makassar: where even the humidity has a pulse
so i'm sitting here sweating through my third t-shirt in makassar, and not just from the drum solo i nailed last night. i just checked and it's basically like breathing soup out here-90% thick enough to chew on. if that's your thing, cool. but also? the pressure's dropping like a bad relationship at sea level. perfect weather for staying indoors or melting into the pavement, take your pick.
landed here for a last-minute session at *studio naga-they needed someone who could handle complex rhythms without losing their mind in the heat. which is tough when your cymbals start clanging like they're begging for mercy. after 14 hours in a van full of gear that smelled like old socks and regret, i stumbled into this warung near the harbor. someone told me that the grilled fish at warung pantai is so fresh the eyes follow you around. and they weren't lying. found it through this local food board where some dude claimed it's 'where locals go to stare at the ocean while pretending to diet'.
the city's got this energy like it's permanently stuck between a tropical fever dream and a colonial ghost story. if you get bored, parepare is just a short drive away-heard it's got better AC and fewer stray dogs judging your drumstick technique. also found this tiny jazz bar called the echo chamber where the bartender served me a drink that tasted like regret and lime. their yelp page is basically one star from a guy who says the bouncer looked at him funny. then i overheard this gem while waiting for a ride:
'don't take the blue boat to the islands unless you want to see how many ways a person can sweat through three shirts in one trip. also? bring extra drum heads. the humidity eats them for breakfast.'
spent yesterday wandering through fort rotterdam-stones so old they've got moss growing on their memories. a local warned me that the 'ancient cannons' are actually replicas from the 90s, but the real ghosts hang out in the spice cellar. this review says it's 'less haunted, more humid tourist trap', which feels accurate. then i got lost in losari beach* at sunset and saw like 200 people doing synchronized staring at the water. it was hypnotic. probably should've filmed it for this indie film site but my phone died from the sheer moisture in the air.
'if you hear someone shouting about missing beats? that's probably me. also? avoid the street food near the bus station. my stomach's still doing a solo performance called 'regret'.'
gonna try to sleep now. probably won't. because the humidity's basically a blanket made of wet paper towels. and my sticks are starting to warp. but hey-at least the rain hasn't started yet. that's tomorrow's problem. or maybe in five minutes. who knows here.
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