A small notebook about neighbourhoods, warung food, and taking the long way home.
There is a nasi uduk stall near the end of the street that is never quite in the same place twice. Some mornings it is under the mango tree, some mornings it is forty metres down by the laundry.
I asked once why it moves. The answer was about shade, and about which neighbour is awake early enough to complain. Both reasons were given equal weight, which felt correct.
The rain here keeps office hours. You learn to read the light around three and decide whether the errand can wait until tomorrow.
It almost always can.
Everyone agrees this is impractical, and everyone is right. Walking adds thirty minutes to most trips and roughly doubles the number of people I end up talking to.
I have not yet worked out how to explain that this is the point.