Citizens vs. Villagers

It's been quite some time since the last chance I visited Surabaya, the metropolis where I was born and grew up in. For 6 years now, I've been living in a village on the slope of Mount Welirang, where the air is clean, the water is fresh, the people live in harmony, and diseases are rare.
Sounds like Paradise?
Perhaps, yes. Especially to the eyes of those who spend their life (almost entirely) in big, crowded cities.
I didn't put too much realization into it until last week, when my Diamond Director came all the way from Jakarta to give a two-days workshop in Surabaya and I was scheduled to meet her.
(Feel free to read my experience with Nadia M. Yuniardo here.)
Since the hotel she was staying in was new, and we didn't know the exact spot (though we did get the address), Octavian and I went asking people along the streets.
I was very much taken aback as finding out the way people of this city responded to a couple of strangers' question.
"I don't know," some of them replied, without the slightest concern.
"There," a suspiciously eyeing man said. "Go there. Turn right."
"Follow that road," said another, avoiding our eyes (or was it because he was deep into other matters that his eyes were not focused?).
Very pathetic!
"What's with these people?" I wondered.
We began to feel deep pity for the Surabayan. Too much burden at work, at home, in the neighborhood, and extremely high competition in social life must have overwhelmed these people and resulted in the ever-increasing rate of stress.
I suddenly missed my village that I just left for simply a couple of hours. Oh, how the villagers always smile and speak kindly from the heart (even to strangers)! How we always greet each other as we run into each other on the roads! How life is ever so tranquil and blissful!
Without stress, without the need for competition, without air-noise-water pollution, and without fast-food restaurants, people tend to live healthier and longer. It's a treasure we won't give up for the wealth of the metropolis!
We finished our business in Surabaya as fast as we could. And, just as the sun was going down, I told my husband, "GET ME OUT OF HERE...!! THIS PLACE IS DRIVING ME NUTS...!!"

Mount Welirang

Dear Friends,

Here's the picture of Mount Welirang that I took from opposite our house here in the village of Slepi. Very beautiful, isn't it?
The word "Welirang" in Javanese means "sulfur." Up to this day, people mine sulfur from the crate of the mountain for chemical ingredients in soaps and cosmetics.
Welirang is an active volcano, thus people mine its sulfur to prevent it from erupting. If it does, the whole resort villages located on its slope (according our tranquil environment) will surely vanish!
Such is the risk of residing on the lap of a fiery, slumbering giant.

Sun-scorched Surabaya and Sunny Arizona

Indonesia is at the turn of the season. By the end of this month, the dry season will end and the rainy season will begin. And, as a natural side-effect, the weather has become extremely hot! October is always the hottest month of the year in this country.
Take Surabaya for example. This hottest city in Indonesia has turned even much hotter during the past few weeks. Everyday I read in Facebook statuses about how Surabaya is turning into hell or a fiery oven. And no wonder! In other months the temperature at noon is usually around 39º C (102º F) according to 2008 survey, let alone in October. The heat may go beyond that number!
Some friends of mine, who reside in Surabaya, complain about how they begin feeling uncomfortable living in this Crocodile City. In dry season, the weather is so hot. In rainy season, they’re always threatened by flood. One of my husband’s relatives calls her friend lucky. He’s moved to San Fransisco, CA with his wife and children, won a green card, got a nice job, and become a permanent resident.
“Why don’t you move to San Fransisco, instead?” I teased her.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll adapt to the weather,” she shuddered. “Yes, we’re grilled to death in this city, but to think about moving to a four-season country… I don’t think I can stand the coldness of winter. You know it can go way beyond -2ºC (35º F) in USA.”
Oh, no. I guess she’s got the wrong idea about living in the States. They’ve got 52 states in USA, and not all of them have four seasons. The southern states in the continent have mild climate and temperature – a bit similar to tropical countries, only fairly cooler.
Take Arizona for example. The southern part of this Grand Canyon State does not experience the coldness of winter. The temperature is approximately 27º C (80º F) in sunny season. That is quite alike to some (cooler) cities in Indonesia. For other US residents, though, southern Arizona is considered warm and sunny, and many people choose to move there to improve their health.
Living in Arizona is a privilege for those who love nature and desire to gain a healthier life. Due to its warm climate and low humidity, southern Arizona is a good place to avoid pneumonia and other lung diseases. And what is more, it’s got magnificent scenery! The Grand Canyon is simply the icon of this state, not to mention the saguaro cactus (the state flower) that grows in its desert, the Colorado River, the church San Xavier del Bac, and the annual Parada del Sol (Parade of the Sun) in Scottsdale.
Real estates in Arizona are growing so as to provide comfortable housing for new residents. More and more are moving to this state since climate and scenery have stimulated tourism. Thus, many people from other parts of the USA as well as the world have been considering about migrating (and immigrating) to Arizona. The state government is working to keep a balance between preserving the natural resources, national parks and wildlife as well as providing an enjoyable place of residence for new dwellers.
So, are you thinking about moving to the USA yet desiring a climate much resembling Indonesia? Try Arizona!

Surabaya: Not the Home of Art and Cultural Heritage

What do I miss most from Surabaya?

No, not the theatres, malls and shopping centers – though they sprout all over the city like mushrooms in rainy seasons. And not the food and beverages either. Not the night life and everything that comes with it.

Rather, it’s the libraries (small but comfortable as I remember them) and art-and-cultural events (which are never held too often, and not in great scale either).

