The adjective 'loud' cannot accurately describe the assault on the ears that is perpetrated by the enormous sound systems and huge blocks of speakers that each and every town uses to blare out ghastly tunes at inappropriate times. Generally the speakers belong to the mosques, and are used for the regular 'call to prayer', that starts as an alarm clock at 4:30am every day. While there is considerable religious significance to calling the prayer, to the untrained ear it sounds somewhat akin to a drunken yobbo slurring loudly into a karaoke microphone after having three teeth knocked out by a bouncer - the perfect alarm clock! For various (and regular) ceremonies the thunderously powerful mosque speakers continue after the call to prayer, to belt out a constant stream of 'music' at deafening volume and for hours on end.
At one point, our last camp on Flores before arriving in Larantuka, we snuck into a quiet and secluded beach about 1km away from the closest town for what we had hoped would be a restful sleep after a very long paddling day. As if to thwart our intentions however, shortly after we crawled into the tent, around about sunset, the music began. When I say 'music', imagine taking the most annoying pre-programmed beats from an old Casio keyboard (eg. the 'Samba' or the 'Waltz') and mixing them into hard-core techno, with some wailing voices in the background, or badly remixed snippets of crappy popular songs - Britney, Bieber and some J-Lo are the standards. This deafening disco continued in an unbroken stream, barely filtered by the surrounding mangroves, ALL night at top volume. We were already eating breakfast at 4:30am when the call to prayer finally put a stop to the din. Ah, the serenity.
To get around many towns the best value transportation is in a 'bemo'. These heavily panel beaten minivans, with uncomfortable 'troop-cartrier' style bench seats in the back are always driven by cool young guys who proudly attempt to blare out music that is no longer measured in decibels, but rather on the Richter scale! Inevitably, when we 'Buleh' (foreigners) board their dangerous, box-shaped, overcrowded missiles, the music is turned up to maximum, perhaps in an attempt to impress these two weary travellers. We are never impressed.
The peace and quiet of the most serene landscape can be broken at all hours by bad house music from any number of mobile phones. Busses should only be boarded by passengers wearing earplugs (I'm not kidding) and if there is a wedding in town be prepared to put up with the cacophony for at least three days on end.
I am sure that any music that is not to your own taste can grate on the ears, especially when played loud. When it is impossible to avoid such an intrusion it is hard not to get annoyed. But then, to find the roads less travelled and to experience the 'real' Indonesia is part of the reason we are here. If everything here was like it was back home there would be no reason to travel, and no new experiences to have. So, Indonesia, we can't hear you - turn it up!
Picture: Juz 'enjoying' the thumping tunes in the back of a pimped up Bemo.
Hi guys. How's alor? Seen your mula-mula yet?? We're happy to report that instead of going to Singapore yesterday (the flight was at 6 so obviously we had to rearrange), we've moved into an old hippie place here in ubud and are now living with a German artist and Mexican yoga teacher. We just moved in today and are pretty excited about the set up. Come over for lunch or dinner if you have time when you're back in Bali. Warning: you will have to play for your supper. We want to learn that second game!
ReplyDeleteHere are our names in case you want to add us on Facebook: Tiana Leeds and Vincent Christophe.