The Journey South (Part 2)

National law invoked to protect durian tree

This is the second post describing my vagabondage through the provinces of Jambi, West Sumatra, Bengkulu, and South Sumatra.  I'm currently at 1100 kilometers, which is a long way on Sumatra.  This post describes some of the things I saw during the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth days of my trip.  The trip is part of my dissertation research, which examines the politics of conservation at Sumatra's Kerinci Seblat National Park.  I've embarked on this long motorcycle ride to visit seats of government and to talk with elected and appointed officials about policy direction and their perceptions towards the park, because on Sumatra you have to physically go to the offices and talk face to face with people to get anything done.  It's a long road both literally and figuratively, but it's a good way to see this seldom-visited corner of the Earth.

With the elephants (again)

Monkeying around with elephants

The next stop on the journey was the Forestry Ministry's elephant center in Seblat, which is run by my friend Yanti.  Yanti is a veterinarian for the office of natural resource management in Bengkulu province, and she agreed to accompany me to some villages in the area.  Whenever I talk to Yanti I'm always amazed at the amount of responsibility she has; in addition to managing the elephant camp she also has a project on Enggano, a large island off the coast of Sumatra, and she is on call 24-7 to treat animals like tigers and bears that get caught in traps and need emergency surgery.  After about 3 hours on the road I arrived at the elephant camp, parked my bike, and took one of the camp's dugout canoes across the Seblat river.  I was happy to see my friend and all the mahouts, who are a pretty jolly bunch.  There were also a number of volunteers from several western countries under a program sponsored by the Dejavato Foundation, which is based in Surabaya and offers foreigners the opportunity to do volunteer tourism in Indonesia.  The participants told me that this particular trip cost 180 euros for two weeks, and during that time they get training from the mahouts and help care for the elephants.  It seems like a really good deal for an opportunity most people will never have.  Plus they get exposure to elephants that would never be allowed in "developed" countries.  If you want to learn more about Dejavato and their programs, visit their site here.

Trematode egg

In exchange for helping me Yanti cajoled me into doing some work at the camp, which including analyzing elephant poop for parasites.  So after a crash course on the types of organisms that sometimes inhabit the bowels of large pachyderms, I set to work making slides and examining them under a microscope.  Most of the elephants were "clean", but we did find that one has some "passengers", the eggs of which you can see in the photo to the left.  Over the course of two days we visited a couple of villages and some park personnel that are stationed at the post in Seblat.  One of the villages we visited was some distance away, located about 15 kilometers off the main road and accessible via dirt and gravel roads.  We had to pass through a palm oil plantation to get there, so it was a neat chance to see the facilities.  We had a good time chatting with the village head, who was quite a character.  He asked me to ask the park to move the border markers of the park a kilometer or so further away from the village, which entertained me because he assumed I had the type of influence that could get hundreds of hectares of protected land degazetted.

I had to break my personal rule of not driving after dark on the way back.  I don't like driving through the countryside in the dark because visibility is limited, but on the positive side you always know whether or not there is someone coming the other way on a blind curve.  But then about 2 hours into the 3 hour drive the sky opened up on us, and so I had to slow down.  Still the rain felt like needles on my chest as I drove, and to cap it all off the chain kept slipping off my bike until we were only going about half a kilometer between refitting it.  So there we were out in the middle of nowhere, very tired, very wet, and very frustrated at being stuck with a long way yet to go.  At this point I was about at my limits and I caught myself asking out loud "Why in the &%(@ am I doing this?"  Fortunately, though, I was able to find a villager with some wrenches which I borrowed to make the necessary adjustments to the back axle and get back on the road.  It was a trying experience though. 

Road Conditions

Seblat is about 3 hours south of Mukomuko city, which I mentioned in the previous post.  The road is quite nice and there isn't too much traffic.  You'll pass through a few small towns and there's a gas station at Ipuh, which is a larger market town.  Other than the beach and the oil palms there isn't too much of note, but when I was in Bengkulu city I learned that there are the ruins of a British fort somewhere on this stretch.  I don't know exactly where they are though.  Take sunscreen or wear sleeves because you'll spend a lot of time under the sun.  The road is suitable for bicycling, and as I mentioned in the previous post foreign tourists are occasionally seen making the trip on bikes. 

Watch your step...

After a couple of days at the elephant camp I again headed south in the direction of Arga Makmur, the district capital of Bengkulu Utara district, where I wanted to interview the district headman, talk to some people at the regional planning office, and pick up some policy documents.  The drive south from Seblat is quite nice until you get to Ketahun and then it gets really bad really fast.  There is a lot of coal in Bengkulu, and where you have coal you have coal mining and coal trucks.  The problem in Bengkulu and elsewhere in Sumatra is that the trucks are generally overloaded, which puts a lot of stress on the asphalt roads, which break into pieces, making for a very bumpy and slow ride.  Although people complain about the problem, the government hasn't taken any real action to enforce the weight restrictions or repair the road in many places. 

As you can see from the picture to the left, there's another danger along this stretch of "highway": huge chunks of the road falling into the sea.  Though people had warned me that the road was "missing" in some places, I didn't quite believe them.  How could a road be "missing"?  But now I know.  The road is indeed missing.  I tried to figure out how you would go about repairing this kind of problem, and I guess the best way would be to build the road further inland.  Anyway, if you happen to be on the road between Ketahun and Arga Makmur be careful because the ground may give way beneath you and you might plummet into the ocean.

I went to Arga Makmur because I want to visit the district headman, but to do so I first have to get a letter from one of the superfluous bureaucratic entities, which takes time.  So I submitted my documentation and then left town, figuring I could pass back through in a few days, pick up the letter, and then go to the Bupati's office and the planning department.  In one of the villages I visited near the elephant camp I met a guy who runs a local NGO and is also a reporter for the local paper.  Coincidentally he lives in Arga Makmur and has inside connections and said he would help me with the visits, but I had to get the letter first.  

Road Conditions

It takes between 2 and 3 hours to get to Arga Makmur from Seblat, and the road is pretty bad in some places.  There are a lot of coal trucks, which move slowly and kick up a lot of dirt, so it's not a really relaxing road.  At Lais you turn off the main road to get to Arga Makmur, about 45 minutes.  I don't know if there is any touristy reason to go to Arga Makmur, so you might want to continue on to Bengkulu city if you make the trip. 

Onward to Bengkulu....

