A Tropical Treat: Indonesia

"Going to Indonesia at this time -- are you crazy? What about the Bali Bomber? And SARS?"

So what? We've been saving for this trip for years! And Malaysian Airlines has a special deal -- Jakarta and three nights in Kuala Lumpur in a four-star hotel free -- all for U. S. $320! And with my sister in Indonesia wanting us to come and promising to take us to Bali, why miss the trip? And really, if the headlines in our Dhaka newspapers are any indication, is life safer in Dhaka than in the SARS-infested zones of the world? And, finally, Indonesia is SARS free -- according to CNN!

And so we left Dhaka for our fifteen-day summer holiday despite the warnings of the wary and the paranoid well-wishers of my Dhaka, eager to take a break from the heat and commotion of our city.

II

The Malaysian Airlines flight to Kuala Lumpur en route to Jakarta is smooth enough. But Kuala Lumpur airport's transit area in the early morning looks surreal -- sleepy-eyed people slumped in chairs or shuffling uncertainly and not a few masked faces bent on scaring away the SARS demon. The airport looks futuristic but somehow forbidding. The airport air conditioning, too, is chilly. Thankfully, we will be arriving in Jakarta in a few hours.

III

Jakarta Airport is not as modern as Kuala Lumpur's but definitely looks more intimate than that overdone Malaysian showpiece. However, the SARS masks are here too -- giving the same spooky feel to the place.

We feel like VIPs. Salaheen, my friend from my university days, surprises us by greeting us from just outside the immigration booth. He is the World Food Program country director and has come to receive us. And my sister greets us warmly once we cross customs and claim our baggage; then her driver collects everything and whisks us away to the car.

The flight from the airport to my sister's house startles us. Jakarta hardly looks like the capital of a country that needs WFP assistance. The highways are impressive, we seem to be on flyovers every now and then, skyscrapers surround us, and we pass trendy malls and hotels regularly. My sister tells me that the money deposited in the three tollgates we cross will go to one of Suharto's daughters. His family, apparently, owns this or that everywhere. But they have things to show and share for all the money they had made at the people's expense!

IV

The next three days we travel in and around Jakarta. The first morning we visit a massive museum built by Suharto which displays all the gifts he got from kings, queens, prime ministers, and presidents, as well as his own people and no doubt hordes of sycophants. As a collection, it is uneven, but there are some amazing things here for sure. The museum is a reminder that Suharto is still an absent presence in the country; he might have yielded to public pressure and resigned, but it is clear that he still wields considerable clout.

Later, we go to a huge theme park where every province of Indonesia has its own display center. There is even a skyway from which you can see the whole Indonesian archipelago spread below in miniature. It is not only a good way to view Indonesian history and culture but also a shrewd way of fostering a sense of unity in the citizens of a multicultural nation.

The second day we take a three-hour drive to a Safari Park built thoughtfully so that you have the illusion of being amidst wild animals in the wild. Natural barriers confine only the most ferocious animals; the others surround your car or stare at it. Mostly, the animals ignore us, preferring to groom themselves or devour fruits.

We drive farther up the mountains, past tea gardens and a gold mine. We end up in a unique tourist spot-- a place where developers have built summer homes for sale that seem to have come out of assorted movie sets: Venetian apartments, English homes, ranch type homes. It is as if any kind of home you can dream about, they will have it ready for you! The whole place is full of gardens; they have let a thousand orchids bloom!

In our evenings in Jakarta we go out on shopping sprees. The city is wonderful for shopping. My sister knows where the best deals are and so we go on a binge. Large department shops are stocked with designer goods but business is dull at this time of the year and so we find bargains everywhere. All the multinational fast food companies have franchises here and as do a few famous department stores and supermarket chains. The signs are in English though nobody speaks the language. That and the currency -- where even a banana costs 500 rupiahs and you can pay lakhs of rupiahs for a shirt -- should have made shopping an impossible proposition for us. After all, we would like to know how much everything costs in dollars so that we can calculate how many takas we were spending for every item. Luckily, my sister does the calculating and we feel pleased that we get some shopping deals we never could dream of getting anywherewhether in Bangladesh, India, or the West.

V

The highlight of our Indonesian trip is Bali. It is exactly what the tourist brochures say: an island paradise. SARS and the Bali Bomber have scared away tourists and so prices are down here too. Consequently, we find ourselves in the splendid Nassa Dua Hilton -- a splendid luxury resort hotel on the beach.

