Fort Belgica

In the tropics the thick and lethargic heat make life move slower with good reason. Doing much of anything in this heat is soon exhausting. We have been snorkeling and climbing volcanoes every day since we arrived and today seems like a good day for some down time. I've also blocked up my left ear from snorkeling so much and now can't hear out of it at all. I fear I may have a tropical ear infection coming on...

I usually let these things work themselves out, but here the thick salty air makes things fester. Even small scratches soon turn to festering wounds and everything takes a long time to heal. I don't understand why exactly this is, but it is related to the climate and Wallace himself was plagued by sores from the climate here during his own visit 150 years ago. Also, if it gets worse I am thousands of miles away from a modern hospital and essentially trapped here. I don't want to risk permanent damage to my hearing if this keeps up many more days.

So, I asked Allan and he took me on his motorbike to the local village doctor. We stopped outside of someone?s house on the far side of the village and Allen introduced me to a local Arab man who is the doctor. He took a simple water syringe and flushed my ears repeatedly. A lot of funky stuff came out actually, and Allen kept looking at me in astonishment. His facial expression and incredulous comments were hilarious. With all the sea trash out of my ears I could certainly hear better from my right ear, but the left is still swollen up, but clean at least.

Meanwhile Kevin and some of the other guys ended up drinking too much the night previous. Kevin had the bright idea of buying a huge tub of homemade Arak palm wine from our Bandanese friends. They brought it in an old gas canister and indeed this strong home brew wasn't that far off from gasoline in my opinion. Today though Kevin is limp as a rag and hung over in the tropical sun - the worst.

I went wandering around the village for lunch and met Daniel at the only cafe in town, a tiny parlor with some tables attached to a house. They make great avocado shakes. Daniel is a handsome adventurer type from Austria. His features make him look like a male model, but he is down to earth as they come and I like him a lot. He tells me about going four hours out in the deep sea off Banda to fish for yellowfin tuna with the local fishermen. They go out in tiny fishing boats far from land and reel in these huge fish by traditional hand lines! I find this absolutely fascinating!

I?m captivated by his amazing stories - huge schools of dolphin leaping out of the water, the sunrise far out at sea in a rickety fishing boat, and true stories of man versus sea, and man versus fish in the old tradition. Just last week after a storm a boat of five fishermen didn't return. Such disappearances at sea happen frequently out here on the islands. It is a different world.

Later in the afternoon I met Ayu and we walked through the town together and talked. She speaks good English and is eager to learn more. She took me up to the old Dutch Fort, Fort Belgica, to show me the ruins and beautiful views over the island. Up there just before dark we listened to the town's muezzin blare from the mosque, the call to prayer. I am growing to love the sing song chants of the muezzin throughout the days here. Their is a beautiful, ancient, and soulful quality to the sound that resonated somewhere deep in your soul. It is also very romantic in this dreamy tropical town. We watched the sun set and darting swallows coming back to the citadel ruins to roost before nightfall came.

I can?t help but feel the timelessness of this place. It feels romantic, magical, and uncorrupted by the rampant consumerism and globalization that have transformed so many other places. In the streets here people walk or ride bicycles, they all smile and say "hallo". There are crumbly historic ruins back to back with peoples humble houses and a sense of isolation that seems to make this place resilient in their traditions and values that have changed or been obliterated elsewhere.

Tomorrow morning a big Pelni boat, the Ciremai from Jakarta, is arriving on its onward route back West. Kevin and the Brazilians will be jumping on it to get back to Ambon. The next boat back is not for two weeks and the once a week plane is booked. I'll be staying on with some of the others to work out another way back. I can't leave this place yet.