Bengkulu is the capital of the province with the same name.  It gets some, but not a whole lot of visitors, which is a shame because it's a neat place.  You can visit the home of Indonesia's first president (also one of the most revered heroes of the independence struggle) Sukarno, where he stayed when he was under house arrest by the Dutch.  There's an old British fort there (which I'll describe in a moment), and there's also some fairly decent surf as it's on the coast.  When I first rolled into town I needed to find a place to stay since there's no park office and all my friends in town stay in boarding houses.  As I was cruising around the town I saw the building in the picture to the right.  I've been around a bit but I rarely see anything that physically stuns me.  The Grand Canyon is one example.  This building is another.  When I drove around the corner and saw it I had to stop.  I don't know if you can grasp the level of weirdness from this picture, but this building is odd.  It turned out to be a hotel, and so naturally I wanted to stay there.  I rolled into the front desk and had the following conversation with the clerk:

Me:  "Man this place is great.  How much is a room?"

Clerk: "400,000 rupiah (about US$42) for a standard room...."

Me:  "400,000 rupiah?!?!?  But this place looks like it was built out of garbage!"

Clerk: "There's another hotel down the road..."

Me:  "Well can I at least go up to the tower and look around?"

The clerk graciously called a bellhop to take me up to the tower, which turned out to be an abandoned restaurant.  Evidently it was a pretty swanky place back in the 70s and 80s, but it's pretty rundown now.  I'm actually surprised that they let me go up there.  I took a bunch of pictures and the bellhop made a pass at me, and so I made haste for the exit.  One of my friends would later tell me that the tower used to rotate, but I have a really hard time believing that. 

After I found more reasonable priced accommodations I went to Fort Marlioborough, which was the center of the British colonial government from 1714 to 1741.  Though the British were the first colonial power in Bengkulu, they would later trade this colony to the Dutch for Singapore and Malacca in Malaysia.  The fort is quite nice and the government has done a good job of maintaining it and putting up interpretive materials.  I paid the 2,500 rupiah (about 27 cents) to go in and was greeted by a very enthusiastic young lady who turned out to be a student at one of the local practical high schools.  She was studying to be a tour guide, and wanted to practice with me.  I was really impressed with her knowledge of the history of the fort and had a good time overall.  It definitely is worth a visit.

My friend Yanti from the elephant camp was also in Bengkulu, where she is officially based, to take care of a tiger that had been caught in a trap.   She invited me over to the Bureau of Natural Resources to see the creature.  When we went to the holding area outside the back of the building the tiger saw me and immediately unleashed a roar that made my hair stand on end.  My tiger expert friend in Sungai Penuh had described the roar of the Sumatran tiger to me in the past, but you really have to experience it to understand it.  From three meters away I was immediately as scared as I've ever been in my life.  Then the tiger focused its gaze on me and I saw death in her eyes.  I hope to God that I never run into one of these in the forest.  This particular tiger will never be returned to the wild, as Yanti had to remove eight of her toes.  She'll probably be sent to the Taman Safari zoo in Bogor on Java, where they have several dozen tigers that have been caught in traps. 

After meeting with a couple of NGO folks and a reporter for the national news service I headed out for Curup, which I'll describe in the next post.   

The Journey South (Part 1)

This past week I have been travelling to parts south of my temporary home in Kerinci, Sumatra as part of my research about the "political ecology" of Kerinci Seblat National Park.  My goal is to visit a number of villages bordering directly on the park, meet with district planning officials and headmen, talk with folks from local non-governmental organizations and the press, and just generally see what's going on around the park.  So far my trip has taken me through parts of three provinces (Jambi, West Sumatra, and Bengkulu) and four districts (Kerinci, Pesisir Selatan, Mukomuko, and Bengkulu Utara).  Though it's possible to get around Sumatra on mini-buses, it's laborious inconvenient (especially when you try to get to remote villages), and uncomfortable, so I decided to make the long trip on my motorcycle.  Over the next 3-4 posts I'll describe some of the things I've seen and provide information about how to make your own motorcycle excursion around this part of the massive island. 

Longsor Alley

A landslide.  Guy in lower right for scale.

I set out on the first leg of my journey last Friday morning, aiming to reach the home of my friend Barlian in Sungai Ipuh, Mukomuko.  The first stretch of road takes you out of Kerinci Valley and over one arm of the Bukit Barisan mountains into Pesisir Selatan district in West Sumatra province.  This road through the hills is one of three access routes (the "Bukit Tapan" road) to Kerinci Valley, but it's the least used because of the condition of the road.  Though I've mentioned this in previous posts, when roads are cut through the mountains here the public works department generally doesn't approach the task in a way that will minimize ecological impacts and ensure that the road continues to function into the future.  In other words, mountain roads are crummy.  They have very steep cuts into the hills, and since it's very rainy here landslides (longsor) are a frequent occurrence.  When you cruise over the Bukit Tapan road, you can see the scars of at least a dozen landslides, which occur about once a year.  Smaller rock falls are quite common along this route.  This is a pretty tricky stretch of road because of the condition, but it passes through the park and you can see some nice vistas and good primary forest.  Along the way you'll pass trucks inching their way up the road; honk briefly to say hello.  Normally you can have a short conversation as you pass:

Driver: "Aiyoooooooooooooooooo...."

Me:  "He-eeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy..."

When you come out of the park you'll be in West Sumatra district; you don't have to see the sign to know because the road goes from gravel to beautiful blacktop.  Soon you'll enter Sako valley, a 15km finger of land bordered by the park following a beautiful river.  Sako valley is one of my favorite places on Sumatra.  It's quiet, cool, and the scenery reminds me of mountain streams in Colorado and Arkansas.  I always stop here at my friend Jon's restaurant to eat some dendeng batok (grilled strip steak) and get the latest news on the park.  A few miles down the road I generally stop in a coffee stall to play chess and drink tea with some local farmers, most of whom know me by now.  After a short drive through this idyllic setting you come to Tapan.

See if you can guess how many kids there are in the back of this truck.  Answer is in the notes below.

Road condition:

This leg of the journey is about 40 kilometers, but it takes two hours, including the 18 kilometer stretch from Jon's place to Tapan, where you can average 50-60 kph.  That ought to give you an idea of the condition of the road through the hills.  It's definitely worth the trip, but don't get in a big hurry through the mountains and avoid the road in heavy rain. 

The Guest of Honor....

