One of the best things about trekking into the jungles of Siberut Island was the opportunity it afforded me to become completely, refreshingly bored. Experiencing this kind of boredom – and coming to terms with it in an attentive, creative away – is, in fact, one of the time-honored gifts of travel.
The rise of the commercial travel industry has, I think, led too many travelers to believe that being bored on the road is akin to failure. Hence, consumer vacation itineraries tend to be packed with activities – and even Agus, my freelance guide in Siberut, made sure that my days in the jungle were filled with opportunities to witness Mentawai folkways such as sago-processing, stream-fishing, and the gathering of wild herbs. Part of truly experiencing Mentawai culture, however, is coming to terms with the fact that nobody here organizes their hours in the same micromanaged sense we have come to see as essential in the industrialized world.
Even the local enterprises Agus showed me were, while true enough to Mentawai culture, more or less performed for my benefit. By mid-afternoon of each day in the jungle I found myself back at my host’s house with no real sense for what I should do next. It was not, in fact, until I stopped feeling antsy – until I stopped saying to myself, “OK so now what do I do?” – that I began to truly appreciate where I was.
Of the many ways I learned to sit still and embrace boredom in the jungle, my favorite was sitting in a little splash-pool about 50 meters upstream from my host’s house. I got into the habit of floating in the water there for about an hour each afternoon, the jungle brilliant green all around me, beams of sunlight angling in through the canopy, metallic-red dragonflies flitting over the surface of the pool, tiny fish nibbling at my skin under the water.
Sitting there, doing nothing, the lizards and birds and shy macaques of the jungle began to reveal themselves to me in ways no sightseeing itinerary could have provided.
I miss that little pool – and a part of me wishes every place had one, so I could jump in, embrace my boredom, and let my surroundings reveal themselves in ways I hadn’t considered.
Note: “Dispatches” are short vignettes, profiles, and mini-essays written and posted from the road, often in tandem with my Instagram account. For more full-formed writing, check out my book Marco Polo Didn’t Go There, or the Essays or Stories archives on this site. I don’t host a “comments” section, but I’m happy to hear your thoughts via my Contact page.
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