Turquoise and Brimstone at Ijen

25-August-2010

Being a sulfur miner at Kawah Ijen is not your normal 9 to 5 job. Just imagine what it would be like if you were one of the hardy 1300 souls who claim this rare profession. Your workday starts between 2 and 4 AM amongst the pre-dawn mist shrouding the volcano-studded Ijen Plateau in East Java. Your commute consists of a 3 kilometer hour-long uphill trek to the rim of the Ijen Volcano, ascending approximately 2000 feet in elevation. At the rim of the volcano, its top blown off and filled with a surreal turquoise-colored lake you look downward in the pre-dawn darkness and gaze at billowing sulfur gases. Welcome to your office.

You point your toes downward and begin the 30 minute, steep descent to the level of the lake and the origin on the pungent, thick sulfur smoke. Stumbling downward in the darkness you reach the sulfur mine, toxic gases vented through massive metal pipes. This view is familiar to you, but is foreign to nearly everyone else on this planet. Braving the billowing toxic gases, your eyes watering with a piece of rag tied around your mouth to prevent you from inhaling too much gas you approach the sulfur deposits. Working quickly and constantly watching the movement of the gas to avoid being enveloped in its acrid wrath you use a long metal bar to chip away chunks of solid sulfur. It glows a phosphorescent yellow in the morning light. You cough and wipe your eyes.

Having chipped away a number of large chunks of pure sulfur you transfer your load into two large hand woven baskets connected by a piece of two inch thick bamboo. You hoist the load onto one shoulder, its weight nearly crushes you, and you strain to begin the next stage of your workday. You typically carry 60-80 kilograms (132 to 176 pounds) per load, and because you are an Indonesian, this exceeds your body weight. Your legs nearly buckle as you make your way up the steep trail to the crater rim. With frequent rests you make it to the weigh station (about half-way down the mountain), where you load your 2 baskets (the pole in between) onto a scale. You are given a voucher for the load (through which you will receive your pay check), and proceed to deposit your load at a place of your choosing close to the bottom of the mountain. After a quick rest (it is now 2-3 hours into your workday) you head back uphill to gather your second load of the day.

This afternoon, Rachel and I relax at the Arabika coffee plantation, and reflect on the ease and simplicity of our lives. We are now in the Ijen Plateau, and we, too, woke before dawn and made our way to Kawah Ijen. Our hike to this beautiful volcano to witness its rugged beauty, lush forest, and unbelievable lake was a frolic when compared to the workday of miners who make their living hauling heavy loads and dodging sulfur gases. The landscape of Kawah Ijen is undeniably beautiful. Sulfur gases constantly drift across the lake’s turquoise water. Intricately fluted volcanic ridges reveal themselves through drifting clouds and sulfur fog. Stable substrates are cloaked in vegetation dominated by waist-high ferns dripping in morning dew. It is easy to fall in love with the beauty of this volcanic landscape. This beautiful scene serves as the backdrop to (at least in our minds) one of the world’s strangest professions.

An average miner will haul two loads totaling about 140 kilograms of sulfur to market in a single workday. Each miner receives 600 rupiah per kilogram of sulfur. This amounts to a grand total of about $9.20 per day. While this amount seems like a pittance, $9.20/day is actually not that bad in Indonesia, where a police officer receives about half this amount for a day’s work. And, quite counter intuitively, Ijen’s sulfur miners apparently suffer few health problems as a result of their occupation. With our own eyes we witnessed many men twice our age carrying loads we could not even lift up steep, unstable slopes. Maybe Ijen’s sulfur miners will lend us some perspective when, in the not too distant future, we curtail our wanderings and find ourselves back in the daily grind.