Bali - Lombok February 2007
This year’s trip was more of a cultural visit to further my study in Balinese history and to obtain facts for my Internet site, soon to be titled “The Last Of The Radjadoms”.
I booked my flight through QF frequent flyer points and was expecting the same service as that of a Qantas flight, but instead was put in economy class on JetStar.
The service on JetStar, I guess was ok, for the exception that the seats were slightly small and there wasn’t much space between the front seats.
However, on my return from Bali, I got a seat in the Star-Class section, which was much better.
I arrived at Bali airport at about 9:30 P.M., went through immigration reasonably fast and out through customs to meet my driver “Yasa”, who in turn drove me to SU’s Cottages in Legian. Surprisingly enough, while I was filling the appropriate forms - enter my friend “Sheryl” who I met last year. Sheryl was leaving the following Sunday, so she invited me to her farewell party at “Zappaz Piano Bar” the following Saturday.
The next few days were pretty much relaxing for me. I met Max at the “Bamboo Corner Bar” for a few beers the next day, then at 3:00 pm, I went to “Billy’s” to meet my friends DB & Nanik for a few more drinks, after which I went for dinner at Goody’s with my friend Lorraine. Goody’s is a great place for Pizza and the owner “George” is from Thornbury in Melbourne and is a very nice guy.
After an exhausting long search I managed to find the grave of “Mad Lange” the Danish trader, who had a great influence with the Radjas of Bali and made Kuta what it is today.Surprisingly, I found that they now have a monument in his honor, funded by his descendant and that the stone carvers were still working on one of the stone plaque.
On the 12th of February, I left for Lombok on Merpati airline for the modest price of Rp700000 (Return) for 4 days and stayed at the “Puri Saron Hotel” at “Senggigi Beach”. (More about Lombok, in the Lombok Section).
Saga Of a Danish Trader (1834 – 1856)
The Danish trader, Mads Lange, who lived in Kuta from 1839 until 1856 and made his appearance at critical times and places in Balinese history, was fortunate in having sympathetic witness and biographers, in the accounts left by these writer, Lange appears as the courageous and loyal friend of the Balinese radjas and people, deliberately cushioning the shock of their early encounters with the outside world. Had the record been less full and factual, Lange might have the reputation today of the betrayer of the Balinese radjas to the Dutch builders of empire.
The best known account of Lange’s sole role in Bali, or, to be more precise, the least unknown, was written by L. V. Helms, a versatile Danish adventurer who served as one of Lange’s assistants in the Kuta factory from early April 1847 until Jun 21, 1848 and made a nostalgic return visit not long after Lange’s death in 1856. Helms went on to seek and to find his own later fortunes in Borneo with Radjah Brooke, in California and Australia with the gold miners, and in Lapland as a prospector and speculator in Arctic mineral deposits. He eventually found the leisure in which to write his memoirs, Pioneering in the Far East (London, 1882), in which he included several chapters on the life and times of Mads lange as reflected, naturally, in his own engrossing experiences.
Lange emerges through Helms’ reminiscences as aman of enormous energy and agreeable personality. This report is supported by the observations of certain distinguished visitors who enjoyed Lange’s generous hospitality for more or less extended periods in his Kuta establishment.
Among them were the German philologist R.H. Th. Friederich, the Swiss botanist Z.H. Zollinger and the Dutch ethnographer Baron van Hoevell, who grouped themselves about Lange as though his factory were a Kuta salon. A popular Dansih writer of the early twentieth century, Aage Karaup Nielson, searched out the more readily available records of Mads Lange, inclusive of comments these guests, and wrote a lively biography, Leven en Avonturen van een Oostinjevaader op Bali ( Amsterdam, 1828). Neilson’s account, which was brought out both in Dutch and in Danish, reached an appreciative Dutch and Danish audience, but it has never, unfortunately, been published in English. Nor has it been published in Indonesian or in Balinese, although the graves of Mads Lange and his brother at Kuta lead people to ask questions which very few can answer.
Lange as Sjabandar and Merchant in Ampenan 
Soon he became a man of great wealth and influence but vulnerable nevertheless to the whims of Asian rulers. In order to achieve his position he allied himself with Radja Ngurah Lanang, who had recently had to flee from Karangasem-Bali to Karangasem-Lombok to escape retribution for various atrocities, and also with the Radja’s sister the Tjokorda, who actually ruled the kingdom as regent together with an incestuous consort. He associated himself commercially from time to time with George King, an English trader who had recently skipped his debts in Surabaya to settle in Lombok. King aspired to displace lange as sjahbandar, and inorder to do so he attached himself to a junior ruler, the Radja Of Mataram, who, in turn aimed to depose and succeed the Tjokorda.
The involuted dynastic rivalries of the Balinese princes of Lombok and the intrigues in which the princes of Bali were always eager to share, plus the commercial rivalries of Lange and King, both of whom had arms to sell, signaled certain trouble. War broke out in early 1838 between the radjadoms of karangasem and Mataram, with King providing the latter with arms, men, and advice, and Lange comingto the aid of the former. The more vigorous new house of Mataram (also of Balinese origin) prevailed over the decadent old house of Karangasem, and King prevailed over Lange, who boarded his yacht Venus and sailed off to Bali.
Kuta Factory and Kuta Town in 1839
Arriving in Bali in mid-1839, after five years of exposure to the hazardous life of the trader in the Indies, Lange had just despoiled of most of his personal property; he was in debt to Chinese merchants in Singapore and Canton for something like 30,000 silver dollars; he had little except his own quite extraordinary experiences and abilities to reply upon as his trading capital. He assumed personal command of a little trading post at Kuta, one which may have been opened by King as early as 1831 and seems for a time to have operated as a King-Lange joint enterprise under the occasional supervision of an Englishman named Pace from Surabaya.
The scale of operations of the Kuta post had formerly been quite minute, but under Lange’s personal direction the enterprise suddenly flourished.
Lange soon achived even greater means and influence than before.
In settling at Kuta, Mads Lange gave new impetus both to Balinese trade in general and to the shift of the center of trade from the traditional market of Buleleng in the north to the radjadom of Badung in the south. Radja Kasiman, the ruler of Badung, was much better disposed than were the radjas elsewhere to the establishment of systematic contacts with the outside world. The Dutch themselves had already perceived the possibilities of Radja Kasiman’s little port town of Kuta. They had established a factory there in 1826 but had built up no trade and had therefore allowed it to lapse in 1831. They returned in mid-1839, at just the time that Lange was starting up business. The new Dutch venture was as inauspicious as the former, and in 1844 the Dutch were to close it out and to write off a cumulative loss of fl.172,194.39. By that time Mads Lange had made himself a fortune.
The town of Kuta, so profitless to the Dutch and so productive for the Dane, was (and is) located on an isthmus one to two miles wide and five miles long which connects the southern headlands of Bukit (Dutch Tafeloak on the older maps) to the Bali mainland. With easy access to sandy beaches and sheltered anchorages both to the east and to the west, Kuta enjoyed a major advantage over the northern port of Buleleng in being accessible from one direction or the other no matter which way the monsoon might be blowing. Given ordinary skill and luck, ship’s captains could find passage through the coral reefs and put in reasonably close to shore for loading and offloading. The town itself was built along a small stream, the Dawan, which flowed by 39 leisurely bends intothe sea near Tuban and was navigable at high tide to small boats. On the edge of Kuta town and on the bank of the stream was located the original factory which Lange expanded into a large compound filled with storerooms and living quarters.The Kuta site was favorable to trade but the town itself had an evil reputation. It was thought to be populated almost exclusively by scoundrels and ruffians and to be conducive not only to death by violence but to almost equally lethal chills and fevers. Whether guided by knowledge or instinct, Mads Lange chose a well-drained site for his factory and worked such far-reaching improvements that his frequent visitors never echoed the complaints of the early traders that the spot was all but uninhabitable. He also established cordial relations with the townspeople, when seem either to have been grossly maligned by early visitors or to have changed quite recently and rapidly for the better. Dutch restraints upon the traditional practices of piracy and slavery may have exerted a tranquilizing influence.
The nearby Bukit peninsula, just south of Kuta, with its high sea cliffs and its dangerous coral reefs, had played the natural role in times past of luring and wrecking incautious seafarers. The people of Kuta, acting upon the belief that whatever the seas cast up was for them to take possession of for themselves, their rulers, and the gods, had made a good thing of the frequent shipwrecks. The Kuta market, in which looted cargo and enslaved sailors were often put up for sale, was also the market in which the radjas themselves could conveniently and profitably dispose of such worrisome persons as criminals and paupers, who might make good slaves. The buyers were Chinese and Bugis dealers, who gladly paid Fl 100-150 per head, the hadsome and accomplished Balinese being much in demand in overseas markets, Prospering as it did on looting and slavery, Kuta had become the home of various unamiable characters, the most infamous of whom was Gusti Ngurah Ktut, the ruling local prince.
Gusti Ktut’s personal 40-man gang terrorized local residents and visitors alike, but not quite to the extent of inhibiting the growth of the town. At the time that Mads Lange arrived, Kuta had a population of several thousand persons, including local fishermen (100 families), Chinese and Bugis dealers in slaves, opium, and renegades who had found it expedient to vanish from other island kingdoms and resettle in badung.
Kuta Factory as Home and Trading Post
and earned an especially cordial welcome. Lange also had a billiards room and somewhere, above or below ground, a cellar well stocked with European wines and liquors as well as other drinks, among them the very agreeable Balinese berum and arak. Cooks trained in Balinese, Chinese, and European cuisine prepared a memorable table, for which fish, flesh, and fowl, fruits, vegetables, and spices were all abundantly available. A visit to Lange’s factory was a revelation with regard to the degree of refinement and luxury to which a European in the East could then aspire.
The factory was a well arranged for efficient business as for gracious living. Certain of the pendopo served as market halls where imported goods and local produce could be displayed and sold. Beyond the pendopo were warehouses in which could be stored many hundreds of tons of rice and great quantities of other goods. Alongside the warehouses was an oil press, especially imported at great cost from Europe, for the extraction of coconut oil intended both for local sale and for export.
Outside the compound were pens for cattle, pigs and poultry. Beyond were rich farm lands, which Lange himself gradually acquired in order to produce rice and coconuts to augment his purchases. Stretching both eastward and westward from the compound to the the seashore ran roadways, over which Lange traveled in style in a fine carriage. It was the only such vehicle on the island, and it was drawn by high-stepping Makassar horses which dwarfed the ponies of the Balinese. Inevitably Lange came to invite comparison with certain other white Radjas-naturally, with George King, the new White Radja of Lombok, but also with the great Rajah Brooke of Sarawak. Their impact upon the East, like the impact of the East upon them, served in still not especially well-understood ways to illustrate the Victorian concept of the white man’s burden.
Lange’s Political Role; His Later Years and Death
The decade of 1839-1849, in the course of which Lange built up his business success in Kuta and his reputation as a peacemaker acceptable to both sides in the Dutch-Balinese wars, was the period of his greatest prosperity and influence. After 1849 his career went into gradual decline, a circumstance which reflected deteriorating conditions in Bali itself and the uncertain and unhappy state of his friends, the radjas. After the war and peace of 1849 Bali did not enjoy the prosperity and progress which the beginnings of the process of modernization might have been assumed to bring, Distressing new trends were readily discernible in the market place, and Lange was one of the first to feel the effects.
Lange had expected that the end of the wars and the lifting of the partial Dutch blockade would result in the quick revival of agricultural production and commercial activity. His expectations were swiftly and bitterly disappointed. Bali experienced a series of droughts and bad harvests-sure omens of divine displeasure. Produce was far from plentiful, and people murmured that worse was yet to come. Rather than exporting rice in the same huge quantities as before, Lange found it necessary at times to import from Lombok in order to satisfy Bali’s own requirements. He took less profit or pleasure in such a trade. The royal courts, furthermore, were not soon again in a position to make lavish outlay on ceremonies and on the luxury of goods which royal pomp required.
It was clear that the day of independent or semi-independent Western trader was passing.
With the appearance of the steamship, the big Batavian concerns became even more aggressively monopolistic than before, and only the Chinese, with their clan loyalty and organization, were really able to compete. Even Lange’s ship provisioning service very sharply declined. The whalers, which had come to be his best customers, were now following the whales into other and distant waters. And even though he was only in his early forties, Lange was beginning to show the strains of an extremely eventful life.
Subsequent Fortunes of Factory and Family
Lange’s sudden death, at age 49, gave rise to reports, as we inevitable given the time and the place, that had been poisoned and that good fortune had deserted his heretofore remarkably lucky establishment. The latter part of the report was confirmed by immediately subsequent events.
The factory passed to his brother, Hans, who was not especially gifted in commerce and survived him only a year or two. On Han’s death it passed to the nephew, Christian, who quarreled with the Balinese rulers and had little knack for dealing with ship’s captains. The property began to look badly run down, the oil mill was abandoned, and trading activities languished. Christian had brought out a bride from Denmark just about a year before Mads Lange’s death; there had been much celebration when she bore him a child; and Mads Lange had dreamed of establishing a family concern which would last for generations. But two of his brothers preceded him in death-one in a distant shipwreck, the other drowned in the surf before his eyes on return to Bali after a long voyage.
Now both Mads and Hans were buried in adjoining graves in a coconut grove not far distant from the factory. Christian decided to abandon the enterprise, including the lands and buildings, to which he could convey no clear title. He sold what goods he could, loaded all other portable belongings, his wife, and his child onto his one remaining ship, and sailed off to Denmark, where, in 1872, he died.
The graves of Mads and Hans were faithfully maintained by another Chinese, Ong Po Hien, who seems to have been a business associate of Lange and also-to introduce the long delayed element of romance-a relative of Lange’s Chinese wife.
In the course of his 17 years in Bali, Mads Lange took two wives, one Balinese, one Chinese, but very little is known about either. By the Balinese wife, who may have been the first and certainly preceded Lange in death, he had two sons. The first, William Peter, died as a child in Singapore. Where he had evidently been sent to school. The second, Andreas Emil (Later known as Henrik) was also sent to study in Singapore at Raffles Institution; he remained aboard after his father’s death save for one quick trip back to Bali in 1906 in an unsuccessful effort to claim his father’s property. By his Chinese wife, The Sang Nio, who survived him and inherited a comfortable home in Banjuwangi, Java, Lange had a daughter, Cecilia Catherina. Cecilia was educated in a Singapore convent and remained aboard after her father’s death, making one trip back to Bali in 1859 to visit his grave. Lange attempted to make long-term financial provision for his children, leaving each of them fl 10,000 by an early will (fl 7,000 in a later one), but his will was never honored. Christian neglected to share the proceeds with his cousins when he sold off the remaining possessions in Bali and set out for Europe.
Adreas Emil (or Henrik) was somehow able to complete his education in Singapore, and he found employment (perhaps through L.V. Helms) which was at once most implausible and most appropriate. He went to Borneo to work with Rajah Brooke of Sarawak. In Sarawak he married a local girl, who eventually bore him nine children. The family presently backtracked from Sarawak to Singapore, where descendants still live, but never, save for the one disappointing trip of the father, did any of the family return to the island of Bali. If Andreas Emil’s destiny was dramatically fitting. Ccilia’s was sensational: she became the Sultana of the important Malay state of Johore.
