Vignettes of the World
By Kyung-sook Shin The last time that I was aware of the idea of a “Korean farmer” was in 2005, when hordes of them came to Hong Kong to protest against the WTO meeting held here. The Korean farmers organized more than a thousand members …
By Andrea Hirata Laskar Pelangi, meaning the Rainbow Troops in Indonesian, is a title that conveys hope. In this autobiographical novel, Andrea Hirata tells readers about a childhood in the struggling village school of Muhammadiyah Elementary in Beilitong, an island province in Indonesia that had …
Dieng might not be a prime destination in Indonesia for foreign tourists. It may have to do more so with its smell than any other reason, as the mountainous region is known for its naturally occurring sulfur lakes.
On our way we met many savoring sights of Indonesian life. Occasionally we passed by trucks transporting huge mammal livestock, and we the city dwellers would marvel at its novelty. Our route offered an all-around view of the neighboring villages and the agricultural lives that the villagers led. We spotted a harvest-in-progress. Workers were reaping baskets and baskets of cabbage from the field, then loading a field’s worth of them onto their trucks – by throwing them, one by one, to the receiver standing on the truck as if they were passing rugby. That was a novelty to us too.
A half-hour trail led us to a milky, creamy colored body of water. When we treaded closer to the lakeshore, we realized that the water was actually clear and unpolluted. Its pastel appearance came from the chemical settlement on the bottom of the lake. With the limited chemical expertise on board, we could not figure out if the chemical was sulfur. There was no sulfuric pungency that pierced our senses, but surely it was a mighty chemical that gave the lake its unusual texture. One might wonder what grows in this environment. The answer is all kinds: ferns, vines, bushes, trees, floral.
We then stopped by a cultural site with stone structures reminiscent of the Prambanan but on a much smaller scale (we would be visiting Prambanan after Dieng). There was no guide nor introduction, but from the way that the structures were arranged, we could gather that each structure serving different religious purpose was built to face a certain compass direction. What set this religious site apart from the Prambanan, however, was the way that it interacted with the cultivated fields hovering over this site. We met village children playing hide and seek amidst these ancient structures, and a would-be artist or architect sketching the intricacies of what bas relief that remained visible. There was no question that this site used to serve as a prime place of worship for the surrounding villages.
The sulfuric lakes were the first and might be the last that I ever see in this life. Its odor notwithstanding, the sight of sulfuric effervescence impressed greatly upon me, of heat and acid, erosive and exhuming in its path. We could not stand for too long there, but the imagery of a nature resembling hell lingered, as our olfactory senses were overwhelmed by thousands of rotten eggs all put together.
We went to the Ketep pass for a view of Mount Merapi. The Merapi is still active today and we were advised not to climb it. The last eruption took place two years ago. The driver took us to see the face of the volcano …
The Borobodur temple complex is recognized as a world heritage by the UNESCO. Built in the 7th century (AD750-850), it is a Buddhist temple made wholly of stones. The complex is shaped in a square, with four levels and stone carved bas relief depicting each …
In Yogyakarta (known locally as Jogja) we decided to see the Taman Sari (the Water Castle) first. We entered the Castle through the local bird market. It used to sell exotic and illegal birds. There we climbed an old and decrepit wall. When we climbed up the wall we had an aerial view of the city, all of Jogja before our eyes. The aged, archaic feeling was right there through the crumbled stones.
As we were walking toward the Water Castle a local followed us and told us stories of the palace and how the king would watch as his concubines bathed. He would then pick one woman to spend the night with. There was a pool for the sultan and another one for his concubines. We had a debate about whether the women were bathing nude in the pool, and decided that they must have been. Between the pools of the sultan and the concubines was the king’s bedroom. The bed was set on a stove and could be kept warm. We wondered if there was ever a need to keep a bed warm in Indonesia.
We were shown the back court, the kitchen and a sacred quarter where the swords were shined and kept. There were few people at the back quarters and indeed we appreciated this local guide’s unsolicited service. What was the most amazing was the underground mosque with a very special set of stairs in the middle. We walked through the tunneling space and reached every corner (or rather curves, since it was a round structure). The light at that time of the day was perfect. There was just a little bit of rain to keep the place cool and the weather was agreeable.
The sun was about to set but it was too early to have dinner. We toured the University, and saw the arts and social sciences building, the faculty of law, philosophy, medicine and the most beautiful of all, the faculty of agriculture. Illan went to the prayer room at his own office building to pray.
He told us a little about the universities in Indonesia. Back in his time he paid 100 USD a year for university and it was very expensive. Most Indonesians would consider university to be barely affordable and it is very competitive to get in. As a lecturer, he shared an office with another lecturer.
Illan suggested grilled fish for dinner and we ordered six fish, grilled and fried. They were delicious with a truly spicy chilli sauce. Illan ate with his hand and this custom of eating with the hand is so marvelous. I did not think I could ever do that. With grilled eggplants and fried watercress we were full.
After dinner we decided to have grilled bananas for dessert (sort of like the South American plantain). We all huddled cozily on the sitting mats around a large and short-legged coffee table, at a street stall under a canvas, and waited eagerly for the longest time for the bananas to come. “We were just picking the bananas now,” the owner told us. I would have believed him.
Jakarta greeted us with that distinctive character of Southeast Asia, a dampened air mixed with the exhaust of diesel, a metropolis set in the tropical. Tee and Add came with their driver and we decided to go to Kota Dua first. We saw a lot …