Kawah Ijen Sulfur Miners

This post is long overdue. What amazed me more than the natural beauty of the crater lake was the daily struggle of the local sulfur miners. Twice each day, they walk several kilometers up the mountain, climb down into the volcano, dig out 60-80 kg of sulfur, climb back out of the volcano, and walk back down the hill. According to Lonely Planet, they make about 600 rupiah per kilo (roughly USD $10 per day).

A miner mentally prepares to descend into the crater

There weren't many tourists, but most of the ones that do come here stop at the lip of the crater and don't climb down the steep path to the lake. Our guidebook mentioned that a French tourist fell and died some years back. Perhaps it happened again, because by the time we got there it was "forbidden" to go down.

Kurang selamat

So naturally I went down. At first I was hesitant, but I really wanted to do it. After all, I thought, if these guys can do this every day with 80 kgs on their back, why wouldn't I be able to? And it helped that one of the miners was urging me to come with him. I pointed at the sign and said to him in Indonesian "less safe," but he shrugged his shoulders, and so off we went. Janet decided to wait at the top, as she's prone to trip on your average sidewalk.

Following my guide down into the abyss.

As we got closer to the bottom, gusts of smoke would hit us. My guide gestured that I use my shirt to breath through. At one point the smoke was so thick that he pulled me to the ground. We squatted there, blinded by smoke, coughing. At the bottom, it was almost constantly that thick.

Just another day at the office.

When we got to the bottom, two guys with gas masks told me not to go further. When they weren't looking, my guide pulled me further. After more than five minutes, I handed my guide 7000 rupiah and headed back up the cliff.

The bottom of the volcano during a very brief moment with less sulfur smoke.

Sulfur smoke is not pleasant. You duck down and hold your breath. You can't see. You can't breath. Your eyes burn. Tears pour out. Your lungs burn a different type of burn than you've ever felt. A sharp, crisp, poisonous burn. And if you're my guide or the hundreds of other laborers, you suck it up and dig out some rocks.

As you can see, there is no high-tech pack to distribute the weight to his hips. All of the weight is resting on one small part of his shoulder.

If you ever hear me complaining about my job at any point in my life, please punch me. Much respect for these guys.