From our hotel room balcony we view a picture-post card world: the azure of the sky, an endlessly blue ocean, and a mountain-capped island emerging languidly on the other side from the water. As we come to the beach we hear the mellifluous splash of waves breaking endlessly on the shore. At night we discover to our delight that we are here during the full moon. And the weather is lovely too: a mild sea breeze blowing all day makes even the hot sand bearable, as long as you are in the shade in the afternoon.

We settle in for three days on the beach. Inevitably, I think of my three trips to Cox's Bazar. What a relief to be in a place where you are completely secure, where you and your loved ones can laze on the beach all day long in the sun or in the shade, play beachsports, surf, splash, and swimsafe from ogling eyes, touts, and beach garbage! Lifeguards, towels, swimming pools, refreshments -- everything you can think of -- are available. Time ceases to matter and the mind relaxes. I think of Tennyson: "..

.a land/In which it seemed always afternoon./All round the coast the languid air did swoon."

We arouse ourselves from our waking dream only in the evenings for shopping expeditions to downtown Bali. My sister helps us haggle and we find bargains galore. Exquisite batik print clothes abound but the woodcarvings are worth buying too. Even more than the Javanese, the Balinese are gifted artisans, possessed of a delicate sense of beauty and imbued with an imagination hued with surely some of the loveliest colors on earth.

One evening we travel to the other side of the island to watch Balinese theatre. The Balinese are predominantly Hindus and the dance is about the love of Ram and Sita, Raban the tempter- abductor, and the intrepid Hanuman brigade. We are enthralled by the grace and vitality of the dance, the delicate movements and the vibrant harmonies. I am reminded how impressed Rabindranath was in 1927 when he visited Java and Bali, was moved by the affinities with Bangla culture he perceived as he watched their dance dramas and his appreciation of Balinese batik craftsmanship. I recall also "Sagarika" (Sea-girt"), the lovely poem he wrote on Bali. He, of course would, because he was one who never failed to respond to the truly beautiful!

VI

"Don't miss Borobodur", my historian friend had told me in Dhaka, and I didn't want to. And so we fly from Bali to Jogjakarta, a city conveniently located for excursions to the sites of the Buddhist and Hindu monuments of Central Jakarta.

The highlight of the evening we spend in Jogjakarta is the Javanese play we watch in an open-air stage. A sumptuous dinner precedes the performance. This play, too, is based on the travails of Sita, the machinations of Raban, and the final victory of good over evil, but this production is much more theatrical, and less dance-oriented than the Balinese one, though both are equally impressive as spectacles. I love watching the dazzling movements of the performers and their marvelous costumes. I enjoy listening to the distinctive rhythms of their songs. Delicious ethnic food, dynamic theater -- what better way to spend a night out on a holiday!

The next morning we leave the hotel at five in the morning for the monuments. Central Java is hot and we must visit them before the afternoon sun saps us of all energy. On our way we pass a still active volcano and see smoke curling out of the mist-filled mountain. Borobodur is a hill where Buddhist artists built walkways, galleries and stupas, embellishing them with bas-relief based on Buddhist themes. There are only a few foreign tourists but we come across Javanese school group who are on a study tour where, among other things, they must polish their English-speaking skills by talking to people like us!

Next we head for the neighboring Hindu monuments of Prembanang. This is essentially a cluster of temples decorated with motifs from Hindu myths and legends, I am reminded of the cave paintings of Ajanta and the temples of Elora in Maharashta and even the relics we can see in Comilla's Mainamati Museum and Rajshahi's Varendra Research Museum. It occurs to me that they are all evidence of the rich syncretic Hindu-Buddhist culture that spanned all of South Asia from India to Indonesia in the early Middle Ages. I am quite sure that what I saw in Ajanta and Elora was even more impressive; however, the Indonesians have done a much better job of preserving these heritage sites and presenting them to tourists.

VII

We return to Jakarta, spend two more days in the city with my sister and her family and then head for our three-day Malaysian trip. We have done mostly touristy things in Indonesia and haven't really met the people up close. Salaheen told me that there were slums behind the high-rises of Jakarta that one couldn't see from the highways; I had read about the violence and the looting that accompanied Suharto's downfall; ethnic violence seems to be endemic in some parts of the country and is broadcast on CNN and BBC every now and then. And yet what we had seen in our ten days was a lovely country, very modern in some ways, very traditional too, and had come across friendly and quiet people with a flair for the beautiful. As I left I thought of my own country -- we have our beautiful spots and our people are no doubt as hospitable as any other -- but would a tourist coming to Bangladesh find that out after ten days? Somehow we have to learn to put our best foot forward!

Fakrul Alam teaches English at Dhaka University.