it's a surreal life

I'm finally getting rid of my medieval camping gear including a 10'x11'2"x7' wedge tent in Sunforger canvas, complete with poles, dining fly, floor, and and iron stakes.  Large enough for a family, or a couple with lots of stuff.   Wedge tents are also a standard for military re-enactors. 

It's in excellent condition and I'll throw in a couple of wrought iron ridge hooks for free.  Price new was $600+ and I'd like to get $400 for it, although I am open to any reasonable offer.  Also a hand-made kitchen box with stand, and a matching trestle table.

I took a drive up to Hawk Mountain Sanctuary.  It was packed because it's peak raptor migration time, as well as peak Fall colors.  The drive up was lovely too once I got off the turnpike and onto back roads.  I took a few pictures, including one at a vineyard I stopped at on the way home.  The bird count was low, so I didn't get any bird pics, but the scenery was very nice.

I also have two tasty bottles of wine.

I'm not doing much today besides a little last minute shopping and munching.  For my final Ubud adventure, myself and my luggage are riding pillion on a motorbike  Wheeeeee!!!   Then off to Jakarta to fly.  I am up to two bags now.  My knapsack and a tote bag that I brought folded up with me.  Both stuffed with goodies as I am already leaving behind the clothes I don't need anymore (as planned).

Customs will be fun. Due to my love of traditional markets and haggling, there is very little I paid more than $5 for.  I will easily come in under the free limit, but Flip's prezzie may be classified as "obscene" - I've decided it's a "traditional hindu good luck charm" and protected under freedom of religion. :p

Flying out of Denpasar, Bali on Mandala.  I have to pay extra close attention to flight announcements as the domestic terminal is a zoo.  The infamous Indonesian "rubber clock" has struck again.  Even though this is the main airport for Bali, we will walk out on the tarmac and board via stairs.  The one advantage is that they use two stairways so we enplane and deplane very quickly.  I wonder what they do in the rainy season.

I saw a woman with a novel and no doubt effective deterrent to pickpockets.  She had tied a broad sash tightly around her waist over her fannypack.  I may have to try this for myself.  Although I've yet to be successfully pickpocketed.

My one disappointment is that I haven't seen the southern stars.  The sky has been overcast every night of my trip. 

Plane is packed.  Airport is packed - everyone is traveling for the holiday Ibud Fitri, end of Ramadan.  A bit like flying the day before Thanksgiving.  People are dressed up and calling out greetings.  Fireworks are going off and oil lamps on stakes are out in many places.

I don't fly out until 2pm tomorrow so I got a hotel next to the airport.  OMFG, what a dump.  The sheets scare me - I'm sleeping in my clothes, on top of the blankets.  I've killed 26 mosquitos so far - there is one left.... I'm wearing repellent to bed.  Socks in the hotel room and sandals in the shower - touching no surfaces!!  The plus was that they shuttled me to & from the airport, so no taxi and the included breakfast, was surprisingly good.  They had a buffet set up to build either nasi goreng or mio goreng (fried rice or fried noodles).  Essentially, chicken vegetable soup over rice or noodles.  Not a bad breakfast.  The bed was soft and the hotel was quiet (thanks to my earplugs!)

The trip to the airport was slow.  My hotel is in the middle of a mosquito-infested slum, and as we drove out, we passed a mosque every couple of blocks.  With the holiday, the mosques were overflowing so people were sitting in the streets on their rugs.  Driving through got the driver a couple of glares.

Off to Taipei, then LAX.  I hope these two remaining books get me home.

Robert Heinlein once said that autobiography is the truest insight into a person.  Not the most accurate as to events, or even motivations, but rather what the person thinks about themself.

With that in mind, I highly recommend reading "Barbara Bush - a Memoir."  Fascinating look into the mind and life of the Bush family.  Scary stuff.  Remember this women helped shaped George W.

Ack!  I'm allergic to something, maybe the laundry soap?  I've hiving.  I brought a Benedryl pen with me, but it's not enough for this.  Time to seek out an apotik.  Heh... I had a lot of fun showing my rash and acting out vigorous scratching.  I have some sort of cream from the apotik.  As I was buying the cream, a tiny old women, wrinkled like a raisin, offered me a concoction of herb steeped in water (?) - I figured what the hell, so she decanted some into a small sprayer.  I tried the cream on half and the spray on half, and the spray works MUCH better.  I shouldn't be surprised, her ancestors have been passing down the uses of the plants around them for generations.  Spray FTW.

A couple of random things about Bali.  There is a strong push to use reusable bags. I guess plastic waste is a serious issue for Bali (and indeed for all Indonesia).  There is also a lot of organic food emphasis.  I don't know if it's only in Ubud, which after all is a center for arts, crafts, and traditional healing disciplines, or if it's Bali-wide.  Ubud, for example, will not allow certain businesses to open - McDonalds, etc.  They are working very hard to preserve the atmosphere of the city.

I've really enjoyed this trip.  Traveling alone has it's pluses and minuses, but overall the pluses are ahead.  I'm now very glad that my friend fucked up as I think he would have been a poor traveling companion (being negative and fearful of so many things, besides thinking that Americans are god's gift to the planet).  I'm sure that I wouldn't have met so many great people or had the same experiences.

