Page Text: Our day-trip in Lombok that led to a sharing of personal memories, local folklores and cultural learnings. Read on to find out more!
A cultural trip around Lombok
After hearing all the stories shared by Mr Irwan, we were quite excited to explore the island and understand a little more about the culture of the Sasak people. The married girl and I had a quick “English” breakfast of poached eggs and toast before heading out to meet Arun, the guesthouse staff who was also our guide for the day. Our driver was silent throughout the trip, probably due our language barrier. Nevertheless, he was friendly and got us some snacks which Sophia gladly ate along the way back.
Arun our guide and friend, with Sophia, posing over Tanjung Ann cliff.
Practical usage of the land
Arun was exceptionally sociable and quickly started introducing us to Lombok. Pointing to the vast padi fields that decorated the land, Arun shared that the yields were mainly harvested for domestic consumption, rarely exported (which we were informed again later at the traditional (Indra) village of the Sasak people). As we passed by some hills, Arun turned and asked, “What do you think people who live on the hilly area of the mountains, where the soil is often dry, do with their land?” I randomly looked at the hills which was now covered with vegetation that looked like shrubs or wild plants. “Erm…I’m not sure, maybe used for cattle grazing?” A feeble attempt at the question, even though I was quite sure that was definitely not what the land was used for. “There are two types of rice crops in Lombok, one that requires the water-logged fields to grow, and the other dry-seeded rice that could survive on dry land, which was often planted in the hills. This was to help increase the rice yield during the dry season and to maximize the land use in Lombok”. Another new piece of information for a tourist like me.
Water-logged padi-fields, ready for harvesting, decorated the landscape.
Stories of love, tradition and marriage
Along the way, we were stopped by a massive traffic jam with people streaming on both side of the car. “This is a wedding ceremony!” Arun exclaimed. We managed to catch a glimpse of the bride and the groom whom were both dressed in white traditional Sasak costumes, with a Sarong wrapped across their top. The groom was also carrying a huge Kris (dagger), which Arun explained was a symbol of protection that grooms provided for their brides. It was also a tradition that served a function in the past, as long distances between villages meant that the grooms had to carry their own weapons in case of enemy’s attacks.
Arun then explained to us that in Lombok, people can get married by “being stolen”, if the parents were not agreeable to the union between a couple. Similar to the idea of “elope”, young couples will get married in the middle of the night outside the village with the support of their close friends. After that, the “newly weds” will return to their villages to inform and seek their parents’ consent to proceed with the marriage. A formal ritual will then occur once the consents have been given. In the culture of the Sasak people, it was difficult for parents to reject the marriage due to the stigma associated with women who had been “stolen”. Arun shared that his wife and himself went through a stolen marriage to get together, as their parents were not very supportive of their union. Though relationships with his parents-in-law used to be tensed, the birth of his daughter has helped reconciled the relationships. It was an interesting cultural exchange from Arun, given that Sophia and I were also planning for our wedding back then. The idea of “being stolen” tickled me for a moment.
Banyemulek, a small village in the global world
Not long after, we reached our first destination, Banyamulek. Arun pointed out that Banyamulek used to be a pottery village in the past, where every household made potteries for living. Today, there are a few pottery factories in the village still engaged in the trade. He led us into a building where we found ourselves standing in a room filled with handmade pottery products, from vase, to ornaments, to coasters, to teapots and all. Most of the potteries are shipped to the Middle-east for sale, said a lady who walked into the store to greet us. It was amazing to imagine how the pottery seated in the store in this little village might be ending up in some mega-malls in the Middle-east shopping districts.
The shop lady informed that Turkish buyers ordered in large quantity and exports them overseas.
