A Front Line Forest Defender...

Photo courtesy of Arifin Rahmat

This is my new friend Arifin Rahmat.  Pak Arifin is a forest policeman (POLHUT, polisi hutan) at Sumatra's Kerinci Seblat National Park (1).  I met Pak Arifin at a training session for auxiliary forest rangers here in Sungai Penuh where he taught me and some folks from local communities some of the basics on how to patrol the forest and handle crimes like poaching and illegal logging.    Pak Arifin has worked in and around KSNP since 1990 when he first became an honorary ranger (2).  In 1996 Pak Arifin became a full-time forest policeman posted at the Bukit Tapan resort at KSNP, which is located just outside Sungai Penuh.  After that Pak Arifin was instrumental in setting up the park's innovative Tiger Protection and Conservation Team, which still operates and has experienced a great deal of success in protecting the endangered Sumatran Tiger.  Pak Arifin is also recently received Indonesia's highest award for environmental service, the Kalpataru, which is awarded to around 10 people annually.  Pak Arifin received the award for his dedication to safeguarding and conserving the critically endangered Sumatran tiger.  Pak Arifin graciously afforded me the opportunity to interview him for about two hours during a break in the training.  I wanted to talk to him within the framework of my research, but I also wanted to share his accomplishments and commitment with folks outside Indonesia.

Meeting Pak Arifin

Photo courtesy of Arifin Rahmat

When Pak Arifin entered the room he was decked out in his full dress uniform, which is pretty imposing when your sitting amidst a bunch of villagers.  But one of the first things you notice about him is his easy rapport with his audience.  He immediately had everyone at ease with his warm smile, and within about 3 minutes everyone was hanging on his every word.  Since Pak Arifin has spent years in and around the park, there are only a few of the 400 or so villages bordering the park that he hasn't visited.  As we went around the room introducing ourselves, Pak Arifin related anecdotes about each of the participants villages and asked after the health of people he knows there, though he didn't have any anecdotes about Honolulu.  Throughout his presentation on patrolling tactics he was able to convey technical information in easy-to-access language, and by the end of the day everyone was on the same page.  These interpersonal skills are one of the things that makes a good ranger; many of the residents around the park are lacking in knowledge about the park and its ecological importance, and hence there's a lot of bad feeling towards the park.  A good ranger, besides being able to enforce the rules, is able to "win hearts and minds".

During a coffee break I had a conversation with Pak Arifin.  He told me that he's originally Javanese but he grew up in Lampung on the southern tip of Sumatra.  During his youth he was always interested in nature and enjoyed camping.  He became interested in being a policeman after some POLHUT visited his village.  A boy at the time, he told me that he was fascinated by their uniforms and gear, and so he started talking with them about their job.  As a young adult Pak Arifin wanted to go to school for forestry or law enforcement, but there were no opportunities where he lived so he made his living doing a variety of odd jobs.  Eventually he moved to Sungai Penuh, where Kerinci Seblat National Park was just being established.  At the same time he got involved in a local nature-lovers' group, and when the opportunity to become an honorary ranger came up he seized it.  Eventually after a six-year "internship" he was made an official POLHUT and went to the national police school in Riau to get formal training in policing.

Pak Arifin told me that both of these experiences really helped him develop a personal philosophy that has made him into one of the best rangers in the country.  In the early 1990s the park didn't have many resources (3) and there was a lot of illegal logging and hunting.  At that time facilities were very limited, and when he was posted to Tapan the outpost only had one motorcycle for four policemen.  In addition to infrastructural problems, there were also command-and-control problems which made doing the job difficult.  This taught Pak Arifin the importance of structure, planning, and discipline to make the most of the resources that you have.  Pak Arifin told me that because the park has to make due with around 100 rangers to police an area larger than the state of Connecticut, it is crucial to make sure the rangers are used in the best way possible.

As we talked I was really impressed by Pak Arifin's knowledge and understanding of local conditions.  He sees himself as an instrument of national policy tasked with the responsibility of enforcing the law and protecting the park, but he also understands the perspective of the people living around the park and the difficulties that they face.  We talked about the various villages that we had both visited and compared notes, and he told stories that illustrate different aspects of on-the-ground conservation.  Arifin is always eager to share his knowledge and experience, and seems to really enjoy teaching others.  We also talked about the ceremony in which he was awarded the nation's highest honor for environmental service.  I was interested in the food at the national palace.  "It was okay", Arifin said.  He was more interested in telling me about the excellent work of many of his colleagues, and how the award was less a reflection of his personal performance and more the recognition of a team effort.

Pak Arifin told me that his ambition is apply all that he's learned to help improve conditions in the villages around the park.   Now that he's been a ranger for 22 years he wants to move into local development and create projects that would reduce local pressure on the park.

I asked my friend Debbie Martyr, who has worked with the park's Tiger Protection and Conservation Program since its inception in the 1990s (4), about Pak Arifin, since she'd worked closely with him when he was a member of the team.  She related the following anecdote about Pak Arifin:

Photo courtesy of Arifin Rahmat

Back in 2007 we got a call that a tiger was caught in a gin-trap in Saralunto (a district in West Sumatra province some distance from the park).  I contacted the head of West Sumatra's Office of Natural Resource Management to ask if they needed any help.  He told me that a vet was on the scene and that everything was under control, which relieved me because it was a long way away.  But about 5pm I got another call, and this time he was obviously under a lot of stress.  He told us that the anesthetic didn't work and that the tiger was very aggressive and they could use some assistance.  So me, Arifin and [another tiger team member] drove up there, arriving at about 3am.  When we got there the head of the office was waiting for us, and together we hiked about 4 kilometers to the site.  The vet there was young and enthusiastic, but he'd never faced a situation like this before, so I contacted some vet friends in other countries, rousing them out of bed.  I rattled off the list of unpronouceable and unspellable names of drugs we had on hand and they gave me a recipe to tranquilize the tiger.  After the vet mixed up the proper dosage Arifin volunteered to dart the tiger, which required him moving to within 5 meters of the trapped animal.  Now to really understand the danger here, you have to remember that the tiger, which was a large one, was in extreme pain and under extreme threat.  The gin trap had also sheared completely through the bone, so the only thing keeping him in the trap was a layer of skin and sinew, which would not hold him if he pounced.  Arifin calmly and carefully approached the tiger in full and certain knowledge that if the tiger pounced he would most likely be killed.  He was able to successfully dart the tiger, and we ended up saving him.   Arifin was able to save the tiger because he's a good ranger.  It was one of the bravest things I've ever seen.  

