Bunaken Island

Before we got off the boat Frankie told us about MC Cottages and that he would give us a good price if we stayed there.  We told him we had reservations for tonight but we would come check it out later.  We check in at Daniel’s home stay after we negotiated a fairly good price.  Unfortunately this was the same as the Togeans, per person per night.  Again more than we wanted to spend.  While we were sitting on our veranda we noticed a kitten was stuck on the roof of our cottage and it was crying.  We figured it would eventually jump off but no such luck.  The next morning it was up at 5am running around making a lot of ruckus and I wanted to go up there and throw a stone at it and kill it, but I obliviously didn’t.  Not out of compassion (sleep deprivation will lead you to do many bad things in the name of sleep) but because I had no way to get up there and even if I did, I couldn’t guarantee my aim was good enough to hit it.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  While we were sitting on our veranda, we saw George, the guy from the Togean Islands.  He came over and we started chatting about how sick he was on the ferry.  It turned out he was very sick and as soon as he arrived in Manado he went to the hospital.  He had malaria.  For the fourth time.  Not for the fourth time during this trip, in his life, but it’s still a big number.  It turned out he got it at the Togean Islands.  But really he had no one to blame but himself as he walked around only in shorts all day and all night, slept with the door of his hut wide open and didn’t use the mosquito net provided.  He told us they gave him pills which helped right away and he also told us the hospital had an open sewer running right through the middle of it.  He said it was pretty gross.   We were happy he was okay, though. 

Andrew and I went to take a look at the MC Cottages and they were much nicer than the ones we were staying at and cheaper, so we told Frankie we would check in the next day.  MC Cottages has a dive shop on premises but once we went to check it out we knew we wouldn’t be diving with them.  Their equipment is all brand new, so that’s not a problem.  It’s their divemaster that’s the problem.  When I asked him about his certification (what level he’s at) he told me he didn’t have money for that, but that he’s been diving a long time.  I was a little surprised because this was the first time someone had told me they dive and lead groups but they’re not certified or licensed.  Andrew asked him if they have oxygen and he went to show him his air compressor.  Oxygen is usually kept on boats in case someone has a diving accident and needs pure oxygen right away.  An air compressor cannot produce oxygen.  I would have perhaps considered going with him if I knew the area was calm and didn’t have any currents, but Bunaken is known for its currents and I wanted to make sure we were diving with someone reputable.  We did move into MC Cottages the next day but we wouldn’t dive with their dive shop.

That night we had a great dinner at Danie’s home stay with a lot of broccoli and cauliflower, veggies I hadn’t seen in months.  We had a great time talking to George and we swapped contact info as he was leaving the next day.  The next morning, after being woken up by the damn kitten on the roof, we checked out of Daniel’s without even so much as a question as to why we were checking out.  It’s like they didn’t even care.  We were greeted warmly at MC Cottages and given a bungalow with a nice view.  Including us there were only 8 people staying at MC so the atmosphere was very relaxed.  That day we found a dive shop (next door to MC) that was very professionally run, although a little more expensive than the one at MC.  After walking around the island and comparing all the dive shops we decided to go with the one next door as they were very professional.  Bunaken divers is owned by an Ozzy and his Indonesian wife.  His staff is very well trained so we knew we would be in good hands.

That night during dinner we met a girl and her husband.  She is Australian and he’s Indonesian but they live in Darwin and were in Indonesia on vacation.  It was very interesting talking to them because as tourists we experience a lot of racism from the locals (usually in the form of much higher prices.  Everyone assumes because you’re a westerner you have a lot of money) but since they are a multi racial couple they receive a lot of reverse racism.  A lot of hotels have a strict no locals policy, meaning locals can’t stay in the hotels, and a lot of them refused this couple to stay there.  Some hotels would demand to see their marriage certificate while others, if he called and tried to make a reservation by phone speaking Indonesian, would just say they’re fully booked.  So it seems no matter what, you can be subjected to racism.

