Into Jakarta

So now I am sitting, relieved beyond expression, at the departure gate for Malang in the Jakarta terminal. the past day or so has yet again been a crazy one...

The morning ran smoothly, and the four hour flight from Hong Kong went smoothly. I sat next to a girl who had just graduated from college in Canada and was now heading back to her home in Indonesia. I got her to help me practice a few Indonesian phrases.

Flying into Jakarta, I was quite surprised at the incredibly flat terrain. It was difficult to discern what was ocean and what was actually land. Rivers merged with lake. And lakes in turn overflowed into the square farming plots. As a city, Jakarta seemed from the air to be very spread out. But I think this was more due to my comparing it with Hong Kong. Hong Kong was filled with skyscrapers. Even where development wasn't too congested, the futuristic buildings rose into the skyline. Later in the afternoon, I would discover that Jakarta is, in fact, HIGHLY congested.

I had originally had to book my last flight from Jakarta to Malang separately. Now, with my arrival two days later, this posed a serious problem. In order for me to change my flight to the following morning, I had to go to the Batavia Airline office...in the heart of Jakarta.

I went to pick up my checked baggage, concerned that it would not be there. Fortunately, it was. Unfortunately, it was in a plastic bag, taped all the way around. The entire side had split. All my stuff was still there though.

I hauled my luggage through the airport to the hotel we had booked. But yet again, it was booked for two days before. I had to purchase a new room, for a hefty price too. But I was exhausted I felt it was worth it. I also needed a place to store my stuff while I ventured into Jakarta, and after walking around the airport for three hours I figured it was my only option.

This was my first taxi experience. I had been cautioned against taxis without handles on the inside - kidnap cars - and making sure the trip counter was cleared. Both checked out fine...and I jumped in. I showed the driver the address, and we headed out onto the streets.

As a foreigner subjected to the fast-paced, hectic driving of Indonesia, I was quite frankly terrified. The driver sits on the right side of the car, and I assume should drive on the left side of the road. This is all good in theory, but really, you can drive wherever you want. There are few to no stoplights, so definitely don't worry about slowing down, stopping, or letting other drivers have the right-of-way. Honk when you are inches from running someone over. Flash your brights if you want someone to move and you are coming up fast. You can drive straight for the floods of mopeds, they will easily be able to slide between two rumbling trucks at the last moment. The roads are a series of convoluted switch-backs. At one point I was riding through a market area. Carts with people pulling them were milling among the cars. I had women tapping on my window. There feeble hands were outstretched, begging for money. I had to turn my head away, shaking the universal "no." It made me very sad. One lady, with only a few teeth in her smile, pointed desperately to the baby she was holding. The child was drooped over, and all I could see was a messy head of hair. Extending on the sides of the road were narrow, curving alleys. Slivers of light from high above offered minimal lighting. Sometimes there were distinct stores, but everything was very open. Front walls are not too common. And dust was everywhere. I had imagined Indonesia as always being green. But here, a brown layer covered everything.

It was an hour and a half to get to the airline office. I was just hoping and praying as the clocked moved past 5pm that it would still be open when I finally arrived at 6pm. And it was :) I got my flight changed and I went back outside to find my driver had stayed like I asked. "Saya kembali" ... "lima menti" - I return. Five minutes. Haha I guess he understood my poor pronunciation and guestures!

I only took a certain amount of Indonesian currency (IDRs) with my in the taxi, and after an unexpectantly long ride and a few toll booths, I was anxiously watching the meter as we neared the airport. 107,300 it read. I had 100,000. I gave it to him, along with one US dollar, which he readily accepted as compensation. I was just happy to have made it back in one piece, not abducted, and with a ticket in my hand.