All roads in Bandung lead to Dago Street

GETTING TO KNOW YOU: Three visitors from Sarawak exchanging ideas with students at SMAK Dago. At right is the English teacher

The steaming crater of a dormant volcano and a landscape juxaposed by the ancient and the modern are among the tourism pluses of this west Java pro-vince that abounds with myths and legends.

FOOD poisoning! Even when all I took was restaurant food.

Yes, it was on my first night in the west Java province of Bandung, Indonesia. I was all prepared to summon medical help as diarrhea set in to compound my already drained physical condition from persistent vomitting.

Our Lord answered my prayer. At 5am, I took the risk of washing down a protein drink to replenish my weakened body. Amazingly, there wasn’t any need to visit the rest room as I had anticipated. Indeed, He is watching over me.

So Bandung for me was not a food adventure. Over the next two days, I nursed my tummy pretty well, basically watching my diet in the midst of all the hard-to-resist tasty foods.

To make up for missing out on some of the appetising local delicacies such Serabi (Sundanese pancake) or batagor (crispy fried fish-tofu with spicy peanut sauce), ayam gantung (hung chicken), sate kelinci (rabbit satay), sate biawak (monitor lizard satay, really!) and even the varieties of sambal, I opted for other adventures – a shopping therapy, a volcanic splendour and a cultural delight.

I stopped over at Dago Street -- straight from the airport. It was 10 minutes to 9am, just before the shops opened.

Together with my two colleagues, Steph and Mag, I walked along the street, originally designated for upper class Dutch houses and villas.

Remnants of Bandung’s colonial grandeur -- a testament to the name Paris van Java -- through Dutch-inspired architecture was seen along the long straight street.

Ten years ago, Dago Street morphed into a place with its own attractions. You could find almost everything there -- from toast to fashion.

Population and economic growth began impacting on the elite residential area around Dago Street in the early 1990’s with the mushrooming of shops and boutiques.

We are all cautious shoppers, strolling along the street, looking at names and not stepping into many shops. Of the hundreds of stores on both sides of the street, we only entered one shoes gallery and three other stores selling clothing.

Mag grabbed a blouse at the last minute – that was all we bagged -- which was quite a shame! But we had an unexpected experience ahead – one that every journalist would be excited about.

Unusual school

We spotted a school by the road. A sweet lady and a teenage student in uniform (later we learnt she was her sister) were about to enter the school. We were asked whether we would like to visit the school known as SMAK Dago.

Yes, why not? We were curious to find out what are those very rundown school blocks doing along the city’s main tourist destinations.

According to the lady, Giovany Kawihelany, SMAK Dago (Dago Christian Senior High School or Sekolah Menengah Atas Kristen Dago) has been running since 1950 and was a top school from 1970-1990 but has only 39 students now.

We did not probe its conspicuous decline and the caretaker told us not to take pictures inside the school compound because of a recent riot along Dago Street -- involving the group that runs SMAK Dago and another faction from Jakarta -- over the right to use a historical building at Dago Street -- the Lyceum building built in 1927.

During the July 2011 riot, two people were reportedly injured and a car set on fire, forcing the police to cordon off the city’s tourist destinations for one and a half hours. Stores were shut with customers trapped inside and SMAK Dago was closed for a week.

Eric, our tour guide, said Bandung is serious about education and there are many universities and institutions of higher learning in this historical Java city.

Indeed, of late, I had heard of students in Sibu, my home town, pursuing pharmacy in Bandung -- which is highly recommended by the education agents for its good standards and economical tuition fees.

Interestingly, Bandung has produced many famous Indonesian politicians. Sukarno, Suharto, Habibie and Megawati were all educated there.

Relaxed atmosphere

We moved to Rumah Mode, another popular shopping area. I love the landscape where non-shoppers could sip coffee and just laze around in a ‘green’ and relaxed setting for an out-of-this-world experience.

A young passenger (I forgot his name) sitting next to me in a bus said it would be even better if the landscape were more extensive so that men could hang around while their wives or girlfriends shopped to their hearts’ content.

