Sun Bears and Orangutans

We arrived at Balikpapan, Borneo, a bustling city of 750,000 inhabitants, and often voted as one of the most beloved cities in Indonesia. It has a high number of ex-patriots, and is known for its nightlife, which is, ironically, minus any alcohol in this part of the world.

We had no opportunity to spend time in the city because we were scheduled for a long tour to Samboja Lestari Rainforest and the Borneo Orangutan Survival Foundation, a survival facility founded in 1991, and the Kawasan Wisata Pendidikan Lingkungan Hidup, otherwise known as the Sun Bear Center. The drive was long. The small bus with narrow seats honked its way through the big city and into the countryside of shady trees and lush foliage. After an hour it turned onto a gravel-and-dirt road that would put any tires to the test. For fifteen minutes we jostled along until we came to a point in the road where even smaller vehicles waited. The pot-holed road was too rough for busses. 

After fifteen more bumpy minutes, we stopped and got out in a large forest, with a moat of reedy, fresh water dividing it. Across the moat a few young orangutans came to watch us, as we watched them. On the other side of the road, we saw a beautiful adult male with a long shaggy copper coat that had been in the circus. He walked upright, with his arms raised in a “don’t shoot” gesture. Very bright, he seemed to tease the onlookers by putting peas in his mouth and smiling so that it looked as if he had green teeth. And he showed us objects that he’d collected. A female nearby had been traumatized by her captors and was very shy. Another nodded her head constantly. These orangutans would stay in the center for life because of their previous, negative interactions with humans. Other younger ones would be rehabilitated and returned to the wild.

The vehicles then drove us to the Sun Bear Center a few miles away. Sun bears are the world’s smallest bear species, and they’re endemic to Borneo. The center is dedicated to saving rescued bears and educating the public about the importance of preserving Borneo’s flora and fauna. The 40 bears seemed content in their four-acre forest environment that included metal ‘houses’ that allowed an escape from the rain. These bears would not be returned to the wild. They seemed very sweet, and eager to interact with us. Many of us wanted to pet them, but the bears’ very long claws hinted that they could do some very real damage if they wanted to and we were told not to touch them. 

We sailed east crossed the Makassar Strait some 310 miles to Parepare on the island of Sulawesi, which, at one time, consisted of multiple islands with many different soil types.  It’s a mountainous area and nomadic people still live in the forests. At this point, we’d crossed into the Southern Hemisphere, and the water depth fell from shallow to over 5000 feet—a shift that demarks “The Wallace Line,” a finite border between the species of Asia and the species of Australia.  Bali is Asian in its species, and Lombok, across the Lombok Strait, is Australian.

Alfred Russell Wallace spent eight years in Indonesia, collected beetles, and wrote a book about his discoveries in the region—birds, leopards, orangutans. He visited Sumatra, Java, and Bali where tigers and elephants roamed freely. He also went to Nusa Tenggara where he found quite different animals—komodo dragons, and birds like the honeyeater. He traveled to Lusawesi to see macaques, tarsees, kuscous (marsupials), and Halmahera and found a new species of butterfly, the Golden Birdwing, and a new species of Bird of Paradise. In New Guinea he found cassowaries, and another bird of paradise—a bird hunted for its plumes. Borneo has fifty-nine endemic species, and Sulawesi over a hundred.

Wallace believed that the two islands were once connected by land shelves—bridges of woodland and savanna.  Animals could easily cross from one to the other when the sea level was lower. This bio-geographic region is still called Wallacia. Because the animals changed once the regions separated, the plants did too.  Long-tailed macaques were important seed dispersers, but the plants on the other side of the ‘line’ adapted to entice different dispersers. Likewise, animals adapted to become a separate species. The sail-fin lizard, also found in Sulawesi, became vegetarian, surviving only on fruits and vegetable matter. A flying lizard, birds like red knobbed hornbills, serpent eagles, several species of king fishers, the satanic nightjar that camouflages itself at night and sleeps on the ground, are all well known, although maleos are scarce because they’ve been hunted. When the eggs, which are buried in volcanic soil, hatch, the baby birds scramble to the surface. Various snakes, dwarf buffalo, frogs, bats, stick insects, jumping spiders, pitcher plants, and all sorts of things exist in Sulawesi. It’s a lively place.

Komodo Dragons

Komodo Dragons—about 3000 in number—inhabit four grassy, tree-filled islands—Padar, Rinca, Gili Motang, and Komodo—that make up the National Park with UNESCO World Heritage status in Indonesia.  These giant lizards—the largest in the world—can reach eleven feet long and weigh two hundred pounds. Like monitor lizards, they have an excellent sense of smell. A forked tongue determines if the smell is coming from the right or left thanks to an organ in the roof of its mouth. A Komodo lies in wait for its prey—maybe a buffalo, monkey, or deer—bites it on the foot or ankle, and then follows the animal as it slowly dies from the anticoagulants in two glands in the lower jaw. Komodos are carnivorous cannibals—quick to eat young dragons if they’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. Luckily, the young ones can climb trees.

Visitors can only see dragons in the company of a park ranger, which was fine with me. Almost immediately, we came across a baby dragon as it marched across the grass. The babies are about the same size as a monitor lizard, its smaller cousin. In fact, it’s hard to tell them apart. Our walk continued along a woodsy path through the forest where several dragons were in residence, including an adult female that chased and caught a young one as we watched. When on a hunt, they move fast. We also discovered little macaque monkeys in the forest—prey for the dragons—and guinea fowl. The experience was worth dealing with the oppressive humidity.

Life and Death

As a hospice volunteer I learned that the dying have a way of teaching us about life -- about patience, gratitude, appreciating little things, understanding what matters.  Death is so personal -- something we do alone -- and to be invited to share in the transition is a gift of love and a profoundly humbling experience.

Lucky Timing

This story began when my husband bounded up the stairs one morning and said, "Houston, we have a problem."  We needed our passports for our GOES interviews (to obtain passes that speed up the process at airports for international travel, and also at security).  And our passports were with the outfit handling our visas for Brazil.  We got on the phone, and thanks to extreme good luck, our visas were back from the Brazilian embassy and in the hands of the visa service company in San Francisco.   All we had to do was leave in enough time to drive into the city and pick up our passports before our GOES interviews at San Francisco Airport.

When we got into the city, the traffic on King Street was backed up for miles and we soon realized that a Giants game had just let out. Our route went right past the stadium and the street was blocked off.  The minutes ticked by as we sat in stalled traffic going nowhere.  Finally, after about 25 minutes, we were able to make a left turn and get around the mess.  My husband stayed with the car while I ran into the building on Montgomery, took the elevator to the 7th floor, got our visas and passports (saving them the mailing fee), and was out the door in two minutes. Getting onto the freeway again took a bit of fuss, as usual, but we both heaved a sigh of relief, realizing that we would make it to the airport on time. In fact, we were early and they were running behind. So we had about a 45 minute wait. The interviews went well, and we decided to celebrate at a restaurant we like in Redwood Shores called Mistral. 

We called the restaurant from the road to see if we needed a reservation. We were told they were packed and we couldn't get a reservation until 7:45, which would've meant a wait time of an hour.  So, we considered other possibilities as we drove. Finally, I said, "Let's call back and tell them we'll take the 7:45 reservation."  We looked at the number again and realized it was an 818 area code.  We'd called a different Mistral in Hollywood, hundreds of miles away. Although the Mistral in Redwood Shores was also very busy, they had room for us and we had a great meal. Had we made a reservation at the Hollywood Mistral, much confusion would have ensued. So, our day turned into a lucky one all the way around.