Ssssshh, and turn out the lights!

Yup, it’s that time again, Bali will be closed when the island celebrates Nyepi or the Day of Silence today to celebrate the Hindu Saka Lunar New Year of 1931.



The complete silence today is far removed from the hullaballoo of yesterday when the parade took place. Traditionally hundreds of Ogoh-ogoh (papier-mache dolls), are carried through the streets to force the bad spirits to flee and get rid of other “bad vibes” lingering on the island.

The Balinese claim that it is a way of setting the universe to rights, restoring the balance of the universe and creating a state of “somya” (perfect peace) for today’s activities which can be described as the day they do fuck all.!



The three main gateways to Bali, Ngurah Rai International Airport, the Gilimanuk ferry crossing and the Padang Bai ferry crossing all closed either late last night or early this morning and the populace stop almost everything (this includes all activities involving lighting fires, working, traveling,looking for entertainment, watching TV, Facebook, Play Station, ripping of tourists, selling dodgy real estate and purveying the traditional salmonella flavoured satay).

As with most things in Indonesia, there is a religious body involved, the Hindu arm of the the State Department of Religious Affairs (Parisadha Hindu Dharma Indonesia), who’s job it is to oversee the celebrations.

In addition, patrols are in place, roaming both town and village, seeking silence breakers, lamp lit houses, and not surprisingly issuing fines for such infractions. It used to be that Nyepi was a day of self control and mental cleansing, it seem’s to have become considered as one Balinese put it “ an exercise in cultural discipline, and an occasion for ethnic tensions to be resolved -- at least for one day -- by the rule of law and the threat of violence.”

This religious bureaucracy is also now responsible for approving "Nyepi dispensations," allowing hospitals and ambulances to continue operations, and for monitoring air traffic control to ensure only emergency landings and take off’s at Denpasar.

Surprisingly, there is a green “plus” . The state electricity company (the same crowd that ask for a bribe to reconnect my power when they cut a cable) monitored power usage on Bali last year and calculated that the days indolence saved three billion rupiah (US$326,087), while, using the figures for transport, an estimate figures that 200,000 vehicles and 80 commercial aircrafts were prohibited from operating.

This resulted in the reduction of carbon emissions of between 20,000 and 30,000 tons.

But, all that aside, Nyepi has also become a major tourist attraction with the luxury hotels offering Nyepi packages, aimed at tourists, expats who reside in Bali (and who cannot stand the idea of a day without electricity) and ironically, wealthy Balinese whose “somya” cannot be gained in the absence of first class food and accommodation.



Best of both worlds, choose which one you want to inhabit while gaining "Carbon Credit.

Gong Xi Fat Choi

Which says it's time for Chinese New Year....

A girl I know called Kristine in the USA had mentioned that she was jealous of my living here and I promised to get some Lion Dancing / Chinese New Year photo's so...



Without needing to be told one can tell Chinese New Year is on it's way as lanterns appear in the streets.



The Red and Gold envelopes which traditionally contain money as gifts decorate Hotel lobbies throughout Jakarta.

Last night the "Green Leaf" in Pondok Indah announced that they would have Dragon Dancing in the car park area.

The costumes were laid out in preparation.



I was wondering if he knew how to tie his claws...



Unfortunately most of the performance took place inside. (Loved the kid at the side in this shot)



Through doors festooned with (illegal) firecrackers the dragons entered



The main show was not due to start for another 3 hours but, the performers put on a taster for the public.



There is a story being told but I am buggered if I know what it's about.



The locals seemed to understand it and I think this guy was passing a tip to the two kids inside.

It would have been good to stay a while longer but if I had stayed in the bar for another three hours it may not have mattered as I would have been to smashed to watch the rest!

Chop, Chop, Chop, Snip!

A good friend of mine (whom I do not see often enough) lives in Bali with his beautiful wife. The two of them are great company and he has one of the strangest sense of humour that I have ever encountered.

