One of mankind’s greatest questions has followed us like a shadow since the dawn of time. Myths about immortality exist in cultures around the world. The following are a few: the Tree of Life, the Holy Grail, and the Fountain of Youth.
If aliens visited—or are visiting—Earth, they would have to be immortal to survive the millennia required to traverse the stars. From vampires to time machines, living forever is an omnipresent subject of human fascination.
The only connection humans have to immortality is spiritual.
But that could soon change.
One of my favorite stories about living in Indonesia involves my wife’s Uncle Mito.
My wife is Indonesian.
I am an American from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Uncle Mito is not immortal. He says he is 120 years old. One of his sons attests that Mito is at least 110 years old. No one is sure when he was born.
Indonesia was still the Dutch East Indies when Mito was born, and civil registration was not uniformly applied to the Indigenous population. There is no surviving official record of Mito’s birth.
He was married at 11 years old. His four children are still alive. Mito is also my next-door neighbor.
I see him walk to the rice fields every morning, as he’s done for what seems like eternity.
He was born in Plintahan, East Java, Indonesia. It is the same village where my wife and I live.
His home is hours away from two of the world’s largest volcanoes—Mt. Bromo and Mt. Semeru.
From volcanoes, floods, famine, and disease to World War II, the Indonesian National Revolution, and the mass killings of 1965–66.
Mito remembers and survived it all.
A Village With Two Famous Elders
One of the most widely reported claims of exceptional longevity also came from Indonesia.
In 2015, archaeologists discovered the remains of a 7,200-year-old woman buried in a cave in Sulawesi.
The oldest modern-day human, according to media reports, was also Indonesian.
He was a man who was reported to have lived for 146 years.
According to his Indonesian identification documents, Sodimedjo, better known as Mbah Ghoto (Grandpa Ghoto), was born in December 1870. He lived in Central Java, not far from Sragen. His age, however, was never independently verified.
Uncle Mito and Ghoto did not know each other.
Like Uncle Mito, he was a smoker and an occasional beer drinker. He outlived four wives, 10 siblings, and all his children.
Also like Uncle Mito, he was a local hero in his village, famous for telling great stories about the wars against Japan and the Dutch colonizers.
When asked about the secret of his longevity, Mbah Ghoto told the BBC that patience was key: he had a long life because he had people who loved and looked after him.
If independently verified, his age would make Grandpa Ghoto older than French centenarian Jeanne Calment. She was 122 when she died and is considered the longest-lived human in recorded history.
Unlike my American friend, who is obsessed with preventive health care and living longer, Uncle Mito has never been hospitalized. He has never taken medication. His eyesight, strength, and general well-being are in good shape.
What Can We Learn From Mito?
His native language is Javanese. The translation was difficult, but I managed to get a couple of questions answered.
Do you wish to visit another country?
“No. I’m good where I am. But Indonesia has gone downhill.”
What is the secret to a long life?
“When I was a young boy, my grandmother gave me a magic belt to wear around my waist. I wore it for as long as I can remember. I do not know where it is now.”
Today, the use of both white and black magic is still prevalent in Javanese culture.
There’s no way to be sure what the magic was in his belt.
On September 10, 2021, Guinness World Records awarded Spain’s Saturnino de la Fuente Garcia the title of oldest living man at the age of 112 years and 211 days.
Part of Uncle Mito’s daily routine is sitting in his chair outside his house. He doesn’t wear a watch or care what time it is—or even what day it is.
Every now and then, I give him a beer. In exchange, he gives me a long smile and carries on with his existence on a come-what-may basis.