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Sunday 30 January 2010 Yogyakarta Indonesia
The equator runs right through Indonesia. It is hot and humid, especially in the rainy season. It was hot during the day in Bogor and Bandung. It was steamy on the train from Bandung to Yogyakarta. The day train sounded much better than sitting up all night in the night train.We bought an executive class ticket for the 8 hour trip mistakenly thinking that meant AC in the train. It did not. There were ceiling fans but they were not turned on for the first several hours. Just the top quarter of the window opened, not enough to keep a good cool breeze directed on us. The coolest part of the car was near the open doors connecting two cars and that was only available when we stopped at a station. Each time the train stopped vendors would get on offering all manner of food and drink. Ray bought snacks and even a Nasi Goreng (fried rice) but I lost my appetite with the heat. At least the scenery was beautiful and our coach mates were pleasant to talk to. The lush, green rice fields stretched on either side of the train to ridges of mountains, several with cone-shaped volcanic tops. So we made the best of it, slept, read and finally arrived in Yogyakarta, limp and tired, late Saturday afternoon.
That was the bad part of the day. The good part started when they had a room available at the newly built Losman (guesthouse) Setia Kawan, down an alley just a short distance from the train station. It even had a hot water shower and AC. It was one of the best places we have stayed in so far. We plan to stay put for several days and just enjoy the city.
Yogyakarta is the only province in Indonesia that is still ruled by a precolonial sultan and Yogya (pronounced Jogja) is the cultural center of Indonesia and the capital of the province. There are gamelan orchestras to hear, classical dance to see and batik, and batik and more batik.
Every Sunday there is a performance of Classical Dance, accompanied by a gamelan orchestra, at the Kraton, the home of the Sultan of Yogyakarta. The Sultan still lives in part of the palace compound but we didn't see him. The performance took place in the Golden Pavilion, a part of the palace with several small museums with photos and riches of Sultans past and present as well as open air pavilions. We were early for the performance. We found a good seat and spent our time chatting to some of the college age students who had come to speak to foreigners and practise their English. This is a required activity for some of their courses. To prove they had spoken to English speakers, they all have a camera to photograph themselves with the foreigner. We posed, then took a photo of them as payment.
About 10:45 AM about 20 older men took their places at the gamelan instruments of the stage of a pavilion. Each man wore the traditional Javanese dress of a batik cap, black shirt jacket and batik sarong with a ceremonial Kris dagger on his back, tucked into the waist of the sarong. The group started in with their first number. The gongs gonged, the xylophones rang out and the drums kept beat. Most gamelin is slow and peaceful and may last 15 minutes or more. You don't have to stay seated in your chair, so I got up a few times to take photos of the orchestra from several vantage points around the pavilion. The singers, two women and three men, took their places in front of the orchestra and added their voices to the music. Four women, dressed in traditional court dancer costumes, slowly entered the platform in front of the orchestra. Their movements were deliberate and highly stylized. The position of their hands and feet is full of meaning, as is the position of their head and arms. They danced to the accompanyment of the orchestra for an extended time. The last number was performed by a man and women. The dance saeemed to depict a traditional epic poem that included a dagger fight at its conclusion. The performance lasted more than 1 1/2 hours. It was a treat to see.
It was lunch time by the time the performance ended. We found a small restaurant frequented by locals a few blocks away. The selection of found was different than the Nasi Goreng we usually eat. A variety of rice noodle dumplings were displayed buffet style in front of the restaurant. We selected stuffed tofu, fish, shrimp and vegetables ones. Our choices were steam cooked or deep fried, according to our wishes, cut up and served with a spicy peanut sauce. We lapped it all up.
A man in the restaurant told us this was his family's restaurant. He told us he worked for the city tourist information bureau. He suggested we save our planned trip to the bird market until the next morning when it would be cooler. The birds stop singing if it is too hot. Instead he hailed a pedicab driver and arranged for us to go to a workshop to watch batik processing. For 5000 Rp ($0.50) the driver maneuvered his bicycle through the traffic, pushed up a small hill and delivered us to the shop.
Yogya specializes in batik paintings. This shop gives lessons to aspiring artists and sells their work and that of the teachers. Three other people were seated in the rear of the shop watching a woman use apply a thin line of was from the bowl of a small pipe onto a piece of cotton. The manager explained the process as the woman worked. Colours are applied to the cloth in separate steps, from the darkets colour to the lightest. The woman was covering areas that she did not want coloured by the next dye application. It is an exacting and time consuming process. We couldn't resist buying two of the paintings in the shop. They were not expensive and fold up very compactly in our suitcases. The expensive part will be when we get home and arrange to get them framed!