When Pak Muh bought the land out at Pasar Kalasan the price was Rp600,000sqm. The restaurant and living quarters behind must have cost a pretty penny too. A farmer, as Pak Muh described himself in his surprising English, turned the rear of the allotment into a large vegetable garden that included tomato, chilli, banana trees, and on one side a couple catfish ponds.
Some years before Pah Muh had a regular Californian patron at his Beringharjo food-stall, who settled permanently in Jogja.
So long, Pak M farewelled his visitor yesterday.
The son-in-law painter, Luddy, was tasked with the fish: feeding, cleaning the ponds, arranging the trade. Without the regular pellet feed cannibalistic catfish would turn on each other, Luddy said. An easily manageable responsibility for an ambitious painter, who had been picked up a few years before by a high-end gallery in Sing.
The farmland around Kalasan was attracting hobbyists and retirees like Pak Muh, the motor-cycle traffic steady on the road. When we needed to turn-off to the side-road for Luddy and Amri's house, it was safest from the gravel shoulder.
Artists' dwellings were often exceptional abodes, but the example here for a young family was unexpected. The witch's hat cone roof followed the example of the local Sultan, Luddy explained. Unrendered thin brick was laid flat like pancakes, a carved jati inner screen separated a small reception area from the rear domestic. The tiling was no doubt Luddy & Amri's design, but one that was founded on a wealth of local tradition.
Lush wide greenery below a pressing sky at Kalasan presented like some kind of mental puzzle after more than a month in the tourist hub of central Jogja. For one thing there had been no more than a couple hours rain in the whole of the term.
Mornings with a clear sky saw Merapi volcano in the north, according to the hosts. The Prambanan temple precinct was a short ride away. In the yards of the house small, shapely plantings and stepping stones stood amidst the grey volcanic soil & ash.
Dusk pressed early and rapidly there as in Singapore. Luddy needed to fetch a second helmet for the lift to the bus-stop. Waiting in the driveway, the colours across the wide expanse shifted with the cloud and the waves of the paddy in the breeze. The undulating visual field seemed to breathe contentedly at end of day.
From numerous directions the magrib prayer was being called in a strange, unintentional choir of voices that was a kind of homage to the setting.
Yogyakarta, Indonesia
No comments:
Post a Comment