One night in October 1989, my Bear, that’s how I called my man, a Toraja man, took me by his trail motorcycle (years later, I found out, that it was not even his.  It was rented by using his meagre student pocket money!) through the dark night to his father’s village. Batutumonga, a hamlet, dotted with big, black rocks among the green rice fields, high above the clouds.

We spent the night in the wooden house of my Bear’s auntie (picture of view from her window).  She hastily heated a tin of sardine for the four of us (we rode with two other friends) and some rice.  Exhausted, we slept-the four of us on the wooden floor of the sitting room. It was soooo cold. Since then, I cannot stand the smell or to eat tinned sardine.  Since then, I know, that one day, I have to stay in Batutumonga. A yearning so strong, that I carry in all the cells of my body, every day. Until today, this is my three pronged dream: I want to live with my Bear, in a house in Batutumonga and then to share my experience.

Thus the purpose of this blog, to share with all of you out there!