java...wonders of the world...and a bit of surfing.......

Yogyakarta

Another early pre dawn start to the day with a flight from Bali to Java. The city of yogya` immediately strikes us as organised and clean.

From the airport it’s equal for all on the rules of catching a taxi. We hunt around for a room and settle in for a quiet day. We stay near Jalan Sosrowijayan, a really groovy inner city area with narrow gangs (walkways), little restaurants and losmens displaying ‘Full’ signs. Javanese tourists are in Yogya enmass and fill the main streets sidewalks and department stores looking for Idul Fitri sales bargains, a bit like Boxing Day sales.

Becaks, bikes, kaki limas, cars, buses, motorbikes and horses..its all here yet the city seems very organised.

An evening dinner and Ramayana performance is a real touristy outing. Buffet dinner and then the show moved indoors because of rain. It didn’t quite have the authentic feel that you get when performed in front of a temple or palace....R

Prambanan temple

We use the local public bus service to and from Prambanan an extremely thorough service and only 40cents for a 40min ride. The temple complex is spread out over a large area, but the main Hindu and Buddhist temples are within a reserve. The Shiva Temple is impressive and surrounded by partly or completely fallen outer temples. Rows of stone are awaiting restoration. The Buddhist Temple is in a similar state and the ground surrounding the fallen shrines shows the buckling from the 2006 earthquake. We stand there alone with only the restoration team hammering away in the back ground, the place still awesome in a broken state.............R

Borobudor

Going early to Borobudor proves to be a great idea; the hordes don’t arrive till later. We arrive at 6am for the opening of the gates.

With the mist still enshrouding the valleys, the outline of the temple is just visible. Its strength and beauty are awesome. As we approach, the size becomes more obvious, it’s truly a magnificent structure. Built from 2 million blocks of lava stone, it is in the form of a massive stupa. There are six square terraces topped by three circular ones. Four stairways lead to the top, north south east and west.

Although I want to walk the path of the monks, we also have a desire to reach the top before the crowds arrive so we can enjoy its peace. Once again I find it hard to find words. Surrounded by mountains, there’s a tranquillity that seems to penetrate my soul. Buddha statues abound although many have lost their heads!...(But haven’t we all!)

There’s only a smattering of people around so we really get a sense of the place. We sit as the early sun begins to penetrate all the crevices and highlight the incredible relief carvings. Feeling a tad out there and exposed as the crowds begin to arrive we abandon our meditation and head back to the base.. Starting at the eastern entrance, the WAY, is to walk clockwise all around each level. The walls inside and out are carved with the stories of the Buddha, a textbook of Buddhist doctrines. The lower levels are square in formation and I love coming around the corners to be greeted by yet another Buddha image staring serenely down at me with another backdrop of ever-changing scenery. There are a total of 504 of them! Each level signifies the “journey”, spiralling up to the heavens. The final three levels are circular, symbolising reaching nirvana. At this top level there are another 72 buddhas encased in huge latticed stupas. An enormous central solid stupa caps it off.

It’s a five km walk to reach the top, time going up a level at the eastern stairwell. Our walk around is peaceful and calming...walking a giant mandala. Most people just go straight to the top so we avoid the masses, that is, until we get to the last 3 levels and by this time the crowds are huge. It’s Saturday and still Idul Fitr holiday so it’s very crowded. I continue my way uninterrupted but dodging people. At the final exit point i am asked to be photographed with “my family” ... I am so relieved the request didn’t come sooner as I witness several tourists been asked to be part of family photographs. I completed the walk in my uninterrupted way....bliss.

It’s a wonder........ Ax
















Batukaras

We finish our Indo trip with 4days at the coast, an over night bus from Yogya to get here. At the end of a bay is the village of Batukaras, picturesque with trees reaching down to the water from the rocky outcrops. Surf breaks from the point and runs down the beach to a second point and on to the next beach. Its 7am when we arrive and you can’t see the beach or water for the local tourists who come and go in and endless stream until dark. Truck tires, boogie boards and banana boat rides to hire and pop music blarring from the life guard tower keep them amused. And if you can’t swim you just sit in the water and let it tumble you along. They leave in an entertaining array of vehicles from big buses, overflowing cattle trucks, small utes, cars and, up to 5 per motor scooter. Although its chaos this first day..the crowd thins out the next day as the holidays finish and everyone returns to school/work.

