Posts Tagged ‘Bandung’


First impressions last and my impression of Bandung as a place nothing to rave about lasted for several years. My colleagues and students were always scurrying to Bandung every chance they got notwithstanding the snarled traffic to and fro much to my consternation. My first foray into Bandung was to a volcanic crater which wasn’t disappointing. The grey landscape was a dramatic departure from the usual green scenery I am used to, but which nonetheless piqued my interest. It was a stark flip to the presence of life; I now had an idea of how Demeter unleashed her vengeance on mankind for Hades’ concupiscence. Adding to my incredulity was the incongruous presence of hawkers with bonnets, scarves, and boa. Commercialism had found its place near the crater.

It wasn’t until only this May that I set foot again in Bandung. The invitation came from my gal-pal Theresia to join her church group, Wanita Katolik RI Ranting St Maria Ratu Pengantara segala Rahmat, from Cabang St Servasius, Kampung Sawah, on their annual outing. The gaggle of mature and young ladies was grass widows relishing the break from their duties as wife, mother, or padre de familia for a whole day. The journey wasn’t lacking in giggles and guffaws, complaints and ruffled feathers, and good old-fashioned camaraderie. I was witness to a tableau of familial ties in its rawness, which, being a recluse, opened a whole new appreciation in me for human interaction and Bandung.


Dusun Bamboo, or Bamboo Village, is a green sanctuary located in Lembang. The relaxing effect of nature begins at the right of the entrance where your sight falls on rice paddies so green you’d think the landscape was photo shopped by the universe; to the left are vehicles to take one around the family leisure park. It is best to go on foot to take in nature and its cool air especially coming from scorching Bekasi where the temperature is a few degrees higher. Most travellers stay a night or more at Dusun Bamboo to get away from the madness of the city, as facilities are not lacking and restaurants abound. One restaurant, Lutung Kasarung, caught my attention because of its design: a birdcage. The dining “birdcages”, which fit two or more diners, are suspended in mid-air and accessible by walk ways several meters from the ground.  Further exploring Dusun Bamboo led Theresia and me to a lake with a floating platform surrounded by villas – presumably private dining rooms – accessible by a short ride in a decorated bumboat.

rice paddy 1 at Dusun Bamboo

the view that greets you as you emerge from the entrance

rice paddy 2 at Dusun Bamboo

I have mellowed so much – a rice paddy is a thrill to see now.

women on a day trip

Photo op on the walk way

with gal pal Theresia

with gal pal Theresia

floating platform and villas

stand or sit on the floating platform

bunga terompet

bunga terompet are everywhere at Dusun Bamboo

birdcage dining

book a birdcage for dinner for two or more at Lutung Kasarung

bamboo structure

exploring Dusun Bamboo

Naturally, like the millennials, the Wanita Katolik was not oblivious to selfies and group shots which weren’t just confined to the lake or rice paddies. The women know that immediate documentation on social media platform is imperative in today’s travels.


Next on the itinerary was lunch at the floating market. On account of being Ramadan, the floating market was easy to navigate: one could leisurely peruse the floating boat-kitchens on their offerings, exchange money for tokens, and secure a table. Apparently, the weekends – the time local tourists descend upon the place – are filled with mobs of diners jostling to, say, order a plate of satay and get a table.

Floating market sign

row of boat kitchen vendors 1

row of boat kitchen vendors 2

Which boat kitchen do you get lunch and dessert?

tokens at the Floating Market

exchange your rupiah for tokens to buy food and drinks

satay boat kitchen

“Do you want lontong with your satay ayam?” asks Theresia.

satay ayam vendor

preparing satay ayam on the spot

crispy tahu vendor

the tahu lost its crunchiness

pisang goreng

freshly cooked pisang goreng

lunch at Floating Market

Lunch is ready – dig in!


Cepot, a wayang golek character, serves as scare crow too in an area of the Floating Market.

Unlike the floating market of Thailand, the boat-kitchens are moored to their places, the vendors – cranky or not – waiting for customers so they could fire up their stoves. Others are a little too swift in their cooking that their dishes are exposed way too much than they should. That was my mistake in buying crispy tahu (tofu) which had lost its crunchiness. Fortunately, the chocolate-cheese pisang goreng (banana fritters) was cooked on the spot hence it was still crispy when it was time to have dessert. Similarly, the skewered satay ayam (grilled chicken) were placed on the grill only after we had placed our order. The satay ayam was good, but its proportion to the lontong (rice cake) was a disappointment compared to the wonderfully balanced portion at Satay Ayam Madura, a satay stall at Summarecon Mall Bekasi.

