Terrorism reporting

Counterterrorism blog posted a short entry on twitter comes of age reporting on Mumbai attacks. There's also a link to a google spreadsheet of the victim's names. In the last 3 minutes, there have been about 10 more posts coming in on twitter. Article on local paper mentioned a survivor's Blackberry practically may have saved his life by connecting him to what's happening in the world outside his hotel room.

May they rest in peace.

Fleeting moments

We live for those fleeting moments. The moments when we realize our lives are perfect, less than perfect, or far from perfect. The moments when there is what it is. The fleeting moments of enlightenment. There are no labels. Nobody to dictate who we are. Things exist as they are. Breathe. See. Hear. Feel. Live.

Page turner

A lot of times I have ideas popping out of nowhere. Almost all are silly. The rest I completely forget. So one day, I was going to work and the idea of an ultimate lazy person's page turner started popping up in my mind.

For a person like me, who dreams to have physical book propped up directly above my eyes within a reasonable distance while lying on the bed, it would be awesome if we have an automatic page turner remote. Prop your book up on a stand, it would have to be a flexible stand to be fixed on your bed or table, or any location you like. Now we have a remote, with buttons to control it, I'm visualizing something like my iMac remote. It would have << for page back, >> for page forward, pause button to bookmark page, << + hold for 3 secs to go back to previous chapter, >> 3 secs for the next chapter, number pad to key in approximate page number if you happen to take out your book on a train ride, pause again to store your new bookmark.

Ultimately, the remote would be smart enough to remember multiple bookmarks, like an e-book reader program. But keeping it simple is also key. I truly believe this is not novel idea. Hm, where can I get a piece?

I'm an idiot

It's 3 am. (WARNING: non-Mac or even Mac users, below is gibberish)

About two hours ago, I did something REALLY stupid. Dumb. It involved tweaking my 10-month-old Mac, that required me to change the System property file to the previous version (before Leopard came along). So I did. At the end of the process, I tried to change it back to its original version, luck wasn't on my side, the TextEdit failed me. So I figure, what the heck, I'll just restart anyway. Restarted. Basically it rendered my computer useless. Heartburn. The following is very computer geek oriented, be warned...

Reboots. TextEdit fails. Can't change the version back to the original. Computer is useless. Almost no application can run. Everything requires Leopard. Heart starts to burn.

Firefox fails. Can't get online help.
Safari fails. Can't get online help.
Adium fails. Can't get online help.
Mail fails. Can't get any help.
Text Editor fails. Counting on Microsoft Word.

I'm out of ideas.

Panic panic panic.

Friend with the same version of Apple is out. Can't copy file.
While still hoping copying the same file from the friend's computer will work tomorrow, tried plugging in my flash drive. Failed. Machine won't read.

Panic panic panic.

Get other app's property file. Changed the content in Word. Saved as file name. Copied to folder. FAILED. Word changed the file type to word document, which the file isn't.

Panic panic panic.

Tried 20 times to re-write the original file. Version1, Version2, Version3. Failed. File type just won't change. All applications are useless. Mac OS version is still different.

Extremely frustrated.

Thinking of reformatting the whole thing.

After a 2 hour ordeal, flicks eye to "Time Machine Backup" backup drive.

Time machine saved my Mac's infant life, and me from a zombie. A simple clicks and I found the backup file. Copy to folder. Restart. Works immediately. Everything back to normal. I can breathe. And realization hits. Idiot. Why didn't I think of that two hours before???

Time machine rules.

Microsoft Word came out a hero this time. Nothing works except for Office & Finder. I could open the content of file and write the whole thing. Although in the end, Mac's restriction on file type is the real issue, Word still emerges as a reliable help.

At times like this, the restrictions of the system created for the benefit of the user can fire back. I was rendered powerless.

Doh.

Bekele almost makes me cry

Throughout the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, and throughout the major competitions, it is often the sprinters, the 100m/200m runners, 100m/200m swimmers, that were talked about mostly. Commentators often shout out their names near the finish, papers often print their pictures more than others, highlighting their achievements. And my gosh, these are great athletes, amazing Olympians. Who could forget Phelps, or Bolt, the two reigning sprinters in their respective sports; swimming, and track & field.