After her father’s death, Cecilia was befriended by an English family, who took her to live for a time in India, then to England and France, and later brought her back to the East. On her return to Singapore, where she attended school in a convent, she met Abu Bakar, the Sultan of Johore, who fell in love with her and after an impetuous courtship made her his Sultana. Since Sultan Abu Bakar, unlike his peers, remained officially monogamous, the Sultana Cecilia enjoyed and especially honored position in his court. She eventually bore him two children: a daughter, who was to become the first wife of the Sultan of Pahang; and a son who was to succeed his father (d. 1895) and rule in Johore as Sultan Ibrahim.
A man of most extraordinary vitality, Sultan Ibrahim constantly amazed and shocked the conservative colonial British by behavior which they deemed outrageous. He gave almost equally grave affront, for instance, by denying the colonial officials the use of the palace golf links and by taking many wives and mistresses, European women among them in both categories, including a certain British woman in Singapore and his official Sultana, a Hungarian. Sultan Ibrahim was an avid sportsman, an indefatigable hunter of tigers, leopards, and elephants. He was also a shrewd businessman who built up a vast fortune in rubber plantations and other enterprises. Despite British disapproval of what would now be termed his life style, which caused them to put a 6:00 P.M. curfew on his visits to Singapore, Sultan Ibrahim was an Anglophile. He presented the British Royal Family with valuable gifts and the Royal Navy with warships to help, naturally, in the defense of his own prosperous little state, which was overrun nevertheless by the Japanese. He even forgave such affronts as the postwar occupation of his favorite palaces in Singapore and Johore by the British High Commissioner-from his point of view, a squatter on royal domain.
Sultan Ibrahim, in short, was a feudal aristocrat in the grand tradition, a ruler who seemed in many respects closely akin to the Balinese radjas of his grandfather’s day, yet a progressive cosmopolitan. When he died in London in 1959 he was genuinely mourned both by his Malay subjects and his British associates.
The visitor to Bali today can still find the Lange graves and the site of the Lange factory at the edge of the town of Kuta. The villagers who live in the neighborhood respond at once to the mention of the name of Tuan Lange, and guide any inquirer to the deserted spot on the river bank where the factory once stood. Until a few years ago the rusting skeleton of Lange’s coconut oil press still remained intact, but recently it has been cut up and sold as scrap. On the adjacent property is a small lime kiln, and just in front of it stands a Chinese temple. The larger and more elaborate of the two Chinese temples of the island-the other is at Singaradja – it is a reminder that Kuta is still an important center of Bali’s Chinese community. Kuta also serves as the home of a few score international hippies, who have imported their ugly life style to the splendid sandy crescent of Kuta Beach. That these wan apostles of latter day savagery should have selected the same point of penetration, as did the early merchants need not signify equally lasting impact. Fortunately they are not drivers but drifters.
LOMBOK
I booked my flight through Merpati airline in Bali for the sum of Rp 700000.
Merpati airline planes are very old and noisy. Stepping onto the tarmac to board our plane, we were handed our small lunch box, consisting of some sort of a bread roll and a small plastic container of water.
I made my way to my seat and nearly ripped my knees open with a piece of metal sticking out of the front seat. Of course I wanted a window seat so that I could take some photos from the air, but found that the maintenance guys have been cleaning the plane windows with steel wool and there was no chance of me being able to get a clear picture, but I needed to take a picture of the window.
Now.. If you’ve never paid attention to the safety evacuation demonstration on a plane, now would be a good time to do so.
In brief, the plane went up, then down for landing in the space of 20 minutes and I didn’t even get a chance to consume my “yummy” bread roll. The plane landed at about 10:00 AM and I was in no rush to get out, in an attempt not to injure myself with that piece of metal from the front seat. I made my way to the small airport carousel to pick up my luggage, and then proceeded to the hotel counter in the hope that they would have a driver to take me there. But there was no transport provided and was told that I had to catch a Taxi. So I picked up my bags and went outside to get a Taxi only to be told that I had to buy a ticket at the taxi counter desk. Rp60000 later I was on my way.
At first Mataram looked quite pleasant, but half way through the town my cab came to a stop. “What’s the problem?” I politely asked my driver… “Funeral” he replied. A few minutes later we started moving again and I could see the funeral procession going in the direction of the local cemetery, but only to come to another alt further down. “What’s the problem? Lots of traffic in Lombok”… “Funeral” he replied. “What again?” I exclaimed.
A further 20 minutes, we were on our way to the “Puri Sarong Hotel” traveling along magnificent coastline, through the town of Senggigi.
We finally arrived at the hotel about an hour later, which should have taken 30 minutes if it was not for the funerals.
The “Puri Sarong” is owned by Hindus, most likely Balinese and is a beautiful hotel right on Senggigi beach, for the modest price of $US35 a night and which would probably cost at least $US65 in Bali for a similar place.
I quickly completed the required hotel forms in a hurry for my first beer and was shown to my room. Again it was a fantastic room in the standard of a 3 star hotel, with a four- posts bed and mosquito net, antique Indonesian furniture, including TV with indo-sat, Aircon, bar-fridge and outside toilet and bathroom.
Since I was running short of cash, I needed to find and ATM and the closest one was located in the town centre of Senggigi. The hotel provides free shuttle every 2 hours to Senggigi, but you had to get a taxi back. The driver dropped me right in front of an ATM located on the same side of the “Tropicana Restaurant/Nightclub/Bar”. Got some cash out and decided to drop at the “Tropicana” for a beer, on the recommendation of my friends DB and Lorraine.
While having a beer at the bar, came a completely drunk English man who made his home in Lombok and after telling him where I was from, he bluntly told me that he hated Australians and didn’t like Bali. Well..! I thought to myself.. He is just another drunk English man and by the looks of things, there is not much to do other than getting drunk, but after the next few minutes that I spent there, we got along quite well.By 2:00 PM, I pretty much had enough of “Tropicana” and my British friend, that I decided to go back to the hotel only to be reminded by my new-found friend to be careful and I caught a cab back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel, I decided to have a look at the map of Lombok that I purchased at Denpasar airport before my departure and started to plan my visit. I made my way to reception and asked them if I could hire a bike from someone and made the point that I wanted a new bike with automatic gears, that will allow me to take some photos while riding. One phone call later, I managed to get a bike for Rp500000 per/day, which I knew was way more expensive than in Bali, but couldn’t careless, as it was only for two days that I wanted the bike and fair enough, when it arrived, it was a new bike.
The next day after breakfast, I informed the reception girl of my plans of travelling from “Senggigi” to “Anyar” located in the north of the island and close to “Gunung Rinjani” and again I got the same message as that of my English friend from “Tropicana”, to be careful and to make sure that I am back before dark.
By then I was starting to get nervous, but decided that I would not let my fear get the better of me and continued with my plans.
I got on my new bike and rode from Senggigi to “Pemenang” which is the port for the “Gilis Island” with a few stops to take some photos, then continued on my way.
I forgot to put some sun screen on, before leaving the hotel and by this time I was turning into a lobster and was desperately looking for a place to get some sun screen. There are not many shops along the coastline, except for small shops, selling drinks and other local condiments. I stopped several times but it seemed that no one had sun-block for sale and that everyone wanted to sell me “Whitening cream” instead.
I finally came to a small town with a larger shop and stopped for help. The shop keeper didn’t speak any English and could not understand what I was talking about, when I was approached by a clean, well dressed young man, who gave me the impression that he had some dealing with tourists in the past or most likely would be a hotel worker on his day off. After explaining to him what I was looking for, I was shown another large bottle of “Whitening Cream” with some UV properties. I purchased the rather large bottle for the price of Rp 25000 with no doubt that I was getting ripped-off but didn’t really care and smeared myself in a thick layer of cream from face to toe. I thanked the young man for his help, when of course he asked me where I was going. I mentioned that I came from Senggigi and that I wanted to ride along the coast to “Anyar”. Once more the young chap reminded me to be careful and that I should make sure that I am back before dark. By this time I knew that this warning wasn’t that I would turn into a pumpkin after midnight, but that my life depended on it.
