tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86354071431555146622023-11-16T10:23:49.922-08:00In Search of Yogyakarta 2009Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-31220125314380615182009-07-20T23:08:00.001-07:002009-07-22T20:11:47.893-07:00EPILOGUE<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2GvoAkq7BvEfK-xDAPqAtgqNvd8PSsOVMLjstRaZZjWbQAh8sWgnFkAqGYHkxLMoQGLD05OILSc-Ts0GPcXY93EFcz6LW44ODIMs6Ou90qzoncc3n99QFl9N3vEgiZ3TyuufwfBlJgA/s1600-h/Beach_resized.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1gvRGnKR8cebJB1KxKkR64tj-JO8dTRvw3vhfbnKl369OmKqWHwtcOJ2Mu2K1OhUnmt8So6Gvn6NVnESkjo5z0iT8PB9gIN88RVppSe-wwfNVgP-zAoX8J10nubOMjVlk7QILIqgV7w/s1600-h/Beach_resized.JPG"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">By: Dr Yeoh Seng Guan</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">17 July 2009</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This year’s study trip faced a quick succession of issues that threatened to extinguish its annual coming-of-being. The most serious were the global outbreak of the A (H1N1) virus (in early May) and the Indonesian presidential elections (in early July). Both invoked the unsettling specter of chaos and danger, and questioned the wisdom of persevering with the trip. Early on, another worry was the slow uptake of places which I suspect would have been quite different if touristic Bali was the advertised destination instead.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At the end of it all, I believe the remarkably colorful and graceful city of Yogyakarta fulfilled the promise of providing a portal into the multi-textured complexity of Javanese culture and society as evident in the many stories, videos and photos featured in this blog.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If this particular trip has awakened and/or sustained an appreciation of how communities create an array of meanings and relationships in order to live meaningfully for this cohort of travelers, the key motif of these trips has been kept intact.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As in previous years, a venture of this nature would not be possible without the goodwill and help of a number of key people. Firstly, my appreciation goes to Dr Aris Arif Mundayat, the Director of Pusat Studi Sosial Asia Tenggara, Universitas Gadjah Mada, for readily agreeing to be the host institution and for providing various leads. Grateful thanks are also due to the many individuals, civil society groups, and </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">kampong</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> (village) residents for their generous sharing of knowledge and experiences. Without the graceful and tireless assistance of our student guides from Universitas Gadjah Mada in so many areas – Nana, Ike, Adi, Ambar and Arum </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- this trip would have been clueless. Lastly, a special word of gratitude goes to Nurina Malinda and her sister Diah Martengsari for all the months of background logistical support. Nurina is a veteran traveler of the study trips to the Philippines (2007) and Cambodia (2008), and her enthusiasm for this particular trip to her home city was infectious.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is the fifth year in which the “In Search of” study trips have unfolded in the diverse human settlements of Southeast Asia – Penang (Malaysia), Bangkok (Thailand), Baguio & Sagada (Philippines), and Siem Reap (Cambodia). In comparative terms, this year’s cohort of enthusiastic and capable student travelers hailing from different countries is the most extensive – Australia, China, India, Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore. Admittedly, at times this proved to be a formidable multicultural challenge requiring patience and forbearance for all concerned. But I am also happy to report that they rose up well to the occasion. The sight of young men and women from different cultural backgrounds striving together to successfully tackle a common task placed at their feet despite all the odds gives one cause for hopeful optimism. For the first time, this year also saw the participation of two alumni and former travelers, Aron and Eunice, and their presence enlivened the motto of Monash University, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ancora imparo</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> – “I am still learning”.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia;color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2GvoAkq7BvEfK-xDAPqAtgqNvd8PSsOVMLjstRaZZjWbQAh8sWgnFkAqGYHkxLMoQGLD05OILSc-Ts0GPcXY93EFcz6LW44ODIMs6Ou90qzoncc3n99QFl9N3vEgiZ3TyuufwfBlJgA/s1600-h/Beach_resized.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2GvoAkq7BvEfK-xDAPqAtgqNvd8PSsOVMLjstRaZZjWbQAh8sWgnFkAqGYHkxLMoQGLD05OILSc-Ts0GPcXY93EFcz6LW44ODIMs6Ou90qzoncc3n99QFl9N3vEgiZ3TyuufwfBlJgA/s400/Beach_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361486156993656610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 258px; " /></a><i>These memories of Yogyakarta will live on</i></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Dr Yeoh Seng Guan has been scheming study trips for students of Monash University’s School of Arts and Social Sciences since 2004. In his free time, he continues to research, film, and write on urban </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">subalterns in Southeast Asia.</span></span></span></p></span>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-52322085033753023012009-07-20T22:50:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:04:11.586-07:00Accommodating the Accommodation<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOf-OzImQR-gNqY8GK8K1VxPmimNPXS2ImTGS8-QAvajTFM78rctvaOot6ax1EnLQAtoMaaR0AaBzOKPs9HWa8fqo9e0YZxXHbOeUsiCKBZ_L69YvTzehurN0xhZQM17T5-zRZeUslz0/s1600-h/Puspho_Nugroho_resized.JPG"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">By: Eunice Phang Poh Ee</span></span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><p align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">17 July 2009</span></span></p><p><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0915465/" target="_blank"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kevin Copeland</span></span></span></a><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: I'm gonna have a BF!<br /></span></span></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005541/" target="_blank"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Marcus Copeland</span></span></span></a><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: Oh, my God, she's gonna have a b*tch fit!<br />Hotel clerk: No, don't d-d-d-don't have a, a, a BF now.<br /></span></span></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0915465/" target="_blank"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kevin Copeland</span></span></span></a><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: I wanna speak to your supervisor! Better yet, I'm gonna write a letter!<br /></span></span></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005541/" target="_blank"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Marcus Copeland</span></span></span></a><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: You, are in big, trouble!<br /></span></span></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0915465/" target="_blank"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kevin Copeland</span></span></span></a><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: Dear Mister Royal Hampton. I am a white woman, in America….</span></span></span></p><p><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(A scene where Kevin appropriated the “power and superiority” by disguising as a white woman and make demands he never enjoyed as a black man. )</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The movie </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">White Chicks</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> crossed my mind the moment I stepped into our hotel. This is no Royal Hampton. It’s </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">THE</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Hotel Puspo Nugroho. The hotel that was so unbearable that it gave the fellow pathfinders a sense of togetherness. For once, there’s something that everyone agreed upon, the accommodation could have been better…..WAYYYY better. Maybe this is Dr Yeoh’s little trick to make us bond.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">So how should I start describing Puspo Nugroho, I guess the fact that I have no pictures of that place to show in this article meant a lot – staying there are not memories I’d want to keep. The smell of the dingy room, the cockroaches that lurk in the toilet, the grimes that stained the sink and the blanket that we used oh-so-reluctantly are just traumatic to us city kids. Nonetheless, we survived without a scratch, just a few miserable nights and the lust for our sweet, sweet bed at home.</span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOf-OzImQR-gNqY8GK8K1VxPmimNPXS2ImTGS8-QAvajTFM78rctvaOot6ax1EnLQAtoMaaR0AaBzOKPs9HWa8fqo9e0YZxXHbOeUsiCKBZ_L69YvTzehurN0xhZQM17T5-zRZeUslz0/s400/Puspho_Nugroho_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361485630074361506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Puspo Nugroho halls</i></div></span></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In fact, the hotel WAS supposed to be way better but things just did not go according to Dr Yeoh’s plan. Following him and Aron one night through the streets of Losmen and Sosrowijaya, I found paradise. There’s a reason for Dr Yeoh’s eagerness to show us the hotel we were supposed to stay in – </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Setia Kawan</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, an artsy-fartsy place perfect for us artsy-fartsy arts students. As he skillfully led us through the alleys which he knows like the back of his hand (from all the hotel scouting), he explained why we were stuck in the dingy hotel instead of THIS. Ta-da!</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzIWnfEYn0NNsfuzc-nbk0cf9J-Hu5RUD4E20cNbKRC0U8uYxD3zvAsI65HKxvabnHxNxunuyJ6kaChq7dYVECC16qokQmJneGyvr1CaOmrsjeyjGDfh_UROxR6ePnYR251cLb-TcpMw/s320/3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360790227230431186" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Py5_SQAnphAFSKx5xWP7J9xG6NCzdKM6XsvvUQK5RwDclL4Fm1HKGK1Hy5SruCa1cpprFfMuRTYlV9brFwv_FSTyGv1KL-dUgecLZ_LajJ3D7376NLCrFIZv2HmDe-FhLLtXd7WfEds/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Py5_SQAnphAFSKx5xWP7J9xG6NCzdKM6XsvvUQK5RwDclL4Fm1HKGK1Hy5SruCa1cpprFfMuRTYlV9brFwv_FSTyGv1KL-dUgecLZ_LajJ3D7376NLCrFIZv2HmDe-FhLLtXd7WfEds/s320/5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360790243102580514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px; " /></a><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAYqymOCEqV6d8hkb6KyMMXb6mOtFXVk0n1VNP-czpAqyZk1GKOIBbxhzcf_snsa8PgkHScYoKcmArrhQOZ2DhB7TPm0rBdnv34OJwJuQ3jKG2wXMbNYG9P_Nmw4WEQe8GWEPzQElZTY/s320/4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360790237670923506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2NhyphenhyphenZ7b4mz_Ow8c8y3gONWY-Dlco16l74vqgGHqa_UTs_qCI4_MaVXyRkEwZKdcwRvWt_ipevMlruPjzszv0HuBeygr9iH7TTt5B1uwGAr5ZVBDV2bRE2ylRmWVKUNE2fMS0z3ce0fY/s320/2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360790224016505250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzIWnfEYn0NNsfuzc-nbk0cf9J-Hu5RUD4E20cNbKRC0U8uYxD3zvAsI65HKxvabnHxNxunuyJ6kaChq7dYVECC16qokQmJneGyvr1CaOmrsjeyjGDfh_UROxR6ePnYR251cLb-TcpMw/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdjHNtWqp0wJ-J1jglSrizg65FLyjM81nMXq_VbqYCL65x7u3aKOtttDzQPkeUdut8ClcAojO4SKnUsH97VQgmE4IJmdYhAxlxvegWNmcLJfmdXXc-hYtoL1T3V8Lok-K5QVI87C8xKU/s320/1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360790220005528802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">multiple views inside Setia Kawan losmen, all retrieved from google</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">The room rates began at Rp.80,000 per night, the environment was fabulous and there were Internet services near the lobby, perfect for the editorial team. To top it all off, the rooms were air-conditioned (not as environmentally friendly like Puspo).</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then we stopped by </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Bladok</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> , equally posh with a private swimming pool and a tad higher price. </span></span></span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And why you wonder did we not get a chance to stay at these places? One common thing, the place is flooded with White chicks and dudes only. Aaah, this is the perfect case study for post-colonialism and white supremacy. The hotel owners (colonized locals) still hold on to the perception that the Whites (Western colonizers) are of superior status and class, more affluent and the mere association of their hotels being the Whites’ preferred choice is a status symbol of quality and prestige. As Dr Yeoh mentioned, if only he had known earlier that there are 3 Australian students on board this trip, he would have used them to bait the hotel owners to take us in as “international” tourists instead of a bunch of students from Malaysia. It’s not being manipulative but just framing the truth to suit the local context, let no one take this to heart.</span></span></span></span></span></i></div></span><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Despite their long winded reasons for not accommodating us, Dr Yeoh persisted with letters, showing the previous works and blogs as well as the association to the “prestigious” Monash University in Australia. Alas, the hotel owners stood strong on reserving their rooms for “the others”. Tough luck for the non- whites. (Note they do not discriminate Asians and if you come in a small group of 2-4 they would definitely welcome you. It’s just that there are “special priorities”).</span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hence, that explains the story of our miserable stay in Puspo Nugroho, the last resort, literally. Nevertheless, these days should end as postmodernism rise where race and nationalities shall inhibit no more.</span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Okay, enough of whining about the hotels. Puspo Nugroho is not that bad after all, they have a very nice member of staff and that is the key factor that gave us fellow pathfinders a common hate subject, excuse me, a common ground. And no, none of us threw a fit but did our best to accommodate and survive the place as well as we can….just like any well-mannered kid would. We survived because we are Monash material. </span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Eunice graduated from Monash two years ago and is now working for </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">L'Orea</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">l</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> as a management trainee for </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Shu Uemura</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. She enjoys hiking and is one of the most enthusiastic for hiking Mount Merapi, but changed her mind after realizing that hiking there would require much preparations. </span></span></p></span>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-77612750006722478182009-07-17T00:18:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:26:19.975-07:00Editor-in-Chief Closing Entry<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br />By: Siti Nur Farhanah<br /><br />17 July 2009 <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Visits to 'DD Net', the cybercafe that is a short walk away from our hotel, Hotel Puspo Nugroho, has been a routine activity of all the travelers present on this trip. Of course, this was facilitated by the fact that each traveler had receive a certain amount of allowance fund our trips to the cybercafe. Ensuring that the blog was kept updated became the responsibility not only of the editorial team but involved the active participation of every traveler as well. Where one might expect lots of dramatic inquisitions as 19 different individuals, including our pathfinder, Dr Yeoh Seng Guan and chaperon, Melanie Chalil, set out in a foreign land, it is safe to say that quite the reverse happened. Quoting from the words of fellow editor, Rachel Lai, “You don't even have to bug people to get their work done”. The responsible and self-motivated nature of the team on this study trip has certainly made the lives of the editorial board members much easier. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Prior to the trip, a schedule of deadlines had been drawn up for fellow travelers and it is certainly a relief to see that minimal changes needed to be made to this schedule once we were at our destination to maintain the up keeping of the blog. Also, there were several travelers who contributed additional articles on top of the topics that they have been assigned to in the trip. It was just great to see so much enthusiasm and responsibility exercised by the fellow travelers. Travelers adhered to the editorial guidelines provided and obeyed the instructions and tasks meted out by the editorial team. To keep readers on par with the activities that the travelers were involved whilst in Yogyakarta, Kemi and Paulista ensured that the 'Twitter' section of our blog was constantly updated, informing readers about our current whereabouts.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aHNjwt9n-imSOvcYuDX2ovSpa-8BaFHoWHupf9nIqaFvZZ70CcKpNItCcrvCeKsSa5-31f3moRJAgQ65x4r53mJjfIoq_oonwGu14f8-z-s3hxbHc33bAfnoqWyGtNcHjlpPii9CGj8/s1600-h/Twitter_resized.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aHNjwt9n-imSOvcYuDX2ovSpa-8BaFHoWHupf9nIqaFvZZ70CcKpNItCcrvCeKsSa5-31f3moRJAgQ65x4r53mJjfIoq_oonwGu14f8-z-s3hxbHc33bAfnoqWyGtNcHjlpPii9CGj8/s320/Twitter_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361491424824658818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px; " /></a><i></i></p><i><div style="text-align: center; ">twittering our journey</div></i><p></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">According to another fellow editor, Shazwan, it was also interesting to read the various blog articles given the many different styles of writing adopted by the writers. It was a great experience to have read the views of each writer after attending a particular session and how the writers worked closely with the photographers, Dominique and Natasha, to get great shots of certain places, people or activities relevant to their individual topics.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Joanna Molloy, a member of the video team admitted that she has learnt a lot from being a part of this study trip. Despite the long hours of editing that the video team had to endure under the leadership of Jane Barraclough, it was time well-spent. She described their work process as being one that was “intense but fun”, putting together various clips for us to remember this trip by.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Where the process of maintaining the progress of the blog is not one devoid of errors as another fellow editor, Marina Tan mentioned, everyone managed to work together in order to ensure that any difficulties faced would be eliminated quickly. As the editor-in-chief, I would say that feedback from our pathfinder and fellow travelers have been tended to rather promptly. Our blog web mistresses, Kemi and Abeer were quick to attend to any changes that needed to be made to improve the quality of the blog when informed by the editorial team. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The constant communication between all members of the editorial team has helped to facilitate this learning experience in the city of Jogjakarta. The delegation of tasks has helped to ensure that almost every area of the blog is tended to with great effort and attention. We also appreciate the articles contributed by our student guides, Nana, Adi, Ambar, Ike and Arum. Working with a pool of creative and responsible individuals has been a BLAST and certainly a pleasure. I guess it is safe to say that the balance between work and play has been adequately maintained by the entire team of travelers here.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On behalf of all the travelers of this study trip to Yogyakarta, Indonesia, I thank all readers who have been following us on our journey in search of Yogyakarta through the articles. Also, I can't help but stress the integral role each traveler has played in order to ensure that deadlines are met and how much pride they have taken in their work. All in all, the experience of being the editor-in-chief has been filled with great pleasure, anxiety and urgency, putting together schedules and praying that everything gets done on time. It has been fabulous race course filled with memorable moments within and outside of our work stations within the world of our <i>warnet </i><span style="font-style: normal;">(cybercafe)</span> 'DD Net'.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yours truly,</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Editor-In-Chief</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://insearchofyogyakarta.blogspot.com/">insearchofyogyakarta.blogspot.com</a><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">xoxoxo</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Farhanah Bagharib</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Farhanah Bagharib aka Nana is currently doing her Honours in Monash University Malaysia. She graduated the previous year with a degree in Bachelor of Communcations. Nana is a citizen of Singapore with immediate ancestry from Yemen in the state of Hadramawt. Being extremely interested in the workings of the feminist theory, Nana's Honours thesis revolves around the concept of feminism in Iranian cinema. Nana is SUPER picky with food but as long as there's fast food, she's all good. </p></div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-69408908288994160142009-07-17T00:14:00.000-07:002009-07-20T22:31:12.097-07:00The Importance of Numbers - A Reflection of Our Journey in Yogyakarta.