Candi Tikus (Rat Temple) at Trowulan. (JG Photos/Rusmailia Lenggogeni)
If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then I would say the roads of Trowulan — home to the Majapahit ruins, one of Asia’s most important civilizations and archaeological ruins — is littered with one well-intentioned mishap after another.
Majapahit was a major Hindu-Buddhist kingdom that reigned from the 13th century for roughly 300 years and counted most of modern-day Indonesia and several Southeast Asian territories as part of its dominion. Its importance was chronicled by the Chinese, Portuguese and Italians.
Trowulan in Mojokerto, East Java, was the capital, and excavation has revealed a city with a drainage system, residential area, temples, markets, cemeteries and even dams. So why is it not more popular? Guidebooks barely mention it, giving the monkey forest of Bali’s Ubud more column space. Tour agents offer more trips to Bromo than to Trowulan, putting it on the itinerary as if it were an afterthought. When I visited, less than 10 tourists were exploring the sprawling complex.
The lack of visitors belies the site’s historical importance. The ruins are well-preserved and the entrance fee is basically nonexistent. What’s not to love? Plenty, apparently.
Information about the site is limited. This goes for even the most basic tips, such as how to get there. The nearest major city is Surabaya, but there is no direct transport to the site. One has to catch a bus to Solo and asked to be dropped off in Trowulan, where there are no signs to point you in the right direction.
People who have visited the site agree that in order to make sense of the ruins, which are scattered in the sprawling area, the first thing to do is visit the museum. But when asked about its location, some locals replied, “The new museum or the old one?”
The new Majapahit Information Center is a pleasant facility with a well-manicured lawn located near a big pool that was once used as by the kingdom’s denizens as a recreational area that doubled as a reservoir. The museum doesn’t charge an entrance fee — at least no one asked for one when I entered. But the layout of the information center was puzzling.
The receptionist, although friendly and knowledgeable enough when asked about the displays, didn’t seem very interested in engaging guests.
One would think that the exhibition should start with the history of Majapahit and its timeline to give guests a quick, overall understanding of the subject. There was no such thing. In fact, the first exhibit has nothing to do with the kingdom at all, showcasing prehistoric artifacts from before the Majapahit era, found in the surrounding area. Sitting pretty with fossils of an extinct elephant and Stone Age utensils were strings of modern-looking beads, not unlike those found in souvenir stalls, in the craft display. To be fair, the museum did explain that these were actually modern beads, but why not create a reproduction that looked like it belonged to the era instead?
A room was dedicated to Majapahit-era terracotta and another to its metalwork. The printed explanations were helpful, but the hodgepodge of designs made the text look like it had been written by several people working entirely independently. Some were printed in black and white, some in color, all with different typefaces. The big ones were obviously sloppily pasted together from several papers.
Some of the descriptions had nothing to do with the Majapahit civilization. There was a lengthy explanation of the history of Indonesia and the national law protecting historical artifacts. The latter was somewhat ironic, considering that the construction of this museum was widely protested by the archaeological community because it was erected over some of the ruins, destroying them forever.
The terrace at the rear of the museum was also filled with artifacts, but the same troubles resurfaced. There was no clear order to the displays and the text describing them was sketchy. A sign with information about Majapahit weaponry had a picture of a Papuan man wielding a spear. The signs sometimes referred to Majapahit, sometimes to the culture and crafts of modern-day Trowulan.
At the reception desk, I purchased a guidebook (more like a brochure) with a site map for the price of Rp 13,000 ($1.50). There was, however, no price tag on the book, so I just had to take the museum attendant’s word for it. I gave the map to my driver to follow. A good map is essential because the ruins are scattered throughout the massive complex, far away from each other and blended in with the current population. It looked so simple and straightforward on paper, but the map failed to show the real layout of the area.
The ruins themselves are amazing. Surprisingly, the majority of the ancient buildings are intact, with some of the temples still fully standing. The antique red bricks have managed to withstand the combined forces of time and nature.
But even here there was evidence of mismanagement. The backdrop is already beautifully green and fertile with rice paddies and lush mountains all around, but the ruins have unfortunately been dressed up with well-manicured grounds complete with topiaries. At the grounds of Candi Tikus (Rat Temple), some plants were arranged to spell out its name. But the pretty lawns were the least of my problems at the sites. In one of them, some unauthorized young men asked for a parking fee even though my car was sitting off-site.
All in all, touring Trowulan left a sour taste in my mouth. The quality of the ruins was superb, the scenery gorgeous, the history fascinating, but everything was tainted by careless mismanagement. In fact, the Majapahit archaeological site in Trowulan signifies what is wrong with the Indonesian tourism industry today: something that has great potential, squandered at a great price.
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