Arriving at the island of Lombok on the morning of February 24th

Fishing boats and curious islanders come out from Lembar Harbour on Lombok Island

Approaching the pier in Lembar


Welcome to Lombok


Rice paddies on Lombok Island


Planting new seedlings in a rice paddy—this was our introduction to tropical Southeast Asia

A portion of the Lingsar temple complex on Lombok Island

Squeek and Moss at Lingsar Temple, with animist statues in the background

A Father presents his new baby. . . .

A young woman prays. . . .

Squeekie shipping for fabric at the “pearl factory”

The native band at the Sayang Art Market

Squeekie looking but not touching at the Sayang Art Market.

Young woman producing batik cloth at the art market
Moss in front of a British bronze cannon from the reign of King George III

The little girl in the circumcision ceremony at the museum

The little boy in the circumcision ceremony at the museum

Squeek and Moss celebrate Mardi Gras


Day Thirty-six (Tuesday, February 24, 2009)-- After several days at sea we have at last arrived in Indonesia. Actually, we arrived late yesterday afternoon because of the medical emergency aboard ship which had caused us to briefly stop in Bali. Rotterdam had spent the night slowly cruising in the channel between Bali and Lombok which, Captain Olav had told us, has a number of mariners’ dangers such as reefs; but he and his bridge crew carried us through safely. As we woke up this morning we were greeted with the sight of Lombok Island, with its 12,224-foot high volcano pushing up on the skyline; it is Mount Rinjani, the third highest mountain in Indonesia, we were later told, which is active and last erupted in 1994.

As the mighty Rotterdam approached the harbour at Lembar, small boats came into view. Some of these were fishing boats, but others carried islanders curious to see our great ship. This was Rotterdam’s first visit to Lombok, and so Captain Olav had to go ashore to be greeted by the governor of the island and a celebration of native music and dancers. Lombok Island is off the main tourist routes and has seen very few large cruise ships such as ours. It was very interesting to visit this place still relatively untouched by modern tourism, and to watch how the locals reacted to contact with Westerners and attempted to do what tourists wished for.

A bit of history-- Lombok Island, one of the Lesser Sunda Islands, is immediately east of Bali. This island, which is largely circular and some 45 miles in diameter, has a population of some 3 million people. Because the only historical records come from oral traditions and archaeological finds, the early history of this island is unclear prior to the arrival of Europeans in the sixteenth century. It is known that the island once was divided into mini-kingdoms which tended to live in peace with each other much of the time. Yet the island also was subject to invasion, usually from the powerful rulers of the neighbouring island of Bali. Lombok’s earliest known religion was an animist belief system known as Boda which still persists among some residents in rural locations. There also was a degree of ancestor worship and a belief in a spirit world in which human priests could intervene and with which they could communicate. Hindu and Buddhist beliefs were imported to the island in the fourteenth century when Javanese King Majapahit conquered Lombok. Surprisingly, Islam was not imported until the sixteenth century. The Dutch first arrived in the late 1600s, but settled mostly on the eastern half of the island, leaving the western half (where we were visiting today) under the control of the King of Bali, a supporter of the Hindu faith. There continued to be both cultural and religious stresses between various groups on the island which culminated in open warfare between 1891 and 1894, when the Dutch intervened and annexed the entire island.

Our day-- This is a tender port, where Rotterdam anchors offshore and tender boats are used to carry passengers to and from the pier in the harbour. Because of the welcoming ceremonies ashore, and the distance between the ship and the landing dock, we had to wait the better part of an hour until our turn arose to take a tender ashore. The tender ride was picturesque, however. On the pier was a native band dancing and singing for us, and as soon as we passed through the welcoming gate we were confronted with pushy vendors who attempted to foist various items upon us. I absolutely detest such a situation and felt very uncomfortable as we were herded aboard our motor coach for our tour of “highlights” of the island.

We drove away from the port and through the small village of Lembar, into the agricultural heart of the island. This island was our introduction to tropical Southeast Asia, and we saw things such as rice paddies, farmers wearing coolie hats, and horse-drawn “cidomo” horse carts that we expect to see again in many places. Apparently, Lombok, thanks to its geographic location, gets sufficient rainfall to have a fine water supply and produces abundant amounts of rice, coconuts, fruits, and other staples necessary to support their large population. Everywhere we drove in the countryside we saw evidence of intensive farming, although our local tour guide, Tarik, told me that there are some native forests (jungles?) remaining in some areas of the island. As our bus drove along the paved but very narrow roads, Tarik told us about the local history and life on Lombok. His English was good enough to tell a reasonable story, but I had many questions about local history and culture which remained unasked and unanswered.

