Yogyakarta, Java (Day 12 Cont'd, Friday, 080709)

We crash after our excursion, then wake again for dinner. The destination is Bladok, a losmen and a restaurant, where I finally order the ubiquitous Indonesian dish of nasi goreng, fried rice, and watermelon juice. Eric has an awesome lamb—spicy, tender chunks—and David a tuna salad and vegetable curry (he’s one of those doesn’t-eat-meat-wheat-gluten-cheese-milk-citrus-everything-delicious folks).



The nasi goreng is meh, and I pick at it through the omelette-wrapping, and yearn for Eric's lamb. [grin] But instead of simply ordering the lamb, I order a...side of fries.

Because I'm self-defeating and a masochist. I think also because Eric says I might have some sort of stomach virus--presumably, an Indonesian-food-hating stomach virus.

After dinner, we return to the mall, so the boys can cruise. I'm not interested in local tail and am more fascinated by the difference between American malls and Asian ones. Here, everything's cluttered together, a cacophony of eye-straining colors, in contrast with the comparatively subdued gleam of U.S. shopping centers. I think it has something to do with the intersection of Third World economies and aesthetics, but am too bowled over by the sights to give it further rumination.

I insist that the boys sample the frozen yogurt--see "Pinkberry," "Red Mango," "Yogurtland"--because they've never had the tart "yogurt" flavor--before we return to the Peti Mas. Then, on the way back, David purchases some halal snacks, bakpia pathok, a flaky pastry stuffed with a variety of fillings, most traditionally with green bean (mung bean), and here, with chocolate and some cheesy...substance.



We decide to make an early night of it; tomorrow, we're headed to Borobudur, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and we gotta be up at 4:30.

This is what America looks like to other people: