We woke up at 4:00 am to get to the airport early for our 7:25 am flight. We wanted to be absolutely sure that we would get on the Haikou Airlines flight even if there were glitches with the taxi or immigration. When I entered the dark storefront that served as the hotel lobby, I woke up the attendant who was sleeping on an air mattress behind the desk. I don’t think she fully woke up, but she was awake enough to order us a taxi and send us on our way. We passed part of our time in the airport in the first-class lounge with snacks and coffee. Once on board, we could barely buckle our own seatbelts or get our own tray tables out. We were two of about 20 people on 747 aircraft, and the only two in first class. So, they had their eyes on us, ready to anticipate every need. This was a welcome change from the gruff security and immigration staff we experienced earlier.
As we flew over Malaysia into Singapore, something looked
unusual with the landscape. I realized that I was seeing date palm plantations
and was stunned at the proportion of the land with lines of trees following the
contours of the land and creating fingerprint-like patterns. Over 25% of
Malaysian land has cleared and replanted with date palms. Concern over the
rapid deforestation led the Malaysian government to declare that it was
preserving 50% of the country’s land to remain natural. Indonesia is ahead of
Malaysia in terms of total palm oil production and acreage, but since there is
more total land across Indonesia, the proportion is smaller.
We transferred through Singapore and had to go out and back
in through immigration and then had a short 1.5-hour flight to Medan, our first
stop in Indonesia. Medan is the capital city of the North Sumatra province with
a population of over 2 million and an economy based on trade, agriculture and
of course, palm oil production. We immediately felt the vibe change from all of
our previous destinations. Sprawling low-rises cinderblock buildings lined
pock-marked, pothole-laden, and cracking streets crowded with cars and
motorbikes. There was not a high-rise building to be found. Although we arrived
at the Hotel Grand Mercure in the late afternoon with time to see a little bit
of the city, it was nearing sunset by the time we finally got done with
check-in and out the door.
We set out to walk towards the Tjong a Fie Mansion, but
within 10 minutes we were stressed out and snapping at each other. There were
no sidewalks to speak of, and the edges of the roads were difficult to navigate
owing to the broken pavement and piles of rubble. It was hot, we were hungry, we
couldn’t figure directions because so many streets were closed for construction, and we were done with our
attempt at an adventure. Our final destination was a money changing storefront,
so we called Indonesia’s version of Uber, a Bluebird taxi. I had downloaded the
app and linked it to a credit card in the room, but when it arrived, the
payment option was still the default option of cash, and I didn’t know how to
change it. The fact that it was rush hour in Medan meant that a trip of just
over a mile took nearly half an hour. We passed the time marveling at the
daredevil behavior of motorbikes in the crush of cars and attempting to converse
with our driver through the phone. It seemed that Mr. X was happy to wait for
his money in front of “DolarAsia” and then offered to continue driving us. As
it was getting dar, we arranged for him to take us by the Masjid Raya Al-Mashu,
or Medan’s Grand Mosque. It was built in the early 1900s by the reigning sultan
and a wealthy merchant (Tjong a Fie) and was striking in its octagonal design
and the mix of European and Middle Eastern design elements. After that we
returned to the hotel, and I got to see my mother the giddiest she has been on
this journey so far.
When we were at DolarAsia, she had realized that the reading
glasses she usually has hanging around her neck were missing. She was convinced
they had fallen off when we got in the taxi, so the driver retraced the route
so we could search the road where he picked us up. I reassured mom that I had a
pair that she could use during the rest of the trip, but lo and behold they
were next to the sink in the bathroom at the hotel. Her eyes lit up with joy,
she started smiling and jumping with happiness, and I got a huge hug. It was as
I had expected – my urgency in getting us out of the room had caused her to
leave her glasses behind after brushing her teeth. Crisis averted!
We ate dinner at the hotel and tried to get accustomed to
the cloyingly sick smell of Asiatic jasmine that permeated the first floor. Our
room, on the other hand, smelled like antique wood and mildew, but at least it was
not as strong. There was a Qibli on the ceiing in the corner pointing the direction to Mecca for prayer. We didn't pray, but Mom did use the prayer rug she found in the closet to warm her feet when we went to bed. The following morning, I woke early to go down to the fitness
room, which overlooked an idyllic garden and pool. The time at the pool did not
last long – by 8 am we were downstairs with our luggage and by 9 we were back
at the Medan airport to move on to Balikpapan and three days at an orangutan
sanctuary.
PHOTOS
Prayer mat as feet blanket. I was have done that
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