Tana Toraja Part 1: Ritual Ceremony and the Cult of the Dead

           

Fig.1 A skull among bones at the hanging graves of Londa,
Tana Toraja, Sulawesi

One of the most intriguing cultures I've encountered here in Indonesia so far are the Torajan people of south Sulawesi. Tucked away in the isolated mountain lands of Sulawesi island, they have, until relatively recently, remained cut off from the outside world and their unique culture has remained quite unchanged for centuries. As recently as just forty years ago, these people adopted Christianity (albeit in a very modified way) on a large scale, their first real contact with missionaries only beginning in 1913 through Dutch colonial expansion. Prior to this, and still today, it was animism which dominated Tana Toraja, ‘Land of the Toraja’. Though Christianity is said to be the official religion of most Torajans today, from my experience it has been only nominally adopted. A strong sense of tradition and solid connection to the past means that ancestral worship and animal sacrifice prevail as central elements of the culture. Due to this relationship to the ancestors, who are often seen as demi-gods, a cult of the dead developed among the people early on. Ritual and custom surrounding the preparation and treatment of the dead exists like this nowhere else in the world and influences every aspect of life for these people from the moment they are born. Little is published about this culture, at least in English, so most of my sources come from the contacts I met there and the few sources I was able to find subsequently. Given the importance of understanding several aspects of the culture, I will divide my article into three parts. Part two will discuss the various funeral types and burial places through the lens of my own experience there. Part three will focus on the importance of community and the Tongkonan (ancestral family house). However, this first part is an overview of the belief system and the importance of the cult of the dead itself.  

Aluk Todolo: ‘The ways of the ancestors’

            Though Christianity has undoubtedly influenced the way in which the old religion is practiced today, it does remain largely intact if not in full practice, at least in the minds of the people. Originally called Aluk Pitung Sa’Bu Pita Ratu’Pitung Pulo Pitu or the 7777 belief or ways of life (Achsin 1991, p29), it was not only a religious system but entailed the entire custom of the people, indicating everything from religious cosmology and the observance of ritual down to house building and societal values. For this article, I will only focus on cosmology and ritual.

            Like many religions the world over, the cosmology of Aluk Todolo is based on a three tiered system: The upper world (sky), the earth and the underworld (centre of the earth). Inhabiting these divisions are three classes of deity, some with their own sub-divisions. The highest power is the creator god known as Puang Matua who inhabits the highest sphere of the upper world and must be appeased by the living to ensure safe passage of their loved ones to the afterlife or Puya. The second group are the Deata, essentially containing the animist spirits who inhabit every living and non-living object. They are sub-divided into Deata Tangngana Langi’ (sky gods), Deata Kapadangana (earth gods) and Deata Tangngana Padang (gods of the centre of the earth). The third group, the focus of the article, are the Todolo (ancestors) who, if given the correct burial rituals, can become demi-gods called Tomembali Puang or ‘those who become gods’. In addition to the ‘Four Principles’ which instruct on the observance of certain rituals, the treatment of flora and fauna and the usage of living space, this represents the first ‘seven’ in the 7777 belief system. Dualism (light-dark, happy-sad, life –death etc.) and the cardinal directions also play a strong part in life and ritual as does, to a certain extent, belief in black magic. However, it is in the rituals and practices associated with the dead ancestors, Tomembali Puang, that the religion seems to have most endured and is given its greatest expression.

 Treatment of the dead  

            When a person dies in Tana Toraja, it begins a long and expensive process for the family to send them to the afterlife where they will hopefully achieve demi-god status. No expense is spared as to have an ancestor as a demi-god is seen to be of great benefit to the living descendants. In this position, the ancestor can guide and protect their descendants and bestow blessings on them throughout their remaining lives. Even better, is to have a long line of ancestors to lay claim to and revere, therefore increasing the amount of these blessings. Given the prospect of such ancestral protection, it comes as little surprise that their dead bodies are given the utmost respect and care leading up to and during the extensive rituals and for a long time after. To ensure the safe journey of the spirit and its access to demi-god status (becoming Tomembali Puang) in the afterlife, the creator god Puang Matua must be properly appeased. Depending on the social caste of the person (there is a four caste system, similar to India), this largely involves animal sacrifice, particularly that of the sacred water buffalo.

Fig.2 A rare (and highly prized) white
headed buffalo

            Most of the major parts of the death rituals (rituals of sadness being collectively called Rambu Solo’) are held at and in front of the ancestral family home or Tongkonan. A Toma’ Balun or death specialist oversees all the ritual proceedings. The impressive Tongkonan structures made of wood and shaped like the prows of a ship on stilts, are of central importance to communities and serve as a form of social identity. I will talk more about these in part three. If the person is high born, or ‘Gold Stick’, there is a certain level of ritual sacrifice and ceremony expected of their family to ensure the soul will achieve the same level of status in the afterlife as they had in life. The Toraja believe that the souls of the animals and objects sacrificed on earth will join and serve the dead person. Buffalo, which are highly prized as ritually important animals in this capacity, are raised almost exclusively for funeral sacrifice not even allowed to be worked in fields. They are washed regularly by their owners and, even in times of hunger (so our guide told us) they will never be killed for food. The fact that they are seen as representations of wealth in this society (in life and death) might explain their ritual importance and can cost up to $10,000, especially the rarer white spotted and albino buffalo.