Their relationship has been rocky, not anything to do with themselves, more interference from his wife's family and their reluctance to admit him into it.

He has a barcode tattooed on the back of his neck, a strange propensitiy for every thing that can go wrong going wrong and a smile that breaks even the darkest gloom!

Here's what happened to him this week in preparation for his upcoming second wedding (the Islamic one) where it looks like the family may finally acept the fact that thay are in love!  

Look's like it will be a cracking wedding! Also, knowing John he probably got the wrong procedure......

I must admit, I've been debating whether or not to write about this. It's not an easy topic to discuss at the best of time, and it would be fair to say it's something of a sensitive subject (I'd say 'ha ha' at this point, but I'm really not in the mood).

You see, on Wednesday I got circumcised.


OK, by this point anyone that really doesn't want to know will have stopped, left the room and is probably concentrating very hard on something - like by doing weights and such.

The reasons are obvious. 1, my wife is a Muslim, and as part of getting married to her I have to undergo a few changes. 2, I live in Bali which is a really hot country, and for hygiene it's a rather good idea. No one wants to talk to someone with that kind of itch.

So the appointment was made for 10 am. I canceled my private classes for the day, and sat down to have a really good thing about something else for the 2 weeks leading up to the big event.

The day arrives, and Tia gives them a call to confirm.

"Hi, I'm ringing to advise that Pak John is still coming in for his 10 o'clock appointment"
"Who? We don't have anything down here."
"Why not? You were the guys that gave us the time!"
"Erm, sorry. We can squeeze you in at 12?"

So I have an extra 2 hours to wait. I'm trying not to think about the whole situation as you might expect, and a delay at this point is not something I'm pleased about. Finally the time comes and we get into a taxi. 

We drive for a bout 10 minutes, and then turn down a little side road and pull up outside a house. A house - not a clinic, but an actual house. This is when I really start to worry. It's exactly the kind of little side of the road Doctor that you see all over Indonesia's cities. Just somebody's garage, usually.

My mind is awash with a plethora of images. I expect to be taken off by some guy that looks like a grubby, short-sighted Gandhi, and led into a darkened garage. Coils of hose pipes litter the floor, and there are small piles of screws and nails and metal scratchings over any available surface. 

Rusty power tools come to mind, and then I see them too sitting off in one heavily stained corner of the room. There's an arid smell to the air, and it's so thick that I can taste it. Then I notice an area that has been hastily cleared, and an old, well-used wooden chopping board. It's stained. It looks like someone was cutting some fresh steak on it, but then forgot to clean up for several weeks. 

That doesn't bother me so much as the rusty steak knife that's lodged in it. The knife changes as I look at it, the image varying as my fear conjures up even more original and exciting method of torture. There's a clever, and then a katana; even a circular saw at one point. 

But my imagination finally settles on a rather brutal looking machete. All of these are rusty, of course. Just underneath the edge of the table is a small pile of what I can only describe a distressingly organic 'scraps'. Gandhi tells me not to worry. "I be doing this 80 years long Pak John" he says, whilst looking me directly in the right ear. 

My eye is drawn to movement. In another corner of the room is a pile of...something, underneath a tarpaulin. There's something sticking out of it. Something familiar. What is...is it..is that..? Is that someone's elbow? "Very high rate success" Gandhi says. What does that mean? I look over at him and without realising it, point to the tarpaulin. So looks confused, and then shrugs saying "Not worry Pak John. 3 times is charming, yes?".

I'm shaken out of my meandering by my wife, who's getting bored of waiting.

"What's up?"
"They have a powercut. So we're waiting" (I'm thinking that a machete doesn't need power)
"So what now?"
"They're going to take us to the clinic to do it"

Well, thank God and sonny Jesus for that, thinks I! No more machetes. It'll be the laser, like it was meant to be. Yes, that'll put me off ever watch Goldfinger again, but at least it 'sounds' modern and hygienic!

