Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘jogja’

Yogyakarta Day 1: Wednesday, August 2, 2017

 

Motorized becak

This is the motorized becak driver I rented to get from Malioboro Street back to the Hotel Jambuluwuk. Many becak are essentially backwards tricycles – seats supported by two wheels mounted before a single wheel and seat on which the driver sits and pedals. This one was mounted on a motorcycle frame, which made for a faster ride and some fun video. I would have walked, but I was out of water, overheated, and hungry. It only cost about $5.

After walking along Malioboro Street in Yogyakarta for about an hour, I finally decided that I had seen enough for now and was in need of food. I didn’t feel like walking all the way back to the Hotel Jambuluwuk in this heat and I was out of the bottled water I had been carrying, so I hailed a becak driver. This one had the customer seat mounted on a motorcycle, and we took off after I climbed aboard. I took some fun video of us weaving through the streets. Within a few minutes we were back at the hotel.

I drank some bottled water (I was a bit dehydrated) and ate some snacks I had bought at the Alpha Mart. I laid out the purchases I had made – my new garish multicolored leather hat, my artistic batiks, the wooden bicycle and colorful dress – and took photos of them to send to my wife for approval. I rested for a while, then was ready to head out on my next expedition.

Becak driver

This was my second becak driver, this one on a traditional pedaled frame. He took me from the hotel down to the Kraton, which wound up being closed, then to a restaurant for supper. This is a common way for people to get around here – you see becaks all over the city.

This time I wanted to head to the historic Kraton area of Yogyakarta. I had a map and could have walked, but decided to try a pedicab (becak) instead, since it wasn’t very expensive. It didn’t take long to find one, as they park at most intersections or can be hailed as they peddle past. This driver spoke pretty good English and when I explained where I wanted to go, he said the Karaton was most likely closed by now (it was after 5:00) but he knew a place to get some good batik. Of course he did. Everyone here seems to have their connections.

There are times that I have felt guilty as a “wealthy” and decadent American, for example having poor pedicab drivers drive me around the city. I have to keep thinking that this is a normal and accepted way of getting around here, and that the becak drivers choose this as their livelihood. I don’t try to negotiate them down to prices so low that they can’t make a living; $4 for a ride of about one mile is considered a good fare here and it certainly saves me time and sweat. A good thing for both parties. Having me for a fare is certainly better for them than sitting around with no fare at all. I refuse to feel guilty for helping people make a living.

Keraton

The Karaton or administrative center of Yogyakarta. When the Dutch controlled Indonesia, this was the government center for this part of Java, and is still a center of culture, with dances, wayang puppet shows, and gamelon orchestra performances daily. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, it was closed. I didn’t get the chance to return. My becak driver did take me to a batik store he knew, where I bought two nice scarves.

So I climbed aboard and off we went. The city has fairly flat topography with a dip around the river. He had to work a bit to get us up the hill on the other side. We cut across to the road that parallels Malioboro Street, then headed south to a large grassy area and old white colonial style buildings in the heart of the town. As he said, these buildings (the Karaton or old administrative capital) and the museums nearby were closed. We continued on a couple of blocks, then turned west and went down a more narrow road with batik and clothing shops on both sides. We stopped in front of one he said had a good selection and I went in. The front part of the store had clothing that was a bit beyond my price range, but I found some inexpensive yet beautiful scarves in the back. I bought one for my daughter and one for my sister.

Jogja map-s

A map of Yogyakarta. The map I had from the Hotel Jambuluwuk was better, but still not very detailed. The roads are not this straight, except for Malioboro Street itself. After buying the scarves (yellow circle) my becak driver took me to a restaurant (green circle) on the other side of the Karaton where I ate fried chicken (ayam goreng). I then walked (purple lines) up Jalan A. Yani and Malioboro. I stopped at a Dunkin Donuts across the street, then continued on the west side all the way up past the train tracks before realizing I had gone too far, then doubled back, but still missed my road, went back north again until I finally rented another pedicab at the north end of Malioboro St. I should have marked the location of my hotel on my map before I left (located on this map as the red circle).

