Jogykarta, Indonesia to Sipadan Island, Malaysia

“Peace cannot be attained through violence. It can only be attained through understanding”. Einstein

Indonesia is a strange land. The political label “Unified in Diversity” feels like a superficial Kumbaya attempt to try to create the image of peace in a country in constant turmoil on multiple fronts. It is much more settled since the election of SBY, the current president. The country has gone from a 30-year dictatorship to a fairly stable democracy over the last 12 years. But there remains the fact of recent blood shed, yes, within the last 10-15 years, from East Timor to Kalimantan to Java. Aceh has been granted freedom to practice sharia law to keep them from pursuing violent tactics. The Javanese fundamental Muslims, think Mafia, are creating fear in Java. The tribes of the Apokayan Highlands in Borneo are fighting and killing to keep loggers from destroying their precious home. Hunger is rampant. Hunger drives human beings to do anything to meet basic needs.

After our encounter with the volcano Bromo we spent a week in Yogyakarta, a city known for its hundreds of universities and its intellectual atmosphere. It is also one of the few areas in Indonesia that still retains the power of a sultan (a Muslim king). Many Indonesians from the multitude of islands come here to study. We decided to do a little couchsurfing. We stayed with three hosts over the next week. Cool experience. We were able to experience Yogya (pronounced Joja) from the minds and hearts of three very different households.

Ruimzicht
Our first night we stayed with Wim and Phillip. Wim is a 66 year-old retired Dutch journalist who fell in love with Phillip 12 years ago, married him, and moved to Phillip's home country, Indonesia. They built a beautiful custom home outside of Yogya surrounded by beautiful landscaping, a live bird collection, and two clumsy sweet golden retrievers. We slept in a beautiful four-poster bed with crisp sheets and our own outdoor bathroom. Phillip, younger than Wim by 20 years, manages a business that exports housewares and décor to large shops such as Crate and Barrel, Cost Plus World Market, and Pier 1 Imports. Here's the kicker: Those items are EACH created and handmade under palm trees, in small storefronts, and in people's modest homes of tin and wood and dirt floors. There is no factory, no assembly lines, no machinery. Wim was very open and eager to share his experiences as a European living in Indonesia. He felt that one of the biggest difficulties for him was the inability to trust Indonesians. You never know what a smile means. Sometimes people fear the truth will hurt someone's feelings. They lie to save face. It's their culture; unwritten societal rules. But so different from what we value. It reminds me of the ethical dilemma that is sometimes encountered in Western hospitals... that Asian families will ask the physician and nurse not to tell their child or grandparent of their diagnosis so as to “protect them” from the truth. It's a hard concept for Westerners to grasp. We will always remember Wim for his wide view, or Ruimzicht (in Dutch). He believes, as his father did, in being open to all cultures, beliefs, and values. Live and Let Live.

You Go Girl!
We stayed for 3 nights with Mia, Edi, and their little boy Ega in their middle-class home in the northern suburbs of Yogya. Mia is a thirty-something go-getter with a drive to succeed like no other we have met on our trip. She fights her spoiled upbringing with humanitarian pursuits and work. She and Edi don't get to spend a lot of time together. He is busy as the second-in-command at a microfinance bank, mountain biking, and playing with Ega. Mia is busy running her English School, writing books, and spending time with friends singing Karyoke! She has an amazing voice. Always a surprise around the corner with Mia. We were guests on her one-hour English radio program for Jogja English School (JES) where she interviewed us about cultural differences and our travels. One caller asked us this: “ Hi. I was wondering what you do for a living. How do you like Yogya? Do you believe in the supernatural or ghosts?”. -Uhhh...
We thank Mia for the Al Jazeera fix, the meals, and the kindness and attention she gave us. “No You Didunt...” (with neck moving side to side and fingers snapping in the air...)  Mia - eat your vegetables!

Crazy Indian and Crazier Indonesian
The last few nights we spent with Manu and Dede. Manu is Indian, and has been living in Yogya for over a year with his girlfriend Dede who is native to the area. It was with Manu and Dede that Brett and I found ourselves transported back to college, crammed into one car with eight people, reaching the nightclub by midnight. We had some amazing conversations with this unlikely pair over “goat bone soup” and thick black coffee with a hot wedge of glowing charcoal floating on top. They took us and the French gals to the banyan trees where we were blindfolded and made to walk between the two banyans in order to have our wish fulfilled. We touched the stone monument (Tugu) in the center of the city which indicates that we will return to Yogya again someday. And we learned the word Jembhut. You don't want to know. While staying with Manu and Dede we took a trip to the active volcano Merapi (last eruption was 2006!) and climbed it overnight with a steaming peak view of the sunrise the following morning. Then back to Manu's. My favorite memory of this crazy couple is riding on the back of Dede's scooter while she sang an entire Jason Mraz song about love and world peace.

