Jakarta Tales - Close Encounter with the Creepy Kind

Sitting outside Sarinah attracted an ultra-friendly local. This photo only courtesy of www.indonesiapics.com.



Jakarta, Indonesia - I decided to check out Sarinah on my way back from the National Monument - aka Monas. I liked this store for several reasons. If you missed buying souvenirs from any of your itinerary, Sarinah might have products from those places. They sell the best quality handicrafts, local products and souvenirs at the most affordable prices. At the first floor, you will also find a video nook called "Music Plus" where I purchased several Indonesian DVD titles. I just couldn't help myself, gawd! I thought i was done with that last night at Plaza E-X.

After getting a few more items - gifts for family, I came out of the store and decided to kill the time from the ledge of the shop. People-watching might not be a bad idea considering I had 3 hours with nothing to do. And I felt I've had enough walking for the day.

I pulled a DVD from my haul and just as I was trying to read through its Bahasa credits, an Indonesian guy to my right started chatting with me. It was cool. I love meeting locals. But this one had a particular "tune" that was starting to get weirder by the minute. Was he asking for money? There's always something, and I am far from being paranoid. I'm used to the ways of the big city. And this, after all, is the capital. I've been around too much not to notice these things.

"I like you. Your face looks good," he started and went on further, "... and I like your body!" Eh? Something is lost in translation? I am, for all intents and purposes, not muscular nor gym fit. So that made me a little queasy. Then he went on, "But you are..." - motioning with both hands - yes, that I wasn't tall! Now isn't that pleasant - for someone actually sizing me up? My new friend seems to have dispensed all manners of proper decorum.

His name was Irwan. He'd look at me intently, occasionally tapping my arm. "You have nice teeth," he went on! Would I be too rude if I just leave? I have nowhere else to go. I've already checked out from my hotel - it was just the baggage waiting for me there. Neither was there any new movie at Cinema 21 - I"ve seen "Unstoppable" in Manila and "Harry Potter" last night. So I just played along.

He kept asking me about anything Filipino. What's the national costume? Why are Philippine leaders always corrupt? Why are our rallies relentless and frequent? (This is an oft repeated question everywhere I go! Embarrassing!) What was my job? (I told him I was involved with a family business involving sales of agricultural products. I wasn't of course.) What did I study in college? (I said Management. I love being creative and imaginative. I should have said I invent gadgets that make people shut up.) Did I have a girlfriend?

He ended up giving me a color travel booklet written in Indonesian Bahasa, and even dedicated something: "Have a nice meet with me at Sarinah Shopping Center" then wrote down his complete address. It was sweet and flattering, but I couldn't help get a little uncomfortable.

"You are so brave you travel alone!" he said as I finally excused myself. I was told the same by a guy named Nur from my ferry boat ride from Bali. I scare myself all the time. In fact, his boundless curiosity was a reason to get scared. But scaring myself is a passion. I don't exactly plan for it, but it is inevitable when one travels alone. And it allows me to experience moments of such exquisite inscrutability.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

Jakarta - Nothing Much Has Changed in the Smoking Capital of Asia

Skyline. This photo only courtesy of rasters.

Jakarta -There's a smudge of irony that comes with my second visit in Jakarta. It had been 5 years since I first stepped on the soil of Indonesia, my very first foray into "indie" travels - these solitary travels that have become characteristic of "Eye in the Sky." But it has come into full circle when I found myself without a room in Jalan Jaksa. Thank heavens, it didn't rain this time, but at 2AM, I was on foot with bags and all looking for a decent place to lay my head on.

Having exhausted the visibly acceptable usual suspects, so to speak, I had to check out Hotel Cipta at the next road. I was there before too, but being a boutique hotel, it wasn't an attractive option that time. Times have changed and I felt I have stepped up a notch higher - by wee bit, at least, so I took the room at 415,000 rupiah. I was pleased. By half past 2, I took myself to their deserted restaurant for a midnight meal (Hainan Chicken at its finest) at the Blueberry Pancake House.

