Mount Slamet, January 2016. Pt 2 - Of the Arrival

     

      It was merely a week from new year's eve. Food stalls around my dorm room had not been opened yet. My stomach was rumbling demanding tributes to be thrown through the human's white cave of teeth. Maybe I would just call for delivery service, but no. My muscle was worn out, my nerve was torn out. I was just too tired to go outside. Besides, these hiking gears and other equipment won't pack themselves.

***

        Here I am. Seven in the morning, somewhere I have never set my foot onto. My twelve-hour rumbling stomach starts to disturb me. Fortunately markets and food stalls here are accustomed to open in this early hour. I let my self grab some meals at nearby stall. My friends also grab some meals. After all this whole stuffy train trip was pretty exhausting.
        It is an hour to go until the sun reach its peak position. I set out my legs to comfort myself. The two hour car trip was unappealing. The road was bumpy and the car was worn out already when we board on. Perhaps it was the bumpy road who keep wrecking the car. We are sitting in silence. One of my friend, Apis, seem to worry about something. Now he is on all fours approaching me.
        " You's got'n drink not set up fo the hike? I kinda thirst 'ere " he says with a bit of hesitation.
        " Sure " as I hand him the half full bottled water.
        " I reckon there's some stalls outside selling drinks, " I add up.
        " We may buy some necessary stuff befo 'e hike ".
        As the sun reach its peak position, we set out from the basecamp, prepared to make the hike. Before we set our first step, we pray to the God. For the safe trip and for the bumpy road. For the good morning meal and for the night starvation. For the bright weather and for the stunning heat. The trip might be unsafe if not for the bumpy road. The morning meal might be poisonous if not for the night starvation. The weather might be bad if not for the stunning heat the sun brought with its light. Moreover, we pray for the future. For the safe hike, for the ability to overcome any obstacle, for the power to control our emotions which will be tested by the misty mountain. Last, we pray for our homecoming.
       

Mount Slamet, January 2016. Pt 1 - Of the Departing

Mount Slamet is a volcano located in Central Java, Indonesia. Stands about 3,428 meters (11,247 ft)above sea levels, Mount Slamet is the second highest mountain in this most populated island in Indonesia.

***

January 2016

        The weather betrays us. 'Us'? Yeah. Me and two of my friends whom I got acquaintance through the law of habitual meeting. A week difference, the mum wind is now hurling these dropping rain. Unfortunate, indeed. Should we refund our ticket? Surely we may. Perhaps a month from now the weather might be altered, and the sun might shine vividly. But nope. Nope. Something else is unable to be altered. Our spirit. This spirit beneath us might rebel for this longing of the splendour. Of beauty, of magnificence, of sublimity. Of mist, of cold, of dirt. Of cloud, of water, of sun.

        There we are. Submitting ourself to the will of our spirit. None turned back. Perhaps our spirits are somehow manifestations of certain common 'something'. Same will, same surrendering.

        The train departs at midnight. Eighty-five k per person, now we are heading to Purwokerto, Central Java. Not a pleasant trip, not much to hope for the trip cost. Serayu Malam, departs from Jakarta and destined to Purwokerto, pass through the City of Bandung, more precisely at Kiara Condong Station where we boards the train from. It's midnight but no twelve tolls can be heard. No such thing is common in this twenty-first century. The six hour hiking preparation allows me to take a quite sleep inside the stuffy economy class car. It's not that I'm not able to purchase the higher class carriage, the whole train consists of economy class car. This sleep might not bring me into nice expected dream. Nevertheless nothing's better than leaning my head toward this ninety degrees-shaped chair. Five minutes boarded and my friends are snoring.

        There blows a sudden breeze through my cheeks. The train doors are opened for the last time in our current trip. The cold air escapes the high pressure surrounding it and blows the heat inside this low pressure-stuffy hot car. It's not a common breeze. It's morning breeze. The seven o'clock morning breeze.