Month: August 2008

Categories
Indonesia Madagascar photo

Tana Toraja and Madagascar

Terrace farming, Sulawesi

Terrace farming, Madagascar

As I’ve said many times before, much of what is great about traveling in so many different places, especially within a relatively short timeframe, is that many connections can be made.

As you may know, the Malagasy (as the people of Madagascar are called), although they live just off of the coast of southeastern Africa, originally came not from Africa but from Asia. The Austronesian ethnic group arrived by boat from now Indonesia (across all those thousands of miles of Indian Ocean), and settled on the huge island of Madagascar over a thousand years ago. The island was not yet significantly inhabited by Africans from the mainland, who have arrived since to intermarry with the Asian Malagasy. To this day, especially in the highlands of central Madagascar, people look pretty much Southeast Asian. Even relatively African or dark-skinned Malagasy, as you find on the western coast, are quick to distinguish themselves from “black” Africans, who are thought of as a somewhat inferior race. (One man, who was to us indistinguishable from a black mainland African, when we said that we were American, remarked that we too had “red” people like him.)

Although we had not been to Indonesia or Malaysia prior to our Madagascar trip, some “Asian” aspects of the Malagasy were obvious to us. First, as I mentioned, many Malagasy look Asian. Second, they speak an Austronesian language that I understand is most closely related to a language spoken on Borneo. Third, they grow rice, and not the grains common to mainland Africa. Now in Tana Toraja in southern Sulawesi, I see even more clearly the genuine cultural closeness that the Malagasy retain to their Indonesian ancestors.

The most distinctive and telling of the new connections I have made is funerary customs. When we visited Madagascar in 2005, we had read much about the unusual local traditions, including the infamous famadihana, or the turning of the bones, in which the bodies of the deceased are disinterred so that they can be covered in a clean shroud and reburied. The custom may seem quite morbid to us, but it is really a huge celebration demonstrating the Malagasy connection to their ancestors, a continuation beyond death of the familial relationship. We were in Madagascar during famadihana “season,” but did not have the fortune to be invited to an event, which are, perhaps thankfully in this age of mass tourism, still largely private affairs.

We are now in Tana Toraja (the “land of the Toraja”) in central south Sulawesi, and learn that they have similar funerary traditions, including a ceremony remarkably similar to the famadihana. Again we did not see any such disinterment, but we were fortunate enough to be invited to and present for part of a Torajan funeral–alas, tourism here has caught up to tradition. Upon the death of a loved one, the body is left within the home for up to one year (and continues to be treated as a member of the family), until an elaborate funeral ceremony is prepared for after the next harvest. The Torajan relationship to the dead to be at least as intimate as the Malagasy one. Some pictures of a Torajan funeral:

The elaborately decorated coffin and the “emcee”

A team of women working a local drum-like instrument

The location of the funeral, a rectangular lawn surrounded by traditional houses. The people walking alongside the left of the picture represent one of many delegations paying their respects to the deceased, bringing with them gifts of livestock. One water buffalo has already been killed and skinned. We were not there for the day of the great slaughter, but were told that up to fifty animals would be sacrificed.

The Malagasy and the Torajans are also similar in their unusual choices of burial locations. We saw cliffside tombs in Madagascar, and, in Sulawesi, coffins in cliffs, caves and trees. All in all, most unusual.

Tombs cut out in a cliff, Sulawesi

Detail of the “tau tau” effigies protecting the tombs

Coffins hanging on the side of a cliff, Sulawesi

Tree tombs for babies, Sulawesi

Cave tombs, Sulawesi

Cliff tombs, Madagascar

There are many other connections. Both the Torajans and the Malagasy have caste systems. Both the Torajans and the Malagasy excel at terrace farming of rice. Both the Torajans and the Malagasy place great value in the ownership of cattle (water buffalo, especially albinos, in Sulawesi; zebu in Madagascar), the number of animals in particular being a primary indicator of status in excess of the actual utility the animals provide. If there was any doubt that the Malagasy indeed came from Southeast Asia… The persistence of culture over hundreds of years and thousands of miles is truly astonishing.

Zebu market, Madagascar

An albino water buffalo, the most prized of all, Sulawesi

Categories
food Indonesia photo

Food in Indonesia

Why there are not many Indonesian restaurants all over the world is a great mystery to me, as Indonesia is one of my favorite countries in the world for eating, hands down. From the lesehan of Java to the numerous Padang-style rumah makan, delicious food is always steps away in Indonesia, dirt cheap and full of flavor. In this post, just a few Indo-staples, along with a couple regional dishes from our trip.

There are three “dishes” that I would consider the holy trinity of quick and dirty eating in Indonesia: nasi campur, nasi goreng and mie goreng.

Nasi campur, which means “mixed rice,” isn’t really a dish per se, but a sort of table d’hote–white rice served with whatever dishes are on offer that day. A nasi campur often includes some vegetables, fried tempe (a sort of meat substitute made of grains and pulses), flavored boiled egg, chicken curry or fried chicken and sambal. Nasi campur is the absolute most basic food that is available anywhere–since you are just served what is available–and cheap (around USD 1). It is, along with its Malaysian cousin nasi lemak, one of the tastiest, cheapest meals known to man.

At a restaurant in Lombok. Fried scallions are a common seasoning.

If you’re in the mood for something hotter/more freshly prepared, a good step sideways is Indonesian fried rice, or nasi goreng (literally, “fried rice”). Nasi goreng packs a bit more flavor than Chinese-style fried rice and almost always comes with a fried egg for extra protein.

Served on a leaf

Somewhat more simple and less tasty is mie goreng (“fried noodles”). Mie goreng is essentially a sort of dry instant noodle, often very salty but always appetizing.

A fourth typical dish, and Indonesia’s most common and unique vegetable plate, is gado gado, a plate of blanched vegetables served with peanut sauce and usually a shrimp chip or two. To be honest I don’t like it too much, but Derek does, comparing it to Chinese cold sesame noodles.

