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Published: October 16th 2012
Jungle
Lake in the background Inner Sumatra.
Date: Millions of years ago.
Event: A catastrophic volcanic blast created basically the largest crater on Earth, which over time with the help of rivers and rain became Lake Toba! A large island rests in the middle of the lake, laced with jungle, and home to the friendly Batak people who possess a mysterious past... And that's exactly where I'm headed. So, hop on the back on my motorbike as I zip around this rock and unveil its secrets.
A Brief Batak History The ancestors of the Batak people are known to be from Yunan province in China. Legend has it, they arrived in Indonesia by canoe around a thousand years ago or so, and based the style of their houses on the canoe-like shape.
Stone Chairs: Just like it sounds. A bunch of carved stone chairs placed in a circle representing a court. Criminals would be locked up near by and the kings (sitting in the chairs) would decide the fate of the criminals which usually ended in beheading. When the villages on the island were first being established, a tree was planted before construction began. This tree was called the Hari Ara (which
Stone chairs
... And roots from a 7 days tree. means 7
days). If after seven days the tree had grown, the village would be erected. If the tree slumped or didn't grow after seven days the sight was abandoned. It was meant to see if a village would be prosperous.
Symbols: Many geckos and female breasts are carved into various houses and structures. The breasts represent fertility. The geckos represent the ability to live everywhere. The Gecko usually faces the breasts to remind people to never forget their mothers and where they come from. It's a beautiful harmony encouraging Batak people to embrace their inner curious geckos and venture out and away from home, while never forgetting their heritage.
Cannibalism Disclaimer: This part is a tad gruesome It's okay, they'd only eat people with black magic... That is, those who committed acts of murder or rape... From what i gathered they used to believe only those capable of such heinous acts could possess this "black magic" of sorts. The ritual went as follows: First the criminal was convicted and sentenced. Then there was some stabbing and slashing of the criminal and lemon juice was placed on their chest. Once the criminal's screams dissipated the black magic
Batak style
...Plus me and my wheels. was thought to have escaped from the body. Then the beheading would take place followed by the body being chopped, cooked and eaten. The king's soldiers would eat the executed because they believed by consuming the flesh it left no spirit behind. The heart and blood from the heart were reserved for the king only, which were believed to give him more power and strength upon consumption.
These rituals along with the people's animistic beliefs withered away as missionaries came to the island in 1861 introducing Christianity. Today 99%!o(MISSING)f the area's people are Christian and only 1%!a(MISSING)nimistic. But, don't worry, that 1%!d(MISSING)oesn't practice cannibalism any more... or does it?
*queue evil laugh* Atmosphere and Scenery: I want to emphasize this is truly a place in Southeast Asia that's been kept hidden from the typical tourist trek. If you crave an original experience of grand individualism and untainted culture, than for you Sumatra is perfection. Zipping around the hilly terrain on this island made me feel (for the first time in awhile) that I was miles away from home. The familiarity of Starbucks and McDonald's signs are absent. English signs are scarce. Each town has a
Lake
Great view village ambience void of franchises and constructed symmetry. Nature is still the primary resident and man-made structures, the minority. I have this feeling that this is what most of Southeast Asia was like before the tourism industry slowly began to corrupt it's authenticity. The massive Lake Toba resembles more of a sea; so vast and on cloudy days when the rolling mountain-scapes fade into the mist the water appears to have no end. On a clear day the epic mountains encompass the lake; reminders of the power that captivates this giant body of water.
People: I tend to meet friendly people everywhere I travel to, but the abundance of smiles and gestures I've experienced here may just take the cake. From the staff at the guesthouse, to the random farmers. The children walking home from school, and the other motorcyclists on the road. Everyone is so welcoming.The English speakers here are oddly intermittent. The guy in the small food market (though very friendly) seemed to speak no English. Then the woman walking her leashed oxen through a field had enough English skills to engage in a long conversation. The entire time here I never felt hustled or tricked into
paying more money for something. I was offered home cooked meals at no charge. I made friends. I just simply seemed to connect with the locals. I have a theory that the gecko in them makes them more open to human interactions especially with foreigners. The whole island is just dripping with genuineness.
Hutabolon: This remote village is the kind you dream of stumbling upon. I feel I've stepped into the main layout in a National Geographic magazine. It reminds me why I travel and why I go to such outlandish locations. Rice terraces encompass the area and grazing oxen drenched in mud rule the fields.
"It's difficult to get to..." a man in the village explains then pauses. He's describing the trek to the waterfall jutting from the nearby cliffs. Regardless, we elect to give it a try. Our leader guides us through the jungle with a single machete. Trudging through muck, overgrowth, vines, rocks; a leech latches on to my foot for a suckle. I drown it in dirt and wipe it off, blood oozing from the bite. Moving forward, and upward toward the base of the falls, we climb up mossy soaked boulders, and through
grasses that tower above my hat. Then the canopy widens into a misty clearing and reveals the plunging waters. An oasis true to the name. A hidden bathing grounds accessible by no road nor trail. As I strip down to my shorts and throw myself under the falls, I tilt my head back, running my hands through my hair like in some cliche shampoo commercial and chuckle in disbelief that THIS is actually my life.
The hike down proves equally treacherous and every time I try to stop for a picture my guide insists, "come on, let's go!" "I'm coming, I'm coming," I interject. Back down in the village I chat and take some photos with the locals, then escape the downpour with a cup of tea in a traditional Batak house with a canoe-shaped roof. A curious young boy keeps coming near me only to be scolded by his mother. I gather she is probably telling him not to be rude. I gesture to him to come over while smiling at his mom to assure her that it's fine. I whip out the iPhone and show him a few games. He is ecstatic.
Well, the rain only
intensifies leaving me with an hour-long motorbike drive in a torrential cloudburst. And of course I don't have a jacket. Shivering to my soul, I arrive safely at my guesthouse and leap into the surprisingly warm and soothing lake. The next morning (surprise, surprise) I wake up sick.
The next day: I spend some quality time with my decongestant tablets, my iPad and the guesthouse WiFi. I'm battling a head cold which is likely a result of my soaked drive home the day prior. Taking it easy with a semi-permanent spot on the sofa (equipt with lake-view) I engage in some online streaming American television. I also manage to pull out a huge splinter from my bare foot (another jungle trek wound). Sweet recovery… *blissful sigh* well deserved and needed.
Let's wrap things up! This blog entry is a little shorter than my average entry, which tends to happen when I come across a place that really tugs on my soul. When I have an experience like I have had here, even I am a little lost for words. In a way I think it keeps it more intimate to not throw it all out there for
the online world to dissect and judge. Maybe that makes me a bad blogger. I don't know, but I will say one last thing. And I don't say this often (though my mother seems to disagree)... This is one of my
FAVORITE areas I've ever been to. There's a truly unspoiled charm here that envelops the ideals I think most people hope for when planning a trip to Southeast Asia. The traditions, the land, the
PEOPLE, and the overall essence are all well preserved with only a trivial stain of the Western world visible. Sumatra is off the typical Asian tourist path, and maybe it's for the best. The few who journey here may have a more authentic experience because of it.
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RENanDREW
Ren & Andrew
favourite place...
haha we say that all the time! sounds like a fantastic location - look forward to more posts from sumatra.