Yogyakarta Indonesia....Seeing the sights meeting the people....
We are in Yogyakarta.
At the traffic light, a transvestite is walking between cars, trying to ignite an interest and a potential customer.
It is a hot day, yet his/ her makeup is still perfect.
She spots my foreign face through the window of the taxi that we've rented for the day,
and his eyes lights up.
He does a dance for me, in his mini skirt.
Pointing to himself, he says he is Madonna.
I give him the thumbs up and say that he looks and dances, better than Madonna. (God will forgive my lie).
His smile gets even bigger.
The traffic light changes to green, and we move another inch towards our destination.
The traffic is horrendous.
The Indonesian cities are dominated by scooters.
They are everywhere and the locals handle them with so much cool and poise.
Behind the scooter driver, there are the calm passengers, who look as if they sit in a coffee shop and not in a smoky traffic jam.... I wonder where they get the patience and the stamina....
Girls ride sideway with their hands folded on their chest, holding on to nothing, as if an abrupt stop, is not even a possibility.
Our destination, are the Borobudur and the Prambanan Temples.
Which are complexes of ancient temples, made from carved stones, built by Buddhist and Hindu artisans, with both traditions influencing the architecture, the sculptures and the carvings.
Some were built as early as the 8th century.
Both are a jaw dropping, amazing, world heritage sites, that have been severely damaged by recent earthquakes.
Still, even with all the piles of stones, waiting for restoration, what is left standing, is a sight to behold.
When I get too tired from walking, I sit in the shade and immediately I am surrounded by eight young girls in school uniforms.
The girls look at me with soft, innocent, eager brown eyes.
"We are in high school. Could we have an interview with you?"
They look so young,..... so sweet,.... so fresh.... I vaguely remember being so naive and wide eyed like them once....
I am battling a heat stroke, and I am feeling a bit disinterested....
The only thing I am eager for right now, is a dip in a cold pool.
But I am a giver.... Well, only this morning I did something selfless and generous that did not benefit me........
But was done solely for the benefit of another..... (I gave my husband a blow job...)
So I am still feeling charitable....... I give them my best smile and say: "sure!"
They huddle around me with excitement, one girl is holding a tape recorder, and another girl is writing down my answers.
"What is your name? Where do you come from?"
I know that if I'll say America, they will be happy.
Everybody heard of America.... Also "London" is a good answer. (But England is not as well known, and one must never say The United Kingdom... It is unrecognizable as Macedonia, or Moldova. If you come from the UK, and you are traveling in rural Asia, just say London. It is a country onto itself, as far as the world is concerned, just like New York.)
But technically, I came from New Zealand,..... So I say New Zealand.
They exchange confused looks.
One girl says "Oh, Australia!"
They all nod with agreement.... Australia it is!
They write it down.
They continue; "What is your profession? "What is your hobby?"
I contemplate their question.... I wonder if "fucking" can be considered a hobby........
But I look into their warm smiling eyes,.... I give them my own most innocent smile, and I say: "My hobby is diving".
They like my answer and they Ohoooo, all around.
"What is your favorite drink?
Your favorite food?
Where have you visited in Indonesia?
What do you think of Indonesian people?"
I say: "Tea, Nasi (Rice) with vegetables, Jakarta, Yogyakarta and I am going to Bali, Komodo, Flores Islands, Sulawesi,... I LOVE the Indonesian people because they are sweet and friendly."
They love all my answers.
They ask if they can write to me, and would I give them my email?
Could they take a picture with me?
They crowd beside and around me, and their mobile phones are clicking.
Next they thank me and line up orderly, to shake my hand.
I dutifully shake each tiny hand, and give each one a bright smile.... My new pen pals..... Lovely and sweet people live here in Indonesia.
At the traffic light, a transvestite is walking between cars, trying to ignite an interest and a potential customer.
It is a hot day, yet his/ her makeup is still perfect.
She spots my foreign face through the window of the taxi that we've rented for the day,
and his eyes lights up.
He does a dance for me, in his mini skirt.
Pointing to himself, he says he is Madonna.
I give him the thumbs up and say that he looks and dances, better than Madonna. (God will forgive my lie).
His smile gets even bigger.
The traffic light changes to green, and we move another inch towards our destination.
The traffic is horrendous.
The Indonesian cities are dominated by scooters.
They are everywhere and the locals handle them with so much cool and poise.
Behind the scooter driver, there are the calm passengers, who look as if they sit in a coffee shop and not in a smoky traffic jam.... I wonder where they get the patience and the stamina....
Girls ride sideway with their hands folded on their chest, holding on to nothing, as if an abrupt stop, is not even a possibility.
Our destination, are the Borobudur and the Prambanan Temples.
Which are complexes of ancient temples, made from carved stones, built by Buddhist and Hindu artisans, with both traditions influencing the architecture, the sculptures and the carvings.
Some were built as early as the 8th century.
Both are a jaw dropping, amazing, world heritage sites, that have been severely damaged by recent earthquakes.
Still, even with all the piles of stones, waiting for restoration, what is left standing, is a sight to behold.
When I get too tired from walking, I sit in the shade and immediately I am surrounded by eight young girls in school uniforms.
The girls look at me with soft, innocent, eager brown eyes.
"We are in high school. Could we have an interview with you?"
They look so young,..... so sweet,.... so fresh.... I vaguely remember being so naive and wide eyed like them once....
I am battling a heat stroke, and I am feeling a bit disinterested....
The only thing I am eager for right now, is a dip in a cold pool.
But I am a giver.... Well, only this morning I did something selfless and generous that did not benefit me........
But was done solely for the benefit of another..... (I gave my husband a blow job...)
So I am still feeling charitable....... I give them my best smile and say: "sure!"
They huddle around me with excitement, one girl is holding a tape recorder, and another girl is writing down my answers.
"What is your name? Where do you come from?"
I know that if I'll say America, they will be happy.
Everybody heard of America.... Also "London" is a good answer. (But England is not as well known, and one must never say The United Kingdom... It is unrecognizable as Macedonia, or Moldova. If you come from the UK, and you are traveling in rural Asia, just say London. It is a country onto itself, as far as the world is concerned, just like New York.)
But technically, I came from New Zealand,..... So I say New Zealand.
They exchange confused looks.
One girl says "Oh, Australia!"
They all nod with agreement.... Australia it is!
They write it down.
They continue; "What is your profession? "What is your hobby?"
I contemplate their question.... I wonder if "fucking" can be considered a hobby........
But I look into their warm smiling eyes,.... I give them my own most innocent smile, and I say: "My hobby is diving".
They like my answer and they Ohoooo, all around.
"What is your favorite drink?
Your favorite food?
Where have you visited in Indonesia?
What do you think of Indonesian people?"
I say: "Tea, Nasi (Rice) with vegetables, Jakarta, Yogyakarta and I am going to Bali, Komodo, Flores Islands, Sulawesi,... I LOVE the Indonesian people because they are sweet and friendly."
They love all my answers.
They ask if they can write to me, and would I give them my email?
Could they take a picture with me?
They crowd beside and around me, and their mobile phones are clicking.
Next they thank me and line up orderly, to shake my hand.
I dutifully shake each tiny hand, and give each one a bright smile.... My new pen pals..... Lovely and sweet people live here in Indonesia.