My body knows it's 2 PM at home and wants to be awake.  My stomach knows it too, but unlike the US (and Jakarta) there are no 24 eateries.  Since it's my last night, I'm short on snacks and a couple of mangostinos, good though they are, just aren't enough to tame the munchies.

Random early AM musing - I'm not fond of tourists.  Around early afternoon each day, the swarms descend from Kuta (the tourist beach).  They seem oblivious and oh so very rude.  Most annoying tourist quirk - standing blocking the entire sidewalk chatting with each other forcing everyone else to pass them in the street (with its crazed motorbikes).  Do they realize that the loud, rude and unsmiling American tourist + American TV reinforce the idea that we're shallow, self-centered assholes?  Even if you suck at languages (like me), it's not that hard to pay attention, smile, and do your best to fit into a culture's manners.  We certainly demand it of visitors to the US.  When the folks in Dsr. Pete think of American now, not only will they think of TV, and what their leaders want them to believe, but they will also remember Surreal - who was friendly, modest, and respectful

The same for me.  Next time our politicians try and scare us with "Islam & foreign = terror", I'll think of Harry's family and village.  Not that I'm naive enough to buy the scare bullshit, but still.  It's hard for leaders to scare you about people you've met.  Yes, there were risks associated with this trip, but so much less than the hype.

Just so you know, the phrase you want to watch out for is "hey mate - come over for a drink."  Yes, my Aussie neighbors struck again.  Also, Bali has bats.  Big bats.  Really big bats.  I know why they named an aircraft the flying fox.  These babies are fractal.

Note to self:  Buy better camera and take photography course.  Another note to self:  Visit Bali again!

I had an adventure this morning.  I got up early to take a 5k walk through the rice paddies before it got too hot.  On a whim, I decided to head off down a footpath to cross the ravine and river.  This involved a descent on a footpath of toe-holds at about a 60 degree angle into a 40 foot ravine.  Then after crossing a bamboo bridge (you'll think I'm insane once you see the picture), back up the same on the other side.  All this in an ankle-length skirt I might add.  I flashed a lot of thigh to the local lizards on the way back up. I also took a slew of pictures.

Oh - I had my first encounter with a sketchy person while out on my trek.  I'm used to the introductory questions, where are you from, where are you staying, are you here with your husband, etc.  This guy made my spidey sense tingle, so I now have a husband and adult son back at the guest house.  Won't Charles be surprised!  I saw a lot of dragonflies - red ones and black ones.  Also, butterflies of all colors - and one jittery spider.

Lunch is a chance to try the national special dish Nasi Babi Guling, roast suckling pig with rice at a hole-in-the-wall diner where I was the only tourist.  It is essentially shredded roast pork on rice with a blisteringly hot sauce and some chopped fern tips.  This is also where I picked up the knack of eating like a local.  You shred and debone the meat with your fork in your left hand, and scoop up meat & rice with your tablespoon in your right hand.  Delicious and dirt cheap.  Another good steer by the couple in the airport.  I also tried Indonesian gatoraid today:  Pocari Sweat.  I don't know what a pocari is, but it sweats lemon.

Today has been officially designated as rest and relax day, so my next step is the spa for some severe pampering.  WARNING:  girl stuff ahead.  First is a deep facial and when I say deep I mean it.  If I was a tree, I'd be short a couple of rings now.  While my face was being steamed rubbed, gooped, rubbed some more, packed in stuff, iced, then lotioned; the same thing was happening to my hands and feet.  After that a ten year old with a grip like a python (OK, she was tiny, not 10) proceeded to rip my muscles off, pound them to a pulp, and put them back on my bones.  It's a mystery to me how 3/4ths of my body could be limp while the other was being tortured into relaxation.

Next she scrubbed every inch of my hide with a salt/oil/spice mixture.  I know where every minor cut is now btw.  Then I was wrapped in a sarong, still covered with the salt mix and I was fed tea and fruit while my hair was hot-pack deep conditioned and I had the scalp and head massage of my life.  While I was in the chair, a guy from Timor going through the same process ended up in the chair next to me and struck up a conversation.  He was getting married soon and this was part of the prep.  I'm trying to imagine an American bachelor party in a spa and failing.  Well at least in a legitimate spa.

Next, I kid you not, I was put in a hot bath with about a pound of flower blossoms floating in it.  And had my back and feet scrubbed.  Heh.  I could get used to this.  Fresh sarong and lying on a drying platform.  Elapsed time: 3-1/2 hours.  Price: $25  Feeling limp and exfoliated all over:  Priceless.

I'm debating going to a monkey chant dance tonight, but more and more I'm thinking banana milk shake, lazy about on my balcony watching the sun set, and taking it easy.  Back to Jakarta tomorrow.

So Kunang Kunang (firefly), my guesthouse, is a marvel.  Besides the ornate exterior and the comfortable porch, the inside is perfect.  Fifteen foot ceilings with fans keep the heat at bay.  Cool tile floors, even in the hottest part of the day, the room stays cool.  The ceiling is paneled with woven bamboo and blond rattan furniture (including cupboards with locks!) finish the look.  And of course the comfy, firm platform bed rioting with orange flower prints.  Ambiance and comfort.  Thanks again Mark & Christy for the recommendation.

