Lost in translation ?

One of my friends in Maumere has left his guitar in my house for the last couple of weeks. Last night I noticed that there was a sticker on the inside visible through the soundhole so I picked it up, thinking I could practice my Indonesian reading.

This is what I read (and I quote exactly) :

"Since 1887 yahamas has making musicrhonical if its teache quality beauty yahamas guitars is a proted of thorogui musical kontage. Alla goodme empty salectif endoge under roundist untermental countri. Them this fones materials are supally crafted to become a yahamas guitar."

It's hard to disagree, really.

Where have all the eggs gone ?

Shopping in a town like Maumere is qute easy.

There are two traditional markets for fruit, vegetables, fish and meat  - for meat, read chicken, although there is occasionally daging babi (pig meat) available if you go very early in the morning. (By the way, if you want a chicken you usually choose it on the hoof as it were. Most people then tie their purchase to their motorbike upside down by the feet and despatch it to the next world when they get home. However, the chicken seller will also do this messy business for you at the market if you want, thank goodness.)

And then there are the kios. As in most Asian countries, these are literally everywhere and are usually small bamboo structures in front of people's homes selling such staples as pulsa (phone credit), cigarettes, paraffin (for cooking stoves), washing powder, hair oil, sweets, superglue, motorbike cleaning products, instant noodles, sugar and of course, eggs. Every shop sells eggs, you see stacks of egg trays everywhere (your purchases are put into a plastic bag for you to carry home and one egg costs RP1.000). My egg consumption has soared while I've been here, they come with rice dishes, noodle dishes (i.e. almost everything), and are usually either fried or hardboiled.

Until this week, that is. On Saturday I went to the small kios near my house to buy some eggs for Sunday breakfast. No eggs.... oh well, I thought, that's strange. The next day I tried two other kios- no eggs. Very odd... On Monday, no eggs anywhere... Yesterday I went to the market where there are (usually) dozens of places to buy eggs. Guess what ? (Well, there were quails' eggs but they're not the same.) Eventually I asked why there were suddenly no eggs anywhere - the answer was the title of my last post - musim hujan, rainy season. Apparently all the eggs sold on Flores are imported (another surprise) and the egg boat hasn't been able to come because of the stormy weather....

Every day you learn something new I guess.

Musim Hujan

It's been a while since my last post, the reason for which is that there doesn't really seem to have been much to write about. Life has changed a bit in Maumere since the New Year as the rainy season (musim hujan) has arrived in earnest. What this means is prolonged periods confined to barracks listening to the torrential rain on the tin roof. Most days the rain starts at about 2pm (coincidentally and unfortunately the same time as I finish work) and it usually then continues well into the night with a few brief pauses. As my only means of transport is a motorbike, and the roads are awash with lakes and rivers everywhere, going out in the rain is really to be avoided if possible. Shopping has to be done at great speed in between the downpours – the market turns into a sea of mud in the rain – so I stock up on tomatoes and cucumbers when I can and often now my evening meal is the ever popular, but rather monotonous, mie telur (instant noodles with an egg to you). At least it's cheap, a packet of mie costs RP1.500 and an egg is RP1.000 so the whole exciting dish costs less than €0.20. Pineapples are still in abundance and two nice ripe ones can be had for RP5.000.

One unfortunate consequence of the arrival of the rainy season is that the number of mosquitoes has increased dramatically, with a big increase in the incidence of mosquito-borne diseases. At today's morning report in the hospital, I heard that there are 190 patients in the hospital (95% bed occupancy rate), of whom 61 are children. Of these, 33 are ill with DHF (Dengue Haemmorrhagic Fever) and 16 have malaria. [One very sad story - on Christmas Day, the 7 month old daughter of one of the managers in the hospital died in the private ward. She had been admitted with malaria but apparently died of anaphylactic shock following an injection. She was their first child.]

My reading has accelerated again as a result of this enforced imprisonment and so I'm eagerly awaiting the arrival of a long overdue book parcel sent by Ruth from Canada (posted in early November). The delivery time seems to have lengthened recently, I received a few parcels last year that arrived within about two weeks but my last one took over six weeks to turn up.

And finally, in other news - I now have just twenty more weeks to go in Maumere.

Any teachers out there ?

Going fishing at Ipir

Yesterday afternoon I took a trip to Ipir with Daniel, who works in the Blood Transfusion Unit in the hospital. Ipir is a small fishing village about 30kms away from Maumere on the south coast. There's a beautiful unspoilt beach there and two small fishing boats were preparing to launch and set their nets.

More photos to be found on Facebook by clicking HERE.