You Gotta Be Kidding Me!

My friend Mark, the English Language Fellow in Makassar, is also a diver and came up to Gorontalo this past weekend for his first visit, lured by my blog posts about whale shark sightings. Although we didn’t see any whale sharks this weekend, Mark enjoyed his time here tremendously and said the diving here was the best he’s ever done – and he’s dived the Red Sea, Bunaken, Bali and, of course, Makassar. He was thrilled with the colorful and abundant corals, the swirling schools of fish, the deep caverns, and the “swim through” at Sand Channels. The phrase he kept repeating with awe throughout the weekend was, “You gotta be kidding me!” Yep, that’s Gorontalo!

We also had two very memorable surface intervals between dives. On the first day after the second dive, we pulled into the fishing village of Olele to eat our lunch of tuna and rice, which had been prepared for us by the boat captain’s wife. Not long after we arrived, a small traditional fishing canoe pulled up next to us with its catch of the day – a very big yellowfin tuna! And the men had caught it with a hand line, imagine that. We followed them to the cleaning station where they gutted and weighed it. It was 62 kilos, which they said would fetch about 1.5 million rupiahs at the market (about $165). They asked us how much such a fish would get in the America but we had no idea. So we just posed for pictures with the tuna before we watched the men expertly cut it into pieces. Tuna is a very big part of the local diet in Gorontalo.

The next day we had just climbed back on the boat after our first dive when we heard one of the boat crew cry out, “Lumba-lumba!” This is one of the handful of Indonesian words I know – dolphins! There was a pod of Risso’s dolphins swimming off in the distance. The boat crew carefully maneuvered the boat a bit closer and we spent a good part of the surface interval watching these beautiful creatures swim and dive around the boat. I counted at least nine but there may have been more. It was hard to tell because they kept going underwater and resurfacing. For Mark, this moment was extra special because it was his first time seeing dolphins in the wild.

Even after the diving was over, Gorontalo continued to impress. On the way back to the dock after the last dive of the day, we passed pristine beaches and majestic limestone cliffs. As we pulled into the river, an extremely large bird flew overhead. Mark took one look, shook his head in disbelief and said, “Of course”. I smiled in response as I watched the Brahminy kite soar above the river. That night, after a bit of jalan-jalaning in a bentor, we went to a seaside restaurant to enjoy some ikan bakar with dabu-dabu iris by the ocean. We just missed the sunset, but we had plenty of time to linger over our food and chocolate ice cream while enjoying the cool ocean breezes. Mark confided that he thinks I quite possibly have the best site out of all the ELFs this year.

Unfortunately, he had to return to Makassar after only two full days in Gorontalo. On Sunday I went diving again and, wouldn’t you know, on my 50^th dive I saw a blacktip reef shark! I posted this sighting as my Facebook status and Mark was the first one to comment: “You gotta be KIDDING me!!!!!” He will be back again soon.

Diving in Gorontalo

On Sunday I went diving for the first time in Gorontalo and the experience was so remarkable that I can only relate it to maybe living in Paris for nearly three months before finally seeing the Eiffel Tower. I finally had that “pinch me I’m here” moment that hits every tourist when they finally visit a place they’ve always dreamed of seeing, like the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Gorontalo may not have much to offer tourists above ground, but the underwater world here offers first-class diving and the opportunity to see various endemic species found only in these waters, many of which are still unknown to science.

The local dive shop, Miguel’s Diving, is run by Rantje Allen, an American who has lived in Gorontalo for over ten years and has done a lot of work in establishing dive sites and educating local fishing communities about the dangers of common fishing practices, such as blast fishing and potassium cyanide poisoning. He works closely with the governor of Gorontalo, who is also a diver, on marine conservation issues. It was a privilege to dive with him. Along with Rantje, there was an American from Ohio, two Swedes from Stockholm and Rantje’s local assistant dive guide, Yunis, on this trip.