The area outside is  a maze of shaded walkways between bungelows and guesthouses interspersed with canals and flowering bushes.  Also, there is a small menagerie with small animals and singing birds, including an assy macaw who can say hello and good morning in at least five languages.  A narrow waterway and lotus pond separates the living areas from a large rice paddy.   Two fat and lazy iguanas live downstairs from me and my other neighbors are a trio of crazy, zippy squirrels (at least I think they're squirrels).

I got up early enough this morning to see people getting ready for the day (but not ahead of the tea fairy, my usual carafe was already waiting for me on my balcony). Since it's the dry season, I wondered why everything was so clean and dust free, unlike Java.  Now I know.  Evidently every morning everyone pours water over everything - ground, walkways, shrubs, flowers, etc.  Since most of the walkways are paved, everything stays cool and clean (and dog poo free).

Speaking of sidewalks, most of them are 1-2 foot sections of concrete tile set over deep drain channels.  I guess it makes it easy to lift them up for cleaning or repair.   The rainy season much be amazing considering the capacity.  It makes for alert walking though, especially at night, as the ground has shifted in some places and section edges can be tripping hazards.

Breakfast.  Yes, I'm still talking about food - is something I picked up at a Balinese bakery.  Basicly, it's a large, flat, round rice crispy treat.  Very tasty, especially with a cardomon lasse (yogurt drink) in the usual "to go" plastic bag.  I'm headed back to the bakery tomorrow to try other local treats.

Today is siteseeing starting with the Pura Taman Saraswati (Water palace).  Once again, pictures will do better than words here, but until then, picture walking towards a Hindu shrine down a walkway between two long lotus ponds full of bright pink lotuses with golden hearts.  Once you pass the shrine gates, there are fountains and water channels everywhere with many flowering plants in pots.  There is also an incredibly tall Banyan tree with a "tree house" in it.

Next stop, the Mandala Wisata Wanara Wana (Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary).  It contains 3 temples, a graveyard and holy spring - oh and a LOT of monkeys!  Needless to say, I have a lot of monkey pictures.  They are wild, free-roaming and happy to accept offerings of bananas from tourists.  I walked down into the ravine to visit the holy spring guarded by two giant carved iguanas.  I wonder how high the water level gets down here during the rainy season.

Lunch was a traditional Balinese dish.  Sate chicken, ground pork on skewers, tumeric rice with pine nuts, two kinds of finely chopped vegetable - all served on a banana leaf plate.  Sides were grated coconut, fried garlic, and a sambal that could peel paint.  All the food was quite spicy so I cooled off with some coconut and pineapple ice cream.

I found out what the ceremony is tomorrow - Tilem Sasih Kapat (Dark Moon).  I may get a chance to see the central temple open.  Even though I'm in a skirt, I will need to wrap a sarong around my waist.  Balinese must wear full traditional dress to enter.

After my usual mid-day shower and short nap, I had an urge to visit a spa for some pampering.  1-1/2 hours of Lomi Lomi, a Hawaian deep tissue massage style, left me relaxed enough to be carried out in a bucket.

Last sight seeing stop of the day was the palace, but since the royal family was in, the residence was closed.   Maybe tomorrow.  I had a chance to hear (and see) a warung band.  Mostly percussion, xylaphone, drums and the like with a few reeds and one stringed instrument I don't recognize, played with a bow.  Noisy!  Unfortunately, I don't think the pictures will turn out as my flash has died the death.

I ran into an Aussie girl I had chatted with before while going out to dinner.  Zee had arranged for a very special meal where the chef prepared everthing at the table while explaining each dish's history, origin, how to make, etc.  She invited me to join her and dinner became an impromptu cooking lesson for me, accompanied by the warung band next door.  Surreal.  Honestly, I can't tell you half of what I ate although it was all very good, and of course hotter than Hell.  I did get to see a bit of the technique and understand the style behind the dishes.

After dinner it was back to the palace to see some traditional dancing.  Legong Keraton is a classical dance based on a historical romance of the 13th century.  The basic story is that an evil prince kidnaps a princess who refuses to yield to him.  Another prince comes to rescue her.  Evil prince ignores negative omen delivered by crow and is killed by good prince.  I also saw a Barong.  The central character is a benevolent dragon-type danced by 2 dancers - oh and monkeys.  It was all very pretty, but frankly I was bored very quickly.  But then I'm not a fan of opera either.

Swung by my usual internet cafe hangout on the way home.  They know me by name now as I usually stop in twice a day to check my e-mail and update my journal.  Then back to my room where my Aussie neighbors invited me over for Arak and coffee.  Ron and Dave remind me of Siggy.  I still have no idea what Arak is, but it has a kick like a mule.  So much for getting to bed early!

It's getting on towards morning and I'm lying in bed listening to the toads sing with a random ce-krick bass note.  I think I'll skip the earplugs tonight.

I'm not sure where to start.  First of all, Ubud is a center for traditional crafts, artists, music, dance, etc.  It works hard at staying closer to Balinese culture, so places like McDonalds simply don't get to open here.  I almost decided not to come to Bali, but I'm extremely glad I did.  I sorta of wish I had spent less time in Java, but then I would have missed staying at Harry's home.