So we wait a bit more. There's not much to do, so I glance over to the Indonesian language newspaper of the table, despite being unable to read Indonesian. Practice makes perfect right? 

And I need something else to think about. 

The Radar Bali, it's called, but I soon stop when I realise that it's choc full of words with 'c', 'o' and 'k', roughly in that order. The last think I need to be reminded off. So instead, I close my mind to everything, and just think of nothing.

The sound of a clock gently ticking has always been a comfort to me. I've often suspected that it's because of the sound. To me, it's always sounded like an axe. As a child I found this a comfort. My Dad is a tree surgeon, so the sound of an axe hitting wood reminded me of him. Possibly. Well, whatever, I like the sound.

chop.

chop.

Chop.

Chop!

CHOP!

CHOP!!

CHOP!!!

CHOP!!!!!

Argh! Suddenly I'm not so comfortable. MUST THE WHOLE WORLD TAUNT ME!?! Finally the guy comes to take us to the clinic. Another quick 10 minute drive to the clinic. The clinic doesn't have a/c, and I've just spent an hour in a house with no power in 30+ degree heat, on a day when sweating is inevitable. 

So we can't do it there then. No matter! We'll do it at home on the bed! Lovely. And I can watch a DVD while we do it. Deep Joy.

We get back home, and I'm told to lie on the bed. Tia is now asking (repeatedly) "Do you want me to stay? I can stay if you want me to. I can go if you want me to". She end's up staying. There are two doctors here to help. "You can put on a DVD to help you relax" one says TO TIA!

Out comes the anesthetic. Down go the shorts and pants.

"Oh! You haven't shaved."
D'oh!
"It's OK, you can do it afterwards"

Brace yourself John. Here comes the injection. Que three injections - not as bad as I expected. I knew it wouldn't be. Happily, the psychological trauma that leads up to the event more than makes up for it. There are three injections, mind. And then comes what I can only describe as the "rubbing". To get it all into my system. At least, I hope to Christ that's why he did it!

I feel strange. There's a strange whining, ringing sound in my ears, and every thing starts to look a little faded; edges of objects in the room have gone blurry. I feel a little dizzy. And then my heart...explodes. It feels like the time I drank 5 red bulls in a row. It's like a crazed, homicidal manic that's been locked up in HMP Belmarsh for 30 years desperately trying to break free through my rib cage. In short, I feel shit.

"The anesthetic should have made you feel a little funny" says Doc 1.
Thanks for the head's up. 'Should have'? You couldn't have told me before it happened?
"It should feel OK after 3-5 minutes".
Indeed it does.

I get a second round of injections which "shouldn't hurt as much as the first round". LIES!! It's still no worse than an inoculation, but still. After another 15 minutes of acute 'rubbing' it's time to get down to it.

Que a deep sense of dread.

Out come the clamp, which look rather like the long nose pliers my Dad used to use when fishing. Everything is moved into place.

"Do you want to watch? You only get the chance to see this once" asks Doc 2. That's fine and all, but once may be too much. I do look though, because I'm cursed with curiosity. Looking at the clamps I think - and may have said - "that should hurt". Out come the scissors.

"Hang on, what about the lasers?"

That's just the name of this method. There aren't really any lasers"

False advertising, surely?

...
...
snip

And I swear, it was the most unusual mixture of feelings. Horror; fear; sadness; the ever-present curiosity; surprise at the lack of pain. They're all there for the trip. And then the scissors go down. Just that one tiny snip? Something's missing...

My Mum loves her arts and crafts. Every year we get birthday and Christmas card which are hand made - and I must admit, very well. She has this really odd tool for cutting polystyrene.Essentially, it's a bit of fuse wire that's connected to a 9v battery. It heat's the wire, and then you can use the wire to cut the polystyrene.

Now imagine the same thing, but connected to the mains. This is what is known as a 'laser' in the exciting world of 'having a bit of your willy cut off'.

