25 January 1992, Saturday.

Today is the third month that I have stayed in Indonesia. I will summarise my days events.
Today I have seen both sides of the setting sun, the paths, the gullies. I will not sleep tonight.
I got up at 11am, Aji is still ill, and he has told me of blood coming out when he excretes, I'm worried for his health.
I made some noodle soup and at 12pm some of my students came to the house. I had arranged to go to their friend's 19th birthday party. I finished eating and left Aji to finish the rice I had started to cook. Then went on to the back of one of their motorbikes to the school and told Suryaman's wife that I wouldn't be able to go with them to Garut. Then went again on the bike to the party.
There were a lot of people there from the girl's school, all boys sat in one room on the floor, and all the girls sat in another. Then they played some music and threw around a matchbox, the music went off and the matchbox was lying at my feet. This meant I had to pop a balloon and then sing a song, I sung More than Words, accompanied by an acoustic guitar, with a pic up amp and I had a microphone. This carried on around the rooms, the music going on and off and the matchbox being thrown around.
After all the balloons had been popped and more songs had been sung, the ones who had popped the balloons, I being one, got a token prize. I got a bar of chocolate. We then ate, I explained ALAM to the people who sat around the amp, that was only 7 people, everyone else had already left, after the food and a prayer. I sang some more songs and then left, first on a motorbike and then just up the road, one of my other students stopped in his van and I and two others that were also on the back of other bikes changed to his van. We drove back to Lengkong, they didn't come in.
I went upstairs and Aji's girlfriend was there, that made me feel happy, then as I lied there, next to them talking, my tiredness grabbed the land of sleep and dragged me off. I awoke at 7pm, Aji's girlfriend had gone, I got up and made an all in omlette, then quickly fried some more vegetables and had them all with rice. Aji had some of the omlette, but refused the vegetables. After food we both went out and talked to the bechak drivers, I bought them all a cigarette each, then showed them my photos. Time went on and soon it was around 10.30pm, Aji had already gone in. I went to one of the bechak driver's family home and watched television, then went onto his house, it was so small, two tiny rooms, separated by a hanging curtain. He went on to explain how much he earnt, such a pityful amount, I just wanted to give him all my money. At midnight I left his house, walked through the alleys in between the close knit houses, to Lengkong and returned to Aji's house. I sat outside the bedroom, and I started writing, I felt very confused and strange after seeing the bechak driver's lot, he worked all day on the bus's and then most of the night riding a bechak, and only had enough money for a bowl of rice.
I then looked at the date 25-01-92, this is not only the 3rd month in Indonesia, but the dates added up to 19. This may have no significance to you, but only I know, the huge significance of this number and this trip.
Aji awoke and went downstairs for a wee and I decided that tonight should be a time for thought and meditation. I went downstairs and sat with Wiwi, she had woken up.
Then at 2.30am I realised I will probably finish this book with the amount I am writing.

It's 4am now, I'm sitting alone, the mosques are all calling to prayer, they sound like a bee's nest, and a slowed down country song.
I'm drawing, but yet to meditate, or do much thinking, although I find I get most thought processed while I'm not thinking.
Now, thinking about it, the calling to prayer sounds like zombies moaning as they rise from their slumber, in some terrible 70's horror fim.
The moan: AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAhhhteeeeeBOW!
The frogs are croaking, their timing is good, it seems too be completely without timing, the same as the moaning coming from the surrounding mosques, and there are hundreds of them, not more than 200m away from each other, and in every direction.
Well, 5am went by, I was lying on the bed but not asleep, and then 6am, I went out and sat in the chair next to the window. The morning walkers, most in tracksuits and the bechaks had started rolling by, the first minibuses, already bibbing their hooters at the first possible chance.
I can hear some birds singing, and early morning voices and conversation. The morning air, it's bulk of freshness, it's certain weight and light carrying ability. The sight of the first leaves being spot lighted, by the tender morning sun.
This time of the day seems so special to me, it was the same in England, but I only ever see it when I haven't slept the previous night. The noises hanging in the air, the tender shadows caressing and clinging to walls.
No meditation, I had sights of myself meditating all night, and really going places. I still did. So, unto the morning of the 26-01-92 , I welcome , and let myself be welcomed.