How quick a move from necessity to luxury. Running water and reliable transport. Funny... not funny haha, but rather funny huh.
I don’t dare to look under the bed. Whatever noise a cockroach makes, I think I hear it... times 20. The walls a dingy stained yellow. ‘Love’ scribbled and smeared in black pen. A baron (but large!) bed. A bottom sheet and pillow. Just. A few stray long hairs remain from the previous guest. The street life of the Sosrowijayan area of Yogyakarta bustles with street vendors selling their infamous batik wears. Andongs (horse and cart) and becaks (guy on bike with cart) the local transports of choice. As night sets in so do an abundant of warungs (street food sellers). Their straw mats cover the sidewalks for people to sit.
Arrived on Java a week ago. The 12 VSO ‘newbies’ hand-in-hand. Each spring all the VSO volunteers across Indonesia congregate for an annual conference. A time to share, learn, network, speak in English, and generally relish in a bit of western debauchery. For many the opportunity to socialize with co-patriots and fellow volunteers, as well as the general escape to civilization, is rare. Some volunteer as a career move. Some volunteer for adventure. Some volunteer on mission of personal discovery. Some volunteer in an effort to make a difference in our ever-fluid global community. Some are simply a motley… me. Doctors and social workers. Management consultants and teachers. Computer wizards and engineers. Nutritionists and family planners. Foresters and agriculturalists. Retired, mid-career, and new entries.
Saturday was a day to ‘give back’… a visible contribution. Is being here as a volunteer insufficient? We split. Part to an orphanage to paint. Part to plant trees in an effort to ‘off-set our global footprint’ and reduce erosion on Gunung Merapi (Mountain of Fire). I was excited for something physical after several weeks of being quite sedentary in classes, trapped by the Bali heat. The sun bright as we arrived. Before we spring into action, the Indonesian formalities. The important village leaders file onto stage and sit cross legged. Each given an opportunity for a windy address. Summary: Welcome. Sweet tea and snacks are passed around. Individually wrapped and packaged. What happened to environmentalism? The notions of reduce, reuse, and recycle completely foreign.
2 hours later.
We climb up the hillside through vegetable patches. Cabbage. Cauliflower. Carrots. Onions. A mist conceals the blue sky. Just in time. We arrive at our tree planting destination each with 10 seedlings in tow. The rain cuts loose. Our matching 4-H green VSO t-shirts darkening with moisture. The locals linger under umbrellas. They try to coax us into smiling photo poses. As the rain streams down my face, I could care less about looking into the camera.
The water cascades down the path. Rapids. We throw it in and slowly make our way down. Soaking. A mere handful of trees planted. I am skeptical that our carbon footprints have been reduced.
Not all work and rain. Took the opportunity to fill my tourist role.
Borobudur
A once long forgotten Buddhist powerhouse on the now Muslim island.
The base level a representation of the everyday world. Images of Buddha progress to Nirvana as we climb to the top of the man-made, spiritual, mountain-esque temple.
Prambanan
A massive complex of Hindu temples from the 8th – 10th centuries. Dark spires shooting out of the earth.
Candi Cete and Candi Sukuh
The erotic temples. The former masculine. The later feminine. Some representations require much imagination while others are vivid and straight up.
Dieng Plateau
‘Abode of the Gods’… Oldest Hindu temples on Java.
Bubbling sulphur lakes… some simmer, some boil. Steam rises and engulfs.
Agriculturally rich.
Bird Market
I feel the bird flu coming on. Good sense told me to avoid it but curiosity made me go. Well worth the risk… cough cough. Like a kid in a cultural candy store. A vast range of birds fill every crevasse of the gang (alley). The copious cages block out the mid-day sunlight.
The erotic temples. The former masculine. The later feminine. Some representations require much imagination while others are vivid and straight up.
Dieng Plateau
‘Abode of the Gods’… Oldest Hindu temples on Java.
Bubbling sulphur lakes… some simmer, some boil. Steam rises and engulfs.
Agriculturally rich.
Bird Market
I feel the bird flu coming on. Good sense told me to avoid it but curiosity made me go. Well worth the risk… cough cough. Like a kid in a cultural candy store. A vast range of birds fill every crevasse of the gang (alley). The copious cages block out the mid-day sunlight.
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