The Street of Malioboro, Yogyakarta, and the Keraton

October 2, 2009.

Traditional taxis of the street of Malioboro

After 8 hours of train ride, we finally arrived at IBIS Hotel on Jalan Malioboro, Yogyakarta around 5pm. The hotel is centrally located, on the busy and popular street of Malioboro, where tourists shop, eat, stroll, hop on a pedicab, or bargain with a "kusir" for a city tour on his horse carriage. The street is perhaps the oldest one in the city, for it was the main street that leads to the famous palace of Yogyakarta. The Royal family and it's incumbent King is still a powerful influence for the region. The Republic of Indonesia had made "Yogyakarta Power House" as the ruling official for the special district of Yogyakarta, and placed it on the level of a state/province. Thus the King (Sultan) also serves as the Governor of Yogyakarta.

Foreign Name vs. Local Name

At the front desk of Hotel Ibis, I asked the personnel if our friends Marini, and Rod had checked in. They said yes. "There is a message from Ibu Marini," he said. I felt relieved to know that some of our friends from the United States had made it to Indonesia. I hadn't heard from Suli of Walnut Creek and still worried that something happened to her. She became a mystery through the entire trip. I had reserved the hotel and prepaid by using my Indonesian family name, Soemarno, for I get a better price as an Indonesian. So, I had reserved our friends' rooms at the same time, so they can get the same price as I do (though they have American last names).

The Internet Connection at IBIS Hotel

Our friend Bulan had suggested IBIS for its location. But Mitch's main concern during this entire trip was the high speed Internet that he must have. During the 8 hour train ride I had to make several phone calls to clarify that unless we get a room with a high speed Internet "in the room", we will not stay. After talking to several people in different departments and management levels, we finally got a room with an in-the-room Internet. They told us that it was the only room that has the best Internet connection. So, we took it and decided to "live" with it. The room was not so bad, though I was wondering if this is how a youth hostel might look like. The phone rang, and it was our friend Marini. I asked her to meet us at our room on the 2nd floor. While waiting for her, I looked out the window down to the street..... there were taxis, becaks (pedicabs), vendors pushing their food carts (pedagang kaki lima), and people strolling. Mitch got his computer, his briefcase, and the Internet set up. Setting up his "office" while on vacation, yeah.

The Happy Marini.
The door bell rang, and our dear friend, the energetic and chirpy Marini with her signature laughter was immediately filling the room. It didnt' take long after catching up when she invited me to see her room. I thought: it must be her new Prada shoes that she wants to show me. Which I would do the same to my girl friend (Oh..girls, girls, girls !) We both walked fast out of our room down the hall way to her room. She unlocked the door, opened it and held it open for me, and smiled....... for a few seconds I was trying to interpret her smile which was different. Then I looked around her room... the nice furniture, nice bathroom, the curtains, and then the amenities...... everything in her room was nicer than ours. As I was making remarks on how much nicer her room was, she started laughing. I asked her if she had upgraded. She said no. Then she was laughing harder..... "You should have used Gilbert!", she said and her laughter was getting uncontrollably infectious. "Don't you know they treat foreign tourists better than domestics?," she said in between her laughs. "I get to enjoy a domestic price and a foreigner's quality!," ha ha ha ha.....she was filling the room. I couldn't help myself but laughing out loud, eventhough I felt a bit cheated. I was happy that Mitch got what's important for him, the Internet. But I couldn't stop thinking of Marini's assessment about the difference between an "American name" and an "Indonesian name" in a hotel reservation. I guess it depends on the hotel. Who knows. My first experience. I will never forget the way Marini laughed at it. She still makes me laugh when I think about it. The hotel's receptionist was saying that it's the only room with the best Internet connection. Hmmm... okay then.

Limousines of Malioboro.

Rather than feeling cheated about the room or complaining the whole night, I decided to have a fun night in the city. As they say: time goes by quickly when you have fun. We gathered at the lobby. Rod, our photographer friend from Pasadena, had waited for us. Rod, he's been the most patient of us in the group. "How do you like Indonesia ?," I asked. "I enjoy it so far," he said. I lead the way out to the busy street of Malioboro, and we strolled along. Marini, who was also born and raised in Indonesia had wanted to ride the horse carriage. For many of us who had been to Yogya in our younger days, would want to come back to Yogya and ride the traditional city transports, i.e. the andong (horse carriage) and the becak (pedicab). The street was not as crowded at night as it normally would during the day when storefronts and the sidewalk along the Malioboro Street is crowded with vendors selling statues, batik clothes, slippers, bags, sarongs, hats, nick nacks, fruits, everything..... Vendors love tourists and tourists love them, especially when they can have fun negotiating the price with them.