Mobil internet truck in Mukomuko

The next stretch of my trip was from Tapan to Penarik, a small town about 35km south of Mukomuko city in Mukomuko district, Bengkulu Province.  Once you head south of Tapan the road is very nice, and you can cruise along the coast at a pretty good clip.  There's even a section along Keith's Beach (see below) where you can top out your bike if you're so inclined.  With a stop at another friend's coffee shop, this stretch takes around 3 hours.  At Penarik I turned off the main road to head for Sungai Ipuh, where my friend lives.  In Bengkulu there is one good road....the one that runs from Tapan to the south.  If you have to leave this road and head towards the interior, you should prepare your rear end ahead of time because it's a bumpy road.  The road from Penarik to Sungai Ipuh is about 15 kilometers, but it takes 30-45 minutes in good weather.

When I finally pulled in to Sungai Ipuh my friend Barlian and his family greeted me warmly,  After coffee Barlian said "You're in luck! There's a wedding ceremony tonight!  We can go if you like!"  Although I was looking forward to compiling my notes, this is the type of invitation you can't turn down.  The problem is, I hate Indonesian weddings because when a foreigner goes to a wedding he/she immediately becomes the center of attention, and that's uncomfortable for me.  Generally a wedding involves sitting around for 3-4 hours while everyone stares at you, and you have to answer the same basic questions several dozen times.  Village weddings are worse in this way because most villages rarely if ever have foreign visitors.  Village weddings are more interesting than town weddings, though, because entertainment at the latter generally consists of singing the same canon of karaoke songs at a volume that would rival the Krakatoa explosion.  Village weddings are also usually more traditional, whereas town weddings are all the same. 

Villagers don't understand why you wouldn't want to go to a wedding, because they are pretty much by definition community-oriented folks.  But to do fieldwork by yourself for long periods of time it helps to be something of a loner who doesn't mind, or even enjoys spending lots of time in isolation.  I am like this, and I guess one of the "weaknesses" of my personality is that I like to have absolute control over my timetable, because it enables me to get done what I need to get done and then relax in the way I like to relax.  Being at a wedding to me is a kind of work because of the type of interaction it entails.  I used to think about all the other stuff I could be doing rather than sitting around for hours on end, but I've learned to tell myself "relax bro.  You're going to get your work done.  Just relax".  So even if you don't want to be there, the important thing is to look like you are having a good time and appreciate the fact that you are the guest of honor.  There were dancers and a traditional band at this wedding (which went on and on), and some of the music was actually pretty good, like the song in the movie clip below, which I really liked.  The audio doesn't come out too well but this tune was pretty hypnotic.

Road Condition:

As I mentioned this road is really nice blacktop and there aren't any real hazards other than the traffic, which isn't too bad.  But the road in places is quite winding, and on one curve I slowed down to about 20 kph only to find waiting for me athwart the road a cobra snake, who came a snap-snap-snappin' at me like I was the eternal enemy of all serpentdom.  The son-of-a-bitch almost got me too. However other than that, the drive is enjoyable, passing through miles and miles of oil palm plantations with occasional views of the Indian Ocean.  There are some hills, but it is pretty smooth, and I was told by several people that the route is enjoyed by bicycle tourists from abroad.  There's a little warung along the way on the mauka side next to some oil palms that serves great mie rebus if you can find it, and you can also stop at one of the huts by an ocean inlet near the Mukomuko-Bengkulu Utara border to enjoy a coffee and the sea breeze.

Surf Mukomuko...

I mentioned this in a previous post as well, but due to coastal erosion thought by many to be caused by large-scale oil palm cultivation, Mukomuko has some great beaches.  There's one that you pass that stretches for several kilometers where the waves break smoothly and cleanly.  Every time I drive past this stretch I almost cry because the waves are perfect for surfing.  There are dozens of spots along this stretch, and so you could surf all day without anyone getting in your way.  It's all sand too, so there are spots that would be suitable for beginners.  The wind, at least when I've been there doesn't blow too hard and so it's pretty glassy, and it seems to come up best in the morning.  I've seen beautiful and consistent 7-foot faces at one spot, and the wave breaks to the right and left and just keeps going.  I've never seen anyone surfing there, but I think that's because it's out of the way.  I didn't bring a board with me since I live in the interior and I haven't had time to get one in Padang, so I haven't had the opportunity to paddle out and name the breaks, but I have taking the liberty to christen the whole stretch "Keith's Beach".  It's about a 20-minute ride south of Mukomuko city, which has a small airfield with 2-3 flights per week, so you could get there fairly easily.  If you want to drive down from Padang, it's probably around 6 hours.  So I hereby invite all the surfers of the world to come surf my beach.  You won't be disappointed.

On Monday morning my friend and I went up to Mukomuko city to see the district headman, but he was out of the office, and no one knew where he was or when he would get back (2).  We also visited the regional planning office, but there was no one there to answer our questions or provide us with the district spatial plan, so I left empty handed and disappointed.  But that's how it goes.  After spending a couple of days with my friend in Sungai Ipuh I got back on my bike and headed south to see another friend, who runs an elephant camp in Bengkulu Utara district.  I'll describe my time there in the next post. 

Notes

(1)  48

(2)  I suspect he was off doing a "studi banding" someplace. 

The "Floating Mass" and the "Aspirations of Society"

Indonesia, with a population of 240 million people, is one of the largest democracies in the world.  It's also one of the world's youngest democracy; real contested elections only began in 1999 after the fall of longtime dictator Suharto, who used sham elections and ineffectual political parties to create a facade of democracy during his three-decade rule.  Now Indonesia has direct elections for all officials from the president on down to the heads of villages as well as direct elections of members of the national, provincial, and district assemblies.  Elections are hotly contested here and dozens of political parties have emerged over the past decade.  Democracy is blossoming, but there have been bumps in the road and the country still faces some obstacles to the development of a truly functioning representative government.  In the post I'm going to try out an idea I had the other night to put one of these obstacles into historical perspective. 

Massa Mengambang....

