chicken's hell

In New York, it's "Hell's Kitchen" (which is pretty identital to high criminal rate)
In Bandung, it's "Chicken's Hell" (which is pretty identital to something else)

Bandung, the literally cool city due to its proximity to a couple of active volcanic mountains and the pit of all that's hip and stylish among trendy fashionistas, is a fast growing city of two million population. It's narrow roads have a hard time accommodating bus loads of students from all over the country that don't seem to return to their hometown upon graduation. Which means: population increase! Not to mention fast growing satellite cities such as Tasikmalaya, Cianjur and Sukabumi, all newsly industrial towns.

The Paris van Java becomes the kid brother of Jakarta, weirdly inheriting various range of typical "urban problems". The most imminent being "clean water" problem. The head of directorate of geology stated that at present, Bandung has no clean water. Water does exist, but clean is another story. Despite a paradoxical statement from the regional state water company who said that they are in constant search of new spring waters sources sprawling in the suburbs of Bandung, Geology as the mother of ground waterism seems to know better. (don't sue me if i'm wrong, this is a blog, NOT a newspaper column!)

Melting toffee and thick ice blends best describes Cicadas River that runs through Cicadas area that host the bustling Cicadas Market. It's a medium-sized market of consumer goods, but it's still a busy one of wet and dry market. Not far away from the complex of Cicadas Market lies a a densely populated quarter where Cicadas River cuts through. Poor urbanites live in cramped houses with no if not minimum aeration and share wells as well as public toilets by the dozens. In fact, 25-30 families of four (rough counts) share a dug well of 20 meters deep, located less than ten meters away from the slurry toffee-water Cicadas River.

Right beside the parking ground of Cicadas Market lies an entrance to this Cicadas Quarter. Half of the width of the entrance is occupied by a small canal. In the evening, livestock traders takes the advantage of the murky Cicadas River to slaughter, disembowel, skin and wash their poultry on a small deck above the canal. Next to the parking ground where city slickers park their shiny vehicles before running for daily errands, the "ready-to-sale chickens" are hanged on a plastic string, waiting for potential buyers. That's the "Chicken's Hell" awright..

The small canal of Chicken Hell snakes its way through the dense quarter and meets up with the Cicadas River a few meters away in the middle of the neighborhood where the happy impoverished families are bathing, drinking and obeying the call of the nature.

Barely a block away, the glittering glamorous factory outlets go on.

Shop baby, shop till you drop,
and the Cicadas River flows till the last drop,
and I heard what the the Cree Indians have to say..

"Erst wenn der letzte Baum gerodet,
der letzte Fluss vergiftet,
der letzte Fisch gefangen ist,
werdet ihr feststellen,
dass man Geld nicht essen kann."

(Weisheit der Cree-Indianer)


First when then last tree has been cut,
the last river has been poisoned,
the last fish has been caught,
then you will realize,
than man cannot eat money.

(Cree Indian Prophecy)

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Indian photo credit:
http://www.popartuk.com/general/cree-indian-prophecy-3074-poster.asp

Other photos courtesy of: Myself.