The language barrier broke down a bit as I caught snippets of the Wanita Katolik’s stories in between bites: a crabby member’s endless complaints, how good the es cendol (cold Indonesian drink), who is ordering pisang goreng again, the oleh-oleh (gift; food or not) and kue (cake) they should buy at the floating market, etc.


Majority of the women had a penchant for gardening so Kebun Begonia, a garden-and-vegetable market, was the last stop. The whole lot was divided into the garden, or what I call the selfie place with its various picture stations, and vegetable patches. It was every woman for herself at this point: some scrutinized the flowers, evaluating which ones to add to their garden; Theresia et al took selfies; and I went for ginger tea. Ginger tea is ubiquitous in Indonesia particularly hot or cold wedang jahe. My hot wedang jahe helped to chase away the cold seeping into my body and rejuvenate my flagging energy (I had been up since 4am). Some joined me for a cuppa and quickly put me to shame. They downed it like water to the last drop while I struggled with the strong, biting taste and only finished half of my cup.

welfie moment at Kebub Begonia

Strike a pose!

Selfie moment among the flowers

an Instagram-worthy shot

Walk through flower beds

Or walk around pots of flowers

First impressions do last but they can quickly change when the opportunity presents itself. Bandung was a revelation with its greenery and cool weather. Fortunately, traffic was smooth because of Ramadan thus no delays in the itinerary. It was a bonus too to have been part of a group of women who, despite the language barrier, made an extrovert-introvert agnostic feel very much part of their close-knit group.




The excruciating caterpillar sting could have been the deal breaker. I was oblivious to the caterpillar; it must have fallen from some trees where the bus parked a distance from the observatory when I was making my way up the bus. I was thrown into a panic when I suddenly felt this warming sensation on my back that spread to the nape and the ears, and then this unbearable itch. To complete the agony, a strip of red rashes covered my neck. Happily, the school’s counselor came prepared with her first aid kit and came to my rescue with minyak tawon (bee oil) to counter the itch.

Then there’s the very early call time of 5 am so as not to get stuck in the infamous Indonesian traffic and miss the queue at the observatory. Booking a taxi would have been convenient but the cab driver couldn’t find my flat so off I went to hail an angkot (a form of public transportation that looks like a mini-van). No such luck. I learned later on that they didn’t ply the road until after 6 from one of my eagle-eyed students who, fortunately, spotted me looking lost and forlorn, and gave me a ride to school.

Caterpillar sting and early call time, surprisingly, didn’t dispel my excitement in being one of the chaperones for the field study of the students of Global Prestasi School (GPS). Whatever you call it – field study or field trip – I have always had a strong predilection for such trips. It’s reminiscent of my old high school’s philosophy of learning by doing which meant not teaching and learning outside of the classroom. GPS has always been a staunch believer in exposing its students to all kinds of teaching methodologies and environments, which is why huge tourist buses parked within the school campus is commonplace. From elementary to senior high students, each GPS student has a treasure trove of field trip memories to last a lifetime.

The field study this year skewered four subjects – science, English (national and Cambridge curriculums), and Indonesian language – that would test the mettle of the students in terms of academic performance and character. Finally, I was free to chaperone, together with 13 of my colleagues and the principal, the grade 8 students from the national and Cambridge Preparatory classes, to two venues in Bandung viz. Bosscha Observatory and Jendela Alam.


First stop was Bosscha Observatorium, in Lembang, in West Java, which, to my chagrin, was a four-hour road trip from Kalimalang. It was imperative to be on the road by 530am to be able to get to the observatory before 10 am to book tour slots. The observatory, which sits on top of a hill, is a constant pull for visitors in and out of Indonesia for viewing the stars at night during the months of April until October. However, seeing stars has become a matter of luck these days because of the light pollution in the area as well as the presence of hotels and villa. Back in the 1930s, the land around the observatory was devoid of tenants and populated by trees.

Impressive was the word that came to mind when I saw the gargantuan telescope that a fully grown man can hang from.  Called Zeiss double refractor, the telescope is one of the five telescopes housed in the observatory which is hailed as the oldest observatory in the country. It took its inventor Karel Albert Rudolf Bosscha five years to finish constructing the telescope, starting in 1923.




Next stop was a little more rustic with its gardens, mini zoo, and vegetable patches. Called Jendela Alam (roughly translated as Nature Window), it’s roughly 25 minutes away from the observatory on a day when traffic is smooth, but it takes an hour plus when traffic gets snarled up. It’s what I’d call an open- nature laboratory where students have an up close and personal experience with special tailor-made nature activities.  For the students of GPS, they had three activities to complete namely, constructing a mini terrarium, making telur asin (salted egg), and dissection. Each activity lasted between 30 and 40 minutes. Each activity had its own group of facilitators hence the teacher-chaperones were free to wander around or have coffee with pisang goreng (banana fritters) at the coffee shop called Kedai Alam.





