As the sun dips onto the tropical forest roof top the street wakes up and blossoms with life. There are people barbecuing chickens over smoky medal pits, giant elderly rice pots are being washed on the side of the street and the children are walking home. I peddle along hungry as usual taking in the scene. I have become accustomed to ignoring most of the hi misters, hello misses and the occasional I love you as I peddle and sing to my new favorite song “Crash Into Me” by the Dave Mathews Band. A twisted ironic anti-manifested choice of favorites I still don’t fully understand.
As I peddle along, ear phones beating away, feeling more like a mutant then a Madonna from all this attention, I make an exception for children and wave hello at the little people, all of whom love Facebook and have camera cell phones. Selawesi, Indonesia is full of contrast between old and new, with blackberry cell phones at every turn in the village, homemade petrol stations and unique toilets. Regardless of the wonderful medley of contrasts I have been making great time because when I stop I am surrounded by groups of curious folks, groups of up to 30 and if I hang out too long they multiply because they call each other on their cell phones to let their surrounding neighbors know there is a lady on a magic bicycle at their shop. I now stop only for water and on occasion I take a rest in the trees out of sight. I would stop to eat as well but those opportunities have become limited. Or so I thought.
Facebook mobile is offered free with a new cell phone
Unique Toilet
Homemade Petrol Station
Are you hungry? I hear called out from the street at dusk in the small town of Morissa, Sulawesi, Indonesia…I laugh and say YES! A big ole yes, the biggest yes I have said in some time. Other then my tiny ailing jar of expensive Skippy peanut butter, some crackers and hydration salts from my first aid kit, it has been a few days since I have eaten a meal. I quickly peddle towards the setting sun and into a small shop. I am offered everything that I smile and nod at as my stomach jumps with anticipatory jubilation. I am not in a restaurant but rather a family’s living room/small coffee shop. They are eating cucumber and fish salad, rice, donuts and green and brown jiggling jelly slices and therefore, so am I. I top off my wonderful feast with ridiculously sweet milk coffee and jelly slices to go. I profusely thank the kind family, offer them some money and peddle on.
As the night begins and the sun fades farther away the cooking festivities begin. Every other family I pass has set up a giant picnic of sorts out in front of their house. The food and laughter is plentiful for another day of fasting from sun up to sun down during Ramadahm has commenced. Ramadahm is also a time for doing good deeds, I am grateful to the family that just fed me, they will no doubt be scoring mega points with Allah for their kind gesture.
I don’t normally cycle at night but Pandemic The Magic Bicycle is now fashioned with some super bright front lights. A combination of a head lamp, small torch and two taped together cigarette lighters equipped with single led light bulbs, a collage of lights bright enough to lead the way for I will be peddling in the festive nutritious dark as much as possible from here on out.
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