All Calm On The Eastern Front

I'm into the first day of my holiday. I'm calling this the first day as the few hours I spent in Jakarta yesterday do not quite count as part of the holiday in my mind.

Most of what I have done so far is to sit languidly in a train.

It was eerie how much it felt like a train ride in India. On the other side of a blurry window I could see long stretches of fields occupying the spaces between longer stretches of dry forested land. Every now and then there was a small village for punctuation. The houses seemed to huddle for shade under densely planted leafy trees.

I expected the countryside to have the dense green rain-soaked look that I've been used to in Malaysia and Thailand. But I guess it makes a difference that, as my taxi-driver in Jakarta told me, it has not rained much for the past couple of months.

There was hardly anyone to be seen in either field or village. That may be because Ramadan has begun. I suppose people are trying to stay indoors during the day as a way of getting through the month of fasting ahead. Of course there were a few children playing outside, impervious to the blazing sun as only children seem to be.

It was wonderfully relaxing to sit back all day and let my attention wander lazily between the paperback in my lap and the countryside outside. I'm glad I took the train.