The only other boat in the anchorage in Damar, Indonesia

Sailing Faith: The Long

Way Home

Rani (foreground) and Eti became close friends with Emily and Amanda

The Gregg A Granger

Family Adventure

Harvesting cloves from tall, bamboo ladder in Damar

Indonesia

We struggle to draft a concept of Indonesian culture, and in the end, realize the futility of it.  The only constant, spanning all areas of Indonesia, is the government; though progress is being made to unite the more populated areas with a common tongue: Bahasa Indonesia.  Indonesia has no dominant culture, but instead provides a national bond that attempts to unite hundreds, maybe thousands of disparate cultures; cultures with less in common than all western nations have with each other.
What we find is an enchanting land struggling for an identity between ancient and modern cultures – ancient cultures with individual identities on each island group, or on larger islands, identities separated by terrain, and a modern culture with some elements attempting to maintain tradition, some attempting to maintain a cohesive nation, and some attempting to move the nation towards production on a global scale, all overlaid with outside influences successfully extracting Indonesia’s profits.

Saumlaki

Our time here is emotional.  Something is happening just under the surface in each of our lives, an urging to scratch deeper into our fundamental beliefs about whom we are and why we’re here.  We can’t know it now, but the struggles we’re grappling with are social, and will follow us, with varying degrees of saliency, for two years until we reemerge in Western society with our perspectives rearranged.

The cruising guides speak of bribes the officials will extract, given the opportunity.  The western press never lets much time lapse between stories of bombings in Bali, or Muslim terrorism in general.  Piracy is continually addressed in sailing periodicals.  Only days earlier, we safely sat at the dock in Australia, feeding on misinformation.

Before we even began this journey, many people told us:

You know, a lot of the places you’re going don’t value human life like we do.

We found quite the opposite in Indonesia.

Damar

We walk past mat after mat of drying cloves on our way to the village chief’s house where we’re welcomed by his wife and told that he is in Ambon.  She serves us some strong, smoky coffee and some several day-old donuts, which Greggii seems to like.  While visiting, she rummages nervously through books and stacks of paper until she produces a letter.  We watch as our host unfolds the envelope, and see that it holds her shattered heart.  She asks us to send it to her daughter, Miss Dina Cecelia Andersen, Bismard Street 2500, Okland, America, an incomprehensible address. 

We ask for more information, hopefully without betraying our doubts, but Bismand Street 2500, Okland, America, is all she has left of Dina Cecelia. 

Makassar

Budi and I ride his motorcycle to pick up our completed passports, and my eyes get a good dust and smog burn.  There are a few simple rules to driving in Indonesia and nobody follows them.  In Indonesia, especially the larger, denser traffic areas, it seems the general rule is to win.   The horn plays an important role when borrowing part of a lane from oncoming traffic, and is always politely acknowledged by horns of the oncoming traffic.  Most amazing about the driving in Indonesia is that nobody really cares what the other guy does.  I read somewhere that Indonesian driving is like a school of fish.  No fish swim in a straight line, but they don’t bump into each other either; every fish moves to let the other fish move.  There’s no frustration, just a bunch of people with smiles or dust masks on their faces, enjoying their rides.  Road rage would be a difficult concept to explain here.

Girls in Saumlaki showing Amanda the craft of weaving

Teaching at the school in Saumlaki

The pasar - market - this one in Kumai could be anywhere

Cloves on Damar, drying in the sun

Many children greet us when we land on Damar

A water taxi in Banjarmasin, Kalimantan

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Kumai

Orang is Bahasa Indonesia for person, and utan is forest; orangutan – person of the forest.

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