We live in DIY. No, not Do It Yourself, but Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta, or Special Province of Yogyakarta.

If you work your way far enough down through the various rungs of administrative bodies -- past Bantul, Sewon, and Bangunharjo -- you eventually get to Ngoto, our "dusun" or sub-village. (I hope I've got this right. These things have been explained to me on multiple occasions, but I always wonder if I've quite grasped them.)

Here is the Ngoto news:

All the farmers around us have planted up their paddy fields once again, and we have acres of new rice growing. This is newsworthily beautiful.

The rubbish issue has escalated. Basically, there is no centrally organized rubbish collection here, so everyone has to deal with his/her own. Many burn it. But some dump it -- by the side of the road or in a drainage ditch. Signs saying things like "It is forbidden to dump rubbish here" are pretty much ubiquitous, and though the problem is never really overcome, it stays within bounds. However, recently there was a particularly egregious bit of dumping, and a large, no-nonsense pair of banners went up in response: "The citizens' patience has limits... If you're found to be dumping rubbish along this road, you will be fined 1 million rupiah." That's serious, serious money. It remains to be discovered whose initiative this is, and how the fining procedure will work.

The sound output from our local mosques continues to be of interest. Of course, there are the regular calls to prayer, which are now totally part of our auditory landscape. And our nearest mosque broadcasts very beautiful chanting, which is a joy to listen to. But occasionally you get slightly more quirky emanations. Every now and then, for example, a child is let loose with a minaret microphone, with very curious results. And sometimes, like the other evening, you get a song. It is very lovely indeed to walk back through the darkening rice-fields, clutching one's tea, and listening to some gentle, simple little melody.

The neighbours who lived opposite us moved while we were away. We miss them. They were a nice family, and their morning prayers got our day off to a good start.

And, finally, someone in the perumahan has acquired a nocturnal songbird...