Jakarta hasn't really changed much. A metropolis of almost 9 million people, there isn't a lot of foreigners gallivanting around. The sidewalks still wafted of the heady stench of tobacco. But before someone forgets, the city ordinance has a steep fine for those caught smoking in public. Yet the city is one big caldera of cancer-emitting smoke puffed by 6 of every 10 Jakartans. Go figure!

At the airport, the Indonesian Immigration line far outnumbered the "Foreigners Line". This has advantages. The Indonesians are far from being jaded by the presence of visitors. In fact, they seem grateful. This has lead to a very pleasant stay in the capital so far.

Earlier today, after asking the policeman where Gambir Train Station is (I knew but I needed to triple check), he didn't just point me to the direction. He stopped the fast-moving vehicles and accompanied me to cross the darn street - like I was a 78 year old woman! I was just floored by such kindness of strangers; the very same sentiment I had during my first visit! See? Nothing much has changed, and this is even confirmed several times over by various encounters in the last several hours or so.

This has also underlined the obvious, that a lot of Indonesians aren't adept with the Queen's language. Several wide-grinned Jakartans gazed blankly at me when I was looking for the Bandung Train Station. I had to do several impressions of "trains" to no avail, it was starting to get annoyingly hilarious.

The fly-by-night transvestites and street walkers that used to line the nearby streets were gone - or I probably wasn't up that late. This visit will also underline the sad fact that the backpacker hangout called Jalan Jaksa ("Lawyer's Street" - long story) has been gradually neglected which is a curiousity since this area is where you find a great volume of foreigners, Caucasians to be exact. Even the new hotel building that was just being constructed 5 years ago now looked decrepit and run down! The street lamps are wanting, the streets getting narrower, there's practically nowhere to walk leisurely. Even the nice hotel I stayed in last time has closed. Everything is in disrepair; paints chipping off. It is sad how the metropolitan government has allowed the slow-but-sure degradation of what was once a vibrant area, now one of the city's "ugliest".

And you wonder why foreigners make the capital a transit point, no one wants to stay longer than a day or two, not to mention the fact that a mere 2 days will leave your pockets several ounces lighter - like the batting of an eyelash.

But there's one thing that has charmed my pants off - the sincere demeanor of its people. No one has ever helped me cross the street. No one! Not in Vietnam, or Thailand, or Burma or Cambodia. I am really grateful for these little acts of kindness, and I sleep tonight with a smile.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

Adventures in Indonesia

The rain was pounding the roof of Soeharto Hatta International Airport the day I arrived in Indonesia. It was 2 AM and my mind was racing like snippets of ideas charged by sudden bolts of electricity. Again, I was alone in a strange country. The past months, I had been so preoccupied that I was caught less prepared with this pre-scheduled trip. Thus, I was anxious. My immediate concern: Where do I sleep?

I hired a limousine taxi service that was worth P1,000 (or about 180,000 Indonesian Rupiah), and mentioned to the driver the first hotel that came to mind from the last 2 days of devouring infos from Lonely Planet and web readings. I was fidgeting during the whole 1 hour ride to the city center, as I didn’t know what awaits me.



A circus of fountains in the major rotund along the business center


Post-midnight Adventures

Lo and behold, the heavy downpour pierced like spears on the Jakartan pavement. Moreover, the hotel I picked was fully booked. So, imagine me, at 3 AM, with luggage on my back, drenched in the torrent, hopping – yes, on foot! - from one hotel to the next – and no room was to be found! Four hotels later, I found myself detouring to a street called Jaksa (which literally means “Lawyer” in Indonesian Bahasa – and there is an interesting sidebar to the name ).
The limo driver earlier advised against my staying in the street- the delegated Backpacker’s Street of the city. He said, “Dere is menny hippies. No good to you.” He was referring to the scruffy backpackers and budget travelers all over Europe and North America. Short of the straw – I found my one and only room in the “only” hotel in Jalan Jaksa (there should be 2 “hotels” now by the time this gets posted). (The stretch has inns, lodges, motels, apartments, dorms, strictly for budget travels. The amenities are basic, but the populace is nothing short of a U.N. convention.)

