INDONESIA'S CHRISTMESS

 

Image:  The Telegraph

             Indonesia’s cheerless Christmas carol 

 

 

 

Joko Widodo is Indonesia’s Ebenezer Scrooge.  The President has done more than cancelling Christmas and New Year hols; he’s also reinstated ten days in quarantine for international visitors who chance to squirm their way into the archipelago.

There have been more rah-rah stories of Bali on the cusp of welcoming foreigners in time for the year-end break than mutations of Covid.  Tourism and Creative Economy Minister, Sandiaga Uno started cheering in September.  His enthusiasm was much applauded by overseas media which forgot to download the scepticism app vital for reporting on Indonesia.

Ngurah Rai opened on 14 October but the control tower has yet to see an international flight on an approach path.

Sorry to disappoint those seeking cheap villas served by low-paid staff, but there’ll be no passing through the Candi Bentar (split gateways) into the Island of the Gods anytime soon: Scrub Kuta and its plastic-strewn beaches off the must-see lists. 

 

SEE FOOTNOTE

Warning: That was the situation as the keyboard was being tapped. However, no guarantee things will be better or worse by the time the story’s on your screen.  For Jakarta’s responses to the virus have been as confusing and contradictory as any regulations proclaimed in Canberra and State capitals.   

Almost every day there are new Pemberlakuan Pembatasan Kegiatan Masyarakat (PPKM Enforcement of Restrictions on Community Activities) edicts supposedly being enforced by the police, military and community groups.

Involving soldiers in civic issues was the dwi-fungsi (two functions) policy used by the authoritarian President General Soeharto (1965-98).  Human rights activists reckon its revival to cope with a pandemic response is a sign of ‘democratic regression.’

Johns Hopkins University records show around 4.3 million confirmed cases of Covid 19 and 144,000 deaths so far – figures considered too low by independent epidemiologists. To date about 140 million Indonesians have received their first vacs and 97 million a second needle.  That’s about 36 per cent of the total population. Children over six are eligible. Despite these stats, internationally Indonesia ranks ’low’ for the disease.

Getting vaccinated is supposed to be compulsory.  The jabs are free and reluctance to bare arms is reported to be based on ignorance and isolation rather than an exercise of so-called sovereign rights. The government can hit refuseniks by cutting social assistance programs or even fining, though that’s rare.

Our neighbours haven’t been waving placards and carrying gallows outside Parliament to uphold their freedom to be fools. Instead, they’ve applied the time-honoured Indonesian approach to handling authorities:  Don’t challenge, just agree, then ignore.

Here’s how it works:  Although the uniforms were a giveaway, the footage could have been dropped into Australian TV news with hardly an edit. Smart, polite young cops respectfully asking motorists about their vaccination status and distributing brochures on precautions.

For those living outside Jakarta, the police PR looked foreign. Research published in Australia in 2013 found ‘public opinion overwhelmingly depicts Indonesia’s police force as corrupt, brutal, and inept.’  The situation has improved with better training and recruitment, but distrust lingers.

 Although the Indonesian government has passed decrees on movements, masks, distances and gatherings similar to those made Down Under, enforcement is fitful. As camera gear was clicked off tripods the fuzz went off duty.

In a bid to stop a blow-out of Omicron and its mutations-in-waiting, Jakarta has banned bureaucrats and workers in state-owned and private companies from taking leave between Christmas Eve and 2 January.

Quoth the President: ‘We hope that we can manage this well because almost all epidemiologists are afraid that what triggers a third wave could be during Christmas and New Year.’

In the years BC (Before Covid) Christmas day and 1 January were officially holidays.  Many used the week between to stay out of the office and head to backblock villages to catch up with rellies.  They’ve already had one chance in May during Idul Fitri, the religious festival marking the end of the fasting month.

Orders were made to halt the Mudik city exodus, but the bans didn’t stop innovative Indonesians from getting through or past roadblocks, sometimes helped by bribing cops.  That’s likely to happen again later this month.

Celebrating the birth of Jesus is a big deal for Christians whose numbers nudge the population of Australia, but of less interest to the 87 per cent who follow the Prophet.

That statistic is shaky and based on the compulsion to confess a government-approved religion stamped on every adult’s ID card.  Civil libertarians regularly try to get the law erased arguing faith is  personal, but the powerful Islamic lobby fights hard fearing the nation would wander towards  Western agnosticism, shrinking preachers’ power and status.

Although Christians’ rights (religious freedom is guaranteed in the Constitution) to celebrate will be contained and muted as a public health measure, devout Muslims will be flying to Mecca this month for their rites. They’ll travel for the lesser pilgrimage umrah after Saudi Arabia lifted travel restrictions and opened its holy sites.

Unlike the mandatory haji which can only be performed at a specific time (next year in mid July) umrah can be done at any time.

For nine days the Indonesians will mix with thousands from countries like India and Pakistan and then return home. Which seems like a formula for spreading the virus; it’s certainly distressing doctors.  Omicron has been detected in the Arab kingdom, though not yet in Indonesia. 

