The “Mud Flood” Phenomena

After arrival in Surabaya, midway in our journey to Mt Bromo, we stop off in Sidoarjo to view the effects of the “Mud Flood.” Apparently caused by an accidental eruption when drilling for natural gas in the area, a large tract of the central part of the city was buried in boiling hot mud. A large lake now exists, and the rooftops of a few structures can still be seen. At the center, a large billowing plume of steam rises continuously.

The phenomena is contained by a large, long earthen dike, to keep other areas of the city from being flooded. Though unseen by us, there is apparently a canal cut to form a channel out to the sea, to drain off excess water and keep the level of the lake from rising.

Small traders have staked out sections along the dike, set up their impromptu ticketing stations, and in some cases staircases, rest sheds, noodle shops, etc ; taking advantage of this un-natural event to earn a small living from the curious who journey there.

0132009indonesiaeastjava

Arrival

Arrival at the Lava View Lodge exceeds expectations. Though not exceptional in its own right, it is perched on the very edge of the volcanic rim of the Tenggerese caldera, a huge depression encompassing many square miles and the volcanic cones of Mts Batok and Bromo itself.

The surrounding area is obviously rich and fertile; manicured slopes of abundant crops spread out everywhere.

0282009indonesiaeastjava

Yadnya Kasada Eve in downtown Ngdisari

Plunging up and down through the darkness in an aged jeep; (some kindof cross between an archaic tractor and an untuned lawnmower) – spluttering around each bend and barely managing to creep up the steep inclines from the edge of the Poten at the Lava View Lodge down into the shadow of Mt Batok in the main square of Ngadisari.

Local headmen, government/regional reps giving their speeches to a luke warm crowd, soon break way to the 3 hipster girls (all Tenggerese, (our guide Harmawan assures us), accompanied by a similarly all local band – the usual rock/metal requisite – the crowd of short hunched over octogenarians and toddlers on the shoulders of parents all watch idly by on the periphery whilst the young men gather round the stage and sway with their hands in the air and every once in a while hoisting one of their own above the crowd on hands held high in time to the swaying hips of the girls who occasionally actually sing, but during the remainder of the time taunt the crowd or the band members.

Fireworks splutter occasionally overhead to oohs and ahhs of all.

A booth for magnetic darts is prominently located in the square, but strangely there is no food & beverage service anywhere or market night activity either.

0742009indonesiaeastjava

I’m interviewed by a local reporter who is keen to know my views on the “torch parade” and why I came to Kasada. Sadly, I had to disappoint him that we were misled as to the timing of the torch parade and missed it. When I mention this to Harmawan later, he seems crestfallen.

Not much else of interest to keep us here tonight, though a scuffle turned into fight, captures the attention of some for a moment.

Gazing up to the night sky, I’m shocked to see how this town sits so literally in the shadow under the threat of Mt Batok, though currently inactive, it’s visually imposing, like a modern day Vesuvius.

Going back to the lodge in the jeep – 9 of us crammed in – we pass by small-holders’ farm plots with luminescent cabbages and spiky onions, all “still” in the bright light of the almost full moon.

It’s crisp, but sweatshirt/light jacket weather – very refreshing.

0902009indonesiaeastjava

Sunrise

The jeep journey begins at 4am, a bit later by most standards as many others have left before. Down through the village of Cemoro Lawang and onto the sand sea floor of the massive caldera, we lurch across the sand past the Poten of the temple and on towards the mountainous ridge beyond. Motorcycles stuck in the sand, spitting up dust appear locked in our headlights periodically, like startled deer, causing us to have to lurch out of our well worn ruts and onto the uneven patchy ground adjacent.

The jeep sounds as tortured as ever, a grinding/wincing sound that sadly we will all get used to by the end of our stay, after many similarly grueling excursions.

A torturous run up the steeply inclined cliff, on switchbacks of loose gravel and overhanging scrub, we finally make it, (near to), the observation point. Sooo many jeeps line the roadside on the approach that we must park far down and hurriedly walk up to get there in time for the spectacle.

