Suddenly I am lost in the little village, amongst constructions, amongst chickens clucking and roosters and ducks prancing around on stacks of bamboos. My little wooden Javanese hut is quaint, wonderfully compact, a nice big four poster bed, with its own little fan in its ceiling, the silken white bathtub standing outside is like a beautiful glistening tofu in the garden-like outdoor bathroom, maybe it should be called the Bath Garden. And on the other side of the bed, on the outside is a huge deck with a day bed overlooking a sea of green paddies. Suddenly I am back in this little village, after a year, it hasn’t changed much, I still don’t know my way around the little streets. Ibnu, the guy from the village hotel I used to stay in, remembered me, wondered where I came from as I entered the hotel from the back, in heavy rain. Maybe there’s a magic carpet that landed me in the back of the hotel, he might have thought. The paddy fields looks the same, bright green as ever, evenly distributed like a gigantic carpet.
When looking for pilgrimage station, I tend to focus it on the bathrooms and the existence of it's bath tub.
I just can't get over this ceramic bathtub and 2 hours of bath time and crying from so much laughing reading some funny shit by David Sedaris makes my first evening memorable. Because the bathtub is outdoors it has beautifully laid out flowery vegetation behind it and once a while a few large black ants would fall in, and drown into their death. When I look at the two, maybe four ants lying at the bottom of the tub, it seems so tragic, the scale of it, the large tub and the tiny ants makes it feel slightly worse. At about 6.30pm there was what sounded like ten different mosque bellowing the dusk prayers, it was an orchestra with crickets at the treble and bullfrogs as the bass. When I sit in the front porch, I hear trickling water from the water feature right next to the porch. When I sit in the back porch overlooking the vast paddy fields, I see fireflies flying around amidst the blackness.
When looking for pilgrimage station, I tend to focus it on the bathrooms and the existence of it's bath tub.
I just can't get over this ceramic bathtub and 2 hours of bath time and crying from so much laughing reading some funny shit by David Sedaris makes my first evening memorable. Because the bathtub is outdoors it has beautifully laid out flowery vegetation behind it and once a while a few large black ants would fall in, and drown into their death. When I look at the two, maybe four ants lying at the bottom of the tub, it seems so tragic, the scale of it, the large tub and the tiny ants makes it feel slightly worse. At about 6.30pm there was what sounded like ten different mosque bellowing the dusk prayers, it was an orchestra with crickets at the treble and bullfrogs as the bass. When I sit in the front porch, I hear trickling water from the water feature right next to the porch. When I sit in the back porch overlooking the vast paddy fields, I see fireflies flying around amidst the blackness.
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