It feels almost like déjà vu when stepping into this village. Narrow alleyways, with houses built tightly side by side. It resembles the cramped riverside settlements along the Ciliwung River in Jakarta rather than the romantic image of Bandung—the city said to have been created when God was smiling.
But there is something different here. The village, located in Dago Atas, feels more like the vibrant communities along the Code River in Yogyakarta. Not shabby like Jakarta’s riverside slums, but colorful—buzzing with a certain kind of energy.
An energy of creativity, to be precise. That aura rushes in almost instantly, the moment one sets foot in the neighborhood. Right by the roadside, instead of a shop window, there is a stage for art installations: four statues made of newspapers sit in contemplation around a small table, inviting visitors into the absurd reflections of abstract art displayed around them.
These abstract paintings then guide the way deeper into the narrow alleys. Amidst people moving back and forth, a group of young people huddle together, deep in discussion. They soon invite visitors to explore further into Dago Atas, revealing layers of creative meaning embedded in the community.
Beyond paintings and scribbled outbursts on the walls, this creative village also showcases photography. Images of an elderly man lost in thought, or a child’s laughter against the tangled backdrop of life’s complexities, are on display.

From mountains to oceans, delivered to you. Follow us on Lingkar Bumi WhatsApp Channel.
The deeper one goes, the stronger the pulse of art grows. At a musician’s house, instruments far removed from modern music emerge. There is the Keprak, producing sounds like flowing water, stirring gentle shivers in the listener. And the Karimbing, shaped like a guitar but rumbling with a resonance powerful enough to raise goosebumps.
Further ahead, a row of murals covers makeshift garden fences. Their colors blaze brighter as the path opens into a clearing, until finally the high wall is completely filled with paintings. Across the way, the sun begins to set behind the valleys of the hills.
In front of his small house, Ujang, an elderly man, is busy with a knife in hand. “I’m making a Panggah for my grandson,” he explains.
His grandson watches eagerly. The traditional spinning top is nearly finished, and the boy can barely contain his excitement to play with it.
“Kids these days rarely get toys like this anymore,” Ujang adds, handing the polished Panggah to his grandson.
Dago Atas is not only about art for art’s sake—it offers art that the community itself can take part in and enjoy. That inclusivity seems to be its defining feature.
Take Dadang, for instance. He gathers young people to learn pencak silat, the traditional martial art of West Java. On this afternoon, at least six of his students train seriously—some in group formations, others sparring one-on-one.
“I became interested in pencak silat after watching a Taliwangsa performance that incorporated martial arts,” Dadang recalls.
The practice has long been fading, but with a sense of duty to his community, Dadang revives it step by step. Gradually, more parents have begun allowing their children to join his lessons.
Beyond martial arts training, the children also find joy in traditional games by the Cikapundung River at the foot of Dago Atas. With limited space at home, the riverbanks become their playground. Some try balancing on egrang stilts, while others leap about in the stone-hopping game lompat batu. Each immersed in their own delight.

The day’s journey ends with a performance by the local youth band. With guitars accompanied by the rhythmic beat of the kendang, their music sets the backdrop for a communal meal. Food is served on banana leaves, enjoyed together under the fading glow of twilight—an unforgettable impression of unity and warmth.
Memes, a university student who accompanied the tour, explains that only recently has this kind of village tour program been established. For her, it is not only an experience but also a way to boost the local economy.
“People are happy too, because visitors often buy musical instruments, T-shirts, food, or handicrafts made by the residents,” she says.
For Memes, it is a way to help the community grow. Thankfully, the people of Dago Atas have embraced it with enthusiasm and positivity. (Sulung Prasetyo)