Debbie went on to tell me that Pak Arifin was recognized "because he's someone that has gone out and done his job better than he has to."  She also told me that "he's a ranger in the forest service that has maintained his conservation values and transferred them into field action".

So congratulations to Pak Arifin for his outstanding achievement for his dedication and all his work at Kerinci Seblat National Park.  Hopefully his award helps others to see that conservation isn't just enforcement, but human relations as well.

Notes

(1)  Pak Arifin is currently on secondment to the Ministry of Forestry's rapid response forest crimes force (SPORC) based in Jambi City.  The job of polhut in Indonesia is roughly equivalent to that of forest rangers in the US.

(2)  The Indonesian civil service is interesting because many times people will become a civil servant on an honorary basis (Indonesian: "Honor"), which means that they receive a stipend and are given certain tasks within the office or organization.  My understanding is that this is a sort of "foot in the door" tactic and that people become honor in hopes that they will eventually be elevated to official status.  Lots of teachers, at least in my study area, have an arrangement like this.

(3)  The park is still underfunded and underresourced.

(4)  Debbie is probably the world's foremost non-Indonesian expert on both the park and the Sumatran tiger as well.

Hati Hati Di Jalan!

Beware of "The Hole"; see description below.

Since my fieldwork is winding down here and since I've motored almost 10,000 kilometers on the highways and byways of Sumatra, I thought I'd take the time to put together this driving guide for other foreigners thinking about taking to the roads here. Whereas the United States has a Transportation Safety Administration (TSA), whose ambit it is to ensure that the roads and everything them are safe, Indonesia has a Transportation Hazard Authority whose job it is to go around and make sure that a hint of death is included in any journey. Another thing to remember is that there aren't many parks or commons on Sumatra, and so the road becomes the center of village activity. People relax and recreate, commune and cogitate on the road. Children play by the road. They even have weddings on the road. So without further ado, here are some basic survival rules for driving on Sumatra.

Rules of the Road

Your guess is as good as mine.

1.  Don't be fatalistic!  Even though you will likely die on the road, there is still a chance that you will make it through. Drivers that have reconciled themselves with what they see to be an inevitable end are invariably more dangerous than those that are clinging to the notion that they just may get out alive because the former tend to adopt a kamikaze approach to getting from point A to point B. So be optimistic! But optimism must be tempered with realism, so remember the next rule as well....

2. Put your affairs in order... When a foreigner dies here it creates a lot of paperwork. Most civil servants here already have their plates full doing double-duty watching TV and smoking cigarettes AT THE SAME TIME, which is stressful. Dead foreigners gunk up the normally fluidly-flowing wheels of the bureaucracy here and can result in delays in backdoor payments to district headmen and assembly members. So do everyone a favor and make sure you've printed out your last will, testament, and burial instructions, translated them into Indonesian, and pinned them to a conspicuous location on your person. It would also help to put them in a waterproof, flame-retardant bag as well.  

3.  Know your vehicle.  This one is serious.  You need to know the ends and outs of what you are driving and how it responds in a variety of road conditions.  You also probably ought to be able to handle simple maintenance and be able to make modifications based on the terrain and conditions.  For me it's a motorcycle, which is the best way to get around the island.  You need to know which way the bike is going to torque when you slam on the brakes, you need to be able to handle skids and slides, and you need to be able to protect yourself in case you fall.  With a bike you have to pay attention to your brakes, chain, and tires.  Make sure the tires are fully inflated on the road, but if your on gravel you'll need to let some air out.  Rock roads or riverbeds, let a little more out.  A light bike is better because it is easier to push through the mud.  I carry a studded tire with me that I can switch out if I'm going to be spending a lot of time on mud and dirt.

4.  Wear boots.  Even if you are going on a short journey, make sure you have the proper footwear.  I learned this lesson the hard way when I was driving down the rock road down towards Tamiai while wearing slippers and a 1 kilogram stone popped up out of my wheel and hamburgered my right foot.  Boots are also handy because there are a lot of times where you need to use your feet to steer.


5.  Keep your eyes on the road.  This pretty much goes without saying, but when driving through new and beautiful places (like Sumatra), you may be tempted to let your eyes drift and enjoy the scenery.  Try to avoid this, and if you see something cool STOP and take a picture.  This is really important because most of the time you will need your full concentration to track all of the potential threats to your safety.  I am not kidding about this.  One time I was cruising through a village and I rubbernecked to check out the bunga desa (1).  As a result I went careening off into the oil palms and fell down (2).  So don't rubberneck to check out the bunga desa.

Dangers of Driving

Next we have a catalogue of typical dangers you'll face.  Most of these are no big deal by themselves, but in most cases you are going to be dealing with two, three or even four of these at the same time.  Also remember that the principle danger is other "drivers"; most people on Sumatra know how to operate a motor vehicle but there are only about 5 people, myself included, on the whole island that actually know how to drive.



Rasta Goats.  These guys are usually too bombed out of their heads to know what's going on  They usually have their little minds on wondering when Haile Selassie will come back to take them all away to Goat Zion (Gion (3)), and sometimes when they get the munchies they will leap out into the road looking for Funyuns.  Do not kick these.



Road Dogs.  You can, however, kick this next hazard.  You see, a dog has a lot more give than a goat, so you can deliver a boot to a dog's hindquarters going at a pretty good clip (4).  Dogs are everywhere on Sumatra, and I hate them.  I'd like to chop them all up and ship them over to my friend Ratna in Jogja to make hound-ke-bobs.  If you happen to run over a dog, keep going, because here they have this crazy notion that if you hit a dog you have to pay the owner some indemnity.  There's always someone lurking around waiting to pounce, and if you stop after hitting the pooch they'll ambush you with some story about how that was their prize tracking hound and how they were just about to sell the dog to the district headman for US$500.  I'm convinced that people "farm" dogs for this express purpose.

This next picture above shows a variant of the Road Dog, which I refer to as the Lazarus Dog. The Lazarus Dog lies around in the street all day looking dead to all the world. There's probably even some flies buzzing around him. But once you get anywhere near the Lazarus Dog he'll spring to life and dash right in front of you.




Merangin School Bus.  Be very careful of this vehicle because it moves erratically and makes frequent stops.  It likely doesn't have brake lights, because its driver has disabled the wiring because it's "cooler" to drive without lights.  Similar to the Cloverfield Monster, the Merangin School Bus spawns our next danger.



