This riverside locale first began as a refuge for the poor, for those who moved from rural areas in the hope of a stable living and for ex-criminals needing a place to begin again. A multitude of other kinds of people now seek sanctuary from the rigid structures of more formal residential spaces. The area is home to those who want to live without being judged for their personal choices, sexuality, marital status or unconventional occupations – a semi-squatter community full of contradictions. Residents here don’t own their land, which belongs to the Sultan, and they end up paying more to their informal sector landlords per square metre than the rich. But, unlike squatter communities of larger cities, they live in relatively well-established homes and seem to exist without the looming threat of eviction.

It is also a place where young people come to hang out. This is never more evident than on a Saturday night, in a popular hangout spot on the Kali Code bridge, where young people come to drink coffee, croon love songs and tell jokes until the early morning. Amongst the crowd are waria boys, male transgender performers who dress in flamboyant coloured clothes and heavy makeup, and wander between stalls shaking their maracas, made of bottles filled with dry rice or bottle tops. They flirt with customers at the stalls, who pay them to leave them alone or to sing them a love song.

As I walk along the riverfront I make way for an elderly man smiling politely, and quietly mumbling to himself as he sweeps away the dust around his house. His neighbours call out to me to not mind him – he lost his memory long ago and has been sweeping the same spot ever since.

A diverse kampung

Sandal maker

We pass the homes of sandal makers – in one home batik material is glued onto a piece of square card, the toe-hold attached and leather backing added. Once dry, it is passed to the man next door who expertly slices the cardboard square into a neat shoe shape, making the sandal ready for market in one fluid movement. They work quickly, chatting to their neighbours and to passers by – the woman selling sweet jelly with coconut cream, the man selling hot soup, the newspaper seller, a man with his face painted like a pink cat coming home from a day’s busking. Each individual comes with an interesting story, and each has been drawn to Kali Code for his or her own reasons.

A river brings a community into being

The river itself is the centre of life in the community of Kali Code. Once used for washing and bathing, it is now attractive for its quiet calm, rare considering its vicinity to the bustling centre of Yogya. Fifteen years ago, community bathrooms were built with support from the late Y.B. Mangunwijaya, a Catholic pastor and architect who lived along the river for over six years. The bathrooms are maintained with a small contribution from local residents. The river also irrigates the rice fields wedged between homes in any space where rice will grow.

Scarecrow