My morning started early taking in the view over the rice paddies from my hotel balcony while sipping hot tea that mysteriously was delivered to my balcony before I even got up (in a thermos carafe).  You'll have to see the pictures to understand just how beautiful this place is.  Everywhere you look is green and lush with flowering shrubs and trees.  The air is full of fragrance and the background murmurs of birds.  Also, there is flowing water all around and there are small fountains and pots of water and lilies everywhere.  Since Bali is Hindu, every building has carved stone and peaked tile roofs.  I'm taking a lot of pictures.

Today is wander the town and shopping day.  I don't feel quite so obtrusive here - there are a lot of pale tourists.  I'm having fun guessing nationality.  So far, I'm pretty good.  The Americans don't smile.  The Aussies are having a grand time and are frequently seen in watering holes.  The Brits are usually toasted.  The shop keepers and vendors are lower key here than in Java.  The only thing I get asked all the time is "taxi", but I learned the way to deal with that back in Morocco, just smile and say no thank you.  Keeps stress low and leaves a pleasant impression.  Only the rude get harassed.

Heh... there are also a lot of stray dogs.  It didn't really strike me until I got here that I had seen only one dog in Java - then, duh... Hindu's don't have the whole "unclean" thing with dogs. Not so many cats here as there were in Java.  There are also tiny lizards everywhere.  I wonder if they're what I heard singing last night.

There is some sort of holiday or ceremony going on.  I haven't figured out what it is yet.  All the men and women have flowers in their hair or behind their ears and there are offerings of food, incense, and flowers in tiny banana leaf dishes near every house or shop.  While breakfasting on ginger-cardomon pancakes with mango yogurt, I watched a young woman, one of the waitresses making an offering at one of the small shrines in the back of the restaurant.  She was so graceful as she knelt and offered the flowers above her head, obviously praying - then tucked them into her hair.  Finally lighting more incense and flicking drops of water over her head and shoulders.

After shopping all morning and familiarizing myself with the center of town, I stopped at a lovely cafe, Kedai, which had more traditional seating and delicious food.  Fresh fruit juices blended with ice and raisen-studded rolls.  Then I continued with my now customary mid-day shower and nap.  The world would be a happier place if we could all grab a two hour nap around noon.  Afterwards, I was able to secure my airline ticket to Jakarta on Friday without any problems, so I'm comfy about that.

Afternoon was exploring the traditional market.  I've learned more about haggling than I've known in my entire life.  So many beautiful things, and all so inexpensive.  I'm glad I deliberately brought clothes I planned to leave behind - more room for goodies.  I was able to find coffee beans at the market.  I hope they are good, but since I don't drink coffee, I had to go by smell.  Between the sandalwood incense, coffee, and clove cigarettes, my luggage smells aromatic.  The coffee and cloves are living in separate bags!

Dinner was at a small cafe, open air like most are.  I had the Gado Gado - the second time I've eaten tempe and liked it.  I'm determined to try some Balinese dishes before I leave even though I hear they are even spicier than the Javanese ones.  After walking all day, I'm beat.  An hour sitting on the balcony hoping the sky would clear so I could see the Southern sky, but no joy.  It's been cloudy every night since I got to Indonesia.  Could be an island thing.

A bit of reading and an early night. 

Send a ransom of 150kg bananas, 25 kg mangos, 3 pineapples, and some sexy Japanese anime monkey pr0n.

Make it snappy!

Grey monkey tribe
Mandala Wisata Wanara Wana
 (that's Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary for you heathens)

I woke up well before dawn again, but I don't mind because it's both quiet and cool at that hour.  There is a large house gecko that makes a ce-kick sound, and one is singing to another this morning. They name them after the sound.  There is also some sort of frog in one of the ponds that makes a quiet background chirping noise.

I got to see a bit more of the usual life of the house this morning. Mrs. S., Harry and Fitri are making ready for the day while Hibibi and Raffi tear around like small monkeys.  First, all the floors of the house are tile with especially rich tile in the front porch.  Shoes are taken off before going inside (socks too), so chore 1 in the morning is sweeping the inside floors and spot mopping.  Then the yard, which is packed earth under mango, banana, coconut, and misc. trees is swept clean of leaves with a stiff broom make of bamboo splits.  It looks like a giant whisk.  Then water is splashed on the yard to take the dust down.  Some leftover rice and vegetables is fed to the ducks and Mrs. S. makes a trip out to her fields to bring back peanuts and bananas.  

Meanwhile Harry offers to take me around the village on his motorbike so I can see his mother's fields, etc.  I think he is bemused that I'm interested.  I told him about my grandparents growing up on farms and that seemed to explain my interest.  He is also surprised I think about how knowledgable I am about some plants, etc.  I suppose they think Westerners are as ignorant of their lives as we think they are of ours.

Mrs S. has two field sections and grows peanuts, corn and beans right now.  It's the dry season and the only people growing rice are those with fields close to the river for irrigation.  While she was showing me the field, one of her neighbors came by to pick some peanuts.  What they don't need for themselves, they sell.  Also barter for foods they don't grow, so there is some specialization.  We also went to a series of ponds where fish are grown for the table.  I tried to get a picture of a huge mother of a catfish, but he was too wily and kept ducking under a lily pad.

For breakfast I was served a chicken and vegetable soup, with rice.  Since I'm the honored guest, I got a chicken foot in my bowl.  This didn't phase me - I grew up in the South and we raised chickens.  She also made a spicy dish which they tried to explain the ingredients to me, without success.  After a bit I identified the chicken as being chicken gizzards in a VERY VERY hot sauce.  It was delicious, but the blisters may take awhile to go away.  I also had my first taste of coconut water right out of the coconut.  I didn't care for it much - a bit sour.

