Another quinessential Bandung trip is up the dormant volcano known as Tangkuban Parahu, the "Inverted Boat-shape" volcano, which is about 30km north of Bandung. It's a nice spot to spend a few hours, despite the hordes of tourists, and is certainly worth the long journey to get there (at least an hour to drive, more on angkot/colt/ojek).
Here's the legend behind the unusual shape of the volcano: There was once a god who, unbeknownst to himself, fell in love with his mother. He proposes to her and she, for some reason, accepts. I guess this was before the story of Oedipus got into wide circulation. Later she realises this is a terrible idea (as you would) and tries to dissuade him, though not, apparently, by telling him that she's his mother. Instead she opts to ask him to create an enormous lake and a canoe with which to cross it, all in one night. As he's a god this turns out to be difficult, but not impossible. So it's getting towards dawn and she realises, damn, he's going to make it, and so sneaky as you like, she starts making cockerel noises to suggest that dawn is sooner than he thinks. Luckily, this god turns out to be fairly slow-witted, and thinking his task is doomed to failure, he kicks the nearly completed canoe, which lands upside-down on a local mountain ridge (handy, that). Then he goes away and is never heard of again, apparently.
Two creation stories in one: The lake basin in which Bandung is held, and the weird boat-shaped volcano that overlooks it. But I digress.
The entrance fee is the good old-fashioned two-tier price: 50,000 rupiah for foreigners, and about 7,000 rupiah for locals. You have to pay to take a car in, too. The road winds up, past turnings for the "son" and "daughter" craters which are nearby. At one of these (I forget which), you can take an egg to boil in the hot springs, but eating it is not recommended unless you like the taste of sulphur. If you're in a coach you have to get off about halfway up and walk the rest of the way, or take either a minibus or ojek to the lip of the volcano.
At the top there's a fantastic view over the whole crater, at which you can park your car if you get there early enough. One lookout point gives you another great view of the volcano, whilst on the other side above the mosque there's an alright view over Lembang and Bandung in the distance (visible only on those rare clear days). There are also lots of facilities here should you need them: Tourist information, toilets, food stalls, people selling funny hats, angklungs...
The crater itself is quite impressive. There's a stupidly toxic-looking lake at one end and lots of steam at the other end, making a terrific noise as it jets out of the earth. Stumpy-looking trees and shrubs cling to life at the edge of the caldera, and there's a generally noxious, sulphurous smell in the air (probably sulphur). You're supposed to not stand in one place for more than 15 minutes, though how this ruling is applied to the vendors I've no idea.
Walk along around the lip of the volcano for more cool views of the place. There are, typically, a whole load of people selling all kinds of stuff, from angklung and gamelan, through rice bowls and spoons, to obligatory volcano ninjas (don't ask). There are also some more interesting local specialities: Bags of powdered sulphur and knobbly twigs which when brewed are reputedly good for rheumatism. Of course there's food, and fried corn is particularly prevalent. Not sure how I'd feeling about eating it though.
Apparently there are a few weeks of the year when you can actually go inside the crater itself, but this sounds kind of terrifying. Having said that, it's kind of comforting to think that if the volcano did again erupt, you'd be polished off quicker up at the volcano than down in Bandung. And, with all the traffic you'd have to battle with to get out of the way of the lava, you would be polished off.
On the way back down from the volcano, keep an eye out for the massive government tea plantations just off the main road. You can head into the rolling hills and, if you turn your back to the road, you can't see civilization anymore. There's still a little bit of untamed forest at the top of some of these hills, which makes for an amazing contrast with the regular patterns of the tea plantations.
Heading back towards Bandung,you can also see some of the traditional markets that Lembang and nearby towns are famous for. The area, with all its volcanic soil, is very fertile, and is famous for fruit, vegetables, milk and rabbits, all of which you can buy at the roadside.