Is that the strategy to get the women to shop more without the men bugging them to hurry up? I do not know, honestly.

Dago Street and Rumah Mode are not the only places for shopping, of course. There are more shops at Jalan Riau and Cihampelas.

Kamisah, an accounts executive, who was in our tour group, said: “Pasar Baru is the real shopping area where you can really bargain.”

She must be an experienced shopper, armed as she was, with a handy currency-conversion card for quick reference. I saw her bargain for souvenirs and was truly amazed by her ability to haggle for the best deals.

I did not get to experience that kind of back-and forth shopping caper although it was only 10 minutes’ walk from my hotel.

A hotel executive Lani told me Golden Flower Hotel is the top destination for Malaysian tourists because of its “downtown” location.

“Bandung is like a second home for many Malaysian visitors. They keep returning during the holidays,” he said.

It may well be so since Firefly, Malaysia Airlines and Air Asia have daily direct Kuala Lumpur-Bandung flights.

The city’s airport certainly needs serious upgrading. It took us an hour to clear immigration, and the queue ended just a few metres from where the aircraft had come to a stop after touchdown. Husein Sastranegara Airport is reported to handle 700 to 800 international visitors daily.

Land of fairy tales

Indonesia is a land of fairy tales or dongeng in the local language.

I have heard the stories of the Queen of the South Seas, Kanjeng Ratu Kidul, the brave little mousedeer, Sang Kancil and the bear with a little brain that loves eating honey. They are all dongeng.

So is the tale about Tangkuban Perahu, Indonesia’s famous and popular natural wonder in the form of an awe-inspiring volcanic crater.

The name given to this mountain -- Tangkuban Perahu -- is derived from a legend which tells of a mythical figure Sangkuriang who kicked his boat over in a rage and it landed upside down to form Mount Tangkuban Perahu.

Sangkuniang was cast out by his mother Dayang Sumbi for disobedience. In her sadness, she was granted the gift of eternal youth by the gods.

After many years in exile, Sangkuriang returned home and fell in love with his own mother. But after failing to marry her, he kicked over a boat he built for her, causing severe flooding and the creation of Tangkuban Perahu which means upturned boat in Sundanese.

The locals believe the vapours spewed by the volcano symbolise Sangkuriang’s unrestrained lust.

Spectacular journey

The journey to Tangkuhan Perahu was spectacular. We passed by a million-ringgit villas built by the German spy, Bereti, said to host many parties for the Dutch there in order to extract top secrets from them.

Upon arrival at the crater, crowds of souvenir sellers and the sulphurous stench from the volcano were the first things to greet visitors. Both may be somewhat overwhelming but were easily overcome.

The peddlers were not pushy. Once they heard a polite “no thank you” they would leave you alone.

I learned that from Eric and used it with great effect to move around the place.

“Don’t say wait and see -- they will follow you every-where,” Eric cautioned.

The choking effects of pungent sulphur steaming up from the depths of the crater were reduced by winds gusting constantly around the area. And it’s strictly off limits beyond the crater’s edge.

According to Eric, the public were previously allowed to descend some way down into the crater but this was stopped when the volcanic fumes reached dangerously high levels.

Snaking a portion of this rock-strewn landscape is a huddle of stalls, including cafes where visitors happily eat regardless of the wafting sulphurous smells.

Most of the stalls sell souvenirs -- anything from Tangkuban Perahu T-shirts to rather expensive polished semi-precious stones.

Many of the trees have a dried up dead look -- no doubt due to exposure to the volcanic emissions and extreme conditions at the summit.

The day was typically cold with strong wind blowing on the day of our visit.

According to Eric, when the sun shines, it can be hot but when it rains, streams of water will pour out of clouds you can almost touch.

Oh, how I would have loved to feel that “wow” moment of touching the rain-laden clouds but, sadly,
I missed it. It made a cold day colder – for me!

