In the world of climbers, it is often said that we wear our hearts on our sleeves. For me, however, my passion is represented by the chalk-dusted soul that lingers on my carabiners. After my third year teaching at Surabaya International School in Indonesia and pursuing my climbing during all of my downtime, my colleagues have finally started to grasp the depth of my dedication to rock climbing in Indonesia.
Instead of engaging in small talk about the local tourist sites, school gossip, or the latest Netflix show, their curiosity now revolves around a burning question: “Eman, where will you be climbing this weekend?”
This recognition of my adventurous spirit fills me with a sense of joy and accomplishment, knowing that others acknowledge and appreciate my commitment to the only real sport left.
My wife, who is also my most trusted climbing partner, beautifully captures the essence of my connection with climbing. She often says, “Eman’s passion for climbing is as intrinsic as a fish’s need to swim.”
I embrace this analogy wholeheartedly as I find myself continuously immersed in the world of climbing. From the majestic granite cliffs in Java to the hidden and captivating crags of Malaysia, I can’t get enough. With each climb, I desire more climbing.
A Trip Down the Memory Lane in Surabaya, Indonesia
Landing in Surabaya, Indonesia, I felt a surge of excitement as I stepped off the plane, armed with a trusty map and a sense of adventure. With whispers of hidden cliffs and untouched beaches swirling in my mind, I embarked on my first search. Determined to explore the unknown, I set off on a five-hour journey to a legendary beach that was said to have monkeys climbing on limestone cliffs.
Not much luck on the beach, but the Granite monolith rising 300 meters from the Jungle caught my attention. (Spikul)
As the days turned into weeks, my wanderlust led me to Madura. I was tantalized by the allure of Maduran Bull Races and limestone quarries. However, much to my disappointment, the quarries turned out to be as flat as a dropped rope.
Nevertheless, I ventured onward and stumbled upon the “Seven Kilometer White Sand Beach.” It was, however, strewn with boulders instead of rugged cliffs. Although it wasn’t exactly the Eiger, it did provide a fun opportunity for some easy bouldering.
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I explored Surabaya and its surrounding areas, experiencing a whirlwind of unexpected twists and turns. It proved to be a testament to the thrill of exploration as I embraced the surprises that came my way. Each new destination revealed the true essence of a place in the most unexpected moments. Equipped with my trusty map, I continued my journey, uncovering hidden gems and creating unforgettable memories along the way.
My colleagues soon realized the art of selective listening as they initially were fascinated by my weekend warrior tales. They shrugged off the idea that I would visit the National Mosque, deeming it too mainstream. Instead, they showed no interest in my spiritual sanctuary. A rumored cliff that promised nirvana through exhilarating fingertip holds and adrenaline rushes.
Nonetheless, I remained unapologetic for the passion that guided me through that transformative year on the road. Where every sunrise and sunset brought new perspectives and every challenging ascent brought strength. And so, I concluded my tale, grateful for the chance to share a glimpse into the life I had lived, even if it raised a few eyebrows around the potluck table.
My own spiritual haven, nestled within the whispers of the rumored cliff, was an escape that offered peace and fulfillment. It lured me with the promise of reaching nirvana through precarious fingertip holds and the exhilaration of adrenaline-fueled rushes. Yet, as I revealed this information to my colleagues, their interest waned, and with each passing day, their selective hearing grew more pronounced.
Conclusion
At a potluck celebration that coincided with Thanksgiving, the atmosphere was warm and jovial. It was there that a curious school board member, his eyebrows reaching heights that matched the formidable walls of Yosemite, confronted me about my previous life. Eagerly, I embarked on recounting my journey, weaving a tale that resonated with sacrifice and unyielding passion. But when I concluded with the bold proclamation of quitting my job for a climbing-filled road trip, I couldn’t help but sense that my chosen icebreaker had fallen flat.
Lunchtime conversations are another minefield. A teacher asks about my Xmas plans, and before I can stutter, another chime in, “He’s going climbing, duh!.” Bless their belays. My wife, bless her again, takes it all in stride. While some might prefer a piña colada under a palm tree, she’s up there with me, conquering that 5.
We have more on rock climbing at the Nomadic Clan website:
“9 Best Rock Climbing Destinations for Beginners”
“Kids Rock Climbing: A Parent’s Guide to Kids Climbing Essentials”
“Capturing the Essence of Rock Climbing: 10 Tips for Incredible Climbing Photos”
