I knew Indonesia would be a unique trip when I first joined about a dozen French students to cross Java and Bali in less than two weeks. Plans were made and tickets were bought; exactly four hours after my mercifully pre-recess-week mid-terms finished I was on a mostly empty flight to Jakarta, Indonesia’s capital city of 8 million. Perhaps I should have taken this as a sign that no one likes to travel to Jakarta. Despite the choking smog, deafening tuk-tuks, and no real attractions, we made the best of our 2-day stop before boarding a mini-bus to Yogyakarta.
Indonesia is beautiful year-round – lush tropical vegetation, rolling hills, and bright just-south-of-the-equator sun. I quickly learned that a smile and a ‘selamat pagi’ (good morning) can easily bridge the cultural divide. In Indonesia, like Malaysia, haggling is the standard of business. The song and dance is always the same: they give you a price inflated about two to five times the actual value, you counter with a quarter of that. They scoff, say that is far too cheap, or simply laugh in your face. Then they lower, you counter, they say no, you walk away, and then they shout the real price to your back – mission accomplished. I haggled everything from hotel stays to a haircut (which was a mistake). The food is delicious: they have fried rice to a science and cheap, tasty satay is ubiquitous, the little grills seem to hiding under rocks and behind bushes wherever you go.
In Yogyakarta my group and I visited the Prambanan and Borobudur temples, huge Hindu and Buddhist, respectively, complexes dating from the ninth century. Borobudur was a surprise; I was expecting a serene vista befitting the hundreds of thousand-year-old Buddhas but found a veritable amusement park surrounded by hundreds of shouting hawker stands. Children were climbing on priceless reliefs and people sloppily picnicked on ancient pedestals; I was plainly disappointed. In addition to the temples my group joined me on my favorite part of the entire journey – hiking an active volcano. We began around midnight on a trail that became more grueling as we progressed: first a paved road, then a switchback trail, followed by an inclined scrubland on dusty volcanic soil, and finally a scramble up barren rock, all the while racing the sunrise to the summit. Only half of us made it to the smoking crater at the peak, where we watched in awe as the beautiful sunrise exposed the hellscape of jagged, sulfur-covered rock riddled with fuming steam vents. On the return trek we were greeted by local farmers who climb, in only flip-flops, halfway up the mountain every morning to cut huge bunches of grasses to feed their cows. Backbreaking work and still a smile and hello for the pampered tourists. Now it was back on the bus with us for a 24 hour ride to Denpassar, Bali.
After a pre-dawn ferry ride from Java to Bali, we could see the volcanoes of Java behind and the volcanoes of Bali ahead. The Balinese people are mostly Hindu, in contrast to the Muslim majority of Indonesia; there are more shrines, temples, and palaces than you can shake a stick at. Even in touristy Kuta Beach, world famous for its sun and surf, every building and street has a shrine where incense is burned and offerings of flowers, food, and money are placed daily as bringers of good luck from God. Finally we took it easy, enjoying the almost-too-perfect beaches and landscape. Despite my personal string of bad luck involving a rented scooter and corrupt police, we traveled the island admiring the paradise. The Balinese have no word for ‘art’ – art is ubiquitous and simply part of their culture, from numerous painting styles to shrine carvings to beautiful sculptures. Bali is really the most unique destination I’ve reached: swarmed with sun burnt Australians in the south, friendly locals at every corner offering services and help (for a price), and undersea wrecks only a few steps from black sand beaches; all surrounding the holy volcano of Mount Agung. Each of the unique towns could have been a complete vacation in themselves.
As I was sitting in the airport on my way back to Singapore, sun burnt, broke, and feeling a cold approaching, I looked back on this journey as one my better sojourns: satisfying, beautiful, and completely new to me. Here’s hoping I can squeeze in more before the end of the semester.