The last significant eruption of the volcano was in 1969. But the sulphurous steams constantly oozing through the rocky crevices from the depths of this chasm-like landscape suggest the mountain is dormant for now but may still have fire in its belly.

Will it wake up from its sleep one day?

Probably some 500 years later according to studies, Eric surmised.

These are the allures of Bandung – the historical buildings, the shopping bargains the haunting legends, the volcanic smoke, ashes, sulphurous steams and vapours that seem to swirl and linger forever.

But this Indonesian city will not be complete without the colourful culture of its very own known as Saung Angklung Udjo or simply the bamboo music that brings you to the playground of your childhood. That will be another story, another day. So stay tuned.

AWE-INSPIRING: The steaming volcanic crater

ON THE EDGE: A settlement at the edge of the volcanic cater

EXTREME CONDITIONS: Leafless trees around the mountain’s summit

CREATIVE: What a creative selling technique

CONGESTION: Typical massive traffic jam in Bandung

LANDMARK: The famous Pasar Baru

HELLO: Greetings from Giovany Kawihelany in Bandung

ON THE DECLINE: SMAK Dago has seen better days

COMMON SCENE: A vendor plying his ware among motorists caught in a traffic jam

ELEGANTLY SIMPLE: A simple yet elegant architectural design of a building along Dago Street

ROADSIDE STALL: Batagor (fish/tafu cake) by the road side

The rose within

(photo: Jocelyn Ting)

It’s Valentine’s Day. Early morning, a friend sent me a SMS, it reads –

Love yourself. Love yourself for where you’ve come from and how you’ve arrived here. Love yourself for where you are. And when you leave here, love yourself for the process of moving forward. No matter what happens, just love yourself while it’s happening, this is the way to honour the truth of who you really are. You are loved by this wise lady called Barbara De Angelis.

One of the “must” for Valentine’s Day is roses. Yes, roses, roses, roses everywhere.

I have a group of journalists working with me in the same office. I took a survey just before the end of the day to see if there were roses around.

A young charming journalist had one young bud in a vase on her table. She excitedly told me that she picked up the bud from the street and said the bud would soon blossom.

One male journalist jokingly said, “How can any beautiful flower come from the bud with so many thorns?

“No, within every bud, there is a rose. You have to water it.” Another remarked.

As it is with buds that will blossom into roses, within every soul there is a rose also.

There are many people who look themselves and see only the thorns, the faults. They despair, thinking that nothing good possibly come from them. They never nurture the good within them.

On valentine’s day, love yourself, reach past the thorns of your life, and let the rose within blossom many times over…Yes, within every soul there is a rose…

Most of all, Love God!

(This is a recycled post. Happy Valentine, may your day be filled with beautiful things and thoughts!)

God's Perfecting

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Much of the thoughts here is "recycled" from my blog post in 2007.

I have been attending a “high-power” meeting in KL about once every two months for the past decade. I have always amused myself as the “outstanding one” being always the only woman in the meeting, and being the only one who is not “high-power”.

For the past ten years, there are change of faces. Members of the board are actually representing the media, universities and government departments. I have been through with five terms of different Chairman.

While I remain, there was another journalist who remained for six years. (He had left after the third term) He was also the “outstanding” one, but among the gentlemen – he was the only one without a lounge suite on. He wore “black and white”.

I like his white shirts and black trousers – always neat, clean and classy. At one time, in the same meeting, he wore a “starched-shirt”. I could not see one “crease” on his shirt when he entered the meeting room.

“Oh, you starched your shirt so well,” I bubbled out the words.

He surprised me and all others who were early for the meeting with details on how to starch the shirt, how to iron – from A to Z, from good old days to modern days method.

As he talked and I listened, I visualized his hands moved with impressive deftness and dexterity on the shirts. And lo! a perfectly pressed, starched shirt in front of my eyes!

Is it not a perfecting picture of the workings of God? Is He not starching and ironing our worldly passions and pursuits and constantly perfecting us?

Let Him!

