Indonesia's Most Dangerous Job: Mining in an Active Volcano

The mesmerizing sulfur-induced blue flames of Indonesia’s Mount Ijen attract hundreds of tourists every night, but mask one of the most dangerous jobs in the world: sulfur mining.

Sulfur miners of Mount Ijen. Candra Firmansyah. CC BY-SA 4.0. 

Sulphur-induced blue flames are nothing more than a mining by-product, but they have turned Indonesia’s Mount Ijen into a popular tourist attraction. Lured in by the magical phenomenon, I joined a tour group and hiked up the volcano in the hopes of getting a glimpse of the beautiful fire. But the shocking truth of what I discovered was far from magical. Sulfur miners were working in the crater. Slaving away among the fire and smoke, they wore no special clothing nor eye protection. Some did not even have gas masks. Watching the men was heart-rending, and made the blue flames seem completely insignificant. The reality of Mount Ijen is that sulfur miners work everyday in the most unforgiving environment in the world.

Blue flames at Mount Ijen. Thomas Fuhrmann. CC BY-SA 4.0.

Mount Ijen, in Indonesia, is an active volcano situated on East Java, the closest island to the holiday-maker hotspot of Bali. Possessing unique characteristics, the views at Mount Ijen are otherworldly. The volcanic crater holds the largest highly acidic lake in the world, which beams with a vibrant, almost inviting turquoise blue. Above the lake are vivid yellow rocks that have been stained as a result of sulfur gasses condensing.

Mount Ijen. Taylor Girhiny. Used with the author’s permission.

While spectacular to see, many dangers lurk in the volcano. Aside from the unpredictable volcanic eruptions, earthquakes are common and have been known to cause landslides in the crater. There was even an earthquake in 2020 that triggered a seiche-type tsunami in the acid lake. The seismic activity caused the mountain to belch poison gas and generated a three-meter wave that swept across the crater,, killing a sulfur miner.

Despite these dangers, the sulfur has drawn miners to the volcano since 1968 and has become a trade passed down through families ever since. Known locally as the ‘devil’s gold’, it is considered a commodity worth high risk. Not only do miners risk a quick death while mining, but they also experience long-term health issues and have an average life expectancy of just 50 years old.

In the dead of night, when the air is at its coolest, sulfur extraction commences. Miners start by hiking the 2000 feet incline, the equivalent of two eiffel towers, before descending into the crater. At this point, the sulfuric smell of rotten egg takes over, making it hard to breathe. Pipes that travel below the surface provide access to the sulfur. The miners use fire to heat the ground, causing the sulfur to liquidize and trickle through the pipework onto the ground outside. Left to cool and dry, the ‘devil’s gold’ takes shape in the form of rich, yellow crystalized rocks.

Melted sulfur crystallizing. Taylor Girhiny. Used with the author’s permission.

During the heating process, large clouds of harmful gas burst out from beneath the arid, rocky terrain. Each thick, opaque cloud swallows everything in its path, causing a complete whiteout. Unable to see even one meter in front of them, miners are left sightless until the miasma disperse. The atmosphere was so harsh that my throat tightened up and I was coughing after just 10 minutes in the crater. Daily exposure to these toxic fumes leaves miners with life-long respiratory issues. One miner, Udi, explained to me that his own father became blind due to repeated exposure to the fumes and, despite seeing the suffering in his family, has no choice but to follow the same line of work. 

Handmade carrier full of mined sulfur. Eva Adorisio.

Once the sulfur has been processed, it must be carried out of the volcanic crater. A steep path consisting of unsteady rocks is the only way out and, with no technology to aid in their efforts, miners must physically transport every piece of the precious material. They precariously balance up to 170 pounds of sulfur, more than their bodyweight, on their handmade shoulder carriers. Without proper back support, miners suffer back problems and often swelling in the shoulders.