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZeLK53_8AAIlIgUFBGCYr9KILEFEZe2QnyVkkpVqH1unbyzETxB727H5UJ-vf_bmmZCh99CdPOIWZJV3KUZJtuWaWj1wug94npHMAEGSPCQQlyehAx5Wnv_gzcnZvQoDk5XYRmVQyvo/s1600-h/DSC04888.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: left;">By Melanie A. Chalil</div><br />17 July 2009<br /><br />It started with 17...<br /><br />My experience here in Yogya centers around numbers, literally. Prior to the trip, my duties involved calling up our 17 wonderful participants (it was then 18) and recording their dates of birth and emergency contacts. When I got here, however, it started with daily head-counts, making sure that no one was left behind for our informative sessions and amazing sightseeing trips. Having participated in last year's study trip to Siem Reap, the group this time had a fair share of relatively new faces and in getting to know the city, I ended up getting to know these individuals.<br /><br />Then plus 5....<br /><br />Our wonderful student guides are more than just guides. I have to say, they became our eyes and ears to exploring this city. Whenever I had a question, one of them were always there to provide an explanation regarding the customs, culture and language of the Javanese people. At<br />tonight's farewell dinner, I realized how much I'm going to miss hearing them sing from across my room. I still remember listening to their voices the first time they practiced – I dropped by their room and said, “You guys can make money out of this”. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Nana, Adi, Arum, Ambar and Ike – <span style="font-style: italic;">Terima kasih</span> for being such great guides and most importantly, friends.<br /><br />When you have too many zeros...<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZeLK53_8AAIlIgUFBGCYr9KILEFEZe2QnyVkkpVqH1unbyzETxB727H5UJ-vf_bmmZCh99CdPOIWZJV3KUZJtuWaWj1wug94npHMAEGSPCQQlyehAx5Wnv_gzcnZvQoDk5XYRmVQyvo/s1600-h/DSC04888.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZeLK53_8AAIlIgUFBGCYr9KILEFEZe2QnyVkkpVqH1unbyzETxB727H5UJ-vf_bmmZCh99CdPOIWZJV3KUZJtuWaWj1wug94npHMAEGSPCQQlyehAx5Wnv_gzcnZvQoDk5XYRmVQyvo/s320/DSC04888.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360780998072480914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;">we've all become millionaires in indonesia!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></i>I'll be the first to admit that I cannot count to save my life. I'm always the last person at the table who offers to count the check simply because I just dislike doing it. I was never a whiz at math in school and safe to say, that was one of the main reasons why I chose to study Arts. I was definitely out of my element on a daily basis whenever I had to count the cash that was given to me. Trust me, it took a really long time (especially the first few days) to get used to what is now the familiar rupiah. During the first few days of counting cash, I thought I was going crazy. All I saw were numbers. I think I even dreamt that I was counting money. So anyways, all this venting has a point to it (I am getting there). The truth is, as much as I disliked doing it, I got used to it. And now, I definitely get what Dr. Yeoh was saying about our accommodation here – making the unfamiliar familiar. So yes, I'm much better at counting money now. Of course, I have my little piece of technology to thank but I definitely get how much work goes into planning for a trip like this just by the amount of zeros I had to count.<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnPQydM92pkLxupzOLvC1hBttFpr50DJT5bN3aJBPm2eF8RBHYaEayOgSlkofUL8XQoWh0FzCWnQilSFgxnCDJaQ3DjGRe7HmJHxvo5ZeIXliO5YhFlaybaVOCjUpOtDdHgKjP9QLDAw/s320/DSC04884.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360780994874436114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><i><div style="text-align: center;">my duty in this trip includes counting, counting and counting money</div></i></div><div><br /></div><div>9 days and 999 statues...<br /><br />The highlight of this trip for me was definitely visiting both Candi Borobudur and Prambanan. I knew very little about these temples and I desperately wanted to know about the history behind its architecture. I loved listening to the legend of Loro Jonggrang because its heartbreakingly beautiful. Also, watching the Ramayana Ballet was a refreshing change from the usual hyper-dramatic/expressive operas I love so dearly. I enjoyed every deliberate movement and although I personally think <span style="font-style: italic;">gamelan</span> music is freaky, it doesn't fail to enchant me.<br /><br />I count myself very lucky to be able to learn so much about this city in such a short span of time. Although we live near a certain tourist infested street called Malioboro, it was the sessions we attended that truly taught me about the people who live here. It is the lives of such individuals that truly inspire us and teach us to not take things for granted.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Melanie is currently writing her Honours thesis on vampire literature<br />and masochism. She is a mixed bag of different cultures and loves writing short stories during her free time. Melanie is also fascinated by ancient monuments and civilization. This is her first time in Indonesia and is hooked on Javanese Lulur.</div></div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-86355327343747353722009-07-16T23:48:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:23:13.914-07:00Diary Entry: Day 9 (Time to Say Goodbye)<div style="text-align: left;">By: Marina Tan</div><br />17 July 2009<br /><br />"We need a holiday to recover from this 'holiday' " was the common phrase uttered by us Monash travellers, a few days after the In Search Of Yogyakarta expedition began. It seems just yesterday when we were at the LCCT, checking in and competing among each other to be the Winner of the Lightest Luggage Competition. The honour went to Miss Ultimate Light Traveler, Joanna Molloy with just 6kg of luggage, while Dr Yeoh was inagurated in the Heaviest Luggage Owner Hall of Shame with 20kg of luggage. To be fair, Dr Yeoh did have to bring along the camera equipment and appreciation souvenirs for our host organisations.<div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkQ07qmsyOyPPwLDZ4PbUOF1nrpOf0h1S4abbN-U9Jxo3rdLPC4vs10B51ue6SMjUF9QjG2JnIPmI-rCd4Qnqwisf8Neu_DjvbkQlG9tei3D08F_ryUd1OdogiHBjWyZB8-RJdXXaF18/s1600-h/Airport_resized.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkQ07qmsyOyPPwLDZ4PbUOF1nrpOf0h1S4abbN-U9Jxo3rdLPC4vs10B51ue6SMjUF9QjG2JnIPmI-rCd4Qnqwisf8Neu_DjvbkQlG9tei3D08F_ryUd1OdogiHBjWyZB8-RJdXXaF18/s320/Airport_resized.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361489283685444434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 320px; " /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;">all the bulky luggage that the travelers brought</div></i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLevX8rYzwPbuJ-_sb4nay0fWbY0JimcpsLBFnkR6LnBLSv0q80ChFUBNfvKzb_Up_HzTYknaL5aTtlW4C5Ubby0NB9TWS2SwsuUaxVLtZYMqdnFTNxvkLFn2rix2QSUDZWRC2cZvspk/s1600-h/AirAsia_resized.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLevX8rYzwPbuJ-_sb4nay0fWbY0JimcpsLBFnkR6LnBLSv0q80ChFUBNfvKzb_Up_HzTYknaL5aTtlW4C5Ubby0NB9TWS2SwsuUaxVLtZYMqdnFTNxvkLFn2rix2QSUDZWRC2cZvspk/s320/AirAsia_resized.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361489271676534466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px; " /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;">boarding airasia to yogyakarta</div></i></div><div><br />But here we are, the final day of the In Search of Yogyakarta Expedition. Nine days together in a strange hotel will inevitably create a bond among us travelers, a strange bond perhaps, which enables us all to chat about everything and nothing under the sun. A few days into the trip, it is no surprise to see groups of people previously unfamiliar to each other in each other's rooms laughing or moaning about the amount of walking done on that day, or to hear snippets of conversations among the Monash travelers in the bus ranging from the academically related 'I'm going to Italy next semester to study' to the completely irreverent 'I seriously need to take a dump right now...but our room toilet is too dodgy...'<br /><br />Other than creating a bond among us Malaysians, Indonesians, Indian, mainland Chinese, Australians and Singaporean Monash students, this trip was invaluable due to the people and organisations we have met. The travelers unanimously agree that it would have been impossible for us to have the sessions with the various organisations such as INSIST and Taring Padi, without Dr Yeoh's wide range of networking. Personally, I found that the sessions deepened my understanding of the topics and theories I learn in the Monash classroom. In Monash University, we learn International Studies theories as merely theories, but in this trip we have met people who live out these theories in their daily lives. Our speaker at Pusat Studi Sosial Asia Tenggara is proudly socialist in leaning, while INSIST showed us the alternatives to the free market capitalist economy. These sessions enabled me to better understand the political theories I have learnt in my INT major, to see the political theories from the ground level.<br /><br />For those whose majors involve journalism, or communications, this trip enabled them to practise the skills they have learnt in the classroom; the blog is a product of fine journalism, Taring Padi and the murals around Yogya shows the influence of the media and the<br />'text' in the political and social context of Yogyakarta, while the nightly video editing must have worked to enhance our video editing skills. Through all this, we also learn to meet deadlines, and that in the real world outside of Monash University our bosses would not accept excuses for missing deadlines. It was a 'deal with it' attitude when bumps appeared along the way to meeting deadlines. And we thought assignments were hard! But you can't keep a good student/alumni/guide/tourist down, and we finished all the required work.<br /><br />Yogyakarta is a very musical and open city, where buskers roam the streets making music and alternative expression is openly aired through street murals and posters found along Malioboro street. We were fortunate enough to have this trip just as the Indonesian election results were announced. The political posters promoting political parties were rampant on the streets, but what was more surprising was the open presence of posters critiquing Indonesian politics or other social issues or posters reminding the politicians that Indonesians deserve more than just lip service. This method of holding the government accountable to their promises and keeping the government on their toes through these posters, is I'm sure good for the Indonesian people and democracy. Perhaps Malaysia could learn a thing or two from Yogya where the artists at Taring Padi had shown us, one does not have to wait to be old or have a political science degree to take an interest in national politics and subsequently try to change the negative aspects of local politics.<br /><br />Nonetheless, the trip was not all work. While it was eye opening to have the sessions with the various organisations, we also had a lot of fun and light hearted moments when we did the touristy thing like visiting the Kraton,Borobudur,and Prambanan, watching the graceful Ramayana Ballet or playing with the children of HUMANA who steamrollers us in basketball. As summed up by Paulista, we students 'realised that we were growing old' when we were all begging for a time out after the basketball session while the kids and Dr Yeoh were still raring for another go.<br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicr8H3sHUlzYxTqrcvS9UFIn2vRv-PCeyOerMFKCOrda5SO_L9vN29l84341fIVvOq_xa6dENHu2HDP1fqZXLYp_kdcB3jvvEGL-QtGyJ-IUpUB6a30WFYp7CzzzftHYuk7GdQxkmQw4Q/s320/Humana_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361489288458104562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Marina moderating for the HUMANA session</i></div><div><br />So this is the closing diary entry after 9 days. After the fantastic farewell dinner yesterday, the performance by both the Monash travelers and the student guides brought tears to some of our eyes at the thought of parting, What have we found In Search of Yogyakarta? We found a vibrant place, where alternative expression was the norm. We found helpful, gentle student guides, always obliging but having their own spark of mischief in teasing us. We found out how fortunate we all were, with our water heaters and air conditioning while the people of Kali Code relied on the river and weather. Now we find it is time to say goodbye.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFK6sDbekj9W_FPN7JGCZ9Y7uWgu8rxAmzkNC3ZMUJhwdoWJOSRf_E9-DfBqXUlm6eLHfLl8YeH6ro9rSHuREqIdjI0YdAQdsVMcBPx4WTLDkAf1BFNTc2wtMJTeJbZNhyQXfdN2KkFEE/s1600-h/TQDinner_a_resized.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhObBTozC2K11aGMpKxS3RricrsxkP5Svvc4-y1-p4S7hIoIkF4T6KxPxq0lsf7UUIrv6aw7yhDlHAo0nXQris_1YgCwiYnt329JBLOAJe2q_MXvo_n5UkLCjFUQVv7CG2eTFfNFdAhU/s1600-h/TQDinner_b_resized.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhObBTozC2K11aGMpKxS3RricrsxkP5Svvc4-y1-p4S7hIoIkF4T6KxPxq0lsf7UUIrv6aw7yhDlHAo0nXQris_1YgCwiYnt329JBLOAJe2q_MXvo_n5UkLCjFUQVv7CG2eTFfNFdAhU/s320/TQDinner_b_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361490294103032882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>the student guides' performance</i></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFK6sDbekj9W_FPN7JGCZ9Y7uWgu8rxAmzkNC3ZMUJhwdoWJOSRf_E9-DfBqXUlm6eLHfLl8YeH6ro9rSHuREqIdjI0YdAQdsVMcBPx4WTLDkAf1BFNTc2wtMJTeJbZNhyQXfdN2KkFEE/s320/TQDinner_a_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361490299274280434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 172px; " /><i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">last night in yogyakarta</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></div></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvd7G09PnC_VqyOu2TcjTRJ7-ypZaKSz1KMJRNdq1-5-vADvszUHGwORbE9JAUbkgsCGULTQpvZDvLO9tdDX0W8DkR4KCzp0DY0opj8duTE8troXZd5QzqfnEhgJSHe-HJ3rLESxRgF0/s320/Abeer_a_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361489265810490050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>abeer couldn't help to shed a few tears</i></div><div><br />As sung by the student guides at the farewell dinner<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mengapa adek menangis aje</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Kalo memang jodo ngga kemana, hei hei</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Until we meet again, hei hei!<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Marina is a final year student at Monash University Malaysia, doing a double in the Bachelor of Arts in Writing and International Studies. Marina is from Malacca and was particularly impressed by INSIST which opened her eyes to the alternatives to capitalist free market. She finds INSIST fascinating as it is a real-life example of the theories she has learnt in her International Studies unit.</div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-46366035596097616152009-07-16T23:43:00.000-07:002009-07-17T00:07:50.642-07:00A glance of Taman SariBy: Ambar Susilowati, Arum Wijayanti, Ike Irawati, Fajar Ahadi and Giartina Sulistyorini<br /><br />17 July 2009<br /><br />Taman Sari water castle is one of the tourist destinations located in Kampung Taman, Kraton District, Yogyakarta. Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono I, who was the first King of Yogyakarta, built it in 1758. This 10-hectare garden was also famously known as Perfume Garden or Fragrant Garden as there were many fragrant flowers grown in it. These flowers made this garden smell good and even more beautiful, but unfortunately those flowers do not exist anymore.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JEMfUysPTml8Jow5pt5X3lHM9sTwx7MSljxL7UjiJDHfzfgNbXYI20WHH7jfDYTgcr_t55_c2AWsZF-Qrmb_W6ifT0uCL3my5XUN9wylochFfg7dy3ZPbbaTpw_Lz_z4_ysU-vmnwqQ/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JEMfUysPTml8Jow5pt5X3lHM9sTwx7MSljxL7UjiJDHfzfgNbXYI20WHH7jfDYTgcr_t55_c2AWsZF-Qrmb_W6ifT0uCL3my5XUN9wylochFfg7dy3ZPbbaTpw_Lz_z4_ysU-vmnwqQ/s400/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359318068759580034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF21SQteBuSPIP6H5SqBhvpUZseW7o69UJD8Df18YdwjxxlY4N1eQxxcJhqGztSMIYomraGAroScnHX1P10rdHLdQL7rOgSMKCE-oZnhIJ-_NLmJlRc-ednJfz5xYdGhddBv5TjLM2JDI/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 80px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF21SQteBuSPIP6H5SqBhvpUZseW7o69UJD8Df18YdwjxxlY4N1eQxxcJhqGztSMIYomraGAroScnHX1P10rdHLdQL7rOgSMKCE-oZnhIJ-_NLmJlRc-ednJfz5xYdGhddBv5TjLM2JDI/s400/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359318078502988354" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d3SKXBEdFN8UrFxU2sc1KPul0FbVb_pAh_NYn8Su8WbRTOJQw6DtPj6cZ3gYYuKqT61gl8uBA_CKS_3ICJ0p7oHA_Licf7UAoz5UJIf55UYN1Nnoih0nv6ufpxNrOVz_cRkyNGhcS58/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d3SKXBEdFN8UrFxU2sc1KPul0FbVb_pAh_NYn8Su8WbRTOJQw6DtPj6cZ3gYYuKqT61gl8uBA_CKS_3ICJ0p7oHA_Licf7UAoz5UJIf55UYN1Nnoih0nv6ufpxNrOVz_cRkyNGhcS58/s400/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359318075064957314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Several shots of multiple areas in Taman Sari</span><br /></div><br />There are two main entrances at Taman Sari, that is Gapuro Agung (in the West part) and Gapuro Panggung (in the East).They are a combination of Hindu, Portuguese, Chinese, and Javanese architectures. Taman Sari used to function as a recreation place for the Sultan’s family, a place for meditation for the Sultan, and also a defense fort to avoid the enemies. After the death of Hamengku Buwono I, Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono II who was the second King of Yogyakarta, used Taman Sari. Sultan Hamengku Bowono I and II are the only kings who used Taman Sari because in 1812 the Merapi Volcano erupted and destroyed it.<br /><br />Officially, Taman Sari consists of three sections: the water castle, the underground mosque and Kenanga Island or Pulo Cemeti. Guides usually start the tour of Taman Sari from the entrance gate and continue to the water castle, then proceed to the underground mosque, and end the tour at Kenanga Island. There are three swimming pools (two for the concubines and one for Sultan), one dressing room and one private room in the water castle. The Sultan’s concubines usually gather at the swimming pool because one lucky concubine would be chosen by Sultan to accompany him swimming in his private swimming pool. The underground mosque is a place where Sultan used to pray and meditate. There is also a secret path as an escape route from the enemies. This mosque used to be surrounded by water and Sultan had to use a canoe to come to this place. The Kenanga Island or Pulo Cemeti is a fort to scout for enemies as it was the highest building in Yogyakarta at that time. This place got its name because at this place there were many kenanga flowers (Canangium Odoratum) which made this place especially fragrant.<br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/WARNET%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><br /> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiximikyjP3qZ6Vw_KzOsQK2WUKG02NDwvG6Gutibgaq9hTovtr27E15fsQ_ZyiGHInU41jyka_nOqAE5MnGk1f9ZAGzmxBKzuUN_HoKAHKBu27urf_Cpfd2ukkp4XsNWYC0taGi7Goua8/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiximikyjP3qZ6Vw_KzOsQK2WUKG02NDwvG6Gutibgaq9hTovtr27E15fsQ_ZyiGHInU41jyka_nOqAE5MnGk1f9ZAGzmxBKzuUN_HoKAHKBu27urf_Cpfd2ukkp4XsNWYC0taGi7Goua8/s400/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359318810124903122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Kenanga Island (Pulo Cemeti) in 1881.</span><br /></div><br />There are many tourists who come to Taman Sari, both local and international tourists. Based on the information given by the guides at Taman Sari; every day there are about 200 visitors coming to this place. Shortly after the earthquake which destroyed Taman Sari in 2006, the number of visitors began to decrease. However, after the renovation and restoration of Taman Sari, the number of tourists visiting Taman Sari has begun to increase.<br /><br />Taman Sari is under the authority of Kraton. It means that some of the income from Taman Sari is channeled to the Kraton. This also one of the reasons why a visit to Taman Sari is included in the Kraton tour package. Travel agents usually arrange their schedule to visit Taman Sari after visiting Kraton.<br /><br />Taman Sari opens daily from 9 a.m to 3 p.m. with its entrance fee 2,500 IDR for local tourists, 7,000 IDR for international tourist and 1.000 IDR for a camera fee. A licensed-guide will be available to accompany the tourists (optional).<br /><br />So for those who are interested in cultural heritage especially in Jogjakarta, Taman Sari will be a good place to visit.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-18667796717472739222009-07-16T23:41:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:37:09.138-07:00The Art of Understanding the Javanese<div style="text-align: left;">By: Ambar Susilowati, Arum Wijayanti, Ike Irawati, Fajar Ahadi and Giartina Sulistyorini</div><br />17 July 2009<br /><br />Being a Javanese is partly about genealogy, but mostly it is an elaborate art that you have to learn through a long process. It is not as simple as many people think it is. As a Javanese, you learn the customs, norms and values mainly from your nuclear family. However, a Javanese is greatly influenced by the extended family and the whole intricate Javanese society in which he lives. Javanese culture does not only teach its people to respect each other, but also to respect others who are not of Javanese descent. Sometimes it might cause confusion for people from other cultures who do not know Javanese customs, norms and values well. One of the many characteristics of the Javanese is that they want to keep things in harmony, and in order to do so they will try to avoid conflict with others, even if this means they have to “swallow the bitter pills and pretend that those are candies”. Those who do not understand this concept of keeping things in harmony might think that Javanese people in general are pretentious, and superficial. However, once they understand that maintaining the harmonious condition with people around them is a must; people of other cultures will get along well with the Javanese.