Planet of slums

At first, I thought Jakarta might be an interesting place to visit because it tends to pop up in history and political science classes. After reading the Lonely Planet, I was less enthused. Nevertheless, we found cheap tickets from Hong Kong to Jakarta, so Jakarta was our firs stop. As it turns out, my first intinct was right; Jakarta was an interesting and rich place to visit, and was a nice introduction to Javanese culture. I'm glad we visited.

We arrived in Jakarta quite late, stood in line to get VOA (Visas on arrival) and went through customs. The minute we went outside, we could feel the heat literally hit us in the face; Jakarta is always an average of 31 degrees  Celsius. We then waded through the sea of obtrusive taxi drivers yelling "Taxi? Transport?" to find our way to the public bus stop, where we hopped on a bus that took us to the Gambir bus station in the center of town, only a 15 minute walk from the ubiquitous "backpackers street," a staple of every major city in Southeast Asia. However, unlike the normal backpackers streets in Southeast Asia, Jl Jaksa was almost empty, and it was only 10:30 at night (Khao San in Bangkok would have been crowded and alive at that time of night). Clearly this was low backpacking season.

The other thing we noticed immediately is that apart from the lack of tourists, there was also a very clear lack of women. Wandering up and down the streets, we did not approach one woman. It actually made us a bit uncomfortable to walk around and only see middle aged men, especially in a conservative Muslim country like Indonesia, and a volatile city prone to violent crimes like Jakarta.

We found a hostel quite quickly for only $7.50 USD for an air conditioned room. We then went around the corner and wandered down Jaksa in search of a quick drink, as we had had dinner on the plane. Most of the bars, of which there were few to begin with, were practically empty, so we opted for the one lively spot on the street, a small bar and restaurant which had a live band singing old American hits. We had a seat, and Angela ordered a Bintang beer (the local beer) and I ordered a fresh lime juice, one of my favorite things about Southeast Asia. We relaxed for a little bit with our drinks before heading off to bed. I had had a final that morning, and Angela had spent all of the night before writing her term paper, so we were both quite exhausted. The drinks had a soporific effect, and we dragged ourselves back the hostel and fell straight asleep.

The next morning, we awoke, took out showers, and set out for the day. Our first task was to compare plane tickets and train tickets to our next city (we had checked a couple prices the night before amidst our search for a bar). We had breakfast first; I had the famous Indonesian dish, Nasi Goreng, which was fried rice topped with a fried egg. Angela had Gado Gado, which was sauteed vegetables in a peanut sauce. Both foods were very spicy, but had a distinct flavor. Curry was clearly a common ingredient, and the flavor of the fried rice reminded us of Indian food. We left the restaurant, feeling full and satisfied (as it only cost aboubt 2 US dollars a piece).

Once we exited, we heard what the Lonely Planet called "the soundtrack of Indonesia," the Muslim call to prayer. I very much enjoyed hearing the singing over the loudspeakers that resonated throughout the entire bustling city. Jaksa was much more alive in the morning, and we finally saw the women population, although they were still largely outnumbered by men. Many of the wore head scarves, although their manner of dress was still largely different from Arab muslims. While conservative, their dress still reflected an interest in fashion, and their headscarves often had beautifully and intricately embroidered or beaded designs on them. The colors of their clothing and headwear were often vibrant and multifarious; I found much of their clothing quite beautiful.

After that, we walked down the main street for a few blocks to the Gambir train station, where we bought eksecutif (the Indonesian spelling) tickets to Yogyakarta, our next desitnation. We then realized we had 7 hours to kill before our train, so we decided to go an visit the historic district of Kota.

I had read that in Kota, there was a famous bar called the Cafe Batavia in the historic district. I had also read that Kota was one of the more shady districts of Jakarta, and should be avoided alone or at night. This suprised me, because often times historic colonial district is the richest and most well kept part of the colonial cities, such as Victoria's Peak in Hong Kong. Once we got out of the cab in Kota, however, we realized that it was not the case. We were let out on an abandoned allyway with decrepit buildings covered in rust, dirt, and graffiti. There were a few men walking around, which made us slightly nervous. We were afraid that the cab driver had misunderstood us until we saw a sign for Cafe Batavia parking. We turned the corner to go inside, half expecting to see a worn out old building with crumbling walls.

