The dark boat ride

We left Lake Toba at 7am to catch the bus to Singkil. Three bus rides and seven hours later we were on our last bus to Singkil. Our driver did not speak English, so we wrote the name of the guesthouse on a piece of paper and asked the Indonesian man sitting in front of us to hand it to the driver. The man read the paper and nodded, saying something to the driver in Indonesian. We assumed that the man told the driver the name of the guesthouse for us, but our assumptions were wrong. As we drove through the town of Singkil the man sitting in front of me kept turning around and raising his eyebrows and licking his lips. He then asked Ryan if it was alright if he could kiss me. Ryan said no, and put his arm around me to show the man that I was his girlfriend. The man  just smiled and kept staring at me. Then we arrived at the man's guesthouse and the driver motioned for us to get out of the car. The man smiled and was waving for us to follow him. It was at that moment we realized that the man told the driver to drop us off at his guesthouse. After a few minutes of us telling the man we were not following him to his guesthouse, he gave up and left. We showed the name of our guesthouse to the driver but he didnt recognize the name. Luckily we wrote down the phone number, and before we knew it we were dropped off at the correct guest house. At the Sapo Bellen guesthouse we were greeted by a friendly man. He sat us down and explained to us how we would get to Pulau Tailana. He told us that we would catch the local boat at 9am the next morning and we would be brought to Pulau Balai where we would be picked up and brought by speed boat to Pulau Tailana. With our unlucky encounters in Sumatra, we put our trust in this man hoping that everything would work out as planned. Luckily, there were many great reviews on TripAdvisor to put our worries at ease. The next morning we arrived at the boat dock at 8am, an hour before "departure". As expected we were on Indonesian time, which meant we didnt really depart until 1:30pm. We sat at the dock all morning watching men load the boat with crates full of food, motorbikes, and house hold appliances. When it was time for the people to board there was hardly any room.Ryan and I sat on the floor of the boat with twenty other Indonesians.The boat was crammed full with anything and everything, I felt like we were on Noah's ark. When the boat began to depart the water level was too low and we kept hitting the ground, causing everyone to lash forward with a jolt. We ended up sitting stationary in the water waiting for the sea level to rise. Four hours later we finally made it to the large island of Pulau Balai, a small fishing village in the Indian Ocean. When the boat arrived a man in a bright yellow shirt began to wave to us. With skepticism we told ourselves we were not leaving with anyone until they could confirm their name and answer some security questions so we knew we were safe. The man ended up being the correct guy, and we followed him to a nearby house. The house belonged to Mr, Marley the owner of Pulau Tailana. At the man's house Mr. Marely showed Ryan how to pick starfruit from the trees using a plastic bottle and stick contraption. Shortly after the man and his friend led us to a small wooden boat similar to a canoe with a motor on the back. We were told that the ride to Tailana would only take us one hour. The ride was beautiful. We passed many uninhabited islands and turquoise crystal clear water. Thirty minutes into the ride the sun went down and it was pitch black dark.After an hour and a half on the boat we began to get a little nervous riding in pitch black darkness. The boat didnt have any lights, the islands we passes were black with darkness, and the only light came from the blue bioluminescences where the boat hit the water. The sound of the motor was too loud to ask the man at the front of the boat if we were near, so we sat with nervous anticipation as we rode into the darkness. When two hours passed and we were still riding in complete darkness negative thoughts began to pop up in our minds. What if we were being brought to some island where we were going to be robbed or brought to some tribe for a sacrifice? Just as our ridiculous thoughts began to manifest, our worries subsided when we saw a light in the distance. We finally made it to Tailana!

