflation. The students carried the nation's flag and not the flag of some political parties.
I was not permitted to sleep in the temple from that night. Tomy arranged for my night stay at a Masjid near his home.

October 3
It was difficult to decide my next destination. According to my original plan I was supposed to leave for Australia, but the story of Laxman Sapkota, dissuaded me from trying that. I opted for Popua New Guinea. Outside the embassy there as a list of visa prohibited countries like Africa,India, Pakistan etc. After I went and discussed for 30 minutes there, Nepal was also added to the list. Flying with rage, I returned. The smoke from the vehicles including the "Bajaj" autorickshaw added to my headache. Back in the room, I flopped on the bed and thought what next. "Dashain is approaching. Shall I return to my own country?"

October 4
The next stop of my tour from Indonesia was decided: East Timor. I went to the United Nation's Information center to learn about the situation there. After talking for around 2 hours with Yuchita Soedono, I was convinced that at present, East Timor was quite safe and the environment was peaceful. Yuchita felt that a person like me, who was spreading the message of peace around the world, should go there. Even after UN had declared peace, there was regular news about conflicts and bloodshed there. Just 2 days ago I had read about a section of people in Indonesia who thought that East Timor should be a part of their country. Even Tomy agreed with that. Maybe there is still some danger, but what the heck, if I die I will die spreading the message of peace.

Suddenly it started raining in the afternoon. I went to a saloon near the hostel. Bambang, the barber, has been inviting me from day one. He taught me to say Hello Sayang (Hello Honey!), a trendy line to woo girls. After talking for a while, he also asked me if I needed a girl. I can't imagine why girls are so cheap here. You can see a line of prostitutes in the evening in Jalan Jaksa, around the restaurants, almost anywhere. I couldn't sleep well and went for a stroll around Jalan Jaksa at 11:00 p.m. Suddenly a guy, obviously a gay, approached me and held my hands. "Let's go to my room and talk", he stated bluntly. "I love gays, but I don't want to have sex with them", I was straightforward too.

October 5
I had breakfast with Mark and Didier. They were cycling from London to Melbourne. Didier is a French and Mark, an Australian. They eagerly shared their experiences about Nepal. They had a lovely time and found Nepalese really hospitable. Many drivers had paid for their food, along the many highways. They also loved the Nepalese food, especially momos, chang and tongba. They had plans to visit Nepal again. At present, they were heading for Surabaya on ship.

Nobody cycles in Java, the traffic is way too dense. Mark also cautioned me. The sky looks dangerously cast with dark clouds, but the environment is suffocating and hot due to smoke. There are old vehicles everywhere - autorickshaws, minibuses, trains. Kids can be seen begging whenever the traffic stops at a red light. It reminded me of Delhi. I was suffering from cold. The dust and rain had done their trick.

It was already late when I reached Kosambi. I headed towards a group of people to ask for a place to stay. A guy called Sammy took me to his home in a village nearby. A crowd of kids gathered around my bicycle. After a while some young men and women also joined in. "Do you like Indonesian women", Sammy asked teasingly. In what sense? I wondered. "Good ladies", I replied carefully, treading on safe ground and hoping that there would be no more embarrassing queries. I still had some chhurpis left, which I distributed to everybody. Soon, it was time for dinner. I ate like a starving man.

October 12
At 6 in the evening, the bus was on board. The ship carries 10 to 12 buses and minibuses to Bali, the famous Indonesian island. We reached Denpar, the kingdom of Bali at 5 in the morning. It is the most sought after tourist destination. Around 90% of the people here are Hindu. Their religion is however totally based on Ramayana. As I climbed down from the bus, a person approached me. He had heard and studied many things about Nepal and planned to see the Mount Everest someday. He was waiting for his wife and kid with a book and a toy in his hand and looked expectantly at every bus that passed. At last they arrived. I headed for the city. It was no different than Jakarta in terms of pollution. I arranged to stay in Mawar hotel in Diponegoro street. My health hadn't improved and I was missing home terribly, but there was nothing to be done now. I drank a glass of hot water and went to the governer's office. After an hour of wandering aimlessly with the staff there, finally I was taken to Winaya, the Assistant Administrative officer. I told him everything about myself including my terrible health condition. He told me he was speaking English after 20 years and reminisced about the time when our king had travelled here 20 years ago. He officially gave me 25,0000 Rupih for food and accomodation for one week. I returned to the hotel and called the Bali Post. The journalist Rama took my interview and invited me to stay at his place, as I was getting really sick. Although I had already paid for the night at the hotel I followed Rama to his home. It was quite far from the hustlebustle of the city. He lived in a small house with an equally small garden with his mother, wife and son. A small and peaceful world, away from the city. I promised to come back the following day and got lost once again in the maddening crowd of the city.