But tonight, Bekele is the first athlete in T&F that makes me shake my head in disbelief and stare at the tube box in wonder. Most long distance athletes are little known. Marathon runners, 1500m swimmer, 20 km fast walk, 10 km run. I am guessing, perhaps we could attribute this to the short attention span of the viewers in modern days. I have to admit, I can't sit in front of TV through 3 hours for the marathon (I still can't understand how human being can do that). However, I am lucky enough to catch Kenenisa Bekele's 5000m final today. What a delight, what a great run from him! To think that Bekele just won 10000m a few nights ago, this almost makes me cry.

So it's 16 laps. He started off nicely, leading the others and gesturing his brother and fellow Ethiopian to follow him at the head of the pack. While brother Tariku and mate Cherkos eventually dropped off their pace, he remained consistent from start to finish without showing any great difficulty. During the last lap, Kenenisa quickened his pace (still!) and claimed Gold for Ethiopia, edging out number 2 by 5 seconds. What an excellent runner! Most runners who led in the beginning would've tired during their last laps from the lactic acid in their muscle. When that happens, usually it's ugly. Hopes are crushed, especially seeing the athletes behind you go past during that last crucial moments (plenty of those happening). Kenenisa Bekele emerged the champion and didn't even stop to take a breath after finishing. Beautiful!!!

Without playing down all the excellent athletes in the Olympics, all hail the long distance athletes! BRAVO. The mental strength they have is absolutely brilliant. Olympics never cease to inspire us of the human spirit, the ability to push our bodies to the extreme and never giving up.

I LOVE THE OLYMPICS. Simply beautiful.

Seven years of preparation will be over in two weeks, ending tomorrow. Let me go back and silently wait for the next four years. :(

Life in Technicolor

A distant update

Oh, I am probably the worst disciplinarian. I have abandoned 365 and this place too long. Something a friend said the other night makes me think about the evolution of our world view as we grow older. Sad to say mine grow worse. Even writing this line makes me depressed.

It's hard to get out of the 'me, me, and me' world like a good friend pointed out very clearly. We care about ourselves too much to sometimes get out of it. SNAP! Wake up! The world doesn't revolve around you.

Recently finished "The Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. It's probably one of the most stylish prose I've read in recent years. It is dark, mysterious, dramatic, yet the mood is occasionally broken with great humor. The translated English version is that good. I can't imagine how the original Spanish prose would be like. This, is entertainment.

Don Federico lived with his deaf octogenarian mother, known in the neighborhood as "La Pepita," who was famous for letting off hurricane-force wind capable of stuning the sparrows on her balcony and sending them spiraling down to the ground.

On the topic of 365, dry spell has hit and lasted for more than a month now. Ergh.

China Earthquake: Camaraderie

Today is the first of the three-day mourning for the China Earthquake victims...In a show of camaraderie, media websites and newspapers in China came together and all of them published their sites / papers in black and white. I know some Chinese nationals who are very patriotic and loyal to the country but this is something that has never been seen before. I am amazed and touched by their spirit of togetherness in this difficult time. China even allows Japanese rescue workers in. Placing the lives of others before one's needs, or in this case, the country's political interests, should be a lesson for Myanmar. If Myanmar junta continues being stubborn and does not allow rescue aids to enter the country, soon they will have no country to run. What's the purpose?

Water and sand

That's what I smell and feel these two days. The heat in the afternoon made me reminisce being on the edge of island, the sun at its most powerful, with the ocean waves crashing to the shore, the shrieks of children in the distance and adults sunbathing and lazily enjoying their fictions. Now where is that glass of pina colada I ordered?

Heat and humidity notwithstanding, this is the best time for napping. Oh the glorious sun! The strays of lights...blinding when you are outside, but naturally lighting your room to its best shade. I can never live without it. Sweat from the after-nap is tolerable because of the refreshment to our soul. To me, a nap is not just a nap, to nap is to enjoy all the wonders of the world. Smell the freshness of your pillow, feel the softness of your bed, breathe the unpolluted air while it still lasts, curl up on your bed, read your magazines until the purring fan and the afternoon music lulls you to sleep...it's the best feeling in the world.

Enjoy!

May all beings be happy!

It's Vesak Day again. Let me wish you happiness and may all beings be happy too! Perhaps we should all consider, it's time to up our game on supporting the cause for vegetarianism.

Albert Einstein said, "Nothing will benefit human health and increase chances for survival of life on Earth as much as the evolution to be a vegetarian diet." Gandhi also once said, "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." There is one important precept, as old as history itself, that hasn't changed since. Confucius, Lao Tzu, Buddha all preached it. Hinduism taught it. Jesus summed it in single most important rule in the world: 'Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.'

