Insurmountable Sumatra

By boldly approaching mere strangers, I made my first friends in Medan, Indonesia's third largest city. Flustered after the trip from hell, see previous blog entry, I asked two girls eating at a restaurant about cheap accommodations. The Women were most helpful and one of them even led me to a nearby guest house. After checking into the Blue Angel, I joined the new acquaintances for dinner and as sole female travelers, we shared stories and bonded over the difficulties of traveling alone. I also picked up some insightful information about traveling in Sumatra, an island almost the size of France, as well as a traveling partner. Kate and I would make our way to Lake Toba, four hours south of Medan. The following day, a private seven person taxi took us on a wild, opposite lane changing ride as the road raged driver dared other cars and buses on a seemingly never ending game of chicken. Concerned for our safety and for the car sick woman sitting on the back seat, we asked numerous times for the driver to slow down but to no avail. Dizzy but in awe, we scaled the winding road that snaked around the volcano to see the still blue waters at its mouth. Danau Toba, is the largest lake in southeast Asia. At the Lake's center, floats Samosir island, where the Batak people welcome backpackers in Tuk-Tuk with their smiling round faces, tantalizing Tuak, palm tree liquor, and their extremity coordinating dances. Once at our desired destination, we spent a relaxed four days swimming in the sulfuric water, breathless from the panoramic vistas. In Tuk-Tuk, I made more friend to share Bintang beers with and even learned to drive a motor bike as the local children laughed at the staling engine. It was with a heavy heart that I parted ways not only with my new friends but with enormous Lake Toba. But on to new destinations I went where fury orange friends awaited me in Bukit Lawang.

From curious orangutans to the relaxing shores of Pulau Weh, a tiny island where hilly beach bungalows sigh for the return of the convivial tourists that were driven off by the 2004 tsunami and political unrest, Sumatra has much to offer. But given its sheer size, my time limitations, and the many other exotic corners of Indonesia waiting to be explored by yours truly, I must say adieu to north Sumatra after only two weeks. So goodbye insurmountable Sumatra or perhaps until next time.

Travel Turmoil

On August 7th I boarded an Air Egypt flight out of Mumbai; destination Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. After arriving, I was comforted by the fact that I would be spending the night in a fancy Malaysian airport. As I searched for my Penang flight leaving the next morning, I was a bit disconcerted. No where on the screens did I see my flight number. After asking the information desk, I was told to go a different terminal 15 minutes away, where the budget airline AirAsia.com chartered their flights. Hot Malaysian air hitting my face, I stared out the taxi window excited. But oh was the terminal really meant for budget travel. The small terminal was packed with people sitting outside on the concrete or laying on metal benches. Why did they not sit inside the AC terminal where there were chairs?, I wondered. But the people claiming an outside spot, I later found out, were the smart experienced budget travelers. Once inside the terminal, I settled in a corner on the floor with my blanket and book. Immersed in my reading, I was startled by an airport official escorting people out. Apparently, the terminal closes for a few hours in the middle of the night, to prevent budget travelers like my self, from squatting in the airport. For the first time in my life, I felt close to being homeless. All the benches outside were taken and so I sat on the concrete, leaning against the wall, internalizing the absurdity of the situation, half laughing, half crying. After four hours I was allowed back into the airport to wait another 3 hours for my flight. Finally on the one hour flight, I thought the rest of my trip would go smoothly. But boy was I wrong. Once in Penang, no one seemed to have any idea about the ferry going to Belawan, near Medan, Indonesia. So I hopped on a public bus to the main port in hopes of finding a boat to my final destination. After an hour bus tour of Penang, an island off the west coast of Malaysia, I ran to the ferry ticket office only to find out that I had just missed the boat by half an hour. I was incredulous, pissed off, defeated. Was God testing my resolve? Why hadn’t I taken the direct flight to Medan? Dazed and confused I walked the streets of, isn't it ironic? Little India, in search of accommodations/cheap flights. After visiting a few travels agency, I realized that flying to Medan would be the cheapest, quickest option so I was scheduled on an evening flight. Back at the bus stop I waited for nearly an hour only to see the bus turn the street before reaching my stop. Angry and with tears flooding my eyes, I ran a few blocks anticipating the bus route to barely catch it with loud banging on it as it pulled away. Once at the airport, I waited for another four hours, almost passing out from fatigue and no longer proud of my sense of adventure. Thinking shit could not hit the fan any worse, it splash me in the face with a flight delay. So after some deep breathing and stretching, I was on to my final destination: Indonesia. Once in the Medan airport, I smiled as I was taken to the money changer outside because the visa office machine would not take my wrinkled up dollars. Hit me with your worse Indonesia, I thought, for Malaysia had just spanked me in public. After the short inconvenience, I was on the streets of Medan asking other backpackers about cheap accommodations. Saved by the Blue Angel, for that was the name of the Guest House, I showered and finally slept.

Indian Inequalities

While visiting Bandra last week, I was disgusted by the extreme inequalities in Mumbai, India. Its incredible how someone can trample on, spit on, or ignore the extreme suffering of not only a another human being but a fellow country man. How can the filthy rich, oh and I mean filthy, sit in their Malabar Hill mansions, Bollywood worthy Bandra condos, or their exclusively owned gated communities of Hari Andani, without feeling the least bit of remorse? In order to live with such disregard, one must dehumanize or make the poor and helpless invisible. But how can the haves not see entire families of four or more lining the sidewalks; sleeping huddle together with their children in the middle so as to shelter them from the night breeze? The desperate cries of a destitute baby are so weaken by hunger that they do not reach them, sitting high up in their penthouses. They avoid walking a few blocks to their neighborhood train stations, for with personal drivers and AC cars with tinted windows, why would they take public transportation. But as they drive by Bandra Station, how can they ignore the crippled, old and young alike who are starving, begging for their next meal while rolling in agony in their own feces? But even when a few, skinny and dirty, wander to their doorsteps, escaping the eye of a snoozing security guard, they look blankly past them or shoo them off as you would a dog. The lack of apathy here scares me to death. How can someone look at human suffering in the face of a swollen bellied child while eating a sandwich and sneer, moved by disgust rather than compassion. These Indian inequalities are the most shocking in big cities such as Mumbai, where millions of dollars apart, people co-exist within a few blocks radius; some sleeping on down pillows and comforters while others on the cold concrete. I will not deny that inequality exists all over the world, in our own countries, but not like this. I consider myself to be well traveled, over 20 countries in all, but never have I seen such pronounced decadence and despair. I can not help but to feel alarmed. What kind of a world do we live in that allows over 1/4 of the population in India to live on less than $1 a day while rent in a Bandra condo starts at $1000 per month? And we participate in this debauchery, acquiring more and more material possessions; our greed insatiable. I dare you to challenge this unjust social order because living in extremes benefits no one and in the words of MLK, an injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.