IT'S NOT WHAT YOU KNOW, IT'S WHO YOU KNOW. Part II: Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to Ijen we go.

When our alarm went off at 12:10am, Brian and I wasted no time getting up to go hike Mt. Ijen.  Our first excursion with Supri a few hours earlier had been fantastic and we were eager to see what the day held in store.  The drive to Mt. Ijen was a steep one (I'm pretty sure the road was at a 45-degree angle in some places), but we were lucky for two reasons.  1) - we were in a 4x4 and 2) the road is now paved.  We arrived at the trailhead around 1:30am and started our ascent of the mountain.

Mt. Ijen is one of Indonesia's many volcanoes (it was last active over 10 years ago), but it has some very unique features.  It's one of two places in the world where you can see blue flames (the other is Alaska).  As I understand the science of it all, the blue flame is because of the burning sulphur pouring out of the volcano.  During the day the molten sulfur appears red, but at night it's blue.  Ijen also boasts of the world's largest acidic volcanic crater lake that is a gorgeous turquoise.  And last, it is an active sulfur mine.  

As we were hiking up, Supri went into more details about the men of Mt. Ijen.  There are about 200 miners who carry on average 60-90 kilos (130-200lbs) of sulfur out of the crater in either baskets or bags.  For each kilo they bring down the mountain, they earn 800 Rupiahs, or $0.06.  They usually make the trip twice a day, bringing their daily earnings to a whopping $8.00-$11.00.  

It wasn't long before we saw the beam of a miner's headlamp slowly bobbing its way toward us.  Supri instructed us to step off the path and when the miner got closer, I could see why.  The picture in my head of the miners was of big men with baskets or bags on their backs.  The reality is that the miners are around my size and they balance a pole with a basket or bag on each end on their shoulders.  While I stood there gapping at the miner's fortitude, Supri switched roles from our guide to the miner's comrade.  He carefully poured some Sprite into the miner's mouth and then told Brian to give him one of the cigarettes we had purchased for the miners as a small token of our appreciation for letting us insert ourselves into their daily routine.  After a quick photo, the miner continued his trek down to the weighing station and we worked our way to the lip of the crater where we caught our first glimpse of the blue flames below.  

A number of the miners work the midnight shift to avoid the sweltering sun.

The burning blue sulfur flames from the top of the crater.

The descent into the crater was challenging not only because the path was littered with loose rocks, but also because of the lingering and nauseating sulfuric gases that permeated the air.   Again, I found myself in awe of the men who called this their daily commute.  It was nearly 4:00am by the time we reached the crater floor, but still dark enough to admire the blue flames.  After feeble attempts to capture the beauty on film, Supri led us to the workers' tent.  He explained that most visitors make the treacherous hike down to the crater to see the blue flames and then hike back out in order to see the sunrise.  Once they see the inside of the crater in daylight, however, they want to climb down again.  So, we were just going to stay put, wait for dawn to break, and enjoy our visit with the miners.  While I watched the miners pour molten sulfur into molds to make souvenirs (by selling just one of these they can earn what they would for porting a load of sulfur), Brian went back outside to visit with some of the men and give away more cigarettes.

I told you they were feeble attempts…

This one is a little better (it's the light blue stuff on the left).

Chilling (Brian says we were sleeping...I say we were chilling) in the miners' tent.

The miner-turned-artist at work.

The souvenirs.  The flower on the left is still cooling down, hence why it's more orange than yellow. First person to post a comment on this blog post is guaranteed to get one ;-)

When the black night was finally replaced by the blue glow of dawn, Brian and I felt as if we were on a different planet.  The ground beneath us was carpeted with fragments of yellow sulfur, the walls of the crater were tones of shimmering white and gray, billowing clouds of sulfuric gas escaped from the earth and filled the sky, and red molten sulfur dripped out of pipes.

Ijen in the light of day.

By this time more miners had arrived and were busily gathering slabs of sulfur and arranging them in their baskets for optimal balance.   A few had on boots and masks, but the "uniform" seemed to be flip flops, pants, and t-shirts with the occasional scarf wrapped around their heads or mouths.  Other visitors were now starting to come down into the crater to take pictures of the men at work, but, aside from Brian, no one was engaging with the miners.  

Brian hanging out with his boys.  If you look closely, you can see a white spec in the mouth of the miner on the left -- he was already smoking the cigarette Brian gave him.

 How to mine sulfur. Step 1: Find a good slab of sulfur.

Step 2: Break the slab of sulfur into smaller pieces.

Step 3: Carry the smaller pieces to your basket. 

Step 4: Strategically load the sulfur into your basket.

The climb out of the crater was not as unnerving as the one into it, but then again we weren't carrying upwards of 130lbs.  We continued to pass miners along the way, including one who has been working the mines for forty years.  Some were resting, some were carrying a load of sulfur, and some were en route to fill their baskets.  By the time we reached the lip of the crater, we were out of cigarettes and almost finished with the bottle of Sprite.  

Hiking out of the crater.

The view from above.  The blue in the background is the lake.

The miner on the right has been working there for 40+ years and is very proud of that fact.  He still wears only flip-flops despite having broken several of his toes over the years.

As we were making our way down the mountain, we overheard a visitor watching from the lookout say that after witnessing the miners' working conditions, she was never going to buy white sugar again (the sulfur from Ijen is used for vulcanizing rubber and bleaching sugar).  Curious, we asked Supri more about the quality of life for the miners.  Concerning their health, he remarked that when he had taken miners to the doctor, the ailment was most often back or shoulder pain.  He also pointed out that the miners' income is quite good considering their level of education and they make more mining than they would on a rubber, sugar, or cocoa plantation, though the miners are trying to earn 1000 Rupiah for every kilo of sulfur they carry out of the volcano instead of 800 Rupiah.  Supri did note that there used to be close to 400 miners and those who left did so to try to get a better paying job.  

Like the dichotomous nickname for the crater - "where heaven meets hell" - we acknowledge the mining operation as both good and bad, as impressive and oppressive, as more gray than black and white.  Then again, we spent time with the miners; we asked questions, we listened, and we observed.  There's that saying that everything is more complicated than it seems.  What we learned from our morning IN Mt. Ijen is that sometimes to get even just a glimpse of the complexity, you have to delve deep beneath the surface.

Brian took the miners up on their challenge to lift the sulfur.  He was thankful that was all he had to do.