My driver was waiting for me as I came out – I suppose having a guaranteed fare was better than looking around for one even if he had to wait for me while I shopped. We pumped up the gentle hill back to the Karaton and I told him all I wanted was to find a place to eat, as I was very hungry by now. My snacks had not kept me going very long. He said he knew a good place, so we circled around the grassy area to the east side. A road led due east away from the Karaton, and in less than a block we stopped at an open-air but covered restaurant similar to others I’ve eaten at here in Indonesia. I insisted to my driver that I was done and wanted to walk back to the hotel from here, so he finally left after I paid him.

Malioboro Street 2

Malioboro Street near the Karaton looking north.

I ordered some Ayam Goreng (fried chicken) as that seemed a safe bet. It was inexpensive and not a large portion, but was the best tasting fried chicken I had in Indonesia. I figured I could find some additional snacks along Malioboro Street.

It was twilight as I left the restaurant (evening comes early in the tropics) and the action on Malioboro Street was just ramping up. There were stalls selling a variety of foods (I never did try the gudeng stew that is a specialty here – I didn’t dare eat from the street vendors selling it) but the food, which was out on display in steaming pots, looked very enticing. Then I saw a sign across the road for Dunkin Donuts, so I stopped in and had two of them. I was now good to go.

Food stall

Food stalls along Malioboro Street near the Karaton.

As it grew darker, I walked down the street, sometimes on the sidewalk, somethings further onto the street past the carriage drivers where there was more room, sometimes I entered the shops or stopped to look at the open stalls. There were a lot of tourists, including Indonesians and Europeans or Australians, and it all had the air of a bazaar or fleamarket. I’m not much into shopping, as I have said before, but this was as much a cultural experience as it was shopping, so I just went with the flow and enjoyed it.

Food stall 2

More food at a buffet restaurant on Malioboro St. We had been warned at the Embassy not to eat food from a street vendor, and I had just eaten fried chicken anyway, which I topped off with two Dunkin Donuts across the street.

I found some very colorful (and cheap) shirts for my two younger sons and a wallet for myself as a Christmas present. I took some photos. I passed a Chinese temple. I came to train tracks and crossed them, and eventually ran out of stores. I hadn’t been paying much attention to where I was, so I finally pulled out my map and realized I had gone too far for my street back to the Hotel Jambuluwuk. I must have missed it in the dark. I walked back across the railroad tracks, but didn’t see the cross street I was looking for and decided maybe I hadn’t gone far enough, so I back stepped again – I finally realized that I didn’t exactly know where the entrance to my road back was. I wasn’t really lost, as I knew I was on Malioboro Street (that was obvious) but it is a long street. And my feet were getting very tired.

Malioboro Street 3

Malioboro Street looking north, just after sunset.

I found a group of becak drivers hanging out at the end of the last stores and asked one for a ride back. He knew where my hotel was (great!) but I didn’t have the right change to pay him, so I gave him a 100,000 rupiah bill that I fished out of the reserve pouch that I have velcroed under my pants on my left calf. He got change with another driver, and gave me back two bills. I thought he had taken his fare out already and had given me one 50,000 and one 5,000 bill (we had negotiated for 45,000 or about $4), but he actually gave me back two 50,000 bills. It was difficult to negotiate since his English was sketchy and my Indonesian is even more limited.

Malioboro at night

Malioboro Street at night.

I got aboard, happy for a chance to sit down. He peddled back the way I had come – I had gone much further than I had thought – and turned onto my road back, which I don’t know if I would have ever recognized in the dark as it isn’t a very wide road. We peddled across the bridge and he pumped me up to the road leading to the hotel (Jalan Gajah Mada). We pulled up to the hotel, and he asked for his money. I thought I had already paid him (that he had taken his pay from my 100,000 bill), so I told him I had already paid. It took the help of the doorman at the hotel for us to communicate and for me to realize the fault was mine. I not only paid the driver my negotiated amount but a good tip besides. He was much happier.