We all want to be loved, want to be treated fairly and just. The pronoun 'we' here are beings, and is not intended solely for humans. We don't want to be put into a machine and sliced with blades. Or crammed into spaces with no breathing air with our fellow humans. Or skinned alive..you get the idea.

Let us stop and think about the food on our plate next time.

Just like last year, I wish I could be at Borobudur today. I shall withstand the heat and humidity (Singapore is SO hot and humid this week!) to watch the procession. But alas, I have just visited the place a few months ago. Patience, is something I lack these days.

May all beings be happy and free of suffering!

"I have nothing to say and I am saying it"

4'33" is perhaps the most radical music composition I have ever encountered. It's John Cage's most famous piece and the most controversial. It sounds to me like an art, which music pretty much is to begin with. Perhaps using your environment to create music makes the most perfect sense of all. It is a canvas and a mirror. The center piece is not the object we think it is, it is us.

One funny thing is in the interlude, all sorts of cough sounds from the audience suddenly came up, it's like they're suppressing it for the effect of the composition.



From Wiki:

4′33″ (Four minutes, thirty-three seconds) is a three-movement composition by American avant-garde composer John Cage (1912–1992). It was composed in 1952 for any instrument (or combination of instruments), and the score instructs the performer not to play the instrument during the entire duration of the piece. Although commonly perceived as "four minutes thirty-three seconds of silence", the piece actually consists of the sounds of the environment that the listeners hear while it is performed. Over the years, 4′33″ became Cage's most famous and most controversial composition.

Conceived in 1948, while Cage was working on Sonatas and Interludes, 4′33″ was for Cage the epitome of aleatoric music and of his idea that any sounds constitute, or may constitute, music. It was also a reflection of the influence of Zen Buddhism[citation needed], which Cage studied since the late 1940s. In a 1982 interview, and on numerous other occasions, Cage has stated that 4′33″ is, in his opinion, his most important work.

Can you live 24 hours without gadgets?

Tomorrow is Shutdown Day. Although the premise is about a day without computer, I'd like to think of the day without any sort of electronic gadgets. I can't participate, although I'd love to join the excitement. Being excited about a day without computer, iPods, digital cameras, cellphones???? Yes! Remember my Nyepi post? Perhaps another day, I'd like to experience that.

Can you last? Let's go unplugged!

Week of April 12-19

The foundation of things

The intricacies of our mind

Rustic Nirvana

A transition

Feelings

Illusions

Apartments on fire

Another world

The power of no Internet

It didn't last very long. But for four days I was "off the grid". I was not on vacation. But I was free. I was not sucked to the dangerous world of Internet. Because I had no other choice, I was spending my time doing something else that is more beneficial to my well-being, like reading in the comfort of my room. It was a great feeling. If you read my posts, you would know I am the kind of person who would appreciate this kind of thing. Like Nyepi day in Bali for example.

Or, perhaps not, I would probably get bored by the second 15 minutes. I would bang my head to the glass windows or throw things to any strangers who pass by, had it not for my careful restraint that I practice for years.

Nonetheless, luckily I didn't have an entire day to muck around without the far-reaching claws of the universe, so I did really enjoy the time off. The computer is a strange thing, it has an almost mystical power and effect on me. I instantly got sucked to its power like ants to sugar.

Alright, alright, it's crap. It's the choices that we made, blah, blah, blah...

Anyway, I haven't posted for a while. I skipped two days since the inception of my 365 project (so not proud of it) and most of the time I took bad pictures. But here goes April 6,7,8,9,11:

Previous world


Ah


10 minutes


Cartons and Bulbs


James Brown

April 1 - 5, 2008

First instinct


@_@


Say What?


Kind of a Bore


YOU! Yes, YOU! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!

Seven days

Today


Yesterday


Saturday


Friday


Thursday


Wednesday

Three things

Purple, gold, blue, gray, yellow, red, turquoise. Mmmmmm... I tried shielding my eyes from the buildings beneath it and just stood there. My favorite spot. And I'm transported back to Balinese coast at Uluwatu, and King's Canyon during the sunset. This is the only place I could see the big patch of sky and the hues of twilight. Sometimes when it's really dark I could see the faint stars during cloudless nights.

The father was riding a bicycle. The daughter sits quietly behind. He pushed a little more energy into his pedal, on the small slope up. Then they continue, towards their destination. I remembered the times when I was behind my father in his old big Honda motorcycle. He is small, but he has the strength the push and ride that beautiful old machine for 20 years every single day.