Classroom learning is de rigueur in the pursuit of knowledge, but learning out of the classroom is a welcome respite from the stifling effects of always staying in the classroom all the time. The surroundings make good points for observation and immediate application of theories by the students. And student interaction is enhanced – bonds are made stronger, mended or forged. As for the teachers, it’s a longed-for, although brief, break from marking papers, writing notes on the board, and pressing the button for the next PPT slide. It was time for them to breathe in a bit of fresh air to clear the mind.



They warned that it was a cold place so I brought along my hoodie, shawl and cap to keep warm for the day-trip to Bandung. On hindsight, I should have qualified cold and not assume that it meant air-conditioned temperature. With the SUV window partially down, the breezes were cool on the skin, as we meandered through the road up to Bandung’s famed volcano crater site. But getting down from the SUV was a different matter altogether especially when the sun disappeared behind the thick grey clouds.

Term break had started, and dovetailed with the Idul Fitr holiday, getting out of the city was foremost on everyone’s minds. We decided to copy the locals and explore Bandung, the capital city of West Java. With Pak Joko* at the wheel, his excellent driving shortened the usual three-hour drive from Bekasi to Bandung by more than an hour sans whiplash or motion sickness.


Bandung is accessible not only by car but also by train, which we were told, passes by mountains and rice terraces akin to Baguio making for a very scenic journey. Taking a seven-to-10-seater minivan is also an alternative way to get straight to central Bandung or to a specific area in Bandung, depending on your arrangement with the company. Regular buses are also available and travelers are advised to book the air-conditioned buses with the express or non-stop label. Flying from Jakarta to Bandung, unfortunately, is not possible. There are, however, flights to Bandung from different parts of Indonesia such as Batam, Surabaya and Bali that Merpati services. Similarly, Sriwijaya Air offers daily flights to Bandung from Surabaya. On the upside, if you’re coming from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia or Singapore, Air Asia operates daily flights from Malaysia and Singapore, landing at Bandung’s airport, Husein Sastranegara International Airport.

Bandung, like anywhere else in Indonesia, is not spared of massive traffic snarls especially at the center of town, and like most cities keeping pace with the rhythm of modernity, is fast losing its old buildings and residence areas to business enterprises. Interesting to note was the proliferation of pharmacies (apotek in Bahasa Indonesia), which lined roads from both sides as Pak Joko drove through the leveled roads (not a pothole in sight!).

“I guess people caught the sniffles or something more than people from the low lands,” I quietly mused to myself.

The capital city is known by many names. The Dutch colonials nicknamed Bandung Parijs van Java (or Paris of Java) given its close resemblance to the mood prevalent in Paris and Europeans during the heydays of colonialism. Kota Kembang or Flower City was its other moniker, as the city was once inundated by flowers. These days Bandung is the locals’ hideaway during weekends and especially during holidays such as Idul Fitr. Bandung, in fact, in my mind, is strongly reminiscent of Baguio, the Philippines’ hailed vacation capital, with its zigzagging roads, strawberries and cool mountain air.

At one point in the trip, Alvin was hounded by strawberry vendors who coerced him gently with “It’s big”, “It’s sweet” and “It’s organic” over and over again. No dice – strawberry vendor was a little late in matching Alvin’s asking price of Rupiah20, 000. Pak Joko had pulled out of the parking lot by then.


Wrapped in my hoodie and shawl, and my cap on my curly head, it was still the Arctic region for me at one of Bandung’s famed tourist spots, Tangkuban Perahu, which is roughly 1,800 meters above sea level. The drive from the entrance to the volcano crater site is a good 15-20 minutes of winding road, each twist and turn met with blasts of cold air. Entrance fee is Rupiah50, 000 per vehicle and walking up the road isn’t advisable unless you’re vying for a position in the elite team of Gurkha soldiers or training for the Iron Man competition.  

Road works were underway with a ragtag team of workers busy layering the parking lot with asphalt. They gawked at us, as we alighted from the SUV. We were the first tourists of the day and were earlier than the vendors who were just about to set up their wares at the side of the road. The trio sold hats; one brushed and fluffed his faux coonskin caps, laying them alongside the furry bags and scarves; the other two were setting up their wares of Stetson hats, fedora- and- trilby-like hats, subdued derby hats and gaudy visors mixed with an assortment of mittens. Prices were every bit for tourists – coonskin caps were going for Rupiah60, 000 while the starting price for the other hats was Rupiah25, 000.