At the start of the pandemic last year the then Health Minister Terawan Agus Putranto’s prescription was prayer.  ‘It’s our nation’s right to rely on the Almighty,’ the Catholic army medical doctor  told journalists.  Which sounds a bit like Australian luddites’ reliance on …

Whoops – better stop there.  Australian politicians lodge defamation writs to squash unpalatable comments, but Indonesian clerics access blasphemy laws.

First published in Pearls & Irritations, 8 December 2021: https://johnmenadue.com/indonesias-haphazard-pandemic-response-is-no-holiday/

UPDATE - from Bali Beat 8 December:

The Big News

“The Government Cancels Implementing PPKM Level 3 Equally but Enforces Tightening” from Antara Bali (Indonesian): The government has decided not to cancel PPKM level 3 in the Christmas and New Year periods equally in all regions, but to impose a number of restrictions. Thus, the implementation of the PPKM level during Christmas and New Year will follow the assessment of the pandemic situation as applicable, but with some tightening. "Travel conditions will continue to be tightened, especially at the border for passengers from abroad. However, the PPKM policy during the Christmas and New Year period will be made more balanced, accompanied by testing and tracing activities that continue to be intensified," said the Coordinating Minister for Maritime Affairs and Investment. Luhut Binsar Pandjaitan on Monday.

Context: The situation is unclear with many contrasting news stories on the topic. Details of what this cancellation will mean are yet to be revealed, though it appears the underlying health protocols will remain in place and fireworks remain banned (Indonesian). While the spokesperson for Badung regency said they were awaiting clarification (Indonesian) and the Deputy Governor came out in support of the revocation (Indonesian).

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RETREATING TO THE BUSH

Going free

It’s one of the world’s most desirable destinations, a country of gasp-out-loud beauty and sweaty challenges for the adventurous.  But New Zealand is also big dollar land with budget travellers reluctant  to pay Rp 2 million a day for a bed, meals and travel. So they’re turning to freedom camping – and upsetting some locals.  Duncan Graham reports

 :

Last year more than three million foreigners descended on the tiny South Pacific islands.  Proportionally that’s equal to Indonesia getting 165 million visitors a year instead of its current nine.

NZ is just twice the size of Java but with a population below Surabaya’s.  Sprawling Auckland is the biggest city holding a third of the nation’s 4.5 million citizens; it’s also astonishingly multi-ethnic; Indonesian migrants who prefer urban living settle in this warmer city.

Most visitors want to see deep valleys, snow-capped mountains, regimented vines marching up brown hillsides and scattered white sheep nibbling green paddocks.

They also want to scale the peaks, ski the slopes, dive with sharks, get close to whales, tramp through passes, bungy-jump off viaducts, raft clean cascading rivers, test their courage and get close to nature. For these folk freedom camping is the only way to go.

With limited public transport and then only between the major centers, NZ is DIY (Do It Yourself) tourism for the frugal traveller.  Buy a bike and pedal down dedicated cycleways stretching the length of the land, with most already completed.

For those hooked on the scent of burning fossil fuels a motorbike is ideal. The step-through 80 cc Japanese sepeda motor that clog the Republic’s roads are seldom seen.  To tackle NZ’s long highways and steep hills grunt is needed with a heavy machine – not recommended unless the rider is an experienced throttle-twister on the big brutes.

That leaves camper vans and here the choice is rich.  Clear Customs  (international entry points are Auckland, the capital Wellington and  the South Island’s Christchurch) and you’ll find more rental companies than taxi touts at Ngurah Rai.

Around NZ $50 (Rp 470,000) a day gives visitors the key to a simple van, the type normally used for small goods deliveries and with just enough space to squash a mattress behind the front seats. It helps to have a partner who doesn’t kick in bed.

Top of the range are the big purpose-built motorhomes with air conditioning, a kitchen with electric stove, TV, a double bed and bunks for the kids plus shower and toilet.  Renters can stand without cracking skulls

These are the Ritz on Wheels vans that commercial camp operators like to see enter their gates. That’s  because cashed-up campers pay NZ $50 (Rp 470,000) a night for the privileges of using club rooms, swimming pools and other comforts. .They call their sites ‘Holiday Parks’ and usually include basic cabins.

Inevitably it’s the budget conscious teens and young adults who go for the cheapest transport with no toilets so rely on public facilities. The businesspeople allege that tourists who huddle in sleeping bags on the roadside use the bushes as lavatories and trash cans.

Although this occasionally happens despite a NZ$ 400 fine (Rp 3.8 million), the case has been overstated as most visitors come to view, not vandalize.

Some local councils have passed laws to restrict campers without on-board WCs – but this is hurting the bottom end of the market.  These travellers may not select from restaurant menus but they still spend in supermarkets.

Fortunately there’s an alternative.  The Department of Conservation, widely known as DOC has more than 200 ‘conservation campsites’ in the North and South Islands. The two are connected by a car-carrying scheduled ferry through the spectacular  Marlborough Sounds where hills plunge straight into a still sea.

Facilities at the DOC sites go from basic with no water and ‘long drop’ or compost toilets through to ‘scenic’ with sealed roads, hot showers and on-site rangers.  DOC publishes free maps and details of locations.  Some sites have to be pre-booked through the Internet to prevent overcrowding.

