Atop the tall hill

Wooh! I have finally made it to the 'Create a post' page!

It is said that a trip to Sumatera Barat does not count unless you visit Bukitinggi. So now my trip has been validated :) While my radio stardom has been postponed until next Saturday (and that'll be a fun weekend- early wake up call for radio Saturday, and working Sunday (unpaid) on the EF Spelling Bee, grr), the trip to Bukitinggi (literally Tall Hill) went ahead, and even slightly early as Gita didn't have to work at the radio station. Several angkot (minibus/Torago) trips and a 2.5 hour minibus (yeah, it's just called minibus) ride got us to the Tall Hill. Ironically, I think we crossed a mountain range to get to Bukitinggi... but anyway. The scenery was truly beautiful, and reminded me of why I wanted to visit an area that's off the tourist trail and not a big city. Cities in Indonesia are ugly, even mini cities like Padang. But when you get out a bit, the houses are surrounded by sewah-sewah (wet rice fields), and have gardens, and flow on pools, and it's really interesting and so pretty. The waterfalls and old bridges we passed along the trip over-rode my travel sickness, also staved off by trying to learn the words to the Dangdut (Indo Pop) music played at high volume.

Bukitinggi itself was cold and wet. It rained sporadically while we were there, and I was cold for the first time in Indonesia. I needed an extra blanket at night- I don't even HAVE a blanket in Padang. Bukitinggi is far less humid, and the humidity really traps the heat in Padang. Bukitinggi, a smaller town, has far better traffic control than Padang too! It's a pretty place, all the streets sloping up to the top of the hill, and plenty of hotels and eateries. Had a great noodle soup for breakfast and, more significantly for me, traditional Indonesian kopi hitam, which absolutely kicked ass over the 'cappucino' I was served the day before (3 in 1 coffee, served with a huge spoon of more 3 in 1 on top where the froth would go. Super sweet and utterly revolting). Kopi Hitam is semi-sweet, lightly spiced and YUM.

While it would seem My superstardom had been delayed until the following weekend, no-one had told the people of Bukitinggi. I literally signed at least fifteen autographs (kids doing a school assignment had to get autographs and details from bule) and posed for maybe ten pictures. One girl was so excited she kissed me, most unusual in Indonesia. A guy at the 'cafe' (read bar) we went to also wanted to get to know me, despite the rebuffings of myself, my friend Gita and Andy, Gita's boyfriend. The point when he put his hands on my shoulders and tried to talk into my ear while I tried to move away was simultaneous with the point in time Gita insisted we leave NOW and the point in time several of Andy's friends glared daggers at the guy and moved in as if to hit him. Now in Australia, a sleazy guy grabs your ass. In Indonesia, where Gita and Andy have dated for two years and still don't touch in public, to put your hands on someone, even a bule, like that is completely unacceptable. Poor Gita and Andy were SO apologetic.

We visited the tourist spots; the top of the Japanese Caves, built during Japanese Occupation (couldn't go in, no lights working and the prospoect of snakes, even ular kecil (little snakes), meant I wasn't too disappointed); the clock tower with pointy Minang turrets which features on most Bukitinggi souvenirs; and the Taman Binatang, Zoo, which was the saddest zoo I have ever seen. I was almost in tears that the only orang-hutan (old man of the forest) I am likely to see were sans hutan (forest). In fact, they were sans anything but bars and a dirt floor. Most exhibits were dirt or concrete pits, such as the enclosure for the most miserable kangaroos I have ever seen. I spent a lot of time trying to cheer up my fellow Aussies, the roos and the cocky, to no avail. The only animals who had anywhere near a decent enclosure were the tiger, the lion and some of the apes. Awful.

Anyway, made it back to Padang safe and sound (after having to wait over an hour to get a bus home, and having a baby on the bus home create quite a royal aroma... ugh), having seen the sights, made some new Indonesian friends and enjoyed immensely the hot shower at the hotel (I wash ladelling cold water from a mandi- a big water tub. There is a shower head you can connect to the tap, but it only shoots out about four jets of water. It's more trouble than it's worth).

Yesterday, a policeman tried to hit on me. Of course, working on a tourist visa (illegal? Wah?), I was very polite to him (also polite because he had a clip of bullets on his belt...), while still indicating that no, I didn't want a boyfriend in Padang as well as Australia (they understand I have a boyfriend at home, but the concept that this may prevent me from dating them does not occur to Indonesian men!). And then, as I got up to leave, my chair dug into the sand and I hit the table, and bottles crashed, and his water splashed all over the table, only narrowly missing his immaculate uniform. I'm hoping this means he'll not try to find me again, and not that he'll feel I owe him anpther audience... Oy vey.