Getting to the Point

Indonesia…makes me cry and makes me laugh, usually at the same time. Today was no different.

One aspect of our research is finding village border points. Today our objective was to find one point (Red Water River) which marks the border between Muara Kayong and a neighboring village named Sepahan. We started by taking motorbikes to the neighboring village, hoping to find a guide who could tell us how to get to Red Water River (Sungai Air Merah, in Indonesian). Upon arrival in the house of the head of the village, about 20 men stopped by to google at the buleh and offer their advice about how to get to the border point. After some discussion, we set out to find the point, which was apparently in the middle of an oil palm plantation. The group consisted of 6 motorbikes, four with men from Sepahan and two with guides from Muara Kayong. After driving around the oil palm plantation for about 2 hours, we finally found a small trickle of water that the men claimed was Red Water River. So we thanked our guides and returned home before lunch.

Unfortunately, the point was obviously incorrect when we visualized it on the computer. As we were discussing how to find the correct location, a local village man randomly stopped by the house to say hello to the head of village (this happens frequently in Indonesia). He claimed he knew the location of Red Water River. The way to get there? Travel by motorbike to Sepahan, get in a motorboat, drive the motorboat two hours into the forest on a small river, pass by two lakes on the way, take the right fork of the river, and finally arrive at the desired border point. After confirming that our informer was sure (absolutely sure!) about this location, we started on the journey. The trip was gorgeous – through peat swamp forest which had been logged but otherwise untouched. Along the way we saw monkeys, hornbills, snakes and crocodiles. Unfortunately, after all this effort was for naught – again the point was impossibly far away from the expected location.

As an American, this sort of experience is frustrating: why would someone send us on a wild goose chase, to an absolutely wrong place? I have yet to find the answer to this question. But I’ve gotten to the point where I can live with these mishaps with smiles and patience, because this is daily life in Indonesia.

Muara Kayong

Our eighth village is Muara Kayong. It is located on the Pawan river, which is chock-full of water right now due to nightly rains. I love living by large rivers because it means that bathing and using the WC are more pleasant experiences – instead of sharing a small river with many other users, each house has its own bathing spot, complete with a private toilet. As an added benefit, I can go swimming each evening when I bathe!

The most interesting aspect of Muara Kayong is it’s large, 10-year old oil palm plantation. My first day in the field we mapped the palm plantation, and for the first time (after over a year of studying oil palm) I saw mature oil palm and the fruit itself. Fresh fruit bunches are the raw product from oil palm trees. They are just that: bunches of palm fruits, growing where a coconut would on a coconut tree, between the leaves of the palm and the trunk. The fruits are quite pretty, red-orange-brown, the size of a plum, and very easy to harvest. The big drawback of oil palm fruit is the speed with which it must be processed – to make high quality palm oil, fruit must arrive at the factory within 24 hours of harvest. Unfortunately for Muara Kayong, the factory that supports their plantation doesn’t have a very large capacity, and much of the fruit goes to waste or is converted to low quality, low value oil.

Telok Parak

Back to the field. Our seventh village is named Telok Parak, and is one of my favorite places to work. The village is tiny – maybe 70 households total – and does not have electricity. I think there are more children here than in any of the villages I’ve lived in so far. Children have funny reactions to me; some are afraid and scream and cry when they see me, others are shy but curious, and others follow me around. In Telok Parak the kids are of the following type – within ½ hour of arrival I had three 10 year old boys trailing me upstairs, downstairs, around the village, and even to mandi (bathe) in the river with me!

We finished in Telok Parak in record time, only two days of field work and tomorrow we go to a new village, Muara Kayong. Right now it is rice growing season (the rains have started, and the planting is finished) so walking around rice fields is relatively easy compared to last month, when the fields were filled with logs and brush. The agricultural system here is to cut down forest, let the trees and brush dry, burn the cut wood, and then plant rice. Walking in fields of cut trees is not an easy job, but walking through fields of padi simply requires carefully stepping.

End of Idul Fitri and Back to the Field!

Hello readers, sorry for the lack of posting lately ... being in foreign language school really puts a damper on my ability to write in English. I returned to Pontianak from Yogya yesterday, and travelled straight to Ketapang, where I am staying the night before heading to our field site tomorrow.

So ... don't expect any blog entries for a while. I'll be back to a computer Nov 5-7, talk to you then!

Caving

My last Saturday in Yogya was spent hanging out with the Realia teachers and students. We started the day with a trip to a cave in Bantul. As usual in this country, our transportation was a flock of motorbikes. My first time traveling in Java on a motorbike, I was struck by the beauty of the place – the countryside is filled to the brim with green rice fields, cows, and a few scattered trees. The water management system here is amazing. Although there had been no rain in the area for over a month, the rice fields were still filled with water, and bright green. The only sign of drought was trees with yellow or sometimes absent leaves.

We drove almost to the top of a hill, parked the bikes, and after donning headlamps or flashlights entered the cave. True to other caves I’ve been in, there were stalagmites, stalactites, bats, and plenty of water. We were wet up to the knees within minutes of starting the trip. The footing was rough, so the walk was very slow. The cave was not particularly remarkable compared to the Lewis and Clark Caverns in Montana (my only other serious caving experience), but it was fun to splash around in the dark with my friends and teachers for a couple of hours.

