Today, I COOKED dhal for the first time in at least a year and a half. It needed to have more
salt, spices and water (I'm a budget traveller, remember!) and the experiment with tomatoes caused
an unsavoury clash of flavours. It was edible nonetheless.
Anyway, here are the next two days of Indonesia...
SATURDAY 1 JULY
Dede later told me that he was planning to take me to a hot spring that but I didn’t wake up early
enough, waking at about 9am. Damn! Following a warm glass of milk we went out for breakfast. I’d
told him about being a vegetarian so it took some time to find a place where I could eat.
Eventually settled for Gado-Gado.
We – Dede, his son and I – went out for the day in Dede’s motorbike. Dede has two cute and very
friendly kids – a son of five and a daughter of three. They were great and I really loved playing
with them! Even though they couldn’t get any sense out of me (no Indonesian, remember!), they kept
wanting to talk. They must’ve thought I, an adult, was so weird for not being able to understand
nor speak their language!
We first went to the house where the talks leading to the official transfer of power to an
Independent Indonesia took place. It was pretty interesting. Once upon a time I didn’t have much
interest in history at all but travelling sure broadens your mind. Now, I’m probably as much
interested in history as mathematics!
After Zuhr we went to a park where we did a spot of fishing. Jahid, I believe Dede took you there
too, but whereas you had the time to catch three unfortunately I only caught one! It was quite
fun. I should do it more often. And, Inshallah, I will when I get back to England.
Next we went to the top of a hill, had lunch and talked about anything from teaching English and
mathematics to the unfortunate situations in Kashmir and Ambon.
After a short stop at his house we went to the school where he teaches English. It’s a private
madrasah for 11-18 year old boys and girls. The set up looked very good. They often get graduates
going to the prestigious Makkah, Madinah and Al-Azhar universities.
Soon after arriving at the school, Dede asked me if I was married. On hearing the answer he asked,
in his unique way, whether I’d like to marry one of the teachers at the school! After Asr, talked
to one of the other English teachers, a graduate of Madinah, who mentioned that they were short of
English and maths teachers and asked me if I’d be interested. Dede had talked about the
possibility of me teaching there also. I was very tempted and may return there in a couple of
year’s time.
You know, I often ask myself what I want from life. I want to teach maths; I want to teach English
to non-native speakers; I want to teach in an Islamic school; I want to live abroad (meaning not
Bangladesh nor the UK) where I’d be different from everybody else; I want to live in a small
village; I want to live in warm climate; I want to marry an Islamic, educated and beautiful woman.
And in Manislor, all these seemed possible. I was very tempted to start that idyllic life but
something of course held me back. Can you guess what that is?
Well, I love travelling too much. A teacher’s salary in Indonesia, though is reasonably
comfortable within the country, won’t be enough to travel around the world. Not enough by a lot.
But, Inshallah, I will return to Manis one day.
Anyway, we returned to Dede’s house, in the rain, for dinner, after which went to Jahid’s
mother-in-law’s house in Cilimus, the next village. She doesn’t speak English; I speak very little
Indonesian. But we managed to have a reasonable conversation! Very hospitable family you’ve
married in to, Jahid! Returned to Dede’s house after some refreshments and slept.
SUNDAY 2 JULY
On Saturday, Dede found out that there was a train for Wonosobo leaving Cirebon at 10:10. And so,
saying goodbye to his wife and kids, we arrived at the station accordingly but only to be told
that train doesn’t actually go to Wonosobo but rather goes to Purwokerto and one has to catch a
bus from there. So we went to the bus station to see if I could catch a direct bus to Wonosobo.
There were direct buses but none leaving before 1pm. Returned to the train station.
It was 10:30am but the train was now expected to depart at 11:10am. I bought a business class
ticket (only in Indonesia can I afford such luxuries!) and waited. And waited, and waited, and
waited. And then some more.
You see, there was an accident up ahead and so everything was moving very slowly. I waited more.
At about 12:30pm, a train pulled up from the platform next to ours and was heading East, the right
direction for me. Dede, the local boy, asked a guard about it’s destination and guess what, itt
was on it’s way to Purwokerto! My train! And of course it was too late to catch it!
The next train came at 2pm but this had no business class carriages! But more than that nowhere to
sit nor stand, besides the little area between two carriages and next to the toilet and the open
doors. Even there it was jam-packed. (We are talking about the ‘goat-train’ in an island as
densely populated as Bangladesh, you know!). So there I was, squeezed by the toilet on the
goat-train holding a business class ticket!
It was meant to take 3 hours to Purwokerto. It took six. Following the accident, I think all the
trains were running on one set of tracks and so our train kept having to wait in line for others
to pass. In the beginning I found it quite frustrating but the locals all seemed to be in good
humour ( I can imagine other countries, especially the Indian subcontinent ones, where the
attitudes would’ve been totally different) and that brightened my mood. I was even probably
enjoying it after that. It was good stuff!
Arrived in Purwokerto at about 8pm. A passenger, who could see that I wasn’t a local, advised that
I go to Wonosobo the following day, but, on this whirlwind tour, I couldn’t afford to wait. Asked
a station staff, who asked me where my friend was and found it very surprising to hear that I was
travelling alone, how to get to the bus station for Wonosobo. He arranged a motorcycle taxi to
take me to there.
Had to hang around at the station for a while before forcing myself on to a bus for Wonosobo. Yes,
I said ‘force’ for buses to Wonosobo at that time of the night (10pm) are few and far between but
no shortage of people wanting be board it! It was a mad rush and I had doubts as to whether I’d be
able to get on but used all my energy to push myself in. (Java : 7% of land; 60% of population.)
Arrived in Wonosobo at about 11:45pm and straight away booked in to a hotel (with hot water, the
first time since Singapore). Sleep soon followed, despite the Italy v France Euro 2000 Final,
after an attempt at trying to eat dinner.
It was an intense day of travelling and though during the journey at times I agonised over not
being able to get on the business class train, as soon as I arrived in Wonosobo I was glad that
I’d missed the train! It was quite an experience, one that gives you confidence and is great to
look back on. It was one of the most intense train journeys. The way I figure is “whatever that
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”.
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