A shop lady brought us to a counter and presented to us what looked like a “teapot”. There was no opening at the top, but a large hole at the bottom of the pot. With the teapot inverted, she took some water and started pouring into the hole. Then, like a confident magician, she flipped the teapot around and started pouring water from the stout. No water spilled out from the bottom of the vase, despite the big gaping hole at the base. Grinning, she knew her trick worked as I was immediately attracted to the teapot (which I ultimately got from her in the end). Arun explained that the ‘teapot’ was called Kendil Maling, which also meant burglar, as water entered from the back, like a burglar entering a house through the backdoor.
We were then led to the back of the store where a few women sat on stools. “Go ahead and make one” Arun encouraged. We sat down and got started on our own little pottery. Throughout the 15 mins, I was busy trying to talk to the ladies with my limited knowledge of Bahasa Melayu, instead of making the pottery. We laughed trying to help each other comprehend each other, and of course, I learnt that my Melayu was nowhere near understandable.
Learning to make pottery, and reliving my younger days when I was actively doing arts and craft work.
Sukarara Village – The weaving village
We reached our second destination, also known as the Sukarara Village. A local guide brought us around the village, which was a very short and simple tour. Nevertheless, it was interesting to look at how weaving made up the entire economy of the village. Noticing that only the women were busy weaving in the village, while the males sat around in groups and chit-chatted, I asked the guide politely about the gender segregation of roles. The guide explained that only women were allowed to weave, and in the culture of the Sukarara, women who could not weave will have difficulty finding partners. It seems to be quite a tedious job as the women wove each thread manually to form the traditional batik. Sophia got her hands on it, and I’m glad she managed to weave a few threads. “Better learn how to weave, if not no marriage for you next year!” I gave my boldest threat to her in a light-hearted way.
Every household, you’ll see someone weaving. But it is all women doing the work.
Children start from young, selling their woven piece to the traders who come and order in bulk from the villagers.
Sophia getting her hands at weaving. But wonder what’s the little girl thinking at the back.
The cultural heritage of the Sasak people
The last cultural trip was to visit a traditional village of the Sasak people. We visited a traditional house that was made with cow “dung” and mud. It was a simple house with no rooms or any partition. The door was low and the ceiling was made of straw grass. An old benevolent looking grandma sat on the porch right in-front of the house, and some photos of the granny decorated the entrance to the place, giving the place a warm and homely feel. Remembering what the guide said about giving respect to the owner before entering, I turned and gave my widest smile to the granny, greeting her “Selamat Tengah Hari Macik!” (Good afternoon auntie!). She looked happy at my greeting and smiled, revealing the few teeth that she had left. Despite looking like an old and frail granny, she was a hipster at heart. The granny beckoned for me to take a photograph with her while at the same time assessing whether I fitted into her definition of healthy young man by squeezing my arm and shoulders. I must have passed her assessment because she kept giving me the thumbs up sign. I was shock when she raised her “lets rock” hand gesture.
Young at heart, she is really a delightful old lady.
We took some photos with her, and took a tour around her place. It was clean and neat and everything was nicely hung in place on the walls, including utensils such as ladle and spoons. Sacks and sacks of rice was piled up at a corner of the room. Despite the dung used in the construction, there was no smell. I was impressed how little they needed and how tidy everything was kept in place. We also found out that couples in the Sasak did not sleep together except for times when they wanted to be intimate (which the guide said was not often). The husband slept outside the house at the porch, while the women slept in the huts. Children will usually sleep together with their mother in the huts, and once the couple had children, it got even harder for intimacy. This was a totally different culture from us, and made me wonder how love is defined in the traditional villages of Lombok. We walked through the village and identified the traditional houses of the Sasak people. The tall “horse-shoe” shaped roofs stored rice crops, and also provided resting areas for the people. It must have been an important symbol as many of the modern buildings in Lombok replicated its design.
A traditional storage space. The crops are kept under the huge roof of the structure.
