JAKARTAAAAAH.... and Depok

JAKARTA (11-18 JULY 2009)
P.S: All human photos. So, no photos posted here.

It has been two and a half years since the last time I went back Jakarta to visit my family, Chinese New Year 2007.

I dropped by for a night only in March 2009, for a transit between Singapore-Balikpapan-Berau. Chinese New Year 2008 we celebrated it here, my little brother already moving here, and the other young brother came for visit. CNY 2009 I didn’t go home, decided to shift the schedule in July to meet my big brother who is coming home with his family during mid year, so that we can reunite together.

As usual, I went Jakarta alone since hubby’s family is here already. I went back at the same time with Dad technically, however, he took different flight at different terminal since his ticket was bought at last minute.

The day before my flight, Friday, 10th July, two of my colleagues had half day, one for Army re-service, the other had to attend seminar somewhere in town. Anyway, I had to rush to finish a work I targeted so that I could go home with peace in mind. Around 2.30pm I guessed, there was a blackout in the office. I was just finished my work, and in the process of printing it when it happened. Blackout was very common in my office back then in Batam, but here, it’s major, especially when it wasn’t restored in few minutes. There was problem with Singapore Power Unit, not problem with office, it would take probably 3 hours to repair. My boss, a good boss, suggested that I go home, since 3 hourswas what was left for that working day. I felt uneasy leaving yet, so instead I tried to write something for my blog (that I forgot to post and not relevant anymore!).

So to say, I missed my two colleagues a lot. In this kind of situation, it would be fun to have companions because we could do a lot of things together, playing, eating, walking around or whatever that we always do. Now sitting in the office, dark, with no ventilation and thinning laptop battery, I finally decided to go home and came back Saturday to finish what I had left.

Morning in the office, afternoon I was in Budget Terminal killing two hours waiting time finding something decent to eat and my usual travel companion, magazine. It’s always diving magazine or National Geographic, although those light gossip magazines are very tempting, they are not worth of money because within minutes I can finish reading it. Nat Geo is the best because some articles are quite heavy and only long flight and unlikely boring holiday can give me the time for that.

An auntie was leaning next to me during check-in and asked me whether I had some 1-2 kg spare for my luggage. I said no, she insisted that I weighted it to see. I told her I weighted it already, which is true although I actually had, yah, around 1-2 kg spare. Lesson I learned, and persistently reminded by my dad, who travels very frequently is that, never carry somebody else’s luggage, whoever it is. The logic is clear, can’t be more relevant than current times, and I do really adopt that principle. However, I understand how desperate it is sometimes to squeeze the kilos in, I tried to help by advising her to move some into her hand carry luggage. She was travelling with someone who looked like her son and grand daughter who kept knocking the trolley to my feet (very annoying and not painless by the way!) I told her the airline would let her get away with one kilo overweight, but not two. So she could just move the other kilo to the hand carry and she would be fine. And her reason? She was too lazy to reopen her bags. What the--. Anyway, by that time I decided to better distance myself since she was leaning in more intimidating and persistent way, I wouldn’t be surprised if she followed me right to the time I put my bag to see that I really had extra kilos if I entertained her more.

It wasn’t really my day also, the man in front of me looked so nervous doing all his check in with his stack of papers and cards, he ended up sitting next to me at the last row and pushed my bag on the cabin overhead violently to make space for his bag. It was empty everywhere else or even on the other side of bag, but he just loved the spot where my bag was! I was a second away from asking him about what the hell he thinks he was doing to my bag.

There were some turbulence in the air, but as long as I don’t travel with people I care about, it doesn’t affect me. I have noticed my strange habit since long time ago, but I can’t fight it. If I travel with families or friends, unless I’m heavily sedated with travel sickness pills, I would always wake up between my sleep with thumping heart and worries about the safety of the journey, which is so uncomfortable that I would avoid sleeping. If I travel alone, I heck care about what happened as long as it doesn’t get really serious.

Reaching Jakarta airport, I waited for Dad who would arrive half an hour later. There was nothing to do except waiting, there wasn’t even places to sit. His plane arrived on time, he got some difficulties with the stuffs he brought but we were getting on the cab home. My second uncle was at home too, it was good to see him. He had been getting quite ill sometimes ago but now he recovers and became his usual active self. My mom, brothers, sister in-laws, nephews, niece, and sis-in-law’s mom who is already like part of core family was at home.

It was so great to be home and be with them again.

Except a few visit to nearby mall, market, hospital and one day out to Depok and Jakarta town, I spent my days at home. There were many things happening on my visit, which made our plan to have a getaway in Lembang postponed for another year. When I just reached Jakarta, there was a big fire in a restaurant in Kedoya. It was my friend’s family business. Even though the family was okay, they lost seven employees in the fire. It was traumatic and horrible incident.

