Batavia – The Old Capital in Jakarta’s Kota

A piece of Batavia, the Dutch "city" outside The Netherlands, now called "Jakarta".

I have to be honest. Prior to this recent visit, I wasn’t too fond of Jakarta although I adore the locals for their exceeding hospitality, they’d give the Filipinos a run for their money. The city used to repel me: too many fake Bluebird taxis, smog all throughout the day, litter in every corner of the metropolis, smoke filled avenues both outdoors and indoors, transvestites and prostitutes when night falls, exorbitant accommodation rates in dingy holes in the wall. Then there’s heavy traffic – something that vigorously campaigns as Asia’s worst.

But if you go back to Indonesia’s colorful history, you’d find there’s a lot to sink your teeth into. There’s one word in my mind that flashes frantically like a beaming green light: Batavia!

Jam! Thamrin Road stagnates!

Batavia is the old name of Jakarta when they were under the Dutch rule for some 300 years, but it was really the Portuguese who “found” this as a trading port in the early parts of the 4^th century – decades before the Dutch set foot in Indonesia.

Once settled, the Dutch built fortresses and walls around Batavia, constructing affluent mansions and “pestilential” canals within the “compound.” History would have them move the capital to Bandung, then back again to Batavia. When the Japanese occupied the city for 3 years, they renamed it “Djakarta” which sort of stuck! The opposing forces meanwhile set up their own “capital” way down south – in Yogyakarta. But with its eventual independence, Jakarta reclaimed its capital status!

What was left of Batavia is pretty concentrated around what is now called “Kota” – a district of Jakarta that literally means “Old Square” (Old Town). In this crumbling piece of historical clutter rises Dutch-era colonial buildings that quickly reminisce the old glory of The Netherlands' iron-fist in the Pacific.

Though I have been to Kota a few years back, I was able to visit a different part of Kota, walking all the way to the Portuguese port of Sunda Kelapa!

Jakarta History Museum at Taman Fatahillah in Kota.

This time around, upon arriving back in Jakarta from Solo, I couldn’t resist the thought of seeing the more popular part of Kota described by Lonely Planet. Luckily, I was given a room at Margot as early as 8:30AM – with no extra charge (check-in time is 11AM). I relished on a long warm shower that felt more relaxing than my sleep from my Bima train. I forced myself to take a 1 hour nap, then by 11AM, I was already walking along Jalan Hasyim, intent on feeding myself before finding Kota.

I found a little diner called Soto Tangkan and started pointing to a photo up the wall. The Chinese lady was so pleased to have her first customer she practically gave the food for free: 5,000 Rp – which is a ridiculously cheap PhP25 worth (about $0.50) – nasi putih (steamed rice), soto (a kind of soup admixed with chicken and vegetables) and a fragrant tea that had the aftertaste of Jasmine! I took note and told myself I’d come back here tomorrow (but I wasn’t that lucky the next day – I was already charged the regular price of 15,000Rp). While waiting for my order, I was surprised to hear what was blaring loudly across the street – Freddie Aguilar wistfully singing “Anak” (Child) played alongside Billy Joel’s “Honesty” and other standards (from a store called Rumah Makan Padang).

After brunch, I aimlessly walked around until I reached Thamrin Road, their Ayala Avenue. I was debating with myself. Should I take the taxi to Kota? LP and people said it would take around 30,000Rp by taxi. However, I was able to go to Kota 4-5 years ago – on a public bus – way back when I was a sniveling ignoramus. Why can’t I do that again? There’s really an easy solution: ask the locals!

I found the Transjakarta station near the Bank of Indonesia. I walked through its snaky platform and inquired. "This is the Bank of Indonesia station, get a ticket from here and your last stop is Kota," I was instructed. So instead of venturing on an uncertain taxi ride that would cost me a minimum of 30,000Rp (PhP150 - $3.5), I paid for a very comfortable, traffic-free Transjakarta bus that only cost me 2,500Rp (PhP12 - $0.25)! Cool huh!

