West Sumbawa. A small, beautiful, charming fragment of a town, steeped in memories. Not just an old story or a tale without a sound. West Sumbawa is both a name and a mosaic of history. A history of struggle and resistance against colonialism. Taliwang, the heart of West Sumbawa is an inspiration of courage.
Fragments of small hills fence the corners of this city village. Beautiful and sustainable. The wind blows, bringing news to the dangling lotus strands. Lebo Lake Embracing the ripples of fishermen's lives. Fishing nets and lines are friendly, entangled in the brown mud.
Lebo, like an art performance dressed in elaborate stage makeup. Majestic. Astonishing. Enchantingly captivating in the ripples of a parade of floating lotus flowers. Fishermen, snakehead fish, tilapia, catfish, and plankton parasites mingle in a mutualistic symbiotic relationship.
Mantar, a unique village, at an unnatural height. Cool, shrouded in morning mist. The people are friendly. Living in the spirit of simplicity. Mantar is imagery A life of eternal tranquility. Its inhabitants live with a spirit that never falls. In silence, they are unheard of. Like the remains of fallen leaves in the courtyard. Quiet. Indescribably comfortable. Indescribable silence.
Mantar, a gallery adorned with makeup. No vanity. Always looking to be embraced. From a distance, a delicately dressed beauty lurks tenderly. In a wink, Mantar quips, "Surf with me. I'll throw you into the seduction of nirvana."
The morning sun greets us. Behind the tree branches, as the wooden windows open, warmth pours in. Rarak Ronges, A slice of a tourist village, this is where the story of Robusta begins. A masterpiece of flavor, one that compels visitors to whisper to each other, "Taste never lies."
Rarak, always a feast for the eyes. Discarding cheesy romances. She is the compass of life. Determines the cardinal directions of the eastern peak. Piercing the mist, blowing the mist. The splash of waterfalls, crashing against the rocks, loud and irregular, creating joyful notes. Shocking the silence of his eardrums.
Rarak, a name and a figure that refuses to be defeated. Never fading, unfazed by obstacles. At the angle of the earth's slope, it grows towering. Even though it's sad, it screams out. Hoarsely wrapped in the laughter of silence, swallowed by the night, welcoming intimacy.
Mountain Samoan, when viewed, it appears simple. Beneath his feet appears a real painting. Meandering rice fields. The lowlands stretch out like Nirvana. A blend of God's beautiful blessings. Tight as fingers glued together, stuttering like a hoe. Samoan is a living image that does not fade even though it is sucked dry by the sweat of trials.
Samoan's feet are firm, firmly planted. Embracing wrath, spreading blessings. He halts storms, tightly holds the waves. Semoan, always faithfully accompanying, whether in anxiety or the happiness of the people at his feet. Teaching love to haters. Guiding lost travelers.
Maluk, a wealthy village. A village known for its abundant agricultural produce, gold, and diamonds. The hills of gold meandered endlessly. The gold spilled out in abundance. Its brilliance dazzled the eyes, forcing fragile souls to their knees. Ā
Millions, billions, even trillions of luxuries could be afforded. Maluk wasn't tempted, preferring to be humble. She chose to have simple things. She kept her brokenness to herself. She didn't demand more. She only wanted to give, not beg. That was the way God taught her.
Bintang Bano, Tiu Suntuk. Two giant dams. Observing the might of architects modern. A blend of art and the arrangement of ripples. Kilometers of irrigation canals are revitalized. Farmers are watered. Rice fields stretch green across the expanse. Bintang Bano, an icon of happiness. Tiu Suntuk, a symbol of gratitude.
Taliwang. Indescribable beauty. No hope or noise. Only a glimpse of happiness. Taliwang is not a soul shrunken by the cold. Taliwang is a spirit gripped by fear.
Go Taliwang, West Sumbawa Rises!
Wallhu'alam bish shawab.
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