hey mister!

Today, Sunday, is my day off from saying things that make my Indonesian tutors blush. So, in celebration, and after deciding that I could not stay in bed all day, I cracked open the Lonely Planet, found a place called 'The Ministry of Coffee' and headed out.
For the price of four cups of delicious coffee--one of the big perks for me in Indonesia--I spent the entire afternoon poking around their library (The Complete Works of David Lodge!--what heights!) serenaded by the interplay between the smooth sounds of Kenny G. and the lobotomic rythyms of Dutch house. There were a few other honkys there, and a few of them kept making progressively further elaborate laps around the minstry to go by my table. I wanted to say hello, but I felt a bit guilty starting a conversation under the auspices of 'I couldn't help notice your dermis,--we must have so much in common--let's chat.'
There is a great deal of pollution here in Yogya, and while it fails to create dramatic sunsets, the hour or so of slow sinking has a wonderful ambiance which I took in through a second floor glass wall, despite the disorientation of seeing the sun set in the north.
Possibly the most enjoyable aspect of the day was making my way to and from the ministry which I did by way of 'becak.' Becaks are basically a beach cruiser bicycle in the rear (broad cushioned seat, low slung frame) with a one-and-a-half person bucket/bench seat (complete with a retractable sun canopy that, like most things in Indonesia, is built for someone about 6 inches shorter than me) on the front. While they may masquerade as a form of transportation, becaks really exist as a means for literally scores of grown men (purportedly the 'operator' of the becak) to spend their day napping on the side of the road. The best part is if they are awake and manage to see you (the westerner unaware) coming, they quickly try and straighten up in the basket--where they are invariably horizontally coiled, often smoking--and, using the one English cattcall they know, attract what looks like an easily exploited fare. It reminds me of teenagers in the basement trying to give off the impression they were not only vertical, but at opposite ends of the couch when a parent wanders down.
Its hilarious.
Not only that, its a fun way to travel if you don't have anywhere to go (I don't), get a kick out of hard bargaining, and it gives me a chance to practice my Indonesian.