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Aceh – Pulau Weh

Sunday, July 13th, 2008

Aceh is a name that should be familiar to every person on the planet. Ground zero for the 2004 tsunami, even before that it was notorious for a 30 year civil war that left 30,000 people dead in various clashes between local rebels disgruntled at jakartas exploitation of their natural resources and its total lack of any kind of reciprocal investment. The achenese see themselves as different from the rest of indonesia. Its ironic that it took the tsunami to make both sides see the err of their ways, the state is now at peace.

Given its turbulent history I was a little apprehensive visiting the place, though I was never not going to go given that I was so close. The bus trip from medan was 13 hours, another over nighter but this one wasn’t too bad. The road followed the coast mostly so was flat and straight. After the stop for morning prayers, I sat up and with interest looked out to see the damage that the tsunami wreaked. The wave that struck Bande Aceh was 35 metres in height when it hit land. 35 metres!!! Try and get your head around that, thats bigger than the gpo in dublin, hitting land at high speed. Its no wonder the place got wrecked, there is maybe one or two buildings here and there thats over 4 years old. There are ships abandoned miles in land, carried in by the wave. To give you some idea of the toll this city, roughly the size of cork, took there are 2 mass graves in the city with over 30,000 bodies in each. I spoke to one guy at the bus stop who said 44 members of his family perished that morning, Indonesians tend to exaggerate their family sizes to include friends and neighbours but even that taken into account leaves you with a phenomenal number of people that you know, just gone!! Those numbers are phenomenal, not since the US dropped the atom bomb have so many people died instantaneously. Rightfully it moved the world so much that the fund raising efforts to help these people rebuild their lives was unprecedented. Individual and collective empathy raised more cash that the governments of the world were willing to contribute. I was very interested to see how this money was being spent, I recently read naomi kleins book on disaster economics and she highlighted the corruption of government officials in tsunami hit zones – pocketing alot of the money intended for poor fisher men or orphaned children. I have to say that I was impressed by what I saw, it really is a town getting on its feet. Its lively and the people are as nice as anywhere I’ve been. There are some buildings or institutions (Mcdonalds, burger king, pizza hut) which are unnecessary, surely the money would be better spent building more houses, more schools, cleaning up the mess thats left behind. I only passed through the town twice, not staying over night so my impressions are pretty limited.

My main destination for the week was the island of Pulau Weh, an island famed for its coral gardens and its relaxed lifestyle. Not a bad place to spend my last week in asia I reckoned. The boat over takes a little over an hour, I chose the little fishing village of ibioah to stay, recommended by an indonesian lady on the boat. A taxi to the village is expensive but because there are so few tourists here I had to foot the bill or face being stranded at the port. The island is mountainous and surprisingly big. The trip to ibioah took the guts of an hour over a fairly comical excuse for a road inhabitated by the strangest looking monkeys I have seen yet. I got out of the taxi in the village and stood around looking like a plum when someone asked me if I wanted a place to stay. That someone stood in a small fishing boat, I nodded and before I knew it I was in the boat coasting around the bay trying to keep my bags from getting wet.

The trip was short enough,I was welcomed at the pier by the lady I had met on the boat. Some questions immediately sprung to mind – what the hell was she doing there and how the hell did she get here so quick. Now the first one is easily answered, she owned the place. The second one I am still scratching my head about, answers on a postcard please. She showed me to the rooms. Now when I say rooms, these things are individual wooden bungalows on stilts standing on the sea, the water was pure turquoise. The stuff you see in travel agent brochures. Not a beach to speak off but it will do nonetheless. Up with the hammock and out with the snorkel.

I must have swam 40 miles in the 6 days I spent there. The underwater action was superb, on my last day I happened upon a turtle out for his lunch. Swam with him for an hour, allowing the currents to take us all over the place. The sea is peculiar in these parts, the currents always seem to land you in the same spot, they will take you off for a mile or so and then it turns and land you back where you started.

Now I have a little something I need to get off my chest. I hate divers!! There bam I said it. And not just cristiano ronaldo or pippo inzagi either. I mean the people who dive in the deep sea. They are fascist arseholes, I hate to use the word hate but I hate them. They are so cliquey, ignorant and full of their own self importance. Pulaw Weh is full of them. One guy in particular got up my nose, from the second I stepped into the communal area he made up his mind not to like me, he kept his back turned to me and wouldn’t reply to a single thing I said. It was actually funny to be honest. I was happy enough to have my time to myself, swinging on the hammock over the gorgeous bay or swimming with my new turtle friends. I flew through a couple of books, with my 15kg check in limit date looming it was a necessary exercise!!

One more thing that annoyed me about this place was the locals ignorance for the rarest of jewels they had right on their door step,  the tsunami cleared away absolutely everything on the coast including rubbish – it gave the survivors a clean slate with regards to a new environment. The coral garden underwater for some reason survived the onslaught, others in the province were destroyed, but the locals just throw away their rubbish into the sea, they have no problem sinking concrete wells into the coral garden so that they can build an ugly concrete and steel structure in the beautiful bay. So many times myself or the nice italian guy who was there chastised the workers in our resort after they flicked another cigarette out in the sea or when they threw a plastic bottle out the front window just because it was empty. I think its a lack of education that has them this way but if they keep going the way they are going it will only be a matter of time before the place is abandoned by the fish aswell as the tourists. Its a pity as its picture perfect from afar, with a little planning and some counter refuse system it would stay that way.

