Kupang: Not a tourist destination

I had heard Kupang was not the best place to visit.  “It’s dirty and it’s loud,” they said.  A trip to this city was not on my “to see” list, but it couldn’t be avoided.  We are helping Novi and Esti get passports.  In Indonesia, everyone who wants a passport must personally visit the main office for the province they live in.  For Nusa Tenggara Timor (where we live), that office is located in West Timor in the city of Kupang. 

So.... Novi, Esti, Colby, and I ventured to Timor.  We rented a room at a hotel on the beach. 

I was thinking “ocean views”.  Fun!  Unfortunately, you can not see the ocean do to the concrete walls “protecting” the rooms.  And the TV you see in the above photo – it was only there to tease.  It didn’t actually work.  Nor did the hot water.  There was a real toilet, but no real toilet paper.  Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Kupang is a large city that sprawls.  Walking is not recommended due to the distances between attractions (and I use the word loosely) and due to the widespread drug problem.  Absolutely everywhere we went had a sign reminding visitors that the use of narcotics is not permitted.  Seriously....everywhere. 

We ventured to the mall via bemo.  A bemo is a mini-bus that doubles as a discotech regardless of the time of day.  Here Colby demonstrates how to “stay cool” on the mobile dance club.

Here he shows his true colors. 

Warning:  If you do venture to Kupang and decide to utilize bemos (as they are cheap and relatively efficient), beware they are the only place I did not see the No Narcotics Signs.  This lack of the ubiquitous reminder was sometimes evident in the bloodshot eyes of the bemo driver.

The mall had an escalator and a KFC with a playground – a step in the right direction for someone missing modern conveniences.   

We had planned to check out Gua Monyet (Monkey Cave), but were advised not to by the hotel staff, a waitress, and a bemo driver.  Apparently in addition to monkeys in the cave and a large traditional gong, Gua Monyet is a popular spot for drug and sex trafficking. 

The more we learned about Kupang, the more I realized it was not the best place for a “family” outing.  It became clear that we would be traveling only to the passport office and staying close to the hotel until time to return to Sumba.  Fortunately, there was a decent beach spot not a 20 yards from the hotel. 

Colby is now an excellent fisherman.  He caught many little fish in the tidepools.  He “befriended” one little fish. 

Poor thing.  Can you see it? Here, let me help.

He continued to dump water on this little fish washing back into the tidepool and recatch it.  It did not live long.  It might even be dead already in the picture above.  He wanted to bring it back with us.  I know they had become good friends and all, but a dead fish a good pet does not make. 

The girls successfully got their passports and we RAN to the airport, which does boast a few statues

I don’t think we will be returning to Kupang anytime soon, unless it is only to stop over on our way somewhere else. 

Random update

Just a quick update.....
1.  Darcy the wonder dog has gotten herself in a family way.  Just what Sumba needs.... more dogs.  What they really need is a vet!

2.  Someone from our study village was angry they couldn't participate in a human landing catch* one night, so they set fire to the entomology team's experimental hut.  

3.  Colby, Novi, Esti, and I are off to W. Timor to visit the bustling metropolis of Kupang this weekend.  Everyone here thinks Chris will starve do death without us.  I don't think he will have a problem finding food on his own (or beer for that matter).  I am positive he will not do any dishes or wash any of his dirty duds while we are away :).

 *For a human landing catch,you sit very still all night long and let mosquitos bite you.  When a mosquito lands you catch it in a cup so someone from the entomology team can record the species and time.  Sounds like fun, right?

Who would of thought?

When Chris first suggested moving to Sumba, Indonesia for a year, I am sure I thought he was completely cracked.  Imagine your spouse, in all seriousness, telling you that he wants to take you and your toddler and move to the other side of the planet. 

Perhaps, you are thinking... wow... Australia! or..... Spain!  It would be incredible to live there for a year!

“Yeah that would be fun,” he says, “but what wouldn’t it be totally awesome to live in Sumba!” 

Sumba........ where the h.e. double hockey sticks is Sumba?

“Indonesia!” he exclaims.  Then he proceeds to describe Sumba as a “remote and inhospitable” island, where we can study malaria. 

Cracked.  Totally cracked. 

Over the next few weeks, his plan developed and he continued to explain how he really believes this move would be incredibly beneficial for our family.  He truly believes that moving to a different hemisphere on the other side of the International Dateline will improve our financial situation, propel our careers, and give us a chance to connect as a family. 

