Don't beware of the Bugis man

I fought the law - Buro village – But don’t beware of the Boogey Man

I fought the law, well at least bumped fists with it. 

As we were whisked along channel between outlying Tengah Island and Buru Island in our Zodiacs to the village of the Bugis peoples, just off the west coast of Buru (Good luck finding it on a map!), the unfeasibly picturesque village of Tengah Madan came into view. 

Scary arsed policeman

Greeted by hordes of kids as ever, we were just in time to miss the official presentation from the village. Free to walk around and explore, we were quickly stopped by a scary arsed policeman; red beret, shades, balaclava and small sidearm. 

And what did he want? 
A selfie with me. 

He was called Bringas and he spoke a little English. Agreed it was way too hot to be wearing that kit.

I asked him how they said Hello in local language. "Salaam Alikom"! was the answer.
 Same as in Morocco I thought. They speak a dialect of Arabic – so spoke a (very) few words that I had learned on my travels, which, as is often the case, delighted Bringas and we became instant friends. Just learning a few words of the local language wherever you go can pay such huge dividends, giving you an instant (and much appreciated) connection to your hosts. 

I wandered around the village meeting many many children and others. Highlights included:
•    A small boy with Chelsea shirt (Pulisic)
•    Many fine chickens
•    Reams of kids and some adults wanting a selfie ( usually not a selfie just a photo)
•    Lots of fish drying
•    A boardwalk along the stilt houses. The boardwalk was hugely picturesque, over the waters edge full of anemones and huge schools of small fish, past many fishing boats and a lot of fish drying 
•    As ever, plenty of small boys happy to leap into the water for the camera.

The village is inhabited by sea gypsy people (Bugis), though their stilt houses looked fairly permanent, especially the new concrete ones.

Literally. Bumped into my old friend Bringas, by now demasked, with three colleagues of his and their boss. Five policeman for this one village? Apparently. 

We were invited to take tea with the entire police force – How could we refuse?

Conversation was a chaotic blend of broken English, scraps of Bahasa, and the odd Arabic word thrown in for good measure. Much laughter. They asked how tall you must be to be a policeman in the UK. I exaggerated wildly — “Six foot three!” — which left them wide eyed. I mimed the British truncheon too, explaining that our police don’t carry guns. 

Most houses have huge satellite dish. If we hang around until 15.00 we can watch Premier League (pronounced Prremeyer Leguay).

You can’t put that in a brochure.

See our monents that you can't put in a brochure.