Jogja continued

After a quick bout of working out with the super models Becca and I embarked on some serious exfoliating and dressed as nicely as we could to keep up with Ms Nanamia, who in the state of her alter ego 'Marrrrria' looked like the Indonesian Sasha Fierce. She was decked out in a ruffled mini skirt and exceedingly high heels and still only came up to about Rebecca's shoulder. We cabbed it over to meet Mega, Nana's best friend and Cittra (CHEE-tra), at Mega's house. We were fed the SPICIEST east javanese stir fry by the stunningly beautiful Mega and put in front of an Alexis Bledel movie about decent wall street bankers who fall in love with that creepy blue eyed hamster girl.

The girls, now in matching stilettos and tight black numbers took us to a live band Karoake joint where they sang some 'Sublime' songs I hadnt heard since 1998 and cheesy Indo pop. Becca and I were coming alive again, feeling clean and vibrant amongst the hospitality of our hostesses. We were soon carted over to a dance club playing Rrrrrr&B and watched as scores of teenage boys attempted partial crypt walks and what was an empty room upon entry was fully by the stroke of midnight.

Nana and Mega posted up in a corner looking like gorgeous mafiosos and the whole world seem to stop by to accept any kind of approval Nana would cast their way. We were introduced to Luppa (which means "forget it" apparently) and told that he could help us get to Bromo and Bali... which would lead to far more future complications than we could have anticipated (with a name like 'forget it'...) but he was very sweet and promised to book us a trip to the Ramayana ballet at the famous hindi temple of Prambanan the following evening. We danced for three hours, and were told by Nana that we should fight through our tired to see the "seessy dancing". We thought this meant Nana was going to do a sexy dance and then we would leave, as she was expert at Lil-Kim-armed-robbery-stance-up-on-the-podium moves.

Side note, know whats EXTREMELY popular in Indonesia... reggaeton... know what sucks for an hour and half straight..? Reggaeton...

Eventually a dj from Jakarta came on and played your average pop R&B club set, but he mixed it well, and we were made to understand what the 'sessy dancers' reference was all about. Three women in torn up tights and small neon turquoise underwear sets came out and began to wiggle... they were awesome for what a muslim country could muster... but not quite as rawkus as 'sessy dancers' are required to get in the states. Eventually poor Becca hit rock bottom and we had to escape.

The following morning we rolled off our respective couches and were taken to breakfast... we INSISTED that the girls leave us somewhere in the middle of the city and not bother with us any further (they are TENACIOUSLY Good hosts). We wandered the palace of the sultan... which was made up primarily of aging manikins in glass cases and then foraged ahead to the markets of Jogja and a batik store .. WHERE WE RAN INTO THE DUTCH GIRLS! SO happy to see their sunburned faces we went to a big lunch. Becca and I proceeded on to do a search for a series of amazing english language tshirts (the photo album of which can be viewed on my facebook now)...

The day ended in us rushing to meet 'Forget It' for the Ramayana ...which started with some seriously sloppy ensemble work but culminated in awesome at the end of the first act when Hanuman, the white king of the monkies, sets the entire stage ablaze (actually ON FIRE ...again I have videos ..but you all will have to wait for faster uploading speed). We were taking back to Bintang cafe in the tourist district... to meet Nana and Mega and found ourselves again in the company of DARLING Emma and Phil. We told the Indonesians all about Phil's extreme bravery and deep sense of chivalry and crowded around a table while pooor 'forget it' cast longing looks at Becca's golden hair (he WAS very sweet).

We proceeded on to Nana's house, me flying on the back of Nana's pink wonder scooter while her long hair whipped me in the face on tight hair pin turns.. I felt like I was riding with Dark Angel and clung for dear life. The evening was spent on facebook and a series of explanations about each other's lives and all the people involved. The Indonesians roll their 'r's and have the most soothing habit of purring through the English language. It was a bust of a night for poor Nana and Mega who I think very much wanted to go out and subdue the town but we were so grateful for the intimacy of a night of girl talk.

We saw a tired Nana on to a plane the next morning for a well earned vacation and prepared for a day trek to Borobodor as chaperoned by Mega, the best guide Indonesian hospitality could Muster.