Our first tour stop was at a place called “Pura Lingsar,” built about 1714 and known to locals as the “unified” temple for prosperity because there are areas on the temple grounds for prayer to be made by Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, and Christians alike. This is in conformance with official Indonesian policy toward recognition of, and support for, all major religions. As we debarked from the bus we were confronted by numerous vendors offering a wide array of local items, from clothing to carvings and anything else in between, and we had to push through them, ignoring them or repeating “No!” “No!” constantly. I hate this more than anything, remembering the unpleasantries I endured in similar situations in Latin America years ago, but Squeek said that I had better learn to endure it because we will encounter it again and again for most of the remainder of the voyage. Ugh!!! This temple complex is very important to the people of Balinese ancestry who live on Lombok Island, and to local natives who are members of a religious group known as the “Wektu Telu.” These latter are “nominal Muslims” who layer their belief in Allah (and some Islamic observances) with aspects of animism, ancestor worship, Hinduism, and Buddhism. We were not permitted to enter the Muslim area, but the Hindu area was open to us and proved interesting. The facility contains a number of original animist statues, which I photographed. To get inside the Hindu compound we all had to wear yellow sashes to indicate our “pure” intent; I cannot help but wonder if I upset the system. . . . While inside we watched a young woman at prayer and new parents present their baby.

Following this visit (and enduring a retreat through the persistent vendors back to our bus), we headed through more countryside into the main city on this island, known as Mataram. Our next stop was announced as a visit to a pearl factory, but in fact it was just a stop at a sales room. Squeekie was upset because there was no showing of craft skills or steps in the production of the items they sold, like what we had seen when we visited the Wedgwood factory in England back in 1980, but if we had to shop, I must confess that I liked this better, walking around looking at stuff at our pace, asking questions when necessary but not otherwise pressured by sales staff. Squeekie found some beautiful pink and gold fabric which she bought, and a matching pink pearl necklace.

Our next stop was at a place called the “Sayang Art Market” where, we were told, local crafts would be on display and available for purchase. In fact it was just another marketplace area where local craft items were offered. As a native band played some nice music we walked past local vendors offering fabrics, pottery, baskets, wood carvings, and other items. I was very proud of my Squeekie who looked but did not buy.

Our last stop in Mataram was at the Nusa Tenggara Barat Museum, a local facility of ethnic and local history. Out in front were two British bronze cannons made in the reign of King George III; Squeekie took my picture standing in front of one of them. Unfortunately, we did not have very much time to look around here, even though there were several interesting displays of cultural history, such as costumes for special events, silverware, and weapons. Because time was so short Squeek and I took lots of pictures of displays and captions in the hope that later we will be able to figure out what we saw.

When we first entered the museum there was some sort of event going on with music, dancing, and elaborate sedan chairs. We thought that this was just some “cultural entertainment” put on for our tour, but our tour guide Tarik later told us that this was a circumcision ceremony. Two young children, a boy and a girl, each elaborately dressed, were sitting in sedan chairs, each carried by four men also elaborately dressed, who were dancing to some wind instrument music being played by a special musician. Later, back on the bus, Tarik told us that these children would be circumcised the next day and what we saw wast part of the ritual—they were carried around on these special sedan chairs which looked like horses and were presented to the community as though they were special heroes of some sort. The intent was to make them feel important and brave before they underwent the pain of circumcision. Those of you who know me well already know that I feel circumcision to be a horrible crime. In our culture it is usually presented as a medical necessity to prevent infection among adult males, and it is not done to females—indeed, many American women are unaware that it even can be done to their gender. But in other cultures, especially those touched by Islam, circumcision is done to both genders as a mark of religious belief. Well, I’ll get on my soapbox here and give a brief tirade on this topic. Male circumcision may well reduce the danger of infection in that part of the body if the male is careless about his hygiene, but it also reduces his sensitivity and therefore his ability to perform and enjoy sexual activity; studies also suggest that it may speed up a decline in sexual activity as males age. Worse yet, female circumcision as performed in Islamic cultures is specifically intended to reduce the ability of the woman to enjoy sexual activity. In some cases, it may even entail the entire removal of the woman’s clitoris, which is, in my opinion, a gender crime of the worst sort. So, when I took the pictures of that little girl and little boy astride the horses in that ceremony, the uncertainty shown on their faces is an ironic reflection of a larger issue of which they are as yet unaware, but which will someday touch them.

Our bus then drove us back through the productive rice paddies and coconut groves of the island as we returned to Lembar harbour. As we stood on the pier awaiting loading on the tender, it began to pour, a typical tropical shower. Squeekie and I both got soaked. But fortunately we were able to keep our cameras dry in the tote bage we had been given as gifts by Holland-America.

This evening, after our sailaway from this very colourful tropical isle, we celebrated a special Western event, Mardi Gras. Squeekie and I dressed for the event, and donned the beads and special masks that she had brought from home in anticipation of this event. When we entered the dining room, not only was the room flamboyantly decorated, but the entire staff, from Tom down to the assistant stewards, all were dressed in recognition of this special event. Tom ad Presti wore flamboyant hats with feathers and beads, and the stewards were dressed in colorful vests and ties and those same crazy hats. It was a fun time tonight. After dinner, Squeek and I went up to the Crow’s Nest for a night of wild dancing, but I had begun feeling uncomfortable during dinner and gave up after one dance in the Crow’s Nest, where there was little room to dance because the decorations on the overhead (ceiling) crowded down—only those who were less than five feet tall could dance without scraping their head against the decorations. Anyway, I went back to the room and went to bed, but Squeek danced the night away on “Fat Tuesday.”