            Since a full perfect ritual ceremony (reserved and required for the high caste people) can involve the sacrifice of up to a hundred buffalo, these events are considerably expensive, but necessary for a family. Even lower caste people have high pressure on them to provide the adequate amount of animal sacrifice for their ancestor to pass on correctly. For this reason, the dead person can remain unburied for a long time as money (and particularly buffalo which embody wealth itself) is needed before the ceremony can be performed. In light of this and in accordance with the belief system, the dead person is merely seen as ‘sick’ until the proper offerings can be made. Sometimes taking as long as a year, the dead body is kept in the family house or Tongkonan until the day of the ceremony. During this time, the body is treated as if it were still alive, being lain in the east-west direction (as the living lay in sleep) and even spoken to. One must ask permission of the dead person to enter or leave the house and the body is often seated in an upright position being dressed and fed as a sick person would be. Although they are embalmed, there is of course often an odour of decay but no one can comment on this for fear of insulting the body. Once the ceremony has been performed (which can take up to two weeks itself), the body is then laid in a north-south orientation, thereby signifying they have now passed on and can be formally considered dead. At this point they are carried to the family tomb.

Fig.3  Skulls stacked neatly in a cave burial north of Rantepao,
Tana Toraja, Sulawesi

            Even after the burial in rock cut tombs (I will talk about these later), the body is continually revered to ensure the spirit does not forget the living and to show respect. This reverence comes in the form of supplementary ceremonies. The first is Ma’balik Tomate or the turning over of the dead. This can occur weeks or months after the burial and involves the family removing the body and turning it over before returning it to the tomb. Every time the tomb is opened, an additional sacrifice of a pig is required to secure permission. Following this are various others, often involving removal of the body, changing of the wrappings and the leaving of offerings of food and drink. Many years down the line, if the dead person is still actively remembered, their bare bones will continue to be removed periodically and cleaned. If the burial casket or shroud has degraded to a poor enough state, the skulls and remaining bones, are often stacked neatly on rocks or ledges to prevent them being lost to time and to ensure they can be easily found by future generations. This is all in the hopes that the ancestor, now a demi-god, will remember their descendants’ efforts.

            The journey of the spirit to Puya (the place they achieve demi-god status) involves a lot of waiting and status assertion. Puya is thought to be situated far to the southern horizon and it’s entrance gate is on top of a mountain called Bambapuang. When spirits reach the gate, “...they are instructed to call out their social position and personal disposition...The souls are asked if the funeral ceremony has been carried out and the type that was celebrated” (Achsin 1991, p46). No entrance to Puya is permitted until the correct ceremony (including the follow up ceremonies) for their social caste has been performed.

           

Conclusion 

All of this may seem unusual to many people, but it is important to understand it in the context of the belief system of which it is built around. The influence the ancestral spirits have on the world of the living is very real and tangible in the minds of the Toraja. To ignore tradition, even after the influence of Christianity, risks loosing an identity. Every family member has the unquestionable obligation to save for and give money toward, not only funerals, but the rebuilding of ancestral houses and the maintenance of their society. As family connections can branch out a long way through extended families, this contribution can be very frequently required. However, this also promotes the need for having large families so costs can be more evenly distributed among members. The sense of a close knit community, bonded together though mutual responsibility and respect for each other is an ever present element in this fascinating group of people. Though Western materialistic values have begun to seep into the core of the Torajans today, it is their proud willingness to preserve and maintain the Aluk Todolo, or ‘ways of the ancestors’, that allows such a rare culture to continue into the modern age. As for us all, a strong sense of the past is what gives us our identity today, and I think no one knows this better than the people of Tana Toraja.


Bibliography

Adams, K.M. (1997) ‘Ethnic Tourism and the Renegotiation of Tradition in Tana Toraja (Sulawesi, Indonesia)’ in Ethnology, vol. 36, no. 4 (pp309-30), University of Pittsburgh of the Commonwealth System of Higher Education.

Waterson, R. (1995) 'Houses, Graves and the Limits of Kinship Groupings among the Sa'dan Toraja' in Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde (pp 194-217), Deel 151, KITLV, Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Carribbean Studies.

Achsin, Amir (1991) Toraja: Tonkonan and Ritual Ceremony, Ananda Graphia Press, Ujung Padang, South Sulawesi, Indonesia.

Pelabuhan Ratu and My Encounter with the Queen of the South Java Sea

In my now five months of living on Java, I have found it to be a place of both strict religious observation but also a land haunted by superstition. Alongside earnest adherence to the Muslim faith and it's rites, there exists stories of ghosts and semi-deities that must also be appeased in their own way. In my time here as an English teacher, my students often recant the legends of Pocong, the Indonesian hopping ghost trapped in its burial shroud or Kuntilanak, the spirit of a woman who died while pregnant, looking much like the typical Asian spirit with long black hair over the face and a white dress. At first, I thought these stories were considered just that, stories, with no one giving them any real consideration. Like vampire folklore in the west. While this is true for many modern people here, it does not seem so for the majority. These spirits, and others like them, are very firmly believed in, often accompanied by ritualistic practices of sorts to appease them or honour them. Nowhere has this mindset been  made more clear to me, than on my last trip to the coastal town of Pelabuhan Ratu on southern Java, a town which still honours and lays claim to the origin of a famous sea spirit. It was a glimpse into Java's ancient past, a past that remains deep in the minds of it's people today.

A Surfer's Paradise
My journey there began like many others I've had now on Java, crammed into the back of an overcrowded minivan on the road for about eight hours. Escaping Jakartan traffic was an adventure in itself as we slowly made our way south, on through Bogor and into the mountains, past still-active volcanoes and the jungle lined landscape beyond. Again I noticed that on Java, you are never far from people as houses and buildings seemed to continuously drift past our windows.

