The Most Photographed Man in Jakarta

This is Charlie Katz, reporting from Jakarta...If you get the movie reference, you are probably a stalker-esque Mel Gibson fan, since even he probably doesn't remember the movie (it was filmed in the early 80s).

I feel like I owe Jakarta a bit of an apology for the criticism last night--it was late, I had spent the entire day travelling, and I had been wandering all around Jalan Jaksa (the Jakarta hostel hub) looking for a place to stay, and having to deal with some not so friendly hostel owners. I still think that the area is a dump, and is highly overrated--it definitely has a seedy vibe to it, because of the narrow streets and lack of light--there are definitely better areas to stay in Jakarta.

After finally figuring out where the "Transjakarta" stop was--the bus line that acts akin to a subway in Jakarta (it has a dedicated lane, only stops at formal stations that are manned and you have to go through a turnstile), I made my way to Kota--where the Lonely Planet description "Jakarta's crumbling historical center" is sad but true. With the exception of several buildings and areas, most of the old dutch architecture and buildings were in really poor condition. It's a shame that nothing has been done to fix up the entire area, but when you realize the amount of poverty that exists in Jakarta (driving in from the airport, I literally saw stilted shacks on cesspool-esque canals/waterways backing up to American style gated communities/developments) its understandable that fixing up old buildings that were built by people who were your former colonial oppressor isn't high on the priority list.

I visited the oldest church existing in Jakarta, Gereja Sion, which was in better shape than some of the literally crumbling buildings, but still could use a major touch up, and was guilted by a church volunteer standing over me into donating 5 us dollars to the church. I'm fine with donating the money since I would like to see the church get restored, but I hated the way the woman literally stood over me, and when I reached for a rupiah note, said "what, no American dollars?"

Anyway, when the Dutch built their settlement of Batavia, they decided to recreate the famous canals of Amsterdam. Of course, providing lots of areas of open, standing water isn't the best idea in a tropical locale, especially when that place still suffers from occasional dengue fever outbreaks. Before the Dutch finally decided to fill in all but one of the canals, Batavia was known as a white man's graveyard--with an estimated 1 in 4 death rate for europeans (that's only if you survived the long and perilous journey to the East Indies to begin with, which was hardly a guarantee).

The one canal left over, Kali Besar, actually provides for an interesting scene, and if it wasn't for the heat and humidity (as well as the stench), it wouldn't be out of place in Amsterdam.

The best preserved area of Kota is the square surrounding the old city hall built by the dutch circa 1700. It's also the best place to go on a weekend if you happen to have white skin and are wondering what its like to be a celebrity.

On the weekends, it seems, Indonesian schools urge their high school and college aged students to find a native English speaker to practice their English. This means that rather than being seen as a walking meal ticket, like you are to the taxi and pedicab drivers, you are seen as a walking homework assignment.

While I was wandering the old city hall building, which is now a museum, I ended up being the leader of a group of students from a muslim university near Jakarta visiting on a day trip, with instructions to practice their English. They asked me if I could practice with them, and I said it was fine as long as they were willing to walk with me throughout the building--and they were. It figures that the day that I am photographed the most, I forget to shave and look kind of scruffy--to say nothing about my sweat stained shirt.

Most of the students were understandably a little stiff--they were practicing a language they didn't necessarily feel comfortable with, and talking to a stranger--but the easiest way to get them to loosen up is by some selective self-deprecating humor (my favorite line is "your english is much better than my bahasa").

Of course, when others see that you are posing for pictures with one group, they want a photograph with you as well--which means my mug is now on the memory cards on students throughout Indonesia. It did get tiring after a little bit, especially becasue I was trying to see other things, but it was an enjoyable experience--Indonesian students are generally very nice and friendly and my experience in my interactions with them have helped buffer some of my gripes about the country.

So, in the tropical sun, I did what probably many Dutch did back in the day--I followed the Kali Besar for one KM to the Sunda Kelapa, or old harbor area. Sunda Kelapa is similar to Kota in that there are again some crumbling buildings, and the museums there are worth going to only to see the building that they are located in. The maritime museum is housed in several preserved Dutch East India Company warehouses dating from the 1700s, and they also have preserved the harbor tower that used to be used by watchmen.

So, I made my way back to Kota, and decided to go into Cafe Batavia, housed in another neat old old building, for at least a drink--the menu wasn't all that great. It's definitely the nicest eatery I've been in on the trip, and the prices reflected that.

I took the stifling and crowded transjakarta back to the stop nearest my hostel, and got the chance to witness a dispute between a worker there and a customer, who had pushed his way onto the bus after the worker told him that he was not allowed on. They actually stopped the vehicle for the matter to be sorted out.

I started to grow a little faint in the bus, and was relieved when it reached my stop, and I hopped into a starbucks to recuperate.

After feeling better, I walked to Indepedence Square--Jakarta's answer to D.C.'s national mall, and housing a giant column with a flame on top known as Monas. In the fading afternoon light and occasional breeze, it was actually kind of nice. Since it was a sunday afternoon, the place was filled with people all of ages enjoying the outdoors, with kite flying being the most popular activity. I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around that area, and making my way to the train station to look into buying onward tickets to Yogyakarta--my next stop.

For whatever reason, some random guy started talking to me--he was a decent english speaker, and mentioned that he was friends with a university lecturer--but there was something off about the guy. Probably because one of the first things he asked me was if there are a lot of gays in America, because according to the websites he goes to, there are. I was kind of curious as to what websites he was checking out, but decided against asking the question. Fortunately, I lost the guy in the train station.

I had two options to get to Yogya--either fly, or take a ten hour train ride. Though I do miss out on the train riding experience, I decided to take the cheap one hour hop, because I wanted to both maximize my time, and ensure that I could get a room in a good hostel, and get my general act in order since there is a lot to do there.

So, I'm on a Mandala plane leaving Jakarta tmw. at 1115 and getting into Yogya at 1215.