Video: Riding the Lunatic Express

In this month’s issue of Traveler, we excerpt contributing editor Carl Hoffman’s upcoming book, The Lunatic Express. In the excerpt, Hoffman describes riding an Indonesian ferry that felt like “every

man, woman, and child in Jakarta was swarming into her belly.” But

after several days on the boat, he writes, the passengers began to treat

him like family, including him in their rituals, meals, and entertainment. Here’s the video

Carl shot of the moment he describes below.

Once I was known, grown used to, an endless stream of strangers

approached me, waved me over, bought me coffee and tea, called out to

me. In my space on my plank I was an old family member. Florinda fed me

slices of fishy tempeh. Mrs. Nova made sure I was hydrated. Lena, I

suspect, prayed for my soul. One evening I trudged back from up on

deck, stepping gingerly past people’s sarongs on the floor and hands

and heads, and came upon nine ebony-colored men with muscular arms

gathered around each other a few planks down from mine. Three of them

held crude, homemade ukuleles constructed of fiberboard and nylon,

thinly painted in whitewash. Clouds of cigarette smoke rose around

them. Perspiration flew from their heads–it was 100 degrees at least,

with not a wisp of fresh air. And for two hours they sang in rough,

deep, and mad harmony, songs of Papua and work and Indonesian folk

songs, other men keeping beat with empty water bottles. They were

coming off five months on a gas well in Brunei, heading home to Sorong,

a journey from start to finish of almost 12 days. “Sit! Sit!” cried

Jacobus. “We want whiskey! Where are you going?” “Ambon,” I said, and

they broke into song, with a refrain of “Ambon Man” in English. Their

singing was spontaneous, organic. The raw energy of lions roaring on

the plain, the best of human beauty in the midst of the worst possible

place. After two hours they wore themselves out; Jacobus’s fingers were

bloody, he’d played so long and so hard. I lay down to sleep, the

lights bright, my body a series of bruised points on the hard plank.

You can read the rest of the excerpt here, read Carl’s blog here, and order the book online here.