Bapak Tarakan

When I was posted to Tarakan, never had I heard of this name in Indonesia before. But a Google on the web, I noted that Tarakan to be a significant name for Word War 2 history. It all started here. So, how on earth a small island like this can garner so much attention from the Japanese invasion?

The Japanese wanted Tarakan for two reasons: a rich oil field and as a strategic air base from which further attacks can be launched. Nowadays, it is still obvious to see them here when most of expats who flew with me on the same flight are Japanese and Dutch. I guess most of them work for oil based company that are stationed here. If not, I really don't see why someone will be attracted to here.

When it comes to Indonesia, people will just mention the name like Bali, Bandung, Jakarta or Medan. Tarakan? You just dumbstruck one people's conversation. It is so remote that I even had to make 3 transit flights in order to get there. If you think LCCT2 is a market, wait till you hop on the flights in Indonesia! You might elevate LCCT2 back to Tesco hypermarket status.

Though Tarakan is just another city like Terengganu or Kelantan, you still find some familiar faces back home. Like CIMB. Wow. Just imagine I can pay my Direct Access credit card or bank in my check here. KFC? Well, tried that. The menu and set are just not comparable to those back home.Furthermore, they don't serve bread but instead plain white rice.

I was staying in the only 5 stars hotel in town. Swiss-Belhotel Tarakan. The place has nothing to shout about. Just that I'll have FOC morning call from the morning prayers. Ironically, my stay here was not so lonely. I was actually staying with a group of Malaysian primary students who were having the 12th Asean Age Group Chess Championship in the town. With all those thick glasses student accompanied by their respective coaches and teachers, it reminiscend my day as chess player for my school. The difference nowadays is I do more check-in to hotel and flight rather than check-mate your opponent.

After some hectic night work, I had my ups and downs there. For the first time, I was sent into hospital  overseas. I had to be given jab to treat my allergic to an unknown insect bites. Even worse, I encountered a flattened dead cobra in the middle of the runway. Just imagine that, in full darkness, out of the sudden it was just 2 meter besides you. I knew of a movie called Snakes On A Plane starring Samuel Jackson. I guessed there might be someone up there threatened to follow the act from the movie too in Indonesia.

All these while, I never felt so proud of my work until I came here. The only time, I got journalists so close to me was when I boarded the fully-chartered flight for my friend's wedding. This time, I even had a group of journalists taking photos and interviewing us. Felt like a Justin Beiber doing an engineering job. Last but not least, the fried fish I had there was probably the best seafood meal I ever had. I had it for every meal. Lunch and dinner for 3 consecutive days! Just fried fish, rice, and some raw vegetables that were eaten with fresh sambal (chili paste). The Japanese must had left their fishy cuisine here though it must had been Indonesianised now.

I even tried their Nasi Padang there. The waiter in the restaurant immediately served the dishes directly to our table. Within seconds, our table was quickly set with dozens of small dishes filled with highly-flavoured foods such as beef rendang, curried fish, stewed greens, chili eggplant, curried beef liver, tripes, intestines, or foot tendons, fried beef lung, fried chicken, and of course, sambal. We took and paid for only what we had taken from this array of dishes. It is just like eating mixed rice just that this mixed rice is much more variety and expensive.

The people there was very polite. I found it so funny that I was called Bapak whenever a person greeted me. I think my most memorable moment during this trip was my immigration clearance in Jakarta. The conversation below was translated from Bahasa Indonesia.

Immigration officer: What you doing here?

Me: Business meeting.

Immigration officer: ... (stared at me and then my passport).

Me: ...(I smiled while my attention turned to the weird hand print sign on the counter-top which I never encountered any in other airports before)

Immigration officer: Hand (He said in a stern tone. I quickly divert back my attention to him)

Me: Huh!?!!!?? What?!? (I was confused by his instruction)

Immigration officer: Hand!! (He voiced in a louder tone this time)

Me: OK. (I raised both my hands up thinking that he is checking whether I'm in a sober stage or not)

Immigration officer: ON THE SCANNER!!!!!!

Shoot!!!