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Updated June 8, 2026 at 9:27 AM MDT
High on the slopes of Indonesia's Mount Merapi, one of the world's most active volcanoes, villagers stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a front yard to watch a ceremony called Jathilan.
A live gamelan band thumps out a collective rhythm on metal instruments. Dancers wearing elaborate, monstrous bamboo masks enact a mythical legend through movement. The celebration marks a child's circumcision or sunatan, a traditional Javanese rite of passage into adulthood.
Chicken breeder Widi, who goes by one name, says such occasions are frequent. "This is about culture and tradition," he said. "If we don't have these elaborate celebrations, what else is there for entertainment?"
Most attendees are farmers. When the music stops, they return to fields of chili, tobacco, and cauliflower.
Merapi, situated at the central part of the country's most populous island of Java, is currently at a "Siaga" (Level 3) alert, meaning increased volcanic activity threatens areas up to three miles from the crater.
The danger is constant. But to Lasteri, the mountain speaks a familiar language. She distinguishes passing storms from the deep, rhythmic thudding – gemuruh – of the volcano.
"If eruptions are frequent, we aren't as afraid because it's only a little pressure at a time," Lasteri said. "It's when the mountain is quiet for a long time that we worry the next one will be big."
Tlogolele Village sits in a designated danger zone, with hamlets a mere 1.9 miles from the active crater. For generations, residents resisted evacuating.
The turning point came in 2010. A massive eruption blanketed the village in 14 inches of ash and buried farms under solidified molten rock, or "cold lava" flows.
"People hadn't realized that Merapi's threat was truly that dangerous," said Neigen Saputra, deputy head of the village preparedness team.
The disaster killed more than 350 people and forced roughly 350,000 regional residents to evacuate.
"Thick ash and sand started to pour down, and everyone ran," remembers Sunkono, a farmer who spent two months in a shelter. "Everything was ruined. The trees were dead, and the crops were destroyed."
Since then, Tlogolele has transformed. The community built a multi-layered warning system blending wailing electronic sirens with real-time WhatsApp updates. For the elderly, Saputra said, evacuation calls are broadcast through mosque loudspeakers.
Tlogolele also established a "Sister Village" program, an agreement with a community 25 miles away to host refugees during extended eruptions.
Despite the risks, Sunkono will never permanently leave. The volcanic ash that destroys crops is the same material making the soil incredibly fertile. He favors crops like cauliflower, harvested in just 50 days, providing reliable economic recovery.
"Disasters are everywhere," Sunkono reflected, picking leaves off his cauliflowers. "In other places, there are tsunamis and earthquakes. Here, we have Merapi."
For Sunkono, the rich soil and a community he considers family make it worth the risk. Today, preparedness is daily life. By nearly every door sits a tas persiapan, or a ready bag packed with precious documents, ready the moment sirens sound.
Visual design and development by LA Johnson and Nicole Werbeck
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