I noticed it almost immediately, even exclaiming to Turtle my surprise: all the children of Indonesia were beautiful. Everywhere I looked: wide eyes, black hair, silky skin and shy smiles. I may not really be the want-to-be-a-mom type but something about the kids we kept seeing really tugged at my heart strings. And then, because I had noticed that, I began to notice that everywhere we went in Indonesia — it was the faces, and the people behind them, that told the real stories.
Of the hardship of spending every day slugging tourists up and down a mountain:
Of a positive attitude in the face of complete reliance on those same tourists for a living wage:
Of long days of manual labor that require supreme concentration:
Of passion for a cause not everyone always understands [please check out OFI for Fred’s story]:
Of shyness and resignation:
Of grace and musicality:
Of duty and honor:
One of my favorite stories about people to come out of our time in Indonesia isn’t even mine. Michael’s post about the people in the kitchen of Gudeg Yu Djum is terrific and it’s made all the more special because even though I wasn’t able to share that experience, I feel as if I was there due to his photographs and words.
I would be ashamed to close a post about faces without mentioning the dear one of our fixer from the trip: Boelle. Perhaps none of our conveniences or enjoyed experiences would have occurred without all he did behind the scenes to help us, and all the sleep he lost.This post is number three in a series about my time on the islands of Indonesia [with the group of travelers pictured below, thanks to Runaway Juno]. Check out post number one here and number two here. Though my time in the country was provided by Indonesia Tourism, all opinions and views are solely my own.