Arriving at the reasonable time of 8pm, we eagerly exited our vehicle which had been our uncomfortable home for the last eight hours and made our way into the hotel lobby. On the long journey, our Indonesian friend Danny, had been explaining a little about what the area was famous for. Many people come here for the beautiful white beaches with signs of volcanic sediment still in its grains, for surfing, he said. By all accounts, it was a popular spot for weekend travellers from all over, especially those seeking to escape the hectic urban life in Jakarta. But it was also famous for something else. We had all heard the stories from our students (all of us being teachers) of the Queen of the South Sea. "You cannot wear green", they said, "or she will take you away". This seemed like such an amusing eccentricity to most of us, just another legend. Dani informed us that most of the hotels here even keep a room vacant for the mysterious spirit queen, in case she may ever return. We found this hard to believe of course, and I dismissed it as just a joke.

Entering the lobby of our hotel we were greeted by a strange surprise. There, in the corner, hung a large painting of a woman with black hair and in a dark green dress, surrounded by ocean waves which seemed to engulf her. Her eyes staring out lustfully as she held in her hand, close to her breast, a small white flower. At first it shocked me a little. It seemed so unusual. It was clear then who this was. But was it all just a way to cash in on the tourists, like they do with Dracula in Transylvania? Or was this a sign of a peoples earnest belief, indeed fear, of a supernatural deity from a time in their distant past?

Nyai Roro Kidul
After a quick check in, we made our way to the hotel restaurant which overlooked the beach and bay, dimly lit by the full silver moon. This was why we came, you see. It was the summer solstice and the moon was at its biggest, like the eye of some mystical giant staring down at us from the night sky, only momentarily obstructed now and then by the gently swaying leaves of the surrounding coconut trees. Paradise? Yes. But it was watching us. As we sat down to eat (being famished after the long journey) our host, the hotel owner, came over to chat. He was Canadian and had lived here for the past twenty seven years, eager to speak to someone in his own tongue. In his many years here, he had gained much knowledge of local traditions and legends. Sitting back, admiring the view, I asked him if he knew much about this Sea Queen. "Oh yes", he replied, "I certainly do".

She goes by many names, he told me. The most common one is Nyai Roro Kidul. His Javanese wife and locals here often speak of her. There are many legends surrounding the mysterious queen. The local legend is that Nyai Roro Kidul was once a mistress of the Sultan of the 16th C. Muslim Mataram kingdom, with its seat in Yogyakarta. One day, in a fit of jealous despair or perhaps rejection (stories vary), she came to the very shore we sat on, and rode her chariot into the sea to drown. "Over there", said our host, pointing to a section of the bay visible only by the moonlight, with waves crashing against the rocks and sand, "That's where she went in".

Fig. 1 The part of the bay Nyai Roro Kidul allegedly rode her chariot into the sea to drown 

The legend tells of how after her death, she returned as a powerful spirit imbued with mystical powers or dark magic, sometimes even depicted as a mermaid. Those who wear green (usually men), she comes for to take them away into the depths of the ocean as she cannot bear anyone to wear her sacred colour. An element of man hating seems to accompany her. Many stories of such kidnappings or attempted ones by the spirit abound. Since our return I have encountered many others. Indonesian blogs and local folklore tell of close encounters with the Queen. One man speaks of how on one occasion, while swimming in the sea in green trunks (uh-oh), he heard a beautiful voice calling him. He claimed to then see this beautiful dark haired woman floating in the sea in front of him, beckoning him to come with her. Though enticed by the apparition momentarily, he regained his senses and swam back to shore unscathed. Another story, tells of how a local woman, eager to gain black magic powers from the Queen, often tried to trick men and sacrifice them to the deity, sometimes succeeding."This place", our host continued after a silence, "It sure has a lot of strange goings on".

The spirit is so venerated, even to this day, that sacrifices to her are still made by many. In the beginning of the Javanese year (around April), animal sacrifices can be seen down on the very shore we overlooked. Festivals in her honour are held across various towns and cities on the southern coast every year, particularly in Yogyakarta. The Sultan of Yogyakarta even claims a special connection and spiritual link with her. All of this, in an effort to appease the vengeful sea spirit. As the night rolled on, the stories continued until the sun gradually began to rise over that beautiful and indeed mysterious bay they call Pelabuhan Ratu.

Sun soaked sand
The following morning we arose to another Javanese scorcher. Our hotel, being right by the beach, was conveniently located for an early morning swim. It was holiday season in Indonesia, which meant that bus loads of tourists (mostly domestic, a high number of which came from Jakarta) were going to be flooding the tiny town over the next few days. Already, along the curve of the shoreline, we could see a significant amount of people enjoying the early morning sunshine and water. Muslim women, dressed from head to toe in full Muslim fashion, including hijab head covers, ran in and out of the wave bearing waters, who knows how they learned to deal with such temperatures in these clothes, I remember thinking. Perhaps it was just centuries of tradition.

With a sore head on me (our host had magically produced a bottle of Johnny Walker Black label the night before, a rarity in this country), I made for the ocean waves which crashed and broke against the sandy beach, in the hope they might cure me of my morning ailment. After about twenty minutes of enjoying the refreshing water I noticed my hotel room key had disappeared from my shorts pocket. My sunglasses, I suddenly realised (remember my "condition"), were also missing from my face. Lost to the sea. In retrospect, I of course realise the foolishness of jumping into the beach pounding waves with a key in my pocket and sporting a nice pair of sunglasses. However, at that particular moment in time, I was not in my best senses. After a quick but fruitless search I walked, defeated, to the hotel reception.