Little Bastards. Sure they are cute and all foreigners love to take pictures of the smiling kiddies. But in the road they constitute a major problem. If you run over one of these the local villagers will descend upon you and kill you.

The Kijang.  Note the dinky little tires. 

The Kijang.  "Kijang" means "look out because I don't know how to %$#@ing drive" in Indonesian.  It's very considerate of the Indonesians to have come up with a single word that succinctly conveys these sentiments.  The Kijang is a Toyota SUV manufactured especially for Indonesia.  I don't know what it is about these, but for some reason they are normally driven by people whose motoring skills are even worse than the general population.  The typical Kijang driver is quite proud of himself for achieving the lofty heights of Kijang Ownership, and most of the time they drive around in a state of transcendent obliviousness I've seldom seen outside isolated Buddhist monasteries.  "Kijang" has become a curse word for me.  "I got Kijanged!" I often find myself saying aloud.  So take the name seriously, and look out, especially for the model shown in the picture.



The Mosque Fund.  Anyone that has driven through rural Sumatra knows the one thing they really need is more mosques.  To address this problem you often come across groups that have placed obstacles on the provincial or national road in front of the mosque construction site to slow motorists so that they can be asked for donations.  As you can see from the picture, little bastards (see hazard description above) are often charged with this task.  Sometimes you will see some little bastards actually sitting on chairs in the middle of the road to collect money.



The Patch/The Hole.  The Hole is pretty self explanatory.  There are a lot of holes on the road and in many cases you will not be able to avoid them.  Holes are caused by the tropical weather here, but also by lack of maintenance and because when they first build the roads they often use inferior materials, which break down quickly.  But whatever the cause is, holes are a major annoyance and danger, and they put a lot of wear and tear on your vehicle.  The Patch is a hazard I've encountered, but I can't figure out why it exists.  In many places, especially along the road from Sungai Penuh to Bangko you will see these sections of road where the asphalt has been replaced by rocks.  It's not that the asphalt has worn away, because The Patch is higher than the surrounding asphalt.  And it's not the remnants of a landslide (which you will encounter).  It probably has something to do with the Zionist One World Government conspiracy.

The Blind Curve.  Again, by itself the blind curve is not so bad, but you have to remember that there's always going to be another hazard working in tandem with the blind curve.  Sometimes it's 7-year olds racing and biting into the turn.  Sometimes there's a big whole just around the bend.  You never know what surprises are waiting for you just around the corner.  I once went around a blind curve and drove straight through a swarm of bees.  Not fun.

Notes

(1)  "Flower of the village"

(2)  I have fallen exactly four times.  Two of those were while I was working my way down gravel slopes at approximately three kilometers per hour (gravel is very difficult to drive on, especially going downhill; work the back brake only).  Another time I fell from a dead stop (described in a previous post).  This particular time I was probably going 15 kph but I was able to prepare myself so I didn't get hurt.

(3)  Not to be confused with the famous geisha neighborhood of Kyoto

(4)  You can also kick a monkey if you need to, but they normally stay out of the way.  Unless of course you inadvertently stop to pee where a bunch of them are hanging out.  In this case you might get bumrushed.

GUIDEBOOK TO KERINCI ONLINE

This is just a short post to announce that I have uploaded jpeg pictures of every page in An Inside Look at the "Secret Valley" of Sumatra: A Guidebook to Kerinci.  This is an outstanding guidebook for the region and is a great resource for travelers.  To access the page look to the right of this post and click on the link "A Guidebook to Kerinci" to be directed to the page.  I will try to make a PDF available for download; when I get it figured out I will post the link here.

Hopefully this works.  If you want to download a PDF of the book (about 23mb) click here.

The Journey South (Part 5)

Almost home...

This is the fifth and last post describing a long motorcycle trip I took around the southern part of Sumatra's Kerinci Seblat National Park.  I started from my base in Sungai Penuh, drove through Kerinci district into West Sumatra, then down through Bengkulu province passing the districts of Mukomuko, Bengkulu Utara, Kepahiang, Lebong, and Rejang Lebong before moving into South Sumatra and then returning to Sungai Penuh via Lubuk Linggau, Sarolangun, and Bangko in Jambi province.  All in all the trip was 2600 kilometers, which on Sumatra is a long, long way.

The Highwaymen Came Riding, Riding...

Descending into no-man's-land...

After my business in Curup, I departed my forest policeman friend's house, where I spent the night, at just before 1pm.  The next stop on the road was to be Lubuk Linggau, about an hour and a half away, before heading through Sarolangun to Bangko, where I was planning on spending the night with friends before making the final 5-hour push to Sungai Penuh.  Although it doesn't seem like a long stretch, I'd been warned about the road in advance because there are bands of robbers that terrorize travelers, sometimes setting up obstacles in the road to cause them to fall.  I'd heard from most people that the ride is okay during the day, but when I was in Curup my buddy told me that some people have been robbed during the day, including an army general that was travelling with his wife through the area.  Indeed just a week before an elite mobile police brigade had been sent into the area to arrest the bandits, but after clashes which left a couple of officers injured the police were forced to retreat empty-handed.  But most people were of the opinion that I should be okay during the day, so I decided to chance it.  One friend advised me to "gas up, keep the hammer down, and don't stop".  My forest police buddy and his wife both expressed apprehension about me going, but stopped short of forcing me to go back to Kerinci the way I came.  I only half jokingly asked him if I could borrow his service .32.

"No I'm sorry I can't let you take it without a permit.  Besides, do you know how to use one of these?" he asked.

"I grew up in the South, Pak", I said, knowing it would be lost on him.

"Huh?"

"Aiming a gun is like pointing a finger, Pak...."

Instead of a gun I took my parang from my bag and attached it to my belt, not sure if this was actually a good idea or not.  I followed the advice to keep the hammer down because fortunately the road is in excellent condition and so you can make good time.  I was cutting turns like Fast Freddie Spencer, taking as much as my little tires would give, and not looking back.  During the day the local toughs (who by night become bandits) man a series of 5 "posts", which are really just tents and huts, where they (from what I understand) extort money from passing motorists, but when I went through I didn't see anyone get stopped.  As I passed the posts I put my sun-visor down so it wouldn't be so obvious I'm a foreigner, but by one post I was a little late lowering the tinted plastic and one of the thugs noticed me.  I saw his eyes widen and face light up in a way I've seen before just before bad things happen, so I floored it.  When I looked back no one was chasing me.  

