Yogyakarta​, Indonesia

An early morning flight took me to Yogyakarta a major city in Java, the island just above Bali. The country's most prestigious university is in this town and Yogi, a young man I'm supposed to meet, is graduating as my plane is landing. Two of his friends met me at the airport, took me to my hostel, then kept me entertained until time to meet Yogi at the university.

Yogi, his mother and younger brother.

Prambanan is a Hindu temple complex. Yogi's friend, Muhsin, told me the story of how it came about. A king wanted to take a reluctant young beauty as his bride and was given the following request, guaranteed to win her affection. He was to build a thousand temples in one night. When morning came, nine hundred and ninety nine temples were complete. Alas! he was spurned. This enraged him so much that he turned her into a temple, thereby creating the thousandth temple. Its a wonderful story. The modern day temple complex is still in a state of major reconstruction with piles of stone everywhere yet seemingly in some sort of order. There was damage done the last major earthquake which has further impeded progress.

Part of the Prambanan temple complex.

The following day, Yogi and friends picked me up again and took me to the Borobudur temple complex. This one is a Buddhist temple, a huge temple complex with tiers, each lined on both sides with carvings, carvings and more carvings. I suppose there is a lot of Buddhist mythology there but it isn't clear because the boys are Muslim and I know little of Buddhism. We had some fun guessing the meanings of these relief carvings that seemed to be more about the earth, occupation and animals on the lower level and more in the clouds as we climbed higher. Ascension, maybe? We had a MeMeTheWorld mug (www.memetheworld.com) that we put in the arms of Buddhah to load on the MeMe website. We also put my magnet (www.magnegift.blogspot.com) in the hands of various carvings and in the teeth of the lion. Yogi told me that the temple was damaged in a volcanic eruption and the whole complex was wrapped in plastic to protect it from ash. No, folks, I didn't make that up. Yogi volunteered for the project and showed me a photo. My day with the boys ended with a farewell dinner at a popular restaurant serving traditional Indonesian fare. I let Yogi order for me, a really good drink with the non-traditional name of the monster, and an avacado shake with chocolate swirled around inside the glass.Yum.

I had a little time before dinner so I hired a becak driver to take me to what I call the graffitti wall. A becak is one of those rickshaw cabs driven by a bicycle rider who pedals behind it. Traffic was absolutely crazy but that guy nosed into it fearlessly. I felt a little guilty about riding because I could feel the motion of his pedaling behind my seat and knew he was laboring hard, especially uphill. He took me to several places where there was street art, and Yogyakarta has lots of it, through neighborhoods where people were cooking on the street, men playing chess on a blanket, guys hanging out on corners and a dump picker or two. It was all a pretty fascinating ride.

So-o-o much graffiti in Yogyakarta!

Kuta, Indonesia

Kuta is yet another big city with insane traffic. My hostel was located on what rates as barely more than an alley and the directions were confusing. I found the street after a fashion and a man told me 300 meters as if I knew the length of a meter. I walked and walked past the jumble of little shops, mostly catering to local needs while motorbikes whizzed by in some kind of mad rush. There were many little food stands and warungs, many laundries, repair businesses, some sewing shops and beauty parlors. I found number 21 where the inn was full and the manager told me there are many 21s, 300 meters more. So I trudged on, sweating and tired, until I finally found the right #21. This Kuta neighborhood was really a fascinating little warren. The shops are tiny, having a makeshift look, all different. The building styles, roof designs and fronts vary from one another, a haphazard-looking mix and I really find that to be fascinating. At the end I found a huge building, maybe a throwback from Dutch rule, turned there, and eventually found my way into a fairly modern business district jammed with vehicles, very noisy, as Kuta tends to be. I like what I see off the beaten path, down the little alleys where chickens wander the roadways, laundry hangs to dry and schoolkids in their appropriate uniforms play their way home.

My street

In my alleyway were several shops of men making shoes and boots on antiquated sewing machines.

A shot of a more modern version of Kuta.

In front of a large building with carved panels probably leftover from the Dutch rule, a man with a little food stand was making a fruit drink for someone so I got in line. I don't know what it was but it had a juice, chunks of canten cubes, similar to jello, pieces of pineapple and strawberries, wit canned milk drizzled on top, ice cubes thrown in, give it a good stir, and the price is 5,000 rupiah, about fifty cents. I also bought some little banana sweets that were almost like ladyfingers but drowned in syrup, sprinkled with coconut and cost 3,000 rupiahs. I sat on the steps of a small neighborhood mosque and devoured it while watching a young boy launch his kite.

