I cannot claim the following story – it was related to me by my field team. However, I couldn’t resist telling it it, as it is both very Indonesian and very funny.
In Indonesia, a man is allowed to have up to four wives, as long as he can support all of them. I have a few friends who grew up in such families, though I’ve never knowingly met a husband or wife in this situation.
Now you’ve got the necessary background for my story.
Last trip to the field, Neli and Pita took pictures of our taxi driver in Ketapang and his beautiful young wife. We’ve known the driver Angga for years, and we often give printed photos to our friends in the field, as a “thank-you” for all their help. When Neli and Pita returned to Ketapang with the photos, Angga was out of town, so my field team took them to Angga’s house and gave them to his wife. But, ooops, this was not the same woman!! She took one look at the photos and realized what had happened: Angga was married to TWO women, but had not told the first wife (the one Neli and Pita gave the photos to) about the second wife (the one in the photos).
Angga, surprisingly, was simply amused by the whole situation. The first wife was not very amused. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Scuba!
Today I corrected a major gap in my Indonesian experience by scuba diving!
Some background: I'm in Sanur, Bali for the ATBC conference, a meeting of tropical biologists from around the world. I arrived a couple of days early, checked in my hotel, pondered working...and this morning scratched that idea. There is something that inspires an anti-work sentiment on this tropical island full of Hindu temples, gorgeous beaches, amazing food, fresh coconut juice, and kind people.
Instead of opening my computer, I rented a motorbike and did some quick research about the best snorkeling spot nearby. Three motorbike hours later, I arrived in Amed, a black sand beach on the eastern side of Bali under the looming Agung volcano (which according to Balinese Hindu tradition is a replica of the center of the universe, Mount Meru). The idea was to rent snorkel gear and tool around reefs just tens of meters from the shoreline. Somehow, the devious dive shop employees talked me into two dives at a submerged wreck.
Although I'm PADI certified, this worried me: I haven't dived since 2005, I didn't have my PADI card, the operation didn't have any other customers, and was a bit sketchy for even allowing me to dive without my card. Also, diving should never be this cheap...but the bargainer in me couldn't resist!
So we drove to the dive site, I donned my rather dilapidated wetsuit, and was gently reminded how to operate the equipment. Soon my guide and I were awkwardly toddling down the rocky shoreline toward the water. Finally submerged, we started the dive as I tried to gain my balance and slow my breath. Diving is funny - ideally a diver is as still and serene as possible, just floating and kicking a bit for navigation, conserving oxygen - the antithesis of most of my rather active activities that require lots of movement and breathing.
And as with all dives, I quickly forgot about the mechanics and logistics and was absolutely blown away by the LIFE. This area had soft corals galore, and the black ship provided a gloomy background to the bright sometimes fluorescent colors of fish and sea-life. As always, I momentarily wondered why I didn't go into marine TROPICAL biology. No leeches, rain, rubber boots...just saltwater and silence.
Some background: I'm in Sanur, Bali for the ATBC conference, a meeting of tropical biologists from around the world. I arrived a couple of days early, checked in my hotel, pondered working...and this morning scratched that idea. There is something that inspires an anti-work sentiment on this tropical island full of Hindu temples, gorgeous beaches, amazing food, fresh coconut juice, and kind people.
Instead of opening my computer, I rented a motorbike and did some quick research about the best snorkeling spot nearby. Three motorbike hours later, I arrived in Amed, a black sand beach on the eastern side of Bali under the looming Agung volcano (which according to Balinese Hindu tradition is a replica of the center of the universe, Mount Meru). The idea was to rent snorkel gear and tool around reefs just tens of meters from the shoreline. Somehow, the devious dive shop employees talked me into two dives at a submerged wreck.
Although I'm PADI certified, this worried me: I haven't dived since 2005, I didn't have my PADI card, the operation didn't have any other customers, and was a bit sketchy for even allowing me to dive without my card. Also, diving should never be this cheap...but the bargainer in me couldn't resist!
So we drove to the dive site, I donned my rather dilapidated wetsuit, and was gently reminded how to operate the equipment. Soon my guide and I were awkwardly toddling down the rocky shoreline toward the water. Finally submerged, we started the dive as I tried to gain my balance and slow my breath. Diving is funny - ideally a diver is as still and serene as possible, just floating and kicking a bit for navigation, conserving oxygen - the antithesis of most of my rather active activities that require lots of movement and breathing.
And as with all dives, I quickly forgot about the mechanics and logistics and was absolutely blown away by the LIFE. This area had soft corals galore, and the black ship provided a gloomy background to the bright sometimes fluorescent colors of fish and sea-life. As always, I momentarily wondered why I didn't go into marine TROPICAL biology. No leeches, rain, rubber boots...just saltwater and silence.
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