When he first told me of this plan, I nodded and made the appropriate “I’m listening” noises, but never thought we would truly take such a gigantic leap.

Many long conversations later... here we are.  The Nixons have been living in Sumba, Indonesia for 6 months.

I can honestly say that this adventure has been phenomenal for our family.  Chris was right.   (Oh... please don’t tell him I said that.  It will only go to his head and who knows where he will try and convince me to live next!)  Our finances are improving.  We have networked with some amazing people in global health who we hope to collaborate with in the future.  We are learning an enormous amount about epidemiology, statistics, fieldwork, etc, and we have discovered that we work really well together in formal settings.  We are both writing manuscripts.  Chris is working on a review and a pathway to independence career grant (a big deal).  I have submitted 3 grants this year, and knitted my brains out.  (Oh... and I have lost 15 lbs... yeah!!!)

Many cool projects have come out of our time here already.  Together with the help of some dear friends in the US, the Sumba Youth Initiative has skyrocketed.  If you take a peek in the side bar you will see that we have raised over $3000.  I have hired a crew in anticipation of starting the first phase of well construction after the monsoons stop (mid February).  The Panti Asuhan Sinar Kasih is overwhelmed with joy.  SYI is already working on our next project idea!  I couldn’t be more excited about the direction this project is heading. 

Colby is learning a new language and has made a ton of friends including his best friend Darcy.

 Colby is potty-trained, growing and learning.  He gets into tons of trouble, chases chickens, and attempts to catch frogs, lizards, and grasshoppers.  He and his Dad work on projects together.  Colby is a big fan of screwdrivers!  Screwdrivers take a back seat to chocolate though!  

I can honestly say that my completely cracked husband came up with an out-of-the-park homerun with this one!

 

   

Waingapu: Highlights from Colby

Here is the finally installment from our Christmas trip to Waingapu.  Ridiculously overdue, but if you have been keeping up with the world weather and the storms they are having in Australia then you have some idea of what we have been dealing with.  Monsoon season combined with La Nina....Let's just say it is wet!

Look how sweet and innocent I am ...

Going for a walk with Dadda, Esti, and Novi

 My favorite way to take a bath!!

A train! A train! A train!!!!

Barak Obama, you are right.  Bakso is super yummy!

Thanks Nana for the pirate tattoos!

I have a stick!  Look at this big stick!

Why on Earth is this tree white?  And what are all of this sparkly balls doing on it?

Dadda is so silly.  He makes me laugh.

Okay Mom.  Since it’s Christmas I’ll let you hold me for a photo... just this one time.

Just don’t tell my girlfriend, Dewi, about this little smooch, okay!

Hurry up Momma!  I can do it by myself!

Stay cool man!

Waingapu: Fibermania

For Hari Natal (aka Christmas), we ventured to the Eastern part of Sumba.  Sumba Timor is as different from Sumba Barat as California is from Rhode Island. 

There were really two parts to this trip: textiles and sightseeing.  Too much occurred during our 5 day sojourn to write about it all in one part.  Today’s post will be all about the famous East Sumbanese textiles.  I have chosen to write about this part first, because I am too stinking excited about all of the yarn, the swifts, and the weaving that takes place on that side of the island.  If I try to write about all of the other fun the rest of the family had, it will just end up being about how of the delicious fiber arts anyways.  It’s best if I just get it out of my system!

Ikat refers to a dying technique used to give these pieces color.  Originally dyes on the island were all made from natural materials.  Now there is a mix of natural and synthetic dyes being used.  It can be difficult, if not impossible, to tell them apart on the street.  You must find a weaving cooperative that is dedicated to the old ways.  We found 2 in Waingapu. 

To dye the Kain (the name for the woven fabric) with natural dyes, you start with these roots, and leaves. 

They make indigoby packing the leaves from the indigo plant in a woven basket (just like the one in the photo above) with water.  The basket is then hung up in the sun, and the water drips out.  After a month or so, you are left with these fantastic blue cakes.  Traditionally, only women are permitted to make indigo dye in Sumba.  We were told by my new friend Freddy (he runs a weaving cooperative) that there is one man in East Sumba who can make indigo dye.  He is permitted to because he is homosexual.  Pieces dyed with this gentleman’s indigo are rare and often command a higher price. 

Red and yellow come from roots (pictured above).  They will also use mud to dye some pieces a dark chocolate color. 

Yarn is then wrapped around two bamboo logs and a cross string to divide the two sides of the fabric. 