The next day we went diving with Bunaken Divers, and although it was overall a good experience, during our first dive I experienced a panic attack under water.  This was the first time something like this has happened to me and I can only attribute it to the current we experienced.  Before we went into the water I specifically asked if there was any current and our guide said no.  Okay, we jumped in, had been under for around 10 minutes when the current hit us.  That in itself might have been okay but I felt like the dive guide didn’t really have a plan on how to deal with it.  What’s more, he kept showing me hand gestures I didn’t understand, which made it even more frustrating because he should have done a dive briefing of the signs before we went in the water.  I don’t expect a briefing on the basic signs that you use during every dive, but he kept clapping underwater and I didn’t understand what that meant.  As we got out of the current, he would be swimming and then all of a sudden he would turn around.  I felt like he didn’t have a dive plan at all.  That’s when I started hyperventilating and crying.  I had to physically hold the regulator in my mouth because I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  Andrew was beside me trying to get my attention but I wouldn’t respond to him.   Finally after a few minutes it passed and I was able to continue the dive with no problems but I just wanted to get out.  We talked about it on the boat later on, but our guide never noticed anything was wrong.  After when I asked him what the clapping sound meant, he said it meant I should get closer to the reef.  Right, that made total sense.  The second dive of the day went without any problems.

We had received so many positive reviews about Bunaken that we couldn’t wait to get there.  Mainly about the quality of the diving and snorkeling.  The reality is Bunaken is full of garbage.  In the water and out.  Yes the reefs are healthy, but when you’re diving and on your right you have a wall of beautiful corals and on your left you have a wall (literally) of floating plastic bags, bottles, candy wrappers, chip wrappers, etc., it takes away from that beautiful experience.  They say the garbage flows down from Manado, but the reality is, I don’t care where it comes from.  It’s not only disgusting, it’s disturbing to see the mentality of the people.  They throw evening in the water, and I mean everything.  You can be on a ferry and you throw your garbage into the garbage bin, and then half way through one of the staff members comes along and dumps everything overboard.  If you say anything, they laugh at you.  Out of sight out of mind.  I don’t know what they think happens to all this garbage but a lot of it ends up in Bunaken.  This happens all over Indonesia (the rest of Asia too but we mostly saw it in Indonesia) and if you have ever heard about floating islands of garbage in the middle of the sea, you now know where they come from.  What’s worse for me is that tourists still provide such positive reviews for Bunaken.  Why are we encouraging this?  If tourism doesn’t suffer, no one will do anything about it.  So here is my humble opinion…take it or leave it…don’t visit Bunaken unless you want to swim with garbage.  And lots of it.  There were times when we were getting ready to go into the water for a dive and the driver of the boat had to look for a clean spot for us to jump in.  And no matter how beautiful the reef, all I remember from our experience are the islands of garbage we had to swim with.  Tourism is booming in Bunaken but at what cost. 

That evening we told Frankie we would be checking out the next day and if he could take us to Manado.  He asked us what time we wanted to go and we said around 2pm since we were diving the next day.  He asked if we were diving with his dive shop and we said no, with Bunaken Divers next door.  He was furious.  He said it’s the rule of Bunaken that you dive where you stay.  This wasn’t the first time I had heard about this rule as we had read about it but I thought it was ridiculous and we chose to ignore it.  He said if he would have known he would have kicked us out and told us to stay with the resort associated with Bunaken Divers.  He said the western owners always talk a lot and take his business away and tourists listen to them.  He said if we wanted to dive with someone else he would have called his other friends.  Probably unlicensed friends too.  He was just mad he couldn’t make commission off of us.  Needless to say that killed the mood somewhat but I didn’t care.  There was no way we were going diving with his unprofessional and unlicensed dive guide.

That evening we went over to Bunaken Divers and had a beer with Terry, the owner.  We told him about Frankie’s reaction and about the “rule” and he said the only rule that there should be is that all dive shops are licensed and unfortunately not all are.  He told us there are only 14 licensed dive shops in all of Northern Sulawesi, but there are hundreds of dive shops.  It’s really scary when you think about it.  We went diving the following morning without incident, and we saw turtles that were 150 years old.  They were huge and beautiful.  Again, the wall of garbage was there.  The Indonesian guy married to the Aussie girl came with us this time.  He was scheduled to dive with the dive resort at MC cottages but it was cancelled because they didn’t have a boat driver.  Another reason why not to dive with them.  When we finished our dives, we paid for them, check out of MC Cottages and Frankie took us back to Manado.  He was grumbling again about us not diving with him but we told him he needs to get someone more professional if he wants to maintain his dive shop.  It wasn’t the best way to part ways, but we shook hands with him and left.

