By Rewi Lyall
In truth, I’ve been wondering what I would write about next for some time. I could have given my views on the ongoing problems regarding the Federal Liberal leadership, but, really, what more is there to say on that score? After all, there was a point in the time I worked for the Western Australian government at which I swore off schadenfreude.
It took a quite special event to spark me once more into action.
I had been enjoying another great night in Jogja, last Saturday. The frequency with which I’ve been DJing is on the increase, and at the moment there is an inordinate amount of action about the town. The Yogyakarta Biennale opened at Taman Budaya Yogyakarta on Friday night (I half-forgot, half-intentionally didn’t take my camera, so sorry if you’re expecting photos), and there is naturally a heightened degree of activity surrounding it.
On Saturday night I played at the Jogja National Musuem for the opening of that venue, in particular for the opening of the Taring Padi art collective’s room there (there will be more about Taring Padi soon). I was asked to play a punk/rock/metal set, and was happy to oblige.
From there, I headed to Benting Vredeberg (Vredeberg Gate, a Dutch era fort) to play an indie/pop set for a private party.
Finally, I went to the widely renowned Bintang Café to watch a couple of bands, one rockabilly (from Magelang), the other blues.
I thought, as I was riding my friend Venus (who I thank for the photo below) home, that it had been a pretty good night, but not that much better than so many of the weekends here. I was concerned, slightly, about the fact that two nights previously the chain on my bike had come off, and renewed my resolve to have the machine serviced in the next couple of days.
Then, as I changed gear turning a question, the bike came to a sudden and unexpected halt in the middle of three lanes of traffic. I had to lift the rear end in order to wheel it to the side of the road as cars and bikes came hurtling around the corner.
The chain was twisted and completely mangled.
Two guys appeared seemingly from nowhere, and asked what the problem was. I showed them. There was some discussion with Venus to which I was a witness. Two more guys appeared, with tools. They set to work.
Eventually, at about 1am, they removed the chain and it was clear that it needed to be replaced. One of them took me on the back of their bike to a nearby roadside kiosk where we woke the man sleeping waiting for business to buy a new chain. They returned to work.
It was clearly going to take a while, so Venus hopped in a taxi at about 1.30. The chain was too long, so a couple of them headed off to get a replacement.
A waria (wanita (woman) + pria (man)) approached me with the unsurprising opening gambit of ‘Hey Mister’. After some very polite conversation and a little crude suggestiveness on her part, she left.
Several passers by stopped for a bit of a chat with the guys, much joking about ensued, none of it obviously at my expense, but who knows, really? It wouldn’t be the first time.
Finally, at about 3am, the bike was ready to go again. I felt a very high level of gratitude and amazement that these guys would just set to work fixing a complete stranger’s motor bike for three hours in the middle of the night without once asking for money. I rewarded them at a level equivalent to that gratitude and amazement. Since then, one of my colleagues has suggested that in similar circumstances I might have been robbed. Maybe I just got very, very lucky.
But I prefer to think of this as just yet another reason that I love it here in Jogja. And here’s a picture.
WTF indeed.