One must understand that other than those working in the island tourist industry, the general population is not very approachable and this was noticed when I rode through the town of “Tanjung and through the Sunday market. There I was stared at like a monkey in a cage, without a comforting smile on the face of the locals or the usual “hello” from the children, as one would experience in Bali. The rest of the of the trip along the Coast-line from this point was mostly desolate, dry and volcanic up to Anyar.Once I arrived at “Anyar” and had a look at Agung Rinjani from a distance, and it was time for me to turn back before dark.
The ride back was quite pleasant with the occasional stops to fill up with petrol and made it back to the hotel at about 6:30 PM.
The next day I left to meet my guide at “Bangsai” for the Gilis, that I arranged on my first day in Lombok while I was walking on the beach in front of the hotel and after getting a price of Rp500000 for the trip from the hotel counter. I was charged Rp30000 by my new friend, which included the 3 Gilis in comparison to the price of Rp500000 for only “Gili Trawangan” which did not include transport.
We spend about 2 hours on each one ( Gili Air,Gili Meno, Gili Trawangan). Thou the boat ride was great, I found that the islands were similar to other small islands in Bali or anywhere else for that matter.
The “Gilis” would suite those who want to spend their time sunbathing on the beach and do some snorkeling.
The following day I arranged with a local driver, to take me to “ Mataram” to have a look at some Hindu Temples, “Pura Meru” the largest temple in Lombok, built in 1720 by Anak Agung Made Karang of Singosari, consisting of three courtyards and over 30 shrines dedicated to Siwa, Wisnu and Brahma and one of Lombok’s biggest Balinese rituals is held there, then to “Pura Segara”, located north of Ampenan and is right on the beach, “Mayura Water Palace” which was built in Cakranegara in 1744 for the Balinese court. A large pool contains a large pavilion, Bale kembang and is accessible by a causeway . However I did not find the temples as elaborate as that of the Hindu temples of Bali and if not very neglected.
We made our way to Kuta where we stopped at the weaving village of Sukarara, just 3.5 Kms north of Narmada water palace, where women still weave itak using traditional backstrap looms and of course I had to buy one, which surprisingly did not cost too much.
There are certain things that they do not tell you in the travel brochures, such as there has been a war going on among the Sassak people for more than five years and that I was about to come in full contact with a fight between two villages, while we approached the town of Praya. We found our self among mobs of angry men dressed in full “Jihad gear” and long swords, completed with Police in full riot gear. This would have to have been the most scary time that I ever experienced while traveling in another country and I told my driver not to stop no matter what happened and if the need came to run over someone, so that we did not get hacked to death, that he should do so and we will explain at the next Police station. With great relief we managed to get on some back road and made our way to the town of Sade where the traditional Sasak Village was located.
Still shaken from this experience and as one can imagine, I was not in the mood to stop any where, but thought to myself that I shouldn’t let this get to me and agreed to stop at the village.
The Sasak Village is pretty much your Lombok Disneyland, where apparently people there still live the traditional Sassak life and if it wasn’t for the hundreds of TV antennas on long bamboo poles between every huts and the usual hard selling of crafts, I would have believed that it was the authentic thing.
I spent about an hour at the village, after which we made our way to Kuta Beach where the Novotel is located.
Kuta is a small fishing village (with white sand), which reminded me a bit of the old Kuta in Bali, for the exception that there was not many trees until we got to the Novotel grounds.
The Novotel is quite a nice place that reminded me of the “Flint-Stones”, due to the setup and the design/architecture that the owners have adopted for the bungalows and the hotel amenities.
I had lunch there and went for a walk along the beach to take some photos, and then it was time to head back to my waiting car.
My driver informed me that we need to get back to Senggigi before dark and when I asked why? He replied that there are too many bandits along the way at night… without any hesitation, I replied - LET’S GO…! Approaching the town of Praya the fight was still raging and I could see that my driver was in a state of panic and was looking for an alternate route to Senggigi frantically, with sweat running down my face we finally arrived back at the hotel safely. I thanked my driver for bringing me back in one piece, if not alive and told him that I will not require his services the next day, as I intend to spend my last day in Lombok in the safety of the hotel compound and I did just that until I caught the plane back to Bali.
The Sassak people are not to blame for their behaviors. This is a nation that has been used, abused, murdered, tortured by their Balinese rulers for centuries and the Westerners invaders often ignored their plea for help. In order to understand the not so welcoming behavior towards both Westerners and their Indonesians counter part, we must look closely at their history.
Puri Saron Hotel Photos:
Photos Of Senggigi:
Looking Over To the Gilis Photos:
Various Photos Of Lombok:
Tragedy In Lombok (1891 – 1894)
Origin in Bali and Lombok of Sassak Insurrections
The chain of events which culminated so disastrously in Bali proper with the puputan in Den Pasar (1906) and Klungkung (1908) had in fact already led in 1894 to a penultimate climax in Lombok which was in certain respects even more shocking and horrible. The Lombok tragedy of 1894 clearly signaled the fate of the Dewa Agung and those of his vassals who objected to the active exercise of the Dutch sovereignty which they had long since acknowledged but never fully accepted. This catastrophe on the nearby island was directly related to the late nineteenth century turbulence in Bali itself. In playing a minor role in the dissolution of the Dewa Agung’s empire, the state of Karangasem, a dependency of the the Balinese Radja of Lombok, triggered a crisis which destroyed the Lombok radjadom.Lombok and Karangasem enjoyed almost half a century of peace and obscurity between the troubles of the earlier part of the century and those which broke out in the 1890’s. At the end of the Balinese-Dutch War of 1894, the Dutch rewarded the Radja of Lombok, who provided troops which conquered Karangasem, by recognizing his claim to the state and permitting him to rule it through his own regent. Neither Karangasem nor Lombok gave the Dutch any special trouble for decades thereafter. In 1870 Lombok came under the rule of Radja Ratu Agung Agung Gde Ngurah, who proved to be extraordinarily capable and durable. In Karangasem a Balinese prince of Lombok, Gusti Gde Putu, was Regent, but his half-brother, Gusti Gde Djilantik, had become the actual ruler.
Gusti Gde Djilantik; His career in Bali and Lombok
In Bali, very soon after his arrival, he all but openly ruled karangasem. His domination of the state was so complete that when the Regent’s son committed the same offense of which he, Gusti Djilantik, had been guilty in Lombok, he prevailed upon the father to cause the son to be krissed. His influence over the Regent and his obvious intention to clear the way for his own succession aroused intense resentment among various members of the Karangasem court. But at just that time Karangasem was being pressured by Lombok to intervene in the wars in the southern Balinese states, and Gusti Djilantik was the obvious choice for command of the joint Karangasem – Lombok forces then assembling.
His subsequent campaign in Klungkung ended in disaster, especially for the Lombok soldiers, who were armed, clothed, and provisioned and suffered frightful losses. These Lombok troops were reluctant recruits drafted from the native Sassak population into the service of their Balinese rulers; their decimation in Klungkung combined with efforts to impress and send replacements precipitated outright Sassak rebellion at home. Gusti Djlantik, who had so recently been fighting a war for Lombok in Bali, was suddenly called upon to lead a Balinese expeditionary force of 1,500 men to go to the aid of the Radja of Lombok.
Djilantik and his army crossed from Bali to Lombok on November 29, 1891, and there, for the next year, he himself was deeply involved in the tangled affairs of the Lombok rulers.