Tangkoko National Park

We met a man named George from Belgium on the Togean Islands.  George is in his late 40’s and has been travelling for over 20 years.  He’s an artist in Belgium which gives him a lot of time to travel.  He lived in Indonesia for 2 years at one point so he speaks Bahasa Indonesian pretty fluently.  One of the places he told us about was Tangkoko National Park, about an hour from Manado, the capital of Northern Sulawesi.  We had decided to visit Bunaken Island, which is an hour away from Manado in the opposite direction of Tangkoko, but we figured since we were there we should go see it.  George took the ferry with us from Togean to Gorontalo, which takes 13 hours.  We arrived in Gorontalo at 4am, but George wasn’t looking too great.  Unfortunately with all the chaos that usually ensues when we you get off a boat or a bus with the locals fighting to get your business to take you somewhere, we were separated from George.

At first we, along with another couple, tried negotiating a deal with the driver of a car to take us all the way to Manado, but his price was too much so we opted for an ojek (a motorcycle with 2 seats and a roof attached out front) to take us to the public bus station.  At the bus station we were able to get a bus to Manado right away.  That bus ride took another 9 hours.  Once we arrived in Manado, we decided since we had been travelling 22 hours already, we might as well go all the way.  We took a bemo to another bus station, that bus took us to a town called Bitung.  Once we arrived there, we had to negotiate hard for another Bemo to take us to town (everyone wanted $15!), where we could get a ride on the back of a pick-up truck to the Tangkoko National Park for $1.  After 29 hours of non-stop travelling, 8 different modes of transportation, we finally arrived in Tangkoko.

We found a guest house to stay at but told them we didn’t want to go on any tours the following day because we were just too tired.  We just wanted to sleep in.  That was the plan, but unfortunately the children playing right outside our room at 6am didn’t allow us the luxury of sleep.  I finally understood the meaning of torture by sleep deprivation.  I was so tired that I was literally crying to Andrew.  We were both so tired and frustrated but unfortunately that’s Asia.  Any privacy or quite is a luxury and unless you’re willing to pay big bucks, you’re not getting it.  We spent the day hanging around and reading and that evening we hired a guide to take us on a tour into the jungle to see the Tarsiers.

Our guide’s name was Bobby and he has been a guide for 20 years so he knew a lot.  He was able to point out different birds to us, even when we hadn’t spotted them yet, he had heard them from far away.  The Tarsiers we were going to see are a kind of monkey, but a tiny monkey.  They are literally the size of my palm.  They kind of look like Yoda from Star Wars.  They live in big trees but are nocturnal creatures and only come out at night, that’s why the tour is in the evening.  The tree we visited had a family of about 6 – 8 of them living in it; at least that we could see.  Their hands are similar to that of a frog.  They are quite interesting little creatures.  We started heading back and Bobby received a call on his cell phone that a couple of tourists had shown up at the park office without their guide, and had he seen the guide.  He said no and the hunt began.  A couple of motorcycles went looking for the guide.  They found him at the end of the road leading into the jungle in his car.  Apparently he had made arrangements with the tourists to meet them there but his car was so well hidden they couldn’t find it so they went back to the park office.  Since he had to drive back to pick them up, he gave us a lift.  On the way back to the guest house Bobby promised he would show us a tarantula.  And he wasn’t kidding.  As we were walking along the path, he told us to turn our lights off, and then pointed his at a tree.  At about shoulder height, there was a hole in the tree and out of it was sticking out a large tarantula.  It was disgusting…at least to me.  Andrew was very intrigued by it of course and took a lot of photos.  I was just grossed out.  I guess it was kind of cool to see one in the wild but I wouldn’t want to come across one by myself.  Bobby walked us back to our guest house and we made arrangements for the following morning at 5am to go for a 5-6 hour hike into the jungle to see more animals.

