The Trials of an American Dilettante

Friday, July 29, 2011

Indonesia

So, Indonesia is not as I expected. I expected something chaotic, something undeveloped, something seedy, something strictly Muslim, something off the beaten track. Alas, Indonesia is surprisingly open, organized, liberal and touristy. Almost disappointing, really. Maybe I need to go back to Yemen. Still, it's frickin' beautiful and friendly so it's hard to complain too much.

I arrived in Jakarta to find the airport bus system shockingly easy to use. Everyone pointed me in the right direction and met me with smiles and thank yous. I hit downtown in the middle of the night and walked the streets for about 30 minutes to my hostel. As it turns out, Jakarta is one of the safest cities on earth. It's a city of millions where robberies and assaults are almost non-existent. Oh, I got hassled. Guys on motorbikes were every ten feet wanting to give me a ride. And there were some beggars and whores, but all-in-all, it was a pleasant enough walk. I mean any city with sidewalks, some greenery and a moderate amount of cleanliness is a way above the Middle East in my mind. And the safety puts it way past any city in Latin America. I guess my standards on what makes a good city are low. Could I live in Jakarta? Yeah, I think I could.

The next day, I hit up some mosques and churches and decided to go to the museum with some British girls I met. By the time we got to the museum at the oh-so-late hour of 2 pm, it was closed. Nonetheless, I found the walk interesting. I think the British girls found it to be a little exhausting and I felt guilty for making them walk so far to see basically some crappy Dutch buildings. Traffic is bad in Jakarta and you have to play chicken with cars to cross the road. I'm just pleased the cars actually stop for people. Another score for Indonesia over, say, Egypt.

After a delicious fish lemon grass something-or-another soup dinner, I caught a night train for Yogyacarta. Yogyacarta had some massively impressive Hindu temples. They would have been nicer if I didn't have Indonesians asking to take pictures with me every five minutes, though. This happened a lot when I lived in China too. Although the typical resident of Jakarta or Yogyakarta has seen a forigner, Indonesian tourists have not. Picture after picture I took with giggling families, schoolgirls and schoolboys. Eh, comes witht the territory I guess.

I made it to Bali, which, oh my god, is a sight. The city of Kuta is an Australian shit show. With a capital S on both Shit and Show. Drunk by 10:30 a.m., they are everywhere, partying, fighting, yelling. Donned with crass t-shirts, neck tatoos, and rosy cheaks, they dominate the place. The Indonesias, in turn are their suppliers offering everyone walking by "trasport, massage, blow, weed, mushrooms, young girl." These Aussies, too, were not the backpacker world traveler types. They screamed at my accent - "oh my god, you're American! It's like I'm in a movie! Say something, say something!" It's so strange to be exotic - to both Indonesians and Australians.

Once you block out the Aussies, Bali is beautiful. They are swimming in their culture with temples, offerings and statues every two feet. You could take pictures of beautiful little things every moment. Young woman preparing offering here, old man lighting insense there. Young man preparing Hindu hanging here, old woman dressing statue there. They must dedicate half their day to rituals.

I escaped Kuta for Ubud, which was a nice change of scenery to see bright green rice terraces and volcanic mountains a pleanty. Stunning place. I get why its so tourist here, but still don't get why any Aussie would go to Kuta and only Kuta, a place that makes Atlantic City look way classy.

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