Monday, March 14, 2016

12 Maret: There is a refugee camp cum retirement village quality to my mertasari warung the pondok merana some mornings: lone males sit with their dogs staring into space as the sun rises to 2 on the dial. Occasionally a cyclist in a spider-man outfits swooshes past and is totally ignored, except by me ( colour and movement are my thing). Eventually Pak Kiul starts his satay-fanning and clouds of smoke engulf gathered grandchildren.