The next day Bobby picked us up and we went on our hike.  The hike lasted around 6 hours, and although we got to see quite a few interesting animals, the spotting were spotty (pardon the pun) and most of the time we spent looking for them.  The animals we were able to see were the Kus Kus (only from faraway) and the best we could tell it was a smaller version of a brown raccoon mixed with a fox and a monkey and it lives in trees.  We saw 2 small owls up close, but the highlight would have to be the Hornbill.  This is quite a large bird and it looks like tucan sam from the cereal commercials, except that its beak is yellow and he has a big red bump at the top of his head.  When he flies and flaps his wings, it sounds like a helicopter is flying over you.  We were able to see him while he was bringing food to the female and the baby in his nest.  He sat and fed them for a good 10 minutes.  Although we weren’t that close, we still had a good view and I’m happy we were able to see him.  Another highlight were the Macaque monkeys.  They’re black monkeys that live in groups of 80 or more.  Bobby took us to the beach where they like to hang out, and once we walked a little into the jungle, Andrew and I were able to be alone with a group of 50 or so of them alone.  It was amazing watching them be together and grooming themselves.  They were very relaxed and if we didn’t make any sudden movements, our presence didn’t seem to bother them.

After the trek we went back to our guest house, showered, ate lunch and went to see if we could catch a pick-up truck to Bitung.  It turned out since it was Sunday, almost everyone took the day off to go to church.  Northern Sulawesi is mainly Christian and even the smallest store is closed on Sundays.  We met a police officer who was taking his girlfiend back to Manado and he offered to drive us.  We agreed and it was a really pleasant ride back.  He didn’t speak English but his wife did so she did all the talking with us.  It turns out for the past 6 months there has been a BBC crew filming a documentary on the Tarsiers and he has been assigned to be their security.  His girlfriend studies accounting in Manado, but she comes over to help him communicate with them.  They were a really nice couple and drove us around Manado to show us where we had to go to catch a boat to Bunaken and where our hotel was.  We were glad there are still people that don’t treat you like a walking wallet.

We had trouble finding a hotel mostly because they were either full or the hotel was really dirty.  The one we settled on was reasonable priced and reasonably clean.  The catch was it didn’t have any fan or A/C.  We thought we would tough it out.  Our main goal in Manado was to get our laundry done, but when Andrew went to inquire about the prices, it turned out they were closed.  Because it was Sunday.  The first thing we went to do was eat at McDonald’s.  For 2 weeks straight we had been eating rice and fish and we needed something “normal”.  After that we bummed around the city for a while and found a mall with a supermarket.  We went on a small shopping spree, since we hadn’t  been able to purchase toothpaste (and have been squeezing what we could out of what we had left in our tube) or deodorant in a while.  In the mall they had displays of new Hondas and Nissans so we went to look at them.  It was great fun, pretending we were going to buy a car.  None of the sales people bothered us however because they didn’t speak English.  After we left the mall, we were walking on the street and saw a sign in front of a hotel for reasonably priced coffee.  We decided to stop in and it turned out to be a very nice hotel.  It even had wi-fi.  At first they didn’t want to give us the password as they said it was for guests of the hotel only, but Andrew told them we are guests of their restaurant and they agreed.  That is how we came to kill 4 or 5 hours in this nice hotel.  We surfed the net, drank good coffee at a reasonable price, called our friends and family and used their very nice washrooms.  This is the only time I loved being a tourist.  No one questions why you’re sitting in the lobby of a hotel for 5 hours when you’ve only spent a $1 on coffee.

The next morning Andrew went to look for a boat to take us to Bunaken, while I took a shower.  Except that I didn’t because as soon as Andrew walked out the door and I tried to take one, I learned the shower doesn’t work.  I was really angry!  We hadn’t bothered to check the night before if it worked with the assumption that it did and that we would shower the next morning.  It’s another thing we have learned to check before committing to a hotel room.  So I sat for an hour and a half waiting for Andrew to come back.  And when he did he was drenched with sweat as it was very hot outside.  He had found where we needed to go and also looked into doing laundry.  They wanted $17 a kilo!  We decided to continue wearing dirty clothes.  There wasn’t much to do but get breakfast and go.  A public boat is supposed to leave around 2pm and it costs 25,000 Rupiah per person (roughly $2.50) but we met a local guy, Frankie, who lives on Bunaken and was going back and he agreed to takes us there for the same price on his boat.  Usually the private boats want at least $15-$20 to take you one way.  This was a good deal and we took him up on it.  Pulling into Bunaken, Frankie showed us the corals through his glass bottom boat and they were stunning.  Then he dropped us off in front of Daniel’s home stay.