I arrived in Lubuk Linggau on the edge of South Sumatra province after about an hour.  Relieved, I pulled into town, which is actually a pretty large city that serves as a transit stop on both the east-west and north-south routes across Sumatra.  After a quick lunch, I headed north.

Road Conditions

The road from Curup to Lubuk Linggau is very good asphalt, winding through some nice scenery.  But if you opt to take this road do it during the day and keep your eyes on the road.  Make sure you hide your valuables as well as you can, and keep a wad of bills handy in case you do get robbed.  

Making Time...

From Lubuk Linggau I headed north towards Sarolangun, the first largeish town in Jambi province, where I live.  You've probably heard the expression "as the crow flies"; well, if the crow was in a wheelchair or had his flying license suspended, this is the road he'd take.  This 130 kilometer stretch is almost arrow straight, smooth as a baby's bottom, and relatively free of heavy traffic.  You can go full speed for almost the whole stretch and it would be possible to do it in an hour.  I didn't do it in an hour because it was raining, so I had to slow down a bit.  After a while I came out of the rain, and the blue skies really lifted my spirits.  Until I hit the rain again.  Heavy rain.  Then into the clear again.  Just as my pants were drying, I hit another massive cloudburst.  By the time I hit Sarolangun I was soaked to the bones, and instead of pushing on another hour-hour and a half to Bangko I decided to bed down for the night since I was tired and wet.

The rain kept getting worse and worse, and so I pulled into the first hotel I could find.  I could here the rain intensifying even more, and so even though at first glance the room was less than clean, I took it because once you're in out of the rain you don't want to go back out.  After paying and heading back to the room and getting a closer look, I realized that I had made a mistake, but it was too late to turn back.  The room turned out to be the dirtiest room I've ever stayed in, and that's saying a lot.  Although I didn't notice it at first (because I've never thought to look; I will from now on though) it turns out there was no way to lock the door, so I made a makeshift barricade and hunkered down for the night.  Then the bedbugs set in.  I've encountered bedbugs on a number of occasions, but they always suck.  It's almost impossible to get to sleep because of the itching, and when you do fall asleep from exhaustion you're back up again in an hour or so.  I passed the night like that, probably managing a total of four hours of sleep.  

The next morning I skipped the complementary breakfast, figuring any food from a hotel this nasty would make me sick.  I drove the hour to Bangko, passed though and started on the final 4-5 hour leg to Sungai Penuh.  By this time I was in familiar territory and so I felt more relaxed.  I stopped at a little town called Sungai Manau, because that's where the road goes from nice asphalt to kidney-rupturing roughness.  I had breakfast at a roadside stall and was quickly joined by some soldiers from the local barracks.  We had a pretty interesting conversation, which culminating in them asking me for military aid.

"Hey what's that big tank you guys used to destroy Saddam?" a sergeant asked.

"You mean the M1A1 Abrams?" I said, remembering all the newspaper graphics from Gulf I and II.

"Yeah that one.  Do you think you could help us get some of those?"

"What are you guys going to do with tanks in the mountainous rain forest", I asked.

"Probably nothing, but tanks are cool".

So if you are reading this and happen to work at the Pentagon, please send some M1AI Abrams tanks to Kodim post 342 in Sungai Manau, Merangin.

Road Conditions

Scene on Batang Merangin.  Water wheels are for irrigation

As I mentioned, the road from Lubuk Linggau is the best road I've seen on Sumatra.  All blacktop all the way.  There are some trucks but you won't have any trouble getting around them.  It's 130 kilometers to Sarolangun, and there you can find food and lodging (other than the lodging I describe below).  From Bangko to Sarolangun it takes an hour or less, and you can also stop in Bangko as it is a reasonably large town.  Follow the nice winding blacktop out of Merangin towards Sungai Manau through some beautiful scenery.  Then from Sungai Manau the road is really rough in patches and gets worse as you move towards Sungai Penuh, about 2-3 hours away.  I was pleased to see that some new blacktop has been laid down, which triples your speed in some places, but there is a lot of work to do.  Again the scenery here is really nice, and from Bangko to Sungai Penuh you'll pass through the park.  The first time I passed through here I fell in love with the park.  There are nice valleys and beautiful primary forest.  Watch where you stop to pee, because it's tiger country.  Once you get into Kerinci Valley you'll ride around Lake Kerinci, which is touted as a tourist attraction, but it's pretty much just a lake.

North to Padang

On the road to Padang

I got back into Sungai Penuh at about 2pm.  I went to pay my bills, handled some correspondence, and went to work hand washing some clothes so that hopefully they would be dry by the time I had to leave in the morning.  The next day I set out for Padang, about 7 hours away.  Normally I take a travel-car (1) to and from Padang when i have to go there, but they manage to add 2-3 hours to the length of the trip due to the amount of fooling around they do.  The drivers for the most part don't really seem to care about passenger comfort, so I figured that since I'd already driven 2000 kilometers, what was 500 more?  It's cheaper and the task of driving oneself is a small price to pay for controlling your own destiny.

The journey from Sungai Penuh, although long, is quite picturesque in most places.  You get to cruise past Mt. Kerinci, the highest active volcano in Indonesia, and pass through the giant tea plantation in Kayu Aro, which is really worth the trip.  As you head north you'll pass through villages and beautiful rural landscape, following several rivers through various valleys.  Once you get to Muara Labuh in Solok Selatan district in West Sumatra you are firmly in Minangkabau country, and so you start to see Minang architecture, which is neat.

Padang Cement's "Anti-Mountain"

The road really starts to go to hell once you move into Solok district about an hour north of Muara Labuh.  I'm going to write a future post about just how crappy Solok is, but to make a long story short they have a lot of mining there which has decimated the landscape and the road.  But you will get to pass by Danau Di Atas, a large and somewhat picturesque lake an hour or so south of Padang.  The road through here skirts the ridges around the lake, and pretty much every time I've been through it's been raining (approximately 20 times).  Then you begin the gradual decent into Padang, which has some nice views but you really have to keep your eye on the road because there is a great deal of traffic along with a lot of hairpin turns.  They are currently doing some construction work on the road, resurfacing it with concrete, and so they only let one direction go through at a time.  So you might get stuck for up to an hour.  Either way but especially heading up the hills out of Padang is slow going because of the truck traffic that crawls along the road at less than 10 kph, so if you are in a car it's rough.  A motorcycle allows you to cut through pretty quick.  Along the way you can stop and check out the mountain that Padang Cement has dissected.  As far as I can tell, Padang Cement is the biggest industry in Padang (a city of over one-million), and they do a pretty good business.  The city's soccer team is even named after the company rather than the city.