1542009indonesiaeastjava

The “viewing deck” is a massive concrete platform, cantilevered from the hilltop, with bench seating to accommodate large crowds. The place is jam-packed; perhaps several hundred people here to witness the dawn of this special day; all of them flashing cameras, videos and jockeying to find the best positions along the edge, for capturing the upcoming moment.

The view towards the 3 principle volcanoes is truly picture-postcard-perfect, with atmospheric clouds rolling in to fill the valley floor for maximum mysterious effect.

We hang about for a bit, heading down past the traders on the way out to pick up a few items of local cold weather gear for the night to come.

1292009indonesiaeastjava

Ascending Mt Bromo

Our pilgrimage begins with a pony ride across the sand sea up the heavily eroded inclined base of the crater to the starting point of the stairs, conveniently provided for the final ascent to the rim. A local priest has set up a shack at the base to bless those items and animals that people are bringing to toss into the volcano as offerings later. He seems fully immersed in the smoky incense and low level chanting, while a crowd of the devout and curious surround him.

A quick climb up the 200+ stairs lands us at the top of the crater rims, falling away steeply both to the interior and exterior of the volcano; just a small pathway along the top rim edge, which is already crowded not so much with the devout and their private prayers, but with “the Catchers” who have set up positions to reap the benefits of the offerings that are tossed towards the crater. Just below the edge of the rim, many have stretched tarpaulins to create make shift nets to catch any falling objects that are thrown in. “Independent” operators are also in abundance, and they roam these areas just below the rim and to the sides, with sacks and nets attached to long poles. Their strategy is to lurch out at the last moment and catch the items mid flight, before they land in the tarps. No one seems bothered by the apparent contradiction, not to mention the sacrilegious aspect, that most of the “offerings” never make it to the volcano gods themselves. Anyway, many have started to amass small collections of fruit and vegetables in the hollows of their tarps, but anything valuable or “alive” is quickly secreted away out of view.

2102009indonesiaeastjava

We hang out for a while and are lucky enough to catch a live chicken being thrown in, though this is quickly “caught!” A great furor erupts when it seems that a live goat will be through in, but after much delay and silent ritualistic murmurings, the goat is carried DOWN the hillside again. (perhaps it wasn’t blessed “sufficiently” by the priest, or they’re just waiting for the evening to do it properly? We’ll never know.

Making our way back to the jeep, down the stairs, over the eroded hillside and the sandy plain at the bottom takes us a fair bit of time. We’re serenaded by the shrill screams of the ice cream man’s recorded loop; at one time this might have sounded like the happy burbling of small children, now after years and years of repetitive broadcasts, it has a mechanical/maniacal sound that pierces the atmosphere. These lower areas are a bustle of other activity as well. Many just hanging out, some with their offerings in tow, as well as many small traders, trying to turn a small profit from convenience locations spread along the way during this significant annual event.

It’s 10AM by the time we make it back to the lodge for breakfast; well earned after 6 hours of strenuous activity with no other sustenance!

After breakfast it’s time for a short nap, before our next excursion at 2PM.

2342009indonesiaeastjava

The Sea of Sand

Later that afternoon, we strike out in the jeep again to explore the floor of the caldera/valley, known as the Sea of Sand. It’s a fine dirty grey in most places, soft enough to get stuck in rather easily without some effort and skill in maneuvering. Many, many square miles in area, the entire valley is full of motorbikes spinning around, having a hell of a time, and as Harmawan says: “Spending their petrol.” We head towards some picturesque rock outcrops/formations and stop for a few scenic shots.

Next, on to the far back reaches of the valley, behind Mt Bromo itself, where the savanna grasses on the valley floor in this fertile part of the “sea” merge into green grasslands climbing up the sides of the mountains surrounding us. More scenic shots, as it truly is a memorable spot.

On the narrow paths through the grasslands, we’re passed constantly by all and sundry; motorbikes, bicycles and those on foot, either coming towards the temple at the foot of Mt Bromo, or going back the other way, deep into the canyon beyond, where we are told is another small Tenggerese village.

3112009indonesiaeastjava

Sunset

Just before sunset, we rush back to the viewpoint, where we were in the morning. Up the tortuous switchback climbing road along the cliffs beyond; it’s become a very tedious experience. Had we know we were going back to the same spot, we might’ve declined.