Fig. 2. A portrait of the Queen of the Sea

The receptionist was a young Indonesian man and spoke a little English. Mostly just a few token phrases and sentences required of his position. "Hello, Mister", "Welcome" and "Can I help you, Mister". The last one got my attention. "Yes, you can", I jumped in. After a few moments of explaining to him in English (at this point I assumed he was fluent for some reason), I began to realise the smile now transfixed on his face was a cover. He had no idea what I was saying. He never did. In desperation and using as many random Indonesian words as I could muster, I began miming. Key (turning a key). Missing (shrugging shoulders). Still nothing. Then I spotted the portrait of the Sea Queen. Hastily and accusingly I pointed to her picture and shouted "mengambil (taken)"! It was the sea queen, yes I decided, she took my key. It was not my recklessness at all. Suddenly, the glassy eyed smile of obliviousness was washed from his face and replaced by something more like astonishment, then recognition. This he understood completely. It was obviously a common occurrence or, at any rate, a common explanation. Who knows how many keys or other trinkets the Sea Queen had swiped. He then disappeared into a back room to find me a replacement.


Outro
The experience in Pelabuhan Ratu got me thinking. Who was this Nyai Roro Kidul, really? It seems so out of place on an island of predominantly Muslim people. Many of her origin stories come from the early Muslim era on Java, but there appears to be more to it than that. Also, could the strong outgoing rip currents present all along the shoreline add to the legend of a sea spirit pulling people under to their deaths? I looked into the history later. Pre-Islamic and Christian Java welcomed and embraced much of the Hindu and Buddhist religions. These older religions reached Java and spread throughout most of Indonesia from about the 8^th century. The particular derivation of Buddhism known as Hinayana, dedicated to the salvation of the individual though monastic self-discipline, was adopted by the Sailendra kings of Srivujaya. This is marked by a date inscribed on a shrine of the new religion in 778. The famous Borobudur stupa followed soon after. However, these new religions did not spread everywhere. Large parts of Borneo and some eastern Indonesian islands show this. Prior to the spread of Islam and Christianity into the archipelago after the 13^th century, these somewhat more isolated areas held onto their ancient belief systems, belief systems rooted in primitive animism surrounded by stories of ghosts and spirits connected with nature and its phenomena (Cotterell  1979, 97), such as sea spirits. Some of these animistic societies continue even to this day, such as in the jungles of Borneo and Papua.  While most of the stories of Nyai Roro Kidul date to the 16^th century Javanese Mataram Sultanate, the curious nature of her story, and the continued practice of animal sacrifice and other such practices in dedication to her, suggest a much older history. Perhaps it is just another dim flame remaining of an ancient animistic belief system that was never fully extinguished by its successors, nor ever fully absorbed. 

My fascination with her story, and others like it, was now increasing. After a peaceful day on this beautiful beach of Pelabuhan Ratu, we gathered once more in the little wooden hut on the beach as the sun began to sink. To the east, a dark-clouded, rough storm was rolling in, rising the tireless waves still further. But in the west lay yet another peaceful, deep red sunset sky, the low mountains on the far side of the bay now silhouetted against its glow. We sat quietly watching the scene unfold. Two completely different faces of nature, co-existing in the same space, fighting for dominance of our attentions. But which one would win...  

Fig.3. Another Javanese sunset.

     




           

    

Tropical Botanical Gardens, The Rare Giant Corpse Flower and Gongs Galore in Bogor.

I recently thought to myself "it has been some time since my last post here". Much of this, of course, is due to work related distractions and not really going anywhere to write about, but last weekend I decided to change all that and take a weekend trip to beautiful Bogor. Bogor, being just 60km outside Jakarta, is famed for its amazing botanical gardens with a host of rare tropical plants and trees having the claim to be one of the oldest and largest in the world. The Presidential Palace is situated right in the centre to boot. Jokingly nicknamed by locals as "the rain city", Bogor is said to have more rainfall than any other city on the Island of Java, though on my trip, thankfully, the rain subsided long enough to allow for an unhindered experience of one of Java's best bustling urban gems.

Getting There
The fact that Jakarta's incessant urban sprawl is growing ever steadily to encompass its neighbouring cities into one massive concrete jungle has its benefits for travellers. Transport to and from Bogor is extremely easy and efficient. While it's recommended to avoid as much bus travel as possible, due to the slow grinding nature of Jakarta's traffic, the trains are your best option by far. For the tiny price of 17,000 Rupiah (only £1.10/$1.70) you can take the train from Jakarta Kota or Manggarai terminals to Bogor in under an hour with trains leaving as frequently as every ten minutes. Be aware though, that in the evenings and at peak times, this train can get very busy but no more so than the London Tube. This is also more likely on the return journey to Jakarta on Sunday evenings when everyone is coming home.

Our journey there left from Bekasi, a suburb now absorbed into greater Jakarta. Most of the scenery along the way consists of red tilled buildings in various conditions, showing the growing expanse of mega Jakarta, slowly engulfing each little town along the railway route. You have pause to think of what these places must have been like before their amalgamation as countless suburbs. The people on the train mostly keep to themselves, as in most cities, but quietly staring at the strange Bulai (white person) travelling with them. We found ourselves staring somewhat too when we saw one Muslim woman sporting a South Park hijab (Muslim head cover), of all things. We quietly wondered to ourselves if the irony was lost on her.