Fees vary from zero to NZ $20 (Rp 190,000) a night per person.

Freedom camping is not for the pernickety but it’s a great way to meet people from around the world. Most come from Australia, then China, the US, Britain, South Korea, Japan, Germany. France and Malaysia.  Indonesians get grouped among ‘Other’.

They are usually found in off-highway wilderness and conservation zones, giving visitors intimate access to the parks and rivers they’d never experience bussing to the next manicured resort. .

 (panel)

How to enjoy

Although NZ gives footloose folk the chance to let the day make the decisions, some forward planning is advised.  Most businesses and services have their own websites so booking transport ahead ensures visitors won’t go without during the peak season.

This starts in October, goes through summer and ends in April as fall, which Kiwis call autumn, begins to bite. This is the most spectacularly beautiful season as green leaves turn to every russet hue known to nature.

Those planning to stay longer than the minimum two weeks needed to appreciate the country often chose to buy a van and sell on their departure. Tourist visas are usually valid for three months stay. Trade Me is the on-line trading site where most sales are made. Also check notice boards in backpacker hostels.

All vehicles must have a Warrant of Fitness, known as a WOF.  This ensures the tyres have tread, the brakes and steering work and all is safe, but it’s no guarantee that the engine won’t fail – so mechanical knowledge can be helpful.

Indonesians can use their own driving licences and will be glad to know the traffic drives on the left.  But this doesn’t mean Indonesian rules apply.

Stop signs mean what they say. So do speed limits. Vehicles must halt when pedestrians step onto the zebra stripes. At roundabouts the hard rule is give way to the right. Drivers tend to be disciplined and polite, but the police are everywhere – often in unmarked cars – and fines heavy.  

Distances are deceptive; because roads twist and turn, rise and fall allow extra drive time. Petrol costs about NZ $2 (Rp19,000) a liter.

DOC is online and bristling with tips. Big towns have I-Sites giving free advice on local attractions.  Calling into these well-signed centers is strongly recommended. 

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(First published in J Plus, The Jakarta Post, 18 January 2017)

FIRST TO SEE THE LIGHT

Fifty Shades of Godzone Green    

                      

Something has been underway in New Zealand that would be impossible in Indonesia. 

Imagine [you probably can’t] suggesting the red and white should be replaced because the bicolor is bland and too similar to Singapore’s. 

Some Kiwis reckoned their flag had passed its wave-by date and it’s time to hoist another.  Cheerleader for this idea has been Prime Minister John Key.

The traditional flag includes the Union Jack implying the nation is still a teenage British colony.  They also whinge [complain] that the Southern Cross constellation looks like a first draft version of Australia’s ensign. 

After a NZ$26 million [Rp 240 billion] search for alternative and a referendum, Kiwis voted 57-43 per cent to stay with the old design. 

Any country still seeking a symbol for its identity without resorting to violence must be laid back. Which makes it the ideal holiday destination for Indonesians seeking cal and a break from the Republic’s intense political culture and crowded streets. My Indonesian wife calls NZ the Sleeping Beauty.

Although a self-governing nation since 1907 Godzone [God’s own country] is still a work in progress.

It was the first to give women the vote and introduce pensions for all. It became a nuclear free zone banning US warships much to the world power’s fury, and more recently legalised same-sex marriages.

Conservatives were distressed, but the deeply religious are now in a minority.  That shouldn’t upset Indonesians considering a visit; faith is a personal issue and tolerance levels high.  Discrimination is illegal.

The first settlers planted churches before crops and set out to create a just and fair society with a cradle-to-grave health and social welfare system.

Their offspring, having entered a land of milk and honey now seek fresh spiritual succor. You’ll find beautiful old churches though largely empty. The new buildings are temples and mosques to meet the needs of migrants.

Issues that in other lands push snarling citizens into the streets to burn tyres and shake fists are rare – unless the All Blacks lose. Rugby is the national religion and the NZ team world champions – not bad for a country of only 4.5 million but 30 million sheep. 

Aotearoa, the alternative name for NZ, translates as Land of the Long White Cloud.  That’s what you’ll see if the weather’s right as your Boeing glides across what droll locals call ‘The Ditch’, the 1,500 kilometer Tasman Sea that separates NZ from Australia.

The first Polynesian navigators who magically steered their giant canoes through uncharted waters, made landfall about 1,000 years ago.

They settled in the last habitable empty land on earth, found fearless flightless birds like the kiwi and giant moa, now extinct. They became the Maori and now form 15 per cent of the population. Their culture and language has become part of everyday life for all.

Although later arrivals known as Pakeha came from Britain [hence the Union Jack] NZ is multicultural with 213 separate ethnic groups.   About 5,000 Indonesians live in the country. 

Be prepared to be confused with the better known Filipinos who account for almost ten per cent of the nation’s half million Asians.  A quarter of the country’s population was born overseas.

Indonesia and NZ, though physically distant, are shaky isles sharing places on the Pacific Rim of Fire.

Homesick visitors hankering for familiar sights will enjoy the topography of towering volcanoes and lush valleys, full of mystery and 50 shades of green.  Ferns are widespread, and like the kiwi another national symbol.