To our delightful surprise, we found a beautiful colonial building with a large bars and a stage with new musical equipment. The walls were covered in old pictures of stars from the 1920-40s, and lightly playing the background was Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. We were immediately greeted by a friendly staff who spoke English quite well, and we were told we could look around the cafe before ordering. We enjoyed the old colonial decor, and asked about the history of the cafe. The waiters told us that the bar had only opened 10 years or so ago, but the building dates back the 1900s, where it also served as a cafe for Dutch Colonizers. The place was beautiful, everything from the garden to the bathrooms was decadent (we were particularly happy to go to a bathroom with a sit down clean toilet, and marble sinks).

After we looked at all the pictures, we sat down in luscious fat red arm chairs and ordered a very overpriced drink and desert, to split (because of the prices). We ordered a "chocolate coconut cookie" which was chocolate ice cream, coconut ice cream, Frangelica and Bacardi. We also ordered a chocolate torte and creme brulee. The whole snack was heavenly, and completely worth the price.

We then left the bar to go walking around Kota. We saw some old buildings and museums, which sounded much more interesting in the Lonely Planet than we saw on the strip. Truthfully, we were less than impressed by the whole area, but it did give us an accurate portrayal of the poverty that existed in Jakarta. There were many people lounging around the abandoned buildings, seemingly with no place else to go. Across the street from the cafe were slums, with roofs built from scrap metal and clothing hanging out the windows. People looked strangely at us, as (we realized later) people were not accustomed to women traveling alone, regardless of how we were dressed. We walked through an abandoned parking lot to a famous bridge, the Chicken Street Bridge, and walked back down the main street. Then, with nothing else to do, we hopped a small orange go-cart back to the train station.

Next to the train station was a famous national monument erected by Sukarno, the father of the Indonesian Republic. It has, according to the Lonely Planet, been dubbed "Sukarno's Last Erection," named so because of a less than flattering memory of Sukarno and the uncanny likeness the monument has to a phallis. Other such monuments have been given disrespectful names, as Sukarno was driven out of office due to an overwhelming lack of popularity. We wanted to "whiz up the shaft" as the Lonely Planet put it, but it was already closed, so we walked around it. Then, we sat in the garden nearby and relaxed until it started to rain.

We then took a small little orange tuk tuk back to our hostel to pick up our stuff. We needed to eat first, though, so we went to a place that had Sumatra style padang. What one is supposed to do is just order everything, and you are charged for the bowls you clean. We didn't really understand, so we ordered some beef and chicken only to find out we were given one chicken wing and a 2 inch square of overcooked beef. Angela were quite amused by the miscommunication and the small piece of cold beef sitting in front of us. Nevertheless, we ordered some nice fried chicken and steamed rice.

After our rather humorous, yet unfulfilling dinner, we went to get check our e-mail and get stuff from our hostel before setting off to the train station.  I checked mine first, and told Angela I would meet her back at the hostel. When I got there, there were many men sitting on the porch smoking cigarettes and chatting, and I gathered our things and sat separately from them. They looked at me in a funny way and said "why are you sitting all the way over there?" I guess I underestimated their friendliness.

They invited me to sit down, and we began chatting about America. They (surprisingly) knew my state because they all knew the John Denver Song "Rocky Mountain High" which made me laugh. They also asked me questions about American politics, the election, and the candidates. They informed me that Senetor Obama grew up in Jakarta, and told me where his elementary school is. They seemed quite proud of this connection. They then asked me why Americans were allowed to have guns; they simply couldn't fathom why people from such a developed country needed guns. They told me that one of those who died in the Virginia Tech Massacre was a Ph.D. candidate from Indonesia, and they seemed somewhat personally affected by this fact. This also made me reevaluate why Americans think they need guns as well.

Finally (and quite late) Angela arrived and we went to the train station. We made it just in time to board the train, where we bought first class tickets on an overnight train. Jakarta was an eye-opening experience, and taught us a lot about the tone of the country, including its people, social status, poverty level, relgious culture, and many others. Much of what we learned from Jakarta carried on to the rest of our trip.