Afterwards, my watch beeped, showing 10.30, meaning that we had been walking around for one and a half hour. God! Who knew that it would be that fast? Before the sun depleted our energy, we dragged our feet to another spot of Karangkamulyan they called "Lambang Peribadatan" (A sign of praying). As many other spots and remnants in the site, this one was also cuckooned by a pile of rocks, only this time, with the main door not locked, so we could let ourselves in. We saw a bigger rock surrounded by smaller rocks. The kuncen explained that the bigger rock is a symbol of our hopes, and what the ancient people used to do was to knee before it (while praying), lift it above our head, and rest it on our head for a moment, and then lay it back down. The lifting, kuncen furthered, was deemed as a sign of letting our dreams, prayers, and wishes go up to the God to be granted later.
[caption id="attachment_340189" align="aligncenter" width="491" caption="Mia's mom attempting to lift the rock"]
Having seen the kuncen lift the rock effortlessly, I second thought myself of doing it on my own. I tried it, whilst taking for granted that the rock would not be as heavy as I thought, but as I kneed to it, put my each palm around the stone, and summoned energy to make it adrift, it was actually really heavy! Hahaha. But as I attempted for a second time, I managed to do it. However, the fact that I took for granted the weight of the stone at first, the kuncen explained, was exactly the reflection of how certain people belittled hopes; sometimes, those people did not have the willing to pray to God and finally ended up being miserable for the rest of their lives. That's pretty much the moral lesson of it.
Later on, we wandered a little further, with some monkeys sneaking from the broad trunk of a tree, up to a point where we saw another pile of stones, which was Pamangkonan, literally meaning 'taking on one's lap." The believed history of this place is that that was an area in which Ciung Wanara's placenta was buried, and afterwards, the mother having given birth to Wanara, leaned herself against a stone (the picture below) to resettle herself from dying and resurrect her energy. The baby of Wanara, on the other hand, was laid on the laying stone on the ground at that moment.
[caption id="attachment_340192" align="aligncenter" width="461" caption=""Pamangkonan": The Resting Stone"]
In the middle of our wandering, Mia's mom was out of the blue bursting to pee, so we had to fasten our pace to find the nearest toilet. When we found one, we were so fortunate that there were also snack stands, a river bank, and a hanging root to idle around at the place. The watched showed 11.00, and our energy began to drain. While taking some photos of the surrounding, we decided to sit on this lengthy, ductile root hanging between two enormous trees. I thought it would be nice to have myself captured on that, but as the other three girls wanted to be on the frame, I started to be anxious, fearing that the root would crash down, but it did not.
[caption id="attachment_340195" align="aligncenter" width="491" caption="Akar Gantung "The Hanging Root""]
In the end of the day, we went out from the entrance door and found more than ten cars were parked in the lot. The later the day gets, the more people are coming. Realizing that when strolling around inside Karangkamulyan we did not get anything to munch or drink, we bought some beverages and snack for a "stomach booster."
That is all. Humbly speaking, going to Karangkamulyan to me was one of those special things that indeed requires a blank space in my journal. Not only did I obtain a myriad of historical insight of Ciung Wanara and its ghastly complicated family pedigree, but also I got to refresh my mind, heart, and soul from the hustle and bustle of Jatinangor's college life.
Wassalamualaikum.
Himawan.