Royal Family Of Lombok; the Radja; Gusti Made; Gusti Ktut
In 1891 Radja Ratu Agung Agung Gde Ngurah was already long since past his prime, frail, deaf, and at times childish. He was given to unpredictable displays of the alert intelligence for which he had been famous but also to studied or unstudied senility and stupidity. He had placed the affairs of the realm largely in the hands of his eldest son, Anak Agung Made, or Gusti Made, the son not of a noble wife but of a low caste concubine. According to conflicting accounts, Gusti Made was possessed of enormous capability and courage or of almost infinite craftiness and cruelty. As his heir apparent, the old Radja had designated his eldest son by a noble wife, Anak Agung Ktut, or Gusti Ktut, a youth who seemed to the Dutch to be moronic. Since the Radja had dozens of wives, scores of children, and hundreds of royal relatives holding high positions at court, the radjadom was riddled with intrigue. The three closely adjacent towns of Ampenan (the port), Mataram (the seat of the Crown Prince) four kilometers away, and Tjakranegara (the seat of the Radja) two kilometers furthur distant, were Balinese Hindu enclaves in an island where 95 per cent of the people were resentful and rebellious Sassak Muslims. The sassak complained, and were able to cite convincing evidence, that the Balinese rulers, especially Gusti made, oppressed, exploited, terrorized them, in fact brazenly robbed and murdered and might be planning a war of extermination of Muslims as a countermeasure to Sassak rebellion.
Such was the stage setting for the reappearance of Gusti Djilantik together with his force of 1,500 Balinese warriors at the court of the old Radja, with whom he swiftly reestablished himself as favorite.
Sassak Petitions; Radja’s Appeal to the Dutch and the English
Photo: Lombok Sassak Worriors
Both the Radja and the Sassak rebels had addressed themselves frequently to the Dutch, the Radja seeking aid in putting down the rebellion, the Sassak requesting a Dutch punitive expedition against the Balinese leaders and promising to join it. The Dutch were cool to the Radja’s advances, being much preoccupied at the time with a long and costly war in Atjeh, Sumatra, and indisposed to open a distant second front. They sententiously reminded the Radja of their recently redefined colonial policy of “abstinence,” signifying non-intervention in local disputes. The Radja turned to Singapore, seeking to buy arms and charter ships and to invite the colonial British to intervene. He employed as his intermediary Said Abdullah, an Ampenan merchant who belonged to a wealthy and influential Singapore Armenian family and held the post of sjahbandar which had once been occupied by Mads Lange and George King. Said Abdullah and his sons were murdered not long afterwards, presumably because they served also as intermediaries for the Sassak, who turned to them as coreligionists and potential confederates.
The radja, it might seem, could have caused no greater dismay to the Dutch than to appeal to their British rivals, but he managed to compound his offense in an objectionable manner and thus to destroy the possibility that they would espouse his cuase. When Dutch agents journeyed to Lombok to investigate the Sassak complaints – first and several times later a Controleur, once the Resident himself – the Radja refused on one flimsy pretext or another to receive them. The Dutch dignitaries indignantly departed to report unanimously that they had confirmed the worst of the Sassak charges and to recommend firm measures against the insolent and cruel Balinese. They had laboriously drafted a letter which was not exactly an accusation or an ultimatum but included nicely calculated nuances of both; they were especially annoyed that they were never able to deliver it.Ultimatum and Military Expedition of 1894
In June 1894, when the Atjeh war seemed to be won and the troops could be released for other operations, the Governor-General drew up an ultimatum in which he made four demands, to which, later on. Another three were appended. From the Radjs he required: (1) sincere repentance for his disrespectful behavior; (2) solemn assurance of future compliance with Dutch wishes; (3) immediate banishment of the evil Gusti made; (4) acceptance of Dutch mediation to restore peace between the Balinese and the Sassak; and later (5) abdication in favor of the Crown Prince; (6) declaration of willingness to conclude new treaties; (7) payment of indemnity. The Radja rejected the ultimatum. The Dutch launched the Lombok Expedition.
The Lombok Expedition of 1894 was assembled in Batavia and Surabaya out of elements hastily withdrawn from Atjeh and was placed under the command of major-Genera J. A. Vetter with Major-General P. P. H. van Ham as his Deputy. The designation of these two highly respected and experienced officers to joint command signifies the importance which the Dutch attached to new enterprise and the high regard in which they held Balinese warriors. The expeditionary fleet consisted of four warships and eleven transports. The land forces consisted of 107 Dutch officers, 1,320 European soldiers (including 175 cavalry), 948 indigenous troops (mainly Ambonese), 216 servants, 64 overseers, and 1,718 convict laborers.
The invasion fleet arrived off Lombok on July 5 the Generals at once sent the Radja another ultimatum which expire at sunrise the following morning. The Radja sent back a messenger requesting three day’s delay; but the Dutch held to the original deadline and at 6:30 a.m. on July 6 they began landing their troops. They encountered no resistance whatever. The whole expedition was ashore by mid-afternoon and scouting parties were sent out into the countryside, where all seemed to be quiet. On July 8 a strong reconnoitering force set out in the direction of Mataram and Tjakranegara with Generals Vetter and van Ham in the lead and Controleur Liefrinck accompanying them as representative of the Resident of Bali and Lombok and expert adviser on matters of local psychology and politics. The party very soon encountered Gusti Djilantik who had come in fact to intercept it and report to it on conditions at the court.
Gusti Djilantik engaged in a long and friendly conversation with the Dutch officials and promised to meet them again the next day after first conferring with the Radja and Gusti Made. He kept his July 9 appointment and informed the Dutch that the Radja accepted virtually all of their conditions. His report was confirmed the following day by a letter from the Radja requesting modification only of the provision in regard to Gusti Made, suggesting that arbitrary banishment might incense the people; he would prefer that the Dutch first conduct an on-the-spot inquiry into his alleged offenses. The Commander replied that the prince must be surrendered to him at once or else the expedition would march upon Tjakranegara, as, on July 11, it did, no reply having yet been received.The march on Tjakranegara had bearly begun before messengers arrived with a letter saying that the Radja had given Gusti Made the choice between exile and suicide. A second messenger followed hard upon the first to announce that in fact the prince had
commited suicide, and that his wife had joined him in death. The Dutch were skeptical but accepted the messenger’s suggestion that they send someone actually to view the bodies. The assignment fell to Controleur Liefrinck, who was personally acquainted with the persons in question. Arriving in Tjakranegara without incident, Liefrinck was admitted at once to the puri, which seemed to be virtually deserted, but was then subjected to a long wait. Eventually he demanded to see Gusti Djilantik, who presently appeared, asked him to wait just a little longer, then vanished. After another long delay, Liefrinck again demanded to see Djilantik. The prince returned and escorted the Controleur into an interior courtyard in which lay two bodies clothed all in white. Liefrinck recognized one as that of Gusti Made, who just at that moment drew his last labored breath.
The Dutch never determined to their own satisfaction, and Gusti Djilantik never confided in them, exactly what had been the circumstances of the prince’s death. He had plunged his kris into his own heart, just as the old Radja had said, was the official version of the incident.
Most persons thought Gusti Djilantik had guided his hand. Others held that the old Radja had condemned him to death just then in expiation of the crime of incest and that the high priest had been the executioner.
Whatever the true explanation, Gusti made, whom the Dutch regarded as the evil genius behind the Lombok troubles, was undeniably and opportunely removed from the scene and there seemed to be no further obstacle to peaceful relations. The troops marched into Mataram and Tjakranegara that same day through what appeared to be friendly countryside. Seemingly cheerful spectators lined the roadways: the town markets remained open with stall keepers and buyers alike apparently unconcerned about any danger. Everybody in fact seemed much diverted by the military parade an delighted with the martial music.
