Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Batavia

It has been a while since I last uploaded any photos on FB. It has been a while since I last created an album. And it has been a while since I last flew. On Friday, I took the skies again after a two-month hiatus.

It has been a while since I last stepped on the soil of this metropolitan city, when we transited here on our way home en route from Down Under. We landed at Soekarno-Hatta airport after an almost two-hour flight. As the plane made its descent over Jakarta Bay, I could see fishermen boats and what looked like hundreds of wooden boxes in the sea. A strange sight indeed.

The flight took almost two hours and after clearing the immigration and reclaiming our bags, we took the pre-arranged transportation into the city. We travelled along miles after miles of road works (they were working on a project to enlarge the airport highway) but despite that the traffic flow was quite smooth. That was before we neared the city and hit the gridlock, meeting the tail end of the after-office traffic jam for which Jakarta is famed. And I thought how funny it is that most European cities are so different from their Asian counterparts. In Europe, the signs of a modern city are its efficient public transportation network, so efficient that you can live without owning a vehicle and you even have to pay a fine if you drive into the city during peak time. In Asia, the signs of a modern, growing city are its clogged roads (except for Singapore and Tokyo where it’s too expensive to drive or own a vehicle) and its growing public transportation system. And Jakarta is just as busy, just as populous, and has roads just as clogged as those in Beijing, Shanghai, Manila and Seoul.

I was excited though to see the sprawling metropolitan with its skyline of modern buildings, tall hotels and office buildings. The sight helped take my mind off the gridlock at least. We finally reached our hotel after about 90 minutes on the road. The hotel was in the Cikini neighbourhood, very near to posh Menteng area and faces Taman Ismail Marzuki, the centre of Indonesian art and culture in Jakarta.
And Jakarta is really huge. I remember looking at the Indonesian women pilgrims and seeing their prayer gears stitched with the words ‘Jakarta Utara’ (North Jakarta), ‘Jakarta Selatan’ (South Jakarta), ‘Jakarta Barat’ (West Jakarta) and ‘Jakarta Timur’ (East Jakarta), wondering how huge Jakarta must be to have its inhabitants declare themselves coming from different municipalities of the city (in contrast, the Malaysian women pilgrims only have ‘Malaysia’ on their prayer gear). Indeed, due to its size and population, Jakarta has been given the status of a province, similar to other provinces in Indonesia. Each of the five municipalities (the four above and ‘Jakarta Pusat’ or Central Jakarta) is headed by a Mayor (Walikota). And the Indonesians love joining names as much as we love to refer to a place by its acronym. So Bandara (Bandar Udara or airport), Monas (Monumen Nasional), ‘dubes’ (duta besar or ambassadors) are part of their everyday lingo just as KL, PJ, JB, KK are part of our lingo.

On Saturday, after breakfast and checking out the Cikini neighbourhood, we took a cab to Pasar Tanah Abang, about 20 minutes from the hotel. This covered market is made up of a few blocks and about 11 levels. We left after lunch. It had just stopped raining and the roads were wet and muddy. We took ‘bajaj’, an orangey three-wheeled motor-powered scooter, to Plaza Indonesia, an elite shopping centre located adjacent to Grand Hyatt before moving on to Grand Indonesia, a grand shopping centre indeed (it houses Harvey Nichols!). These are where the rich Indonesians, expatriates and tourists hang out. I love them! They are clean, modern and spacious. It was raining when we exited Grand Indonesia and cabbed it back to the hotel. Some low-lying roads were already submerged by flood water flooded (flash flood is yet another common characteristic of Asian cities!) so it was a good thing we were in a taxi instead of a bajaj or we’d be really wet!
On Sunday, we took a cab to Sarinah Store at Thamrin Road. Don’t let the appearance of the building discourage you. It actually houses a few levels of Sarinah departmental store besides some restaurants, a supermarket, a Guardian Pharmacy, a moneychanger and a tailor shop. Level 4 of the Sarinah Store was where all kinds of batik in every form conceivable are sold. Level 5 was where the handicrafts and souvenirs were. We spent some time here before taking the bajaj to Grand Indonesia. Lunch was had at the food court located at the level 3 of the Skybridge which linked the East and West Malls of Grand Indonesia.

After lunch, we walked to Jakarta City Centre next door. It’s a massive structure of a building and again, don’t let the appearance of the building deceive you. I was disappointed to find stalls inside, not unlike those at Pasar Tanah Abang. Why replicate Pasar Tanah Abang? Needless to say, we didn’t linger long.

Sunday evening was spent resting. We had dinner at the hotel restaurant. Unfortunately the hotel didn’t subscribe to ESPN, hence I could not watch the West Ham-Arsenal match. And had no idea of the outcome at Stamford Bridge.

We checked out on Monday after breakfast. This is where a strange thing happened. I’d received a text on Friday evening from the travel agent who helped booked our hotel and arranged for airport transfer that a certain Bapak Arwat would come to the hotel and pick us up at 8. A mini MPV pulled up at the lobby shortly after 8 and a chap came down. He didn’t really look for us but we approached him thinking he was our driver. He had a piece of paper in his hand on which was written my name. At the same time, another MPV pulled up behind the mini MPV.

We went into the first vehicle and I noticed the chap didn’t really help us with our luggage. Just as we were settling into our seats, the chap from the second vehicle came up and knocked on the window. He asked us some questions and then made a phone call. Turned out the first chap who came and looked all dazed was not our driver after all – no wonder he just mumbled something when I asked if he was Bapak Arwat. The second chap handed me his hand-phone and I spoke to the travel agent and she told me to ride with the second chap instead. That was the real Bapak Arwat and later he told us that there is such a scheme where visitors are picked up not by their travel agents but by another, sent to the airport and when they got to the airport, they were made to pay when they had already made the payment to their travel agent. I asked how the first chap could know my name and Bapak Arwat said that the swindlers would have someone at the airport preying on new tourists. They look and make a note of the names held up on placards. When you’re waiting for your car to arrive, they chat you up to find out where you’re staying and for how long. And then on the day when you check out, they move in. I know we didn’t speak to anyone when we arrived so it was a wonder how the first chap learnt where we were staying and when we checked out and expected our pick-up.

The drive to the airport was surprisingly smooth this time unlike the drive from the airport and we reached the airport in an hour. There were a lot of stores in the duty-free area but most sold the same things (Polo shirts, Lacoste accessories, batik wear, chocolates, perfumery and the usual souvenir stuff). I was excited to find some Gucci bags but later found out they were from Korea. Meaning they were imitation. Strange, I thought, why would an airport store sell imitation stuff?

The flight was not full but there was no newspaper except for a local Malaysian daily and the Jakarta post – because it was Deepavali. Except for some minor turbulence due to some clouds, the flight was uneventful.

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Thanks to the Internet at the hotel (I was surprised the hotel even provided an Internet point!), I found that Arsenal hammered West Ham at the latter’s home ground late on Sunday. We face the Spuds next, which had their first win under new gaffer Redknapp over the weekend.