Lake Toba: The largest volcanic lake in the world

When we arrived at Lake Toba we checked in to our hotel; Bagus Bay. The place was fantastic! Because it was low season there were very few tourists,luckily for us that meant we were able to get our room for six dollars a night, which was a real bargain considering the guesthouse had a pool table, volleyball, badminton, and a waterfront deck with lounge chairs and an incredible view of the lake. We were in absolute paradise. The island of Samosir was huge. We stayed in the town of tuk tuk , which is a quaint touristy town filled with guesthouses, restaurants, and souvenir shops. The lake itself was massive, surrounded by steep mountains covered in beautiful green jungle and farmland. It was an incredibly amazing experience staying on a lake inside of a volcano.We stayed for five nights. Everyday we swam in the lake and spent our lazy afternoons playing badminton and pool. At night we enjoyed the incredible food. It was some of the best food I have ever had. Our favorite restaurant was Jenny's where we ordered fresh BBQ fish with salad and fries.We also had some incredible Indonesian dishes like Gado Gado ( boiled veggies with peanut sauce), it was to die for. One of our days on Toba we rented a motorbike and explored the countryside. The island was so huge, we rode all day and only saw a small portion of it. Half way through our drive we stopped at a little concession stand on the property of an old woman's house to buy a beer. We sat in her yard at the picnic table drinking our beer and taking in the incredible aerial view of lake toba, while the old woman picked through her cacao beans and her grandchildren ran around naked and barefoot.The culture on Lake Toba was very different from the rest of Sumatra. The people are from the Batak Culture where they speak a different language and are predominately Christian. The architecture of the houses were quite fascinating ;with large pointy slanted roofs, and churches everywhere. In the town of tuk tuk mushrooms were sold everywhere. If you walked down the street you were sure to be asked "Do you need a motorbike? Laundry Service? Magic Mushrooms?" . It took me by surprise how many times we were offered them. I was also shocked to learn that they were legal, considering the use of marijuana results in the death penalty. The five nights spent at Toba were incredibly relaxing, and filled with beautiful views, great food, and fun.

Beristagi: Erupting Volcano and Giant Waterfall

The day before we arrived in Beristagi one of the two active volcanoes erupted, sending some of the small villages near the base of the volcanoes into evacuation. When we arrived everything was hazy and covered in Ash. On our first full day we did the hike to the Sibayak Volcano. The hike was steep. The long two hour incline to the top was well worth it. The Volcano was active but not erupting. Lucky for us there were very few people. Once again we were the only tourists, with a few other Indonesians, all of whom we took pictures with by request. We hiked around the top of the volcano and inside. It was magnificent! The smell of sulfur permeated the air and the hot steam shot out in loud bolts through the cracks of the earth. On a clear day you can see the other volcano, but because of its eruption the day before you couldnt see anything through the ashy sky and dark clouds. After an hour of exploring the volcano we made the walk back to our guesthouse. The next day we decided to catch the local bus to the Sippiso Piso waterfall. When we were dropped off in the town we walked 3km down the road towards the waterfall. We saw a sign written in Indonesian with the name of the waterfall and a dirt path. Assuming that it was the way to the waterfall we began to walk. We ended up walking to the top of a steep mountain, which lead no where. When we walked back down we tried to get directions to the waterfall but no one spoke English, so we kept walking further down the road, hoping to find the waterfall. By the time we reached the waterfall entrance we were already exhausted from our hike up the mountain that led no where. But the waterfall was so big and beautiful we couldnt let our exhaustion keep us from walking down the long flight of stairs to the bottom of the waterfall. The waterfall was 100 meters tall (300ft). At the base of the waterfall the force was so strong that you were instantly drenched with water just standing fifty feet away from the base. It was the most beautiful waterfall I had ever seen. Along the walk back up the stairs we had to stop ten times to take pictures with Indonesians. At this point it became an expected daily activity. When we reached the road we asked the man at the entrance about catching a bus back into town. He told us to wait where we were and one would come shortly. After five minutes of waiting the man flagged down a pickup truck, said something to the driver and motioned for us to hop in the bed of the truck. We hopped in the back next to an Indonesian woman with orange stained teeth holding a baby, and an old man. We rode for ten minutes into town where the truck dropped us off at the bus stop free of charge. The next morning we caught a bus from Beristagi to Lake Toba. The ride was treacherous. Our driver drove like a maniac. Within thirty minutes of driving we got a flat tire, and had to stop at a bus stop to change the tire. The rest of the ride wasn't much better. Loud Indonesian pop music blasted through the speakers, and massive potholes, larger than the size of the car, made the ride slow and bumpy. Around dinner time we finally made it to Toba.

