Re-discovernig Java Man

Days 16-18: Gunung Bromo, Java, Indonesia

Java - where one half of the world's fourth most populous nation lives; where everyone has a backyard view of a giant, smoking volcano; where recent earthquakes and tsunamis have added to the chaos of Indonesia's hodge-podge of Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Christians, and other tribal associations trying to hold on to (and, for some, break apart) nationhood . . . and, of course, the homeland of Java man, our post-ape predecessor. We quickly felt the complexity of this island nation, as the peace and cultural unity of Lombok and Bali faded as soon as we stepped off the smelly, rusting ferry . . . the May earthquake, 2001 tsunami and 2001 and 2005 Bali terrorist bombings have driven away most tourists and the Javanese, in particular, are desperate . . . immediately the scam attempts began, but with a much sharper edge than Bali, and although we (thought we) were prepared for some shifty eyes and broken promises in southeast Asia, we quickly discovered that, for us, we could never be prepared for it. Because, when you travel half way across the globe to meet a new people - to connect - it is hard to not take it personal upon discovering that the ONLY reason this person is talking to us is to (a) get money out of us and/or (b) get more money than we agreed upon and/or (c) leave us in the dust if necessary to get even more money . . . the first 24 hours were disheartening. All sense of trust was lost . . . first it was the busdriver who tried to charge us 100,000 Rp for a ride that should have cost about 4,000 Rp. Then it was the guy who tried to charge us double for the bus ride that we knew cost half as much as he quoted. Then it was--and this was the worst--the guy who promised us a ride to Ceromo Lewang, a very remote mountain town and our destination for the night, who stopped in the middle of nowhere, claiming that he was not going to go any farther, but that his "friend" would take us to where we wanted to go for 500 times the price. We were stuck, he knew it and he had us by the proverbial balls. So what could we do? We paid the money.

On the drive, we saw some smoke and fire in the distance, and only once we got closer did we realize that, yep, that was the volcano burning in the night. We woke up the next morning on the rim of the Tengger crater massif, in the middle of which stood multiple volcanic cones, inlcuding Mt Bromo, an indeed still active volcano. We decided to hike the 2.5km to the rim of Bromo's cone, passing an incredibly remote temple at Bromo's base. The only other people there were the occasional horse men ("are you tired? do you want horse ride for $50,000 RP?" . . . and us thinking: "do you really think, after traveling thousands of miles by plane, bus, taxi, and foot, that we are ready to bust out our wallet for a 400-meter ride on your starving horse?!),wrapped from head to toe with only his eyes showing to protect himself from the incredible sandstorms.
As we walked in what might as well have ben a Martian crater, we watched smoke continuously pour from the crater (yep, the crater we were about to climb). Don't worry mom, we made a game-plan in case it blew. Safety first, right? At the base of Bromo is a staircase--253 steps to be exact--to the rim ofthe crater. We were nearly (literally) blown away at the top of the crater, by the winds, and by the smoke and gases coming out of the crater. Unbelievable. We marveled at the volcano until the sulfuric smell of the gases was just too much, and then headed back, this time passing the same horse-ride entrepreneur, but now laying face down in the sand with his horse tied to his leg. Business was slow. The next morning, we woke up early to catch the sunrise over Bromo. Our timing was, yet again, a little off to catch the sunrise. Only this time, we were late, not early. So we didnt make it up to the top of the ridge for sunrise, but we did get to see the area in the early morning light,which was a pretty spectacular sight. We'll get it right eventually.

Days 19-23: Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia

Eleven bus hours and three rip-offs later, we arrived in Yogyakarta, a major urban and cultural center with loads of historical remnants from the city's past as the former spiritual and political capital of Java (under the Hindu Mataram kingdom and earlier Buddhist chiefdoms). Centered on the sultan's palace (the kraton) with major boulevards and a maze of fascinating back alleys radiating outward. Indeed, wandering these back alleys was our favorite activity, where crowded food stalls, mopeds, craft worshops, teenie boppers on their Nokias . . . all slid in and out, and only slightly taken aback by the seemingly giant, whiter northern couple passing through. Also, prepared for the worst of tourist scams, we found instead a rather mixed bag of both friendship and scheming: this time the scams came with smiles and a dose of wit, improving our perceptions of the Javanese. Our guard came down, and we actually ENJOYED getting duped - over and over again - with what has got to be the most ridiculous scam - the "extra special, last day only, government-sponsored student art exhibit . . . oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is your very last HOUR to come into our 'gallery' and view - even PURCHASE, you are so lucky - these rare, special 'batik' prints" And of what? Oh yes, another image of a woman with cow, coconut or rice paddie, created in just about every color in the Crayola box and mixed together like the first Hypercolor line . And yet, the true artists - not the batik craftsmen, but the schemers - they came up with the most ingenious conversation ploys to lure us in ("you look just like the actor from X-Men") . . . and next thing you know, we are back in some "extra special" art exhibit, looking at, no offense to the long-standing batik tradition, but, in my view, some seriously kitchy-looking crap. The process of making batik is pretty amazing, but this looks like the stuff that NEVER sells at Pier 1.

But batik aside, we delved into some seriously tasty food stalls - succulent, spicy, red chili eggplant; super-fresh, ginger-infused greens; grilled fish; shiny satays; and yes, sweet, delicious super-firm tofu just like mom used to make. Unfortunately, the eggplant toppled Al's tummy a day or two later, but, a little Cipro and TLC knocked that out just in time for the GORGING we did in Singapore. We also discovered a new activity, greatly enhanced by a few large Bintang beers, where we jump into a rickshaw and drive through bustling streets, roundabouts, etc., waving like Brangelina at the paparazzi minus the cameras. Plus, our "driver" (biker, rather) was a total riot . . . check out his tongue!

The sites around Yogya offered a remarkable glimpse into the spiritual past. Arriving for sunrise, we were both amazed by Borobudur - the largest Buddhist structure in the world - a temple built in 900 AD, with 9 different levels wrapping around a mountain side and surrounded by gorgeous temperate monsoon forest. The top two levels (symbolizing the final stages of the eight-fold path to enlightenment) contained 73 giant, bell-shaped stuppas, each one containing a statute of Buddha. The final stage, where no one ever enters, contains a giant stuppa, empty inside, symbolizing that ethereal "nothingness" one must achieve to arrive at enlightenment (yet, begging the question, although I did not ask our guide this, that if no one has ever been inside, how do you know it is empty? . . . i know, asshole Westerner). As the sun rose through the giant stuppas, and we walked downward, taking in the wonderfully crafted friezes depicting stories from the life of Buddha, we could not help but feel a deeper sense of wonder and history. It is a truly special place. Later that day, we headed to Prambanan, a huge Hindu temple, where we got to hangout with our new friend Charlie, a Brit travel addict who has been absolutely everywhere. So of course, we picked her brain for tips over a few beers, made casual plans to meet next summer in the Himalayas, and then took in a traditional Javanese ballet performance with the Prambanan temples lit in the background. A fantastic day.