Some more localized specialties:

Seafood is common in Indonesia, with fish often baked in banana leaves. This dish was from Flores.

From Lombok, a spicy chicken dish, flavored in part with kaffir lime leaves

From Tana Toraja in Sulawesi, pa’piong, pork and chicken cooked in bamboo

Categories
India Indonesia Iran photo queer

Waria, or Transgendered around the World

In much of the first world, the battle for “gay rights” is largely won. Gay men and lesbians can legally marry (or enter into some contractual facsimile of marriage) in many Western European countries, as well as Canada and some of the most important of the United States. Even if public acceptance is not yet totally here, and some anachronistic laws remain, the overall trend seems clear, and young people today find little astonishing or controversial about sexual orientation (as Derek’s then nine year-old niece remarked, even SpongeBob is gay). This is of course not the case in many other parts of the world. Even if east Asia lacks much of the religio-moral condemnation of homosexuality, most gay men in Japan, Korea or China are deep in the closet, with “Brokeback” marriages the norm. In the macho-er parts of the developing world, gayness is perceived as weakness and shunned. In some parts of the Islamic world, homosexual activity can be a capital offense.

Some in the world may still try to deny the existence of hard-wired homosexual orientation, or its “legitimacy” to exist and manifest itself, but some facts of life are impossible to deny, and it is sometimes quite surprising to see how well-established the transgendered identity is in seemingly unlikely locales, including three on our itinerary: India, Iran and Indonesia.

Homosexuality as an identity in India may be just barely nascent–even the megalopolis of Bombay does not support one proper gay bar–but there is an ancient class of transgendered persons, known as hijra. Either male or intersex at birth, hijra assume essentially feminine identities, going so far as to “marry” men (either with or without having undergone castration). Some hijra work in the sex industry, but they are also known for performing a sort of exorcising role at births and weddings, to ensure the masculinity of male children and promote fertility. While hijra are not exactly “accepted”–they suffer a great deal of discrimination and are also feared as a sort of cursed race that may, if you offend them or refuse their services, curse your children to suffer their fate–they are a well-established community, a category of person, which has its defined (albeit difficult) niche within Indian society.

The second place on our itinerary that has a sizable and recognized transgendered population was, believe it or not, Iran. While Iran executes (or at least Iranian law calls for the execution of) gay men, Iranian doctors and theologians apparently have found no religious reason to deny the existence of transgendered people. Even if being a transgendered person is not exactly “well accepted” by society, the state recognizes it as a medical condition that can be “remedied” by the surgery of the sex change operation (partly covered by the national health insurance), and Iran is, after Thailand, a world center for that procedure.

Southeast Asia as a whole seems to have an unusually large transgendered population. In Thailand they call them kathoey or ladyboys, and many a male heterosexual traveler has mistakenly fallen for one (they can sometimes be, as U2 would say, even better than the real thing, in terms of sheer knockout beauty). The visibility of the transgendered population of these countries may have some genetic component or, as likely, may be due to widespread public acceptance, especially in Thailand and some of its neighbors. Indonesia may be the largest Islamic country in the world, but in terms of its transgendered population, and seeming acceptance of their gender identities, it is very much a part of Southeast Asia.

In Indonesia they are known as “waria,” which is an amalgam of the words for woman (“wanita”) and man (“pria”). I have read one estimate of fewer than 30,000 waria, but in a country of over 200 million it seems likely that the real number is far higher, and simply traveling about Indonesia one sees them everywhere, from the seedier parts of Bali nightlife along Jalan Dhyana Pura to quiet Labuanbajo on Flores to Islamic Makassar on Sulawesi. I have also read reports suggesting that many or most waria are sex workers or have at least engaged in the trade, and while of course there are some (such as the ones on Bali) who are, most waria I have seen in Indonesia seemed like regular people doing regular jobs. Waria are often quite friendly and outgoing with travelers. Labuanbajo had a sort of waria hangout (the Matahari–two English guys in our dive group seemed to hang out there quite a bit). We saw some mild teasing of waria by other locals but no open hostility, given the warias’ very open presence.

I am inclined to think that transgendered people, in India, Iran or Indonesia, or in some Native American cultures (whose transgendered people were at one point called berdache and now, “two spirits”), are accepted in part because of the indubitable existence of people who are born intersex. It is a fact of nature (up to 1% of all human births, according to some studies) hard to deny the existence of, that it forces the creation of a category. Presumably, once the category is created, it admits not only those who are born physically ambiguous but those who, psychologically, are transgendered.

I wonder: In societies where the transgendered identity exists and is tolerated, is there any pressure on non-transgendered homosexuals to try to squeeze themselves in? That is, if you are a gay male, would you be tempted to identify as a hijra or waria to be able to express your sexual preference? I would think not, because gender is a much more core aspect of identity than mere sexual preference, but it is clear to me that there are different “kinds” of homosexuals, and it is possible that some may be tempted by an open identification. If indeed culture helps shape sexuality, to what extent can sexuality be affected by the gender/sexual roles available in a given culture? Does the existence of the category of waria or hijra affect the number of people who may come to identify, in their adolescence or adulthood, as transgendered or homosexual? These are difficult questions, of course, but one thing is clear: “deviance” from the male/female heterosexual norm is incredibly widespread, and recognition of this fact has existed from time immemorial.

Categories
Indonesia photo

Indonesian Ferries

Indonesia is the world’s largest archipelago, and even in this jet age travel by water is an essential mode of transportation in Indonesia. Ferries are varied, from fast tourist catamarans operating out of Bali to local ferries crossing the narrow straits between islands; from small boats carrying people a couple miles to great ocean liners operating across the vast country.

Even on our short Indonesia trip we found ourselves on multiple boats, not including the boat trips we took for diving, and I thought a post in order especially to relate our voyage to Sulawesi.

