Surakarta, Java, also known as Solo. I made it. After a summer of freaking out about who was going to take over my guitar students for me and which vaccinations I would need, it was actually a relief to arrive in this strange place on the opposite side of the planet. When I stepped off of the plane the air truly smelled and felt different. It smelled of clove cigarettes (Java being the origin of clove cigarettes) and hints of incense and something mysterious I couldn't put my finger on.
   I was constantly treated to new sounds as soon as I first arrived. The Javanese love to keep exotic birds as pets and they have told me it's something of a contest to see who can have the most birds with the prettiest songs. And since the songs were all foreign to my ears, sometimes walking down a small side street sounded like being in a jungle to me.
   There are also more concerts and events here than I could ever hope to go to. Posted above is a clip of a work song from a performance at Balaikota. One of many things I have loved seeing here is music with a purpose beyond entertainment. There's a sweet spot where art and everyday life blend seamlessly into each other.