Togean Islands, Kadidir Island

Tommy dropped us off on the island and Teteng showed us the available rooms.  We chose one of the free standing bungalows.  Included in the price was free tea and coffee and 3 meals a day.  At 150,000 Rupiah per person (roughly $16 per person per night) this was a lot more than we had paid up until now and a lot more than we had anticipated.  Unfortunately Lestari is the cheapest option on the island, as the other 2 resorts cost much more.  Lestari is a family run resort, although it’s hard to apply the term resort to Lestari.  The family lives there all year round, and they’re the ones who cook for you and help you with anything you need.  It’s a loose version of a homestay.  There’s Mama, Aka (the father), Puddin (the oldest son), Teteng (oldest daughter), 1 more son but never got his name but Andrew called him Rock and Roller because they both shared a passion for rock musick, and Anna (the youngest daughter).  Tommy is Mama’s cousin but he works for them by driving the boat and with general labour.  The resort is very basic with shared outdoor bathrooms.  It wasn’t much, but this was the place we would finally get to relax.

It’s hard to write about the time we spent there in chronological order, as there were many days where we didn’t do much except eat, read, swim and sleep.  We went diving a couple of times with the dive resort next door, with the highlight being the B-24 Bomber which was in perfect condition.  Other than that we spent the time hanging out, chatting with the family or just relaxing.   One day about 8 of us went on a snorkeling trip with Tommy to an island about an hour away.  Karina beach is a stunning beach on an uninhabited island.  Unfortunately since no one lives there, no one picks up the garbage that’s washed ashore either.  One of the reasons we went there was because somewhere nearby you are supposed to see jellyfish.  I wasn’t sure why anyone would be so keen on going there to see the jellyfish but to each his own I guess.  The 4 British guys were very excited about this.  You can’t see the jellyfish from Karina beach, you have to snorkel to a cove, climb over some mangroves and apparently you can spot them at the lagoon there.  The British guys went to check out the jellyfish while Andrew and I snorkeled around the beach along with 4 or 5 of the other people.  After an hour and a half we decided it was time to leave and the British guys came back.  They were very excited and they said they saw them!  Some of the others said they wanted to see them too so Tommy said he would take us to a different part.  We all piled in the boat and he took us to the other side of the island where there is a large inlet surrounded by mangroves.  We were all looking into the murky water but couldn’t see anything.  The water here was very murky and almost green, and nowhere close to the crystal clear water we had been snorkeling in just a few minutes before.  Some people asked Tommy if we could jump in, and in the typical Indonesian response he said “Up to you”.  I didn’t see any reason to jump into the water, especially if it had jellyfish so I stayed on board with a few other people.  Others, along with Andrew jumped in.  Right away Andrew called out to me the water is so murky you can’t see your hand infront of you.  A thought crept in to my head that if this was Florida or Australia, there would be gators or crocs for sure.  The 5 or 6 snorkeling were really getting into it by swimming in an out of the mangroves.  Tommy started the boat and swam a little upstream to the exit and threw down the anchor.  The water a little clearer here as it was close to the open sea.  After 20 minutes or so of this everyone climbed back in and we went back to Lestari.  Andrew and I chatted on the way back, again about if this was anywhere else there would have been crocs there for sure.  It looked like croc territory.  A few nights later, while sitting with Tommy and drinking Arak (a “palm wine” which smells and tastes like paint thinner) I asked Tommy “You know when we went snorkeling at Karina beach and you took us to see the jelly fish?”  He said he remembered.  I asked “Were there crocs there?”  His reply was directed at Andrew “Yes.  When you jump in, I scared.  If you problem I dead” Andrew’s eyes almost popped out of his head.  His laugh was of a person who was in danger but didn’t know it at the time and the realization was hitting him now.  It turns out, there were crocs there.  And there are crocs around Wakai, the village where the ferry drops you off.  Tommy lives there and he told us every year around 2 people get bitten.  Usually fisherman cleaning their catch.  He tried to make us feel better by telling us when they find the crocs they kill them so now not so many.  Andrew kept, almost, yelling at him “Why did you let us jump in?”  Tommy’s reply was the same as before “Up to you”.  This is something you learn quickly.  The locals will never say no to a tourist.  If you’re asking if it’s possible to do something, they will always either say yes, or up to you.  Tommy again tried to make Andrew feel better by telling him he had only ever seen 2 small crocs there.  He showed us with his hands, around 2 meters.  We breathed a sigh of relief.  But then he added “And 7 meters long.”  Again I thought Andrew’s eyes were going to pop out of his head.  So the crocs were small.  2 meters wide and 7 meters long.  Tommy told us that’s why he took the boat and started swimming upstream.  He was looking for the crocs, but he didn’t see them so he thought it was okay.  It’s funny for us to think and laugh about it now, but it could have been so easy for one of them to attack one of the snorkelers.  Luckily no one was hurt, but it did teach us to ask a lot more questions in the future and follow our gut instinct.  If it looks like there may be crocs there, there probably are.

