An entry in the TFS Travel Journal
We awoke here in Javanese paradise and again marvelled at our surroundings. Our bed is set on an elevated marble platform, with a many-layered recessed ceiling high above. As we walked to breakfast we took in the tranquility of the travertine sandstone walls and walkways, as we gazed up at the rising lush green hillsides all around. For our delicious breakfast we had the banana pancakes with shredded coconut and a local porridge of sweet brown rice with coconut milk, as well as our new favorite - fresh watermelon juice. We then met up with Priyana, our guide for the day, who goes by “Jack”. We boarded the van and set off for Yogyakarta and the Sultan’s Palace.
The drive was lovely — right out of a storybook as we passed through the lushest tropical hillsides with their many terraces of rice paddies. As the soil is fabulously rich due to all the volcanic history here, we went through endless fields and hills on which were growing peanuts, eggplants (looking beautiful as they hung light purple in the sea of green), casava, bamboo, teak, mango, many tropical fruits we’d never even heard of (snake-skin fruit, mangostines), rice, and the ubiquitous towering palm trees. We also passed many bicyclists carrying all sorts of produce in large bamboo and wicker baskets on the backs.
We arrived in town, a large bustling city of 2 million with several universities, and went to the Palace, home to this, the 10th Sultan. Historically, the Sultans here have been deeply revered and elevated to demi-god status after death. As we’d had enough palace touring thus far, we asked for the abridged version and were done within 30 minutes. A nice place, sort of a pavillion with his home, offices, receiving halls, a temple and an outdoor performance space with daily concerts, except for today as it was Friday, the Muslem sabbath (the Sultan, and most Javanese, are Islamic, but theirs is quite different from traditional middle-east practice). We did see the 18 large Indonesian instruments, though. We passed on buying the many bird call whistles and blow guns that were being sold outside and headed out to the royal tombs.
The royal family long ago set aside a small hill to be used for their burials. Now all 9 Sultans, their families and concubines rest there. In order to ascend the steps to the tombs, one must put on the ceremonial long sleeve garment, wrap around a special batik sarong, remove shoes, and wear a special hat; women needed a specially-patterned batik sarong (and not much else) Wendy passed on all that (especially in the mid-day heat and humidity) and opted instead to take many pictures of Milton so attired. When Jack and Milton arrived up top after climbing the hot stone steps barefoot, there were 5 old men (in proper dress, of course) chanting their noontime prayers. With the incense, the tombs (many simple, marble monuments) and the rhythmic chanting, it was spiritual indeed. Jack said “you can say whatever you feel in your heart”, and began quietly chanting with them. As it was coming up to Passover, I said some thanks for the freedom so long ago obtained by our people and, as I’ve always thought of this holiday as the Jewish Thanksgiving, for having the opportunity for us to be here experiencing it all. We then went back down and saw several extended families all decked out, taking pictures and paying their homage. It was nice to see the many generations together in reverence and celebration.
We then set off for the hotel. As we drove, we enjoyed speaking with Jack about the country and his life here. The country (4th largest population in the world) is comprised of over 13,000 islands and 250 separate ethnic peoples. The language is quite simple — for example, there are very few verb tenses and one conveys past or future by using the present tense word followed by “yesterday” or “tomorrow”; to make something plural, one just says the noun twice. Also, here as well as in all of SEAsia that we’ve visited, we noticed that almost everyone is thin. In seeming contrast to this observation, they sure love their rice here, and eat it at 2 or sometimes 3 meals per day.
We stopped at a silver workshop and store, but didn’t really see anything too tempting, despite the usual incessant in-your-face selling technique. As we’d learned that Jack was also a painter, we made a surprise visit to his home, which was about 15 minutes from the hotel. He is Javanese, quite dark skinned and about 5′5″; his wife, Astrid, is Dutch, blonde and about 5′11″. She’s also about 3 months pregnant, and whether to raise the baby in Holland or here is obviously a hot topic of discussion. His artwork was quite special — framed batik paintings of some of the relief carvings from Borobudur temple. We enjoyed meeting and talking with Astrid, and marvelled at living in this climate without air conditioning.
Back at the hotel Wendy was greeted by the house dogs, two chows who were fluffy and friendly. We then took some more pictures of this amazing place; as you approach, and walk through the lobby, Borobudur can be seen on its hilltop in the distance perfectly framed between the large limestone pillars. We then returned to our suite for some room service. We had a delicious meal of gazpacho with garlic pita bread, sauteed vegetables, and noodles with prawns and chicken.
We were then visited by some practitioners of local treatments. Wendy thought she was getting basic reflexology, but ended up with that plus an intense massage session. Milton had a pijat, the traditional Javanese massage. It was a brutally therapeutic session that we wouldn’t recommend for those looking for the light touch, but was definitely worth experiencing. We then treated ourselves to a scrumptuous chocolate truffle cake with a delectable vanilla sauce. As we were getting up before dawn to see the sunrise over Borobudur, we ascended to our platform bed and attempted to fall asleep before 10.