Jungle Trek and Sneaky fingers

We arrived at the friendship guesthouse in Ketambe in the evening. The guesthouse was simple and cozy surrounded by beautiful jungle. In the restaurant there were a few other tourists, the first we had seen so far on our trip. We ordered dinner, talked to some of the other travelers about where they had visited in Sumatra, and talked to Ahmad the owner of the guesthouse about details for our trek. After a long day of traveling we went to bed early, eager to rise the next morning and start our five night/six day jungle trek. In the morning we ate breakfast and met with our jungle guide and porter, both seemed very friendly and nice. The other three travelers were doing a one night trek in the jungle, which meant the first night we would all be camping together. We started our trek from the guesthouse. Ten minutes of walking on the main road from the guesthouse brought us to a dirt path where we ventured into the jungle. It wasnt long before we were completely submersed in absolute pristine jungle. The trees were enormous and varied greatly in variety. The weather was warm but the lush green canopy shaded us from the sun. Within 30 minutes of walking we spotted Thomas Leaf monkeys, gibbons, and macaques. The gibbons were the cutest of all the animals with teddy bear faces and long arms. Their quickness and agility made it a little difficult to watch them, but we caught a good glimpse of the adorable creatures. The Thomas Leaf monkeys flew through the trees. They would swing from branch to branch and drop twenty feet to the next limb on the tree. Their accuracy and jumping skills made them very entertaining to watch. The hike itself was a bit more challenging than we had expected with a lot of incline and muddy overgrown paths. Luckily we were given special leech socks to wear because Ryan and I each got three within a short period of time. Around midday we made it to camp. The campsite was next to a beautiful river where the sun was shining bright and hot through the clearing of the trees. At the camp sight our porter had our tent set up as well as a fire and all of our food supplies. Next to our camp was the campsite of the other three travelers who had a similar set up to ours. We were served coffee and a lunch of noodles, eggs, and veggies. After lunch we had an hour to hang out and swim. The water was refreshing after our long hike and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. We were over joyed by the experience so far, and grateful to have four more days of adventure. After lunch we went on another hike, this time the other three travelers joined us. Along the way we spotted three orangutans, a mom, baby, and adolescent. They were beautiful creatures! Their orange fur glowed in the green canopy. We stopped and watched them for over an hour. They were by far the most lively and interesting wild animals I have ever seen. Hanging by their feet they would swing their arms in an upside down dancing motion. At one point the mother and the adolescent were tossing the baby back and forth between each other.The baby looked so human like it was unreal. They were truly intelligent and fascinating creatures. The entire time we watched them, they looked at us with curiosity, getting closer but still keeping their distance. It was by far one of the coolest experiences I have ever had. Around 5pm we made our way back to camp where our porter was preparing our meal.Our guide set out a blanket on the ground and lit candles for us. We ate a delicious dinner of chicken, eggs, rice, and veggies, by candlelight under the starry jungle night.Everything was so perfect, it felt to good to be true. After dinner our guide offered to give Ryan and I massages. He started by giving me a back and neck massage, afterward he gave Ryan one. When he finished with Ryan he said he would give us both calf massages since we were sore from our long hike. He began to massage my lower legs until Ryan got up and went to the tent to get something, at this moment our guide stuck his hands down my pants and up inside of me. I was completely shocked and terrified. There was no way that his hand slipped. He was deliberately waiting for Ryan to walk away so he could touch me. I jumped up immediately and went to Ryan. After telling him what the guide had done, we stood there in silence in shock at what had happened. The day was so wonderful, we felt comfortable with our guide and we were having the time of our life. Why did such a wonderful day have to turn into such an uncomfortable and violating experience? After a while of talking it over we decided that we were going to have to end our trek early and go back the next day. Neither of us felt comfortable staying four more nights alone in the jungle with our guide, especially considering that the other