Road conditions

Out of Sungai Penuh the road is pretty rough and there is a lot of town traffic until you get 10-20 kilometers north.  The road is reasonably good until you get past Muara Labuh in Solok Selatan.  Nice scenery along the way.  Expect delays heading down into Padang.  There are a number of good restaurants along the way, but I normally stop at Sunga Kalu  in Padang Aro, Solok Selatan for a meal since they have great dendeng and excellent soup.  Definitely worth a stop if you pass through.

To Jogja and Back

I flew out of Padang for Jogja bound for an international academic conference.  I spent 3 nights there with my good friend Danu, who has a great setup with hot water and wifi.  He even lent me a scooter with which to get around town.  I had to burn the midnight oil preparing my presentation on roads at Kerinci Seblat National Park because I had a lot of new data from the road trip but hadn't had time to put it together.  The presentation went over really well and I had the nice feeling that I've actually become an expert in the field.  I also got to see some other good work, enjoy time with friends, and eat some non-rice.  I've posted an edited form of the powerpoint I used for my talk; if you are interested in the notes that go along with it (which make it much more meaningful), drop me a line at geografikanusantara(at)gmail.com.

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Pounding out the old bearings

I took the red-eye flight out of Jogja and spent the night in Padang after chatting with some park staff in the regional office there.  The next morning I set out for home, stopping at a village in Solok to visit a friend.  He told me that the farmers in the area, who grow the passionfruit that is locally famous, are encroaching into the park to farm because as the climate shifts (presumably due to global warming) they are forced to grow the fruit at higher and higher elevations because to the increasing average temperatures.  After a couple more hours on the road I stopped to visit some NGO friends in Padang Aro.  When I passed through the park between Padang Aro and Kerinci district I noticed some play in my back wheel, which usually means one of two things: 1) your back tire is under-inflated or 2) your bearings are bad, which can eventually cause a pretty bad accident.  It wasn't the first, so I slowly rode through the hills and into Pelompek, a town in Kerinci district, and stopped at a local garage.  The mechanic agreed with my diagnosis, went to work, and within 45 minutes had new bearings on my bike.  The part cost me US$3 with the labor running a grand total of US$1.  Back on the road the ride was so much smoother and easier, and I headed for Sungai Penuh and home, slightly more than an hour away.

Three weeks and a total of 2600 kilometers.  Lots of interviews and observation, some misadventures, and an international conference.  What a trip.

A Little Lagniappe...

Just south of Padang Aro I stopped by a new ecotourism venture and talked with the operators a bit.  They gave me a brochure which I've posted below.  When I get a chance I'll translate it into English.  It's nice to see this kind of thing popping up around the park.  It's a nice place, and you can stay overnight there.  Definitely another reason to make the trip down this way.

Notes

(1)  Travel-cars are services where you buy a seat in a sedan or minivan for a journey.  It is generally more comfortable than riding on a minibus.

The Journey South (Part 4)

My route through Bengkulu.  Map from provincial RTRW.

When we last left our hero (yours truly) he was being screwed around by district officials in Arga Makmur, the capital of Bengulu Utara (North Bengkulu) district.  I was in Bengkulu Utara as part of a 2-week road trip through several provinces on Sumatra to visit villages, collect planning documents, and meet with government officials about the relationship between Kerinci Seblat National Park and the political entities surrounding the park.  This trip is part of my PhD dissertation research, which I've been in the field working on for the past 10 months.  I'd been told after waiting around for the vice district head to come to the office at 8am the following day, when I would be allowed to interview him.

Moving Right Along...

One of my new friends at Bupati's office in Lebong

The next day I went to the office as per the instructions.  After waiting about 30 the vice district head's secretary came in and told me he'd been suddenly and unexpectedly called away to a "party" and that I wouldn't be able to meet with him.  She apologized profusely while I made haste for the exit, intent on getting back on the road for possible greener pastures in Muara Aman, the capital of Lebong district.  After packing it took me about 2 hours to motor over to Muara Aman, where having no friends I checked into a room and headed up to the political and cultural affairs office (KESBANGPOLLINMA) to start the paperwork required to request a meeting with the district headman and other officials.  To my surprise they went right to work on the letter, and the head of the office even volunteered to be interviewed for my research, since he'd previously worked in several government offices and was well-acquainted with the politics of the district.

After an hour or so I got my letter and went over to the planning office, where I was immediately able to interview the head.  He instructed his subordinates to give me all the documents I wanted, which they did.  This was in stark contrast to what I'd experienced in Bengkulu Utara.  I left the office after a couple of hours contented that I'd put in a good day's work, the only blight being the failed meeting with the vice headman in Arga Makmur and the theft of my helmet from in front of the planning office.  I borrowed a helmet off the guys in the office so I could safely (physically and legally) make the 10 kilometer trip down the hill to town to get another helmet.  The only problem was that when the wind blew through the cheap helmet it sounded like the sound effect used when the bloodthirsty hordes of fishes attacked in the 1978 horror classic Piranha.  So as I rode down the hill I felt like I was about to be devoured by a million Piscean predators.  It wasn't a big deal though.

Later that night I was planning on meeting with a guy I met as I was on the way out of the KESBANGPOLLINMAS office.  He had described himself as the head of a local NGO that works to "support the government".  I'd heard about "red-tag NGOs" (1) before, but I'd never encountered one before.  The guy's whole manner stank of sneaky, and so I was intrigued and looking forward to the meeting.

Meeting the Local Mafia...

My new friend knocked on my door at 7:30 chewing on a toothpick and wearing a "Members Only" jacket.  He had obviously mistaken me for someone with influence or of some importance, because he also brought a really hot whore along with him.  He suggested we go to a local pool hall to talk business.  When we got there, the whore went off to the bathroom to powder her nose, or whatever it is that whores do in the bathroom.

"Do you think she is pretty?" he asked.

"Not particularly".  I lied.

"I think she likes you", he prodded.