<br /><br />So, if you want to understand the Javanese better and get insight regarding the going ons in their lives, especially on how the Javanese relate to people of other cultures, here are some important tips for you:<br /><br /> * The polite language<br />Javanese people always use polite language when they talk amongst themselves. Unlike Bahasa Indonesia, Javanese has many variations of the same language which differ in usage. The differentiation is mainly based on whom you are talking to. For talking to older people, they have to use the kromo inggil (the highest level), while the ngoko variant is used while talking to ones peers.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofmPebDpjgojvvlpV58M5zqVleDyuh3OID_tjyfnuDXkXy6Y1QbEnyIpW_SLqU9Rp3Zii-MfFHnVOO_G-6nBY0SbD2A0-zj0eJDf7axD-TpqrzABuM2p1pAjuHRfVEeOIcpJZ5hp2Vqk/s320/Javanese_words_resized.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361494046653482402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px; " /></span><i><div style="text-align: center;">Javanese language has many variations</div></i></div><div><br /> * The tendency to say “YES”<br />Saying YES is almost an obligation for a Javanese. They say YES to almost anything to please other and keep things in harmony. It is considered to be “un-Javanese” to say NO when someone asks for their favor. Foreigners might have a hard time working with Javanese for they always have YES as an answer, but may not always be able to fulfill their YES. The thing is, non-Javanese do not understand that the Javanese usually say YES because they are reluctant to make the other party upset by saying NO.<br /><br /> For example, a Javanese will say YES to someone who asks for his favor to do something although he or she is actually really exhausted or do not even know how to get the favour done.<br /><br /> * The Saving Face (indirectness)<br /> The next characteristic of the Javanese is the tendency to 'save face'. They usually do that by saying something indirectly. They will not go straight forward in rejecting something. They tend to speak as long as they can and it is just to minimize the “lost of face.”<br /><br /> * The Sensitive Feeling<br /> The Javanese are too obliging in most situations. Consider this as an example; when someone asking for a Javanese about direction, the Javanese will not only show him or her the way to get to the place, but offer him or her a ride to get to the place instead.<br /><br />Those are the things you need to consider when you try to get to know the Javanese. I know that it is difficult to understand other people's culture, especially within a short time, but having an open mind towards other cultures no matter how different it is from yours is already one big step to get you closer to understand the Javanese and their culture.</div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-43457739270497157362009-07-16T23:30:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:33:31.525-07:00Diary Entry: Day 8By: Kemi Harahap<br /><br />16 July 2009<br /><br />I woke up with a heavy burden on my chest. It was not only the fact that I was enduring a terrible cough (one that I acquired ever since the post-exams holiday) but also because I was waking up to our second to last day in Yogyakarta.<br /><br />After getting ready, my phone rang, and as I peered to the screen of my phone I saw a message from an old high-school friend, who is studying at UGM. We decided to meet for lunch, and as she picked me up from Malioboro Mall, we exchanged stories over mie-ayam. It was ironic, yet somehow funny at the same time, to find out that throughout the 4 years she has been living in Yogyakarta as a student, she has never visited any tourist sites as we have in the past 8 days. In fact, her knowledge about the city, was limited to the UGM area and several shopping malls.<br /><br />I do not wish to condescend or intimidate my friend, yet I have come to the understanding that if only I had rejected or pulled out from this trip, I would probably be like my friend. Being Indonesian, but the only knowledge of my country will be what is good to eat or where is good to chill. Living only under the confined, air-conditioned rooms in Jakarta, and not having my eyes open to what there was available for me outside of my little box. I have always lived under this generalized idea that cities outside of Jakarta are somewhat underdeveloped, they do not have the kind of shopping malls or developed districts as we do. Yet this visit to Yogyakarta was an eye-opener. I found out that the gems of this country are not the grand and boastful shopping malls that host a number of luxury brands or franchised chains. What allures people, especially people of different cultures and nationalities, to Indonesia is our culture and our scenery.<br /><br />As I looked back to the past 8 days of our trip, I couldn't help but agree that however bad our hotel/motel rooms were, it was balanced by all the beauty we saw around us. From Mount Merapi, Borobudur, Prambanan, and even the paddy fields behind INSIST headquarters, I now understand what the commotion about Indonesia being a beautiful country is all about!! By looking at my other traveling mates, I sense that they see it too.<br /><br />Yet this honeymoon period that we've experienced is coming to an end. We decided that our last night in Yogyakarta must be a memorable one. And yes, memorable it was.<br /><br />We started the night with our farewell dinner at Bale Raos, a restaurant within the Kraton complex (rumoured to be owned by the Sultan's family members). As our honoured guests arrived, we all queued to get our food at the buffet area. White and Brown rice, sate-ayam, and a new favorite of mine, Timlo Soup (also the Sultan's favorite!), we digged in while chatting and mingling with our guests, which included Pak Roni from Rifka Annisa and Ariebowo.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4QKe9W56bQi1levBOqn0-mpi3KIp-pmKck7O7bPhXg1HsF3HX7RVPy_FU5b0QnUkAhMf_gUx6ZmiwhYfhrBsDai9j63bQSJG9BiaAiLIww3hrS8c2UA0xVsM74nzG3yrhvaSoS6IpfU/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4QKe9W56bQi1levBOqn0-mpi3KIp-pmKck7O7bPhXg1HsF3HX7RVPy_FU5b0QnUkAhMf_gUx6ZmiwhYfhrBsDai9j63bQSJG9BiaAiLIww3hrS8c2UA0xVsM74nzG3yrhvaSoS6IpfU/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359322384408996178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Arriving at Bale Raos with a parade of Andungs (Horse Carriages) </span><br /></div><br />However, the night was not just for gulping down royal menus. Our student guides, Nana, Adi, Ike and Ambar, wowed us with a performance of them singing a medley of Indonesian traditional songs, including the classic oldie from Benyamin S, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Hujan Gerimis</span>", in full Indonesian traditional costumes! Their friends Ika and Marsela also performed a traditional Javanese dance, the Saung Asmara. As a tradition (which started off two years ago), we also had to prepare a little performance to entertain and show our gratitude to our guides and guests. Our remixed rendition of Oasis' "Wonderwall" echoed the Kraton walls, as we sung,<div><br /><div><span style="font-style: italic; ">"We've seen so much our bright new eyes are yearning,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; ">For all we've done, we'll spread the word concerning,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; ">There are many things that we would like to say to you but we don't know how..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; ">Hey maybe,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; ">We say Terima Kasih....</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; ">and after all.... you're so Wonderful..."</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaysBYqYEz8B8ohISkLx0DBXJQYiCVldL99dWWUy0VlUdU19zAY8xdwovvNXKdhIajCDhYgM-oWapPy9jV-HnwSRxWn1Y2vmaeFlcPLB_TYDBIjCXpFJQp0CsYTZ-FpKRAk3dhQFlGSDg/s1600-h/DSC_0123.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaysBYqYEz8B8ohISkLx0DBXJQYiCVldL99dWWUy0VlUdU19zAY8xdwovvNXKdhIajCDhYgM-oWapPy9jV-HnwSRxWn1Y2vmaeFlcPLB_TYDBIjCXpFJQp0CsYTZ-FpKRAk3dhQFlGSDg/s320/DSC_0123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359322388583184514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Saung Asmara dance</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnc5dihNKQjXfqxbx2yIb6Pa5n3JeicJHOpg0TfUQi7m3nmsnSdIkEMZBMoyDY_X3cLixHIDnyf9mBLcci38rZcsF-JMQlkLv4LOn22HLBOX7XN6rLVduB1SvFxwvRGDjxbjndl3GMrQU/s1600-h/DSC_0146.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnc5dihNKQjXfqxbx2yIb6Pa5n3JeicJHOpg0TfUQi7m3nmsnSdIkEMZBMoyDY_X3cLixHIDnyf9mBLcci38rZcsF-JMQlkLv4LOn22HLBOX7XN6rLVduB1SvFxwvRGDjxbjndl3GMrQU/s320/DSC_0146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359322389320858306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Performance by the Student guides<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuucMasDsL_tqQzWIzRN72gwKxnfTR7d7pRcQafvwxGbHsGxZObpJAZRs-izpL-PCwt9Zs7i-neV5rK95pTMFDif0bCFRMBCVlQfoBEFt5Ftlr8EWaFfBUYgaxS4EETfo7Dv43jYf_9vo/s1600-h/DSC_0219.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuucMasDsL_tqQzWIzRN72gwKxnfTR7d7pRcQafvwxGbHsGxZObpJAZRs-izpL-PCwt9Zs7i-neV5rK95pTMFDif0bCFRMBCVlQfoBEFt5Ftlr8EWaFfBUYgaxS4EETfo7Dv43jYf_9vo/s320/DSC_0219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359322393940440066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Our Performance at Bale Raos</span><br /></div><br /><i></i>The dinner ended in tears, as several of the girls hugged and exchanged email addresses. However, for the others, the night had only started.<br /><br />Leading the pack, Dr. Yeoh, Shazwan and Rashaad lead the way to what was suppose to be the first option for our hotel near Jalan Sosrowijayan. After taking a peek, we embarked on a journey to the darker side of Yogyakarta- the red light district area of Jalan Pasar Kembang.<br /><br />Jalan Pasar Kembang does not have the bright lights or the laid-back atmosphere as Amsterdam's red light district, De Wallen. As opposed to De Wallen, Pasar Kembang was a long but narrow alley, relatively dark in lighting, but bustling with people and loud dangdut music. There was rooms on each side of the lane, the walls painted green and empty with only a matress, and a girl as the decoration. As our large group walked quietly through the alley, we received calls and pokes from several of the bystanders, both men and women.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWE2UrKwmg0kjZXVCQs1_hZYbDqof17t0fYJ47DGAwcRZ93smJxb6NTCMIm0xD-iBNvS4aqgGv1ZI76xsnaEiazXeplEi7qOt-RnvHp7mVR3LSCoTYAXDeid_LcyWdyAbqZ2oONGmKvpk/s1600-h/DSC_0241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWE2UrKwmg0kjZXVCQs1_hZYbDqof17t0fYJ47DGAwcRZ93smJxb6NTCMIm0xD-iBNvS4aqgGv1ZI76xsnaEiazXeplEi7qOt-RnvHp7mVR3LSCoTYAXDeid_LcyWdyAbqZ2oONGmKvpk/s320/DSC_0241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359322402485262914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">At Lucifer's at the end of Pasar Kembang</span><br /></div><br />Throughout our trip, we have always seen the bright side of Yogyakarta- the green fields, the beautiful volcanic scenery, and the majestic pre-historic sites. For some of us it was hard to believe that there was a dark side to all of this, but for others, this is the real, uncensored Yogyakarta, the things we don't see in tourist brochures or advertisements. This is reality.<br /><br />Talking about reality, it is time for us to get back to our reality. Our reality could be the new semester that starts on Monday, or the fact that graduation leads us to the world of job-searching...whatever it is, Yogyakarta has been a great detour from our reality.<br /><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4475&id=1807550373&l=b5c9dc3f04">photo album</a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Kemi is pursuing her last semester as a Communication major and International Studies minor. She is among one of the Indonesian students in this trip and is of Javanese descendant (as well as <span style="font-style: italic;">Bataknese, Sundanese and Bugis</span>) which justifies her fondness for sweets. She is in charge of the management of the In Search of Yogyakarta blog as well as the resident tweeter.</div></div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-86263477070895603372009-07-16T23:26:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:37:46.479-07:00A Preview of the Local Dangdut Scene<div style="text-align: left;">By: Dominique Staindl</div><br />16 July 2009<br /><br />Crass, cheap-looking, big fake smiles in glittzy shreads of material was my first, somewhat unsympathetic and judgmental opinion of what I saw in front of me when I'd been taken to Indonesia's local dance scene. Dangdut performances were, to me, a clothed version of stripping...and singing.<br /><br />Of course, there's a lot more to it than that but I challenge anyone to think otherwise when they're first confronted with one, two or maybe three buxom women up on stage clutching at microphones with painted talons wearing wigs and dressed in strips of sequins and polyester frills squawking at a crowd of men who have long forgotten about their (other) female counterparts. It was quite a show. We had managed to arrive 15 minutes before the end, and perhaps that was enough for me.<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-L2rRlqfHNJVw-IqBAkSEADfSth694a-GGE6p3G3_LijF6OiT1gEgfeLbGyypbs3Ulw87ST6t4XLY20BnK6h7NZguGJZFpE6IE-7QeAjQItSYGja5Dbu88Upf4rqN0x4fwiC6Am6Hhs/s1600-h/DSC09262.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-L2rRlqfHNJVw-IqBAkSEADfSth694a-GGE6p3G3_LijF6OiT1gEgfeLbGyypbs3Ulw87ST6t4XLY20BnK6h7NZguGJZFpE6IE-7QeAjQItSYGja5Dbu88Upf4rqN0x4fwiC6Am6Hhs/s320/DSC09262.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784144161004002" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;">Dangdut at Purawisata</div></i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C0I37s5JlqLbRP9GSGwaQF0XifiOcXZAp5lNCflLk1oYXxWm6POpiCPzdPFhMH_pt3v0Te70Fv8UcKrJ3qljbhQYHEDVGaAmR_VXinRCuUISa2kNxSfHLtQ0OacNPUh47hU4T_rmnTs/s1600-h/DSC09259.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C0I37s5JlqLbRP9GSGwaQF0XifiOcXZAp5lNCflLk1oYXxWm6POpiCPzdPFhMH_pt3v0Te70Fv8UcKrJ3qljbhQYHEDVGaAmR_VXinRCuUISa2kNxSfHLtQ0OacNPUh47hU4T_rmnTs/s320/DSC09259.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784143752624770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;">Dangdut stars are known for their glitzy (and often crass) performances</div></i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVY-tmXQGfcF7g06RKWuofC4ivGM0VciSlAyPNX-VzBRndO7dYzcE_-yPFXkc-OttUXitflDNI_WmeNfLN8NPKEVKGuhUAXwFmynkH3Uoa7nF0N-MTbocaTU2Tw_kCOteraZak3vlbUQ/s1600-h/DSC09258.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVY-tmXQGfcF7g06RKWuofC4ivGM0VciSlAyPNX-VzBRndO7dYzcE_-yPFXkc-OttUXitflDNI_WmeNfLN8NPKEVKGuhUAXwFmynkH3Uoa7nF0N-MTbocaTU2Tw_kCOteraZak3vlbUQ/s320/DSC09258.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784138644655266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i>dangdut is also known as 'musik rakyat' or the music of the masses</i></div><div><br />The final act was a duo of 20-something year olds dressed in yellow, and these girls were by far the most daring. There was mutual caressing, girating and hip-grinding action thrown in with complex and athletic posing involving spread-eagles and external props. Need I say more? You get the idea.<br /><br />Dangdut was started in the 70's by the self-proclaimed “King of Dangdut” Rhoma Irama, among working class Muslim youth, but beginning in the late 1990s reached a broader audience following in Indonesia and Malaysia. These days the girls still perform for predominantly blue-collared workers and cross-dressers in need of a few thrills. The theory is that they dance to a heavy, low drumming sound. I could hear a lot more over the drums, I admit, but where my criticisms lay with the style of singing and dancing, they could not extend to the charming performers I had the privilege to meet afterwards, on the insistence of the friendly club owner. As it turns out, these girls are named Anna and Novi and they are both studying law.<br /><br />The pair, called “Double Ratu Star” (Double Queen Star), both love what they do because it's stress-free and the pay is good. The club owner states that these two are excellent at what they do, which is explains why they are a popular choice amongst the dance venues which hold Dangdut performances. And as they stare out at me under impossibly long eyelashes I wonder whether or not they really want to do this, or whether it's an easy way to pay for their courses. Anna explains through my translators that her mother encouraged her, as it was a family generational tradition. She goes on to say, with the enthusiastic input of her partner, that they don't even need to practice that much because it comes off so naturally! And the law? Is the more self-sustainable option for when the stardom of being one of the best Dangdut dancers eventually wears thin.<br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gG4w3DllPdIiCbBim1z27y7Xl98R95Fl8MnDNNQMZY3nnDCBrCrGivLaykxNnsrwq4XEcLChyphenhyphen_HF4ClBnDeUzaTHsAxzJ9mUos6INx2Xd_oqmtXoHtZSXRfzA1-TRIYOpyipOV95Dao/s1600-h/DSC09271+(1).JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQXqFIjmnuBEMH4qibOuWWBeaFvnyHMicr_wtZz3zfbr-ZOXPUt23YDck-XwsUABr0nOUny9X8bDp8KVWIEotM0sIrIJrFPc4IXOwvjFI4SsI_pP78x87FlGuePul7AR76cPcEYhsEtE/s1600-h/DSC09269.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQXqFIjmnuBEMH4qibOuWWBeaFvnyHMicr_wtZz3zfbr-ZOXPUt23YDck-XwsUABr0nOUny9X8bDp8KVWIEotM0sIrIJrFPc4IXOwvjFI4SsI_pP78x87FlGuePul7AR76cPcEYhsEtE/s320/DSC09269.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784149398209202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Double Ratu Star</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gG4w3DllPdIiCbBim1z27y7Xl98R95Fl8MnDNNQMZY3nnDCBrCrGivLaykxNnsrwq4XEcLChyphenhyphen_HF4ClBnDeUzaTHsAxzJ9mUos6INx2Xd_oqmtXoHtZSXRfzA1-TRIYOpyipOV95Dao/s320/DSC09271+(1).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360784153529192162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>with the two dangdut stars</i></div><div><br />I thank them so much for their time, especially as I hadn't expected an interview from the Queens themselves. They were all too happy to help.<br /><br />So as we walk out of venue, which had cleared within minutes of the show's conclusion, my more local friends explain to me their own experiences of Dangdut, and what they understood it to mean. Adi, one of our Pathfinder leaders, explains that a show he had seen in a rural area was a little more "wild" and had even, at times, involved the gratuitous use of raw meat. Mmmm. Rachel, one of the Malaysian students from Monash, understood the Malaysian style of Dangdut dancing to be more 'traditional' and more modest in its costumes.<br /><br />Well, regardless of what is was, or what it was perceived to be through my ever-widening eyes, I couldn't deny the show's popularity nor the energy and enthusiasm maintained by all the girls. But perhaps I'll stick to the more mainstream venues for my own dancing enjoyment.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Dominique or Dom as we all call her, has a mixture of English, Irish and Austro-Hungarian heritage. The Virgo who is pursuing a double major in French and Photography and minoring in Communication hails from Melbourne, Australia. Dom recalls <span style="font-style: italic;">poco-poco</span> or line-dancing in Purawisata and walking blindfolded through the Banyan trees in Alun-alun Selatan as her favorite moments in Yogyakarta.</div></div></div></div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-458106109970047352009-07-16T23:22:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:28:28.872-07:00Yogya - A Shopper's 7th HeavenBy: Abeer Yusuf<br /><br />16 July 2009<br /><br />I have contemplated a multitude of angles in which to start this essay on shopping. I thought of so many ways in which I could begin a sentence which would properly describe the essence of shopping in Yogyakarta. Alas, I have no avenue. The tale must be told as it is. Shopping in Yogya is simply spectacular. Take from me, this is something you DO NOT want to miss. I believe the higher powers above were indeed working for our greater good when we got a hotel right on the edge of Malioboro Street, the Yogyan street best known for it's shopping. Row after row you see a tempting delight, be it a batik wallet or leather jewelery. Minute after minute you are enticed by dirt cheap bargains.<br /><br />I believe the best thing that ever happened to me in Indonesia was the fact that I became a millionaireness as soon as I set foot here. The power I felt in my hands (and wallet) was too good a feeling. What was even greater was the prices at which things are sold here. A Coke costs about Rupiah 2000-3000 (approx. RM1) while back home it costs at least Rm1.70. Apart from Coke, just everything else from t-shirts to souvenirs to groceries is unbelievably cheap. What makes the shopping all the more holy is the variety and quality of things you can get.<br /><br />Take batik for instance. I've come up with a slogan for the batik here- “even before you think about it in batik, it's been made in batik”. I come from a country where batik prints are restricted largely to clothes and the occasional key chain here and there. But this was a real shocker- from wallets to fans to bangles to chopsticks, people here live and breathe in batik! We headed on our final day to a place called Mirota Batik, a shopping haven where you can get everything, and then some. I have never seen SO many things in batik. There were batik plates, drawings, batik on necklaces, mirrors, trays, scarves, bedsheets, table runners, caps, slippers, rings, napkins, table mats, shampoo bottles, t-shirts, just everywhere!