July 14 - Puppets and shadows

July 14 Day 150

                We got up and had a nice breakfast of banana pancakes and fresh fruit.  I went for a walk to get some stuff done but was largely unsuccessful since it was Sunday.  The full moon dance performance at the museum wasn't going to happen until after we left and both travel places for our ongoing ticket from Ubud were closed.  I did find a place to do our laundry run by a guy with excellent English who turned out to have moved here from Florida. 

                We went to a vegan place for lunch with great service but only okay food, then dropped off our laundry and went down the street to the Yoga Barn.  This was a place with signs up all over town and mentions in all of the guidebooks about being THE place for yoga in Ubud.  They had a huge space including a hotel and a large garden.  Their daily schedule was packed with different levels of yoga and a bulletin board explained the multi-day courses available.  It had lots of fitness buffs, neo-hippies and surgically altered folks milling around with lots of treatments and new age products for sale.  We grabbed a schedule and went back to our room.

                We bought some fruit and beer on the way back and hung out at our room for the afternoon.  Towards evening we walked up to the shadow puppet performance we had picked out, which was on the grounds of a very fancy hotel with a pool and various huts and stores.  There was space for about 30 people but only a few were there in advance.  Steven had told us that it was a thing to see the show both from the front and the back and we saw two people waiting on a bench beside the performers. 

                We tried to read the story description given to us and discussed it with other audience members who couldn't understand it either.  It mentioned keeping dead family members in your head and getting your way with the demons of hell by saying you needed water from a fountain.  Behind the screen were the main puppeteer, two helpers to sort and hand him the puppets and two musicians all gathered back there around the open flame that created the shadows.

                The puppeteer did all of the voices and movements himself and often kept the puppets away from the screen, leaving most of them blurry.  We moved from fromt to back and it seemed a shame that the ornately coloured puppets were only shown in black and white if you watched from the screen.  Many puppets had movable mouths and all could wave their limbs and it was a procession of monsters of all sizes, animals, plants and warriors.

                It wet on for an hour, which was a bit long.  The audience appreciated the few English words used and most of the kids and a few of the adults took turns looking behind the scenes.  By the end more than half the audience had already left but a few stayed afterwards to take pictures of the puppeteers and puppets.  The shop on the way out had beautifully made puppets of all types for sale, but we had to head out for dinner.

                We had chosen a place we noticed the night before and invited Ugur to join us, as he had caught up with us in Ubud.  The food was really good and Ugur told us of some of the places he was looking at as he planned to spend a month there and wanted an apartment.  It was good to see him and we made plans to see a monkey trance dance performance together the next night.

                We walked home and were amazed again how active but calm Ubud was, very different from our perception of Bali.  We headed home and got to sleep.

The maestro concocting a puppet show.

Real fire, with helpers on the side.

The result, which is why we watched most of the show from behind the screen.

July 13 - Fire and Trance Dancing

July 13 Day 149

                We had another nice breakfast and got packed for moving on.  Ugur came back from his blue light trip and we got his contact information so that we could meet up in Bali.

                Johan drove us to the bus stop and knew the driver we were looking for and had our tickets ready, a real host.  We had a wait in the bus and many people were getting food together and vendors were walking up and down the aisle.

                once we got going it was a short drive to the ferry to Bali, which was reasonably large.  The channel was narrow and the other side looked close but it took a solid hour to get there.  We sat outside to get air as the ride was rocky until we were able to turn parallel to the shore.  There were many large places to sit and the ferry seemed to be at about 1/4 full so we had our choice of seats.  It was a nice day so outside was the right decision.

                It was about three more hours and an interesting drive to Ubud.  Bali was very lush but all the land seemed to be developed, fields or towns.  The towns all had an elaborate temple on almost every block, fitting the exotic stereotype of the island.

                We got to Denpasar, the main city on the island and essentially a travel hub that tourists transited through rather than staying in.  Our guidebook said we'd need a taxi as Obud was a village and not on main transit routes.  The guy who got us on the bus said that there were minivans going there so those would be our first choice.