"Well I don't like her.  She smells like fish and fertilizer" I responded.  Now in the Louisiana pool halls where I spent my early adulthood this is the sort of remark that would get a cue broken over my head.  But my new friend merely momentarily looked at me in distaste and got on with it.  He pulled out his wallet which contained a cheap plastic badge with the words (in English) "public investigator".  I had to stifle my laughter.  The whole thing was designed to be intimidating, and to normal, run-of-the-mill Indonesians who were raised in an era of authoritarianism it might be, but as an American I wanted to say "hey I used to have one of those when I was 7".  But I didn't.

"We want you to support our road building project from the national park.  I am going to Jakarta next week to liaise with members of parliament and the Ministry of Forestry.  If you could help us we would be very thankful in many ways", he explained.

Temporary bridge over road failure between Arga Makmur and Muara
Aman.  This stretch has 5-6 recent landslides; on the ridges above the
landslides you can see young rubber trees planted after clearing.

From a research perspective, getting down to brass tacks like this is pure gold.  But from an ethical perspective you walk a pretty fine line when you get into these sorts of situations.  I decided to take the cautious route, and I told him that my research agreement with the Ministry of Research and Technology forbids me from engaging in anything that could be construed as politicking, and so unfortunately I couldn't help even if I wanted to.  We had a brief discussion where he tried to convince me again of the merits of joining the team, but then evidently he decided that there was nothing to be gained from further relations with me, so he and the whore left.  I stayed on a bit with the local sharks before heading home for bed.

The next day I woke early and went up the hill to the government complex to talk to the district headman, who had made his fortune (illegally) harvesting swallows' nests from caves within the national park.  After a less-than-typical amount of being given the run-around I got my interview and got out.  The day before I had happened by the office of the local daily paper, and so I stopped in to chat with the editor and reporters for a while, since they generally are in the know and have some pretty juicy background information.  I generally get on well with local reporters and was really happy to have made some new friend.  Then I went back to my room, packed, and set out for Curup, the capital of Rejang Lebong district 2-3 hours down the pike.

Back to Rejang Lebong...

On the way to Curup I decided to make a brief detour to Tapus (locally Topos) subdistrict, where one of the 33 proposed roads through the park would begin in the direction of Musi Rawas district in South Sumatra province.  I wanted to see if Lebong district was up to anything sneaky, like moving a bunch of heavy equipment in to secretly start prep work for the road, which has not been approved by the Ministry of Forestry.  There wasn't any funny business, but talking with some friendly local folks and one of the village heads in the area was pretty revealing.  They told me all about the road and their interactions with the park, which is less than a kilometer away from some of the settlements, so it's a hotspot of people-park problems.  They also told me about a transmigration scheme that started about 2 years ago in the last village on the road, Bandar Agung.  Transmigration programs began in the 1970s with the goal of moving people from the densely-populated islands of Java, Madura, and Bali, to more open "frontier" areas on Sumatra, Kalimantan, Papua, and Halmahera (among other islands).  The interesting thing was that half of the Javanese in this particular scheme were refugees from the area affected by the LAPINDO disaster, where a company headed by GOLKAR party head and probable presidential candidate Aburizal Bakrie, which was drilling for oil or something like that, accidently hit a large pocket of subsurface mud, which began to erupt, inundated the villages and fields in the area.  This happened six years ago and the mud is still flowing to this day.  Lapindo, the company doing the drilling, has never accepted responsibility for the catastrophe, which has affected thousands, but it is widely acknowledged that they were negligent.  In the future I may write a post about the occurence.

Anyway, as it turns out about half the participants in the transmigration program have fled; according to the locals they can't take the mountainous conditions and don't know how to farm there.  This is pretty interesting because it raises the question of who gets the abandoned land.  In addition, the area is very subject to illegal farming in the park, which the locals say happens because there isn't enough land, but if there was enough land to move 100 Javanese families in then there's something amiss with this justification.  I made a note to come back to this very interesting (and beautiful) location sometime in the future for further work, because there's a lot going on there.

Road Conditions

Stopping for a meal on the road....

The drive from Muara Aman to Curup takes 2-3 hours and is a very pleasant drive through some nice forest over good road.  There isn't much traffic so you can really enjoy the cruise, but when I went it was raining.  You can stop off at Lake Tes, which is a pretty lake at the edge of the national park.  There are some recreation areas there and if you are so inclined you can ride in a boat around the lake.  There are places to eat along the way in several charming villages (as charming as Sumatran villages can be, anyway).  I guess I should warn you, though, that you need to make sure you have gas.  I take this for granted, but if you are running on less than half a tank and have the opportunity to fuel up, take it.  There are nice Pertamina stations scattered about, but about half the time they are out of gas.  You can always buy gas at an inflated price from a roadside stall, but this generally comes out of well-used jerry cans and the accumulated residue will eventually foul your carburetor.

Oh God When Will It End?

The approach to Tapus Valley

Due to all the screwing around in Arga Makmur I was behind a day, and so I needed to get an early start to even think about getting everything done before one pm, at which time I needed to depart for Bangko in Jambi to avoid the Pirates of the Bukit Barisan, which I'll describe in the next post.  Formal request letter in hand I made my way up to the KESBANGPOLLINMAS office for Rejang Lebong district, where I walked in just after the doors opened at 8am.  I met with the head of the office, who called in a subordinate who took all my documents.  The way this works is that the subordinate goes off and photocopies the documents and completes the letter of introduction you need to visit various government offices while you chat with the head.  The game here is to charm the head of the office and get him to like you before the subordinate comes back to say that you don't have the necessary paperwork from the province so that the head of the office exercises his discretion and says "Aw he doesn't need that.  Go ahead and issue the letter".  I am good at this particular game.  So when the subordinate came in to inform me that I didn't have the proper authorization from the provincial authorities, the chief, still laughing from my last joke, ordered the subordinate to issue the letter anyway.

On the road in Lebong

By this time it was 8:30 and I was pleased since I was making good time and realization of my goals for the day seemed within reach.  But then the power went out, which causes pretty much all work in government offices to cease, and it put a temporary kybosh on my letter because the clerk needed to use one of the computers to write it.  There isn't enough ink in the world to print all the expletives that were dashing through my mind at this moment, but I didn't panic because I HAD BEEN IN THIS SITUATION BEFORE, not just once but a couple of times, so I instituted work-around #1, which is to ask for oral permission to go visit the other government offices and come back for the letter later.  Sometimes this works, but it doesn't if the head of the office "has a better idea", which is never actually a better idea and generally requires you waiting around for something to happen which never does, it won't.

