Drokpa Journal

Dates Traveled: July-September 2002

Bukittinggi on the island of Sumatra

Leaving Singapore turned out to be a long day - I caught the 7:30 AM ferry for the 45-minute trip to Batam, an Indonesian island. I immediately boarded a ferry for the 6 1/2-hour trip to mainland Sumatra and the town of Dumai. After waiting around for a bit I hopped on a mini-van for the 9 1/2-hour trip to Bukittinggi, arriving at 1:30 AM. Initial observations of the country? When we stopped the mini-van, there were actually places with toilets and we didn’t just have to use a bush or wall. Quite a change from India. What was written in huge letters across the back of the mini-van? “TALIBAN”. Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. I’d always known that Indonesia is the most populous Muslim country, but what I didn’t know until I started reading about it was that it’s actually the 4th most populous country overall - and not that far behind the US. Wouldn’t have guessed that. Your lesson for the day.

Bukittinggi was simply about getting acquainted with a new country - wandering the streets to try strange foods, talking to locals, checking out the great market, attending traditional dance performances, etc. Many kids wanted to talk and practice English, and would often ask for my address. Women seemed very friendly and willing to talk, which was most strange after coming from India. I found out that the local traditional culture - the Minangkabau, are matrilineal, so the eldest female is head of the family and property is inherited through the female line. The homes of the Minangkabau are elevated at each end to simulate the horns of a buffalo - an animal that figures prominently in Minangkabau culture.

Lake Toba

The next stop on the island of Sumatra was Lake Toba. It sports an island in the volcanic caldera that’s the size of Singapore. There are many guesthouses in the main village of Tuk Tuk, with most showing traditional architecture. They were also the best value that I’ve found in Indonesia - $1.74 got me a gigantic room with a double bed, a western-style toilet (read no squatting), hot and cold running water (only place I’ve stayed in Indonesia with hot water), and a balcony overlooking the tranquil lake. Is it any wonder that it’s a great place to relax for a few days?!? I also rented a mountain bike one day to explore a few other villages and to see traditional houses and life of the Batak people.

Orangutans of Bukit Lawang

Leaving the lake and heading north we passed through several plantations - mostly rubber and palm, before arriving in Bukit Lawang - the site of an orangutan rehabilitation center. The next morning and afternoon we walked up through the jungle to a feeding platform, where employees would feed any orangutans that ’swung’ in. We saw a mother with her small baby, as well as one other playful youth. It was fun to watch them swing effortlessly through the jungle canopy. I took a short day hike through the surrounding jungle to see other orangutans, but I wasn’t overly impressed with that trip - seems everybody takes the same routes, so it wasn’t exactly designed to make you feel at one with nature.

Money…Gone!

I had to make my way to the main town in northern Sumatra - Medan, and from there take a public mini-van for the short trip to the ferry terminal of Belawan. It was on this trip that my string of 10 years of international travel without incidence was broken - I had my pocket picked. Worst part was that I’d just stocked up in Singapore, as I knew there would be places in SE Asia where I couldn’t count on using an ATM. Half of what they took was in travelers checks, so I had those replaced in Jakarta - the rest is gone. As a true traveler, I look at it in terms of days lost - the money would probably only fund a few nights on the town back in the States, but here it equated to 2-3 weeks of travel. Oh well…

Ferry to Jakarta

The ferry trip was interesting. It was 48 hours on an extremely overcrowded ferry - people on decks, under stairwells, in the halls, etc., and there was nothing to do but read or listen to cd’s. There were no smoking signs everywhere, but that means nothing to your typical chain-smoking Indonesian. I’m not sure I’ve met a group of people that smoke more than they do here. The food was basically cold rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner - usually with a fish head as well. Thankfully there were locals on board selling fruit, chicken, etc., who were doing a great business.

Jakarta

The ferry docked in Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia. Over 60% of the population lives on the island of Java, and a large portion of those live in Jakarta. Having said that, I didn’t find it such a bad city - unless of course you happen to get caught in a riot such as they had a few years ago. That would probably taint one’s idea of the city. I simply wandered around a bit to get new travelers checks, and went to the docks to see the old wooden sailing ships which ply between Jakarta and Kalimantan or Sulawesi, bringing wood from those islands and returning with cement, food, etc.

