Galen & Rebecca Kennel’s Weblog

Gotong Royong, the neighbouring village, has become the town centre for Bukit Lawang since the village was destroyed in the 2003 flood. On Fridays a market is held near the bus station. In the morning we walk the 2 km through a latex rubber plantation (the locals call the plantations ‘condom farms’) to the market for breakfast. We arrive there about 8:00, just as all the vendors are unloading their goods. This market doesn’t start as early as the ones in Chinatown – perhaps because the roads here are so bad and it is more difficult for the farmers to bring in their produce while it is dark.

At the entrance to the bus station we smell a really bad odour – rather like too much cow manure. It is actually coming from the bales of latex rubber that farmers have brought to the market to sell to a wholesaler, who then sells it to the government latex mill. By the time we leave a few hours later, the area is full of bundles of latex, with men milling about and buyers checking the quality and weighing the bundles.

We order breakfast from one of the women with a food stall in the middle of the bus station. Rice, hard-boiled eggs, something that looks like refried cornflakes with chilli peppers, and peanuts. Delicious. Really.

A small truck full of oranges pulls up near us. Motorcycle side-cars loaded with produce go down the narrow alleys between the stalls. Bundles of clothing, shoes, cloth. Toothpaste, shampoo, soap.

After going through the market, we walk down the main drag through the town. The villages here are long and narrow, with the most of the houses bordering on the main road and farm land behind. Motorcycle repair shops, tire repair, basic dry goods. There isn’t much here.

Back at the market we buy toothpaste, cane sugar, and cold drinks, then catch a motorcycle side-car back to Bukit Lawang.

It is quiet in Bukit Lawang. Before the flood, this was a bustling place with thousands of Indonesian and foreign tourists. Now, over four years after the flood destroyed the whole village, the tourists are starting to trickle back. The orang-utan rehabilitation centre and jungle trekking are the main attractions for foreign tourists. The local tourists, mainly from Medan, come here to picnic and swim in the river.

We are approached continually by young men offering guiding services into the jungle. There must be 50 guides for every tourist. The walkway on one side of the river is lined with thatched, bamboo huts – shops selling drinks and snack food, souvenirs, clothing. But there are very few tourists. People are ready, hopeful, and waiting.

Everyone has a story. Everyone here lost family and friends in the flood. Houses for the people have been built on higher ground – rows of concrete block houses squatting on the hot hillside with no trees to provide shelter. A village in a tropical jungle with no trees.

All along the river, on both sides, ones sees the skeletons of the hotels and guesthouses. Some were partially destroyed in the flood. Some were abandoned when no tourists came to fill them. Here is a newsletter with some photos of the flood that will give you a good picture of the devastation. http://www.duke.edu/~mym1/scopnewsletter.pdf

We have been invited to Papa Denmark’s for dinner. We go down to his place about 3:00, as he wants to take us on a walk to one of his favourite places. A Danish friend and his girlfriend join us on the hike to Lando River, through jungle cleared for rubber, palm oil, bananas, and other farming purposes. As we pass by the Eco Lodge, we are joined by a local man who doesn’t like it that Papa Denmark is taking us on this hike. He wants to be the one to be the guide.

It is quiet hiking here – we don’t hear any bird sounds and no monkeys come to visit us. We pass a few houses and sleeping platforms that workers use.

The river that we come to is crystal clear and flows out of an undisturbed part of the jungle. We wade across the river to a place where a pool has formed at the bend. Papa and Galen go for a swim. The rest of us wade in the water and then sit on the rocky shore and enjoy the sights and smells of the jungle.

Later we enjoy a wonderful meal, cooked by Sri, Papa’s Indonesian daughter, and her friend Ima. Sri lives in a little bamboo bungalow next to Papa’s. He built a kitchen for her to use at the back side of his bungalow, but she prefers to cook on the floor of her own place. And wash her dishes in the river.

Sri barely escaped being washed away by the flood in 2003. At the time, she was sleeping in a room above a restaurant along the river where she worked. A friend came to wake her. She had to wade through waist deep water in the restaurant. It was dark and raining. They clambered up the hill behind the restaurant and spent two days huddled there until they could be rescued. Sri was crying the whole time. There are many stories like this in Bukit Lawang.

Photos from the day.