Oh, how I miss The British Council with its fine collection, and the bibliotheque of CCCL with its artistic interior! I used to spend hours reading and relaxing in these libraries, allowing my mind to be carried away to distant lands or sparked with brand new ideas. I miss the dances and theatres held in Cak Durasim, as well as the art exhibitions in Balai Pemuda. I miss the piano recitals, chamber music and jazz concerts held in Mandarin Oriental, Novotel and Sheraton. Musicians from Germany and France would perform in these public spots as part of bilateral art-and-cultural exchange programs.

But always, as I observe for years, the libraries are never too packed with people seeking knowledge or simply digging up information, just as the art and cultural exhibitions are never too crowded with audience desiring to listen to or watch a genuine masterpiece. I tend to meet the same people over and over, as if art, culture and knowledge in this city belonged to a certain group of highly-exclusive audience.

It is not so (or so I’ve heard) in Jakarta, Bandung and Jogjakarta. Jakarta has all the embassies of the world proposing art-and-cultural programs so that there are always two or three events held each week! Bandung is not so far behind the capital city, and Jogjakarta is so rich in art-and-cultural heritage that even the air you breathe smells of wisdom and noble art!

What about Surabaya?

Surabaya, on the other hand, is not so keen on enhancing the growth of art and culture within its walls.

Why? Because – naturally – the Surabayans are business-oriented, hard-working people. At the heart of the city life are competitions and career-building, not the subtleness of art and socio-cultural heritage. The frame of mind of the citizens is focused on economic growth and rate of prosperity.

It’s not a wonder that:

• Libraries are mostly visited by students, scholars and researchers seeking sources for their homework and papers. Rarely would people outside the circle of academicians spend their precious time (for time is money) lounging in public libraries for soul-nourishment.
• Art-and-cultural events are attended by a group of people (mostly those of relevant professions such as artists, musicians and writers) who anchor their interest in these fields. And trust me, their number is never big.
• Music schools and courses are enrolled by students whose parents desire prestige for their children. Music courses are expensive; therefore, parents think that the more their children master (classical European) music, the more prestigious their value becomes in the eyes of others.
• Such music schools and courses focus on competitions (and along with it: profit) to satisfy parents’ desire to gain fame and prestige for their children, and not on the joy and contentment of the children themselves in being able to play good music for enjoyment.

Thus, in the midst of the city’s busyness and pursuit for prosperity, art-and-culture lies estranged, desolate and miserably lonely.

And high-perched on the slope of this mountain, I sit down and sigh…

Chandra Wilwatikta

Have you ever visited Taman Chandra Wilwatikta in Pandaan?
I have.
It’s located right in front of Dewi Sri Restaurant, on the border of Pandaan and Prigen (Pasuruan – East Java). You won’t miss the eye-catcher of the site: they’ve got a pack of deer confined right at the gateway. On weekends, parents take their children to see and feed these animals, as we often observe. In fact, the impression has taken root in my mind for years that I thought of the site as a sort of wildlife preservation.
I was badly mistaken!
Last week, I took a walk to the site and found out it’s got a main office, a large seminary room, a dining hall, some cottages, and an outdoor amphitheatre that can take in 1,000 audience! I took a long time strolling around the amphitheatre, wondering what could possibly have happened to the site. Grand and spectacular it must have been! Even the two gigantic giant statues and the two humongous banyan trees (one on each side of the theatre) seemed small compared to the whole stone seats surrounding them.
But now, the place seems to be deserted. Moss and thickets overgrow on the stony paths and isles. The breeze sweeping the leafy trees around it whispers the coldness and forlornness of the site, as if weeping and recalling a long lost past.
Chandra Wilwatikta used to be the centre of art exhibition in East Java, from dancing, theatre, and wayang orang to music concerts. But its popularity began to diminish post-monetary crisis in 1998. More and more interests were drawn toward the recuperation of East Java’s economic condition that eventually art lost its importance and became mere accessory. Chandra Wilwatikta was then abandoned.
Nowadays, it is mostly used to hold seminars and trainings for civil servants. On several occasions, it also holds dancing and concerts, but none too often. In the midst of East Java’s busyness and financial growth, the site lies dormant – as still as a slumbering giant…

Our Village

If you ever come to visit us, you’d probably get the impression that we’re living in a fairy-tale’s setting. Our house is located on the slope of a mountain where streams flow to water the nearby rice-farms. Not far away, there’s a waterfall and hundreds of acre of harvest field – green in sowing season, gold in harvest time.
Yet closer to the peak of the mountain stand a hundred mansions, some of marble, some of granite, some are large, some are very large, some look like castles, some like palaces and shrines. It greatly resembles the pictures in bedtime stories that depict a great palace overlooking towns and villages where the subjects of the nobles live.
But we prefer being the subjects, not the nobles.
Why, you might ask?
Because… The nobles live in the city, immersing themselves in projects of making money to pay for their mansions’s bills and housekeeping. They are only able to visit their lofty mansions four times a month (maximum), on weekends and public holidays.
They don’t live here. They have no idea how luxurious it is to live here.
We dwell in houses of bricks and stones. Most of us don’t even have fences to mark the boundary of our homes. Some of us are farmers, some are herdsmen, while others are teachers, merchants, and grocers.
Every morning, we rise before the sun luminates the horizon, say our prayers and light the firewood on the hearth. We breathe the fresh air tinted with pine scent and drink water straight from the spring. We work our fields and take our cattle out for grazing. We walk to the woods to collect firewood and none of us dies before reaching 70 years of age.
And none of us ever dreams of becoming a nobleman…!