Our first stop in Indonesia was the island of Gili Trawangan, one of the three “Gili Islands” off of Lombok that have become in recent years enormously popular beach/diving destinations. Trawangan is known as the “Party Gili” (we went not for the party but because we thought it would have the best range of food and accommodations), but is in fact still quite relaxing and peaceful–nothing at all like, say, the Kuta/Legian/Seminyak urban agglomeration of Bali. The Gili Islands are served by both fast medium-sized boats from Bali and small local ferries from Lombok. We flew into Lombok and took the latter, which just pull up on the beach, with passengers wading to shore.

From Lombok we traveled east to the next island in the chain, Sumbawa (something of a rarity–an Indonesian island that is not a real tourist destination). Our bus from Mataram in Lombok to Bima in Sumbawa took the ferry to cross from Lombok to Sumbawa, as often happens with long-distance buses in Indonesia. During the ferry portion of the trip, the bus passengers get off the bus to relax in the passenger sections of the boat, a nice way to break up a long ride. The boat ride itself is only about a couple hours, comparable to the distance from Sumatra to Java or Java to Bali (and shorter than the distance from Bali to Lombok or Sumbawa to Flores).


From Sumbawa to Flores, the next island east, is a somewhat longer trip, taking the better part of a day. The boat passed through the islands of Komodo National Park, the home of the Komodo dragon. I was nervous due to reports that the passage can be rough (and because some surfers on their way to Sumbawa had told us that a “perfect” swell was approaching from Australia), but the sea was perfectly calm. Both the Lombok-Sumbawa and Sumbawa-Flores ferries, while in reasonable condition, seemed to be secondhand ferries from other countries–the Lombok-Sumbawa ferry even had safety instructions in Japanese and a full (though not functioning) Japanese vending machine, complete with cans of Japanese beer.


The great journey of our Indonesia trip, however, and really one of the most memorable single rides that we’ve ever been on, was the PELNI trip from Flores to Sulawesi. PELNI is the state-owned shipping line that operates very large passenger ships among the islands of Indonesia. Numerous ships run on various two-week itineraries, connecting all of the major (and many minor) islands with services ranging from posh first class to cattle-class economy. I had fantasized about taking a PELNI journey ever since I first saw a map of PELNI routes, the curvy lines connecting Indonesia’s many remote ports, and we traveled to Sulawesi instead of staying on Flores in no small part because a PELNI ship happened to be departing.

What helped make the trip so memorable was the advice we were given by people on Flores when we bought the ticket: buy economy class and upgrade on board by renting a crew cabin. Now, usually, this is not bad advice–we did confirm on board that crew cabins are generally available for rent, at a substantial discount from the first and second class cabins. But we were not in the usual situation.

As I mentioned above, millions of Indonesians still rely on boats for transportation–either they cannot afford to fly or boats offer the most direct transport for a given route. In our case, the ship had been docked for a couple weeks and the voyage we were on was the first Flores-Sulawesi run in a month.

Our first indication of trouble came while waiting for the boat to arrive. We had been told that the arrival of the large PELNI ship would be the biggest event in town but the number of people piling up at the dock was well beyond our expectations. When the boat arrived and the gates finally opened it was an hours-long slow sweaty march to get on board.

To say that no cabins were available is something of an understatement–every space onboard was packed with people. There were piles of luggage (boxes and sacks as well as proper suitcases) everywhere. People claimed not only seats and every available space on the many decks but also space on stairs, banisters and railings. It was difficult even to move about the ship, let alone find a place to set down one’s bags and body.

Finding space


Getting comfortable

Lower down were the economy class bunks, not only crowded but also hot and sweaty with the air conditioning failing especially on the fourth deck, which was unbearably hot. The bathrooms were complete with showers, but the squat toilets were overflowing pools of dirty water. To put it crudely, I was reminded of diagrams of 17th century slave ships from history textbooks. We were told later that a woman had delivered a baby on board.

In the economy class sleeping area

It was hard to stomach the thought of the next twenty hours to Sulawesi. I imagined what the rush to the lifeboats would be like if something were to happen to the ship, unsurprised to see that people were already occupying the lifeboats as seating space. (Later, I figured that there were easily over 1,000 people on board and only about room for 750 on the lifeboats.) I wondered whether there was sufficient food, or sanitation facilities, for the crowds. In a couple moments of panic I thought we should disembark before we left port.

So where did we end up? Derek’s resourcefulness and pushiness again won the day. Through a door marked “crew only” on the sixth deck Derek noticed that some passengers had settled down in the air-conditioned hallway. They were mostly women and children, but a few feet away was another length of hallway, unclaimed. After convincing the crew member controlling access to let us in, Derek set our bags down and we made ourselves comfortable.

Our space

Down the hallway, to the left

Now, this hallway was the one leading directly to the bridge, and I thought that there was no chance that the crew would let us stay. Fortunately, they felt sorry for us (“Why aren’t you in first class?”) and let us stay, in almost the only open space on the boat. A woman who had gotten on earlier and was able to rent a crew cabin lent us a couple of mattresses, making our little home even more comfortable. The next morning, one of the crew invited us onto the bridge for tea and a chat. Sometimes we are so grateful of the hospitality and lenience shown to us as foreign travelers–it would have been so easy and fair to just say that we should tough it out with the other economy passengers, who had after all paid exactly the same fare that we had. Could we hope that such a rec
eption would be offered in a similar situation in the U.S. to overseas visitors? “You’re in America, learn to speak American” comes to mind.

The bridge. Calm seas, the PELNI boat on a bearing of 352 degrees.

Categories
technology

Traveling with Technology

People have asked us what we have on us, in terms of gadgets, and we thought that it would be illuminating to do a post on technology. First, an inventory:

Computer:
– MacBook laptop computer and charger
– 3 external hard drives
– stack of blank DVDs and CDs
– 1 FireWire cable
– 3 USB cables
– thumb drive

Camera:
– Canon digital SLR camera
– four lenses
– filters, extra lens caps
– 5 backup batteries
– two chargers
– 14 GB in compact flash
– compact flash reader
– Canon S70 for backup, videos and underwater use
– underwater casing for the S70

Others:
– iPod touch and cable
– GPS unit for geocoding with two chargers (wall and car)
– two backup batteries for GPS unit
– Motorola cell phone and backup battery
– flashlights / headlamps
– two watches and an alarm clock
– various adaptors

How many outlets do we need in our hotel room? Only one, but that’s because we also carry a power strip.

