Bengkulu: Finding diamonds in the rough

Sunday, July 04, 2004
Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Bengkulu

I was set to explore all that Bengkulu had to offer when Sudiyono, my rental car driver, asked my permission to turn on the tape.
As the trip was my first visit to the remote Sumatran province, plus I was traveling solo, I realized that my safety was pretty much in Sudiyono's hands. So, it was a case of anything to keep him happy.
Little did I know that the tape was by the notoriously obscene American rap group 2 Live Crew, but it did not look like Sudiyono understood or took offense at the lyrics.
The comical scene eased my earlier irritation with my slightly built driver, and the receptionists at my hotel in the province's capital, also named Bengkulu, all of whom had no idea where Kerinci-Seblat National Park was located.
That was despite the fact that we could find it on the glossy brochure the hotel provided, complete with a map, its distance from the capital and its description as a home to rare wildlife.
After a five-hour drive to the north, we came across the supposed location. A narrow trail began where the road ended, but there was no trace of the park.
The rather indifferent employee of the Ministry of Forestry's office then told us we needed to obtain a permit from the main office in the city, which would mean another five-hour drive back.
Forget it.
During my five days in Bengkulu, I discovered why the province is rarely mentioned on travel pages, the reason I went there in the first place.
The smallest and least populated province on the island, it lacks the public relations skill, or even the basic will, to make the most of its stunning natural resources.
That is notwithstanding its considerable historical appeal, as one of the few former English colonies in Southeast Asia (the English had sought it out as an alternative for pepper to Banten), and natural charms to rival those found on other parts of the island.
With only about 1.6 million people living in an area of about 19,788 square kilometers, it encompasses a 433-kilometer-long stretch of unspoiled sandy coastline with casuarina trees.
Its pristine jungles are home to tigers, elephants and rhinos, along with the exotic Rafflesia Arnoldy and wild orchids.
Yet, Bengkulu is still a could-have-been when it comes to tourism, holding magnificent potential but weighed down by infrastructure that is, at best, poor.
Try looking for a restaurant, stall or street vendor selling traditional goods, and it will be almost a mission impossible.
"Bengkulu people lack entrepreneurship, unlike West Sumatrans like myself. Maybe it's because the land is vast and fertile," said Sari Bulan, producer of the traditional Bengkulu textile kain besurek, who moved to the province over 15 years ago from his neighboring homeland.
Sudiyono, who turned out to be more cerebral than his choice of music would indicate, said Bengkulu's main shortcoming was its lack of one outstanding tourism attraction to hook travelers.
"Does this mean Bengkulu can be promoted?" he asked hesitatingly when he knew I was from a newspaper.
While also promising myself to send him some decent tapes when I got back to Jakarta, I assured him that his birthplace was worth mentioning -- and visiting -- because it is an outstandingly beautiful place.
We set out again to the east, driving along land where rows of traditional stilt houses neatly stood in line.
About 85 kilometers northeast of Bengkulu's capital, we encountered Curup, a cool hill town and the main producer of local agricultural products. We were met by the pungent aroma of coffee, with people drying out the beans in their front yards or on the street.
The nearby popular hot spring Suban Air Panas, formerly a religious site, turned out to be a bit of a mess, so we continued the ride to the north, passing the lovely mountain lake Danau Tes, and up to Muara Aman, the center of the gold mining industry during the colonial period, before returning to the capital.
The next day, we drove along the coastline to the west, passing bamboo houses with sago palm roofs. Herds of cows showed the coastal area's reputation as a cattle producer, as well as a center for palm oil production.
Standing amid cows grazing with the blue ocean in the background, the yellowish coconut trees and deep green oil palm trees all proved very, very meditative (nobody say Jakarta now).
We stopped at Lais, an amazing place with a white sandy beach and reddish rocks and cliffs. After dropping in at the Seblat elephant training center in Seblat, some 100 kilometers from the capital, we drove back to the city.
The last two days were spent in the capital, a clean, small town which is quite lovely, with many old colonial houses remaining. I recommend a visit to Fort Marlborough and the house of the first president Sukarno, now a museum to his exile in the province during the 1930s, the Old Chinese Quarter near the fort, and Pantai Wisata Sungai Suci -- a serene beach with casuarina trees instead of coconut trees.
Casuarina trees are also the attraction at Pantai Gading Cempaka Beach, some three kilometers of the center of the city, which used to be called the long beach due to its eight-kilometer-long coastline.
I stayed there for hours, walking along the pure white sand or sitting, watching people playing soccer.
At dusk, I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen in my life. As the gigantic yellow ball slowly rolled into the ocean, the color changed from pale yellow to a deep orange splashing the water, the sand and the sky -- it was simply breathtaking.
I have changed my mind. Maybe Bengkulu should just stay this way -- pristine, gorgeous but abandoned -- rather than becoming shoddily commercialized, the bane of so many of our tourist sites. For it's that forsaken quality that is all part of the attraction of discovering the province's secrets.

