Stardom, part II

I forgot to mention that I had my movie debut last Thursday. A group of college students were making a movie and brochure to promote tourism at a beach not too far from Yogya, and I got to be the star tourist. They picked me up at my homestay and we drove nearly an hour on motorbikes to the beach. Once there, they described to me the purpose and reasons for the project.
This beach was destroyed in the earthquake and tsunami two years ago and has failed to recover its main income source. The local government is still rebuilding and has already moved homes and businesses further back as well as repaved roads and walkways, but the tourists just aren’t coming. The students spent all summer here studying tourism and trying to find ways to help the village. I tried to ask if they had studied the negative side affects of rampant tourism, particularly on beaches (I was thinking now of my housemate Tomo who’s studying the negative affects of ecotourism in Bali), but that was something the program had failed to mention in the slightest. But, who am I to question the biggest income source of a region, or for that matter, this country.
We spent a couple hours at the beach, mostly eating. I got to splash around in the water, and get my feet wet and sandy. The ocean here is actually far too dangerous for swimming, but, as a tourist, I really enjoyed it. The area is surrounded by jutting mountains and green cliffs, sporting tall trees and the occasional abandoned hotel. Sometime in the next month, I’d like to spend some time there napping and basking in the calm that the ocean always seems to provide. All three of the students had varying opinions on the beach- one of them loved it and has spent much time watching the sun set and rise, another hates the beach claiming it to be just too hot (I couldn’t help wondering how he’d possibly survived 20 years in Indonesia), the third liked it well enough, but none of them had ever been swimming, I’m not even sure if they’d swam in a pool. But I suppose that’s what happens when you grow up next to an ocean whose warm waves are deadly.
On the path leading to the ocean there was an expanse of sand that Latif-one of the students- explained could be found no where else. This particular spot is used once a year, at the end of Ramidan, as a massive prayer site. He says sometimes 200 people are there praying together.
As for the food, on the beach we bought a fruit salad called rujak. It is comprised of papaya, cucumber, unripe mango, pineapple, some type of root, and a fruit that is cousins with the guava. Over all of this was a sauce called samballote made of tamarind and some other things that I’m not quite clear on. It created this mixture of spicy, sweet, sour, bitter, and peppery that was at times delicious and at times undesirable. After this we headed to another beach that I never really saw because we went expressly for a fish restaurant. We had barbeque fish and deep fried shrimp, all of which was delicious. Apparently that beach, though known to be the most dangerous, is a fish market so the fish we ate had been caught that morning. If you’re there when the markets are still open, you can choose your own fish and take it to the restaurant of your choice to be cooked up to your preference. And all for just a couple of dollars.

And we’re all doing Hash in the Mountains.