Finally after 3 hours of waiting the power was restored and my letter was issued, but the time wasted would make it impossible to meet with the district head and pushed me closer and closer to the zero hour that would increase the risk of me dying at the hands of the highwaymen.  Plus the sky was clouding up, and rain on the mountain roads would make it even more treacherous should I have to flee from the aforementioned bandits.  And to top it off the guy processing the papers had the stones to ask me for a 50,000 rupiah (just over $5) bribe to cover "processing", which I had no choice but to fork over (2).  I hustled over to the district planning office to get the regional spatial plan and do a couple of interviews when another bump in the road emerged.  

To really appreciate this new wrinkle I need to tell you about my friend Abidi.  I had met Abidi a few weeks before when we were both being trained to be auxiliary forest policemen.  Abidi lives in Lembah Masurai, a sub-district in Merangin district where they have a huge problem with forest encroachment in the park and other protected areas.  In the past the national police along with the Ministry of Forestry have tried to get a handle on this problem to no avail.  I've long wanted to visit this area because from a scholar's perspective the people there have essentially carved out a little pocket of sovereignty, which is interesting, but if I went in under the auspices of my pro-conservation NGO friends in Merangin I might never come out.  I figured Abidi, at some point in the future, might be able to show me around, given that he's from there and knows about what's going on and also is tied to the park, at least informally.  We changed numbers, but a couple of days later Abidi starts texting me, asking me to electronically transfer cell-phone minutes to him.  This is another situation I've been in before, and what starts as a request for cell-phone minutes becomes increasingly frequent requests for bigger and bigger payments.  So normally I write that particular person off and ignore the messages.  The process of ignoring generally takes a few weeks, though, during which time said person will frantically try to contact you because they are afraid of losing a potential source of income.

Abidi picked the hour during which I was interviewing the planning officials to blitz my phone, calling every 3 minutes or so.  The problem was that I was using my smartphone, which is a really useful field tool, to record the interview because my other voice recorder had become a casualty of the road.  So every time Abidi called, the recorder function switched off, ending the recording.  After 2-3 restarts I gave up and turned the phone off, because during an interview the recording device needs to be inconspicuous.  In addition, as useful as the smartphone is in the field, the battery life isn't very long, and so if you have someone that calls and calls and calls, and later on you need to use the GPS function or the scanner, you're pretty much f'd.  I carry a backup phone, but it's a bare-bones number just for emergencies.

Anyway, I didn't get to meet the headman, but I got my business at the planning office done and picked up the documents I need for my research and headed back to my buddy's house to pack my gear.  Just before one I got on the road to face the perils of passage from Curup to Lubuk Linggau, which I'll describe in the next and last post about my road trip.

Notes

(1)  Government cars have red license tags, and so a "red-tag NGO" is one that works behind the scenes to support some official's corrupt agenda.

(2)  If you are doing research in Indonesia you aren't supposed to have to pay for letters from KESBANGPOLLINMAS.

The Journey South (Part 3)

Bupati's office in Kepahiang.  Surprised at classical revival

This is the third installment in my narrative of my journey through West Sumatra, South Sumatra, and Bengkulu provinces.  For the past few days I've been dorking around between Curup, Arga Makmur, and the provincial capital of Bengkulu, Bengkulu city.  Since meeting with district officials in Indonesia requires a letter of introduction from the district Political and Cultural Affairs office (KESBANGPOLINMAS), and since that normally takes a couple of days because the responsible officer normally has other things to do than his or her job, I've been trying to get as much work done in the interim, which often requires me to travel from town to town at short notice to take advantage of an interview or observation opportunity.  So I haven't covered much new ground, but I've seen some neat stuff. 

Over the Mountains and Through the Trees...

After a night in Bengkulu I set off for Curup, which is the capital of Rejang Lebong district, where there is a significant amount of encroachment into the park.  I had arranged to interview the head of the whole southern region of the park there, but he texted me that he suddenly got called away to the park headquarters in Sungai Penuh (where I live).  I'd wanted to interview him for a long time because I'd talked with him in the past and he knows his stuff, but the distance to his office in Curup prevented this.  Now here I was heading to Curup and he had to dash off suddenly to HQ.  Oh the irony.  But that's how it goes.  Fortunately one of his subordinates was there, and so I set up an interview with him.  The ride from Bengkulu took me about 2.45 hours, but I passed through two new districts along the way: Bengkulu Tengah and Kepahiang, where I would learn forest encroachment is a huge challenge.  As it turns out, Curup is a pretty large town, and for Sumatra is relatively nice.  I did my interview, compiled my notes, and went to eat dinner.

When I was getting ready for bed at about 10pm I got a text from a forest policeman that I had contacted earlier through a mutual friend for an interview.  He asked me to come over to his house to chat.  When I asked if we could do it in the morning he said he was going to be out in the field, so it was now or never.  A year ago I would've told him that I was too tired, since I've interviewed a number of forest policemen already, but since I've been doing my fieldwork I've developed an ethic that compels me to take advantage of an opportunity to get some work done, no matter whether it's 3 in the afternoon or 3 in the morning.  Here you have to, because obstacles so frequently emerge that frustrate the research process that if something comes up you jump at it.  So I got dressed and went over to his house.  The parking area was dark when I pulled in, and as it turns out there was a 3-foot ditch six inches to the left of where my put my bike, and so when I put my feet down to lower the kick stand there was nothing there and I fell straight down into it, my Honda landing on top of me. 

"Hey are you alright?!?!?" asked my startled friend.

Fortunately this was a mud and shit ditch rather than a rocks and glass ditch, and so after I ran my severe injury detection protocol I answered "yeah I'm alright but I'm less than comfortable down here..."

"You have to be careful....there's a 3 foot ditch there" said my new friend.

"Yeah thanks for the advice.  I guess you've got a story to tell now."  This broke the tension and everyone started laughing.  

A group of folks playing cards nearby came and pulled the bike off me and helped me out of the ditch and we went inside and did the interview, which turned out to be one of the best I've done.  I had a good time with my new friend; he turned out to be a detective who looks at forest crimes from a systemic perspective, and so he was quite interesting.  So I came out of it with a few scratches and some great insight.  My bike had a broken rearview mirror and turn signal, which together cost me $5 to get fixed the following day.