Indonesians’ hunger for anything with rice will be satisfied in the cities and bigger towns where Asian restaurants abound.  Elsewhere it’s best to develop a taste for meat pies and tomato sauce, and ‘filled rolls’, long buns stuffed with meats and salads.

To really know the locals try farmstays or bed-and-breakfasts [called B and Bs]. Decoding the vowels can be tricky.  The evening news is telecast at sex o’clock; people quaff melk and eat fesh end cheps.

The less convivial should consider renting a self-contained motorhome with its own kitchen, shower and toilet.   If DIY [Do It Yourself, not Yogya’s special region] doesn’t appeal, hotels and motels are easy to find.

Tourism challenges dairy farming as the biggest player in the economy so the country knows how to cater for visitors.  In any town head first to the I-Site.

Funded by local councils, I-Sites promote their district and provide free and factual information.  After touring North and South Islands several times we’ve yet to discover a dud.

Fancy an industrial strength vacation to expand the kids’ interests beyond Facebook?  Factories making chocolate, beer, aluminium and other useful goods allow visits.

Keen on culture?  Museums and art galleries abound.  Stop at Napier, the world’s best-preserved Art Deco city rebuilt after the 1931 earthquake.  Christchurch badly damaged in 2010 and 2011 shakes is still being reassembled.

Thrill seeker?  Bungy jumping over deep gorges was pioneered in NZ.  So was the jet boat, which can dash down shallow rivers that would rip apart conventional craft.

Life’s a beach.  The islands, bigger than Java but smaller than Sumatra, are long and narrow so the coast is always close.  Mountains form Aotearoa’s spine and are spectacular everywhere, particularly in Fiordland in the southwest.

Department of Conservation [DOC] offices in cities and close to the 14 national parks covering 30,000 square kilometers, offer advice on where to go, what to do and how to stay safe.  Like Ireland, NZ has no snakes; the only large dangerous animals are sea lions.

No chance of getting pecked by a penguin scurrying to its burrow at nightfall in several urban locations.  However beware the curious kea, the world’s only alpine parrot.  They rip off car aerials and windscreen wipers just to see how they work. 

Watch the weather. Start a high-country hike on a day the pious enjoy in paradise and end in the hell of a blinding blizzard where landmarks vanish in a world of white. Wear the right gear and carry a phone with GPS plus a distress beacon. 

Every year a few careless and unlucky adventurers tumble into crevasses, disappear under rockfalls or get swept away by ice slips from melting glaciers.  Fortunately emergency rescue services are on standby; read warning signs and buy an insurance policy as medical care can be expensive.

DOC also runs campgrounds.  Those with minimal facilities are free, the others charge between NZ$5 and NZ$20 [Rp 183,000] a vehicle for an overnight stay.

Buy a fishing license to try for trout in lakes and streams.  If you weep over Indonesia’s beautiful waterways polluted by plastic trash, then NZ will show you how the amazing archipelago looked when citizens and governments cared for the environment.

Drop garbage outside an approved bin and risk a NZ $400 spot fine. The islands aren’t heavily policed like China, but littering is so unacceptable bystanders sometimes dob in [report] offenders.

Road-kill possums are not indigenous.  Imported from Australia in the 19^th century they found native birds’ eggs a dietary delight.  They gorged and multiplied exponentially.

Now a major poisoning program is underway and serious attempts made to help wildlife recover.  Conservationists will be happy to explain their methods and happier still if the alien mammals become extinct. 

When did you last see a Javanese hawk eagle in its natural habitat?  In NZ patrolling hawks will watch your wanderings, and Kiwis love you for enjoying their lovely land.

World headquarters of the verb                             

Wellington is wordsville.

Streets and parks in the New Zealand capital are named after pioneers and poets not military men.

All nations celebrate their warriors, but few commemorate the intellectual feats of their creative artists.  Which includes filmmakers.  The Lord of the Rings trilogy and other big budget movies have been made here, giving the place its moniker Wellywood.

Katherine Mansfield, the most internationally recognized of NZ’s writers, initially found her hometown boring; as a teenager she fled to London and lived as a bisexual bohemian.  She died of tuberculosis in 1923 aged 35.

Like Indonesia’s heroine Kartini who lived at the same time and died young, Mansfield was a pioneer of women’s rights.

Following the Writers’ Walk is an essential exercise to feel the pulse of one of the world’s most liveable and compact cities.  Wander where the prose is never pedestrian and where the words of the nation’s creative artists are set in stone and timber.

The city lies 41.29 degrees south - it’s the world’s windiest; the Roaring Forties get funnelled through Cook Strait that separates the North and South islands.

The geography guarantees the weather will be fickle. Four seasons a day, joke the locals. Poet Alistair Te Ariki Campbell wrote:

Blue rain from a clear sky.

Our world a cube of sunlight –

but to the south

the violet admonition of thunder.

NZ is the first nation in the world to wake. When it’s almost midnight in Jakarta it’s dawn in Wellington – tomorrow. Its place in the South Pacific with the Antarctic as southern neighbor inspired poet Bill Manhire to locate himself – I live at the edge of the universe / like everyone else.

Maori relationships with the Europeans started well but turned bad.  The Treaty of Waitangi was signed in 1840 after 24 years of skirmish and sometimes open warfare.