                As soon as we got off the bus a large guy in a red shirt was asking if we needed a taxi.  We were accustomed to ignoring touts and when I told him we were getting a minivan he said that he was a minivan driver so I left him.  We went to an information desk that told us there was no minivan so we'd have to take a taxi.  Meg went to see the lay of the land and found a fare chart to local places and a cab willing to follow the chart.  Of course it was the guy in the red shirt.

                Ubud wasn't that far away on a map but distances isn't mean much to travel time in Indonesia as it was all about congestion.  We were told that the drive was going to be more than an hour and maybe closer to two but we got there in under one along quick moving roads.

                Our driver had trouble finding our place but managed on the second passing.  We entered beside a Hindu temple in a series of uniform buildings that appeared to be part of the temple complex.  A guy there asked if we were looking for the hotel and guided us past them, down steep steps and through fanciful, almost Gaudi-like concrete buildings.  Beyond that was another steep set of stairs and a lush garden with porched apartments were in front of us.  Ours had a kitchenette outside on the porch and our caretakers lived next to us.  The room was very nice, the only annoyance being that the sink was outside in the kitchen instead of being in the bathroom.

                We got settled and I researched what was going on in town that night and managed to find the local arts website that showed two performances of the fire and trance dance that evening.  This was a dance that Stephen had recommended to us, with  large male chorus chanting and making rhythmic noises which a Hindu story is told.

                We got walking towards the closest performance space and walked through the commercial heart of Ubud.  We had to backtrack at one point as a side road was closed because of a Buddhist ceremony that outsiders were not welcome to traverse through.  This detour out us on one of the main roads which was lined with restaurants, travel agencies ad shops selling tourist goods. 

                As we neared the performance space I noticed that the time in one of the shops was different from my watch and i asked someone on the street what time it was.  We had crossed time zones and lost and hour, which meant we were 15 minutes late for a the close performance but had 15 minutes to get to the further one.  We put our heads down and powered on.

                At the start of the street the show was at a guy was selling flyers that he said were tickets to the show we wanted.  We had no idea and weren't sure whether this was a scammer who would take our money and leave us with useless paper.  It also could be the case that we would get there and be told to go back to the guy as he might be the only source of tickets.  The classic tourist perspective of not knowing what the rules were and being forced to make a quick decision with not enough information.  Since a traffic police guy was watching us and not intervening we figured the guy was on the level and hurried up the road to where another guy was holding a red flashlight to direct us in.  Along the way other dance employees pointed us in the right direction ( on a straight street with no intersections) as people come cheap in Indonesia so over hiring and staffing isn't uncommon.

                The tickets worked and we were ushered to a few seats in the back row of some bleachers just as the show started.  About 50 shirtless guys came out into a space and encircled a flaming tree of burning coconut shells.  They waved their arms and did a chickachicka chant that increased in volume until they all sat down and they started telling the story.  It was one we had seen in our dance performance of the Ramayana so we knew the outline of the story but the performance was different.   The actors came out in elaborate costumes and mainly struck poses with elaborate Balinese hand gestures while one of the choristers shouted out the story in Indonesian while choristers chants rose and fell.  Some members of the chorus held sequences of notes that went with the chanting and reminded me of some minimalist compositions I'd heard and the effect was mesmerizing if not always comprehensible. 

                The story progressed with women playing the female parts and the two main heroes and the men playing the demons, who got to speak for themselves, and Hanuman the magic monkey.  The chorus took the part of demons or a monkey army but mostly seemed like a Greek chorus framing the action.  Sometimes they would fall over like dominoes in patterns and sometimes they would stand and out their arms waving in the air as the chants got louder.  It was a unique and engaging show only slightly lessened by some of the audience members standing to get better view and camera shots regardless of those behind them.

                The dance is based on old local exorcism rites but an German artist in the 20s liked the style and worked with locals to adapt it to performances of the Ramayana close to its current form.  He tool the show around the world to great acclaim and it has been a staple ever since, with some variation of it happening at least once a night in Ubud and probably other places.

                The performers left the stage and a few people left but it didn't feel like an ending.  We were at the back so we saw the cast talking and eating but some stagehands were restaging the central area so we stayed put.  They set a rectangular area in the stage and built a bonfire in it.  Then a big guy came and kicked the bonfire and walked around in the embers.  Two other guys in sandals would then sweep the embers back into a pile and he big barefoot guy would kick it again and walk around, staring defiantly at the audience.  This happened several times and at one point some younger guys ran around he fire, showing bravery but lacking the poise of the big guy.