Finally, if you're like me, you'll want to buy a hammock, which you can also find at the side of the road towards the volcano. The woods here are a well-established camping spot, and apparently "the hammock's the thing." I still have no idea how we shall fit it in our bags.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Dago Pakar
If you're in Bandung and missing green space, Dago Pakar (also known as Dago Park) is probably the place to go. Situated beyond the end of Jalan Dago, it's possibly the only place in all of Bandung where you can go for a walk. Apparently you can walk from here all the way to Lembang in the north-east, but I'm not sure how you go about this.
There are maybe three ways to get to Dago Pakar:
There are maybe three ways to get to Dago Pakar:
- Get someone to drive you there. This is definitely the easiest option and is the one we opted for;
- Take a taxi. Probably easy, but you might get ripped off or run the risk that your friendly neighbourhood taxi driver won't have a clue what you're on about;
- Take an angkot to Terminal Dago, then look for an ojek (motorbike taxi) to take you to the top. I've never tried to negotiate this, but try to get a price first. Apparently 15,000 rupiah will do the trick.
Once there, it's 50,000 rupiah per foreigner to get in (substantial discounts are available for locals). The best thing about Dago Pakar is that there are trees, birds, plants and green space. It's pretty nice. There are lots of stalls selling food, drink and snacks too, so you could spend a whole day here in exploration. There aren't loads of paths to follow but check out the maps near the entrance anyway - follow the signs for the Japanese Cave (Jepang) and the Dutch Cave.
These two caves were constructed by the Dutch and Japanese during their occupations of Bandung. Why exactly escapes me (the explanatory signs are in Indonesian) but they are extensive bunker systems leading back into the rock from the main path.
The Japanese bunker is massive and very, very dark - if you go in, you can hire a torch for 5,000 rupiah from one of the many guides outside. We didn't hire a guide but if you're a foreigner you'll be accosted with offers of tours and torches. It's not terrifically exciting unless you go quite deep into the cave system where you can see absolutely loads of bats. Hold the torch near your eyes and you'll be able to see the reflections from their eyes. You can also watch their ears twitching as they echo-locate, and even hear their relatively low social calls. There are also some small lizards who live in the air vents of the cave, but beware because these tunnels are pretty small and don't lead to path-level exits in the rock face.
The Dutch bunker is a little further along the path. There is an entrance on either side of the rock face and some side tunnels, so you only need a torch if you're going to explore these (note that if you want a torch, you'll have to pay again for one here). There are some bricked up parts of this tunnel which have been broken into (or out of...), which is kind of creepy. Apparently some torture of revolutionaries took place here during Indonesia's struggle for independence against the Dutch and their allies.
The path continues through the park along the main river, which runs far below you between the trees. The path can sometimes be quite rough so it's worth wearing decent footwear if you're going to explore past the two bunker systems. Alternatively you can get a ojek (again, you'll be accosted by these) along the path - watch out for these as you're walking along, but they do make quite a racket. The cyclists, however, do not (and they don't equip themselves with bells, either).
There are quite a lot of macaques who live in the park, often fed by the stalls who use them to bring tourists in. Whilst they seem quite tame, they can be violent if they think you have food, so be careful, and try not to carry food in your hands or plastic bags. Feeding the monkeys isn't strictly discouraged by the park, but it's not advisable - macaques see the handing over of food as a sign of subservience, and they're eventually going to twig that humans are basically a subservient species who they can run all over; this is how they get so violent and aggressive.
Further down there is a beautiful waterfall that passes through a natural stone arch. Unfortunately the view of it is broken by trees, but you can still just about see it and get a classic Indonesian photo (Gents: Serious face on. Ladies: Point to your super-smile).
There's a fork in the path that leads to an interesting diversion: One of the hydroelectric dams/weirs which supply some of Bandung's electricity. If you're a geeky engineer like me, you can go and see this, look at all the valves, filters and sluice gates. Whilst it ain't exactly pretty, it's pretty interesting. There are also some very large piles of rubbish at either side which are screened out of the river. Sad to think of people chucking rubbish in upstream, but there you go.
