The Trek to Mount Bromo

Due to some mix up, the driver was not here to pick us up at the Surabaya airport and we had prepaid.  When something like this happens in a foreign country where not everyone speaks good English, it can be the cause of some anxiety.  But Judith was on phone soon, after a few challenges, and was told that the driver was waiting at the train station and it would take 30-45 minutes to get to the airport.  He did come thankfully.  This resulted in a 90 minute delay in getting started on our 3 + hour road trip through insane traffic. But once we started up the mountain we saw an entirely different view of Indonesia. It all started when turned off the main road and started up the mountain.  Soon the vegetation started to change and the road turned from a smooth wide 2 lane avenue with few mild curves to a rough, narrower road with hairpins turns the norm. 

We arrived at the Java Banana hotel, high up the mountain, and the receptionist had no idea of our problem.  We were angry that we missed seeing the sunset due to our delay plus all the hassle we had to do through. We had difficulty negotiating some compensation at first, but in the end things were made right. The room had a great view and was well appointed. There is no internet and no TV except fuzzy local channels, but we didn't care as our main priority was to get up at 3 AM and travel up the mountain via jeep, horse, and foot to reach a high spot for viewing the break of day and to see the shadows and colors around Mt. Bromo, an active volcano.

We had the sequence of events explained to us when we checked in, so as scheduled we were ready to hop into a jeep at 3:30 AM and after 20 minutes up a twisty, dusty, bumpy road upward, the caravan of jeeps peeled off and parked.  I unfold my legs and climbed out.  Up the trail we started and after rounding a curve, came upon the horses and horse valets (to make up a concept) who wanted money to rent their wiry, small horses to take us up the mountain.  It did not take long for us to agree that horsepower was the way to go.  And best of all, the men walked with the horse leading him by the reins.  All we had to do is hang on for dear life.  This is not an exaggeration.    

But eventually the trail narrows again requiring the last leg to manpower.  Fortunately, there are well defined steps and we reach the top, stopping along the way to let our lungs take in as much oxygen as the thin air will allow.  The flat area at the viewing point looks like a miniature village with the local Tenggerese people there with small fires ablaze to heat water for instant coffee, tea, or hot chocolate to sell to the tourist and well as knit hats and handicrafts.

We arrive about 5 minutes before the sky starts to light up.  Capturing the sequence of the sun rise is on everyone’s agenda as people jostle amongst each other to position their cameras with clear shots of the event.

Soon there is enough light to see the three volcanoes, two which line up as if drawn from the same axis.

In the foreground is extinct Mt. Batok with Mt. Semeru behind it.  Mt. Bromo is just to the left of Mt. Batok.  The top of the volcano has been blown off.  It last erupted in January 2011.  Mt. Semeru is one of the most active volcanoes in Indonesia, spewing off ash and smoke about every 20 minutes.

After more light I can see how far down the jeeps are parked.

In our descent, clutching onto the horse’s saddle becomes even more challenging because we need to lean back slightly due to the steepness of the slope.  Back in our jeeps, we travel to another vista where we can see the other jeeps trekking across the “Sea of Sand” to the Hindu temple at the foot of Mt. Bromo.  Look closely to find it.

We declined this part of the tour due to the requirement to do more climbing in the volcanic dust up a very narrow trail without the aid of horsepower.

 Legend of Mount Bromo

There is legend related to Mount Bromo and the region of Tengger. According to this legend, there was a 15th century princess named Roro Anteng from Majapahit who started a principality with her husband Joko Seger. They named the principality Tengger, an amalgam of the last syllable of both their names.

Being childless for many years, the royal couple made a trip up Mount Bromo to seek the help of the mountain gods in granting them a child. The gods agreed to their request, telling them that they would have 25 children, but demanded that they sacrifice their final child. Together, the couple had 24 children.

When the last and final child was born, Roro Anteng refused to sacrifice it. The mountain gods sent fire and brimstone until she finally relented. After the child was thrown into the crater of the volcano, anhis voice was heard asking that an annual ceremony be performed to appease the gods. The ceremony was still being performed to this day. It takes place on the 14th day of the full moon Kesodo, according to the Tenggerese calendar. Rice, fruits, vegetables, flowers and livestock are offered to the mountain gods.

