Friday, October 5, 2012

observations worth noting

As I was going through my posts for this blog, I came across a variety of unpublished posts that I held off publishing for one reason or the other.  This one really stood out after I re-read it.  I wrote this about four to six weeks after arriving here.  Much of it is still applicable because some of it continues to be a wonder and discomfort to me.  I will comment at the end.

Life in Jakarta brings both wonderful and not so wonderful sights and experiences to this newcomer. Just like in any large city, there are so many levels of experience that it just boggles the mind. I would like to share a few of these observations and spectacles with you now. I will give you a little heads up at this point. This is a departure from my normally cheerful posts. It is another part of Jakarta that I have witnessed. So if you are looking for fun in the sun, it is partly cloudy in this particular post.

One thing mentioned early on, and frequently, has been the temperature. I am acclimating somewhat, but the stillness of the air in stores still kind of gets to me. It isn't every single store. But sometimes when you go in to buy something you just feel like you can't get a breath of fresh air. Indonesian's don't really like wind blowing on them and so many times, the stores don't seem to have any kind of air system blowing a molecule of air. I am sure that isn't really the case. Air is circulating somehow, but it feels so close and stuffy one would never know it. It seems especially true when I go to a Guardian or Century store. Guardian and Century would be the equivalent to Walgreens or CVS. Most of the time when you go to one of these stores it is because you may not be feeling at the top of your game. Stuffy air is kind of the last thing you want to experience. Typically, by the time I get what I need, my face glistens and I can't wait to find the door. The lights seem extra bright in these stores as well, so it adds to the closeness of it all. The pharmacist at one of these particular stores is very nice and very knowledgeable and she speaks enough English that we can usually understand each other. I try to go to that specific location if I can.

However, last week I was on the search for Pepto Bismol and here's where I had a little trouble. With the mention of Pepto Bismol, you know that tummy troubles are the topic. We won't go into detail. Anyway, I wound up at a different mall with a different pharmacist then the one mentioned above. I tried to explain my situation, pointing to my stomach saying I didn't feel well. They looked at me. I then said I was trying to find Pepto Bismol. Hmmm. Words appeared to be bouncing off their faces. Then I said medicine with bismuth in it. Major staring now ensued. I tried saying pink liquid and pointing to the spiffy little outfits that they all wear in the store (FYI-Indonesians seem to really love the color pink)so that might give them a clue. The pharmacist's face brightened and she said "Inpepsa" and goes to the back and produces a box with a bottle inside. She opens the box and pulls out a bottle of rather thin looking pink liquid. Well, this was as close as I was going to get apparently so I payed my 200,000 rupiahs (a little over $20.00) and decide to go back to the hotel and see exactly what I had purchased. I know you are thinking the price tag should have been a big clue. I will touch on the costs of goods here in another post, so FYI cost is not always overly telling. However, after doing a little Internet research on this pink liquid I discovered that I had just purchased medicine for peptic ulcers. Close, but not exactly what I was looking for. It seems that Pepto Bismol is not sold here. The closest thing I can get is Mylanta. Close, but still not doing it. When I return home for a visit, in the near future, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will have multiple bottles of pink liquid in my suitcase for the return trip to my new home.


The point of all of this is that you can go to a pharmacy or apotek here and buy many kinds of medicine over the counter that you would need a prescription for back home. It can be a handy system if you 1. Don't try to self diagnose too much or for anything unusual. 2. Don't take ANYTHING without looking it up first. 3. Be careful when you try to describe what medicine looked like back home - even if it is pink.

Relating to the heat, people here seem to have a totally different thermostat setting than I do. Many days the temperature hovers around the low 90's or upper 80's. In the US that would mean the wearing of light weight clothing, short sleeves, at the very least, and maybe even shorts. Here, it is not unusual to people all bundled up with heavy jackets. Frequently, you will see a baby wearing a knit hat, quilted jacket with a hood pulled up; wedged in between parents on a motorcycle. My son would have had a heat stroke if I had done that. For me wearing capri pants, sandals, a short sleeve or 3/4 length sleeve shirt still leaves me fanning myself. I guess I need more than 8 weeks to feel like I need long pants, long sleeved shirt and a jacket when the temperature dips below 89.

