Bent as a set square, cake baker Ibu Juheria walked the lanes of Benhil cawing, "Kue kue." But today the streets are without her crows and crumbs.
"Do you know where Ibu Juheria is?"
"The one who sells cakes?"
"The one who is bent forward like this?"
"Haven't seen her for ages. She doesn't sell anymore."
A second mobile market man says the same, adding that Grandma lives on the far side of the Kali Krukuk river.
Regally seated on a raised platform is Ibu Juheria, formally dressed in an autumn-coloured batik skirt and a floral purple blouse. Her withered chest is exposed in a deep V. "Oh, it's you!" she greets, reciting my address. "I've stopped and chatted to you."
At eight-five, Juheria retired last year. "I'm tired," she says, rubbing her knees. "And I'm tried of walking through that traffic. I don't bake anymore." It's been a long career: Juheria followed her mother from Sukabumi to Jakarta in 1945, working as a housemaid in Menteng. She began baking in 1972, walking the streets with baskets of cakes for almost forty years.