                Once it was finished we applauded and a host thanked us for our time.  The big guy sat on the stage showing his blackened but unblistered feet for a photo op.  Our flyer said that the chanting put the guy in a trance that enabled him to do the fire walk and we struggled to explain how we was able to spend so much time treading on embers unharmed.

                We were hungry and it was late and 5 minutes away was a guidebook recommended restaurant so we headed there.  It was fancy but we didn't want to hunt around so we grabbed a seat and had a posh and excellent meal with the first good wine we had tasted in a long time.  It was a splurge but a similar meal in Toronto would have cost  4 times as much and we figured we had had enough cheap street meals to allow ourselves the extravagance and the place really was amazing.

                Walking back along the main street, this wasn't the drunken party hell that we imagined Bali to be.  At 10:30 2/3 of the places were closed and those that were open had people talking rather than screaming and vomiting.  There was obviously no shortage of good looking places to eat with local and western food available.

                We found our way back to our temple hotel along the quiet, dark garden and had a good rest.

Kecak dancers in actions.

Me and the fire kicking dude.

Meg in the strange concrete structure on our hotel's grounds.

July 12 - Blue Light, Civet Cats and Murals.

July 12 Day 148

                We got up at midnight for a 12:30 departure that became a 1 am one.  The drive was for about an hour and we picked up our guide along the way.  Johan told us that he was a sulfur miner for 20 years before becoming a guide and he had worked on his English ever since.

                We got to the parking lot at the base of Mt. Ijen and it was really cold so Meg bought a toque.  The first 30 minutes or so were very cold.  Johan had said it was going to be about 15 degrees but this had to be close to zero.  The path was well laid out and we were given flashlights and gas masks to show us the way. 

                The path was very steep and a few hundred people were walking up it with us.  All along the route guys with boxy rickshaws were advertising their taxi services but most people continued to walk.  We took a few breaks but continued to ascend for the 90 minutes or so it took to reach the rim.  This was all in the dark by flashlight with one guide for the two of us, as opposed to a group of about 70 Italians who only had one guide (what if the fumes got too bad, what could one guide do? asked Meg)

                Towards the top clouds of sulfur fumes made it hard to see so we put on our masks.  We also wore them during the 30 minutes or so we had to hike downwards from the rim to the edge of the crater lake.  This path was rocky and worn and many people had to take it very slowly, resulting in bottlenecks.  To add to the problems, people were coming up as the majority walked down and the narrowness of the path meant for some long waits while the other direction passed by. 

                Once we got to the bottom we had a fine view of the blue flame only visible in the dark.  This is the result of combustion of sulfur and can only be seen here, in Iceland and few other places.  The flame had a weird movement to it that was quite hypnotic. 

                After watching the flame for a few minutes our guide took us to where a sulfur miner was working.  We saw a few on the way down carrying yellow chunks on baskets.  This guy was cooking sulfur soap in a volcanic pool, pouring it into molds and selling it.  Meg bought one at a crazy price ($10) but she figured that she was supporting the miners.  The pack of cigarettes she picked up to give to miners in exchange for taking pictures of them were unneeded and she kept them until later.  Meg also wondered if the soap was safe and we looked online and found that it was safe and commonly used to treat acne.

                The climb out of the crater was a little easier than the climb down but Meg was finished climbing for the day and tired to the extreme.  The view from the rim was amazing, as we had been hiking in the dark and had no idea of our surroundings.  The crater had a blue lake with steam coming off of it and panoramic views down the side to the forests below.  We were above the clouds and could see some of them below us reflecting the colours of the sunrise.  It was a tough hike up in the dark to see the flame but a completely different one down, with amazing views from an exceptional place.

                Interestingly, the taxis had a lot more passengers going down the hill than up, many of them being older hikers as well as those with small children.  The hike down took as long as the one up as it was still super steep and we were both glad to finally reach the bottom.

