A Day of Contrasts

IntrosSo this post originally went up last Wednesday... just on the wrong blog. Better late than never I hope.

I began this past Saturday with low hopes for my last weekend in beautiful Batu, hoping to make a final run for school supplies and little more. However, events took an exciting turn when friends planned an impromptu trip to a local temple. Thanks to the Lonely Planet, I knew that Malang had several abandoned monuments secluded in unexpected spots around the city, all in various states of decay. So I was a little surprised when—just a mile or so from my home—I walked through the gates of an impressive, very functional Theravada monastery.

Who knew that such a pocket of solitude existed so close to bustling Malang. Even when I’m walking through my village’s rice paddies, it seems impossible to escape thumping wedding music and the relentless staccato of “Hello, Meeester. What. Is. Your. Name.” The monastery, though, provided a refreshing escape—at least for a few hours. We certainly took our time wandering through the gardens, browsing the library, and practicing Indonesian with the monks. And surprises we found. For example, I noticed the monastery’s museum is full of golf trophies, and the library has a complete set of Twilight. Someone else even learned that the headman had seen more of America than he had. Thus, some staple monk-assumptions were casually eroded.

And then things got more interesting.

See this little guy? He’s called a civet, and thanks to him, stuffy connoisseurs all over the world eagerly shell out $300-$600 for a single pound of beans extracted from his prized scat (“kopi luwak”). Civets live in forested areas across Southeast Asia and preferably feed on coffee beans. In turn farmers harvest the droppings, whose beans have been transformed by the civet’s digestive enzymes in ways that significantly alter their coffee’s taste. In the words of a renowned critic (whom I know nothing about), “The aroma is rich and strong, and the coffee is incredibly full bodied, almost syrupy. It's thick with a hint of chocolate, and lingers on the tongue with a long, clean aftertaste. It's definitely one of the most interesting and unusual cups I've ever had.” That reflects the general consensus from the interwebs. Now, I don’t know much about coffee. In fact I’m not even sure I like it. However, after tracking down one of the few places in East Java that sells this brew, I can proudly vouch that Kopi Luwak’s uniqueness is evident even to a novice.

And that’s how I spent my last free day in Malang, ironically partaking in two incredibly divergent experiences, the first characterized by social insight and the second by physical excess. At the monastery, I felt incredibly encouraged that I was uncovering a different facet of the Indonesian experience—Buddhist culture—to consider in my sense-making of this incredibly diverse, often confusing country. I felt more like an insider then than I had in the past two months, having achieved a bit of a breakthrough. However, I couldn’t have felt more opposingly positioned while sipping Sumatran Kopi Luwak at the posh café in colonial Malang. For a few moments, I was clearly the Dutchman enjoying something unreachable to the common Indonesian. In hindsight though, I’m still glad to have had taken the experience to try something new, despite its expensiveness, knowing well that I certainly won’t be making such things a habit during my service.

In ten minutes, I'll be walking from the internet cafe over to Muhammadiyah to meet with the U.S. ambassador and officially swear-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Next stop: my permanent site for the next few years in Ngawi regency.