On the road again

The last 3 weeks have seen the intrepid Sulawesi team embark on another whirlwind tour of the cocoa sites to complete round 1 of the data collection for the cocoa project. This visit has been sandwiched between two important family events requiring trips back to Melbourne: Miles turning 21 and Rosie moving out of home for her first proper job, in Sydney.

Here’s a map of where our travels have taken us since touching down again in Makassar at the end of March.

Wotu, in the northeast, is the closest place Google Maps will recognise to the village of Tarengge, where the Mars research plantation is located. On the northwest coast “Jalan Ahmad Yani” is actually the proper location of Majene, which Google places about 100 km further north. This problem stems from the fact that cities and towns often have the same names as the districts (kecamatan) they lie within. For Victorians, it's like having a town called Gippsland located in Gippsland. It’s something that has caused us a fair bit of confusion when we've asked our drivers "How far to X?", and they reply "Oh, we're already in X".

Returning to familiar places, reconnecting with familiar people, feeling my Indonesian coming more easily — all these things have helped to make this trip more relaxed, despite the business-like pace we have set. Sulawesi is feeling a lot more doable!

Thanks to the cocoa project, we had the services of their driver Anwar for the first part of the trip, so took the opportunity to do a little bit of sightseeing along the way. From Makassar we headed north via Bantimurung National Park, which is famous for a formidable waterfall, limestone caves and butterflies. British naturalist Alfred Wallace spent time in the area, apparently referring to it as “Kingdom of the butterflies”. Unfortunately, most of the beautifully coloured butterflies that you now see in the park are dead under glass, for sale to tourists. Apparently there is a breeding program to try to reintroduce some of the lost species.

On a brighter note, the river is a great place to cool down on a hot day. The day we visited there were lots of teenagers hanging out — young boys testing their bravado under the cascade, girls tubing in the quieter lower reaches — and families with young kids having picnics.

Downstream

Sue and young dudes testing their bravado at Bantimurung.

Here, as elsewhere, we are instant celebrities and pose for numerous photos. "Satu lagi!" ("One more!") is the usual request, as personnel and line-ups change. It's hard to believe that these young people could get any Facebook "likes" for posting photos with a couple of grey-haired Aussies, but who knows ...

We stopped overnight in Palopo, where we opted for the $17 a night Hotel Risma over the $45 a night Platinum. An interesting feature of the Risma is that the rooms have no windows to the outside; they all open off a central lounge, so the view is of other guests smoking. Also, like a couple of other ‘budget’ places we have stayed, the beds come with a fitted sheet and a blanket. Having been caught out before, we now carry our own top sheet which is usually all that’s needed.

In Tarengge we caught up with some of the Mars people we met on our February trip. Sue and I spend three days gathering data on the Mars trial plantation and a nearby farm, rain clouds helping to keep it cooler one day but the other days still ridiculously hot and humid by 11 am. Often we seem to be the only ones out in the sun (mad dogs and Australians …). 

There was a slightly sickening moment when we discovered that some of the special botanists’ tagging tape we had used to tag affected branches on the cocoa trees had been eaten by insects and was almost falling off, so we had to improvise backup tags to try to ensure there will still be something there when we come back in June!

Pod examination at Mars, Tarengge

Leaving Tarengge we detoured off the main road to try to find the coastline. A few kilometres down the road we come to a small fishing village where a group of women are untangling seaweed from the nets used to harvest it, to be used to make agar agar they told us. We are at the top of the Bay of Bone, somewhere as far off my mental world map as I can imagine. The sand is black and the water is the temperature of a bath.

Standing on the top of the bay ... of Bone

Our next destination was Pinrang and Anwar told us the quickest route was via Rantepao in Tana Toraja, so once again we got a tantalising taste of Sulawesi’s most famous region in passing. This time we stopped for more than coffee, though. Anwar took us to the village of Ke’te Kesu’, which has become a tourist park, so I’m unsure whether people still live there or not. Regardless, there are a series of large impressive family tombs ... and more.

The village of Ke’te Kesu’

As we climbed the steps set into the face of the limestone cliff we passed cave tombs and disintegrating coffins spilling out crazy jumbles of bleached bones and skulls. Above our heads were other coffins held by beams set into the cliff face, in various states of dilapidation. Occasionally, skulls and bones must literally fall out of the sky.

Crumbling coffins, boxes of bones

For people who put such a high cultural emphasis on farewelling the dead in elaborate and expensive funeral ceremonies, Torajans seem to have a strange indifference for their remains beyond the grave. Obviously, there’s a lot more to be learnt about this, and I’m looking forward to spending some time doing that and trekking in these mountains later in the year.

In Pinrang we once again stayed at the crazily Bollywood-style Permata Hotel. Anwar left us there to head back to Makassar, but by now we were starting to get the hang of arranging transport in Sulawesi: basically, stand around by the side of the road and you'll be offered a ride. In this case, the hotel owner made a phone call that provided us with two guys who became our ojeks (motorbike taxis) for the next few days. They in turn knew another guy with a car who provided the transport for the next leg — back to Polewali.

The over-the-top Permata Hotel in Pinrang. BYO sheet and sunglasses.

Having written before about the joys and sorrows of Polewali (see Postcards from Polewali #1 and 2), I won’t go into too much detail this time, except to say:

• Yes, we stayed at the Ratih Hotel again. The idea of staying out in the village of Beluak is still attractive, but we were working to a tight schedule and the lure of air-con, a pool and wi-fi was too strong. [Does that sound weak and pathetic?]
• Village life did seem as charming as ever. We spent a very pleasant couple of days traipsing around Pak Syukur’s cocoa farm — essentially his backyard — drinking coffee with him and his wife, and being dinked to and from town by his sons Aswal and Iqbal.