General Vetter, General van Ham and Controleur Liefrinck took up residence in comfortable compounds requisitioned from the nobility; they adopted Gusti Djilantik as their confidant and intermediary in their relations with the local people. The troops settled themselves into bivouac areas on the outskirts of Tjakranegara, Mataram, and Ampenan, with the largest contingents in Tjakranegara, and prepared to enjoy an agreeable stretch of not very strenuous occupation duty. The old Radja abdicated; the Crown Prince succeeded him and exchanged ceremonial calls with the Generals and the Controleur. Negotiations began for fulfillment of Dutch conditions, most of which the young Radja seemed to accept with such compliance and indeed indifference that the Dutch suspected, and Gusti Djilantik confirmed, that he really did not comprehend except when it came to payment of indemnity. The Dutch demanded fl.1.000.000 and the prince quickly paid over the first three installments –200,000, 250,000, and 250,000 in silver coins – but not without evidence of anguish. The only real trouble the Dutch encountered came not from the Balinese but from the Sassak. It was part of the Dutch mission to reconcile the Sassak to Balinese rule; but it was not until they promised to station permanent Dutch representatives in Lombok to look out for Sassak interests that the Sassak leaders became receptive to Dutch suggestions.
The Generals were elated by their bloodless victory; the Controleur was delighted with progress in treaty-making; the troops were so relaxed in their bivouac areas that they neglected to take the most elementary precautions against trouble.They drilled and paraded and staged concerts of band music for great crowds and admiring, respectful spectators, among whom were many Balinese soldiers. It seemed only mildly curious that Gusti Djilantik’s own army of some 1,500 men from Bali proper still remained in Lombok, even though it had been several times scheduled to return home. The in late August there were certain danger signals.
The Balinese soldiers became less respectful and in fact occasionally provocative, one of them, for instance, throwing a bottle at soldiers who were counting the coins in the latest installment of indemnity payment.
One morning the market places were almost deserted and the population of both Mataram and Tjakranegara seemed strangely diminished. Then came an informer on August 24 to report that the Balinese were planning a surprise attack upon Tjakranegara for that same night. The Dutch sought to consult their trusted friend, Gusti Djlantik, and also the simple-minded young Radja. Both were much too ill, it seemed, to be visited. They sent a military doctor to diagnose Gusti Djilantik’s sudden seizure; he pronounced it a stupor induced by opium. It was already much too late in the day to stage an orderly withdrawal from Tjakranegara, and to retreat in great haste, said Controleur Liefrinck, would only make the Dutch appear cowardly and ridiculous in the eyes of the bold, proud Balinese warriors. So they called a special alert and posted a heavy guard and the night passed without incident. They learned only later that the Balinese had suddenly discovered that the horoscope readings were inauspicious for an August 24 attack. Next day the Dutch roused Djilantik from his torpor long enough to get him to swear that he had absolutely no knowledge of any conspiracy. That night, at 11:15, just as they were congratulating themselves that danger was quite certainly past, the attack came.
The camp in Tjakranegara was suddenly surrounded by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Balinese warriors, firing off rifles with deadly aim, their battle cries as blood-curdling as their attack was furious, massacring Dutch soldiers who had no place to take shelter. The attack continued all night. At 7:00 a.m. on August 26 the Dutch withdew in reasonably good order to a nesrby temple in which they would have stone walls to protect them. But they were without food, or adequate ammunition, and the Balinese soon began boring holes through the walls and firing into the closely packed masses of troops in the restricted and sweltering compound. At 3.00 p.m. the Tjakranegara forces began a retreat toward Mataram.
General van Ham himself was fatally wounded just after he emerged from the temple gatway. The troops suffered frightful losses as they moved from Tjakranegara into and through the town of Mataram. The Balinese could and did take shelter behind thick stone walls in order to fire with quite devastating effect upon the confused Dutch ranks, especially at one point where the road made a right-angle turn. When the retreating troops reached the Mataram bivouac area, they discovered that the Mataram garrison had been subjected to equally strong attack and had already withdrawn toward the coast. The next day the Tjakranegara forces also retreated to the port town of Ampenan, suffering losses all along the way but as severe as on August 25-26. By final official report, once all the scattered detachments were accounted for, including several which had been dispatched to the interior and one which was captured – and freed – by the Balinese, the Dutch casualties on August 25 – 27 totaled 98 dead and 272 injured. The dead were 60 Europeans (nine officers) and 38 members of the Ambonese and other indigenous auxiliary forces; the injured were 121 Europeans (17 officers) and 151 indigenous auxiliaries.General Vetter’s own telegraphic summation of the events of these dreadful days by which his career was irretrievably ruined warrants at least the following partial citation as a moving historical document:
Tjakra attacked on the night of 25th. Firing continued all day. Losses in course of 26th are 14 killed and 85 wounded. No water, foraging impossible, losses increasing; at 3 p.m. retreated to Matram. Baggage left behind so as to carry wounded in wagons.
Heavy losses on the road. Situation Mataram worse. Camp deserted. Eight in the evening Bijlevelt’s column from the interior arrived, also heavy losses. Provisions failed, could not reach bivouac, communication with Ampenan interrupted, hemmed in between Tjakra and Mataram; impossible to take offensive.
Situation untenable on account of numbers wounded, on morning 27th retreated Ampenan in southerly direction, losses were comparatively small. Killed: four officers, 63 soldiers; Wounded: 12 officers, 153 soldiers; missing: six officers, 143 soldiers. Four field guns left behind at Mataram. Nothing known of Van Lawick’s column in the interior.
“Treachery” of August 25-27; Puputan at Mataram and Sasari
The August 25-27 Battle of Tjakranegara and Mataram entered Dutch colonial history as “The Lombok Betrayal” or “The Lombok Treachery”.
When telegraphic word reached Batavia and the Netherlands, the wrath of the government and the people could only be assuaged by the immediate assembly and launching of a new expedition to reinforce the remnants of the old and to carry the battle back to its starting point. The reinforcements began arriving in Lombok in early September, eventually totaling at least another 1,000 officers and men, among them a higher percentage of Europeans than before; there were also large detachments of convict laborers – 650 of them at first more to follow.
The Dutch took every possible precaution against being surprised and advanced only very deliberately through the countryside in which every village proved to be strongly defended. Since each village was a maze of compounds with thick stone walls, the seizure of any of them was no easy tactical maneuver. The Dutch resorted to virtual demolition, first laying down such heavy artillery fire that the walls began to crumble, and then upon occupying a village, moving in the convict laborers to level the walls in order to preclude any possibility of reoccupation by the Balinese forces. Relentlessly they advanced upon Mataram, which they seized on September 29 and systematically razed, an enterprise which occupied them for the next several weeks. It was not until November 18 that they reached Tjakranegara and not until November 19 that they actually occupied the whole of the city, subjecting it afterwards to the same treatment as Mataram.In Mataram the defenders took up their final stand in the puri of the young Radja, who seems to have roused himself from his habitual torpor to lead them in the final act of defiance, which was the performance of the rite of the puputan. The Dutch finally broke into the puri over mounds of bodies which piled up without and within as the defenders krissed one another and themselves. Among the corpses they discovered and with some difficulty identified that of the young Radja, so hideously mutilated that they later declined to show it to his grieving father. In Tjakranegara, after a day of hard fighting, the Dutch next morning captured a deserted puri. The old Radja and his court had fled during the night to the nearby town of Sasari.
On November 20 the Dutch marched upon Sasari and demanded immediate surrender. The old Radja delayed for two hours, then, dressed all in yellow, seated in a palanquin carried by four slaves, accompanied by escorts who carried two golden parasols – all that remained of royal splendor – he caused himself and a grandson to be carried to the Dutch lines. The Dutch refused him his last request, that he be carried by his own bearers to whatever destination they chose. They assigned him convict bearers, who carried him to Ampenan, where he was held until he was therefore enacted yet once again the appalling rite of the puputan as men, women, and children emerged as in a trance from the village and if they did not die by the kris rushed headlong into the fire of the troops.
By Dutch count there perished that day at Sasari ten of the highest ranking noblemen of the kingdom, and 50 of their wives and children.
