Breezing through Brastagi

Proud Batak lady (Ibu) in Lingga, Sumatra

Brastagi, Lingga, 17 January 2009

A cloudy sunrise awaits me when I wake up in Sunrise View, and I enjoy the early morning sun, looking out over the rooftops and church spires of Brastagi. This is where Islamic Sumatra changes into Christian Sumatra. The mountain people (Batak Karo and Batak Toba) always resisted efforts from Aceh to convert them to Islam, but in the end gave out to colonial missionary efforts in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. This is why the area of Brastagi and Lake Toba is covered with churches instead of mosques, and why alcohol is suddenly readily available again.

It also means I can wear t-shirts and shorts, which (I must admit) feels really good after covering up for a week and swimming in the sea with clothes on, like in Banda Aceh. I don’t really mind covering up, with my skin the sun is way too strong anyway, but I do feel more free in the Christian areas, I realize. I guess it might have something to do with the refusal of the security guard at the big mosque in Banda Aceh to let me in. I was fully covered and wearing a headscarf, but no, only Muslims were allowed inside. I was surprised at how angry this made me, I had to swallow it, but still felt very frustrated at the things people do with their religions in daily life. As a believer in One Cosmic Creator I feel all houses of worships and all versions of God are one and the same thing, so why bar other people from your house of worship? Wouldn’t it be great to welcome them inside and show them your way to praise and prayer?

Masjid Raya, the great mosque in Banda Aceh

The really crazy thing is that most people in Banda Aceh would probably be fine with Westerners visiting their mosque; they seem a lot more open and tolerant than their local government. This is why the Sharia police in Aceh is so busy patrolling for proper headscarves, trying to outlaw ‘dating’, and sex before marriage…. But all their efforts in spite we saw lots of dating going on, lots of improper headscarves and some people even told us about the car they saw on campus the other day, in which a couple was having sex while the important Friday prayers were going on in the mosque…. This makes me laugh and makes me hopeful, people making their own choices and living their lives regardless of the Sharia police and ‘religious’ rules. “It is always the system that is failing, not the people,” my yoga teacher told me once. I believe so.

Back to the Christians in Batak land: Why they gave in to Christianity but not to Islam is not completely clear to me, but it had something to do with a missionary whose coming was accompanied by some really good harvests and the Batak king felt that trading animism for Christianity might be profitable for him. At the time the Bataks were still head hunting, and some had an appetite for human meat as well. This was only done with real enemies though…. The Batak civilization was highly developed, with an interesting language and script, great houses with curved roofs (like boats or buffalo horns), beautiful woodcraft and arts.

Brastagi was a resort during colonial times, when sweaty Westerners from Medan came to the mountains to relax and forget about the stress of colonial life… My grandmother used to holiday here as a child as well. Colonial Brastagi is almost gone, the only remnants some old luxury hotels on the hilltop outside the modern town. Today’s’ Brastagi is a bustling market town, “too busy to bother with tourists” as a guidebook says. This is true and it gives us some welcome peace of mind and undisturbed walking around. Only the school kids are excited to see us but we can handle that, they are pretty cute actually and their school English does not extend to more than: My name is? Which is considered by them to mean the same as the question: what is your name?

It reminds me of the hilarious story of Leena in Banda Aceh, who was on her way in the dark at some point when a voice from the bushes asked the intriguing question: “Who am I?” This has become one of our standard traveling jokes, as has the English phrase from our jungle guide John: “Much more better….” When describing anything he thought was good he would put this in front of it, like “Much more better swimming, or much more better food”

We decide to explore the area around Brastagi by motorbike to see traditional Batak Karo houses and enjoy the country side. This proved a brilliant choice. We had great fun driving around, and I quickly adapted to driving on the left and dealing with Indonesian traffic rules.

Rule 1: Always honk when you pass anyone or see anyone or just feel like it.

Rule 2: Do not be scared by crazy maneuvers from oncoming traffic. They will eventually make space for you, although probably at the last moment and you will not really die. You just feel like you will die.

Rule 3: be ready for anything on the road: children, bulls, wooden carts, women with buckets on their head and most of all: Giant potholes that you have to avoid at all costs, even if it means swerving over to the other side of the road.

Rule 4: Honk more.

With these rules quickly discovered, I was feeling free as a bird, wind in my face, helmet and sunglasses on, enjoying the speed, the fun, the sights and the smells. I always wanted to ride a motorbike when I was a teenager but my parents thought it too dangerous. And so I started to think it was dangerous and never tried one till now. Now I am addicted though…. I am renting one again as soon as I can, probably to go around in the Lake Toba area.

We saw many fascinating churches along the road, mixtures of Christian and Batak architecture.
We also found the village of Lingga, were some original houses are preserved. Families still live in those old houses, but as an elderly Ibu (lady) told us, since the 1950s most people build modern houses when the old ones fall apart. In the Batak houses there is only one big room where many families live, and since the idea of an individual family also arrived in Indonesia those houses are not considered to be so good anymore.

Ibu appeared to be great company and with Chiara’s brilliant translations we learned quite a lot about the village and her life. At some point she even showed some old dance moves, inspired by us talking about Bollywood. The great thing was that many villagers, especially children, were gathering around us in a big circle. So in the end the old lady talking to us about her life became a community event. She told about colonial times, when she was a child and very afraid off the foreigners. They were herded into some sort of camp during the war, in the jungle, but we were not sure if it was by the Japanese or the Dutch. During the revolutionary war they all left the village for safer places and returned after the struggle was over. We were invited to stay the night and share their food, but we decided to return back to Brastagi.

Before leaving we were blessed by the old lady, she said that she was praying for us to have many children and good health. It was great, the solemn way she said her blessings and the humble way in which we made our goodbye. We were all touched by this meeting.