Sumatra: the downpour of God
He has made night in Sumatra. I see that the GPS are more than 120 miles to any population. I ask, but the answers I get from the locals are vague. No one speaks English. Indonesia was a Dutch colony and are not used to interacting with foreigners, rather scarce on an island giant, no infrastructure and where the tourist industry although there is great natural beauty. Perhaps the fact that it is in a 90% Muslim and who is to take a sack from anywhere civilized Westerners make retract and prefer the much more crowded, exploited and uncomfortable Bali, but Hinduism which makes it more permissive with imported holiday services: alcohol, y sexo bikini. In one of these pristine beaches where the dock fishermen barquichuelas, the vision of a two piece and four inches of female flesh provide a real social earthquake.
In one of these pristine beaches where the dock fishermen barquichuelas, the vision of a two piece and four inches of female flesh provide a real social earthquake
The trip is no longer fun. This is just to survive. The forest stands, engulfs us like a hungry ogre plant. The road winds down the hill and up. Is destroyed by the relentless passage of trucks shipped in a nearby port bound for any of the 14.000 islands that make up the State of Indonesia. Some of these potholes could end the trip. I'm sick and tired. It is in these moments when I wonder why. "Why are you doing this if you have no need? You have nothing to prove even if it was your goal to demonstrate value, worth, resistance to weather. It's done everything ". But here I am, in Sumatra, traversing a forest under a sky dark cruel shortly going to give me a flood.
The trip is no longer fun. This is just to survive. The forest stands, engulfs us like a hungry ogre plant
These clouds endless cast their wrath on me is as if I had formed. I have fear. Today I do not know if I will reach my destination. The route is objectively dangerous and they fit many miles. Then I remember God. That God that I recently discovered without anyone tell me about it, except I seek and I find it no been provided at all life. Now I do not know what answers to give me if he exists because I do not understand, I do not understand and did not reach their reasons for doing what he does. And no reason why I stopped believing for many years. Because it is irrational. So do not blame the atheists and agnostics who do not believe. I understand. Sometimes I would forget my rosary, religious beliefs and let me run back to the group of skeptics. We live much quieter on that side. I know because I crossed the bridge without having need for it. To be clear, to me with a beer in hand, a bed and a woman to love me at times, I have too and I just. The unearthly transcendence is beyond me so I do not know where the hell put. But the fact is that I. Although sometimes hesitate. Of course I doubt, I'm so fickle, cowardly and weak that I do not understand the reasons that I have protected all this time.
A thought arises in my head about this disgusting and slippery road. "Please, make it stop raining ". This is a request, a plea. When the acknowledge, I delete it immediately. "Forget, I have not asked for anything. If Llueve, rain ". I never ask anything. Never. I do not believe in Him to give me anything. Just to give thanks. A boy asked a lot. Such childish things like "please, you like that girl or my team win ". And I never gave anything. On the contrary. All I asked, I refused. So I stopped asking system and I think it started operating. I did not ask and sometimes got what he wanted and sometimes not, but nobody to responsible. These things were not God's business. Then I became older, more rational, more gulf and less interested in children's issues and stopped believing. When in Uzbekistan began to believe again, I kept my habit of not asking. He never asks God for oneself and less. When I go into a temple in my travels, I light candles. They are always for others, for I and for those who do not know. Sometimes, rarely, also for me. But not to protect me, but to help me be better.
A thought arises in my head about this disgusting and slippery road. "Please, make it stop raining "
But today is different. Today I have real fear. The potholes are deep. I see nothing. There are many trucks. I have 8 hours driving, I'm exhausted and I still have more ahead of 80 km. And I can not even say it's an extraordinary feat what I do because I meet dozens of bikes, of these small bikes used by Asian. Go without rain suit, without a helmet, goggles and gloves. But they'll all milk. Immune to fatigue, dodging potholes and climb up the hill. If they can, you too, tell me. And I'm scared, I can not help address back to him but does not want. "According, not asking you to stop the rain, eh, I ask you not, it is clear, but, man, if rain stops would be nice ". But the rain still falling and the clouds remain compact, almost solid on the forest. Then I make the obvious stupidity of saying that nobody would miss without a good tongue-lashing. "Well, what matters is not the rain stops, the important thing is to arrive safely. So I'm in your hands. Like so many times. "And hear me think so, add another stupidity even worse: the doubt. "I wonder if you really exist or are only my imagination to the world for having survived, in my atrocious driving and my unconsciousness ".