Speaking of children, I have seen very cute children in extremely dangerous situations. As mentioned above, many people will have their babies or small children riding with them on a motorcycle. Most of the time, the grown ups have helmets. This makes them a lot smarter than a number of Texans who love to ride and feel the wind in their hair. However, most of the children on the motorcycles do not have helmets. In fact, most of the time you will see families of four on a bike. Mom on the back, baby stuffed between she and the dad who is driving, and then a two or three year old standing in front of him holding on to the handle bars with such tiny fingers. Sometimes the child is so short that they are standing on tip toes in order to see over the motorcycle handle bars. No one is holding on to the child as the driver needs both hands to operate the bike. Other times you will see a dad driving with two or three small children in school uniforms clinging to one another as they are driven to and from school. Today, I saw a very cute little girl on a motorcycle with her dad and mom. She was standing in front of her dad. Her hair was pinned up on each side of her face with cute little bows. On her face was a pair of red, child-sized sunglasses. Once you got past the absolutely adorable, you started to think about her precarious position.

Actually, even more horrifying than that are the children who wander the sides of the very busy streets tapping on the side window of your car wanting whatever money you will give them. On my way back from the Pepto Bismol quest I saw a little girl who was maybe three or four walking all alone next to a very long line of motorcycles stopped at a stop light at a major intersection. She had a small rag in her hand and she would half-heartedly wipe the front fender of the motorcycle and look up at the driver to see if they were going to offer here a coin. If not, she would move on to the next one. She proceeded this way down the line of motorcycles until the light changed. They zoomed off and she stood there in the street, all alone, waiting for the next group of vehicles to stop. I still have that scene in my head.


On a lighter note, today I witnessed a forklift being driven down a major thoroughfare. The man drove it along in front of us for a while and then we eventually wound up beside it. I thought maybe the forks were not attached to the front. Wrong. Sure enough, once beside it, there were the long forks sticking out as it merrily rolled along. Seemed like all kinds of accidents waiting to happen. But the traffic and how it functions here are massively different. There is no way that the traffic anywhere I have ever driven in the US could function within the same "guidelines" that are used here. It is pretty remarkable and I am impressed by how it works every single day.

Seems like my list is heavy on traffic concerns. It is such a major part of life in Jakarta that my concentration on it would make a lot of sense to you if you were here. I love how some woman ride side saddle on the backs of motorcycles. Sometimes they have on very high heel shoes and have there little feet poking out just so. It is funny to see them holding their purses so lady-like on their laps and not holding on to anything else as the motorcycle on which they are a passenger, weaves in and out of traffic. Sometimes they are talking on their cell phones as they zoom along. The age range is broad. Some are young women in flip flops or sandals. Some are more mature ladies sitting up so proper with feet crossed at the ankles. You see head scarves on many of the riders and sometimes helmets. They have a kind of motorcycle taxi here called an ojek. Don't know how much it is to hire an ojek, but you see their stands all over. Usually, there is a small sign attached to a tree or pole and a big clump of motorcycles waiting to be hired so you know you are at the right place. Apparently, some of the drivers will let you wear a spare helmet, maybe for an extra fee perhaps. This would pose quite a dilemma for most US citizens. Go helmetless or put on a helmet that countless heads have worn. Head lice is a very real possibility. Since I would not get on an ojek, I am blessed not to be faced with that particular choice.

Some of what I wrote, and a lot of what I didn't write, is difficult to imagine or at least was before I got here. However, Indonesians are an interesting, kind, and sociable group of people. To be in such a large city (the sixth most crowded metropolis after Tokyo, Seoul, Mexico City, New York and Mumbai)people always greet you, smile at you, feel sorry for you if you are eating lunch by yourself, will crowd your hospital room with visitors so you won't feel lonely, adore children and love to spoil them, and may not always get it right but will certainly try as hard as possible to please you. They love it when you make small talk and make eye contact. I am finding I bow a lot these days and greet people more openly. I am glad I have learned to do this.