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSArmj_7tgnXcR9XWanRljS-JQEQ4uGvfkh2GqKY0QzTOOTz9kQbvubcHu15X0HDEJc0xXEnFVy8vJi30a95JkWIF6rrUgS-oOTl_dBn2OppYNv_G9Ff6TZJk7Tguy767l5drihN2sVJQ/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSArmj_7tgnXcR9XWanRljS-JQEQ4uGvfkh2GqKY0QzTOOTz9kQbvubcHu15X0HDEJc0xXEnFVy8vJi30a95JkWIF6rrUgS-oOTl_dBn2OppYNv_G9Ff6TZJk7Tguy767l5drihN2sVJQ/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359326844976649346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Souvenirs found in Mirota</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXT9RiUjHIeKnTdxhyphenhyphensE40cbz8gexc_BAsiuMWVX6Pz6L-Tm4xXv3IrASjzB7hgMKqP1VBjBkOv01jpGKOvNt_cvJssyBKXDusKqmne_vLd8JZXB8gv_RmpwJWlKRZC15479ZFo7FffY/s1600-h/42.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXT9RiUjHIeKnTdxhyphenhyphensE40cbz8gexc_BAsiuMWVX6Pz6L-Tm4xXv3IrASjzB7hgMKqP1VBjBkOv01jpGKOvNt_cvJssyBKXDusKqmne_vLd8JZXB8gv_RmpwJWlKRZC15479ZFo7FffY/s320/42.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359326850105328034" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Wayang is one of the most popular souvenirs for foreign travelers to bring home</span><br /></div><br />Malioboro will be further evidence for this; it seems as though God rained batik in place of water over the people of Yogya. Silver and cow skin are two other mediums that the locals love to utilize. You get lovely fans, foldable table lamps and other little memorabilia made from cow skin while designs in silver echo the Javanese culture that is so typically Yogya. Motifs that I noticed include the Javanese leaf, bullock cart, 'andung' (horse carriage), Rama and Sita, and various types of flowers made into brooches. There is yet another market on Malioboro Street, dedicated solely to clothes, called Beringharjo. This is the place to go when you need to buy clothes and trust me, your head will be spinning after you're done with it. Perched stall after perched stall you will find batik shirts, batik sarongs, dresses, jumpsuits, bags- the list just goes on.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA8rT0qBAkot5z4oAi36YAzNnYpwnDTDptAbuuKV0HuAzPjRzFpGlVcqDnJvfOfIpLnUj5RbJfKvRyRM7ed-Gnq7Ja3MtUGamRnboAKm6hT61tnOmXJ6mHDtC90gtLwvFDlcMttQdz74/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA8rT0qBAkot5z4oAi36YAzNnYpwnDTDptAbuuKV0HuAzPjRzFpGlVcqDnJvfOfIpLnUj5RbJfKvRyRM7ed-Gnq7Ja3MtUGamRnboAKm6hT61tnOmXJ6mHDtC90gtLwvFDlcMttQdz74/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359326835030066818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Beringharjo Market</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieidzTMsKzhEUiswJKXk0uaL6fKbYkGy2TPVFSMnooBRm1F3M6ce4nubpgc_1_hKbety9oKBwbwPiXccG5Cua4HhEtgP8FFcv1SJMMIC8bQ1LfWd32HhTVWfgU4xwOIPdJMH_5zM15qkc/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieidzTMsKzhEUiswJKXk0uaL6fKbYkGy2TPVFSMnooBRm1F3M6ce4nubpgc_1_hKbety9oKBwbwPiXccG5Cua4HhEtgP8FFcv1SJMMIC8bQ1LfWd32HhTVWfgU4xwOIPdJMH_5zM15qkc/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359326849021253874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Silver stall at Beringharjo</span><br /></div><br />What's the Everest amongst all of this is the knowledge that everything is bargainable. Malioboro is filled with bargains from start to finish, as is Beringharjo (though a word of caution- even the best fail to bargain here). And for someone like me, nicknamed the Bargain Queen, this place was like paradise. Bargains left and right attack you, threatening to tip your luggage allowance scale even further. Of course, the cardinal rule that the more you buy, the cheaper you get still applies. As such, I think it's safe to say that I bought everything that was buy-able. In fact, I even bargained at a place where it was unimaginable that bargains are possible- the money exchanger. While all this makes you want to thank capitalism for existing, shopping in Yogya has also been one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. Dirt cheap was good for me, but what about those who make these things? Sellers still scrape by with profits, but the state of the producers just makes me wonder how they get by- and how much they get by on. One other thing that really wrenched my heart out was when we were in Beringharjo and an elderly lady approached me. At first I thought she wanted money, as it's not an uncommon sight to see the elderly begging. But she pointed to her back, and upon a closer listen, I understood that she was offering to carry my heavy bag of shopping. Brash as this may sound, my own personal slave. To follow me wherever I was going, carrying my shopping. Makes you think, doesn't it?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wPS2u6twVMewdPav7xRaGf2h1-6W8sbzs1TmbsYdsDeXCsDnAJD8hnOIrVtCWD6qJyOkbLP07yFLf4TmjeI8dXs6Ww-1QBHs1PGEajrHREg59U-vfkWfiS0hUzCLMamCaMNzcQBmP80/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wPS2u6twVMewdPav7xRaGf2h1-6W8sbzs1TmbsYdsDeXCsDnAJD8hnOIrVtCWD6qJyOkbLP07yFLf4TmjeI8dXs6Ww-1QBHs1PGEajrHREg59U-vfkWfiS0hUzCLMamCaMNzcQBmP80/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359326839273785234" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The lady that offered to carry our shopping</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(for more information, click <a href="http://insearchofyogyakarta.blogspot.com/2009/07/tale-of-gendhong-women.html">Gendhong Women of Beringharjo</a>)</i></div><br />At the end of the day however, it is undeniable that Yogyakarta is one of the best destinations to shop for things- things that are not only good in quality, but are also culturally symbolic and the best part are the bargains. Needless to say, my most favourite word in Indonesian was “<span style="font-style: italic;">bisa kurang</span>” (can lower more?).<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Abeer is pursuing Writing and International Studies at Monash University Sunway Campus. Being especially talkactive and chatty, Abeer is also part of the blog team that is in charge of this blog and In Search of Yogyakarta's facebook.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-11623193745968692052009-07-16T23:14:00.000-07:002009-07-22T20:38:43.761-07:00Traditional MedicineBy: Dominique Staindl<br /><br />16 July 2009<br /><br />Any traveller away from home long enough will have a story of being sick. It's one of the most uncomfortable situations you can find yourself in, especially when you're trying to be adventurous far from your comfort zone. However, if you're coming to central Java you have a unique option available. There is a form of traditional, liquid medicine called <span style="font-style: italic;">Jamu </span>passed down from generations of <span style="font-style: italic;">penduduk asli</span> (native peoples) that will supposedly help all sorts of ailments. And for the traveller who does things in style, there are now chic cafe-restaurants serving and specialising in Jamu.<br /><br />I was shown the local Yogyakarta "House of Raminten" by our guides where we were treated to an assortment of the cloudy tonic. With its plush outdoor garden setting, the rather affordable eatery is just like any other commercialised form of therapy-chic, just like the spas and retreat-farms all popping up wherever there are tourists. However, the menu boasts 39 different drinks to aid symptoms of daily living; from menstrual cramps and increasing milk-flow for breastfeeding women to remedies for pimples, liver problems and migraines (even itchiness!); this place has it all. Of course, the cafe survives on the business of its customers, therefore its main concern is marketing and aesthetic. But the staff and manager truly believe in the power of the Jamu - well, why else would it have survived for so long?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IPdw_-bUyfKbVU7KA7U1BghBgFJXpdvjCeeTLj0P2GjCe7dhBHxlJW_cDWSwG3qYdqNBLgXIvbYQUCBOi6DgxA4x3q8spKypuY1_6RJutj9dJPWJ6stknm_PyB90-MVZYmM_N-cFvq0/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IPdw_-bUyfKbVU7KA7U1BghBgFJXpdvjCeeTLj0P2GjCe7dhBHxlJW_cDWSwG3qYdqNBLgXIvbYQUCBOi6DgxA4x3q8spKypuY1_6RJutj9dJPWJ6stknm_PyB90-MVZYmM_N-cFvq0/s320/7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359324027899783042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">House of Raminten</span><br /></div><br />The antidotes consist of hundreds of herbs, leaves, fruits, barks and spices found in and around the geographical region and there are variations of the styles and recipes as you venture further around Indonesia. Some of the most versatile and staple ingredients are ginger, cinnamon, turmeric and jasmine. Locals buy the juices off local women (<span style="font-style: italic;">Mbok Jamu Gendong</span>), which literally translates to older, mobile seller of medicine. This is witnessed through and on the Jalan Mariboro where old women walk or ride baskets of different coloured cloudy tonics, selling by the bottle or cup. And like most things in Indonesia, the prices are very affordable. You're looking at Rp 3,000 per bottle.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqhxjwNZ6jZG4F7kq5m4TLh7Vb5QGWOCP1LzbmwSaICxPPkYpj_Cft9Wj2hENIGGxcsbdQASbZvcYxdJD_LxHeRv9gWzcOpTX4HukiiEaX9KslShSnrcEU1XvuZDHVO3D_uQq_2if5ZM/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqhxjwNZ6jZG4F7kq5m4TLh7Vb5QGWOCP1LzbmwSaICxPPkYpj_Cft9Wj2hENIGGxcsbdQASbZvcYxdJD_LxHeRv9gWzcOpTX4HukiiEaX9KslShSnrcEU1XvuZDHVO3D_uQq_2if5ZM/s320/5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359324015470066818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jamu carts found all over the city</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKsVoeeO8f20urZymin4ZLpoKqkMt1uAqMVfpuxJBG7aK8BXCqWp0FMlfDSu9t_lCTIg_kpR5YrrDUyWIFOAOZx2bRi1jLpWof4xpjWjPRjozec8_kjPS_lkLFL33PiRKlO-iSGDeTeQ/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKsVoeeO8f20urZymin4ZLpoKqkMt1uAqMVfpuxJBG7aK8BXCqWp0FMlfDSu9t_lCTIg_kpR5YrrDUyWIFOAOZx2bRi1jLpWof4xpjWjPRjozec8_kjPS_lkLFL33PiRKlO-iSGDeTeQ/s320/6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359324021050533298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The variety of Jamu available</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1ooQKqFQJWahLWINOKFHz8Sv5OrZjgwkA0g0Xw7z13H7UI9vjn3ChyphenhyphenlAF5W5i2owdNa9gNEJ111tUYnw260oMqDU_NOKf2XFdYnIL_dKVwfW9b-5pDLsQrxRVU4NYpIJe8ZG_1GoLuo/s1600-h/8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1ooQKqFQJWahLWINOKFHz8Sv5OrZjgwkA0g0Xw7z13H7UI9vjn3ChyphenhyphenlAF5W5i2owdNa9gNEJ111tUYnw260oMqDU_NOKf2XFdYnIL_dKVwfW9b-5pDLsQrxRVU4NYpIJe8ZG_1GoLuo/s320/8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359324028837393618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Mbok Jamu Gendong</span><br /></div><br />And the taste? Well, just like any medicine, it's not designed to please but to heal. Prepare for coloured variations of bitter, peppery flavor. Maybe have a cold bottle of coke on standby for the chaser.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Dominique or Dom as we all call her, has a mixture of English, Irish and Austro-Hungarian heritage. The Virgo who is pursuing a double major in French and Photography and minoring in Communication hails from Melbourne, Australia. Dom recalls <span style="font-style: italic;">poco-poco</span> or line-dancing in Purawisata and walking blindfolded through the Banyan trees in Alun-alun Selatan as her favorite moments in Yogyakarta.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-16396931901659317792009-07-16T23:09:00.001-07:002009-07-22T20:39:55.003-07:00Borobudur: Sharing A Way of Life<div style="text-align: left;">By: Rachel Lai</div><br />16 July 2009<br /><br />Imagine riding on a plane high up above the Central Java Province, only to find a 'mandala' (an ancient Sanskrit word for 'healing circle') amidst the greeneries. Similar to every other world heritage icons, the Borobudur Temple is one of those enigmas that exemplify the wonders of mankind and faith. The Temple portrays Buddhism as a way of life through the tales of resisting temptation and desire as we pursue our journey into enlightenment.<br /><br />On our excursion day, we took the opportunity to visit one of the 7 wonders in the world. However, it was surprising that the weekend had attracted more of the local visitors than the expected foreigners. As we made our way into the 'international visitors/VIP' entrance, the street vendors trailed behind us to sell us their products. One can't help but be lured to the sunglasses, hats and umbrella offerings due to the blazing hot sun.<br /><br />After flashing our Monash student IDs to receive a special rate of 7.00USD (rather than 12.00 USD), we finished our welcome drink and got acquainted with our tour guide, Aishah. As we walked through the park she began her introduction to the history behind the Temple's existence. Every now and then the patient lady had to pause and wait for us as we got engrossed within the surroundings. You can only imagine our reaction when we spotted the sight of the Temple from a distance. It was truly one of those moments where you just stop breathing for those few seconds and wished you had more than those silly cameras to capture the moment.<br /><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9oOcS75yTfdp-TWAIuM2m-uHK4zUprWTODO_NiiMkaG3Bu18jGEaGxK8PbGgKQXrCMiPS2i1xVf5TLZqbTO9u9e42Ww_bUg9YHVe_dZdlTEokyqLXDTvQrlVGNXmvu5yk-hkAzkTn6eU/s320/DSC09194.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Borobudur from the side</i></div><div><br />The view of Buddha statues and holed 'stupa' (dome shaped monuments) were accompanied by nature's mountainous backgrounds. We were told that we had to walk up the 3 sections of the Temple in a clockwise manner. As we climbed up the first level known as "Kamadhatu", Aishah explained the deeper meanings of the ancient scriptures. We quickly realized how those images would have meant nothing if it weren't for her explanations. She was telling us how Buddhism describe human lives as a struggle to control desires. One of the images portrayed alcohol and opium as a form of desire that disrupts the journey into spirituality.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvks90_DLK8edXXIoKdPX7Q0f28pS-Wd61Ik1E23ccgWEN9_p4IaswA2OaiKWFlJQysHizfKjRqjdodgv_4U3-QlsD8OLy2cQXuE3waCPqCja9NbHcp5rIhawNtJJYTcoHIpVvHx2po-s/s320/DSC09163.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>these stupas have diamond-shaped holes, while the next level has squared-shaped holes</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS71ZMaSsZvit0PhRVmxPQosVWy1tccEwf2M6FHJtPXUSb5ODTViTwhaAD3RO4eOMSeluZP71YvmC1erDU3rEq_0UT_0L3Wl_dWSXFbXbf9CTMF1lnjQVP4jZdVGWzNCKMcrhYP5M-WFI/s320/DSC09107.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>stories and philosophies carved into the stone</i></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Some of us listened intently while the rest were evidently distracted by taking photographs and videos. We climbed our way onto the large steps into the second level, called "Rupadhatu", which apparently described the life of Siddartha Gautama. Lastly, we made our way into the highest point known as "Arupadhatu", which lies the view of the largest stupa. We were told that in order to receive blessings, the men would touch the fingers of the Buddha, while the women would touch his feet. Regardless of how unrealistic those stories may sound, most of us who seemed like wishful thinkers silently made our wishes as we struggled our hands through the stupa holes to touch the Buddha.<br /><br />Despite the serenity that we embraced from the magical place, we had to fight our way for space amidst the heavy crowd. As we duck our heads away from the colourful umbrellas, we managed to catch the glimpses of beauty that we sought for. Perhaps what broke the tranquility was when the young locals began to approach some of us for photograph sessions.<br /><br />“Can I take photo for you?” said a young Javanese girl. I responded by saying, “Sure, I can take a photo FOR you”. She reacted in disagreement and resorted to hand gestures which explained how she wanted to take a photograph WITH ME. And so I reluctantly did. It eventually became hilarious to take several photos with them and yet not understanding the reason behind their request.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dbwocxV-BIPQ0m92ZNhb_NtpZcz7fOUb4NYTvLbwnt70q9NdoVCuBwrG7CwzxJgnQiH-Rso6BnyN6rddqHJlDN9XEaqVSpn4ThwDrcmiTVe5qIEzdRbRcHLqzFKSAEQi1fQ6duxCoSQ/s320/DSC09166.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>With random Javanese students</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>At the peak of the Temple, Aishah told us that we should begin circling the 'Arupadhatu' area in a clock wise manner. Apparently, it is an ancient Buddhist practice of truth whereby one is to circle the stupa with our vows made in hearts. After we made our rounds, Rashaad and I sat quietly on the edge, staring away to the mountains as though we had reached a higher level state of mind.<br /><br />Visiting the Borobudur Temple on a weekend is probably a different vibe altogether given that it was overpopulated. I reckon that a weekday visit would have enhanced the placid environment especially when there's no need to battle for a comfortable spot. Nevertheless, it doesn't change the fact that we have now experienced a globally accepted form of sacredness. It was simply up to our imagination to shut out all the unnecessary noise as well as erase the extra images of the rest of the world, only to have a solitary moment of discovery.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Rachel Lai is a Malaysian currently pursuing her FINAL year in Bachelor of Arts (majoring in International Studies and Communications) in Monash University Malaysia. A passionate day-dreamer addicted to exploration, she believes that there is nothing in this world that should stop us from fulfilling our dreams.</div></div></div></div>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-71264826109297524182009-07-16T23:09:00.000-07:002009-07-16T23:13:16.907-07:00Reflections (Diary Entry)By: Cheah Wui Jia<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br />You learn things about yourself that you never knew during a Monash study trip to Yogyakarta.<br /><br />One thing is certain: when I sleep at night, I need a blanket. To myself. Waging a tug of war with someone else over a piece of cloth does not come across as particularly appealing to me. Nor does immobilising myself in my sleep like a specimen in solution; I had to inhibit the overwhelming tendency to encroach into someone else's sleeping territory when sharing a bed (“Oh my God Wui Jia. You sleep all over the place, I don't have space anymore,”)<br /><br />Different bed times are tantamount to disaster. Roommates of light sleepers are to be pitied. Twitch a muscle and the light sleeper arouses with a start. With bated breath you would have to inch across the room on tiptoe, stealing a glance at your snoozing roommate whose wrath you just might incur if you ever wake her up with your noise. Feeling as sneaky as a thief would when breaking into a house, you realise that turning on the tap would be a no no; you wince at the fact that your roommate might just stir at the sound of running water.<br /><br />I used to think that wearing socks to sleep at night was for ninnies, until I came to Yogyakarta. The nights were so cold, that I curled into excruciating positions that I never knew I was ever capable of achieving (“There's something I need to tell you Wui Jia. You sleep in the weirdest positions ever.”). I began having bizarre dreams; one night I dreamt that an army of ants started viciously attacking the stash of food supplies that I had kept in the hotel room. Drenching myself in icy water during a bath in the evening did not help the situation. I developed such phobic tendencies for bath time, such that I was horrified at how I increasingly resembled under aged rascals who refused to obey Mom's orders to take baths. I had to weigh the consequences of smelling like my dog, against the painful repercussions of sending jolts of shock through myself while taking an icy shower.<br /><br />Menstrual cramps. My poor roommate. Feeling like a cantankerous old woman, I swung like a pendulum from being a talkative ball of joy to becoming a sullen sour prune. During my moody times having meals with eighteen other fellow travelers became like a fight to preserve my sanity in a noisy fish market. The buzzing flies that I encountered at restaurants had the potential to trigger an eruption of stress hormones, and my roommate kept me at arm's length during my moments of silence to prevent a disruption in the qi that had been so harmoniously established between the both of us.<br /><br />Playing with the children at HUMANA not only released a good rush of endorphins, it made me realise that the simplest pleasures in life could consist of a Freudian memory retreat to childhood. However, I was reminded of how my agility and speed paled in comparison to that of children; during a game of captain's ball, they darted from one end of the court to the other before I could bat an eyelid. After a few rounds of games, I already felt like all the air had been knocked out of me. It was heartening to watch the children dive into the candy that we had brought for them. A simple but nonetheless often taken for granted experience: having a piece of candy to suck on. Those children burst into peals of laughter at almost anything that had the vaguest resemblance to humour.<br /><br />I am definitely looking forward to the shopping experience tomorrow with my beloved roommate Abeer. I hear she's a bargain queen.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Cheah Wui Jia is doing a double major in Psychology and Writing at Monash University in Malaysia. Hailing from the state of Penang, she has developed a love-and-hate relationship for tasty but unhealthy food. She found the Kali Code experience particularly enlightening as she discovered a profound irony in the joy of a people whose lives are also ridden with poverty. She is immensely grateful for the opportunity to participate in this study trip to Yogyakarta; the people she met whilst touring and the fellow travelers whom she stayed with, have instilled within her the desire to continually live life to the fullest.