Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Bloody handprint adventure


  I should have known that the trip to and from Raja Ampat would be an adventure when it began with a Singapore airlines flight where I was sequestered before take off for being on a terror suspect list because of my name, (and no, Jennifer O'Neil doesn't sound like a terrorist name to me either).  Although I felt there was no hope of ever returning to the United States after the airline had asked to hold my passport and gave me every search in the book, things seemed to be looking up when the stewardess brought us some hot Krispy Kreme doughnuts.  Landing in Bali without any luggage wasn't really a problem.  I was assured that it was a simple mistake and had nothing to do with me being on a Singapore Airlines no fly list.  After I got to the Ritz Carlton in Jimbaren Bay, I decided that it wasn't necessary to have luggage or return to the US, I would simply become the Eloise of the Pacific and live my life in that hotel.  The traditional music playing while you feast on an incredible breakfast and watch the coy swimming under your feet was almost to serene to be true.  But all good things must come to an end and so we moved on to Makassar, our overnight stop on the way to Raja Ampat. 

 We land in Makassar during a torrential rain fall, monsoon flooding type rain fall.  Running for the taxi line included the usual expression of distress on the part of all the drivers that my dad and I each carry two large suitcases with all of our camera equipment.  So after the fruit basket turn over it takes to put us and all the other guests that were going on the liveaboard boat and had met us in Bali, into taxis, dad and I jump into the oldest minivan on earth.  It is quite hot and humid with the rain, even by Alabama standards, so dad reaches up to turn the air to full power.  A mistake you only make once.  I do not pretend to understand all the inner workings of the mini van, but I know it's not normal that huge chunks of rock, dirt and ash blasted out of the AC onto us like we were being sandblasted!  This sparked a lively discussion with our driver who assured us that the AC would work on a lower setting.  He also mentioned that this kind of rain reminded him of tsunami weather.  His words, "maybe tsunami tomorrow, you know tsunami?"  Oh yes, I assured him as he deposited us at our hotel on the water, we know tsunami.  
I was told many times that we were staying at the most palatial hotel in Makassar.  For one night, how bad could it be?  So we're not at the Ritz anymore, but this place had other charms.  Upon arrival we were greeted by Christmas decorations and a pygmy man (a culture found in the Papua area) dressed up as a mini Santa Claus.  I never expected to see santa in a Muslim country even during the Christmas holidays.  The Muslim influence was heard in the prayer call that was so loud from my room I decided to pull back the curtain and check out the view.  The picture above is of the bloody hand print that was on the other side of the curtain.  If you read the caption on it, I'm guessing someone was praying in the wrong direction and it came with a brutal punishment.  The arrow pointing to Mecca was pointing in the opposite direction of the hand print, not a mistake made twice apparently.  If you are reading this and thinking that one night of this kind of entertainment could not possibly be enough, don't worry our flights were canceled on the way home and we spent Christmas day in Makassar at our favorite hotel.  Same basic experience but I asked for the executive suite, same room, no bloody hand print, and at an up charge of $40USD.  Be sure to ask for that if you're in the area!

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