With one more cocoa location to visit, about 30 km further up the highway at Sumarrang, we decided to shift our base from Polewali (not surprised?) and push on to Majene, which would be new territory for us, with only a 25 km trip back to Sumarang. We had heard good things about Majene, including the tantalising fact that there is a beach with white sand. It turned out to be a great decision (stay tuned for "Postcard from Majene").

Words of the week

Indonesians love a good acronym. Here are a few local ones:

Tator: Tana Toraja

Sulsel: Sulawesi Selatan (South Sulawesi)

Sulbar: Sulawesi Barat (West Sulawesi)
Sulselbar: I'm sure you can guess that one
Calpres: Calon presiden (presidential candidate)

Links

Bantimurung National Park

http://notesofnomads.com/bantimurung-national-park-indonesia/

Ke’te Kesu’, Tana Toraja

http://www.indonesia.travel/en/destination/749/the-ancient-village-of-ke-te-kesu-in-the-heart-of-the-toraja-highlands

Sue's blog
http://3-degrees-south.blogspot.com

© 2014 Steve Dobney

Finding Sugar Man in Anreapi

During our 3 days in Polewali we visited the desa (village) of Beluak in the Anreapi district a couple of times. It's about 10 k out of town towards the surrounding hills.

The village itself is very pretty, with traditional South Sulawesi houses (raised up on poles) lining both sides of the street. At the home of the head farmer, Pak Arifin, the kids were busy painting a length of low bamboo fencing in blue and white paint. Looking around, most of the other houses nearby were sporting freshly painted front fences, all blue and white, about half a metre high, and people were generally busy making their street frontages look pretty. We asked about the reason for all the activity, and it turns out there was the local equivalent of a Tidy Town competition coming up, and the residents of Beluak were keen to take out the trophy. 

Beluak main street

In front of Pak Sakur's house was a traditional raised platform (balai balai) with a roof, which is a great place to hang out and watch the passing action (perhaps a stray goat) and catch a cooling breeze. On our first visit, after examining the the trees in a nearby trial planting, I was hanging out on the platform, cooling down and chatting with the young Indonesian drivers. I tried to explain where we were from and what the hell we were doing there. I mentioned our kids and the question of my age came up. Berapa umur Pak? When I replied that I was 54, the two drivers shot each other the kind of look that suggested one of them had just lost a bet. I asked them how old they thought I was. Saya pikir tujuh puluh tujuh, replied the driver. Seventy-seven. God knows I haven't aged well, but that was a blow. I laughed it off as best I could, decided not to tip the driver, and made a mental note to investigate laser dermabrasion options back in Melbourne.

On our return a few days later we visited the cocoa plantation of Pak Arafin, which starts just behind the houses and stretches on up a hillside. Not far along this track we came across the guys harvesting rambutan (see the photo in last week's blog) and got to sample the fruit. [Having since tried durian a couple of times, rambutan is definitely my favourite. Rambutan tastes like banana and garlic custard, but is widely popular, particulary with the blokes. Perhaps it's a sign of gengsi (prestige).]

Rambutan stop

After checking the cocoa growing at the lower levels, our expedition leader Pak Philip asked Pak Arafin to take us further up the track, to see where the cocoa ended and the rainforest began. We climbed for more than an hour through a beautiful landscape of cocoa interwoven with taller trees – coconuts and wild mango (alas, no ripe fruit) – and sweated a bucketload in the process, but the forest edge was still a long way off. We stopped for a breather and to admire the view: in one direction, rice fields stretching towards the coast at Polewali; in the other, cocoa and coconut trees spreading across the hillsides as far as we could see. 

From there on the track became a narrow path traversing the slope. Pak Arifin was leaping ahead effortlessly but I for one was staring to get a tad grumpy and was just asking him as politely as I could “Berapa jauh lagi, Pak?” (“How much further, man?”) when we stumbled round a bend to find a little shack with smoke coming from the roof. 

Inside the gloom was a bare-chested middle-aged man in a sarong, two tiny kittens, and a large wok of yellow liquid gently plopping over a fire. It was surreal, like stumbling across a hermit in his cave. The stuff in the wok turned out to be palm sugar, being reduced to solid form, and sugar man promptly offered us a cup of the work in progress, which was, well ... very sweet. 

Pak Arifin, Peter and the sugar

Sweeeeeeeet!

After a bit of idle chat, we made moves to go, but as we clambered out of the hut one of the corner posts gave way. Sugar man toppled to the ground, was knocked on the head by the falling piece of wood and did a backwards roll down the hill. Needless to say we were all very concerned, but after taking a minute to get his bearings, sugar man assured us he was fine, so we left him with his kittens and started the trip back down. Nearing home, Pak Arifin stripped off his shirt and climbed straight up a 30-foot coconut tree with his machete, which he expertly employed to cut down 4 coconuts. 

About 10 minutes later we were sitting around out the front of his house, recovering with a coconut juice. “So does the sugar man live up there all the time?” we asked Pak Arifin. “No,” he replied, “he lives in that house across the road. He just goes up there every so often for a few days to make some sugar. In fact, he’s over there, at the house next door right now.” Sure enough, there was sugar man, clean shirt and neatly combed hair, chatting with the neighbours like a regular guy.

Fact of the day

Sulawesi was the source of a hair oil that was used by gentlemen in the old days in Europe. To avoid having their good furniture greased up, ladies would place strips of fabric over the backs of their chairs and couches. These pieces of fabric were known as antimacassars.

© 2014 Steve Dobney