Aka, the father and owner of Lestari, makes beautiful jewelry by hand.  He makes a beautiful necklace by setting a small shell in ebony wood and polishing both until they’re perfectly smooth.  He made one for me and Andrew and he refused payment.  To thank him we bought him a couple of Bintangs.  The next day he made me a bracelet from a shell.  Again he refused payment.  This was something that really touched us.  Tommy later explain to us this they don’t want money because they are giving the gift to their friends, and we pay them, we are no longer their friends, we are their customers.  And they want to keep us as friends.  This is why we loved it at Lestari so much.  Of course the family is running a business, but they treat you like part of the family or at least like friends.  You don’t feel that you’re just one of the tourists.  And every night they shared their Arak with us without any expectations of payment, except for our company.  I was exhausted after our grilling journey to get to the Togean Islands and usually fell asleep early, but Andrew spent many nights sitting with Tommy and Aka just talking and drinking Arak.

I did feel, from an ethical standpoint, that accepting these gifts would mean I was contributing to the use of local shells for tourist souvenirs.  I can only make myself feel better by acknowledging that yes, this is wrong, but Aka will continue to make these souvenirs even if I don’t take it.  And he doesn’t do it for a mass market or to sell them, but to give to his friends.  Also, I never purchase any souvenirs that use shells or other forms of animals or resources that may or may not be endangered, so I know I don’t contribute to their extinction.  It is unfortunate that other people don’t see it that way.  Aka is a local, and he uses these resources as he sees fit.  And I can explain to him what I think and why it’s wrong, but all he would get from that conversation was that I don’t like his gift.  What’s more troublesome is the tourists who come and collect handfuls of shells.  And I don’t mean small shells that you find on the beach.  I’m talking about divers who dive, and bring up very large shells, or clams and then dry them out and take them home.  I think that it is much more destructive than the necklace I now wear that I received from my friend Aka as a gift.

While we were on the island the end of Ramadan was approaching, which meant big parties.  Tommy was going back to Wakai for a few days to see his family but he invited us to come over one night for a party at his parent’s house.    It was mentioned during a casual conversation and we agreed to come, but being stuck in our western way, we didn’t think too much of it.  It seemed like just a casual invitation.  I mentioned it to Andrew the next day but we were supposed to go diving the following morning but we wouldn’t be able to make the party and go diving the following morning sober.  Unfortunately we got sick and couldn’t go diving, so we decided to take the ferry north to Gorontalo that day and make our way over to Bunaken Island.  Everyone we had met that had been there said the island and the diving was much better than Togeans.  So even though it wasn’t part of the original plan, we decided to go.  Since Tommy had the day off, someone else drove us to the ferry terminal.  We said goodbye to Aka and his family and thanked them for their hospitality.  On the way to the ferry I reflected how quickly the time had passed.  We had been there for 7 days but they flew by as if it had been 2 or 3.  It turned out the ferry was delayed by 2 hours so we sat on the dock waiting.  While waiting we saw Tommy walking and he came over to join us.  He asked why we hadn’t come to the party.  Right away I felt terrible.  We explained about the diving and about us getting sick but our excuses felt weak, even to me.  I could tell he was disappointed and the language barrier didn’t allow me to properly express our regret.  Tommy sat chatting with us until the ferry arrived and then helped us to secure seats in the “business section” again.  We told him, if we were travelling back South to Makassar by ferry (via the Togeans) and not bus, we would stop on the islands again.  He said he would be waiting.

The boat left after another hour of loading and unloading people, and we left with a warm and fuzzy feeling in our stomachs mixed with a bit of regret.  I now wish we would have gone to see Tommy at his parents’ house.  I felt honored to have been invited, and I feel like we missed an opportunity to get to know him and his family better.  But I was glad we were able to get to know him just a little bit.  Too often when we’re travelling we meet a lot of people but we don’t really get to know them or we don’t take the time to get to know them.  We were lucky, because for the first time we weren’t treated like tourists but as friends.