Road Conditions

The route from Bengkulu to Curup takes between 2 and 3.5 hours depending on traffic, weather, and your driving capabilities.  On the way to Curup it took about 2 hours and 45 minutes, but on the way back it was closer to 2 hours.  The road for the most part is decent, but there are some rough patches.  The elevation gain is about 800 meters, and once you get out of town you start to climb up the Bukit Barisan mountains across countless switchbacks.  The views are great and you're surrounded by forest, and if you like mountain driving it's ideal.  I had a good time on the winding road on my bike because I could get around the climbing traffic pretty easily, but if you are in a car it would take significantly longer.  Once you get towards the top near the border between Kepahiang and Bengkulu Tengah districts you can take a break at one of the roadside stalls, have some coffee and enjoy the view of the coast and the cool mountain breeze.  It's a nice drive.

Back to Bengkulu

Note the amputated toes

The next day was Sunday and I didn't have anything to do in Curup, and since I needed to be in Arga Makmur on Monday I decided to head back to Bengkulu, which is closer.  There were a couple of people I could talk to there to justify the 2.5 hour drive.  On the way my friend Yanti texted me and asked if I wanted to tranquilize a tiger, to which I of course answered that I did.  When I rolled into town I went over to the Natural Resources office and the team was getting the tiger ready to be flown to Bogor over on Java.  I helped them get the cages into condition and they were able to move the tiger from the holding cage to the transport cage without having to use the tranquilizer, which is a shame on the one hand because I was looking forward to darting the beast, but on the other hand it's better for the tiger not to be tranquilized.  But I wrote down the recipe for the tranquilizer and am sharing it here in case you ever have to dart an 80-kilogram Sumatran tiger.  You'll be able to see a video of the cage-transfer when I am able to access a high-speed connection to upload it. 

Tranquilizer for 80 kilogram Sumatran Tiger

Ketamine 4.8 milliliters @ 100mg/ml concentration

Xylazine .16 milliliters @ 100mg/ml concentration.

To wake the tiger give him/her .034 milliliters of Atipamezole at concentration 5mg/ml.  Should the tiger go into convulsions, give it between .8 and 1.6 milliliters of diazapam (good stuff) at 5mg/ml concentration.  If you find you need to stimulate the tiger's breathing, give it 2.13-4.25 ml of Doxapram at 20mg/ml.  For parasites give it 1.7ml of Ivermectin at .02ml/kg and as an antibiotic use 21.25 ml of Dexamethasone at 4mg/ml. 

After the transfer was complete I walked out of the compound and noticed the confiscated sunbear they have there was going apeshit because of the tiger's roaring.  I told my friend the vet that the BKSDA could probably make some pretty good money if they pitted the two animals against one another in some sort of pay-per-view internet event, but she didn't care too much for the idea. 

I didn't have anything else planned for the day, so I went over to the Bung Karno house I mentioned in the previous post.  You can see Bung Karno's bicycle and book collection there.  Someone there said he was conversant in five languages, but there isn't much in the way of interpretive materials available.  In addition to being a hero of Indonesian independence, Bung Karno was also a hero of polygamy.  While in exile in Bengkulu he married his second wife.  I asked a bunch of people at the site how many wives in total Bung Karno had, but no one knew.  I was surprised that not even the ojek and taxi drivers knew, because normally they are experts at stuff like that.  Then I rode down to check out the ocean and found myself upon a beautiful beach that rivals anything you'll find in Hawai'i, Bali, Phuket, or any other international destination.  Pantai Panjang ("Long Beach") has smooth, fine white sand and the water is clean.  I road my bike out on to the sand and cruised for several kilometers in the direction of town, riding in and out of the tide.  It was the most fun I've had in a long time.  Though you can't swim in the water you could surf, and although it was windy on a calm day it would be really nice. 

The Waiting Game

Bengkulu's Pantai Panjang beach

After this second night in Bengkulu I got on the road back to Arga Makmur, an hour to an hour and a half away.  Once I got to town I parked by backpack at the park outpost, changed clothes, and headed to the KESBANGPOLINMAS where I was expecting (but not really) to pick up a letter of permission to visit the planning office and the district headman.  They hadn't written the letter yet, so they invited me to sit and wait "for a little bit".  Tunggu sebintar is my least favorite expression in Indonesian because it refers to a space of time that varies between 3 minutes and eternity.  The guy responsible for signing the letter wasn't in yet, so I sat in the lobby and chatted with the young men of the office that don't have any actual work to do (1).  They asked me all sorts of questions I've been asked millions of times.  "Can you eat rice?"  "How much money do you make?"  Eventually they subtly work the conversation around to subjects a boudoir, since as young men growing up in an extremely sexually repressed environment they are curious to know as much as they can know about America, which they know to be the land of free sex, an endless orgy where you can have your way with anyone at anytime.  They like the idea, but don't want to make it too obvious.  At the same time I was experiencing a familiar increasing annoyance at watching my day tick-tick-ticking away. 

Only smiling on the outside...

After an hour and a half of this my letter was waiting, and so I went over to the planning office, did an interview with one of the actual professionals there, and picked up a copy of the regional spatial plan.  Then I went over to the district headman's office with my letter of introduction, but the staff told me he was "at a party" and didn't know when he'd be back.  They asked me if I'd settle for the vice-headman, and I said "I suppose", and so they directed me to his office.  But he wasn't there either.  His secretary called him and they told me to go to his house at 2pm to interview him.  At 2pm I went there but surpise surprise he wasn't.  The policemen charged with guarding the place told me "tunggu sebintar", and so we set about the important business of talking about chicks and soccer.  At 3pm the vice-headman's entourage showed up, and his handler came over to ask my business.  I showed my letter and explained my business, and so he went to consult with his boss.  He came back to tell me that the vice headman had to "go to a party" and that I should come to the office at 8am the following day.  That's pretty much how it goes here when you are trying to get information from people.  "But Keith, why didn't you arrange the meetings in advance?" you ask.  "Wow that's a really good idea!  I should've thought of that!" I respond sarcastically through the ether.  But be warned, if you ask me that question to my face I will kick you in your private parts.

Anyway, the next leg of the trip will take me into Lebong and Rejang Lebong districts, where I hope to visit a village and meet some more officials.  I'll write about it in the next post.   

Notes

(1) In most government offices in Indonesia a significant portion of the office staff's primary responsibilities are to smoke cigarettes and watch TV.  Sometimes they take a nap.