The path continues through the park to more waterfalls, woods and ultimately Lembang, but we turned back before we had a chance to explore. But if you find yourself craving the natural world, it's a great place to spend any amount of time.
Monday, December 03, 2012
Pak Udjo's Workshop
To continue our super-Indonesian day, we were driven to Pak Udjo's Workshop, also known simply as Udjo. It's a workshop, shop-gallery and cultural centre in Bandung which focuses on angklung, traditional Indonesian bamboo chimes.
Once you arrive, and if you're lucky, you can catch a musical performance. I don't think there are lots of these per day - there's probably a schedule on their website. This is as strange as it is impressive - it probably makes more sense if you catch it from the start, though, which we failed to do. There are drums, gambang (gamelan) and of course the angklung themselves. Not to mention singing and dancing. I am told the music is to a pentatonic, i.e. five-note scale, similar to traditional Chinese music.
Once you're done with this, head down and through to the workshops. Here you can find the completed instruments. The base unit of an angklung is a small bamboo frame containing two or three pieces of bamboo tuned to the same tone, an octave apart. These are hung on hooks within much larger portable frames. The instrument is played by shaking the smaller frames to a tune. The performance is quite demanding as the instrument can be a couple of metres across, and it's not exactly slow music. I believe that there are regional variations between the chimes, but I'm not sure how this is applied.
Next you can see the angklung and gambang in various stages of construction. The chimes themselves are cut from bamboo to roughly the right length, then about half of the circumference of one half of the length is hacked away, using a machete. These rough bits will be passed to a (very skilled!) chap who shaves bits off until the correct note is achieved. Each chime takes perhaps 5 minutes to create; after 3 minutes I couldn't tell the difference between the note tapped on his xylophone and the note sounding when he struck the chime with his knife. Impressive stuff.
There's also a video about the construction of the chimes, but it was in Indonesian so I had no idea what was going on. Better just to watch the craftsmen producing them.
Lastly you can (and should) go and check out the shop, because it's full of bamboo instruments, puppets and some samples of the music. Because the whole complex is pretty forward-thinking and well set-up for local and foreign tourists, this is perhaps the best place in Bandung to buy handicraft souvenirs of traditional puppets and instruments. Certainly the best place I've seen, anyway, in my six weeks here. It is, of course, very busy - but it's worth the visit to watch the guy tuning bamboo, in the very least.
Once you arrive, and if you're lucky, you can catch a musical performance. I don't think there are lots of these per day - there's probably a schedule on their website. This is as strange as it is impressive - it probably makes more sense if you catch it from the start, though, which we failed to do. There are drums, gambang (gamelan) and of course the angklung themselves. Not to mention singing and dancing. I am told the music is to a pentatonic, i.e. five-note scale, similar to traditional Chinese music.
Once you're done with this, head down and through to the workshops. Here you can find the completed instruments. The base unit of an angklung is a small bamboo frame containing two or three pieces of bamboo tuned to the same tone, an octave apart. These are hung on hooks within much larger portable frames. The instrument is played by shaking the smaller frames to a tune. The performance is quite demanding as the instrument can be a couple of metres across, and it's not exactly slow music. I believe that there are regional variations between the chimes, but I'm not sure how this is applied.
Next you can see the angklung and gambang in various stages of construction. The chimes themselves are cut from bamboo to roughly the right length, then about half of the circumference of one half of the length is hacked away, using a machete. These rough bits will be passed to a (very skilled!) chap who shaves bits off until the correct note is achieved. Each chime takes perhaps 5 minutes to create; after 3 minutes I couldn't tell the difference between the note tapped on his xylophone and the note sounding when he struck the chime with his knife. Impressive stuff.
There's also a video about the construction of the chimes, but it was in Indonesian so I had no idea what was going on. Better just to watch the craftsmen producing them.
Lastly you can (and should) go and check out the shop, because it's full of bamboo instruments, puppets and some samples of the music. Because the whole complex is pretty forward-thinking and well set-up for local and foreign tourists, this is perhaps the best place in Bandung to buy handicraft souvenirs of traditional puppets and instruments. Certainly the best place I've seen, anyway, in my six weeks here. It is, of course, very busy - but it's worth the visit to watch the guy tuning bamboo, in the very least.
