I have been crisscrossing the Equator here in the last couple weeks. Yes, literally passing back and forth the zero-degree line, the middle earth. By the way, I started to get more accustomed to the travel terrain here, the vast landscape of Kalimantan Indonesia. The tropic heat, the cool breezes, the dirt-roads, the jumpy and broken inter-province roads, mountains, forests, fields, blue and white cloudy skies, street warung foods, bugs, squat toilets, and many more excitibles that one would hate and then love. All composed into a beautiful song of mind… still playing on.A slice of that experience was a few days ago when crossing the Telen River, a branch rivers that feeds into the mighty Mahakam. Obviously, there was no bridge connection yet so we had to park our car and then took a (sort-of) boat taxi to cross the Telen. Unlike other parts of remote areas in Kalimantan, there were more native Dayaks on the riverside here. Not so many people around but everybody was looking at everybody, just imagine the small town scenes in the wild-west film right before the protagonist riding in on a horse. A little eerie for a self-professed Jakartan like me but still ook-lah.
Our boat came and I jumped in immediately. The boat was quite low on the water level and I was just sitting so liberally stretching my arms and legs feeling like an MTV travel channel host until… Until I remembered the many crocodiles with their big smiles that populate the rivers here. I, instantaneously, in approximately one-over-a-thousand second, reworked my sitting position and be in a little less machoistic pose. Yeah, crocs are just the scariest animal to me.
The return trip was more memorable to me because it was after dark. We came to the riverside with a windowless jeep transport along dusty roads. While waiting for our boat to come, I looked up the clean cloudless sky and could see all the stars quite clearly. We got on the boat and I sat nicely (this time) and as close as possible in the middle. The moon light was shining so bright, maybe because of the dark surrounding. It was during that time that I encountered a new kind of aesthetic unlike anything I knew before. The moon light was reflected off the river and casting an even dark gray uplight on all objects. Everything is a profile, a silvery outline. It is surprising to me how much one can see in total darkness. The faces of the people on our small boat were dark-blue-ish or gray with long shadow under the eyes. The air was cool and fresh. I felt like there was only me (with a very loud boat motor) and a vast and black idyllic quietness beyond. I link this to the many interesting “river-ee” moments I have: walking along the Scioto in downtown Columbus on a snowy night, observing the busy Rhein on a cold spring day, Soane under the flickering Eiffel Tower at night, and zipping through the Venetian canals at night on water taxi.