Another strange occurrence on this short journey was the encountering of an Indonesian man we had met before on the train into Jakarta. This seemed very strange to us given the fact that, in a population of over 10,000,000, on the major commuter train, we should encounter the same individual sitting next to us. He found it strange too no doubt as we began to chat about what to do in Bogor and the best places to stay.
In under fifty minutes, our train had arrived at it's destination.

 Where to stay

(fig 1) Twin room in the IPB Convention Hotel 

Plenty of hotels exist in Bogor of various standards. You can get anything from basic (and I mean basic) accommodation for about Rp200,000 per night ($20) if on a budget, or get something a little more comforting with all the modern facilities for that bit extra. Most hotels are walking distance from the city centre with the botanical gardens in range. Public transport is most commonly found by the local green angkots which go all over the city. We stayed in the very nice four star IPB Convention Hotel on Jl. Pajajaran. For Rp550,000 (about $55), you get a very nice twin bed room with flat screen T.V. and western style toilet and it includes breakfast. Also, having spent a while in Indonesia now, the hot showers were a godsend! Other hotels can increase up to 1.5million Rupiah a night but for much better quality.


Botanic Beauty

With over 15,000 species of plants and trees, the Botanical gardens of Bogor are by far it's major pulling factor. Built originally sometime in the 15th C, what exists there today was mostly built and landscaped by Stamford Raffles, the British Lieutenant Governor of Java, back around 1811. Pamphlets and signs throughout the park attest to this. In the centre stands the Neoclassical (quite Palladian influenced) Presidential Palace. The original was built in 1744 in imitation of Blenhem Palace in Oxford by the Dutch Governors but, after an earthquake in 1834, it was almost completely rebuilt to it's current fashion (http://www.indonesia.go.id/en/palaces/bogor-palace).The gardens are quite enormous too, spreading outward from the centre of Bogor for some 80 hectares and totally enclosed by a large cast iron fence. This means they are certainly easy to find and you can get one of the many green angkots outside the train station that circle the perimeter road, right to the main entrance. 

(fig. 2) The Neoclassical Presidential Palace in the Botanical Gardens. Rebuilt in 1834.

Entrance to the gardens is interesting. Approaching the main ticket office, you see what quickly becomes a common sight in Indonesia. There is a price for the locals and there is a price for Bulais or foreigners. This is something you just have to get used to. Needless to say, if you are not from here, you pay more. Fortunately for us, we had our KITAS or residency permits so we did not have to pay the 25,000 Rupiah (which still isn't bad) Bulai price, but got the much nicer 14,000 Rupiah domestic price. Inside the enclosure, the atmosphere is much like being in a tropical jungle, but with an unusual variety of plant and tree species not usually known to cohabit the same environment. There are clusters of bamboo forest right next to jungle trees and over 400 varieties of palm tree alone (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bogor_Botanical_Gardens) coming in all sorts of odd and beautiful shapes, sizes and colours. The landscape is breathtaking, particularly where you have an elevated view of this man made paradise. One of my favourite species of plant there is the

(fig. 3) A view of the gardens from a platform

Pandan plant. This little plant is extremely versatile and useful in South East Asia. One of its primary uses is as a flavouring in cooking, giving the wide variety of foods it is used in (such as bread, pastries, pandan pancakes etc.) a very vanilla like flavour. One of it's other major uses, according to signs at the gardens, is in the weaving of roofs and floors in rural areas.

The Rare Corpse Flower
One of the major attractions of the gardens is the every interesting and decidedly rare Amorphophallus Titanum, or more commonly known as the "corpse flower". The unusual nickname for this giant tropical plant comes from the strong odour it emits when in bloom to attract carrion insects which, in turn, help in the pollination process. It's rarity stems (pardon the pun) from the fact that it is only endemic to the jungles of western Sumatra in Indonesia. All other examples exist only in private collections. Furthering the intrigue of this monster plant, it only flowers once every three years and when it does so, the bloom only lasts for a few short days. Needless to say, when the flower finally does bloom after years of lying dormant, it attracts more than just insects. Thousands of people descend on Bogor to view this huge and colourful example of natures ability to amaze. The dark purple-red leaves open up around a large, yellow, tower-like inflorescence reaching over three meters in height (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amorphophallus_titanum). It's image adorns a multitude of signs and leaflets around, not just the gardens, but the whole city as well. I guess it's no surprise such a striking attraction is used as the symbol of the city. Sadly, on our visit, we arrived on one of the dormant years and did not have the privilege of seeing it, in what could be described for many as a once in a lifetime opportunity. The toothless old Indonesian guide, devoid of any English whatsoever, made this clear to us in a series of enthusiastic, animated gestures. When a group of passing students, snagged by the old man, assisted in confirming to me that I was too late (or indeed early), I quietly wondered how many times has he himself seen this rare and beautiful event of nature.

Other attractions
Aside from the immensity of the beautiful gardens, which you could spend a whole day in alone, and the golf and country clubs on the city outskirts, there is not a great deal else to do. This is why a trip to Bogor is more suited to a weekend trip or even day trip for most. Again, as this is Indonesia, if you are looking for clubs/bars, this is not the place for you. Bogor is more about experiencing Indonesian urban culture at its best. For many of those seeking to immerse themselves in this, a wander through Bogor's winding streets and kampungs (poorer areas) is greatly rewarding. While the same can be said of colossal Jakarta, Bogor reveals its charms in a decidedly less overbearing way. Most of the buildings are only two stories, complete with red tiles, and, though it sprawls quite a bit, you never get the sense of the big megalopolis that you do in Jakarta. This makes for less claustrophobic exploring.

