Under the Durian Tree

When a friendly young man wanting to exercise his English struck up a conversation with us, the topic was somehow steered to durian (smells like an obsession, eh?). We learned that everyone agrees the most delicious durian is from Parongil, a nearby village. We got excited, feeling we'd caught the the stinky sweet scent of adventure, and decided to investigate. We packed up our bags and headed for the bus station.

Sidikalang- City of durian?

In Medan we asked every durian hawker we came across “Where are these durians from?” Without fail they replied, “Sidikalang!” A man explained to me that in villages like Sidikalang everyone has a durian tree. There are durian trees all along the roadsides and many people sell durian in their front yards.  It sounded picturesque and relaxing. So after our somewhat disappointing trip to Bukit Lawang, we decided to get down to business and head to the source.

Bukit Lawang: How Can I get Your Money?

 

The palm oil man we met at Ucok’s durian stand suggested that durian was in season in Bukit Lawang. I read on the tourist map that it is near the Leuser Gunung National Park, and is the place to go to see orangutans and do some jungle trekking.

Orangutans AND durian? Yes please!

Medan, Indonesia: Down the Rabbit Hole We Go!

Kicking off our glorious Year of the Durian in Indonesia has been perfect. Not in the sense that it is has been paradisaical, but rather that, like our beloved durian, the experience has been both rough and sweet. When I walked out of the Medan airport I missed Kuala Lumpur immediately. Although it is tropical, the city gives the impression of a desert. Of course it is hot as hell, but the desert is in the details: a blanket of dust at the curb, brown and grey buildings, and few signs of life.

That is what I thought at first, but Medan is definitely alive. It is a bustling, vibrant city. There are avenues lined with restaurant carts, sugar cane juicers, and rickshaw drivers who seem sure you need a ride somewhere. In the beginning I pointed two fingers down and made the motion of walking to ward off their enthusiasm. Now I say, jalan jalan, which means walking. I love speaking the few words of Indonesian I've picked up. Using their language makes my life easier, and it really cracks up the locals. They turn to their friends and repeat my pronunciation and laugh as a group. I think it is mostly good natured, so I don't mind. I am a funny sounding foreigner. Plus, I think there is also another aspect of it with more heart – I think they just enjoy the foreigner, one of the white guys they see on TV, using their words.