I landed back in Indonesia a few days ago, and I decided to go to Yogyakarta or Jogja, for short. It's one of the most developed cities in Indonesia located in Java island. I spent my college years in this very city, and there are so many strings that tie me to this place. I left this city some years ago, after I graduated. In the past years after I moved out from here I visited back a few times. It's funny that when I came back, there are so many nooks and cranny of the streets that feel like a stranger to me even though I passed them thousand times before.
On my second day, my friend and I decided to take a walk in Malioboro. If you ever been to Bali, Malioboro is the Kuta of Jogja. The streets full of stalls and stores that sell cloths and street food, the aisles inhabited by hostels and cafes. Back then I wasn't very pleased to go to this place as it's almost always so crowded and the traffic could be very annoying (I still do actually), but there are times like this sometimes when the street is not so busy and you can enjoy your walk along this area. And as I walked down the aisle of stalls and stores there, I was washed by a good wave of familiarity. I knew this place and it recognized me.