One little gem in the kampungs just about a twenty minute walk south-west from the centre is the Bogor Gong Factory. Located on Jl. Pancasan, the workers here claim that the factory (if one could call a large shed with about eight guys a factory) is one of only two remaining on Java. The other is in Solo in central Java. The external, expensive looking sign and (as we later found) website for the factory are deceptive indeed, however. Inside, the eight or so workers perilously and arduously hammer out the shape of a single gong with no protective gear at all and in total darkness, apart from the glow of the red hot metal (copper and tin) as it slowly takes shape (fig. 4). The hammers they use weigh seven kilos, they tell me, and they get paid very little. Their only real income is from the tips tourists leave them on a metal plate in the corner. Considering their dangerous and tiring task, working in such heat, we tip them well. Their English is not great, which is to be expected but they do seem to have rote learned some descriptive phrases like "one gong, one day" and "only two factories, here and Solo". Any questions outside of these topics fall on deaf ears. These gongs are produced for use in the Indonesian traditional gamelan orchestra of Java and Bali. It seems that this once common trade has decreased massively in recent years, and given the length of time it takes to make one (one per day), they have become a rarity in themselves. We were glad to have the chance to see the craft before it totally dies out into obscurity.

(fig 4) The Gong Factory workers beat out the shape of a gong resting on soft banana tree bark. They work with no protective gear and in almost total darkness to make a finely crafted gamelan gong.

Outro
Bogor is indeed a great place to visit, if you are planning a short weekend break. While not for everyone, it does offer, in its botanical gardens in particular, a little taste of the beauty of Indonesia's natural treasures; its wild tropical landscape and extensive flora and fauna, so rare to the rest of the world. They could inspire anyone to explore more of what the natural world has to offer. Even the somewhat dated exhibitions of the zoological museum, in the grounds of the gardens themselves, display the vast array of mysterious and curious creatures endemic to these islands, opening the eyes and minds of the many tourists that throng its halls on a daily basis. Just before leaving the museum on our last day I noticed something. The portraits of past governors and curators that line many of the buildings walls hint at the long and turbulent history of Indonesia itself, both politically and culturally. Up until the 1950's, the portraits show moustached white westerners, mostly with Dutch and English names, stark reminders of the peoples oppressed colonial past. But beyond this point, with independence won, the faces change to those of a more local people, of true Indonesians. The country and what remains of it's untouched natural treasure is in their hands now. May they watch over it carefully and see it flourish as a haven safe from western interference.      


     





 


        
   

Run Through the Jungle: A weekend on Pulau Peucang island in Ujung Kulon National Park

The beach on Pulau Peucang

This perfect beach runs right round the island

White sandy beaches, a crystal clear, warm sapphire blue sea, scorching sun (33C) and total seclusion on the outskirts of a jungle paradise. This is how I would have to describe my weekend on the beautiful island of Pulau Peucang, just off the south western tip of Java. If you are looking for a quiet, relaxing get away, far from the bustling rush of modern urban life, where its just you, the ocean and plenty of deserted beaches, Pulau Peucang is the place for you. The quiet serenity and natural beauty is what is most attractive about this place, by far. Other than the resort, which only consists of a few small hut like buildings, there are no other people or buildings on the island nor indeed for miles and miles in any direction. You have no one but a few macaque monkeys to pester you while you soak up some rays, go for a refreshing swim or maybe do a bit of fishing or jungle trekking. Give yourself the time to reach it and you will really get to know, and instantly fall in love with this stunning hidden little gem tucked away in the heart of Indonesia.

While it's all well and good to talk about the amazing place Pulau Peucang is, getting there in the first place is the real adventure. One thing is for certain, it's not easy. Your best bet, and most cost effective way of travelling, is to go in a tour group of some sort as otherwise it can be quite expensive and troublesome to organise. Our tour only charged 800,000 rupiah (about $80) for everything including the boat (which would have cost that on its own), food and accommodation for one night. A good deal. The island itself is part of the UNESCO World Heritage site of Ujung Kulon, a national park since 1980, on the south western tip of Java.

A Google Maps view with Ujung Kulon marked as A

This park was in the wake of the massive volcanic eruption of Krakatau in 1883 and so today, most of the jungle for which it is known is relatively sparse in lower areas, destroyed along with many of the homes that once stood there. New growth and replanted areas can be seen all along the coast however in an attempt to bring the jungle back to it's former size. Having said this, a vast area of jungle still exists today with many areas of completely enclosed jungle canopy in places such as Pulau Peucang. Given the fact that no real roads actually go through the main part of the park (unless you count the pot hole ridden dirt tracks unfit for man nor beast), the easiest way to get around here is by boat along the coast.

The animal species that exist there range from the primates like the Javan gibbon, leaf monkey and crab eating macaque to reptiles like the monitor lizard, two python species and crocodiles  (UNESCO, http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/608, 2013). The largest species of bat in the world also resides here (and indeed in many parts of the Indonesian archipelago), known to most as the flying fox or fruit bat. Perhaps the most famous resident however, and perhaps the only remaining place it can be found, is the rare Javan Rhino. From what I have gathered from speaking to locals and fellow travelers, only about 50 of them exist in the wild today and so they are closely watched and protected by the park rangers. Given their rarity, they are notoriously difficult to spot.

