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At a little past midnight on a Sunday, Abdul Kadir, a factory employee from Pondok Gede in Bekasi, and his older brother were on their way to Jalan Inspeksi Kali Ciliwung, in the Cikini area of Central Jakarta. Abdul had spent nearly half of his Rp 450,000 ($50) monthly salary to rent a car. He was on a mission to seek a cure for his brother, who had a stroke two years ago and is paralyzed on the right side of his body.

“Many people have told me that those who come here sick go home well,” he said. “The illness disappears after they wash their face or drink the water.”

Abdul is just one of the thousands of people who have flocked to the tombs of Habib Abdurrahman bin Abdullah Al Habsyi, a respected Kwitang cleric, and his wife, Syarifa. Abdurrahman, an early Islamic missionary, died in Jakarta in 1881. On July 1, as workers were preparing to relocate his tomb so the land could be redeveloped, water began to gush from the ground. Many believe that the water is sacred and has curative powers.

In a previous interview, Abdurrahman Muhdhor Al Habsyi, one of the cleric’s descendants, said he was upset that people believed the water from the tomb had miraculous powers. “We don’t want the water to be glorified because we don’t want people to go against Islamic values,” he said.

Slamet Effendi Yusuf, from the Indonesian Council of Ulema (MUI), said it was not good for people to believe the water could heal. He attributed this desire to believe to personal hardship.

“They’re sick but don’t have the money to go to the doctor. They want to drink clean water, but public service is poor. So when something likes this, they see it as something almost miraculous,” he said.

Cautionary words from religious leaders and government officials have not stopped people from coming in droves from as far as Kalimantan.

Arlina, a university student, said that while she didn’t necessarily believe in the healing powers of the water at the Cikini tomb, she couldn’t help but be curious.

“I have heard stories about ghosts and the supernatural world, but this water gushing out of tombs is bizarre,” she said. “My friends talk about it, people on the street talk about it. Maybe because it is happening in Jakarta, where the media can blow it up and make it sound big.

“If I ever went up there and maybe drank the water, it would perhaps be out of curiosity and not because I expected something,” she added, with a laugh.

Erna Karim, a sociologist from the University of Indonesia, said the happenings in Cikini clearly showed how many people were desperate for miracle health cures. “This can also be an indication of how the public associates modern medicine with high costs,” she said.

She said this expectation and belief in supernatural powers did not necessarily have anything to do with religion or faith. Believers of such phenomenon are usually from the lower class, but that doesn’t mean members of the upper class aren’t also superstitious.

“It takes on a different form for those in the upper class. They can afford to go to places known for supernatural powers and send offerings in the hope of something in return,” she said.

“Whether or not the water can cure disease depends on people’s suggestive perception,” Erna said.

“For many people who are better educated and have more access to information, what is happening in Cikini or in Jombang seems to be primitive, but that’s part of our society.

“Believing in something and expecting strength out of this belief is common in an environment where access to information and basic rights, such as health care, is not immediately readily available for all.”

Last year there was media frenzy over a boy in Jombang, East Java, who was believed to have the power to cure people after he survived being struck by lightning.

In January 2009, the boy, Ponari, was playing in the quiet hamlet of Kedungsari, Balongsari village, in Jombang, when it started to rain.

“Lightning struck him, making him fall unconscious for a moment,” said Ponari’s mother, Mukaromah. “When we took him home, we realized that he had a pebble in his hand. We threw the pebble away, but found it lying on the table at home the next day. I have no idea how this happened.”

Stories soon spread that Ponari, who has changed his name to Muhammad Ari Rahmatulloh, used the pebble to cure a neighbor who had been suffering from a high fever. According to the stories, he dipped the stone into a glass of water, which the neighbor then drank. Soon, word of Ponari’s so-called healing ability spread like wildfire, leading to hysteria as thousands of people flocked to the village in search of a miracle cure.

At the end of February 2009, however, Jombang Police shut down Ponari’s practice following accusations of child exploitation and after four people reportedly died while queuing for a meeting with the boy.

A year later, Ponari’s house still attracts its share of miracle seekers, although their numbers have greatly declined.

“On weekdays, we still get around 10 guests. On weekends, I’d say about 50,” said Kamsin, Ponari’s father.

On July 7, about a thousand people from the north of Jombang gathered at the newly built Hidayatullah Mosque in Balongsari to celebrate Isra Mi’raj, the Prophet Muhammad’s journey to the Al Aqsa Mosque and into the heavens. But many of those present were there for another reason — to get Ponari’s cure-all water. The child healer, now 11 years old, was seated near the podium for everyone to see. Playing with his BlackBerry, he seemed undisturbed by the crowd that occasionally cheered and clapped when his name was mentioned over the loudspeaker.

Ponari’s reputation has worked wonders in this generally poor hamlet. Suwandi, one of the caretakers at Hidayatullah Mosque, said Ponari’s family had donated more than Rp 200 million to build the mosque, which is estimated to have cost up to Rp 1 billion.

According to Mbah Senen, a village elder, the paths around Kedungsari would never have been paved if not for the money from the sale of admission tickets to visitors before Ponari’s practice was shut down. During the Isra Mi’raj celebration, the mosque’s caretakers managed to collect a sizeable amount of money from the donation boxes that they circulated among congregation members. Vendors also did brisk business selling various merchandise.

But even purported healers are not immune to illness. In May, Ponari was rushed to a local clinic before being brought to a hospital with typhoid fever. His family said they were unable to cure Ponari using the pebble.

“It’s true Ponari had to spend several days in the hospital,” Kamsin said, “but he’s been doing fine since then.”

During Isra Mi’raj, it seemed that Ponari had not lost his luster for the gathered crowd. Elderly women stood up and kissed his cheeks when he passed by.

When he arrived at his house — a newly built permanent structure in contrast to the old bamboo shack where his family used to live — there were three boys playing with Ponari’s PlayStation. In the front yard, several women asked Ponari to dip his pebble into plastic bags full of water they were carrying before quietly slipping money into his pockets.

Siti, an elderly woman from the north of Jombang, said that she still believed in Ponari. “My confidence in him is firm. I believe that God has chosen him as a mediator,” she said.

“I came here once before to cure some pains I was experiencing all over my body and now I have acquired a bag of water from him again to use at home.”