Wednesday night we were dropped off at a hotel in Jakarta late at night. We hadn't had any dinner and we were so tired we didn't feel like trying to trek around the city to locate decent food. Instead we ate granola bars and almonds and crashed into bed. The next morning we took an hour flight from Jakarta to Yogyakarta (pronounced Jogjakarta, or Jogja for short). We took a taxi to our little motel called Duta Guest house. The rooms were very simply tiled, with a typical Asian bathroom. (A typical Asian bathroom is entirely tiled and has a toilet, a small sink, a shower head on the wall and a drain in the corner of the room--the whole bathroom is your shower. Oakley's bathroom is like this. He sits on the toilet to shower.) It was clean and air conditioned and we only saw a couple cockroaches (no big deal after having rats under our feet). The hotel was beautifully decorated and had a waterfall and a pool. It was located in a touristy district which made finding good food, tours, transportation and shopping very convenient. It was also in walking distance of several historical landmarks.
Just like most developing Asian nations, Indonesia was filled with mopeds, bicycles and tuk tuks. Like I have said before, it never ceases to amaze me what people can carry on mopeds, or how many family members can pile on!
The first afternoon we went around our little city block and went shopping for batik art. Batik fabric is a traditional art of Indonesia, Malaysia and other southeast Asian cultures. Batiks are made by taking cotton or other fabrics and first sketching a picture on the fabric. The artist then outlines the artwork with melted wax. It is dipped in dye of a light color, the dye does not take where the wax has been applied. Then more wax is added and it is dyed a slightly different color, and the process continues until the darkest color is applied. Then the wax is boiled off and a beautiful piece of colorful art is left. (I will take some pictures of my souvenirs and post them separately.) We spent a lot of time buying batik artwork and batik sarongs over the course of the next several days. 
That first evening, we went to Pramaban (an ancient Hindu temple very similar to the ones we saw in Siem Reap) to watch a traditional Indonesian dance performace entitled, "Ramayana Ballet." It told the story of the Bhagavad Gita--the holy Hindu scriptures. It was very complicated. . . and long. . . and boring. But, then again, most ballet is--I should know. The movement and costumes were beautiful, but like western ballet, it is a little slow and repetitive and can be boring for lay people to watch.
The next morning, we started hoofing it through the city to see the Sultan's Palace. Some old man approached us and asked if we were lost. He said he would show us the way to the Sultan's Palace. Indonesians still have a Sultan who does not play a role in governing, but is a traditional and loved figurehead in their society. The current Sultan, however, only has five daughters and no sons, so the country is uncertain if the line will continue. (I say it's about time for a female Sultan--come on Indonesia join the 21st Century!) When we arrived there was a giant stage and there were NO tourists there, only caterers setting up a meal. The old man took us to look around the building. There was a giant wooden bed all hand carved from the 1800s.
There were courtyards and porticos.
There were beautiful gardens and a swimming pool--but no other tourists besides us, only gardners giving us a really weird look. 
The whole thing seemed a little off, but we went with it. The old man stuck right by us--being so helpful that we began to realize he wanted something out of it. He said he would show us the way to our next stop, the Water Castle. We started getting a little concerned when we were winding through tiny back alleys. He stopped and took us into a shop that handmade leather shadow puppets--another traditional art. 
They were beautiful and cost far more than we wanted to spend, especially because we never asked to go there in the first place! We left and the old man continued to follow us. We couldn't shake him. We kept thanking him and telling him we could go on our own from there--but he was one persistent bugger. Usually, I try to say something very sweet and gracious to the pestering person and then give them the silent treatment as I hurry off. It wasn't working with this guy. Fortunately, one of the women I was better and being firm and was able to shake this guy for us. What we found out later was that this guy had not really taken us to the Sultan's palace, but to the backyard of either a rich person's house or a restaurant/buffet type place. No wonder the gardners were looking at us so funny!
They were beautiful and cost far more than we wanted to spend, especially because we never asked to go there in the first place! We left and the old man continued to follow us. We couldn't shake him. We kept thanking him and telling him we could go on our own from there--but he was one persistent bugger. Usually, I try to say something very sweet and gracious to the pestering person and then give them the silent treatment as I hurry off. It wasn't working with this guy. Fortunately, one of the women I was better and being firm and was able to shake this guy for us. What we found out later was that this guy had not really taken us to the Sultan's palace, but to the backyard of either a rich person's house or a restaurant/buffet type place. No wonder the gardners were looking at us so funny!Our next stop legitimately was the Water Castle, which was the Sultan's palace in the early 1800s. The palace was originally designed by a Portugese architect, but was affected by one of many earthquakes and eruptions of Mt. Merapi, which changed the flow of underground springs making it impossible to fill the pools that you see below.
