JAVA—A Tropic Wonderland

Radio Record, Volume V, Issue 12, 2 October 1931, Page 3

JAVA—A Tropic Wonderland

A Talk Broadcast Recently from 3YA

by

L. R. R.

Denny

M.A., ER Hist S.

HEN first L planned my trip abroad, and the opportunity for giving rein to the

wanderlust actually came my way, I registered a vow that if I could possibly manage it, I would include at Teast a portion of the Far East in my travels. After a few disappointments in an endeavour to arrange satisfactory sailings, -I found in the Haymarket the London agency for the Rotterdamsche Lloyd Royal Mail Line, and finalised with them for a voyage on the Patria, bound for Batavia, and calling on her way at Tangiers, Marseilles, Port Said, Colombo, Sabang, Singapore, Belawan Deli, and finally Tandjong Priok and Java. Of my voyage I can say only this: That I was the only British-born subject from Port Said onward, and yet, such was the kindliness and good- -fellowship of the _ Dutch passengers, and the unfailing courtesy of the officers, that I never was permitted to have a dull moment. One’s first glimpse of the Malay Archipelago comes as one enters the very lovely densely-wooded harbour of Sabang on the little island of Poeloh Weh at the northern extremity of Sumatra. From there

the ship threads her way down the Malacca Straits, to Singapore, whence Batavia is less than two days’ sail. Sabang and Singapore are both free harbours.

Java is a land of contrasts. The primitive lives on here. in immediate contact with modern life, but apparently untouched by it. In Batavia the newest in automobiles speed up town and down town, along the Molenvliet Canal that connects the

new and the old sections of the city, and in the water that runs between those swirling currents of modern traffic, the Javanese modestly perform their daily ablutions as their

ancestors have done for hundreds of years. Motor trucks thunder down to the docks with the many products of Javanese agriculture, rubber, tea, rice, pearl tapi-

£2, sugar, coffee, quinine and so on, and beside them lumber native carts, drawn by slowmoving yokes of oxen. Enter a village and you will see the women pound the rice in large wooden mortars, and crush the juice from the sugar-cane with a primitive press which is turned.by a stolid ox, while nearby the machines of a hulling-mill or sugar factory are humming a song of modern efficiency in speed. In Middle Java, the Susuhunan of Solo, and the Sultan of Djokjakarta are still _ living the feudal life that age-long tradition ‘has consecrated, while around them are hundreds of menials who, when approaching their august persons, must creep in a squatting position. Economically and politically Java is

by tar tne most important island or the 4 guardian of the Shrine of @ i housand Suadnas.

Archipelago, but in size it is the smallest of the Greater Sunda Isles. It has an area of 50,000 square metres, which is about 44 timesthe size of Holland or, to bring it nearer home, is approximately that of the a haan

south Island of New Zealand. lhe population 1s 06,UUV,UUU. . Like the South Island, too, it is traversed by a range of mountains, but in Java these have active volcanic cones. The total number of volcanoes exceeds one hundred, but not all of them are active. NE of these, Mount Merapi, near the famous Boro Boedoer Temple, was in violent eruption not long after my visit. I had heard of Merapi and asked my guide to show it to me. My knowledge of Malay was by this time sufficient for my ordinary needs, but it could not cope with mountains. So we fell to signs, and by an ingenious but perfectly lucid system of signs with his hands, my Malay boy told me that Merapi was behind the clouds, but that when it was meal-time (midday) it would be visible. Hotels in the main tourist centres are extremely good. On account of the extreme heat they are architecturally different from the ordinary hotel. They are frequently planned in three blocks-administrative, social and dining-rooms in the centre, and private suites on either side. At the Hotel Preanger in Bandoeing, I had a comfortable and commodious.room, with telephone, the latest in lighting, and as always

one’s private balcony with easy-chairs and writing-desk at a price which compared favourably with New Zealand

prices. Mention of hotels brings to mind several interesting points. One is rijstafel, the meal which is almost

a parade. Another is the Uutch wite, the mention of whom scandalises the unsophisticated tourist, until

the secret is told. Yet another is the funny bathroom one sometimes stumbles upon. It contains a

copper full of ice-cold water set on a concrete floor. from which one ladles out one’s shower

while tjitjaks and gomboks and mosquitoes look on.

Among the kaleidoscopic panorama of pictures that come before the mind, one that stands out majestic and wonderful is the Boro Boedoer-the Shrine of a Thousand Buddhas. The journey from Djokja to its mountain home is one of gorgeous beauty, luxuriant and varied; and its ‘loveliness intensifies as one ascends the low hill out of which grows Boro Boedoer. Who built this masterpiece of human art and craftsmanship we do not know ; but in setting it in the Kedu plateau, rightly named the Garden of Java, with four im-

posing volcanoes skirting it as virile sentinels, they stamped themselves for all time as tremendously alert to the beauty that surrounded them.

Beneath a vault of blue sky is stretched a plateau brilliant with every shade of green, from the emerald of the young rice crops to the almost blue of the tropical (Concluded om page 31),

aN ‘Tropic Wonderland (Continued from page 3.) forest. Amid such surroundings the ancient builders selected, some twenty years before King Alfred made history in Wessex, a low hill, and on it and around it they raised a structure as massive as a pyramid, but representing an infinitely ‘finer achievement because on Boro Boedoer there are nearly two miles of sculptured bas-re-liefs rising terrace by terrace and telling the story of the Buddhist faith, It is magnificently conceived and executed. Apart from 1460 exquisitely sculptured reliefs, fully 10ft. tips, the be liever sees.as he turns each corner over 400 statues of the Buddha enthroned in,.niches. Finally. he leaves the stare terraces, where no longer does he find sermons in stones, but he has reached the realms of contemplation. AS I have written elsewhere, Borohidur is one with the infinite; it is a spiritual conception ; | religion expressing itself in beauty, there is over it the calm and. contemplation that invests a Gothic cathedral. I should like to tell you much more about native customs, .arts and crafts, their music and drama, but I .am afraid my time is drawing to an end. Perhaps at some future date I may be privileged to lift the veil a little on these fascinating topics. One could -make an interesting story out of the Atyeh proverb illustrating woman’s heaven is under the soles of her husband’s feet." If time permitted I should like to ell you about the terraced: rice fields and some of the legends and superstitious ceremonial attaching to the growth and replanting of the crop. it will be easier for me to say a word or two about the tea plant and its culture. The tea plant is quite hardy and can be grown on different soils, at varying altitudes, and under all kinds of climatic conditions. It thrives best in Java at 6000 feet above sea-level. Prodigious: quantities are produced, mainly in the Preangi Regencies. One fertile plantation of some 2000 acres produces 24 million lb. per year. The most delicate part of the work in the plantations is the plucking of the leaves, as this has to be done by hand. Only women are employed as pluckers, and their deftness is amuazing. Every shrub is plucked once in ten days and it is only the youngest leaves that are picked, three on a stalk of which the top one must still be fojgha. The lower leaves on even

young shoots are too old and hard to manufacture into tea. After being spread to wither for 24 hours, the next process is rolling in a rapidly rotating cylinder which breaks down the cells and liberates fragrant juices. Next comes what is called fermentation, but what is really oxidation. Their colour turns from green to yellow, and then to a bronze brown. After a second rolling and drying, mechanical sifters sort the tea into various grades and qualities. The London market, for example, demands a very finely broken tea; the Dutch prefer much coarser leaves, It is certainly an arresting thought to realise that every leaf in the teapot has been plucked by hand.