The number of locals surfing is only a few, so once you’re beyond the shore you have the waves to yourself. The weather is not idyllic with tropical storms dumping huge amounts of rain throughout the day and overnight. The sun makes a brief appearance one day but we still don’t know the orientation of the beach. We are told East-West, giving the place a similar lay out to Byron, the surf and how the waves break are very similar....... R

Komodo to Lombok by boat.

Boat trip to Lombok 9/9/10-13/9/10

As I sit here now there are only a few sounds that surround me. There’s the slapping of the domino cards on the deck as the crew play a lively game adding their calls every now and then of “Mama” as they all refer to me ...There’s the flipping sound every once in a while, as the fish, who have diligently evaded our hooks, surface, laughing at us. And finally, there’s the distant sound of gentle voices from both ours and the nearby boat.

We are at anchor. I am sitting on the upstairs deck which overlooks the scene. Our boat’s destination; Lombok.

We left Labuan-Bajo at ten this morning and our first stop was Rinca Island. Rinca Island is nearby to Komodo and is one of the only other Islands to harbour the infamous Komodo dragons. The island didn’t disappoint.

The dragons are certainly impressive. We arrived when it was hot and the dragons rest in the heat of the day. Several were sleeping under the small house that the rangers reside in. I could only see three, and even though they were so huge there were actually five ,,,,their camouflage is quite incredible.


On a short hike we pass a female guarding her nest, they use the local bush turkeys nest mound and make several false holes and lay their eggs in one. The guide approaches closely and indicates that we should follow to get a better photo. ‘Its ok, they don’t wake up till 3 o’clock’ he tells us; it's 2.45!
 Returning from our hike we see several komodos who have now come ‘alive’. As they proudly parade with their heads held high, it’s only when they face you that you become aware of just how huge and intimidating they really are. Suddenly these docile looking reptiles take on a demeanour of terror: this is no zoo and these are wild creatures!

Snorkelling around these islands is part of our trip. Pantai Merah (red beach) is an amazing stop. The boat anchors in deep water and we swim over the dark drop off onto the reef. With unbelievable visibility the coral here is truly exquisite and the fish variety is awesome. The downside is its cold and I cannot last too long in the water. Reece sees mantas and a stingray. We leave here and venture on to our overnight stop. The water is like a millpond in the sheltered bay. We anchor just off an island with a huge fruit bat colony. Arriving right on dusk the bats are beginning their evening parade into the skies. Dinner arrives miraculously from the rear of the boat.

Komodo Island is much bigger than I expected and so are the dragons. Although we didn’t spot any on our trek we were treated to many wild deer, birds...oh yes a baby komodo in a tree. They live in the trees for the first few years of their lives to escape the hungry awaiting jaws of their parents!

Returning to the main area several are laying around. Apparently they rest here and hang around because of the smell of the kitchen. The rangers insist they don’t feed them....

Again I am amazed at their camouflage(or maybe I’m just blind!!). I think it’s their overall being that somehow mesmerises me, as once again I fail to see one lying quite close to me. I’m too enthralled checking out its mate to notice it and alarm the rangers at my closeness.

Sharing the boat with seven other tourists and a crew of five makes our journey a happy and cruisy one. The crew have adopted me as ‘mamma’. It’s in the early hours when they call it out at the top of their voices, regardless of the sleepers, that I feel like crawling into a hole!! But being on deck before sunrise is awesome and they quickly deliver me tea as we await the sunrise.

I teach English to the crew when things are quiet. One of the men has taken to non-stop studying of my dictionary.....I leave it with him to continue his study and he is delighted. We share a lot of laughs and stories.

We are treated to several great snorkelling spots and on the 3rd day a beautiful waterfall for a much appreciated freshwater shower!!! The uplifted coral reef forming amazing shaped natural pools.

The final morning we start motoring at about 4am. As the sun begins its inevitable, Rinjani (Lombok’s dominating volcano) emerges . Bathed in beautiful pink light and straight ahead of us, it’s a stunning way to start the day. I am captivated by its size and beauty.