                We woke up Johan from whee he was napping in the van and dropped our guide off in his village, giving him a good tip for his help.  Johan then offered us the free stops on the way back to town and we accepted them in spite of our exhaustion.

                The first stop was at a coffee plantation, but by the side of the road where some of the plants grew.  We tasted a sweet bean, nice but very little fruit and lots of bean.  We saw two kinds of plants and then looked across the road to a rubber plantation with perfectly spaced trees and collection cups similar to the ones we know from maple syrup farms.  Once difference from the maples are that the tree has a big gash of bark cut off of it to pool the rubber sap instead of a small spigot tapped into it.  The sap was white and very rubbery and neither of us had seen such a place before.

                The other stop was at a waterfall where we could walk down and check it out.  It was a very developed stop, with two stairways and a bathroom complex.  The waterfalls were very nice and a local family were enjoying them and took selfies with us by the water.  They had a strange planted area you had to walk through and a treehouse you could hang out in but it took the last of our energy to climb the steps out of it.

                Johan was having a coffee so we ordered one too as well as a pack of cookies.  We took the final trip back to the hostel and our Indonesian breakfast was waiting there for us in a palm leaf so we gobbled it up and then headed to bed to catch up on our missed sleep.  it was about 10:30 by this point and we felt that we had already completed a full day's worth of exploration.

                When we woke up that afternoon Johan was talking to a new arrival named Ogur.  We surprised him by speaking Turkish to him once we recognized his uniquely Turkish name.  He was on an 18+ month trip and had taken his motorcycle from Iran to Norway before heading east.  We also found out he had done a course in Nepal at Kopan like us, so the overlap seemed large.  When we mentioned to Johan that we wanted to take him up on his offer to take us to a cafe selling civet cat (luac) coffee and Ugur decided to tag along, so off we went.

                When we got there the parking lot was full and Johan remembered that it was bird competition day and so the parking lot was really full.  We parked off to the side and went in to the grounds, which were full of guys and birdcages.  The cafe itself had lots of room but we were fascinated by what was going on outside.

                Behind the cafe was a wooded frame with many birdcages hanging from it.  It was surrounded by men (no women participate in this sport for some reason) making noises at the cages while one guy threw blue and yellow sticks on the ground.  We were told that the birds were divided into separate categories and then were judged by how continuously they made noise.  The people making noise were encouraging the birds to chirp and the stick thrower was the referee, keeping track of the two birds facing off.  An odd sport that didn't hold spectator attention for two long once the mysteries were cleared up.

                Back in the cafe, our server made a big production of slowly pouring the water on the coffee after having us smell the grounds and observe the luac beans.  In a centrepiece were the luac turds, which looked like peanut clusters as they were mostly bean.  The story went that villagers in a poor town wanted to have coffee like the rich towns but couldn't afford the beans.  No one wanted the cat droppings so they were cheap and plentiful so they roasted and drank those.  A visitor had some of this coffee and pronounced it exceptional and it became the most expensive and cherished coffee in the world.  It saved the civet cat, which had the poor distinction of being delicious, from being hunted.  The half dozen or so in cages by the cafe looked pretty unhappy with their notoriety.

                The coffee itself really did taste different from others as it went to the back of the mouth and was really smooth with a nice, lingering taste.  Considering that it the most expensive in the world, we were only charged $3 a cup,which is less than many Canadian mugs of brew.

                We bought some beans to take back ($15 for 1 oz) and got stuff done at the hostel.  We regretted that we didn't have a few more days there as Johan had footage of a nearby national park where you could watch turtles lay eggs and babies run for the water year round.  The trip was 8 hours each way and usually involved an overnight, so we didn't have time.

                We went to dinner with Ogur and stopped off at the painted village on the way.  This time people noticed us as we checked out the murals ad soon a group were talking with us and inviting us to the central cafe.  We were wondering if we were being touted and the idea was to take some tourist money from us, but we were open to the experience and so was Ogur so off we went.  People had genuinely curious questions and we found locals named Imam and Obama.  They talked about life there and asked us lots of questions and the only money asked for was to cover the tea we had so it was quite innocent.

