Maribaya

Thursday August 9 we had nice reliable warm showers in the morning at 7am. Luxurious. It's not that they're not usually available around here, it's just that we stay at the cheaper places that don't quite provide hot water that's really hot water. We debated staying in Ciwidey but saw some neat stuff in the guide book. There's a hike and a tea house to go to north of Bandung,.. leaving us a bit closer to the train station that if we had stayed in Ciwidey. So we hopped on the bus, yes, the bus, instead of a Bemo, and paid our 4,000 Rp a piece. We screwed up a little bit with our destination in Bandung but eventually did end up at the train station, which was a good thing because we were able to find out when the last train was running. We were gunning for 6:30pm. They had a baggage check at the airport so we didn't have to lug all our stuff on the day trip.

To get to Maribaya we could take a two sets of Bemos. One to Lembang and then one to Maribaya. The guy at the tourist info counter sugested we might try private transportation. We could be there in under an hour and pay 100,000 Rp, $11 or so. We could have haggled more or taken a nice AC taxi. Hmmm... We just wanted to get there so we piled into a van and off we were. "Alternative Route," says the driver, pointing at the traffic. Ok dude, no problem, flat fare. Your call. We go and go and go and after about 35 minutes we're going up some pretty steep roads and the little bus keeps stalling out. He tries and tries to make it up the hill and eventually give up after we're almost hit by a motorcycle that comes around the corner and spins out on some loose soil in the road. So we backtrack 15-20 minutes, presumably to take the original route.

Yay original route. Now we're getting somewhere. Eventually he pulls up to a Bemo and says something to the other driver. He pulls up in fron to the Bemo while somehow clipping the other vehicle. It was a nasty metal scratching noise. Ooops. He gestures for us to get out of his van and get into the Bemo. We were to pay him 50,000 Rp and 50,000 to the other driver. Uhm. We only went with him to get there faster and now he's trying to pawn us off on a regular Bemo that's already got passengers in it and is liable to get flagged down by anyone one the street. Not exactly express. The Bemo ride up to Lembang does not cost anywhere near 15,000 a person. We try to haggle down but they won't budge. The freeze at 7,000 per person. We might even have paid that much if the sitation hadn't put us on the defensive and feeling cheated. We aruged with these guys for a while. Went to another Bemo and they wouldn't give a fair price. We finally gave the driver 20,000... and that was being nice considering that he was trying to pawn us off at our high rate. Grrr... I asked some nice local ladies how much a ride to Lembang costs. 3,000 Rupiah. Word. We found a Bemo that was just leaving, and wasn't involved in the fray of price fixing for the Bules (Whiteys) and we were off at the fair rate. Kinda pissed but also feeling good about sticking to those guys.

Later we'd have a long conversation with Ali in Jakarta about the situation. She's often comfortable paying the inflated rate just because she and they know she has more money and the difference is a pittance to us. I agree in a way but I'd rather have them quote me the rate that every local on the street knows and then pay double to the driver after all is done. I think that's a nice way to do it for all parties involved. It's tipping, in effect. Tip more if you're richer. Pay what you feel is fair, not what someone else thinks is fair to you. Then again, have I been paying double for all my Bemo rides? No. But I haven't taken any since talking to Ali.

Anyway, we got to Lembang and had to catch an Angkot to Maribaya. We got the price from a lady on the Bemo and wandered to find the Angkot for 3,000 Rp. We talked people down from 7,000 to 4,000 with the rider that we'd leave right away. Sweet. Our Angkot was push-started by some other drivers and we were off... for about 100ft before it stalled out. No problem, the driver yelled something back and we had another ride within 2 minutes of trying to push him so he could try to pop the clutch a few more time. We made sure that we were still paying 4,000 Rp in the other Angkot and we were off.

Maribabya was a cute little resort area with scaped lawns, waterfalls, and little bridges. We we're feeling somewhat stressed and low on time after all the traveling. We quickly got on the path that leads to Dago, something like a 6km hike. Nick was all gung ho about going when Johanna and I got suckered into stopping for a grilled corn on the cob. Meh. We weren't sure when we'd get out next food... It didn't take terribly long and we were moving again.

The path was cobblestone. The occasional motorcycle would pass us. The plants had big leaves. Nick spotted a monkey. After some time we came upon the Dutch caves. It was really dark in there... they were orignally dug out to carry water to the other side of the mountain but acted as ammunition depots and a military radio installation through the war. There was kind of a mazo of rooms under the mountain. It was a nice break from the routine.

We soon happened upon Dago. We were trying to find the Dago Teahouse for lunch. The place was supposed to be easy to find once we got off the path. Either we screwed up and dindn't stay on the path long enough, or the guide book is just plain wrong. After more walking than we wanted to do and then a short Bemo ride we finally arrived and had some yummy yummy tea and some food that wasn't great but definitely better than the sketchy street food from the night before.

