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CONTENTS

Poems from the closet (Bob) 2

Fact or fiction (Morris Mungai) 2

Dinosaur! (Hello Mister) 4

Urm...Are you a tour guide!? (Sarah) 6

Make your own booze (Pete) 7

Hello Mrs (Anon) 8

Cooking on a camp stove (Pete) 9

EDITORIAL

By Pete Howson and Sarah Oakes

I’ve had typhoid this month so I’ve not got much to

update you on, other than things to do with

constipation and sweating. At least Kate Thingamabob

was there to take my mind off things.

If you missed the beautiful day’s events, here are

some pictures for you to keep and treasure forever.

Why not pin them on your wall or just keep them in

your wallet!

Well we’ll leave it with you.

Love Pete and Sarah.

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POEMS FROM THE CLOSET

Dinner with Danny and Lau

By Bob

A knife (or the V-shaped remains thereof)

Lies on a dwarfed blue table

And laments without malice

As it relates the glories of culinary duties gone by

A knife (or the V-shaped remains thereof)

Lies beside the cutting board on a dwarfed blue table

And struggles without drudgery

As it works to free its handle from the tired grip of electrical tape on the loll

A knife (or the V-shaped remains thereof)

Lies beside the cutting board and the rice cooker on a dwarfed blue table

And watches without reprisal

As smiling Bajawans make their way thru the world via a dark and aged stairwell

A knife (or the V-shaped remains thereof)

Lies beside the cutting board and the rice cooker and Lau’s sambal on a dwarfed blue table

And listens without reproach

As another day’s memories are offered to the evening skies

A knife (or the V-shaped remains thereof)

Lies beside the cutting board and the rice cooker and Lau’s sambal and the bottles of mokeh putih on a dwarfed blue table

And lingers without trepidation

As two friends share both their dreams and their time away

Indeed ... the smiling V-shaped remains of a knife lie on a dwarfed blue table

As two friends settle down on cloth cover Coke cases to dine el fresco

Content with their walks and their wives; with their lot and their lives

Open, like Buddha and the tukang’s gate, to the world as it is

FACT OR FICTION

By Morris Mungai

Once again welcome to the funeral dispatch. This time

don’t be alarmed since there are no slaughter cases

only for a smaller part.

This one is a bit scary for me since it happened next

door and involved somebody very friendly and close

to me. Anyway here we go:

I was woken up by a knock on my door at 3.00 am in

the morning.Where I come from we call this time

‘Nguku ya mbere ‘ which literally means ‘the first

cock’. This is the time the cocks crow the first time to

warn the lazy people that it’s almost time to wake up.

The knock was from the Mama kost where I live.

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From the way she sounded, it was a distress call so I

jumped from my rickety bed and out I was. She

informed me that her youngest son had become

seriously sick and could I help jemput her to the

rumah sakit while her husband carried the sick son.

We arrived at the dispensary but there was no doctor

in sight. By now the boy was already unconscious. As

we tried our minimal first aid skills( Vso should include

a First Aid section in the ICT) , the nurses stood there

helplessly. I was mad at them coz instead of trying to

help the boy, they were trying to take the history of

the boy. Anyway the boy died in my hands as the

father was trying to get the doctor from her house.

The cause of death was diagnosed by everybody

around as Kepala Sakit since no other test was done.

So we took the body back home and started

immediately for the burial preparations. The burial

was done two days later and this is where the

nightmare starts.

After the Christian ceremony, someone whispered to

me that at night there would be another ceremony.

What ceremony? I asked. I was reliably informed that

there would be a traditional ceremony and that I

should attend. Being the curious one, I never refuse

an opportunity. The ceremony started at around 11

pm and a scary looking master of ceremony appeared

dressed in traditional regalia. I thought these

ceremonies used to happen in a dark place

somewhere but it was done in the main house. Toe

nails and some hair were cut form each of the family

members and then tied together and thrown outside

the house. I was told this was to chase away the evil

spirits to cleanse the household. The next ritual was

breaking of coconut and each member was sprinkled

with the coconut juice on the head and then drunk

some. Two ayam kampung were also killed without a

knife and roasted and each member took a bite.

You will be disappointed that I didn’t take any photos

during this session because my camera just decided to

go off and refused/failed to recharge. Was this some

kind of magic or what to ensure I never recorded the

occasion? Where I come from we call it

‘Mazingaombwe’. I never believed in them but I’m

now changing my view after witnessing this.

These days to reduce my loneliness I have become a

serious soccer fan and every evening you will certainly

see me in the soccer field which my good neighbors

back home call ‘egetigoro’ (these neighbors will

remain nameless for the sake of my neck since they

are known to be very aggressive. That word in my

bahasa ibu is also unmentionable in public).