                After tea we went for a walk and they told us how we should pose and take pictures using the murals, but we soon tired of that.  They then asked us to come to their village office and do video testimonials about what a cool place their village was for tourists to visit.  Meg gave a donation to the council as we left but there was no hard sell and the whole experience was weird but ultimately positive.

                We walked to the buffet restaurant we had been to the day before but recommended it as Ogur was also a vegetarian and on Johan's advice had the excellent jackfruit curry.

                We walked back and Ogur went to bed early as he had the 12:30 start coming up.  We weren't far behind as we had a major commute ourselves the next day.

The blue light that we hiked so far to see.

The crater after sunrise.  We hiked down to the edge of the water.

Meg with one of the painted village murals.

July 11 - Banyuwangi anyone?

July 11 Day 147

                At about 1 am, when everyone was asleep, the conductor woke everyone up so that he could flip the seats around because the car was changing direction.  This meant moving your stuff when you're half asleep, trying to figure out where the pocket on the seat in front of you is now, look for anything that might have fallen on the floor while you were sleeping etc.  Luckily, nothing was lost but it took awhile to get back asleep again and we would have preferred to just go backwards.

                The last hour of the trip after sunrise was nice, with lots of paddy fields and mountains in the distance.  When we got to the sop on our tickets there was some confusion as it was one stop before the Banyuwangi stop but most people seemed to be leaving there and it was listed on our ticket.  while we were trying to decide what to do, the train started up again and made the decision for us.

                The next stop was the last one and we were able to get a cab using a meter into town.  Our driver was a real character who was shouting out to pedestrians during the entirety of our trip and turned some local religious talk show on the radio really loud.  Meg thought he was trying to convert us but that would have been difficult since there wasn't one word of English in the whole thing.

                We showed up at Green Ijen Homestay and were met by Yoga, who told us that Johan had gone to meet us at the first train station that we didn't get off at.  Our room was dark and worn but clean and so we spent some time trying to catch up on the sleep we didn't get on the train.

                When we got up we went over the blue light/Mt. Ijen tour that we would do that night with Johan.  We got some recommendations of what to do and then headed out to lunch to a place he recommended.

                Along the way we found an ATM that worked for both of us, crossed a nice public square and a huge mosque and enjoyed the light traffic the town had compared to the rest of Java.

                The place was a buffet with 4 kinds of rice and an array of other dishes that you could help yourself to.  The rice was hot but the other things were lukewarm.  Trusting Johan's advice and the steady stream of take out people were getting there, we decided to trust the place.  The food was excellent and cheap and we didn't get sick from it, high recommendations. 

                On the way back we walked down the painted village where bright murals covered most places in a small neighbourhood, many of which were designer to take your picture on (angel wings, head in the mouth of a shark etc.)  As we continued through the area we saw that kids were playing in the filthy river ad calling out to us ad many of the houses  were little more than shacks.

                Also on the way back, Meg got some pencils to give out to kids at a store where the merchandise was so dusty we felt like we were the only sale they had in the last decade.  We also dropped off a pile of laundry at a place where we were ward that we would be charged for 3 kilos because it was the lowest amount on their scale.  We were paying about $2.50 so it wasn't a problem.

                We caught up with more sleep and hung out at the hostel.  Two helpers for Johan had a room there but a bunch of young guys also seemed to be hanging out there.  Other than that, most rooms seemed empty.

                At dinner we went to a fancier place where Meg tried to order a meal minus tha meat but they said it wasn't available so she got a few side dishes.  Strangely, the place was showing a rerun of a North American soccer game between Vancouver and LA of all things.  The food was decent and the place was fancier than most on the strip.

                Meg though that she left her water bottle at the laundry place but we couldn't find it there.  We're not sure if the women there knew what they were looking for as their English was non-existent. Another casualty of travel.

                Since we had to meet our ride at 1 am the plan was to go to bed as early as possible before our adventure, so that's what we did.

Waiting at the train station.

Our buffet.

The river that runs through the painted village.

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July 10 - The Affendi Museum

July 10 Day 146

                We got up and had another great breakfast and chat with our Andorran friend.  When we asked what his name was he said that he has had many names and then changed the subject.

