Manado, North Sulawesi

Yes, I’ve not even finished updating my travel logs on the USA and I’m now here in Manado, a city in the northern finger of the Indonesian island of Sulawesi.

Home to just over half a million people, of whom 70% are Christians, I saw many pretty churches along the way. The town feels cleaner than Bali, and I never expected to say this: I feel safe. I don’t feel leered at or that everyone is looking to make a quick buck from me. It could be because tourism accounts for very little of this island’s economy. Fishing and agriculture is still it’s main business.

Manado is home to Bunaken National Park. I’m not a diver, but supposedly this marine park is a big deal. My cousin has dived here four times already and can’t get enough of the place.

We are staying in simple accommodation which is fine for those who just want to get out there and dive and then crash back in the room. Food is provided by the “resort” for all meals.

First thing out of the airport, we head to Saroja for the famous Nasi Kuning.

The rice is placed on a fan-shaped palm leaf and wrapped up. No rubber band needed.

This is a yellow rice dish with mutton and potatoes, a boiled egg and chilli. The mutton is a dry type and it was like eating pork floss with rice. Only it was mutton. The mutton is on the sweet side with spicy chilli. It was simple and delicious!

And that was basically the highlght of the first day. By the time we arrived at the place we are to stay for 6 days, it was storming. And I mean storming. Waves were crashing into the dining hall. We had to huddle in the back kitchen to eat our Nasi Kuning.

Considering this is all volcanic seismically unstable land, we started thinking about all the tsunamis that have happened not too long ago. At night, during dinner, the rain had abated to a driving drizzle. Still then, waves were crashing in. They were at least 3 meters high. And loud.

I didn’t take a photo of dinner. It was a simple meal. But the food was so fresh. The grilled fish was excellent as was the stir fried vegetable. They also have this interesting cincalok chilli.

I was told the next day that Manado people love chilli. If it isn’t hot enough and their sweat pores are not pouring, no matter how good the food actually is, it’s still not good enough.

The next day, while half the group went diving, we headed inland toward the highlands of Tomohon.

This is a rather inaccurate map of the route we took.

We saw Christ Blessing on the peak of this land developed by CitraLand. It is said that the developer of this land was struck by cancer. After he started believing in God and built this statue, his cancer went into remission.

Those houses are millions of dollars and the larger ones around the area (not pictured) cost billions of dollars.

On the way we passed loads of coconut trees and clove trees. Manado is famous for cloves and they export it to Jakarta to put into cigarettes.

There were a lot of fruit stalls along the way and they all like to stack their fruits in a pyramid.

There is an abundance of bamboo in the area and it is used for making baskets, furniture, and even in construction for support beams.

The broom handles are made of bamboo, if you notice. The coconut fibre makes up the soft brush, while the hard main stem of the dried coconut leaf goes to make the sapulidli.

When visiting these small towns, you are reminded just how much everything is used up. There is little wastage of the resources available.

All resources… For, among the usual beans, dried fish and fruit, at the markets of Tomohon, we saw…

And also, man’s best friend isn’t so valued here.

The guide told me that only old and sickly dogs are harvested. But really, looking at the cage of dogs waiting to be slaughtered, I couldn’t tell if they were sickly looking because of the way they were kept or because they were sickly when caught. I find it hard to believe that they’re caught for food because they are old and sickly.

The market was brutal. There was a lot of blood everywhere. The floor was black and encrusted with dried blood of animals killed and bought and sold for years.

We made our way to the fresh water Lake Tondano where we had the freshest tilapia I’ve ever tasted. And we visited a pagoda, sampled durian, rambutan and duku…

But nothing could take my mind off what I’d seen in the market. But what suprised me the most was me. That I wasn’t shocked or taken aback by this. I didn’t feel the injustice that animal activitists feel. It is just the way it is.