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Batik Course
On Saturday we took a trip to Komar Batik, Bandung, for a very basic course in batik. For those unfamiliar with the idea, batik uses wax and dye to create beautiful, intricate patterns for cloth and clothes. The very old traditional methods have been practised in Indonesia (and Malaysia) for centuries, but there's a resurgence in popularity at the moment.
Komar Batik is in the north of Bandung and is a pretty forward-looking kind of place. Not only are the batiks produced exceptional and amazing, but you can go and look around the place to get an idea of how the items are produced. Or just check out the showroom, which is full of beautiful cloth, shirts and bags. If you're really into it, which we are, then you can also do one of a number of course packages (check out Wisata Batik for more information).
The first thing to do is choose your stamp. The stamps are made from copper because of its great thermal properties. More on this later. Komar have over 4,000 batik stamps, which last for a very long time, maybe upwards of 20 years. They begin life as pencil-drawn designs on paper, which are then painstakingly turned into copper stamps by very skilled craftsmen, patiently sticking strips of copper into a wooden frames. Komar use recycled copper, from old cables. The designs apparently take months to construct, and looking at the intricate designs I can really believe it. There is an enormous range of stamps to choose from, from the traditional, localised designs from all over Java, through animal and plant designs, and to more modern designs like aeroplanes, bicycles, Vespas and Android symbols.
Stamps are slowly heated in a bowl of paraffin wax suspended over a flame. Once the stamp is up to temperature, it is removed and the excess wax flicked off. It's at this point that your clothes get waxy. The stamps are tough and heavy, so the stampers tend to be pretty big, strong chaps who do this like it's nothing (I don't think I could do it all day). The aim is to press the stamp down smoothly but firmly onto your cloth, and remove it quickly and vertically upwards to avoid smudging. It can be a big difficult to do all of this at once. Hopefully the end result will be thin, dark, consistent lines with wax on both sides of the cloth.
With a short course you do only one colour, so the next step is the canting (pronounced chanting). You're essentially just pouring wax onto your cloth in a controlled way - adding bits to the design maybe. Some designs are only done with canting too, i.e. with no stamps, and these tend to attract a premium. This is because canting is really time consuming. You dip the pens into a bowl of wax, to fill the bowl. Next you must remove it carefully to ensure you don't spill it, then wipe the drips on a plastic mat covering your legs. Holding your cloth in your other hand, at an angle to the horizontal, whilst holding the pen slightly upwards, you can use the pen to create lines and dots on your design. Patience is necessary here, because you have to allow the wax time to permeate to the other side, otherwise your dye will just come through. When you feel the heat on your other hand you know it's ready. A steady hand and slow pace is necessary for the beginner (you may come away with slightly scolded hands).
Traditionally this role is fulfilled by women, who supposedly have more patience for the fiddly batik designs. This is probably true. They sit in circles around the bowls of wax, and it seems pretty sociable and relaxed, which is definitely a good thing considering the size and intricacy of some of the designs.
Next, the dyeing process. Your design is soaked in water then dunked in the dyes. Some colours need two different dyes, but maybe not in the combinations you might expect - blue, for example, is made from a yellow and a green dye. Your cloth goes from plain white to the brilliant colours you see in batik cloth, and the transformation is rapid and quite impressive. The wax is still on at this point and takes on a bronze hue, which looks really attractive. The dyed cloth is then dunked in hot water with soda ash, which you definitely don't want to get on your skin. The wax comes off and you're left with your stamped and canted design in white on a strong, bright colour. Suddenly you've got batik!