Last Saturday, Maya and I joined a running group called the Yogyakarta Hash Harriers. Hash, as I’ve come to understand, was first started in the U.K. and is now internationally infamous; wherever there are expats you’ll find some Hashers. Pretty much, it’s a group of people who find trails to run and after the run circle up to chug beverages and sing songs- not too far off from Rugby it would seem. While this particular group used to be comprised of 80% foreigners, 20% locals, it is now reversed-Maya and I and were two of the three foreigners. This weekend we went up to Merapi and ran around 7 km at a leisurely pace. We ran through farms and forest, and even crossed over streams on rocks and bamboo bridges (bridge is really quite generous here). Every weekend there are three courses, and Hash becomes a family event. All the mothers and their kids walk the short course, some of the men do the medium, course, and the older experienced hashers run the long course, which meant Maya and I ran with all the men who debated every turn in the course in Javanese. All in all, it was beautiful and entertaining. I ran by tropical flowers, banana plantations, rice patties, soybean plants, peppers, corn, and a bunch of stuff that I asked the name of but have no idea what it actually was.
After the run, we circled up and chugged iced tea in the middle of the circle (there was some beer as well, but mostly just tea and soda). People were made to drink if they had committed such crimes as being newcomers, visitors, not wearing a hashing shirt (we qualified for all of these) crossing your arms in front of you, not wearing a shirt at all, wearing green or blue shoes, and having a birthday. This weekend there is a normal hash run on Saturday and a super long run on Sunday (20k), I want to make it to one of these but I’m not sure which one.
Sunday, I went to my third Jahtilan. I think I’m starting to recognize dancers. This time, there were only men, but quite a few. It started at noon and ended around 6pm, I arrived around four. Interesting things to note at this Jahtilan: a dancer at one point was brought in on what looked like a slatted coffin. Towards the end fluorescent light tubes were brought out and mostly smashed about, though one dancer insisted on eating a couple. This time, I went with a friend who knew one of the shamans and explained a little more like how the incense lit were a special kind to attract the devil. I’d really like to do some reading on this, but I’m told most of the literature on Jahtilan is written in Javanese and what little else there written is in Indonesian. Hopefully, I’ll keep going and understand a little more everything. Luckily, there’s another next week. As far as I can tell, Jahtilan is unique to Java, though styles vary all over the island. I’m going to try to see as many as I can in this last month here.
Sunday night, I went to my first wayang (puppet) show. This was a traditional version based on the Rumainya. It was held at a community center and had a full gamelan orchestra accompanying the puppeteer. Because this was a traditional wayang performance, it started around ten pm and went on until early in the morning (sometimes as late as five am!). We stayed for about an hour as it’s really rather slow in the beginning- I think in a bit over an hour, three puppet came on and moved their wrists maybe five times. Like most events here, this was all in Javanese. Maybe someday there will be a Wayang on a weekend night and I’ll pack up my coffee and ambition and stay all night.

Hip-Hop, what?

Sunday, August 17 was Independence Day here in the Republic of Indonesia. To celebrate, I headed to Malioboro, one of the main roads in town and also one of the main tourist areas. It’s right near the Palace and so there was a lot going on. Yamaha sponsored a festival where there were several stages and fair booths. There were also a few marching band performances consisting of super coordinated six year olds playing drums and twirling flags. Emma and I wandered around for awhile, enjoying the sight of touristy Indonesians coming together in a way that parallels America’s fourth of July. Neighborhoods had their own celebrations with food and games not so far off from our BBQs. Sunday night we went out to a concert with a pretty famous band from Jakarta. Like most concerts here, there were probably eight or so bands performing, each with very short sets. My favorite was a group called The Risky Summer Bee and the Honey Thief (a lot of bands here have English names). They had some really talented musicians with a blues, jazz, and punk vibe. The headlining band was okay. They didn’t seem to be anything too special, but they did succeed in doing something I hadn’t yet seen here. They got the entire crowd up and dancing, it was great! I’ve been to several concerts here and usually everyone just sits on the ground, occasionally nodding heads along to the beat. But this time, people were jumping around; there was even some crowd surfing.
But Monday night was really different. We headed out to a venue called the Padepokan who was hosting some sort of a Java cultural event. We had seen a flier for a hip-hop concert and headed out. When we got there, we realized we were in for something spectacularly different. Giant human and creature puppets were all over the place-hanging from trees, on top of buildings, and lining the sidewalk. A gamelan orchestra was preparing to play when we arrived. They played in the lower class style which is considerably faster than what I’d heard before which was the upper class style for the Sultan. Jahtilan (trance dance) dancers came on and performed a choreographed and fast paced Jahtilan dance that was not only men and women, but also included children. No one was actually in a trance here, but just demonstrating a Jahtilan style. Next, another style of Jahtilan incorporating masks was performed. This time an older man was really entranced and ended up eating a glass and a vase. After the Jahtilan, the crowd ran to a middle stage where there was a life-size puppet show. Unfortunately, it was all in Javanese, but the puppets were still entertaining. Next, we all moved to a third stage where there was a comedy act (also in Javanese). After that, everyone shuffled to the last stage where there was another music performance this time with electric violin, cello (plucked, no bow), keyboards, percussion, and vocalists. Finally, after all this, the Jogja Hip Hop Foundation came on. Almost immediately, all the families left leaving only the hip-hop fans. The first group rapped about the importance of traditional puppets as life moral lessons for the Javanese. The next groups, though, were much cruder- or so I gathered from their style. Again, it was all in Javanese, so I only understood what was told to me by our Javanese friend. Probably the most surprising, though, was when a dangdung singer came on stage and joined in. Dangdung is an Indonesian pop style that’s pretty racy. She was very scantily clad and danced in a way I never ever thought I would see here. Luckily, she only sang one song and then climbed back off stage. I think a small portion of the audience was as scandalized and surprised as we were; the rest of the crowd went wild. The hip-hop otherwise was pretty great. It was really interesting to see such a mix of the traditional and modern. Several of the hip-hop artists were dressed in batik shirts and using traditional headscarves as mock do-rags. Interestingly enough, the day before I’d seen those head wraps sold on the street and thought they were do-rags marketed towards tourists, only to be corrected by Emma... Just like the puppets, Jahtilan, and Gamelan, the Javanese hip-hop was included and recognized as part of Javanese culture, something to be proud of and to celebrate with on the birthday of the nation.