hikers wouldnt be with us after tomorrow. We also didnt know what other intentions the guide had, and neither of us felt comfortable around him after that incident. We decided to go back to the tent and go straight to bed. The next morning Ryan talked to the guide and told him that we wanted to end our trek because of what happened the night before. Our guide apologized and said he was only trying to be nice and give us massages. He agreed to take us back to the guesthouse and he begged for Ryan not to tell his boss of the situation. The rest of the day was uncomfortable for Ryan and I. We hiked around the jungle with the other group and made it to a hotspring, but I didnt feel comfortable being in my swimsuit around our guide,so I sat out and watched as the others went in. We told the other travelers about what happened. After that they were very good about making sure both of our groups stayed together, so we were not hiking alone with our guide. Later that day we made it back to our guesthouse where the owner Ahmad asked us why we had ended our trip early. We took him aside and told him the story. He said nothing, his expression was blank. It was a very strange. Neither Ryan or I knew what to make of his reaction. After telling him he said nothing and did nothing, we stood there in silence for a moment, and then we said "Okay, well that is why we ended early", and we walked away to our room. We assumed that he was shocked and maybe when we checked out the next day he would apologize or offer us a discount, so we left it at that. Later that evening the other travelers that were on the hike with us asked if we would like to join them on a river rafting trip the next day. The rafting would start at 8am. We would raft for five hours until we reached the next town. At the end of our rafting trip our luggage would be driven to us, and we would then catch a bus from that town to our next destination; for Ryan and I, that next destination would be Beristagi. We agreed to the rafting trip, deciding it would be a nice way to end our jungle trek that was unfortunately cut short.
             The next morning we woke up bright and early for our rafting. We ate breakfast, packed our things, and went to pay our bill. When it was time to pay Ahmad asked us how much we wanted to pay for the jungle trek. I told him that I didnt think we should have to pay for the trek because of what happened, he thought that was ridiculous, and said that was not possible. After ten minutes of talking, negotiating, and telling him my point of view, we ended up paying for a one day trek. At the end of it all Ahmad never apologized or said anything about what had happened, it was very strange. The rafting trip turned out to be a blast. Some of the rapids were pretty intense, and the scenery along the way was breathtaking. Half way through we stopped at a sunny beach and had a picnic lunch of chicken and fried rice. When we ended our rafting trip we waited in teh small town of Kutacane for the pickup truck with our luggage to arrive. As we waited on the side of the road, many Indonesians stopped their motorbikes and ran over to us, asking to take pictures. It was such a funny experience, I felt like a celebrity. We must have taken over twenty pictures with random people, all of whom seemed in amazement by the fact that we were white. It really put things into perspective of how little travelers there are in Sumatra. When the truck came with our luggage it brought us to the bus stop, where we waited for a couple of hours for our bus to arrive. The wait felt extra long in the 100 degree humid weather. We were the only foreigners at the bus stop with a few other Indonesians and a group of ten young barefoot children who hung around us watching us, whispering things in Indonesian and laughing. The children were especially fascinated by me. For two hours straight they stared, laughed, and watched me. I offered them some of my peanuts but they didnt want any, I even took out a frisbee and tried to get them to play, but my friendly gestures only made them laugh. For the first time in my life I felt like a true foreigner, it was an experience to say the least. The bus ride to Beristagi was a long and bumpy one. Half way through the drive our driver stopped in a small town. At that point a new driver got into the driver seat, and our previous driver got on top of the minivan where our luggage was stored and rode the rest of the way ( 2hrs) to our next destination. The Indonesians in the van seem unphased by this, while us tourists kept looking out the window to the top of the car wondering why the hell he has sitting on the roof of the car in the pouring rain, as our new driver was speeing around corners flying through traffic. Around 8pm we finally made it to our guesthouse in Beristagi.

