Sunday, March 13, 2016

11:00 a.m. Room 7, Tamariah Hostel

Siantar, Sumatra

Well, my life continues to be dominated by illness. I really wish I knew what made me sick. It’s the ultimate mystery. Was it the fish and rice and soup that Al’s wife served me? Was it the bubur ayam that I had for lunch in Kisaran one day? Was it the big expensive meal I had with Al and his wife at the Bambu restaurant? Was it (most likely) the fried snacks that were given to me by the government workers in Lima Puluh? Was it the water used in the mango smoothie I had on the road? Was it something else? Is it some sort of pathogen that has lived in my gut ever since India or Ethiopia? Does this pathogen go dormant and then spring to life whenever my system is weakened by stress?

At one point yesterday, I thought I was on the road to recovery. I wasn’t experiencing immediate stomach cramps, so I put my camera in my bag and went out for a walk. I thought I’d meander through the big market in downtown Siantar or go to see the somewhat famous giant Buddhist statue. Along the way, I stopped at a big pharmacy to buy some medicine, but I don’t really know what medicine to try. Should I try another course of antibiotics? It’s unclear whether they worked in the past. The pharmacist was a young kid who spoke on English, and we had trouble communicating so I just left without getting anything. The wise thing to do, of course, would be to go to a hospital or a doctor and get tested. But I hate the thought of doing that. If I thought there was a good chance of success, I’d do it. But I have ZERO faith in doctors and hospitals. Zero. Seeing them seems like a big waste of time.

My walk was relatively successful. I had the wide angle lens on the camera, and 95% of my pictures ended up really boring, but that’s okay. It’s been a while since I had the camera out, and I just wanted to break the ice. At least I documented some of what the city looks like. There’s nothing particularly interesting or nice about it that I can see. I ended up walking toward the Buddhist statue—which I could see off in the distance. I came at it from a weird angle, and had to walk a long distance around to get to the entrance to the temple. But once inside the complex, I was glad that I had come. Buddhist temples are very familiar from my time in Taiwan, and I feel right at home inside them. They’re vibrant and full of life. You can feel a strong sense of community. They are places that are part of the lives of the local people. You don’t get that feeling from churches or mosques. When there are no services, those places are just closed, empty buildings. But Buddhist temples are full of life all day and all night long. This one felt particularly lively for the odd fact that a Harley Davidson motorcycle club was visiting that day. I didn’t talk to any of the members of the club, but I assume they had come just to see the big statue. They looked to be Indonesian, and they had done their level best to look like bad-ass bikers. They looked like clowns to me. And I’ve never been a fan of Harley Davidson motorcycles. They’re too big and kind of ugly. I also despise that part of their appeal is their ability to make as much noise as possible. They think that makes them powerful. In reality, that just makes them poorly designed and their owners rude. The last thing Indonesia needs is more loud engine noise.

Walking around Siantar felt much like walking around a city in the same way that walking around Tanjungbalai felt like being in a village. Tanjungbalai was much friendlier and more interesting. I miss the place. I suppose part of it is being sick again. It’s hard to like a place when you can’t really go out exploring as much as you’d like. I was lucky yesterday—probably because I hadn’t eaten a meal in a long time—and I got through the walk without an emergency. I even stopped for a meal on my way back to the losmen. Food has become a chore in Indonesia, and not just because I’ve been so sick. I just haven’t been able find a consistent and simple and filling meal that I can depend on. Every time I stop at a restaurant, I look at the meals on offer and I don’t want any of them. I just want one meal that is filling and simple, and there is no such meal. This time, I stopped at some kind of higher-end chain that sells pizza and chicken. I got a dish of rice and chicken, and it was expensive and disappointing and not filling. The chicken consisted of three tiny, tiny pieces.

 

Tags: Sumatra Part 01