Sulfur produced at Mount Ijen is sold on and used in a variety of products including detergents and cosmetics, and is even used to whiten sugar. According to Udi, one kilogram of sulfur is sold for 1000 Indonesian Rupiah ($0.065). If a miner sells a full load of sulfur that may have taken all night to produce, he will make 75,000 Rupiah (approximately $5). Surprisingly, this makes sulfur mining one of the better paid jobs in this remote area of Java. With high poverty rates, it is clear why locals risk their lives to sustain a livelihood.

Miner selling miniature baskets of sulfur as souvenirs for tourists. Eva Adorisio.

The shocking reality is that local men are putting their lives on the line for what most in the West would consider pocket money. Witnessing them work tirelessly in the most inhumane conditions is an inconceivable sight, yet has become a spectacle for tourists to gawk at. The promise of stunning blue flames may sound alluring, but in truth Mount Ijen is a merciless place that no one should have to call work.

In 2017, Ijen Assistance raised $15,000 for relief work in the region from a music video following Bas, a sulfur miner, and his family. 

Novo Amor & Lowswimmer - Terraform (official video)

TO GET INVOLVED

Providing aid after natural disasters, Islamic Relief has been working in Indonesia since 2000. After the earthquakes of 2006 and 2009, the organization responded immediately, distributing emergency supplies and later rebuilding a hospital and school. They also work to reduce the effects of poverty and have a variety of development projects across Indonesia.

Currently, there are no organizations working directly to improve the conditions for sulfur miners at Mount Ijen. Despite previous campaigns raising awareness and money, such as the ‘Terraform’ music video, miners continue to work in the same harsh conditions.

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Eva Adorisio

Eva is an avid traveler and writer from Bristol, England. In her writing, she aims to show the true nature of what a place is really like. Her Italian roots have led to a love of food, culture and language. She also spends her time staying active out in nature and is always searching for the next adventure. 

Overpopulated Indonesia Fears Baby Boom Due to Coronavirus

After months of telling its citizens to stay at home, Indonesia is now facing fears of a potential baby boom. With the country under quarantine from COVID-19, many people have stopped going to clinics to get contraceptives out of fear of catching the virus. This projected increase in pregnancies comes after extensive efforts by the country to encourage smaller families, an action taken in order to fight against the concern of child malnutrition. This problem is so severe that government vehicles drove around the cities and pleaded with the public through loudspeakers: “You can have sex. You can get married. But don’t get pregnant. Dads, please control yourself. You can get married. You can have sex as long as you use contraception.”  

The National Population and Family Planning Board (BKKBN) is Indonesia’s government-backed family planning program tasked with helping married couples manage the creation of their families. BKKBN is widely successful and employs 24,000 counselors to help execute their mission, much of which includes distributing free contraceptives to the public. 

The agency recently determined that there had been a significant decrease in the use of contraception between March and April of 2020 and that about 10 million couples in the country no longer had access to a form of birth control. An increase in pregnancy rates is deeply concerning for the Indonesian government because the country is struggling to manage the current population size given its available space and resources. In order to try and alleviate some of these effects, the government has openly discouraged people from having large families for years and freely provided various forms of birth control. About half of those who use contraceptives receive monthly or trimonthly hormone injections, 20% use birth control pills and many use IUDs. Condoms remain unpopular, though, across the country. It is worth noting that abortion in Indonesia is only permitted if it is “to save the woman’s life.” There are many possible contributors to the drop in contraceptive use during this quarantine period, such as a fear of leaving the house to acquire contraceptives (especially from hospitals), closed contraception clinics and other closed health care providers. 

One significant consequence of Indonesia’s population struggles is child malnutrition, a problem that Indonesian President Joko Widodo promised to alleviate within 4 to 5 years. More severe cases of child malnutrition (especially when paired with poor hygiene) can result in child stunting, a condition where the child is more than two standard deviations below the median of child growth standards as determined by the World Health Organization. If children are experiencing stunting then they are more susceptible to pneumonia, diarrhea and a weakened immune system. Given that COVID-19 is known to be more fatal for those with compromised immune systems, this is an especially pertinent concern. Long-term effects include an increased chance of experiencing chronic diseases such as hypertension and a lowered IQ. According to the organization 1,000 Days Fund, a group dedicated to the elimination of stunting, children with stunting can miss about a year of school because of the sickness. While Widodo has found some success in lowering the number of child stunting cases in the past few years, this period of quarantining may prove to be a major setback.