The sunset is spectacular however, so we are satiated tourists for the time being. Darkness ensues, the temperature begins to drop significantly, but all is well as a huge orange harvest moon hangs low on the horizon, lighting our path back down the cliff and along the sand seas back to the lodge for dinner.

CLICK PAGE 2 FOR MORE . . .

3562009indonesiaeastjava

Yadnya Kasada Night

We rush through dinner, as we’re told that the “dance” starts at 8.00PM, shortly thereafter to be followed by the procession to the temple, thence up Mt Bromo to the rim of the crater itself. Unfortunately, this does not pan out as “advertized” and we experience a bit of stop-start action leading up to our actual departure around 9PM. So we head out, back down to the main town: Ngadisari. Turns out to be another political feel-good session for the numbers 2 and 8 in regional government, in from Probolinggo. After a lot of hot air speeches, we are treated to a re-enactment pageant of the legend inspiring the present day rituals of Yadnya Kasada. Though less enthusiastically performed that might be expected, the volcano god dancers put on a spirited show and devour the 25th sacrificial child, as per the legend. Production budgets slashed even here I guess, as only 12 of the requisite 25 kids put in an appearance on stage!

More fireworks, above the town, then quickly back to Cemoro Lawang, so we “don’t miss” the procession. Well, after an hour or so waiting around a hostel, and still no sign of any “procession” in sight, we head out to the temple itself on the Poten (sacred Ground) of the sea of sand at the base of Mt Bromo.

4062009indonesiaeastjava

It’s really cold now, 2 jackets and still really feeling it. Lots of small traders with absolutely no interested customers fill the area in front of the temple entrance.

So, we’re in the temple. We move through the various courtyards to the “inner sanctum” and stake out our place just in front of the dais and wait for the event. The temple proper, (off limits to non believers) is decked out in all its finery, banners, and trays piled high with offerings of fruits and vegetables. There’s a Gamelan orchestra playing sporadically, though not very well – seems like everyone’s enthusiasm is zapped by the 0 degree weather. The pavilions flanking each side of the temple dais are filled with locals, who have created elaborate constructions from rattan, bamboo, raffia, fruits and vegetables – presumably to be carried up the crater rim and tossed later in the evening. Many seem lost in prayer. Others line up the few priests that hold court at the back of the dais, to have their wishes heard and items blessed.

Though we are a popular bunch in our position along the main way at the front of the dais, (many locals surreptitiously snap our photos, then as the evening progresses become considerably bolder and actually pose with us for their souvenir snaps! – So famous we must be.), we routinely escape to walk around and look for warmth. A few small fires have been started on the temple floor and we nudge our way into the inner circles for a few moments of cold relief.

4712009indonesiaeastjava

It’s becoming hours and hours of waiting now, so I exit the temple and take a walk outside. Attracted by a raging bonfire, I eagerly approach, only to find it’s a rubber tire set ablaze. Notwithstanding the noxious fumes, I hover for awhile to get warm again.

Back to the temple and there’s still no sign of the procession proper. A momentary bit of excitement when a large bamboo rack of torches it lit up and carried from behind the dais area into the restricted temple compound beyond. It attracts the attention of the devout for a while, whilst it burns and adds some warmth, but is abandoned after it diminishes to not much more than a large bamboo candelabra.

So after another few hours of waiting, it’s past 3AM, even colder, and we’re told that the procession up the mountain won’t start for another hour or so at least. It’s at this point we decide the experience has been “real” enough already, and we pack it in for the night. A similarly tortuous return jeep drive across the sea and up the cliff, back to the “relative” comforts of the Lava View Lodge.

We learn in the morning that things didn’t get going till around 6AM, so felt we’d made the right choice for us this time. NEXT time, we’ll know not to arrive at the Temple/Poten until well after midnight! The photo and video opportunities were great during the day preceding anyway, so no one felt that we missed much, in the dark.

The next morning it’s a straight hot drive back to Surabaya to catch our flight back to Singapore.

4542009indonesiaeastjava