Despite the vast differences in culture and values, language and lifestyle, inter-marriage was common.  Many Maori speedily adapted to the new reality, among them novelist Patricia Grace:

I love this city, the hills, the harbor, the wind that blasts through it.  I love the life and pulse of activity, and the warm decrepitude … there’s always an edge here that one must walk which is sharp and precarious, requiring vigilance.

Only the sturdy and determined migrants stayed, making Wellington prosper by applying the Scottish Presbyterian principles of faith and education, determination and hard work.

Teacher Lauris Edmond once described her writing as ‘a confrontation with experience’ as her poem The Active Voice shows well:

It’s true you can’t live here by chance,

you have to do and be, not simply watch

or even describe.  This is the city of action, the world headquarters of the verb.

What to expect

Indonesians need a visa to visit NZ. 

Plan to spend at least a month to properly explore the country – two weeks in each island.  Currency rates are tidal, so check before departure,

Snow bunnies should head for the South Island in July, and Queenstown in particular.  There are also ski fields on the active Mount Ruapehu volcano and Mount Taranaki in the North Island.

A car ferry links the two islands and takes three and a half hours to cross Cook Strait through the spectacular Marlborough Sounds. 

Summer starts in December and lasts three months. Temperatures tend to be below 30 degrees.  Daylight saving means the sun doesn’t set till after 9 pm, later further south where there are chances to see the spectacular aurora australis night show.

Fall [autumn] can be spectacular, as the leaves of deciduous trees turn golden.

If your nirvana is air-conditioned malls, NZ may disappoint.  For the attractions are under the sun and stars, the wild is accessible and the air so pure you know it’s only been filtered by trees.

(First published in J-Plus - The Jakarta Post 7 May 2016)

           

MERDEKA! FREEDOM TO TRASH

Rubbishing the Republic

This is the year of Wonderful Indonesia, hopefully netting more than US$9 billion [Rp 126 trillion] from foreigner visitors.  Visa free entry has become available to scores of nationalities in a bid to boost arrivals lured by the promise of vistas green and clean.  Sadly many will be disappointed.  Duncan Graham reports:

When Younglive Suban (right) was driving in New Hampshire he behaved like any Indonesian.  He tossed his cigarette butt out of the window without checking the rear vision mirror.

Tailing him was a patrol car.  “Young man, do you know what you just did?” asked the cop after pulling the student over. “Do you think the US highway is your ashtray?” The fine for littering was US$ 500 [Rp 7 million] but the officer was compassionate.

“That taught me a lesson,” recalled Suban who now manages a two-hectare upmarket tourist resort in North Sulawesi.

“I’d never thought like that before.  I changed my ways. Now back in Indonesia the car is my garbage can when I’m out driving.  I wish others would do the same.”

Amen. It’s not difficult to locate lookouts across tumbling green hills – just spot a pile of rubbish.  If heading into the forest follow the trails of drink bottles and cans.  Well-prepared adventurers include a knife and dye marker in their backpacks.

The first is to carve your famous name into tree trunks, the second to scribble an immortal message on any flat surface.  What to say? The current trend is for something obscene – that’s always good for a laugh.

“It’s sad, not funny,” said Basaria Tiara, second-in-charge of the Minahasa Regency Tourist Department.  “Of course it wouldn’t take long for a couple of men and a small truck to collect the mess and do some basic clean ups.

“The problem is this: Who is responsible and where’s the budget? Is it the department dealing with roads, or parks, or health or education? When the Reformasi policy came in after the fall of Soeharto [1998] the regions took over many jobs but there’s been little coordination.

“Money for capital works is available, but not maintenance.  If we put out bins they get stolen.”

One of most publicised inland tourist attractions in North Sulawesi is Bukit Kasih [variously translated as Hill of Love or Hill of Mercy.]  It’s a multi-faith 950-step journey round a smoking, steaming amphitheatre of raw geo-thermal activity.

Although only opened in 2004 the place is now so badly damaged that it’s more liability than asset. Acid rain from the sulphuric fumes has eroded the infrastructure and stained the kitsch statues. Some walkways are impassable.  Visitors hoping to find a place of peace are harassed by touts.

 “That’s what happens when you let officials run tourism,” said Suban, a dedicated disciple of private enterprise.

“The government is doing a good job publicising Indonesia abroad and helping draw in tourists, but they must also look at the infrastructure and understand the market. It has several segments – not all want to sit at poolsides drinking.

“Many want to explore and learn.  I feel ashamed when I take people to a site and find garbage.”

The problem is nationwide. Environment and Forestry Ministry waste management director Sudirman recently told a seminar there were so many problems with rubbish in Indonesia that he was thinking about declaring a state of emergency. 

Before talking to J Plus Suban and his business colleagues from the Himpunan Pramuwisata Indonesia [Indonesian Tourism Group HPI] where he’s secretary, spent a day picking waste off the beach in Manado.  The capital of North Sulawesi is famous as the base for exploring the Bunaken National Marine Park.

Divers come from around the world to marvel at the coral wonderland – but get offended by pollution. From the top floor of a harbor-front hotel pods of plastic can be seen swirling in the bay below.