Indonesia declared independence from the Dutch in 1945 (1), and after a 4-year war it was recognized as a sovereign and independent country.  In the early to mid-1950s Indonesia had a democratic government, but political turmoil and regional rebellions led the country's first president, Sukarno, to suspend most democratic institutions and institute "guided democracy".  In 1965 Sukarno was deposed amidst a failed coup attempt, and Suharto, a general, took over.  Suharto ruled the country from 1966 until 1998.  During the first few years of his reign he focused on solidifying his hold on power and the development of a structure that would enable him to dominate the country for more than three decades.  From this point on the regime's political vehicle would be GOLKAR (Golongan Karya), an association of "functional groups" which began as a federation of non-government organizations (NGOs).  One of Suharto's associates, Ali Murtopo, reorganized GOLKAR into a political party, though the regime and GOLKAR always maintained that the body was not political.  Rather than getting mired in counterproductive political squabbling, GOLKAR and Suharto would focus on economic development and modernization.  Part of this philosophy was the notion of the people as a "floating mass" with no political role.  The floating mass doctrine banned the remaining parties from operating at the village level, which made them powerless to organize at the local level Instead the paternalistic government would carry out the will of the people.  In 1971 there was a general election for parliament in which GOLKAR triumphed over nine other political parties, but the election is universally accepted to have been rigged.  The victory gave GOLKAR the "mandate" and authority to re-elect Suharto as president in 1973.  By this time the fate of Indonesia's troubled "democracy" was sealed; in 1974 Suharto eliminated most political parties with the remaining parties serving as powerless puppets. 

Suharto 1993 picture from Wikipedia

During the Suharto years there were elections, but GOLKAR always prevailed.  The lack of real political contestation allowed the Suharto regime to impose its will on the Indonesian archipelago.  The New Order regime used repression to silence most opposition, and freedoms of expression, including the press were limited.  Though there were improvements in health, education, and economic development, these were accompanied by a high level of institutionalized corruption which still haunts the country.  The New Order was obsessed with the notions of "development" and "modernization" and devoted significant resources to megaprojects, mostly on the island of Java (2).  Many of these large development projects were less than successful, and a number of them resulted in environmental devastation.  The Indonesian idiom proyek mercusor ("lighthouse project") is used to describe these projects which were constructed more to illustrate the prestige of the regime rather than for the advancement of the country.

"Aspirasi Masyarakat"

"Aspirasi masyarakat" means "the aspirations of the people".  Basically it refers to the will of the citizenry in general; it's a general, ambiguous phrase that emphasizes the fact that the government should serve the people.  It is not something that can be measured or quantified, but is frequently used by candidates for office during their campaigns.  It also appears in formal legal documents like laws and regulations.  For example, we can see the principle of "aspirasi masyarakat" codified as the first criteria for the creation of new districts in government regulation 129/2000 (Peraturan Pemerintah 129/2000 Tentan Persyaratan Pembentukan dan Kriteria Pemekaran, Penghapusan dan Penggabungan Daerah):

Regional autonomy is an authority of the autonomous region to regulate and maintain the priorities of local society according to their own initiative based on the aspirations of society consistent with laws and regulations (3) 

We see another example in the first line of the legislation (Law 25/2008; UU25/2008 Tentang Pembentukan Kota Sungai Penuh di Provinsi Jambi) that created the administrative municipality of Sungai Penuh (where I live), split from its "mother district" of Kerinci:

Such that to spur development and progress in Jambi Province and especially Kerinci district and considering the presence of a growing aspiration within society, the must be an increase in the organization of government, implementation, development, and public service in order to hasten the realization of the prosperity of the people.... (4)


The aspirasi masyarakat discourse has long bothered me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on a specific reason why.  Last night though something clicked.  "Aspirasi masyarakat" is very similar to the "floating mass" in that it depoliticizes certain issues, placing them beyond the reach of contestation and placing them within an untouchable realm of universal goals or aims.  What this does is creates the impression that "society" is a homogenous block with easily identifiable goals.  Grad school types refer to this as "essentialization", which basically means simplifying a "group" of people or a complex concept with a few general or stereotypical words or phrases.  As you might imagine this is really useful to authoritarian regimes because it makes it easy for them to portray themselves as the guardians of the people while positioning opponents as "enemies of the people".  On the other hand it is contrary to the notion of representative democracy, which is characterized by pluralism and a multiplicity of ideas and opinions.  Indeed debate and the exchange of ideas is considered by most to be one of the most positive aspects of democracy because it enables "society" to grow.

It occurred to me that "aspirasi masyarakat" might be considered a holdover from the Suharto years.  This has some important ramifications for governance in Indonesia.

Practical Implications

During the time I've spent here doing my PhD dissertation research, I've noticed that the "aspirasi masyarakat" discourse features prominently in two issues that interest me: 1) administrative proliferation and 2) proposed road projects through Kerinci Seblat National Park.  I've discussed both of these issues in previous posts, but there seems to be one common feature in both debates about creating new districts and building roads through the park.  In both of these instances it turns out that there are few practical reasons to institute the policy (creating a new district or building a road through the park), and so "aspirasi masyarakat" is invoked by certain powerful interests that stand to gain from the "project".  But I think this is really, really bad for public policy.

Chart is from a UNDP report on administrative proliferation
in Indonesia

When Suharto was deposed, Indonesia pretty much did a 180-degree turn away from authoritarianism and decentralized most political and administrative power to the (then) nearly 300 districts and administrative municipalities in the country (5).  One important law that was passed (129/2000 which I quoted above) allowed for the creation of new districts and provinces for a number of reasons, among them to fulfill the "aspirations of the people", but also to improve participation in government and to increase economic development.  Administrative proliferation, known in Indonesian as pemekaran daerah spun out of control, and over the course of about 10 years several new provinces and over a hundred new districts and municipalities were formed.  My own research here (as well as that of other scholars in other places) shows that the main motivations for creating new administrative entities are to increase the number of civil servants (new districts need new mayors, planners, teachers, etc) and to increase the amount of money received from the federal government in the form of grants (6).  In addition, although the law requires studies to be done to support the new administrative unit, these studies don't seem to have much impact on the process.  An example of this is the study done when the Sungai Penuh-Kerinci split was still in the planning stages; although the study found that the area wasn't ready for such a split it happened anyway.  When you talk to people on the street about proposed new districts, most of them are in favor of it.  But what really happens is that it fuels corruption, because the many of the new civil servant positions are sold, and increases the total number of people employed by the government, which is usually considered a bad thing.  In most of the new districts the long-term economic outlooks are pretty bad.  Thus from the standpoint of public policy, in many cases pemekaran is bad.

Another example is roads through the park.  National parks are generally protected by federal or national law (hence the name), and in most cases it is difficult if not impossible for lower-level governments (state, province, county, parish, etc) to bypass the national law.  Roads in particular are very contentious and draw criticism from a number of quarters.  For example, in the US roads through parks can be challenged by th 1964 Wilderness Act, the 1969 National Environmental Policy Act, the 1970 Clean Air Act, the 1972 Clean Water Act, and the 1973 Endangered Species Act.  In fact, in order to even propose a road through a park the interested government has to complete years and years of studies, including feasibility assessments and environmental impact statements.  For a good example you can google the North Shore Road through Great Smoky Mountains National Park in the US.  

