YOGYAKARTA February 2010
Following a three day briefing in Jakarta we took the train to Yogyakarta, while a pick pocket took my wallet at Gambir station as we were boarding the train.
So deft was the pickpocket that I did not feel a thing until we were 30 km from Jakarta and I ordered a coffee. The only thing I felt was the wrath of Annick who had suggested I place my wallet in her hand bag.
I found the train ride in daylight interesting, the air conditioning was set at freezing 16 degrees,
That’s the price you pay for first class!
In typical Indonesian style the 10 staff in the catering car anticipate your every need. About five minutes into the 8 hour journey. A tray of coffees, teas and water passes through the carriage carried by a beautiful girl; then another tray of biscuits and sweets.
Orders are taken for lunch and you can get a cold beer at any time.
Not one for sitting in my seat for the duration, I followed the staff to the food carriage.
It was like traveling from Norway to the Sahara desert in 30 seconds; out of the icy cold carriage into the heat of the kitchen.
I sat on a box and smoked my pipe along with the staff who were smoking, peeling cucumbers, frying eggs and laughing all the way.
A 9hour shift of the train is not hard for the workers, while they may not get paid very much the work is not hard and they have fun with their mates.
The scenery from the train window of endless rice fields is a patchwork of green cloth with sections hemmed with beans cross stitched on sticks and banana palms standing like windmills on the horizon.
Arriving in Yogyakarta in the late afternoon we were picked up by staff at the language school and delivered to the various homestays in the vicinity of the language school.
Our working day begins, with the sound of, you guessed it, a rooster letting everyone know who is boss. The crowing cock competes with the local Mullah calling the faithful to prayers.
We do nt begin our language training until 1.00 pm so we have time investigate the town. In reality we are looking for shops and supermarkets that sell beer.
Beer seems to be in short supply, not sold everywhere. It is usually hidden in the back corner of some supermarkets along with the pork. Forget about whisky it is non existent but you can find Smirnoff and lemon for S3.50 a small bottle. Wine is out of the question at A$50 to A$120 a bottle whether it comes from Bordeaux, Berri, Chile or South Africa.
The language training is intensive and by the end of the week we are exhausted, it must be something to do with being old!
Living in a home stay is a bit of a challenge, a single room living out of a suit case following the rules, prayers before our evening meal and so on. The owners are typical international middle class people the same age as us, retired and watching their pennies as the watch TV .
On Friday night we went to Via Via restaurant for the jazz. Via Via is the Mecca for the young expatriate, do gooders and back packers best described as "A congregation of lost souls." These well meaning naïve youngsters all seem to be smokers. The fashion for the women is "butch "style and the men, t shirts, shorts and sneakers with bum fluff beards.
We have been looking for a house to rent but no luck as yet. We saw one yesterday in a complex "European style". Well you could say that but it was more like a bad dream from Disneyland. We looked at an apartment in a multi story block which did not impress me. This rundown, shabby place with pealing paint was more like "suicide hotel for the down and out"
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