October 13
I checked out of the hotel where I had planned to stay for some days. The hotel owner was surprised. "I am staying with a friend", I explained. My interview was published today in the newspaper, so a paper boy gave it to me free of cost. I had to go to the Australian consulate today for my visa. I was inquired about sponsors and credit cards. All I had was the certificates of my tour and cuttings of my interviews. "How much money do you have", they asked. I showed 500 USD, that I had hidden inside my belt. The notes were quite crumpled and full of black spots. The girl at the counter was really inspecting it carefully, maybe she thought they were forged. At last I was told I couldn't get a visa by showing cash. I asked to meet the consulate, she gave me an appointment for the following day. I had to pay 31,000 Rupih for the visa application. It was non-refundable.

I called Rama. He had come to the hotel for me but had already left. The traffic is really dangerous here. I have to maneuver carefully. There are no red lights in the zebra crossings and it takes quite some time to cross streets. The city displays many temples, which are almost similar to those in Nepal. It took me almost an hour to reach Rama's place. I thankfully enjoy the serenity of the place after the hectic rush hour of the city.

October 14
I was still suffering from the terrible flu. Doctors had prescribed rest, but then they always do. Rama gave me natural massage. He is very helpful. We went to Sakuwati village after our meal. The village and actually, the whole of Bali, is full of artistic temples, the main reason for tourist inflow there. Puradesa temple is the biggest temple here. There was a big festival going on here, which would last for 15 days. It was an important festival celebrated every 30 years. It was compulsory for all to dress up in their traditional costumes. The boys wore white turban, white coat and lungi. The girls wore white turbans with a picture of a half-sun printed on the back, transparent tops that accentuated their beautiful curves and lungi. Rama had to return but I stayed back. At 8:00, I went with some girls for group prayers. There were thousands of people. The priest would pray first and then everybody would take flowers, put it on their heads and follow. It was carried out four times. Then we were sprinkled with holy water, again four times and drink it from the palm of our hand, four times. Then we had to take 'akshyata' from the plate, eat three grains and put the rest on our forehead. The ceremony is quite lively. Inside the square, the well dressed men played numerous instruments. The girls looked calm and beautiful. I returned at 11:00 and left for Denpasar with Rama after an hour. It started raining again. I was beginning to get worried about my health.

October 15
I stayed at Rama's house the whole day. There is a river nearby and around the house there is a garden full of coconut and mango trees. I tried to relax. My fever has subsided but not the cold and cough. Rama's little son Brahma (pronounced as Prama) wants to play with me. He talks and teases me in his own language, I talk in mine. He thinks it's funny and gets more interested. How could I tell him that I am sick? And anyway he helped me cheer up. I remembered some little friends from my past. I had really grown close to little Sakriya during my stay in Kathmandu, where I went to college. We used to play a lot, at times I even had to bunk college for him. He even accompanied me in the toilets, cuffed with plastic handcuffs! Then there was 'Khappare'. I called him little Apil Khappare. Our friendship was strong too. He loved me more than his own mother. Where are they now? We make so many friends along the way and just move on. After my tour, my little friends would all grow up, and maybe our friendship will be forgotten. My little friends, will you remember me after 10 years?

October 17
After 10 days of sickness I am finally feeling better, thanx to the efforts of the doctor and Rama. I am really grateful to him, who did so much for a stranger. Merpati Airlines was ready to sponsor the air tickets from Bali to East Timor. The e-mail from East Timor, is however not very encouraging. The situation there seemed really serious. UN peacekeepers were few and unable to control the violence. Hotel and restaurants were closed and cyclists were viewed with suspicion. But what can I do now? I only have two options, stop the tour or continue. But the fear of death looms large. I have to accept its possibility. My only solace would be that I died spreading the message of peace. Oh my well wishers, my friends, if something happens to me, please accept that my death was easy, it was my choice and not a death of a coward. In this short life, I have been able to spread peace to so many places. I am satisfied with my life and my soul will rest in peace.

There are so many things on my mind right now. People want freedom and they fight for freedom. They win and declare peace. Can the bloodshed and death of thousands of people be justified in the name of freedom and a mere declaration of peace? And where is peace, anyway? This world is a single home of all people. Why can't we live like brothers then? Why can't people live and let live in peace?

October 18
It was a holiday for Asti who had promised me to take to Sanor beach. After our meal we went to a quieter side of the beach and talked for a long time. Asti is in Bali for her studies from East Timor. Her family is in East Timor and now she can't go to her own home, but as a foreigner. A tragic story woven by the partition. Maybe her father is lying in the hospital, wounded from a bullet. Maybe her mother is lying under the debris of the bombing. Her brothers and sisters might be wandering in the streets in search of food. She imagines terrible pictures. She can't reach her family. It's an inhuman tale of pain. I cry with her. I am going to East Timor tomorrow. I promise to meet her family and give the messages. I am determined to find her family.

Finally the sun set and we returned. There was rain and thunderstorm again. Asti asked me to stay with her that night due to the rain. There might have been other reasons too but I had to reach the airport at 7:45 a.m., the next day. Rama's house is 7 km from Asti's room and I wouldn't be able to manage tomorrow. So I apologized, took leave and thought, "I cannot enjoy this night with my new friend."