Ants Marching, playing repeatedly. The sound of the music reaches my eardrum. My fingers moved, to the melody of the guitar and drums. Brilliant composition. Beautiful song, one of the best.

Three things that touch me tonight, on a simple narrow path.

When technology marries luxury

A friend showed me this today (not mine). The question was: If the other half drops off (the bling bling part), what happens? Why don't Philips and Swarovski put the bling on the other half? Either way, one wouldn't be complete without the other. Say it! One, two, three: "Awwwwwwww!"

Fight outta you

I was listening to Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals' song "Fight outta you".

There's always someone younger, someone with more hunger, don't let them take the fight outta you
They'll say you're the one and only
Then straight up leave you lonely, don't let them take the fight outta you
Like a transplant-patient waiting for a donor, don't let them take the fight outta you
Like a half empty balloon after a party in the corner, don't let them take the fight outta you

Be strong, friend.

Today

















Yesterday













Friday

Falling back to old routine

I ruined it!

Now I can't quite figure out how to assemble it back.

Shamrock or Holy Trinity?

Today is the day I finished the Harry Potter series. Extremely late, I know, even by the standard of casual Harry readers. I can see these books being the Roald Dahl's books of 21st century. I can see the books being reprinted and read for many generations to come. Books are being spun out of it during this moment. Merchandises produced, movie rights secured. It's all a snowball which will provide for JK Rowling and family for a long long time!!

Anyway, imagine yourself as a struggling mom, envisioning these characters, and actually finishing the book after years, getting a publisher, til today, when you are the richest woman in the country, and one of the most successful writers of the world. How satisfying it must be! Well done, Ms. Rowling.

In the name of the thing that flies

The bad good vs. the good good

What merits a person to deem one thing bad when the person has never grown up to see bad all their life? That statement is a contradiction in itself. In the plane of existence, good and bad don't exist. It's polarizing, created by humans with our idealistic notions and our needs to hold on to something we call faith. Faith created good, and faith also created bad. Back to the real world, I always had the argument with myself about the good good and the bad good. You see, the bad good is the good that emerged out of bad. The good good is the one that has never seen bad. Okay, so far, this is all gobbledygook. Let's take an example. What I meant is, take a person who has ventured to be what our society deemed bad, taking drugs, running away, petty theft, and doing countless other 'bad' things you can think of. Later in life, this person changed. Something snapped, and then they turn to be good. Now that they are good, they are more in tune with the bad deeds in their past. They realized how dangerous it was, how hurtful their conducts were. They strive harder to be good, they strive harder for their children to not to grow up being their replicas. On the other side, there's another person who was raised in a good environment all their life, had great education, worked a decent job, provided for their children well. This person has not so much seen real violence as only in televisions, has not smoked once in their life, has not ventured anywhere past the shady dark alleyway at night. Is this a dangerous to live life too? Unequipped with knowledge and workings of the 'other' side of the world, the person would never be prepared to deal with it. It's not all black and white, of course. What would be the middle way, I ask?

A journal, part deux

21:59. I'm in the soul of Indonesia, the ancient city of Yogyakarta. Hm. Yogyakarta that I have seen so far is a quiet small town in Central Java where people are more relaxed and friendlier than where I came from. The streets are dead quiet after 7. So I got to town after 2.30 and headed straight to Prambanan temple compounds on a taxi whose driver keep badgering me into paying an expensive fare for the ride back. I figured I'd take my chances and figure something out. And word of caution to Indonesians: bring your ID. Yours truly was silly enough to fork out USD10 for entry fee when local Indonesians could get in for less than USD1. Lucky for me, a guide noticed and helped me save that 9 bucks. Naturally, I bought his service.