Tarakan and the Lost Days
Tarakan was hard. It is a rough port town in Eastern Indonesia (Lonely Planet failed us miserably). It is a necessary evil to get to other destinations, but we stayed for four days trying unsuccessfully to plan our jungle trek into the interior. The gem in this town was meeting Dave and Joy Forney. We found Dave at Missionary Air Fellowship (MAF), a Christian organization that hires small plane pilots to live in third world countries and provide needed services. He and his wife had us over to their home for dinner and provided assistance in planning our jungle tour. They live in Tarakan with their 5 kids. They were recently given a baby gibbon (related to apes) who just wanted to hang around your neck and cuddle everywhere you went. Even Brett fell in love with that sweet little animal! Maybe since we aren't having kids, we could get a gibbon! Hee, hee!

Quentin Tarantino Moments
We seem to have one QT moment a month. The first was in the middle of the night when our overnight bus stopped at a roadside cafeteria for us to eat, somewhere in Indonesia (BFI). The lighting was yellow and dim. The music was loud and sounded like foreign elevator music. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion. A dusty old store front selling mementos, toys and kitch was open outside the restaurant door, poorly lit with a shadowy figure behind the counter.

The second QT moment was at the port in Tarakan awaiting our boat outta there. Over the loudspeaker a breathy woman spoke slow careful instructions in Indonesian while the sound reverberated eerily through the air. Motorcycles flashed by, large trucks covertly carrying goods slowly ground to a halt, and army men in fatigues piled onto the dock unloading their second-hand U.S. machine guns (M-16s), while seedy looking men lounged about the ticket counters.

The third QT moment...we watched the movie Inglorious Bastards! Disturbing.

The Plight of the Chinese
Everyone seems to marginalize the Chinese. We have started finding ourselves trying to defend the underdog. Indonesians historically have gone after the Chinese, burning their businesses and homes. The word on the street is that the Chinese either steal their business, or they cut corners and produce poorly made goods. It has been quite a theme in Asia. It resembles, in some ways, how the Jews are marginalized. Both seem to stem from the fact that both Chinese and Jews are hard-working and successful, and this creates the fear in others of being replaced or dominated. This is just an initial observation...no data here.

Ramadan
Ramadan started on August 11. What would this mean for us and our travels? Well, the call-to-prayer sounded all night that first night (seemingly). No Muslim eats or drinks during daylight hours for a month so that they may practice self-control and strength of spirit, mind and body. Many restaurants either close during the day, or just pull their door half-way closed. McDonald's, KFC, and the Chinese restaurants are open. We just have to be careful not to eat in front of people who are fasting out of respect. AND, no one can smoke all day! Heaven!

True story to illustrate what Ramadan looks like: Brett and I had hopped a 2-hour bus from the airport to Semporna one evening. The bus was full, Brett and I the only bulays. (white people or foreigners). Suddenly, on a long stretch of road lined with palm trees for as far as the eye could see, the van briskly pulled over and came to a stop. There was a flurry of activity and opening of plastic bags, paper and soda bottles. After a moment of discombobulation, we realized the call-to-eat had occurred, and all of the Muslims in our van had just been waiting for that moment to satisfy their hunger! We later were told that they only have a few minutes to get those first bites in or the devil would get in. I cannot substantiate this belief as true, though!

Diving in Mabul

For the last week we have been in far eastern Malaysia in Semporna. We were led here by our Bali dive guide who said this is one of the best places in the world to dive! We have seen some pretty cool stuff during our seven dives in two days. Cuttlefish, tons of green turtles, rockfish, leafy scorpionfish, mantis shrimp, lionfish, Indian walkman, etc. Life underwater is so weird, magical, otherworldly. But we are waiting out the better part of a week to get to the real treasure...the Sipadan dive with sharks.

The Reality of Travel
Okay. So those of you who have done this kind of travel probably warned us. But do we ever listen? Naw. Traveling the world is not so romantic. It is a lot of the mundane, interspersed with some incredible moments and experiences. It's sleeping on buses, getting stuck waiting hours at ports, being stinky and sticky, finding out after staying in a creepy dirty room for 4 nights that it was in vein because the trip you were planning fell through. Travel is easily summed up by the wisdom: Wo-man plans, God laughs. It is spending every breathing moment with the one you love, or who you thought you loved, or who just gets on your every last nerve!!! But, it is also a time for reflection. It is in the reflection that the true meaning of all this comes. It is in the crash course in communication skills with your life mate that you grow. Ya know...listen with intent, repeat back what the other person said, and acknowledge their feelings. It is about learning compromise, not just saying it, but really practicing it. Because you have to. It is a lesson in maturity, of staying cool under stress and change. It's about pushing your limits. It's about knowing the world in a different way. Knowing how China feels. Knowing how Indonesia thinks. Feeling the quiet miracle of floating near the bottom of the ocean amongst strange creatures. And of glancing at your partner with a knowing look that says, “Yeah, I know. I thought that too.”