We passed through Glodok (the ill reputed Chinatown) until we reached Kota! This was Quiapo territory – or London’s Brixton. People scurry around like paranoid rats. It took me several times to finally get to the right direction, I was walking north and south, east and west. The area soon transformed into immaculate white colonial buildings. Further along, I crossed a horribly busy street (crossing was hell) until I reached a canal. This was the area I was looking for. I found a solitary vendor parked beside the canal. I bought a bottle of Coke and rested awhile. The vendor pointed me somewhere to get to Taman Fatahillah (Fatahillah Square). It was like popping into a magical place as the narrow streets turned into a beautiful square. Suddenly, I wasn't the only soul walking the slumbering sideways.

Si Jagur aka "Mr. Fertility", an old portuguese canon, believed to be a cure for "barrenness".

Fatahillah Square is surrounded by old colonial buildings that now house museums and touristy cafes like Café Batavia. Jakarta History Museum was hosting a Lithographic exhibition which occupied me for a good 2 hours. Si Jagur sits right across the history museum; a canon believed to have magical powers to cure infertility – and also thought to be the early version of the phallic Monas found at the Freedom Square. Women who wanted children had to sit on this canon in order to bear a child. But what caught my eye was the stately Fine Arts Museum boasting of grandiose white columns. What surprised me: Fine Arts Museum was empty! I was the only one there despite its free entrance! Meanwhile, Jakarta History Museum was teeming with visitors (entrance fee: 2,000Rp or PhP10 or $0.22).

I found a line of vendors selling coconut juice (buko) – 3,000Rp (PhP13), and another selling mangoes – 5,000Rp (PhP24). I just helped myself despite my fast dwindling rupiah.

Outside Taman Fatahillah, the buildings were in various stages of decay, which was really sad. It is possible that with passage of time, this part of town will eventually cease to exist.

Gereja Sion or Dutch Reformed Church is the oldest remaining church in Jakarta, and despite LP’s description that it is “nearby Taman Fatahillah”, it was quite a walk! You have to move away from the square and head towards the local train station (Kota Station), walk further ahead, then cross a fatally risky, albeit busy thoroughfare to get to Jalan Perengan Jayakarta. This church had a “colorful” past. It was built in 1695, and “black slaves” brought by the Dutch navigators were promised freedom if they profess their faith to this church. Unfortunately for me, it was closed when I got there.

Fine Arts Museum, also in Fatahillah Square, showcases contemporary works. Unfortunately, this museum is largely ignored despite the fact that entrance is free. I was the only visitor. I was asked to write my name on a guest logbook. Refurbishments were also on-going.

One of the contemporary pieces seen at the Fine Arts Museum.

While I made my way back to the Transjakarta Station, I knew I needed to just cool down and relax. It had drizzled and I was feeling the strains of the non-stop travel. That night, I had a date with Hermione, Ron and Harry at Cinema 21 at 20,000Rp (PhP97.50 or $2.20) and a satisfying KFC meal. I’ve been craving for their original recipe chicken for weeks now, but inhibited myself from doing so. The price: a weird 28,868Rp (or PhP153 - $3.50). Can’t they round it off?

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Decrepit buildings of times long gone.

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.

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Jakartan Impressions and Little Acts of Kindness

Unflattering Impression

My first impression of Jakarta was unflattering, but as the days treaded on, it became a love-hate relationship. I would walk around at 1AM looking for food ( I am a nocturnal animal) – street-walkers and transvestites waving to me, which is not much different from the post-midnight streets of London, Paris (right on the street where Moulin Rouge is), Copenhagen or Luxembourg. If it seems like I haven’t learned a lesson after my “robor con violencia” mugging in Madrid, I actually have, but I just cannot restrict myself. Life is too short to be constricted by fear and be limited by past demons.

Just outside Plaza Indonesia

The upscale Plaza EX, where I bought lots of (original) local & foreign DVDs.

