I Love Manado, Manado Love Me - Part 1

I was due. I knew that.

I’ve been on well over a hundred airplanes since graduating college, on many weird trips that have given me the opportunity to spend time in airports in such exotic domestic locations as Wichita KS, Newark NJ, Buffalo NY, Sacramento CA, Kona HI (ok, can’t really complain about that one), Columbus and Cincinnati OH (well technically the Cincinnati airport is in Kentucky…), Harrisburg PA, and too many more bigger airports to count. Internationally I’ve flown into Kathmandu and Pokhara Nepal, Nagpur, Bangalore and New Delhi in India (numerous times), Frankfurt, Paris, Singapore, Hong Kong, Cancun, Sri Lanka, Dubai, Jakarta, and probably more I’m forgetting. I’ve seen a lot of airports all over the world, but never once had an airline lost my bag until this trip. It used to be a streak I’d only cautiously allude to, not wanting to wake the baggage karma gods. I knew my number was coming, so as I sat in the Jakarta airport staring hopefully at the baggage belt, my heart sank as I saw everyone around me reach for their own luggage and the area slowly clear around me. Soon it was just me and the same pink Dora the Explorer bag making circuit after circuit on the merry-go-round of precious possessions, begging to be claimed. Even it was finally hauled off by a frustrated mother with a couple screaming kids in tow. I had to face the music. The streak was over.

Rewind a couple weeks; I was pumped because I had just received my confirmation email from the Lumba Lumba dive resort in Manado, North Sulawesi, Indonesia for my stay, telling me not to worry about the deposit as long as I promised not to be a no show. My friend and co-worker Jayme had planned a vacation for himself and his wife and invited me to tag along, as we both had to be at our Jakarta office on different consecutive weekends. It was going to work out perfectly just to meet somewhere nearby for a few days in-between. Not bad for a last minute vacation.



Pretty much right on the equator!

Indonesia is a confusing country geography-wise. I wonder how the decided which parts of which islands belonged to whom? I'm sure there were wars fought over it.

Everything was set, or so I thought. Since I was going to Jakarta for business, I booked my ticket to there through work, and bought the ticket from Jakarta to Manado myself, with just a couple hour layover. Everything was working out swimmingly.  Until I got to the Bangalore ticket desk, and heard them say, “Ok Mr. Olander here is your ticket from Bangalore to Singapore, but we see you’re on standby for Singapore to Jakarta.” Ruh roh. Not good. So I pulled out my confirmation itinerary from my travel folder (I am very well organized when I travel, as anyone who has traveled with me can attest to. I’ve been made fun of numerous times for my “travel folder” in which I keep two copies of every piece of travel documentation you could ever need) to show them that I did in fact have a confirmed seat. It said so right there on the paper from my work travel agent. Seat 4A. Confirmed.

“No sir, our system shows you aren’t confirmed, and the flight is full.” So I call up the travel agent (of course they don’t have their “A team” working on what is Sunday morning in the US) “Well, Mr. Olander, everything looks good on our end. I don’t know what to tell you.” Awesome. So I passed my phone to the Bangalore ticket desk people to talk to my travel agent. Guess who wins when the travel agent says you’re confirmed and have a seat, and when the airline says you don’t? I was determined not to leave and board the first plane until I had a seat on the airplane for my second leg. And I think the girl at the airline desk could sense that as well. So she comes over a few minutes later and says “Ok, they will have a ticket for you at the transfer desk in Singapore.” I wanted to believe her, but I knew she was probably lying to me to get me out of her hair. When you spend enough time in India, you learn the dark art of skepticism (aka bullshit detection) very well, and my Spidey Sense told me that she was full of bullshit. I asked her to print my ticket here, but she said that the system wouldn’t let her. Resigned to the fact that there was nothing else I could do, I boarded my first flight knowing I was probably screwed when I landed.



Had there been a BS alarm handy, I would have pressed it.

