sumba

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Sumba was the next stop, and with a 36 hour ferry ride ahead of me I felt like I was sailing to the end of the earth. A mix of characters amused me for the duration and with a wooden plank for a bed and an infinite supply of cockroaches and bugs I had to quickly adjust to this change in lifestyle. Luckily I could see it as just ‘being one of those things’.
I was offered gifts and food, people just wanted to sit next to me so they could see the only white man on the 2000+ passenger ship and it wasn’t long before I was invited to stay at peoples houses, fortunately it just so happened their houses were in the same direction as where I was going.

My arrival in waingapu at 1am was followed by an 8 hour bus ride out to the sticks and to a region known to have a reputation of ‘lawlessness’. A short motorbike ride and I arrive at a footpath to the side of the road, not knowing where I was, I was told we were here. There house was along a short trail through the forest and through farm land, as the trees parted I could see a bamboo hut with thatched roof, raised 6ft off the ground, animals were free to come and go and chickens were treated as family pets, where as dogs seemed to be seen as dirty vermin and it wasn’t long before I saw the first of many severe dog beatings, to the extent the dog was yelping with agony and keeling over with lack of malnutrition.
I had to climb a bamboo ladder to reach the first floor and my sleeping courtiers. Sitting in the middle of the jungle by some very amazed locals seemed exciting but equally as daunting. The afternoon came and I was told I could have a shower, I knew it wouldn’t be a hot shower, the hut didn’t have electricity but I wasn’t expecting to walk 15 mins to a stream to where I was expected to strip off and soap up. My presence made some of the other villages leave and others hide behind bushes and stare.

The art of eating rice and some unknown sloppy stuff with my fingers had to be mastered pretty quickly, but with a few helpful tips my meal was soon finished. As a guest fine meals were prepared for me and animals of my choice were killed there and then for the meal- everything apart from the buffalo which I was importantly taught how to ride- which I assume was a previous wedding gift! In this part of indonesia the wifes family is paid with livestock and the preferred animal is the buffalo.

A visit to another village and a family that seemed poorer invited me in to stay, this time there wasn’t the choice of animals but the offer of did I want to eat their dog for dinner, at that same moment the dog looked at me and I had to refuse and stick to eating rice and raw potato for 3 days.

Motorbike rides alone attracted attention and the stereotype of bandits seemed to fit appropriately to every middle aged man, bare feet, ripped trousers wrapped with traditional cloth, tattoos, and bandana’s, the dirty appearance, scowling faces and armed with mershetis unsettled me at first, but as I smiled, they smiled and flagged me down to either chat or hitch a ride on the back of my bike- detouring me to their village and the lawless reputation was now where to be found. The only violance I came across was the sacrifive of a buffalo and the enjoyment I saw the men have as they cut it to pieces.

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