It is fun to take little adventures with minimum risk. The Indonesians live in risk-heavy environs. Health-wise, they smoke like chimneys despite a supposed heavy penalty for public smoking. A visit to the garden city of Bogor had me alight from my express train, walking over 2 cold rail tracks, where commuter trains directly pass: no over- or underpasses. My adrenaline worked overtime. I doubt if arranged package tours will ever come close to such stirring, awesome experience. I am done with spoon fed travel. I relish to be street smart.

A mosque in the city.

National Museum (aka Elephant Museum or Museum Gadja) - a common mistake is ignoring this amazing place. I remembered paying a very cheap entrance fee of (i think) Rp500. Cameras aren't allowed inside, but who doesn't have a phonecam these days. Hehe. THEN I realized that the whole area has CCTV cameras all around. (While coming out from the premises, I was half expecting someone to accost me to some private office for taking photos inside. Yikes. Haha.) Took me longer than I planned to tour the whole place including the elegant 5-story annex (this building directly below).

Stately grounds of the National Museum (aka Elephant Museum/Museum Gadja)

I am slowly inching my way towards north asia. My friend Maung, (who’s now in New York) from Myanmar has told me little stories about his country (we gallivanted together in Glasgow, Scotland) and I have since been inching my way towards Burma, especially Rangoon Yangon). I guess not a lot has changed. Lady activist and nobel laureate Aung San Su Kyi is still on house arrest. Maung recently emailed me from NYC, saying that his family has informed him that the situation in Yangon has considerably stabilized, which is great news. I can’t wait to see those temples in Bagan, Mount Popa, Mandalay and Yangon this February through March.

My Toraja coffee (it's an extra strong coffee which originates from the Sulawesi State, town of Toraja, Indonesia) at the airport while waiting for my 4-hour delayed flight.


Kindness of Strangers

I have also reveled in the kindness of others. One time, I was looking for a real Blue Bird Taxi (the most trusted in Jakarta, as there are many imitations) to visit the Portuguese harbor of Sunda Kelapa. The 5th guy I asked wouldn’t allow me to take the taxi as it was very far – and expensive. He accompanied me to the bus stop, bought me a ticket, then left with a smile. Instead of paying a huge InR 60,000, I only paid something like 3,500.

At the Old Batavia (the old name of Jakarta during the Portuguese rule), I found a solitary postcard shop in a sleepy avenue of charming prewar buildings. I picked two, and asked how much they were. The guy just told me, “For you, it’s free!” Turns out that I was in the middle of a film shooting, and the whole postcard shop was a film set! On another train ride going south of Java, a nice Indonesian girl I was asking information with snatched my notebook and started writing common bahasan phrases and their English translation to help me get through easily where I was gonna visit.

This was what she wrote:

Saya ingin pergi ke = I want to go to…, Berapa = how much, tolong = please help, terimah kasih = thanks, beli = buy.






Of course I had to learn a few on my own before I landed on Jakartan soil. I was adept with saying “tidak” for “no” – and “argo” for “taxi meter” (to specify that the drivers flag down the meter). I was also pleased with myself, going around, trying to be polite and grateful to everyone, saying “Selamat” – when selamat actually meant “Congrats!” or “Good morning”. I must have looked like one big clown congratulating an ambulant vendor or a guard after asking for directions. Haha!!! I am floored by such generosity.

Little acts of kindness can make a difference. It gives this world a hopeful chance.

A Disney-inspired playground.

My taxi from Kota to Taman Mini Indonesia Indah ("Beautiful Mini-Indonesia") was Rp 84,000. Taman Mini entrance was 9,000, 2 tolls of 4,500 and 1,500 and an expensive canned coke of 7,000 (about Php35). Taman Mini showcases the 33 regions of the country. Taman Mini is a project of the First Lady, set to showcase the cultural and architectural differences of the Indonesian states.

Maritime Museum grounds in Old Batavia

Museum Wayang (Maritime Museum). I love this place, though there's hardly any visitor coming in. It felt like stepping back into time. The second floor is an eerie place, but every object is well preserved. You hear your footsteps walking around these premises. And there is an amazing collection of maritime stuff.

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