In the quiet city of Salatiga, Central Java, a crackling fire glowed beneath heavy stones Saturday evening, not just as a culinary spectacle but as a profound message of peace and solidarity. Scores of students and community members from Papua gathered at the campus of Satya Wacana Christian University (UKSW), transporting their long-held tradition of Bakar Batu (“burning stone”) into the heart of Indonesia’s island Java.
The ritual, ancient and deeply rooted in highland Papuan culture, took on added significance here: it symbolized reconciliation, remembrance, and a collective commitment to harmony. Following a tragic incident that claimed the lives of three Papuan students in Salatiga after consuming illicit alcohol, the student community organized the ritual to channel grief and concern into a positive, culturally resonant act. According to local media sources, “hundreds of Papuan students in Central Java held a bakar batu ritual in Salatiga … as a form of deep concern over the death of three UKSW students, followed by a declaration against alcoholic drinks.”
The Scene in Salatiga
At the UKSW grounds, a pit was dug and lined with fresh leaves, stones piled one atop another, and timber set alight until the rocks glowed red-hot. Soon, ingredients—sweet potatoes, pumpkins, vegetables, and pork (in line with the inland highland tradition)—were layered atop the sizzling stones, wrapped in leaves, then covered and left to cook slowly. Amid the aroma of sizzling tubers and roasting meat, participants—many dressed in traditional Papuan garments—stood shoulder to shoulder. The crackle of fire blended with hushed prayers and songs. What began as a cooking session became a communion of remembrance, culture, and hope.
University and community leaders observed the event. A declaration was read, pledging zero tolerance for alcohol abuse and reaffirming the students’ dedication to positive community engagement. One Papuan community leader in Salatiga pronounced, “Bakar Batu is not just cooking together—it is our ritual of togetherness in joy and in sorrow.”
The Tradition: Roots of Bakar Batu
To understand why the ritual resonated so deeply, one must look to its roots in Papua’s highlands among the Dani, Lani, Damal, and other tribes. The ritual is generally known as bakar batu (burning stones), barapen in coastal Papua, or as kit oba isago in Wamena.
The process is communal and symbolic. Large stones are heated in an open fire until they glow red. They are then layered with food—typically pork or wild boar, tubers such as sweet potatoes, cassava, pumpkins, and vegetables—wrapped in leaves, then covered and left to cook in the heat of the stones. Afterwards, the gathered community sits and eats together.
More than just a meal, bakar batu functions as a social glue. It marks thanksgiving—after a harvest, a wedding, a birth, or even the end of conflict between clans. It is a ritual of reconciliation, of renewing bonds, of celebrating shared life. As one cultural summary explains, the ritual promotes “solidarity among community members … facilitates communication, negotiation, and peace agreements between groups.”
The food prepared becomes a tangible symbol of equality: all participants share the same meal, regardless of status. The ritual reinforces that in community life, no one stands above the rest when gathering at the fire. One anthropological study notes that bakar batu carries religio-social, economic, and political functions—it builds identity, preserves tradition, and strengthens relations across tribal lines.
From Highlands in Papua to Campus: A Message of Peace
By conducting the ritual in Salatiga, the Papuan students brought this concept of communal solidarity into a new context—one of students, multiethnic interaction, and concern for welfare. They used the ritual to show unity: Papuans studying far from home, reaching out through culture to affirm life and reject destructive habits. The ritual thus became an act of cultural diplomacy—among themselves, among Indonesians, and towards the wider community of Salatiga.
It is telling that the ritual was executed not just as a cultural display but as part of a declaration: the students pledged to uphold discipline, respect, and anti-alcohol stances. In effect, the smoke rising from the heated stones signalled a purified message: that tradition can be an anchor of hope, identity, and positive transformation.
In an academic environment, where students from Papua may feel alienated or far from home, the ritual also served to create a sense of home-away-from-home. It brought the rhythms, smells, and values of highland Papua into the Central Java campus, reminding participants that culture travels—and when rooted in positive purpose, culture becomes a force for change.
Why It Matters: Culture, Identity, and Tolerance
In Indonesia, a nation of incredibly varied ethnicities, one of the greatest challenges is maintaining cultural identity while fostering national unity and mutual respect. Traditions like bakar batu serve both to preserve identity and to demonstrate that culture does not need to be insular—it can be inclusive and communal. As one cultural commentary observed, bakar batu is “a form of gratitude to God, a symbol of solidarity … a means of community gathering and mutual forgiveness.”
When Papuan students perform this ritual in Java, they open a window into their cultural heritage for others to see—and at the same time, they build bridges. The act shows that cultural rituals can carry universal values: gratitude, community, peace, shared meals, and dignity. That is likely why the campus event resonated as a “message of peace” rather than a mere spectacle.
Looking Ahead
The success of this event suggests a broader lesson: traditions are not frozen in time. They can be adapted, reinterpreted, and given new meaning in new contexts—so long as the core values remain clear. For the Papuan students in Salatiga, the ritual of bakar batu became a statement: “We are here, we bring our culture, we bring our values, and we commit to peace and mutual respect.”
For the host community in Salatiga and beyond, it offers an opportunity: to learn, to engage, and to participate. Perhaps next time a local study group or inter-ethnic event will include such a ritual—not as an exotic performance, but as a shared practice. In such encounters, tradition becomes a living connector—not just between people, but between regions, histories, and hopes.
Conclusion
In the glowing embers and aromatic steam of the stones, there was more than a meal: there was a story of remembrance, of identity, and of hope. The bakar batu ritual in Salatiga may have drawn its fire from Papua, but the message radiated wider: that when communities gather, cook, share, and declare together, they build peace. In this act, culture meets campus, tradition meets transformation, and a stone-cooking ritual becomes a flame of unity.