Missing from the reunion dinner menu

We have ten perfect dishes on our reunion dinner menu.

What's missing this year is "mee hoon soup". In fact, since dad in law passed away seven years ago, with him "missing" from the table, the "mee hoon soup" (or in foochow, hung-gang) has not been a must.

My late mother would never miss her special “yam cake” for Chinese New Year. When she passed away in 2000, the special “yam cake” is no longer on our reunion dinner table.

Though life is to be lived forward, looking back will always give us many fond memories of the loved ones missing from the table, and those special food missing from the dinner menu.

Looking back, we remember the courage and the love of our loved ones. These loved ones will never come back to us. But, we shall go to them! One day, we shall feast together at Jesus’ table. Then, it will be more than “Mee Hoon Soup” and “yam cake”.

Encounter with Batak culture

WHERE have all the Batak men gone?

My travelling companion, Jocelyn, also a journalist, posed this question after spending two days at Lake Toba in Northern Sumatra.

Whether in padi fields, vegetable gardens or oil palm plantations, we saw women working and at times, with little children around.

Flashing a mischievous smile, our driver-cum-tourist guide said: “Batak men do not work.”

The three of us women journalists all went “WOW” and almost in unsion, hollered: “We don’t want to stay here!”

A trait common among Batak people is that women make up the ‘working class’ while men rarely have to roll up their sleeves. It is also the women’s responsibility, as wives or sisters, to put food on the table before going out to work in the field.

The men, on the other hand, have an easy life, spending their time with friends, drinking coffee in coffeeshops or under the shade of bell flower trees.

The tourist guide revealed despite having to ensure enough income for the household, daughters never received any inheritance from their parents -- only sons are beneficiaries.

Long drive

As there is no direct air link to Lake Toba, we took a Firefly flight from Subang, Kuala Lumpur, to Medan Polonia International Airport. From there, it was a four-hour drive along a long, sloppy and narrow road to Parapat port which is further north of Sumatra.

There were plenty of dead, age-old traditions for three curious journalists to soak up. The long drive was definitely worth the experience, allowing us to savour the panoramic view of Toba and observe several elements of Batak cultural landscape such as vast rice fields and wetlands.

Toba is best known for rice cultivation which also holds a religious significance. It is believed to increase the power of the Batak high priests responsible for the agricultural prosperity.

Just as night fell, there was a heavy downpour. We learned there was still an hour’s journey ahead of us. As our driver got restless – apparently bugged by the constant buzzing of his handphone – his overtaking manoeuvres became a tat aggressive. And each time he stepped on the gas, I said a silent a prayer.

Throughout the journey, there was a car in front of us. It signalled for every turn but refused to let us pass!

On arrival at the hotel, our driver told us he needed to travel back to Medan as his son had been admitted to hospital. Ah, that probably accounted for his restlessness en route to Parapat.

I was impressed by his professionalism though as he assured us he would only leave after his colleague had arrived to replace him.

We stayed in the hotel for the night. And while enjoying a poolside dinner, we were looking forward to the next day’s programme – a lake cruise.

Lake Toba

From Parapat, several boats would come by every hour to take passengers for a leisurely cruise around Lake Toba.

This scenic lake was formed about 70,000 years ago following the eruption of a 700,000-year-old volcano. The blowup was possibly the largest recorded volcanic rupture within the last 25 million years.

Sailing along the approximately 450m deep lake, one could not help but feel overwhlemed by a sense of antiquity – that this body of water -- mysterious, brooding, yet beautiful and fascinating -- is one of the planet’s most ancient prehistoric sites.

There are about 1.5 million Batak people in Sumatra, most of whom are Christians with a smaller number of Islam followers while some still adhere to traditional reigious beliefs.

Batak societies are found mostly in North Sumatra which includes Toba, Karo and Angkola. The Toba locals are the only ones who strongly identify themselves as Bataks and speak a unique Batak dialect.