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-81069328539540727782009-07-15T10:23:00.000-07:002009-07-15T22:05:56.759-07:00Diary Entry: Day 7By: Feeza Ashruff<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br />At the break of dawn on day 7, it was a sure thing to find everyone still covered in their blankets embracing every last bit of their dreams from the night before. On day 7 we knew that there were no early sessions in the morning to wake up for and everyone just slept in except the travelers who had stories due in the morning at 10.00 a.m. Everyone had been reminded the night before that the whole afternoon was free for those who had to pursue their still unwritten stories due in the following days. Hence, in the morning all the travelers were scattered doing their own things; Joanna who had a soft story to write on Batik headed off with our student guide Ike and a few other fellow travellers who were personally interested in Batik to Kampung Kauman, where they were scheduled to learn the art of Batik from Batik master Lukman Jamali. While they were off to their Batik session, the other students were once again out on the streets bargaining their hearts out to buy souvenirs for their folks back home. Occasionally the shoppers would convene and compare prices of the goods bought, to get the best deals.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZv_X3hSYwqBFhr9rXEpsK1RmnwfoO_MQmUijFJOyzWRVaE27dmXcTYhDlZjdBxDd-u2jYOAWwe4EyAEh13I1sEYEjDlKkvr7CudJKmwxQ1jh77-Z-FlY2qqYWOtx5aXOymkwNrR2hHc/s1600-h/DSC00387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZv_X3hSYwqBFhr9rXEpsK1RmnwfoO_MQmUijFJOyzWRVaE27dmXcTYhDlZjdBxDd-u2jYOAWwe4EyAEh13I1sEYEjDlKkvr7CudJKmwxQ1jh77-Z-FlY2qqYWOtx5aXOymkwNrR2hHc/s320/DSC00387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358740363694718674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The results of the Batik session at Kauman</span><br /></div><br />By 2.00pm everyone began heading back to the hotel from wherever they were to meet up with Dr.Yeoh at the lobby before heading off together for the final session in this trip; meeting the children of HUMANA, a kind of day care centre for underprivileged children. However on the way to HUMANA we lost our way and was rescued by Mbak Adis a representative from the shelter. Despite getting lost, we still arrived 15 minutes before the scheduled time of 3pm and thus had plenty of time convening in the HUMANA house and getting to know the adorable kids before heading off to a schoolyard nearby to play some pre-planned games. After lots of translations and miscommunication with the children we managed to play 3 games which were 'wolf and sheep', 'ular dan naga' and also basketball. Everyone including the travelers played along, laughing and running together with the children. A few injuries occurred to the travelers- Shazwan was accidentally hit in the face and I had my foot stomped on. Painful, but I am sure that for both Shazwan and I, these injuries only made the day more memorable, as sometimes memories are made from injuries. At the end of the session we took the compulsory sedate group photograph and Dr Yeoh's favourite 'jumping shot'. We also distributed the candies, toys and books that were brought for the children in the centre. We then slowly walked back to the hotel feeling really exhausted and old.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZfsDt1fPgKhlRK0w_oaGo59LKd5vt3zL2Aqn_YiJ8ZV30ka1oUKPOIFjs_nolb93u1v_w7SgJ68iU4m7fICGUnlWDN09QgW5sB5wDn4VqXbAY1DeUuC72-ruoagzGHnwKVZQdWB09CE/s1600-h/DSC_0039.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZfsDt1fPgKhlRK0w_oaGo59LKd5vt3zL2Aqn_YiJ8ZV30ka1oUKPOIFjs_nolb93u1v_w7SgJ68iU4m7fICGUnlWDN09QgW5sB5wDn4VqXbAY1DeUuC72-ruoagzGHnwKVZQdWB09CE/s320/DSC_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358740369209102386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Playing 'Ular Naga Panjang' (Long Dragon) a traditional Indonesian game with the children<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZXIHYX8aSAdJE0CKO3wOEO3Kn6ijW0KUeg3ShHk8lP5OVun3pdwTjYTqTygPxa_DUEEQyTmxOy24z2S3gL5NAfT5I_0QPGb51lByvwuF-lOq_x3-3COngCD6vf1Tb9NAsUQ5Xpp4RZk/s1600-h/DSC_0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZXIHYX8aSAdJE0CKO3wOEO3Kn6ijW0KUeg3ShHk8lP5OVun3pdwTjYTqTygPxa_DUEEQyTmxOy24z2S3gL5NAfT5I_0QPGb51lByvwuF-lOq_x3-3COngCD6vf1Tb9NAsUQ5Xpp4RZk/s320/DSC_0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358740375837850322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The children laughing and playing with the students</span><br /></div><br />When we arrived, we gathered at the lobby for tomorrow's briefing and right after the briefing everyone was once again free to do their own activities; some headed off for dinner, some to the cyber cafe writing up their blog entries while the rest went shopping.Melanie and i went for a wonderful massage and spa at a hotel near by with Farhanah as our escort. I must say that today was one of the most laidback day on the entire trip to Yogyakarta.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Feeza is currently a third year student (hopefully graduating in 2 days time) majoring in International Studies and minoring in Communication. She is an absolute crazy one. Laughing is her middle name and she is always in love with children. One of the most veteran travelers in the IN SEARCH series organized by Dr.Yeoh and Monash University Sunway Campus, Feeza is also a person with a very complex heart and mind. She hides her feelings a lot (seriously) but adores her family and friends to bits. =)Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-38367400601511001922009-07-15T10:20:00.000-07:002009-07-16T19:47:34.802-07:00HUMANABy: Wei Jia Xi<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Background Information:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">HUMANA is one of the NGOs in Yogyakarta which has been helping and supporting street boys, between the age of nine and eighteen. It was established in 1982, with the informal name, Girli. The organization could also be described as a cooperation between street children, the employees of HUMANA and volunteers who are working together seeking alternative possibilities for the life of the street children.</span><br /><br />Since 2002, HUMANA started to focus on street children from the <span style="font-style: italic;">kampungs </span>(villages). The main focus of HUMANA’s activities is prevention. Today, HUMANA has 5 bases in 5 different <span style="font-style: italic;">kampungs (</span>villages). In this project, HUMANA chose education and health care accessibility as their main concerns. The reason is that education and health care are basic needs that marginalized children do not have.<br /><br />On the 15th of July, our group of Monash travellers visited the HUMANA branch located at Yogyakarta's Malioboro Street. Earlier on, those who did not bring gifts from Malaysia went to the nearby mall to purchase some small gifts for the children of HUMANA-sweets,biscuits and a basketball. At 4pm the group arrived at the HUMANA centre, to see the smilling (albeit nervous) faces of the children and teenagers greeting them. As the HUMANA children were rather shy, a short introduction session was held as an ice breaker. The children were then told to pick a Monash traveller and they led to a nearby schoolyard for the games session.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3O4Ad5nEY2e8hEduI4T7TlgrVlfyIepr8W2-eGi7Is6Ud-n3pvYBqEISMvPUzT_UqYpia6bChb2fDK0YIvA2URqww6PsOV6axJsnUhRIEK0Bg8B_PQbwr_DTx-o9blAC3HEFlz0bwAnM/s1600-h/DSC_0054.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3O4Ad5nEY2e8hEduI4T7TlgrVlfyIepr8W2-eGi7Is6Ud-n3pvYBqEISMvPUzT_UqYpia6bChb2fDK0YIvA2URqww6PsOV6axJsnUhRIEK0Bg8B_PQbwr_DTx-o9blAC3HEFlz0bwAnM/s320/DSC_0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903496143282082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">one of the many series of games we played with the children</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7Wb2A_Tvqe52xCyT33dgHa4O4R1nY4E36nNfZHpTR648nJzpkEVJukQqBxgIr5nAHg3onWqcob2SVCs4uY_PtGrLhy4xNUI2VrhbOSuNkR_k4o9Gicy-9P-Cn3SsKZCGyX-LT2SlNPE/s1600-h/DSC_0083.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7Wb2A_Tvqe52xCyT33dgHa4O4R1nY4E36nNfZHpTR648nJzpkEVJukQqBxgIr5nAHg3onWqcob2SVCs4uY_PtGrLhy4xNUI2VrhbOSuNkR_k4o9Gicy-9P-Cn3SsKZCGyX-LT2SlNPE/s320/DSC_0083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903515337110162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">After the ice-breaking session, the children were especially playful and cheeky</span><br /></div><br />During the intervals between the games we played, the Monash students chatted with the HUMANA children and discovered that most of the children were not orphans. Due to poverty and parents who are forced to work long hours, the children are sent to HUMANA during the day to play and study in a safe environment. Mr Presta, one of the facilitators at the centre works as the middle man between the underprivileged families of the neighbourhood and HUMANA. Being familiar with most residents in the neighbourhood, it is easier for him to act as the point of communication to approach the parents of the children he sees left unattended during the day to join the HUMANA centre. His role is also to help the underprivileged children in their homework and healthcare, but he is not meant to take over the role as a parent to these children. The children see him more as a friend than a parent.<br /><br />The presence of HUMANA helps prevent these children from becoming child labourers as Mr Presta and the other HUMANA facilitators make every effort to show the parents of the children the importance of education. When asked if there were any conflicts among the parents and HUMANA facilitators, Mr Presta proudly declares "so far, no". He explained that the HUMANA facilitators pay extra attention in maintaining the balance between the parents, the children and the organisation's intervention. He adds that HUMANA wants only "to help the children, ensure the human rights of the children and ensure their access to education and health care" and that they were careful not to create problems for the children by antagonizing their parents. To do this, he says it is sometimes best for HUMANA to keep a distance from the family dynamics of the children.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWA5eFkiG1LkdoiH7ue47wa_Btntu9vf9aM4G1VOYANAU8aoq3WLsuyWCogM6taEIgyRYyOJAi8EVtdCkD5y65HaBhV6SdGDnmQmYHqyAlIKMiCAGZAEn1H0M0O8BVjJ9RS7veQKMi_Q/s1600-h/DSC_0065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWA5eFkiG1LkdoiH7ue47wa_Btntu9vf9aM4G1VOYANAU8aoq3WLsuyWCogM6taEIgyRYyOJAi8EVtdCkD5y65HaBhV6SdGDnmQmYHqyAlIKMiCAGZAEn1H0M0O8BVjJ9RS7veQKMi_Q/s320/DSC_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903499720262210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Interview with HUMANA Facilitators<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1x-A09LLZBmmN4SsnMdJlJfimJIklY1LgwHE6qzMoUFvTb1QozKvmpBDc-6wYNLUuKlCPl0fjE47N0LvtarnJSqlaIHDbYI5VJk-ATxBuMjghE9EgtgGx8CYkFLL5eviFpzZ-lRyFzNI/s1600-h/DSC_0067.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1x-A09LLZBmmN4SsnMdJlJfimJIklY1LgwHE6qzMoUFvTb1QozKvmpBDc-6wYNLUuKlCPl0fjE47N0LvtarnJSqlaIHDbYI5VJk-ATxBuMjghE9EgtgGx8CYkFLL5eviFpzZ-lRyFzNI/s320/DSC_0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903508434199506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Mr. Presta and colleague</span><br /></div><br />HUMANA has a wide range of networks including links to the Swiss Embassy which provides a mobile clinic health care service for children who have no access to health care services. HUMANA also hands out scholarships to children until they are 18 years of age. Funds for HUMANA comes mainly from public donations.<br /><br />When asked if he had any regrets working for HUMANA, Mr Presta smiled and said "this is what I chose. I want to have a full time job taking care of these children. I have a happy family, I just want everyone else to have one too".<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiBXf7A0Eifv0PZQ9nP_UduHeQpu2LmTppHcIwPUalTPcINvB1wFeBYKWnLsUeMR1jKhlt_6zzTtu-uBfoVaXl2H6VVK9O2GZcP2rROc1xGK0BN2MfP6qByWAPZTx4D-kxJ4XC9KMDys/s1600-h/DSC_0099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiBXf7A0Eifv0PZQ9nP_UduHeQpu2LmTppHcIwPUalTPcINvB1wFeBYKWnLsUeMR1jKhlt_6zzTtu-uBfoVaXl2H6VVK9O2GZcP2rROc1xGK0BN2MfP6qByWAPZTx4D-kxJ4XC9KMDys/s320/DSC_0099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358903519107758450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Students and HUMANA</span><br /></div><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4314&id=1807550373&l=d442f99566">photo album</a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Wei Jia Xi or Cici, is studying Bachelor of Arts majoring in Communication. Coming from Chongqing, China, Cici loves to eat spicy food and has a particular interest in film and video recording. She is part of the video team, where she has learned new things, and feels thankful for having the opportunity to participate in this tripMonashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-16592158010499516572009-07-15T10:17:00.000-07:002009-07-15T22:08:04.442-07:00Gendhong Women of BeringharjoBy: Neneng Retna Kurnia<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br />Beringharjo, a market which I visited today is located in the heart of Yogyakarta on Malioboro street. The market three floors, each floor selling different goods.The first and second floor are filled up with accessories, jajanan (snacks), food staples like rice, spices, vegetables, and also clothes. The topmost floor is used as a kind of storage area, which sells products in bulk for the smaller stores. All this may make Beringharjo sound like a regular market, but there is something unique about Beringharjo-the gendhong women.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VFls3MhEmAkPtzGOF47X25OuBjNdA6-hwb2l-_vK5Py879V23SSRIE76UB5BqUapVP7VIO0jWFrZXonWf4x7y1bvOGPtX1ypCmEUxbONSM4bk3UlklrkbSRzL2XnFju76JnpoBux7LU/s1600-h/beringharjo+bridges+in+third+floor.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VFls3MhEmAkPtzGOF47X25OuBjNdA6-hwb2l-_vK5Py879V23SSRIE76UB5BqUapVP7VIO0jWFrZXonWf4x7y1bvOGPtX1ypCmEUxbONSM4bk3UlklrkbSRzL2XnFju76JnpoBux7LU/s320/beringharjo+bridges+in+third+floor.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358753037760332850" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Customers can ask one out of the many Gendhong women to carry their shopping</span><br /></div><br />On the third floor, I finally found a group of gendhong women, the group which I have been curious about ever since I was selected to write about them.Gendhong is a Javanese word meaning to carry something on the back.Based on my observation, one can only see this kind of women in Yogyakarta. The group of these women were chatting with each other on the bridge that links the North and South side of the market. Most of them are old women. Mbak Yatni, 34 years old, has already been working 22 years as a gendhong woman. With a typical Javanese face, brown skin and friendly smile, she shared some information about herself-like anyone else, she was willing to face hardship to make a living. In her mother's footstep, Mbak Yatni whose education ended in the elementary level decided to work as a gendhong woman to support her three children. Everyday, Mbak Yatni carries a variety of items on her back, such as food staples like rice or noodles. Each gendhong carrier has the capacity for 50lbs, and for each carrier load Mbak Yatni usually earns 1000 rupiah, or 10 American cents. Per day, she usually earns a total of 25,000-30,000 rupiah (around 2-3 dollars). It's hard work, especially since women are not physically built to carry heavy loads.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhuGH9_KrkS0yud81gaUu90YZlXfuFrYa0GMQjmr1KusPIEWIVjvyd_K16dLrI5-kK7hyhIjPCF9-A5IfZj0R9_1-P5TOHfpI62t0Ckd7A5xCMZIA8n7XOlwcfz2_eHgJGGooKknbIYA/s1600-h/DSC_0013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhuGH9_KrkS0yud81gaUu90YZlXfuFrYa0GMQjmr1KusPIEWIVjvyd_K16dLrI5-kK7hyhIjPCF9-A5IfZj0R9_1-P5TOHfpI62t0Ckd7A5xCMZIA8n7XOlwcfz2_eHgJGGooKknbIYA/s320/DSC_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358753041408367666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Gendhong women of Beringharjo</span><br /></div><br />When asked about her secret to being able to carry such heavy loads, Mbak Yatni confides that she drinks <span style="font-style: italic;">jamu</span> everyday, like the other older gendhong women. <span style="font-style: italic;">Jamu</span> or herbs is a traditional medicine from Indonesia. For Indonesians, <span style="font-style: italic;">jamu</span> is well known as an energy booster. <span style="font-style: italic;">Jamu</span> is also believed to be beneficial to ones health and beauty. However, the <span style="font-style: italic;">jamu</span> tradition is not popular among the younger generation of women.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQR_0QmBnG1W0qdylahIb0OlHxBvmstqAddJSy4nXdI63uCTblUKWgjxRfF3P5NdTqUL2rvJ4JhOeAJjqG76NK6caq43d7pQ8QtDqbZ9qRRpGLe2BMjdOx1QTnUwxLtaFQKPDrDtIc9c/s1600-h/mbak+yatni.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQR_0QmBnG1W0qdylahIb0OlHxBvmstqAddJSy4nXdI63uCTblUKWgjxRfF3P5NdTqUL2rvJ4JhOeAJjqG76NK6caq43d7pQ8QtDqbZ9qRRpGLe2BMjdOx1QTnUwxLtaFQKPDrDtIc9c/s320/mbak+yatni.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358753047056743218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Mbak Yatni telling her tale</span><br /></div><br />In another part of the market, there are three young energetic ladies who were carrying many packets of snacks on their back. I followed them to their destination, the Candi store where they work. With permission from their supervisors in the store, I was able to observe how these ladies work and to interview them. Hesti, 25 years old is the oldest among the three and she started working at the store six years ago. She is divorced with a child, and stopped her education in junior high school due to financial difficulties. Hesti introduced me to the youngest woman of the group, 17 year old Linda. All three earns approximately 400,000 rupiahs per month (around 40 USD). Asked about their hopes for the future, Hesti said she wanted to start up her own business while Linda hopes to continue her education when she has the necessary funds. Unlike the older generation of Gendhong women like Mbak Yatni, these young women do not credit their strength to jamu. Instead, they believe that they are naturally strong. Linda added that she has her strength from having sufficient sleep and eating regularly.<br /><br />These women's stories also indirectly reveal the fluidity of the construction of the ideal masculinity. As opposed to the general consensus that a man should support a woman financially, the men in these women's lives have no problem with them contributing financially. Mbak Yatni's husband is a becak driver (trishaw driver) and it could be possible that there is no resistance on his part in allowing Mbak Yatni to work because it is financially necessary for her to work. Financial neccessity could be the main contributor in modifying the notion of masculinity among these people.<br /><br />Observing their day, it seems to me life is unfair. These women have tough lives, with no opportunity to education, thus being unable to earn a higher income. Yet to my amazement, these Gendhong women do not complain, instead they are often seen smiling and helping each other good naturedly.<br /><br /><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Neneng Retna Kurnia is a final year student in Monash University Sunway Campus. She is pursuing Bachelor of Arts majoring in Communication and International Studies. She is an Indonesian who is mixed with two ethnics of Indonesia, <i>Bugis</i> and <i>Sunda</i>. From several group of NGOs to <span style="font-style: italic;">gendhong women</span>, she thinks that they all teach different knowledge on how to stand tall in this harmful world. </p>Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-75983372214509341252009-07-15T10:11:00.000-07:002009-07-16T19:54:44.905-07:00Street MuralsBy: Chong Jinn Wei<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br />He gets up before the sun even rises. Proceeding to an alleyway, he stares at a wall covered with filth and old propaganda posters. Taking out his brush, he begins his work. Hours later on that same wall, a colorful and uplifting piece of art brightens up the formerly dark and filthy alley. This is the product of a mural artist who spends time painting Yogyakarta, wall by wall, contributing to making the city the colorful place it is is today.<br /><br />The many street murals that can be seen all over the city are works that require blood, sweat and tears of mural artists in Yogyakarta. Seeing their completed works of art in broad daylight after spending a night or many nights working on it is extremely rewarding for these artists.<br /><br />In this study trip, I've had the privilege to meet and interview Pak Bambang, one of the many artists who draw murals which give Yogyakarta its colour. Pak Bambang currently works as a lecturer in ISI (Institute Seni Indonesia / The art Institute of Indonesia). He was also part of the now closed, Apotik Comics, a company which was active in mural painting and comic publishing. The style of the many murals he has painted are heavily influenced by his time at Apotik Comics as he structures some of his murals in a comic format. The tools that are mainly used to make these murals are wall paint, roof paint, brushes, long sticks and bamboo scaffolds.<br /><br />Pak Bambang explained the process of how these murals are made. First, he needs to plan what he wants to draw before actually painting at the site. Secondly, he asks for permission from the people around the area he has chosen by showing them what he wants to paint in their area. He then cleans the chosen wall and begins sketching the outline of his work. Later, he paints the walls with the corresponding colours. This process may take several days and require a lot help from other people before the product is finally completed.<br /><br />Drawing inspiration from his life experiences and current events from the television and newspapers, he draws art that acts as a parody and critique towards local events and issues. He explains that some of his murals required him to paint large structures like bridges. In such projects the use of bamboo scaffolds is necessary to reach places as high as 8 meters to paint the murals.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsrIllD63UDB1rJQBVqHogeBv4oCv01POQSCjM1_knGaoHN9p69lYEpwhXZ6fMnoJsF45UiddF20783GAQRY_3_GZpQE-WEkylFXcX8wpgxg2x4q4D2AGs9shjBDggbbXFhA4toLuiio/s1600-h/DSC09561.