You will see me watching the Bupati cup football

tournament (itu pasti!) and on a lighter note that will

describe my placement village in a positive way, I am

always given a seat a the VIP stand during all the

matches that I attend.

Today was the ‘Hari kebangkitan’ and I managed to

steal the show by singing our Kenyan anthem ‘jambo

bwana” to the attentive Kepala Desa and other invited

guests.

(N.B. New vols we also need to hear your good and

crazy experiences from the ‘egetigoro’)

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URM...ARE YOU A TOUR GUIDE!?

By Sarah O

It was Easter and because of my little holiday I

decided to go to Labuan Bajo with some other vols.

On Friday evening we were told there is good live

music in one of the bars there, I didn’t hear live music

(except local songs) for 5 months, so I really wanted to

go there. The moment we walked in I already saw a

group of men looking at us and one of them waved to

me. Now I don’t want to sound too arrogant, but since

I moved to Indonesia, this is more like a daily thing, so

I didn’t took so much notice, just smiled and waved

back.

But when the same man came over to my table and

started a conversation in proper English, I start

realizing that we probably know each other. Before I

move on, I have to explain that I’m a really bad person

when it comes to remembering faces and to me a lot

of Indonesians all look the same.

Man: you live in Bajawa right?

I: Yes that’s right, Anda juga (thinking, I really

should know this guy)?

Man: You don’t remember who I am?

I: Uhm, saya lupah. (Thinking, his English is so

good, it must be a tourguide) Are you a tour

guide?

Man: (starts laughing) No, I’m the Bupati of Ngada

and we meet 2 times in my office

I: (Getting red as a lobster) Oh saya minta maaf,

you look so different tonight without a

uniform.

Bupati: (still laughing) You like it?

I: (Still embarrassed) Ya, itu sangat berbeda

Bupati: You are having holiday?

I: Yes, you too?

Bupati: Yes I’m visiting my family (Paul & Jenny arrive

at the table)

I: Jenny, this is our Bupati. (Paul + Jenny shake

hands.)

Paul: Nice to see you again

Bupati: I already saw you yesterday in Gardena Hotel

(read: backpacker hotel)

Paul: Oh you also stay in Gardena?

Bupati: No I stay in Bintang Hotel (read: ***** hotel)

Than we had a little social talk and he returned to his

table. After one hour we decided to go and we went

to his table to say bye to him. At that moment he

asked me when I planned to go back. Because my

school changed the holiday (because of national

exam) I had to go back on Easter Sunday (read:

difficult to find a bus/ travel). So I told him that I

hoped to go back on Sunday, but didn’t arrange

anything yet. Then he told me he was also going back

on Sunday and invited me to join him. Off course I

wanted that, so we changed numbers and I walked

out, very excited about what just happened.

The next day I text him to ask if I could still join and he

replied that I had to be at his hotel at 4.30 in the

morning. He told us he had to be in Bajawa at 11, so

this means he planned his travel in 6.5 hours. This

automatically means a police escort, because every

kamikaze run takes at least 8 hours without a stop.

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So the whole evening I was excited about this and

started texting everybody who knows the Bupati to

make them jealous. That night I didn’t go out

anymore, I wanted to be a good catholic girl in the

morning. So I put my alarm at 4 a.m. and start

dreaming about all the nice conversations we would

have about the development of Bajawa. I wake up as

planned at 4 a clock and got a big surprise. I had 7 text

messages of the Bupati saying he had to leave earlier

(3.30 a.m.) and asking me to call him. Also one

message saying my number was out of network. He

sent his first message at 1.30 in the morning, so

unfortunately I was still a sleep at that time. At 3 a.m.

he sent me a different message to tell me his driver

was waiting in front of my hotel. And at 3.10 a.m. that

his driver tried to find me in the hotel (read: no staff

in reception during night). So at 3.15 he sent me the

last message he left Labuan Bajo.

Off course I was disappointed, but I have to admit, he

really did a lot to try to contact me.

Because I really needed to go back to Bajawa that day,

I decided to get up strait and check for the morning

busses. But unfortunately there was no bus leaving,

because of the Easter mass. So I decided to go back to

the hotel and start texting all my tourguide friends if

they could help me and finally I found a travel leaving.

So the travel picked me up and told me we were

picking up 6 other bules and then we should go. But

the bule’s already left, so I had to wait in the car until

we get at least 8 people in the bus. This waiting

turned out to be 3 hours, so I finally arrived in Ruteng

(4 hours from Bajawa) at 6 p.m. There was no bus

leaving to Bajawa anymore, so a friend had to pick me

up there and bring me home.

So in the end my ride to Bajawa was a little bit

different than expected, but I still think it’s a good

story and at least I have the nomor HP of the Bupati

now ;-)

Ps1: the next day at school everybody told me the

Bupati joined the holy Easter mass at 10 a.m., so I

don’t have to feel guilty he wasted some time looking

for me.