                Meg wanted the morning off as she had fallen behind in her work by spending hours the previous day trying to upgrade our flight using her airmiles (not surprisingly, she couldn't).  She stayed behind and the hotel got me a Grab to the Affendi museum.

                Affendi was a much beloved local artist with a quirky side.  The buildings on the site were all based on the shape of banana leaves and were nice, large curvy spaces.  The first building was the largest with samples of his work (mainly paintings, a few sculptures) in order from the earliest to the latest.  He had talent, and you could see how he went from a less distinctive style to using colourful, thick outlines of paint to frame his subjects to splattery grotequeries in his later work.  Also sitting in the gallery was a customized car which was supposed to be stylized to look like a fish but not really.

                The next room had sketches and oddities such as dressed and posed skeletons.  A third room had the work of his ex-wives and children, some of which was quite good.  Outside was a tower to look around the area (the gallery was right next to a river) and a cafe where a free drink came with your ticket.  Below was a gallery for local artists, a restaurant and a nice pool with strange creatures fixed onto it.

                The whole place was worth about an hour and the front office was able to get me another Grab to the National Gallery.  I was the only visitor there the whole time and there were at least a dozen people working there.  maybe they get tour buses as the restaurant space was built to accommodate large groups.

                The trip to the gallery was long and I should have checked it in advance as it as closed.  My Grab had gone so I walked back into town to check out the main shopping street.  The town is not an attractive one as the walk was hot and dusty with little to distinguish it.

                The main shopping street starts off basic with sidewalk space and racks of clothes in front of shops with lots of touts.  The restaurants along the other side are heavily touted and mainly empty with pre-cooked food ready to be re-heated, not a good sign.  As you continue south it becomes more crowded with locals and sidestreets with carts and makeshift stores going off in all directions and probably much better prices.  I wasn't in the market for anything so continued down until I got to the market.  There was lots of food and supplies and a few people doing satay over open flames.  Very busy with locals.

                I continued walking towards our hostel and ended up on our street after the time I suggested Meg get her own lunch and so had decent satay and beer at a place on our street.  When I got back to the room Meg hadn't been out so she headed out on her own to grab lunch.  She had used the woman at the front of the hotel's phone to call ahead for a pickup once we arrived in Bangyuwangi.  Johan, who was supposed to arrange pick ups, said he was busy but wanted our details in case he could make it.  Kind of a confusing message so Meg told him that we would make our own way.  Back in our room,  packing and readying ensued and we were on time for our Grab pick up for the train station.

                The ticket line was nothing so we had our tickets in 30 seconds after being told to be there an hour early.  In the station were plenty of seats and lots of shops so we loaded up on snacks and read our books while waiting for the train.

                All of the trains were pretty much exactly on time and we were in executive class this time with reclining seats.  We got comfy and ordered a cold dinner with dry chicken but decent rice in a box.  The old guy next to us was loud in talking on his phone and to the guy beside him, who might have gotten in about 5% of the conversation so we were glad we had earplugs.  The seats were much more comfortable than economy class (really, the price difference is minimal between them, it's all what's available when you book) but still hard to have a really good sleep on.  It also didn't help that they kept the lights on in the train car and there were long, loud announcements at every stop we came to.

The main gallery in the museum.  i don't see how the car resembles a fish.

A grotesque carving outside.

Huge Affendi sculpture in the cafe.

July 9 - Prambanan and grubby dinner

The largest of the three small temples, still pretty big.

A monkey relief on the main tower complex.

Hanuman burns huts with the towers in the background.

July 9 Day 145

                The next morning our Indonesian breakfast was excellent.  In the middle of the plate was a pile of coconut rice surrounded by various vegetable and meat dishes as well as some chili sauce.  It was restaurant quality and came with a plate of sliced fruit to share. 

                As we sat down to it one of the people running the hotel came and spoke to us.  He was an older white guy with a mustache.  He was from Andorra but his family moved to Africa and then to France.  We spoke a bit in French but his English was better than our French so we mainly spoke in that.  He was proud to be one of very few people to have Indonesian citizenship, apparently very hard to get.  He was a font of knowledge about Indonesian politics and history and his perspectives were really interesting if occasionally factually suspect.  We had a long chat with him so breakfast took a long time.

