JAKARTA was still half-asleep and incredulously free of traffic when I departed my hotel at 4am. It was a straight shot to Soekarno-Hatta, cruising by vehicles like they were standing still.

After a stint in the departure lounge subjected to the bane of all Indonesian airports, braces of blaring TVs mounted on walls, we boarded the 55-minute flight to the most important city of Central Java, Yogyakarta (Jogja for short), the former seat of Matara