after the complicated landing process - a tiny airport stuffed with passengers, half of them trying to get a temporary visa, going through security and customs, getting their bags, and figuring out the best way to grab a taxi without getting screwed - i took a taxi to my guesthouse, technically a homestay this time due to zoning regulations (with curfew and everything), green garden b & b (★★★, this place was owned by a danish family but was left in the care of their 20 something daughter and a live-in crew of locals. i'm not sure if it happened before or after mom and dad left, but at some point she hooked up with one of the live-in locals and now they kind of run the place together. there was something kind of sleezy about it - perhaps it was them charging crazy high prices for guided tours or the guy trying to gamble on pool games - but on the whole they were pretty nice and helpful. the house itself was great with spacious rooms and private decks, a cozy outdoor garden, tucked back in a quiet gated neighborhood. the main downside was its location. it was a little ways away from everything which kind of killed my walking around habits). yogyakarta, pronounced 'jogjakarta' somehow, is significantly less clean than singapore. there are virtually no sidewalks and every available space on the road is occupied by a motorbike. its a terrifying pedestrian deathtrap. and this is the cultural center of java...i can't imagine what jakarta must have been like. in fact, it isn't until you get out of town a bit that the culture part really becomes evident, but i'll get to that later. first, the city.
the main area as far as tourism is concerned in yogya proper is a street called malioboro which is absolutely covered with people trying to sell you things. in fact, indonesia in general is covered with people trying to sell you things, which is both regrettable and annoying. even when it seems someone is being friendly it's usually just a introduction into a sales pitch. but then tourism is a major part of their economy and i am one of they so i guess it just goes with the territory. anyways, the main item of sale on malioboro are batik prints. you got your batik shirts, your batik sarongs, your batik paintings, your batik backpacks, your batik table spreads, your batik pillow cases, your batik dresses and so on and so forth. and the problem is that its hard to tell what kind of quality you're buying. everyone warns you about how most batiks are factory made and you need to find the real-deal, and then they'll offer to show your their collection of batiks which are available for purchase. at some point you just throw your hands up in the air and decide that nobody back home will no the difference either so whats the difference.
after making a few, cheap purchases - including some java chocolate and some, no doubt factory made, batik scarf - i headed back to the guesthouse to get some dinner. back at the guesthouse i met a british guy named will who had arrived from bali where a non-profit he worked for was doing some business. he was taking a few days vacation before returning to the cold harsh realities of...papua new guinea. i had bought some beer so we shared a couple of bottles and he told me about his fear of rabies and, a relative concern, the rabid dog problem on bali. before this conversation i had never considered the horrifying reality of rabies and after i'm not sure i'll ever be able to approach an unfamiliar dog the same way again. fortuantely i did not let this news ruin my later stay in bali but it certainly kept me on my toes. will had spent the last couple of days doing all the things in yogya i had already planned on doing the following days, so i took full advantage of his knowledge on where and what to do.
the next day, per will's instructions, i hopped on a bus for borobudur. borobudur is a buddhist temple from the 9th century, a tiered pyramid type structure with a central dome on top surrounded by 72 buddha statues. it is, no doubt, why yogyakarta is such a popular travel destination. i didn't even leave the bus before i was hounded by a becak driver, a rickshaw type service, and i agreed to be pedaled around to the various temples in the area for a grand fee of about $10. the first two temples, mendut and pawon were little pit stops not especially worth the visit aside from a nice banyan tree that added to mendut's landscaping. after these two it was already lunchtime and i felt pretty bad about the blazing heat and the obviously fatigued becak driver so i treated us both to lunch. he chose the restaurant, a pretty touristy buffet style place - i'm not sure if this was for my benefit for his but either way it wasn't bad and it helped ease my white guilt. after lunch we went to the main attraction, borobudur itself. i spent about 3 times as long wandering its grounds - there's a particular way you must scale its levels, walking around each tier's perimeter before ascending to the next. getting out of the temple grounds was also a complex ordeal, forcing you to navigate a quarter-mile maze/shanty town of shops before reaching the true exit. i returned to the b & b around evening and had dinner and some drinks with will and a new british guy who had arrived just that night, tim. the topic of conversation that night focused on fear of the seas and predatory habits of sharks. the british are a fearful people.
