Family life

Silly monitor lizard

Religion and love

Another chapter on the difficulties of loving in this country. Waktre and his very nice girlfriend. He is hindu, she is muslim. To be married, one would have to renounce his religion, but both families are strongly against it. It is seen as a betrayal, and an interruption, of a familial tradition that was transmitted from their ancestors. They look very nice together, but now that he will have to go to work elsewhere, Waktre is not very hopeful about the future. It is very sad, I like them.

Of course, knowing how sensitive these religious matters are, I offered my contribution, a brilliant idea: they both convert to Catholicism. He didn’t think it would work.

Amazing sightings 2: Amorphophallus

This is the botanical equivalent of a clouded leopard. A tree, about 3.5m tall, which is in fact a flower! Blooming only every I don’t know how long. The “trunk” about 15cm in diameter, and yet you can bend it inside with one hand, and it is completely hollow. And the leaves, that have “webbings” that continue along the “branches”. An extremely awkward plant, and very different to the Amorphophalli(?) that I knew from books. And I should mention here the great Odoardo Beccari, Italian pioneer botanist, who explored Borneo when British and Dutch were the only colonial powers active in the area, and discovered innumerable plants (among which Amorphophallus), all alone, apparently going often barefoot (strange chap, probably..). And great man, in his will he asked never to bring seeds of Amorphophallus away. Of course, to appropriately celebrate him, few years ago Florence Botanical Garden acquired a large number of them.

Speed and gas

I got a yellow motorcycle. It is great. Here is an obvious consideration: the faster you go, the more gas/petrol/benzin you consume. Since I started to know my “jihad” motorbike, a full tank is not enough anymore to go to the forest and back. The gauge is deceivingly broken, irrespectively stopping at half-tank. The first time I finished the gas it was a miracle of smoothness: at full speed the engine coughed a bit and then went dead. Without losing any speed, I drifted silently for a very long stretch and stopping precisely in front of a benzin seller (they have small wooden shelves and sell petrol of rather poor quality in dirty flasks). The second time, I was wondering whether I should actually put some more gas before running dry again, and noticed how few sellers were open. I thought about the price of oil, wondered about the latest international developments, and that is when the engine stopped again. I asked around (people trying to conceal their surprise to be in front of a disheveled white person speaking Indonesian) and started walking toward a “gas station”. But sure enough, after 40m (and right at the base of an unpleasantly steep hill) a guy (automatically becoming an “ojek driver”) offered to go and get the petrol for me. Another man invited me in the shade of his shop to wait, offered conversation and then a funnel, and 5 minutes and 3$ later I was on the road again. Very nice people, and lucky connections.

“Office closed”

WCS office in Bandar Lampung will close on January 8. A big 5-year grant ended this past December, thus there is less money, and it was decided that this office would close. This is very unfortunate, both at a personal level (it was extremely convenient, a good internet connection and many helpful friends!) and in the larger scale, involving all of the above mentioned friends..
Waktre should be moved to some other office, maybe Way Kambas, maybe Medan.
Nunik, the heart of the office, is fired.
Iis was offered a position at the central office in Bogor. She has a large family, and the expense of getting a new house there, and school for her children is probably not sustainable. Commuting is also not an option, with three small children.
Edison’s “contract” expires at the end of January. Thus, he will work from home until then, and then look for a new job. He is usually not afraid to express extensively his opinions, but this time he only shows a repressed frustration and higher than usual appreciation for my bitter jokes.
CIMO and its crew are gone too. Cimo is the nickname of a happy green minivan with bright drawings of animals and plants, which used to go around Sumatra raising awareness on the ongoing conservation projects. It employed six people, among which Iyung, vespa fanatic and expert, and Sherly, shy, efficient and Sulawesi-born.

My instinct is to be outraged, especially because although the crisis was expected, until the end people have been left suspended, unaware of their future. In dispensing advice I more or less openly suggested several forms of resistance and protest. But the general reaction was an embarrassed smile, it was out of the question, so I let it go. I also must admit that I do not have all of the information. But it is an ugly situation, and it is heartbreaking to see these ill-treated people putting so much effort into packing everything, transporting and storing it, Nunik still helping and coordinating things from her own home.

