As so much happened during our time in Lombok with Amat’s family, it’s taken a little bit of time to compile a diary; this is a condensed account of what was one of the most surreal, eye-opening and thrilling experiences of our time away…

Day 1: We took a boat from Gili T with all the boys from Rudy’s bar and Hana. The manager of the bar had just given out holiday bonuses so the boys were all in very high spirits and he then decided to pay for the boat – result!

We arrived in Bangsal Lombok about an hour later where a bemo – a car with a long back with two benches either side (not very comfortable but lots of fun!) – was waiting for us. Many of the boys have motorbikes and they followed behind the car which has an open back end, pulling faces and driving (quite frankly) very dangerously in order to amuse us. As we drove over one of the many mountains on Lombok we passed armies of monkeys and saw stunning views.

After a couple of hours we arrived in Amat’s village, a very small place called Kalayu where most civilians have never seen a western person in their lives, let alone two young western girls, one of whom is blonde, and this rendered us totally conspicuous as we drove through the streets, with many people staring and shouting, and some young people following the bemo on their mopeds. We’ve never experienced anything like this before and felt both amused and slightly unnerved. As we pulled up outside the entrance to the network of small streets around Amat’s home, he informed us that his mother’s name was Rah-Mee, and in answer to the question ‘And what about your Dad?’ he replied ‘I don’t know.’ He also warned us that his house was very basic and ‘not nice’; when we arrived we found that the former was true but that the latter was not; his mother had been cleaning for two days, and had kicked Amat out of his room to give us a bed – he would be sleeping on the floor outside! Rah-mee was very small and very smiley, and the father (no name) was constantly laughing at us. Neither of them spoke any English, so we conversed with the most important phrases – ‘Tirima Kasih: Thank you’ ‘Apa Kabar?: How are you?’ and ‘Bagus: Good’. She immediately produced a mountain of food, which she’d obviously bought just for us – there were sweet biscuits, bananas, and many other things that they clearly couldn’t afford on a daily basis, which made us feel a bit uncomfortable, but which we tucked into quickly in appreciation. She was still fasting, as it was the last day of Ramadan the next day, and we saw how strong she was as she watched us eat – she must have been starving!

Day 2: We woke in the morning to find half of the young male population of the village outside the door to our room. Amat insisted that they were all his friends, and they were very friendly. We all exchanged names, and although they couldn’t speak much English, we found that we had a similar sense of humour anyway and could laugh and joke around quite easily. After a breakfast of the most amazing banana pancakes cooked by Amat himself – he said he thought it was important to be a good cook so that he could be a good husband and look after the family if his wife was sick – we were informed that we were to go to the beach with all of the boys, on the bikes, to ‘hang out’. In order to give them a bit of street cred, we agreed, and had a lot of fun, although the beach was nothing compared to the white sands of Gili. Amat said that he wanted to visit our other good friend from the bar, Nas, who lived in a village about an hour’s ride away, so we set off. Arriving at Nas’ house, we were greeted by his family and most of the kids from his village. We were then offered some traditional Lombok snacks, more sweet things, and home made corn crisps with peanuts. Even though we said we were full, we were encouraged to eat anyway, and little did we know that we were to be continually stuffed with ‘traditional Lombok’ until we left the island, and that ‘No, thank you’ or ‘Sudah makan’: Already eaten’ were not valid responses. The younger children were either curious or petrified by us, and I (Ellen) kept making babies cry, which was slightly awkward and very embarrassing!

That night there was a big street party in Amat’s village, to mark the end of Ramadan. All the local children took part in a street parade, bearing torches, and we followed Amat’s family into the main street to watch the celebrations and to cheer on Atika, Amat’s 9 year old niece. There was music, lots of drumming, and many fireworks that the locals had bought and were setting off in the street. It was a fantastic ceremony to watch, and people were passing around food that they had spent the day preparing. After the main display was over, we were ushered down a small street to meet one of Amat’s grandmother’s, who was very old and almost blind. When we arrived at the house we found that there were about twenty five local villagers waiting for us in the small room at the front of her house. We were instructed to sit on a bench against one wall, while the others sat facing us. Out came the traditional Lombok, and they all watched us eat, while they pointed and spoke in their native tongue. It was effectively a viewing, and although many of the people were friendly, we found it too a bit too intense, and were happy when we were informed that we could leave. We went back to Amat’s house for a bit of a party and, of course, more traditional Lombok!