The Sultan had 40 wives (or some astronomical number), but he chose only one to be the queen and to bear his heir. The pool below was the pool for the women and the children.
This pool was the Sultan's private pool for only himself and the queen. Originally all of the walls were a deep brown, as were the pools and the floors. However, in 2004 the Portuguese sent restoration teams and gave ample money to restore the facility. At the time of the restoration, the Portuguese decided to change some of the small details to make it look more aesthetically pleasing. I have to admit, it really was a beautiful place.
Our tour guide was incredibly interesting. While the other two women shopped (I'm not much of long-distance shopper, I prefer to shop in sprints), I sat and talked with him and asked him all kinds of questions about Indonesian culture and society. He told me about how the children must pay to go to school and buy uniforms, so many children stay uneducated. He told me about their socialized healthcare that is terrible both in quality and customer service and only the lower middle class and poor are put on socialized healthcare. He also said that because his family's home is on the land still owned by the Sultan today (adjacent to the Water Castle), he is required by law to be the Sultan's servant two times a week. He must be a tour guide for free as his requisite labor. We tipped him well to try to compensate for that!
On the other side of the castle are small alleys that wind through the city to an entrance to an underground mosque. I was amazed by the colors and quaint simplicity of their lives so I probably snapped a hundred pictures of what people there might consider "nothing important," but I thought it was so beautiful.
This little shed was the secret entrance to the underground mosque built by one of the early Sultans.
The Water Castle/Underground mosque was one of the highlights of the trip! Afterward, we got in one of these little bicycle carts and took a ride to Marliboro market for an afternoon of shopping.
First lunch of Nasi Goreng (Indonesian Fried Rice) and Indonesian fried chicken. We were very careful to eat fried food and get bottled drinks. We also brushed our teeth with bottled water to avoid the traveler's plague of Montezuma's revenge. We did pretty well, until the last day two of us got it.
This is a picture of a Batik artist applying the first layer of wax to the fabric which already has the print of a peacock on it. This was an incredibly intricate piece. We found a store that looked like an Indonesian version of Pier 1 Imports--except everything only cost a minute fraction of that. We were busy for a couple hours picking out gifts for family members. I have thirty nieces and nephews that I love to spoil. I think because my aunts, uncles and cousins were estranged from our family for the most part, I overcompensate by sending little trinkets from foriegn countries to my family members. I walked out of the store carrying several heavy laden bags with me. Unfortunately, it made further shopping in the outdoor market challenging because I couldn't get through the tight passages between swarms of people with all of my loot. And it was dumping rain, so we headed back to our hotel in a horse drawn carriage. I think we took every form of random transportation out there :)!
At four a.m. the next morning we left on a sunrise tour of Borobudur in the countryside outside of Yogyakarta. It was an ancient Buddhist temple built in the 9th century AD.
It was a beautiful setting, but I think I've said it before: I'm a little burnt out on Buddhist temples. Don't take that the wrong way. I'm a Christian and if I toured as many cathedrals or churches, I would be burnt out on those, too.
The funniest part were the young children that wanted to talk to us. I think they had been given assignments by their teachers to find an English speaking tourist and interview them. So we were interviewed about 45 times and had countless pictures snapped of us like we were being followed by the paparazzi. They were adorable. They especially loved Niki because she is pretty, has gorgeous blondish hair and she's almost 6 feet tall--so she was super intriguing to them.
The Sultan had 40 wives (or some astronomical number), but he chose only one to be the queen and to bear his heir. The pool below was the pool for the women and the children.
This pool was the Sultan's private pool for only himself and the queen. Originally all of the walls were a deep brown, as were the pools and the floors. However, in 2004 the Portuguese sent restoration teams and gave ample money to restore the facility. At the time of the restoration, the Portuguese decided to change some of the small details to make it look more aesthetically pleasing. I have to admit, it really was a beautiful place.
