Sumatra Tsunami Cafe (Episode 4). Booze, Drugs and Coffee Droppings.

Coffee beans, the luwak's favourite.

But no matter how unique, the taste of the Kopi Luwak is not the main reason this kind of coffee is so expensive. Annually, only 1,000 kilograms of Kopi Luwak go on the market and that’s what makes it so pricey. After my snooping around for it, it wouldn’t surprise me if next year’s harvest will increase. Don’t laugh. There’s nothing funny about that.

– Kopi Luwak? What is Kopi Luwak?
– Don’t you know? It’s that expensive coffee made out of droppings.
– No, I don’t know. Do we have that here?

Rose, the owner of Rumba pizza place and Tika the owner of “Penny’s Books” book shop had never heard of the special coffee. I told them about it and explained the manufacturing process. They were shocked to hear for how much money it was sold.

– How much is that in rupiah?
– It’s one million three hundred thousand.
– One million three hundred thousand??? Who would pay that much for a cup of coffee?
– You would be surprised, I answered, quoting my friend, Roxana.

To Asians, the white man is a money making machine. I don’t know if this prejudice is a result of the past colonization period or of the present recolonization of the TV era. Yet, the western civilization does its best to paint itself as such. What seemed funny to me was the fact that a Romanian such as me, coming from a country torn between Europe and the Orient, would receive the same treatment as Western folk only by the bias of skin color. You could call it racism – the white man is always buying, selling, then buying and selling again.

– How much do you want to buy?
– Oh, I’m not looking to buy. I just want to learn about this kind of coffee
– What do you mean you don’t want to buy?
– OK, I’ll buy some if it means so much to you.
– All right. We’ll call our relatives tomorrow and see what we learn.
– Well, don’t call all of them…

According to Batak tradition, all the people sharing a last name are relatives. All Siraits, all Simamoras, all Siregats consider themselves members of the same families, even though they don’t share any trace of a gene. I wish we had that tradition too. I know of a few big shot lawyers I share the last name with and I wouldn’t mind some free legal advice.

And because of that Batak tradition, we had to delay our departure a day. Posmen was wearing black and he was in a hurry to get to a funeral. His “brother” had died.

– Oh, Posmen, what a tragedy. I’m so sorry. How old was he?
– 32.
– Was it an accident?
– No. It was drugs. Chemicals, bad stuff from abroad. We all told him to cut it out, but he wouldn’t listen. He drank and did drugs until his heart burst.
– That’s too bad.
– Yes, too bad. He was a wonderful guy and he could really play guitar.
– I’m sorry.
– I’ll see you around 8 o’clock to talk about our trip. Bring a map

Eco, organic, kaka

I recently saw a documentary that stated droppings make the world go round. I can argue that theory with two pros. The first, as I’ve already told you, is Kopi Luwak – the coffee made of the Asian weasel’s droppings. The second pro is related to psychoactive drugs. I’ll explain.

Once you land on any Indonesian international airport you will see the following warning: “Welcome to Indonesia. Drug trafficking is punishable by death”. Crystal clear. There are a few trash cans left on the way to the scanner so you can get rid of whatever you’re carrying.

On the 26^th of June 2008, two Nigerians – Samuel Iwachekwu Okoye and Hansen Anthony Nwaliosa – were executed by firing squad for smuggling drugs into Indonesia. The harshness of the Indonesian punishments for drug trafficking started a real war between Amnesty International and president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY).

Strange to say that the owner of the first restaurant you encounter by the side of the road in Tuk-Tuk seems he’s never heard about the death penalty. A sign saying “We Sell Magic Mushroom” is hanging in front of the establishment, in plain sight. A few graphic images of a giant mushroom surrounded by psychedelic clouds top up the advertisement making it clear for everyone that yes, it’s “that” kind of mushrooms. The second restaurant on the way has the same sign. So does the third. I bet you can’t imagine where the Magic Mushroom comes from. Well… it grows after the rain out of buffalo droppings. I’m not kidding and, please, don’t try this on your grandparents’ farm. It only works with tropical droppings.

– Aren’t you people afraid of putting up these signs on the side of the road? I imagined you would be a little more discreet about these things.
– But why should we be afraid?
– Well, because drugs are illegal, for one.
– Magic Mushroom is no drug. It’s a plant. It’s natural and organic. It comes from the kaka!
– The what?
– The kaka, the shit of the buffalo!
– That’s funny. We also call it kaka in Romanian.
– You see?

In Thailand, they use elephant droppings. It’s better than the buffalo’s, they say. You’re glad you “only” paid 10 Euros for a 15 minutes ride on the pachyderm. They’re glad they can buy it food. Then, all they have to do is wait for it to rain and… harvest.

Back in Indonesia. I’m hungry. I go into the fourth restaurant in Tuk-Tuk, open the menu on the page that says “breakfast” and it hits me: “Mushroom omelet, no magic”. At least it’s cheap.

(To be continued)

English translation by Andreea Sminchise.