Yogyakarta, Prambanan, & Borobudur

From Jakarta I took a train to Yogyakarta. The first thing I noticed was that - at 5 AM, there was nobody sleeping at the train station. On the train it was much less chaotic than an Indian train, though there were still people passing by every couple of minutes trying to sell something.

I went to the sultan’s palace in Yogyakarta, where I heard the traditional gamelan performance - basically large xylophones and gongs. Soothing. Wandering the main streets one is constantly hassled to go into the shops, which mostly deal in batik.

A short trip outside of Yogyakarta is the Hindu temples of Prambanan. They were impressive, but having just come from India, it was hard to get too excited.

The main thing I’d come to see in the area - and something I’d been looking forward to for several years since I was unable to enter Indonesia in ‘99, was the Buddhist monument of Borobudur. However, I must say that I was disappointed. As one of the other travelers said while we were walking around, it’s impressive, but not awe-inspiring. It was constructed in the 9th century, and consists of six tiered square bases, topped by 3 circular ones. There are reliefs on the lower levels, which depict the teachings of Buddha, and there are 432 Buddha images sitting in chambers on the terraces. On the upper circular terraces, there are latticed stupas, which contain 72 more Buddha images. The top center contains a large stupa. It’s pretty impressive, very large, and the relief carvings were good - though weathered. I don’t know why, but I was expecting so much more - maybe because people often compare it to Angkor in Cambodia, which probably ranks as the most impressive sight I’ve seen anywhere.

Mt. Bromo

I liked Yogya (as it’s affectionately called), as it has all the travel necessities, but it was time to move along - a 12-hour journey to Cemoro Lewang to see some volcanoes. I awoke at 3 AM and piled into a jeep to cross a lava/ash plain of the Tengger crater and climb up to the top of Mt. Penanjakan for sunrise. We had spectacular views to the crater floor, as well as other volcanoes inside Tengger crater. We also looked across to the active Mt. Semeru, which would periodically belch up a puff of ash. Mt. Bromo, an active volcano inside the main crater, could also be seen quite well. It was a beautiful clear morning, and sunrise over that volcanic landscape was quite spectacular, though we had to share the experience with hundreds of others who also had arrived in other jeeps. Next, we were driven to the base of Mt. Bromo, where we proceeded up the steps to the crater rim, allowing us to peer down to the sulphorous cloud emanating from the crater.

Kuta on the island of Bali

Later that day we took the journey to the beach at Bali - basically a mini-van, bus, ferry, bus, mini-van extravaganza that took 12 hours, depositing us at Kuta beach. Kuta is a scene, with many travelers, as well as tourists - mostly up from Australia as it’s so close…Bali is basically the north island of Australia. It could be a beach town anywhere in the world - beach, boogie/surf boards, outdoor cafes with western food, souvenirs, nightclubs, motorcycles/scooters, etc. It’s only the cock-fighting that says, “Indonesia”. I did enjoy relaxing for a few days, and I found a Mexican restaurant that was good, so I was able to get my fix.

Ubud

Ubud was next - the cultural capital of the island of Bali. Again, it’s pretty touristy, but I enjoyed my time there, as there was much to do. There were many puras, or temple complexes, with ornate doorways, intricate carvings, many statues, and gold leaf. One day I went to a surrounding village to observe a cremation ceremony. Initially there was simply a lot of standing around, as family and villagers prepared everything. As the family provided the men of the village with some arak - the local spirit, they were in a pretty good mood. They offered drinks to some of us - basically as I’d had before in Nepal/Bhutan/Sri Lanka/India, etc…not what you’d drink at home, unless you enjoy downing paint thinner, but for some reason I do! They also gave some of the younger kids a drink. One poor guy - probably around 8 or 10, immediately looked sick, couldn’t stand, and had tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what hit him. A few biscuits from the Westerners neutralized the trauma.

When the ceremony got going, the body was carried to the ‘throne’ on top of a tiered construction of bamboo and paper. There was another large bull construction - also made of bamboo and paper. Both were on bamboo frames so they could be carried through the streets. A small marching ‘band’ lead the procession as they marched through the streets, with all of us trailing. At the cremation sight there were some prayers and arrangements, a fuel can was hung in a tree and the hose led to a powerful torch aimed directly at the body. The torch was lit, and in no time at all the bull, wreaths, and other offerings were going up in flames, with the body at the base of the flames and getting the direct heat from the torch. I must say that it was probably the most voyeuristic I’ve ever felt. However, since the villages/family notify the tourist information in Ubud of the event, they obviously don’t have a problem with people being there.

