Yulianus Irwan

I’ve been working as a tour guide in Flores for around five years now. Working as a hotel receptionist, teaching in secondary school, and even as a hotel manager in Labuan Bajo were all part of my life experience, but just a build-up to finding the vocation I’m really passionate about, my current job. Working as a tourist guide is something that has given me so many great lessons. Meeting many new people, learning many new things and travelling around are so very exciting. It was very hard to get established and known as a tour guide, but once I got started I was lucky enough to get some great guests who were kind enough to recommend and publicize me, and through word of mouth and social media I have become known and widely recommended, for which I’m immensely grateful.  I can truly say, my relationship with clients is not just of customer and servant, but relationships frequently building deep friendships which have endured over years. Indeed, several of my clients have come back to F

Right at the beginning of 2021, I started my travel stories by visiting my hometown, the village where my parents came from. The names are Wakos and Ntangis. Wakos is the village where my father is from and Ntangis is the village where my mother came from. These two villages are located in East Manggarai Regency, in a valley surrounded by a row of hills north of the city of Borong, the capital of East Manggarai regency. These two villages are close to each other, about 4 km away and only bordered by a fairly well-known river, Wae Bobo, which empties into the South Sea of Flores, namely the Sawu Sea. With a distance of about 50 km from the city of Ruteng and a travel time of about 2 hours, I rode a motorcycle that has accompanied my journey for years. This trip was not an ordinary trip, but more than that, a trip with the aim of praying at the funeral of our ancestors which we often call in Manggarai " tutung Lilin"  or lighting a candle at a funeral. For me and my famil

Celebrating Christmas For the first time in 3 years, I could spend Christmas with my family in Ruteng. The last 3 years, I spent Christmas away from home for works, to guide people around Flores. Since covid-19 hit, tourism activities are not busy anymore that made me having lots of time to stay at home to spend Christmas with family. Christmas for me and family refer to dried cakes, tart, and pork. This part has always been a tradition since I was kid. The talks over the cakes making was about sharing memory about our childhood during Christmas. My mom and I while pressing the batter reminisced about I and my brother who were always frustrated when my mom used to ask us to go to the neighbor to borrow some cooking stuffs to make cakes like baking oven, mixer, and cake maker. This was always been the frustrating part for us. Every time we went to borrow their belongings, we faced the fact that the neighbors were also busy in making their own cakes, we had to wait till we were a

The maniac’s machete gleamed in the moonlight as he ran slashing madly from house to house through the village, his terrifying screams resounding through the lanes. Panicked villagers fled wildly as his manic screams never stopped, until finally the cool hand of my roommate slowly shook me out of my nightmare as he passed by my bed. I was woken earlier than usual from my deep sleep, a very satisfying one which was unusual while I was away from home, but fractured by a combination of dreams connected to facts. The screams in my dreams actually came from neighbours drinking “ sopi ” (a local alcoholic drink) from their “Penti” thanksgiving ceremony. I also slowly realized I wasn’t at home, but in the house of Pastor Ino Sutam. I needed a warm drink when I woke up. I made sure I had my sarong with me as I threaded my way quietly through those still sleeping on the floor nearby, as the morning was cold in this mountain village of Tere, our last stop before trekking to Golo Mompong. I w