Day 3:
We planned to visit Sanaru waterfall, one of Lombok’s main attractions, and so we drove on the bikes to Nas’ house where we were told that his older brother Jan, had a mini-van complete with television, and that he would take us to Sanaru if we paid for the petrol – this is a pretty good deal as it’s almost daylight robbery to hire a guide. The drive to the waterfall was a bit hectic as the full van couldn’t make it over the mountains, and we had to get out and push on a number of occasions, until Jan decided that it would be easier to drive up and over in reverse (I shut my eyes). The waterfall was spectacular, and Nas and Amat somehow acquired a bar of soap which they took under the fall to take a ‘mandi: shower’ while we looked on amused astonishment! After a takeaway meal of fried chicken and rice, we began the long and perilous journey back in the dark (!?). In the car we were told that we would have to stay at Nas’ house. Having no real say in the matter, we slept in Nas’ sister’s room fully clothed and went sans-mandi and sans-toothbrush (I don’t know that word in Indonesian).

Day 4:
We were woken up to be informed that we were needed on an errand for coconut juice – “good for breakfast” – we thought that we were going shopping, but instead were lead to grove of coconut trees. Amat de-vested, and shimmied up the coconut tree, which had to be at least 10 metres high, while we stood on the ground, utterly amazed. He twisted the huge coconuts from the roots and threw them down, where Nas’ brother was waiting with a giant knife; he cut them into giant cups, and we drank the freshest coconut juice of our whole trip. He then fashioned spoons out of the shells and we ate the entire inside – it was so delicious. We spent the rest of the day watching the local people cutting and drying the tobacco, talking to the local English teacher about the language and how best to tackle it, correcting the grammar mistakes as we chatted, and rounded the day off with a two hour badminton marathon at the village badminton hall! Sophia left Nas’ village on his bike while I traveled with Nas’ brother and Amat in the car. On the way I was informed that we were make a stop at Jan’s grandmother’s (by this point I feared more traditional Lombok) and was immediately force-fed local rice wine – which is essentially rice in wine – until I was nearly sick!
That night we rode into the town to surprise Amat’s mother with a feast of fried goods: fried tofu (her favourite), fried cabbage (which, by the way, was absolutely amazing!) and lots of other fried who knows what! We managed to feed the entire extended family for as little as two pounds!

Day 5:
Day five saw a visit to a closer waterfall. As the locals were on holiday after Ramadan, many people had gathered to bathe and take a ‘massage mandi’ under the falls. We felt very conspicuous as many people were staring and commanding us to shower – it was pretty uncomfortable, which was a shame because the falls themselves were beautiful!
As it was our last night, Rah-Mee had bought fish for dinner, and we had a fantastic dinner with the family, trying to learn as many new Indonesian words as we could! It’s a very simple language with no tenses, so quite easy to pick up. After dinner we headed into the town on the boys bikes for some last minute shopping, and managed to pick up some English Dora DVDs for Atika, so she could continue to learn English at home (Dora’s her favourite).

Day 6:
Squid feast and a farewell present of traditional Lombok to see us through to the end of our trip! I was feeling very sick in the morning, with a bad headache and dizziness, and was instructed to ‘spit out the ghost’ that was apparently inside of me. After politely and then firmly refusing, I was instead given a rather painful reflexology foot massage in front of the whole family – joy! – although it did actually make me feel a lot better!
We said a very grateful goodbye to Rah-Mee and no-name father, and left what we hoped would cover the expenses of the food she had splashed out on. We left for Bangsal in Nas’ brother’s mini-van, looking forward to being back in paradise but so grateful for the experience we’d been given by Amat and his family.