Change in the Homestay

I've come to realize that my home stay is a business all its own, a hub for foreigners coming from one adventure and quickly moving on to the next. When I moved in there were three of us. Last week, Zara, the Australian, moved out to begin her two year post in Jakarta doing translation work. The day she left an American my age, Heather, moved in for two weeks of language study before heading out to another part of Indonesia where she'll be for one year. The day after another woman, Christie, also an American with the same program as Heather (Volunteers in Asia-VIA) moved in. She'll also be in Aceh, teaching in a high school next door to the University where I'll be teaching. Immediately following Christie, Ernie moved in. Ernie is originally Malaysian, but has been living in Australia for some time now. He's a psychologist and does cross-cultural leadership trainings in various parts of the world. He was here for just one week and left for East Timor this afternoon. Ernie was full of good stories and taught me some about Malaysian history. His family originally comes from Southern India but moved to Malaysia during British rule. Turns out, Ernie knows another Jewish-Muslim pair. Danielle, Jackie, and I aren't the only Jewslims after all. He was as surprised as I was.
Tomo and I seem to be sticking around the longest. We'll both be here till at least the end of September, Tomo may actually be here a month or so longer. Our home stay family has one little boy. It must be really strange for him to live in such a transient home with so many languages and different types of people. He's taken to saying my name while dancing around, so I say his name just the same way and we both end up looking quite silly.
I wonder who will move in next week.

Borobodur

On Tuesday, I went on a surprise field trip to the Buddhist temple Borobodur. I think really it was just a surprise for me anyway as Odette- another student who also lives in Aceh- seemed to know we were both going. The two of us went with a teacher from the language school who acted as our wonderful guide. It was fantastic! Borobodur is the second oldest Buddhist temple in the world (second to the temple in Thailand) and is in the city of Magelang, about an hour outside of Yogya. The drive was beautiful, we drove by rivers, passed the Menara Mountains, and went through spacious fields and landscapes. The temple itself is quite an attraction. The path leading up to it, is sadly reminiscent of a theme park, with overpriced food and souvenirs and people adamantly hawking merchandise. There was a sign in book at the entrance which displayed the wide variety of visitors; just from that day there were people from the Netherlands, U.K., Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Canada (Odette), and America...

Borobodur was built sometime in the 7th century, but by the 8th century the nearby volcano, Merapi, erupted and covered Borobodur in a molten tomb. It wasn't until the 18th century, I think, that a farmer discovered it while trying to till the land. The dutch came in and excavated Borobodur, somehow uncovering and restoring this gigantic marvel. It has since been restored three times. While some of the reliefs are missing, and many of the Buddhas have been decapitated by looters, the stories are still present and the atmosphere is still intensely spiritual. There are several levels to the temple representing the levels of Karma. On the first level there are reliefs depicting the happy version of life where people are treated with equality and kindness juxtaposed with a life of gossip and negative interactions resulting in people with animal-like features. The second level has various Buddha stories and the third level mostly has giant bell-like Buddha housings. Legend says if you can touch the thumb of a Buddha you get to make a wish- most of those thumbs have already been destroyed though, the rest were covered in other tourists.
These pictures are thanks to Odette who luckily had her camera ready. Thanks, Odette!

