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are you sure that's a bus?

By Author: Dean Johnston
E-mail: dinoj2@hotmail.com

Submitted on Tuesday 15th January 2002

We were in Sumatra, Indonesia and "about to" embark on a fourteen-hour bus ride from Bukittinggi to Lake Toba. In retrospect, a more accurate phrase might have been "hoped to". We had already become a bit skeptical because of the incredulous looks we got from people supposedly "in the know" that we told about our nice express, A/C public bus that we had already booked our seats on. Then we found out that a tourist mini-bus (fancy name for a minivan, but still usually quite a bit faster and more comfortable than a bus) was leaving the morning after our alleged ride. Oh well. We made our way through the pouring rain to the bus terminal an hour early, just as we were told to, where we found five Indonesians smoking in a booth next to a really crappy-looking old bus, completely empty.

"To Prapat, right? Yeah, that your bus. Here, here, go right here." We balked at the back door of the bus, doubt and confusion etched on our faces. I used the sides of the door to hold myself back as he tried to push me in. It was like trying to force a cat into a box.

"Um, I don't think this is the bus we're supposed to be on."

"Prapat, ya? This is bus."

" Yeah, Prapat, but, no, we paid to have A/C and a toilet and seats with the padding on the inside."

Eventually we managed to convince them that we weren't going fourteen hours (some said as much as eighteen) in that heap, even though he did make the very tempting offer of refunding us 20,000 rupiah (about ) back from what we had paid. Ooh, sweet deal, but no thanks. So then we were instructed to sit with them in the booth (for lack of a better description) to wait for our bus that would be arriving at eight, nine........or maybe ten, we were informed with a shrug. Hmmm, strange. Five minutes later, one of the guys returned (I hadn't actually noticed him leave) in a taxi and told us to get in, said we had to go to the Makmar (bus company) office. Before we got in I belaboured the point that we were not paying for the taxi. They seemed shocked that we would even think such a thing. So we got in. The Makmar "office" turned out to be a little shack (with a Makmar sign, of course) containing one lady and several kids playing with an abacus, of all things. We were instructed to wait, which we did obediently, mainly due to a distinct lack of any other ideas. About ten minutes later a Toyota Kijang pulled up and three different Indonesian men got out. None of them spoke any English so we attempted a brief conversation in Indonesian from which I determined that the bus would be coming soon. Close. In fact, what they had been trying to tell me was that this was our "bus" and that we should get in. Now, as you might expect, we were a bit skeptical (yet again). To our credit (I think) it took quite a while to convince us, but eventually we hopped into the little SUV (which was nice and new, incidentally) and drove off into the night with three strange men. Hey, it seemed like the right idea at the time. Then we noticed that the seats were covered with plastic. Hmmm, that’s strange. I briefly thought about how the plastic would neatly protect the upholstery from bloodstains, but shrugged it off, mainly because by now it was too late to change our minds. Laynni told me later that she was trying to be optimistic by thinking of what the worst scenario could possibly be, but quickly dropped that line of thought on the basis that imagining herself being robbed and murdered probably wasn't going to cheer her up. Well, not long after we got going I got embroiled in a very long and very difficult Indonesian conversation (I’m improving, but far from fluent) through which we eventually learned that these guys were being paid to drive the vehicle from Jakarta to Medan where it would be delivered to a purchaser. Hence the plastic on the seats (not that it stopped them from chain-smoking in it). I decided that the guys at the bus terminal had probably sold us a ticket (one week in advance) merely on the speculation that a bus might come through that night and, when there wasn't, they were good enough to try to protect their reputations (seems unlikely, but I can’t think of any other reason) by making other arrangements for us. Laynni thinks we just got really lucky. I think that it’s pretty safe to assume that our new drivers didn't get all the money we paid, but it’s more than they would have got without us, I guess. As for our side of things, the trip ending up taking only 11 1/2 very comfortable hours and nobody even tried to wheedle any extra money out of us. All's well that ends well.