Transcription

• Speaker #0

  After an epic journey to reach the heart of Sulawesi, I finally arrive in Sankong, and that's where I will meet some truly exceptional people. Enjoy the episode. Keep^your wings, le podcast. Chapter 6: Straight to the heart. Cigarette dangling from his lips. Messy hair, bare feet on the wooden floor, Wayan sits on a raised platform. As usual, he doesn't really know what to do with himself, so he hangs out with his friend to play cards. Laughter bursts out every now and then, but boredom keeps creeping in day after day. It's tough when there's nothing to fill your days. Yet, Wayan prays every day for something to shake up his routine. A job will be ideal. Unemployment is a plague. Though the number had been dropping since 2008, 10 years later it just started climbing up again. Then, Suddenly, something catches his eye. A man walking down the street. He is different. His skin much lighter. Could he be a tourist? Ryan taps on one of his friends on the shoulder and points at the stranger. He shouts, catching his attention. Eye contact. All it takes now is a few hand gestures, inviting the stranger to come over. That's more or less how I met Ryan and his gang of friends. At first, their faces were closed, unreadable. Then, something softened. A spark lit up in their eyes. I was the guy who came to break their routine. to pull them out of their daily boredom born from unemployment. Their English was pretty rough, but Google Translate bridged the gap and allowed us to have a real conversation. Their first question caught me out of guard.

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  What are you doing here? Are you married?

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  Are you looking for a wife in Sengkang?

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  I just want to meet people, explore, discover Indonesia.

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  You want to see traditional houses?

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  One of them asked. Oh yeah, sure.

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  Hop on behind me,

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  said Wayan, starting up his scooter. I did a stall and off we went. A good half hour ride with Wayan and his crew. Just like that. Without a second thought, without fear, I was ready to dive into the unknown. Once there, they show me every hidden corner of those houses. The carvings on the ceiling, the traditional symbol, explaining their meaning, all thanks to my phone's translator. Without it, I'd never be able to connect with them so deeply. It was a genuine moment of sharing. The five of us were outside of our daily lives. Meeting the other, the foreigner, can be unsettling. But in this case, it was pure joy. We chat about everything and nothing, using gestures, sound, and miming to make ourselves understood. People around were surprised to see a bule freely walking among them. Yet, everyone was friendly. I was amused to see people coming up to my friend, pointing at me.

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  They want to take a photo with you.

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  Why not lean in to explain? Hmph, I smile and agree without hesitation. It's still a bit strange being the reason for a snapshot, but since my time in Taiwan, I've stopped seeing it as something negative. And the rest of the day kept bringing little surprises like that. We hit the road again, my new friend now suggesting a visit to a more remote village. I imagine some wild tribe living in the jungle but Of course, that wasn't the case. Some clichés still cling to me, even after months of travel. It was simply a community living outside the town centre, rarely mingling with the crowd. The road was bumpy as hell. I'd bounce around on the motorbike seat, my back sore, joint aching, praying for a stop. My wish came true a few minutes later as we pulled over in a dusty street scattered with gravel and big stones. A woman sitting on a wooden balcony waved at us and began speaking to my friends in Bahasa Indonesia.

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  She wants to invite you in for coffee or tea.

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  Wayan explained. Oh, that's wonderful. How kind of her, I reply. We all step inside, under the curious gaze of three kids. Shafira, the lady of the house, lived there with her mother and three children. Her face radiated kindness, and her smile lit up the room. She made me sit on the floor and asked my friend to do the same. Her home, also wooden and built on stilts, had a central room where we would gather. Shafira and her mother brought us cookies, cups, candies, and other Indonesian sweets. We took turns between Google Translate, my friend and our host, exchanging stories about our lives. Why I came to Sulawesi, my photo on Indonesia, and how mutual help seemed to be fading from today's society. I have to admit, Indonesian hospitality is truly heartfelt. Once you step away from the tourist zone, interactions change completely. They're no longer driven by money. I didn't feel in debt or expect to pay for that moment. It was born from pure shared curiosity. I wasn't sightseeing, I was discovering the town at my own pace, through the eyes of locals. No landscape could have compared to what I experienced right then. Before leaving, Shapira insisted on taking a photo with her family.

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  We will show it to all our friends,

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  she told Wayan proudly.

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  Now, we have a new friend from outside Indonesia,

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  she said with joy. I thanked her sincerely before we rode back to our Senkeng. Once there, Wayan invited me to hang out again that evening. I happily agreed, promising to bring snacks and drinks. Of course, since my new friend were all Muslim, alcohol was off the table. Sodas and chips it will be. After a quick shower and a plate of Mee Goreng, fried noodles, at my hotel, I went to meet them again at the same spot as that morning. We sat on a little wooden platform, the kind you see everywhere by roadside and city corners. That night,

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  like every night,

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  they played cards. A game I didn't know at all. None of them could really explain the rules, so I tried to guess and failed miserably. To make matters worse, the deck was sticky, impossible to shuffle without making everyone burst off laughing. One of them even decided to go live on Facebook to show all of his friends how terrible I was. Heh, little bastard. Later, Wyant took me to meet his family. It was a bit awkward, I mostly had cookie and drank coffee while everyone watched me with polite smile, but they seemed genuinely happy that I was hanging out with their son, nephew or cousin. They even tried to offer me cigarettes, which I politely declined. After 20 minutes or so, we left to rejoin the others. It was nearly midnight, the night was ending.

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  Go to the hot springs tomorrow?

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  Wayan asked. Oh yeah, shit, that sounds great.

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  See you at 10 then.

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  Deal. That day had no clear purpose. No plan. Yet, it turned out to be full of surprise and laughter. With a light heart and a smile on my face, I fell asleep realizing how lucky I was to keep meeting such symbolic souls along the road.