Hello blog.
I arrived in Jakarta last night, my first return to Indonesia in over three years, at about 1 AM. I'd wondered what the first thing I might notice when I got here would be: it was the air freshener, that cloying chemical botanical that I whiffed as soon as I walked onto the jetway. Easy trip, mostly, Bozeman, Seattle, Seoul, Jakarta - delay in Seattle meant that I had to get bumped onto a later, Korean Air flight into Jakarta, but that was minor.
I have forgotten my Indonesian to an embarrassing degree. Last night, after my shuttle wasn't there to take me to the hotel I'd booked, I couldn't even summon the word for expensive (mahal) which meant that I couldn't bargain very well with the taxi driver, and consequently paid him quite handsomely for a very short ride that I knew should never cost that much. Basically it cost the same to get from the airport to my hotel 10 minutes away as it will cost for an hour long taxi ride from Solo today, when I head to Salatiga. I spent very little time concerned about the cost of the taxi, I might add, because I couldn't believe how little I remembered in Indonesian. The taxi driver was very nice, though, and he chatted with me - his English matched my Indonesian, almost - pleasantly for the duration.
The room is comfortable, near the airport, with a great Indo buffet for breakfast - I had bubur ayam, nasi goring, mie goring, and fruit. Lovely and delicious. I went out for a walk this morning, to find an ATM mostly, into the Jakarta heat and traffic, and lasted out there about 15 minutes. It's boiling here, and humid, and dirty, and busy - Jakarta, after all - and wonderful too, even. Motorcycles on the pedestrian overpass, makeshift outhouses over fetid ponds, food stalls every where, a makan padang resto (Indonesian fast food, basically, from Sumatra) around the corner. Everything is moving and honking politely and in action - now, I hear the call to prayer from my hotel room for the first time since arriving. If it weren't all so familiar, even still, all the sensations would certainly be overwhelming.
All the news here is about the new president, inaugurated on Monday. He wears batik shirts when he meets with other presidents, looking sleek and comfortable when he met with John Kerry after the inauguration on Monday. He does interviews in his bare feet, and his favorite band is Megadeath. How can you not love this place?
Still, I have a dearth of things to say so far - still lagging from the jet. But I am back here, again, and it's strange and wonderful. No doubt the arrival in Salatiga, where I am staying with my old friends Colin and Retno, will spur me on with more to say - something more interesting to say - but until then, here I am, in Indonesia.
I arrived in Jakarta last night, my first return to Indonesia in over three years, at about 1 AM. I'd wondered what the first thing I might notice when I got here would be: it was the air freshener, that cloying chemical botanical that I whiffed as soon as I walked onto the jetway. Easy trip, mostly, Bozeman, Seattle, Seoul, Jakarta - delay in Seattle meant that I had to get bumped onto a later, Korean Air flight into Jakarta, but that was minor.
I have forgotten my Indonesian to an embarrassing degree. Last night, after my shuttle wasn't there to take me to the hotel I'd booked, I couldn't even summon the word for expensive (mahal) which meant that I couldn't bargain very well with the taxi driver, and consequently paid him quite handsomely for a very short ride that I knew should never cost that much. Basically it cost the same to get from the airport to my hotel 10 minutes away as it will cost for an hour long taxi ride from Solo today, when I head to Salatiga. I spent very little time concerned about the cost of the taxi, I might add, because I couldn't believe how little I remembered in Indonesian. The taxi driver was very nice, though, and he chatted with me - his English matched my Indonesian, almost - pleasantly for the duration.
The room is comfortable, near the airport, with a great Indo buffet for breakfast - I had bubur ayam, nasi goring, mie goring, and fruit. Lovely and delicious. I went out for a walk this morning, to find an ATM mostly, into the Jakarta heat and traffic, and lasted out there about 15 minutes. It's boiling here, and humid, and dirty, and busy - Jakarta, after all - and wonderful too, even. Motorcycles on the pedestrian overpass, makeshift outhouses over fetid ponds, food stalls every where, a makan padang resto (Indonesian fast food, basically, from Sumatra) around the corner. Everything is moving and honking politely and in action - now, I hear the call to prayer from my hotel room for the first time since arriving. If it weren't all so familiar, even still, all the sensations would certainly be overwhelming.
All the news here is about the new president, inaugurated on Monday. He wears batik shirts when he meets with other presidents, looking sleek and comfortable when he met with John Kerry after the inauguration on Monday. He does interviews in his bare feet, and his favorite band is Megadeath. How can you not love this place?
Still, I have a dearth of things to say so far - still lagging from the jet. But I am back here, again, and it's strange and wonderful. No doubt the arrival in Salatiga, where I am staying with my old friends Colin and Retno, will spur me on with more to say - something more interesting to say - but until then, here I am, in Indonesia.
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