TRAVELS IN SAMBAS
Well a wedding is one thing, but discovering a little piece of Indonesia that rarely sees foreigners is a whole other exciting kettle of fish.
I recently travelled to Sambas with my husband and two of my sons, to share in the Valentine’s Day wedding celebrations of my middle son.
What a day that was! It will stay in my memories forever. But it wasn’t just one special day – it was five days of cultural immersion. (This is going to be very long so gird your loins – I don’t want to forget the experience!)
We left Hobart at 4:30am on a Friday morning and arrived in Sambas Saturday afternoon – after flying via Singapore for a night at the airport hotel and a quick flight to Kuching. Then a two hour taxi ride to Biawak and Aruk on the Indonesian-Malaysian border to go through immigration. Land border crossings are never much fun. It was a long 36 hours.
Our driver, Liew, insisted on taking us to a little local food court in Kuching where we were instructed to eat the Laksa for breakfast. It was spectacularly delicious and the best laksa we’ve had anywhere. A wonderful welcome to Malaysia.
The drive immediately reminded us we were in South East Asia. Road rules are fluid, motorcyclists are everywhere and overtaking is a constant affair right down the centreline of the road.
We got to Biawak without incident where Liew tried to explain we needed to go to the Malaysian immigration area to have our passports stamped and he would meet us on the other side of the barrier with all our luggage.
We queued and hoped for the best.
Our photographs and fingerprints were taken for the third time in 24 hours then Liew was standing on the other side waiting with our luggage. He spent five minutes trying to explain that a second van was going to drive us the one kilometre to the Indonesian immigration centre and that we need to pay 20 Malaysian ringgit for the transfer. Initially we assumed we’d be walking it like everyone else but with the language barriers our luggage was being piled into the doorless van so we had no option but to squish in and join it. They drove us the kilometre and I handed over the money. Then we had to queue for customs at Indonesia and fill out all the forms.
We had all done our visas before arriving thank goodness. Nevertheless, we were in the line about 20 minutes trying to explain why we were coming to Indonesia, where we were staying and how long we’d be there. They asked for evidence of our hotel stay but all I had was a screenshot of a WhatsApp conversation my daughter-in-law had between her and the hotel. In the end that was enough. They eventually waved us through one at a time. We ran our luggage through yet another security check then looked up to see my daughter-in-law’s brother standing there waiting for us with another taxi driver. I was so relieved.
We piled all the luggage into the back then the six of us squished into the seats with no seatbelts and we began the two hour ride to Sambas. There is a clear difference between the Malaysian roads and the Indonesian – there were a lot more potholes now.
We passed acre after after of palm oil plantation, dotted with the occasional coconut and banana trees. Small unpainted wooden houses appeared consistently along the sides of the roads and the riverbanks as we drove through. Plenty of dogs resting on the side of the road. The occasional mosque. As we drove through little townships dozens of Islamic school students would appear on their motorcycles and push bikes, heading home for the afternoon.
We were weaving our way through a sea of children on motorcycles. It all passed smoothly.
Eventually we crossed a large bridge over a long muddy river, stilt houses stretching out into the water with wooden boats nearby. The streets filled up with taller buildings and more lanes. Little shops selling fruit and motorcycles and clothing appeared. Before long we did a big u turn and pulled into the Hotel Pantura Jaya – our home for the next five nights.
We were welcomed like celebrities. Our luggage was wheeled to our two VVIP rooms and then we were left alone to unpack. My son and his wife-to-be appeared with my granddaughter in tow. I finally had all three of my boys together. Time for happy snaps.
The hotel had a grand staircase in the foyer and our VVIP rooms were very spacious. There were burgundy sheets on the beds with big burgundy bolsters behind the pillows, little white slippers, a prayer mat, lots of space, pink and white wicker chairs and toilets with no toilet paper but a conveniently placed hose. We even had a fridge for keeping things cool and bottled water to drink.
After we’d unpacked we got to meet my daughter-in-law’s family. It was wonderful to meet them despite the language barriers.
We two mothers finally had all three of our children together and I think we could recognise how special the occasion was.
As we were sitting chatting, a great thunderstorm rolled in and a few seconds later there was a loud bang as the power went out. My son just laughed and said it happened all the time. We got out our phones to light up the room while we were deciding what to do.
It was after lunchtime and we travellers were pretty hungry. After about 15 minutes of torrential rain and two power outages that quickly restored we decided to walk in the drizzle to the cafe next door to get some lunch. It was a very western looking cafe and not the cheapest place in town but it was comfy with air conditioning and we were all happy to be together. Eight staff members stood around the register with excited looks on their faces. We ordered our nasi gorengs and mie gorengs and some coffees. The coffee arrived made with sweetened condensed milk so that was a bit of a surprise. We got used to it – it’s surprisingly good.
After lunch I went with my eldest son for a walk up the street, hoping to find an atm for cash as the town appears to be cash only. There were none to be found but plenty of people who waved and stared at the two tall white people walking down the street. There are no footpaths and the roads have large puddles everywhere, so our number one priority was to walk the streets without being run down by a motorcyclist.