BKKBN announced that Indonesia should expect about 420,000 more babies than the average 4.8 million in the upcoming year. One demography expert at the Indonesian Institute of Sciences, Dr. Augustina Situmorang, believes pregnancy spikes are most likely to occur in low-income families who relied on the previously-accessible birth control provided by BKKBN in addition to young women who lost their jobs, had to return to their hometowns, and then had to get married due to social pressures. 

Indonesia’s health care system is already working overtime and has suffered considerably from COVID-19, registering more than 33,000 cases and over 1,900 deaths. Nevertheless, the government is attempting some preventive measures to combat more potential pregnancies. This includes allowing access to multiple months of birth control pills at a time, making door-to-door deliveries of contraceptives along with emergency supplies, and hoping to distribute contraceptives to 1 million people on June 29, dubbed “National Family Day.” Going forward, the Indonesian government will have to move efficiently if it wants to limit the burden felt by the Indonesian health care system with future generations.

Phoebe Jacoby

is a Media Studies major and Studio Art minor at Vassar College who believes in the importance of sharing stories with others. Phoebe likes to spend her free time reading, drawing, and writing letters. She hopes to continue developing her skills as a writer and create work that will have a positive outward effect.

Gender Matters in Coastal Livelihood Programs in Indonesia

Significant investments have been made in improving the well-being of Indonesian coastal communities in recent decades. However, most of these programs have not tackled gender inequalities.

Our team studied 20 coastal livelihood programs implemented across the Indonesian archipelago from 1998 to 2017. Our aim was to see how gender issues were considered in project design and implementation.

The Indonesian government, international governments, international development and lending agencies and non-government conservation organisations funded these projects.

Most projects included women in activities to enhance or introduce new livelihoods. However, 40% of the projects were gender-blind with respect to the design and impact of their activities. This means that activities may have further entrenched processes that disadvantage women by limiting their ability to pursue their own livelihood goals.

Only two projects (10%) used an approach that sought to challenge entrenched gender norms and truly empower women.

We recommend future projects be developed with a comprehensive understanding of gender norms within coastal communities. Participatory approaches that address and challenge these norms should be implemented. This will more effectively contribute to improvements in community well-being.

What we found

Our study, which assessed livelihood programs from various regions throughout Indonesia – including Bali, Sulawesi and West Papua – found 95% of programs had directly or indirectly included women. They did so through activities such as providing training and equipment to support alternative sources of income – e.g. making fish or mangrove-based food products.

Only three of the 20 projects provided gender awareness training for staff members and community facilitators. Only one provided similar training at the community level. In addition, two projects included a gender quota for community facilitators (30-50% female).

However, we found most projects applied either a “gender reinforcing” approach – reinforcing the existing gender norms and relations that underlie social and economic inequalities between men and women – or a “gender accommodating” approach – recognising these norms and relations but making no attempt to challenge them.

For example, many projects included separate “women’s activities”, such as handicrafts manufacture, or sought to increase household income by engaging women in income-generating enterprise groups. However, there was little consideration of how women would balance these activities with traditional caring and household roles, or of other ways women contributed to the household economy.

What we can do

Based on our findings, we recommend a “gender transformative” approach. Firstly, this approach involves mainstreaming gender issues across entire project cycles. Secondly, it involves working with coastal communities to identify and, where appropriate, challenge existing gender norms and social relations.

A core component of these projects is gender analysis. This is a process that identifies:

• men’s and women’s activities within the home and community

• differences in men’s and women’s access to, control over and use of livelihood resources

• differences in participation in processes that govern management of natural resources

• the gender norms and relations governing these differences

• their impact on men’s and women’s livelihood opportunities.

For example, the Coastal Field School program included participatory activities that documented men’s and women’s daily activities. This activity highlighted the time women spent on caring and household duties and unpaid supportive contributions to “men’s activities”.

