Farther Adventures in Bira

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Now that it has been two weeks since we left South Sulawesi, I can see that I am already missing much of the natural scenery in and around the Bira area. This place is still wild, with lots to explore and discover. Perhaps over the coming years, I can get some more opportunities to explore further.

Highlights of our stay down there was exploring the south end of Mandala Ria beach, Lemo Lemo, and meeting the people who make it to this secluded spot. At Mandala Beach  we found secluded pools surrounded by cliffs dripping with plant life, interesting rock formations that made for great swimming obstacles at high tide, and more of the rock faces filled with crabs. Lemo Lemo turned out to be less of an ideal swimming beach, but did have nice vegetation right up to the beach and quite an expanse of beach to walk.

One aspect that made our trip down to Bira interesting were the evening conversations with travellers and locals. Since there are few people who pass through, those who are there and speak English often share stories and discuss whatever has been on their mind. Many of the people had spent a good deal of time exploring the area, and were still on their way farther out to see what there was to see.

the photos below show scenes from Cape Bira, Lemo Lemo, and the boat launch party we attended.

Fireplay to Bring on the New Year

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The new year was brought in with small concerns for my safety, general excitement of times to come, and a whole lot of noise. Despite living in Makassar for a couple years, I had never actually had a New Year’s eve in this city, and so I was not really prepared for what ensued.

It was apparent in the hours leading up to the 1st of January that people had spent a good deal of money stockpiling fireworks for the eve. Every couple seconds a firework would go up nearby, make a big bang, and light up the sky for a second. They were the generic consumer based varieties, foot long sticks that launched a starburst in any variety of colors or configurations. Unlike in Canada though, many were launched from the hands of children, who opted out of a safety zone or even regards for if it may hit the wires running the narrow streets above. Walking around the neighbourhood was certainly a lively affair. One had to be keenly aware of any sparks and the directions the projectiles would go.

As time zero approached, the number of fireworks shooting up intensified into a pretty much continuous crescendo. Our party followed the masses to the main street right by the house, where fireworks were thrown at oncoming vehicles. New Years for some passersby obviously was heralded by an explosion of color by their car’s door, and perhaps a char mark left as a souvenir. Being of a western mindset, I saw these actions as ones leading certainly to somebody getting injured. Surprisingly despite the embers flying meters in front of me (I was at the back of the crowd) nobody was hit.

New Year’s passed and we headed back for a round of photos. One of the neighbours promptly emerged with what looked like a bazooka in his hand. His sumo-style shirtless belly made the event all the more impressive, and he brought everybody parading again to the main street. He put down the firework in the middle of a crowd or people, who quickly cleared the area. Then, opting for additional flair, he took it in his hand and lit it. A concussive shock rippled past the crowd, and a somersaulting fireball was launched into the air. The explosion marked the end of a new year’s more adrenaline filled than most.

Troubles in Paradise

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Hearing the story Pak Gappar, the fellow who helped us buy land down in Ara, explains a lot. When we arrived we noticed that the fence had been torn down, and all the fruit trees we planted had disappeared. Why had this happened?

Pak Gappar said that soon after we left, somebody else had laid claim to the land. They started by pulling up the fence and putting in their own barbed wire fence to state that is was in fact theirs. Next they proceeded to tear up the fruit trees that we had planted their after we had left. What ensued likely is a good experience in village politics across Indonesia.

Pak Wahab, the person who sold us the land, heard about this vandalism, and went down to the beach, waving a machete and threatening any who insult his right to sell this land. The plaintiff soon was found, and explained that this piece of land was in fact his inheritance. However, he did not have any documentation to back this up. What seems to have passed is a conflict common between the local traditions and Indonesian law. According to local tradition, women can not possess land. That being said, for a few generations now land has been officially passed down to daughters, with the parent’s knowledge that their male heirs can earn money and get land from marriage. Pak Wahab’s grandmother had inherited this land and passed it to all her kids through the legal channels, while the plaintiff’s grandfather had claimed it as his own (being a sibling to Pak Wahab’s grandmother) due to the ancient traditions barring women of owning land.

The argument was settled through the village government official, who in turn also granted Wahab and his family the remaining land which the plaintiff had also claimed. Due process and the holding of titles indeed held fast over the ancient traditions, and providing an interesting look into some of the local politicking that goes on at the village level. While I am sure that some left the dispute sour, the backwardness of our land procurement seems just a little less backward after hearing this story.

