A Bus Ride to Remember

As I left Bukittinggi I boarded a bus at around 6pm. It’s an old and often traveled bus route that has only gotten more popular since airline prices within Indonesia increased slightly (according to the host at my hotel). It is a 15 or 16 hour bus ride from Bukittinggi to Parapat in Northern Sumatra. Technically it goes all the way to Medan but foreigners never take it that far. This bus ride was an experience all its own, but not a very pleasant one. Travelers here often complain about it as it’s nowhere near the level of comfort that has come to be expected by Westerners in their home countries taking transport like this. In the following description I don’t intend to complain for those reasons – I have certainly experienced less than familiar transport situation – but it has burned so specifically in my mind I figured it begged sharing.

For starters, the seats are too small. The entire time my knees pressed up against the back of the seat in front of me, and the man on my left consistently used me as a pillow during any sort of dozing off. The next oddity was a man with an extremely large goiter; nearly the size of his head itself. He was with his mother and father who lovingly cared for him the entire trip, but the man wasn’t helpless or quiet or reserved as that might imply. In fact quite the opposite! He frequently made noisy outbursts that filled the entire bus of 28 people. It took me a long time to decide whether he was actually using words or not; I’m not an expert in Indonesian by any means but I’ve picked up a fair few words in the month I have been here. At no point, regardless of the fact that his mother happily engaged him as though she could understand, did I hear anything from his mouth that resembled Indonesian. If I am to be entirely blunt he sounded much like a Wookie. In no way do I intend to make fun of this man! I understand his medical condition most likely caused this affliction and he is unable to control that, but honestly, I couldn’t help make the comparison during the trip and I feel it might paint a less insulting picture of him if I simply let you imagine this association than if I try to describe the sounds with words themselves.

So after the trip began the man began watching videos on his phone – loudly. I’m sure the whole bus could hear his phone. Every ten seconds or so he would let out a kind of cadenced moan and begin laughing to himself. The sound reached from the front of the bus to the back, and we were sat roughly in the middle. In front of him was the only other foreigner besides myself, and after about four minutes he quickly fumbled his earplugs into place with an obvious sense of desperation. For another ten minutes the video, moan, then laughter continued. His mother, who was next to him, often shushed him and tried to explain he was being too loud in the most tender and affectionate way I have ever seen; each pleading attempt was met with more laughter before the cycle repeated. After 15 minutes of this the bus driver turned on his radio to try and drown out the sounds from the man. My god was the music loud. My entire body shook at the first cranking of the music and I had to focus to orient my ears; still, the man continued his pattern, and the bus’ radio did very little to drown him out. This continued for at least an hour before the man seemed to fall asleep, along with a hefty handful of the other passengers.

But did I sleep? Oh no. If you’ve never been to Indonesia you might not know about the roads. Imagine the worst paved road you’ve ever driven on in the West. Think of the potholes and cracks. Imagine these problems were never fixed and one day you went out with a sledgehammer and roughed the road up a bit more hoping it would get the government to finally fix it. Then imagine the entire neighborhood did the same and still the government did not come. Long stretches of road in Indonesia are like the final product you are thinking of in your mind right now. Not all, but many. You would think any sensible driver would go slowly over these kinds of roads but in Indonesia you would be wrong. Our driver flew down these highways at speeds that constantly gave me a sense of unavoidable impending doom while I bumped up and down in my seat, or jostled back and forth. What’s more, it was in the mountains where you’re forced up and down various slopes that many times curve more than a right angle. How anyone slept is a mystery I will never uncover.

And when I say “highway,” I don’t mean the kind many of you are thinking of. Here in Indonesia I have often looked at Google Maps to try and get a sense of location or direction and I have more than once been perplexed by seeing my little blue dot on a yellow outline of road that indicates Highway. But if you saw it in person you would be likely to not know it was the highway. These roads are often as skinny as the thin ones you find in very old cities. They hold two cars, for sure, but many times only just. I can still recall several moments when the bus would come screeching to a halt and outside my window the side of the bus would be less than a foot away from a large truck, once or twice at half that distance. We never crashed or collided, mind you, so kudos to the driver. But the trip left my heart racing on more than one occasion.

Beyond that, the bathroom was a mess (according to my foreigner companion, I made a point of never going near it), we only stopped twice to stretch our legs, and the front of the bus gave off a noise every couple of minutes that you might expect from a 20th century steam boiler letting out pressure. Overall though, I have had worse experiences. At no point did I seriously believe I was going to die but I was anything but calm during the experience. I was glad I went through it! It was, after all, preferable to driving back to Padang and flying to Medan before driving down to Parapat from there. Though if I were given the option again in the future, honestly, I think I would go by plane.

Again, however, it was entirely worth it. After the horrendous bus trip I found myself at my ultimate location. I was exactly where I finally wanted to be. The best part of The Journey so far was finally about to begin.