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Published: February 19th 2013
A perfect holiday allows one to simply do as one pleases. My first day here was one of those days.
I slept in until 9, listening to the sounds of the birds. I enjoyed breakfast on my hotel's veranda and then set out to look for a journal and scarf. I walked down Malioboro Street and saw lots of purses, wallets, shoes, shirts, and skirts I would never wear. Block after block, and nothing I was looking for! Finally, I wandered into a mall and found a stationery store tucked in the back. I found a pretty notebook with a batik cover for about 1 USD which should work fine. After sipping on freshly squeezed orange juice, I failed to find a scarf, or at least one that isn't meant to be a Muslim head covering.
I walked by the Sultan's palace, Kraton, but didn't go in since I was unsure where the entrance was! (It's on the side.) A stranger stopped to talk to me and said it was closed from 1 until 4 because the leader of Malaysia was visiting. This reminded me a lot of the lines I hear in Bangkok about temples being closed, try
this instead. Next thing I knew I was headed towards the student art center. I wouldn't have gone except that a woman in my hotel said she went and it was something I shouldn't miss. And I like batik.
At the center (conveniently closed the next day, they tell me), they showed us how they make batik and how to tell real batik from fake, and even explained why some pieces cost more than others (the skill required). It was pretty interesting and I had no idea there were so many steps for each piece! Around the center were batiks of all shapes, sizes, and colors, ranging in price from quite low to incredibly high. I decided to poke around for the heck of it and eventually did settle on three. One that I fell in love with is blue with green trees and a volcano and birds and reminds me of the scenery from my train ride yesterday. (I couldn't take photos because my train window was too dirty.) In the bargain section I found two more and I bought as a set. They are quite similar to a batik my grandfather brought back from him time in
Asia in the 1930's. I'm hoping the three will match.
I went to the fair in town with a friend and it was nothing to brag about. The rides looked a little rickety for my liking so we tried the haunted house. Except the only thing scary in it was my friend! The whole house consisted of walls and some stairs; nothing jumped out, no scary noises... I guess the suspence for what will attack you causes enough fear. Luckily, my friend jumped out from behind a corner and scared the daylights out of me. Thank goodness, or that would have been 5000 R wasted. (About 50 cents US.)
The next day, Friday, I woke up early and went back to bed. My trip to the temples had gotten mixed up, so I decided to go on Saturday instead. When I got up at 9am, I decided to check out the bird market I keep hearing about. I walked. I shouldn't have. It was much further than I anticipated. I took a triclaw back to the train station (near my hostel) and enjoyed seeing some corners of the city I would likely miss on my own.
Today, Sunday, is my last day in the city. Hard to believe how fast time flies here. I had my fan on a higher setting because of the heat, so when I awoke I thought it was raining and went back to bed. It turns out I missed perfect weather.
I got to the Kraton Complex (the palace) around 10am, later than I wanted to. It's a lovely palace but it would have meant more to me if I was more familiar with their history and if I could have read Indonesian. Few signs were in English. I met some more lovely schoolchildren and we took plenty of photos. My new trick to say I'll only do it if I get a photo too, which seems more than fair. One group of boys I ran into later with a female friend who was quite keen to talk with me:
"Do you like Taylor Swift?" she asked me.
"No, I don't."
Horrified she asked, "Why?"
"I like rock music instead."
"Ohhhh," all the boys said, grinning and giving me the rock and roll sign.
It was interesting that this group wasn't
talking to me for a school project--they didn't take notes--they just wanted to practice talking with a foreigner. We talked for a bit more and went our separate ways. All of them were great.
After the palace self-tour I caught the second half of a dance ballet (traditional dance). There were two dances left and both told stories involving fancy footwork and fighting. The dance is over when one of the dancers loses, either by death or submission.
Next I tried to find the Sutlan's bathing pools and was successful only because I found a random tour group and guide to follow. When you find yourself following a wooden fence on a dirt path, it's probably not the most advised route. I did buy a ticket though, so I didn't really cheat. The pools were lovely and clean, but I don't think anyone swims in them now.
Getting out from the pools was as hard as getting in. There were no exit signs. Just lots and lots of batik shops. I got horribly lost, and hot, and tired. It took me over an hour to get out and in the right direction of the restaurant I wanted,
Avocado and chocolate
My new favorite drink.even after I asked a police officer and a few other people for help. When I stumbled into the restaurant I must have looked like hell because all the women in the travel agency next door (which I thought was the restaurant--it's a joint venture) jumped up and offered me water, chairs, etc. It's amazing how small acts of kindness make a person feel better.
I wisely took a motorized trishaw back to my hostel and enjoyed the ride. I got back just before soaking rains fell for the next few hours. Outside, children ran barefoot, laughing and splashing, some with umbrellas and some without.
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