Our own adventure began in Jakarta, where we set off on a tour with thirty companions at around 11pm at night. Our aim was to travel by mini bus south through the night to reach Ujung Kulon by morning. After escaping the Jakarta traffic we began our decent down the western coast of Java in the two twelve seater mini buses. After cramming about seventeen people into each (including our guides), some even making the journey on the roof of each bus, we continued on through the night for about eight hours.

Returning was the same, every space possible was taken

The roads were in mediocre condition of course until we got closer to the national park when they became little more than pot hole ridden tracks causing us to bounce around like a ship on a stormy sea. Sleep was not an option. After waking from a sleep deprived daze as the sun began to rise several hours later, I began to notice the change in landscape. Certainly, houses and little shops can be seen all along the entirety of the route confirming Javas status as one of the most densely populated places on the globe, but the buildings become steadily more rustic and removed from modern conveniences the closer you get to Ujung Kulon. The concrete, slightly urban feel gives way to open rice paddies and rural fishing villages with houses made of wood or even wicker walls, raised on low stilts and with palm leaf thatched roofs. Yet still, for some reason, every one of them will have a giant satellite dish proudly displayed in their front yards. I guess nowhere is completely untouched by the modern world. All around, the trees begin to change into towering palms, banana and coconut trees, the road turns to nothing and the vine covered jungle begins. This is Ujung Kulon.

A moored boat at the tiny village of Tamanjaya, Ujung Kulon

Having run out of viable road at Tamanjaya, a little village a small ways inside the park, we opted to switch to a boat. After admiring the village itself with tall palm trees towering over us and their long shadows cast over the grass in the early morning sunlight, we boarded the small vessel which would be our home for the next 3 hours. We slowly pulled out from the pier, away from the last vestige of civilization and began to make our way to our final destination, the isolated tiny island of Pulau Peucang.

One of the unusual fishing structures found all along the coast

All along the route to the island, stood on stilts and platforms, were the local fishing structures. A strange sight at first, they appear to serve as a means to cast large fishing nets and leave them for some time to fill up with fish. In their centre, they contain a small wooden cabin, perhaps for fishermen to wait for their nets to fill. Also, in the distance, volcanoes can be seen, lying silent for now. We soon arrived at the island which appeared as a paradise on earth. White sandy beach surrounds the entire perimeter, brightly reflecting the blazing hot sun. The rest of the island is pure wild jungle except for a tiny clearing where we docked. This is the "resort", though I use the term loosely as all it contains are a few small hut buildings for sleeping quarters and a handful of locals to keep it going. There is nothing else on the island. No shops. No busy markets or streets. No traffic of any kind. Just pure wild jungle and beaches at their best and most enticing. There isn't even any electricity there until after six o'clock, though, given its remoteness, I guess that makes sense. You must bring, or in our case, catch your own food if you stay here. The surrounding, warm, clear tropical ocean is certainly full of fish, not just good for swimming and snorkeling. If you are looking for a party, a wild night or excitement, this is not the place for you. This island's charm is its tranquility and the sense of being just you and the most beautiful environment nature can provide. Paradise.

A sense of peace and tranquility accompanies you everywhere here 

Trekking through the jungle on Pulau Peucang is easily done. Given the islands small size, you are never too far away from the coastal surrounding beach and coral reefs, making it difficult to get lost. While a trek through the islands jungle is a must, to catch a glimpse of wild deer, boar, macaques and, if you are lucky, a monitor lizard, the local boatmen will be happy to take you across to the mainland jungle of Ujung Kulon. That is to say, if the local park police don't hassle the boatmen for docking idly in the national park. At least that's what I assumed they were doing on our tip. Of course, once the police left, the scattered boatmen promptly returned and took us across to Cidaon where we could observe wild cattle (banteng), peacocks and any other of the parks residents we could glimpse.

A clearing in the jungle on Cidaon where we could observe the wildlife. Banteng can be seen on the right.

After a tiring day, having been up for two days straight, we finally got back on the boat and made the short journey back to the island. As the sun sank in the west in an orange sky, the giant fruit bats began to come out in great numbers, gliding silently over our returning vessel in search of food under the cover of coming darkness. The jungle comes alive with energy at night, that's for sure. But our long journey had left us with none. Tomorrow was another day and we would make full use of that magnificent beach and the warm tropical waters that surrounded us. We slept well indeed.

A typical jungle scene on Pulau Peucang

The sunrise over the island is a fantastic sight to behold, especially down by the pier with the handful of boats tied up, floating silently. The giant fruit bats now return from their night activities to hang upside down in their respective jungle trees, away from prying eyes. An early morning jungle trek is a great way to wake up, shielding you from the ever increasing heat of the rising morning sun by staying hidden under the thick jungle canopy.

The dying sun peeks through the canopy in Cidaon

All around, the sound of the jungle can be heard, particularly the strikingly loud song of the cicada insect, various tropical birds and the calls of macaques in the trees. We contented ourselves to make the most of the beach for the little time we had left there, after all, our short weekend get away was almost over. With such a long return journey ahead (twelve hours in all), we had to leave early. By 11am we had gathered on the beach by the pier, soaking up the views, the gorgeous sun and contemplating that sense of tranquility one last time. We stood there in silence, all of us, for those last few moments, and then boarded the boat one by one. As we pulled out into the warm open waters, leaving Pulau Peucang sink slowly into the horizon, I thought to myself: "this sure is going to be hard to beat". The bar is set very high indeed after my first real trip in Indonesia, and to such a hidden gem. Time will tell if it can be raised again...  

