The afternoon the wax ran off the canting
The heat in Yogyakarta during the dry season doesn’t arrive in waves. It settles. By eleven in the morning, the…
Salt and light on the Madura Strait
The first thing you notice on a Madura salt pan is not visual at all. It’s the sound — a…
Before the tour buses arrive, the fog arrives first
The driveway up from the main road is unlit, and the rental car’s high beams catch only the next ten…
Fort Belgica at 4 P.M., and a Padlock at Dawn
The ferry from Ambon arrives at Banda Neira just before midday, which is the worst possible time to see the…
The Price List Still Had the Ink
The ticket booth still had a price list pinned to the counter. Fifty thousand rupiah for adults. Twenty-five for children….
The Surgical Mask and the Respirator
The mask is the detail nobody warns you about. Not the heavy, industrial respirators the miners carry, but the cheap…
The light that moves through the terraces, and the men who watch it leave
I had been standing on the same patch of mud for nearly forty minutes when a man carrying a bamboo…
The Shape That Light Makes in a Saltwater Lake
The jellyfish in Kakaban Lake evolved without predators, which is the kind of fact that sounds like a travel brochure…
The view that took three attempts to find
The problem with the standard sunrise viewpoint at Gunung Bromo is not the view itself. It’s that everyone knows about…
The waiting hour at Borobudur
The stone felt warm already, even at half past five in the morning. I had put a hand flat against…