Mid-day Mr. Bono came by to take me batik shopping and to the airport.  Harry asked if the whole family could come since they wanted to see me off.  I said of course.  We visited the Kraton first (water palace), but it was closed for the fast.  So we went to the traditional market first to get a bag of snakefruit for me to take along (they had already packed me a large bag of oranges, juice and water boxes, coconut rolls, etc. They are convinced I'm going to become ill if I don't eat more.  Then off to a main shopping street and batik stores.  Everywhere in the city there are people who do nothing but help you park or pull out.  When I read about it, I thought it was strange, but seeing it in action, it makes sense.  With all the crazy motorbikes zipping about, and the complete lack of any traffic rules that I could comprehend, you would want an extra set of eyes.  At 1,000 Rp ($0.11), it's much cheaper than paying for an accident.

I survived the shopping, mostly because of the care the family took of me.  If there were any pickpockets about, they would have been no match for Mrs. S.  I found some lovely batik for myself.  Then I got one of the sisters aside and told her that it was the custom in my country to bring a gift for your hostess when you came to visit, and what would her mother like.  Well so much for stealth...  Of course the whole family had to decide.  Mrs. S. picked out a very pretty traditional Islamic woman's outfit (slacks & long tunic).  I got a chuckle watching her family convince her that the red made it look much younger than the blue.  She was very pleased.  And I was happy to have been able to do what I wanted to do without falling afoul of some unstated custom.

We still had an hour to kill and for once I volunteered to sit down and drink.  Since the adults were all fasting, they took the children to the equivalent of an arcade.  This is a good place to mention that from everything I saw Javanese children are much loved.  They are given a lot of lattitude, but not when it comes to fighting. Adults were always hugging the small ones and playing with them.  Scolding when needed was brief and then the subject was changed to something happy.  Underneath this lies something I don't quite understand though.  There is a certain militant posturing.  For example,  Harry had photo of himself in his uniform on top of a hotel with an anti-aircraft missle platform, blown up into a huge poster, of which he was very proud.

This is when I remembered that my best chance of finding clove cigerettes for a certain friend was before I left Java.  Since none of the family smoked, they took me to a big supermarket where I drove the girls at the cigerette counter a bit crazy sniffing all the packages, finally picking up several packs of different brands.  Oddly, this has been the most difficult souvenier to find - in the country that invented them.

Last stop the airport.  After the family said goodbye, I parked myself in a cafe to drink many glasses of tea and water and wait for my flight check in.  An American couple with 2 young sons came in after a bit and we struck up a conversation.  This turned out to be fortuitous for me later.  They were on their way back to Bali and the husband, Mark had spent many years there off and on (he's a wood carver).  When they heard I was going to Ubad, he drew me a map on the back of a receipt of the main part of town and indicated a good, inexpensive guest house (where I'm staying now) and the best places for good and cheap food.

As you can tell, the Indonesian plane (Lion Air) did not fall into the sea.  But because the flight was delayed (rubber clock they call it) and the hour time change (of which I knew nothing until I arrived), I ended up arriving by taxi at Midnight.  Needless to say the town was dead quiet.  Luckily I had the name of the guest house and the taxi driver was able to find it.  I'm also grateful I stuck to my 1 bag rule because I was very tired and wouldn't have enjoyed dragging luggage about.  After quietly prowling about, I found the office and woke the poor guy.  He was very kind and got me into an excellent room.

Shower, snack & sleep!! Tomorrow the beauty of Bali.

Four AM call to prayer - yikes.  Even with earplugs, you can't miss this one.  It was a good time to catch a quick snack while it's still cool though.  I don't know how long Mrs. S had been up, but there was already a spread laid out on the table.  It seems to be customary to start and end the day with a hot drink.  Last night was hot, sweet ginger tea (delicious) and this morning was hot chocolate (remember that I'm not talking Hersheys, but a milder flavor).  I think I amused and horrified Mrs S. by cutting up my banana into some plain rice and pouring my chocolate milk over it.  I got to spend the next 5 minutes explaining breakfast cereal. There was much laughter.  Breakfast also included leftovers from the night before and fresh papaya - along with the usual "eat eat".

I've arranged for Mr. Bono, a local school teacher, to drive us around all day to some major sites.  I've invited the whole family to come along too.  Evidently, it is a treat for them all to get to go around together since they don't own a car.  Mr Bono will also take me shopping and to the airport tomorrow.  All this for 150,000 Rp or about $15.  We're visiting two temples today.  Borobudur, the largest Buddhist temple in the world, it used to be a monastery, but now is a national heritage site.  I'll have picture up when I get back.  We're also going to Prambanan, a Hindu temple complex.  After that we're headed for Parangtritis, a small beach-side town on the Indian Ocean.

While waiting for Mr. Bono, I walked around the village a bit.  Everyone came out to watch.  I felt a bit like the circus had come to town.  Everyone is very friendly though.  I did get a bit of what I'm guessing was ribaldry from a couple of young men, but I gave them my "mom face" and they stopped.  Heh. I have a few pictures, but as I wasn't sure if it was polite to take pictures, only a few.  The oddest thing I saw this morning was Mrs. S. on her way to her field, riding her motorcycle with  her grandson tied to her back. 