Nonetheless, I was fraught with content – I had an inexpensive airconditioned double-bed room at the mezzanine with glass windows directly facing Jalan Jaksa, and a clean HUGE bathroom. I struck gold! Thus this started my whole trip which plied through planes, trains, automobiles, and becak (Thailand has their tuktuk, Vietnam has their cyclo). (They also have their ancot –mini-FX/fiera – and ojek – motorcycle taxis.)




Gambir Station (the main train station where I took a Pakuan Express to the city of Bogor)

The walkway ramp to the city bus lines










Idiosyncrasies

I am always fascinated by the idiosyncratic digression that abounds in each country, like – during Mondays, the whole Thailand is bathed by a field of yellow. Everyone would don a yellow garment to profess their love and respect to the well-revered Thai royalty (the royal couple looks like Presidents Ramos and GMA together – no kidding!); that the Malaysians elect their Prime Minister every 5 years, and change their King every 3 years, which means that in a span of 20 years, they would have had close to 7 kings!!! (Not to mention a bevy of royal family members.) Or that the cable-car ride at the Genting Highlands is an almost 4 kilometer-travel over a dense gargantuan rain forest; that the most expensive city to travel in Asia (for non-tour packages) is probably Hong Kong. ( their YMCA’s -aka “The Salisbury”- single room, during off-peak season costs P5,000 a night.) Turns out that there are indeed several guesthouses in Hong Kong that I didn't know about that are rather affordable for strictly backpacking budget!



Venus-fly-trap replicas surrounding the Monas (which is a horribly designed structure, if you ask me.)





If Charlene Gonzales (Miss Universe runner-up) once stood confident and proud of our 7,100 islands, the Indonesians have so-far been nonchalant about their 17,100 islands (this includes famed Bali) – and this I refer “at high tide”. The whole country is so large that if it is 10AM in Java, it is 11AM in Borneo, renamed Kalimantan. It is the largest archipelago in the world. The downside to this is the poor delivery of government services to far-flung areas, like East Timor, which brings turmoil and, eventually, desire for self-governance. This also means that the south eastern tip of the country is just an hour away from Australia- from the northwest city of Darwin! G'd day, mate!




The pseudo-souvenir shop which turned out to be a movie set (read earlier post) at the Jakarta Old Town (aka Kota)

Airconditioned transjakartan city bus from city center to Jakartakota at Rp3,500

Pollo Campero, a fastfood restaurant in Plaza Sarinah. I ordered a 2-piece crispy chicken at Rp 26,000 (about Php 236). This includes nasi goreng (fried rice).

Culture Shock

Before flying off from Jakarta (which is officially a province – not a city – thus ruled by a governor), I made sure I had my fix of KFC chicken. Along Thamrin Road, I found one in the middle of a busy metropolis of tall buildings a la Makati. This road stretches into blocks and blocks of skyscrapers – an EDSA with the skyline of Ayala. At KFC, I was mildly surprised to have noticed that everyone was cupping their rice and licking their chicken with bare hands (nagkakamay) – and the place was packed! Years later, I have realized that most other cities in Asia enjoy their KFC chicken with bare hands - Thailand, India, Malaysia, etc. We Filipinos mostly use utensils.


Merdeka Square and the phallic Monas





What can I say! I was really hungry! So I ordered hotel room service at Hotel Karya Behana. Yummy! This cost me 75,000 Rupiah. Had a hard time ordering coz the waiters didn't speak english and neither did the menu. That's just Bihon guisado (of sorts), chicken wings, french fries and iced tea.


The old 12th century Portuguese port of Sunda Kelapa.

FYI -

Hotel Karya Bahana Jalan Jaksa No. 32 – 34 Phone: 021-3140484, 390 7119, 3150509 Fax: 021- 314 2781

Update: As of, April 2010, Hotel Karya Bahana has already closed shop, so call if you have plans of staying here.

This is the Eye in the Sky!