A rundown:

A computer is pretty much essential for our trip. First, given the volume of photographs that Derek takes, it would be simply impracticable to store the photographs any other way than by carrying our own personal computer. The computer is also essential for processing the photographs, both for selling and for posting on the blog. Second, having the computer lets us write blog entries and emails offline, for uploading when there is an internet connection. Third, having our own computer along simplifies handling of our finances and other affairs back home. The choice of a MacBook was a no-brainer (especially helpful, Macs have great WiFi reception and handling). Why three external drives? One for supplemental space because our MacBook hard drive was not big enough (although we recently installed a new 320 GB drive), another (the only USB 2.0 drive, the others being FireWire) for backups and the third an emergency drive with the system and other essential software in case we have some sort of failure on the MacBook drive. The thumb drive is for moving files to/from internet cafe computers when we cannot hook up our laptop directly.

Getting our laptop online deserves perhaps its own discussion. The cheapest and most convenient access is, of course, free WiFi. We’ve found free WiFi not only in upscale cafes and restaurants all over the world but in some budget hotels. In relatively developed places, an open network can be found using our iPod Touch simply by walking down the street, and we’ve used such random open networks in cities such as Hamedan in Iran and Kashgar in China. In heavily touristed places, such as parts of India and Indonesia, and in some other relatively sophisticated places, such as Damascus and Kuala Lumpur, internet cafes have had desks set up for customer laptops–you simply connect via ethernet and pay the same rate as you would for a computer. Some Chinese hotels (including notably the Super 8 chain) offer free wired access, and in a couple instances we’ve paid the extortionate rates for access at more upscale hotels. Getting our own computer online is far more efficient than using an internet cafe computer, as you might imagine.

The camera equipment is pretty self-explanatory. We purchased a second charger in Iran because, a couple times, we found ourselves dangerously close to not having sufficient batteries charged and because the charger was a weak link–if something happened to it in a remote location, we would be without the use of our camera. Our backup camera uses the same battery as the SLR, allowing us to travel with one set of batteries and chargers.

The “others” category requires perhaps the most explanation:

– We use the iPod touch not only for listening to podcasts on long bus rides, but also as a WiFi detector. If we’re walking along a commercial street in a decent-sized city in a reasonably developed country, odds are not bad that someone will have left an open WiFi signal, and we can do some quick emailing and surfing using the iPod itself or sit down and take out our MacBook. The iPod touch is also a great tool for photo show-and-tell.
– We purchased a Wintec G-Rays 2 GPS logger in Taipei and use it in combination with HoudahGPS and HoudahGeo to geotag all our photos. We aren’t currently doing anything with the GPS data, but we figure, in the future, we can put together some interesting displays using the data. The GPS battery lasts only one day and is our “weakest link,” power-wise, and so we carry around a car-charger for it as well (which we used in Tajikistan).
– We decided to carry a phone for a few reasons. For one, we thought it useful in case of an emergency. Second, while roaming rates for calls are too expensive for casual use, we can use the phone to send/receive SMSs to/from friends and family, or people we meet on the road (since other long-term travelers also generally have phones). Finally, in countries where we are staying for a few weeks, we buy local SIM cards (generally quite cheap) and use the phone to make local calls, such as for making hotel reservations. We chose a Motorola phone that can be charged through our computer over USB so that we would not have to carry a separate charger.
– We carry around two headlamps and one flashlight, all LEDs.

We may be able to trim one hard drive, but all of our other gear is pretty essential to what we want to accomplish on the road. Every time we settle into a room, we take stock of what needs to be charged; if we are without power for a day or two (such as remote locations or overnight transport), we are even more careful the next day. The weight is considerable–probably more than our clothes, although perhaps less than the books we carry. Theft risk means that we are extremely careful, carrying on our person or storing in our hotel room the most valuable items depending on the risk profile of a given country. Ever since meeting in Ethiopia a Japanese couple that had had their laptop (with thousands of photos and many months of journal entries) stolen from their Egyptian hotel room, we tend to err on the side of carrying it on our person (trading risk of hotel theft for increased risk of physical damage). When packing we take care to separate redundant systems into separate packs in case one is lost or stolen.

Categories
Indonesia photo religion

Islam in Indonesia

August has been something of a “vacation” from our trip for us, not only because we are spending less time on our photos and blog but also because travel in Southeast Asia is so easy and pleasurable. In keeping with the theme of our year, however, we felt that we should “vacation” in an Islamic country, and so are in Islam’s easternmost bastion: Indonesia. (Although Islam exists in parts of the Philippines, Thailand, China, etc., Indonesia and Malaysia are the only majority Islamic countries east of Bangladesh.)

Although fortunately for Indonesia it is not at the core of vexing geopolitical and security problems, like places such as Pakistan, Iran or Palestine, Indonesia’s size alone merits attention. As you may know, Indonesia is the largest Islamic country in the world, with over 200 million Muslims, far more than in Pakistan, India or Bangladesh (the countries with the second, third and fourth largest Muslim populations, respectively) or any country in the Middle East. Indonesia is also the fourth most populous country in the world (after China, India and the U.S.) and geographically one of the most expansive, stretching from Sumatra west of the Malay Peninsula to Papua near Australia. Indonesia is also of interest because it presents Islam at its greatest geographical and cultural distance from its Arabian roots.