Then my nephew was scheduled to go through tonsil operation, he had to go through some check ups to determine whether he was ready for the operation. Me and my first younger brother had gone through same operation in the past and we know what it means. Louzy watery food, the only other thing we could eat after the operation was ice cream, and believe me, it doesn’t taste as good when you are supposed to eat it.

Termite invasion at home. Upstair, the termite had destroyed good part of my big brother’s wardrobe. They spent days clearing and cleaning with the help of exterminator, so I got to help playing nanny which I don’t mind. It was quite a back-breaking task I must say, and good exercise for the ears. First few days I had culture shock with my ears, the decibel rate was unusually high. Being kids are so fun, they can fight when they feel angry, and be friend a moment later without grudge. How simple and nice it would be..unlike in adult world where we must surpress and control everything.

So the situation at home had been quite chaotic, combined with my short visit and very limited weekend, I didn't have enough time to do all I want or meet friends.
I met my longest best friend in Depok and my uni friends. They are all still the same, but everyone has grown up in certain way. We didn't spend enough time to find out more about each other so we just scratched the nostalgic surface.

On the day before I left Jakarta, there were bombs in the Marriot and Ritz Carlton hotels. When we saw the news early in the morning, it was reported as ‘explosion’ without any details and honestly I didn’t give it a thought that it could be something as disastrous as bombs. Damn murderers! Since my handphone was not active and the Jakarta number I got couldn’t receive msg from Singapore, I didn’t inform my friends here at first. Then again, I thought they might be worried and I dropped msg in the afternoon. The day after when turning on my handphone in airport, I did received msgs from them, I felt really guilty not informing them quick enough.

Although it seemed like there were a lot of unpleasant things happened in Jakarta, I liked going home and little time for myself to sort up my messy mind, not solving it, not solving it, because I can’t solve it. Blah. Life. Being human. Blah.

Anyway, Jakarta in many ways pretty much different or the same with the old Jakarta or Singapore ---> what kind of nonsense is this sentence…

My longest best friend.
She has different live, walking through different path from me. But she is still the same person she is, I actually wonder how come she is stuck in her situation now, while she has almost all it takes to get out. She is still the strong willed and strong minded person I knew. It’s maybe something I will not be able to understand. I chase happiness where it is while I can, if I have to break some invisible rules I might do it. She looks alright from the outside, but heartbreaking and lost her determination to be happy. However, I still think she is stronger in her own way, patient, really2 strong, something I could never be, she is like the calming power opposed to my erupted self, like she did, still, and always is. She would be a happier person later in life.

Jakarta street
We had this project during uni time, that the area where I stayed, Serpong,will become a independent town, it would have business and economy central that spins the wheel. It seemed like almost an impossible thing in the past, say, ten over years ago. But now, Serpong is much more different, it tends for itself and the independent town has emerged and steadily refines itself. We don’t need to go to ‘big town’ to search for entertainment, food, business, medical, so on and so forth. Economy and jobs are starting if not rooting well in the area, providing another option that the stuffy central Jakarta. Residential is growing really strong. Serpong is connected via various expressway to big town. Although the public transportation system still depends on mini vans and busses, we can actually live without central Jakarta.

Anyway, Jakarta street is better now. There is new mode of transportation called Busway. Okay, it existed since my last visit, but it spreads more. Well, sorry, I stop talking. My info is unreliable, I'm ashamed if this post is to be read by Jakartanians.

There are less beggars in the street. Quite a number of people agree with me. So I'm quite safe in this. When beggars etc approach car, they are less persistent also, in fact, no fight. Unlike last time. It's good news.


Airport
Not good news for the airport though.

Airport is still pathetic. It has good traditional ambience and themeing but it stops there. For people who are not familiar, Jakarta airport is so un-user friendly. When you missed the screen showing the baggage claim’s belt after immigration process, you have to make a guess. They have TV there, many, but most are showing Indonesia movie that international travelers will not understand. The more important is.. where is the baggage belt again? How is the status of the this and that flight? And baggage belt can be shifted, anyhow, during the wait, and they like to pick the one in front of the exit where people queuing the baggages adds to the chaos and line of people waiting to go out and going through the checks, while there are rows and rows of other belts left unoccupied.

Previous experience, domestic to international airport? Ask, it would be easier because the signs are hardly adequate.

International airport waiting room? Check-ins are advised to be done two hours prior to departure. Then, immigration and you are stuck inside. Duty free shopping, I stretch my ability to shop and still can’t really spend more than half an hour. Best thing? Waiting room only open slightly more than half an hour prior to departure? So passengers are scattered at the floor outside the waiting room. Chairs? You wish. It’s so simple yet never been improved.