Sunrise over Pulau Peucang on our last day

      

   

Initial Impressions Part Two- The Great Divide

I will begin with Bekasi, a suburb of Jakarta where I currently live. This could certainly be described as a more upscale area, relatively speaking. The main street nearby is Kemang Pratama Raya, literally ‘Kemang main street’, or something along those lines. From ones first view of this long street, lined with towering palm trees and immense Mediterranean style mansions adorning its sides, you would think yourself in Beverly Hills, only slightly less well kept and no one speaks English. The houses themselves are incredible displays of wealth echoed by the fleets of new SUV’s cascading down the strip.

(pic 1)One of many large houses on Kemang Pratama Raya

Much of the architecture in this area appears to have been influenced by the Portuguese, early settlers in Jakarta and the surrounding areas from around 1522. Huge American style Malls are also quite close by, all clustering together and with everything you want under one roof, including a vast array of Western stores; Pizza Hut, Dunkin Doughnuts, Starbucks, Burger King, MacDonalds etc. Walking just off the tree lined road, and clustered around my little house (shared with six others), you find yourself in an area more akin to the norm. Hundreds of little businesses, mostly cheap restaurants and warungs (food stalls) as well as market areas, travelling salesmen and women, cheap trinket shops, garages, and everything else in between. What is distinctly different with these, is the immediately more local feel. Almost no one speaks English when you go into or up to one of these places so a useful guide book with basic phrases is essential, though body language can often suffice. It appears to be quite a thriving little area yet with a much greater relaxed atmosphere, compared to Jakarta. 

(pic 2) Kampung tin roofed house in Bekasi

Yet, upon looking at this bustling little area of Bekasi, full of people gradually going about their daily business, one can’t help but notice the lack of housing. Where does everyone else live? Exploring past the thin veil of businesses, through some narrow (and I mean narrow) side streets, we come to the more typical housing in the area and begin to notice all was not as it seemed. Long winding little streets lined with small houses, often brightly painted and with very little frontage, are the homes of the street vendors and their families as well as many other, I guess, middle class types. But this is not all. A real sense of a wealth divide quickly catches up to you when, just down the road to the north of the main street and across the bridge you catch a glimpse of the kampung villages. This is the poorest form of living accommodation, not just in Bekasi, but all over Jakarta as well. They exist as something like shanty towns. Many structures, often of tin roof construction and haphazardly built, line many of the city and surrounding areas streets in this fashion and account for a huge proportion of the populace. They exist so close, often right next to the mega wealthy houses or the sky scrapers in Jakarta that it feels like two completely different worlds co-existing on the same plot of land. The kampungs in Jakarta, particularly in Glodok , the Chinese area we explored, are very extensive. Travelling through these winding passages full of people, overpowering aromas (good and bad), traffic (even on these tiny pathways!), markets selling everything from tasty treats of chicken satay and a plethora of chillies and spices to live cobras, ready to eat, can be an assault on the senses but totally worth the effort. The seemingly endless pathways through Glodoks red tilled (in some cases) and tin roofed crooked houses are a veritable maze with no discerning landmarks to help you find your way. Using the sun for direction will certainly be of help. If you manage not to get too lost here, you may even stumble upon one of the areas many Buddhist Temples. Be sure to take off your shoes before entering these solemn places though. Continuing on deeper into the kampung, you will hear the megaphone call to prayer blaring over the air. On one excursion I thought I heard this same call, only to discover, in fact, an old man with a dirty sleeveless vest in a doorway, lying down on an old couch singing happily into a microphone on his own. Perhaps he was practicing for X factor while escaping the heat outside. This area is a real slice of local living yet always remaining sharply contrasted with much wealthier areas, often just a stone’s throw away. The open sewers and badly polluted rivers flowing through the Glodok kampungs heighten this sense of the forgotten little villages in the background even though Jakarta’s main centre is not much better for this. Despite the relative poverty of these areas, however, the people are the happiest you can find. Smiles all round every turn you take and greetings of “Hello Mister” and “Welcome to Indonesia” abound as the street kids playfully run alongside you looking to get a high five or simply just to see the Bule (Indonesian for white westerner, literally ‘albino’). It can be very heart warming indeed.

(pic 3) One of the "wider" kampung streets in Glodok

(pic 4) An example of Jakarta's wealthy centre

Moving deeper into the commercial heart of Jakarta, leaving behind the winding kampungs and their occupants (though never very far away), we begin to notice the change in skyline. All of a sudden, there are massive skyscrapers, huge hotel complexes which are lit up like Vegas at night, more vast sprawling malls and office buildings, apartment blocks the size of a small city in themselves with palm trees on every balcony, the impressive obelisk like Monas monument, massive beautiful Mosques (this has the largest Muslim population in the world, after all) and the old Dutch part of the city (Kota) complete with VOC headquarters from the 17^th C. This sharp contrast makes you feel as though you have been transported to another time and place altogether. This architecture is also quite modern for the most part (aside from the old town) and unique in style giving all the appearance of a cutting edge city in its prime. It seems some select areas get far greater attention over others. Having said this, pollution is a serious problem and evident everywhere, particularly in the rivers.

(pic 5) Pollution in the city rivers

While this can be hard to ignore at first, as well as the burnt out shells of buildings scattered throughout the old part of the city and the fumes from the chaotic traffic jams (which deserve a segment in themselves), you soon look past it. The real wealth divide and struggle with pollution from an ever expanding populace is problem Jakarta and its surrounding suburbs must face in the coming years, but you can still enjoy wandering through the countless markets and side streets and discover what Jakarta really has to offer, its rich variety of culture, history, cuisine and unparalleled Indonesian hospitality.