I don't know if you've ever smelt burning flesh, unless there's a large percentage of anomalous Vietnam veterans among my readership, but it's not pleasant. When you know where the burning flesh is, and it's something 'close' to you, it's a whole lot worse - believe me.

Guy Ritchie's Snatch is loaded and started.

And then it was off. Tia asks if she can keep it, and thankfully is told '"no" (this doesn't stop her trying to tell me that she's put it on my pizza later). And then I'm stitched up which takes another hour.

All in all, the whole process took 90 minutes - not the 30 minutes I was promised. The anesthetic lasted for another 4 hours, and then it started to ache, and then just feel sore. Wearing trousers is about as fun as stabbing yourself in the eye with a pencil.

I'm told it'll take 5 days or so to heal. During this time, I have to put up with something that looks like Frankenstein's monster in my trousers.

The things we do for love, eh? I hope Tia is satisfied.

Thank you for sharing that with us ...... Note to self, never eat Pizza with John and Tia!

All the fun off the fair - on wheels

I see these guys all the time, basically a mobile fun-fair with the bicycle powering the ride....Indonesian inventiveness never stops amazing me!



These guys ride around al day, traversing the kampung's looking for business from mothers who are stuck in the house all day.



It may not seem much of a ride to westerners, but, having seen the look on the kids faces when the funfair guy arrives, Indonesian kids love it.



If anyone knows what these guys are called and why, let me know!

Balinese Bestiality (and how to cure it)

Once again the Jakarta Post never fails to thrill.

In today's edition, this little gem unveiled itself, both amusing and sad at the same time (Sad for the cow) and shed a little more light on the belief's and cultures in Bali.

Villagers from Julah in Tejakula, Buleleng, towed a pregnant cow behind a boat into open sea as part of a local traditional ritual.

The cow, which was five months pregnant, was thrown out into the sea about 3 kilometers from land on Monday. The villagers believed the animal was impregnated by a village elder.

During the ritual the man, who was caught red-handed having sexual intercourse with the cow two months ago, joined the boat trip in order to throw away his clothes to to symbolize him discarding his sins.

Julah customary village head Ketut Sidemen said the ritual, called gamya gamana, or freak weeding, had been conducted there for generations. The decision to perform the ritual was agreed at a local residents meeting.

In line with customary regulations, the perpetrator, identified only as PS, 70, was sanctioned to fund the expensive ceremony, which aimed to cleanse him of any bad influences.

Luh Ketut Suryani, a professor and activist, deplored the sancation against PS.

She said drowning a cow was baseless because sexual intercourse between a human being and an animal could not cause pregnancy due to the different chromosomes and genes of the two.

"The cow is not guilty, why should it be drowned? Why don't just use a symbol like what was done by the perpetrator?" she said.

Suryani said she was concerned with the financial situation of the owner, who lives below the poverty line.

"The cow, which has a high price, had to be thrown away. It will be a pity for the owner, who is already poor and is now forced to lose his priceless belonging."

What gets me about the whole sordid affair was:

a) They have a ceremony for people who have been caught and found guilty of bestiality.

b) What happened to all the beautiful women that Bali is supposed to have?

Certainly one of the stranger ones this year!

Mass Knob Chopping in Suburbia

Remember this....(Last paragraph)



Well it took place this morning and I think it will be going on for a while. Being inquisitive and having been invited I decided to walk the 200 metres to the park and find out what it was all about!

The park had a number of tents erected (no pun intended)and the parents waited until it was their kids turn and watched the entertainment.



For most Indonesians, (Musim or Non Muslim) circumcision is a very important tradition. In terms of tradition, for most Javanese boys, 11-12 years old is the time for the circumcision but, for others, such as the Sundanese boys are circumcised younger than the Javanese boys, at about 5-6 years old.

For the waiting kids, clowns and ballon twisters provided a distraction....



Some of the kids present were not quite aware of why they were there, almost in an "Are we there yet" way, unsure of what was coming next!