Even this was not the finale. More and more persons reported themselves to surrender, but others, including the next heir apparent, Anak Agung Nengah Karang, fled to a village still further distance, where on November 26, occurred that last attack and puputan.
Before they razed the puri in Mataram and Tjakranegara the Dutch afforded both the native and the European troops opportunity to ransack and loot while officers sequestered the treasure which they found in the royal storerooms. In Mataram they found 1,000 pounds of gold and 6,996 pounds of silver, and that was only part of the booty. In Tjakranegara they discovered to their amazement a room five meters square in which silver coins were heaped two meters high; other valuables such as krises and ceremonial vessels of gold and silver were piled upon the money.Together with fl. 450,000 of indemnity which the Dutch sent out from Tjakranegara before the surprise attack or else carried with them in their retreat, the proceeds of the Lombok War much more than offset the total expenditures, which, according to announcement in Parliament, came to exactly fl. 2,658,917.
Fate of the Radja, Lombok, and Gusti Djilantik
Photo: Lombok Surrender
The Dutch thus swiftly and to their own satisfaction wound up the Lombok campaign. The deposed Radja was sent off to exile in Batavia. Where his arrival and transit from the port of Tanjung Priok to the residence which the Dutch made available to him on Tanah Abang created a momentary public sensation. He died on May 20 of the following year, then all but forgotten and unattended, most of his own people having repudiated him for not having led the puputan.
As for Gusti Djilantik, who vanished from Lombok and reappeared in Bali well before the seizure of Mataram and Tjakranegara, the Dutch debated just how to reward or punish what had been, according to variant versions, his singular services or deceptions. They decided at last to make him Regent of Karangasem. Although he experienced grave difficulties at first with his own subjects and aroused profound misgivings on the part of the Controleurs, he proved in fact to be a loyal and effective ruler. In Lombok itself the Dutch established direct rule through an Assistant Resident and three Controleurs, dividing the state into 24 districts, 12 of them presided over the Balinese and 12 by Sassak Chieftains. Lombok began almost immediately to prosper again and so too did Karangasem. Nevertheless, the events in Lombok in 1894 left deep scars upon the Balinese soul and the Dutch conscience.
Returning To Bali
On my return from Lombok, I basically plotted around the hotel pool reading and relaxing.
I made a trip to the national museum of Denpasar, then to Klungklung with a stop over in Sanur to have look around - a coffee at the “Beach café”
and lunch at the “Sanur Beach Market”,
located at Jl Segara Ayu, Sanur. I was handed a business card from the waiter with the following information: “Everything you purchase in this complex of Restaurant and Boutiques is helping the people of Sanur. The profits are entrusted to the Sanur Village Foundation and are utilized to build and run Schools, Dispensaries, Temple and Art Centers”
I had a seafood platter comprising of a Lobster, Prawns, Fish and Chips, a Nasi Goreng for my driver, who didn’t want anything else, two small beers and a bottle of water and the total came at about $AU25. I haven’t been to Sanur for more than 15 years and I was amazed by the changes and would certainly recommend a stay in Sanur to anyone. The promenade is lovely and not having any hawkers on the beach is a bonus.
Beach Cafe Slide Show:
Beach Cafe - Sanur Bali Feb 2007
Sixth Military Expedition (1906); Puputan in Den Pasar
Punggawa – Central advisory board assisted the king, also know as Radjas, running the government.
Kris - The kris or keris is a distinctive, asymmetrical dagger indigenous to Indonesia Both a weapon and spiritual object, krisses are often considered to have an essence or presence, with some blades possessing good luck and others possessing bad.
Puri – Palace
Puputan - or a Balinese ritualistic fight to the death, once formed a cornerstone of Bali's Kings ultimate sacrifice on behalf of their subjects; the ultimate refusal to surrender in the face of a foe. With a literal meaning of 'ending' or 'finish,' it was incumbent on every Balinese King to display the necessary courage to die rather than be taken prisoner and be forced to leave his beloved island home.
Dewa Agung – Great God – further information in the Klungkung section.
The Sixth Military Expedition, under the command of General Ross van Tonningen, consisted of three battalions of infantry and a detachment of cavalry, two batteries of artillery, and strong naval support. It arrived off the southern coast of Bali in early September. On September 12 the General sent a final ultimatum, which the Radja of Badung rejected. On September 14 the Dutch landed their troops on Sanur beach. In the course of the next few days, without meeting any significant resistance, the forces proceeded inland. On September 20, early in the morning, they moved into the town of Kesiman, the seat of a minor ruler, also titled Radja, who administered the district on behalf of the Radja of Badung.
They discovered that the aged, half-crazed Radja had been killed by his own high priest for refusal to lead a resistance, that the puri was in flames and that the people had deserted both the puri and the town. Having little to detain them in Kesiman, they continued their march toward Den Pasar, expecting the action to be more of a dress parade than a pitched battle.The Dutch troops, marching in orderly ranks along a long roadway, walled on either side, which led to the royal palace, were not surprised to find the town apparently deserted and flames and smoke rising over the puri, the most disquieting factor being the sound of the wild beating of drums within the palace walls. As they drew closer, they observed a strange, silent procession emerging from the main gate of the puri. It was led by the Radja himself, seated in his state palanquin carried by four bearers, dressed in white cremation garments but splendidly bejeweled and armed with a magnificent kris. The Radja was followed by the officials of his court, the armed guards, the priests, his wives, his children, and his retainers, likewise dressed in white, flowers in their hair, many of them almost as richly ornamented and as splendidly armed as the Radja himself.
One hundred paces from the startled Dutch, the Radja halted his bearers, stepped from his palanquin, gave the signal, and the ghastly ceremony began. A priest plunged his dagger into the Radja’s breast,
and others of the company began turning their daggers upon themselves or upon one another. The Dutch troops, startled into action by a stray gun-shot and reacting to attack by lance and spear, directed rifle and even artillery fire into the surging crowd. Some of the women mockingly threw jewels and gold coins to the soldiers, and as more and more persons kept emerging from the palace gate, the mounds of corpses rose higher and higher. 
Photo: The aftermath
Soon to the scene of carnage was added the spectacle of looting as the soldiers stripped the valuables from the corpses and then set themselves to sacking the royal ruins. It was a slaughter and self-slaughter of the innocents and the plundering of the dead made all the more appalling by reason of its recurrence that same afternoon in nearby Pematjutan, a minor appendage of Badung. There the frail old Radja and his terrified court, having heard what had already happened in Denpasar, elected the same fate. When the victorious Dutch troops marched from Den Pasar to Permatjutan, the Radja and his retainers were ready to enact yet once again the grisly rites of the puputan. This time the Dutch were prepared to refrain from participation if not from profit.
Seventh Military Expedition (1908); Puputan in Klungkung
Preface: -
The town of Klungkung is the capital of Klungkung regency, which includes the islands surrounding Nusa Lembongan. Most tourists don’t visit Klungkung, but it has an important history.
During the Hindu, Majapahit invasion of Bali in 1343, the new rulers set up a court at Gelgel, which is south of Klungkung. The prime minister of the Majapahit Empire, Gajah Mada, appointed a Dewa Agung, which means ‘Great God’ to rule over the entire island. The Dewa Agung was for almost 200 years based in Gelgel.
When the Majapahit Empire in Java, fell in 1515, to the advancing Muslim, Mataram Empire, Bali received an influx of Javanese artisans and members of the royal court and during that era, Gelgel became a center for the arts.
The court was moved to Klungkung at the end of the 17th century. Bali developed separate kingdoms soon after and the strength of Klungkung was over.The final event that marked Klungkung’s history was a sad one. The Dutch started to occupy Baliearly 20th century, and went about forcing each kingdom, to submit to their rule. The Dewa Agung of Klungkung refused, meaning the Dutch set themselves up, outside the royal palace to attack. The Dewa Agung and 200 of his courtiers marched down the street and committed a ‘puputan‘ (ritual group suicide) stabbing each other with ceremonial kris, rather than submit to the foreign power. Some of the royal family who were left was exiled in Lombok.