Our first dive was at Swirling Steps, a site normally not recommended for inexperienced divers because of its strong currents. But on Sunday there was no current so down we went. The water looked so clear from the dive boat that I was doubtful about doing a back roll entry because it looked like I was going to hit my head on the coral! But I was reassured that the coral was actually several meters underwater. For the next 44 minutes I was submerged in a world of sheer exotic beauty. Rantje had a writing slate with him and helpfully wrote down the names of some of the creatures we saw. Not long into the dive, he turned towards me and made a punching-like motion with his fist. This is the diving signal for “danger”. Intrigued, I looked past him to the coral wall as he scribbled “scorpionfish” on his slate. Scorpionfish have venomous fin spines and are not to be messed with. In worse case scenarios, scorpionfish stings can lead to violent pain, unconsciousness and even extended comas. After taking a look from a safe distance we moved on. Some other curious creatures we saw included garden eels and jaw fish. Garden eels stick up from the sand and sort of move their bodies like a beckoning finger. Likewise, jaw fish also live in the sand and poke their heads up to see what’s going on. Other highlights included seeing a blue spotted stingray, a giant clam and the best one of all - a green sea turtle!

The second dive was at Traffic Circle, located right off Olele Beach, where I had previously gone with some students; from the dive boat I could even see the hut we sat at. More captivating than the hut though, was the pod of Risso’s dolphins that were swimming in the distance. These dolphins are distinguished by their blunt noses and the fact that their bodies become lighter in color as they age, while their dorsal fins remain dark. They also like to fight each other, which explains the scars below:

We all watched the dolphins for a while and then some of us hopped overboard to snorkel for a bit. It felt so liberating to be in the water sans scuba gear with just my swimsuit, mask and snorkel and it was exciting to know that the dolphins were frolicking just meters away.

The second dive brought even more surprises. Rantje’s assistant, Yunis, is an expert in spotting very small creatures. On this dive, he showed us all a teeny, tiny bright pink soft coral crab that was clinging to some coral. Remarkably, this soft coral crab has the ability to mimic the spiny appearance of the coral it is on. How cool is that? I also saw my first Salvador Dali sponges - the name that Rantje gave to these previously unknown giant sponges that resemble a surreal Dali painting with their ornately swirly carvings. This is the only place in the world where these sponges exist. Other endemic species we saw were cigar sponges and a small fish known as a yellow blenny. And I probably swam by countless other endemic species without even realizing it. That is part of the reason why diving in Gorontalo is so thrilling.

The third dive was at a site called Honeycomb East, not too far from Traffic Circle. The big feature of this dive was a “swim through”, a hole in the reef that you can swim through. Even though you can see the other side from the entrance, I decided to swim around instead, since I haven’t been trained in overhead environments. Like Traffic Circle, there were numerous Salvador Dali and cigar sponges here. There were also Napoleon wrasse (some pretty big fish!) and beautifully colored clown triggerfish with black and white polka dots. A highlight of this dive was seeing a yellow pufferfish taking a nap in a coral crevice. So cute!

That night all of us divers (minus Yunis, but plus the American’s wife and her friend) went out to dinner at a Chinese place in town. Over bowls of delicious wantons and fried rice, we chatted about diving in Sulawesi and life in Gorontalo. The two Swedes came to Gorontalo after a week of live-aboard diving in the Lembah Straits in north Sulawesi. A week of diving, eating, and sleeping on a live-aboard boat sounds like heaven! I hope I get the chance to do that while I’m in Indonesia.

All in all, Sunday was the best day I’ve had in Gorontalo to date. Like I said, it was really a “pinch me I’m here” kind of day. I see Gorontalo in a whole new light now and feel supremely lucky to be living here. I finally understand why the people at the dive shop back in NJ were so envious of me moving to Sulawesi!

Endless summer in Indonesia

“Endless summer” is what I thought as I sat in the front seat of a blue mikrolet with the window down, the sun shining in and random Indonesian pop songs blasting through the speakers as we drove past countless palm trees and up and down curvy roads that hugged the coast.

Mikrolets are a type of mini-van used as public transportation between local towns and villages when the distance you want to go is greater than what can reasonably be covered by bentor. These mikrolets differ from regular mini-vans in a number of significant ways. Most noticeably, there is just a big opening where you would expect to see a side door. This opening encourages people to stand on the runner, hold on to the roof and ride to their destination with their bodies completely OUTSIDE of the car. Secondly, instead of a regular-sized steering wheel there is a mini steering wheel that is about the size of a small dinner plate. Then there’s the music. To entertain riders on the journey from one village to the next, drivers blast a playlist of the latest hit songs. The stereo equipment in these mikrolets seems to be the most advanced technology in the entire car. Finally, for reasons I have yet to figure out, emblazoned across the windshields in cursive script are random words that might be used to indentify each vehicle. Memorably, I have seen ones labeled “Sexy” and “Obama”.