                Our tour was in the afternoon so we got stuff done in our room and had a simple lunch until it was time for our pick up.  In the van were two other people, one who didn't respond to a hello and another who did but then turned around.  Not a chatty small group.

                Prambanan is a Hindu complex not far out of town but traffic meant it took quite a while to get there.  At the site we talked a bit and the non-hello passenger was an American doing development work and the other woman was a Philippine nurse also working with communities.  We planned to meet up so that we could find our van together after the sunset.

                Meg and I walked down a pathway away from the main temple to three other sites considered minor.  The first two were smaller temples in good shape but the third was a huge temple surrounded by dozens of stupas and smaller temples with impressive brutish statues guarding the entryway.  At this site work was still going on and the ground was littered with stones looking for their homes.  You could walk through the main temple and many of the carving were in great shape but looking out on the symmetrical fan of crumbled stupas was the main attraction here.

                On the way back we stopped at the archaeological museum.  The curation was all in Indonesian but it had great pictures, including more nice old ones of the initial reconstruction of the temple.  We paid 50 cents to see a video on the temple which was mainly a summary of the Ramayana story which we would see in the dance performance later that day.

                Indonesians, like Indians, love to have their pictures taken with westerners.  On the way back from the temple was a nice version of this, where a girl asked for the picture politely and then we took one with her on our camera.  In the museum was a nasty version, where an arrogant guy in sunglasses motioned to me to move aside and then tried to get his friend to take a picture of him with Meg.  Meg gave them the back of her head and fortunately the slimy guy moved on. 

                We bypassed the zoo, video games centre and archery area to head to the main temple.  his had a large approach to the complex of six main temples and several small ones.  These were in great shape, covered with reliefs and many statues filled their alcoves.  It was also packed with tourists awaiting the sunset with us, many of them taking a long time to pose for their selfies and pictures and blocking the way for the rest of us.

                The sunset was a good one, with unreal colours and good light all around.  We met up with the American woman and helped each other get pictures and discussed the meaning of some of the carvings on the buildings.  After the sun was well set we headed to the parking lot and after a bit of a search found our driver.  Our party had expanded by three people, a German couple and a Romanian woman.  Together we went to a place picked out by our driver for dinner before going to our show.

                The restaurant was a typical local place and everything was going quite uneventfully until Meg pulled out what she thought was a dark vegetable in her spinach but turned out to be a big black grub.  She showed it to the staff, who apologized, brought her some tofu and didn't charge for the meal.  The rest of us mainly lost our appetites and carefully checked our forks before putting anything into our mouths.

                It was  a quick drive to the performance space, which used the lit towers of Prambanan as a backdrop to the danced performance of the Ramayana.  We had first class seats, which was actually the third level of priority.  These were close to the action and they gave us cushions to keep us from sitting directly on the concrete shelf.

                The band was huge with a few gamelans and many xylophones.  The stage was huge and teh costumes were striking, with subtitles off to the side being very useful for figuring out what was going on.  They had a bunch of kids cast as monkeys which won the audience over.  The first half was super long, 90 minutes.  We figured they wanted to end with Hanuman the magic monkey setting fire to a palace where two actual straw buildings went up in real flames.  You're not going to see a performance like that in any country with a fire code.

                At intermission we didn't buy anything and the guys next to us left so we were able to double up on our cushions.  The main characters were there to take pictures with but didn't look sweaty so we figured that they were stand ins for the real cast, who were having a well-deserved break.   The second half was only 30 minutes and ended in more pyrotechnics.  After it was over the performers stayed on stage and the audience could have their pictures taken with them.  The line was long and it was late so we just headed to the parking lot and hoped the rest of our group did the same.

                We gathered everyone together fairly quickly and the drive back to town was a little quicker.  We had to go to the tour office as our driver wasn't able to get a Visa machine in the parking lot and we hadn't paid yet.  Six people were there working even though it was almost 10, so we thanked them and hoped that they'd be able to get to their families soon.

                Our hotel was dark but the night guy popped up form behind the counter from the mat he was sleeping on to take our breakfast orders.  Indonesian breakfast again, for sure.  Back in our room we pretty much fell over and had a good sleep.