Thursday, September 10, 2009

Jakarta - One Day is Enough for Me

With a reputation for crime, poverty, pollution and grimy streetscapes, I wasn't all that excited about my next stop: Jakarta. On top of all of that and some recent seismic activity, a bombing aimed at foreigners killed about 11 people around a month before my stay, though I fortunately don't tend to stay in the hotels that symbolize the opulence of the Western world.

Still in the Keis, ready for a few legs of travel, I had to leave early, so I awoke at 4:30, had a quick breakfast and finally got my bill from Mr. Beny, as many things in Indonesia are paid afterwards, instead of beforehand, as you would probably do in the US. Though the room was only $6 a night, I had no idea what I'd be charged for food, and I was actually a bit annoyed to see that the price for the meals was actually pretty high compared with the average prices in the area. All in all, it was a wonderful deal, and I would have been happy to pay just under $15 a night for that wonderful location, exceptional hospitality and three home-cooked meals a day if that price had been quoted in the beginning, but it was just the fact that I had an expectation of paying even less, and then I was a little angry to see that lunch and dinner were about $3.50 each which sounds low but it definitely high for the Kei Islands. I thought about saying something to Beny about this, but I couldn't find the right way to phrase it, so I sat in silence on the way to the airport. As it began to rain, we got to the tiny house that served as the baggage claim, check in, security and waiting room. Since the metal detector was broken, they just looked at me and literally touched my backpack, feeling that was enough assurance that I wasn't carrying anything dangerous in my bags. Though the security was really lax, I didn't figure there was much danger in a region this remote on a tiny plane flight. This day would simply be a travel day, though I was a little worried about the logistics. I had booked two flights with different airlines for the day, and a third flight the next day, allowing plenty of time for connections in most places (3 to 4 hours in tiny airports), but the frequent delays and last-second cancellations that happen all over Indonesia threatened to ruin my plans, so I just hoped for the best. My first flight from the Keis took off as scheduled, so I was happy about that.

Within an hour, I was back in Ambon, the capital of Maluku, where I had four or five hours to kill before my next flight. I waited around and eventually found Michael, the super friendly guy working at the information booth who had helped me find a place to stay in his aunt's guesthouse during my stopover in Ambon before. We chatted for a while, and I showed him pictures of my trip, and then I finally had to get going, so he wished me well and was off. My next flight had a stopover in East Java and then ended in Jakarta. The view from the flight was also pretty interesting, looking over the haze and over-populated island of Java, finding town after town, along with rows of pointy volcanic peaks jutting up through the layer of clouds and smog below, leaving no doubt that these islands were shaped by volcanic activity. I wasn't particularly excited about visiting Jakarta, though it was a good hub to get back to Malaysia with some really cheap flights thanks to Air Asia, and I figured it might be good to see the capital, if just for a night.

I contemplated trying to stay near the airport, an hour outside the city, but I decided to go for the true experience, taking the bus into the center of the sprawling capital of about 10 million people. Hoping for the best, I soon realized that this wasn't going to be one of those cities that would come as a pleasant surprise (e.g. central Mexico City). The bus stopped and started in the endless congestion, passing through greying buildings and apartment blocks set against the polluted grey sky. Slum towns stood along the side of the rivers, shared walls and tin roofs enclosing the tiny shacks, with heaps of trash lining the river, often burning piles of garbage, part of what pollutes the air and even gets blown up to Singapore and Malaysia. After about an hour and a half, the bus turned down one of the central avenues of Jakarta, revealing a few stately buildings interspersed with a few of the more common, less attractive structures of the city, with the state mosque being one of the most impressive-looking buildings in the city. As I thought about it, if you put together a few pictures framed just right, you could try to give the city an alluring image, but even that wouldn't last. We were soon at the bus station in the center of town, next to a massive obelisk erected in honor of a controversial former leader of Indonesia, and I bargained and finally hopped into a little tiny contraption that was basically a three wheeled motorcycle (the two wheels in the front) with a seat attached in the front and a hard cover over both the passenger and driver, creating a little bubble that would make a Mini look big. I only had to go a few minutes down the road, and the price was right, so I jumped in.

My area was the popular area for backpackers/shoestring travellers to stay in Jakarta, though I wasn't impressed with the vibe. The streets were rather dirty, and the hotels/hostels didn't seem welcoming or clean. I reluctantly checked into a dirty, tiny hotel room for $6-7, sweltering in the heat of the concrete box with no windows, happy to have an overhead fan to try to cool things down. Not wanting to stay in the oppressive box, I went down the road looking for my last night of Indonesian food. I passed down the alley without finding anything interesting, looking for something simple like a roadside stall with noodles or fried rice. I had heard of a street market nearby, so I was headed there when I was greeted by a 'friendly' taxi driver. I kept walking as I talked, though he followed along, offering to show me the place to which I was headed. I felt that I could get there on my own, but I didn't see any harm in him walking with me, so I kept up the conversation. Along the way, I smelled the lovely aromas coming from a Middle Eastern restaurant, and my new buddy urged me to check it out, but the prices were much higher than I wanted to pay, so I kept moving. I was just around the corner from the market when I saw a few obnoxious neon lights just above me. At the same time, my friend implored me to check out this place, surely they'd have what I wanted. Looking up, I saw the red, white and blue neon sign of the American Grill, offering up burgers, steaks and fried chicken. I explained again and again that I was looking for cheap, local food and not a touristy, terrible, overpriced version of American food which I could have at home. After a minute of trying to convince me, my friend turned back into a random guy on the street, abruptly telling me that the market was "over there," and he moved back down to the street to his corner, obviously disappointed that he couldn't get commission off bringing me to an expensive restaurant on the road.

My dinner was just a simple noodle dish, followed by a second dinner of chicken sate/satay, the popular chicken skewers cooked over charcoal with a peanut dipping sauce. It was so good and so cheap that I couldn't resist the smell of it after I finished my first meal. Heading back to the hotel a few blocks away, it was already dark, and I didn't have a great feeling about the street, so I quickly made it back, passing what I assumed were a few 'ladies of the night.' The next morning I was looking for an internet cafe and found another prostitute hanging around right outside the internet cafe, asking me a few times if I liked women, if I was interested, etc. I tried to move away, but the internet cafe near her was actually the only one open at the time. The whole place was a little shady, as the signs on the wall made it clear that CHILDREN couldn't view porn sites, and each computer had its own tiny booth with frosted glass around it, so I wasn't really comfortable anyway, making it worse when my little door opened, and I turned to find the woman who I assumed was a prostitute there, asking me again if I wanted her services. Then, minutes later, her friend popped his head into my booth unannounced, looking for her. As you can imagine, I quickly got out of there, and I was happy to be out of Jakarta in a few hours. I'm sure the city has its redeeming qualities, but I honestly didn't really find any of them, so I wasn't too disappointed, though I was a little sad to be leaving Indonesia in general, as I had enjoyed an incredible variety of beaches, volcanoes, forests, mountains and tons of great, cheap food during my six weeks there.

(I actually only took one picture in Jakarta, showing a typical street scene near the center of the city. "But Derek, that's quite unlike you." "But that's what I did, and I was acting under my own free will, so explain that."...I just blew your mind.)

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