Bemo to the train station. We bought train tickets back to Jakarta on the 6:30pm train and had a little bit over and hour to kill. Nick made a call to Ali announcing that when we'd get there and then we want to find some beer and some fruit. There wasn't much fruit to be had but Johanna did find one stand where they were selling orangey type things and some other small fruits that we didn't know. They knew this and proceeded to demonstrate how to eat the other one. They're about the size of a large grape with a crunchy shell. You stick your finger nails in through the shell and peel it back to reveal an eye-ball looking substance on the inside. Big black see. It's probably related to Lychee. We called it the Eyeball Fruit. Ali got us some in Jakarta as well. I ate a lot of these. They're yummuy. I wish I could remember the name.

Walking back to the train station we went to the only place were we saw beer. We got to talking to the ladies out front. They were in high spirits and had giggled at us as we were walking past on the way to get fruit. Somehow we mentioned that I'm Johanna's sister and a few of them started pushing one of the younger girls forward towards me. Giggle Giggle. They had obviously been talking about me. It was pretty funny. We said Johanna and I were from America... Red/Blond hair. Light complexion. Then one of the ladies studies Nick for a bit and said "Mexican?" We had a good laught at that. After a photo and a little more chit-chat it was time to go. I didn't bring take the girl with me though that might have been perfectly acceptable. Oh, I did get cut off on the path by a woman that said "Take me with you" up at Maribaya. It was kind of joking, but probably also not. Anyway, we grabbed our beers and headed to wait for the train.

After that day I was the official Charismatic Megafauna of the group. Thanks for the term, Johanna.

The 4 hours train ride seemed like nothing after all those hours on Bemos. Reading and listening to music was super super nice. We got to Jakarta and went to try to find a taxi. It sucks arriving in a new place and not knowing where everything is. We were trying to find a Blue Bird taxi, the most reputable brand in Indonesia. We walked out and tried asking taxi drivers and of course all the independent guys are trying to do all they can to keep us away from where the Blue Bird cab stand actually is. They finally almost convince us to get into a different Taxi but then the driver told us it would be a flat fare of 40,000. "Meter?" we ask. "Broken." Oh boy, we walk away to regroup. Just wander around to see what's what and eventaully find the Blue Bird stand. It was 32,000 Rp to get to Ali's house.

Ali lives on the 34th (and highest) floor of a tower. When we got to her apartment the door was unlocked with no Ali in sight. We made ourselves comfortable and eventually she showed up. Her friend how had just moved in a few floors lower had just had a large flood in her apartment. In an attempt to turn on the water main for her apartment the handle came off and just started to shoot an uncontrollable stream of water into the apartment. Building maintenance finally got things under control but not before a lot of water went under neighboring doors. Oops. I helped mop up some of the water. Pity.

Ali had gotten us an assortment of fruit to try out. There was Eyeball Fruit which we'd already discovered. There was Sweet Garlic which looks like a bunch of arlic cloves when you break open the husk. The real winner was the Fly Larva Fruit. This one you bust into with your thumbs and you're greeted with a gelatinous mess of crunchy on the inside, gooey on the outside pulp sacs that look pretty disconcerting until you taste them. She had no Durian for us. I still haven't tried Durian. Meh. I'm actualy a little bit hesitant.

We slept well up there on the 34th Floor,.... until about 4:30 when the Call to Prayer began. From up high you can hear several distinctive mosques. It's quite the cacophony. Earplugs make it all go away.

Friday August 10 was a work day for Ali. She was gone before we got up but we planned to meet her at het Busway stop at 11am. We got up and Johanna made some eggs and toast for breakfast. Everyone was reveling in the ability to have access to a kitchen and being able to cook food just as you like it. Well, maybe I wasn't reveling as much but it was a nice break to eat our own food. We sort of had to work aroud the maid that cleans the place twice a week. She was nice and had no problem sweeping up around your feet and stuff. We got going a bit late to catch the bus to Ali's work but we got there ahead of schedule anyway. The dedicated lane bus system works pretty well. There are intersection stops from time to time but all in all it's a lot faster than endlessly weaving through tight traffic. To get on you take the pedestrial overpasses to the middle of the road and then pay 3,500 Rp to get into the waiting area. The system is a lot like the TransMillenio in Bogota, Colombia and I experienced the same payment system in Quito, Ecuador as well, just without the dedicated lanes.

Ali picked us up at the station and guided us back to her office at the Department of Agriculture. She's a veterinarian who does Avian Influenza work all over Indonesia... a lot of education of local vets. A lot of logistics. It was Batik day at the office, everyone was looking quite dapper. Friday is always Batik day and all the men leave for the Mosque for two hours at noon. Apparently this leaves the market and restaurant nice and empty and a good place to frequent on Fridays while the men pray. We brought lunch back and talked about cockroaches and things... Johanna and Nick headed out soon thereafter while I stayed behind to use the internet for a while.

When I left I found myself in an elevator. There was a sea of Batik 2 feet below m eyes. 5 women and 2 men occasionally sneaking peeks at the freakishly tall Bule with the funny hair that was on their regular friday afternoon elevator at the Jakarta Department of Agriculture Building.

I don't remember the rest of the evening. I think we stayed in and cooked and generally just took it easy.