My Indonesian friends at work informed me that for the kids it's the happiest time because they think that they'll soon be "big boys".

First thing required is to check the timetable to know when the chopping will take place...



Traditionally parents give their newly-circumcised sons a party on the day the boys are circumcised. Their relatives, friends and, neighbors come to the party with presents or gifts for the boy. This collective knob chopping was a way to defray the overall expense to the families.



Sanitary arrengements were in my opinion a little on the "low side" especialy considering that one's best friend is about to get mutilated!



Some of the kids looked allright after the ordeal...



While others were not so lucky and needed a bit of help!



To be honest, it looked as though only the parents and adults were happy bout the whole deal.



Once the cutting was over, it was back to the entertainment area and then the kids were called up to get a "goody box" the contents of which I am unaware but the participants seemed happy enough!



Again, my workmates told me that young boys regularly ask their parents repeatedly about the day they will be circumcised. They hope it will soon come so they can be big boys and get many presents.

When it was all over, the remnants were disposed off in the same area where the surgical instruments were being prepared



I cannot say that it was a pleasant experience for me, I felt a bit like a voyeur, watching something I should not have been, but the Indonesians present were happy about the whole affair, it seemed to be a Grand Day Out for the family.

On the negative side, the music was quite loud, had to be really because over in the cutting tents there was a fair bit off squealing and crying going on.....

The alternatve is to go private and, as I discovered Circumcision is big business here in Jakarta, as this website testifies (NSFW, some of the pictures are less than palatable)

http://www.rumahsunatan.com/_galerifoto.php

Will I be going next year....dont think so!

You- Dirty Rat! (Apologies to James Cagney)

Jakartass today posted this on the problems facing certain area's of Bali this morning which prompted me to report further on this issue

Disappearance of Predators

I found this in the Jakarta Post this week, but due to a severe bout of Gastro-Enteritis my mind has been otherwise focused. (Further details on this situation have been kept secret in the interest of dignity, I await that moment when I can fart and cough with impunity!)

Once again, Bali demonstrates it's unique way of problem solving in ways that we would consider "off the wall"

It has to be considerd that the Hindu Religion views rats differently from other religions and kiling and poisoning are considered last resorts.(See below with Ganesh the Elephant God astride a Rat) Another factor is that the Balinese have been eradicating the natural predators in the fields (Snakes and Owls) by either killing them (in the case of snakes) or stealing the young from nests (Owls for sale)



How to tame rats, the spiritual way

The procession moved slowly along a narrow path through the middle of a flat landscape filled with rows of rice fields on the outskirts of Riang Gede village, Tabanan. The atmosphere of the procession was a bit somber.

It wasn't a procession to mark a religious festivity or a temple's anniversary. On the contrary, the procession on Aug. 1 was part of a ritual to save the rice fields from the ongoing terror of rats infestation.

Despite its somber overtone, the procession, with dozens of Balinese in traditional attires and carrying colorful offerings, set against the clear blue sky and the green rice field was simply mesmerizing.

A few meters behind the front tip of the procession, Ida Cokorda Anglurah Tabanan sat solemnly on a wooden throne resting upon the shoulders of several men. He is the current traditional ruler of the regency and the direct descendant of the Tabanan kingdom founder.

A large number of Balinese still believe that their royalties, particularly the kings and their direct descendants, possess supernatural powers that set them apart from common people.

The powers were bestowed upon them by the divine deities that protect the kingdom. Physical invincibility, which renders a king immune to any weapon, and the ability to ward off plagues are among the most common supernatural powers attributed to kings.

That afternoon, Ida Cokorda Anglurah Tabanan, re-enacted the role of his ancestors to protect his people from a plague that threatened their crops.

As the procession moved on, Ida Cokorda Anglurah Tabanan repeatedly sprinkled tirta (holy water) on the ground and rice fields around him.