Our tour guide was incredibly interesting. While the other two women shopped (I'm not much of long-distance shopper, I prefer to shop in sprints), I sat and talked with him and asked him all kinds of questions about Indonesian culture and society. He told me about how the children must pay to go to school and buy uniforms, so many children stay uneducated. He told me about their socialized healthcare that is terrible both in quality and customer service and only the lower middle class and poor are put on socialized healthcare. He also said that because his family's home is on the land still owned by the Sultan today (adjacent to the Water Castle), he is required by law to be the Sultan's servant two times a week. He must be a tour guide for free as his requisite labor. We tipped him well to try to compensate for that!
On the other side of the castle are small alleys that wind through the city to an entrance to an underground mosque. I was amazed by the colors and quaint simplicity of their lives so I probably snapped a hundred pictures of what people there might consider "nothing important," but I thought it was so beautiful.
This little shed was the secret entrance to the underground mosque built by one of the early Sultans.
The Water Castle/Underground mosque was one of the highlights of the trip! Afterward, we got in one of these little bicycle carts and took a ride to Marliboro market for an afternoon of shopping.
First lunch of Nasi Goreng (Indonesian Fried Rice) and Indonesian fried chicken. We were very careful to eat fried food and get bottled drinks. We also brushed our teeth with bottled water to avoid the traveler's plague of Montezuma's revenge. We did pretty well, until the last day two of us got it.
This is a picture of a Batik artist applying the first layer of wax to the fabric which already has the print of a peacock on it. This was an incredibly intricate piece. We found a store that looked like an Indonesian version of Pier 1 Imports--except everything only cost a minute fraction of that. We were busy for a couple hours picking out gifts for family members. I have thirty nieces and nephews that I love to spoil. I think because my aunts, uncles and cousins were estranged from our family for the most part, I overcompensate by sending little trinkets from foriegn countries to my family members. I walked out of the store carrying several heavy laden bags with me. Unfortunately, it made further shopping in the outdoor market challenging because I couldn't get through the tight passages between swarms of people with all of my loot. And it was dumping rain, so we headed back to our hotel in a horse drawn carriage. I think we took every form of random transportation out there :)!
At four a.m. the next morning we left on a sunrise tour of Borobudur in the countryside outside of Yogyakarta. It was an ancient Buddhist temple built in the 9th century AD.
It was a beautiful setting, but I think I've said it before: I'm a little burnt out on Buddhist temples. Don't take that the wrong way. I'm a Christian and if I toured as many cathedrals or churches, I would be burnt out on those, too.
The funniest part were the young children that wanted to talk to us. I think they had been given assignments by their teachers to find an English speaking tourist and interview them. So we were interviewed about 45 times and had countless pictures snapped of us like we were being followed by the paparazzi. They were adorable. They especially loved Niki because she is pretty, has gorgeous blondish hair and she's almost 6 feet tall--so she was super intriguing to them.
It's difficult to take pictures out of moving vehicles and get the shot you want, but this was a picture of the countryside rice patties with local workers planting. In the background you can see Mt. Merapi, which is a very active volcano. In fact, some may remember that it erupted in 2010, leaving hundreds of people dead in the surrounding areas. In 2006, there was a giant earthquake in Yogyakarta that killed thousands of people and left Pramaban severely damaged. The giant tsunami was in 2004 on a different island in Indonesia, but still, I have to admit with the natural disaster track record there, I am a little concerned God is trying to wipe it off the planet. I guess it's a good thing I got a visit in before that happens.
Our last stop on our tour was Pramaban, which we had seen briefly in the night on our first day in Yogyakarta. It was beautiful, but I think a little anticlimactic after having just toured Angkor Wat in December.
The view from Pramaban of Mt. Merapi
The last evening was dedicated to finding our perfect souvenirs. Niki and Shirley went off together (at my insisting) to do more Batik shopping at Marliboro market. I knew exactly what I wanted and it was just down the road from our hotel. So alone in the dark, being followed by several very persistent Indonesian men (trying to either get me into their stores or into their bicycle cabs), I walked through the streets back to a little antique shop I had found the day before. I purchased several very cool Indonesian antiques that I will post separately. I knew the other girls were going to be shopping for quite some time, so I decided to hit the local massage center for two hours of reflexology and Javanese massage. Talk about an awesome way to end a day of touring. Especially because all two hours of pampering only cost me $18. I know. It's criminal--and so freaking awesome.
Our last stop on our tour was Pramaban, which we had seen briefly in the night on our first day in Yogyakarta. It was beautiful, but I think a little anticlimactic after having just toured Angkor Wat in December.