Shopping spree 2b

The results of my second outing to Malioboro Street. I bought two T-shirts for my sons, two scarves, and two printed batik style shirts (very inexpensive). The brown tailed cap is the style of hats in Yogyakarta. The wooden bicycle was purchased earlier in the day, along with the colorful leather hat.

This was the only time in Indonesia where I had major trouble with a language barrier, and it was my own pride as an American that got in the way, making assumptions and being too suspicious of someone. I thought he was trying to rip me off. He wasn’t. I learned to be more careful of my money and to pay attention to the bills more. The 50,000 and 5,000 bills are both blue, so they look similar but are for widely different amounts.

It felt good to get back to my room. I left a message at the front desk to give me a wake-up call for 3:00 in the morning, and ate a few of the snacks I’d brought back from my stop at the Alpha Mart earlier. I had a bottle of red Stroberi Fanta that I drank from and left by my bedside, but I must not have put the lid on all the way. Sometime during the night, I bumped the bottle off the nightstand and a small amount of the red pop spilled onto the carpet. It was to be problem, because by the time I discovered it, I wasn’t able to get the stain out.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Yogyakarta Day 1: Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Malioboro wares

The sidewalk along Malioboro Street. The cars take the center lanes, which are separated from the outer lanes where becak drivers and horse carriages wait for customers. Then at the edge are open air stalls, as you see to the right here, then the main covered sidewalk, then higher cost businesses in the main buildings. For example, Batik Keris is an upscale batik clothing retail store.

On my first afternoon in Yogyakarta, Indonesia I had just finished purchasing some authentic batik art at an artists’ workshop and exhibition just off Malioboro Street. The pieces were removed from their frames and carefully folded. My most important purchases done, I walked back to Malioboro Street and north.

Malioboro Street, or Jalan Malioboro as it is named in Bahasa Indonesia, is something like a long open-air bazaar or shopping mall catering mostly to tourists that runs north of the Kraton, or the old administrative center of the city. Everyone goes here in the evenings, so its a place to see, to shop, to buy, and to be seen.

Malioboro Street has several layers, with becak drivers (pedicabs) and horse carriages waiting for customers, then open-air stalls selling clothing, wood carvings, and everything else you can think of. Then there was the sidewalk, crowded with tourists, and finally the stores inside the buildings themselves.

Malioboro carriage

The horse carriages of Yogyakarta are quite famous, as at the becak drivers (pedicabs). This shows the layout of Malioboro Street: cars and motorized traffic in the middle, horse carriages and becaks in the outer lanes, then open air shops, a sidewalk, and fancier stalls in the buildings. This can be considered as one of the longest open air markets in the world.

I wanted to get some things that would remind me of Yogyakarta but would be for particular people. Mostly I looked at what was available and getting a feel for the prices, so that I could come back later in the evening to buy. I did buy a wooden bicycle that reminded me of the bike I drove for two years in Taiwan as a missionary, except if was lacking the big yellow sign. I’ll have to add that later. It even had the Asian style kick stand that is far superior to American kick stands and the luggage rack at the back. Only the handlebars were different.

I also bought an inexpensive but colorful dress for my wife, but it wound up being too small on top (I really am incompetent at buying women’s clothing and probably shouldn’t try, but I can’t pass up this opportunity).

Batik printed skirts

Colorful skirts in printed batik patterns. Many shops sold dresses like these, or T-shirts, or wooden carvings, or leather work (I bought a new wallet for me), or wood work (I bought a wooden bicycle similar to one I rode in Taiwan as a missionary 36 years ago).

Overall I don’t much like to shop, but here was a cultural opportunity to visit one of the longest open-air markets in the world, get to mingle with other tourists and see the colorful shops and carriages, and get some shopping done as well. I planned on returning to Malioboro Street once I had found some supper.

Read Full Post »

Yogyakarta Day 1: Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Dragon batik-undistort

A Chinese dragon batik to be displayed as art, done by a master.

On my first afternoon in Yogyakarta, Indonesia I walked from the Hotel Jambuluwuk to Malioboro Street. On the way, two people diverted me to a batik exhibition. Although I was a bit suspicious that so many people wanted to help me find the place, I wanted to buy some authentic batik, not just prints. So off I went.