Yes, there are a lot of things that I talked about that sound as if I am talking about two different cities. The graciousness and warmth vs the harshness and cruelness of reality for many. That is what makes it complicated and fascinating all at the same time.

Here are my follow up comments about two and a half years after I wrote this. 

Tummy troubles are a part of life here.  I was having lunch with a friend the other day and at a table behind her was a guy opening a box of Norit.  Poor guy.  Norit is activated charcoal.  It can be used to help absorb nasty things you might ingest.  They are small black pellets in a yellow tube.  I carry them in my purse along with Imodium and Pepto Bismol tablets.  The down side to Norit is that because of their small size you have to literally take a handful with a lot of water to get relief.  You also have to be mindful of the fact that if you take them too close to any medications that you take it will absorb that as well.  But it works great and they can really save you.  But I do bring back Imodium and Pepto every time I return to the states.  It is a necessity and they still do not sell it here.

Traffic continues to be something that everyone talks about.  Jakarta is a growing city and public transportation is a problem.  With the growing middle class, many are turning to scooters and motorcycles as a great, inexpensive way to get around.  Unfortunately, you cannot imagine what it is like to turn on to a major street and there are motorcycles and scooters almost solid across both sides of the road coming at you.  Over the last few months I have noticed a few changes in the driving habits.  They do not think anything about being on the wrong side of the road and they will challenge you head-on without any hesitation.  There are many mornings we are forced to get as far to the left as possible or even stop so we don't collide.  Unfortunately, if you stop more and more of them pour in to your lane and you cannot proceed.  We just flat out have too many vehicles and not enough road.

I have gotten fairly used to seeing small children on motorcycles.  It still concerns me to see them begging on the sides of the roads and wandering in and out of traffic.  I also am concerned about the exhaust they are inhaling and riding with no helmets or even sun glasses to protect their eyes from dust and road debris.  But I understand that this is many times the only option they have to get to work or school or the doctor.




Yes, I still feel that it is a city of massive contrasts.  I am learning more and more of them as I live here. I still love the greetings and their politeness even if sometimes I know it is all a facade.  There is still much to learn and much to attempt to understand.  It is an impossible task to do so in such a short span of time.

Now serving ticket number 42

One of the things that seems to be a popular activity here is to demonstrate.  Every day of the week there is some kind of demonstration going on in the city.  Partly because we live in the capital of the country I guess it is a hot-bed of public protest activity.

It seems to be the sentiment of the world these days to protest and demonstrate.  It gets lots of press and helps to get people's messages out.   Apparently all over the world it is growing in popularity again.  However, maybe here it is so popular because this is a fairly new democracy and they are still working to get their ducks in a row.  Whatever the reason, I find it rather interesting and yes sometimes very unnerving.

Each day, my honey pie gets a security notice.  On this notice is a list of the times, locations, what group is protesting, and how many guests they are expecting.  What really caught my eye was that they had times assigned to each group.

Since I seem to be really good at connecting point A to point K this was the scenario running through my head about how this time schedule comes to be:

Office of Protest Permit Applications (OPPA) - "Selamat sore Ibu/Pak.  How can I help you?"
Protest Organizer (PO) -  "Well I would like to hold a demonstration next Wednesday.  What times do you have available?"
OPPA- "Let's see.  Wednesdays are popular days so maybe you would like to do a Monday or a Tuesday?"
PO -  "No.  We need next Wednesday as that is when we have the bus arranged to bring all of our guests in from out of town to march around, throw rocks and beat-up on cars parked close by."
OPPA -  "Oh, you are so organized!  Let's see what we have."  Between 8 and 9 the Glorious Group against Koruption are marching at the House of Representatives.  Between 9 and 10  The Righteous Because we are Righteous group is marching at the Presidential Palace.  10 to 11 the We are Tired of Working for Peanuts group of monkey street performers are marching at various heavily traveled intersections.  So if you want to go between 11 and 12 we have a slot."
PO -"Hmmm.  That won't work because we will be handing out the box lunches we are providing our marchers at that time.  What do you have in the early afternoon?"
OPPA - "Looks like we could squeeze you in between 2 and 3.  Does that work for you?"
PO - "Excellent.  We will take it!"
OPPA -  "Very good.  Here is the form you need to fill out.  Please let us know the name of your group, what your general beef is that you would like to be known for, how many guests you are expecting to march around with you, and of course the area you are requesting.  Also there is a form on the table over there for a great place to have your protest tee shirts printed if you need help with that."
PO - "Looks pretty simple.  How long is the turn-around on the tee shirts?"
OPPA - "With the time frame you are requesting, it is going to be close.  We usually request 10 days as they sent out to a neighboring country who will work cheaper and do even cheaper knock-offs than we do.  But a friend of mine who does great Gucci knock-offs can do them for you in about three days, but you will pay more for them."
PO - "Guess we will have to go local and just pay our guests less in assistance fees for their time to come join in the protest."
OPPA - "Fill out the form and return it to me.  Thank you for visiting our office and have a nice protest."