I had to be out of the country by sunday because my visa was up and they don’t take too kindly to people overstaying their welcome here, so I headed off the island early friday morning. Back to Banda Aceh where I had hoped to grab a direct flight to KL but the bleeding thing was sold out and the next flight was tuesday, I had only heard off the flight during the week otherwise I would have booked it at the start of the month. So I was left with two ways to get back to medan, 1 hour flight or 14 hour bus. Sounds like a no brainer right? Wrong, the airline running the route were called SMAC airlines, now I am not a superstitious guy but I am not stupid either. The bus it was. In medan I spent a thoroughly unremarkable 2 days before I grabbed my flight – there are some beautiful mosques in the town but little else other than loud non moving traffic and pollution to see in the place. Off to KL on the sunday where I had a couple of days to shop for cold weather clothes and oooh sort out the tiny problem that is that my Australian work visa is no longer valid….

ciao ciao

Phil

Padang

Friday, June 27th, 2008

Before playing the game with tywan and his mates we went down as far as the coast, the trip on the back of the bike took quite a while, we spent most of the time on unimagineably bad roads or off road tracks across bridges that wouldn’t look like they would take a kids tryke let alone two grown men on a bike, tywan assured me that he knew where he was going though evidence to the contrary was growing and growing fast. We made it eventually to the coast and the longest beach I have seen in my life, not a trace of human existance it was proper robinson crusoe stuff.. We only spent about 20 minutes there as kick off was approaching, it is worth mentioning purely for the fact that it altered my intended plans for the next week. I reported back to adam and rose about the beach and they were similarly enthused, so we set aside a couple of days for the beach in padang.

After a night back in bukitinngi where I stocked up on pizza and beer (both conspicuous by their absence through my volcanic adventure) I took the 2 hour bus to the capital of west sumatra, its a pretty big city – 1 million inhabitants and all the noise and dirt that goes with that many people, I didn’t hang round longer than it took to grab an objet (local bus service) out the road to pasir jambag where Uncle Jack has his hostel. It took a little amount of negotiation to get dropped to the door but in no time at all I was signed in at uncle jacks, had a room reserved for the nam couple the swimming togs were on and I made a beeline to the sea, which is about 50 yards from the door of my 2 euro a night bungalow.

Uncle jack enjoys somewhat of a monopoly in pasir jambag, there are no obvious restaurants and no other places to get accommodation. As a result you are pretty much tied to the place, its a good job that the food is pretty good and the staff are quite funny, despite the fact that not many of them have good english, especially the lads who look after it at night. Food here is padang style, something that is famous all over indonesia apparently so it would be seriously amiss not to dabble in some while I found myself in rome so to speak. I think I may have mentioned it before but basically what they do is they put out a whole host of small sample like dishes which you gorge your way through at a frenetic pace. It can be hot though, I was left pouting like a fish out of water a few times due the amount of chili they slyly laced the dishes with…

For 6 days I did feck all in jacks, always planned to leave the next day but due to a late night watching the euros or the blatant appeal of hammocking by the ocean I ended up staying that long. There was a pair of dutch doctors staying in the hostel also, they motivated us to take a boat trip out to an island off shore (erm is there such thing as an inshore island??). To do this we approached one of the local fishermen and asked him if he would take 5 of us out there for the day, no bother, even got a bit of lunch thrown in. Jack had sold us the trip on the promise that there was good snorkelling out there but compared to thailand, the pippos and malaysia it was terrible. First of all there was the god awful coral bank that you had to walk across to get somewhere that you could actually swim, everyone had cut up feet by the time they took to the murky water where you could barely see more than a couple of metres into the sea. I did though, much to the annoyance of the other 4 see 3 turtles swimming around in the murky depths. Rather than brave the coral again I had to swim around to the other side of the island completely – sounds like more iron man stuff peesheen but I should mention that the island was about 500 metres in circumference.

And thats about the long and short of my time in padang, on the 6th day I took the bus from hell to Medan up in the north of sumatra. 26 hours…. Anyways thats another story.

Later,

Phil

Manijau – Phil Joe Versus the Volcano

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008
Manijau is the name of the small village that lies on the northern coast of a stunning volcanic lake that measures 17km by 7km. The crater dominates the skyline for almost the entire circumference of the volcano, only breaking once ... [Continue reading this entry]

The Long Walk – Bukittinggi to Lake Maninjau

Monday, June 16th, 2008
I met up with Coing at 8 the next morning. I deposited my bag with his friend so he could take it all the way to some guesthouse in lake maninjau, which one I didn't have a clue. It was ... [Continue reading this entry]

Dumai

Monday, June 16th, 2008
The Ferry across to sumatra was about as exciting as an episode of live at 3, we were cooked up in a pretty ordinary ferry not allowed to step outside so had to peer out through dirty windows out at ... [Continue reading this entry]