So we took a walk around the beautiful Hindu monuments, majestic candi that stood there for almost 12 centuries now. The ruins, the temples resemble those of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, typical in its tall and pointed architecture. The compound is home to many Candis; there's Candi Shiva the Destroyer, Candi Vishu the Keeper, Candi Brahma the Creator, Candi Nandi the Bull, Candi Garuda (undergoing reconstructed due to the very damaging 2006 Java earthquake), and Candi Sewu 1 km from the main temples. Some say the temples are even more beautiful than that of its Buddhist neighbor, Borobudur. I think these two are not comparable, beautiful in their own rights. The skies were not forgiving during this period, it soon looked like a heavy storm was going to hit anytime. So I quickly took some pictures and tried in vain to protect my camera when it finally hit. I was soaked by the time I got to Candi Sewu. The tourists all went back but I didn't see a lot of them anyway. I pretty much had the temples to myself that afternoon. The damage I've done to the camera? Oh well, let's just say it's still working. However, as the guide's story goes, the villages around Yogyakarta were all destroyed, people were left homeless as the result of the quake.
After two years, they were just beginning to rebuild their lives again. We were allowed to go and touch the temples before during my first trip, but today, I was circling and admiring the temples outside a wired fence. Things are just too fragile. Perhaps they should do this in Angkor Wat too before the overwhelming tourists do any further damages.

I began to ask the guide how I was supposed to go back to town as the complex is 18 km east of the city. I got the details, buses I should change to, the guide to walk me to the bus stop when he spotted his friend who works as a driver for a local tour agent. Finally, things work out just fine! As I waited for his passengers, I sat on one of the many roadside stalls catering to the returning passengers having a cup of hot tea that is just out of this world and watching the rain. It was just lovely. On the way back, I got to know two Indonesians living in the US, and a French-Canadian who's in the middle of his 6-month-long Asian trips. We arranged for a dinner meet-up at ViaVia Cafe, a hip local cafe south of Kraton and had a blast talking through the evening.

--
It felt so good to enjoy a cup of the wonderful fragrant hot tea and your breakfast reading your newspapers. That's how I started the morning, then I was off to walk along the famous Malioboro street. It's still very early, the street sellers were still setting up their stalls, the becak drivers parking their vehicles and waiting for passengers. As I walked, the stuff they sell were repeatedly the same: Dagadu T-shirts with funny words that made them famous, beads, wayangs, paintings, wooden ornaments. If you bargain hard enough, you'll get plenty of stuff for close to nothing here. On one flanking one side of Kraton, you can see the imposing and well-preserved Bank Indonesia building, the reminder of colonial times that is perhaps lost of many locals and myself included, of the legacy the Dutch has left us, simply because it has always been there all these years when my generation were growing up. There was apparently a pasar malam, complete with bianglala (ferris wheel) and toy stalls set up on the lawn in front of Kraton Yogyakarta. It was not the most prettiest sight to be greeted with when you were intending to lavish in the grandeur of the sultan's palace. Speaking of which, the Kraton wasn't what I imagined it to be. Instead of tall majestic whitewashed buildings you see in other parts of the world, the Kraton is comprised of small structures scattered within a compound, complete with ceremonial halls, performance halls, sultan's residence, museums.

The guide showed me the various colorful costumes royal family and the royal soldiers don in ceremonies. To this date, the many Abdi Dalem or the palace servants who work voluntarily without pay out of loyalty to the sultan still live in in the palace compounds and the surrounding. They are elderly Javanese who are able to tell autobiographical stories and, as I stood close to one giving a lengthy explanation on the emblem of the kraton to a group of foreign tourists in a hall, who still speak what I guessed was Dutch language. The abdi dalem wears aviator sunglasses which I now realize is a favorite of many men(including Soeharto)! We walked past ceremonial halls where kings, princes, and princesses were crowned, where annual ceremonies are held. The kraton is old, no doubt, and it emits a kind of quietness that resembles a kampung (village), albeit one of royal stature. A walk just outside the kraton walls found me stopping at the Museum Kereta (Royal vehicle museum). The collection of sultan's horse carriages is staggering. It started from Sultan Hamengkubuwono IV to the IX, the most revered of all and the current sultan's father, most of the carriages were made-to-order in Holland and carried the part manufacturer's symbols still. Some were even so lavish they were made with plated gold! All carriages have their own names and are used til this date in certain ceremonies. The condition of the museum and its unused horse stables are in need of touch-up, but then one might say that would take away its old grandeur and what had once been there.

I followed the sound of music to the other side of kraton, to the performance hall where the gamelan ensemble performers practice every Tuesday. They are made up of almost all elderly people.The sound of gamelan and the many accompanying instruments are very soothing, very old, very...Javanese. As I watched the visitors come and go, the music pieces changed, I believe the Javanese is a peaceful society, as reflected by their love of music, their artistry, their culture, their boundless creativity. It's part of their life, art is not distinguished as "art" to them, it's simply part of who they are. Just directly outside the performance hall, I found an arca, the exact replica of the ones I saw in Candi Sewu! Maybe these arca served the same purpose as the lion statues guarding the palaces and office buildings in Chinese cities.