Labels: travel

Posted by hera at 2:02 AM | Permalinks | Comments

Kimchi: Korea strives to keep tradition on the menu

Sunday, November 16, 2003
Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Seoul

A cloyingly sharp smell hung in the air at the aT Center's exhibition hall here, site of Kimchi Expo 2003 last week.
Rows and rows of stalls displaying Korea's famous fermented dish, made with a spice rack full of different ingredients, took up the two floors of the modern building.
The idea of putting on a six-day international exhibition honoring a pickled dish may raise eyebrows among some people, but not Koreans.
For them, kimchi is serious stuff, part and parcel of their culture, with old sayings such as, "A man can live without a wife but not without kimchi", and "as Korean as kimchi".
For more than 3,000 years, sour-spicy kimchi has been a revered staple of Korean cuisine. Even today you would be hard put to find a Korean house, apartment or monastery without pots of kimchi on the porch, balcony or the refrigerator.
On the Korean peninsula, kimchi is so pervasive that people compare it to life's essentials of air and water. There is even the Kimchi Field Museum in Seoul, satisfying the questions of those curious about where it came from and how it evolved.
Director of the Kimchi Research Institute Park Kun-Young said the food also had philosophical value in honoring ancestors in this Confucian society.
"Our ancestors were poor, and we have no natural resources. That was why they tried to find a way to preserve food in the winter," said Park, a professor at Pusan National University's Department of Food Science and Nutrition.
But globalization, with the inevitable mushrooming of fast-food restaurants around the world, has even affected venerable kimchi.
"Young children don't seem as fond of kimchi. We're afraid that as they avoid kimchi, the culture may deteriorate and disappear," said Kim Young-Mo of the chief committee of the Expo.
There has also been decrease in market demand, and the country's producers face tight competition from Japan and China.
These are the very reasons the country held the second annual Expo.
"Other objectives are to introduce kimchi to the world market, to reinvigorate the kimchi industry and to increase the domestic market," said Kim, adding that the total budget for the Expo was about US$80,000.
A total of 181 companies participated in the Expo. Of that number, only 50 companies were kimchi producers, with the rest including spice and ingredient makers, kimchi refrigerator, health food firms and others.
The committee put on a variety of programs for the Expo which started on Nov. 6, such as a kimchi making contest for foreigners, kimchi cooking contest and folk song contest.
Of course, children are a focus to ensure there will be kimchi lovers in the future, so the committee invited 10,000 kindergarten students to the event, with some of them getting to participate in a kimchi making program. There was also a kimchi writing competition for elementary school students.
"Through this Expo, we also hope to attract buyers from other countries to boost the local kimchi industry, which is still on a small scale," said Kim.
In the past, kimchi was made by housewives and as a cottage industry. It has only developed as an industry about 10 years ago, and now consists of some 600 producers all over the country. But only 30 to 40 percent of the producers are economically viable, with the rest barely keeping afloat.
Only 5 percent of the total companies have the resources to export.
"Many if not all Korean women know how to make kimchi. But modern, kitchen-less homes have led to more and more kimchi being bought from the store, because it's costly to make kimchi at home," Kim said.
The most recent data, from the year 2000, showed that 30 percent of kimchi consumption in Korea was store bought. The total volume of kimchi produced commercially is some 500,000 tons annually, or a 1 trillion won market, which include not only branded kimchi in fancy packaging, but also that in modest boxes sold in traditional markets.
In 1992, kimchi consumption per head was 34.9 kilograms while in 2001, it was 33.6 kilograms, with the local price per kilogram around 4,000 won ($3.50).
Kim said small decrease in market demand was small "yet we can feel it".
Income from exports has also decreased, from around $78 million in 2000 to $68 million a year later, before rebounding to $79 million in 2002.
Japan takes 94 percent of the kimchi exported from Korea, but that only accounts for 6 percent of the total amount consumed in the country, with the rest made locally or from China.
"As kimchi gains more scientific recognition, Japanese are growing to like it. And they now know more about the method to produce it," Kim said.
Korea also imports its national dish, with this year's figure of about 24,000 tons or some $10 million. Almost all (98 percent) imported kimchi is from China, a country blessed with abundant natural resources to make the dish.
Korea is now working on promoting the nutritional value of kimchi as a low-fat, low-calorie and healthy dish. When Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) broke out earlier this year, some swore by the medicinal properties of kimchi.
"We hope this exhibition can encourage producers to export, and influence the government in terms of making its export policy," Kim said.
Organizing an exhibition, he added, was an effective way to communicate with a large number of people.
"I do believe that after the SARS epidemic, the increasing interest in Korean singers and actors, Korea will be more familiar to people and interest in kimchi will increase, too," Kim said.
With about 100,000 visitors visiting the Expo, there is reason for his hope of keeping kimchi on the menu.
Yet it is the spirit of maintaining a tradition and upholding it, despite the onslaught of the golden arches and other mass culture, that is really admirable about Koreans and their kimchi.
We Indonesians should learn from it and never take acar/asinan (pickled vegetables and fruit) or other traditional food lightly anymore.

