Village Life

Yesterday we went to a traditional Indonesian village. We were standing by the side of the road, trying to figure out where the bus-stop was, when a car pulled up. Two men stepped out and offered to take us there. Their names were Elfis and Nobbi. We got in the car and headed up through a bumpy, winding road, while Elfis and Nobbi watched music videos by this elderly Christian guy. They seemed to have an endless supply of them. We eventually ended up at the foot of a steep hill, which we trudged up, ending up at a small village of traditional houses with thatched roofs and no walls. We were greeted by the village leader, who dressed in original garb and showed us his spears, machete, and bow and arrows. We were then led to where the women had set up their various necklaces, bracelets and baskets for sale. They were all basically the same thing, and most of them showed signs of being produced in a factory. My mum however, bought four baskets that we didn't actually need, and my dad bought a wooden spoon. It was interesting to see just how isolated they were. They had their own pigs and chickens, and they grew most of their own food. After we had been waved off, we took Elfis and Nobbi out for lunch. For the five of us to have huge lunches, plus drinks, only cost about eight dollars. The food was quite spicy, to me, but I soldiered on, until being informed that this was 'mild' for Indonesia. After being dropped off near the harbour, Elfis asked for money. We had paid for gas and food, and they hadn't said anything about money at first. We had hoped they were just being friendly, and showing their country to foreigners. Despite that, we had had a wonderful day and it was fascinating to learn about the traditional lifestyle. (My dad also bought a machete at from a market on the way home, for chopping up coconuts, and declared that it made him feel 'manly').

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Visiting the Alors

Today, we are heading to Alor Island, part of the Alor archipelago. We plan to spend six weeks slooooowly heading up to Bali. We have about fifteen or sixteen travel days. When we were sailing up the coast of Australia, we were moving every day. But now, we're going to spend roughly four weeks just lazing about. Scuba diving, snorkelling, swimming, hiking, exploring, talking to locals, going to markets . . . These are all things we just didn't have time for, in Australia. We had a normal life, school, work, circus and friends took up all our time. We had such a wonderful time in Australia, but I'm really excited about this new part of our voyage. The area of the archipelago that we're going to is newly protected by the locals, and is just taking off as a scuba diving spot. There are also several traditional villages that we're hoping to visit. We have about a week in the Alor Islands, which to me sounds like an insane amount of time. It should be fun though, and I'm looking forward to exploring Indonesia.

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First Impressions of Indonesia

First Impressions of Indonesia

Walking the streets of Kupang for the first time was interesting, shocking and wonderful. As me and my tall parents passed the crowds of small Indonesians, loads of the boys or young men whistled and shouted. At first we thought it was because we were the only white people in the mass of people. But we soon realised that they weren’t talking to us. They were talking to my legs and my mum’s cleavage. I was wearing my usual outfit, shorts and a t-shirt. My mum was wearing a long dress that wouldn’t be considered low-cut in Australia, but it was here. Together, we scandalised the town.



Today, I wore a knee length dress with a highish neck-line. My mum wore a similar one. We still got some shouts, but people were talking to us. They were looking at our faces and asking our names. They would touch our hair and smile happily. And it made me feel like dirt. I completely understand the need to be respectful of other people’s cultures and religions, but when people think that the way I dress influences me as a person? That confuses me so much. I dress to be comfortable in the heat. I dress in a way that makes me feel good about myself. However, when I show my legs or shoulders and that makes people view me as if in exposing my body, they somehow own me, that makes me embarrassed and angry. It seems as if in wearing shorts, my body becomes separate from me. I also think, that if they want to stare at me and judge me for my un-modest outfit, that says more about them then it does about me. I wish I could be someone who laughs it off. But I’m not. It hurts when people judge me and shout and whistle. I’m thirteen. I’m still a kid. And I don’t want to have to think first about how others will see me if I wear a particular outfit.

Two Fish

TODAY I CAUGHT TWO FISH!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!! I KNOW!!!!!!!! Seeing as the last fish I caught was a three inch long sunfish when I was 7, I’m pretty proud. We’re in Alcaro Bay and we’ve stopped for a day. Not because it was windy, not because we had to repair something but because we met a lovely couple who encouraged us to stay. Their names were Ted and Des and when we arrived in the anchorage, they promptly zipped over in their dinghy to tell us about Darwin and give us advice. We joked about running out of food but it turned out they had stocked up for six months and insisted we come for breakfast. I think we might have eaten an entire pig. There were sausages and pork chops and bacon and hash browns, baked beans, toast and eggs. Impressive. 

We went to shore to walk off our breakfast and when we came back all of fifteen minutes later; Ted and Des were fishing and had already caught about fifteen fish. There were a few big fish which they kept and lots of medium ones that they tossed back or flung on shore for the big sea eagles which inhabited the shore. When they tossed fish on shore, an eagle would swoop down immediately and, not stopping, grasp the fish in its talons and fly away to enjoy its treat in privacy. They offered to let me try so I thought what the heck, might as well. 

Now, I’ve always been the bad luck fisherman. When I’m around, nobody catches anything. My mum’s the same. So, naturally I was surprised when 20 seconds after tossing my line in, I caught a fish (Wooo-hoooooo!!). Excitement. After about five more minutes I caught the biggest fish of the day. I named it Doris. Doris was a goodly fish. She was about 6 pounds. After chopping off Doris’s head, my mum spotted a mud crab. A big one. Ted and Des claimed it was tiny but I don’t believe them. Ted grabbed his weighted throwing net thingamajig and after a few tries, caught it. And immediately gave it to us, because apparently, they were sick of crab. So we got three fish and a crab and a wonderful friendship which sounds really soppy and sentimental but I don’t care. So, good day.