Dinner was at the warung across the street from my hostel. Their menu was posted in pictures on the front but too faded to distinguish. Nobody spoke English and I not a work of Indonesian, and I wanted meat. I kept asking, pork, chicken, beef, and I got blank looks. Then I tried cow, pig, chicken but still blank looks. Next thing you know, I'm oinking, mooing and, when I did my great chicken imitation, I hit paydirt. I was served the scrawniest little chicken leg and thigh I've ever seen with a few chunks of cabbage and cucumber along with round green sticks I couldn't identify but ate anyway. The next evening, in Java, I found myself getting quacked at by the owner of a warung who was trying to tell me they had duck. Touche.

 

A statue I passed on the way to the airport.

Bali Temple Tour

I signed up with a tour from Ubud to see a few temples among other things. Sometimes one can get into overload with these tours and this one did it for me. By the end of the day, I am unable to remember much about any of these temples, not that our driver offered up information. He just drove.

First stop was Goa Gajah, the elephant temple, dubbed for the carving over the mouth of the entry cave. Those carvings are now thought to be demons maybe to ward off evil spirits. This temple was built in the eleventh century, I think.

Check me out in my sorong.

Next stop is known as the rock temple. Its defining features are the three huge rock carvings as well as some very primitive outlines carved in mossy green boulders. A bridge leads across a waterway with a small waterfall to a temple complex with a few grass-topped pavilions the same shape as many in Ubud back yards. It was a very nice hike down between a couple rice paddies and a heart thumping walk back up all those steps.

Rice paddies at the rock temple

Before going on to another temple we stopped at a local coffee plantation. They say it is the best in Bali as they plied us with samples. All of us chose coconut coffee as the number one choice with ginger coffee following close behind. We saw the plants, peeled a few of the berries and were given a small demonstration of the roasting process. Then we were taken to the shop...of course!

Back to the temples, this time Pura Tirtha Empul which has pools that are said to have healing properties. I suspect most of the bathers were escaping the heat. Around the pools there was a blue stone walkway that I found more interesting than the pools themselves. I dodged bathers and circled around to the temples themselves. Much more interesting were the pavilions and statues, more plentiful and ornate than those viewed earlier. Once again I am taken by the animals with the exaggerated expressions.

At Pura Tirtha Empul

At Pura Tirtha Empul

The grandest temple on the tour was Puru Ulan Bator. This one is huge, walled in and looked to be of the same type of structures as the prior temples. I did not pay to go in. Instead I took photos of the outside. The statues there were colorful and very different. 

At Ulan Batur

At Ulan Batur

We were then taken to a famous rice terrace view, or so the driver said. As usual, there is a charge for driving up to do no more than gawk and take photos.

The rice terraces

Finally our day tour was done and what do we do...we get together and sucker some taxi driver into taking us to the Tonah Lot Temple on the west coast of Bali in hopes of catching a nice sunset. I am now officially templed out.

Tonah Lot

Ubud, Indonesia

Ubud is the earthy, arty city in Indonesia, or so its said. There are so many shops offering items related to yoga, massages, vegan warungs (restaurants), clothing stores geared to the hip and so on. There are millions of homestays available aside from the hotels that are closer to where the monkey forest is. I was in an older neighborhood and quite enamored before I saw the modern side of the city which is infinitely less interesting. The roosters on my street crow about 4:00 am, the patio is being swept at 6:00 am, and breakfast is served when I get up. Imagine all that new-age stuff and in the midst of it all, there are chickens, stray dogs and lots of litter. Still, I like Ubud.

Ubud Street Scene

Cadang

Every morning people lay out little palm offerings, cadang, like small trays, with some sort of dried plant matter, flower petals, fresh yellow flowers with a strong scent, and a food offering, perhaps a cracker. They are in doorways, on steps, on autos, motor scooters, in the arms of statues...they are everywhere. I've been watching the lady make them in the office-store at my losman and people stop in to buy them day in and day out. New offerings are laid out daily but the old ones don't seem to get picked, giving the town a look of chronic litter. There was a special day for vehicles and people really went all out decorating their rides. It is amazing the shape and form given to that one material, the palm frond. On my last day, I went by a temple full of women working at tables in all stages of making them while the men lined both sides of the street stripping and splitting bamboo, making screens, weaving palm baskets. I was told there will be a special cremation ceremony in September and they are preparing for it. 

