Gavin Marshall

The Clove Oil Story.

This story begins as the hopes for great images from kawah Ijen become lost. What also is becoming aparent is is am not well and i have had little sleep after the climb. So as not to disturb others in the room I left with camera just before day break to see what all the trucks going past the hotal were doing. Light was very poor but I could see that there was standing room only on the back of the trucks. They were full of woman on the way to work somewhere?

As the light improved a small group of locals gathered around me and we tried to talk about the day and as always about photos.I had to quickly excuse my self from the group as one of the trucks appeared to be stopping and I needed to cross the road to get the shot. With full concentration on the road then getting the shot I was only vaguely aware of much yelling going on from the group I had just left. As the yelling seemed light hearted and friendly I decided it could wait till I had finished.

On reaching the back of the truck I was met a man in red and there was even louder yelling. Again, it was friendly but I was still confused. The man in the red shirt was demanding my camera and I was rapidly making shots. All of a sudden I was pushed towards the back of the truck.....suddenly the light went on.....they all wanted me up on the back of their truck to take my picture.

In fact the truck had actually stopped to pick up one of the people I was talking to and the whole thing had been arranged with much shouting as I crossed the road. How lucky could one be.There was barely space to stand at the very back of the deck and there was nothing to stabilize myself with. I was given a very warm hand of friendship and clung there for some time.On regaining my camera I took the next shot looking towards the cab and people were literally jammed in like sardines in a tin.

With much yelling, laughter and screams they were gone and I am sitting again alone on the side of the road. Still wondering what these lovely people were going to do for their day. The truck stopped about 500 meters up the road to let a man off and he just disappeared down a small track in to the jungle. I went to investigate. Nothing appeared to be there and I asked a passerby what was there and he said " very, very bad" Not that helpful really so I continued on up the road. After 10 minutes with nothing further to see I began my return journey. Suddenly there before me in the same spot at the end of the track was the lady with a bandana and checked shirt. She had a machete in her hand and I assumed she was going down the track to harvest grass for the goat. I tried with my eyes and actions to ask if I it was ok for me to follow. With some vague approval we were off. Some 400 meters into the jungle she was gradually pulling away from me when we came upon the furnace and other out buildings. There were 5 or 6 other people standing around apart from the two men feeding leaves into the furnaces. One one was able to help solve the mystery of the buildings. One lady offered s\"smoke" while another made out to rub something in to her skin. Out the back there was a large especially designed pool of water with internal plumbing in it. One of the fire stokers offered to show me into the room where the material was run off into drums having been piped through the pool of water. I thanked all concerned and payed my guide a small fee, smiled at every one ad left have more questions than answers.

Back at the hotel our team had organised a coffee break at the local luwak coffee house. So we were taken some 200 meters down a small dirt track to a small house where they kept the luwaks who make the coffee. It was here with the help of our driver that I managed to find out about the process I had seen and the ladies going to work were all part of the clove oil manufacturing process.