Dear readers, it strikes me that if you happened to be born into a Tenggerese family, you would probably be trekking up to the rim of the cauldron each year, chicken and rice in hand feed the god anhis.  What you wouldn’t be doing is observing special dietary rules, travelling to Mecca, confessing your sins, setting up nativity scenes at winter solstice, going through prostrating rituals, lighting a lot of incense, wearing funny hats, or privately donning special underwear.  You probably would hope that your capricious god would be satisfied enough protect you from the dangers of the world and offer your inner spirit a safe haven after your earthy remains are scattered to the winds.  The more pious amongst your people would know that your god has favored your tribe with the unquestionable truth on how to achieve everlasting peace and any other visions need to be rejected by whatever means necessary to keep your mind cleansed of disturbing evidence to the contrary.

Our jeep driver must have been blessed with skill, acquired knowledge, and confidence because we arrived back at the Java Banana safely.  We took time to meander through the unique flora and feel the warm sun increase the temperature to a pleasant level as we wait for breakfast.

This photo was shot from the grounds showing the small but beautiful Tenggerese houses and an onion field which, along with potatoes and cabbage thrive in the rich soil and cool temperatures.  The houses are constructed mostly with tile and cement which probably is a result of learning to keep trees to help prevent soil erosion.

We leave late morning for our trip to Surabaya and have a chance to see the terrain, villages, and people as we wind our way downward.  Our delayed trip up the mountain was done with darkness close at hand.

We get to the main road to Surabaya and our young driver maneuvers in and out of out-of-this-world traffic insanity of motorcycles, aggressive tour buses, slow over-loaded trucks, ox-carts, bicycles, and risk taking cars and after over 3 hours we get to our hotel in Surabaya, the Hotel Majapahit Surabaya.

Hotel was built around 1910 and is in great shape with 143 rooms and the largest Presidential Suite in Asia. It has a very rich history. I wrote a review on Trip Advisor entitled, “Grand, Old, Elegant Hotel, and great value”. In the restrooms outside of the rooms in other parts of the hotel, it has pull chains for the toilets and long urinals in the men's rooms. Floor standing mirrors, old heavy wooden furniture in great shape, old chandeliers and ceiling fans.  The hotel sits on a very busy street but the property extends far away from the street and no traffic could be heard. 

Judith had business the next day and I hung out at the pool and spa relaxing before travelling back to Jakarta the next day.  There are so many wonderful places to visit in Indonesia and Mt. Bromo and Surabaya should be on any tourist’s short list.

Musings from a 75 Years Old (soon to be 76)

It is 2:30 in the morning.  I have been awake for 2 hours.  I am still jet lagged after returning a week ago from Indonesia, where the time difference is exactly 12 hours, so day is night and night is day.  My body is still confused. 

I know I still have a brief time of lucid thoughts and energy before my brain and focus start to become numb.  So I am driven to translate things running through my mind onto “paper” while I am afforded the opportunity to display what writing talent that I possess.

Let me start by saying that I am not always sure about the degree of writing talent I possess, but I just received a message from someone that read a post I made to my blog I wrote a few years ago about my life as a paper carrier. 

So I opened my blog, signed in, and maneuvered back to my post and re-read it.  I discovered that I like my story much more now that when I wrote.  I was reliving my 64 year old experiences again through the eyes of a 75 year old, and it seemed both like ancient history and like it happened last week.

And it hit me how extremely important my experiences were then to who I am today.  What is so very profound is that I could not have felt the depth of this insight 5 or 10 years ago.  Surely, I am at a wondrous position to see how everything in the past has melded into the present with a richness of insight not within my grasp before. 

I closed my blog and decided to catch up on some internet news and articles.  This is something a do regularly.  I started to read a review of a play written my Lizzie Simon called “Man and Boy”, a father and son drama and I then I read the following sentence.

“Basil (the son) is addicted to the mere whiff of intimacy with his father, operating without strategy or self-regard in an effort to get what isn’t there to be gotten.”

Dear readers, everyone seeking self-discovery and to those who think they already know themselves can now stop and reflect upon how much searching for self-validation we have made in our lives to fulfill buried needs that yearn for resolution. 

Suddenly all my efforts, to connect to my father became front and center.  They are too numerous to list.  I love it when I have insights that were previously only around in the fog of semi-consciousness waiting for the sun to shine and the fog to dissipate.

In my next stream of consciousness, I am reminded how Master Po taught his young grasshopper in the TV series, “Kung Fu”

Master Po: Close your eyes. What do you hear?
Young Caine: I hear the water, I hear the birds.
Po: Do you hear your own heartbeat?
Caine: No.
Po: Do you hear the grasshopper which is at your feet?
Caine: Old man, how is it that you hear these things?
Po: Young man, how is it that you do not?

