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Published: June 26th 2014
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Monday, June 9th 2014
The trip technically began two days earlier on Saturday, when Kenton and I got on a plane to Jakarta. We met Bill (our guide from the International Rhino Foundation) there and chatted a bit before take off, but the weekend was mostly spent in the air going from Dulles to Tokyo, then Tokyo to Jakarta. The flights were fine. The only noteworthy thing was that I always pick a window seat and Kenton picks an aisle, but we lucked into an empty seat between us on the first flight so we didn't have to awkwardly chat with a stranger for 14 hours. Score! Also - we sat in the last row and they ran out of the 'breakfast' dish they were serving just before landing, so we got served 'dinner' again. Whatevs. It's not like either of them were truly edible anyway? Thank god I impulsively bought some twizzlers before takeoff.
Landed in Japan bleary eyed and fuzzy brained. It was afternoon outside, but felt like 2 am to us. While in Japan we got an e-mail from the travel agent indicating the other two zookeepers on the trip had missed their connection, and wouldn't
be joining us there as planned - they'd have to catch up to us somehow. After a bit of loafing and people watching we hopped the 2nd flight (7.5 hours) to Jakarta.
We landed at midnight Jakarta time on Sunday and waited in a not-very-long but also not-very-fast-moving line to get our visas. It was a little stuffy so I absently lifted my floor length skirt up to my knees to get a bit of a breeze. I caught a disapproving look from a tiny, ancient, Indonesian lady in a headscarf next to me and promptly dropped it again. This was the only time in the entire trip that I felt even mildly uncomfortable in my non-head scarved western woman attire.
When we got our bags and stepped out into the night to find our ride to the airport, I experienced that familiar sensation that happens in late august in DC - wherein stepping outdoors feels very much like stepping into a cloud of someone else's sweat. Hot. Humid. Moist. Rowdy. Loud. This is my first impression of Indonesia. It seemed like good times.
We squished into a cab and the driver expertly dodged the requisite chickens/children/motorcycles
to deliver us safely to the FM7 hotel. K and I promptly showered and face planted into our respective pillows.
The next morning - Monday - we met for breakfast at the hotel with Bill, and got to chat with our local guide Inov a bit. Afterward the 4 of us piled back in a cab to the airport, and took the 24 minute flight from Jakarta (which is on the island of Java) to Bandar Lampung (which is on the island of Sumatra). The flight on Garuda Indonesia was pretty nice - in that 24 minutes they actually served a meal and a drink. However, in order to be sure all was cleared and ready to land ontime, the poor flight attendants hand to hustle up and down the aisles, tossing meal boxes at everyone then hastily snatching them back 5 minutes later. Given their time constraints, cramped quarters, and movement limiting uniforms, they did so with aplomb.
We landed in Bandar Lampung, which is the tiniest airport I've ever seen. We climbed down the stairs out of the plane, and walked across the runway to baggage claim. As I stepped out into the gravel/dirt parking lot,
I glanced down at my hella heavy rolling suitcase and wondered why the F*&% I didn't use a rucksack to pack for this trip. Then, out of no where a man I didn't know snatched my bag up over his shoulder, grinning and shouting "I help you!" as he padded off behind Inov and Bill toward a big green and rainbow striped van. Later, I learned that guy's name is Suparman (a common Indonesian name), but is also nicknamed Superman because of his supreme badass-ness. (More about him later.)
An hour or so in the car to the hotel taught me that driving in Indonesia is really just a perpetual game of Chicken/Frogger. I'd somehow missed that the night before given that it was dark but holy SHIT I noticed it on that car ride. Weaving around dozens of motorcycles and coming INCHES from a head on collision with giant delivery trucks is totally the norm. My wimpy-ass western self was flinching and sucking air every few seconds - but we arrived save and sound at Hotel Amalia.
Insert extended afternoon nap. Holy jet lag, batman.
In the late afternoon Inov took us to a tiny little
shop, where a woman there tried to convince me to buy a complicated Bailinese wrap/tie/dress/cloth thing, but I politely declined, much to her disappointment. Out of guilt I bought a magnet from her. We also stopped by a baked goods store and picked up a few cookies/crackers/snacks to tote around for the rest of the trip. I picked out something that was graham crackerish with chocolate on one end and marshmallowy stuff on the other. They were superb.
To wrap up the day, we headed to the beach to watch the sunset. When we arrived it was mostly deserted, except for a few kids laughing/splashing/fighting in the shallow water and a few beach kitties roaming around and hunting for snacks. Just off shore was a tiny, uninhabited island. Inov flagged down a boat and negotiated a ride over. It was quiet, and dilapidated but gorgeous. There were a few abandoned houses, but mostly just sand and coral and trees. We found a cave that opened onto a beautiful rocky cove where we watched the sun go down.
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