Cemoro Lawang

A sign for the village of Cemoro Lawang in the sandsea, with volcano Bromo in the background.

Cemoro Lawang is a tiny village at the edge of the Tengger caldera and were it not for Bromo’s close proximity, it would likely have never seen tourists. Most residents here are farmers, though some are now part of a growing tourism industry that serves tourists to Bromo as hotel staff, restauranteurs, and tour guides. The wealth disparity between the visitors like us and the residents here generates a feeling of desperation, where streetside vendors sell Bromo souvenirs half on pity. Part of the reason is that we’re (once again) in a tourist town during the off-season, when times are hardest. But part of it reflects an economic shift wherein people realize that tourism-related jobs, even one that requires standing out on the cold street selling Bromo kitch, will make far more than any farming work. We might visit Cemoro Lawang one day to find the fields replaced by artisans’ shops and tour agencies in their place. But for now, the dominant feature of village’s landscape remains rows of neatly-planted spring onions, nourished in the volcanic soil.

Farms cover the hills in Cemoro Lawang.

 

A field of spring onions stretches off into the horizon.

 

A farmhouse surrounded by fields of spring onions.

 

A man carries his farm produce into town.

 

A woman burns garbage at the edge of town.

 

Our hotel in town, the Cemarah Indah.

 

The entrance to Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park, with a tour jeep parked in front. The poles hanging over the streets are charms, important to the Tengger people who inhabit this and nearby villages.

 

A view down the hill into town on a foggy day. The proximity to the Tengger Caldera means that most days start or end with fog.

 

A communications tower in Cemoro Lawang disappears into the fog above.