Amazing sightings 1: clouded leopard

Or: “now they EAT my study animals??”

Well, I made probably the most amazing observation of this Indonesian experience. I heard a group of siamangs giving loud alarm calls, and thinking it would be elephants, I cautiously approached. And surprised a clouded leopard eating the youngest siamang of the group! He jumped away – well, we both did – and stared at me for some long 5 seconds, before bounding down a root and disappear in the undergrowth. My (many and conflicting) feelings: after the initial fright, when we stared at each other I was surprisingly not afraid, mainly because it was quite small. The body, without tail, less than 1m, and a nice, round, cattish and not altogether unfriendly face. I guess this is what most people say before losing an arm in an attempt to caress tigers in a zoo. Sadness for little Sandru, young promising siamang, though I didn’t know him very well (this is not one of my core groups). Sadness for the group, which is really unlucky, many of their youngs have already disappeared in the past (fate unknown), and they live in a poor area, destroyed by the 1997 forest fires. Disappointed for my own long-term research, as my sample size is further reduced. Excitement because as far as I know this has never been observed before. Guilt for the same reason (the greedy, cold scientist thinks about the steps in order to collect all of the relevant data, document every aspect of the event, be ready to answer all of the potential questions from colleagues and critics. Eh, empathizing and systemizing…)

Awful ojek drivers

I already mentioned the awful traffic of Jakarta. There are many ways of getting around town. Buses, dangerous and complicated (I was initiated to them just this last time I was there, very proud of it). The busway, brand new buses with preferential lanes. Taxis, but most people tell you to stick to one reliable company, and horror stories abound (they take you to a small alley, beat you up and rob you..). Something similar to Thai Tuk-Tuks, orange, noisy and polluting three-wheelers. And the ojeks, which are simply people with a motorcycle and nothing to do. You can get the reckless, the old and trembly, the one who doesn’t know where you want to go. It is a dangerous but very fast way of moving around, much cheaper than taxis (if you know the prices..). Recently I had two unpleasant experiences. One pretended not to understand the price I fixed and then got very angry when I refused to pay 30.000rp instead of 3.000. While he was driving I thought he was on some drug, and indeed when he understood that he couldn’t cheat me got a bit crazy, with bulging eyes and even shoved me. He was small and the last thing I wanted to do was to fight, so with a very commanding but at the same time soothing voice (is that possible?) I told him what I was prepared to give him, gave it to him and left. He didn’t wait for me outside (eheh, I was wondering). And the same night, going to the bus station, another one first accepted my price, then took another look at me and said “no, I will take you for free”, “Why?”, “Because you are beautiful”. To which, in spite of my sizeable self-esteem I couldn’t help feeling suspicious. So presently the roles reversed, and I was haggling to pay the bloody 5.000rp. Of course, being a man, I am not allowed to back out of a potentially tricky situation, so off we went. And sure enough, he started asking me, with a lamenting/eager tone, specific questions about my sexual life, preferences and physical attributes. This time I selected a worldly humorous tone, to de-dramatize by making fun of him. To which he reacted with begging, almost on the verge of tears, to let him touch my big banana (I apologize for the graphicness). So I had to recur to my commanding tone again, which worked, he took me to the bus, took the 5.000 and left. Love is a painful affair.
This of course made me think about theunfair advatage of being a man, at least when traveling alone (wars, as Mr. Eugenides points out, are a different thing..)

Tasbih

They are the muslim prayer beads. They are similar to the Greek worry beads, and there is a Buddhist equivalent too.
The way you use them: you pronounce each of four names of God 33 times, plus 1.


Subhan’allah (Glory be to Allah)
Alhamdulillah (Gratitude be to Allah)
Allahu Akbar (God is the greatest)
Laa Ilaha Illa Lohu (only once: there is no other God than Allah).

Another way to keep the count is to use your finger phalanges (3 for each finger and then repeat one thumb).
A third way, quite less romantic and fascinating, is a mechanical counter (you push a button each time). But it makes sense for old people with arthritic hands.