Culture Files: Batik

Last week, a friend of mine and I went to the local Batik "shop", and took a Batik class. It was so much fun! Batik is an Indonesian specialty, and it's process has been refined through the ages. The best batik is still done by hand here, and we got to watch, learn and try.   

It all starts with a white sheet of cloth. Special stamps, or cap (say: chop) are designed out of copper to hold he hot wax and leave a design behind on the fabric. The cap is then dipped in hot wax and placed carefully on the fabric in the pattern that the artist is going for. 

It's much harder than they make it look! The wax is heated "the old fashioned way" over an open flame. More than once, hot, waxy smoke drifted into my eyes and left me momentarily blind and teary. The cap is heavy, and my friend and I both left with blistered hands from our fun.

 

Once the fabric is waxed, it's ready for dye.

These guys made a special color just for us. They normally do light colors in this region, but we asked for very dark blue. Somehow this yellow looking dye made our cloth a midnight blue. We loved it! 

The dyed fabric is then boiled to remove the wax, and inspected to remove any imperfections left by unmelted wax.

 The fabric dried for about an hour while we sat and drank fresh coconut water out of a freshly downed coconut. Delicious!

Once the fabric was dry, we each had 2 meters of our very own hand crafted batik! Here's a close up of the cloth i worked on.

Ode to the Toilet

This post is for Granddad.

 His ultimate interest, nay ZEAL, in the international toilet is nearly unprecedented. His fascination and concern is second only to my mother (shelley's), who, bless her, dreams/nightmares more about public toilets than perhaps anything else. Though, her obsession is based on fear and some animistic beliefs about germs - His is pure enjoyment. 

Before we left for Indonesia, he made us promise him two things: 1. Take good care of one another - 2. Send me a photo of those toilets!

So, Granddad, this is for you. Every time we encounter a strange new toilet, we think of you, and say a little prayer(mostly for ourselves, but for you too)! 

Be it in transit on planes, trains or buses, in the boondocks behind a tree, on a concrete slab inside someone's house (that was a brain buster... no drain, no water, no problem!?), or like the photos below in established places of business, no two toilets are truly the same.

We love you, Granddad! And we hope that this little post will make your day. We're pretty sure it will, and we wish we could be there to hear your guffaw.

This is the toilet in a local private elementary school. Comparatively clean and modern. No muss, no fuss. (Well, maybe a little muss...)

The photo does not do this one justice. There is actually about 2 inches of "water" on the floor, the squatty potty is overflowing, and it's actually about 3 times darker without my camera flash. I was surprised later to find out that the walls were red and white. They looked black. The hems of my pants were wet half way up my shins and i almost slipped on the slick tile.... maybe i should have just found a tree.

Happy Birthday Nadia!

Our big girl is a whole year old! Wahoo!! She's doing tons of fun things; trying to talk, taking her first steps (yesterday she took 3), playing with her toys like she knows what they're for, pretending to talk on the phone... and basically keeping us laughing and running.

Case, she loves those toys you sent. Look at that face!

We had a big neighborhood party on Saturday, and about 40 people came for cake and ice cream. It was birthday madness!

Not one to miss out on cake and ice cream, Nadia fully enjoyed herself...

Our House

We've been here for 3 months now, and we figure it's high time we gave you all a tour of our little house here in Central Java. We've kept it short and sweet, but hopefully it shows you everything you want to see. Also, just a note to mention that today's news about the hotels in Jakarta has not affected us personally, and we are fine.

Enjoy the tour!

Driving

It may not look insane to you, but if you'll excuse us, we think it's pretty scary still. We got our international licenses this past Saturday, so we're legally o.k. to drive. We definitely do not feel ready, but we practice a little bit every day. We even ventured out all three of us on the bike the other day! 

no time for stoppin'

Here are a few recent photos of our busy baby. She is getting so big, and doing all sorts of new and funny things.

At the end of an afternoon at the park, Nadia quietly protests the decision to leave. If looks could kill...

Searching for treasure in mommy's cupboards.

Not walking. Running.

Precarious is my middle name.

Shaking the toy truck to death before ramming it violently into the sand. She's a little bit rough.

Crawling is very serious business.

She loves to climb under and into things. No claustrophobia here.

Stopping for a quick rest to give someone a dirty look before diving off into the grass.

Doing some laps.

FILTHY after a long day of intense playing, and a "tiny" bite of mommy's dark chocolate pudding. :0) Click to enlarge and get a better idea of just how dirty she really was.

Traditional Medicine?

One can only learn so much by watching and listening quietly. Sometimes one needs to dive in and try a thing or two... sometimes. 

Yesterday, I finally allowed one of our helpers to give me a traditional medicine treatment. The "treatment" is hailed as curing aches and pains, the common cold, influenza (a favorite word here, which always makes me giggle), and other various ailments. I made the mistake yesterday of telling our helper that I had a headache. She quickly insisted that I should try the Treatment. I've been dodging that bullet for a few weeks it seems, but yesterday I was slow on the draw and couldn't think of an excuse quickly enough. Before I knew it, Ibu was scraping a coin across my back over and over again until I thought I would have to punch her. Just when the sensation really turned to actual pain, she would move the coin over about an inch and start all over again. All the while she was jabbering away in Indonesian, telling me all sorts of interesting cultural facts, including that she would be more than happy to do this for Nadia too if she ever got a sniffle... only she wouldn't use a coin... she'd use a peeled shallot (???). There are 33 stripes across my back now, and I don't think Nadia would sit still for a single one... nor would I let her.

Truth be told, I didn't feel any better - Yet the marks don't hurt at all, so no harm done. I think they might just be for show. I think too that the marks don't last as long on an Indonesian's skin - I'm so white that I think I'll be wearing these stripes for awhile. Either way, our helpers think we're nice people - for eating their food, loving their rice, trying their language, and now for my submitting my body to torture... ah Treatment.

Yesterday

Today