The Andong.

The city is wide awake at night..... andongs, becaks, pedagang kaki lima, pedestrians, phantom restaurants (kedai) ... they filled the street sidewalk. Indonesia is still in the two weeks holiday. Plus, it's a week night. I can't imagine on a Sunday. We approached one of the andongs that were parked alongside the Malioboro street and I asked the kusir if he knew where Bale Raos is. He said yes, of course. We hopped on the carriage that felt and looked more like a mini horse cart. The passenger area was so tight, where it would typically fit 4 Indonesians in the old days, not so now. Things seem smaller than they used to be. Maybe we've grown up. Or, maybe everything in America is so much bigger than in Indonesia. The four of us were trying to fit in the space uncomfortably, but we laughed as we tried to best fit and intertwine our 8 knees. Marini laughs a lot and very infectious when she does. She made everyone around her happy. Our friendship had once got pretty close to a business relationship when I came to her office and saw Marini the CEO didn't laugh, not once. There is work, and there is play, so they say. We asked Pak Kusir (mr. andong man) to take us to Bale Raos, a restaurant that's known as the Royal Cuisine. I had been curious about this royal cuisine thing. Have I not eaten all of javanese dishes? The small horse ..... poor thing, he had to pull the five of us, plus the carriage. I wonder if he had been fed today. At the thought of a hungry horse having to pull all that weight, I got anxious to get off. The kusir didn't seem to care. He needs to make some money to feed himself and his family. The Malioboro street, though quite famous, is not a very long street. The andong turned left to a smaller street, not very well lit. There were walls on the left and walls on the right. It's like being in a fort.

Bale Raos, The Royal Cuisine.

I didn't realize that we were in / around the "keraton" (palace) of Yogyakarta. The andong stopped at a dead end where we got off. The kusir offered to wait for us while we went in to eat. We walked through the dimly lit courtyard. I did my observation. Things looked a bit familiar to me. I remembered something about when I was young. The dance troop. The court dance. The celebration of 1st Syura (Javanese New Year) in the palace... another story...another time. The restaurant was built within the palace property. The structures around were so typical of kraton Yogya. The Yogya that I used to know. Here, everyone is expected to speak Kromo Inggil with the Royal family members or with one's elders.

Kromo Inggil, the fine language of Java.

The older generation of Javanese people would say: You are not a true Javanese unless you can speak Javanese' Kromo Inggil (the highest level of javanese language). But the truth is, only a few people can speak the fine language nowadays. Those who still maintain the ability to speak, read, and write the language can generate more income than those who don't. For example: when a javanese family is having a traditional marriage proposal to another javanese family, a member of the groom's family would do the formal speeches during the ceremonies as a representative of the groom's family (parents). However, since such speech must be done in Kromo Inggil, it is quite a project to prepare for the ceremony, especially if no one in the family can speak the language. As a matter of fact, it has become a trend in the past 30 years that such a fine speaker is hired to do the job in representing the groom's family, and the bride's family too, will have to do the same for that matter.

The Royal Cuisine at the Bale Raos was nothing to brag about, other than a few dishes that were put on the menu for they were the Kings' favorites from the palace's kitchen. We ordered about 12 different dishes, a family style. Marini and I were pleased to see that our friend, Rod enjoyed the hot and spicy food. So hot that I didn't need to request for sambal. Sambal is the famous javanese hot sauce, equivalent to mexican salsa but hotter and with added flavor of shrimp condiment. There is another old saying "If you can't eat hot sambal, you are not a true Javanese". Being a Javanese has become quite a challenge lately when we realize that so many of us have exited the life of Java for so long. We walked in the dim light of the courtyard to the street where our "limousine" was parked, and headed back to the hotel via the Street of Malioboro. My sister, Ita, and her husband Greg just arrived in the city, they called from the airport. After I made some introduction at the hotel lobby, Greg, Ita, Marini, and I decided to go out to the city's outdoor stage to see what's going on. We paid $1.50 for a ticket per person to enter the arena and joined the crowd dancing the night away.