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

These are a few of my favorite things


Honey pie and I are slowly creeping up on the three year mark of living in a foreign land. In four months we will have spent the majority of our lives in a place that can be fascinating, frustrating, frantic, full of color, friendly, and yes at times frightening.

With that in mind, I will mention some of the things that I still find amusing, endearing, and bring a smile to my lips after all this time.

This afternoon as I went by taxi to meet a friend for lunch, I saw a big ole smokin' Kopaja bus sitting on a hill at a stop light. Now the smokin' part is not what amuses me. It is the fact that the guy who is the collector of fares for people getting on the bus has another important job.  His other job is apparently to act as the chock man when the bus has to stop at a light on an incline. When the bus comes to a stop on the hill, he steps off with a piece of wood, a brick, or a good size chunk of stone and stuffs it behind the rear wheel. This saves the driver from having to sit with his foot on the break, most likely helps them last longer.  It also helps assure the other vehicles behind him that he won't roll back on top of them. When the light changes, he steps out once again and as the bus rolls forward, he retrieves the chock and they motor on. I smile each time I see this. I don't really know why, but I do.

My jagas, the guards at our house for those of you who haven't been keeping up with my blog based language lessons, always make me smile. I love when I come out first thing in the morning and I say pagi and call them by name. They always say "Pagi bu." It is such a sweet thing to me. And as I pull away I always wave and they wave back. It seems silly, but I really do love that little exchange. I think of them like my "adopted sons" or at least my "adopted kid brothers." They help me park my scoopy when I return from a little drive. I have yet to figure out how to get the bigger kick-stand down on the back of the bike so I just leave it to them to do. When I leave to go on a ride, they always open the gate, check for traffic and send me off with a hati-hati (careful). I know they mean it and I find it touching.

The amusement the locals find in sweetie and I at some of the things we do. It isn't a malicious kind of amusement. It is usually a fascination that we are trying to somehow fit in someway. I enjoy that, most of the time, that they notice or even appreciate what we are trying to do. I am not sure they think of it in the same terms as I do, but it still makes me smile.

The kaki limas, the food carts on the side of the streets, are endlessly fascinating to me. From the way they push the carts along through the neighborhood and knock on a piece of bamboo, tap on a glass, or call out like the peanut guy at a baseball game.  It is all done to make their presence known. I love it.  Sometimes late at night if I can't sleep I hear them moving through the neighborhood.  It is comforting knowing that I am not alone at that late hour.  Someone else is up and engaged in some activity.  I would probably never eat from one of the carts as I have seen how they wash their dishes. But I still love them. I am amazed that they can whip up a bowl of soup with all the trimmings, fry little cakes, cook yummy smelling food in a wok, have drinks that they dip out of large plastic containers which have tapioca balls floating around in them, fry up battered bananas for a delicious smelling snack or are carefully arranging cut up fresh fruit so artfully in their little portable restaurants they make you want to run over to the cart and buy what ever it is they are selling.

And then there is the lowly but adorable bajaj.   Cutest thing on three wheels for sure.

It is part of my life and part of my memory.  It is something that I will never forget.