The tacos are drained into the pothole and the bike falls to the ground with a terrible blow
Reached a hump for accelerating the bike does not stop just at the top and find another chipped cracked asphalt. The tunnel is about four inches. I try to avoid it to avoid destroying the front wheel. The head shake heads the wheel sharp right at the edge of the rupture. The tacos are drained into the pothole and the bike falls to the ground with a terrible blow. As I fall I'm perfectly aware that my right foot got caught under the bag and the right arm hits the tar firm. When everything stops, I fear the worst. This soil is hard, is not like falling into a mud track or. I'm trapped and there's nobody to help me. I have to hurry because the bike without lights, if a truck or a motorcycle up the hill too fast can overwhelm us. Struggle to take your foot and get it. I stand. I stretch my arm. Appears to function. The rain suit is torn at the elbow, but protection of the jacket has worked perfectly. The ankle also rotates. The fingers move. You may not have a fracture. It happened to me before and I know all resists hot, cold but things change.
The bike has been with the wheels facing the sky. I hear the hum of a truck, I stand in the middle of the road and make him sign when it appears. He gets a guy more scared than I. Following are some bikes. Everyone stops. They start up the BMW and then fall. I have not taken a picture. Always the fucking photo! El show imparable. El show implacable. I open the hood, camera bag and take a snapshot for the memory. You only see the dark, destroyed the asphalt, the bike on the floor and wonderful humble people who are always there to lend a hand.
I climb on the bike sore but full. I start and accelerated. I've got fifty miles and I have to get as
"Mister, mister ", say, and ask me if I'm okay sign. Yes, yes I am. I do not fully understand; if they fall here would not be well. It is the difference between wearing good clothes and good helmet or body as they go all here. For an Indonesian in his moped crashes, there is no second chance. Fortunately, technology has saved my physical. What my mind is another thing. Bold and I check to find no serious damage. Even the right bag is in place despite having taken the full brunt. It's amazing because these anchors are soldiers from Nepal. The burst into a little accident with my mother going. They should have skipped. But. Everything is in order. I climb on the bike sore but full. I start and accelerated. I've got fifty miles and I have to get as; this has only just begun. I cerebro bulle, my heart still beats faster, agitated. I was very lucky, tell me. Again luck, that blessed flower in the ass some people say I have and I have saved one hundred, thousand, a million times. While I miss the impression, elusive potholes, advancement trucks, let me give the air on the face to take my dream and shock.
Wait a minute. The air is giving me in the face. I have the hood open. I see the way I have before. Water droplets do not enter. Only now I realize. It's stopped raining. The emotional shock that I receive at this time is almost stronger than I've been to the ground minutes ago. Skeptics will never understand and I can not explain coherently. Can not. I could never, but I can not but recognize and express, otherwise would not be fair, would not be true to myself and what I know with me. Right now I feel again that not only rode. Under these tropical trees back to recognize the same as in the desolate steppes of Central Asia. That someone is me. Someone who for some reason me out and keeps me despeñe. That someone forgive imperfect, I do not get the goodness to slaughter, even my selfishness and my vanity are almost bigger than my GS 1200. He knows that I fight against it but I am defeated every day and I have to start again. But today I found not bear to ruin my good mood with meanness and misery, nor he who doubts. It's a fucking joker who plays with me. I asked him to stop raining and as a reward I was thrown from the bike, but then I have held for me to realize it's there, and when He wishes all may end. For now do not want. He has his reasons because I do not understand them.
Comments (7)
Juan Pedro
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Always a pleasure to read to Michael Sylvester.
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Rafa
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Awesome story that demonstrates the strength with which you are, giving more value if it is the great achievement that these are only haciendo.No photos and dreamy landscapes,is the effort and suffering of a man and his machine against the elements. Great Miquel
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Teresa
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No matter you creemos, the important thing is that we are ..(..essence )…and when we stop kicking ….that essentially rescues us and we huddled. Everything is within!!!!, There is nothing out there that is not within….projected …
We !!! . A beautiful description, as you type it corresponds to!!!!!
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RK
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WELL DONE, GUY!
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Trojan
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Magnificent!! Stunning photos
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Pepe
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Miquel helluva!!!
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Ricardo Coarasa
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Miquel Congratulations for your sincerity and for your courage. You say what you feel, although not politically correct, and you say, very well. No need to ask hace al top anything for you, and others will do it for you. Big hug and lots of encouragement.
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