Change is in the Wind…..

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The last week or so has been a whirlwind of activity, ultimately determining what we are going to be doing for the next year. The results certainly came out of left field, and are no less exciting than what we had anticipated.

a new hotel has popped up, and we decided to check it out.

My first few days over in Bali were spent in interviews instead of starting a long break. Tim, a friend and former boss, had worked some magic and got me in touch with the director of Green School. The school was thinking of adding another Green Studies teacher to their ranks, and Tim had worked hard to petition them in giving me a chance. The interview left both myself and the interviewees with good feelings, and a few days later I had received an offer for a job. If there has ever been a job that describes what I want to do, it is this one, so naturally Kiky and I decided to forego our 6 months in Sulawesi and take up residence in Bali.

A day later we were flying to Sulawesi, ready to explore and see If we could still pull of building our home on the beach. For the past couple years we had been planning on doing this, and so the desire and taste to do so was still strong within our mouths. After a few days with family in Makassar, we made our way down to Bira to see what was happening.

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Initially things looked quite positive for our house project. We had budgeted enough from the likes of initial estimates carpenters had given us, and we were starting to devise a plan for Kiky to come here on a monthly basis to oversee construction. But upon going down to our beach, we realized the scope of our project was well beyond what we were capable of doing in the immediate future. Our site had reverted to the original wilderness we had bought, with no sight of the dozen trees we had planted a couple years before. What more, agroindustry in the area had increased a lot. The sea along the beach was full of plastic bottles holding up nets for seaweed farms. To say we were disappointed would be an understatement.

Visualizing the challenges that we faced, along with the costs of Kiky’s back and forth lifestyle, we had to put our plans on hold. Alas, new plans were forming that were equally exciting. In the end of the day, we learned that while having dreams and ambitions is indeed important, life is impossible to direct. Maybe more critical than concrete plans is a certain frame of mind. Our plans for Pajoka helped me get a job in Green School, as it displayed my passion for environmentalism and a strong will to live with the adversities presented in Indonesia.

The Road to Bira

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I have always been amazed at the productivity of humans. Cities particularly change quickly, but the lightning fast pace of change in places like Makassar is beyond comprehension. In the past 4 years the city has gone from a few tall buildings to several dozen in a short time frame. The cities roads have also become more choked with traffic, a problem common throughout Indonesia.

Roads particularly are of interest to me, because they seem to fall apart nearly as fast as they are built, at least here in South Sulawesi. You can never tell exactly what the route will be like if you have not taken it for a while. Case in point is the road to Bira from Makassar, a road I have traveled many times. The first couple hours was surprisingly nice. When I first traveled this route, I recall distinctly parts where the cars right tires were nearly a foot below the left ones.

The following section was completely different from the last time I saw it. Where there once was a road, now stood a dirt and mud track, with piles of rubble strewn across in seemingly random fashion. No doubt this part will be nice and paved in a couple years, but for now it was the nastiest stretch of road I have been on in a long time. At one point, the truck passing near inches from our car slipped into the soft shoulder with the appearance that it would not move for a long time. The motorcycles quickly filled all the cracks in the car sandwich on this stretch, and I was sure we would not be moving for some time to come. Amazingly, things started to inch along, and we escaped.

The third stretch had changed noticeably as well. Where once was a pothole ridden way lay a brand new paved path. The work had been recently done, proof of which was found each time we crossed the small bridges along the way (the main ones were still under construction). This area has recently seen a huge boom in business in seaweed, and so I wonder if this had anything to do with the quality of their roads.

After 6 hours of bouncing around, I began to question our sanity for coming out to Bira. Upon our arrival though, the sunset and peacefulness of Bira quickly assured me why that journey of mayhem was worthwhile.

This Bathroom is NOT My Friend

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the toilet may be super cool, but I have reservations about the sink

I have always wondered who would use the service button in the airplane’s bathroom. What exactly, would require service in there? Well, I was able to answer my own question in a fairly embarrassing episode on my flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong.

After a reasonable sleep, I awoke and scooted by the two people in the other seats and headed to the washroom. While waiting, I stuck up a conversation with one of the flight attendants, and then went into that small cubicle. Getting the unpleasant super vacuum flush over with, I proceeded to wash my hands. But alas, when pressed water did not come out. Perhaps this faucet needs lifting or turning? Whoops. That was a bad move. The faucet came off in my hand and a geyser of water started to shoot out from beneath.

