A mighty Wonderful Volcano, Mount Merapi


The Sizzle-tone of an outmoded radio made me wake up. I got a dizzy and rather a bit disturbed by that noise. I tried to recall what come about to me last night. I arrived a bit late to Yogyakarta. My friend, Dwi picked me up at 11 pm o’clock at train station of Tugu. Night grow colder. We was heading to Sleman, to the northen of yogya, by motorcycle.

“Indra, my grandfather’s house is quite nearby from Mount Merapi. In early morning, we’ll have a stroll to location that quite close with slope of Mt. Merapi. We can see clearly the face of the dusty Merapi”. He said while riding on motorcycle

“Great. I have been waiting for this moment” I replied so excited

223016_2251860386737_952888_n

Dwi is my colleagues in my college. He is a Javanese descent. But his childhood has been spent and raised in Banjarmasin, the capital city of South Borneo. His father has a duty job there. During on campus holiday, Dwi decided to stay at his grandpa’s house for a while instead of going back home to banjarmasin. He told me that he rarely visited his grandpa during his life time. They are separated away by the distance and ocean for a long time. Grandpa is in Java Island and dwi is in Borneo Island. Well, I think it is a reasonable excuses. So when he get on vacation, he attempts to give his quality time by visiting and spoiling his grandpa.

About thirty minutes on the road, we arrived His grandfther’s home. So dark. I felt like surrounded by scary atmosphere. the lights had been extinguished. His grandpa’s house look like a such old traditional house of Javanese, Joglo. Rather vintage. When I came into the inner of the house, All family members had been sleeping in early two hours before, maybe. This house hasn’t enough room so I inevitably must share a bed with his grandpa. Yeah, I , dwi and his grandpa were united in one bed. His grandpa didn’t realize if I was next him. He snored together with a still switched on-radio. The program was broadcasting an old style drama that is accompanied by scary sound. Sometimes it was similiar with the giggling-voice of Kuntilanak. Once in a while, a roaring owl-sound hit rolling in the deep  my ears. Although it seemed horror, I could sleep easily.

 The sizzle-tone of an old fashioned Radio made me wake up. I looked into my watches. It was on 4 o’clock. I turned off the radio. The broadcast had ended long time ago while I was on sleeping. I saw Dwi wasn’t besides me. not long after, Dwi entered room. His face looked wet. He told me that a night already changed into a dawn. I went to bathroom and flushing my some part of body and then drifted into a morning prayer. As he promised me, he brought me heading to the close of Mount Merapi’s slope. We went out home. The village-street visibly still flooded. It might be raining last night. After a 15 minutes-walk, I saw the summit of Mt Merapi from the distance. The peak appeared so hazy  a bit. Rather misty.

216661_2251861826773_7972860_n

Living in the shadow of Mt Merapi is like waiting for time bomb. The eruption of Mount Merapi always give a big attention in our national television broadcast. The once living Mbah Maridjan, at the end passed away because rushed by the hot ash of it. But his honour, of course, will never be forgotten by local people for protecting them from the anger of Mount Merapi. Due to its frequently erruption, The Sultan of Yogya recently try to convince the inhabitants that live quite close with Mount merapi for moving away their homes. The Sultan Of yogya has already built  hundreds of free of charge-houses . But they refuse this program at all. They have befriended with this mountain and consider the erruption as normal natural phenomena. After erruption, Mount Merapi spew lava to the slope and flooding farms. It will give essential nutrient to the soil and fertilize it. a miracle is behind the disaster. For appreciating the kindness of mount Merapi, the inhabitants give offerings annualy to make calm down the spirits guarding this mountain.

Dwi, accept my condolences for your lovely grandpa. RIP. Sorry for a long delayed-posting🙂

Tentang Indra

Civil Servant and Independent Traveler
Galeri | Pos ini dipublikasikan di My Adventure dan tag , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Tandai permalink.

Tinggalkan Balasan

Isikan data di bawah atau klik salah satu ikon untuk log in:

Logo WordPress.com

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Logout / Ubah )

Gambar Twitter

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Logout / Ubah )

Foto Facebook

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Logout / Ubah )

Foto Google+

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Logout / Ubah )

Connecting to %s