Once upon a time, a woman of enchanting beauty named Sri Tanjung Sidopekso caught the eye of King Sulahkromo. A chance to seduce the beauty arose when her husband, Patih R. Sidopekso, was sent away on a mission. But the king’s advances were met with resistance. Fuelled by frustration, he spun a web of deceit, which triggered her infidelity accusation.
When Sidopekso confronted his wife, he refused to believe her innocence and declared his intent to end her life by the river. Unshaken, Sri Tanjung vowed that her body would not reek when cast into the water as proof of her purity. As the river claimed her lifeless form, a miracle happened—the water became fragrant, and a sweet scent rose from the current. The river, and the city that grew around it, from that moment on was known as Banyuwangi, or “fragrant water”, forever memorialising the sacred love and tragic fate of Sri Tanjung.
More folk tales emerged from the far eastern end of Java Island, not to mention local myths vivified by mysticism.
So when a South Jakartan twenty-something-year-old decided to spend her birthday away from the metropolis’ hubbub, Bali was a destination far in her mind. Ajeng Suhardiman jetted to Banyuwangi for four days and three nights—alone.
Disappearing in the name of “me time” has always been a recurring theme for her birthdays over the years. Regardless, her decision to Banyuwangi set the course for the unimaginable at the time.
Suhardiman was reeled to a beachside hotel with no desire to explore Banyuwangi. “A week to my birthday getaway, I realised that I didn’t want to spend it entirely in the hotel like I usually do,” she uttered. Thank goodness the hotel provided experiences around the city, which catered to her definition of comfort travel. Banyuwangi ultimately proved to be beyond comfort and rejuvenation—it became a new experience, synonymous with “breathing fresh air”, as she gushed.
Suhardiman is of Javanese-Sundanese descent and cherishes reading poetry and abstract painting. “People often comment abstract painting is ‘lazy art’, but the way I do it, it’s a mix of emotions turned into a whole; telling the same story that could have different chapters. I find it fun!” she shared.
Being around her is never a dull moment. Underneath the river of laughter she streams endlessly to her surroundings is the stillness of a forest, parallel to Alas Purwo.
“Alas Purwo” means “the first forest” or “the starting forest”, thus considered the beginning of Java Island, precisely situated in the southern part of Banyuwangi. It was initially designated as a wildlife sanctuary in 1930, then later became a national park in 1992. This national park hosts one of the most complete ecosystems in Java, including beaches (coastal forests), mangrove forests, bamboo forests, savannas, and lowland rainforests, covering approximately 44,037 hectares.
Its allure is unmatched, although the site is shrouded in myths and mystical tales, with many considering it a mystical kingdom. Locals believe that Alas Purwo is the birthplace of Sang Hyang Widhi (the Creator God in Javanese mythology). “Haunted” and “sacred” are therefore two words that pop up when one has lived long enough in Indonesia. To Suhardiman, “serene” is a more fitting description.
“I’m familiar with the greenery due to my upbringing in Puncak. I thought Alas Purwo would be like Puncak—it wasn’t as dense, nor was it raining, but it felt cool in a strange, unexplainable way,” she unfolded. “Every driver I spoke to said it’s hot in Banyuwangi whereas the sun was comforting inside the forest. I didn’t feel sweaty or annoyed by the heat, which was a surprise.”
Another trip around the sun greeted Suhardiman. To honour that, she leaned on reconnecting with nature to disappear… even for a bit, or in this case, the whole day. Nothing drove Suhardiman to Alas Purwo. Nothing. Except for the universe’s role in prompting her to fully immerse herself in the scene. “I chose to visit Alas Purwo because it seemed to be an effortless trip,” she added.
Indonesian spiritual experts advise that a rule of thumb when visiting Alas Purwo is to maintain proper behaviour since it is supposedly the first inhabited site of ancestral spirits. Wildlife roam freely, while also a myriad of unseen beings with unusual forms, some of which are believed to be the offspring of humans and mystical entities, created as sacrifices. Any visitor disguised in ill intentions or disrespectful behaviour may be seized by these supernatural beings.
Hearing unfamiliar, mysterious name-calling is also plausible. This tale has been passed down through generations. Turning around or searching for the source of such voices will only strike disasters of lifelong misfortune and again, abduction.
The tales continue… Alas Purwo was once known as a meditation place for kings to attain knowledge. Over time, many have come seeking prosperity. Some even meditate for days in hopes of receiving a vision or spiritual guidance. Others visit in search of the Pusaka Sumelang Gandring keris, a relic of the Majapahit Kingdom (a traditional dagger) that remains hidden within Alas Purwo to this day. Whoever retrieves this keris will presumably have all of their wishes granted.
Chatters in a mix of Indonesian, East Javanese, and Balinese languages spurred as Suhardiman glanced through the car's window, piercing into lusciousness. She encountered a temple left in ruins where its caretaker was solely lounging. Yet, her driver was appalled by her realisation.
Kawitan Site (Situs Kawitan) is reported to be the remains of a gate from the 14th-century Blambangan Kingdom. The public unveiling of the site prompted its designation as a sacred spot for Hinduism during the Pagerwesi celebration in the Tegaldlimo area. Pura Luhur Giri Salaka was constructed nearby; larger, this temple has maintained the preservation of the original.
“Please take a picture of this corner to seek permission for your visitation,” said the caretaker to Suhardiman. She obliged.
The October breeze and dreamy fallen leaves pleasantly carried Suhardiman into serenity - all while the caretaker shared fascinating accounts of local traditions and beliefs. This history buff was mesmerised.
“The caretaker challenged me to sit at that spot all alone for an hour, to identify whether I was out of my mind or not. I could've stayed there for two hours, and nothing about it felt strange. It was peaceful; I felt calm. That's a lot to take in for someone who often goes emotionally overboard,” she recalled.
She declined the man's challenge despite how appealing it sounded. The faint gnawing in her stomach won over the subdue, whisking her to the savanna where a packed lunch awaited.
Suhardiman was at a loss for words and time. The mere movements of the animals just metres away bewitched all of her attention and strikingly blossomed a deeper soothing sensation of her being.
“I didn’t feel any mystical energy at all. Perhaps if you want to find something, just follow it, and you’ll find it. It's still odd for the driver not to notice the Kawitan Site, though it's on Google,” she reckoned. “It’s real—the temple is real, the people are real. Maybe the driver didn’t see it, or something else, but I’m not too sure.”
Questions regarding her decision to visit Alas Purwo raised by the locals were based on curiosity, she exalted. Nevertheless, she felt welcomed and even called back in a way. Why? She didn't experience anything extraordinary nor was she suddenly free from all her problems. She's simply delighted to return to the forest once more.
“I’d be happy if I ended up in the savanna again. I spent hours there! There’s just something about the forest that draws me in. It’s not that I’m hypnotised—I felt profoundly focused and calm there. Nothing detrimental whatsoever,” she expressed.
Anyone interested in visiting Alas Purwo needs to truthfully answer this: What's your intention for going there?
Suhardiman encourages those who intend to satisfy their curiosity. “It’s one of the natural wonders that will captivate you. I’ve lived in the countryside and been in forests, yet, Alas Purwo is different - it’s special,” she exclaimed. A mystical purpose, however, is not a point she'd extend. The most vital remark she has to share is to listen and follow the little voice inside that tells you, “Don’t do it”.
“Go with a positive attitude, and virtue will come to you. That’s what happened to me. I’ll definitely carry that energy on my return,” she smiled.
Suhardiman’s take on Alas Purwo contrasts the flowing waves of tattles. Do different takes exist?