The temples were amazing.  And all built by hand, with hand tools, and in this climate.  The pictures will have to suffice, since I can't figure out how to describe them.  I've run into the first gauntlet of tourist vendors.  The same everywhere.  I did pick up a caftan for myself though.  As a guest, I need something to sleep in besides my skin. It was comforting to see that the vendors were equal-annoyance to everyone in the party.

Although I climbed Borobudur, we couldn't get too close to Prambanan because it was seriously damaged by last year's earthquake and fenced off while they do repairs.

Mid-day prayers occurred while we were at Prambanan, so the men went off to the mosque and the rest of us sat down at a street vendor to feed the children (and the American).  It's so hot I could easily skip eating, but of course, that's not allowed.  I had my first local soft drink - Tehbotol, which I think is based on tea, but also tasted a bit like coffee and chocolate.  I carefully ignored the mosquito entombed in an ice chunk in my glass.  I was talked into trying a dish of noodles.  I will look up the name later and add it, but basicly it was ramen with spinach and egg and broth and ginger and fried garlic.  Minus the egg, very much like something I'd have for a light lunch at home.  I skipped the Sambal - chili sauce.

I don't think I mentioned it before, but I picked up a dozen postcards of Philadelphia while I was still in the Philly airport.  I thought they would come in handy and they did.  I gave one to each of the family units, Mrs. S., Harry, each sister, and to Mr. Bono.  They were very thrilled.  At least a little I suspect because they had no clue what I was saying when I said Philadelphia.  A picture really is worth at least 500 words.  I also deduced during some of these conversations (Mr. Bono spoke some English) that my visit was raising the family's status in the village.  Mr. Bono kept asking me over to stay with him and his wife.  At first I figured it was just a matter of politeness, but I'm pretty sure it had to do with pecking order now.  Mr. Bono lives in the 2nd largest house in the village and as a teacher, is well respected.  He also owns a car - a rarity.  I only saw one other in a village of around 1200 people. 

Our last stop was to be either a volcano or the ocean.  I picked ocean.  Once again the pictures are going to have to say most of it.  We couldn't go swimming because the waves and undertow make it too dangerous, but I did do some wave chasing and got quite soaked and sandy.  The whole family raced down the beach in pony carts at one point.  Again, pictures later.  About 500 feet of the beach side was rubble being cleared by a bulldozer.  There was a quake last year that did a great deal of damage and many of the shops closest to the water had been destroyed.

After the beach, the sun was setting, so a stop by a mosque on the way home.  I should mention at this point that only Mrs. S. Harry and his wife and Mr. Bono are religious.  As in wearing the traditional headscarves, etc.  The two sisters weren't.  I thought it was interesting to see a mix of observance in the same family and village.  Since I have gotten along by carefully watching what my hosts do, I had the interesting experience of washing my face, hands, arms, and feet free of sand and dirt in a spigot outside the mosque.  It only makes sense in a climate like this - especially during the dry season with all the dust.  Some of the women then went to pray also while a couple of us stayed with the children.

Since the fast was over with prayers and sundown, I treated the whole family to dinner.  They wanted McDonalds.  Well it looks like McDonalds, and my cheeseburger and fries and coke were certainly about the same, but the rest of the menu got strange.  The family uniformly ordered a chicken platter.  1 piece of fried chicken, rice, soup, and a drink.  Nothing you would see on an American menu, not even at KFC (another popular spot here).  About now is when I realized that the "city people" around us thought that the family were hicks.  I guess some things are pretty uniform across cultures.  Oh, if you do hit a McDonalds or KFC, I highly recommend mixing the ketchup 50/50 with the sambal - spicy ketchup on fries.

By the time we got back to the village, all I wanted to do was take a shower and sleep.  Oh the beauty of being a guest!  I got the first shower, although this time I let Harry convince me to go to his sister's house and use her "modern" shower.  Clean skin OMG!  After that, a bowl of papaya and bed.

More later!

Oh... among the other bits of local Jakartan color, my taxi driver was shook down by the Police for a bribe as he took me to my hotel.  It wasn't much - about $2, but the underlying culture that illustrates is one of the reasons Indonesia is considered to be one of the most corrupt countries in the world.  Evidently, the military is exempt from being shook down - as I found out later.

OK.. back to the train. It is an 8 hour ride from Jakarta to Jogya (slang for Yogyakarta).  I took the day train so I could see the countryside.  I don't have much in the way of picture, obviously from a moving train, but I can draw you a couple.  Imagine another train passing by - an economy class train...  It is sardine-can packed with people, all doors open with people hanging their feet out, and young men riding on the roof of the train.  All of this in 90+ degree weather.  I guess it beats walking.  Outside of a few highrise buildings, everyone seems to live in a single-floor compound-like structure.  Building materials range from concrete to woven bamboo and palm frond.  It's the dry season, so there is a lot of dust everywhere and the plants are in low-green mode.  Still, it's beautiful.  There seems to be no garbage pick up - or if there is, it's not working.  There is a lot of trash.