When undertaken in a participatory manner, this analysis helps communities to identify local, and broader structural, barriers to gender equality. They can then identify options and potential actions for overcoming these barriers. This creates a more equitable social and economic environment.

Summary of the characteristics of approaches to gender in development programs (based on Lawless et al. 2017), with examples of typical project activities drawn from our. study. Stacey et al (2019).

This process must be sensitively facilitated because it may confront traditional power hierarchies within communities. It also takes time, which must be factored into project cycles.

The use of gender-transformative approaches can improve the well-being of coastal communities by identifying and reducing barriers to equitable participation in social and economic life. This increases the ability of men and women to pursue enhanced or alternative livelihood opportunities.

Finally, recognising women’s contributions, building women’s confidence and giving women voice to participate in local community planning processes creates greater opportunities for issues of concern to women to be included in the development agenda.

Natasha Stacey is a Associate Professor, Research Institute for the Environment and Livelihoods, College of Engineering, IT and Environment, Charles Darwin University

Emily Gibson is a PhD Candidate, Research Institute for the Environment and Livelihoods, Charles Darwin University

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

Postcard from Indonesia

An independent short film by Alen Smolic. A relaxing perspective of Indonesia, featuring various shots of the coast, the city, the countryside, and people going about their day.

For LGBTI Employees, Working Overseas Can Be a Lonely, Frustrating and Even Dangerous Experience

As the number of workers taking international assignments increases, companies have more responsibility to look after their LGBTI employees who face persecution while on assignment.

Russia, Nigeria, Saudi Arabia and Indonesia are becoming some of the most challenging expatriate assignment destinations for multinational firms, according to relocation business BGRS. This is in part because some of these countries advocate the death penalty for homosexuality. Other popular assignment destinations include Brazil, India, China, Mexico and Turkey, and these countries exhibit less sensitivity to homosexuality.

International assignments among multinational corporations have increased by 25% since 2000 and the number is expected to reach more than 50% growth through 2020.

The opportunity for LGBTI expatriates and their respective families to be part of an intra-company transfer is statistically likely. Worldwide, the LGBTI population is estimated to be between 1-in-10 and 1-in-20 of the adult population, and over 200 million people worldwide live and work in a country other than their country of origin.

LGBTI employees relocating for a foreign assignment are likely to experience additional hardships compared to the typical expatriate. It’s not uncommon for a destination country to refuse spousal visas if same-sex marriage is not legal in that country.

Likewise, access to healthcare and other benefits can be restricted for those relocating as a same-sex couple. In their study about LGBTI expatriates in dangerous locations, Ruth McPhail and Yvonne McNulty highlighted an interview with one LGBTI expatriate who experienced difficulty in gaining a spousal visa in Indonesia:

I knew my wife would never get a spousal visa in Indonesia; my experience had prepared me for that. So instead I wanted to be guaranteed two things: firstly that my wife could come and stay at least 90 days at a time with multiple entry, and second that if there was a medical evacuation or civil strife situation that we would be evacuated as a family. These two matters were more important to me than what type of visa we were allocated.

On a daily basis, a lack of access to or interaction with other LGBTI families may be common among LGBTI expatriates, and “fitting in” is not always guaranteed. From a career perspective, LGBTI people may face a difficult workplace climate, a perceived lack of career opportunities or status at work.

For example, research shows that lesbians are faced with unique challenges for their career development. These include identifying the right job, and finding a way to get the job and develop on the job. This can easily stifle their potential.

Taking all of this into account, the experience of LGBTI employees on international assignment can be a frustrating and lonely experience. As a result, LGBTI employees may not accept international assignments in the first instance, out of fear of being stigmatised, unsupported or discriminated against by colleagues and the legal system in the host country.

Helping LGBTI employees on assignment overseas

In the end, multinational companies have two choices. One is to turn a blind eye to the challenges faced by LGBTI employees and subsequently suffer the consequences of premature assignment returns and failed assignment costs. The other is taking an equally challenging path by acknowledging the challenges and concentrating on efforts to support LGBTI people through their international assignment experience.

The Williams Institute found that some multinational companies are leading the way by adopting policies specific to LGBTI people. They are reporting improved employee morale and productivity as a result.