We arrive on Lombok several hours later and make our way to Kuta, the beach down south. ....Ax







Kuta Lombok

The whole tourist scene at this other Kuta is so different to the Bali name sake. A totally different world. Quiet, relaxed and slow paced, with great nearby surf spots, amazing headlands at the end of every little cove, we hire a bike and spend the day driving along the coast stopping for lunch at a restaurant overlooking the coast from high on a hill........spectacular

We didn’t get to hang around and enjoy it as we booked a cheap flight to Yogyakarta, prices and availability skyrocketing over the Idul Fitri holiday period. Transport back to Bali takes a whole day- bus, ferry, bemo. Arriving at the other Kuta in grid locked traffic and 6pm madness we walk the 2kms to accommodation. I go and pick up my board and excess baggage that was left with Nyoman Dira. At his house we sit and have kopi, I tell him of our adventures- snorkelling, bus travel, ceremonies and boat trips. He tells me of his similar travels 30yrs ago, ending with ‘you never forget such memories....’. His wife brings an orange juice and tells him I look more skinny and tired. After 2wks on the road you do start to feel it.......R

Traditional village to secluded island - Bena to Seriya (Flores)

Bajawa

An early morning pick up in a bemo, hired for the day, and we go to the base of Wawo Muda for a hike to see the recently erupted scar and small crater lakes. Hiking through Eucalypts planted for hardwood, coffee and bamboo (tree size canes). About an hour and a half up to the rim past old craters which are fully vegetated and as the mist rolls in again see the crater. Erupted in 2001 for 2 days then stopped and nothing since.

 From there to Bena, a traditional Ngada village, and again the rolling mist adds to the occasion by blocking everything else from view and leaving only the village with all its totems and megaliths visible. The feeling is of total isolation in a truly foreign land. This is a much larger village than Bea, and is set out the same- two rows of clan houses and totems in the area between. Again the juxtaposition of Catholicism and animism – catholic grave stones with buffalo blood smeared ancestor totems standing side by side.

It starts raining and we join an elderly couple on their front veranda, local kopi and tea, we watch her weave and I buy another sarong, a heavy blanket weight. They are both red mouthed from betel nut and have a good laugh as we show them photos from my wallet of Jarrad and Jordan, picking which is which from baby to now. Our guide shows real soothsaying potential by accurately describing their characteristic from the look in their eyes in the photos.

Driving back to Bajawa we pass through what were once traditional villages that now have brick and tin roofed houses, the tin roofs in the shape of the traditional grass version, and the roof totems cut from tin. One village has ancestor totems beside the soccer field another in the front yard of a house next to the road. This is modern living catching up to traditional village life.




We finish the day at a hot spring, the main bubbling pool and run off full of locals, the swimming pool is less crowded and hot enough. A few local men show their ‘struggling’ swimming style and get a free lesson on technique.

We leave Bajawa and head to Ruteng on a local bus and, with the confusion and barrier of language, get a ride at half the local price. At Ruteng the accommodation is rough and we stay overnight only and leave early for Labuan-Bajo winding our way to the west coast.

At the hotels across Flores we were welcomed and shown our rooms by students from Ruteng Tourism High School doing their third year placements, they would reappear shortly after check in and ask if they may sit. After an hour of conversation, starting very regimented- ‘your name...where are you from....why are you here....do you like the area...’ and then more informal. Them practicing their english, and us our indo, then they would wander off to do their work.....R

Seriya Island

The town of Labuan –Bajo is the west port of Flores. It’s an interesting port and we overlook the harbour from our elevated room, looking out to many islands. We arrive on the last night of Ramadan...The start of Idul Fitr and the streets come alive with a variety of small trucks/floats with incredibly kitsch mosques on the back, flashing lights and all! After staying in Labuan-Bajo for one night we head to Seriya Island. An hour boat trip and its gorgeous!. Only about 7 bungalows right on the sand. The water is aqua blue and we look out onto distant islands. There’s no fresh water on the island and so water and electricity are on rations...it suits us just fine!! There’s nothing to do except swim, snorkel, take a hike up the one hill, or, relax!.

I choose the latter, Reece climbs the hill several times, and that’s just in the first hour!

No, he does relax and we wind down very easily...

The snorkelling is once again exquisite with huge single clams just a meter off shore, seahorses, starfish as big as footballs, sea slugs and huge varieties of fish and corals.

The island is naturally divided in two by a mangrove swamp and sand dune with a fence running across the sand dune. Half of the island is nearly denuded by the one small Bugis Village’s goats. The other half is dry and sparse. The view from the top of the hill is stunning and the surrounding waters and islands are idyllic.

It’s a bit hard to leave but we have organised a boat to Lombok. Ax

Bajawa..A ceremony to remember...animism/ traditional village

Bajawa..a ceremony to remember....