Some of the 33 currently proposed roads that would
cut through the park

Instead here at Kerinci Seblat National Park district governments propose roads without providing data to support the project.  Rather they invoke the "aspirasi masyarakat" doctrine.  Opposition to the roads comes from two sources: 1) a small number of conservationists and environmentalists, who bring up the ecological damage the roads would cause, and the park, and 2) the park itself, which makes the legal argument that the roads are illegal and hence cannot be built.  The district governments then vilify the park as an obstacle to development, which is reflected in the press (7).  Though local conservation NGOs engage in some advocacy and pubic outreach, for the most part there is no counter to this one-sided portrayal of the issue, and so in the eyes of the majority of people the park is viewed as an enemy hamstringing local development. 

I say this represents a failing of public policy because environmental impact assessments, cost/benefit analyses, and other types of studies are essential in order to ensure that the benefits of a project outweigh the costs, both in terms of expenditure of public monies and damage to the environment.  In addition, these types of studies also help to determine whether the project is actually merited and is a legitimate expenditure of public funds.  This is an essential part of a functioning democracy, but it seems to be lacking here.  From the point of view of the park, this weakness opens another potential point of attack against the roads: that the government has not done its due diligence to ensure that "society's" money isn't spent haphazardly or on useless projects like those that were common during the Suharto years.  I know of at least one case in which the park is being scapegoated for preventing a road being built, when in fact even before the park was established the same road was rejected by the provincial government because it would cost too much to build it.  

Thus the roads through the park are not just a bad idea because of the environmental havoc they would wreak, but because they represent a deviation from one of the core missions of a democratic government. My basic point is that while "aspirasi masyarakat" is an appropriate guiding principle for government, but it should not be a primary criteria for policy formation, because it leads to the ignoring of other, very important considerations.  This lack of logic needs to be challenged so that Indonesia's new democracy can continue to develop and grow.  

Notes

(1) Indonesia's national day, August 17, commemorates this initial declaration.

(2)  Java is home to the majority of Indonesia's population.  It is the most densely populated island and is the homeland of both Suharto and Sukarno.  The national capital, Jakarta, is located on Java.

 (3)  "Otonomi Daerah adalah kewenangan Daerah Otonomi untuk mengatur dan mengurus kepentingan masyarakat setempat menurut prakarsa sendiri berdasarkan aspirasi masyarakat sesuai dengan peraturan-perundangan..."

(4) "...bahwa untuk memacu perkembangan dan kemajuan Provinsi Jambi pada umumnya dan Kabupaten Kerinci pada khusunya serta adanya aspirasi yang berkembang dalam masyarakat, perlu dilakukan peningkatan penyelenggaraan pemerintahan, pelaksanaan pembangunan, dan pelayanan publik guna mempercepat terwujudnya kesejahteraan masyarakat"

(5)  Now there are nearly 500.

(6)  All districts, provinces, and administrative municipalities receive a couple of big grants from the central government each year.  If you take one district and turn it into two, you are dramatically increasing the amount of funds you get from the central government.

(7)  Though the press in Indonesia is "free", most local and a significant number of regional reporters lack training in journalism.  Moreover it is widely accepted that reporters accept bribes for favorable coverage on political issues.

Bangun Rejo Village: The Posterchild for Conservation?

Bangun Rejo is a jorong (1) in the Sangir subdistrict in Solok Selatan district, West Sumatra province.  It's located about two hours to the north of Sungai Penuh, where I live.  I went there this week because I've heard a great deal about the village; it is trumpeted as a success story in village conservation and is held up as a shining example of cooperation between Kerinci Seblat National Park and local people.  The village has received awards at the district and provincial level for their efforts to protect the environment, and they have received national recognition for their "greenness".  One newspaper account describes the village thusly: "Dense forest blankets the village.  One is immersed in the songs of animals from the direction of the forest; visitors begin to feel a sense of peace.  The whine of the chainsaw is not to be heard as in other areas that border the forest" (2).  I wanted to find out what makes Bangun Rejo different from all the other villages I've visited; what lessons could be learned here and applied elsewhere to improve relations between the park and villagers.  My friend Hendri, who heads the small environmental NGO Winalsa in Solok Selatan, agreed to accompany me to the village. 

About Bangun Rejo

As I mentioned, Bangun Rejo is known here as the "green village" due to an apparent conservation ethic possessed by the villagers there.  They don't cut down trees, they don't encroach into the park, they don't hunt illegally, and they even patrol the park's borders voluntarily.  Recently the citizens of Bangun Rejo evicted 16 families from Kerinci district that had moved into the park to clear land for farming.  Much of this success is due to the efforts of the jorong head, Bejo Suyono.  "Thanks to God all of us here are aware and understand how important forests are for the sustainability of the environment and humanity in general," says Pak Suyono.  The folks at the park are very proud of Bangun Rejo and point to the "success" there as an example of what could be in other villages; one park staffer told me that "we want to make Bangun Rejo a beacon of conservation in West Sumatra". 

But there is another side to the story.  Bangun Rejo is one of more than 300 villages that share a border with the immense Kerinci Seblat National Park.  Between 1997 and 2001 it was also one of 76 villages to receive aid from the World Bank and WWF via a large integrated conservation and development project (ICDP).  The goal of the village development component of the ICDP (which I've discussed in previous posts) was to provide alternative livelihoods to residents of border villages to reduce dependency on the forests in the park.  Unfortunately, as noble and ambitious as the giant project was, it had little impact in most areas.  My friends in NGOs argue that one success story out of 76 ICDP villages and hundreds of bordering villages overall is nothing to be proud of.  At the same time, Bangun Rejo is a favorite destination for aid and development projects, and so there might be a risk of neglecting other places with more severe problems for the sake of glorifying the dramatic example of success.  

Jorong headman Bejo Suyono in blue.