After an initial period of being shocked by the gush of water in my face, I clamped down with all might. In my head, I thought of the recent news my father told me of two drunken executives who forced the plane to land and had to foot the bill for all the missed connections and hotels. Would that be my fate? I kicked open the door, and the old lady behind could not make heads or tails of the situation. She thought I was having problems with the door. Oh, I wish it was the simple. Promptly a stewardess came and asked me to scoot out. I explained that while I would love to, if I let go the geyser would once again erupt. Undeterred, she asked me to return to my seat. I did not hesitate, feeling that distancing myself from this would be a very good idea at this point.

In my seat, I watched as more and more of the stewards came to the bathroom. Soon, stacks of newspapers were hastily being brought to sop up the growing puddle. I disappeared as much as I could in my seat, wet but happy that I was not in the fray. After perhaps ½ an hour things seemed to be conquered. I was impressed that through this all the staff remained calm and composed, and even were able to apologize to me for the defunct bathroom. In any rate, I hope that is the most exciting thing that ever happens to me on a plane, because much more would no doubt lead to trouble.

Camping in the Kettle River Valley

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Taurus Lake Panorama

Ever since hearing of the Kettle River valley from a neighbor of mine a couple years ago, this place has interested me. Renowned as a great bike route, the natural beauty can also attract campers and outdoor recreationists from all over. With only 3.5 days to go camping, this area turned out to be a good place to explore and experience more of BC.

This is not the way to drive down the highwayGetting off to a late start is par for the course for any of our family holidays. It is not so much that we aren’t organized, rather that we enjoy taking our time getting out the door. After all was said and done, we had packed our camping gear, 6 people, and all the food we would need for the next few days into my boss’ minivan. It was time to hit the road.

Click to continue reading “Camping in the Kettle River Valley”

Where have all the Epicureans gone?

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Depressing news regarding the lack of global will to avert dire environmental consequences was a serious downer this week. Not only is nothing being done to slow the emissions of carbon dioxide, but we have managed to do worse that the worst case scenarios estimated by scientists just a decade ago.

So why is humanity unable to collaborate on what obviously is the most pressing issue facing us? Perhaps we have proceeded far enough down the wrong path that returning to a pre-industrial society no longer even enters the realm of most people’s understanding. Perhaps happiness has been high-jacked and has been definitively equated with consumption of material goods. I did find some solace, however, in the fact that over 2000 years ago there was already an understanding of what constituted happiness. Epicurus clearly articulated that which would make anybody happy:

1. peace and freedom from fear
2. the absence of pain
3. being surrounded by friends

Despite a couple dozen centuries of progress, we have come no closer to attaining these. In fact, our current system promotes fear and robs us of time for friends. While suffering from disease and injury has been mitigated by modern medicine, our industrial system has thrown many new ways of inflicting pain into the mix as well (weapons, increased environmental toxicity, unhealthy diets).

Fear without a doubt is the biggest factor in making happiness more elusive. Our society is controlled by fear: the fear of not having employment, the fear not being able to support yourself in retirement, the fear of not getting a desirable enough education, and of course the fear encouraged by the media that the most depraved members of our society will  violate us. It is little wonder that humans are not able to see past their own web of fear, and address the far more real concern of our environmental degradation.

Back in 280 BCE, Epicurus eschewed the societal norms of that time and accepted both women and slaves into his school. Here, they developed a philosophy that inspired thinkers famous in our own time. John Locke, Thomas Jefferson, and Karl Marx all used epicurean principles in their writings. It came as little surprise to me that the school was known as ‘The Garden’.

Part of what Epicureans saw as a marker of happiness is self-sufficiency and simplicity. In today’s world, interdependence is probably higher than it has ever been before. The vast majority of the food which I eat comes from who knows where and is grown by who knows who. As for simplicity… this word is so filled with nostalgia that it is now used as a marketing device for everything from dish soap to computers. Real simplicity only exists as an ideal completely independent from the society we have created.

While our world seemingly gets ever more complex and convoluted, I get a nagging feeling that future societies will be forced into living out the Epicurean ideals… leading simple lives, minimizing our desires, and surrounding ourselves with friends.