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Published: August 25th 2010
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So after a brief hiatus - internet does not yet exist in my most recent location - it's time to get blogging again.
Java: an island home to rice fields, volcano chains, 150 million people and Jogjakarta, the culture capital of this populous but breathtaking piece of Indonesia.
After two short flights and a night in a less-than-comfortable hotel, I arrived in Jogjakarta in the sweltering heat, cursing my giant backpack and my inability to pack light as I hunted down a hotel. This proved to be more difficult than anticipated as every guesthouse in town was full, full, full, full, full. To the hilt. I passed other travellers (otherwise known as my competition) who were beginning to realize the same dismal probability that I was - you may be bumming it tonight. Lonely Planet is a traveller's bible around these parts, and I'm no exception to the rule. Which means that any LP hotel recommendations (at least in high season) should be written-off well before planes land, ferries dock and buses pull into terminals.
Fortunately, a short, sweaty, pushy old Indonesian man grabbed me by the arm and started leading me through back alleys that twisted and
turned around food stalls and kids playing badminton outside a mosque. "You tired. Room is free. Very Nice. No dirty. You come. You come now." A little put off, I decided the room was at least worth a look (apparently, I had no other options anyway) and though the walls could have used a fresh coat of paint and the water could have smelled less like rotten eggs, the price was right and it had a fan (an uncommon luxury in the cheapo rooms), so I dropped my pack and gave the man his due satisfaction at seducing yet another weary wanderer.
Jogja happened to be the first big city I had encountered with more than a drop of character and charm, and so it was here where I happily parked myself for a nice 5 day stop. The area around my hotel was almost like a backpacker ghetto, a tranquil location with bohemian cafes and used bookstores in a bustling city. And while it's often nicer to stay in the thick of things surrounded by locals, I was actually quite grateful for this calm port in the crowded seas of Jogja's city streets.
Of some of the
highlights was a (some would say, mandatory) visit to the two temples in the low-lying outskirts of the city. The first is Prambanan, the largest Hindu temple complex in Indonesia, erected in the ninth century that pays homage to some of the better known Hindu gods, like Shiva and Vishnu. The temples were discovered in the early 1800's by a Brit when the royal empire lorded over Indonesia for a brief time. Most of the smaller temples are in shambles thanks to an earthquake in 2006, but the larger ones are mostly in tact and an impressive sight, rising pointedly out of the hazy fog of the city. On the way, I had the pleasure of meeting a lovely Swiss girl named Stephanie who became my Jogja buddy, and the beginning of what became a small group we assembled for the few days we cohabited the city. After returning from Prambanan, we tucked into some local cuisine at one of the warungs (road-side food vendors who have mastered the art of pulling fully cooked meals out of nowhere) and were soon joined by fellow solo traveller, Melanie from Austria, who took part in the fun over the next few days.
The night before, I had decided to treat myself to a showing of the Ramayana ballet, performed on a stage directly behind the Prambanan temples which are marvelously lit up at night. This is the traditional Javanese court dance that has been performed on this stage since the 1960s, with more than 40 dancers and live gamelan music. There under the stars, I watched the story of a prince unfold as he fought arduously for the release of his rightful bride-to-be from some evil man whose name I can neither remember nor pronounce. Thankfully, we were provided with a brief synopsis before the show, as most of the dance was largely interpretive. We watched just four chapters of a 30-chapter saga, and while it was an impressive display, I was quite ready for it to come to an end after 2 hours on my seat of concrete.
The second of the two temples is stunning Borobodur, a giant Buddhist construction set amidst a sweeping landscape of lush green hilltops. This temple is considered to be the ideal Buddhist structure because it encompasses the four main figures important in the religion's cosmology, the square, the circle, the spiral and
the triangle. It also has three main divisions meant to symbolize the steps one takes towards achieving nirvana. To move between each of the sections, you follow a spiral path lined with over 1,400 reliefs that represent the course of important life lessons one must realize before he can move forward. We spent the morning here exploring the temple and rubbing Buddha bellies, returning to Jogja a little more enlightened.
The rest of my days here were spent wandering through the Kraton, the sultan's palace within the city that still employs over 1,000 locals. Directly behind the Kraton is its small village, home to 25,000 people, many of whom spend their time producing ancient Javanese crafts like the leather-carved shadow puppets, and batik, a gorgeous and still popular patterned fabric created through the use of wax and layered dying. I happened to stumble upon a workshop of each of these, and even bought myself a little batik after a hard but satisfying round of bargaining. Later I visited the water castle, a complex that used to serve as a private swimming pool to the sultan, his 35 wives and their children. Then there was the bird market, which was
actually a little depressing, seeing everything from budgies to parrots to hens and their chics dyed florescent colours for god knows what reason, crammed into cages two sizes too small.
On the 17th, the country celebrated it's 65-year independence with much excitement and chaos. A little too much for us to tolerate after a long day of cultural activities, but a day or so before, while watching the military practice its routine in front of some government building, I began to talk to a young local man working for a conservationist organization here in Jogja. His department was focusing on bringing awareness to the risks of deforestation, particularly in relation to the palm oil industry. One of Indonesia's largest exports, palm oil plantations are literally taking over the countryside - something I noticed during my long bus rides in Sumatra and again in Java - dismantling ecosystems and endangered animal habitats with the simultaneous stroke of a thousand machetes. Some argue that the plantations at least bring work to the villages, but most of the dollars gained from these initiatives are not funneled back into the poor communities and instead are funding a few men at the top who
continue to inflict human rights violations and poor working conditions on their workers. In a country as poor as Indonesia, it's no surprise that people do what they must to make ends meet, but the palm oil industry is tragic and in more ways than one.
On a more positive note, I got to know a wonderful initiative called Via Via during my time here, a chain of small and sustainable restaurants set up in various countries, as diverse as Senegal and Peru, by a group of Belgian friends set on promoting environmentally responsible travelling. All their organics are in fact organic and the coffee is fair trade. They support local artists by having different exhibitions and musical acts throughout the week, and sell products that fund different initiatives supporting improvements in local education and women's working rights. It was quite the impressive little place, and one I happily frequented, even finding myself there one early morning for a much enjoyed (and affordable-for-once) yoga class.
But sooner than I liked, my time in Jogja came to an end, and off I was on a 10 hour minibus ride in pursuit of a sunrise climb to the crater edge
of the dormant volcano Mount Bromo.
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