Back in Ubud I wanted to see a traditional dance performance, and there were several to choose from. I’d previously seen some young girls - obviously students, performing for free during an afternoon in Ubud. The hand gestures were complicated and delicate, and the facial expressions and eye movements added another dimension. It was interesting to watch these young girls try to piece both together - when they concentrated on their hands, they didn’t get the expressions, and vice versa. There was one older student that seemed to have it all down pretty well, and she still had the ability to smile demurely at the crowd. Very elegant. Anyway, having seen that I opted for a different type of ‘dance’ so went to a Kecak performance. It consists of about 100 men in sarongs and bare chests, sitting in 4 circles around what would be best described as a large candelabra. As the men chanted and made other rhythmic utterances, a few actors were at the center of the circle performing a play. All this took place at night in front of a flood-lit temple, so it was quite spectacular…really enjoyed it.

From Ubud I also took a day trip to visit many of the surrounding villages and temples. It happened to be on Indonesian Independence Day, so there were many celebrations and preparations at the temples, and more ceremony than one might normally expect to see.

Komodo Dragons

Next, it was 36 hours by bus, ferry, mini-van, bus, mini-van, ferry to another island - Flores, and the town of Labuan Bajo. From Labuan Bajo I hooked up with 4 Dutch travelers and we backtracked to an island near Komodo called Rinca. We were there to see the unique komodo dragons. Evidently it was the mating season so we didn’t see too many, but still spotted 8-10 of the large lizards on the island. They can grow to 3-4 meters in length, but those we saw were probably only a bit over 2. We saw some large ones, some small, some walking around, and some lazing in the shade escaping the heat. It was a good day - on the calm water at sunrise, about 5 hours in a boat, dolphins, flying fish, komodo dragons, and a bit of snorkeling.

Bajawa on the island of Flores

We took what was termed a ‘local’ bus from Labuan Bajo to Bajawa the following day, though in reality it was packed with mostly Westerners (the following day there was only 1 Westerner - go figure). However, that’s not to say we were lacking the local flavor - there were dried fish in boxes in the bus stinking the place up, a live chicken inside, and a live dog in the back compartment. We simply spent a day around Bajawa taking in the local traditional villages.

Moni & Kelimutu Crater Lakes

Next was Moni. We relaxed the afternoon we arrived (and placed our dinner order for the next night - more on that later), and then caught a 4 AM truck the next morning to Kelimutu volcano. After a short walk in the full-moon light, we sat at the lookout waiting for the sunrise. It was disappointing, but the claim-to-fame of the area are actually the three crater lakes at the summit - each a different color. Or at least they are at some times. Right now, one is a beautiful turquoise, one is black, and the other is a dark brown/black. Still, it was pretty picturesque, and a nice walk around the crater holding two lakes before walking back to Moni. That night was the big event…dinner.

Dinner is Served

Now I’ll preface this by saying that you animal lovers may want to skip this section - and possibly one later on…you will not be amused! You know how many travelers will tell you that they think they ate dog in such-and-such a country - normally China? Well, I know I ate dog in Moni. How? Because we ordered it! Call it the group mentality, but 5 of us wanted to try the local dish, so placed our order the night before. They were going to show us the beast before it was killed - guess it would have been like picking out your lobster before it’s dunked in the pot. Thankfully, we couldn’t be found, as that may have been tough - playing fetch with Fido and then picking him out from between your teeth that night. We did see him after they’d killed him and burned the hair off, and were in the process of butchering him - head and paws severed from the body and staring up at us. I must say that it was prepared nicely - quite tasty, and a texture similar to beef. In case you’re wondering for your own future meals, we had it with rice, potatoes, vegetables, and a blood and liver sambol (a tip - cut the liver up into small pieces). Worst part of the dinner was seeing the skin staring back at you from your plate - it was a black on white spotted dog, and we also encountered the occasional short white hair. As you can imagine, it was a pretty lively dinner, with numerous jokes bandied about - dog-eat-dog world, dog-tired, doggie bags, etc.