If companies are aware that these issues deter LGBTI employees from considering international assignments in the first place, there are effective support mechanisms to use. One option is to map out an LGBTI employee’s career and where that fits with their life goals, because these influence their experience overseas.

Whether or not the employee chooses to disclose their sexual orientation could also affect their assignment overseas. These needs should be weighed up relative to the degree of assignment difficulty.

During an assignment companies can provide additional support to mitigate liabilities, like offering a voluntary reassignment or the option to return home prematurely. As with any good support system, the lines of communication must go both ways.

Multinational corporations have a duty of care to the LGBTI community to ensure that their international assignment experiences maintain a suitable level of support.

This article was originally published by The Conversation.

AUTHORS

MIRIAM MOELLER

Senior Lecturer, International Business, The University of Queensland

JANE MALEY

Senior lecturer in management, Charles Sturt University

RUTH MCPHAIL

Head of the Department of Employment Relations and Human Resources & Professor at Griffith University President RQAS GC, Griffith University

INDONESIA: The Kingdom of Bantar Gebang

“The world has enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed.” — Mahatma Gandhi

On the Indonesian island of Java, twenty kilometres from the fast-growing capital city Jakarta, is a malodorous, contaminated world with towering hills of half-decomposed waste, that stretches as far as the eye can see. This monstrosity is Bantar Gebang, the largest uncovered landfill site in Southeast Asia. It is also home to over 3,000 families, many with young children, who make a living amongst the garbage, scavenging what they can.

Jakarta, home to over 10 million people, produces more than 7,000 square metres of garbage per day — a figure that is still growing — and every year hundreds of thousands of tons of trash are indiscriminately dumped here, in the nearby district of Bekasi, at the massive Bantar Gebang landfill.

For the few outsiders who come to experience this place first-hand, it is a shocking wake-up call for the consequences of our over-consumption of the planet’s resources and the desperate need for better waste management. In a society enamoured with all things disposable, we are constantly having to find somewhere to put our rubbish. As general rule, far out of our sight.
 

On the road towards Bantar Gebang, what hits you first is the smell. Even before you arrive at the site, an overpowering stench of decomposing organic matter steadily invades the atmosphere. Next, the buzzing clouds of flies appear, and finally, the first mountains of waste come distantly into view. Many workers who move here say that when they first arrive they cannot eat, and that the smell makes them vomit constantly for the first few weeks.
 

Working day in, day out at the landfill, handling the rotting, decomposing rubbish with little to no protection takes a serious toll on the basic health of all the inhabitants here.

Yet, Bantar Gebang has become the poorest people’s El Dorado, a lucrative and chaotic place of individual enterprise where hundreds of families come to salvage what can be resold or eaten. Alongside the stray cats, goats, and cockroaches, they wade knee-deep through decomposing vegetables, soiled clothes, broken furniture, and festering waste of every kind, loading their baskets with glass bottles, tins, and plastics. Business here is booming, and the scavengers, some of them children as young as five, make around 30,000 rupiah (£2.20) a day. For many, this is as good a wage as they will find.

Every day new trucks arrive with more than 8,000 tones of rubbish from Jakarta, depositing their load anywhere they can find space, while bulldozers giant mechanical arms shift and mould the ever-growing mountains of waste.
 

Many families are accompanied by their young children, who live in the most insanitary conditions imaginable, in this breeding ground for germs and disease. You often see them padding about, barefoot in the rubbish, looking for something which could be used as a toy. Some children slip and injure themselves, and when wounds become infected, there is no medical service available on-site to help them. Many also suffer from suffer skin infections, bronchial problems, and intestinal worms from working on the landfill.
 

Amir, whose home is amongst these mounds of rubbish, waits for his mum who is working behind him. His favourite toy? A digger.

Some of these children were born here, brought into the world amongst the towering mounds of rotting waste that dominate the horizon. Every day, while parents are retrieving what they can resell or eat, these young children wait patiently for the next meal they will share as a family. This meal is often consumed directly off the ground, amidst the flies, foul odours, and trash.
 