Harry & family were in another car, but he came back to check on me a couple of times and make sure I was doing alright, inviting me up into their car in the last hour of the trip.  They're village is about 30 minutes outside the city and they were going to get there on two motorbikes - yes, 2 adults, 1 baby, and a lot of luggage.  Believe me that's not nearly the strangest thing I saw on the back of a bike...  my tally so far includes a crate of live chickens, a woman holding a CPU,  a boy holding a very unhappy dog (I should mention, the only dog I saw in Java), huge bundles of every possible kind of vegetable, and a snack machine.  We took a taxi instead.

Jogya has one of the few Indonesian kingdoms left and is a very large city - packed wall to wall with people it feel like, although a bit smaller than Jakarta.  Everywhere the swarms of death-defying motorbikes.  Not 15 minutes out of town though and it turned into green fields.  The village name is Pete, pronounce Peh-teh.  It is a traditional farming village, Islamic.  Harry's mother is a farmer.  His sister and her husband and two sons lived a couple of doors down and his younger sister and her son lived with their mother while her husband was away.  A large and enthusiastic family.  I was greeted warmly by his mother and we proceeded to communicate mostly by smiles and gestures.  Now the fun started.  I have only the simplest idea of what is considered polite in Indonesia outside of a few things like don't eat with your left hand, so I was going by feel.  I think I did pretty well.  It helped to have traveled in Islamic countries before.  

We arrived close to the sunset so I was seated with cold drinks and snacks while most of the family went to the mosque to pray before breaking fast.  That started the constant encouragement to eat.  I was offered food almost every hour on the hour and drinks just as often.  I started the nibbling habit.  That seemed to be what everyone was doing, nibbling their way through the day.  It must work, everyone is skinny despite eating a LOT of rice and sugar.

I realized while writing this that i so often describe food when I travel because it's always been an inexpensive way to get a sense of a country...  So be prepared to hear about a lot of food!  I have tried my first new tropical fruit today and I'm in love.  It's called Salak (snake fruit because the skin looks like snakeskin).  It resembles a small advocado and is very, very tasty.  The oranges are quite good too - so juicy and perfect when you're hot (which is all the time).  Mrs. Sumaryam (Mom) made sate, stewed jackfruit, fried chicken, and a very spicy dish of tofu, tempeh, cow skin (think pork rinds) and vegetables.  I have no idea what it was called, but it's the first tempeh I've eaten that I liked.  Jackfruit is a hugh spiky fruit with a mild flavor you can eat raw or cook.  I had to be a tiny bit careful because a great deal of their food is prepared in such a way that it keeps for a long time at room temperature and it may be served two days running.  I'm brave, but not brave enough to eat chicken the second day.

I have now had my first experience with traditional Indonesian plumbing.  I'm so glad I had already run into this in Morocco.  Harry was so apologetic and wanted to take me to his sister's house to shower, etc, because she has a sit down toliet and a shower.  I reassured him that I understood the plumbing and I was perfectly content with cold water.  Believe me, in this climate, cold water is marvelous.  It was so funny watching him try to figure out a polite way to explain the plumbing to me.  I took pity on him and stopped him.  Oh... Harry and his wife are 28 and their son is around 18 months and a real cutie.  It's usual to be asked a number of questions by Indonesians that Americans might think are a bit personal.  One of them is your age.  I had a bit of a laugh when I told them my age.  All of a sudden I stopped being a peer and they started treating me more formally.  Age is very respected here, so I had to assure them many times that I preferred to be called just by my first name.

Among other questions, you can be expected to be asked your religion.  Not being stupid, I just go with Christian.  Pagans, agnostics, and athiests are neither really understood (unless you're Hindu) nor looked favorably upon.   Other questions include "have you bathed?"  "have you eaten?" and of course, where are you from, are you married, do you have children.  They were sad for me that I wasn't married anymore and by the end of the visit were suggesting I might like a nice Indonesian mate.

All of the family came over to meet me and to grab a snack together.  By this time I was dragging, so they encouraged me to go to bed by the third yawn.  I have a quiet room to myself with a fan.  I'm pretty sure I have the younger sister's room.  The mosque is like 4 doors away, so ear plugs in, a 15 minute bedtime read and it's off to snooze land.  More later....

Jakarta:  Earplugs.  My boss laughed at me for bringing 3 pairs, but they are the single thing I could least do without.  As it is Ramadan, the call for prayer started at 4 AM - and I'm pretty sure you are never more than 500 m from a mosque.  I awoke late with only 20 minutes to grab myself and get to Gambir station.  The morning train to Yogyakarta leaves at 6:20 AM.  Since it would be a 15 minute walk, I grabbed a taxi - OMG, not an "approved, only safe taxi in the whole country - Bluebird", but just a taxi.  As you can see, I was not kidnapped.  So far, Indonesia is a lot like Belize in climate and Morocco in attitudes.  Even with the taxi, I missed the first train and ended up on the more expensive "executive class" train.  I'm glad I did!  Executive comes with an assigned seat, air conditioning, and a welcome cup of tea and box lunch - and a restaurant car. 

As a quick interlude:  Starbucks, Chilis, Circle K, KFC, McDonalds, Popeye's Chicken, to name a few.  I can't decide it it's jarring to see all of these franchises or comforting.