“Maintaining a clean environment is really the government’s job,” said Suban.  “They don’t do it, so we have to.  It’s not just foreigners who want cleanliness – so do we.”

HPI vice president Freddy Siwi, who runs a backpacker lodge in Tomohon mainly catering for locals, thinks the answer to making Indonesians care is to turn trash into cash.  He’s started a collection centre for plastics and cardboard and plans to buy a machine to compress the refuse ready for sale to recyclers.

“We need a system of reward and punishment to make an impact,” he said. “If there are laws against littering they’re ignored.”

One of North Sulawesi’s must-see sites is the 1,324 meter Mount Mahawu and its green crater lake, though often shrouded in cloud. A good road leads to the park office.  There’s space to park and a sturdy staircase to the summit. Signs against shooting, logging and littering appear to indicate discipline, though many have been targeted by graffiti goons.

The Bern family from Belgium obviously thought the notices inadequate; they left a sack at the entrance with a ‘Save the nature’ message shaming others to drop their empties in their bag, not the bush.

Tiara denied that Indonesians don’t love their country. “A clean environment isn’t just for tourists,” she said. “It’s also important for our lives, our health and our children.  We just need a mindset change.

“If we have good places travellers will come.  The government doesn’t listen to locals but maybe they’ll pay attention to people from overseas.  So please speak out.”

Clean up Australia

Indonesian visitors to Australia 25 years ago would have found the land to their liking. A night drive in the bush was enhanced by the glint of discarded beer cans marking the road shoulders. The more cans the closer to a town and its liquor shops.

Those days are largely gone thanks largely to the inspiration and determination of builder and yachtsman Ian Kiernan. While sailing in the late 1980s he was appalled at the pollution of Sydney Harbor.

With a few mates he organized a litter lift; to everyone’s surprise about 40,000 volunteers arrived to pick up 5,000 tonnes.  Clearly the mood had swung towards environmental care.  That drew political interest so governments got involved.

The Clean Up Australia campaign was born as a not-for-profit organization. The public backed Kiernan, now 75, because he came across as a rugged individual who cared and had no other agenda. In 1994 he was made Australian of the Year.

Parallel with the widespread collections of garbage has been legislation. Most states impose fines of AUD $400 [Rp 4 million] for litterers.

(breakout 2)

Only losers litter

Like Manado and the Minahasa highlands, Malang in East Java is an internationally-known tourist town.  It also has knock-out scenery, enhanced by ancient cultural sites nearby.  The temples of the 14^{th and} 15^th century Majapahit era draw visitors, along with a cooler climate.

Malang labels itself ‘green’ and ‘flower city’, but also has a trash problem, particularly in waterways.

Despite signs forbidding dumping in rivers and beauty spots, these are headstones in cemeteries of plastic and food scraps – rodents’ picnic grounds.  Building rubble is tipped in any open space, often near houses.

“It’s a worry we are trying to combat in several ways,” said Ismintarti, head of the public parks section in the local government. “Many don’t care because they think it’s not in their backyard.  But the city is their backyard - and ours. My staff have to pick up what they drop, and that’s not right.

“We are making Malang more beautiful through growing and planting flowers, so citizens enjoy and respect.”  The city has a splendid but little known nursery that could compete with botanical gardens overseas.

“We ask residents to accept personal responsibility and not assume cleanliness is solely someone else’s job,” she said. “We’re using traditional means like posters, and social media to get the message across.  We also employ an Environment Ambassador.”

Shinta Maulidya, 19, the lady with this fine title, spends her days talking to children and young adults.  Drop your Styrofoam cup in a park and you’re likely to get a tap on the shoulder from a pretty teen instead of a burly cop.  “I ask them to put their trash in the right place,” she said. “They are starting to take notice.” 

It’s pointless arguing - Maulidya is a debating champion, speaks good English and has the law on her side. Fines of Rp 100,000 [US$7.25] can be imposed and smoking in parks in prohibited – a rule widely ignored.

Said Ismintarti: “It’s social engineering. Changing people’s behavior takes time.  Are we getting cleaner?”  She paused for a moment. “Yes.  I really think we are. But still far to go.”

First published in J-Plus - The Jakarta Post 21 February 2016

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A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT

Making a business splash         

                             

Pagowan looks like a nice place to raise the kids.

On the eastern flank of smoking Semeru, at 3,676 meters Indonesia’s highest volcano, the village soils are so rich signs should alert visitors against standing stationary lest they take root and sprout leaves.

Instead notices tell people not to dump trash.  Such prohibitions can be found elsewhere in East Java, usually presiding over garbage-filled gullies.  However in Pagowan the warnings work for the landscape has yet to be plastic-wrapped.

The lushness, density of palms and paddy, air so clean it should be exported, winding roads reasonably maintained, quaint bridges and spacious well-spaced houses make Pagowan look like an Indonesian version of rural England.  Or New England.  There’s just one thing missing – jobs.

“There are no factories here,” said Salim Gombloh, 38.  “Apart from shops, government offices and a few hotels in Lumajang [the nearest city of around 130,000 souls] the work is farming and laboring.

