Dancing Horses

Saturday I headed to West Sulawesi with Daya and Yusran (who we nicknamed the domestic bule, meaning it was 2 bule and a tiny woman on a big adventure) on the recommendation of one of the teachers from here. She comes from a city that annually has a, as she described it, horse party, and apparently this year was the biggest ever (100+ horses).
Obviously I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but Daya asked if I wanted to go and she pretty much organized everything so I of course said yes. After leaving at 8am and not arriving to the city until after 12, knowing we were going to return at 4, and not really sure what we were seeing, I was less than thrilled. The drive was pretty nice though and it let me see some different parts of Sulawesi. The city was right on the ocean too, and, as per usual, a good attitude and some patience turned it into a good day. A family member of the teacher (she was in Makassar) came and found us and led us to their home where we were of course fed and stared at (more me than Yusran and Daya!).
To cut the story short, the party turned out to be a parade of ‘dancing horses’ with children riding. The 2 girls from the family we knew had just finished with their reading of the holy Koran; I’m not sure if this was standard for all. There were about 30 horses with boys (wearing, what I imagine as, Arab wear (turban, long white dress-thing)) and 70 or so with girls (some wearing bright traditional Mandar, the local people, wear, others wearing traditional Muslim wear (according to Daya)). Apparently this is a very old tradition, though no one knew how old. There are stories of the Mandar and their horses going back hundreds of years though so I’m guessing it’s old!
In addition to the horses, there were also groups with lots of hide and wood drums usually played by guys from 7 or 8 to 70 or 80. They really got into their music and there was lots of dancing. With all the music, bright colors, and happy people it reminded me a bit of Brasil. In combination with the parade (I really like ‘horse party’ much better) there, in the last few years has been some sort of weeklong sailing competition too (maybe there are ancient ties here, hard to get the whole story, even with fluent translators). One result was that I was not the only bule (not counting Yusran either, Daya called him the domestic bule when he got in the car and then later some random people thought he was a bule too).

I’ve tried to get a video from the parade up with no luck, but I have pictures here in an old album:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2074625&id=15804233&l=97bf134ccd

Speaking of pictures, the first is a link to the pictures from Jakarta, and the 2nd to the Pesantren album I have going, some new pictures relate to some of the stuff below.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2084143&id=15804233&l=51346bc6a5 http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2074571&id=15804233&l=64d4b87f5a

Some other highlights from the weekend:
So last blog I mentioned that I don’t list all the day to day stuff anymore, well day was particular interesting so I thought I share a couple highlights.
First was walking out my back door in the morning to see a bunch of middle schoolers pulling the feathers off of ducks and grilling them up. I shrugged my shoulders, of course took some pictures, and went back to planning travels (I bought a bunch of tickets today!).
Luckily that duck ended up leading to my favorite food here in Indonesia itik! Itik is a type of duck; it looks just like a classic duck to me, but they also have bebek here which is translated as duck also, but is shorter and fatter. Itik is found all around Indonesia, but apparently is a specialty here.
My next weird moment came at dinner when I was eating left over itik (just picking at it really since even when it was fresh, the meal made my stomach feel a little funky). As I grabbed a piece of itik (it is always chopped up into annoyingly small pieces that are mostly bone), I pulled at a piece of meat, not recognizing it (not a new thing, I routinely have no idea what part of an animal I am eating here). After wiping away a bit of the sauce I realized I was being stared at…yeah I was holding half a duck head in my hands!
As I was walking over to dinner Imran’s kids were getting ready to go do some martial arts, I assumed, somewhere nearby. As it turns out it was a large portion of the pesantren and they were doing them on the basketball court (which has been used for everything, but basketball). I wasn’t feeling that great (this sinus infection/cold won’t go away), but I did go out and take some pictures. There is just something a little odd to see a bunch of teenage girls in Tae-Kwan-Do uniforms…and jilbabs.
Oh Indonesia, how I’ll miss your absurd ‘normal days’.

I already had this written, but because my internet is as it is, I hadn't posted it. Then Yusran came and grabbed me Sunday afternoon and took me to see a Rooster competition. That turned out not to be much (it did make for some interesting sentences from him since the translation he knew was cock) so Yus took me out to see some of his family. As per usual I had no clue what I was getting into, but I had a pretty good time and got some tasty snacks.

What an interesting weekend!