On the road in a mikrolet:

I had been invited to accompany a literature class to the beach. The apparent purpose of the expedition was to lead the students to water and let them be inspired to write poetry in English. When we arrived at Olele Beach, we trooped over volcanic rock and mounds of abandoned coconut husks to get to a little platform where we hung out for about an hour. The two lecturers instructed the students to “be inspired” and then retreated to a bench to chat. The students, meanwhile, seemed more interested in taking pictures with me than writing poetry. But who knows, maybe I’ll be mentioned in their poems later! Stranger things have happened.

Here’s a picture of me with some of the students at Olele:

I had been looking forward to going to Olele because I had heard it was such a great snorkeling and diving spot. But the water was pretty inaccessible, unless you wanted to climb over lots of painful volcanic rock. There was really no beach to speak of here. So, when the hour was up we packed up and moved to Molotabu Beach.

But before I get into that, let me digress briefly to tell you about my unusual bathroom experience here. After traveling for at least an hour over bumpy roads and guzzling an isotonic drink called Mi-Zone, I needed to pee badly as soon as we arrived. Of course, there is no such thing as public facilities here. I briefly considered peeing behind a tree or a rock, but knowing that 40 or so students were watching my every move, I reconsidered and asked one of the lecturers instead if he knew where I could pee. He led me down the path to a fisherman’s house and asked me to wait outside while he asked if it was ok. Since coming to Indonesia, I have been ushered inside many random houses to pee. Facilities have ranged from very nice to just a concrete floor off the side of the house with a bucket of water. But this experience beats them all.

After getting permission to enter the house, I hoisted myself up the step stool to the elevated bamboo floor. The house is probably the simplest thing you could imagine. There was an entry room with a small space for sleeping curtained off in the corner. After this came an even smaller room with a loose stone floor, a table and several plastic chairs. Beyond this was a tiny kitchen. There is where I was told to pee. On the kitchen floor. The floor was made of wooden planks and right in the middle of one was a sort of crudely made hole. Next to this was a bucket of water with a plastic scoop. I peered dubiously into the hole, noticing the little chickens that were walking around underneath. But when you have to go, you have to go. So I squatted down and did my business, feeling bad for the chickens below who got an unexpected shower. I cleaned myself off and glanced around at the dishes drying next me and wondered if this was really where the family pees or if this was actually just a hole to drain their cooking and washing water. Chances are they go to the bathroom somewhere outside behind a tree but wanted to offer me, the guest, something nicer. I thanked them graciously on my way out.

View of the fisherman’s house through the palm trees:

And here are some fishermen at work:

Back to the mikrolets and on to Molotabu Beach. This place was everything I imagined the local beaches to be. There was an actual beach, little shady huts with elevated bamboo platforms for sitting, vendors selling bottled drinks and food, boat and inner tube rentals and plenty of accessible coral reefs to explore with my mask and snorkel. I was in heaven. I grabbed my disposable waterproof camera that I had picked up in Bali and happily paddled around for a long time looking at the underwater life. There were giant blue starfish; black, white and yellow bannerfish; tiny electric blue fish; rainbowy colored fish; long thin pipefish of various sorts; and numerous other things that I couldn’t quite identify. One of them looked like a pufferfish or a boxfish, but I’m not sure. Another one looked alarmingly like a barracuda.

Molotabu Beach:

Group shot in one of the little huts:

Some underwater life:

Two of my students swam out to join me:

Lazy days at the beach make it hard for me to believe it’s October. I see Facebook status updates and read emails from home that recount apple picking, drinking mulled cider, eating pumpkin bread, and other very typical fall activities. Sometimes I have a strong urge to throw on a thick sweater and cuddle up in front of the fireplace with a hot beverage on a cool, crisp autumn day. Other times I think how lucky I am to be living my endless summer in Indonesia.