A traditional Sasak house from the outside, made of clay and cow “dung:
Stacks of rice, only additional are sold
An overview of the neat and simple home
One of Lombok Fantastic 4 – Tanjung Ann
“Walk barefoot on distant sands, amid the brightly painted boats at rest”
Connor Reade (1932 – 99)
The trip was scheduled to end with a beach visit. “You must definitely visit Lombok’s Fantastic 4, Selong Belanak, Mawun, Kuta and Tanjung Aan beach. It is like our Lombok’s 4 treasure!” proclaimed Arun as we asked him where will we be heading to. “It is not like Kuta Bali, so many people and so much drugs”. Indeed, Kuta Lombok still offers sandy white beach with deep blue water. The beach was also relatively quiet, just a couple of tourists who biked their way over. I noticed that unlike Senggigi or Gili, there were no guesthouses, shops or restaurants around the beaches. In fact, Arun informed us that the government has cordoned off and pull-down guesthouses that used to stretched along some of these beaches, so as to conserve the natural landscape for the locals.
We drove on for another 15 minutes to Tanjung Ann, through some badly paved roads, alongside tourists who slung their surf boards at the side of their bikes. Arun pointed to a pond along the way, and shared that buffalo races are conducted here every year and men who owned buffaloes will take part. I was a little surprised due to the depth of the water. Arun must have caught it as he quickly explained that the water will be shallower during the dry season when the competitions were held.
Suddenly, the path opened to a lagoon guarded by two green hills to its left and right. The water was turquoise blue and the sand… Arun grabbed a handful of the sand, and showed it to us. “Pepper-grain.” He said. Each grain was round that looked like pepper. But under the feet, it still felt soft and smooth.
Sand in the form of pepper-grains.
We walked down the white sandy beach and I jumped into the turquoise blue water for a swim. The water was deep. Just as we were relaxing by the beach, Arun walked over with two coconuts in his hands. I felt bad having him serve us our drinks, and thanked him repeatedly. It was a good way to end the trip. After an hour or so, we decided to make our way back. We took out our Polaroid camera and took two photos with Arun, one which we gave to him. I’ve never seen anyone who appreciated the photo so much as he repeated thanked us and claimed that this will really cheer his daughter up. It moved me to see him appreciate such a simple gift and his constant thoughts about his family, especially his daughter.
Mesmerizing Tanjung Ann beach. It felt like we had the whole beach to ourselves.
A tale of a princess and a cliff.
Arun insisted that we stopped one last destination before heading back. It was just 10 minutes’ drive from Tanjung Aan. He stopped at a beach outside a resort. The beach looked as equally magnificent as Tanjung Aan. “This,” he said, “is Mandalika beach”. According to legend, Princess Mandalika was a beautiful princess of Lombok. She was so astoundingly beautiful that it attracted princes from different kingdoms. Kingdoms threatened war in order to ask for her hand. Facing the brink of a war occurring between kingdoms, her father asked Mandalika to choose amongst her suitor. Mandalika knew she was left with no options. The burden of her decision was heavy and will ultimately lead to the war amongst kingdoms.
To announce her decision, Mandalika invited all the princes and kings to the cliff that now overlooked the Indian Ocean. On that fateful day, she turned to the crowd and jumped off the cliff without making any decision. Her body was never found despite the King’s effort to search for her remains. Rumours was that her body had turned into sea worms that was a source of food for the people. To commemorate Mandlika’s sacrifice, a ceremony was held every year at the Mandlika beach, where villagers will gather to look for sea worms and make offering to the princess. Arun pointed to what was left of the cliff after years of erosion, and showed me the place where Princess Mandalika was said to have jumped. It was strange to me when I first heard that her body turned to sea worms but I guessed sea worms must have been useful for the people in the past. Nevertheless, it was a fascinating story to me.
Arun sharing the story about the Mandalika princess, and what is left of the cliff today.
Taking a photo on the remnants of the Mandalika cliffs. People will gather around to celebrate and commemorate the Mandlika princess here each year.
We made it back by nightfall, exhausted. It was a long day, but a good way to end our trip in Lombok, having at least seen something different from the beaches and the mountains, and learning about the stories and traditions of the local people
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