The sun was setting in Bantar Gebang, West Java, showering the mounting landfill with golden beams. Enormous, the landfill has the intimidating quality to make people feel small and insignificant. It is a 40-meter high modern kjokkenmoddinger (midden) supplied by the Jakarta Sanitaton Agency for the past 28 years.
Weeds have taken over the east side of the hill, settling roots on the composted trash over years of decomposition. Even small trees stood firmly there, growing from fruit pits thrown out with the city's kitchen waste.
Unlike the green east side, the west side of the trash mountain is still actively scavenged. We went there that afternoon, riding on the back of Lalan's pick-up truck. Lalan is an ex-scavenger who has several scavengers working under his command. His truck was full of flies, but the trash boss did not seem to care.
"Flies are my best friends!" he said proudly.
All scavengers are good friends of flies. The insects' job was to recite buzzing sounds in the scavenging orchestra. Scavengers sat together on the wet ground, peeling labels from plastic bottles. Others climbed the steep slope and scraped for valuable materials using a special hook they call ganco.
Some took a break and smoked with their peers. Several slanting tents stood on the slope a few meters above the ground, waited by women serving instant drinks and noodles for those who wanted a simple lunch between working hours. These activities were done with millions of flies swarming around.
We could not imagine opening our mouths for food or cigarettes as we did not want to accidentally swallow unfortunate flies. Plus, the place smelled like all kinds of foul odor in the world mixed together.
After the brief yet impressive visit, we rested on the more nose-friendly side of the landfill. As we contemplated the twilight drenched green slope, I deduced that maybe flies are thw Gods of the trah mountain, and defying th science of sanitation is their signature miracle.
Growing up with the view of Mount Merapi, I believe that some of the most powerful Gids dwell in mountains. Our generation may now be witnessing a new geological phenomenon in which mountains emerge from piles of our own waste. Gods who dwell in such mountains are glorified by the constant dance of backhoes and the chants of koplo (stupid in Javanese).
As divine beings, they manifest in a hybrid form: a cross between a fly and a human wearing rubber boots, worn-out pants and long sleeved dirty shirts.
As disciples, the scavengers' spiritual service is to connect the missing link from the sanitation agency to factories that need recycling materials. How green these new gods are!
Ama is living proof of this miracle. A scavenger's wife, Ama is a petite 17-year-old-girl and pregnant with her first child. Ama believes that her baby is growing strong despite the extreme unhygienic environtment in which she lives. Once, I witnessed in horror while she casually ate flies-swarmed bread during afternoon hang-out sessions with fellow scavenger wives. Worse, she regularly eats food her husband takes home from scavenging in the landfill.
"Scavengers never fall ill from eating leftovers found in trash," she said faithfully.
Instead of maintaining sanitation, Ama disciplines herself with set of wives-tale taboos to keep her pregnancy healthy.
"I have to keep my hair tied all the time and only take baths in batik cloth," she said, challenging modern science.
The miracles include unexpected fortunes. Darka, who has been scavenging since 1989, said that finding dead babies is widely believed as good luck. Dead babies are found among the trash at least four times a year, and each time, scavengers would fight to win the rights of serving them a proper burial.
One scavenger, according to Darka, found dollar bills on the trash mountain after burying a baby. Treasure comes in many shapes and smella, even worm eaten baby corpses.
"I found one myself a long time ago," said Darka. "It was in a card board box, still covered with its own placenta. I took it home, bathed it and buries it. I chanted adzan (call to prayer) for it. Afterwards, I made red-and-white rice porridge as an offering."
The baby came to his dream the night he performed the burial.
"It came to say 'thanks', and told me it was resting well," the father of three smiled.
Lalan, Ama and Darka, like most of the scavengers residing in Bantar Gebang, come from Indramayu, West Java. Their mother tongue is a dialect of the Javanese language, comprising sharp, high pitched phonetics with a range of glottal sounds.
Spiritualism is a strong value in their lives; a fusion between Islam teaching and Javanese syncretism. Mystiques centering around a mountain is a staple for Javanese people, and the Bantar Gebang trash mountain is theirs to revere.
We stood staring at the giant garbage pile that is now turning into a green hill. I imagined a scene ofna post-apocalypse Earth: a group of archeologist aliens park their spaceship at Bantar Gebang. In astonishment, they study the mountain that is full of artifacts from Earth's advanced civilization. They cannot comprehend how humble this society was - a society that lived in triplex hut compounds with a view of the trash mountain and put its faith in the Godsnof the Flies.
