Info

we took to the woods

Been hitchhiking motorcycles around Jakarta for two days (ojeks here work often like Moscow’s gypsy cabs, a chance for a local to make a few rupiah). On the way to drop some of our old clothing and shoes at the Yayasan Vincentius Putri, an orphanage for girls, I saw through the rush and gridlock: bearded men collecting donations in fishnets on long poles outside of a mosque, as calls to prayer were played, muffled and loud; innumerable wooden food carts with blue eggs in the little windows and hot broth sloshing around, and trash picker wagons, and barefoot begging mothers; the Singapore and Polish embassies next door to each other (perhaps they share flags); so many lovely slim young men with guitars; one of those orange dangling signs suctioned on a car window warning of a child passenger, but this read “Baby on Road”; small boys crouching on the slender concrete median of a busy highway tunnel next to young chained monkeys which were wearing sunglasses and sitting on miniature rocking horses; chickens in major intersections.