From Jakarta to Bandung

It was Sunday when I went to Bandung. In Indonesia, museums are also open on Sundays, but due to some repairs, the one in the Bandung Conference building is closed to visitors. The workers, who were working inside, opened the door for me and when I told where I came from, they found the curator, Nana Djajasoenpe, who took me through the rooms of the historic building. From April 18 to 24, 1955, the famous Bandung Conference of Asian-African countries was held there, which proclaimed respect for fundamental human rights in accordance with the principles of the UN Charter. There, twenty-nine countries of Asia and Africa declared for the complete abolition of colonialism and all racial segregation and discrimination in the world. The policy of coexistence was elaborated and formulated in ten principles. The conference brought a number of conclusions on economic and cultural cooperation, especially with regard to Asian and African countries.

Blažo also came

The curator of Đajasoenpe says that the recording of Tito's speech, which he gave at Bandung University on December 25, 1958, when he was awarded an honorary doctorate, is kept here.

Montenegrin President Blažo Jovanović was also staying with Tito in Bandung at the time.

In this city of two million people, founded in 1810, I stepped on volcanic dust, which is not uncommon in Indonesian cities. In the country, with 13.677 islands, there are three hundred volcanoes, fifty of which are active. The eruption of the Krakatau volcano, back in 1883, wiped out thirty thousand people living in the coastal part of South Sumatra and West Java.

Volcanoes are a frequent motif of Indonesian painters.

They delight in the beauty of Indonesia. Tradition says that this is the birthplace of Adam and Eve...

From Jakarta to Bandung, I traveled by car, on an asphalt but narrow road, two hundred kilometers long, over the picturesque, rolling mountains of Java; met old cars, dodge, chevrolet, ford, which could be seen on Montenegrin roads in the fifties of the XNUMXth century. Traffic is heavy; roadside studded house; as if you were walking down a long street. Fruit and vegetable stalls; pineapple slices, coconuts, drams of bananas, piles of eggs; and paintings: oil on canvas; Indonesian landscapes. The driver, Romsey, tells me that the rebels used to cross this road. Sometimes they attacked a convoy of several cars in the middle of the day, robbed the passengers, even stripped them of their clothes leaving them naked.

Rainforests begin not far from the road. The vegetation is extremely lush. There are endless sugarcane plantations in Java, and flowery Sumatra is also known for its excellent tobacco. Famous pearls are extracted from the Moluccan Sea...

Lifesaving coconuts

Heat; high air humidity, our mouths dry out. Salvation is coconuts. But how to get them. We stopped under a coconut tree, as tall as a multi-story building. One boy with a machete looked at us, then at the coconuts. Suddenly he stuck the machete behind his belt and skilfully climbed up the tree. He broke off a dozen coconuts that hit the ground bouncing as if they were made of rubber. The boy got down, deftly opened the tops of the walnuts and offered us to drink the coconut milk, which was white and cool under the thick skin.

While we drank the pleasant liquid, the boy watched us with satisfaction; his eyes were laughing.

It was a nice refresher on the long road, surrounded by tropical vegetation.

Tall bamboos, coconut palms, and corn sprouts by the windows of the huts. Wooden plow, ducks, chickens, goats.

Cockfight.

Women sit in shallow rivers and wash linen made of batik, with patterns from legends. Gulungu volcano can be seen through the haze.

In a rickshaw, like sardines, five little ones in brown pants and yellow blouses: students.

Boats of unusual shape, bright colors, colorful. Fruits of the warm Javanese sea in woven baskets... Lunch on the street from a small shop hanging on one's shoulder. Kites and puppets; marvelous tin figures, the mastery of Javanese goldsmiths. Wood carving furniture, like lace... Rice fields and women in them with big hats made of dried banana leaves and woven baskets on their backs. Knee-deep in water, bent over; they work hard to grow rice, the staple food of Indonesia...

Bamboo houses.

Miracle in Pandigla

And in the village of Pandigli, in East Java, they show the ancient art of Dubuš, where people, called Baduji, achieve through concentration and meditation that the blade of a knife cannot do anything to them. In a small room of the house with a dirt floor, thin, as hermits, came out one by one on the improvised stage. Baduj reached for a large machete, a machete, sharp as a razor (he demonstrated this by ripping off a lock of his hair) and began to cut his tongue. Except for a few tiny drops of blood that were cannulas, the tongue remained intact. The second came and hit his bare stomach hard with the blade of the machete. The large knife bounced off his abdominal muscles like rubber. Not a trace of a cut; only a few reddish francs. The third one ate five light bulbs as a joke, and acid from the battery was spilled on the back of the fourth one; his shirt fell to shreds, acid hissed, but his back remained intact. Then they continued poking the naked bodies with the needles.

For a month, they say, they prepare for this ritual and during that time they don't eat! They said that when I come the second time, they will show me a new miracle: they will cut off the head of one of them and then put it back on!

I wasn't coming.