Motorcycle Girls

 

I'm on a beachy island in Indonesia for the week--we have a few days before work really starts and took the chance to have a vacation. It's raining now, and that doesn't spoil a thing--it's as peaceful and beautiful here in the rain as it is sunny. The above is my view, along with the kids playing in the pool, and I'm going to take a nap by the beach after lunch, maybe after reading a book or two. 

 

Tanah Merah ferry terminal, as we pull away. 

We left Singapore yesterday morning by ferry, and it took us about three hours total to get here. We took the ferry to Bintan, drove across the island, then took another boat to the island where we are now, which is small enough, we hear, to kayak around in less than an hour. The whole trip was ridiculously picturesque; crystal skies, emerald water, islands everywhere. 

Super picturesque--it's got a boat in it. 

 

We were all excited for our inaugural trip to Indonesia--if it's cool enough for Obama to be here at the same time, we must be choosing well (Hi, B!).

As a person who gets pretty spectacularly motion sick, I was highly skeptical of our boat-car-boat itinerary, but my time-tested regimen of Dramamine and lots of ginger candy actually allowed me to enjoy the trip. 

 

Though maybe these seahorses (?) are a motion-sickness cure. Or the sweet strains of The Eagles' Greatest Hits on repeat. I'll have to look into both. 

Our route across Bintan was a winding, two-lane road. We passed a few towns, and though most of what we saw seemed quite rural, traffic was pretty steady both ways. There were a good number of cars, but the bulk of traffic was motorcycles; I don't know what to call them, but they were the little zippy ones, not scooters, but not big Harleys either.  In many cases, there was more than person on each cycle: couples, brothers, moms with babies strapped to their chest, and whole families. 

 

Can you see the FOUR people on this bike?

I felt weird about taking tourist pictures from a car of people just doing their everyday stuff, so I didn't get didn't get a picture of my favorite moto people. I saw so many cool and poised ladies on motorcycles in brightly-colored, immaculate kebaya (what the Internet  tells me is the proper name for the long tunics Indonesian ladies wear over coordinating trousers).  Some women even rode side-saddle, ankles crossed, maybe one hand holding a husband's hip, maybe just perched on the rumble seat without a handhold at all, looking like she didn't have a thought to spare for the precariousness of her position. 

They shared an untouchable quality with the women I saw on cycles in Rome years ago--there, they wear impossibly short skirts and even more impossibly high heels, and between their cigarettes, their tossed heads, and what I assumed were their snappy rejoinders, their effortless cool distilled Roman nightlife for me. The dress and surroundings of the women on Bintan were immensely different, but that same effortless cool was there and I think will stay with me in the same way. 

It's taken me until lunch to write this, fingertapping on my phone, distracted by peacefulness and play, so I'm off!