A Home Visit

It was a very long day. After seeing the temple, going to a hidden restaurant, and dropping in on batik factory, we split up into smaller groups and went to the homes of some locals for dinner. I consider myself very, very lucky in the family that took us in.

First, we were warned that not everyone would speak English, but at least one person would. In our case, everyone did – and we are talking over a dozen people. Some were a bit more rudimentary than others, but it was more than enough to communicate comfortably.

I knew we were in for a treat when we got to the front gate. It was across a narrow alley. Turns out hour host owns the whole alley. All the buildings along the alley belong to members of his family.

The open dining room above serves everyone who lives on the alley. It is situated directly across from our host’s house. We first sat in their living room and discussed English, music, family history, and travel. Then we adjourned to the dinning area where we were feted so thoroughly that it felt like Thanksgiving. The grandmother of the family made most of it. It was as good as anything we had at any of the fancy restaurants on the trip.

Conversation was lively. I wished I’d had a way to better explain things like just how big the US is. Most of the people I have encountered in the world seem to think it shouldn’t be unusual for people who live on coasts to know me. When I tell them my mother lives 500 miles away, they are amazed.

We were served some of that elusive tea I like so much. Only this time they added lemon juice. The change in pH made the rosy color all go away.

Our host was a musician of some note. In a society where it is very difficult to gain recognition for musical prowess, and even harder to earn a living at it, our host had performed in concert with the local philharmonic more than once.

As to the rock musicians who joined us, I really, really wish I had gone ahead and brought my mp3 player. I think they’d have found we had some common ground.

After eating, we went on a walking tour of the neighborhood. We were introduced to a batik block maker, more distant relations, and taken to the local square. Even late at night there were people about.

Then we were taken to this tomb on the left. This is the tomb of the founder of Yogjakarta. It turns out he is the direct ancestor of our host, who earns a yearly stipend to care for and maintain the tomb on behalf of Yogjakarta. People from all over the city will come there at all times of the day to pray and pay their respects.

In many ways, this was the highlight of the trip for me. The living, not the dead. I see tombs fairly often.