When it's time to go, a becak driver kept walking alongside me to offer his service at reduced rate so he could bring me to places that would give him commission. I rejected his offer but asked him to take me to alun-alun kidul (the south square) where the twin banyan trees stand amidst a patch of green. Legend has it that if you could walk blindfolded past the banyan trees, good luck will come your way. I decided I could use a little luck and it wouldn't hurt to try. The becak driver gave me his intructions. He would follow me and make sure I was out of harm's way but he was not allowed to speak or direct me in any way. Okay, ready. So I closed my eyes, concentrated, and started walking. After about a minute or so, he told me to stop, and there I was, standing in between the banyan trees. I've made it!! He later told me he has tried hundreds of times and never succeeded. And to know that I did it on my first try felt really good! He asked me to try three times. So I did. But clouded by my excitement or greediness perhaps, I made a half-moon diversion to the left and to the right the second and third time. Total failure. Haha!

After a tremendously satisfying lunch of nasi goreng and jasmine tea, I departed for Candi Borobudur. As it's rainy season, I was hard-pressed to find a tour agent that was willing to take one passenger to the monument. So I waited what seemed like hours but only a good 25 minutes under the scorching sun for a public bus to Terminal Jombor, then changed bus to Borobudur. This was perhaps the first time I took a public bus in Indonesia for many many years! Squeezed in a seat half the width of those inside public bus here, I sat next to an old lady who was on her way to one of the small towns along the way. The ride took a good 1.5 hours because they kept stopping anywhere to pick up passengers. I forgot how the public bus ride in the country was until that day. It was a good reminder. Anyway, the wind was strong as we closed in on Borobudur's entrance and the sky was greyish blue. Please, don't rain. I said to myself. I was about to enter the place I have been wanting to visit for the past few years. The greatest Buddhist monument in the world. I clearly didn't want rain to start pouring.

I walked a few minutes before I finally caught glimpse of the familiar pyramid-like structure. Happiness! The Borobudur of my childhood and the Borobudur of my adult-life feels different. It was smaller, I thought, than the last time I saw it. I circled the monument for a while, then slowly made my way up to the empty main stupa. Along the walls on the different levels encircling the Candi to the main stupa, the bas reliefs tell the story from the birth of Buddha and his journey to enlightenment. On that day, a group of students from Jakarta were visiting as well. I squirmed at the way they sat and put their feet up the stupas while laughing at each other's jokes. Some tourists from Japan were climbing down inside of a exposed stupa until a speaker announcement kept them away. I remember when I was 5, I was told that if my hand could reach the navel of the Buddha statues seated inside the stupas, I will have good luck in my life (again - these stories of luck are everywhere!). I still had that picture of the five-year-old me trying vainlessly to reach the navel by extending my hand inside the stupa's diamond-shaped holes. The more realistic me today didn't even try, the navel was pretty far in from the hole. I met the two ladies again, which I had hoped for. They were on their way back from a hike to Pegunungan Dieng and stopped for a tour of Borobudur in sunset. I hitched a ride with them back to the city. We left before the sun set, and as we drove away from the place, the golden hues of the sun were reflected on the side of the temple facing the west. It was such a beautiful sight and would have made a great capture had I stayed. Nonetheless, I count myself lucky to be able to catch that sight in the afternoon without rain.

The evening was spent watching Ramayana ballet. The reason they termed it ballet was confusing, since there was no actual ballet performed. The Hindu epic tells the story of Rama, trying to save his devoted wife Sita, who was abducted by the demon king Ravana, that culminated in the battle of Lanka. The dancers executed their movements flawlessly, every twist and turn of the wrist and leg is carefully choreographed. The movements of the eye, the fight scene, the jumps, the actual fire, are all very well-executed, leaving a long applause at the end of the show. I was the only Indonesian that night, doing the tourist thing in my own country, and even the usher was surprised, as there were virtually no locals attending the shows. But who would miss a performance like this, under the starry rainless night?

Yogyakarta that I saw embodies the spirit of the old Indonesia, the new Indonesia, the spiritual Indonesia, the peaceful Indonesia, and the creative Indonesia. The smiles of the becak driver, the kindness of the usher, the laid-back atmosphere of the city, the strength of their faith, all bear their marks on my memory of the city that is Yogyakarta.

More pictures here.