Solo in Solo

December 1st, 2007

Solo is both the name of the city (Eastern/Central Java) where I arrived in Indonesia as well as my status deboarding the plane. The only tourist, I breezed through customs and rapidly acquired my "visa on arrival" at the one gate airport.

The neighboring Yogajakarta is the hub for those wishing to see Indonesian culture. Solo is listed merely as a second option for those craving more. However, the main difference is not the offerings, but the tourists - Yoga had many, Solo has few.


By day I zoomed around the countryside visiting temples and small local shops and factories seeing such things as the art of making a gamelin (famous gong-like instrument) and arak (beloved local spirit distilled from palm sugar). By night I attended performances of shadow puppets and traditional theater with the locals. What I missed in English-speaking company was more than compensated for by the experience of the living art form. The performances weren't canned replicas of an ancient art form repeated nightly for Westerners, but continued to thrill Indonesian audiences (including the odd Westerner).

I was lucky enough to have my visit coincide with a major show put on by the local art college. The audience was packed with young and old people who errupted in laughter when the more traditional characters of Indonesian folk lore met with modern day characters such as the corrupt city official, street vendor and local drunkard. While I missed the benefit of a printed English language pamphlet, the movements and voices of the puppets along with the reaction of the crowd continued to fuel my interest and enjoyment.

"Worldwide" Web

...its a misnomer! From Labuanbajo to Ende on the island of Flores they claim to have Internet. Two broken computers, 5 lines down and one "closed for the holidays" later I gave up - resigned to having no Internet access for over 2 weeks. I'm sorry to have let my ever-eager fans down by not providing travel blog content over the lazy and distracted pre-holiday work period, but I hope that the following posts borrowed from my journal will suffice.

Broadcast Interruption

I'm in Indonesia. It's hot - I'm sweating like I am sitting in a sauna, but am only in front of this computer screen moving my fingers rapidly across
the keyboard. The computer closely resembles the one that I used in
High School (circa 1996) and it is slow. There is no way to upload
pictures at this time and logging on regularly to update my blog is
going to be a challenge (if not impossible) as I work my way east from
Bali toLombok, Komoto (of dragon fame), Rinca and Flores.

I hear by promise to do my best to keep you all informed. In the meantime, when
the Internet is not available, I will write feverishly in my journal
and post it to the blog when technology allows.

Rolling With KL's VIP

I came to Kuala Lumpur to catch a flight. One day, two nights, quick and dirty.

Rolling With KL's Entourage

I came to Kuala Lumpur (or "KL" as the locals call it) to catch a flight. One day, two nights, quick and dirty, nothing terribly glamorous or exciting until...

I arrived mid-afternoon and put down my bags, grabbed my walking shoes and took to the streets for exploration. Staying in the Golden Triangle business district I passed numerous banks, office buildings, franchised American coffee shops along the main road. The most "interesting" thing I saw in this concrete jungle was a side street filled with tiki-style cheese ball bars and clubs with cliche names such as "The Beach Club" and "Dancing Queen." I made note and continued on eventually hopping the monorail back to my hostel down the road hoping to run into a potential dinning partner.

There were no dining partners, only some hippies in the front area drinking beer and waxing philosophical about some minor and pointless details of world. I asked the man at the front desk if there was any good Malaysian food nearby. He was less than helpful and I set out on a hunt for food and started retracing my footsteps from the afternoon. I was a few blocks away when approached by a man asking if I knew where "The Beach Club" was. Funny enough, it was one of the only places in KL of which I did know the location.

Eddie, British guy living in KL, was meeting a friend he had met on a plane from Bangkok a few months prior and invited me along. Sure, I thought. I could always leave if it was awkward or lame, but I couldn't pass up the chance to get to know some locals. Little did I know that these weren't just any locals...they were KL's own VIPs.

We walked into the bar blaring the anticipated cheesy (buy delightfully so) mix of feel-good dance music and found our host, James, and his entourage - a motley crew of about 7 Chinese, Malay and Indian men all looking closer to Silicon Valley dorks than professional clubbers. The tables were loaded with buckets of champagne and two Johnny Walker bottles so large that they were hooked up on swinging metal tripods for easy pouring. Immediately a flute of champagne was put into my hand (garnished with a cherry) by the bar worker who had been assigned to stand by and top off our glasses whenever they got low - sometimes by their own initiative and sometimes at the prompting of host, snap snap.

This wasn't a celebration, just a regular old Wednesday night - the same thing had happened Tuesday, Monday, Sunday...back to last Thursday. No money exchanged hands. All was done on good credit. Apparently James was not only a dedicated partier, but also a shrewd businessman with a textile import/export company, owned a few bars (not the ones we were at) and had numerous government contracts. Most importantly, though, he was a really good guy - a graceful and generous host out to surround himself with happiness more than anything. The DJs, waitstaff and everyone at each cheesy bar we visited were all smiles.

I enjoyed the drink and the dance, but knew that I couldn't/didn't want to keep up with these seasoned VIPs. When the live Thai pop band took the stage for their second set at the second bar, I thought it best to leave. Unfortunately that meant that I missed a ride in the 4 jeeps that would come to pick everyone up, but my departure kept the memory (and the next day) pleasant.

Singapore: Fact or Fiction

There is no litter in Singapore.
Fiction. While litter is more the exception than the rule, it's here. I've seen some paper on the ground and a bag floating in the river. Ha!

The penalty for graffiti in Singapore is flogging.
Fact. Yep, that's true (remember Michael Fay in 1994?) However, there is still some defacing going on.

Gum is illegal in Singapore.
Fiction. You can't get Wrigley's, Extra, Bubblicious or any of the more traditional chewing gum brands, but gum sales are allowed in Singapore for "health related" products including teeth whitening gum and nicotine gum. Mmmm!

The Wonders of the World Wide Web and Singapore

I arrived in Singapore a little overwhelmed. This is a big city and I had only 3 days. I didn't want to get sucked into duck tours (TM) and the tourist trash (expensive and not worth the time). I wanted the real Singapore - you know, the kind you see on the Travel Channel.

I logged on to the Internet and went to the Smith College website. Lishan Yang, a girl who had lived in my dorm was from Singapore. I hadn't seen or talked to her for about 6 years and wondered if she was still around and, more importantly, if Smith was up-to-date with her contact info. I cut and pasted her email address into the "To" field and zipped of a quick "I'm in Singapore!" Turns out she was too (and had Monday off of work) - fantastic. Connection success in under 24 hours!

I've had a great time in Singapore thanks to Shan. I've driven around to different neighborhoods, enjoyed her company at Singapore's world-class Asian Civilizations Museum, asked a multitude of questions about local life, toured around Arab Street and tried a variety of unique culinary treats - e.g. chicken rice, porridge and frogs legs. Today I even had little fish eat the dead skin off of my feet...and boy, did they have a feast! Mmmmm!