Excerpt from Chapter One
Indonesian Adventure

continued:

Arrival at Yogyakarta Airport, Indonesia, August 6th

When I first arrived in Yogyakarta, known affectionately as "Yogya," I was mesmerized by all of the new sights: becaks(bicycle rickshaws), legions of motorcycles, tiny warungs(food stalls, assembled and taken apart each day), intense sun, and veiled women - often riding the motorcycles. Outside the city, there were stunningly green rice paddies tended to by lean barefooted farmers. I was grateful to have been assigned to Yogya because as one of the centers of Javanese culture, it is home to wayang kulit(shadow puppetry), gamelan(traditional Indonesian music) orchestras, and classical Javanese dance.

Early mornings in Yogya filled with luminous sunlight were especially enchanting. As soon as I was out of bed, I would step into my garden and breathe in the fragrant air. I was surrounded by orange hibiscus, ginger plants, and banana trees, and serenaded by roosters declaring their place on earth. I would say Selamat Pagi(Good Morning) to Mas Mujiran, who took care of my bungalow, and his wife Mbak Titi. They were from a small village nearby, and as soon as I met them, I fell in love with their easy-going personalities; they were usually grinning and laughing about something. Their young daughter, Tiara (already a charmer at three years old), and I would sit for hours in the sun talking a little in English and a little in Indonesian. Breakfasts were great opportunities to sample Indonesia's bountiful variety of fruits. Some of my favorites were fresh nenas (pineapple), jeruk bali (pomelo), and belimbing (starfruit). I also sometimes nibbled on durian,a sickly-smelling but tasty fruit. I liked eating it because of its infamous reputation: its pungent odor is so despised that it is even banned from buses and trains in Singapore. Before leaving for school, I was sometimes audience to a roving neighborhood group of musicians who carried tambourines and string instruments and wailed in Javanese.

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