30 Jan Party Time

Have been urged for some time to keep 30 Jan clear all day for Pak T.O.’s fiftieth birthday but Biwa has different plans telling me first that T.O. has changed his birthday to the 31^st (having been born at midnight) and then that the party would not start till the afternoon. He wanted me to accompany him to a meeting with the builders of the study centre cabins. I claim that I must ask and get approval from my boss T.O. but Biwa said he would clear it at a meeting in the village. At all events I am up early for a forecast 5am start on the Biwa journey but for only the second time in Indonesia things are ready before the set time and I have to rush without breakfast, putting on my executive trousers for smartness (and an air of authority) and to hide the bandage that I have now applied to my exhaust pipe burn that refuses to heal over. And so speeding through the countryside with Biwa, Wati who doesn’t want to lose her car and wants to share in the planned surprise, and Thomas. The landscape is attractive even in the dark with the trees, small farms, paddy fields and bright starlight that could not be appreciated in Jogyakarta. As the dawn starts to break, with cockerels and ducks waking up to be heard through the open windows we see Merapi volcano standing proud but like a factory producing clouds. About an hour sees us at the Ketep pass on the west of Merapi in a visitor centre and park for viewing the volcano. Quite attractive and only marred by a few garish adverts (for pot noodles) which apparently provide an 8 million Rph annual income to help the maintenance. It was developed a few years ago by Biwa and a few friends with finance from the then president Ibu Megawati and is apparently run by the local government as a tourism project bringing visitors and their money to the district ( I bet Pak Biwa still retains some interest in the venture or the site itself though!). All misty though and while the cloud rises a little to reveal the near landscape of terraced rice fields, small villages and clumps of woodland the volcano itself remains elusively invisible. Thomas and I visit the ‘museum’ where disappointingly a couple of models of Merapi and a collection of old photos comprise the bulk of the display. We have a breakfast provided by Wati – biscuits pot noodles and sweet tea but still the cloud does not lift to reveal the volcano which I am assured is usually there – will have to return on another day or maybe it has something against me every time I approach.

After a couple of hours and taking photos we move on to Kopeng village on the north face of the volcano where a friend if Biwa has a number of cheesy oil paintings of the President which Biwa want to have photographed so he can give a print to T.O. for his birthday (lucky chap!). Thereafter on to the site of the Muslim study centre cabins where the builders have been ploughing on apparently as directed by Biwa, not to my drawings, although admittedly Biwa has only had a cursory inspection of the requested drawings. Nevertheless he happily agrees to change the location of the toilet and the kitchen and to incorporate holes in the concrete slab about to be poured for drainage and the water supply. Bamboos for construction have been assembled, 5.5 metre lengths though my design requires 6 metre+ so redesign needed ( this is just trying ti keep up with the actual building!). Also to give more headroom in the kitchen and toilet Biwa proposes to extend the ‘dormer’ feature to the point where we are building a standard box but with a decorative ‘A’ frame feature at either end. I also reckon that any revised design for future units should cater for disabled access which is just not possible with this first model, standing as it does up on metre high stone pillars.

Back to my home village with Thomas who wants to borrow the usb memory stick to get the president’s photos printed, driven by one of the Muslim sponsors of the study cabins who is an old friend of Pak T.O. In Mandungan the extra canopies and temporary street lights are being erected, the band is setting up and testing the sound system and 300 plastic seats are being set out for the party. Savour my breakfast cornflakes at last rather than making lunch and at 7 o’clock take a seat to watch the visitors arriving. The first outsiders arrive about 8pm with most rolling in at 8.30 for the traditional Javanese music and dancing girls. Visitors include the Dukoh, of course but also bigwigs form the local government and police (why should I worry about my out of date driving licence?!) and farmers from a wide area across Java, those from Pakis recognising me as an old friend.Biwa and Thomas turn up eventually but need to keep the usb because their printing has not yet been achieved. I say I will collect it the following day and Thomas and I retire to my room for a beer (the street party is surviving on warm tea) and chat. It seems that the hostel has been inspected by prospective purchasers from Jakarta, which gives T hope of being able to become manager properly with the owners in Jakarta leaving him in control. The President has given the ok to Biwa’s plans for a think tank study centre, to be known as the Adam institute (first man on earth Adam not Adam Smith) on a hillside site from where seven different volcanoes can be viewed and where any group who thinks it can offer a contribution to improving Indonesia’s fortunes can deliberate in peace and quiet – I’m dubious but am an old cynical westerner so what do I know? Biwa is apparently excited though and chasing loose ends up with T.O., Ajikusomo (the next president intended?) before flying of to the capital on Thursday. It is admitted that the president is restricted by the need to get the support of the ruling party in the government, which is not his party. Back on the street the party show is in full swing, sweet little girl on stage being interviewed by the MC and food being served to all the guests – this must be costing more than a wedding! Happily Thomas and Biwa have returned to Jogya before I find myself on the stage for a song and dance routine with a sexy looking vivacious entertainer. Survive however and get to bed soon after midnight. The party lasts not much longer and the motorbikes in the overflow bike park that my front garden has become leave with only a couple of visitors deciding to sleep in the portico – not drunk mind you, this has been a totally tee-total event (apart from my private quarters).