The view from Pramaban of Mt. Merapi
The last evening was dedicated to finding our perfect souvenirs. Niki and Shirley went off together (at my insisting) to do more Batik shopping at Marliboro market. I knew exactly what I wanted and it was just down the road from our hotel. So alone in the dark, being followed by several very persistent Indonesian men (trying to either get me into their stores or into their bicycle cabs), I walked through the streets back to a little antique shop I had found the day before. I purchased several very cool Indonesian antiques that I will post separately. I knew the other girls were going to be shopping for quite some time, so I decided to hit the local massage center for two hours of reflexology and Javanese massage. Talk about an awesome way to end a day of touring. Especially because all two hours of pampering only cost me $18. I know. It's criminal--and so freaking awesome.The next morning we took a return flight to Jakarta and stayed in a travel hotel right near the airport. We had most of the day left to do stuff, but we were pretty burnt out on sight-seeing. We decided to enjoy the perks of the lovely hotel we were staying in. We went for 90 minute massages at the hotel spa. But that was an adventure in and of itself (I swear I have the best massage stories to tell!).
So we went into the locker room and we were told to strip down to nadda and put on a tiny little kimono and slippers. The receptionist led us out of the dressing room around the corner into what we thought would be the massage rooms. But no, it was the billiards room with several men playing pool and smoking. We were told to sit and wait until we were called. We sat very still, arms crossed over our chests and our legs tightly fused together. My word, it was drafty in that room :). Finally, after several awkward moments, we were summoned and taken back out of the billiards room to another hallway where we were greeted by our masseuses. They were oddly reminiscent of of my Vietnamese massuese in their tiny tight skirts and heels. I think it actually was ONE of THOSE places (if that type of "ending" was requested), but fortunately, the massage was a little less violent than Vietnam.
I went into a private room with my masseuse and she pointed to a giant fungus sore on the back of her leg, which looked like it was spreading all over. She said as she pointed, "This okay? This okay with you?" I was a little dumbfounded. "Uhhh, what is it?" I said nervously. She didn't know enough English to know how to answer me. I tried again, "Is it contagious?" Like she would know that word, haha. I resorted to gesturing with wild pointing from her leg to my leg, "Will . . . I. . . get. . . that . . . from . . . you?" She looked terrified that she might have just gotten a crazy client and her life might be in jeopardy. She shook her head, "No, no, no." I really don't think she knew what I was asking. I sighed, and thought to myself, "Luckily I have a doctor husband who can hook me up with meds if I come home with leprosy." I shrugged and layed down on the floor (that's the way this place was set up) for my massage.
This little Indonesian girl gave my entire massage with one hand as she sang along loudly to Indonesian pop music playing on the speakers. For all I know (I was face down), she could have been back there dancing at the same time. Suddenly, in the middle of the massage she stopped and said, "I need bathroom." Uhhhh, okay. She was gone for almost 15 minutes. Wierd!!! When she came back she told me to flip over and she asked, "What you want massaged?" as she pointed to my chest. Normally, I would have been shocked that she even needed to ask, but when I got my Korean massage for my birthday the masseuse had NOT asked and had given me a whole frontal chest massage. I thought I best clarify. I pointed to my stomach and the area right around my shoulders, "This okay." I said, "Not here, please, I'm not really comfortable with that" (indicating my breasts)." She crinkled her face in that lost in translation confusion and I quipped, "Nevermind, just don't do right there, it won't be exciting for anyone." I think I scared her because she finished giving me a massage 15 minutes earlier than the other two and told me to get in the shower. I think she intended to stay in while I showered because she paused and I had to push her out of the room and lock the door behind her so she wouldn't come back in. Craziness!!! Of course, she probably thought the same thing about me, "Crazy American woman!"
We finished off the evening by swimming in the hot tubs and ice tubs as well as in the regular pool, followed by dinner and laughter for about an hour and a half. This was one of the most fun moments of the trip. It is very challenging traveling with women--for me anyway. I learned a great deal about myself and discovered more rough edges that I need to chip off. I will probably never do this again, but it was a great experience overall. Perhaps, that will be the topic for another post.
After two long flights and four hours of driving from Seoul airport back to Daegu, I was welcomed home at 4 am by my wonderful husband who was so anxious for me to get home, he had hardly slept in over a week. It was a fantastic break and I LOVE Indonesia--but it was great to be back home with my favorite person in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment