Makanan

What I eat and drink in Toraja

Torajan coffee

Trying to kick the habit

Apples per usual

Kankung ca dengan sate ayam - water spinach sauteed with hot chilies, garlic and red onion + chicken sate. I've started putting the challenge back into consumption by adding lombok tumis-- a spicy sauce made from chili peppers and sometimes orange.

lombok tumis

At school the teachers are served Torajan coffee and a treat during breaktime. These are the best treats I've ever had in Indonesia. They're not too gelatinous, no chocolate + cheese and never any chicken surprises.  Though like most Indonesian desserts they are usually composed of palm sugar, rice flour, coconut and wrapped in banana leaf.

Torajan coffee is like the Indonesian equivalent to Bedouin tea. Read: ridiculously sweet.

 Doughy bun filled with palm sugary coconut. 
kue roti kukus

 Tastes like an apple cider donut but is actually made from sweet potato. 

Banana Treat 

 Fried black rice covered with palm sugar. Surprisingly delicious

Banana leaf

Banana surrounded by some deliciously ambiguous and moist combination of coconut milk, sugar and flour. 

An Indonesian food that I have a more complicated history with is bubur ayam. It's chicken porridge which took me a very long time to try because it sounds unappealing. However, when done well, it's savory and wonderful like grits. I've only had really excellent bubur ayam in Java but I'll give the Torajans another try by having it for dinner tonight. I've heard my mistress, Banjarmasin (a city in Kalimantan), makes a mean bubur ayam. Sadly I have yet to try their take on the dish. 

Tried it:

The Lost Boys

I finally gained enough courage to infiltrate the Lost Boys Lair next door to my house. I needed to take a series of photos to fully document the magnificence.

Things to look for:

• The child smoking
• The man holding the rooster
• The Wild West inspired scarf tied around mouth
• The black mesh tank top  
• The almost preppy sweater around shoulders look

I took a moment to indulge in self righteousness
by saying jangan merokok, kamu terlalu kecil
Don't smoke. You're too small. 

So much wood!

I have yet to enter this one

UPDATE: Two fellow Fulbrights, Thomas and Mary, came to visit. They helped me to exploit the Indonesian lack of boundaries in order to see the inside of this construction. After inviting ourselves in, we experienced a lost boys' lair (as expected) as well as a few surprises.

Things we expected that were confirmed:

• Assortment of young men
• Magazine cut outs on the wall--mainly pertaining to soccer
• Random electronics 

We, however, did not expect:

• A canopy bed
• Eyelash curler (When we asked about it they earnestly informed us they used it to curl their eyelashes. Ok.)  

Mount Merapi

As Mt. Merapi erupts I wanted to take a moment to flashback to this volcano's more peaceful days. My friends in Yogyakarta are evacuating because of the ash and pebbles raining down.  My thoughts are with them. 

Here are some photos from two years ago when I climbed Mount Merapi.

Sunrise from the top

Exploring

Yes, my main picture is of Merapi

One of our guides. We had really great conversations.

Laura and me 

Climbing back down 

We started hiking around 11 pm armed with headlamps and snacks. Often needing to use our hands, we literally climbed for seven hours. We reached the top in perfect time to watch the sunrise. Our guides made us hot chocolate and nasi goreng (fried rice). Climbing down took even longer and was surprisingly more frightening. The darkness had made me blissfully ignorant of the drop offs that surrounded us.

Magic

Before I came to Tana Toraja, I was warned by an Indonesian friend that there is a lot of black magic here. That friend gave me his father's magical ring to serve as protection. I was also given strict instructions not to wear it into the restroom because apparently that removes the magic.

What I've learned about magic in Indonesia thus far:

• Young people can become possessed by spirits. This most often happens if there is emptiness in their heart, which creates a vacuum the spirit can fill. When someone is possessed their skin and lips turn pale and they may faint or start screaming. One of the high school teachers is skilled at removing spirits from students by saying magic words and touching their forehead with a special type of cloth. 
• Not everyone has magical powers. Those who do usually live in the wilderness--away from modern technologies. Magic is inherited. However, if one wishes to maintain their magical abilities they must live a life of seemingly arbitrary restrictions. Thus far I know they cannot drink alcohol or walk under laundry lines. These people cannot be affected by swords or bullets. 
• Those without the gift can still sometimes perform acts of magic. For example, when he was young, one of my co-teachers was able to use magic to make a girl fall in love with him. Apparently he obtained the necessary magic words from one of his friends who had the power. This teacher told me that the girl fell so madly in love with him that it became a nuisance. He did what he had to in order to reverse the spell. He said the magic words backwards. The words weren't Indonesian or any other language my co-teacher had ever heard. 
• In the past magic was used to make dead people walk. This would be done if a body needed to be relocated. It would only work if the deceased person avoided being seen by walking deep in the forest at night. Today, this isn't done because modern transportation undermined its utility. 
• Magic is still currently used to prevent rain at funerals. 

I've been told that you can only be affected by magic if you believe in it. The stronger your faith the stronger its power. I don't believe in magic per se but I do believe that faith in anything can be very powerful. 

Night out

I made my first attempt to “go out” at night in Tana Toraja. A few other Fulbrights were visiting Toraja so we agreed to meet up at the Gazebo restaurant in the nearby town of Rantepao. We wanted to try pa’ piong, a traditional Torajan dish composed of coconut chicken baked in bamboo and tuak or palm wine.

We began dinner at seven and after a few hours of sharing stories we were ready to retire. As we were getting up to leave, our waitress inquired as to how we intended on getting home. She then informed us that there is no transportation from Rantepao to my town after seven pm.

We were a bit caught off guard but still optimistic that we would be able to find someone willing to drive us home. I made some sort of uncomfortable joke to the waitress about us sleeping at her place. Poorly received. Though she did offer to call someone she knew to drive us home. After fifteen minutes of trying to hail a car in the rainy darkness with our flashlights, we decided to take her up on her offer.

Unfortunately we had to pay 90,000 rupiah instead of the usual 5,000. Our drive was also terrifying because 1. Toraja does not have street lights 2. It was raining 3. Our driver was speeding and swerving about 4. The cars don’t have seatbelts 5. Most of the roads are busted 6. The tires are most likely not new. It was scary but I kept reminding myself that the driver must do this all the time and he must know what he’s doing. I was therefore relatively cool until the driver made some joke about palm wine. That’s when it hit us: the man driving us had been drinking at the Gazebo restaurant at a table near us earlier. We hadn’t recognized him in the dark until his comment jogged our memory. The drivers here are generally fear-inducing enough without the added element of even a little intoxication. Terrifying

We arrived home safely and overall it was a fun night. 

Moral of the story: I’m ready to return to my beautifully wholesome lifestyle of staying in after dark.

Pa' Piong

Black Rice

Palm Wine

Shhh vs Ssss

Three children arrived on my doorstep today. They had climbed over my fence with a mission:

"Can you teach us English, Miss?" (They asked in Indonesian)

My instincts told me to maintain boundaries and tell them I was busy. I'm not comfortable having students or random children in my house. 

But then I noticed the little English book held tightly in one of their arms. It was too precious for me to even handle. My maternal instinct/role as a teacher/philanthropic spirit prevailed and I invited my new little students to take a seat with me on my front porch. 

We practiced "How old are you?" "What are your hobbies?" "She sells sea shells by the sea shore," "Ph sounds like F," "One little two little three little Indians" and "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands." 

Most importantly I taught them how to "high five." When I was demonstrating how to high five, I high fived myself in a sort of clap-like fashion. I then proceeded to hold my hand out to high five one of the little students. My demonstration unintentionally taught them to clap their hands together before receiving/taking part in a high five. I don't know what makes it so adorable and hilarious. But I do wish I had recorded it. It's that precious. If you don't understand why this is noteworthy, please wait until you are the unfortunate recipient of a high five and clap your hands together before reaching your hand out to receive. 

I fear it may catch on.

Cliff Graves

In addition to its gruesome funeral rituals, Tana Toraja is known for its cliff graves. These elaborate grave sites are reserved for those of high social status.

"Tau Tau" are images of the deceased carved from the wood of a jack fruit tree. They are thought to contain the soul of the deceased.