Today was an amazingly refreshing day. I went to school and only had to study for 4 hours today instead of the usual 6 plus an hour break. That meant I basically had my entire Saturday free! Which was perfect because I had been wanting to go to the Museum Affandi. Even better, the Museum is only a short walk from my school.
As it was lunch time, I decided to take care of that first. There are an immense amount of options on the street for lunch. It's not easy to choose. My method is walking around aimlessly until you look at one and just know that it's the one. Usually it works out in my favor.
Today I ate gudeg (jackfruit), my new favorite. I am quickly learning that unless you say something, you are going to get chicken feet with your meal. It's not that I don't like chicken feet, because it turns out that I do, but all the descriptions of gudeg on the internet romanticize it by saying you get SHREDDED chicken with your meal. Not talons and knuckles to chew on for a few shreds of braised meat. C'est la vie.
The women in the kitchen were very pleased that I was there and that I could have a conversation with them. They wanted to know everything. They were especially intrigued by my tattoos (as is everyone), until I offered to give them one.
The people here are growing on me. When you first arrive, it's hard to tell if people are glaring and laughing at you or if they're just confused and interested. I'm figuring out, as about 20 people in the past 3 days, have asked to have their pictures taken with me, that it is just novel to have a foreigner here. Some people are nicer then others, but ultimately their intentions are all harmless. I enjoy the array of ridiculous conversations I get to have daily.
When I got to the museum, which is hidden off the very busy main road, I was surprised at how beautiful and peaceful it was considering the city is buzzing right on by.
Affandi was an Indonesian artist who left home to pursue his passion for art. He traveled all over India and Europe before returning home to Java.
When he got back to Yogyakarta he started building his home that is now the museum. He married an artist and his children and grandchildren became artists as well. There are 3 galleries on the property displaying everybody's artwork. The children and grandchildren are still alive and making art in Yogyakarta. Affandi passed in 1990 and is buried on the property next to his wife.
The estate and the art were equally beautiful. The detail is amazing and the array of mediums is mind boggling. They were/are such talented people!
There were hundreds of pieces, so I just added pictures of a few of my favorites.
Turns out Indonesia isn't all velvet paintings and popsicle stick art like I expected!
I have been reading a book about Manggaraians. A vanishing culture of Indonesia and as it happens, the very people I get to live with soon. There are a lot of stories in the book about their beliefs and myths. I found one that I particularly enjoyed and wanted to share some of their extra special culture!
"One myth explains why people must use animal sacrifice to communicate with the spiritual world. At the beginning of the world "God" had sent down a book to human beings that explained everything they needed to know. But the man who received it was drunk, and a chicken ripped the book up. Hence now chickens must replace this book and be sacrificed as a means of finding out what God and the ancestors want of human beings. The chickens' intestine are "read", instead of the book."
(The Manggaraians By: Maribeth Erb)
Oh, I love this place.
As it was lunch time, I decided to take care of that first. There are an immense amount of options on the street for lunch. It's not easy to choose. My method is walking around aimlessly until you look at one and just know that it's the one. Usually it works out in my favor.
Today I ate gudeg (jackfruit), my new favorite. I am quickly learning that unless you say something, you are going to get chicken feet with your meal. It's not that I don't like chicken feet, because it turns out that I do, but all the descriptions of gudeg on the internet romanticize it by saying you get SHREDDED chicken with your meal. Not talons and knuckles to chew on for a few shreds of braised meat. C'est la vie.
The women in the kitchen were very pleased that I was there and that I could have a conversation with them. They wanted to know everything. They were especially intrigued by my tattoos (as is everyone), until I offered to give them one.
The people here are growing on me. When you first arrive, it's hard to tell if people are glaring and laughing at you or if they're just confused and interested. I'm figuring out, as about 20 people in the past 3 days, have asked to have their pictures taken with me, that it is just novel to have a foreigner here. Some people are nicer then others, but ultimately their intentions are all harmless. I enjoy the array of ridiculous conversations I get to have daily.
When I got to the museum, which is hidden off the very busy main road, I was surprised at how beautiful and peaceful it was considering the city is buzzing right on by.
Affandi was an Indonesian artist who left home to pursue his passion for art. He traveled all over India and Europe before returning home to Java.
When he got back to Yogyakarta he started building his home that is now the museum. He married an artist and his children and grandchildren became artists as well. There are 3 galleries on the property displaying everybody's artwork. The children and grandchildren are still alive and making art in Yogyakarta. Affandi passed in 1990 and is buried on the property next to his wife.
The estate and the art were equally beautiful. The detail is amazing and the array of mediums is mind boggling. They were/are such talented people!
There were hundreds of pieces, so I just added pictures of a few of my favorites.
Turns out Indonesia isn't all velvet paintings and popsicle stick art like I expected!
I have been reading a book about Manggaraians. A vanishing culture of Indonesia and as it happens, the very people I get to live with soon. There are a lot of stories in the book about their beliefs and myths. I found one that I particularly enjoyed and wanted to share some of their extra special culture!
"One myth explains why people must use animal sacrifice to communicate with the spiritual world. At the beginning of the world "God" had sent down a book to human beings that explained everything they needed to know. But the man who received it was drunk, and a chicken ripped the book up. Hence now chickens must replace this book and be sacrificed as a means of finding out what God and the ancestors want of human beings. The chickens' intestine are "read", instead of the book."
(The Manggaraians By: Maribeth Erb)
Oh, I love this place.