I'm only a pawn (or the "street of naughty girls")

Fri 13 Oct
It appears that Wati (hostel owner Pak Biwa’s wife) was taken to hospital at 10pm last night – not sure how serious yet but the hospital is an expensive job here. When panic is over I will see if I may visit. In the meantime no more faffing about – off to Wonokroma village about 15 km south which I read about in internet news reports. Two bus rides prove no problem and am dropped off at rebuilt gateway to the village (rebuilt in concrete).Walk up the street, and yes the place has been virtually flattened, just a handful of lucky buildings including the mosque surviving. Most residents are still in their emergency tents – Red crescent, uk rotary (the one photo today to come out blurred!), Italian and other charities. Introduce myself to interested family who give me their history, show me their house under reconstruction and give me a guided tour of the village. Two varieties of re-construction are evident and photographed – 1, as CEEDED dept of the Islamic University, reinforced concrete framing in 3dimensions with brick infil and 2, with low walls (800 –1000mm height) and a bamboo or timber superstructure with bamboo matting or timber(or ply) cladding. My guide, Mufid is a student at the Islamic University CEEDED dept and confirms Thomas’s description of its location, leaving me his contact details. A tented childrens centre (Japanese) is surrounded by kids on bikes (till I pick up the camera of course!). The river in the woods at the edge of the village is substantial, grey-green and inviting, apparently the children do use it for swimming. A glass of water for me (not for anybody else of course till sunset) and I catch the busses back to Jogya and into hostel by 10.30!

In afternoon I may visit Wati and on back of M’bike with Thomas I buy flowers and a vase. Wati pleased to see us and is bouncing about on the bed with only a drip to suggest any problem. Seems like fasting has caused or worsened her bout of diarrhoea but patients are happily allowed to eat (one of her favourite hobbies). She is in the oldest, biggest (and best?) hospital in town – a Catholic establishment with nuns, crucifixes and religious pantings all round although it seems most of the staff and patients are Muslim. The place is clean with the floor being continuously swept and mopped. Husband Pak Biwa arrives bearing sliced white bread, tin of melted butter, lettuce and mayonnaise for western impromptu meal all round except for the patient who has to put up with the luscious grapes.

Back to hostel for shower and collect my dvd that has my blog report from last Sunday for posting. At internet café connection painfully slow – too many connections or wrong time of day? Manage to read my mail but ater two hour have not managed a reply or to complete publishing to the blog site so give up. Thomas is busy ferrying both me and Pak Biwa around on the borrowed m’bike but we three end up under the flyover for more food and iced tea but mostly for Biwa to present his thesis for his organisation (DPP) which includes IPPHTI who I work for to become a national political party sweeping to power on the strength of the farmers votes. He clearly has reservations about my boss Pak TO who he feels is not being entirely open about IPPHTI’s finances ( or at least not to the DPP). It seems that my residence at the hostel, the problems of finding my project village on the map (let alone get there) or even to acquire a mobile may all be part of a gripping power struggle in which I am but a pawn.

Back to the hostel after midnight where Alice is waiting and probably thinking that husband Thomas has taken me to the “street of naughty girls”. I leave Thomas to smooth things over and go to bed but only to be disturbed by Islamic chanting and singing through mosque loudspeakers through the night – the village must be more peacefull?