 “If you don’t want to sweat in the fields all day or hang around with an ojek [motorcycle taxi] you have to look elsewhere.  For me that meant the Middle East where I was employed as a driver.”

Agus Nadir, Salim’s younger brother by eight years, also quit the village.  He headed first to Malang [East Java], then Bali working for tour and travel companies.  Inevitably he encountered foreigners; by observing their curious ways he soon discovered why they’d come to Indonesia, their likes and dislikes, anxieties and expectations.

On the top of his list for pickiness are the Russians.  “I had one group that spent the whole day complaining because their driver arrived one minute late,” he said.

“Indians always look for problems – but that’s OK because it means we learn how to cope with all the possibilities.

“Europeans are fussy about time keeping.   People from Sweden and Norway know what they want.  I’ve found Australians the best. They’re friendly, don’t discriminate and seem to like our more relaxed lifestyle.

“Above all most visitors want good service and value for money.”

All this has been an education Agus has put to good use with Salim. The siblings have turned entrepreneurs, boosting the economy of their birthplace without building smokestacks or digging mines.

When Salim returned from overseas he knew he’d have to invest carefully.  Otherwise he’d run out of cash and be forced to pick coconuts, hew timber or grow the pisang agung [giant bananas] that thrive in the area to support his young family.

Salim had long been an adventure sportsman, particularly keen on Motocross, aka MX.  This is the British-originated cross-country motorcycle racing, now an international sport with MX 77 a famous event.

Like his brother he knew backpackers were also keen on outdoor activities.  Fine, but apart from pastoral charm Pagowan had little else.  Except Kali Asem. 

Although labelled ‘an intermittent stream’ by geographers, on the mountain lowlands it’s  a well-trained  river running year round, fed from Semeru’s regular rains and emptying into the Indian Ocean. The name translates as ‘sour river’ – and maybe it is when the volcano spews sulphuric acid but now it provides the fresh water needed for the rice.

The brothers had some money – but only half the Rp 30 million [USS 2,250] needed to purchase a five person raft.  So they deflated rafting and turned to tubing.

After picking up 50 old bus and truck tyres and a compressor they got their mates to add rubber seats.  Then they knocked up a base camp out of bamboo, bought helmets and life jackets – and trained local staff.

Ngibar 77 from nginyut bareng [drifting together] with the two digits as a sop to Salim’s MX obsession, opened for business early this year. It now employs up to 30 villagers in a variety of jobs.

 “It would have cost us ten times more if we tried to create this in Jakarta,” said Agus.  “Apart from the banners we’ve done most of the work ourselves.”

How about the neighbors?  Having rupiah flow into Pagowan seems a noble notion, but progress has an undertow: Strangers sticking camera lenses into folk’s faces, churning up the tracks with their four-wheel drive Menteng monsters, discomforting the comfortable.

“Fortunately there have been no problems,” said Agus.  “The village heads support us. It’s easier because we were born here.  It might have been different if an outsider had tried to start a business.” 

So far all their clients have been Indonesians paying Rp 55,000 [US4.20] per person for a couple of hours on the river. The price includes being picked up seven kilometers downstream and trucked back to base, use of the gear and snacks.

“I’ve seen adventure tourism in Bali and know how this appeals to young people,” said Agus. “The problem is getting overseas visitors to find us; this is off the regular tourist route that only features Mount Bromo and Yogyakarta.”

It takes about two hours by bus to reach Lumajang from Probolinggo, the northern coast city used by many as the starting point to reach Bromo.

The southern approach road between Malang and Jember is a scenic switchback as it climbs to 700 meters at Picket Nol, overlooking a Martian rubblescape of giant boulders flipped down the hillside like marbles during Semeru’s 1967 eruption.

There are other regional attractions close to Pagowan including the Mandara Giri Hindu temple in the adjacent village of Senduro, but again the visitors are local. During two days in the area J Plus only saw Indonesian tourists. 

The crew working for Ngibar 77 can handle little more than the gender-neutral kampong cry of ‘Allo Mister’. This is no great problem as the compensation for minimal English is an abundance of helpfulness, though fussy foreigners used to Balinese language skills may find this worrying.

“This is something we have to improve,” said the enthusiastic Agus keen to cover all bases. 

Another factor is insurance – a yawn for Indonesians but an issue for litigious travellers from afar.  Ngibar 77 employs one guide for every two tubers – or one for one if the client is a child. The river runs fast; there are boulders aplenty to churn white water and tip a tube.  However Kali Asem seldom tops two meters and the riverbanks are not distant.

“We’re hoping to get insurance through the local tourist department and some financial support – but that hasn’t happened yet,” said Agus. “Maybe later this year.”

Salim’s wife Tutik Hariyanti, 37, and other women prepare snacks and drinks for the tubers and guard their vehicles parked in a private yard.

In a good month a guide can earn around Rp 3 million [US$ 230] which is far above the gleanings of farm laborers; but the work is seasonal, depending on school vacations and other holidays to push people onto the roads in search of something new.

“We ask our clients for feedback and spend time evaluating our performance,” said Salim.  “The problem with success is that others try and copy.  We now have another village that’s just started tubing so we have to keep improving.”

