28 September 2012 - Kupang, Timor, Indonesia

A very busy day after a bad night's sleep with the cacophony of the muezzin waking us at 4am with multiple speakers blasting various chants, prayers, & announcements at ear-splitting levels, even on the boat. It lasted for hours. Added to that was the seemingly constant passing of fishing boats in the night with their unmuffled one-cylinder engines going putt-putt-putt. If they pass close by, which they usually do out of curiosity to see our strange vessel up close, it sounds like they're in our cabin.

BB was up before me & had gotten the internet working after a frustrating time trying to get it working last nite.

Our agent, Napa, called at 9 & said he had our fuel on the beach. We loaded the diesel-covered jerry jugs into poor Plover, already filthy from the kids playing in him on the beach. Again, Lambertus, with only one crippled leg & a crutch, helped carry jugs & launch the boat. What an amazing guy. He & Napa came with more jugs in a paddle canoe, & came aboard for a visit under our lovely big awning. I asked Napa some important Indonesian words to add to our bathroom mirror language learning center.

Another boat arrived, a Wharram named Natural High. We contacted them on Napa's behalf, then Napa & Lambertus went to their boat while we began the long process of fueling.

We took the jugs back to Lambertus' house, then began our afternoon of errands. We went to the bank to get smaller bills, since we'd discovered that no one ever has change. We were ushered into a back room where a woman was counting money. There were stacks of bills all over the desk. We were given 3 big stacks in exchange for a million rupiah in 100,000 bills. Those 3 big stacks of money represent just over a hundred dollars. Crazy.

We walked until we came upon a restaurant which turned out to be Teddy's Bar & BBQ, which we'd read about. Lunch for about $2 was a big scoop of rice with 3 spicy sides. All good, except the chicken, which was just flavorful bones.

We returned to the police station where the cop on duty had told us to come back at 2 so he could go home & get a patch to trade. He sat at his empty desk with the patch in a plastic bag in front of him. There was another cop there who really wanted a patch too, but I had only brought one. Nonetheless, he happily jumped into the photo with us. I was pleased to be able to manage that exchange despite the lack of a common language. It was all done with hand gestures.

Around the corner we saw eggs for sale & had a very nice exchange with the shop owner & his father in halting English. They coveted our plastic egg carriers.

We walked a long way in the hot sun to the veggie market, which was immense, but fairly deserted. We had bypassed fruit & avocados in the street carts thinking there'd be more selection at the market, but it was only veggies, coconuts, rice, beans, tofu & sundry other items. No lettuce to be seen, but lots of leaves that might be iwi; however, no way to ask. We now know the Indonesian numbers, but fingers still help to communicate the amounts.

Took a bemo back with our heavy bags & probably paid too much, but it's such a small amt of money anyway: 2,000 rupiah = about 23c each for a bemo ride. The bemos are designed for the small Indonesian people, so I feel like I take up more than my share of space inside.

For dinner we went to the Night Market, where stalls are set up in the street, & had grilled fish, shrimp kebabs, & outstanding satay chicken. Since even the locals don't drink the water, we had a fruit smoothie anytime we were thirsty; less than a dollar, & delicious. It's cheaper & easier to eat ashore than to buy food at the vegetable market (not knowing the Indonesian words for what we sought was a barrier to finding basic items like onions), so in contrast to our life in the Pacific, I think we'll be eating out much more now.

Too bad about the spotty phone connection, but at least I got to talk to M&D for a few minutes when we returned to the boat. It was nice to hear their voices, even if I missed about half of what they said. And it is awfully nice to be able to call from the cell on the boat, but if the connection is no better in Komodo, I'll try to call from shore somewhere, if the ancient system of a land-based telephone still even exists.

Yes, this is what I dreamed of. How wonderful to be able to go ashore & be fully immersed in the culture, but then have the option of returning to our little island of luxury, set up just how we like it, with all our stuff, our comforts, & our privacy. And I don't hafta carry it around on my back all day. This is such a better way to travel. I'm not sorry I did the backpacking thing; it was a fabulous experience in so many ways; but at this stage of my life, this is more fitting & it makes me much happier. I’m a very lucky girl.

says ADR