It is after 4 AM now.  I have had an epiphany but sleep is now calling me. 

Malawi 2011

The primary purpose of our latest trip to Malawi was to again attend a male circumcision ceremony for young Malawi boys from the Yao tribe, who are Muslims.  It has been 3 years since attending other circumcision ceremonies and there were several differences noted. 

One of the present problems in the country as a whole is one of fuel storage.  Long lines of cars and vans are seen at every gas station where there is news that they have fuel or fuel will be delivered the next day.  People line up in the evening and sleep in their cars and vans to make sure they get fuel the next day.  The storage of diesel fuel is more acute, resulting in large trucks parking at the service stations waiting for fuel to arrive, idling labor and the supply of goods and services.   The storage of fuel is ultimately tied into the real or perceived economic strength of the country to pay its bills. 

Another very noticeable thing is the presence of the Chinese.  China has already built one new hotel and is in the process of building a very large hotel which will be one of the tallest buildings in the country.  It's the country's first five-star hotel, $90m worth of well-appointed rooms, a state-of-the-art conference center and 14 opulent presidential suites.

  

The parliament now operates from a grand new building that was opened in June 2010. That project cost about $41 million.

China will assist the Malawi government to build a university of science and technology.  China's presence in Malawi has been growing steadily since the two countries established diplomatic ties in December 2007, and Malawi abandoned its links to Taiwan after 41 years. A memorandum of understanding covering industry, trade and investment was signed between the two countries in May 2008, committing China to help in increasing the productive capacity of Malawi in tobacco, cotton, mining, forestry, fertilizer production and in processing hides and skins.

There have been some notable problems with several arrests and deportations involving trying to smuggle ivory and hard currency out of the Africa.  But all in all, the colonization of Africa by the Chinese continues.

We have a lot of time to spend in Lilongwe because the jondo and our arrival were badly coordinated so we spend time to visit the local markets.  One of the things we found out is that when asked where we come from and say “Chicago” the reply is “Obama” instead of “Michael Jordon”.

Eventually, we are informed that a van, would be arriving the next day to take us to Mangochi, a drive of 3 ½ hours. We travel through small villages along the way.

We stay at the Sunbird Hotel situated on Lake Malawi a few miles north of Mangochi.  It is July and we are about 1000 miles below the equator, so it is winter.  During the day when the sun shines, it is warm and pleasant,, but the nights are quite chilly and daylight is short.  So it is possible to lay out a few hours and soak up some sun given the right conditions. 

We were hopeful to attend more than one jondo, but in the end we attended only one.  To gain permission to attend a jondo one must first talk to the village leader, a woman, who was away attending a funeral, so we talked to her husband, explaining that the purpose was to gain knowledge of practices being used during the circumcision and to use the knowledge gained to see how it can assist in HIV prevention.  Talks with the circumciser, called ngliba, and his helpers were conducted also. The ngliba is the man on the right.  He was very experienced and recently had received a kit of surgical gloves from one of the NGO’s which he used and changed after each boy was cut.

There was a lot of down time where my presence was not needed so I took advantage to take some photos to record village life.  Here is a photo unusual tree with the village mosque next to it and an older woman walking to enter the mosque.

Here is the main form of transportation and a group of women and children waiting to be picked up.  The women are very shy about being photographed, but not the children.

While the women travel to do the laundry, the men play a game.

A brother and sister dressed in their very best clothes going somewhere and more children posing.

On the way up the mountain to the village, we stop so I can take a photo of Lake Malawi emptying into the Shire River.  Along the way we see a troop of baboons.

When we arrive at the village just before the jondo (circumcision ceremony) we find that the village women are upset at our arrival.  Later we learn that a husband and wife Christian missionaries came to the village and caused all kinds of ill will trying to convert the people away from Islam to become Christians.  So they were very suspicious of a white couple coming to their village and suspected the worse.  Part of this problem was because the village leader had been away from the village due to funeral and had not spent time communicating to the people about our intent.  Later, the Imam talked to the people and explained our cause. 

While I was at the jondo lodge, the men were upset about my presence until the ngliba explained and frowns turned to smiles aimed at me.  Just prior to this the ngliba took me to the side of the lodge and asked to show that I was circumcised after generously showing me that he was first. 

Here are photos of the children not showing any concern.  I made no effort to organize this photo and I love to look at each child’s expression.  To me, this is one of the best photos I have ever taken. I encourage my viewers to enlarge it and study some faces.

