BANDUNG – The next stretch of our trip sees us travelling by luxury train through West Java towards Bandung, a trendy city situated three hours from Jakarta. The urban sprawl of Jakarta is replaced by a lush and tropical countryside where paddy fields and small traditional homes with terracotta roofs mark the way. On arrival in Bandung, Harry announces, “This is the Paris of the East!” Known as the flower city, Bandung is legendarily home to beautiful women, many students and trend setters.
It’s also one of the world’s celebrated art deco cities. During the 1930’s Dutch architects saw Bandung as a laboratory in which to experiment with art deco and native styles. As a result the city’s tree-lined streets give way to countless buildings characterized by flexible lines and decorative walls. Presently the city’s forward-thinking mayor, also an architect, has introduced a number of themed urban parks (including a singles-only park!) and ensures that the city is kept in spotless condition.
Our first evening in Bandung starts with an angklung performance hosted at the Udjo Centre. Listed as a Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO, the angklung is a traditional bamboo instrument unique to West Java. It was customarily played during harvesting and circumcision ceremonies, but in modern times it’s used for entertainment purposes. We sit back as an orchestra of angklung players set the tone for a Sundanese puppet show and a lively performance of singing and dancing. I’m reminded of Cape Town’s colourful minstrels who were originally brought to South Africa from places like Java.
In the morning we make our way to Tangkuban Perahu, an active volcano located on the outskirts of Bandung. We wind past tea plantations and through thick pine forests until we reach the crater. The eggy smell of Sulphur drifts thick in the air. I move through a crowd of mask-wearing Asian tourists to catch a glimpse of the ice-blue water lying over the basin. Within minutes my celebrity status is taken to new heights. Twenty plus pre-teenagers gather round me for a photo shoot, while onlookers find confidence to approach. Somewhat bemused I pose with a group of Muslim women, a Buddhist man and a seamstress. We wander through a market set up on the rim of the volcano where traditional daggers, wooden flutes and gemstones are up for a bargain.
In the afternoon Harry insists on taking me to a place that brought Madiba to tears during a visit in the nineties: the Asian-African Conference Museum found in Bandung’s art deco district. In 1955 the building in which the museum is housed played host to 1500 delegates from 29 African and Asian countries. It was the first conference of its kind and all the participating countries were at some point in their histories colonized by the west. The aim of the conference was to unite against colonialism and to strive for Afro-Asian cooperation. I’m guided past information boards on which the events of the conference are depicted and am showed a film of how this week-long groundbreaking gathering of brave leaders led to a lasting Asian-African partnership.
