Road trips

I remember one day we're riding the 20+ years old black Plymouth to Cimahi. This American car had steering wheel on the left side, while the road was for right-handed cars (British style). Mom was the co-pilot while dad's driving. Her assistances were really needed to check the cars on the opposite direction when we have to passed slow moving cars on the narrow and winding two lanes road. We crossed the wide Citarum river on its yellow-arched steel bridge, then Gunung Masigit region, a mountainous area where the lime stones were mined. The mountains were lush green with some lime stone white slopes. The slow moving trucks hauling lime stones were the regular obstacles there.
Lisa, Etih and I sat on the Plymouth's back that day, and Lisa was leaning over the rusted doors. When the car took a curve, to everyone surprise the door swung open. It was a moment of horror. If it's not for Etih's fast reflex, she would've been thrown out of the car.

After that incident, we rarely used the car anymore. Mom told us one night dad drove us from Cimahi, but dad was so tired and sleepy, so he pulled over somewhere along the way, thinking we're already arrived. Luckily a nice police man were patrolling on his bicycle, and he helped us drove the car home.
The car's tires didn't have any visible threads anymore, so dad couldn't drive it to Jakarta, because there were laws banning such old cars in the country's capital.

Unlike Lisa, who couldn't take long road trips without vomiting in the car, I was much hardier and quieter kid, so my parents used to took me alone when visiting relatives. One dawn before new year, my dad and I hitched a ride on a rice truck, then we took a public bus to his mom's place in Jakarta for new year party, which also happens to be grandma's birthday. The journey took over 8 hours, with many stops, taking on any new passengers waving on the side of the road, or dropping them off anywhere along the road. We stopped on the bus terminal at Cianjur, where the hawkers jumped on the bus, selling peanut, tofu, or cigarettes. At Cipanas the bus stopped at Roda, a Padang restaurant where almost everyone get off for supper. We didn't get off, as usual my dad snoozed on and off through journey. He told me to look for the big billboard sign near my grandma's house, which of course I missed. Next time he woke up, we already few km away, so have to go back on an oplet, small car with varnished plywood sides (Morris or Opel) converted to be used as public minibus. Later on I learned which city along the road from the type of public transportation on the street. Bogor has "bemo", a funny looking car converted from Vespa scooter. It has three wheels, Vespa scooter steering handle, and two row of side facing passenger seats that could crammed 6 adults. Jakarta has the oplet, and "Helicak", another funny looking vehicle. I guess the name came from helicopter and "becak" (man powered three wheel rickshaw). The helicak is a motorized becak with passenger cabin styled like a helicopter.
Grandma's house, on an area called kampung Makasar, somewhere between Jakarta and Bogor, belonged to my uncle encek Eng Giok. Only my grandma and my auntie, oh (fraternal younger auntie) Mit lived there, while encek Eng Giok lived in the city with his family. It was a big house with many dogs, which I called sheep at the beginning, because I never saw a dog in my whole life. There were also a pair of beautiful peacock. They could detect visitors at the front gate and made a loud cry, much earlier before the dogs barked. Grandma taught me to feed them raw chilies grown on the yard. On the front yard there are some old cars, a fishing boat, and a gold fish pond.