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsrIllD63UDB1rJQBVqHogeBv4oCv01POQSCjM1_knGaoHN9p69lYEpwhXZ6fMnoJsF45UiddF20783GAQRY_3_GZpQE-WEkylFXcX8wpgxg2x4q4D2AGs9shjBDggbbXFhA4toLuiio/s320/DSC09561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358906995370495074" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Street Murals that acts as a critique to social issues</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwgcegeKGZiENh6AtBWl0DK54QREZ59peShqppyDrwY6hyRXPSGJOjoKS8JP1UwzO9yy6bUnek3beQ3WZcGs8DtxbBMOSCdEHW8NIFWWs1rnvEqljzfGrK_cMiU-iWDJs-zb-x9IeSsI/s1600-h/DSC09626.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwgcegeKGZiENh6AtBWl0DK54QREZ59peShqppyDrwY6hyRXPSGJOjoKS8JP1UwzO9yy6bUnek3beQ3WZcGs8DtxbBMOSCdEHW8NIFWWs1rnvEqljzfGrK_cMiU-iWDJs-zb-x9IeSsI/s320/DSC09626.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358907010164441202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">'Lestarikan Budaya Jawa' (Save Javanese Culture)</span><br /><br /></div>His opinion on other artists who also create murals around the city is that their works may bestow the city with striking colours, but these works tend to lack meaningful messages. Pak Bambang strongly feels that murals should have an uplifting theme that relates to the people living in the particular neighborhood where it is drawn. For example, in the lead-up to 17 August th of August each year, during Indonesia's Independence Day, many artists will usually draw murals with colours that match the occasion, but Pak Bambang feels that these murals are nothing but superficial decoration which lack a meaningful message.<br /><br />There are times when Pak Bambang's murals are painted over by other artists. He feels sad and disappointed when he sees his artwork, a product of hardwork by him and his friends painted over by another mural or worse, defaced by graffiti.<br /><br />Pak bambang is just one of the many artists active in drawing murals and producing other artworks. His colourful and meaningful works have given life in the city of Yogyakarta that would have otherwise been at best plain and at worst ugly and dirty. Meaningful or not, these various colourful murals in tight corners, wall, shops gutters, bridges and underpasses have given Yogyakarta a unique characteristic.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqOicOAWroYXAoqhMX2olQMBPZi7sMZmatkZY50prV0cVpLzzKCtYeaTSPJ_EK0UW3oIY4w-0xzMOK-x9UYPbTVsvprNg-mh3EPo-cOdDkzJMv-4gqoT6HQo2tcCmielILFPIoQ8veko/s1600-h/DSC09569.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqOicOAWroYXAoqhMX2olQMBPZi7sMZmatkZY50prV0cVpLzzKCtYeaTSPJ_EK0UW3oIY4w-0xzMOK-x9UYPbTVsvprNg-mh3EPo-cOdDkzJMv-4gqoT6HQo2tcCmielILFPIoQ8veko/s320/DSC09569.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358906999323240706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Murals can be found all over the city</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFoVeHjxvX3hBA9YeOoN1gDEgR4FqF2-z32J79dm9vLokqV5oLvJFKIv4P3-gm-yrdfUIXDIIib5x9xqAgtqREcTBKBkvOtNXxQH1cOd8fxQ16wdJGr26nRh9S0OIFJtzHD8gnQ_cRuU/s1600-h/DSC09614.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFoVeHjxvX3hBA9YeOoN1gDEgR4FqF2-z32J79dm9vLokqV5oLvJFKIv4P3-gm-yrdfUIXDIIib5x9xqAgtqREcTBKBkvOtNXxQH1cOd8fxQ16wdJGr26nRh9S0OIFJtzHD8gnQ_cRuU/s320/DSC09614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358907007804932658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Murals are not just painted on walls- bridges and gutters around the city are colorfully painted </span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Jinn Wei is a Writing & Communication major from Malaysia. Intrigued when he read books and saw videos of the various street murals in Yogyakarta, Jinn Wei wondered whether there was a deeper meaning behind those murals other than being colourful and fancily designed. The fact that these murals which would have been labelled 'graffiti' in other places served the positive purpose of creating a colourful street atmosphere unique in Yogyakarta drew him to investigate more about them.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-78181820113205241262009-07-15T10:00:00.000-07:002009-07-15T21:33:35.536-07:00Waxing lyrical Batik style.By: Joanna Molloy<br /><br />15 July 2009<br /><br />Stepping foot on Malioboro, the main street and tourist drag in Yogyakarta, means being struck by the bedazzling array of Batik. Shops proclaim this to be the 'City of Batik', and I most definitely concur. Road-side stalls burst with colour as Batik is brazenly displayed anywhere and everywhere. It is all too easy to get caught up not only in the batik craze, but also in a pattern of consumption. First you are bargaining for a batik patch-work shoulder bag, and all too soon you find yourself laden with piles of intricately detailed cloth, eight bangles, a pair of flip-flops and five of the bags you initially wished to acquire (friend, friend, sister, friend, self). The most standard rule of fashion- to wear no more than one pattern simultaneously- is mercilessly abandoned as locals and tourists alike swathe themselves in this brightly patterned cloth..<br /><br />Wandering along the colourful streets, I began to wonder how a textile had become so prolific; what could batik really means to this city? Yogyakarta offers a wide array of Batik: machine produced for the masses, finer handmade versions for the more discerning customer and Batik fine art for a select few. I mused over what role this textile played in Yogyakarta, not only culturally, but also in economic, traditional and social terms.<br /><br />In this search, four students from the Monash team, accompanied by our charming student guide Ike, went on a journey to discover more about Yogyakartan Batik. We found ourselves once again in the <span style="font-style: italic;">Muhammadiyah</span> Muslim community- Kampung Kauman. Teguh Ariebowo and his Father Lukman Jamali, an acclaimed Batik artist, took us on a journey to discover the real Yogyakartan batik. In the early days, Batik was of immense importance to Kauman when the majority of the community made batik for personal use, and some also made this their business. Today, Ariebowo's house is alone in Batik creation in Kauman. The decline in production and demand for handmade batik may be attributed to industrialization, outsourcing and unbeatable prices of factory produced fabric. However, there remains a market in which creativity, quality and skill remain competitive-within the fine art world.<br /><br />We were privileged to be taught Batik by a master: Lukman is a renowned batik artist who not only exhibits in Indonesia, but also internationally. He has exhibited in the Netherlands and has a considerable client-base in Europe. Lukman studied at the Insitute Seni Indonesia in Yogyakarta within the sculpture department. As the institute did not offer a specific Batik art course, he independently adapted his skills to the traditional medium. His art appears Surrealist with the repeated motif of a mask, and it is not surprising to hear of his passion for the Dutch surrealist M. C. Escher. Lukman's works have greater popularity with a foreign market who may identify with his designs through a western framework of art interpretation as they are aesthetically familiar.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE0l6AChmJaUkW2pNejUJs3AMoKUD-Y2bc8VnOwiHF8SRKl-JWOXw7NeGfMvnwvZqc8PM-9AvXB1k_IxA12PaSDAkSZkMHAJkmJbaE3Q_-eS9ZTOVyZYyzUhBDP6rONZk5g84vrA6i7E/s1600-h/DSC00297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcE0l6AChmJaUkW2pNejUJs3AMoKUD-Y2bc8VnOwiHF8SRKl-JWOXw7NeGfMvnwvZqc8PM-9AvXB1k_IxA12PaSDAkSZkMHAJkmJbaE3Q_-eS9ZTOVyZYyzUhBDP6rONZk5g84vrA6i7E/s320/DSC00297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358734753775483618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Lukman Jamali, world renown batik artst</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmRaZdIB8WCPn0ofa2GzkFx3e-I5M1LhvAYNl2h7n9kctsl6xXtvuqbZQQv37bM8u4kAMOlmdEMYE7Gl_g285vYpv2hJqEz8_b4P1pAJAHNVRiA7FsALhhxm9ea1WoW2FNyWBuzwvwzo/s1600-h/jo.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmRaZdIB8WCPn0ofa2GzkFx3e-I5M1LhvAYNl2h7n9kctsl6xXtvuqbZQQv37bM8u4kAMOlmdEMYE7Gl_g285vYpv2hJqEz8_b4P1pAJAHNVRiA7FsALhhxm9ea1WoW2FNyWBuzwvwzo/s320/jo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358910961479414066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Pak Lukman has a particular interest in painting dragons</span><br /></div><br />Ariebowo took us through the steps to make our own first batik. We began by sketching our design on a piece of cotton. The canting, a traditional tool was then introduced to us. With this we applied melted wax to the areas of our design we wished to remain white, as Batik is a resist-dyeing process. This proved to be remarkably fiddly and at times messy, leading us to further appreciate handmade batik and understand the higher prices requested. After we had drawn our designs to the best of our abilities (and managed to make a rather impressive wax design on the tile floor), our colourful desires were unleashed.. We sponged the powder based, acidic dye on our cotton and waited in keen anticipation for the sun to work its magic, exposing the dye to create vivid colours. Once our fabric was suitably bright, we boiled and washed it to expose our finished batik designs.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5nuipMe2jqoCemBxXF5BZE_pGISd5wryPwecYK-Mcfp5Jh-1znGzpAFlGhJhm5G7zJxjIpbHo43FToQisuhB_zl-gFUteIJjNPC85ln_T-NUQR16SuJGGNap1uHnLy4bLmDtjMgGD74/s1600-h/DSC00320.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5nuipMe2jqoCemBxXF5BZE_pGISd5wryPwecYK-Mcfp5Jh-1znGzpAFlGhJhm5G7zJxjIpbHo43FToQisuhB_zl-gFUteIJjNPC85ln_T-NUQR16SuJGGNap1uHnLy4bLmDtjMgGD74/s320/DSC00320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358734754650109346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The canting- the essential tool in batik making<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_LpOC2ImkhhjzmZ1MxP9l1m6Qsl13RD8l5bGr3m8xTgFuiOrZF8b5-fDuUA9MaieywlHgoMlgLQ0mNUtuIbJ8YKOiAgNMU6cZPNFZAkwJq5U2XpYPAJLv5KH0_eDUjnmVU9S5ECm6LQ/s1600-h/DSC00328.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_LpOC2ImkhhjzmZ1MxP9l1m6Qsl13RD8l5bGr3m8xTgFuiOrZF8b5-fDuUA9MaieywlHgoMlgLQ0mNUtuIbJ8YKOiAgNMU6cZPNFZAkwJq5U2XpYPAJLv5KH0_eDUjnmVU9S5ECm6LQ/s320/DSC00328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358734760754904274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Designing the pattern<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseEomR4KFbhIGZVGwHDTnu7uEu5bwghDbB1_nC5Q0SgYS0DWhOJ8dl6kH0KQvn187tjrt5PpE2Y6leL-_eHWW7ToLXao0EFtD00YJzTfWRBp62jIJWN26kHObxA8mu07jqQnMS1tEeZU/s1600-h/DSC00337.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseEomR4KFbhIGZVGwHDTnu7uEu5bwghDbB1_nC5Q0SgYS0DWhOJ8dl6kH0KQvn187tjrt5PpE2Y6leL-_eHWW7ToLXao0EFtD00YJzTfWRBp62jIJWN26kHObxA8mu07jqQnMS1tEeZU/s320/DSC00337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358734766866978834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The last procedure of batik making; the wash</span><br /></div><br />Although the motifs we used were not traditional, and our art does not fit the conventional understanding of the Batik aesthetic, we did move closer to an understanding of the famous textile. Ariebowo and Lukman showed us that the process and the journey are all important. The mass-produced machine made versions are in our hosts perspective, “not real batik”. Through our investigations and brief foray into design, we became closer to true Yogyakartan batik, than we ever will at the stalls on Malioboro street.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9WRJ00Ecy8RdVQJhn3LOgyPhjzcVYWCpN0pfhRWuTe9VzhcIEmdTURdJU57z0faVa9A3_4EPPCNgssqiHyqyYGcNO0BGj7Q_x1sevL_V6fLClGWo-zSyPu5tjSb6lE8x-TKoLy-FT6I/s1600-h/DSC00397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9WRJ00Ecy8RdVQJhn3LOgyPhjzcVYWCpN0pfhRWuTe9VzhcIEmdTURdJU57z0faVa9A3_4EPPCNgssqiHyqyYGcNO0BGj7Q_x1sevL_V6fLClGWo-zSyPu5tjSb6lE8x-TKoLy-FT6I/s320/DSC00397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358734770865665698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">With Ariebowo at Kauman after the session with his father</span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Joanna Molloy hails from Melbourne, Australia and has recently completed a semester of exchange at Monash Sunway, Malaysia. After Yogyakarta, she will embark on another adventure in Italy, completing her Italian major at L'Universita' di Bologna. Textiles send quivers of joy right through her body meaning this Batik rich Yogyakarta trip has been an entirely exhilarating experience.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-68077011251282516442009-07-14T23:18:00.000-07:002009-07-17T00:06:20.209-07:00Diary Entry : Day 6By: Paulista Bunga Surjadi<br /><br />14 July 2009<br /><br />After a nice walkabout the last two days, I was dreading the fact that we were going to ride on a bus for hours. Little did I know that the journey would be short, what we were about to see and experience was totally worth the ride and the energy.<br /><br />Our journey started at about 9am as we made our way to our first destination, the Kraton,or the Sultan's Palace. The palace is just around the corner from our hotel. Passing by Alun- Alun Selatan, a part of the Kraton compound made me realize how the area looked so different during the day as compared to the previous time we saw it during the night. The area was generally quiet and not bustling with activity compared to the crowds and peddlars crowding the area during the nights.<br /><br />As we entered the Kraton's main gate we were greeted by two Gupalas, two statues made from stone, the guardians of the palace. There are two Gupalas, both on the left and right side of the gate because the Javanese people believe that for there are always two sides to a story, the bad and the good. Hence, upon approaching the main gate, one can see the Gupala symbolizing goodness on the left and that which symbolizes evil is on the left . The Kraton has seven main areas,catered for different purposes, ranging from meeting places to warehouse . In the main complex of the Kraton, known as the Kedhaton there are quite a few major places including Gedung Kuning (The Yellow House), the place where the current Sultan Hamengku Buwono X resides and Proboyakso, the place with a wooden wall used as a warehouse to keep royal heirlooms and sacred weapons. Next, still within Kedhaton, we visited Bangsal Manis literally meaning 'Sweet Pavilion'. This is where the royal family serve their meals during a party or a function.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6zZ7OJNCCZU6soAaU6WArYV7koNPmR6HsP1ENfDLL38lYHysyYQRtZ2Arx4XpNuCb7GOLG28hw_0RrNB9YJZfYbcAI7gfiEC4DqCA5eMHpGky8g5jee6LxGElpqp3aPCZZw9qiNKCco/s1600-h/pic+1+a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6zZ7OJNCCZU6soAaU6WArYV7koNPmR6HsP1ENfDLL38lYHysyYQRtZ2Arx4XpNuCb7GOLG28hw_0RrNB9YJZfYbcAI7gfiEC4DqCA5eMHpGky8g5jee6LxGElpqp3aPCZZw9qiNKCco/s320/pic+1+a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358570193809727634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Kraton gate</span><br /><br /></div>We continued our exploration inside the Kraton with a visit to the museum dedicated to Sultan Hamengku Buwono IX. The museum houses a lot of his personal belongings, awards, and pictures to be used as a constant reminder of the Sultan's contribution to the people of Indonesia.<br /><br />One thing about the Kraton that really grabbed my attention was the fact that all motifs and figures have some philosophical meaning attached to them. Where they may look simple physically, each one of them is significant. Even the name of the Sultan himself has significant connotations. The name 'Hamengku Buwono' comes from Javanese language where 'hamengku' means on the lap and 'buwono' means the world. Altogether, Sultan Hamengku Buwono suggests that the world is metaphorically on the Sultan's lap.<br /><br />Our short visit to the Keraton ended with the mystical sounds of the Gamelan ensemble entertaining the palace's visitor in the pavilion on our way out.<br /><br />It was around 11am when we were supposed to continue our journey to another area of the Keraton, known as the Taman Sari (Water Castle) but due to the fact that many of us were hungry, we decided to give this place a miss and head for lunch near the biggest shopping mall here in Yogyakarta, Ambarukmo Plaza.<br /><br />After we had a nice lunch, we walked over to the mall for a quick exploration before embarking upon our next destination, the Prambanan Temple area for a tour of the area and also to watch the most-anticipated Ramayana Ballet performance. In the mall, some of us sat down and enjoyed the delights of Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts while the others roamed the mall and did a little shopping for snacks and other things.<br /><br />We reached the Prambanan Temple compound by 3pm greeted by a nice weather. Although there were significantly less visitors to this temple as compared to Borobudur, it does not mean that Prambanan is any less magnificent in its architecture, history and breath-taking view. In fact, most of us were happy moving around in the spacious area with members of the video team and the alumni shooting short clips utilizing the vast amount of space.<br /><br />The temple was damaged during the 2006 earthquake in Yogyakarta and restoration work was still in-progress within the inner zone. Three out of six shrines in the inner zone are dedicated to the Trimurti( 'three forms') Shiva, Brahma, and Vishnu and the other three are dedicated to the vehicles of the respective gods, Nandi, Hamsa, and Garuda.<br /><br />We did not hire a guide during this visit and explored the place individually reading the notes available in front of the various structures. The video and photography crew has a great time taking in the beautiful view and posing for different jumping shots at the vast amount of space available.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5vqgZLImkSRpn2tXmd91ntatbNpfpL1g0_kQRK1qsfjBZtyIWCLMH6AJSBdu9cjuHbKV98_N3ZEZz5vuX1B2Ms5bWal-ZQ1ijZKft2HHtlIQdvZnXAWxD3Bvew12O2Qtf8dlMHxP-Hc/s1600-h/pic+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5vqgZLImkSRpn2tXmd91ntatbNpfpL1g0_kQRK1qsfjBZtyIWCLMH6AJSBdu9cjuHbKV98_N3ZEZz5vuX1B2Ms5bWal-ZQ1ijZKft2HHtlIQdvZnXAWxD3Bvew12O2Qtf8dlMHxP-Hc/s320/pic+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358570205316134754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Our favorite jumping shot with Prambanan as the background</span><br /></div><br />While waiting for the Ramayana Ballet to begin, we settled for dinner at the beautiful Prambanan Restaurant. Admittedly, I entered the restaurant with indifference about the location of our dinner venue but I was in complete awe, staring at the most breath-taking view ever, as we stared out at the Prambanan Temple filling the landscape of the foreground. The romantic scenery prompted one of the travelers to consider it as a potential venue for her future wedding ceremony. After the sun set, we found ourselves sitting under an open starry sky, enjoying dinner, sipping ginger tea, and found it hard to avert our gaze from the majestic view of the Prambanan Temple.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdzoRCW4IPpO8TPVVIfKD-Cpn66tJD5sPexVo7Q-mG0ApsdHcrBlvc5_FlhlLU7dRTrO8dbTcJGl7yL93xf_pU6ydjeYydgrs1msmVr8HkZXQnrrVOmhzs4brggjFCby-PkxTMlnMZGA/s1600-h/pic+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdzoRCW4IPpO8TPVVIfKD-Cpn66tJD5sPexVo7Q-mG0ApsdHcrBlvc5_FlhlLU7dRTrO8dbTcJGl7yL93xf_pU6ydjeYydgrs1msmVr8HkZXQnrrVOmhzs4brggjFCby-PkxTMlnMZGA/s320/pic+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358570211707892386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Delicious meal and beautiful background.. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsYCGq-Uy1AXBi3WRAkUhrn4Ba6AT4aDoFef20uZKk8B8s_hlbTGlscSDF8HUXAJ7vdcPNKwOM2NWH2Oa7lhcK5N9Ue8FDBxExvTxpt5J_1_QIyqnU1H-SJU7aj5HJc_Kx_zQ4CAwINA/s1600-h/pic+7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsYCGq-Uy1AXBi3WRAkUhrn4Ba6AT4aDoFef20uZKk8B8s_hlbTGlscSDF8HUXAJ7vdcPNKwOM2NWH2Oa7lhcK5N9Ue8FDBxExvTxpt5J_1_QIyqnU1H-SJU7aj5HJc_Kx_zQ4CAwINA/s320/pic+7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358570210231253218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The majestic view of Prambanan at night</span><br /></div><br />Soon after, it was time to head to the open-air theater for the Ramayana Ballet. We equipped ourselves with a bit of background information provided by the synopsis of the Ramayana epic provided at the entrance. Two of our lucky travelers, Rachel, who was doing a write-up exclusively for our visit to the Prambanan Temple and Jinn Wei, a member of the video team had an opportunity to interview some of the performers of the ballet before the show commenced. We were greeted with soothing music at the ballet's beginning and as the story unraveled, everyone was in awe of the splash of colors and costumes. The gentle dance movements continued to capture the audience's attention as they told the story of the great Ramayana epic in sequence.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZSYlHQ257h4NP36tEZkT_jQQz6eKIVgFWpjGv3YsR-C46_TVt63mIpXDAV7vcNUWCZXMKkmK6LduvK78EdjjUmIRz7u32xxTGCLHYx37F7Up98XKF7TzvZhHkoNedxZNpjVDp-yJu4c/s1600-h/pic+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZSYlHQ257h4NP36tEZkT_jQQz6eKIVgFWpjGv3YsR-C46_TVt63mIpXDAV7vcNUWCZXMKkmK6LduvK78EdjjUmIRz7u32xxTGCLHYx37F7Up98XKF7TzvZhHkoNedxZNpjVDp-yJu4c/s320/pic+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358572286957858594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Performers at the Ramayana Ballet</span><br /></div><br />It was the last night in Yogyakarta for our 2 alumni travellers, Aron and Eunice. They managed to present a short speech in the bus on the way home, telling us about the good time they had. We truly enjoyed their company and contribution and wished them a safe flight back to Kuala Lumpur .<br /><br />It is now 3 am as I write the conclusion to this diary entry. Aching muscles and droopy eyelids prove to have been worthy for a fact, documenting the great day that we had today. I will always remember today's sightseeing trip as one of the very best.<br /><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4278&id=1807550373&l=161d6901b5">photo album</a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Paulista is pursuing her final year in Bachelor of Arts. She transferred from Monash College, Jakarta last year and is among one of the Indonesian students in this trip. Although having been raised in Jakarta, Paulista has been exposed to the cultures of other regions of Indonesia, and admits that she would rather pick spicy or salty foods over sweet ones.