6

PELABUHANRATU
(ROBBER TAPPING)
JAVA INDONESIA
their betchaks gaily, Ramayana ballet, sunsets, mountains, lovers, rock-music groups. reminiscent of the Afghan trucks.
Past more small well-kept houses, + of course.
ubiquitous families of ducks + chickens, I went
on, + entered a large rubber plantation. In Malaysia
I'd seen them only from the road from buses. They
are perhaps Man's most beautiful "cropland" with
silvery trunks sandwiched between lush foliage
above and a grassy carpet below. Straight rows
marched on up + over the crest + down into valley.
A mountain top visible between rows. On every tree
was a little cup + spout, and a large diamond-shaped
pathcy of cutaway bark. The gooey white "rubber" sap
trickled down the bark, drip, drip, drip, into the cups
which were often nearly overflowing. (one sprout was
severed + rubber flowed uselessly to ground!) A tapper
was moving down the line, emptying each cup into a
bucket + replacing the cup if the tree was still oozing
sap. When his bucket was full he returned to larger
bucket on road. I met him, no English, but I took
photo + many smiles. Walking on, I reached the
crest of the hill, + a wide vista opened out. A green
cliff on the left + rice paddies far below, hugged by
a tiny village. Women in enormous red coolie-hats
tended the rice. In the distance were some low mts
and I could hear faintly a rushing stream. The nearby
sea was hidden but the breeze as tangy with
salt. I left the jeep track + naturally, took the
path down into the valley. I possibly was the first

PELABUHANRATU
(ROBBER TAPPING)
JAVA INDONESIA
their betchaks gaily, Ramayana ballet, sunsets, mountains, lovers, rock-music groups. reminiscent of the Afghan trucks.
Past more small well-kept houses, + of course.
ubiquitous families of ducks + chickens, I went
on, + entered a large rubber plantation. In Malaysia
I'd seen them only from the road from buses. They
are perhaps Man's most beautiful "cropland" with
silvery trunks sandwiched between lush foliage
above and a grassy carpet below. Straight rows
marched on up + over the crest + down into valley.
A mountain top visible between rows. On every tree
was a little cup + spout, and a large diamond-shaped
pathcy of cutaway bark. The gooey white "rubber" sap
trickled down the bark, drip, drip, drip, into the cups
which were often nearly overflowing. (one sprout was
severed + rubber flowed uselessly to ground!) A tapper
was moving down the line, emptying each cup into a
bucket + replacing the cup if the tree was still oozing
sap. When his bucket was full he returned to larger
bucket on road. I met him, no English, but I took
photo + many smiles. Walking on, I reached the
crest of the hill, + a wide vista opened out. A green
cliff on the left + rice paddies far below, hugged by
a tiny village. Women in enormous red coolie-hats
tended the rice. In the distance were some low mts
and I could hear faintly a rushing stream. The nearby
sea was hidden but the breeze as tangy with
salt. I left the jeep track + naturally, took the
path down into the valley. I possibly was the first