Decorated Scooter for Special Day

Across from my patio there is a little space made up to be a studio where the family grandfather paints off and on all day. Being from an art background, I couldn't resist striking up a conversation. I showed him my trip diary drawings and he shared with me a folder of his sketches. He paints stories from the Hindu tradition in intricate detail with many graceful figures and an amazing amount of detail. His grandson who, at ten years old, already speaks several languages served as our interpreter. I learned that the painter had been a headmaster who was well rated and didn't really take up art until he retired. 

Grandfather and Paintings

I've had a few adventures with food in Ubud. I had a tamarind-ginger-lemon drink at the warung up the street. It had sludge in the bottom that had to be stirred regularly and was served with a sugar syrup to sweeten it. Strong, strong but pretty good in an interesting way. I am actually in love with the lemon grass tea from the other street as well as lemon grass ice cream. I saw a man cutting something rolled up with scissors and asked if I could buy some. I got a waxed brown paper cone with some of those slices served with a bean sauce with little red beans in it. It was great. At the market I bought a variety of palm-wrapped or coned items that turned out to be rice and coconut sweets. My painter friend saw me with those and said, "ah, you eat Balinese." I think that is to be taken as approval.

Breakfast at Demank House Homestay

Leaving Ubud, the shuttle took us through the same carving area I saw the night I flew in. Yes, lots of statues and carvings, my eyes did not deceive me. I notice that many of  them are cast of ferro cement, or something similar. I don't know if that's cheating or not.

Ubud, Bali

Our plane touched down in Densapar, Bali without a hitch, customs was a breeze, and my driver was waiting with a sea of others holding signs with names. 

The ride to Ubud was a pretty wild ride, also an interesting one. First of all, one must get used to the way people drive here. Who am I to say the steering wheel is on the wrong side, yet it is. One would assume that lanes are reversed. They are, but nobody pays attention. Traffic here is like an intricate weaving at full speed. Minivans, motorbikes, bicycles with or without big cargo loads, and pedestrians are vying for a space, any space, and , boy, do they cut it close! The drivers beep a lot, more to announce intent, almost never out of anger. I am fast developing nerves of steel.

Once out of the city, we drove through streets lined with sculptures. My driver explained that Bali specializes in carving, and they do, in stone, wood, coconuts, horn and skulls. If it can be done, they do it and in the most intricate detail. At one point we passed a pickup truck with a huge frog tied to the top of it and something with wings in the back. It was a kite, I'm told, and flying them is big in Bali. Sometimes there are competitions. If only I had my camera!

Its all about religion here, mostly Hindu. Almost every home has some sort of temple in it, the size having to do with means. Why, I ask. The answer is obvious: to make it easier to worship. Walking down any street in Ubud is an adventure because backyards are not just lawns, but temples, colorful, thatched, red tiled  and adorned to the hilt. This is where the market for all those carvings come in. Statues are everywhere.

One of those statues.

This is the entry to the private temple next door to my homestay.

Qatar From the Outside

I took Qatar Airways to Denoasar, Indonesia and what luxury it was! Even in economy the seats were comfortable with lots of leg room, a TV screen on the back of each seat, and a courtesy package containing a toothbrush, sleep mask, earplugs, even a pair of socks. The hostesses all have their hair in neat little buns at their necks and wear boat shaped burgundy hats that remind me of the world war II era. They were all young with fine features and ready smiles. The food and drink were gratis. I had lamb for my evening meal and a tofu scramble for breakfast. On a later flight, I was so close to the engine I could barely hear so I nodded when I was offered my breakfast and got a Nutella and almond crepe with a sweet custard sauce...yummy!

Never have I seen so many shades of brown skin and such a variety of traditional dress as was in the Doha airport. There were women in intricately patterned saris and shawls wrapped around head and shoulders, a few in black robes and burkas with slits, men in crocheted hats, and the Saudi dress of white robes and turbans. What a feast of cultures!  I noticed that the women in saris pulled their shawls over their heads, becoming colorful sleeping lumps. I spoke briefly to people from a couple of African nations, Saudi Arabia, the Philippines, Sri Lanka to name a few.

I read that the layover time in the Doha airport is a minimum of eight hours which gives plenty of time to shop, a smart economic move, I say. There was a big-time mall atmosphere in the airport and perfumes were big. For those who wanted to take care of devotional matters while waiting, there was a mosque I didn't attempt to enter. There was a foot washing station and a prayer room attached to each women's restroom, separate and more private, of course. In the Muslim culture, men and women pray separately. Signs in the airport are in English and what I think is Hindi. It is a form of calligraphy so graceful, almost lyrical to me as I imagine it almost singing.

The inside of the airport was all I saw of Qatar

Coming Up...

Next stop, Indonesia in late August. Check it out.