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-65843435817473835192009-07-14T23:08:00.000-07:002009-07-15T00:03:09.726-07:00Sightseeing Prambanan... Storytelling RamayanaBy: Rachel Lai<br /><br />14 July 2009<br /><br />There's never a clear line between mythology and reasoning when it comes to basic human understandings. When we question the unknown, there seem to be this indefinite need to include some form of logic that circulates what we were taught to believe is real. The Prambanan Hindu Temple is precisely one of those mysteries of undefined history.<br /><br />It was said to be constructed during the Sanjaya Dynasty around the 9th Century to represent the role of Hinduism within the Java Province. However, one can't help but question the possibilities to its construction given the preconception of mankind's primitiveness during that era. Hence, a folklore was passed down through generations to describe a love-tale between Bandung Bondowoso and Roro Jonggrang that had contributed to the temple's existence. It was believed that Bondowoso had used the force of spirits to build 999 temples for the princess within 24 hours upon request. Jonggrang's attempt of refusing his love had left her in a curse to be the 1,000th temple, whereby it is now believed to be within the highest temple, Shiva (Nandi).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgygi_jxDCL2apy39pypGykFovwwJ82QfK4MW5fuDfaJy3N8KFw7zQDVGW5URlHyQedMiEV6A7PTY8JwLfTswagh1EmamZ1T9OsWVfhdUDCMJ5tTqKrZ4Q031Mf1UgWfuM-O3hM-qFXSLs/s1600-h/DSC_0397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgygi_jxDCL2apy39pypGykFovwwJ82QfK4MW5fuDfaJy3N8KFw7zQDVGW5URlHyQedMiEV6A7PTY8JwLfTswagh1EmamZ1T9OsWVfhdUDCMJ5tTqKrZ4Q031Mf1UgWfuM-O3hM-qFXSLs/s320/DSC_0397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358565889005894626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Candi Prambanan by day<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzho5QF_rA-X3___mCGCxi1vOWsWot9Z7-N9hDUhOwwLv8Vv1YrXrwY70zALkaSB_PUpmaTLISMTjwXCUwnI4UnRHHmDgeasputlvKbxsGIM7A2fkGd84Bkoc6NSfPJAwA8a-n-RoBSE/s1600-h/DSC_0438.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzho5QF_rA-X3___mCGCxi1vOWsWot9Z7-N9hDUhOwwLv8Vv1YrXrwY70zALkaSB_PUpmaTLISMTjwXCUwnI4UnRHHmDgeasputlvKbxsGIM7A2fkGd84Bkoc6NSfPJAwA8a-n-RoBSE/s320/DSC_0438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358565889229958402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Candi Prambanan by night</span><br /></div><br />Today, visitors will notice 6 main structures in the main yard consisting of the Brahma(Angsa), Shiva and Vishnu(Garuda) temples. Unfortunately, the present view of the temple has certainly changed from what it was 3 years ago due to the earthquake tragedy in 2006 that had shattered parts of the ancient temple.<br /><br />The heavy chattering noises from the crowd was suddenly replaced by a sudden silence, with the echoes of the <span style="font-style: italic;">'gamelan' </span>(traditional Indonesian music) melody playing from a distance.It is absolutely heartbreaking as you enter the park, only to see stacked up stones everywhere that had been preserved from the destruction. Amidst the mixed feelings of amazement and disappointment, the Prambanan remained beautifully positioned in a serene ambient.<br /><br />Only 2 of the temples were accessible, while the rest remain bounded behind barriers due to restoration processes. The visitors were not only intrigued by the monuments, but were also taking photographs of the working progress by the local workers. They were attending to the Vishnu Temple by carefully sliding the stones down through wood panels onto the rubber tires on the ground. Along the exit area comes another painful view of damaged but neatly piled up stones around, whereby it makes it hard to imagine how long it will take to reconstruct history.<br /><br />While some people stood and sat in silence within the corners, staring away into the calmness of the space, others found a special interest in capturing the moment in different ways. It was interesting to note how most of the visitors became so engrossed in their photograph and video sessions. Perhaps it was the symmetrical beauty of the place that had resulted to desirable image shots.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxVcXiCbE2u2g5VGDOdDAtq8u6_or6SrY0VcBrASv9V-b34zs0qFLdwWXe8LqUzPEhIjCK9C7fR5RTVmyPm6nH3ifrLPOB5fbCyjAsaxU3nesID7F4EF8wCxJpm3xT9qA8xgA_6JuK24/s1600-h/DSC_0328.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxVcXiCbE2u2g5VGDOdDAtq8u6_or6SrY0VcBrASv9V-b34zs0qFLdwWXe8LqUzPEhIjCK9C7fR5RTVmyPm6nH3ifrLPOB5fbCyjAsaxU3nesID7F4EF8wCxJpm3xT9qA8xgA_6JuK24/s320/DSC_0328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358565883701690114" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">students engrossed in their own photo sessions</span><br /></div><br />The Monash crew took the opportunity to film short videos with Shazwan as the voluntary superstar, expressing some form of reminiscence to the Garuda Temple. The other directions showed some of the tourists posing away for photo shots in funny imitations of the Hindu Gods. It was evident that the undeniable beauty of the area had magically enticed these people to record the unforgettable experience of being there.<br /><br />The Prambanan's architecture show carvings which depicts the tale of the legendary Ramayana. Thus, most of the temple visitors tend to take interest in the Ramayana Ballet performance, which is held in the Prambanan Temple Tourist Complex that overlooks the back view of the Prambanan. The spacious stage is designed with a mimic of the Hindu architecture as well as the Shiva temple as an almost perfect backdrop. The Ramayana tale has been a popular story-telling favourite that has been passed down from generations. The story revolves around the love between Dewi Shinta and Rama Wijaya that was conflicted with the evil forces of Rahwana who wanted to break the relationship. Rahwana's evil intentions brought upon a range of other misfortunes between various characthers like Jatayu, Hanoman and Subali. These chronological events are presented on stage by the performers through a collaboration of drama (role characterizations), dance (delicate and refined body movements) and music (gamelan) choreographies.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87Nxo027605fx4TXdJyhPvRBHkKXPx7eU46i47ZcdWftpqkw1OCMJGrywbUPfPkpqFc6z5fVQWRwzq4UMs5xFEzsC7GyBgzOFMPl8B7rrp5onon9HRvld1o6mIxNghbR7YrYO-n_ITWE/s1600-h/DSC_0500.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87Nxo027605fx4TXdJyhPvRBHkKXPx7eU46i47ZcdWftpqkw1OCMJGrywbUPfPkpqFc6z5fVQWRwzq4UMs5xFEzsC7GyBgzOFMPl8B7rrp5onon9HRvld1o6mIxNghbR7YrYO-n_ITWE/s320/DSC_0500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358565894761955506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Ramayana Ballet stage with a view of the Prambanan temple</span><br /></div><br />The Monash team was fortunate enough to gain a special access to the backstage which had allowed a preview to the preparation process by some of the performers. Entering the room filled with women who were busy putting on make-up was certainly intimidating for a non-formal interview session. Nevertheless, a few of them had managed to share their pride in being a part of the Ramayana performing crew. Apparently, most of the dancers are usually spotted for their talent from Sekolah Menengah Karawitan as well as the Institute Seni Indonesia (ISI) by the director. Some of them expressed that when they are on stage, they want to satisfy the audience by giving their best performance because it is a way of introducing their theatre culture to the people. This motivation perpetuates them to participate in workshops during the day, whereby they attempt to teach interested individuals the art of the Ramayana dance. What was interesting about these experienced performers was that they've reached a point where they don't necessarily need rehearsals. All they have to do is to come in and prepare themselves into their costumes before show time.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFRXQ5CkesudPlmo5M1jqHoJv9hRqXeoZDuiiTEePbq94_jWNlSKGu29ViQPMaF2sgBtM7H0rzlZj32lrhrKZM2vaIHfI8MdEGGqw356lAquqcQF2PoXBPwF4LKKMlX96LGV8J2GLC5k/s1600-h/DSC_0519.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFRXQ5CkesudPlmo5M1jqHoJv9hRqXeoZDuiiTEePbq94_jWNlSKGu29ViQPMaF2sgBtM7H0rzlZj32lrhrKZM2vaIHfI8MdEGGqw356lAquqcQF2PoXBPwF4LKKMlX96LGV8J2GLC5k/s320/DSC_0519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358565899430917698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Performers in the first part of the ballet</span><br /></div><br />It is no suprise that the Javanese culture takes honour in the beautiful Ramayana show. The grand performance has an unspoken effect on its audience, especially when the Prambanan Temple is visible from a distance. Though the show may be an elaborated and an expensive one, it is simply one of those investment that is worthwhile. The combination of the Prambanan sightseeing through the day and the Ramayana during the night provides a complete experience into the Javanese art and culture that mirrors the essence of Hinduism.<br /><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4278&id=1807550373&l=161d6901b5">photo album</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Rachel Lai is a Malaysian currently pursuing her FINAL year in Bachelor of Arts (majoring in International Studies and Communications) in Monash University Malaysia. A passionate day-dreamer addicted to exploration, she believes that there is nothing in this world that should stop us from fulfilling our dreams.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-66358477385012248792009-07-14T23:07:00.000-07:002009-07-15T00:06:59.810-07:00Sightseeing KratonBy: Abeer Yusuf<br /><br />14 July 2009<br /><br />Our visit to Kraton, like any other tourist attraction, started with an impressive line of souvenir stalls and persuasive peddlers. Our 6th day in Yogyakarta, was dedicated entirely to doing 'the tourist thing'.<br /><br />The first thing you notice about Kraton, the Sultan's Palace, is how massive it is, yet how the vibe of minimalism and not opulence runs through you. Sprawling far and wide and divided into 7 parts, never once are you overcome by the simplistic grandeur of the premises, yet surprisingly pleased with the calming effect of the whitewashed walls.<br /><br />I must admit, my own preconception of Kraton was that it would be a fancy place, gilded walls with gold lavatories and whatnot, but I was more than satisfied when I saw the same down-to-earth-ness reflected in the palace grounds as in the people of the city.<br /><br />Rini, our guide for the day, led us from the 1st part outside for coronations, to the 2nd part (which was where we met her) to the 3rd which is a waiting hall and where the gamelan (traditional Javanese music) is played every Sunday. The 4th part was still under reparation, as it had been badly damaged during the 2006 earthquake, so it was from the 5th till the 7th part in which we really understood the Kraton and its entirety. The first thing that greets you as you make your way into the Kraton is a pair of giant gupalas, monstrous looking statues which are said to be the guardians of the entrance. One statue represents all that is good, while the other represents all that is bad. The reason why both good and bad are represented is to display basic human nature, which includes both, the power of good and evil. Throughout the tour, we were informed about many deep symbolisms around the palace's elements. One that got everyone's attention was the intelligent way in which the Javanese year 1853 was 'written'. In Bangsal Manis, the dining area, one can find 2 red snakes with heads moving in opposite directions. Closer inspection (and a guide's help) will tell you that the swirls add up to the number 8, the crown atop the snakes represents the number 1, the face of Ravana represents the number 5 (because it is believed that every bad person has 5 characteristics, which include promiscuity, theft, alcoholism, and drugs)and the leech on the face number 3, all of which very conveniently adds up to 1853.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThdEzIx324iLjjLmkQfAYSgt7dpUJctvzzLS7pah1eXQiLU0EfZ6D4blQwHKED8YK3ASS66_qUILVKc8JcwEIYoUotXc0mn6KBJC6vkda7U8QaIkhm4-MivYRmOg-sXKOUe5lB_SdfoI/s1600-h/DSC_0195.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThdEzIx324iLjjLmkQfAYSgt7dpUJctvzzLS7pah1eXQiLU0EfZ6D4blQwHKED8YK3ASS66_qUILVKc8JcwEIYoUotXc0mn6KBJC6vkda7U8QaIkhm4-MivYRmOg-sXKOUe5lB_SdfoI/s320/DSC_0195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358559994645727506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Gamelan music playing softly in the background</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt6ouEuhFurR9TBL5u5z2lkTBzSrhfxBy5Wtj3cIRp5AlBqVedh8q1QjV6pZUrlTqfrOA_SUbSy_WYTsx57KhN6MwI4rhZUk9j0zIgL1qt6EDVCrQDXvQsxFI774Gcy4DYt9L2jpDJ1i0/s1600-h/DSC_0075.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt6ouEuhFurR9TBL5u5z2lkTBzSrhfxBy5Wtj3cIRp5AlBqVedh8q1QjV6pZUrlTqfrOA_SUbSy_WYTsx57KhN6MwI4rhZUk9j0zIgL1qt6EDVCrQDXvQsxFI774Gcy4DYt9L2jpDJ1i0/s320/DSC_0075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358559977412131714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The snakes at Bangsal Manis, representing number 1</span> </div><br />Yet another set of 'signs' was shown to us by our guide when she was leading us to the 6th part of the palace- the male and female residences. As per rule, as soon as the royal children reach the age of 17, they are separated into girls'(<span style="font-style: italic;">“keputrian”</span>) and boys'(<span style="font-style: italic;">“kesatrian”</span>) quarters, and what better way to show that than to use 2 dragons, one male the other female, both looking away but intertwined, to deliver this message? Ingenious I tell you.<br /><br />Besides that, we all got a chance to look at various 'bangsals'- pavilions. Among them was Bangsal Kotak, where dancers wait in line before performing in front of the Sultan, another was Bangsal Mandolo Sono, where the Sultan listens to various types of music and most importantly, the Bangsal Pochono, where any type of important ceremony, from Muslim religious festivals to the receiving of official dignitaries, weddings and deaths are held.<br /><br />Finally, we were led into a museum holding the previous Prince's, Sri Sultan Hamengku Buwono IX's vast memorabilia. There, we discovered, in our search of Yogyakarta, another interesting fact that set Yogyakarta apart from all other Indonesian cities.In 1945, the first President of Indonesia, President Sukarno passed a decree that allowed the reigning Sultan to simultaneously be the Governer. Many students also giggled at a cage-like playpen for young royals, while admiring intricate artwork on various sedan chairs made for the royals.<br /><br />Our trip was filled with many bits of interesting information; for example, older abdi dalams (servants of the Sultan) who help out with the Dutch tourists, since most of them are quite fluent in Dutch. Another thing we were told was that there are distinguishing features in terms of the length of service to the Sultan where abdi dalams who have been working for 3 years or less are not allowed to wear a kris, a traditional weapon, though the senior members of staff are often seen wearing them tucked on the backs of their sarongs. Also, the current Sultan Hamengku Buwono X, has only one wife and no sons (only 5 daughters), a stark comparison to his father, Sultan Hamengkubuwono the IX, who had 5 wives. Still, that is not half as shocking as when we found out that Sultan Hamengku Buwono VIII, had 8 wives and 42 children through the genealogy showcased in the museum.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-efeJcA6tG-xA-ir2jJEOlJcgCYp4Hu08rFnp3ZrbOAK6KQ_qRB14AbgT7S5KedCoD4wRsGajMGLJ8FNCvINY6kU20mtq25ZCvtEXSyonbEdofyjvqbqXjdNcyhr9Hd4N1-UfrQK4ww/s1600-h/DSC_0105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-efeJcA6tG-xA-ir2jJEOlJcgCYp4Hu08rFnp3ZrbOAK6KQ_qRB14AbgT7S5KedCoD4wRsGajMGLJ8FNCvINY6kU20mtq25ZCvtEXSyonbEdofyjvqbqXjdNcyhr9Hd4N1-UfrQK4ww/s320/DSC_0105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358559979927090562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Posing with two Abdi Dalams (royal servants)</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMWLlaSeU3BGUXRKmQHVOh8e9HtH-OEIBpoKN_Vz4vBEqOvSZb6P20Ydn_kpiiqEfnUTh3hw1PlK6aq9R4Xi42VbO1KRQl0p4b9xOVJuhMvsIUf58woHqG-sgOJGBcC74WUk2CR85Jw0/s1600-h/DSC_0156.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMWLlaSeU3BGUXRKmQHVOh8e9HtH-OEIBpoKN_Vz4vBEqOvSZb6P20Ydn_kpiiqEfnUTh3hw1PlK6aq9R4Xi42VbO1KRQl0p4b9xOVJuhMvsIUf58woHqG-sgOJGBcC74WUk2CR85Jw0/s320/DSC_0156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358559991154674018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Being an Abdi Dalam is considered an honour</span><br /></div><br />All in all, it was a fantastic lesson in Javanese culture, insight into the royal life behind the walls of Yogyakarta's palace and further evidence of the simplicity of the people of Yogyakarta. We were also intriguied that the ground one walks upon in the Palace is actually soil brought in from Mount Merapi, the active volcano in the Yogyakarta.<br /><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4278&id=1807550373&l=161d6901b5">photo album</a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Abeer is pursuing Writing and International Studies at Monash University Sunway Campus. Being especially talkactive and chatty, Abeer is also part of the blog team that is in charge of this blog and In Search of Yogyakarta's facebook.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-85768873976433220542009-07-14T23:03:00.000-07:002009-07-15T21:46:38.231-07:00Yogyakarta Nightlife: Back on The Streets AgainBy: Rashaad Ali<br /><br />14 July 2009<br /><br />No bags. Little cash. Laces tight and purposely under dressed to be more inconspicuous. We thought we were ready for another dive into the Red Light District of Yogyakarta, in search of a good story and prepared for the worst-case scenario.<br /><br />Shazwan and I set off into the vibrancy of Jalan Malioboro, weakened by the late hour with less people roaming the streets. A short walk-up to the Circle K mini-mart brought us to our first detour, Jalan Sosrowijayan. As we turned into the street, the warmth that generally perpetuates throughout the city dissipated into the night sky, despite the area being a hub for tourists and backpackers. Trying not to stand out or let our anxiety manifest itself, we turned right into an<br />alleyway that was narrower, darker and more foreboding than those we had previously traversed. We were nearing our destination as people faded away into the shadows. Our next turning appeared suddenly next to us, nondescript and barely noticeable. Signs of life. A steel gate, blocking our path, blocking us from entering the district that was slightly visible from our vantage point.<br /><br />Undeterred, we searched for an alternative route by joining the main road known as Jalan Pasar Kembang. Having been there previously the night before, the darker streets and the few people caused morals and ethics to become vague and grey. Prostitutes lingered in the darkness of side streets, overseen by their pimps and blocking our entrance into the main area. Others walked the streets quietly as <span style="font-style: italic;">becak</span> (trishaw) drivers slept in their vehicles. Every sound, murmur or clamor rang hostile as the night devoured the streets, sending our adrenaline pumping.<br /><br />After many unsuccessful attempts to enter the alleyways we turned left along a street; the pathway to Hell at the end of which stood Lucifer's Bar. As we made our way closer, we saw a familiar shady character who tried to entice us to an unknown location for an open purpose the previous night. Thinking that running into him again would be a bad idea, we avoided the bar and made our way back home, not without frustration and disappointment.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI2ZswiH0qB5UmkGc6kghrMVbPh_bgsaQBptxbqfi0ycdx-5dw5BzFNO5mx19pFM2mMrFFmx7231egRqest3esK2UsdCI4qV6cd1tmLIOF5l9d0ID_VNvbwoQifD5i5_i-9-wVglN9jAI/s1600-h/DSCN0320.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI2ZswiH0qB5UmkGc6kghrMVbPh_bgsaQBptxbqfi0ycdx-5dw5BzFNO5mx19pFM2mMrFFmx7231egRqest3esK2UsdCI4qV6cd1tmLIOF5l9d0ID_VNvbwoQifD5i5_i-9-wVglN9jAI/s320/DSCN0320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358911821703914418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Lucifer's Bar at the ungodly hour</span><br /></div><br />Jalan Malioboro was empty. After a brief reprieve at the nearby internet cafe, we made our way towards our familiar alley. "Do you want Indonesia girls?", a man whispered to Shazwan who was sitting near the entrance to the alley of Hotel Puspo Nugroho, the hotel we were currently staying at. Brushing him off, we could not help but wonder that ironically, despite us going to the local Red Light District we were approached at our very doorstep.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwE9JJfeFHWN0EDCoIgZwO-ZOPSBdI8jwKHHgZ1iOnU7J2dIpGNOLzF0Gnt3exPDKuyvm8shs-ek6w0mOY_7pCtJM972oxcKXze-CASaMwFH0FkKVShTWX7RT6wpwcUc5vVn5NlSnX6tU/s1600-h/DSCN0325.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwE9JJfeFHWN0EDCoIgZwO-ZOPSBdI8jwKHHgZ1iOnU7J2dIpGNOLzF0Gnt3exPDKuyvm8shs-ek6w0mOY_7pCtJM972oxcKXze-CASaMwFH0FkKVShTWX7RT6wpwcUc5vVn5NlSnX6tU/s320/DSCN0325.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358912355528804962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The alleyway to our Hotel</span><br /></div><br />The streets transform at night. The sheer absence of people and omnipresent silence distort perceptions of safety and helps to open doors previously unseen. We continued to pry in search of something, anything that would satiate our curiosity for the night. A warning splashed on a door, a turn down a dark alley and walking along a road previously unexplored got us lost in a foreign city at 1am in the morning. More walking in the night breeze along desolate streets until<br />we eventually managed to find our way back home again.