Indonesia (Again): Beyond Bali (page 4)

Marj's Note: Indonesia is towering volcanoes, sandy beaches, tropical waters, and floral aromas, but what makes it even more special is the upbeat, welcoming people. Herewith, to close, some of Mike's people pictures not seen on the previous pages.

I'm being served coffee, tea and treats inside a house built in 1345/ The large fireplace on the left is used for larger celebrations, being usurped by the more modern propane method of heating food.

A town elder and owner-operator of the traditional house in Flores, Indonesia, solid as a rock that wooden behemoth

Modest beachwear doesn't prevent the locals from enjoying the sand and water on a lazy Indonesian beach.

A woman utilizing her territory to maximum effect as all her wares are within easy reach at the local market.

The Indonesian version of the Ice Cream Man is making his evening rounds. He is serving up noodles with fish balls and his special broth, ladeled from deep within the smaller opening. He let me take a whiff and it was goooood. He is charging 10,000 Rupia per bowl (about 80 cents), and business is brisk. Quite the genius opportunist, that guy, saving the local moms all that work.

Our crew of pirates didn't speak much English, but they bounced around the boat and the water like a bunch of seasoned vets, and they cooked some killer meals from their tiny, rudimentary galley. They spent our first night fishing so we would have some great eats the next day. Level: Expert. Those guys rock!

The Indonesian version of a water cooler, the local characters shooting the breeze at the corner store.

There's a large market, steps from where I’m staying in Moni, and locals from kilometers away arrive to hawk their fruits, veggies, nuts, fish, chilis, beets, roots potato things; you get the idea. It's a hardscrabble life for many who live in the mountains of Flores, and their determination is seen in many forms.

I love village markets like this; they're the antithesis of the sterile, American grocery store. These have the sounds, smells and colors you find when you leave the hermetically sealed world of sanitation and food safety paranoia. They’re also fun because they have everything from batteries to goat milk cheese for sale. Crates of live chickens. Dried fish. Fresh fish. Salted fish. Kinda pungent fish.

Why buy a new pair when you can get your old one fixed? And I sure could have used this shoe-repair guy when mine left me draggin'. Business is brisk.

Indonesian Family Truckster. In Indonesia, you have to stop thinking like an American. They do things differently here, and therefore our judgement is more a reflection upon us than upon them. They are a powerhouse nation of 250 million people. I think they can find their own way, in their own time. They wonder why we drive trucks when we aren't farmers.

A small local market in the seaside town of Labuan Bajo, filled with some delicious ingredients and a good explanation of why there aren't any fast-food chains contaminating the island of Flores. None needed.

My friends Brian and Sandy are excellent ambassadors of American goodwill, and these kids were happy to say hello on their walk home from school. "Where are you from?" they all shout. "My name is Joe," one of them continues. What'cha say Joe!

Even the sling-shot bandits are enjoying a buddy moment overlooking the Spider Rice field, called Lodok Cara by the locals. And these kids were locals. Scarey accurate locals with the slingshot.

The captain of our ship and leader of his band of pirates enjoys a moment of peace, watching a sunset on the magical seas.

The End