Kuala Simpang: Day 1

My mom and I awoke early the next morning to get our exercise in.  There's a fitness center on-site, and one of the ladies with whom we met at the fitness center yesterday said it would be open at 6 AM.  We arrived at the gym at exactly 6 AM to find the doors locked, and the front desk empty with no sign of life.  We waited 10 minutes, then went down to the lobby to ask the front desk clerk to see if he knew anything about the fitness center.  He said, "Oh, I believe the gym opens at 7 AM, not 6."  OK ... so we went running outside.  Big mistake.  With cracked sidewalks, smoke-filled air, and constant whistling from men traveling the streets, we decided we couldn't run out here.  Actually, all it took was for something to enter my eye, and that was it.  I don't know what it was, but I wear contacts and the pain was not unlike an eyelash in one's eye, but worse.  We went back to the hotel and checked the gym.  Still not a single soul.  We decided to then run up and down the stairwell until we broke a sweat, returned to the gym to find the same cold, locked doors, then went back to the lobby.  The same front desk clerk then said it might open at 8 AM.  Uh-huh, right.  He really didn't know.  He picked up the phone to speak to someone and then said, "Oh so sorry, ladies, but the gym will be closed the rest of this week due to Ramadan."  Aha!  We didn't mind the gym being closed, but seriously get your facts straight.  These people were just clueless. 

The gym remained closed while the restaurant stayed open.  Hmm, that makes a lot of sense.  Silly hotel operation.  An all-you-can-eat buffet breakfast was included in our room rate.  We were the only people there, and let me tell you it was very awkward because the three ladies at the cashier were all fasting, and we felt really bad for being there wanting to eat when they couldn't.  To lessen the awkwardness and out of respect to the ladies, we chose a table that was far from the them on the other side of the restaurant where a huge column at the buffet bar obstructed their view of us eating.  Well, we tried anyway ... it was still bad when we got up to get our food.  And little did we know we sat near the kitchen, and the ladies periodically walked from cashier to kitchen and back.  We didn't stay long, however.  The food was terrible.  Some was bland, others were over-seasoned, and all of the food was lukewarm.  We attributed this failure to Ramadan.  We assumed the cooks couldn't taste the food when they prepared it.  Mom was the most disappointed since she was the one who wanted to return to this hotel just for the 'wonderful buffet.' 

Our van arrived 15 minutes early, which was a surprise because in Indonesia its people live by 'jam karet,' the idea that things in life are supposed to happen in a relaxed fashion and that tardiness is not a moral crime as it is in much of the Western world.  We appreciated this, and hopped in the van along with all our luggage to meet Pak Feri, or Mr. Feri, who was our driver for the day.  A nice, friendly man in his mid-40s who has a good sense of humor and a lot of patience.  Anyone who drives long distance in Indonesia on these narrow roads alongside crazy, road rage-driven people is patient in my book.  I climbed into the backseat with my sisters as my mom took the front seat next to Pak Feri.  In just a few short hours, we would be back in Kuala Simpang where all our relatives live!  We were so excited to embark on this journey passing many lush, green fields, small towns, food hawkers, and locals along the way.  We've made this trip so many times in 2000 and 2002, but back then the drive was always dreadfully long, boring, and hot.  We got so bored we used to play 'count how many bridges and mosques you see.'  And I also remember the roads were in horrible condition.  But this year was different because we were all grown up and completely enthused with everything this trip entailed.  And of course, we were traveling a road with very few tourists and getting a very authentic feel and look into everything Sumatran.  We're now old enough to appreciate this.

My sisters and me in our van

Within an hour into our trip we stopped for snacks.  Indonesia's streets are lined with warungs, mom and pop shops selling fresh fruit, Indonesian brand bag of chips, ice cold beverages, anything your heart desired.  All of this helps make these road trips all the more interesting.  And why not support local businesses.  For many Indonesian families, a warung is what puts food on the table.  On our first stop, Pak Feri was nice enough to get out of the car to pick up some fruit for us.  He got us rambutan, buah duku, and our most beloved Indonesian drink, teh botol. 

Rambutan

The perfect drink on a hot day ... BEFORE ...

AFTER ...

The rambutan, whose taste is similar to lychee, was sweet as usual.  My mom handed us some and we all screamed because there were so many ants on them!  Ha.  Fun times.

