Lost

Have you ever driven around a foreign country without the luxury of a native speaker, a map, or any idea of exactly where you were headed?

Last night, Mona, her sister, said sister's husband, and I did just that. We spent the day visiting Borobudur, then on to Yogyakarta for some shopping at Malioboro to encourage the economy of a town hit by the recent 6.2+ earthquake. After a great day of seeing, spending, and scarfing, we decided to take an alternate route home. Mona and I had previoiusly traveled several roads home from Yogya and wanted to venture out to find a shortcut for ourselves. Armed with a digital compass/watch and our wits, we veered from the normal course and flow of traffic into the abyss of rural Indonesian roads.

Our adventurous spirit had us heading in the general direction of our home town, but without road signs, a map, or a trusty guide, we ended up on a road with a blockade that read, "Do not enter: this road closed due to volcanic activity." Apparently our northern route had led us right to Mount Merapi.

So, I pulled over and asked a local vendor how to get to my desired destination. He and his wife immediately said, "Continue on this road for a few kilometers and then turn right. You can't miss it."

Naturally I asked, "Isn't this road closed? The sign says so."

"Of course not. Go on."

So, being the go-getter I am, we headed on up. Not 30 seconds after passing the sign, we entered the tent-city of the evacuees from Merapi’s activity. I quickly pulled over and walked into the first police station I saw. I politely asked the gentlemen how to get home, to which they laughed hysterically before saying (roughly translated), “Son, you done got yourself so lost, it’ll take Search & Rescue team to get you out of here.”

After a few more minutes of us all laughing at my blunder, one man said he was about to head home anyway, and that he’d be happy to lead us to the main inter-city road.

We followed this fellow for several kilometers before he pulled over to give us brief directions the rest of the way, as his home took him in another direction. His muddled jargon and gesticulations left me baffled, but wanting to proceed. So, I thanked the kind man, then immediately turned left, misunderstanding his pantomime, before he raced up behind us, flashing his lights like a disco strobe. He got out and furrowed his brow as he approached the passenger-side window to clarify, “I said straight, then left. Not left, then straight.”

“Oh, I see now,” I said as I played the role of the dumb tourist. “So straight, then left. Ahha! Thanks again.” And we’re off. This time he doesn’t follow, so I figure we’re okay.

Two hours and several numb extremities later, we arrived home.