A Legend – The Batik People of Seram Can Fly, Indonesia, 1998
In Maluku, people believe that the Batik tribe in Seram can fly.
December 30, 1998
Waisumaia, Ceram, Molukas Islands, Indonesia (TCC country #147)
Today was a great day. Everything just seemed to flow smoothly, and then, I met the most beautiful girl ever. Her name is Novita. I woke with Siska. Even though she and I had sex three times last night, I just could not resist her easiness, and when she came out of the bathroom with her pants unbuckled, I asked her to get back in bed, which she did.
I flew to Ambon, listening to the song on the synthesizer/computer. I studied the lyrics I had written in the hotel room, replacements for what I had written, to try out a new theme. This one was called Dreamtime. It referred to my philosophical writings. I made an arrangement at the Ambon airport for me to be driven to Liang to catch the ferry tonight to Ceram. The driver, Soloman, and his boss, Di, accompanied me.
At the ferry landing we found out that the 8pm ferry would leave at 10pm. The meal I had was so meager that I mentioned to Sol that some young girls were selling roti (bread). In the process of trying to find them, we came upon Novita, her friend and two older women, one of whom I mistakenly figured was her mother, though her real mother did show up a little later.
When I saw Novita, I was so floored by her beauty and youth that I felt like if I could have her, I would have had everything I ever wanted. It was such an amazing feeling. Although it did not dissuade me from wanting to pursue her, I thought she was so young that no one would approve. Sol and I went off to get some bread and I had a tea. Then I returned to Novita’s table. I just sat down and started talking. She raised herself up a bit to look at something and I was stunned to see developed breasts. She was not just a girl. She was a woman. Sol had gone off to get something and before he came back, Novita and her friend were flirting pretty heavily with me. She said, “I really like you.” We were even saying “I love you.”
The older women looked on and certainly noticed the vibrations. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her for very long. Sol talked to them and we made arrangements for me to stay at a hotel near her house in the city. She is 16 years old and starting Monday at cosmetology school. When I videotaped her, she took her hair out of its tie. It seemed she was very aware of her own attractions. She was very, very sweet. Sol filmed us, so I went around and put my face next to hers and put my hands on her, particularly on her hips and then slightly in front. Later, she and I held hands. It was awesome. The plan is for me to meet her there on Friday at 4pm when the ferry arrives from Ceram. We waved goodbye. We both said we were very happy. I went on the boat, fully charged up.
On the boat Sol and I talked about women. He told me that the women of Banda have blue eyes. He said they are the most beautiful. He said though he wasn’t married he had four children. Later I stood on the deck by myself. A black man asked (in broken English) to speak to me. He wanted my advice (and money) on the idea of building a pulp mill on Ceram. I thought it was about the worst idea I’d ever heard of and diplomatically suggest-ed that Ceram itself should be a World Park.
April 3, 1999
This was my last full day in Ambon. I wanted to photograph Novita, but I want to be sensitive to her feelings, and I feel that she will be suspicious if I try too hard, so I never actually photographed her. She is extremely lovely in her appearance and mannerisms.
In the late afternoon, I called the dive center and made arrangements to go diving. I got a ride back from Sonny, the proprietor. He told me he didn’t believe in black magic, but the problem was that he had seen it. He related that about seven years before he was building a bridge in Ceram (Seram). An old woman with a bunch of bananas was at the site and he asked her if she wanted a ride to the camp. She said No, she could walk. Forty minutes later, nine kilometers distant, he drove into camp. The old woman was there with her bananas. Same clothing, same hair. There was no mistake that it was the same woman and that there were no other roads or ways she could get back quicker.
June 28, 1999
I photographed Novita lying on the couch. It was just so-so. After breakfast we did another, where I had her enclose her body in a cleft of the curtain. I think this one has promise. She looks spectacular.