The Ijen Crater

You can smell his acrid breath from far away, even when filtered through plantations of coffee and forests of cloves.  It'€™s an odor so noxious it should repel, yet it lures toilers who sacrifice their health in his service.

What they seek is colored gold, but it'€™s not the precious metal.

Most days '€” starting long before dawn '€” men jog down the mountain carrying raw sulfur slabs in baskets across their backs. Each load equals the weight of four full water-cooler barrels.

The baskets flex and creak and squeak in pain. The men work in silence, the bamboo groans for them.

The story of the Ijen Crater sulfur miners of Banyuwangi, East Java is well known overseas as an example of a hazardous job in an appalling work environment.  

It'€™s been featured on BBC television and in the mainstream press.  A new documentary, Where Heaven meets Hell by American cinematographer Sasha Friedlander, has already won several international awards.

Dawn and at work.
Consequently, thousands of tourists, mainly from Europe (though a few from Australia and Indonesia) come to wonder at the magnificent scenery '€“ and be shocked by the men'€™s lot.  Some give money to the miners, or buy sulfur souvenirs.

The men work in conditions that mirror 18th century Europe before industrial relations reforms and the rise of organized labor. Another view is that they are Indonesian luddites, fearing change and resisting available improvements.

The issue is far more complex than workers'€™ health and safety, though these are critical.  Also in the same basket is the shake-up of government responsibilities following decentralization.

The failure of authorities to enforce proper working conditions and care for their citizens is another factor in a business that'€™s allowed to continue despite the obvious dangers.

Sudden spurts of gas can kill. A slip into the hot water, said to be the world'€™s largest acid lake, can cause a ghastly death.  In 1976, 11 people reportedly died when a giant gas bubble blew out of the lake.

Every kilogram of the yellow mineral spewed from the volcano'€™s stinking bowels and lugged down the twisting, slippery mountain tracks earns a miner Rp 780 (67 US cent). The men say they want a minimum of Rp 1,000 '€” about 10 US cents more.

The world price varies, but averages more than 10 times the men'€™s current pay. With a load of 80 kilos twice a day a man can earn Rp 124,800.

That'€™s far better than the East Java base monthly wage of around Rp 1 million '€“ though not all employers pay even this. The men say they have no welfare benefits, no continuity of work or accident insurance, though this has been promised.

Night miner.
The 300 workers have families to support so more than 1,000 people depend on the mine, making the average individual income just above the UN poverty line of $2 a day.  So this is also about the state of the economy in faraway places. The much-boosted '€œemerging-middle class'€ isn'€™t surfacing here.

Technically, the miners are freelance contractors paid in cash on the spot.  The buyer, PT Candi Ngrimbi, reportedly has a monopoly on the trade.

Budi Wahono, head of mining in Banyuwangi regency, denied the government was indifferent to the workers'€™ plight.  He said they'€™d been issued with helmets, masks and boots, but many didn'€™t want to use them.

Responsibility for licensing the mine was being moved from the province to the regency. '€œThe company'€™s six-year permit expires this year and new local regulations will be introduced,'€ he said.

'€œRoyalties aren'€™t paid by the company but it'€™s taxed 25 percent on earnings and has to pay for surveys and mapping.

'€œIf it'€™s true that sick miners are still paying hospital fees then we'€™ll investigate and try to improve communications.'€

Weighing station.

Busy at work.
'€” Photos by Duncan Graham