I must say that I’m intrigued by what type of response/hate mail that last paragraph will generate. Think I can count on at least 2 that won’t be happy, and only 2 that will think it’s perfectly normal - they were at the table with me. If nothing else, I’ll know who has actually read to this point in the update! And on the isn’t-that-an-amazing-coincidence front, what song is now playing on the stereo here in the Internet cafe? Who Let the Dogs Out. Too funny…you can’t make things like this up.

Maumere

Ok, back to travels. We caught a mini-bus to Maumere (there was a live pig strapped to the top, and we passed a people-transport truck that had a small pony in it), where we simply wandered around and tried to organize plane and ferry tickets. Some of those I’d been traveling with for a few days were catching a flight back to Bali, and I was catching the 24-hour ferry to the island of Sulawesi.

Funeral Ceremony on the Island of Sulawesi

After the ferry trip to the island of Sulawesi I was in the town of Makassar. I simply took care of some things before catching an overnight bus to Rantepao in the Tana Toraja region. I hooked up with 8 others and a guide and went to a small village near Rantepao for a funeral ceremony. We walked into the main ceremonial area - an earthen courtyard surrounded by the home of the deceased, as well as 30+ buildings built for the funeral. These buildings housed many of the attendees, and were where we were invited by the family to sit and watch. The funeral was for a husband and wife that were in their 80’s or 90’s. He died 2 years ago, and she 1. Since their deaths, the bodies were treated to halt/slow decomposition, and the bodies have stayed in the house with the rest of the family. These two were fairly wealthy - as would become apparent later in the ceremony. They had been the parents of 11, the grandparents of 50+, and the great-grandparents of many more…all in attendance. The main ceremony is performed several years after the actual death, as all the family must be gathered from various places, the buildings must be constructed, and sacrificial animals must be bought. The people of the Toraja region are Catholic, but still practice some rituals from their original animist religion. The entire ceremony takes several days. We’d missed the day of buffalo vs. buffalo fights. The first day we attended was the receiving of the guests, so we saw processions of the family members, important people of the region, as well as the head of the Toraja region. There were also many pig sacrifices that day, so we wandered from area to area to view the various stages in the process. We’d follow a tightly-bound-in-bamboo and squealing pig as it was carried to a secluded area. Somebody would thrust a knife into its heart, and the pig would squeal, thrash about, and shudder, before falling still and silent. The next step was to remove the innards, and to save the blood into bamboo tubes. Follow your nose and you’d arrive at the next step - the pig was thrown onto a small fire to burn the hair off the body. Finally, the pig was butchered and distributed to various villages. For the entire ceremony we were told that 220+ pigs were sacrificed. At about 1 million rupiah each (about US$116) that gets pretty expensive. Many/most of the pigs were gifts from various people in attendance (which puts our gift of sugar and cigarettes to shame!). After several hours of wandering about and picture taking, we walked back towards town through rice fields and traditional villages.

As the program at the burial ceremony was going to be the same the next day, we opted to check out some of the traditional villages and graves. The first stop was Lemo, a village 11 km from Rantepao. There were four traditional-style homes, with accompanying rice barns opposite. The homes are built on stilts, but the most striking feature is the roof, which rises sharply at each end. Some say it is to emulate buffalo horns - animals held in great esteem, but most say it resembles an overturned boat. The houses - most notably the front, have carvings - generally of buffalo and chicken motifs, as well as simply repetitive patterns. A carved buffalo head - with a chicken neck and head above it, often adorns the front of a home. Buffalo horns may be attached to the central post at the front of the house, and the jaws can often also be seen somewhere on the house. Across the road and rice fields were some graves hollowed into a rocky cliff. Perched in balconies were the tau-tau, or wooden effigies of the deceased.

Our next stop was the village of Londa, where we went into caves to see many coffins and bones simply lying about. Outside were some hanging graves - coffins suspended from an overhanging rock, as well as tau-tau. Must admit that wandering in a dark cave, and having your flashlight beam illuminate a human skull ‘looking’ back at you, can be a bit eerie.

Last, we made our way to Kete Kesu, which had some nice traditional homes and accompanying rice barns. Also saw several cave graves and ancient hanging graves, though the bones were spilling out of many.