Batik art 4

Traditional Javanese fold art batik, for sale at the batik exhibition.

The batik workshop was just off of a main road that runs perpendicular to Malioboro Street. It is a school for training batik master artists. It takes four years to complete the program. Examples of student and master works were stacked up along the walls and hanging up everywhere, each in a temporary wooden frame labeled with a letter. The price list depended on the letters, and the pieces I really liked were too expensive for me. I knew I would probably spend more here than for all other souvenirs combined elsewhere, but I had found what I was looking for: true artistic batik, not prints. These are not for clothing but to frame and hang up.

Abstract artist

Batik artist showing an example of his work. His designs are abstract and polychromatic. He also explained the process to us.

There were many styles, such as abstract works with mainly blues and purples, loosely drawn images in oranges, reds, and crimsons which I liked a great deal. Some were realistic, some were stylistic. I finally found the cheapest ones in a corner marked “K” and found a particular style of dotted outlines showing images of Buddhas and Ganeshas from Borobudur and Prambanan. There was a small volcano image done by the orange-crimson stylist that I picked out. I was able to put them up against an LED light to see how the light transmitted through the cloth.

Batik art

Stacks of batik art awaiting sale at the “exhibition.” Prices depended on the status of the artist and size of the batik: student works sold for less than masters’ works, and smaller less than larger. You can see the styles of various artists here – the abstract artist of the previous photo on the bottom right, the folk art style at the bottom middle, and so on. I spent quite a bit of time looking for the least expensive yet attractive batiks that also provided a sense of Yogyakarta.

In a side room people were demonstrating how to do batik to the many tourists there. I was the only American, but there were Australians and Europeans from various places watching. A young man was talking about how batik is done while a woman demonstrated the process. I videotaped what he was saying. He was the artist who did the blue-purple abstract works. After he was done, another artist came up for the next group. He was the master who did the free-style red and crimson works, including the volcano I quite liked. I got some good photos and videos here.

Woman with canting 3

A woman demonstrating the process of batik. She is dipping her canting pen into a pot of melted malam, or batik wax, and tracing the wax along drawn lines on the cloth. Some artists pre-draw intricate patterns, others draw freehand. Some paint dye inside the lines, others create a more general dyed pattern with the wax keeping areas white like a blueprint.

I decided, after quite a bit of searching, to buy three of the student projects with the dotted outlines – two Buddhas, one in shades of magenta with a craquelure finish and one in blues. The other was a yellow-green Ganesha. Then I decide to buy the volcano, which I showed to the artist. He confirmed it was one of his, and even posed holding it up – but he insisted on taking it out of its frame and putting the frame around himself, since he was the greatest work of art. Funny guy. Altogether I spent about $70 U.S. for these four pieces. That’s less than $20 each, which is not bad for original batik art. Perhaps if I had time to search I could have found cheaper stuff, but here I had the added value of meeting the artists themselves. Despite the agents pulling us in to this place, I did not feel ripped off or hustled while there. It saved me time and I got to see some truly beautiful pieces, as you can tell from my photos, which really don’t do them very much justice.

Most valuable artist

A piece of batik that I bought, and the artist who created it. This is a painting of Mt. Merapi, near Yogyakarta. He felt that he was an even greater piece of art, which is why he is framing himself. The piece of the dragon and the horses are also his works.

Shopping spree 1

Altogether I bought four pieces of artistic batik, three by a student that had similar designs – two of buddhas from Borobudur and one of a Ganesha from Prambanan. For these pieces, the student used wax dots to follow outlines, but different areas of cloth were also waxed and dyed separately; the outer areas were also crumbled by had to make a craquelure pattern. The Gunung Merapi piece is on the right. My crazy leather hat is in front. I two other items were bought later, as described in my next post.

Batik art 5

This is a nice piece – I like the play of colors, but it was a bit out of my price range.

Batik art 3

A highly ornate piece where the colors are painted between the lines of wax.