After returning to the world of light, we were starving and headed to an AMAZING vegetarian restaurant. I didn’t realize such places existed in Indonesia. I was in heaven, eating beet salad, a mushroom crepe, and ginger drink. In Indonesia, salads are a rarity, probably because uncooked vegetables carry bacteria that can make you sick. I was in heaven =)

We wrapped up the evening by going to a movie box. Think movie theater, but private. Our group picked a movie (comedy), ordered food, and sat down in our own private room complete with couch, wall-sized screen, and surround sound. Do movie boxes exist in America? Such a good idea, they should…

Karaoke

Yesterday the Realia teachers, myself, and some fellow students had a karaoke night to celebrate a birthday. We rented a room and sung for two hours. Indonesians are amazing: they manage to have crazy, goofy parties, sans alcohol. This included our karaoke excursion – we were dancing and singing at the top of our lungs, without the aid of -OH. Previous to last night, I’d never been to a karaoke event without alcohol. Apparently drugs are not necessary to the karaoke spirit. Go Indonesia!

Hotel Mercure

Given the lack of internet, I decided to take a plunge and book myself a room in a ritzy hotel (which has in-room internet access, such a luxury!!) for a couple nights. I feel like I’m in air conditioned paradise. The hotel was built in 1918, and stepping into the front entrance is like traveling back in time into the colonial era when the Dutch still occupied Indonesia. One of the lovely things about coming to Indonesia from America is the fact that (almost – excluding electronics) everything is super-cheap. This five star hotel cost me about $50 per night, during the busiest holiday of the year.

For the first time while I’ve been in Yogya, I was able to seriously work on my computer – reading papers, taking notes, feeling like a grad student again instead of a traveler in Indonesia. Working is probably the biggest challenge I face as a grad student here – the environment in most places is simply not conducive to writing or computer work.

The hotel is conveniently located near the famous Malioboro street, which is filled with touristy batik stores, lots of street food, and a traditional market selling everything from live chickens to peppers to hand carved furniture. I took a walk Sunday afternoon and just looked. Everyone is on holiday, and the atmosphere was very relaxed, with few “hello misters” or stares. I ate Es Durian (yes, just like it sounds – ice plus durian plus coconut milk…mmmm) and sate (which is actually an Indonesian/Malay dish, although it is more often found in Thai restaurants). Then back to my computer to continue work…

Idul Fitri

I spent the holiday of Idul Fitri in Yogya. Idul Fitri is the celebration that follows the month of fasting (Ramadan). As far as I can tell, Idul Fitri is the equivalent of Christmas in America. Everyone goes home to their families, eats lots of food, shops are closed, kids get money and clothes as gifts, and travel can be hellacious.

The holiday begins when the new moon can be seen. This is a matter of some debate, and has a funny effect: some Muslims celebrate Hari Raya (King Day, the day after breaking fast) on Friday, and the others celebrate on Saturday. Why? There are two major Muslim organizations in Indonesia. One calculates the appearance of the new moon, while the other uses powerful telescopes to visualize the moon. This year, the calculations and the visualization conflicted, and Hari Raya was celebrated on two different days, depending on which Muslim organization people chose to follow. Thus some people were still fasting on Friday, while others were already stuffing themselves with food! Traditional food for Idul Fitri includes kecapan, rice wrapped in leaves and boiled, as well as a chicken coconut curry.

My host family here in Yogya is Muslim, and the whole family was in town to celebrate; my host mother has 5 children, who all have spouses, who all have kids, so the house was filled with people! After about an hour of being social, I tried to escape to an internet café to work, only to find that almost all businesses are closed during this holiday. This was unfortunate, given that I’m trying to finish a grant application and require online access.

Gunung Merapi

Right now the time is 4 pm, Saturday afternoon. I haven’t slept since Friday at 5 am. Why? Last night I, along with other Realia students, hiked Gunung Merapi ("Mountain of Fire"), a volcanic mountain that towers over Yogyakarta. The mountain erupts frequently (the last time was 2006, when people along the slopes of the mountain were evacuated because of active lava flows) but is relatively quiet right now. The summit is about 2900 meters above sea level. See pictures here.

We began our journey at 10 pm Friday night, when a van and driver picked us up in Yogya and brought us along a windy road up into the mountains. We arrived in Selo, a small village on the slopes of Merapi, at about midnight. Sleepy and a bit disoriented, we piled into a small house and were offered tea and arak (hard alcohol made from rice). The arak was a surprise to me, because most people I’ve met in Jawa are Muslim and do not drink alcohol. Our hosts were drinking the arak with red bull and coke! I wonder if they learned this technique from foreign friends…

After hanging out at the house until 1 pm, we started the hike. The group consisted of: two guides, myself, Dessy, two women from Canada, and two men from Canada. Everyone was in high spirits as we started, and there was plenty of talking and laughing, at least for the first hundred-or-so feet of the climb. The steep slope and high elevation (we started the hike at around 1000 meters asl) affected everyone’s ability to converse, and the party became quiet as we started concentrating on breathing and finding good footholds on the slippery trail.