I should mention that, while we all marveled at the splendor of Borobodur, we were stuck by how little respect it was paid by tourists and guards alike, all of whom sat on statues and carvings and threw trash all around. Odette, who has been to the oldest and most magnificent Buddhist temple in the world, was of the opinion that we should be required to be barefoot. as is the case at the other temple. It reminded me a bit of Yosemite, incredible beauty, somewhat tainted by marketing to the masses.

The Lime Light. And Jamu juice.

Pointing, heckling, adamant staring, frightened or laughing children- all these reactions comprise my new model life. Anywhere we-the foreigners or buleh- go we get all the attention, positive and negative. Yesterday, someone took our picture. We're just strange, that's all there is to it. Emma and I took a walk around and wondered what it'll be like to be back home, average and normal again.

But it's not just our strange colors and sizes, people here are aware of what's going on, or at least the transportation workers certainly are. It takes little more than a flick of the wrist, or even a couple fingers down at your side to pull over a taxi and even the buses. These small and wonderfully cheap public transportation buses pull over wherever you are to pick you up. There are generally two people working at a time- the driver and the money collector/passenger spotter. This guy will get the bus to stop in addition to stopping traffic for you to climb in, if necessary. Pretty amazing, you can also get off wherever you feel like along the route. That's some incredible public transportation.

I never did go on that bike ride - I got sorta sick for the first time, nothing so bad, but enough that I didn't want to be biking. However, Sunday night, we drank Jamu. We took a twenty minute drive to find an 88 year old woman who makes this coveted beverage. Every night at 9 o'clock she sets up in front of a garage: she sits on a bench and in front of her are large bowls of brownish and gray pastes, a bowl of eggs in a variety of colors, a large mixing bowl, a bowl of limes, and two bowls of water with drinking bowls in them. You tell her son what your problems or desires are and he translates into Javanese for her. She then, usually silently, assembles the remedy. A handful here and there, maybe some raw egg, some leaf steeped water, mashes it together, drains it, and there you are. Immediately after drinking it, she hands you a chaser of coconut milk and juice, and there are candies on the table. I got studying/memory Jamu, another person got health Jamu, someone else got Women's Jamu and confidence Jamu. My teachers the next day were impressed and surprised that we'd done this, and one recommended other types of Jamu. All in all, a very interesting experiencing, that I'm hoping to do again soon.

sorry this post is so late in going up, I wrote it awhile ago but was sidetracked in posting!

Week One, check.

One week ago I arrived in Yogya with no language skills and few expectations. Today, well, I can say hello (though still fumbling through which greeting is for which time of day...), recite the numbers, some colors, and an assortment of foods. I can also tell people where I'm from, ask where they're from, and find out first names and telephone numbers. I'm getting there, slowly. Mostly, I'm excited for it to be a month from now and hopefully be able to have basic conversations.
Among the exciting things I've done this week include eating several types of fish, squid, chicken even, tons of different hot sauces, and trying fruit, squash, and melon juices. I also got my favorite pants patched for 50 cents and joined a gym in a fancy hotel (okay, not very exciting, but they do show bad American and Indonesian movies in front of the treadmills). I've learned that in Indonesia, you can have basically anything made and customized. For a going away present, Maya (Shansi fellow in Yogya) had a stamp made with Guy's (the co-fellow who just finished in Yogya and is returning to the US) name is Javanese script with the Shansi logo as well.
We never did make it to the beach, but last night went to a restaurant that has live jazz on Friday nights. The group was pretty great with a bass, clarinet, keyboard, and really amazing singer. This particular restaurant serves a mix of world and Indonesian food, local juices but also a Balinese beer and wine- definitely catering to travelers. There's supposed to be a jazz festival next door tonight and tomorrow and a film festival not too far off. There was an art festival right before I got here. Yogya is quite the lively city. Oh, we also biked by a movie being filmed the other day though we never found out who was making it or what it was about.
Tomorrow we're going on a four hour bicycle trip. Hopefully, I'll get some good photos to add to the meager collection.