Woman with fan-horses batiks

Two different styles of batik: on the left, the design is pre-drawn on cloth and the wax added to the lines, then the areas between are painted in with dyes like a paint-by-numbers picture. On the left, a free-hand design is drawn with wax, then the entire piece colored in one pass. Sometimes a cross between these two methods is used by waxing over large areas and dyeing others, then alternating.

Read Full Post »

Yogyakarta Day 1: Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Approaching Yogya

Approaching Yogyakarta on my flight from Jakarta: August 2, 2017

I’m sitting at Gate 16 in Terminal 3 of the Jakarta airport awaiting Garuda Flight 204 to Yogykarta, or Jogja, as people call it. I’ve been right here before, about 12 days ago, when I flew to Banjarmasin with Craig Hendrick.

Steaming cone

An active volcano in central Java, one of 125 in Indonesia that are part of the Ring of Fire.

I set my alarm for 4:30 this morning, got up and showered, got dressed and finished packing. I decided to leave my black shoes behind, as they are pretty much worn out and I haven’t really been wearing them much on this trip anyway. I spent last evening repacking, putting everything I wouldn’t need over the next five days (including all of the gifts I’ve bought) into my blue IHC bag and TGC bag and keeping my clean clothes and toiletries in the red bag. My intent is to find a storage locker at the airport, as my research says there are, and only taking my camera bag, computer bag, and red bag to Jogja.

Merapi and neighbor

Gunung Merapi (on right) and Gunung Merbabu from the air on my flight to Yogyakarta from Jakarta. Merapi last erupted in 2010, killing over 300 people.

But it didn’t work out that way. I met Nikki Moylan downstairs at 5:30, as we have arranged to share a cab to the airport. We checked out of our rooms, then ate a quick breakfast accompanied by Jennifer. The cab was waiting for us and we had a quick, non-traffic ride to the airport. I was dropped off first at Terminal 3 and got a luggage cart, went through the first security checkpoint, and checked in at the Garuda Economy Class counter. When I asked the agent where the storage lockers were, she told me that they don’t have them in this new terminal, only the old terminals. So much for research. So I had to bring all my bags with me after all and pay at the overweight baggage counter. Again.

Merapi volcanoes

Volcanoes near Yogykarta. In the foreground are Gunung Merapi (bottom left) and Gunung Merbabu. Beyond are Gunung Sumbing and Gunung Sindoro. Yogykarta lies off the image to the left, and Borobudur is in the valley between the two sets of volcanoes. This image was created using data from the USGS Earth Explorer website.

I waited at the same gate (16) that Craig and I waited at on our flight to Banjarmasin. I was writing up this post and was so intent on it that I almost missed the final boarding announcement, so I had to jump up and run through the boarding pass checkpoint at the gate. Once on the airplane I settled back and tried to find something to watch on my hour flight to Jogja.

Merapi and Merbabu

Mt. Merapi and Mt. Merbabu from GoogleEarth.

We took off over rice fields and turned toward the mountains that form the central spine of Java. As we flew along this ridge, the peaks of the volcanoes poked up through the cloud layer. Some had smoke plumes rising from their summits. There are about 125 active volcanoes in Indonesia as part of the Ring of Fire around the rim of the Pacific Ocean. The Philippines Plate is pushing into the Indo-Australian Plate, creating a subduction zone noted for its explosive volcanoes, severe earthquakes, and deadly tsunami. It is an Earth Science teacher’s dream come true to get to see this.

Central Java from air

Central Java from the air

I decided to listen to music from the selection on the in-flight screen, and started listening to the Best of Bad Company album, which rocked me all the way in to Yogyakarta. As we approached and lowed ourselves toward the city, green rice fields, streams, and trees became more obvious with beautiful clouds above and mountain peaks rearing their smoky black crowns.

Over Yogya

Approaching Yogyakarta.

We landed and I deplaned and walked across the tarmac to the Yogyakarta airport terminal, which is quite small for the number of flights it handles. It was crowded inside. I found a luggage cart and waited by the carousel until my bags came through, right after each other. There was a desk to arrange taxis into the city, so I asked them to help and a porter wheeled my bags through the crowds, through an underground walkway, to the curb where he hailed a taxi for me. We loaded up my bags and he drove me into the city to my hotel.

