Febrina and Lasma

Febrina and Lasma appear to have found each other. They are like twins. They have become inseparable. Both are tiny, both are bright. I call them ‘Mikro’ and ‘Mini’.  People think that they are just young girls because they are both so tiny. They giggle together, share stories, complement each other.

Apparently they are now looking for fish along with the males of the team and the driver of the boat. I hear their joyful voices. They are generally helpful, always adventurous of spirit. They make easy contact with people and have ready smiles. They have no difficulty filling their days and are terribly excited about being on the Boat Budaya. Personally, I am not a camper, but these young women prefer sleeping on the boat to sleeping in a hotel room.

They were infinitely helpful with the day-to-day activities on the Boat Budaya.

I like to give them experiences that people with greater means would be able to give to their children. Today we swam together in one of the hotspring pools of Pusuk Buhit. For Febrina it was the first time; Lasma’s family originates from close to Pusuk Buhit and she had experienced it once before. I want the journey to be joyful for them, full of adventures and new things.

Nevertheless, it is also my task to get them to focus. Today I impressed upon them that they had been selected because they are so bright. In Jakarta, I had asked them to blog their experience and Ojak had prepared a website for them:  Solu Bolon Bona Pasogit.
 Both like to write, but so far no words have emerged except for the occasional comment on facebook. They do not seem to have been inspired by having a communal blogspot. It is one of my challenges to reveal to them how this can be an outlet for their creative spirits.

Lasma Sitanggang and Febrina Pakpahan enjoy using the cameras
that I bought (secondhand) for them. (Photo by MJA Nashir)

Today, when Nashir and Pak Jerry went to the market to find cooking supplies and ingredients, I took them aside and we talked about the possible content of a report on their Jakarta experience. I impressed upon them the need to get their report done to free up their minds for the next step. Yesterday we showed the film in Sianjur Mula2 and today we were to show it in Hasinggaan. The reports are an important part of the journey, and it is up to me to make sure that serious attention is paid to this facet of our travels.

By the end of the day, both claimed to have finished their writing, but their stories are not yet uploaded. Perhaps we should tackle that right away before the night deepens.

Working on the boat.

A Brief Stop at Tuktuk to Recharge Batteries

The directors of the Festival Danau Toba expected us, apparently. So one decision was made for me. Thankfully. From Tiga Ras, on that dark, dark first night, we crossed Lake Toba to Tuktuk. We sought the Festival Directors unsuccessfully (it turns out they are in the home that Bintang Sitompul had reserved for us, but had had to cancel because it had been ‘booked for the festival! Small world!) We ended up in Tabo Cottages for the night and it felt like a homecoming. We would be assured of a good time and a pleasant night! I enjoyed chatting with the owner, Annette Horschman, and getting the scoop about this, that and the other. I was thankful to sleep on a nice soft bed instead of the cold, hard floor of the Boat Budaya.

I heard the rain in the night and it was grey and bleak when I got up. “What is the weather like these days” I asked Annette. “Horrible since the beginning of the month,” was her immediate answer. The rainy, windy season has begun. I started to make calculations to postpone our journey until May. A two-week boat ride in the rain strikes me as not so very pleasant.

But then the magic started to happen. It was Nashir. “We have a big boat, why not take full advantage of it? Design the interior as a textile exhibition. Set it up so that we can show the film in the boat. Send the vehicle back home to reduce expenses. Buy a mattress, so Sandra doesn’t have to stay in hotels…”

I remembered Annette’s story about the huge group reservation that had half cancelled at the last minute while she had purchased many new mattresses. I asked her if we could borrow, rent or have her caste-offs and she was immediately willing. We are now travelling with two bed mattresses and 6 camping mattresses in addition to our mats. We have the beginnings of a cozy Boat Budaya.

Mas Nashir has just emerged from the bowels of the boat shrouded in a tattered old mat and wearing a mask. Suddenly the boat is a stage! We are all excited and snapping pictures. We are on our way to Pusuk Buhit, the mountain that represents the origins of Batak culture. We will meet the vehicle there and do our first Pulang Kampung thing in the village where Ompu Sabar and Ompu Erwin live. I can hardly wait to introduce Lasma and Febrina to these former weavers and have them see their reaction to our film.

Old Batak Plaited Mat

The ragged old mat that Nashir had over his shoulders is a new acquisition. Towards the end of our chat last night, Annette Horschmann fetched it for me. She had salvaged it from some Batak village where children were playing with it and it was being left to rot. It is a truly remarkable mat and not just because it is the filthiest that I have ever had my nose in the proximity of.

It shows the quality of the mat-weaving of the past. I was immediately reminded of Jasper and Pirngadie’s assessment in 1908 of  Batak basket weaving. I have never seen a mat as fine and complex. I stuffed it into a plastic bag and then stashed it in the Boat Budaya when it came to pick us up at Tabo Cottages. Some day…some day… there might be a school of Batak handicrafts that requires heritage pieces. I itch to start such a school.