The Bantar Gebang landfill was built on rice paddy fields in the district of Bekasi in 1989, and for some here, this is all they have ever known. Many are unskilled workers who have been scavenging in streets and rubbish bins their whole lives. Others, who once made their living digging the earth, are the former rice farmers whose land has been swallowed up by the relentless tide of garbage. Today, they all make a living by digging the ever-expanding “mountains” of Bantar Gebang, searching for their own personal treasure.
 

In this filthy and chaotic universe, I begin to understand how one man’s trash becomes another man’s means of survival.

Here, everything old finds a new purpose. Abandoned sofas and tables are often huddled together in impromptu ‘cafes’ where workers will pause to share a cigarette or have a cold drink, while ... You will also hear the call of Bantar Gebang’s resident imams wafting out over the landscapes of trash, but despite a strong sense of community at the landfill, many workers say that they are stigmatised and avoided if they ever cross its boundaries.
 

Today, the landfill is home to an estimated 3,000 families, and as Jakarta’s waste keeps growing, so does its population. Almost all residents live in makeshift shelters built from tarpaulins and scraps of metal as protection against the sun and rain. Those who have been there longer have fashioned huts from pieces of scrap wood, cardboard, old rugs, plastic advertisements, and nails rummaged from the landfill. During the rainy season, flood water rises and seeps into these dwellings. The water that is used to fulfill their daily needs is drawn from groundwater infected by leakages and sewage.

During the days I spend documenting life at Bantar Gebang, I do my best to show humanity, to take an interest in those living here, to simply be myself, and to convey that I consider those living and working here my equals.

Yet the foul smell is inescapable, the heat suffocating, and whenever I move I sweat, though I make no effort. When you find yourself in conditions like these, in an environment rife with the evidence of inequality, the only thing you feel is an overwhelming sense of gratefulness to have been able to satisfy your basic needs and a burning desire to do something to help. With my foreigner’s gaze, I cannot help but compare my everyday life to that of the men, women and children whose photographs I take. Some of them simply have no point of comparison, and live in acceptance of their condition.
 

Nila, one of the children who is growing up at the Bantar Gebang landfill, bathes her little brother in their family’s shelter.

Following the day-to-day existence of the people who call Bantar Gebang their home was also a lesson in the incredible strength and resilience of the human spirit. In the midst of these challenging conditions, people of all ages proved to me that love and joy will always exist even in the worst of places.
 

Andi, only a few years old, plays amongst the mounds of rubbish as his mother sifts through to salvage what she can.Andi, only a few years old, plays amongst the mounds of rubbish as his mother sifts through to salvage what she can.

On this occasion, I had travelled to Bantar Gebang to learn how I could assist the remarkable Resa Boenard. Brought to the area by her parents when she was just ten months old, Resa grew up one of Bantar Gebang’s children, surrounded by these vast, decaying mountains. At first her parent’s home was among rice fields, today, fifty metres of trash tower outside her windows.

Unlike so many others who live and work here, Resa had the chance to attend secondary school and to complete her studies, experiencing life outside this place, despite frequent bullying by her classmates for living on a landfill. Later, unable to afford the fees to attend university or to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor, Resa felt compelled to move back to Bantar Gebang, deciding that she would dedicate her time to helping the people here.
 

“Just because we are born among rubbish, doesn’t mean we are rubbish. My commitment to the people and young people here, it is still big in my heart. I have to do it.”  — Resa, founder of BGBJ

Determined to give other children living on the landfill the same opportunity she had, Resa has re-named the landfill ‘The Kingdom of Bantar Gebang’ and started an organisation called BGBJ, which stands for ‘the seeds of Bantar Gebang’, along with her British friend and co-founder John Devlin. Resa believes that the children at the landfill are like seeds, and when nurtured and supported, they will be able to gain an education and to see that they can become something else. At first, with no funding or other support, Resa simply opened her home to the children living on the dumpsite, and began.

