Yogyakarta, Indonesia

Since it was my last evening day in Jogja, I changed a bit more money to book my volcano tour through Bromo. I went back to the front desk at the hotel. The place had been great from their generous breakfasts to their helpfulness. I figured if anyone deserved a commission for booking a tour, it should be them. The woman at the front was quite delighted I was booking the pricier three day tour. She even managed to get my Surabaya portion as a discount, proving the shadiness of Guntur and his business partner.

On my quest to find more vegetarian food, I ran into the man met a few days ago and ran into yesterday as well, who I had nicknamed Indo Tee. We chatted for a bit. When I mentioned supper, he offered to show me a nearby restaurant with great vegetarian options, including the jackfruit curry. I was a bit sceptical since it involved a motorcycle ride and I'd rather stay in my comfort zone, so he found a closer option we could walk to.

Tucked away down a little alley, was a larger woman in a white apron behind a food cart. She filled up his plate first, while he explained what each dish was and what dishes were meat-free. I ended up with a heaping plate of jackfruit curry, omelette, soy bean dish, and chili salad. It cost me just over a dollar, which was incredible. We kept chatting at one of two small tables as I found out all about his job and favourite ventures as a tour guide.

"Is there any live music in Jogja?" I asked.

"Yes, people play drums and Indonesian instruments on the streets. I can take you tonight. Do you want to go?"

"I thought you had plans with your friends tonight." Curiosity had prompted my first question. I hadn't expected his invitation.

"No, no plans. I can take you on my motorbike, see Jogja city, see music."

It sounded like a city tour by night. I rarely got the chance to go out at night anymore as I was too cautious to go out on my own, especially in the city. But with a local chaperone, who also by day worked in for a tour group? That seemed legitimate. If he asked for money partway through, so be it. I was willing to pay since he was nice and helpful. My earlier motorbike apprehension melted away.

"Okay, sure, but I have to pack first. I'm leaving for Bromo early tomorrow morning."

We agreed to meet back at this spot in an hour. When I packed my night bag I made sure to bring my less expensive camera and the safety cat, just in case. I also sent another message to my friend to let her know my plans, even if she was half a world away.

At eight, we met up and he had even brought a helmet for me. We went to the central area. We passed the train station and other attractions he continued to point out. He would have made a far better guide than Guntur.

At our first stop, we watched traditional music performances with drums, xylophones, and high pitched mallet instruments that he must have been referring to earlier. It had a fun vibe and apparently several groups performed every night, music students from the university. I wasn't the only woman out either, but it felt a bit safer with a chaperone.

We drove to Sultan's Palace and the grounds outside of it. The whole circle lit up  from the strangely illuminated vehicles. Sets of two bicycles joined together with an added bench seat, and covered in LED lights, depicting all sorts of images of animals or even Angry Birds, drove around blasting music from speakers attached to car batteries. Innovation never failed to impress out here.

In the center of the round road were two large trees. Indo Tee, whose name I found out was Dian when he inquired if I even remembered it, explained that people would get blindfolded by their friends and try to walk through the two trees a total of three times. If they could do this, they'd have a good life, so the legend said. We watched as groups of friends would walk alongside their friends and cheer them on. They'd end up in a fit of laughter if the friend ventured far from the target, which happened often enough. 

"Many lovers come to this park."

The statement caught me off guard. I had my suspicions when Dian paid for parking and gas that this could be a date. Was this his way of saying so? I decided to brush it off until I could be sure.

Once we had sat and people watched for a fair length of time and I tried to snap a blurry photo or two of the light-bikes, he asked me if I wanted to try rice wine, hang out and play cards. He hit my soft spot. I loved a good wine and had told my girlfriends back home I'd bring them back some rice wine for the wine and cheese night they were planning to celebrate my return.

He knew someone who sold the wine and told me the price. It was to what low quality wine cost back home, and he offered to split the cost. At that point, I figured it must have been pricey if he wasn't offering to pay for the whole bottle.

I also had to decide if I wanted this to be a date or not. I knew his intentions now and if I paid for the whole bottle I could walk away with a light conscious and not feeling like I had to go the extra mile to act like this was a date. An extra four dollars to pay for the whole bottle myself meant I wasn't taking advantage of his affections or kindness. I knew the wage differences here were big and even my Thai wage had been higher than the average here. Even if he had inflated the price to pocket a little as some in the tourism industry did (not that I believe he did, it still wasn't enough to bother me. He had given me a unique experience in the city so far.

My mind went back and forth as we pulled up at the vendor until finally I just offered him the whole amount. He asked if I was sure I really wanted to buy the whole thing. I nodded.

If I couldn't decide if I wanted this to go any further romantically, the answer was no. The wine store turned out to be a man with a random stand that may have also sold auto body parts. It was rather dark. I really hoped it was normal wine without any sneaky additives.

I watched the route we took back to his place and tried very hard to figure out trail back. In case things went wrong. It  was always a good idea to have an escape route. We turned a few too many times and my stomach sunk. He was now my only way back.

We pulled up at his place and he urged me to be quiet as we entered. His grandmother was in the living room watching TV and I assumed bringing home foreigners was probably frowned upon. We sneaked past the sheet that served as a door into his room. I did find the presence of other people, like his grandparents, comforting.

The room was basic, a floor mattress, some random crate furniture and walls that didn't quite reach the ceiling. A couple posters decorated the white walls. He brought out a collection of burnt CDs and his Discman so we could listen to some Western music. The Discman was rigged up to large speakers, whose wires scaled the walls, over the top and into the other room. In the absence of installed wiring, create your own.

We played cards and drank wine until I hit my limit of comfortably buzzed while still being in control of my mind. The wine tasted like sangria and was quite nice. The night didn't get weird until the end when I started to hint that I wanted to go home and had to leave early in the morning.

He told me it was no problem if I stayed over and I very much disagreed. I wouldn't stay over at any man's place that I had just met, even if it had been a city where I knew the culture, my way around and had safe contacts a short distance away. Some Western women acted that way and Hollywood, a lovely propagator of 'culture', made no effort to work against that assumption. The important distinction was not all women acted the same. Movies were severely exaggerated for entertainment purposes and not every tourist was looking to hook up.

He started to talk about massages and how he gave great ones. I made it clear I wasn't interested, but he took my arm anyways. I let him massage from my hand to my shoulder before I stopped it. At that point, he grabbed the other arm. Since pulling my arm away had done nothing last time, I repeated that I should be getting home and didn't want a massage. I even tried telling him I had a boyfriend, which was a lie, but there was little else left to try.

He still wasn't getting the message, so I asked him which direction I should take to walk home on my own. It was a tricky statement because I was also admitting I didn't know where I was. Something I had hoped to avoid. I wasn't sure if I was bluffing or not with the walk, but it really grabbed his attention. Being lost in the dark streets of a city I didn't know had even more risks.

"No, no. I'll take you home now. Just one thing first."

He leaned in toward me and I dodged out of the way. "Still have a boyfriend," I said.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll take you home."

We drove back to my hotel in silence. He apologized again and I told him it was alright, also thanking him for the earlier part of the evening. As I passed the front gates, one of the other employees was at the front gate laughing with the security guard.

"Good night?" he asked.

"Alright."

I went back to my room, taking the time to Skype with one of my friends and share this crazy experience. The thing I was most thankful for, was that in the end, Dian did respect me enough to take me home without forcing himself on me. I couldn't be thankful enough for that as many, many situations didn't end in such a positive light. I regretted that I had probably made him feel bad about the situation when deep down he seemed to be a good guy, but I also needed to get out of the situation safely.