Hello Boat Budaya

We caught up with the Boat Budaya much later than planned, yesterday. It was dark, cold and wet. It was not what I had hoped for as a first meeting with the boat.

The entire day worked out differently than planned. Of course. We know this already. Every day will be exciting because there will be unexpected elements.

Yesterday, at breakfast in the Green Hotel in Berastagi, we had a group meeting. 

Breakfast meeting in the Green Garden Hotel in Berastagi.
(Photo by Ojak Tampe Silaban)

By that time, Febrina had already called her tulang and he was available to meet with us before 4 p.m. We wanted to pick up Lasma that day and she lived in the opposite direction. What to do? We decided to visit the uncle briefly, just to make his acquaintance, and perhaps at the end of the journey we would be able to visit a little longer, having established what we wanted.

In a valiant attempt to use our time efficiently, Mas Nashir went off to the market to pick up his long list of supplies (staples, rope, white cloth (film screen), pens, paper, electrical wire, plastic boxes to keep  our stuff dry in the boat) while I wrote my blog in the hotel. MJA came back wearing one thick jacket overtop another. Both were new. It was cold. How would it be on the lake? I immediately wanted exactly the same. We loaded up and headed back to the market. I stayed in the vehicle to make sure that my white skin would not drive up the prices and I handed over 30 euro to the rest of the crew. They came back all wearing new, thick jackets and carrying three more in plastic bags for Lasma and me. And then handed me the change! We set off in spectacular merriment, all cuddly and warm. Pak Jerry had performed at his very best and came back, of course, the most stylish of us all. He regaled of us his story of how he got the best possible price.

It was noon by the time we set off for Merek, but the roads were terrible (read: corruption; there is always money being devoted to the roads but the roads never get better) and the going was slow. When we finally got to the turn-off to tulang’s village, the bridge was out. It was too much of a risk to send our vehicle down the improvised wet and muddy path, so we decided to walk, rather than waste the time and effort expended so far. We walked through dramatically beautiful fields of chilli peppers, tomatoes and cauliflower and then it started to drizzle. By the time we got to tulang’s house, in the middle of nowhere, we were all wet.

Walking to Febrina's Tulang's house near Merek
(Photo by Paul Manahara Tambunan?) 

Tulang was not one for ceremony. He didn’t go through the traditional exchange of words upon meeting; instead he went straight to a back room and fetched some sopping wet strings of rotting plant matter. This was hori. With his thumb nail, he scraped off the thin outer layer and then showed how the cleaned bark broke down into strong, thin, strands of equal size that he called yarn. 

Hori fibre
(Photo by MJA Nashir)

We had no time to digest this information and ask questions before he was showing us how yarn is made from banana trunks.  

Banana fibre
(Photo by MJA Nashir)

And then from alo2, another plant.  

Alo alo
(Photo by MJA Nashir)

I have to devote more than a blog to the information that he shared.

It started to rain hard and we needed to get back. Pak Jerry had decided to negotiate the road and had come to fetch us. But he had got a flat tire on the way. On the way back, we had to change the tire. By the time we were headed for Lasma’s house, some 3 hours hence, it was already past the time that we were to climb aboard the Boat Budaya, but the skipper was kind and friendly on the telephone.

When we finally picked up poor Lasma, she had waited 6 hours for us. But she was still filled with happy excitement, gave us all a drink of tea or coffee, and introduced us to her parents and other family members. 

Lasma's house where we had a hot drink
Photo by MJA Nashsir

Lasma's parents
(Photo by MJA Nashir)

Mamak Si Dirita, of p. 495-6  in Legacy, also ran over to our vehicle and after a very warm greeting, stuffed a huge bag full of sweet breads into my hands.

Then we negotiated the hairpin turns in the pitch-black night down to the great traditional harbour of Tiga Ras and met up with our skipper, Pak Siregar.

First sight of the Boat Budaya in Tiga Ras harbour
(Photo by MJA Nashir)

Our boat was huge, gaily painted in pastel green, blue and pink with purple curtains and red and green Christmas lights. I saw that there were new life vests in the boat in answer to my request for this safety measure. I was moved. The boat was clean and pleasant.

But my courage was at a low ebb. It was cold and dark. We hadn’t had our evening meal. I had hoped that we would be able to sail to Tongging but was told that this was impossible. There was nowhere to stay in Tiga Ras. And although we had purchased mats, I couldn’t imagine that I would be able to sleep in the boat on the hard metal floor. We huddled in a circle around our donated solar lights (thank you Dirk and Sineke van Uitert) 

First use of our solar lamps. Oh, so comforting! (Photo by MJA Nashir)

First voyage on Boat Budaya. (Photo by MJA Nashir)

and ate sweet breads. How lucky I am to have an uncomplaining team. I was responsible but directionless, and my team was undaunted. The tears come now, as I write, when I think of it.