The next day just outside of Rantepao was the once-a-week market that we wanted to attend. There’s a daily market in Rantepao selling fruits, vegi’s, chili’s, fish, eels, etc. This weekly market sells the same, plus buckets, tools, shoes, clothes, etc. Basically anything you need. However, the highlight was the area selling live buffalo and pigs. The buffalo go for about 5-10 million rupiah (US$580-1160), though a large fit albino one we saw was asking 55 million ($6380). Past the field selling buffalo was where the pigs were being sold, and there were literally hundreds of them. They were tied tightly to a bamboo mat, and laid out side-by-side, row after row, for the buyers. There was a lot of squealing, and a look of fear in the eyes of many. The cost of a pig was about 1 million rupiah (US$116). Bought pigs were either transported via a bamboo pole, wheelbarrow, or the smaller ones were simply stuffed in a burlap bag. I couldn’t believe how many buffalo and pigs were there to be sold. A good and entertaining market.

We spent longer at the market than we’d intended, but still wanted to go to the funeral ceremony, as it was the first day of the buffalo sacrifices. Unfortunately, by the time we got public transportation to the village it was 2:30 and the actual sacrifices were over. We walked into a central courtyard, which contained what can only be described as a slaughter. There was blood everywhere, and the cut-up remains of the 40-50 buffalo that had been sacrificed. The scale was mind-boggling. Several guys were still wading through the blood, excrement, and entrails to butcher the meat, cut the horns from the skulls, etc. We spent some time taking pictures of the carnage, and vowed to change our plans for the following day. Three of us had planned on catching a morning bus back to Makassar, but decided that we couldn’t go all that way and see the results of the sacrifices without actually seeing them performed - call us morbid.

So, the next morning we were back at the village at 7 AM, where there were still some cleanup procedures taking place from the previous days blood-letting. At 8 AM 20 buffalo were led into the courtyard, including the star of the show - the albino, which was actually purchased by the son we were sitting with. The cost of that buffalo was over 40 million rupiah ($4600). There were some initial announcements, and then the leg of the white buffalo was tied to one of the two trees in the courtyard. The handler lifted the head by raising the rope attached to a ring through the nose. Before I knew what happened he’d slashed the throat of the buffalo. It looked stunned, and stood there a few seconds spurting blood before collapsing to the ground. It was still going through its death throes when the next one was sacrificed. This went on in quick succession until all 20 had been killed - probably in the span of 30 minutes. Some collapsed immediately, others walked/ran a bit before stumbling over a dead buffalo on the ground. Some made gurgling noises, while others were completely silent. You’d think that one on the ground was dead, only to see it raise it’s head and thrash it about a bit. A few that weren’t tied to the tree escaped their handlers after being cut and ran around the courtyard, spraying blood and causing mayhem for those of us standing around close to the action. It was a bloody, gruesome sight, but mesmerizing as well. I took many pictures, as this is probably something I’ll never see again on this scale. When all had been sacrificed, guys started wading through the blood to start skinning, gutting, and butchering the animals, and distributing the meat to the local villagers. We were told that over the entire ceremony 80 buffalo were to be sacrificed. We were ‘fortunate’ to have seen such a grand ceremony. I know that statement sounds cruel and heartless, but the ceremony illustrates why one travels - to experience other cultures and traditions. From that standpoint, this has to rank as one of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed. Really hard to imagine the scale of the scene without having been there.

We opted to take a night bus back to Makassar, thereby missing the last day of the ceremony, which was actually the entombing of the two bodies into a cave carved into a rock face.

Change of Plans

I had wanted to visit the Togean islands, which are supposed to be beautiful. However, there are problems in the area where one would catch the ferry - an Italian traveler was killed a few weeks ago…right bus, wrong time. I’d also been looking forward to getting to the island of Papua (formerly Irian Jaya). I’d wanted to see it for years, as there is a native tribe in one of the valleys that maintains their traditional culture - right up to the women wearing grass skirts and the men only wearing penis gourds. In my 7 weeks in the country I hadn’t heard of anyone else that had ventured there, which made me more excited. Unfortunately, events have transpired against me and I’ll have to save it for another trip. The ferry would take 8 days round-trip, and one would kill several days/weeks waiting for the ferry; flights were extremely expensive, and the internal flights only fly 3 days a week; my visa would be running out, and I’d still have to get to Malaysia somehow; and a week ago 2 busloads of mostly Americans were ambushed with guys wielding M-16’s, killing 2 yanks, 1 Indonesian, and injuring 12 others. It was more about their relationship with the large American-owned mine in the region than targeting Americans in general, but all things considered, I decided to grudgingly change my plans.