To catch a glimpse of traditional Batak lifestyle, you must go to Tomok, a Batak village on Samosir Island. That was what we did after a short cruise in the lake.

In Tomok, you can see traditional Batak architecture as you stroll along sandy roads lined with Sumatran pine trees. There are many custom homes called Jab (in Toba tongue) or traditional houses. The roof is constructed to provide a larger internal space, and decorated with ornate carvings of stars and suns, usually black, red and white in colour. Various symbols around the building decorations, the woodcarvings and the tomb imprints can also be seen.

All Batak tribes have their own specialities and the Toba Bataks are known for their woodcarvings, weavings and elaborate stone tombs. In Tomok, you can view all these in a traditional village setting with gorgeous houses standing alongside a flea market offering an array of cultural paraphernalias to bargain for.


Historical burial site

There are also plenty of myths, rituals and suspicions about humans and animals, life and death, villages and forests, warfare and agriculture. All these are observed during ceremonial rites.

Tucked beside a lane is the must-visit historical burial site of Batak King Sidabutar and his family. There are many stone tombs here, inlcuding the famous 200-year-old ship-shaped stone casket of King Sidabutar.

An on-site guide is available to explain the significance and meaning of the tombs. Apparently, the story is told over and over to tourists.

We were given a sash to wear before entering the cemetery, I believe, as a mark of respect for royalty buried there. In front of us were rows of stone sarcophagi.

Sidabutar is the ancient ruling clan of Tomok. Indeed, the sarcophagi of the ruling Sidabutar clan are the main attraction in Tomok.

King Ompu Soribuntu was highly respected by the Batak people in Tomok for establishing the Dalihan Natolu (literally three principles), the general philosophy that guided the Batak people. According to custom, when the king died, he was not buried in the ground but in a sarcophagus carved in stone and placed in the centre of the village. Seven days later, his descendants would plant a Hariara tree at his grave.

Another important Sidabutar ruler was King Ompu Ni Ujung Barita Sidabutar.

According to legend, when he was at an elderly age, he wanted to marry a woman named Anting Malela. During the engagement period, it was customary for Batak women to carry a cup without handles on their heads. But Anting broke with tradition as she wanted to end the engagement.

Furious at being spurned, the King used black magic to make her crazy. It was said Anting later disappeared in the wilderness and was never seen again.

When King Ompu Ni Ujung Barita died, he was placed in a sarcophagus beside his predecessor’s. The image of him wearing a turban-like headgear was carved on the front of the sarcophagus.

Although she broke off her betrothal to the king, Anting’s image was also sculptured behind the sarcophagus, showing her carrying a cup without handles over her head -- a symbol of the king’s command for obedience.

Later, European missionaries who came to Samosir island spread Christianity among the Bataks. King Ompu Solompoan Sidabutar was the first man to become a Christian in Tomok and he helped to spread the religion in his kingdom. King Ompu Solompoan’s grave spots a cross.

Further down, there is a doll on a stage with the story that a former king requested for
a dancing doll after losing of his son. This has become a funeral ritual.
Batak culture attaches great importance to preserving tombs, cemeteries and burial sites. This is evident in Samosir. Most of the tombs, even some large ornate bone-houses called tugu, bear intricate burial traditions.

Many cultures value life, change and progress but some cultures revere the past. The dead, age-old traditions and mysticism of symbols or tribal arts preserve a part of history that awaits exploration by those curious enough to delve into ancient cultures.

FASTER CONNECTION: Surprisingly, wi-fi and internet connection at Lake Toba is faster than that of our own in Sarawak.

TOUGH LOT: Batak women not only labour in
the field but also trade in the market.

ENTRANCE: The frontage of a Batak house.

MARK OF RESPECT: Visitors are given a sash
to wear before entering the stone tomb.

ROYAL TOMB: The stone tomb of Batak
King Sidabutar.

HARDY: Batak women labouring in the field

The Batak Museum

It was a journey of learning Batak culture and tradition for the three journalists.

MYSTICAL: Scenery around Lake Toba.