Edge of the world

Wake up to the waves lapping outside my window. Walk out onto the balcony and the view of the Banda Sea. Below three little naked boys splash in the shallows. From this perch I sipped coffee all morning and wrote in this journal I'm transcribing now.

I feel great this morning. Well rested and clear of mind. Whats more, I can finally hear again out of my left ear and my infection is clearing up with the help of some local antibiotics.

Before lunch came I went with Lari and Coen to explore the ruins of an old Dutch Fort on the island. Walking under its shadowy tunnels and ramparts all that remained in the inside was an overgrown field of weeds with a single cow staked down that regarded us with suspicion. Taking shelter from the heat in the small cave-like passageway huge spiders and whip scorpions clung to the stone walls and old pottery shards litter the dirt floor. The old stones themselves whisper to try to imagine the past. What was life like back here then? Were the people happy, sad, oppressed, free? I imagine the locals got a raw deal as they did throughout the colonial world. I can see Dutch soldiers in this dark cubby hole back then sitting on chairs and gambling, traders passing through the fort, and great sailing vessels docked off shore...

Later in the afternoon we returned to the magic nutmeg gardens of yesterday. This time families were harvesting the nutmegs. Split open beside the trail piles of yellow, apricot size nutmeg fruits litter the ground. The crimson mace wrapped nutmeg seed gleams from the fruits cut center. Rattan bags and old sacks were filled up with this crimson gold. We took some photos of the nutmegs and left as the family was laying down rugs for the afternoon call to prayer.

On the white sands of the beach the sun beat down over my shade tree and I read The Malay Archipelago. There on that beach in the far side of Muluku I finished the very last piece of Wallace?s own journal account here 150 years ago. I am more amazed, inspired, and awed by that man than ever before being all the way out here myself. It makes me appreciate what he had to go through and what he came to discover even more. I am both excited and anxious for my own journey still ahead. Whenever this happens though I try to think how easy I have it compared to Wallace and it puts me in my place.

As sand fleas and red ants crawl over me in the sand I'm again confounded by the life poring from the seams all around me here. Not just life either, but unusual life in so many forms. On land, under the sea, even hopping around on the beach. Before the sunset Stevie and Guenther arrived to join us. They brought a tent and are just camping out here. I am envious, though things are so cheap here I'm happy to just stay at our guesthouse and looking forward to a home cooked meal.

We lingered for another epic sunset and then walked back through the nutmeg gardens by head lamp accompanied by night sounds. "Selamat selam" we said wherever we went through the village, "good evening", all the way to our door. The dinner was delicious - a whole snapper with homemade sambal sauce and rice.

I stargazed on the balcony after that with a cup of tea and watched distant thunderheads illuminate the clouds far out at sea.