I talked to the head of the jorong and the chairman of the loan association about the relationship between the village and the park, as well as the villagers' ideas on conservation.  They told me that everyone in the village understands the ecological importance of the park, especially for farmers.  They told me that there used to be shifting cultivation in the park area (which existed even before the park was established), but when the ICDP was implemented the village stopped the shifting cultivation and used some of the funds to train people in settled agriculture outside the park, as well as to provide start-up capital for small-scale businesses.  The interesting thing about the loan association, which was part of the ICDP, is that it still exists today, while many of the other projects from the ICDP in the various villages have long since ended, often with poor results.  Loans of up to 2.5 million rupiah (about US$270) for a period of a year, with interest starting at 1.5% and then declining to .8%.  Applications are screened by a committee, which selects the most worthy or feasible projects.  Though they started with 125 million rupiah (US$15,800), the kitty has grown to 400 million rupiah (US$42,100).  After the ICDP ended the villagers continued and expanded the program on their own without any outside help.  They also told me that the village is currently receiving aid from other government bodies as well due to their success in promoting conservation.  I asked if other villagers ever get jealous because of all the attention Bangun Rejo receives, and they told me that "yes, indeed they are jealous.  But if they conserve the forest and protect the park like we do they will get help as well".  The jorong head invited us to visit the "green fence", a row of fast-growing surian trees the villagers are planting to mark the boundary between cultivated land and forest area.

Into the Field....

The next day my friends from Winalsa and I went past the village in the direction of the park, riding over a difficult rock road for several kilometers.  Though the head of the jorong was supposed to meet us, he had some sort of emergency, so we were on our own.  We came to the border of the park and the road forked.  We later learned that we took a wrong turn (go right to get to the "green fence") and soon ended up in the middle of acres and acres of coffee gardens.  We checked our gps units and my field map and found that all of the cultivation is well within the boundaries of the park.  We walked around a bit and met a farmer tending his garden.  I asked him if we were indeed in the park and said that according to his understanding, we were not.  We talked to him for a while about coffee farming and he told us about the civets that sometimes visit his land (TK).  Then the head of the jorong found us and escorted us out of the cultivated area.  I asked him about the crops and he confirmed that they are indeed in the park, but they have an "agreement" with the park.  On the way out I noticed some palm oil seedlings.  I was really surprised because I didn't know palm oil palms could grow this high, but also because the existence of the seedlings represents an investment on the part of the villagers, since they only start to bear fruit after several years (3).  He told me that the seedlings are an experiment, and if they do well the villagers will plant more.  

Winalsa member Iwan Abu with palm oil
palm seedling.  Around the seedling you can
see upland dry rice.  

On my way back to Sungai Penuh I stopped at the nearby satellite office for the park.  I'd been there before and know the folks working there; in fact there is one talented young staffer there that is currently doing her thesis research in Bangun Rejo.  I wanted to ask for clarification about the status of the cultivation inside the park.  After I met my friends I was greeted by a forest policemen who I'd never seen before.  He first chewed me out because I didn't report to the regional police, which foreigners are supposed to do.  I normally try to avoid this because I consider it to be a violation of human rights (4).  Then he threatened to arrest me if I went into the park again without his permission, despite the fact that I've gone through a lengthy process of obtaining various permissions and have an official letter from the Ministry of Forestry allowing me to enter the park whenever I want.  He then demanded to see all the pictures I'd taken.  After all of this power-trip business, which amused and annoyed me at the same time, he answered my questions (5).  It turns out that the park is planning to "re-green" the cultivated area next year, and according to my new "friend" the people have been made aware of this and given a choice: either they remove their crops or the park will.  He said that the people are aware and are on board with this plan, but the fact that they've just planted a bunch of palm oil seedlings indicates to me that the local folks have a different understanding of what is going to happen in the future.  There is definitely something afoot in Bangun Rejo.

All in all the trip was enlightening but disappointing at the same time.  I learned a great deal about the "real story" in Bangun Rejo.  However, I went in expecting to see a shining example of textbook village conservation, which is probably a myth here.  In my research I see so many problems and difficulties that I was really looking forward to seeing something that would give me hope for the future of the park.  But the fact that the "poster child" for village conservation has many of the same intractable problems of the other villages around the park speaks a lot to the problems facing national park-based conservation on Sumatra.  

A Little Lagniappe...

It's been a week since I had my appendix removed and I can honestly say that I feel 100% better.  My mood has improved and I have more energy.  For the 2-3 months before the surgery I was feeling less than myself; I was tired a lot and just felt a general lethargy, but I thought maybe it was because I've been here too long.  Now I'm convinced that during that time I was suffering from an internal infection, and now that the source is gone I feel like a new man.  I asked the doctor about this, and he said it was very possible.  I also asked my doctor (and 2 other doctors I met in the hospital) about the veracity of the notion that chili seeds cause appendicitis, and they said that this is just a myth.  

Lastly I stumbled upon the scene shown in the video below on the way back from Bangun Rejo.  What you see is a homemade sled contraption loaded with logs heading down the road in the direction of Padang Aro. This is very near the park, but not inside it, so I don't know the source of the wood.  The method of transport interested me though.  I'd seen this sled in operation on a previous visit but didn't think to make a video.  The driver, which you can't see, has sections cut from two tires attached to his feet ("Ho Chi Minh sandals") which he uses as brakes.   

Notes

(1)  Jorong is a traditional Minangkabau administrative division roughly equivalent to the desa or "village" found in most other parts of Indonesia.  In the 1970s the authoritarian Suharto regime imposed the desa system, which originates on Java, on all of the islands of Indonesia, erasing existing indigenous systems of administration.  After the fall of Suharto the provincial government of West Sumatra (Sumatra Barat), which is the Minang heartland, reinstated the jorong system. 

(2)  "Hutan belantara seperti menyelemuti desa itu.  Di selingi kicauan fauna dari arah hutan, pengunjung akan merasa semakin damai.  Tak ada suara mesin sinso yang menderu-deru, seperti di kawasan lain yang juga bertetangga dengan hutan".

(3)  Most of the time when people in low-lying coastal areas plant oil palms, they use seedlings that have already grown in a nursery for a year or so, which reduces the time they have to wait to start harvesting.  These trees look to be planted not from starter seedlings but from seeds themselves.  

(4)  See articles 7, 9, 12, and 13 of the UN's Universal Declaration of Human Rights.  Also consider the concept of national treatment, a fundamental tenet of international law that goes all the way back to Kant.  In addition, it's a really stupid rule.  Imagine if the US government required foreign visitors to visit the sheriff's office every time they entered a different county.  Plus once you visit the district police and get your letter of recognition (which takes time depending on the district) you get sent to another office called KESBANGPOLINMAS where you have to receive another letter.

(5)  I've heard villagers complain about the excessive arrogance of certain park rangers, but this is the first time I'd experienced it directly.  On the other hand, I've met with at least 50 TNKS staffers and have worked closely with some amongst these and have found their dedication, professionalism, and competence to be superlative.  

