Another adventure snagged like a lucky coin from the wishing well of fate, my wife, however, would tell you it’s meticulously planned, this luck thing. The ungodly hour departure found most still nestled in their sheets, a time reserved for the devout or the delirious (though for those in pursuit of dawn prayers, perhaps both are true).
Singapore's Changi Airport, a marvel of modern efficiency in my ever-reliable opinion, ushered us through check-in with practised ease. Bags swallowed by the automated maw, the sterile silence devoid of human interaction. Breakfast, a necessary fueling rather than a culinary delight, did little to stir the jaded palate.
Scoot's "Yellow Zone" – a curious moniker considering their signature colour – delivered us comfortably to Jakarta. Routine dictated an immediate currency exchange and a top-up on the mobile data plan, a ritual as familiar as brushing my teeth. Having worked in Jakarta for many years, many things changed but some have not.
Our guide, Dimas Suryo, awaited us at the airport, a familiar face amidst the five of us Singaporean adventurers: myself, the ever-patient Yit Peng, Clara, Susan, and her husband, Eng Thai. A museum docent convention, it seemed, the ladies united by a scholarly passion for the past.
“Suwe Ora Jamu”, the name echoing the warm greeting of old friends reuniting over cups of Jamu – a poignant reminder of how traditions endure despite the relentless march of time. We delved into nearby Blok M art shops, the rustic charm of the area a balm to my soul. Pasaraya, used to be nearby, a cherished haunt from a bygone era, now a permanent memory, its absence a pang in the familiar. Floors upon floors of local treasures – textiles, spices, and even art. My own artistic journey in Indonesia began here, these very streets whispering tales of Indonesian art treasures acquired over two decades ago.
Lunch, a delightful surprise, showcased the smoky magic of Se'i cuisine - Nasi Suli. Chicken, not the usual pork, took centre stage, its succulence a revelation. But the true star was the vibrant yellow Jamu, a potent elixir steeped in history. A tradition that transcends mere medicine, Jamu embodies a holistic approach to wellness, its roots, bark, flowers, and spices a symphony for the senses. A fascinating cultural touchstone, recently recognized by UNESCO, it serves not just as a health remedy but as a bridge between generations and communities.
While Batik remains the true focus of this expedition, I suspect Jamu will weave its way into the narrative. Our adventure, aptly named "Batik Tiga Negeri" (Batik of the Three Lands), promises much. But that, dear reader, is a story for another time.
Back to the present, Kunyit Kunci, the first of many Jamu concoctions, arrived in playful tequila shot glasses. A bracing libation to prime the digestive system for the journey ahead. A delicious lunch complete, we braced ourselves for the 3-4 hour journey to Cirebon. Restroom breaks and final stretches – and then, we were off, chasing the batik dragon's fiery tail.
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