Culture Shock: the road to Ketambe

Entry Two:

The next day we caught a metered taxi to the taxi travel group recommended by our jungle trek guide. We handed the driver the printed out email from our guide with the taxi travel information and the driver said he could take us there. The 20 minute ride to our destination ended up taking 40 minutes. The crowded, chaotic, and overwhelming traffic in Medan was the icing on the cake. We came to the conclusion that we hated the city of Medan and that at all costs we would find a way to avoid going back as we leave Sumatra. After a while of driving around and stopping for directions, we learned that the place we were looking for had changed locations. Not wanting to be in the car any longer we told the driver to take us to our second option of taxi service which was in the area. When we were dropped off at the taxi service we were greeted by a toothless man with a beer belly. The Taxi service looked like a run down mechanic shop. The wet cement floor, ripped couches that looked like they came from the dump, and the darkly lit room with the strong smell of urine, made the place less than pleasing. If it wasnt for our jungle guide recommending the taxi service I probably would have tried to find a more professional smelling establishment, but our time was limited and our main goal was to get out of medan anyway we could. Our driver told us he would take us directly to our guesthouse in ketambe and that we would leave within twenty minutes. After two hours we finally left the rancid taxi shop and started the drive for ketambe. Our taxi was a 5 passenger mini suv, the driver and an Indonesian man in front, and an Indonesian woman with her toddler, Ryan and I all crammed in the back seat. After a couple of hours into the drive we stopped for lunch at a roadside muslim cafeteria eatery. It was at this moment that Ryan and I began to have some serious culture shock. When we arrived I had to use the bathroom badly, so ran into what I thought was the bathroom at full force ready to pull down my pants and do my business, until I realized I ran into a muslim prayer room where I caused a few heads to turn and disrupted the peace. When I finally saw the bathrooms they were marked “Wanita and Pria”, I had no idea which one was man and which one was women. Usually I would have chosen one not caring which was which, but in a Muslim country you dont want to make the mistake of walking in to the males bathroom. So I stood by, and luckily the Muslim women and her daughter came up behind and walked into the bathroom labeled “Wanita”. When I came out and joined Ryan and the table there were two tall glasses of water each one was sitting in its own small shallow bowl of water. I thought to myself, this is a strange way of serving water. Is the bowl suppose to be a saucer? If so good thing they put it under the cup because they spilled a lot of water in it already. Like a novice traveler I grabbed my cup of water and brought it to my lips, before I could take a sip Ryan stopped me and said I just had a sip and it is warm, I dont think it is for drinking. I looked around the cafeteria at the other Indonesians for clues on what to do. Their glass was out of their bowl, and they were dipping their fingers into their shallow bowl to wash their hands, then they would eat their food with their hands, and refill their shallow bowl with the cup of warm water and continue. Ryan and I both looked at each other and laughed, we felt stupid for our mistakes but at the same time found it comical, we are definitely not in Thailand anymore. Who would have thought that an hour and a half flight south to Indonesia would feel like a completely different world. After lunch we continued our 7 hour ride to our guesthouse in Ketambe. The drive was not an easy one, the roads had massive potholes, some were larger than the car, their were mountain slides that blocked half the road, and the drivers were absolutely crazy. In Indonesia there are no rules to the road, the only common principle that people seem to practice is honking. Everyone loves to honk for everything. Around every turn they honk before approaching the curve, during the curve, after the curve, they honk every time they pass someone, or drive around a small pothole. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that all times while driving on the road you can hear the blasting of horns from at least a dozen different cars at once. The drive to Ketambe was long, but it was a great way to get the true essence of Indonesian living Thailand is considered a third world country but after living in Thailand and visiting Indonesia, I think a more accurate description would be that Thailand is simple country living while Indonesia is truly a third world country. We drove through many towns where women and children were walking barefoot in the street with pots of water on their heads, Women were doing laundry in the river with their babies tied to their back. The houses were barely standing, propped up by bamboo posts, palm leaf roofs, and dirt floors. Children ran in packs, barefoot through the streets, entertaining themselves by having rubber tire races, and girls weaving baskets. Driving through these towns brought a sense of authenticity to traditional life. There aren't many places in the world where you can go without seeing the affect of modernization and technology. It was refreshing and wholesome sight to see. Some of the communities we drove through were in the middle of the country side tucked away from any store or business. Seeing these communities, and the people in them gathered together sitting in circles working on tasks like weaving, or unshelling cacao beans, made you really see how technology distances people and simple living is communal.

Medan: Crooks and Neurotic Honkers!

We arrived in Medan at 7:30pm from Bangkok. After grabbing our luggage and heading to the exit we were approached by a friendly man offering us a ride to our hotel. We told him the name of the place we were staying and he said he knew where it was and could give us a ride with his taxi service. We agreed to the ride and told him we needed to exchange money first, he told us he could take us to a money changer in downtown Medan where you could get better rates than the airport. So with ease we accepted his offer. It wasn't until we had been driving in his so called “taxi”, which was an unmarked car with his friend and wife, that we began to feel uncomfortable. He asked us multiple times how much money we were exchanging. The first time he asked we said we weren't sure we would decide at the money exchange. He said no problem and kept making friendly conversation, but then within the next twenty minutes he asked us about three more times how much money we were exchanging. He also asked us how we were planning on getting to Ketambe the next day for our trek. When I told him we already paid for a ride to ketambe he seemed a little upset because he wanted to get our business and drive us himself. The continuous asking of how much money we were changing, and wanting to know every detail of our trip left an uneasy feeling in our gut. When we arrived at the money exchange Ryan and I both had the same idea. We went to the back of the car, grabbed all of our things went into the exchange and told the man we no longer needed a ride. He kept insisting on giving us a ride, even though we told him we would get there on our own. As Ryan exchanged just enough money to pay the man for the ride, the driver stood next to him breathing down his neck trying to see how much money we had. After we paid the man for the ride, he left in a huff. We sat down feeling unsettled by the thought that the man might have robbed us if we continued our ride to the hotel. From the money exchange we caught a ride on a tiny motorbike with a side cart. In the pouring rain with a hundred pounds of luggage between the two of us, we finally made it to our hotel. After a while calming our nerves from our almost robbery and the dirty, chaotic, and dangerous city of Medan, we fell asleep to the hope that we could find peace and security at our next destination.