The next stop my mom jumped out to buy some mangis, or mangosteen whose interior is white and compartmentalized like garlic, but soft and tangy like mango.  

Mangosteen

We talked the whole ride where my mom told Pak Feri stories of our past trips to Indonesia, her upbringing, drama amongst her nine siblings, life in America, etc. etc.  We also passed by many mosques of varying styles and colors along the way.

This was probably the most beautiful mosque we encountered on the ride.

Before we knew it, we arrived in Kuala Simpang and turned down an even narrower, long, dirt road which we followed for about 200 feet before we came to a stop.  We were here, we were here!  Here at my mom's uncle's house on top of a little hill.

Many homes in rural Indonesia have tin roofs -- this is the view from my mom's uncle & aunt's home.

My mom and her aunt, Nek Embok at Nek Embok's house

We knocked on Nek Embok's house and it was as if the last 10 years hadn't occurred at all.  She looked exactly the same as I remembered her.  She was so happy to see us, and I honestly don't know if she even expected us at all.  It wasn't long before Kek Yusuf, my mom's uncle, showed up from work.  He was going to show us the hotel we'll be staying at just outside the city.  While we waited, I played with my great cousin's son ... I tried to anyway, but he cried. 

My little cousin and his mom

Kek Yusuf then led us to our accommodation for the next two nights, Hotel Morielisa.  We contemplated on staying at any one of our relatives' homes, but my mom ultimately opposed the idea because we wanted our privacy and believe it or not, we wanted the convenience of a Western toilet.  In rural Indonesia and many Southeast Asian countries, a toilet is a hole in the ground where you manually flush down your waste with a bucket of water.  If you've ever experienced this, you know it's a real inconvenience.

We thanked and paid Pak Feri for his services, and requested that he meet us at the hotel on Monday, August 20th at 11 AM for the drive back to Medan.  He's such a nice person, we were blessed to have had him as our personal driver.  Kek Yusuf also left us to rest before coming back to pick us up later. 

Hotel Morielisa surprised us.  After all, this is Kuala Simpang where many things are still behind, old, and rough.  But it's a relatively new hotel, having only been opened for probably about a year, and everything is very clean.  We didn't have a reservation because we didn't know where exactly we were staying in town, but the hotel staff were so nice they allowed us to see several rooms before we agreed to stay here.  And because of the Ramadan holiday daily breakfast was not available so they gave us a discounted rate.  We decided on two rooms conjoined by a door in the middle.  The entire cost for two rooms per night was $68 USD, taxes included.  What a sweet deal.  The rooms were very clean, each had its own bathroom, and one of them had its own living room.  So we booked two nights.

Our room was at the top of the stairs, 2nd floor

Sahara settling into our hotel living room

Our living room views of the countryside below

A view of some of the homes near our hotel

One of the first things we did upon settling into our hotel rooms was wash the ants off all the fruit we purchased!

My family hard at work!

Again, the hotel staff were so nice they lent us a few bowls for our fruit.

The end result

Rambutan & Buah Duku

In Indonesia it's typical to have fruit or snacks laid out on the living room table -- that way when guests come to visit there is something to offer them.  We also enjoyed watching mom pull open a gigantic fruit by the name of cempedak, which almost looks like a durian, but tastes similar to a jackfruit.  On second thought, it probably looks more like a jackfruit than it does a durian, but has a slight taste of durian.  Confused?  You can read all about it here. 

Mom excited to share this giant fruit with us

She pulled it open like it was nothing

Ta-da!  The fruit is compartmentalized and has the texture of a jackfruit. 

Its brown seeds look like chestnuts

Gigi enjoying some cempedak

I don't remember how long it was before Kek Yusuf and his sons whisked us away for a late lunch at his house.  But we left the hotel in style ...

Kek Yusuf (back left) and his two sons & grandson.  We fit right in -- this is Sumatra's main mode of transportation, a ride on a motor-run becak -- woo hoo!

A ride into town

Crossing the town's long bridge and looking back at mom, Kek Yusuf & family

Weeeeeeee!!

We've always loved a ride on the becak.  It's almost inevitable.  Because Kuala Simpang is such a small city, it's just much easier, more convenient, and cheaper to get around on a becak.  We were lucky, however, Kek Yusuf and his sons own a small becak business.  Check back for details on Indonesian food, family, and more fun to come.