Ferry to Borneo

I hopped a bus to Pare-Pare to catch a ferry to the Indonesian part of the island of Borneo. The trip started badly - the ferry was 5 1/2hours late arriving in Pare-Pare; boarding the over-booked ferry was a free-for-all of shouts, shoves, and elbows; somebody was in my berth so I had to argue to get them out; there was no thin mattress for the wooden bunk (and after losing so much weight trust me - that made it uncomfortable); there were cockroaches everywhere; and there was a live chicken making noise in the area. And then things got worse.

I was staying in the cheap, communal sleeping area on the bottom deck of the ship. The first night went well, but the following day there were a string of strange occurrences that made me pretty uncomfortable - probably the most uncomfortable I’ve ever felt traveling. I’d befriended a young guy while waiting for the ferry to arrive in Pare-Pare. On the second night while I was lying on my bunk listening to CD’s he came down to the bunk adjacent to mine. Right at that moment, the guy who had been sleeping there the previous night arrived from elsewhere in the ship, said it was too noisy to sleep there another night, and moved all his stuff. My ‘friend’ then donned his cap and proceeded to perform his prayers - while standing over me on the adjacent bunk. Now this was Indonesia, as I’d noted before the most populous Islamic country in the world, so I’d seen Muslims performing their prayers often, but normally onboard they went to the mosque, or prayed discreetly along the edge of a room. Not this guy - he’s towering over me, and it wasn’t actually one of the times for prayer. Glancing around at the other passengers (I was the only Westerner on the boat of 2000+) I noticed that they also found it to be out of place. Anyway, as the night progressed I noticed the same groups of people - including my ‘friend’, making the rounds through my sleeping area and staring in my direction. Others would descend the stairs and stick their head into our area. They never looked around the entire room, but always looked immediately towards me. When they caught me looking back, they’d pop their head back out the door and out of sight. What made all this worse was the date - September 11th, one year later. I’d just spent a lot of time online in Makassar reading about the heightened security and possibility of something happening to mark the anniversary, so my mind was probably running a bit wild. Anyway, I opted to drink coffee and not sleep the entire night. As the night wore on, the occupants of the other 4 bunks in my little corner of the room opted to sleep elsewhere - all claiming it was too noisy to sleep. I moved to the bunk next to a wall so that others could only approach me from one side, and sure enough, around 3 AM a guy came and sat within a matter of inches from me. I forced him to move away a bit, and there were some tense moments while he sat sneering, and motioning to a group across the room, but he finally left. It got to the point where I actually talked to security, but he wasn’t exactly helpful. His comment was that, as I was the only Westerner onboard, people were simply staring at me. I told him I’d been the only Westerner in countless situations, I knew that stare, I’ve become comfortable with that stare, and that this was different, but he wasn’t listening. Anyway, I’ll admit to sitting there awake all night, my open Swiss army knife by my side, awaiting the dawn. An uncomfortable night.

Indonesia Is…

Indonesia was a great country to visit, as there is such a variety. Each island offers something a bit different - from sites, to religions, to traditions, to nature. There are many interesting and varied cultures that can be observed, with some intense ceremonies. It’s a large country, where transportation can be time-consuming - long bus/ferry journeys, and waiting for the right day to catch a ferry are the norm. There are now believed to be over 17,000 islands in Indonesia, and I didn’t even make it to all the main ones, so if one wants to see as much as possible they’ll have to pop out of the country several times in order to receive a new 2 month visa each time.

Other notes on Indonesia: It seems extremely easy to hook up with other travelers. After spending almost my entire 6 months in India on my own - except for Ladakh, I’ve traveled with others for almost my entire 7 weeks here. You travel with people, go separate ways, and then meet new people to hang out with for a few days. Basically most are doing the same things, and are more receptive, whereas in India people put up walls to block out the hassles from the locals, and subsequently block out some of the other travelers as well. One is greeted continuously with, “Hello Mr.” Doesn’t matter if you’re male or female. The Indonesian word for ‘bald’ is something like ‘botok’, so that may be substituted for the “Mr.” in the above greeting.

Indonesia Photos

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