My mother told me a story when I was young, about one of the trips that she made when she was a little girl, living in Indramayu. I thought it must be in the forty's. Everyday she needed to walk long way, just to go to school. Her sisters walked with her too. The road was a simple dirt path. They had to pass a natural fish pond (balong), passed another little village (kampung kecil), and marched along (I mean very long) another dirt path that was covered by bamboo trees on both sides of the path. As a result, the tips of those trees were bending at the top and made a nice roof for that road. That spot were used by people to hide when the rain came. Only...it was always dark (jalan lurung namanya) and sometimes snakes come out.
One special day, she and her two sisters were walking home. Reaching that road, they heard a roaring thunder and they knew a heavy rain was on it's way. My aunt was having a stomachache for who knows why. She started to cry. My older aunt and my mom were saying: hurry...hurry...but then they stopped as soon as they knew that there's no way my aunt would be able to continue.
Suddenly, three bikers were there! My mom said that neither did she or her sisters saw them coming. They were in front of them before the girls even knew it.
One of them said that they should ride with them. My youngest aunt with a stomachache jumped to one of the bike first. The three bikes have spare seats at the back, enough for all of them to have a ride. So my mom jumped to the other and my aunt jumped to the next one. The men paddled like they were in a hurry. My mom closed her eyes and felt as if she was flying. (She didn't know that her sisters were closing their eyes too).
Not sure how long the ride was, but they were home right before the rain came. The bikes stopped, the girls said thanks and goodbye. The three men waved and paddled their bikes away.
Few minutes later, they realized one thing: how did the men know where they live? In addition, how come a regular bike could go that fast? They had no clue and the experience remained un answered.
Another story is about one of my best friend. BTW we didn't know each other until mid 90's though. Ehmm....in a neighborhood where my family lives, there's a row of stores (ruko). One of them belongs to my best friend's father. It is a small chicken noodle restaurant with six tables. Warung Bakmie Ayam. They made a delicious chicken noodle soup, also fried big noodle, vermicelli noodle and egg noodles (kwe tiau goreng, so'un goreng, bakmie goreng and bihun goreng).
But one thing that put question in my mind: how come they asked me how to make foo yung hai and butter fried chicken? Since they are in cooking business, they must have known those other Chinese dishes. But they didn't!
One day I asked my friend about it, and she said that her family wasn't a real restaurant people. Her father was a sailor. He sailed for many years before they save enough money to start a business. So they moved to my family area in early 80's, didn't know what they're gonna do with the money and started to worry about the future. At that point, a man came a long. He kept dropping by every day just to have a chat. He was a regular Chinese guy in mid forty's (as my friend recalled). And he claimed to live at the back of that area, in the row block of 'i'.
Days went by, this man kept having a chat with my friend's dad until one day he encouraged him to start a restaurant. He even told him what to buy, where to buy, how to run the restaurant and how to cook chicken noodle. After a while of consideration the father agreed as long as this man train him. So there it was, a small chicken noodle restaurant and that man cooked as well as served for the first month.
My friend said that she was shaking when she had to ask the customers for the first time, about what they want to drink etc. So this business was really really new for the family. In two months, the father managed to handle everything, as well as shopping at 3 am almost every day to Pasar Senen. The restaurant was become popular. They didn't realize that 'the man' had never come again. He simply disappeared. One day they look for him at the 'i' block area where he said he lived, but no body knew him or even saw a man as they described.
The family was very grateful to this man but he wasn't to be seen again, and remains a mistery.
Few years a go the father passed away but the family keeps running this place until today. So precious that every time I come to JKT, my friend with her husband and child will come to see me with a tupperware stuffed with chicken noodle (of course la yau).
Makacih ya sudah ditengokin.... 