An Errand to Kota Gede...

Kota Gede, which means "big city" or "great city" in Indonesian (and Javanese), is a quarter of Jogjakarta most widely known now as the center of the city's famous silver industry.  Kota Gede, which existed as a town unto itself until the bustling city of Jogja expanded and absorbed it in the latter half of the 20th century, was also the first capital of the second Mataram kingdom of Java that thrived between the late-16th and mid-18th centuries.  Kota Gede makes a nice excursion and is one of the many places you can visit when you travel to Jogjakarta.  I recently went on an errand to visit some of the silversmiths in the district to see about getting my recently-removed appendix silver-plated.  Unfortunately I couldn't find anyone willing to take on the job; a real pity because I was really looking forward to owning what would probably be the world's only silver-plated appendix.  I ended up making the gut-wrenching (tee-hee) decision to deep-six my appendix before heading to the airport to catch the plane back to Sumatra, because I knew it would be nothing but trouble trying to explain why I had a human organ in my backpack in the unlikely (but possible) event someone questioned me at the airport.

Kota Gede's History

In the 16th century the most of the island of Java was ruled by the Sultanate of Pajang, a short-lived kingdom established by Hadiwijaya after the destruction of the Sultanate of Demak, which itself arose out of the disintegration of the Majapahit Empire in the 15th century.  Hadiwijaya claimed direct descent from both Majapahit and Demak, and his claim to power was based on this royal lineage.  Sultan Hadiwijaya gave a forest area called Mentaik (located near the center of power of the old Mataram kingdom) to a vassal named Ki Gede Pemanahan for service to the kingdom, and so Ki Gede Pemanahan moved to the forest area and established a village, which would later be called "Kota Gede".  After Ki Gede Pemanahan died his son, Senopati Ingalaga (later known as Panembahan Senopati or Ngabei Loring Pasar) took over.  Panembahan Senopati is credited with founding the "new" Mataram kingdom and began building a palace or "Keraton" around 1575 and rebelling against Pajang.  Panembahan Senopati claimed genealogical descent from the original Mataram rulers, who built the magnificent monuments at Prambanan and Borobudur (1).

Map of Mataram Sultanate from Wikipedia

Panembahan Senopati expanded the area of Mataram before he died in 1601.  During his reign he built the Keraton, the central market (which still functions today) and the royal graveyard.  His successors then conquered most of Java with the exception of Banten and Batavia.  One of the later rulers, Sultan Agung (a hero in Javanese and Indonesian history), began building the Great Mosque (Masjid Agung), which is now the oldest mosque in Jogja.  It was later upgraded and expanded by Paku Buwono, the sultan of Surakarta.  In 1680 Kota Gede was ransacked by an army from Madura, and so the center of power was moved.  Then in the 18th century the Mataram rulers waged war against the Dutch, who were attempting to consolidate their grip on Java.  Later the Sultanate of Mataram was split into the Sultanate of Surakarta and the Sultanate of Jogjakarta.

Things to See in Kota Gede

Kota Gede is located about 5 kilometers southeast of the Kraton in central Jogja.  The best way to get there is probably by taxi, but you can also take a becak (bicycle rickshaw) or andong (horse cart).  You can also walk, which will take 1.5-2 hours, but it's a good idea to have a map.  Most people go there to buy silver and see the craftsmen at work, which is worth the trip.  A couple of the larger shops open their workshops and have guided tours, so you can get an idea at the incredible skill of the craftsmen and women that create the intricate filigree jewelry and decorative pieces the place is known for.  The silver shops are mostly family-owned and in many cases they have been handed down through several generations.  In addition much of the work is true cottage industry, meaning that shop owners farm out work to artisans in Kota Gede, which they produce in their own homes.  It's definitely worth the trip.  If you want to buy something you can dicker with the salespeople.  They will do custom work (though they won't silver-plate a body part) and they also do a lot of stuff for export to big jewelry companies.  But the silver industry, which started to develop in earnest in the 1930s, is only part of the attraction of Kota Gede (2).

 

It's also nice to walk around the neighborhoods (kampungs) in the district.  This is where most of the craftpeople live, and there are a lot of neat buildings constructed in the traditional Javanese style (joglo).  Unfortunately a catastrophic earthquake in May 2006 hit Kota Gede quite hard, severely damaging or destroying more than half (88 of approximately 170) of the traditional houses.  Reconstruction has been a problem because a lot of the residence lack the money to restore their houses (3), and many folks have even sold their entire houses to antique dealers, who disassemble and move the structures out of the district.  Complicating this problem is the fact that government aid to the earthquake victims wasn't really coordinated and at the time there was no coherent preservation plan in place.  Out of necessity business owners rebuilt quickly because they needed a source of income.  On the positive side this has awakened people and the government to the need to protect the heritage of the area, and in 2011 the government of Jogja declared Kota Gede a historical preserve.  They have made some admirable efforts to clean up the area and have installed a number of very informative signs with historical and cultural notes, which makes walking around the area much more interesting.

Aside from the general atmosphere, the main historical attractions in the area are the remains of the old Kraton, Masjid Agung, and the royal cemetery (4).  The palace is near the market (Pasar Gede), which is most active on Legi, one of the five days of the Javanese week.  You can go to the Kraton and mosque on your own schedule, but the cemetery is only open to visitors at certain times (at the time of writing Sunday, Monday, Thursday and Friday between 8am and 4pm, but I think this is subject to change).  You have to wear traditional Javanese clothes to enter, but they can be borrowed at the entrance.  You also are not allowed to take pictures.  You can see hundreds of tombs there, including the tomb of Ki Ageng Mangir, Panembahan's treacherous son-in-law.  Since Ki Ageng Mangir betrayed the Sultan he is only half-way buried in the cemetery.

There are also some neat colonial buildings since Kota Gede was a center of Dutch administration.  A couple of these have been turned into up-scalish restaurants, and they both have good food and excellent atmosphere.  Omah Dhuwur (Javanese for high house) has a really nice garden and outside seating, but every time I've been there they have been out of what I wanted to eat.  When I went in there the other day they had an all you can eat buffet for 60,000 rupiah, but I didn't partake.  The other place, Sekar Kedhaton (flower of the Palace in Javanese) has indoor seating and is quite nice.  It's close by Omah Dhuwur and is a nice place to take a break from the heat.