 (All pix by Erlinawati Graham)

(First published in The Jakarta Post 23 June 2015)

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OLDEN DAYS? THERE'S AN APP FOR THAT TOO

Getting lost without getting lost     

                                      

You’ve just arrived in a strange city and feel like exploring.  You get the hotel name and address in the local language and cautiously venture beyond the safety of the security guards.

What next?  The visitors’ brochures are out of date and only feature the attractions tourism department officials think will amuse.  Few bureaucrats have been outside their own province, certainly not overseas alone and bent under a backpack. 

Consequently they have little understanding of what drives foreigners to stray beyond the neon for a tiny taste of local life.

Now imagine you have a smart phone app prepared not by the chamber of commerce but members of a heritage organization.  They want to steer your steps away from shopping malls and into narrow lanes where history has hidden in locations so secret even locals are unaware of their significance to the outside world.

Maybe you’ll find a shop where the goods haven’t been made in China and where the seller just wants a fair price, not your total wallet. Perhaps you’ll encounter quirky architecture and enter houses built centuries ago.

Wouldn’t that be worth US$2 [Rp 25,000] if the money was used to help conserve some of the buildings?

That’s the thinking of Dutch urban economist Ester van Steekelenburg who develops what she calls “innovative learning tools”.  One of these is an app she and her colleagues at their Hong Kong based consultancy Urban Discovery have put on the market.

The company’s slogan is ‘keeping heritage alive for a vibrant and viable urban future’.

In the 1990s she spent a year in Xiamen, formerly Amoy, the ancient Chinese port opposite Taiwan.  As usual, developers were following their herd instincts – wrecking history and building bland. It made her wonder if there wasn’t a middle way.

“There’s often conflict between conservation and development, yet preserving heritage can make economic sense,” said Dr Van Steekelenburg [she got her doctorate in urban economics] in an e-mail exchange from Hong Kong.

 “It’s strange that Indonesians and other Asians go to Europe to see heritage buildings but ignore those in their own cities.

“The response from people who’ve done the app walks is great. They typically say that they’ve visited places they would otherwise not have found or would not have dared to go inside.

“Another comment is that users feel they have a better understanding of the neighborhood. Customers are mainly individual travellers who find us through our website and by simply browsing the app store for their travel destination. 

“The apps, which include maps photos and videos, have been designed to help visitors get lost without getting lost.”

So far walks have been completed for Denpasar, Jakarta, Surabaya and Yogyakarta in association with NUFFIC [the Netherlands Organization for International Cooperation in Higher Education], an independent non-profit with an office in Jakarta. 

Dr Van Steekelenburg said NUFFIC covered costs for training, curating and technical maintenance. All proceeds from downloads [the first is free] go to local heritage societies.

New tours are planned for 2015, including one for Malang.  The central East Java city is rich in remnants from the 13^th to 16^th century Majapahit Empire – and garnished with fine examples of 19^th century Dutch colonial architecture.

Other cities on the list and scheduled to be ready this year are Magelang and Semarang [Central Java], Bandung [West Java], Medan [North Sumatra] and Padang [West Sumatra].

In 2008 Dr Van Steekelenburg edited Elmina; Building on the past to create a better future. Elmina, a port on the south coast of Ghana also known as the Dutch Gold Coast, was used to ship slaves to America.  The slave fortress Coenraadsburg was restored in 2007.

In the book she wrote that the restoration encouraged sustainable developments: ‘This meant an increase in tourism, a revival of traditional culture and skills, an increasing demand for local products and thus improved living conditions’.

In other words conservation and development don’t necessarily make an unhappy marriage.  

Yogya-based historian Emile Leushuis, author of Panduan Jelajah Kota-kota Pusaka di Indonesia [A guide to exploring heritage in Indonesia’s Cities] published last year and reviewed in The Jakarta Post on 8 December, said android apps were essential. 

 Dr Van Steekelenburg agreed: “We’re only one year old and especially in terms of local marketing and keeping walks up-to-date I think we can still improve.

“The bottleneck here is that we mainly rely on the local heritage organisations who are the co-curators of the walks,

“Very few Indonesians have i-Phones, so for them it’s a bit difficult to see the value added at this point. We hope that with the release of the android version next month (Feb) and increased revenues from downloads coming their way it will be a nice promotional tool, an exciting addition to their current activities to bring more awareness to local heritage.”

Leushuis said that creating an app is one thing, “but making it accessible and out there is another.

“Somehow people have to know that there is an app available when they are staying for example in Malang and might be tempted to explore the city.

“I think there should be clear barcode-scanning points at certain locations favored by expats and maybe also on the sign boards that Dwi Cahyono has put up around town.”

Cahyono (right) is a Malang entrepreneur who runs a private museum and has been urging local government to preserve the city’s heritage. He used his own money to erect signs around the city describing historical sites, hoping local government would fund English translations.  That has yet to happen.

“I’m one hundred per cent behind this idea if it’s using android apps,” he said. “At the beginning this will attract foreigners – maybe it will take two years for Indonesians to catch up.

“Care has to be taken – what works in Hong Kong may need to be adapted to function here. There’s still a need for education; too few government tourism departments understand that heritage means money.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 27 January 2015)