Islam came to Indonesia in the eleventh or twelfth century through the Indian Subcontinent, brought by Indian and Arabian traders riding the monsoon winds across the Indian Ocean. Islam was the third major religion to reach Indonesia from India–previously, Hinduism and Buddhism had come from India to dominate the Indonesian archipelago, leaving behind the rich Hindu cultures of Java and Bali and monuments such as the Buddhist temple of Borobudur. When Moroccan traveler Ibn Battuta was in now Indonesia in the fourteenth century, only the extreme western island of Sumatra was Muslim–now, the Dar al-Islam stretches all the way east through Java, Lombok and Sumbawa (“skipping” Bali, which remains Hindu) and includes Sulawesi and the Moluccas to the north. The next island to the east, Catholic Flores, has a substantial Muslim population, and it is fair to expect that, in another five hundred years, Islam will have spread yet farther. But for now, at least, Indonesia feels very much a country at the fringe of the Islamic world, and this shows not only in demographics but in people’s attitudes.

While Indonesia is over 85% Muslim, there are significant religious minorities, as in many other Islamic countries. What makes the religious minorities of Indonesia somewhat more significant than religious minorities in other Islamic countries, however, is that Indonesia is so large that the minority groups actually dominate certain regions. Bali, famously, is Hindu, holding on to the ancient traditions that at one time thrived in much of Sumatra and Java. Given its cultural uniqueness, and its great wealth generated by tourism, Bali is likely to succeed in fiercely holding onto its traditions despite being a small part of a majority Muslim country. Other places, such as Flores and the Toraja region of Sulawesi, are largely Christian, or Christian and animist. Because minority religious groups dominate entire islands, or at least regions within an island, they are able to express themselves publicly and cohesively in a way that would be more difficult were such minority populations sequestered in small ghettoes in majority Muslim cities. Such local power likely makes it more difficult for the national government to pursue nationwide Islamic policies, given the very real fears of rebellion or secession in a country that spans thousands of islands in as many miles.

A parade float on Flores suggesting harmony among the three most important religions of Indonesia: Islam, Christianity and Hinduism

Christian church, Flores. In the city of Labuanbajo on the Catholic island of Flores, however, the muezzin’s call to prayer seemed as loud as in any Islamic city, showing perhaps the confidence of the Muslim population even in places where it is a minority.

Christian students on parade, Toraja, Sulawesi

Christian church set amid traditional tongkonan, Toraja, Sulawesi

Festival, Toraja, Sulawesi. Pork eating is a particularly proudly upheld element of Torajan and Balinese culture, no doubt in part because it distinguishes them from the Muslim majority (well, and because pork is so delicious)

Given the geographical remoteness of parts of Indonesia, and the lateness of the arrival of some of the world’s major religions, religious syncretism is a common phenomenon, and one by which Islam also is affected. Wektu Tulu is a special syncretic religion found on Lombok, believed to be a combination of Hinduism, Islam and animism.

Man at Hindu/Wektu Tulu temple, Lombok

Despite the dominance of Islam as a faith on the islands of Java and Lombok, the cultural residue of Hinduism is tremendous. For example, the courtly arts of Java are all based on the great Hindu epics, and superstitions and beliefs based on Hinduism and animism are very much alive throughout the archipelago.

Perhaps the most palpable difference for the traveler, however, between Islam in Indonesia and in parts of the Middle East, is not a matter of dogma but of attitude. In terms of general atmosphere, Indonesia is just another Southeast Asian country, not too dissimilar from Thailand or the Philippines. People are relaxed and friendly, and there are essentially no restrictions on tourists’ ability to interact on a casual basis with women as well as men. Some women may wear cover, but often with tight-fitting t-shirts or jeans, and even women in cover often like having their photos taken. As in Thailand or the Philippines, there is a large and visible transgendered population, which seems reasonably accepted by the general population (post to come). Fanaticism seems essentially not in evidence; it is unfortunate that the country has become associated with terrorism following the bombs in Bali.

Children outside a mosque, Lombok. Children are easily interrupted from prayer and run to have their photos taken. The adults continued praying without pause, but later came to greet us.

But just as the world is getting to be a smaller place, there are signs that orthodoxy and standardization are creeping into Indonesian religious practice. The number of large mosques going up on Lombok and around Indonesia is astounding–almost every town in Lombok seemed to be building or rebuilding its mosque. (If anyone has any insight into this–in terms of who or what is driving this in terms of motivation or financing–please let me know.)

Mosque parts on sale, Flores

Perhaps most interestingly, the architectural style of Indonesian mosques seems to be transforming. There is a uniquely Indonesian style of mosque reminiscent of Indonesian Hindu architecture, seen in some of the oldest mosques in the country. At least some of these bale-style mosques seem to be in the process of being replaced by more typically Arabian/Turkish style mosques in the current building spree.

Traditional Indonesian Mosque, Yogyakarta, Java

Mosque construction, Lombok

Does this imply foreign financing or influence? I’m not sure, but there is of course a great deal of wealth being generated in Gulf Arab states, some of which is being used to promote Islam across the world (I have read that there was a similar revival in the late 70s). The Islamic world as a network is in many ways being brought tighter, as countries such as Malaysia market their cars and universities across the Middle East and, we were told, Arab interests are investing in Kuta Lombok to create a resort intended to be the next Bali at least partly aimed at the Muslim market. Let us hope that, at least in this instance, a smaller world does not mean a more homogenized one, one in which the uniquely Indonesian form of Islam gives way to orthodoxy, Indonesian domestic relations supplanted by Arabian gender roles and elegant Javanese culture discarded on account of its Hindu foundation.

Women’s religious gathering, Makassar, Sulawesi (note the Arab dress of the speakers)

Categories
China Iran photo Syria Tajikistan Turkmenistan

Chinese Exports

Chinese trucks carrying goods over the Qolma Pass from China to Tajikistan

We all know that China’s economy has flourished largely on its exports, and that the volume of Chinese exports is tremendous, but even so it has been interesting seeing in person Chinese goods across the world, as well as their effects on local economies.

One of the first and oddest visibly Chinese products we saw on our trip were these rear view mirror decorations in Syria and Iran. It was peculiar especially because of the disjunction between the clearly traditional Chinese “good-luck” design and the Islamic “Allah” in Arabic script. We imagined a factory in Guangdong Province somewhere churning these out, not knowing what it says or for where it is destined; whereever the factory may actually be, I think that the trinkets are actually produced largely for domestic consumption in Muslim Xinjiang (where we also saw them).

