On the road with Jakartas Five-legged

In the short walk to the car you parked by the curb, you are now a pedestrian. You
walk by the roadside, not on the pavement. It is 28 degrees celsius and the tarmac
has warmed your rubber soles. As usual, the humidity and the heat makes you crave
a sweet iced coffee or even an iced lolly. Beside you, striding past slightly faster, is a
man with a browned white rag slung over shoulders. You exchange glances and give
a quick double-nod. He is pushing a blue and orange wooden cart with bicycle wheels
on each side. The cart has a big hot gas-powered tin of clear soup, and a clear shelf
where you spotted the heaps of meatballs and bouncy rice vermicelli. Knowingly, the
man stops. He unhinges the plastic stool on the rear end of the cart and places it
down for you. You say that you would like chilli with that please.

I am going to write a narrative on the pedestrian life in a developing fast-changing city

that has its own cultural habits being re-organised by changes for a seeming
prospering capital city. But also it is localised(?) view of the street life that we both
complain about and cant live without.