I could hear the sound of the wistle before the train start to tremble and move along the railway, leaving Manggarai station. Me and other passengers passed the night through Cikampek, Cirebon, Purwokerto with full of darkness since the lamps inside the train is broken, the food and coffee seller passing through using a candle protected with a used plastic glass which has been cut out to protect the wind blow from the opened windows. The other stations wasn’t so crowded as the usual and at last I found what I’m waiting for, an old lady – a kecombrang pecel seller ^^ at Wates station when the light starts to filled in the train. With 3.000 rupiahs you get one packet of breakfast (vegetables, lontong and bakwan that has been cut into small pieces, with pieces of the kecombrang flower that has been boiled and of course poured with pecel seasons (peanuts, chilly, javanesse red sugar which has been mixed thoroughly with water)) served upon folded banana leaves. Yummyyy……
I enjoyed the breakfast and the view outside the train window, the students in their school uniform lining using their bicycle along the street beside the green paddy field. The houses start lining up one by one, getting crowded, and at last at 07.00 am the train passed Tugu station, the next stopped will be Lempuyangan station, my destination. The train stopped and I pick up my bag under the bench, walking out from the train, checking the train schedule to Surabaya until Toko, Imul’s youngest brother pick me up at Lempuyangan.
We pass along under the short highway, on the intersection and based on our conversation, Toko turned left and drove me out to my old senior highschool Stella Duce 2 Yogyakarta Gayam ^^ When we passed in front of the school, I saw two of the teachers Pak Djarot and Pak Himawan. We stopped by to greet and talk for a while, Pak Djarot was my former class teacher for two years in a row so there is much thing to talk about for a while before he left to start a class. Then Pak Himawan took me to the library passing the hall in front of those junior class, I saw Pak Jendro who taught us music class, choir and violin course, teaching in a class. Then at last I saw Bu Sam, she’s on the wheelchair now but her pretty face was still the same, the smile never fade away from her face after she hugs me and told me about the virus that attacked her mobility nervous system. I might don’t understand every detail that she was trying to explain about her syndrome but it was really good to see her in a very good spirit and have a strong faith even though she already resign as a teacher. She was only asking me to pray and send hi to Imul when I told her that I’m planning to visit Imul in Denpasar. Right now Bu Sam working as one of an administrative staff in the library with Pak Akhir, an old man who always spare me more than just one book for me every weekend from the library.
Those memories put the smile back on my face that morning until I get multiple message on both of my cell phone on a way into Imul’s parents house, its from the office mention urgent urgent and urgent, please call. When I called back, damn I was calling just to be mad at for unfinished repackaging label production while the translation and the design, plus the suppliers list have been prepared on his desk to be edited when I’m leaving *grauuuk* what a day, good to be away from Jakarta at the right time *wink wink*
Arrived at Seturan, Imul’s family give me a warm welcoming especially Ibu yah, aah… the house hasn’t change much, I still recognized the gate with the holes tempat bikin sate bawang waktu anak-anak de Britto itu pada belajar jadi pawang ujan biar makrabnya ga bubar gara-gara ujan gyahahaha… Then got a phone call from Itong one of the colleague in Jogja. I took a fresh shower before Itong pick me up at Seturan, he already promised to take me lunch at Bang Ucok when I arrived, so that day we have a very fatty lunch over there nyaaammm……
After lunch Itong have to go back to work and went to Solo, he drove me to the nearest trans-Jogja halte busway in front of Jayakarta hotel at jalan Adi Sutjipto since I’m planning to walking around on the famous Malioboro street with 1A bus route. The halte is kinda small and its hot, I send couple of short messages to Jeng Carra my blogger-date on Jogja that afternoon, protested that I’m gonna be a bacon inside the small hotplate halte in Jogja gyahahaha….
Early afternoon, at last I jump out from the bus and start looking around, Malioboro here I come ^^ I enjoy the walk along the sidewalk filled with souvenirs kiosk, I love sniffin the smell of the goat skin for the bag-key chain-hair clip, the smell of batik which became so dominant lately, its batik season guys. No wonder Jeng Carra bought batik in Bandung, because she got a headache when she sees all the batik gyahahaha… I knew about it later when we met @ JCo *ditimpuk*
I walk slowly trying to spend the time till Jeng Carra’s office hours is end, but I’m walking too fast (kebiasaan ngejer angkot dari esde jeng, susyah, setelannya formula atu je maunya ngebut mulu hohohoho) so after walking around twice and start to get the batik syndrome I stopped by at Mirota Batik, infront of Beringhardjo market just to window shopping. The smell of the aromatics therapy filled the air, the store is just like a museum with bunch of (still) batik clothes, batik sarong, batik pillow, batik mattress, batik mask, miniature of Borobudur temple and the Buddha statue, all kind bags from cloth and rattan, paintings, silver rings-necklace and other accessories, wood ring that mixed with the burned shell, all kinds of dream catcher from bamboo, coconut plate and aluminums, big colored kites that spread on the corner of the store ceiling, aaaah and so much more, you better look it by yourself guys *just visit Indonesia*
Its 4 o’clock already, I walk out from the store and walking back to malioboro mall near the first halte, well I’m too early for the date so I walk back to malioboro side ways directed to Tugu station, still looking around and back to the mall with three batik bags that I bargain cruelly from the seller on my hands. She’s not there yet.
To be continued…