As a contrast, this is a somber photo of the boys ready for the jondo.  Understandable, huh?There is a pair of twins in this photo and one is a sister to her brother sitting at the side.

My part of the jondo was to edit the photos I took showing the actual cutting and what happened in the lodge immediately after, then write a description of what I saw, all of which is confidential. 

We drove back to Lilongwe and left for Rome to attend the International Aids Conference.

Long Live the Herds

When I wrote about my father in my writing class last year, I posted my story on my blog and when on Facebook and posted a link to the blog.  These actions resulted in my distant cousin Carol Tanner, who I never heard of before, contacting me through my email address.

She told me about some of my genealogy on our common side of our families, the Herds.  She also promised to send me some additional materials and after several months a package arrived filled with photographs of ancestors, lists of various related family trees, newspaper clippings, records of land deeds, marriage certificates, military records, photos of head stones and old homesteads.  I felt almost overwhelmed with gratitude would got to such lengths to enrich the lives on two strangers, myself and my half-bother Clifford who also received this treasure trove of information about our heritage.

Although I have not completely waded through all the information, this past week end I found out that I am distant relative to Pocahontas, Henry Hudson (the explorer), John Randolph of colonial Virginia, the Bush family and President Obama.

There are stories of my great grandfather Lt. Col. Andrew Jackson Herd having a horse stolen from him by the James Gang and set out after them and recovered the horse.  One of my relatives hung around with Daniel Boone there is a copy of a letter he wrote to Boone about selling a horse to him. 

I can hardly wait to what else there is to discover.

Punahou Reunion Finale

We rose very early to catch the fish auction breakfast and tour on Pier 38.  We toured the fish auction first.  One of the classmates owns 3 state of the art fishing boats and the Diamondhead Ice plant.

As you might guess, the fishing industry in Hawaii is huge and Hawaiians eat 3 times the national average of fish (42 lbs.).  Fishermen fish within 50 nautical miles of Hawaii and boats come in to unload their catch which has been iced, not frozen, about 1 AM six days a week.  Each fish is weighed, tagged with the vessel name, displayed on pallets, and kept clean and cold.  Before offered for sale, each fish is inspected to insure quality.  Buyers arrive before the start of the auction to inspect the day’s landings and at 5:30 AM a brass bell is rung to start the auction and bidding begins.  Fish are sold individually, buyers are invoiced and fishermen are paid that day for their fish.  Some of the fish are packed immediately and shipped to distant markets. 

A small portion of the fish is cut to show the color and quality of the fish. 

There are many rules and practices that govern the fishing in Hawaii to insure a high quality and sustainable industry.  I was impressed.  One thing of note was that many of the fishermen are foreigners and are not allowed off the boat when it comes in to port.

Later that morning we drove back to the hotel to freshen up and then walked outside to watch the 95^th annual King Kamehameha Floral parade. 

That afternoon, the class attended the Punahou president’s reception and after cocktails and pupu, the class matched down to the grand luau preceded by the Oahu College Band leading the way to seat the class of 1961.



Thus came to an end of the class of 1961’s 50^th high school reunion for us.  We passed on the family picnic the next day, being guilty of reunion burn out and spent some time around the hotel pool with occasional Mai-Tais protected from occasional light sprinkles under our umbrella. The next day we returned the rental car after some confusion on where to go and flew home.  This was some adventure.

 

 

Friday-June 10th

Totally unknown to me was the fact that Doris Duke, at one time the richest woman in the world, built a home, called Shangri La on the other side of Diamondhead.  Her father made a fortune but died early in life leaving his fortune to Doris.  Duke University is named after him.  Of all the places we visited, this stands out as the most interesting to me.  The tour began at the Honolulu Academy of Art’s Islamic World Galley where a few of us viewed a short video about Doris Duke and Shangri La then boarded a small bus to travel to Diamondhead.  Doris was particularly interested in Islamic art and her home was outright fabulous even if you don’t particularly like the symmetry of Islamic art.

Photos inside were not allowed as with most museums, but the grounds could be.





This is a special place and she was a special woman with a RICH history.  This is a must if you visit Oahu.  http://www.shangrilahawaii.org/.   Doris’s life can be read about here --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doris_Duke

That night was the gala aloha reception at the exclusive Outrigger Canoe Club on part of Waikiki Beach where there was plenty of food and a view of the surfers surfing until it was almost dark.

To be continued.