Animal Sacrifice For Mother
11. Keep Shadowed
“Let me, brother. I know one of the managers of this place. I have also been here before.”
“But, bang.”
The others simultaneously exclaimed. They seem to be spending some money. Except Rahman, he had no money. But relax, there's Doni.
The oldest man down, bang Aji his name. His body is athletic, his hair is shabby, his mustache is rare. He walked over to a building that looked like an ordinary house. Leaving an old car parked right in front of the managing office of Mount Rinjani National Park (TNGR).
For those of you who have stopped by here, certainly no stranger to procedures like this. To be recorded as an official climber, required to pay a sum of money, and replaced with a ticket in the form of a small card of plastic (similar to a business card). Blue is for local tourists, while red is for foreign tourists.
On the card are written appeals that the point is how we can together build awareness to not leave garbage in order to maintain the naturalness of tourist attractions, especially Mount Rinjani.
The amount of money collected from the sale of tickets will be used for the maintenance and maintenance costs of Mount Rinjani itself. In return, everyone who has registered is entitled to guaranteed help from the manager. With a note, the ticket still exists as proof.
So, if in the middle of the trip there is one climber who is sick, or unable to climb higher, then the manager of TNGR will send people to evacuate. Fair enough, isn't it?
“This is the ticket. Come sir, we go on.”
Bang Aji got back in the car. He distributed the entrance ticket to Mount Rinjani National Park to all of them. Do not forget to thank bang Aji for being willing to take care of the ticket problem. The driver turned the car around, then headed towards the climbing gate.
Is correct. After completing the registration process, prospective climbers must travel ± 1 km from the TNGR manager office before finally arriving at the climbing gate.
“Be careful. Careful!”
One by one get off the car with the carier each. Bang Aji became the last person to go down and approach the driver. They seem to be talking about something. Wait, agreed. It's this old car that's coming back to pick them up in five days.
Here, again and again the role of bang Aji is seen when suggesting to them when they want to wear a carier, preferably with a sitting position behind him. Just slipped both hands between the carier's straps. That way, the carier load will feel lighter because it is supported directly by both shoulders. Experience does not just go away unless it leaves a valuable lesson.
At that time, the six prospective climbers who came from different regions, agreed to make bang Aji as their leader in conquering the height of Mount Rinjani. While bang Aji just smiled.
“Wait a minute, sir.”
Doni stopped the driver and immediately handed him a digital camera. Doni wants to capture the moment under the climbing gate with Rahman and five other friends, including the Aji bang.
The driver took the camera from Doni's hand. Before long, they were seen putting up a standing fose parallel to each of them lifting the carier on his shoulders. Their faces were all adorned with smiles.
“Cekrek! ”Extapose again. “Cekrek!” Done it.
Doni took the camera back. Then show the photos to friends of other clothes. The result is pretty good. The smiling driver received a thank you note from Doni. Then he turned back to his old car and left the climbing gate.
While Doni, Rahman, and other like-minded friends gathered to pray. They are led by bang Aji. One minute. Two minutes. Done it. A cry of encouragement becomes the end of the prayer they offer to the Almighty. Then start their first step through the climbing gate of Mount Rinjani.
For four hours they had walked down the path, crammed into the vast meadows, passed through the rocky dead river, entered the evergreen forest, and were greeted by the not-too-high hills. Occasionally take a break to expel thirst and regulate the breath. Then walk again.
On many occasions throughout the journey. Their hands are not separated from their respective cameras to capture some images of themselves set against the natural scenery of the mountains.
Doni's position is a little far from Rahman. He stood facing the setting sun, practically turning his back on Rahman. Both of his hands were wide open, his head looking up at the maximum, so Rahman could see his mouth opening. Not only that, because Doni also equip himself with sunglasses and maroon-red skebu.
“Cekrek.” Again, “Cekrek.” Done it.
Nobody listens to bang Aji? Nope. They realize that they are the ones who have chosen bang Aji as their leader. So, how could they possibly ignore the Aji bang. Only, counted already five times more bang Aji repeated his sentence that suggested to them to spend the night at Post 3 Rinjani. And the advice of bang Aji has got approval from all of them.
The appearance at Post 3 Rinjani is slightly different from the sighting seen at Post 1 or Post 2 Rinjani, because Post 3 Rinjani is equipped with the appearance of a piece of sandy land flanked by two hills. That said, the sandy soil is a piece of dead river that is out of nowhere at the ends. Luckily the land is flat, so it can be used as a place to set up several tents.
“Your turn, Don.”
Unlike Doni who chose a standing fose, Rahman actually put a sitting fose hugging both knees. But both turn their backs to the camera and face the sun that is almost sunset.
“Wait!” Rahman continued when he wanted to justify his sitting position. The dark blue skebu that covered the entire back of his head was slightly lowered. His black glasses were turned towards the back. Doni muttered softly seeing Rahman who he thought was a lot of behavior.
“Cekrek.” Again, “Cekrek.” Done it.
All those who meet Post 3 Rinjani, without exception. The race perpetuates the beauty of the phenomenon of sun drowning from half the height of Mount Rinjani.
Ten minutes passed.
The sun is fully set. Replaced by the presence of the moon and the sprinkling of millions of stars. Now the night atmosphere perfectly envelops the nature of the mountains.
The wind blows softly. But the cold felt through the thick jacket to the bone. Various-colored tents have stood at every corner of the ramps. One by one the wooden branches were collected, then burned. Surrounded by seven climbers.
***
Different from the atmosphere of the night in the mountains. Here, the night is not too cold, so brother Arif does not need a campfire. A long piece of cloth is enough to warm the body.
“You why? Inaq saw you shut up. The guitar was hugged, but not played. What are you thinking, son?”
Brother Arif was surprised. Inaq sat beside him. Paper balls are scattered on the floor of the room. Messy, unlike the idol poster, also photos of Inaq and Amaq when young. Tidy and well-groomed.
“It's okay Inaq. Arif is not thinking of someone.”
“Someone?” Inaq.
Brother Arif shakes. No, it evades. Arif was inspired to create a song. But every time you want to write lyrics, dead ends. Tried again, wrong. It makes Arif aware, sometimes there are things that can only be felt, but can not be written.
Ten minutes passed since Inaq left the room.
Brother Arif put his favorite guitar next to the bed where he lay. Then daydream. Tonight, before completely falling asleep, the face of a hooded girl he saw earlier in the day continued to shadow.
***
