Durian Party

Thursday morning I set of to work with a somewhat sure plan of what I was going to be involved in that day but it did not take long until any sense of order or control was shaken once again.  One of my coworkers, Dedi, had invited me to visit a friend of his in a nearby district of Jambi called Batanghari.  His friend being the Deputy Bupati (like a deputy mayor) made the trip somewhat of a big deal and kept getting postponed and rescheduled, all with eagerness towards the promise that we would be going to a “durian park.”  So when the day came and I arrived at the office planning to promptly head out, the fact that an unscheduled meeting was beginning to materialize in the conference room made me unsurprised when Sumi said we would be leaving a little later

When the meeting finally came towards a close, the eight of us, including Katie, Carolyn and a few coworkers, packed up into the van and started the hour journey just two hours later than planned.  Even though the plan had been to go directly to our host’s house, with our stomachs grumbling it was decided we would get lunch first before heading to his house.  So after our delicious (and free) lunch we traveled on, visiting our host’s house long enough to make small talk, have a cup of generously sweetened tea and a few awkward silences.  Next, the plan was to go to a durian park, but of course that did not mean that it was nearby so it took us another hour drive, a boat ride across a river, and a modest walk through a traditional, i.e. poor, village and into a forest until we arrived at the anticipated durian park, all the while our group swelling in size as unfamiliar men tagged along also excited about the prospect of eating durian.

The durian park itself turned out to be a small forest with an elevated hut that we were told was used by people to watch out for falling durian to collect.  A picnic table was set up by this hut, and like guests of honor we were seated next to the Deputy Bupati at the head of the table.  When they opened the first durian I made a remark about “durian number one” in Indonesian that received plenty of laughter.  While I made that comment knowing we would be eating a few at this durian party, I was not prepared for the 20 or so durian that were splayed open and laid on the table in front of us with expectant looks and gestures.  Nor was I prepared for the disheveled and loud Indonesian man sitting across from me who every time I looked at him was sucking on yet another durian pit with the white flech of the fruit left marking a ring around his mouth.  I was surprised at myself and a little impressed that I had five whole pieces of this pungent fruit that I am gradually growing to love even though some people may be incredulous at the possibility of that.

Katie, Carolyn and I with the Deputy Bupati gorging ourselves at the Durian Party. 

 

I was instructed to put a chunk of durian fruit into my cup of coffee.  Never thought that the flavor of dark Sumatran coffee could be overpowered so quickly.

The entire village was mesmerized by our visit with half of them following us to the durian party and then back to our boat to see us off home.

Our visit to the durian park ended with a requested speech on what we Americans were doing in Indonesia, a promise by me that I would come back and stay a night with them in their village sometime (?!), and dozens of group photos.  Since Katie, Carolyn and I expected this to be the end of our trip and we were looking forward to taking our weary bodies back to Jambi, we were surprised when our van pulled up at an unfamiliar house and we were informed that we had been invited to dinner at someone’s house.  On the bright side it was one of the best sate meals I have had in Indonesia so far, meaning I only counted two chunks of fat on my skewers compared to the normal half meat half fat ratio.

After dinner was finished and the men had satisfied themselves with smoking enough cloves it was time to head home.  It didn’t take long for all five of us women to fall asleep and we were grateful, but groggy when we arrived home to Jambi late in the night.