<br /><br />Trudging along the stairs back up to our room, physically tired but incredibly awake, we slumped to semi-defeat in a battle against the night. Is there another way in? Should we go with a local, with another friend? Unanswered questions swirled in our heads, wondering whether we would ever be able to see the real Yogyakarta before we left, whether our experience would be confined to the boundaries of tourists. Maybe another night, tomorrow night. One last venture into the unknown before we leave this country, one last attempt to see the darker side of the city.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Rashaad is from Malaysia and loves exploring strange places at odd hours, looking for different, eccentric things to do. According to Rashaad, roaming around Yogyakarta at night helps to bring out the inner socialist while the isolation leaves room to think.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-91349533249489752572009-07-14T22:53:00.000-07:002009-07-15T10:59:02.106-07:00Local Music: The Pulse of the CityBy: Natasha Tan<br /><br />14 July 2009<br /><br />If Mount Merapi, Kraton, Borobudur and Prambanan were the heart and soul of Yogyakarta then music would be its pulse.<br /><br />During my first night in Yogyakarta, one of the many sounds I heard were the sounds of guitar strumming, drum beats, tambourine's ringing and melodious harmonies streaming together as one, creating a sound of harmony juxtaposed within the sound of the city's busy streets of motorcyclists zooming down the street to the sounds of vehicles honking at the slightest traffic hold-up and becak (trishaw) drivers offering their services towards just about anywhere.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwME_iKIcJTlJqrJdPdYKvU9rcVJJpAVAJCA1aUvCvlzCZD1kMeYJAJ8b9mItRvPvx8Je9q_jqiOCanhzxY3RYk0_Q2aZWqG_v4RBg0YNAYz32-lU38QA2269y9b_4dl9Aqyp1jrQPTQ/s1600-h/DSC_0251.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwME_iKIcJTlJqrJdPdYKvU9rcVJJpAVAJCA1aUvCvlzCZD1kMeYJAJ8b9mItRvPvx8Je9q_jqiOCanhzxY3RYk0_Q2aZWqG_v4RBg0YNAYz32-lU38QA2269y9b_4dl9Aqyp1jrQPTQ/s320/DSC_0251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358562620992116482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Students sitting on the streets of Yogyakarta strumming their guitars</span><br /></div><br />To the uninitiated, it would have been a symphony of the most cacophonous. The sights and sounds of this vibrant city might not be seen anywhere else but here, especially along Malioboro Street, a busy street filled with vendors selling their wares ranging from batik clothing and flip-flops to T-shirts that say “I Heart Yogya” to stalls selling funky and colourful accessories to food stalls displaying their array of mouth watering local delicacies. All in all, it is a street filled with pretty souvenirs to bring back home to remind yourself of the wonderful times you had in Yogyakarta and great local street food that will definitely stimulate your taste buds.<br /><br />However, one of the most striking sights in the streets is that of the <span style="font-style: italic;">pengamen</span> or buskers. They are a dime a dozen here and yet they are respected by the people. They may be busking for the money but many of them are seen to be doing it for the passion and art of music itself. Along the streets of Malioboro, you can find youths hanging out with their friends, singing and strumming their guitar. It seems to be the favourite past time for these youths.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6U8fSOJCyx-q4Q5mbA1Q0hMeCYIVcrtb7NsJo3vsD8SXubnM-WH-y2HtNfhKKvNv0b4Y4XhA1803rgwlZutRvTTnm-WqY3bDbGMAOeMsPX7WwYaoprsGAFxiVG7lWYOwze6yc4u92gZU/s1600-h/DSC_0362.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6U8fSOJCyx-q4Q5mbA1Q0hMeCYIVcrtb7NsJo3vsD8SXubnM-WH-y2HtNfhKKvNv0b4Y4XhA1803rgwlZutRvTTnm-WqY3bDbGMAOeMsPX7WwYaoprsGAFxiVG7lWYOwze6yc4u92gZU/s320/DSC_0362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358562624908572690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">a pengamen playing music for the crowd</span><br /></div><br />My first encounter with the ngamen was when I was walking past the lesehans, a place similar to the mamaks Malaysia but the difference is that customers of the stalls at lesehans sit on mats on the ground. The ngamen would perform at the sides and the group consist of one, two or more performers. The guitar is one of the most popular instruments used by the ngamen to make ends meets. However, there are those who are more elaborate where they have a band consisting of a vocalist, a guitarist, a drummer and a bassist,the whole make-up of a band. I was mesmerized by the amount of ngamen who could be found along the streets. They are well-accepted by the people with many obliging passers-by giving them a token sum for their performance.<br /><br />I would think that the only venue to be serenade with great music would be whilst dining in a fancy restaurant but little did I know that such an event is also possible while I am sitting down at the lesehan digging in to the local nasi goreng (fried rice).<br /><br />Rashaad and Shazwan, my fellow travelers and musicians mentioned that the ngamen here are a fresh change from Malaysia and claim that it is a pleasant experience to be able to see the pengamen being able to do what they do without being harassed by the authority. They also commented that the ngamen give the streets of Malioboro more life and makes it a much more cultural experience as it conveys the image that Yogyakarta is not only popular in the arts but also musically inclined, not inhibiting the abundance of talents. Intrigued by the chance at gaining the experience of being a pengamen, Shazwan and Rashaad tried their hand at busking at the Parangtritis Beach, a beach we visited and proved successful at scoring approximately Rp.15 000 from the passers-by.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbyYYCJLlFqkdUfIgHe8J-rz0QlAGrlDZwyJPmJ6UjjoUgVco6oFEJw7Dd9K0rYUWcGn9HFpKHMlA45nseeHTWfzKAW_3nsBiT3dSCtY7Zdl61fdeAfCxli8RKG5Tb8oDh37SOCQrXXM/s1600-h/DSC09444.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbyYYCJLlFqkdUfIgHe8J-rz0QlAGrlDZwyJPmJ6UjjoUgVco6oFEJw7Dd9K0rYUWcGn9HFpKHMlA45nseeHTWfzKAW_3nsBiT3dSCtY7Zdl61fdeAfCxli8RKG5Tb8oDh37SOCQrXXM/s320/DSC09444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358562619942420578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Rashaad and Shazwan trying their luck as pengamens</span><br /></div><br />I managed to speak to Sapti, a 30-year-old ngamen who performs along the streets of Malioboro. She has been playing her flute for 3 years. She plays every night along Malioboro Street starting at 6.30pm till 10pm or beginning at 8.30pm if she plays in front of the Malioboro Mall. Playing in front of Malioboro Mall sometimes comes with risks as security from the mall restricts this activity. If that happens, she will walk around until the security are out of sight before she resumes her music. Sapti mostly plays Javanese music and Indonesian pop songs. She plays-by-ear where she listens to the song on the radio and then learns the chords from there. Such is the dedication to one's art. Being visually impaired does not stop Sapti from performing and doing what she loves to do even though she does it mainly to make ends meets.<br /><br />Yogyakarta is truly a place where the city is alive with the sound of music.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Natasha is in her final year pursuing a degree in the Bachelor of Arts majoring in Communications and Writing. She is from Subang Jaya and in this trip, she will be seen lugging the unversity's camera being a part of the photography team, as we embark on a journey in search of Yogyakarta.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-56127944732149400652009-07-14T21:40:00.000-07:002009-07-15T10:15:30.814-07:00Diary Entry: Day 5By: Chong Jinn Wei<br /><br />13 July 2009<br /><br />The day started at 9am. We the students of Monash University, Sunway Campus comprising of 19 students from 5 different countries (Australia, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and China) began Day 5 of our study trip In Search of Yogyakarta 2009. Our first session for today was the women's group Rifka Annisa.<br /><br />Rifka Annisa is an action group catered for Indonesian women who've had encountered social problems like domestic violence and discrimination. The Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) was formed on 26 August 1993 in the name of Rifka Annisa Women's Crisis Center. It became the very first Women Crisis Center (WCC) to be formed in Indonesia to cater the needs of women that were facing all sorts of trouble pertaining to their rights. The NGO had compounded a list of ecological factors that dictate the ways in which women's rights abuse are perpetuated.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3OvF3V8Fd4CHHFR361gVbJgefj61yS9RqWtKrzmUQmZVIabeAbcJM2SrI0R6-cLovjzpZcVYtuejGuy4vIzTgjox_0ReToiRQSIys6GEfVfJf7yV4XB38imVK1WoMtbUO6xziZVpa5E/s1600-h/DSC09669.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3OvF3V8Fd4CHHFR361gVbJgefj61yS9RqWtKrzmUQmZVIabeAbcJM2SrI0R6-cLovjzpZcVYtuejGuy4vIzTgjox_0ReToiRQSIys6GEfVfJf7yV4XB38imVK1WoMtbUO6xziZVpa5E/s320/DSC09669.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358543105672020914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Rifka Annisa WCC</span><br /><br /></div><insert picture="">Rifka Annisa is concerned about how the strong patriarchal culture in Indonesia that place women at a disadvantage position accentuate many abuses like domestic violence, rape and sexual harassment. The NGO holds activities such as counseling sessions,support groups as well as provide shelter for abused women. Rifka Annisa seem to present themselves as an open NGO that is willing to help women in trouble.<br /><br />After leaving Rifka Annisa we set out again for lunch at Jambon Resto. The restaurant had a very unique setting as the 'gubungs' (huts) we were sitting on were on stilts over a small pond in which fishes were swimming around. Our pre-arranged menu had served us the spicy 'nila' fish, 'tempe' (fried soya beans), fried tofu,oily kangkung, some sweet 'trancan' (diced vegetables with santan) and lastly, fried 'gurumeh' (fried pieces of golden fish meat) . Also, the sambal that was served along with the dishes was extremely spicy, which made the food extremely rich in flavour.<br /><br /></insert><div style="text-align: center;"><insert picture=""><insert picture=""></insert></insert><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4v0OW-P-CiYMCvhC3acoD97ClkEjCzPoWBdSVufUaj-gdeKn7vCY9Vm3bsifubtsAYg1UlpsnObYTAJSn2QKkz2Q8edlVsdNyCHItdi9yf1k5A3ft7bGKu2lloXPtgm1m6NZudfXFf7w/s1600-h/DSC_0079.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4v0OW-P-CiYMCvhC3acoD97ClkEjCzPoWBdSVufUaj-gdeKn7vCY9Vm3bsifubtsAYg1UlpsnObYTAJSn2QKkz2Q8edlVsdNyCHItdi9yf1k5A3ft7bGKu2lloXPtgm1m6NZudfXFf7w/s320/DSC_0079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358543108606758946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Lunch at Jambon Restaurant</span><br /></div><insert picture=""><insert picture=""><br />Interestingly, it was amusing to see how the food was disposed off as it was literally thrown into the very pond we were sitting on for the fishes to eat. It was a very ecological and environmental-friendly way of disposing food as it was used to feed the fishes.<br /><br />Later, everyone went to our last session for the day at Taring Padi, whereby we were privilege enough to meet artists that produce creative works that delve into political issues. A group of artists gathered together to make art that criticized Suharto's regime until 1998. After Suharto had stepped down, these group of artists felt that they needed to continue producing art on political and social issues because they had expected new problems to arise.<br /><br />Today, they explore issues like the recent 2009 presidential elections by producing 22 pieces of socio-political works to spread messages. They believe that people are free to vote only if they wanted to, as there were some criticisms on the candidates involved during the elections. Some of the other activities that they do include participating in rallies and drawing murals in public spaces to voice out opinions.<br /><br /></insert></insert><div style="text-align: center;"><insert picture=""><insert picture=""><insert picture=""></insert></insert></insert><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSvQC5UkuhChZTCXHuxVr8iGzztGVKUNurpKq3J63Ubx8GCmwYhIOfWpEro9STZHNWZ5IHxBeoQzM27bcMfWCsL8S_z5uStmOKjrLX-jhH8ZwZ_Q5vCKNaDrZhmAiLrRNaTfLB56527c/s1600-h/DSC_0217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSvQC5UkuhChZTCXHuxVr8iGzztGVKUNurpKq3J63Ubx8GCmwYhIOfWpEro9STZHNWZ5IHxBeoQzM27bcMfWCsL8S_z5uStmOKjrLX-jhH8ZwZ_Q5vCKNaDrZhmAiLrRNaTfLB56527c/s320/DSC_0217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358543114583194258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Session at Taring Padi</span><br /></div><insert picture=""><insert picture=""><insert picture=""><br />The members of Taring Padi make it a point to take no sides in their surreal and beautiful works of art. The pieces that were shown to us were delving into issues fighting for an uncorrupted government and providing a balanced view as well as fighting for the rights of farmers.<br /><br />In their works of art there's always a big picture about the primary issue concerned, and along the sides and everywhere else will be filled with smaller details that correlates with the highlighted issues. Hence, the end product is this picture with many minute details that truly goes to show that a picture can paint a thousand words.<br /><br />After that session has ended we all went back to our hotel to write our stories and rest up for the remainder of our study trip. This marks the end of day 5 of our trip In Search of Yogyakarta 2009.<br /><br />*View more pictures of the day from our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=4172&id=1807550373&l=f1490e4bba">photo album</a><br /><br /><br /></insert></insert></insert><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE: </span>Jinn Wei is a Writing & Communication major from Malaysia. Intrigued when he read books and saw videos of the various street murals in Yogyakarta, Jinn Wei wondered whether there was a deeper meaning behind those murals other than being colourful and fancily designed. The fact that these murals which would have been labelled 'graffiti' in other places served the positive purpose of creating a colourful street atmosphere unique in Yogyakarta drew him to investigate more about them.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8635407143155514662.post-81551400392381373652009-07-14T21:26:00.000-07:002009-07-15T21:48:43.794-07:00Where the Streets Have No Name (The Nightlife In Yogyakarta)By: Shazwan Mustafa Kamal<br /><br />13 July 2009<br /><br />Okay, that's not exactly true about the streets of Yogyakarta. The streets and roads here are a traveller's pipe dream-take one turn and you'll find yourself in another area of town where there are five other possible alleys to get yourself lost in. Bono's words echo steadily in my head like a mantra whenever I think of Yogyakarta's many intricate streets because its difficult not to be drawn and taken in by its mysteries-they all look similar but with each turning, each sharp turn to the left or the right unfolds many new secrets and surprises.<br /><br />One cannot claim to be a full-fledged traveler if one has not unraveled the various locales of a place, trying out different foods whilst exploring and understanding varying cultures and ideologies. And that was precisely what Rashaad and I set ourselves out here to do in Yogyakarta, starting from the humble comforts of our hotel-behind-another-big hotel, Hotel Puspo Nugroho. Within two days of living in the city and after a guilty meal of Mcdonald's which was situated next to a river community, we both decided: We wanted to see the real Yogyakarta, living and breathing in all its glory with the <em>pengamens </em>(Street musicians) and street vendors. Flush out all the McDonalds, sterilize the KFCs, and get to the soul of the city.<br />The socialist in me was screaming silently to be let out.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJYLxLomdxu1ai4sLM7XWd24VBVzFdz4MxAi4FKsRIlvHmR9AJ7GkjEkVVztaGzU-jGabkCMPdzO9aSBB_wbZ49mxKl2VO5X-HMUdOrkyodhra3_Se3n4k_SmPGlsvOLRdK_EGTMe7iI/s1600-h/DSCN0322.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJYLxLomdxu1ai4sLM7XWd24VBVzFdz4MxAi4FKsRIlvHmR9AJ7GkjEkVVztaGzU-jGabkCMPdzO9aSBB_wbZ49mxKl2VO5X-HMUdOrkyodhra3_Se3n4k_SmPGlsvOLRdK_EGTMe7iI/s320/DSCN0322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358913804688554978" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The (over) commercialized Malioboro street</span><br /></div><br />The streets tonight had so much to offer-it was teeming with activity, buzzing alive with the bright lights guiding the way all across Malioboro street, But that was not where I was headed tonight in search for my story. No, we had seen and heard plenty of what Malioboro street had to offer us, with its delectable <em>nasi uduk</em> (coconut rice) to the interesting eating arrangements of the <em>lesehan</em>. No, I had decided that tonight would be another adventure, fresh in perspective and uncertain in its outcome. After a satisfying meal of nasi goreng istimewa, Rashaad and I left the comforts of the city lights and ventured into the welcoming darkness of Jalan Pasar Kembang.<br /><br />The nightlife. Where your every need and desire would be taken care of. With a price, of course.<br /><br />The thirst for adventure beckoned to us like a hungry tiger playing games with its prey. We took the bait- hook, line and sinker walking steadily into the unknown. We had no idea what to expect of the 'red light district' that is Pasar Kembang. We heard stories of it being the central place for illegal transactions and the ever-elusive trading of the flesh. The first thing that caught my eye as we walked down the street was that it was much more quieter than its neighboring roads. Silence seemed to be the noisiest sound around, screaming at us, hovering around us as we continued our walk. Buildings seemed bigger and yet colder than the familiar petite ones of Malioboro. The first shop that we went into was a Rasta shop, specializing in Jamaican Bob Marley-ish clothing and paraphernalia. The owner of the shop was dressed in the traditional Jamaican way; thick corn-rows with a green and yellow t-shirt. We asked him a couple of questions about the shop and about Reggae culture, but after a few short and curt answers, we realized that he wasn't too comfortable with us asking too many questions.<br /><br />As we left the shop, Rashaad had spotted an alley that looked 'dodgy' enough to contain activities of the night worth writing about. The little alley was dimly lit at first, but eventually led to another path whichhad two forked little roads at the end. Left or Right? What road should we take tonight?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6JqMKRW-9qx-V6T8Tj8TZFwZj_pdAvGGs58m72SGdVpRQgN_43IqefXDbcom22MXtBcGJs_lroiwCbKY8syAaUft9kx24_-1YIkLt7vrsdEkL-y4nlPOXLDCsZxhn0ejvFd26sY66HM/s1600-h/DSCN0319.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6JqMKRW-9qx-V6T8Tj8TZFwZj_pdAvGGs58m72SGdVpRQgN_43IqefXDbcom22MXtBcGJs_lroiwCbKY8syAaUft9kx24_-1YIkLt7vrsdEkL-y4nlPOXLDCsZxhn0ejvFd26sY66HM/s320/DSCN0319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358915118324115154" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The 'dodgy' alley... what can we find here?</span><br /></div><br />Left. Funny how things work, because left gave us the right stuff to talk about. The next road was bursting with activity, there was a comfy-looking backpackers hotel where foreign tourists were enjoying dinner. The place had WIRELESS internet. Along with wine, western food and fine dining. I don't know what confused me more, the fact that there were so many people living in what was considered to be the most dangerous part of town; or the fact that the hotels here were full of tourists and were quite well-maintained. Apparently, European and American tourists prefer the Pasar Kembang area as opposed to Malioboro Central.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3d3NAnTjtZPK6ymLihIjJjICHCn4Bd7Qul0DAI4zzibyIhygT5XeOpNrRhdfTcxAgginqV9juB4sheM8yWSnH6vCao1QUh6czzBd_0TuU_RKnIBYKvRS4hepTOYoKyr5DWYyOL0UoTo/s1600-h/DSCN0321.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3d3NAnTjtZPK6ymLihIjJjICHCn4Bd7Qul0DAI4zzibyIhygT5XeOpNrRhdfTcxAgginqV9juB4sheM8yWSnH6vCao1QUh6czzBd_0TuU_RKnIBYKvRS4hepTOYoKyr5DWYyOL0UoTo/s320/DSCN0321.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358913794975795986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Pasar Kembang area- the new 'it' place for foreign travelers?</span><br /></div><br />I also noticed that the Malioboro area tend to be more Islamic in nature, with the <em>azan</em> (Muslim call for prayer) emanating from all corners, whilst Pasar Kembang was considerably more westernized, with pubs, restaurants and foreigners flocking the place.<br /><br />I wish I could say that after that we found what we were looking for, that is we witnessed illegal transactions and girls/guys offering us 'services.' We didn't. Nothing happened. The night called out to us and we dived right into the stereotypes of perceptions of a city, that it had its dirty secrets and sins lying around at every corner.<br /><br />I'm sure that Pasar Kembang had more to offer than a dazed-looking Rastafarian owner, and swanky western hotels. The night was surely as dangerous as we thought it would be.<br />We just didn't find it<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WRITER'S PROFILE:</span> Shazwan is a Malaysian student at Monash University Malaysia originally from Penang.He has hopefully made it through his final semester with a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Communications and minoring in Writing. He tries to study social sciences when he can, but in truth he thinks life is a big lesson itself. Usually mistaken for an Arab, Indian or Chindian, Shazwan has grown comfortable with the androgyny of his identity.Monashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01802949728631471200noreply@blogger.com0