Notes

(1)  I call Panembahan Senopati's kingdom "new" Mataram to keep it from being confused with "old" Mataram, a Hindu-Buddhist kingdom founded around the middle of the 8th century.  I wrote a little about "old" Mataram in a previous post.  Around the 10th century the center of Mataram power moved to east Java for unknown reasons (maybe a catastrophic eruption of Merapi volcano).  The old kingdom was neglected, and if my understanding is correct, most of the area was reclaimed by the forest which became known as Mentaik.  "New" Mataram was an Islamic sultanate, though the Hindu-Buddhist influence is very clear.  The "new" Mataram kingdom is also the ancestor of the current sultans of Surakarta (Solo) and Jogjakarta.

(2)  This refers to the commercial silver industry.  But the tradition of craftsmanship has been there since the beginning of Mataram, when Panembahan Senopati assembled artisans and put them to work making royal decorations and jewelry.

(3)  Though in many cases the intent and desire seems to be there, it is evidently really expensive to build a joglo in the traditional way.

(4)  After the center of power moved away from Kota Gede the royal family the cemetery was replaced by the royal cemetery at Imogiri, which is outside Jogja.  Imogiri is supposed to be a neat place to visit too but I've never been there.

Under the Knife

As I mentioned in the last post, I recently was diagnosed with appendicitis, which was something of a surprise to me because after my first episode of pain I didn't have any problems.  Nevertheless, the diagnosis required me to check into Panti Rapih hospital in Jogjakarta for surgery to remove my appendix.  Pretty much on cue after the diagnosis my appendix area started hurting pretty bad, and for the 2 days before the surgery I was in pretty constant discomfort.  So all in all it's a good thing I decided to get it checked out, because from what I hear the next phase after what I experienced is full-on rupture, which is bad news.

As I mentioned in the previous post, Panti Rapih hospital is quite nice.  It's clean, orderly, and efficient, and it runs the way you would expect a hospital to run.  Part of the reason for writing this post is to address concerns of any foreigners googling "Panti Rapih" in consideration of treatment there.  I had a really smooth experience in the two days I was there and would recommend the hospital to anyone, at least for an appendectomy.  My very competent doctor gave me a choice of two procedures: conventional or laparoscopy.  I told him that I wanted the one that would give me the biggest scar; if possible it should look like I'd been cut in half by a cording saw and then stitched back together.  He asked me why and I told him "because chicks dig scars, doc".

I signed up for a second-class room because my insurance requires me to get a semi-private room.  Since it's hot and humid in Jogja I asked for an air-conditioned room, which will cost my insurance company another $10 for two nights.  When I checked in the room I met my roommate, who was from the island of Sumba in Nusa Tenggara Timor.  He had been in the hospital for two weeks and his wife was taking care of him.  During the entire stay we didn't use the air conditioner, because they didn't have it on and I figured there was a reason for that.  I also knew that if I asked for it to be turned on my roommate would tolerate it, but since he was sicker than me I decided to prioritize his comfort.  When it came time to go to sleep I noticed his wife unrolling a mat on the tile floor to sleep on.  I told her that she could sleep on my bed and I'd sleep on the floor, since I'm used to sleeping on the floor on Sumatra.  She refused, though, insisting that I would get sick if I slept on the floor.  But from this point on we were friends and they invited me to come to their village and see the annual horse races, which Sumba is famous for. 

During the night my roommate moaned a lot from pain.  I thought about his wife sleeping on the floor, either out of devotion or to save money on accommodation or a combination of the two, and it made me happy that I've been able to travel around a bit and see the stoic persistence with which about 80% of the world's population deals with difficulties that would seem insurmountable to your typical westerner.  It makes it easier to deal with most problems I encounter.  Later the anesthesiologist came to visit me to talk about options for the surgery.  We decided that it would be best to use a local anesthetic rather than putting my under.  The next morning during the prep he came to talk to me again.

"How is Mister Keet this morning?"

"Well, I've been thinking a lot about my life.  There've been ups and downs.  I've sinned, but I've also done good deeds.  I've seen some wondrous things.  All in all I'm satisfied and am ready to meet my fate."

"What medication are you on?" he asked.

"None", I replied.  "Why do you ask?"

"Because usually when someone starts talking like that it means their dosage is too high.  Either that or they need to visit they psychiatric ward.  Now are you ready for me to stick this big needle in your back?"

"Let's rock and roll."

They wheeled me into the operating theatre and got all the gear ready.  I gave one of the nurses my camera so she could take the pictures you see here.  When I was looking at the pictures she took I noticed she took a full on naked shot of me, which is pretty dirty but in a hot sort of way.  Before the procedure began the doctor checked how I was reacting to the anesthetic.

"How are you doing, Mister Kate?"

"A cold black cloud is comin' down, Doc.  I feel like I'm knockin' on Heaven's door...."

"Huh?"

"There's a light, Doc.....it's calling me.....it's...it's....it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen....."

"I see.  You are funny.  Maybe I give you orchidectomy for free," he responded. 

The culprit.  As you can see it kinda looks like a giant prawn.

The procedure went pretty smoothly and after about an hour in the half in the recovery room they wheeled me back to my room, where I went to sleep for a while.  They said I had to stay in bed for 12 hours after the surgery, and so I set my clock to buzz at escape time and set in on the Philip Caputo novel I bought from the cheap bin at one of Jogja's bookstores.  I was feeling pretty good considering I'd just had part of my insides cut out, and so at 11pm I slung my IV bag over my shoulder and headed out of the ward to the donut shop.  I came back to the room and went to sleep amongst the howls of someone down the hall that seem to be experiencing some pretty excruciating pain. 

My Souvenir  

The next morning I woke up feeling pretty good.  After my breakfast some friends that had heard about me being in the hospital came to see me, which was quite nice because here I was thinking I was all alone in the world.  They brought me some pastries and we chatted for a while until it was time for them to go back to work.  For the rest of the day I took it easy, waiting to be discharged.  At about 4pm they let me go with an appointment to come back for a checkup in a couple of days.  The whole thing, along with the initial consultation and tests, cost right around $700, which will be covered by insurance.  Right now I feel great, and I think it's due to the excellent care at Panti Rapih.  

A Little Lagniappe....

This next picture is one I took just outside the hospital.  It's a sign advertising a circumcision package for Muslim boys.  I thought it interesting because Panti Rapih is a Catholic hospital.  Though I wouldn't exactly call Indonesia a poster child for religious harmony, from all I know about Jogja the people of various faiths get along pretty good here.