We leave early in a shared car, faster and more comfortable than the bus and arrive in Bajawa. It is here that we meet Bene who takes us to the village of Bea. Bea is a traditional village and we have arrived at a very special time. There is a major ceremony taking place for the opening/blessing of a new house. It is a matriarchal village and a new house has been built.

The surrounding villagers have, over some time, been helping to build this house and now is the time to pay them back, not with money but a huge ceremony. Emmanuel is a young man of the village with great English and it is his Aunty’s house that is being celebrated.

The four upright structures that look like small huts/umbrellas denote the four clans who live here. Worship of the ancestors is an integral part of their life. Four clans but fifty families, maybe 200 people. But today, sitting in the ‘courtyard’ are possibly 800 people ...and basically all looking at us!

The atmosphere is charged as many of the surrounding villagers make their way to the ceremony. They all come with their bags/baskets to be filled with rice and some of the sacrificed meat. Just prior to our arrival several beasts have been sacrificed. We are invited into the village but even more, into the ceremonial sacred place, the centre of the new home. This is the centre of all importance. The room has two women sitting on the right, four men on the left. Two bags adorned with horse(?) hair hang on the rear wall. These hold the spirits of their ancestors. Here we sit in a small huddled group. The cooking hearth has been lit for the first time today and after this day the room can be slept in as they have asked permission from the ancestors.

Sat on bamboo poles sliced in half longways, the villagers await as we are part of the ceremony within. We are served rice in baskets with several lumps of buffalo and pig meat. We are to taste this as a symbol, but not eat it as it’s not fully cooked and only symbolic. This is then tipped out and we are served again. This time rice with pig liver and some chillie.

We await while the “very important man”, the shaman, talks over his arak. He asks permission of the ancestors to allow this house to be opened and for the spirits to protect the house and all the people.

The buffalo blood is sacred and so is the pig’s liver. Both these thing are central to the ceremony.

The chosen man to sacrifice the buffalo has been decided by a special bamboo stick which is burned on one end and then forms a type of ‘compass’ which chooses the prospective man to carry out the sacrifice. The sacrifice is performed by a knife slice to head and it is imperative not to get any spurting blood on you or you are whisked away to another ceremony to be cleansed so evil does not come to you. When the beast has fallen, spilt blood is everywhere and no longer an issue with regard to getting it on you.

The blood of the buffalo is collected and is highly sacred. It is smeared all over the ancestral totem poles as a symbol of fertility. These poles are intricately carved and everything here has a meaning and a ceremony attached.

The poles are from a particular tree grown near Labuan Bajo a town at the western end of Flores. A group of men are sent to search for their ancestral pole. When the right tree is located a ceremony takes place to ask the ancestors if it is the correct one. If correct, another ceremony takes place to ask permission to cut the tree. A buffalo sacrifice takes place. The tree is then cut and brought back to the outside of the village. Another ceremony asks permission to the ancestors to bring it into the village, another to carve it. Another to erect it. Once put into place the roof structure is quickly completed to protect the ancestors.

We drink arak (palm spirit similar to kerosene!) given to us by the leaders and then tuak (palm wine much worse) Actually the arak tastes good and everything seems totally surreal, in particular when we step out and there are hundreds of people awaiting .

Once again I wish I had words to describe the humble feelings and unbelievable experience we have partaken in. I feel totally honoured and find myself unable to speak for a long time.

We are encouraged to document the ceremony in aid of keeping the traditions alive and encouraging more tourists. (Here, I must say that my words are from my understanding of the information spoken by Emmanuel, and I am by no means believing i am an expert!!.)


We are introduced to the head of the village and whilst shaking hands pass on a donation. How much do you give for such an experience.??

The two men who have been chosen to sacrifice the beasts are sat on a platform, surrounded now by an enormous mound of cooked meat. One is a young boy of perhaps 13 years. They both wear the sacred neck adornments of their ancestors. These huge shell necklaces frame their exquisite faces and they emanate a position of importance. As the deed of sacrifice in incredibly arduous and dangerous, the young boy just had to gesture the deed and not carry it out completely.

We are told of the incredible importance of this ceremony, it only takes places once in 30 40 50 years. ...The ancestors have allowed us to be part of it.

When we get back home I sit in silence for a long time, tears flow uncontrollably.

Reece’s response is somewhat similar.....”what the F... .just happened to us...how were we chosen to be part of that...?”

We sit and meditate....

....Axx