The Syrian driver whose car this was in didn’t even recognize the red and gold ornament as Made in China!

Given the historical influence of Russia in Central Asia, we were surprised to find that the trains in Turkmenistan were Chinese-built. They were brand new and fairly luxurious, especially considering the absurdly cheap (and clearly subsidized) fares. The train we took in Iran (also new and comfortable) was also Chinese built, as were the cars of the Tehran Metro. The Tehran Metro cars, we think, are exactly the same as Hong Kong MTR cars!

On the Tehran Metro

Chinese automobiles are also making headway around the world. In addition to Chery dealerships in Iran and elsewhere, we saw long convoys of new Chinese minivans coming over the Qolma Pass from China into Tajikistan, sometimes filled with other Chinese products such as toilet paper. The Chinese minivans are fast becoming the main mode of public transit on the Pamir Highway. We were told that, prior to the arrival of the minivans, it was sometimes hard to find any public transport, with waits of a day or two for a car. With the cheap Chinese vans ($4000-6000, and with lower maintenance costs than other, older vehicles), there are more cars and cheaper rides. The vans even had Five Friendlies seat covers, with their names in Cyrillic (the script used in Tajikistan)!

Another example of cheap Chinese products improving the world–solar energy. Living in remote locations in the high Pamirs, the Kyrgyz in Tajikistan have no access to any other electricity and no doubt the ability to have music during the day and reading light at night is a welcome luxury in their lives of privation. We were told that they used smoky oil lamps before the solar power came along.

Yurt solar power

We were able to trace the solar panels to the place where they were likely once purchased–Kashgar’s Sunday Market.

To many Americans, the availability of cheap Chinese goods might mean DVD players in the kids’ rooms or a nicer iPod; to Tajikistan, Chinese manufacturing efficiency has brought transportation, music and light.

Unfortunately, the Chinese are exporting ill habits as well. We were told by a Hunza man that the Chinese have proposed to expand the Karakoram Highway to four lanes, with parallel rail lines and gas pipelines. The cultural and natural setting of Northern Pakistan is a fragile one, and no doubt such “progress” would be devastating. Such destruction and environmental degradation are being exported elsewhere as well, for example in Southeast Asia where the Chinese are buying up huge amounts of raw materials to feed their growing economy–in Laos Derek saw a new highway to speed up the transport of timber into Yunnan Province, and the forests of Indonesia are coming down at a startling rate.

As the Chinese economy grows, its impact on the world will become greater and greater, and the scale of the country is such–unimaginable to those who have not been there–that it will be felt in every corner on Earth. From people to products to ideas, we can only hope that the Chinese contribution will be a net positive one.

Categories
airports photo Singapore

Changi Layover

We’ve been through Singapore’s Changi Airport many times, both on trips to Singapore and on layovers, but never really understood why it is ranked as one of the world’s greatest. From what we saw, the old-fashioned design of Terminals 1 and 2 put Changi squarely among the older airports of the U.S. rather than the likes of Hong Kong or Incheon, and while the subway access is convenient Changi didn’t seem particularly more efficient than many other, newer airports, either. Faced with a 13 hour layover in Singapore on our way from Hong Kong to Indonesia, we thought that we would put Changi up for a test–we spent the entire layover in the airport. Final assessment? Changi is indeed something special–perhaps not quite as streamlined Hong Kong or Incheon, or Beijing’s new Terminal 3, but very much a self-contained city with an outstanding range of spaces and services for travelers.

Changi is unique among the airports I can think of for having people movers on both the “land” and “air” sides of each terminal, making it easy to change terminals not only for connections but also simply to visit a store or amenity in another terminal. The Skytrains are fast and frequent.

Changi’s Terminal 3 opened in early 2008. I think the design is just as beautiful as other new airports around the world, but it shares with the other Singapore terminals a certain “closedness,” compared to other new airport designs that focus on maximizing window area throughout the terminal. This may be to promote energy efficiency (Singapore being a hot and sunny place) or to create a more controlled, “mall-like” interior where time stands still, day merging into night (cf. my post of 3.29 on air conditioning).



One of the nice design elements of Changi is extravagant use of plant life. This “fern garden” is in Terminal 2. (There are also orchid, cactus and sunflower gardens.)

Singapore has a larger number of facilities and services for travelers than any other airport I can think of.

There’s plenty of food, some open 24 hours. I’m not sure whether Changi is a starter or follower of the trend, but most food is priced as it would be in town–no airport surcharge (cf. post of 7.30 on expensive coffee). Singapore of course has some of the tastiest varieties of food in the world, and so does its airport.

The most comfortable free sleeping space of any airport I know, a feature that justifies Changi’s high ranking at sleepinginairports.com. Sure beats rolling out our sleeping bags and getting bitten by mosquitoes in Nairobi’s airport!

Singapore also takes the prize in the largest number of free internet terminals–they are everywhere. There are also laptop stations with live power and ethernet plugs (BYOC). But thumbs down on the free Wi-Fi–we had trouble getting registered on the principal airport-wide system, although we were able to find other open networks here and there.

A rubbing to pass the time!

In Terminal 3, a free movie theater, playing a decent selection of relatively recent movies

In addition to all of the free facilities and services, there are many fee services at Changi. There is a pay lounge which offers, as the list on the right states: lounge use, massage, hair services, aqua massage spa, foot reflexology, nail services, gym, shower and nap room. The prices are not cheap, but not unreasonable.

And, would you believe it–there’s a (pay) pool in T1.

For a solid night’s sleep, the Ambassador Transit Hotel offers rooms within each terminal. Even if you are not able to get a reservation, try dropping by–there may be space available. The rate is around SGD 80 (~USD 42) for six hours, a pretty good deal for an airport transit hotel, especially in a city as expensive as Singapore.