Gisela Swaragita
The Jakarta Post/Jakarta
Weeds have taken over the east side of the hill, settling roots on the composted trash over years of decomposition. Even small trees stood firmly there, growing from fruit pits thrown out with the city's kitchen waste.
Unlike the green east side, the west side of the trash mountain is still actively scavenged. We went there that afternoon, riding on the back of Lalan's pick-up truck. Lalan is an ex-scavenger who has several scavengers working under his command. His truck was full of flies, but the trash boss did not seem to care.
"Flies are my best friends!" he said proudly.
All scavengers are good friends of flies. The insects' job was to recite buzzing sounds in the scavenging orchestra. Scavengers sat together on the wet ground, peeling labels from plastic bottles. Others climbed the steep slope and scraped for valuable materials using a special hook they call ganco.
Some took a break and smoked with their peers. Several slanting tents stood on the slope a few meters above the ground, waited by women serving instant drinks and noodles for those who wanted a simple lunch between working hours. These activities were done with millions of flies swarming around.
We could not imagine opening our mouths for food or cigarettes as we did not want to accidentally swallow unfortunate flies. Plus, the place smelled like all kinds of foul odor in the world mixed together.
After the brief yet impressive visit, we rested on the more nose-friendly side of the landfill. As we contemplated the twilight drenched green slope, I deduced that maybe flies are thw Gods of the trah mountain, and defying th science of sanitation is their signature miracle.
Growing up with the view of Mount Merapi, I believe that some of the most powerful Gids dwell in mountains. Our generation may now be witnessing a new geological phenomenon in which mountains emerge from piles of our own waste. Gods who dwell in such mountains are glorified by the constant dance of backhoes and the chants of koplo (stupid in Javanese).
As divine beings, they manifest in a hybrid form: a cross between a fly and a human wearing rubber boots, worn-out pants and long sleeved dirty shirts.
As disciples, the scavengers' spiritual service is to connect the missing link from the sanitation agency to factories that need recycling materials. How green these new gods are!
Ama is living proof of this miracle. A scavenger's wife, Ama is a petite 17-year-old-girl and pregnant with her first child. Ama believes that her baby is growing strong despite the extreme unhygienic environtment in which she lives. Once, I witnessed in horror while she casually ate flies-swarmed bread during afternoon hang-out sessions with fellow scavenger wives. Worse, she regularly eats food her husband takes home from scavenging in the landfill.
"Scavengers never fall ill from eating leftovers found in trash," she said faithfully.
Instead of maintaining sanitation, Ama disciplines herself with set of wives-tale taboos to keep her pregnancy healthy.
"I have to keep my hair tied all the time and only take baths in batik cloth," she said, challenging modern science.
The miracles include unexpected fortunes. Darka, who has been scavenging since 1989, said that finding dead babies is widely believed as good luck. Dead babies are found among the trash at least four times a year, and each time, scavengers would fight to win the rights of serving them a proper burial.
One scavenger, according to Darka, found dollar bills on the trash mountain after burying a baby. Treasure comes in many shapes and smella, even worm eaten baby corpses.
"I found one myself a long time ago," said Darka. "It was in a card board box, still covered with its own placenta. I took it home, bathed it and buries it. I chanted adzan (call to prayer) for it. Afterwards, I made red-and-white rice porridge as an offering."
The baby came to his dream the night he performed the burial.
"It came to say 'thanks', and told me it was resting well," the father of three smiled.
Lalan, Ama and Darka, like most of the scavengers residing in Bantar Gebang, come from Indramayu, West Java. Their mother tongue is a dialect of the Javanese language, comprising sharp, high pitched phonetics with a range of glottal sounds.
Spiritualism is a strong value in their lives; a fusion between Islam teaching and Javanese syncretism. Mystiques centering around a mountain is a staple for Javanese people, and the Bantar Gebang trash mountain is theirs to revere.
We stood staring at the giant garbage pile that is now turning into a green hill. I imagined a scene ofna post-apocalypse Earth: a group of archeologist aliens park their spaceship at Bantar Gebang. In astonishment, they study the mountain that is full of artifacts from Earth's advanced civilization. They cannot comprehend how humble this society was - a society that lived in triplex hut compounds with a view of the trash mountain and put its faith in the Godsnof the Flies.
Gisela Swaragita
The Jakarta Post/Jakarta
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar