Panjat Pinang, East Java

Panjat Pinang, East Java

Travelling back from Mount Bromo by motorbike, I detoured through Ngadas, a highland village in East Java, Indonesia, where I came across a Panjat Pinang competition. Panjat Pinang is a greasy-pole climbing contest commonly linked to Indonesia’s Independence Day celebrations. I arrived with a darker symbolic expectation shaped by René Depestre’s Le Mat de Cocagne, in which the greasy pole stands for rigged power and public control. What I encountered in Ngadas overturned that expectation entirely.

--SS, 2025

Competitors form a human ladder on the greased pole to lift a teammate higher

A village spectator watches the competition

A team climbs the greased pole as spectators watch from the village street

A competitor holds the pole mid-climb during an attempt

Grease and dirt spray as a competitor strains upward, holding near the top

Competitors slip from the pole and collapse into the mud, laughing as the attempt breaks apart

A competitor reacts while looking upward, tracking climbers as the attempt intensifies

A close view of hands, denim and the greased pole captures the physical contact of the climb

A woman smiles at a child while watching the contest as the crowd waits between attempts

Spectators watch closely from the side following the progress and setbacks of each team

Two competitors brace the pole and support the base as teammates climb above them

Villagers gather below as a competitor reaches the top of the greased pole

On 21 August 2025, I was riding a motorbike from Mount Bromo to Malang in East Java, Indonesia, when I chose to take a small detour through the highland village of Ngadas. I had planned only to pass through, but as I started down the hill I could hear loud music and see, in the distance, a large crowd forming by the roadside. When I reached the scene, it opened out into a small square, at the centre of which stood a greased pole ringed by people.

Panjat Pinang, or “climb the areca palm” in Indonesian, is closely tied to Indonesia’s Independence Day celebrations on 17 August. For me, this was a random Thursday, but in fact it was just four days after the anniversary, and I later learned that it is typical for a run of neighbourhood games to be held in the weeks that follow.

At university I read René Depestre’s “Le Mat de Cocagne” (“The Festival of the Greasy Pole”), in which the greasy pole symbolises rigged power and public control, a critique of Haiti’s Duvalier regime. Having never seen one in real life, this shaped my expectations of the game: determination as humiliation, struggle as manipulation. But this lens could not have been further from what I experienced in Ngadas.

What was immediately apparent was the grit of it: dirt under nails, clothing and skin marked by grease and dust, faces contorted with strain. I watched men climb, slip, fall, get back up, and try again. Over time, though, I began to notice another tone running through. Falls were met with grins, and climbers spoke calmly as they regrouped. There was a quiet sense of collective resolve.

The spectators mirrored this. Men clustered closest to the pole, wrapped in batik scarves against the chill, caps pulled low. Women watched from doorways and balconies edging the square, gathered in loose family groups. A sound system looped the same tracks. A makeshift prize table stood nearby. The scene felt practical and improvised.

What struck me most was how low-key the whole thing was. There was no grand performance, no curation. This was not staged for visitors. My friend and I were the only outsiders there and, though warmly welcomed, it seemed largely irrelevant that we were. It was simply an afternoon organised by the village, for the village. In a world saturated with "experiences" engineered for social media, the authenticity of this felt joyous.

--SS, 2025

Ngadas, East Java, Indonesia. 21 August 2025. Personal project. Photographed after requesting permission from those present. No scenes were posed, staged, or reenacted, and no directions were given to subjects.