September 6, 2026 – Oh, Sumatra!

I am still excited about our day in Sumatra yesterday.  The cow races were absolutely the most thrilling event I’ve seen since stock car races!  Farmers, instead of downhome boys in raggedy stock cars, compete against neighbor farmers in the dirtiest game on earth!  They each have a pit crew and a pair of cows attached by wooden bows to a crossbar where the farmer holds on to dear life.  Actually, the farmer grasps each cow’s tail as reins, then the pit crew slaps the cows, and away they go, spewing a rooster tail of mud behind them.  It is fast!  Very fast!  When the bulls run near the sidelines, the onlookers get in the action too, racing backwards to avoid the splash.  We had a driver, a guide, and a photographer/tour company owner that day.  We all got separated.  The guides went one way, Stan another way, and I went another.  No one could get lost; the grounds did not cover a big area in the rice fields.  We each sought out our best viewing position.    Because Stan and I look so light-colored compared to the Sumatrans, we stand out, one, because we are easily recognized as light-skinned foreigners,  and two, because we are old.  They call us bules; it is not a derogatory name.  Bules are Caucasians, characterized by our blue or green eyes and long noses. Their eyes are brown, and they claim to have flat noses.    In my area, people at the races made way so that I (the lady bule) could see right up front. I whooped and hollered.  I left coated in mud splatters, but boy, did I love it!   Then my new friends asked to take a photo with me and asked me my age.  We were surprised that almost everyone asks us our age.  When I ask why they ask, they say their people are old and lazy at age 60.  They no longer work; they cannot walk very long, much less climb and carry.  They easily see that we are over sixty, but their mouths fall open when we tell them I am 79 and Stan is 77. 

At one point at the races, a man approached me and asked if I would have a conversation with his student who was studying English.  Of course, I agreed.  He was a teacher.  Soon, his whole high school class surrounded me.  We talked and held hands.  Every one of us was excited for the moment.  Not only did the students get to practice English with an American, but we each got to make a cross-globe connection with another nice person in this wide world.  We made happy photos together.

The cow races were, for certain, the icing on the Sumatra cake, but the cake itself was amazing.  The orangutans, the jungle trek, the dark 4 am hike on Mt. Sibayak to see the sunrise, and Lake Toba.  But no, it was not over yet.  We did another hike.  We thought we were done with hikes that nearly 80-year-olds have no business doing, but yep, we did another.

We wanted to see the Rafflesia flower.  It is the largest flower in the world, and it is found only in the rainforests of Southeast Asia.  The parasitic flower is huge; some are as big as 40 inches across.  Some smell like rotting flesh.  The one we found did not.  Its red color and foul odor attract insects, not to be eaten by the flower, but for pollination.  The flower lasts only one week, but the bloom can occur randomly throughout the year.  To find the flower, we hiked through rice field levees, then through a thick grassy marshland (I kept a watch out for an anaconda), and then we literally pulled ourselves uphill through the jungle for 1.5 miles on muddy, slippery, sometimes watery trails that had to be waded.  The temperature was hot.  I usually cannot be called one who readily perspires, but I had sweat dripping off my nose.  Stan was soaking wet from sweat.  Our guide Eual gave me his hand on the really tough climbs and water crossings, but Stan conquered the trail solo.

What a relief to finally find that flower!!

I kept thinking, if our daughters knew the seemingly brainless things we do for fun, for exploration, for accomplishment, I can almost hear our younger one, Cody, saying sharply, “MOTHER!”

This is the end of our time in Sumatra.  For all you adventurous people out there, Sumatra is a destination like nothing, anywhere else.  Have we loved it?  Yes, we have.