To make a long story…well…. longer, I was right…no ticket when I got to Singapore. I went to three different transfer desks and made a couple more calls to the travel agent before I found someone who was helpful. This fine young gentleman found a way to move me up to #1 on the standby list, as long as I was willing to sit in coach. As I sat there playing scenarios over in my head, I was becoming pretty depressed. If I missed this flight, I would miss my flight to Manado for sure, and I would be out a $350 non-refundable ticket, and since the next three flights were full as well, probably miss out on the majority of the vacation portion of my trip altogether. Finally, the flight attendants did their final checks and there was one spot left that they thankfully gave to me. The counter supervisor had me hop in the little golf cart airport trolley and before I knew it he was driving like Dale Earnhardt (for lack of knowledge of any southern Asian NASCAR drivers) through the terminal towards the gate.

Fast forward back (if it’s possible to fast forward back to something, seems somewhat oxy moronic) to me sitting at the Lost Luggage Desk in Jakarta. It was a zoo. You can imagine how difficult it is to communicate to people at luggage desks in Indonesia. Looking back, it was a longshot for my bag to make it onto the plane since I barely made it myself before they closed the airplane door. After listening to their apologies, I explained to them that I was taking a different airline to Manado, but they assured me they would have it delivered to me the next day at the resort once it arrived from Singapore. My bullshit alarm goes off once again, but once again there’s nothing I can do. So, I put on my MacGyver hat and take stock of my possessions to see if I could survive for five days in a tropical location. I have jeans, a t-shirt, the pair of boxers I was wearing, flip flops, and my computer bag complete with a half pack of gum. Survive, yes. Comfortably? Most definitely not. So I find a Polo store in the airport and purchase some shorts and another shirt so I at least had one change of clothes.  

Soon after I found Jayme and Andrea roaming the airport, as we were on the same flight from Jakarta to Manado, and I tell them about the last 12 frustrating hours of my life (first world problems…I know) over a Starbucks coffee (anytime you can grab normal tasting coffee over here is a delight). We make our way to the gate and board the plane. At that point, I’m just happy to be there and on the flight. When I thought about the alternatives, not having any luggage didn’t seem so bad.

The flight over the different Indonesian islands also helped cheer me up a great deal. It’s always fascinating to look down on strangle lands and take in everything from a bird’s eye view. We flew over hundreds of small islands with beautiful beaches and water the brilliant colors of blue & green you only find in the tropics. There were rivers winding in and out of rainforests and rice paddies, emptying into their respective seas. It was very beautiful scenery, even from a window seat in the back of a Garuda Airlines jet. Upon landing we were met by an employee of the resort who was there to pick us up. After explaining my luggage situation to her, she drove us to a local mall where I was able to pick up the essentials like a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, contact solution, and sunblock. I also found a department store where I got some underwear & a swimsuit.

 Of course I have a slightly different body style than 99.86% of the people in Southern Asia, so it’s difficult to find clothes that aren’t of the “skinny fit” variety. Now, you’ll never catch me wearing skinny jeans. Call me old fashioned.  I’ll walk around in a loincloth before that happens. But when your swimsuit is lost somewhere between Singapore and Jakarta, you have to make do with the limited options you have. So I bought some skater-punk skinny fit board shorts, which is all they had. They will not be worn again. I also wanted to get one more t-shirt to wear, just in case my luggage didn’t show up the next day when it was supposed to. And when I saw the shirt that read “I Love Manado, Manado Love Me” with a big heart in the middle, I couldn’t resist. I just hoped that buying the shirt would prove prophetic. Spoiler alert:  It was.



My awesome new T-Shirt and less than awesome trunks.  

After our side trip to the mall, we made the beautiful drive to our resort, watching the sun set over the Celebes Sea. The roadside was dotted with local roadside vendors selling their grilled fish, probably pulled out of the ocean that morning. Other vendors were selling roasted ears of corn. Other vendors were probably selling meats from other animals (more on that in the next post). Finally we pulled up to the resort gate, and I could finally relax for the first time in 24 hours. Skinny shorts & all.


The sunsets were quite striking. This was taken from the pool right by my lodge.



Once again I have taken an occurrence that could have (and most will probably argue should have) been summed up in one sentence and turned it into its own 1500 word post. I really don’t set out to turn every adventure into two separate blog posts, but it seems that is becoming the theme. But what fun would “The airline lost my luggage, and I nearly missed my flight. I had to buy some new clothes until my luggage was delivered.” have been? No fun at all. Some of you will probably be pissed that you read this far and that’s all that happened. You’ll just have to deal with it.

Tune in next post for our ocean and jungle adventures, complete with many exotic animals (both for viewing and eating)!