Continuity and change in Java: a few photos

Lunch at a farmer's home near Bogor, Java, including tofu and tempeh.

At the Taipei airport waiting for the flight to Jakarta I noted that the passengers were primarily young women wearing what I think of as Western dress -- exactly like the models in Canadian magazines. Fashionable knee-high leather boots were a popular option. That and the ubiquitous cellphone had me wondering what kind of culture we might meet in Java.

But it is a deeper and richer culture than I could imagine; adapting and changing, but in its own way. Here are some of the photos I tried to take of the changes, stability and innovation that is happening everywhere.

(hard to see, but worth it)

On the way to a village in Java, our driver stopped to ask directions, frequently. At one long stop we watched this woman pack up her entire sidewalk kitchen, including stove and stool, all the time chatting and laughing with the store owner. One part is hoisted on her back, another will be carried in her arms, and the final basket will go on her head. She walked away straight-backed and cheerful. Later, in an airport, leafing through a picture book, I saw a photo from the late 1800s of a woman with exactly the same sidewalk kitchen, which she carried the same way.

A family out for a Sunday drive. You see this everywhere, in multiples.

In the cities you rarely see traditional dress, unless as a staff uniform at the big hotels. But as we drove deeper into the villages, away from the cities in Java, we saw more and more elderly people, and also more and more traditional dress: like this woman's batik wrap, blouse, jacket and scarf. All kinds of variations exist comfortably side by side in the countryside, on all ages.

These handy baskets have been adapted from bicyles to motorbikes.

Bye-bye water buffalo, hello machine.

Motorbikes rule, seriously, even in this hamlet.

The closer to the villages, the quieter the roads. More people walking with harvests.

Javanese farmers, including organic farmers. At the beginning of each meeting with Javanese farmers all pulled out a pack of cigarettes and furiously smoked a few in a row (everything from Pall Mall to, rarely, traditional ciggies). When our partners hold trainings for farmers there is no non-smoking rule. My yoga friends will appreciate how easily these men sit cross-legged for long periods of time. I wasn't able to.

I only saw this form of transport used by locals in Solo, a smaller city towards East Java.