The other reason I'm glad I caught the later train is that i met a lovely couple with their little boy: Sudi Harsono (nickname Harry), his wife Fitri Kusumawati, and their son Habibi Harfi Ananda.  Harry is in the Indonesian military and was traveling home to his village outside of Yogyakarta to spend the end of Ramadan holiday with his family.  Once he learned we were on the same train, he invited me to come and visit his family.  I decided why not?  So after a couple of polite declines, I accepted.  I'll be back with much more later, but I've been on an hour - and I'm ravenous for breakfast.

Oh, I'm writing this from Ubud, Bali.  If I ever fall in love again, I'm bringing them here.


 

Philadelphia airport:  I feel a bit like a bee swimming in honey - sticky and moving very slow.   I've passed the first hurdle just by checking in at Philadelphia.  I had this vague fear that my ticket would turn out to be counterfit or an outbreak of SARS would sabotage this trip.  But instead everything went smoothly.  My flight boards in an hour and I'm deliberately not thinking more than one leg ahead.  Los Angeles in 6 hours.  This feels so unreal.

Los Angeles airport:   I've been in transit now for 13 hours if you count from my front door to this seat.  I've been avoiding napping hoping to be dead to the world for the long hop next.  Jon told me that I must eat at an In & Out Burger, and since there is one just outside LAX, easily accessible both ways by the Parking Spot shuttle (imagine a shuttle bus painted like a block of swiss-cheddar cheese, I headed there first.  Per Jon's instructions, I ordered a triple-animal style (which means with grilled onions & goodies) and fresh-cut fries.  He was right - damn tasty and I'm stopping here on the way back.  In other news, I waited in line with at least 200 asians to check in with China Air.  Already I'm feeling tall and white.

In route Los Angeles -> Taipei:  I was hesitant about flying China Air, to the point of having googled their air safety record, etc.  I'm glad I did.  Starting with hot towels, service was amazing.  They had a dual menu: western & chinese, so I dinnered western and breakfasted on congi (rice porriage) and the trimmings.  I recommend skipping the preserved egg unless you have a strong desire to eat something that tastes like it's been dead for awhile.  I was seated next to a charming American - ethnic Chinese who was on his way to Bangkok to field-test something military in the jungle.  We spent several hours talking on wide-ranging subjects - lovely to have an intelligent, interesting seatmate.  Then unconciousness for 8 hours. As for the rest, all I can say is I'm grateful for movies. Between Bruce Willis and Harry Potter I survived the 14 hour flight.

Taipei airport:  Layovers are the bitch.  I had 6 hours in LAX and now almost 3 hours here.  At least it gave me some time to have breakfast (beef noodle soup) and drink enough cold tea to feel human again.  I'm starting to feel the travel strain.  It's now Friday.  Yes, what with the time zones and date line, I've skipped Thursday. Tired doesn't begin to describe it.  The airport is bland, but well stocked with duty-free shops of every description.  On shop specializes in chinese teas, including very fine tea pots.  I have a suspicion that I will be loading up on the way back, but right now i'm not buying anything.  One bag is heaven.

Jakarta:  Finally!  After a five hour flight all I want to do is sleep and sleep and sleep... well and shower.  I decided to splurge a bit and get a more upscale hotel for the one night.  I'm staying in the Jalan Jaska area - a inexpensive collection of shops, hotels, and eateries mostly catering to the budget international crowd, but for all that - perfect.  The Hotel Karya Bahana is built out of marble and polished hardwood, now enjoying a shabby old age.  Nevertheless, the room had AC and a bathtub I could do laps in.  Probably the last bathtub I will see until Philly.  I was so tired that I thought I would sleep until the next day, but after a shower and a few hours sleep, I decided to venture out at least for food.

Jalan Jaska:  The street stall food would have to be seen to be described, but the aroma of sate grilling on charcoal makes me feel reckless, so I buy a bowl of rice with anonymous meat sate.  Absolutely delicious.  The one advantage of being in a mostly Islamic country, is that it is probably not dog or rat.  My guess is goat from the texture.  I must learn to make this when I come back.  Next a quick stop to an internet kiosk to check my e-mail.  The connection was too slow for anything else.  This placed reminds me of my sister-in-law's husband's place in Belmophan (Belize).  A few machines of uncertain age in a small room with several fans.  Very basic, but very wonderful.  After that I was still hungry, so I tried a small cafe that catered more to tourists across from my hotel.  I'm still chuckling over their translation of a ham sandwich.  It included cucumbers and thousand island dressing on a very good toasted bagette.  I guess the place has a bakery on site and makes all their own bread.  I also had a chocolate shake after which I almost felt human.  Another quick walk before bed.  The streets are still very busy, which makes sense both because it is Ramadan and people are eating in the evening and because it's so bloody hot during the day.  I have still not managed to acquire any Bahasa Indonesian besides hello, good morning, and thank you.  It just won't stick in my mind.  But, so far, that has been all I've needed.  Everyone is very friendly.  Last thing a little Indonesian TV before bed - and Cradle of Life with Indonesian subtitles.  

Side note:  I've aged at least 5 years just riding in the taxi from the airport to the middle of Jakarta.  This is the craziest driving I've seen outside of Mexico City.  Between the huge number of motorbikes and scooters darting everywhere; the tendency to use the shoulder as a lane; and being inches from other speeding vehicles at all times; I felt a sense of fatalism come over me.  I figured if I survived the taxi ride, then anything else in Java is cake.