Jakarta Food
Still good if not better. Those who stay or stayed overseas long enough, most probably can relate very well. We miss the food!!! The dirty, unhealthy, sinful street and kampong food! We are so-called human with iron stomach because Indonesian mostly can survive every where. Who can resist the melting greasy cheesy martabak late at night, roadside (muscle?) meatball, the very different fishcake, and more…droooooooooooollllll………….

The People
I almost forgot Indonesian’s hospitality. When we learn history subject in school back then, the book said Indonesia is a nation with friendly people. I was like, what a BS… now that I live abroad, I do understand what it means, and it was true.

Shopping in Jakarta, at the right place though, I felt like I was treated like a diva. It was crazy, the sales people were everywhere and they were all as attentive and friendly as they can be. No sour faces if the transaction failed, no accusation and icy cold stare when you don’t seem to like what you touch or see. No shopping as if you owe a salesperson money or you have just killed one of their family. Well, if it not obvious, I don’t like to stereotype, it’s just shopping here is not as fun sometimes.

However, the inefficiency and the drags are very prominent when shopping in Indo. Processing time yadda, yadda, and I actually counted the amount of shoppers and salesperson are around 1 to 3… whoa…!

But I love the hospitality, really. The smiles, the greeting, the friendliness. Some people forget about how beautiful are small things and gestures. It's good that Jakarta, in the coldness of being gigantic city, stil has the touch. It's priceless, imo.



So.. it’s good to be back.. mixed feeling. Tried in other post, but damn difficult to express.
I should make this annual if possible..


For Jakarta, story ends here.
Next, it’s just my footprint and midnight blabbering about my uni time. You know..those younger days..


University of Indonesia, Depok

Located outskirt of Jakarta, in a plot of beautiful land.

It used to have (now I'm not sure) forestry area with big trees, grass patches, 3 lake/reservoir, and many facilities for sports and quiet spots.

Tracing on the footprint to my uni, I went through the expressway of Bintaro from my area. It was quite convenient now, the expressway was only opened when I almost graduate, and by that time, it was not ‘officially open yet. Public transports could go through, human could go through by walking, and..goats could go through. Further before that, the road was all rocky with irregular shape, irregular earth and dirt. If you are active and not a diva, forget about owning a white shoe, unless you like beige or brown because that is what it would turn into.

I went pass Pasar Minggu, Lenteng Agung, Tanjung Barat, Pancasila, and I swear my rotten unability to recognize roads was not that bad. Everywhere looked almost the same. The junction where we used to stuck in traffic, the skimpy road passing by the railway, that roadside leather shop where I bought leather for model, the road side railway where I saw two chidren digging hole to bury their dead cat that was put next to them. I remember the railroad where I stuck my slipper into and far far away there was an incoming train, the spot where I board a bus and had to give someone an elbow to the stomach because he tried to grab my bag. It was still the same, except Margonda road outside my uni.

It was so well developed now that it has high density of vehicle and there was actually traffic jam on the weekday I was there. The traffic jam was much worse that what I got in Pasar Minggu terminal. Malls, shops are crowding around at the side of the street. I was feeling grateful that all of those were not too existent in the past. How do we get through the temptation with the limited student pocket? Anyway, I prefer the simpler Depok back then, when what they had was what we needed. Photocopier, book bundlers, paper shop, mounteneering equipment shop, affordable cinema, swimming pool and late night munchies.

Margonda was so different that I almost didn’t realize when I got out and suddenly I was in the turnover outside the university gate. It was even too late for me to hesitate whether I wanted to take a stroll as the car had already pulled out. There shouldn’t be a problem though, it’s just that maybe I don’t want to visit in the rush or just make a one round without feeling familiar because everything must be different now.

This place means so much to me. Place were I spent a very significant years of my life, growing into an adult, precious years.

During my very first month there, where everything was still strange and unfamiliar, I rode ‘ojek’, the motor taxi during one quiet day and suddenly I felt homesick sooo badly. I don’t know why it happened on that particular moment, perhaps the back of the mas ojek looked weird.

I liked to walk through the ‘forest’, where there are big trees surround me with their beautiful falling leaves and yellow flower tips, strolled through the green grass and the lakes. I have secret places and activities when I felt sad, just laying on the grass next to the bamboo tree, or climb and sit on the big cozy tree, sit for hours next to the big lakes where I can see various dragonflies and tadpoles. Wish I have the same secret places now, I hope they don’t change too much.

I liked to jog in the morning, weeks prior to any expedition to mountain or cliffs, or just a fun jogging around where me and my friend could stroll along the reservoir. I also liked to cycle early in the morning, although one day I provoked three big dogs (I was only staring at them!) and they started to chase me. It was very early in the morning when the sky has not turned bright yet, and no one was around to ‘outcycle’ to distract the dogs. Tell you, I had enough accidents riding bike by myself, let alone three crazy big dogs tailing behind. So I changed my cycling it to late afternoon. My favorite spot was the road next to the UI train station where I can let the bicycle slide by itself for hundreds of meter because of sloping down road, other than that, of course I liked to cycle through quiet roads, although it never felt the same again, thanks to the three crazy dogs.