If you want to leave the airport, there are free city tours as well as shuttle services into town for transit passengers.

How did our 13 hours go? We made good use of the internet, saw a movie, ate well and slept comfortably. When it was time to catch our flight, it was without the sense of relief that one might have expected, and we were certainly more rested than when we had arrived. If Changi itself were a destination, it certainly would beat many other places we’ve been!

Categories
Ethiopia Korea queer

Police!

We’re not proud of this, and it is really with some shame that I admit it, but we have had more than our share of run-ins with police around the world. To wit, Cambodia, Ethiopia, India, Bahrain, Madagascar, Korea, . . . , and most recently China. Given this wealth of experience, I thought that it would be fun to do a post relating our experience, with perhaps stories of one or two of the most interesting incidents.

We usually bring in the police because we have a dispute with some local person. Sometimes we feel that we’ve been overcharged and seek to explain to an official why we are withholding payment, or we otherwise feel that we’ve been wronged and the police are called in to intermediate. Since we only let it escalate to that level when we are clearly in the right, the resolution is usually in our favor, but at any rate it can be helpful to have official mediation. (Contrary to what you may suspect, local police generally do not immediately take the side of the local and assume that the foreigners are in the wrong.)

My favorite story, the one I most often tell, takes place in the foreigner ghetto of Itaewon in Seoul. Derek and I were out late one night near some gay bars in Itaewon, and were walking down a small street in order to catch a cab back home, when I suddenly heard, in English, “Check that one in the black t-shirt.” Now, I was wearing a black shirt at the time, but I did not think that anyone could be referring to me. A few steps later, I was stopped by a group of four U.S. MPs and two Korean police. The MPs asked me for my identification. Now, it was around midnight, and I knew that at the time (a sort of peak in anti-American/anti-military sentiment in Korea due to a recent accident involving the deaths of two young Korean girls) the U.S. armed forces in Korea were subject to an 11 p.m. curfew, and so I figured that the solders thought that I might be a U.S. soldier violating my curfew. After a slight pause I decided that I would on absolutely no account show them any identification. There were so many things wrong with the situation. First, and foremost, why were the U.S. MPs patrolling the streets of Seoul, asking anyone for their identification? Second, why would they pick me, an Asian person, to check? Shouldn’t they at least focus on people who look typically American rather than someone who is just as or more likely to be Korean? Third, why were they set up right next to the gay bars? I thought to myself, even if these MPs were in the U.S., there is no way that I would do their bidding, why the hell should I be doing it here? If I, a lawyer, do not stand up for my rights, who will?

I told the MPs that I was in fact a U.S. citizen but that I was not a soldier and that they had no business asking me for identification. They suggested that they had the authority to check me because I am a U.S. citizen–I told them that that was nonsense. The Korean police officers who were patrolling with them asked me to cooperate. I explained politely but firmly that I understood exactly why the MPs were doing what they were doing, but that I found their methods objectionable and misguided. The dispute went on and a crowd started to gather. For the most part, people were cheering us on–bystanders (mostly gay westerners) taunted the MPs with their own IDs. Eventually, they gave up and the MPs stormed off with the Korean police in tow.

Satisfied, we started walking back toward the main road when a young Korean man who identified himself as the owner of one of the bars stopped us to congratulate us on our victory. He himself (despite his clearly non-native English) had been ID’d the week before, and was relieved that somebody had finally said “no”. He said that we must come back to his bar for a drink on the house. Not wanting to be unappreciative, we went back and were enjoying a glass of wine when the Korean police came back.

The police explained that the U.S. MPs were making a big deal of this situation and simply would not let the matter drop–they demanded my identification. I assured the Korean police that I was not U.S. military, and appealed to their sense of justice and national pride that foreign armed forces were ordering them around. They remained firm, and I said that I would just go home, as originally planned–they could either arrest me or let me leave. I started walking away, but the police followed, eventually to a street with prostitution. A working woman stationed obviously outside her place of business was curious at our late night dispute and got involved, asking what the matter was. “If you’re not a soldier, just show them your identification,” she said. Derek pointed out that there was an outright violation of law in front of the officers (prostitution), but that instead they were wasting their time with me. The police at one point suggested that I get in their car, to which Derek protested by saying that he would then be stranded and lost and in danger (though really what kind of danger would an English-speaking foreigner be in “lost” in Seoul), persuading them not to take me.

Finally, the police argued that they had a right to check my papers for my immigration status, given that I had acknowledged that I was not a Korean citizen. I was annoyed by this, given that U.S. citizens do not even require a visa to visit Korea, but could not dispute the legitimacy of the request. Even in the U.S., I thought, this request would likely be within the law. I said that I would allow them a glance at my passport picture and entry stamp, just to verify that I was in the country legally. I made them promise not record my name in order to pass it along to the MPs. I showed them my passport–I had to sort of yank it back in order for them not to retain it–and they were satisfied, although not looking forward to returning to the MPs empty-handed. From our taxi on our way back home we saw the MPs leaving the Korean police station, where they had apparently been waiting for me.

This was perhaps the police incident that took the largest amount of time to resolve, but there was at least no chance of physical or legal danger. That prize would go to Ethiopia, generally a very safe country, where the police offered to extricate us from a somewhat angry mob by essentially arresting us. Thankfully, we were able to avoid both the mob and the police with the assistance of an armed and sympathetic guide.

Categories
Kazakhstan Korea Kyrgyzstan photo Uzbekistan

Korea in Central Asia

I sometimes think of the world in networks. The most simple of these networks are contiguous. For example, the Scandinavian countries share so much in culture and history that they cannot help but be interconnected. Such geographically tight networks also include the Andean countries of South America and the chopstick countries of east Asia. There are also the colonial empires, which persist to this day as cultural and economic networks. The sun still doesn’t set on the British-led Commonwealth of Nations, and Macau held the first Lusofonia Games, at which the Portuguese-speaking countries competed (as may be expected, the Brazilians won most of the events). We met in Aleppo a Quebecois woman attending a francophone literary conference. Other networks are even broader, such as the Arab, Islamic or Turkish worlds. Despite differences in language and culture, a Palestinian Arab identifies with an Arab from the Gulf or the Maghrib as a kinsman. Our bed and breakfast hosts in Uzbekistan vacationed in Langkawi, and we met many Iranians who were going to study abroad in Malaysia. The route network of Turkish Airways shows that Turkey is laying a sort of claim and influence on all of Central Asia (even non-Turkic Tajik Dushanbe has several Turkish restaurants and grocery stores), and we saw imports of Turkish food products in Xinjiang, China.

