Hell hath no fury like Mother Nature scorned

Warning: No photos today. Just an interesting story... well at least I think so.

The facts: Indonesia is a country besieged by natural disasters. Precariously perched on the Pacific Ring of Fire, there are volcanoes erupting, earthquakes, and tsunamis. The news has been littered with stories about the most recent disaster that occurred just a few days ago off the coast of Sumatra. A 7.7 earthquake struck at the same fault (out in the ocean) that shook that part of the world in 2004. The earthquake six years ago set off a tsunami that killed more than 230,000 people in more than 10 countries. Padang, Sumatra was one of the hardest hit regions. In the past 48 hours, they have endured 15 earthquakes (the primary tremor followed by 14 aftershocks), and a tsunami that wiped away homes and entire villages in Sumatra and the remote Mentawi Islands (very famous surf spot). One small village of 200 people is completely gone and only 40 people have been found so far. The death toll is rising (more than 100 confirmed, 500 still missing, reports still coming in) and rescue crews can’t get to some of the islands because the conditions are too dangerous. All of the shaking going on in the Northwestern corner of Indonesia has disturbed a volcano on the island of Java called Mt. Merapi. The last I heard 25 people had been killed.

The story: A spiritual leader, a shaman of sorts, named Mbah Maridjan guards Mt. Merapi. It is his job to maintain harmony with the volcano so that the villages at the base of this volatile mountain can live in peace. Two years ago, reports from seismologists indicated that Mt. Merapi would erupt with furor. Government officials issued warnings and directed villagers to evacuate. The villagers did not go from their homes. The trusted elder, Mbah Maridjan, assured them that Merapi was at peace, and he was right. Merapi did not spew fire and ash as predicted. As predictions that Merapi might react to the recent earthquake poured in, Indonesians, particularly the Javanese, looked to Mbah Maridjan for reassurance. As is the custom and belief here, Mbah Maridjan began to pray. This morning he was found at Mt. Merapi kneeling in pray with his hands outstretched along the ground. Mbah Maridjan had passed away. Within hours of the guardian’s death, Mt. Merapi began erupting.

Beetle Nut

Beetle nut, known as siripina to the locals, is a mild stimulant (think caffeine) and suppresses appetite. Chewing beetle nut requires 3 different pieces. The first is the siripina itself, which looks like reddish-brown nuts. The next part is a stick-like thing that you use to put lime (yup...ground up limestone) into your mouth with the siripina.

All of this is chewed together and causes you to produce an obscene amount of bright red salvia. People in Sumba chew beetle nut constantly. The streets and front porches here are covered with red splotches from people spitting their red salvia. Chris, of course, had to try it. Esty purchased some for him at the market for the bargain price of 3000 rupiah (33 cents). His normally pristine white teeth were instantly turned red and his lips were painted scarlet. 

He has since tried it several more times. I think he is hoping that it will taste better. It didn’t. Since, Chris seems to be game to chew it every once in awhile. Esty keeps some around the house. She seems to really enjoy chewing it. 

 

I am not sure what people like about it. I have not yet tried it, and I am not sure I will. All of the spitting is a little too much for me. Almost everyone here chews beetlenut, and they carry all the necessary components around in little satchels. It is easy to spot those who makan siripina and those who do not. With any sort of prolonged use, the siripina stains your teeth a grotesque shade of burnt sienna. (Thank you Bob Ross and The Joy of Painting for my extensive knowledge of burnt sienna and its many hues.) Eventually, it kills your teeth turning them black. As Chris found out, repeated brushing is required to remove the Bob Ross burnt sienna after even just one use.

Signs

Do you believe in signs? Do you think that loved ones, the universe, or a higher power sometimes sends you messages from the great beyond to guide and direct you? I think this happens more than most people like to admit, and this week Chris was slapped in the face by signs – literally.

The week started off a bit strange. Chris went surfing in Wainyapu (our current field site) on Monday during his lunch break. The waves weren’t so big, but he was having a decent time. Well, until someone sent the first sign.

I am told the board is fixable, but Chris has run out of fiberglass and epoxy. Apparently, these items are essential for diy surfboard repair. He wasn’t too distraught, though. There are a plethora of surf shops in Bali and people regularly travel between Sumba and Bali. It won’t be too difficult to get the materials he needs. Besides there was a swell coming and he still has his “gun” (a particular type of surfboard, or the pet name Chris has given the board – I don’t actually know.)

To make the most of the swell, we made plans to travel back to Pantai Marosi and stay at Sumba Nautil Resort. This time only Chris and I would go. It would be the first trip we have ever taken without Colby. It seemed perfect. Marosi is only about a 2-hour drive, so we would be close, Colby is in fantastic hands with Novi and Esty, and the resort is beautiful so I would be entertained while Chris surfed. Since it would be just the two of us, we decided to go using the motorbike, which is really just an oversized scooter. We travel to Wainyapu often by motorbike and that takes at least 1.5 hours.