Labels: travel

Posted by hera at 2:18 AM | Permalinks | Comments

SARS fears sap life out of Thai tourism

Sunday, June 15, 2003
Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Bangkok

Wanchai Lerdnirundon does not have much to do these days, except stare out to sea from his deck chair on the unusually deserted beach in Pattaya.
With Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) scaring tourists away from Thai vacation spots, there are hardly any takers for Wanchai's 10 boats, which ferry visitors to outlying islands.
"Normally, there would be 100 customers daily. But since March, the best I can get is only one group of tourists per week, or only four to five people," Wanchai, 43, said last week.
He recently laid off 50 of his 60 employees, with those still at work having their wages halved.
"If they can stand the condition, good. If not, they are free to go," sighed Wanchai.
"This whole SARS thing, it's worse than the war in Iraq."
The first vague reports of SARS cases in China and Hong Kong in March fueled a fear of travel throughout the region. The Tourism Authority of Thailand (TAT) noted that in March, the number of tourist arrivals dropped about 11 percent -- equivalent to some 300,000 arrivals -- compared to the same period last year.
In April, the situation worsened with a 50 percent drop, and the figure was believed to be 52 percent in May.
The downturn is despite the fact that both the country's cases were contracted outside the country, and that the World Health Organization (WHO) has declared Thailand a SARS-free nation.
"This (May) is the worst month we've had," TAT's research and statistics division head Walailak Noypayak told a visiting contingent of Indonesian reporters recently.
"The World Tourism and Cultural Council said that the impact of SARS on Asian countries is five times higher than Sept. 11. If there is no campaign to help recover the situation, we will lose about 30 billion baht (about US$726.4 million)."
Tourism is the second highest foreign exchange earner for Thailand after computer parts. Like most Asian countries, it plunged into the region-wide economic crisis in 1998, but it had an increase of about 7 percent in the number of tourist arrivals.
In 2001, despite the global travel downturn after the Sept. 11 attacks, it recorded a 6 percent gain in tourist numbers.
Last year, it earned 323 billion baht from a total of 10.79 million tourists, 60 percent of them Asians. While the concerted efforts to draw Asian visitors in the wake of Sept. 11 paid off, they backfired when SARS struck Asia first.
Occupancy at hotels in Pattaya and Phuket, for instance, is hovering around 20 percent-30 percent, compared to the usual 75 percent.
Thai Airways has also suffered; as of May 30, the company recorded a decline of 300,000 passengers, losing an estimated five billion baht from April through May.
Passengers were not the only ones afraid of flying. Media reports also left airline crews nervous, and an education campaign was launched, explained Suraphon Israngura Na Ayuthya from Thai Airways' crisis management and operations center.
"Now that the crews are no longer afraid, they are asking to fly. Unfortunately, they can't because their schedules have been reduced as we had to cancel thousands of flights last month."
The airline is looking for alternative destinations from SARS-affected countries by conducting campaigns and promotions for Australia, Europe, India and the Middle East.
Walailak blames some in the media for scare-mongering.
"It's not Asian media, but that kind of media that are more interested in worldwide news..the 24-hour reports where we are all connected by satellite. It makes people fearful..of life."
On the agenda now is bringing tourism back to full health, with a crisis team holding weekly meetings.
The Ministry of Public Health also established a SARS information center, to which airlines, agencies and other parties have to report the latest developments. The center publishes a daily press release updating the situation.
"Whether the press will be interested to use it on that day or now, we still publish it. Or else, we get a lot of rumors and panic like in the previous months," said Supamit Chunsuttiwat from the ministry's disease control department.
In working with the airport, the ministry installed equipment and assigned medical staff to conduct screening at the arrival gates for passengers from affected countries.
"And at least starting June 15, we will also have predeparture screening," Supamit said.
The ministry has set out to strengthen the services of all hospitals in the country to deal with SARS cases. The government has also allocated an additional 600 million baht to help stimulate the tourism industry, with prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra offering compensation of one million baht to anyone who contracts the disease in Thailand.
TAT has teamed up with Thai Airways, the Thai Hotels Association and Association of Thai Travel Agents for a special tour package called "Thailand Smile Plus".
It offers a free-stay night for every one night paid for, as well as discounts of between 20 percent to 50 percent at golf courses, spas and resorts. There is also a lucky draw.
TAT is also promoting the domestic market through its "Unseen Thailand" campaign, and holding road shows in Japan, Australia and New Zealand.
Thai Airways has made hygiene a paramount focus, with a plan to install the most technologically advanced air-cleaning equipment.
"The problem at the moment is the fear itself, not the disease," Wailalak said. "We must realize that this disease is a fact of life. The media has the important role to tell people that SARS is not as dangerous as we expect."