I am staying at the Hotel Jambuluwuk Malioboro, chosen because it has good ratings and is within walking distance (20 minutes or so) of the main shopping center, Malioboro Street. Outside the hotel is a large billboard advertising cigarettes with the required government anti-cigarette campaign on the bottom, which certainly sent mixed messages. But at least the billboard provided a good landmark to find my hotel with.

Yogya airport

The airport in Yogyakarta. It could use an expansion, because it is too small for the number of people traveling through it.

Jambuluwuk lobby

The lobby of the Hotel Jambuluwuk Malioboro, where I stayed for three nights.

I checked in and found my room on the top floor. It is a nice room with a small bathroom but nicely appointed. The carpets are a bit worn, but otherwise nice. I dropped off my bags and unpacked a few items. It requires a keycard in the slot like other hotels here to activate the lights and air conditioning, and I worked out the controls and got the room cooled down. Since it was barely noon and I was hungry, I ventured out to find at least a snack. I asked at the desk how to get to Malioboro Street – they said to go left, then left again at the first intersection and walk along that street until I crossed a river, then beyond to Malioboro. I didn’t take the first left and soon found a Alpha Mart store, where I got some Pulpy juice, a Happy Cow, and some other snacks to tide me over until I could find supper.

Yogya from hotel room

Yogyakarta from my hotel room. I had a good view of the city and could hear muezzins from several mosques at once.

It seems strange to be entirely on my own now, after having been driven and pampered for three weeks. Even with a map of the city from the front desk, I am likely to get lost. But the day was still young and I felt like exploring, so I backtracked, took the correct turn, and continued on until I crossed the river. Noon prayers were being called, so I paused and recorded some video and audio. There weren’t really any good sidewalks to cross the bridge, so I had to dodge around stalls selling red and white bunting that were in the way.

Yogya near river

Crossing a bridge from my hotel to Malioboro Street.

I stopped at a store selling batik and looked at the wares, but didn’t really like anything. I continued on another two blocks and came to Malioboro Street at last – obviously so because of the many shops, horse drawn carriages, becak drivers (pedicabs), and tourists thronging the street. I am not much of a shopper, but decided to try to get everything I needed here if possible in one afternoon and evening.

Ice Durian fruit

A stand selling iced durian fruit. The “ES” is pronounced “ice.” The smell will knock you over . . .

I smelled something unpleasant and discovered I was standing next to a cart selling durian fruit drinks. You can smell it just walking past. As I took a photo of it, a man approached me and asked if I was interested in batik. He said he knew of a place a few blocks further on that was having a batik art exposition and that this was the last day. I was interested; all the batik I saw here was simply printed, not hand drawn, and I wanted to buy some of the real thing. As we were talking, I spotted an unusual hat make of leather dyed many colors – tan, aqua, pink, and black. It actually fitted, so I had to buy it. It was about $8 U.S., or 100,000 rupiah. I put it on and wore it to keep off the hot sun. The man drew me a map, and said it was easy to find.

Atmosfear footwear

I passed this store on my way to Malioboro Street. I rather doubt this brand would catch on in America. I can’t imagine why . . .

As I walked across Malioboro Street and on down the road, a lady approached me and asked where I was going. When I told her I was going to the batik exposition, she said she lived near there and would show me the way. I was getting a bit suspicious of all this unsolicited help, but walked with her anyway. It wasn’t as if she were taking me into some small alley. I realize now that this batik workshop hires people to act as collectors of tourists, funneling them into the store to drum up more business. Pretty smart tactic, and since I wanted to see real batik anyway, it was good for me too. And there was no indication that this was the last day – it seemed to be an ongoing thing.

Little boys on bridge

Young boys in traditional clothing crossing the bridge to Malioboro Street.

I found the workshop and went inside. Since there wasn’t any big sign, it was a good thing they had these agents out scouring the streets for potential customers.

Bridge to Malioboro

Crossing the bridge from the Jambuluk Hotel to Malioboro Street. The air in Yogyakarta was much clearer than Jakarta.

Read Full Post »