 

Next, bamboo slats are tied to the back of the string to make it flat and easier to write on.  Using pencil, symbols passed down from generous to generous are sketched onto the strands.  The motifs are then tied off using grass similar to raffia. The portions under the raffia will not take the dye, only the exposed strands will accept the color.  The knots used to tie the grass to the strings are different depending on what color is to ultimately be given to that portion of the fabric. 

Next the strands are soaked in dye.  Indigo is always the first color.  The strings are removed from the dye and and stretched on bamboo logs again.  Portions that are to remain dark blue are retied with raffia.  Those left exposed will turn purple in the next dye – red.  The process continues in this fashion, layering color after color, until the design is complete. 

The strands are then returned to the logs and ready for weaving.  A red or black strand is often used for the weaving, depending on the overall color of the kain. This strand will be mostly hidden between the dyed motif. 

From start to finish, this process takes at least 10 months.  Larger, extensively detailed pieces can take 2 years.  Kain and woven sarongs can be purchased on the street for $30-$100.  While these pieces are exquisitely beautiful and are all hand dyed and hand woven, they are probably not dyed with natural dyes.  The color of kains made with natural dyes, I think, is much more intense.  These pieces generally range from $150- $500 depending on size, detail, and the number of colors used.  A few truly fine pieces can be sold for far more. 

My credit score was only saved by the lack of technology here or I might have maxed out a few pieces of plastic.  If you are interested in owning one of your very own naturally dyed ikat, leave a comment or send me an email.  I would be happy to have an excuse for a shopping trip to Sumba Timor!

        

Confession

Caution: Some information in this post might be considered by those of a delicate constitution to be “over-sharing”.  If you feel you fit in this category, perhaps it would be better if you explore this site. 

I don’t bathe as often as I think one should in the tropics.  I am not on some sort of bathing boycott.  I just don’t find it so enjoyable.  When the time arrives that standard convention would say I should shower, I find there are other pressing chores that desperately need my attention.

Our house is equipped with a traditional mandi.  That means we have a big sink that holds water and a plastic pan to douse one’s self with when it is time to bathe.  The water waits in this tank cooling down in the cold tile and dark bathroom. 

I find a splash of cold water perfectly wonderful after a hot run in the tropical sun or after a long, muddy day in the field.  Some members of this household (ehem... Chris) find the cold water “refreshing” and a “great way to wake up” in the mornings.  I find this morning ritual positively heinous.  I might smell, but frankly it is hard to tell here.  There are a lot of “organic” odors floating about for your nasal stimulation. 

I do have my limits and will force myself to endure the torture of a morning mandi at least every 2 days.  The rest of the time I bird bathe (as Gramma Hazel would call it).  This method ensures that I have the least amount of contact possible with the icy water and still have cleaned the...um...important parts of my body with soap. For these in between times, my hair remains tied up on my head and I apply ample deodorant.    (Again, I am not sure this matters given the common environmental bouquet of this region.)

I partake in a Western shower whenever it is made available, and I am looking forward to a conference in Bali next month.  I foresee many hot showers during those luxurious two days.  

Regardless of my current aromatic status, I make this solemn promise. Before I darken any doorsteps or present myself in public, I will thoroughly shower.  I promise to use hot water and soap, and spend an extraordinary amount of time behind a lovely vinyl curtain lathering and scrubbing.  

Timing

We finished the cross-sectional survey on Tuesday and threw a small party for the team to celebrate.  The following morning a land dispute erupted in Kodi.  The entomology team was in Wainyapu when men from one sub-village marched by carrying spears and large rocks.  They started a battle with men from the neighboring village of Waiha.  For the time being, all work has ceased in Wainyapu.  We must wait until they have decided to put away the big rocks and pointy sticks.  The worst part, according to Chris, is that access to a prime surfing spot has been cut off.  I realize what I am about to write may sound flippant, but I have a hard time imagining an actual battle in Wainyapu given that no one out there weighs more than 110lbs.

In all seriousness, though, the situation is real and people will get hurt maybe even die.  An elderly woman in town told us there must have been blood shed as all of the light had gone from the sky (no moon) last night.  I hope she is wrong.

The Nixons are safe and sound.  We live at least 1.5 hours from Wainyapu and won't be getting anywhere near there for quite some time.  It just feels surreal to have people nearby engaged in a tribal war and people in Waitabula (where we live) to say, "tidak apa-apa, itu biasa" (No big deal.  It's normal.)  The whole situation makes me seriously question their definition of normal.