Today, with both a hostel and community hub on the landfill, BGBJ aims to develop a healthy and sustainable way out of poverty for the children and families who live and work here, through education and employment. Since 2014, volunteers and travellers have been helping Resa to expand her work and to turn her neighbourhood into what she calls, “the best dump ever”. 

Here you can watch a short video interview I made with Resa during my time there. The positive spirit in Reza’s home and at BGBJ is simply amazing.
 

Sita, one of the young children whose families call the landfill their home, searches for toys amongst the rubbish.

Last year, waste management in Jakarta underwent a major shake-up, with multiple blockades and protests preventing trucks from entering the landfill, after disputes erupted between the Jakarta administration and their Bekasi counterparts. Angry at the stench of the never-ending stream of passing garbage trucks hauling waste to the landfill, which were now violating working hours and using a prohibited road, the protesters nearly paralysed Jakarta’s waste management during early November. The disputes were finally resolved when the city’s acting governor visited Bantar Gebang and promised to double the compensation provided for households located near the landfill to Rp 600,000 (around USD $45) every three months.
 

Ina, one of the luckier Bantar Gebang children, whose family have a small home with some concrete walls.

Though officials have admitted that Jakarta may need at least ten years to start fully addressing its significant waste management issues, some things look set to change. Recent initiatives to trap methane produced by the landfill and build on-site recycling facilities have eased Bantar Gebang’s pollution, and in 2016 a landmark agreement was made with Finnish energy company Fortum to develop an intermediate treatment facility (ITF) in the capital. 

Despite expert concerns that the incinerator at this new ITF may emit hazardous substances if plastic waste is not properly removed, it is expected to process 2,000 to 2,200 tonnes of waste per day, and is intended to help reduce the city’s long-term dependency on the Bantar Gebang landfill. Three more bids are currently being conducted for further ITFs in the city.
 

For now, however, life remains the same for the families and children of the Kingdom of Bantar Gebang, where Resa is affectionately called the ‘queen’. 

Taking things one day, and one project, at a time, BGBJ is not waiting for the government to take action and has ambitious plans for improving the lives of the children and families living at Bantar Gebang, such as a new school, a workshop, a tool shed, improved sanitation, and a computer lab. For the past year, they have also been hosting backpackers and travellers, who come to offer English lessons and to go on jalan-jalan or walkabout around the dumpsite. Providing an amazing opportunity for eco-tourism and cultural exchange these events have been a wonderful success with the kids.
 

So far, BGBJ has been completely independent, funding improvements with their own personal savings, with money generated from the day trips and overnight stays, and with donations from individuals and groups.

Today, they are raising USD $5,000 in seed funds for a workshop that will enable BGBJ to establish a sustainable social enterprise, called ‘BGBJ Style’. With the goal of producing a range of merchandise and upcycled products from the landfill, they have already begun by developing and producing their own natural insect repellant, balms, and candles. Offering alternative employment to some of the parents of BGBJ kids, this enterprise will generate an income so that BGBJ can continue to pay for and improve its services.
 

Nila, who lives with her family in a homemade shelter at the Bantar Gebang landfill, peeps out from behind a makeshift curtain.

Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” and it is up to all of us to do our bit. For my part, I have been inspired to do everything I can to help support Resa’s work. I hope you will join me.

Resa Boenard, the inspiring founder of BGBJ, with some the kids growing up at Bantar Gebang landfill.

Please help me support this amazing local organisation through their current GoFundMe campaign, where you will find more stories and details. More information can also be found about their work through the BGBJ website.
 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

ALEXANDRE SATTLER

Alexandre Sattler is a photographer, traveler, and producer of audio documentaries on our planet's diverse cultures, our shared humanity, and the environment.

INDONESIA: Life Is Short

Explore coastal Indonesia with Etienne Calmelet, who journeyed to West Sumatra with AIESEC, the world’s largest student-run organization, which focuses on providing a platform for youth leadership development. Etienne’s video diary documents the four months he spent in the city of Padang, where he worked at a radio station and lived with a local family. Each day, Etienne was visited by dozens of locals who had never met a foreigner before.

LEARN MORE ABOUT FILMMAKER ETIENNE CALMELET