Puputan In Klungkung:
The Dutch expeditionary force, which arrived subsequently, having dealt conclusively with Badung, marched next upon Tababab. The new Radja and the Crown Prince, who rejected the advice of certain of their priests and courtiers that they had no choice but resort to the puputan, fled from the puri together with some of their more timorous followers and sent emissaries to bargain with the rapidly advancing Dutch. They offered peacefully to regency status, which was about to be imposed upon Badung, but they sought some reassurance that they themselves would not be exiled, as seemed all too likely. They were required to present themselves in Den Pasar as humble petitioners, as they hastened to do, only to be detained, interrogated, and abruptly informed that exile to Madura or Lombok was indeed to be their well-deserved punishment. The Radja and the Prince preferred suicide in their Den Pasar prison. For lack of a kris, the Radja plunged a sirih knife into his throat, and the Crown Prince took poison. Their closest relatives were exiled to Lombok: their palace – the finest in all of Bali – was plundered and razed; and Tabanan followed Badung into the Dutch sphere, itself to be followed, in 1908, by Bangli and Klungkung.
As a side excursion to their invasion of Tabanan, the Dutch made a show of force in Klungklung. They hoped thereby either to prevent or perhaps to provoke a show of resistance by the Dewa Agung, for there were certain of the military who thought the time was opportune quite definitively to pacify and occupy the whole southern Bali. But the Dewa Agung was either cowed or prudent. He resisted the urgings of the Punggawa of Gelgel, the one real firebrand in the state, and declined his offer to man and lead an attack. He even went so far as to command his own small palace guard to ring the Punggawa’s puri to prevent him from taking any rash action on his own authority. The Dutch presently withdrew, some of them predicting that they would soon be back.
For the time being the Dutch contented themselves with presenting the Dewa Agung with a whole new set of agreements almost indistinguishable from ultimata, all of which he accepted virtually at sight. The Dewa Agung was required to dismantle all fortifications, to deliver all firearms to renounce all levies upon imports and exports, and to cede to Gianjar and Tababan certain remaining Klungkung-ruled enclaves within their territory. In compensation for his loss of revenues from customs, the Dutch granted him an apparently generous annual pension of fl. 7,117.
But Opium, by far the most important item of trade, was soon yielding the Dutch themselves much more than that amount under their new opium monopoly.
Everyone knew that the next move would be Dutch imposition upon Klunkung of the same sort of general administrative guidance, which their Controleurs provided in other states, and that any small incident would provoke it. Disorders duly broke out, especially in the town of Gelgel. Some of the Punggawa’s men intimidated and attack certain agents of the opium monopoly, the incident resulting in the death of the Gelgel shop manager and two of his assistants and subsequent looting of the stock. The Dutch brought in warships and landed a small party of troops, which marched into Gelgel to seek out and to punish the Punggawa. The Punggawa and his supporters offered resistance and a sharp engagement ensued in which 180 Balinese were killed and so many of the Dutch soldiers were injured that the detachment had to withdraw to the seacoast. The Punggawa sought shelter in Klungkung, where the Dewa Agung, correctly anticipating naval bombardment and land maneuvers, had already authorized certain measures of defense. The weak little Klunkung defense force reintensified its rather forlon efforts to contrive shelters against shells, to buttress the puri walls, to dig protective pits and ditches, and to plant bamboo spikes and sharpened bamboo splints where they might do the expected attackers the greatest damage. The bombardment swiftly followed, virtually demolishing the guilty town of Gelgel and working great destruction upon innocent Klunkung.
Then came the troops with their field pieces, which they deployed in the square in front of the puri at a distance of no more than 200 meters from the main gate and began firing admonitory salvos.
The Dewa Agung ordered the gongs to sound the call to the puputan.
He himself led a procession of some two hundred persons who emerged from the puri to confront the Dutch soldiers. Clad all in white, he carried in one hand a ceremonial lance with a golden tip and in the other his ancestral kris, magically and mystically the most potent item of the royal regalia. Pausing about one hundred meters from the momentarily silent cannon, he bent over and with an imperious gesture thrust the kris blade into the ground. Thus, if the prophecy of his high priest came true, he would create a great chasm in which would be swallowed up all of his enemies. As he straightened, he received a gunshot in the knee, and before he could even crumple, he was killed outright by another. Six of his wives knelt around him and solemnly drove their kris blades into their own hearts. The whole company, men, women, and children alike, engaged in ritualistic self-immolation or sacrificed one another while murderous cannon and gunfire contributed to the mayhem.
There were very few royal or other survivors of the Klunkung puputan, but 19 of them were exiled to Lombok. The puri was razed, except for one gateway, which led to barracks and a prison. What little had remained of Klunkung’s ancient glory had vanished, but the last bright blaze of martyrdom had burnt away many stains. Thus, on April 18, 1908, after 600 years of rule in Bali, the lineal descendants of the Modjapahit emperors were decimated, the ritualistic victims of relentless Western intrusion.
Sheryl Farewell Party – Iris – Ku-De-Ta – Zappaz Piano Bar
Now.. I am not sure what it is with Zappaz and beautiful girls.. After my last encounter with the “Devil In Prada” the year before, this time a beautiful girl named “Iris” (Thought very young) approached me and asked if she could sit at my table.
We struck conversation while having a beer and a smoke, when I found out that Iris beauty was not dealt by fate. She is from mixed parents – Dutch & Indonesian and that she was backpacking around Indonesia for the first time.
After a few hours and Sheryl still not there, we decided to hop on her bike to have a look at Ku-De-Ta, a short distance away from Zappaz.
This was my first time at Ku-De-Ta and to be honest, I wasn’t so sure what was all the fuss about. The place reminded me of a glorified food court, with the majority being Europeans of course. The crowd was mostly old men in gold chains, laying about on the sun lounges facing the beach and who has been sucking on that same Ouzo cocktail for the past three hours, chatting the pretty Italian girls, which gave the place a fake look. I am afraid that it is not the place for me no matter how good the food may be and I would rather have an expensive meal at Gado-Gado Restaurant or some little Warung with a real atmosphere.
Iris seemed to like the place and wanted to stay longer, but I decided to walk back to Zappaz among the real people.
By the time I got to Zappaz, everyone was there and the party went on till 12:00 am after which Sheryl and her friend Made gave me a lift home. We had to drop one of Made’s friends home first and drove along Dhyanapura, where most of the bars are located.
Miracle Beauty Salon -Wybe & Nanik’s New House
A charming little Villa complete with Alang- Alang, newly built patio that looked very inviting for an evening party and a beautiful pool to compliment the lot.
We sat in the lounge under the cool ceiling fan sipping on a “Bintang” while we were waiting for Nanik to bring lunch.
After lunch the three of us caught a cab to the Bamboo Corner where we were to meet Luna, Max and two of Max’s friends from South Australia. There we had a few more beers and by 4:00 Pm it was time for everyone to head back to our respective nests.
Wybe & nanik’s new House - Bali
Frank’s Esky & Fire Dance
I spent a few afternoons at Frank’s on the beach having a couple of beer before dinner, listening to the drums, talking to the beach girls in front of the Jayakarta Hotel.
One of the events not to miss when you are in Bali is the Fire dance located on the beach in front of the Kumala Pantai Hotel. The Fire dance start at about 6:00 PM and finish at about 8:00 PM on Sundays only.
Fire Dance Photos:
Frank & The Beach Crew Photos:
LOMBOK VIDEO
FIND YOUR HOTEL IN BALI
posted by matrix at 8:52 PM
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