Earlier in the morning, the tirta was empowered in a brief ritual at the village's temple. In the ritual, all the villagers prayed together, imploring the gods and deities to transfer their powerful blessings to the tirta.

When the ritual ended, the villagers were ready to start the procession, which forms the main part of the Nangluk Merana (literally means to conquer the pests).

"The ritual is our last effort to cope with the rats that destroyed our last harvest," the Bendesa (chief of traditional customary village) Riang Gede, Wayan Sudiarsa told The Jakarta Post.

He said that during the last harvest, the farmers were only able to salvage 30 percent of their total crops.



"I usually manage to get one ton of rice from my 25 acres of rice field. However, in the last harvest I only get 300 kilograms of rice," said a farmer, Wayan Artawa.

The village has a population of 730 households and most of the families' livelihood are heavily dependent on the village's 270 hectares of rice fields.

The rats infestation didn't end last harvest. Instead, it has been intensifying over the last three months.

"We planted new seeds three weeks ago, but most of the seeds have been eaten by the rats," the head of Riang Gede administrative village Dewa Gede Putu Arya said.
The ritual, according to Arya, was the village's last resort.

"We have done everything we can, from chasing and killing the rats to using poison. But nothing has worked so far. So today we are conducting the Nangluk Merana ritual to ask to the deities to help us control the rats," he said.

He added that most Balinese believed that if they could not settle a problem by sekala (the physical, real world) ways, they should try niskala (the unseen, spiritual) ways.

He added that the village had conducted similar rituals several times in the past and they had proven to be effective.

"Our ancestors have conducted similar ritual years ago and believe it or not it had always succeeded in taming the rats," he said.

"We hope this ritual will also work this time,"

The more I find out about Bali, the more it intrigues me.....

Bizarre Bazzar

I got home last night and there was one of the usual bits of paper from the Residents Association with an invitation to a celebration to be held in a nearby Park.

I almost ignored it because it was in Bahasa Indonesian....



Then my eagle eyes spotted the translation, I read the document, realising that it was unlikely that I would attend and then.....I read the last paragraph!



WTF!!!!!!

I think I will definately avoid this one, but, if you hear the collective scream of hundreds of Indonesian boys from South Jakarta on the 23rd of August, I am sure you will now know exactly what caused it....

Bring out your dead....Bali Style

Bring out your dead was a line used in the Monty Python Film "The Holy Grail" however, it probably means something completely different in Bali!

There are few things that can be considered normal by westerners when discussing Bali, however, things get a little stranger when there is a funeral. A few weeks ago hundreds of thousands of people gathered in Ubud to participate in the cremation of two Balinese royals.

Here’s what the Indonesian News Agency Antara had to report…..

Ubud royal family head Tjokorda Gde Agung Suyasa, who died in March after a long illness, and lesser royal Tjokorda Gde Raka who also died in March, were cremated on a massive hand-crafted pyre representing the universe.



The hill town of Ubud, the cultural capital of mainly Hindu Bali, came to life before dawn with women wearing sarongs and traditional blouses carrying offerings of fruit on their heads to the royal palace.



Neighbourhood chiefs exhorted people over loudspeakers to wake up and get ready for the service, as men gathered at the palace to carry the huge pyre that will be paraded through town around midday.

"Each person has their job. For me, it's making coffee for people coming in. For the men, it's making the cremation towers," domestic worker Ni Made Rinun told AFP.

"Everyone works, no one is lazy," she added.

For months, the bodies of the dead royals have been waited on by relatives with offerings of food and coffee in bedrooms of the palace.


Most revered royal family

The royal family of Ubud, a hillside town famous as the heartland of traditional Balinese arts, is one of the most revered royal families on the island.

It is descended from royalty from the neighbouring island of Java who fled the fall of the Hindu Majapahit Empire in the 15th century.

At the start of the funeral procession, the bodies will be brought from the main temple where they have been lying in state since Saturday.



The bodies of 68 commoners, many also dead for months, were dug out of graves on the weekend and cremated in preparation to be included in the procession.