Gazing at the crater from the concrete railings, heavy white smoke billowed from the greenish water streaming through pockets of sludge. Looking up, compact grey clouds enveloped the blackened ridges. One wondered if it were daytime, twilight or the clouds were heavy with rain. We followed the railings, awestruck by the depth of the crater and the proximity to one of nature’s elements. Meanwhile, thoughts of eruption came to my mind and how fast Pak Joko could outdrive the lava flow. Passing through the parking lot, we came to a lookout point. To my left was the volcano crater from another angle and to my right vast tracts of land. Below the  lookout point was a twisting footpath leading to a cluster of wooden stalls selling bric-a-brac, hand-carved ornaments, ethnic necklaces and bracelets, shawls and ponchos, native bags (the coconut bag looked lethal), slippers accented with sequins, blowpipe and bow and arrow. Alvin’s interest was piqued at one stall selling sulphur powder packed in recycled water bottles and sachets.

“Good for skin. Mix with air panas (hot water),” he said, exhorting the salubrious effects of the powder while miming mixing and applying the sulfur on the skin.

“The man isn’t really hard selling his sulphur powder. The chemical is really used in treating skin diseases. It should work for Alvin’s psoriatic condition,” went the monologue in my head.

With a little bit of haggling, Alvin walked away with three sachets for only Rupiah10, 000. The man was selling it at Rupiah5, 000 per sachet.

Walking deeper into the “village”, food stalls selling instant noodles, drinks and the ubiquitous pisang goreng (banana fritter), tauhu goreng (fried tofu) and tempeh goreng (fried soya bean cake) came to view. By that time, photographers with their Polaroid took to following us, trying to convince us to pose against the majestic volcano crater.

Sufficiently numb from the cold – at least I was – we finally voted on trudging back to the SUV, which was quite a walk on the now-inclined footpath.

Next on the itinerary was the hot springs and I didn’t envision what I saw next. The hot springs were woven into the layout of a recreational park-convention center-hotel-resort Sari Ater Hot Spring Resort in Subang. Ticket per person to the Taman Wisata Air Panas Alam was at Rupiah15, 000. Renovation works were in progress with groups of workers landscaping the gardens while others completed what seemed to be quite a number of public toilets. A huge sign highlighted the goodness of immersing in the hot springs – it was great therapy for rheumatic diseases; injured limbs; gynecological problems; and skin diseases. It seemed an elderly couple knew that. They were soaking their feet at the waterfalls and dousing their arms and faces with the therapeutic water.

It would have been nice to sit by the waterfalls but bringing extra clothes escaped the minds of the two so they decided to dip their aching hands into one of the hot spring pools. I ran my fingers through the mini waterfalls before leaving.


Bandung is also known as a shopper’s haven for inexpensive clothes that run the gamut of casual to formal wear with batik clothes thrown in for good measure. Factory outlet stores face each other such as the ones lined up on Jalan Prof Eyckman. “Branded” shirts and jeans – Burberry, D&G, Ralph Lauren, Hugo Boss and Lacoste – filled every nook and cranny of the stores that had tailors stationed at the side of the stores ready for alterations. Adding a local touch to the displays were the boxed sarongs going for Rupiah49, 500 or Rupiah75, 000.

Walking the length of the road, we spotted a store selling Rambo-styled apparels while another had a motley stock of “designer bags” (spotted a white Gucci) and long-sleeved shirts. We stumbled into a shop selling leather jackets with faux fur ringing the collar and jackets with big collars and tons of zippers that were a throwback to the Michael Jackson days of coolness. At the side of this store, at the entrance, was a “corner art gallery”. Done in water color, oil and pastel on art paper, the framed and unframed paintings featured the bucolic days of Bandung, which were evocative of the late painter Fernando Amorsolo who was known for his ideal depiction of the rural scenery of the Philippines. The paintings were going for at least Rupiah60, 000 per piece.

Clothes and paintings were furthest from my mind. I was on the hunt for brownies, which were a specialty of the city, and brownies a la Bandung were plenty. Some were sold in big shops while others were stocked in trolleys outside of other shops. The flavors were assorted – cheese, double chocolate, blueberry and chocolate and caramel. They’re not moist fudgy brownies as I prefer brownies to be but, nonetheless, the cheese brownies and chocolate and caramel are proving good accompaniments to my cup of piping hot green tea. I also discovered “new Bandung brownies”. Cut into rectangular strips, they resembled the chocolate and almond biscotti I used to have with my drinks at Starbucks. 

Exhaustion slowly crept in with all the walking done coupled with waking up at the crack of dawn. Arnel hit upon the stupendous idea of going for pidjet (foot reflexology). Besides, we figured Pak Joko would probably want to be home for buka puasa (end of fasting). True to form, he careened down the highway with dexterity and, before we knew it, we were back in Bekasi.

*In Indonesia, as a sign of respect, men are addressed as Bapak or Pak followed by their names hence Pak Joko. Women, on the other hand, are addressed as Ibu and then their names.