Sara and Lee . com

Where were we? Oh yes, at the glorious, awesome equator, tourist trap extrordinaire. No sooner had our feet touched the ground (still in the southern hemisphere) than we were mobbed by no fewer than 4 tshirt vendors. They heeded our polite requests for space (nanti, nanti aja! = later, later!) and we took in the splendour that was the equator. It was hard not to notice the shocking difference between the hemispheres or at least it should have been. We knew in our hearts that the northern hemisphere is much more sophisticated and wealthy, while the southern hemisphere is drowning in savages and poverty. Unfortunately this wasn’t totally evident from our vantage point, even when straddling the fading white painted equator line, but perhaps it was just hidden by the constant drizzle and light fog.

After experimenting with different ways to stand on and around the equator, we decided to visit the equator monument itself, an impressive epcot-esque metal orb obviously meant to evoke images of the earth itself. This was evident not only from the shape (ball!) but also from the rust and dilapidated condition (pollution!). When we nervously crossed the rusting bridge to enter the sphere, we found that it was in fact empty on the inside, save for some rusted, twisted metal pieces that had once formed a staircase to the bottom (the earth has no soul!). After a few documentary photos, we decided to run for our lives before the ball collapsed generously leave the monument so that other visitors could enter and take in the glory.

Next we headed for the under-construction Bonjol museum, located inside the equator complex. None of us had the slightest idea who Bonjol was (turns out he is the important man on the important 5000 rupiah bill here) but the museum had a huge towering statue in front, plus it itself was a whopping two stories tall, plus it had a roof and it was raining, plus the entrance fare was 10 cents. The museum was, we were guessing, avant garde, or whatever it is you call a place that is close to empty (featuring lots of floor space!). Highlights included a story about Bonjol and the 5000 Rupiah bill, and well-labelled relics such as various old rifles, an old dutch hat (safari hat) and an old tube (a native English speaker might choose the word binoculars instead) used by the Dutch. Strangely absent were any references to the equator and its sordid history.

When we emerged from the museum, it was finally time to face the tshirt vendors. We entered heated bargaining with them regarding shirt prices. It seemed that shirts could be all different sorts of prices, depending on quality, but none could be as cheap as tshirts in Yogya. Despite our most valiant efforts, we could not get the prices down to $2 or less per shirt, so we sacrificed and went without. I still tear up just thinking of it. Luckily, salvation came in the form of another souvenir, an even _better_ one, as it will not ever need to have fabric softener used on it. A S-T-I-C-K-E-R! But not just any sticker, a huge circular sticker, as big as my (or maybe Lee’s) head! It was dirty and tattered, but the largest sticker to be had, and the only one of its kind, so we took it.

At this point, we decided that as we were in the middle of the jungle, and as it was getting towards night, we should probably think about catching a bus home. First, though, Lee and I decided to share a special snack with our fortunate friends. When we came to Indonesia, we brought not one but TWO king-sized pina colada almond joy bars. One was sacrificed to ants (sort of a peace offering, though at the time we viewed it as an obscene declaration of war), but the other, mushed and oozing coconut everywhere, was our triumphantly celebratory equatorial snack. Unfortunately, it could only last for so long, maybe half an hour, even including the time needed to lick the melted part off of the wrapper. So why weren’t there any buses yet? (to be continued)