The royal remains will be loaded via bamboo and wood gangways into colourful papier-mâché towers called bade. The multi-tiered, demon-covered towers symbolise the three levels of the Balinese Hindu universe.

More than 200 men in traditional dress will heave each tower -- the tallest of which is 28 meters (92 feet) high -- onto their shoulders with bamboo slats, spinning the structures around to ensure the spirits of the dead are too disoriented to return home.



Also winding through the streets will be the Naga Banda, a seven-metre long "dragon" reserved for the highest royals and symbolising the wisdom of the royal family.

Lying symbolically between heaven and earth in the bade, the royals are paraded to the sound of traditional gamelan orchestras, a percussion instrument resembling a cross between a xylophone and a bell.



Then they are loaded into sarcophagi representing black bulls bedecked with gold foil, which are then wrapped in the Naga Banda.

The priest pours holy water on the bulls before they and the towers are set alight. Finally, the ashes are taken to Bali's eastern Sanur beach to be cast into the sea.

The cremation is intended to return the body to the fundamental elements of fire, air, water, earth and void. Smaller ceremonies then release the soul to reach oneness with God before, after a time, it is reincarnated.



"(The soul) doesn't stay in the body, it's probably around the body," explained Tjokorda Dge Raka Kerthyasa, the successor as Ubud's royal head.

"The process of cremation separates the attachment of the soul to the physical being, the world. I think... I haven't died yet so I don't know."

Tjokorda Raka Swastika, nephew of the late Ubud royal family head, said "only the blue bloods" were honoured with a cremation featuring the Naga Banda.

"(The family) is not only respected in Bali, we are related to the royal families in Java, South Sumatra, all over Indonesia ... Our family is respected by great people all over the world," he said.

Now, I don’t now about you, but the concept off exhuming 68 corpses, cremating them and then using them in the procession is just a bit weird, but, you cannot deny it, Bali is definitely “something else.!

Where do Condoms come from...

I attended a wedding in Bali last weekend and, in an attempt to keep certain members of the group off guests sober during the day on Saturday it was suggested that we take advantage of a guided tour around the west coast resort that we stayed in.

It was a "plantations" tour which showed how the Balinese had chosen to integrate a number of differing species in a single plantation rather than a mono culture with plantations each bearing only a single species. (Note, not a Bio Fuel Plantation in sight)



First things first it was decided a drink was in order and the coconut man was sent up the tree to hack a few fresh ones down..took him about 45 seconds to get to the top of the tree.



Out with the machete and instant refreshments all around.



Thirst free, he walked over to a rubber tree and opened the existing wound on the tree to allow the white sap to flow lazily down the cut and spiral downwards to the collecting cup.



The size of the cut is exactly right to create a drop rate of one drop per second into the cup.



After the "sap wound" dries up (each sapper "milks 300 tree's a day") the residue is collected and taken to the factory where the "rubber making" process starts in earnest.


The raw sap is poured into vats along with water and hydrochloric acid which makes the sap congeal into a less than recognisable pile off rubber shit.



This resultant goo is sent through two archaic presses to process the rubber into more manageable sheets.



Press number one sort of prepares it into a lumpy rectangular shape while press number two compresses it, ensuring all the water is removed and leaves a 1 cm thick sheet of latex rubber.



The resultant sheets are then laid out to dry in the sun. I may add here they fucking stink.



When dried, they are placed into a smoke room for four days and kept at a temperature of about 50 degrees C, curing the rubber.



The end result being raw rubber which is then sent as raw material to the rubber goods manufacturers of the world.



Packed into bales weighing 130 kg each they await collection...I noticed that nowhere in this process was there a fork lift, crane or pallet jack used. Everything was moved by hand and 130 kg is quite a weight. They manufacture one ton off rubber each day here!



So the next amourous moment you experience, just think off all that went into making that little "Anti Child Device" that you and your partner fumble with in the dark.