Labels: health, travel

Posted by hera at 2:29 AM | Permalinks | Comments

Gender equality a threat to unique Donggala silk

Sunday, February 23, 2003
Hera Diani, The Jakarta Post, Donggala, Central Sulawesi

Juleha, 67, is proud of the fact that three of her daughters, of five children, have their own careers and are financially independent.
Yet, the resident of Kabonga Kecil village, Banawa district, complained about how young women today refuse to learn the skill that has been passed down through generations: weaving.
"My daughters just don't want to do this. They're lazy, or have got too many other things to do: teaching and working. And while they're at work, they drop their children here and ask me to mind them," sighed the woman at a recent visit I made to her house.
In front of her was the traditional weaving equipment made of ebony, gedokan, as Juleha prepared to work on another sarong in the living room that noon.
Around her, two toddlers ran around the simple wooden house, while one of her daughters-in-law was trying to put her baby to sleep.
"If my grandchildren are not around, I can finish more quickly," Juleha said while looking for her glasses, finding them in a wooden box filled with thread.
She is justified in worrying, though, as Juleha is one of only three elderly women left in the village with the skill to produce traditional handwoven cloth.
Donggala regency is famous for its home industry that produces handwoven cloth, or ikat, made of silk, which has become a trademark of Central Sulawesi.
Unfortunately, handwoven textiles are on the brink of extinction, as fewer and fewer women are willing to master the skill, like Juleha's daughters.
At neighboring Wani village, there is not a single woman left who can weave using gedokan. In the past, Wani was the most famous place, turning out Donggala silks, using natural dyes.
Handwoven cloth is still produced in the area, but with more modern, more sophisticated equipment (ATBM), which is faster and more productive.
That is part of the reason why young women prefer to work with ATBM, as a piece of cloth can be finished in less than a week, compare with two weeks or even months if working with gedokan.
However, ATBM cannot produce certain motifs that are the trademark of Donggala silk. Although slicker, ATBM cloth lacks the detailing and unique "imperfections" found in traditional handwoven cloth.
"Bombakota (a checkered motif) is difficult to make on ATBM. It can't weave two-sided cloth like this either," Juleha said, showing off one of her creations, where one side has golden thread, which does not show through on the other.
Juleha has woven using both ATBM and gedokan, but since last year, she gave up the ATBM as she found it too large and cumbersome to operate in her old age.
She then recalled how she learned the craft back in the World War II period, when the Japan colonized the country.
"We had plenty of food back then, but there was no fabric, let alone clothes. The Japanese taught us how to plant cotton, make thread and use natural dyes," said Juleha, whose husband is a retired schoolteacher.
Today, she said, people here no longer used natural dye as it could only be applied to cotton.
"But we don't produce cotton anymore, because it's really difficult to weave. The material is easily broken. We only use silk now, and that's what has made Donggala famous."
It was amazing to see Juleha installing the threads one by one on the more-than-100-year-old gedokan, as she recognized well what the motif would be, while it was still in the form of thread.
"Hey, there's a high level of mathematics involved. There is nothing that has not been calculated. I may only be an elementary school graduate but I'm experienced," she bragged, laughing.
Now, she no longer breeds silkworms, making thread and dyeing it. Others exist who can provide that service, and thread is readily available on the market.
"But now it's becoming more expensive. Before the economic crisis in 1997, three threadballs, which could produce one piece of cloth, cost only Rp 25,000. Now they cost Rp 105,000," Juleha said, shaking her head.
Her creations cost about Rp 300,000 to Rp 350,000, but Juleha said the profit was not that great.
"Well, it's not bad, it helps my husband," she said.
But at least she does not have to look for customers, as people come to her house: government officials, tourists and others.
Sometimes they order, and many prefer purple, brown and grey hues.
"It usually takes two weeks for me to make a piece of cloth. My mother, though, worked very fast, taking only three days to a week," Juleha said.
When asked whether she felt sad that handwoven silk might become extinct, Juleha paused for a moment, looking into the distance.
"I'm sad, of course, but well, what can I say?" she asked wistfully, while continuing with her work.

Labels: culture, travel

Posted by hera at 2:56 AM | Permalinks | Comments