Time runs differently in Sambas – especially with a young couple with a baby.
It was pretty late by the time we all met up again at the outdoor restaurant and sat cross legged on the wooden floor around the large low wooden table. We were also pretty hungry again. We had all of both families there – 15 of us in total. It was a pretty special evening. My daughter-in-law ordered a whole pile of different dishes to come out for all of us. And especially for me she kept insisting to the waitress, tidak pedas– no spicy!
A huge bowl of steaming rice appeared and then the dishes started coming out. Indonesians seemed to enjoy their food – there was no end to it. We’d been given peanuts and peanut crackers to nibble on before it arrived then prawns and noodles and beef and curry and chicken satay and cucumber and all sorts of things just appeared one after the other. It was all delicious – fresh and tasty and just for me, tidak pedas.
By 9pm my eldest son was falling asleep at the table so we made our farewells and went back to the hotel. Our first day in Sambas all done.
Early the next morning we were picked up in another taxi and spent the day heading to Singkawang. We stopped in a small town at a bank and withdrew cash – insider knowledge of ATMs coming in very handy. The streets were busy and crowded with motorcycles. Houses squished up next to all the businesses together. Rubbish lining the streets. At regular intervals, mosques and Chinese temples would appear. While Indonesia is 90 per cent Muslim, the area we were staying had a large Chinese influence and only 70 per cent of the population worshipped Islam. The rest being Taoist or Catholic.
Our next stop was a Chinese temple. 2023 is Year of the Rabbit so statues and paintings of fluffy bunnies were in abundance. It was Sunday and the temple had two classes of young Indonesian students sitting cross legged on the floor learning Mandarin. They all stared out at the tall white foreigners they’d never seen before. We climbed to the top and went into the temple areas. A giant drum boomed out and then a gong was played, before incense was lit and prayers were offered. The views were of Chinese lanterns hanging from the tall tropical trees with the minarets from the mosque standing tall in the distance. The stilt houses on the muddy river below filled with people going about their daily business.
After the temple we drove another half hour through all the little townships to a Chinese market for lunch.
Enormous tables were spread out under a covered area with the takeaway shops all lined up behind. A small number of wares were on offer including handmade goods and local fruit. The durian always looks curious.
My daughter-in-law ordered lunch for everyone and again we had an amazing array of foods. I was particularly fond of the deep fried banana with chocolate and cheese.
We then walked across to the Chinese temple that was much bigger than the first one, my boys all being mobbed for photographs along the way. We crossed the little bridge and found a display of statues commemorating the 1970s television show, Monkey. More photographs of us were taken.
We got back into our two air conditioned taxis and made our way to the township of Singkawang where we visited a tourist destination called Batu Belimbing – a giant rock in a pond with a lovely mountain backdrop and a small carnival atmosphere. We were swamped by people wanting selfies.
The three boys went out on the paddle boats with my daughter-in-law’s brother. My two oldest boys far too tall for the little pedals. The loud speaker made announcements in Indonesian but the only words we heard were “Australia” and “Tasmania”. We were swamped by more people wanting photographs.
On the return to Sambas we stopped at a very cheesy and worn out park that we thought were botanical gardens but did in fact turn out to be world miniatures – a little Eiffel Tower, leaning tower of Pisa, the Titanic etc. It was terribly run down and not the best $1 we have ever spent but the nice man running it was insistent on getting a photo of us in every corner. We stopped for a last coffee in the Hong Kong district of Singkawang then started heading back.
On the long ride home we passed two Islamic wedding celebrations in full flow – streams of motorcycles lining the streets and guests milling about dancing and socialising. Big weddings seem very popular in Indonesia. A huge gathering of family and community.
It was a long day and a cultural immersion.
On Monday the bride-and-groom-to-be were busy with preparations so we had a quiet day exploring Sambas. We didn’t know how to order any kind of ride so we walked into the main part of town. In the high humidity everything seems a long way away. We were waved down by more well wishers wanting photos and eventually found our way into the town centre where I wandered down to the riverbank to see the local stilt houses.
Being used to a dry cool climate, we weren’t coping particularly well with the humidity so made our way back to the hotel to rest for the remainder of the day. Waving to local school kids practicing their English as we went, “Where are you from?!”
We went out for more rice and noodles for dinner then had an early night in preparation for the big day ahead.
The wedding went spectacularly well and much celebration was had by all. Many more rice and noodles consumed. But by then we felt we’d explore all of Sambas so decided to head back to Kuching a day early and explore the Malaysian capital of Sarawak, Kuching. So Wednesday we did the two taxi rides in reverse with the same drivers, paid another doorless van to move our luggage one kilometre between immigration checkpoints and got our fingerprints and photos taken yet again.
Kuching turns out to be a really lovely little city and we were staying by the waterfront in a rather lovely hotel. We wandered over the bridge, visited a mosque (where the robes we were given made us look like Jedi knights) and walked through a market where a local guy called out to my husband, “Hello white man!” I guess we were still considered a novelty.
And that my friend, sums up our travels in Sambas. From Kuching our next adventure was to begin – Kota Kinabalu.