For a relatively small country (though admittedly one with one of the world’s largest economies), it can be somewhat surprising to see how widely distributed Koreans and Korean influence are. One rough gauge of the relative prominence of Korea and Koreans in a place is to see how people identify me, clearly an east Asian–their first guess indicates which of China, Japan or Korea has had the greatest impact on the area. For example, in Peru, where there is a significant local Chinese population, or in places where there is really very little interaction at all with east Asians, such as Ethiopia, people will assume that all east Asians are Chinese–not a bad guess, considering that China is almost ten times the size of Japan and over twenty times the size of Korea. In places that receive many Japanese tourists, such as Hawaii or Bali, people will assume that I am Japanese. In some places, Korea is the first guess; since Korea is much smaller than either China or Japan, this likely means that Korea has a relatively large footprint in the area, either because Korean tourists outnumber other east Asian tourists (as in, say, Boracay or Laos) or because of other ties between the place and Korea. One such place is Central Asia.

Perhaps the most important instance of Korea in Central Asia is the large number of ethnic Koreans (around 500,000) living in Central Asia, primarily Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. Koreans ended up in Central Asia by force, deported by Stalin from the Russian Far East (where they had been living not far from the Korean border) during World War II for fear that they would assist the Japanese. (While it is true that Korea was part of the Japanese Empire during the first half of the twentieth century, it seems unrealistic that Koreans would have been aiding their occupiers.) The Korean minority is quite visible in Uzbekistan. There are Korean restaurants in all the major cities and the Korean cold noodle dish naengmyeon is a common light meal in Tashkent, where it is called by the Russo-Korean name “kykcy,” meaning noodles.

Ethnic Korean woman selling “salads,” essentially Korean banchan, in a Samarkand market

I’ve spoken to several ethnic Koreans in Uzbekistan. While their lives have been somewhat complicated by the dissolution of the Soviet Union (during Soviet times the Koreans generally spoke Russian and associated with the Russian population rather than assimilating with the local Central Asian populations), it seems that they live quite comfortably, both culturally and materially, in Central Asia. I was told that they face no serious discrimination, and that they are accepted as part of the ethnic collage that is Central Asia. Since about 60 years have passed since the forced migration, most of the ethnic Koreans in Central Asia were born there (and even the elderly who were not born in Central Asia probably called the Russian Far East, and not Korea, home, prior to the move).

Korean woman, Tashkent

The second most visible instance of Korea in Central Asia are Korean products, which are everywhere in Central Asia. I suppose in some ways it is a natural market for Korea, being the next stop west on the Silk Road from China, and I also think that perhaps Korea is filling a vacuum left by the departure of noncompetitive Soviet products from the market. Korean electronics, automobiles, clothes, food products–all are in abundant supply.

Korean products for sale, from undergarments to electronics

Almost every car in Uzbekistan is an Uz-Daewoo, a joint venture of Daewoo Motors.

The ever-popular Choco-Pie, on sale in Tajikistan

An increasingly important category of Korean exports is cultural exports. Korea has become something of a pop culture capital of Asia, with Korean television shows in particular being shown all over the continent, from the Philippines to Vietnam to Mongolia to Uzbekistan. After identifying me as Korean, many Uzbeks would immediately reference the television show Jumong (which I have never seen). One tourist we met said that in Mongolia, the government requires special breaks during marathon Korean programming so that people would remember to feed their livestock!

Korean television shows and actors being used to sell merchandise. The Jumong t-shirts are extremely popular, worn by children all over Uzbekistan. As the American example has shown, cultural exports can be an extremely powerful way to market a country and its products–I’ve also seen Korean musicians pitching real estate developments in Vietnam.

The success of Korean football, especially since the 2002 World Cup, has also been greatly positive for Korea in terms of global recognition–people we meet on our travels often call out to me names of Korean football players (most of whom I’ve never heard of, not being a fan). Those red Korean fan t-shirts are making their way around the world–we’ve even seen them worn by negritos in a village near Mt. Pinatubo in the Philippines!

Finally, and perhaps most surprisingly, are the Central Asians who have lived in Korea for work. With local wages high Korea has begun to import manpower. While the number of foreign workers in Korea is nowhere near the levels of some other countries, Korea seems to import them from particularly far and wide, with a large number of Uzbeks having worked in Korea. We’re not sure why this is, but perhaps there is some sort of proto-Altaic connection between Koreans and Central Asians (one Uzbek man told me several words that are similar in Korean and Uzbek), or perhaps ethnic Koreans in Central Asia started the trend of going to Korea for work. Another theory is that Korea issues visas to Uzbeks preferentially because they are seen as more “desirable” than, say, south Asians, or, because they are less able to blend in, less likely to try to overstay their visas than southeast Asians. I have been approached several times by Korean-speaking Uzbeks, not only in Uzbekistan but also in an Uzbek area of Kyrgyzstan. Given that few non-Koreans speak Korean, to hear an Uzbek out of the blue address you in Korean is quite a shocking experience. Since few Uzbeks speak English, Uzbekistan is perhaps the only country in the world where speaking Korean in addition to English can help you get around (especially because many former expatriate workers seem now to drive taxis). I was relieved to hear from those who had worked in Korea that their experience was positive, and a Korean traveler can expect to be the lucky recipient of much residual good will.

Our Sarmarkand taxi driver, who had worked in Korea for a couple of years and planned to return in hopes of establishing a trading company