The cloth used is very thin and so drying it takes no time at all. Plenty of time to browse through the shop, though - designs from all over Java, either in cloth form or ready-made into pretty snazzy clothes. Having seen the work that goes into making the cloth, it's exceptionally good value, and the quality is incredible. Best of all, you get to help an up-and-coming batik business that's not only keeping the tradition alive, but modernising all the time and even producing new designs, something uncommon in batik manufacture. And to boot, a piece of cloth with your own design on, and the skills to make it again. Well worth the trip!
Komar Batik is in the north of Bandung and is a pretty forward-looking kind of place. Not only are the batiks produced exceptional and amazing, but you can go and look around the place to get an idea of how the items are produced. Or just check out the showroom, which is full of beautiful cloth, shirts and bags. If you're really into it, which we are, then you can also do one of a number of course packages (check out Wisata Batik for more information).
The first thing to do is choose your stamp. The stamps are made from copper because of its great thermal properties. More on this later. Komar have over 4,000 batik stamps, which last for a very long time, maybe upwards of 20 years. They begin life as pencil-drawn designs on paper, which are then painstakingly turned into copper stamps by very skilled craftsmen, patiently sticking strips of copper into a wooden frames. Komar use recycled copper, from old cables. The designs apparently take months to construct, and looking at the intricate designs I can really believe it. There is an enormous range of stamps to choose from, from the traditional, localised designs from all over Java, through animal and plant designs, and to more modern designs like aeroplanes, bicycles, Vespas and Android symbols.
Stamps are slowly heated in a bowl of paraffin wax suspended over a flame. Once the stamp is up to temperature, it is removed and the excess wax flicked off. It's at this point that your clothes get waxy. The stamps are tough and heavy, so the stampers tend to be pretty big, strong chaps who do this like it's nothing (I don't think I could do it all day). The aim is to press the stamp down smoothly but firmly onto your cloth, and remove it quickly and vertically upwards to avoid smudging. It can be a big difficult to do all of this at once. Hopefully the end result will be thin, dark, consistent lines with wax on both sides of the cloth.
With a short course you do only one colour, so the next step is the canting (pronounced chanting). You're essentially just pouring wax onto your cloth in a controlled way - adding bits to the design maybe. Some designs are only done with canting too, i.e. with no stamps, and these tend to attract a premium. This is because canting is really time consuming. You dip the pens into a bowl of wax, to fill the bowl. Next you must remove it carefully to ensure you don't spill it, then wipe the drips on a plastic mat covering your legs. Holding your cloth in your other hand, at an angle to the horizontal, whilst holding the pen slightly upwards, you can use the pen to create lines and dots on your design. Patience is necessary here, because you have to allow the wax time to permeate to the other side, otherwise your dye will just come through. When you feel the heat on your other hand you know it's ready. A steady hand and slow pace is necessary for the beginner (you may come away with slightly scolded hands).
Traditionally this role is fulfilled by women, who supposedly have more patience for the fiddly batik designs. This is probably true. They sit in circles around the bowls of wax, and it seems pretty sociable and relaxed, which is definitely a good thing considering the size and intricacy of some of the designs.
Next, the dyeing process. Your design is soaked in water then dunked in the dyes. Some colours need two different dyes, but maybe not in the combinations you might expect - blue, for example, is made from a yellow and a green dye. Your cloth goes from plain white to the brilliant colours you see in batik cloth, and the transformation is rapid and quite impressive. The wax is still on at this point and takes on a bronze hue, which looks really attractive. The dyed cloth is then dunked in hot water with soda ash, which you definitely don't want to get on your skin. The wax comes off and you're left with your stamped and canted design in white on a strong, bright colour. Suddenly you've got batik!
The cloth used is very thin and so drying it takes no time at all. Plenty of time to browse through the shop, though - designs from all over Java, either in cloth form or ready-made into pretty snazzy clothes. Having seen the work that goes into making the cloth, it's exceptionally good value, and the quality is incredible. Best of all, you get to help an up-and-coming batik business that's not only keeping the tradition alive, but modernising all the time and even producing new designs, something uncommon in batik manufacture. And to boot, a piece of cloth with your own design on, and the skills to make it again. Well worth the trip!
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