The hike was dreamlike for me: in the dark, quiet, with just a bit of moon and starlight and headlamps when the trail got rocky. It was hard to tell what kind of land use we were traveling through (given the darkness of the night) but my impression was of hiking through terraced agriculture fields. The walk was very steep, and as we climbed the temperature became almost uncomfortably cold. At about 2:30 am we heard the calls from the mosque in the village below, announcing the morning meal before puasa. One of our guides was planning to fast the coming day, so he ate and drank at this time.

At 4:30 am we arrived at a small plateau from which we could see the top of the mountain not too far above. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten, and we googled at the landscape of Java covered with clouds and dotted with old volcanoes. One of the guides and I decided to continue to the top of the mountain to see sunrise, while the rest of the party stayed below. As we walked up the hill I used my newly-learned Indonesian language to ask our guide all the questions I could think of. Perhaps the most interesting answers he gave were about his life: he grew up on Irian Jaya (Papua) but moved to Java about six years ago because his parents wanted to return to their native island (they were “transmigrated” to Papua by a government relocation program).

After a demanding and steep hike over a rocky slope, we finally reached the summit in time to rest and see the sun rise, a spectacular site. The top of the mountain is obviously volcano, with yellow sulfur deposits all around and rotten-egg-smelling steam spouting from the rocks. The top of the mountain was totally silent – no wind, no noise from the villages below, no talking. I’ve very rarely experienced such absolute and spectacular lack of noise. After taking sunrise pictures to my heart’s content, we made our way down the mountain, back to reality and the business of the city.

Borobodur

This morning Dessy and I took a class fieldtrip to Borobodur, which used to be one of the seven wonders of the world (although it is not longer on the list – trumped by Angkor Wat in Cambodia, I think). Borobodur is a Buddhist temple built in the 9^th century by Mahayana Buddhists, and later abandoned and covered by volcanic ash and tropical forest. The story of the temple’s existence was passed from generation to generation on Java, until an English governor in the early 1800s rediscovered and uncovered the monument.

Dessy, myself, and two guides from Realia arrived at the monument at about 9 am before there were many tourists in the area. Like many tourist traps, the grounds were crawling with vendors selling their wares, and I felt a bit like a mouse in an open field, vulnerable to the vulture-like vendors who followed our group until the official trail to the temple where they are not allowed to enter. After shaking the vendors, we were able to take our first look at the temple or chandi as they say in the Indonesian language.

My first impression? The temple is in great condition; it was renovated by UNESCO about 20 years ago and the renovation replaced the missing stones and contributed to the longevity of the structure. Compared to the temples I saw in Thailand last year (which were built in the same time period) this temple is in fabulous shape.

The chandi is covered with about 500 stupas that contain buddha figures (and traditionally also buddha relics), and consists of eight levels, representing the eight steps to enlightenment. The lower levels are richly decorated with narrative relief depicting stories such as the life of Buddha. The most interesting part of the temple is the main stupa, which is not decorated like the rest of the building. Some people think the lack of decoration represents the lack of worldly ties of the last level of enlightenment. Others think that construction was simply not yet complete when the chandi was covered by ash. I prefer to believe the former.

After lots of photos and laughing (four girls all with good senses of humor make for a fun morning) we left the temple and headed home. In theory this was supposed to be an Indonesian-learning experience, but in my mind it was tourism, which I’ve done very little of so far in Indonesia. I’m packing in the tourist experiences today – this evening we are leaving to climb Gunung Merapi (an active volcano in the region) to see sunrise from the summit. More soon!

Realia Party - Buka Puasa

Yesterday I joined in the fast again, because my language school was hosting a “buka puasa” celebration for students and teachers. See pictures here. After fasting all day, again a challenge for me (this time because I didn’t manage to eat much at 3 am due to the early hour and my lack of appetite), we gathered at the school at about 5:30 pm. Everyone sat in a circle on the ground and one of the female English teachers opened the gathering with some nice words in Indonesian…and asked me to translate to English! Eek. Without butchering her meaning too much, I managed to translate for everyone. This was an empowering experience, and showed me how far my language has come from four months ago when I arrived barely knowing how to say “good afternoon”.

Next, everyone in the room politely attacked the large table of food and drink provided for breaking the fast. I gulped down a few glasses of water and then savored the sensation of food…eating is so satisfying when its been 14 hours since your last meal!

After a fun and social time at the school, many of the younger teachers and students headed to a nearby restaurant called “Special Sambal.” This is my favorite place to eat in Yogya because it has a nice atmosphere (sitting on the ground on mats with all light coming from candles or lamps), cheap food (about $2 for a huge meal), and very spicy options (about 20 different kinds of chile paste…yum yum). We hung out here for hours, talking and playing silly games. The atmosphere was wonderfully normal – almost like hanging out with good friends from the US, and I realize now how much I’ve been missing this kind of easy and fun social interaction while in Indonesia.