the third day in yogya, a record, i started off by going to the sultan's palace, the kratan, which was considerably more boring than how it sounds. it features a nice open air pavilion and some ornate detailing, a little bit of history, but nothing special when compared to the day before. after the sultan's digs i walked over to the water castle, the sultan's aquatic play place, which had been mostly destroyed in an earthquake in the late 1800's but was partially rebuilt in the 1970's. shortly after walking in i was greeted by a man who claimed to play in the traditional band that puts on shows in the kratan. he didn't so much offer to be my guide as just assumed i wanted one and started walking around with me. i wasn't sure what his end game was but i decided i could afford whatever tip he was expecting and, to be honest, the place was hard to navigate so a guide was a welcome change. even though the reconstruction efforts were mostly replacing the original stone with concrete filling, the place still retains some of its former beauty and is far more interesting than the sultan's palace, especially for whats essentially a glorified brothel. the guides end game turned out to be his family, mom and wife, who just so happened to be batik makers and wouldn't you know they lived within the compound of the water castle, and oh look, here we are why don't we just step inside for a bit? after looking through their goods and getting sweet talked a bit (this $10 will last us a week but this batik will last you a lifetime) i ended up with a sarong and was out on my way. i never planned on buying any batiks but somehow that day i ended up buying two more in addition to the water castle one (from a batik school i was told i "just had to visit" and a guy who wanted to "just talk over some tea").
after lunch i found a tour group to book a 2 day tour to bali by way of mt. bromo and then hopped on a bus for prambanan, a hindu temple just outside of town. at prambanan two girls studying history or anthropology or something like that volunteered to be my tour guides (for free! no catch!). they were tiny and funny and didn't understand any of my american sarcasm but i liked them anyway. prambanan is perhaps not as famous or well visited as borobudur, but just as impressive. aside from the main complex there are a smattering of tinier temples, buddhist and hindu, around the site and i rode a small train to visit some of the others, but decided to walk back. at this point in my tale i would once again like to express my distaste for flip flops, a true podialogical horror. well by this time both toes had somewhat healed and i was feeling confident in my walking abilities so they were uncovered, getting some fresh air. and thats when my flip flop turned against me. as in, i was walking and it folded under my foot causing my hold foot to be dragged under, launching me forward and dragging my toe along the ground. my toe which was fleshy and without its toenail to protect it. my toe which was now a bloody pulp. it was one of the grossest things i have ever seen (so i took a picture of it and its down below so be careful). i had some water so i poured it over it to clean it out and searched my belongings for a suitable bandage. unfortunately all i had were batiks...i'm sorry guy who gave me tea and guilted me into buying one of his dumb paintings but i used your batik as a bandage. fortunately a group of tourists, 3 guys around my age, were passing buy and they went and got a tour guide who had a bandage and was able to call for a bike to come pick me up. i more or less had to take the bus ride back into town with a toe that was wrapped in a bloody batik.
i eventually made it back to the homestay. will had left earlier that day so i went and got dinner with tim, the other british guy. we found a street in the southern part of town (we stayed in the north) that was full of backpacker hostels and artsy little cafes and bars. if i had to do it again its the area i would probably choose to stay. after dinner we took back a few beers and drank a bit in the garden and then called it a night. i would finally be leaving yogyakarta the next morning for a quick 2 day tour to witness a volcano sunrise before continuing on to bali.
the garden area at green garden
my room, simple but good size and...
a nice private balcony
a woman showing the batiking process (done with wax and dyes and some special tool that you can barely make out in the photo) - side note: after visiting this place i stopped in a dunkin donuts for a bit. one of my favorite things to do while traveling was to go to a dunkin donuts and see what different kind of donuts they had. they were surprisingly varied from country to country. and yes i am fat.
mendut, near borobudur
three buddhas statues are inside of mendut
pawon
borobudur candi (temple)
these domes are called stupas
there was a lot of reconstruction going on because of damage from the earthquake
at the sultans palace
these guys are guards but im pretty sure they're just ceremonial or something. i like the juxtaposition of the text messaging and the dirk in this belt.
the water castle, this is a mosque on the grounds which was mostly underground
this is the entrance to the sexy pleasure palace part of it
the sultan would go up in the tower and spy down on the women in the pool. he would pick his favorite and they would go "rest" in one of the side chambers. its good to be the king.
where all da women at??
prambanan, noticeably different style than borobudur
shows how the bricks fit together, kind of like legos
there are six main towers, 3 house the main gods - vishnu, brahma, and shiva - and 3 house their steads - which i can't remember but one is an eagle and one might be a cow.
i started getting that glare thing again...i have no idea how i got water on it this time. as you can see it was a clear blue day.
warning: last picture below is of my bloody toe. its mostly just blood where a nail would be but there's some gross bits of skin also. scroll down at your own peril.
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