A Secret to "Conquer" The Nature

The tragic incidents involving several climbers on Mount Rinjani, including the death of a Brazilian climber some time ago, have dealt a heavy blow to the area. Local communities who depend on small-scale tourism—guides, porters, toilet providers, food vendors, small shop owners, instant noodle stalls, and others—have felt the impact deeply after Mount Rinjani was labeled an unsafe and even deadly tourist destination.

Regardless of what later emerged (including claims that the news of the climber’s death was deliberately amplified to support plans for building an escalator on Mount Rinjani), this sorrowful event has reminded the public of something fundamental: behind every kind of beauty, there is always risk. Seeking entertainment for personal enjoyment should be done with careful thought, proper preparation, humility, and sincerity. Otherwise, we become nothing more than a group of people that wasting our money just to enjoy a breathtaking view. 

Illustration: Mount Kelud, Blitar 

Because of global inflation, nearly everyone on Earth has had to lower their standard of living. People cut back on expenses they consider less essential in order to save for more pressing needs. Entertainment budgets are often the first to go, seen as nonessential in difficult times. Yet in periods like these, people arguably need entertainment even more—to help them rediscover and pursue what truly matters to them, what we might call their passion.

During working hours, we surrender our will to rules, targets, goals, and the demands of our professions. It is a basic human right to experience joy, peace, and happiness. But fear of poverty and financial hardship often leads us to treat entertainment as a way to gain social recognition, as if it were proof that we are wealthy.

A “Win-Win Solution”

Followers of Zoroastrianism in Uzbekistan celebrate the transition from winter to spring with a ritual called Navruz (meaning “new day” in Persian). This tradition is recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage and by the United Nations as an international holiday, as it is also celebrated in several other countries such as Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, and northern India. This celebration, which embodies hospitality and humanity, draws international tourists and consistently provides income for the communities that observe it.

Behind the traditional foods, songs, and dances lies a deeper purpose: to please the “guardians of nature,” so they remain generous and kind. It is a way of hoping that those who have worked hard cultivating fields and gardens will receive fair rewards. This is not a form of bribery directed at nature, even though the recited verses sometimes include wishes such as asking for no rain during spring, since it could damage crops.

Uzbek indigenous communities combine their need for entertainment with reverence for nature and their ancestors through such recitals. These performances brought joy not only to those who listen, but also to those who perform them. During Navruz, people do not work. Once the celebration ends, the entire community returns to their daily lives carrying a sense of peace and happiness, trusting that nature will “cooperate” with them until harvest season arrives. 

More Than Just Seeking Pleasure

As someone who has spent considerable time chasing worldly pleasures, I can say this: pleasure has no limits. The more you chase it, the further it seems to move away. The harder you try to satisfy that craving, the more insatiable it becomes. 

Through the Navruz ritual, Uzbek indigenous communities offer a lesson in balancing recreation with respect for the natural world. Seasonal change is seen as a sign that nature is alive, because weather and seasons are never static. Modern society often treats this as a simple scientific phenomenon, and from that perspective grows a certain arrogance in how we relate to nature.

The traditional dish sumalak, cooked collectively by women in the community while singing together, is a way of nurturing optimism as they welcome a new season. Meanwhile, the ritual called Sust xotin (“Poor Woman”) is meant to preserve compassion for ancestors, symbolized by a doll. During Navruz, the doll is bathed in water in turns by the participants—who are all women—while they sing songs expressing their hopes.

Rather than feeling anxious about the uncertainties that come with a new phase in life, these women ease their worries by gathering and sharing activities. They “sacrifice” food ingredients that could have been kept for themselves and their families as offerings to their ancestors, which are later shared and eaten together by the community. It becomes a celebration of survival and gratitude for having made it through the harshness of winter. (dswas).