It was also the place where I kept ‘wilder’ and more fun memories. Kayaking through the lake, competing for triatlohn or just friendly sport running and climbing competition in the faculty, or fun baseball game after study days, or running through the uni carrying heavy rubber boats for trip preparation. Gathering at the campus late at night, sleepover, whether it’s for expedition or not-intelligent club meeting that took all night and made me ended up being locked in the toilet, at 4 am in the morning. The people who were not sleeping that time was in the building five hundred meters away debating stuff that I don’t get of why it took the hours of my life I would never get back. I was not willing to spend the rest of the morning standing in the horrible condition toilet, imagining the giggle of the person who would rescue me. Luckily, my mom had hardware shop. Selling hardware, I had a little bit of knowledge and knew how hinges work. I took out the hinges of the door, dissembled the whole door and put it next to the toilet. I couldn’t remember going back to the meeting though.

Litterally staying in the campus that engraved to my mind stretched over almost last two semesters of my final year. We wore pajama, brought cooking appliances, sleeping equipment, music, food, coffee, energy drinks, snacks and toiletries. Some friends brought drum set and even their pet dog. It was agony; suffering but somehow it was enjoyable. Friends who didn’t take the same subject would come and help us and we repaid the favors when it was their time.

I remember the nights when I went around looking for working-not vandalized public phone with a stack of coins to call my family or my boyfriend back then. I got the best creeps, with one most memorable moment. My uni is very mystical with bunch of scary stories, mostly first hand experiences and it was super creepy when the story revolves around the places that I know.

I was making a call in my faculty. It was not in my building though, the place was semi-dark. Nothing unusual, I was talking in the phone then suddenly I felt all crept out with nothing. Hair standing though, and I suddenly remembered that someone had just been murdered just at the back of the faculty about a week or two. It felt intensely uncomfortable that I almost left that place running.

Ah well, there were many ore creepy stories in my own hostel, sometimes I had difficulty sleeping. The stories were narrated in location just next to my room, in the living hall, upstair, from friends or family who I trust, why should I sleep well every night? Luckily, it affected me in short term, until I heard the next story. Anyway, I was braver back then ha… Had to. To add to the creep, the people who I hung around with during my first year had the habit of listening of true horror stories in the radio (it was 90-ies, student’s life revolve around radio ok!) around midnight time and then freaked out about it. I swear, the scarier parts was the freaked out person who were hysterical and very small guts with hobby of listening to horror. Come on!

I got two experiences, whether it’s true or not, I believe it could be explained physically somewhere. The girl who stayed next to me, had the experience of being strangled during her sleep. My impression of her, she believes in a lot of myths and things so I didn’t take it seriously. The other girl next to me was more dramatic, she saw a big dark shadowed, something she called ginnie in her room, filling the whole ceiling ad it’s not cute. Of course the story made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but I didn’t really believe in everything she said because she said a lot of ‘too hard to believe things’. Anyway, one night I was asleep in my bed when I felt something pressed on me, so hard that I couldn’t fight it and had difficulty breathing. I woke up, but couldn’t open my eyes or moved too much to so-called fight for my life. I had read before that this incident can be explained, it’s caused by tensed muscles or extensive fatigue. The uncomfortable thing is that I was fully wakened up. I remember similar thing that happened to my neighbor, I know that I should do something to free myself, without the ability to do so.
The next one was weirder. I was making model on the floor, I worked through the night and had been having lack of sleep for few days. I probably dozed up unknowingly, bottom line, I saw me leaving myself and floating around one meter above the body and said, hey, that’s me! I was probably dreaming because I’m here typing.

You probably thought my hostel was creepy, but I think it was the least from other places around.

I don’t miss the creepy parts, I miss everything else in the uni. The nature club where I should spent more time with, to explore the mountains, cliffs, rivers, caves and islands where I could. The activities and sports I could have done. Something I could have been good with. Something that would probably change the course and direction of my life 180 degree, well, 270 degree maybe.

I miss exploring, I miss trying out new things I should have tried. Things that I might not have chance to try anymore. Ah well. I don’t dwell on what-ifs. I’m just curious sometimes.
So, next time when I have the chance to go back. I promise if it changes too much, I’d be a visitor. If it’s still the same, I would like to go around, maybe hunting for cheap second hand book? Maybe laying on the grass next to the bamboo, climb tree, sitting at the edge of the lake watching tadpoles, or walking through the ‘forest’ with falling leaves and flower tips? Maybe.

So, if one day you are there and see a granny doing those…


Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.
~Pierce Harris, Atlanta Journal


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