Where Mud Flows Endlessly – The Mud of Sidoarjo

I've had just enough time to...  ponder the greed of men 

Taken of the village boys watching the mud flow of Sidoarjo, Java that flooded their village

The mud bubbling out the vent from the ground in the distance indicated by the rising steam

The mud was in the ground

As it always had been

Man’s greed caused it

To be pumped out

To get to the gas within

But man did not reckon

With Nature’s wrath

Now the mud flows endlessly

Inundating the poor man’s house

While the rich ran away

That is the tragedy of Lusi

Houses in higher ground covered up to the roof, all else have gone under

Planting Rice Is Never Fun.

I've had just enough time...   to see rice been planted.

Taken in a kampung in Cilegon, Java, Indonesia.

This field of ripening padi that I took in my visit to Cilegon in Jakarta is no more. It has been bulldozed over and converted to another factory. All in the name of progress.

It is easy for me to say this is bad. That the old way of Life should be preserved. But I know how difficult it is to walk in deep mud. And how back-breaking it is planting padi under the scorching tropical sun. And I remembered that nursery rhyme that I sang as a boy –

“Planting rice is never fun,

Bend from morn to set of sun.

Cannot stand and cannot sit,

Cannot rest a little bit.”

And I hesitated and reserved any hasty judgement. And I find the only thing I can condemn outright is – “poverty is bad”. Progress? It has two faces. But I sure miss the undulating field of ripening padi dancing to the wind.