A Moll's Survival Guide to Sumatra

Dear Moll Diary,

A little over two weeks in the town of Krui in Sumatra, Indonesia, and the following is what I learned. Yes, often the hard way.
P.S - Usually I try not to discriminate between moll sexes, equal rights for male molls and all, but in this case the problems outlined are specifically for the laaaaadies (if you know 'Flight of the Conchords you'll know how to sing that.)

Lesson one - If you wax, BYO
Bikini, arms, legs, nether regions, etceteras. If you (like me) have made the tough transition from razor to ripping and don't want to look back, then make sure you're packing upon entrance to the country. The 'women's' section of any supermarket will give you all the whitening cream you could never want, but other than that it's razors only. (I did try for a 'proffesional' wax in Java but that's a story for another day. A funny funny day with lots of gin)

Two - Embrace the Bintang
I've never liked beer. I can drink it, but generally it's because there's less than five bucks in my wallet and I can't see any prospective gin sponsors in my near vicinity. And trust me, after a long day of lying around the compound, a moll needs some liquor. There's two choices available. Bintang, or the sweet-cough syrup-fowl tasting - vomit educing red 'wine' (used in the loosest sense of the word). Hint. DO NOT CHOOSE THE WINE.

Three - Boardies not bikinis.
If you have images of yo' fine self struttin' yo stuff in your new MJ remembrance bikini (silver sequined left boob and Bubbles on the bum) You had better put those ideas out of your (I'm sure) gorgeous head. This is a Muslim country and if you don't respect their culture and cover up then your trip will not be enjoyable. t-shirt and boardies are the done thing.

Four - Make friends with books.
I'm not saying bring Proust's entire works (unless that floats your boat). I'm not even suggesting you have to expand your horizons. I'm just saying you're going to have a lot of time on your hands and fantasizing about Robert Patterson (yes I'm a fan) is only going to take so long. If Mills and Boon are your thing, by all means bodice-rip your way through a 'steamy and hot member' of an afternoon. Just make sure you have enough to last your time in the compound.

Five - Your compound is your kingdom
This means you had better make it a good one. You will spend a lot of time within the four walls of your 'losman' (bungalows/hotel) so make sure it's user (or more specifically moll) friendly. Insiders tip - don't stress if there's no shower. All bathrooms have a big tub of clean water and a bucket. This can become your best friend in the middle of the day, when it's unbearably hot and your boredom has hit a whole new level. Get your gear off and get your elephant on. Scoop that water and throw it in the air like you just don't care. You and the bathroom should be completely saturated by the end.

Six - Patience is a virtue
You will spend the majority of your social hours discussing surf/ watching surf/ watching surf dvd's/ riding around looking for surf/ discussing how everyone's surf was (you get the picture). If you can't sit patiently through this you are going to have problems. I found my best option was to keep a 'interested and listening' face on and retreat into my 'alternate reality'. Robert Patterson interrupts the conversation saying 'excuse me but I'm looking for the most beautiful girl in the world' (surprise surprise that's me) . Then we retire to his private yacht and have, um, mature discussions about women's micro economic loans in Bangladesh..... We talk about it for hours......

Seven - Make sure you man can moll
If your surfer has a one track mind you had better sit him down for an insightful and varied discussion regarding what will happen to his testicles if he doesn't take you out for 'walkies' (hint - this is not an erotic conversation). It doesn't really matter where you go (but did I mention facials are only $2!! he can join you or wait outside...) it just has to happen or else you will end up like a frustrated (but adorable) puppy. Frustrated puppies can do bad things such as 'chewing' up their surfers board (hint - most compounds have power tools).

My final tip is to relax and enjoy yourself. If you're in a beautiful tropical paradise then there's no point spending your time sulking in your room. Just follow these lessons and you will find Sumatra can be a moll's best friend.

Sumatra - One Moll's Fortress of Solitude

When Mr Bodyboard first suggested that we join his friends el Floppo and Mr Roughage in Indonesia as part of our world trip I was hesitant. By Indonesia he meant Sumatra and by Sumatra he meant Krui and by Krui he meant a surfing safari. Yes as in 'Let's go surfing now everybody's learning now (little know fact - The Beach Boys are a moll's Antichrist, their beautifully harmonised doctrine subliminally enters surfers minds and creates endless annoyances for molls. 'No Daz there's not two molls for every guy and you have to do more than just wink your eye to get this bikini clad beauty thank you very much!').

Eventually I was swayed by images of tropical jungle, endless white sand beaches with crystal clear water,a man-moll(Mr Roughage doesn't surf) and a promise from Mr Bodyboard that at least one portion of the day would be speant on non-surfing activities.

As I write this tropical jungle lines the dusty dirt road to our losman (bungalows) and from the viewing platform I can watch the sun set over the coral reef which is meters away. Mr Roughage has returned to Jakarta (although his few days as part of 'team moll' were full of vigilance and support) and I know Mr Bodyboard will take me swimming this afternoon.

So why is this trip so difficult for me?

Krui is still relatively isolated from tourists, and those who do make the difficult trek are almost purely groups of male surfers here from Australia on (often) a boys only surf trip. The lack of exposure to western women combined with the fact that this is a strict Muslim town (the call to prayer wakes us at 4am each morning) makes it difficult for a moll to move around.

Throughout my time here I hear of molls from other compounds who blatantly flout local cultural conventions, wearing bikinis or walking around by themselves, which results in rocks being or sexual aggression from young men. I am very careful with my dress and attitude so receive minimal flack (the worst - a kid shot me with his potato gun!!) but still find my world becomes smaller.

In the morning dawn is filled with the roar of motorbikes and wax being rubbed on boards as the men file out to live their dream of 10second barrels and endless glassy peaks (my equivalent excitement would come from spending the day with a monkey who could massage feet, imagine that!!! amazing!!! You could literally pay in peanuts!!! )

I wait alone in the compound, listening for the wave hunters return, reading or doing yoga in my room (Yoga must be done in my room unless I want a large crowd who could only be more judgmental if they had scorecards). As the best waves are at dawn and dusk Mr Bodyboard takes me out for 'walkies' during the middle of the day. A stroll into town, or a swim (fully clothed) at the beach.

One day, as another of the almost constant surfing based conversations discusses a new 'break' (non molls - it is a surf spot they are discussing, not their emotions in regards to a troubled relationship. ) I realize that for the duration of our time here, I am effectively off duty. I can't wait & watch on the beach un-chaperoned, the excess of surfers means I am not required to provide 'oooooooooohs and aaaaaaaaahs' during surfing monologues, I'm not even available as a bikini clad trophy gal. I realize there is only one path open to me. I relax into my holiday from molling.

Did an awesome wave trick? I don't care
Did two? Pffffft whatever.
I'm on holidays.

Mr Bodyboard is my moll for those mid day hours,oooohing and aaahing as I explain who is guilty in my trashy crime novel,cheering me on as I snorkel, and being my board short clad trophy that local girls make eyes at.

This is not to say it's all peaches and cream. I miss women desperately and fantasize about finding a rogue pack of permed haired fluro bikini wearing molls on the beach, lying together puberty blues style. I see myself opening with 'Do any of yous know a good waxer?' or some other witty statement. They would welcome me, and braid my hair or squeeze my blackheads.

Why I am choosing to fantasize about trashy grade 7 molls is completely beyond me. It's like I'm dying of thirst in the desert and my mirage is of peanut butter. But who really cares, I'm on holiday and my only concern is finding that sweet sweet massaging monkey......