Ps2: My “are you a tourguide?” was the joke of the

town for almost a week

MAKE YOUR OWN BOOZE

By Pete Howson

The following is an adaptation of my friends’ recipe

from HMP Grendon Underwood. The inmates used

brown bread instead of yeast, but I’m sure none of us

are that desperate yet.

What you need:

1 empty sprite bottle

1 sachet of yeast

½ litre of fruit juice

250g of sugar

Directions:

1. Half fill the sprite bottle with warm water;

2. Pour in the sugar and shake the bottle to mix it all

up till the sugars dissolved (Put the lid on first);

3. Pour in half a sachet of Fermipan yeast and shake

shake shake once again;

4. Pour in the fruit juice, leaving about 4cm of space

at the top for all the bubbling;

5. Make a small hole in the lid so the gases can

escape. If you don’t do this, the gases will escape

anyway, but they’ll make a terrible mess when it

explodes all over your ceiling;

6. Store in a warm place (anywhere but the freezer

in Indonesia) for 5 days;

7. Serve your lovely summer cocktail over ice, with a

straw and other fancy things that might detract

people’s attention from the taste.

REMEMBER – No hole in the lid = messy ceilings.

Chin-chin!

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HELLO MRS

By Anon

Hello Mrs

One of my biggest hobbies in Indonesia is sweating. I

do it all day and night. The other day I played futsal,

but had to stop after just 5 minutes because 3 players

on my own team had drowned! What can I do to

improve my popularity on the pitch Mrs?

Dear Chef’s Pants

The easy way to handle this is to learn from Mother

Nature; Dogs don’t sweat, they pant to remove excess

body heat; Pigs roll in the mud. If you’ve tried this

already, then here are some last resorts:

1. Maintain less body hair. Hair traps warm air

against the skin, causing excessive perspiration

and a lot of the bacteria and oils that cause odour.

2. Dress appropriately. Wear natural fibres, such as

cotton, as synthetic materials don’t breathe or

allow proper air circulation.

3. Drink tea. Black tea and especially sage tea

contain tannins, which are astringent compounds

that can help keep the skin dry.

4. Fix your diet. If your health is out-of-whack, it's

always good to clean up your diet. Avoid spicy

foods. Some research indicates that iodine-rich

foods can cause excessive sweating as well.

Hello Mrs

I’m not much of a football fan, but everyone in the

office raves about it. My colleagues often try to chat

with me about ‘the match’, but all I can say is “saya

suka tim biru”, before they walk away and whisper to

each other with sneers on their faces. It’s the

champion’s league finalmebob tomorrow and I can’t

afford a TV, what am I going to say on Monday? Do

either team even wear blue?

Dear Borris Beckham

TVs are extortionately expensive in Indonesia. Why

not make your own!

A zoetrope works similar to a TV: if you move many

images through a single spot fast enough, it creates

the illusion of a single, animated image. Unlike a flip

book, though, in which you flip through the pages

quickly, a zoetrope rotates the images, which are

viewed through a slit. All you need is a box of Kraft

Cheese triangles, a marble and a pen.

You could even commentate on the action yourself to

make it even more realistic.

Hello Mrs

As my Bahasa Indonesia is still very rusty, I often find it

difficult to express myself properly. I want to take up

painting so people in the community can understand

what I’m getting at without all these

misunderstandings. I have no paints or brushes

though. Any ideas?

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Dear Soon to lose an ear

I would have recommended communicating with the

local community through dance, but painting would

do the job too I guess. No brushes? No problem! Why

not make your own finger paints!

1. Mix equal amounts of flour and water depending

on the amount of paint you want.

2. Add in some salt. Put more if you used more flour

and water and vice versa. Mix it again.

3. Add loads of food colouring to make your paints

nice and bright.

4. Store the rest of the paint in an airtight container

so you can reuse it.

They’ll be no more cultural misunderstandings in the

kampong ever again!

COOKING ON A CAMP STOVE

By Peter Howson

Fried Bread Sandwich

What you need:

1. Bread

What to do:

1. Fry a delicious slice of roti tawar in an oiled

pan until golden brown,

2. Place 2 slices of bread next to each other, or

one on top of the other, whichever you

prefer, then place the slice of fried bread

between the non-fried bread,

3. If you can afford it, let your imagination go

wild! - Add 3 or 4 of your favourite

condiments; I’ve used brown sauce, tomato

ketchup and mayonnaise, but you can also

use... I can’t think of any others right now, but

there are lots of combinations that might also

be quite nice.

4. Serve on a plate. A saucepan lid will also do

the trick!

Fried bread tastic!