Chris ventured to the local hardware store to see if he could find some scrap metal to make a surfboard rack. While digging through a pile of old kickstands and metal rods, he heard a loud crash. He ran outside and saw a man flying through the air. He had been speeding down the road on his motorbike and hit a tank truck. The blow knocked his unfastened helmet right off his head. When he hit the pavement, Chris said he was unresponsive and bleeding from a large gash on his head. Okay... call me crazy, but I think witnessing a (most likely) fatal motorbike accident is perhaps sign #2. However, Chris was not swayed from the trip. We both have excellent helmets and wear them fastened. Chris is very cautious and does not drive like a maniac. He decided it was only a reminder to be extra cautious.

As planned, we left at 5:45am Wednesday morning with the “gun” strapped to the bike. It was a relatively uneventful journey. Though, we did see this sign and thought it odd enough to stop and take a photo.

Looking back, it probably meant “CAUTION”. At the time, we thought – wow! A sign showing how excited we are about our little trip!!

We arrived at Sumba Nautil at 8am. Mr. Alli checked us in immediately and Chris made a beeline for a break called Sunset Lefts. I decided to take advantage of the quiet by sitting on our veranda knitting and watching butterflies. It was deceptively peaceful. Two hours later, as promised, Chris returned.

Apparently, the swell had arrived, and the waves were enormous.

As I was wiping the blood from his disturbingly abundant wounds, he proceeded to tell me how he had already put his nose back into place. You see - it is broken. He noticed that it was hanging to one side of his face as he came out of the water. Before he had a chance to think about it, he grabbed his nose and pulled back to its original position. Then he puked. I don’t know how he managed to strap his now cracked “gun” back on to the bike or how he drove himself back up the hill to the hotel.

Mr. Alli was nice enough to drive us to the local clinic. For about $8, a nurse stitched up his cheekbone (1 stitch) and his eyelid (3 stitches). While they did have some anesthetic to numb his face for the, shall we say, darning, they had nothing stronger than Tylenol for the pain.

Needless to say, someone wants Chris to be more careful. Since he didn’t get their subtle messages earlier in the week. They smacked him upside the head with a big warning. Chris will not be surfing for at least 3 weeks (healing time for his face). It might be longer depending on how quickly he can get his boards repaired.

Personally, I think it was Grandma Chlo Ann and Nana Foster who sent the messages. Those ladies always had a way of getting their point across. Don’t worry Grandma and Nana. He got the message – loud and clear.

Fenced in

You might remember from earlier photographs of our rental house there was a fence around the yard made of bamboo.

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A bamboo fence, being extremely economical, is quite common here.  The fence was in decent shape.  There were a few spots in need of repair, but nothing drastic.  The gate, or at least the large space underneath the gate, was a problem.  Large and small dogs would scoot under the gate to steal Darcy (our puppy’s) dinner.  One dog, particular, was rather scary.  He was not afraid of any of us and actually tried to bite Colby once.  It was long before Colby discovered he, too, could escape under the gate and run wild in the field across the street.   We expressed our concern about the gate to our landlord Pak Cos, and then made sure to block the open with scrap lumber.  Pak Cos told us he would look into a new gate that would better protect Colby.  Soon after this initial conversation, he began installing a much larger metal gate.   The new gate is made of metal bars and is about 6 feet tall.

 

Then, a truck showed up and unloaded a pile of hand cut stones in front of the house.  Later that day, Pak Cos and his nephews tore down the bamboo fence and proceeded to construct a stone-wall with sharp metal poles and shards of glass on top.  

While we are grateful for better security, initially the new fence made us feel a little....umm.... trapped.  As soon as we started to get use to the transition from seeing natural materials out our front door that melted gently into the scenery to seeing a more modern stone and metal structure, Pak Cos altered the view.  He painted the metal parts a bright red.

Red paint is a considerably bold color for Sumba.  Everything here is done out of necessity.  It is rare to see anything that exists for purely aesthetic reasons.  We assumed red was the only color available right now.  The red paint was nice, though.  It helped the gray barrier fuse better with the landscape.  It blended with the red hues on the trees and shrubs in the field across the street.  I liked the red paint.  I was used to the red paint.  Pak Cos apparently did not.

I don’t even think the second coat of red paint had completely dried when Pak Cos began painting the fence pink.  It reminds me of flamingoes.  He thinks the pink is better.  Not as bold.  More subtle.  Maybe.... but he hasn’t finished painting the fence. 

The fence remained this mix of pink and red for several days when Pak Cos finally returned to paint some more.  I thought he had come to finish painting the red parts pink, but a single color apparently is not the plan.  This time he brought another can of red paint.  He is now painting the concrete poles at the end of the fence red.....WHAT!!!

I think we will throw a Valentine’s Day party.  In October.