In a country scattered in more than ten thousand islands, almost one thousand of them permanently inhabited, and with more than three hundred different ethnic groups and seven hundred spoken languages, the beauty of Indonesia is definately not limited to Bali as most of the visitors will think.

This is my homage to the overwhelming multiplicity of the country after three months wandering through the islands of Sumatra, Java, Bali, Lombok, Sumbawa, Flores, West Timor and Sulawesi.

My tribute to the beauty of hitchhiking in top of old trucks with local kids from west timor

wind on the face,

breathing fresh air like a lonely fisherman
on an island in a lake inside a volcano of sumatra

movement for some, stillness for others…
like the stillness of watching a sunrise in the top of a mountain in flores

with its three lakes that are always changing colors
uncertainty born from the mysterious vulcanic activity underground:

sometimes blue
sometimes green        
      yellow
red    
black

like the colors of a random street market

with its vibrant life inside,
kids playing in their mother’s food stall

kids taking a break from their school break to smile to the stranger passing by

or an old lady smiling on the street

always like that:
smile            
              street
         smile
street     

street smile.

In this country the streets are full.
Full of contrasts, the old and the new

full of expression

full of repression.

Filled with portraits…
a lazy tuktuk driver waiting for customers on javanese streets

a mother collecting vegetables on the side of the road
strongness in her eyes, urgency in her hands
the table needs food
the family does not wait.

For every portrait on the wall, a story within.

Walls of past

walls of future

of present.

A present that includes from ancient traditions of tribes at more remote islands

to modern life and contemporary culture at jakarta in the country’s center

 

includes from the hardworking teenagers of lombok

to the playful children of sulawesi that make toys out of anything

or the ones that swim around the port
searching for the small cash that ferries’ passengers throw at them.

Includes the lucky ones enjoying holidays at the beach

and those unlucky that only make use of the shore to do the laundry.

Includes uncountable truck drivers that make their living by moving all the time

and the ones that never got out of their little remote hamlets.

Includes exotic beliefs and even more funky realities.

Peacefulness

 

 

 

 

 

 

and hate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of all, includes the simplicity and multiplicity of life in the islands.
The beauty of it.

A silhouette against the sun, darkness and light:
the perfect summary of a country where state violence and dictartorship habits
cohabit with the warmness and full-heartness of its population.
Where genocide-responsible militias live together with the most caring and harmless people.

Darkness and light, too many nations trying to be one;
an infinite struggle to maintain diversity while the government forces uniformity.

Languages, religions, traditions, ethnicities…
the islands are many.

The hope is that they will not remain isolated through ignorance and closemindness
nor blended with blandness and state-sponsored morality towards
a single version of the country.

 

There is no single path, no single indonesia.
An archipelago exists only if there is enough water drawing space between its islands.