Friday, September 23, 2016

Have moto, will surf

It is definitely one of the great ironies of our lives at the moment. We pretty much live for weekends these days. The irony being of course that we left our slack-ass lives in Canada, where we both had no defined schedules and therefore could take any days off any time we pleased, to come to this exotic land of a gazillion things to see and do, only to both be locked into a Monday to Friday work schedule. Hmmm, how exactly did that happen? Oh well, all part of growing up. We’ll jump off the train when it stops being fun. J

So ya, weekends, and hey, LONG WEEKENDS! Last weekend was a long weekend. Something about one of the holiest days of the Muslim year, blah blah blah. We get Monday off, right? Ya baby, let’s go!

So this was it. The true test of our motorcycle madness. If you’ve been following along, you know that I scoped out an area called Pelabuhan Ratu (Queen’s Port) on the moto before Amy got here. Well, that was the dry run, cuz Amy is now here, and she wants to see the ocean. That means we’re loading up the hog, putting Amy on the back, and heading south for the weekend. While that doesn’t sound like a particularly big deal, here, it just is. The big deal is mostly related to insane traffic, death-defying roads, and the stress of not really knowing where to go (unusable signage combined with roads going off in every direction). It’s pretty much agreed upon by most, that if you are going to die in Indo, it’s going to be on a motorcycle. But we’re invincible, so we’re good J

Our target was a little place on the coast that you blink and miss it (which we did several times). It’s a small, low-key set-up of 4 small bamboo beach huts. Totally under the radar, it’s pretty much unknown to anyone, which is very cool. The only reason we know about it, is because I walked the beach on the last trip and literally stumbled upon it. A huge bonus of the place is that it’s owned and run by a German expat dude named Dieter (and his obligatory Indonesian wife – see below for more on that). For us, that makes the logistics of booking and communicating easy and straightforward – which is usually the most epic part of travel here. A quick email to Dieter, and we were booked. Nice.

So what’s with the “obligatory wife” thing? Only a brain-dead baboon doesn’t notice the disproportionate number of older foreign gentlemen married to somewhat younger Indonesian ladies (which is a pattern repeated in pretty much every developing country we have ever been to). No judgement here though, just stating the obvious. The reason I say “obligatory” is because it is illegal for foreigners to outright own property here. So what’s a guy to do if you’re a bule, have a bit of cash, and want to put down some roots in Indo? Of course….marry an Indonesian, and put the house in her name! OK, so that’s the background on that one. Nuff said.

So ya, 4 little bamboo huts on the beach run by a German guy and his Indonesian wife. A bed, a fan, hammock, outdoor shower, and ocean view. What else does one need? To seal the deal, Dieter has a fridge full of beer, reasonably priced home-cooked food, and comfortable lounge chairs. Why would we ever leave? (cuz reality sucks, that’s why). My biggest fear is that the word will spread, and those 4 little huts will be booked solid one day. So if you are reading this, don’t tell anyone!

The final selling feature for us, the “cherry on top” as it were, is the proximity of Deiter’s place to the local “surf shop” just a few palm trees down the beach. Now, “surf shop” is a huge exaggeration. We’re talking 4 guys, an elevated shack on the beach, a few women with babies selling noodle soup, and a fridge full of Bintang. Obviously, lulled in by the fridge full of Bintang (“I think I see beer in there….better go recon that” J), we also spotted the half dozen surf boards for rent, most of which were the standard gigantic blue foam boards you see here that instantly gives you away as a beginner (but, we are beginners, so, er, what’s the problem?). OK so let’s see: place to stay on the beach, check, fridge full of beer, check, surf board rentals, check….surf’s up baby! The really cool thing is that we have the entire place to ourselves. It’s totally off-grid.

All sounds too good to be true? Well it kind of is. The, somewhat important, missing element here is the lack of decent surf (kind of like a ski hill where the snow sucks). The whole area is just one big messy beach break full of reefs and rip tides. In fact, kids should be on leash. This is not good beginner territory (surfing or swimming – drowning would be on the list of “things that might happen”). Luckily we don’t really care about surf quality, and are happy just to be splashing around in the water and shredding the foam.

Speaking of shredding the foam, I think we both made progress on that. Standing up and bouncing around on the foam pile for a couple of seconds has become a regular occurrence. In fact, now we hardly ever scream out “I STOOD UP, I WAS UP, DID YOU SEE THAT?, THAT WAS AWSOME!!! (almost hardly ever). Both of us limping back to our hut afterwards though, we didn’t celebrate that hard. Me with a twisted neck from auguring into the sand head first (good way to get paralyzed), and Amy with scrapes and bruises on her leg from getting sucked into the reef. Lesson learned: surfing has its hazards. Got it.

OK, back to work on Tuesday (the reality sucks part). One last sunset over the ocean, one more sunrise. All good though. A fine start to our moto-surf career. We’ll be back. Next long weekend!


 

Local surf dude - Cimaja, Indonesia

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

JKT - The Big Haze

Marble Palace
Jakarta – population 10 million +/- a few mill, is the New York of Indonesia. It’s big, bright, and beautiful. Actually no. Only the “big” part of that is true. It’s huge. In a bad way. Unfortunately the more accurate string of adjectives would be big, polluted, and congested. As one of the world’s largest cities located on the world’s most populated island, it kind of begs for those labels. The greater metro area surrounding JKT, otherwise known as Jabodetabek (google it if you want to know why), which includes Bogor where we live, is a mega-metro area encompassing +/- 30 million souls in an area of about 6,000 km2. To put that in perspective, it’s the population of Canada jammed into P.E.I. There’s a lot of people here.

So ya, Jarkarta. City of opulent malls and hotels. Unfortunately there’s not a lot of love for the place among expats, and actually Indonesians themselves. It’s just one of those places that people end up in, well, because that’s where the family is, or that’s where the job is. Or should I say, where the money is. If you’re a rich Indonesian, chances are you live in Jakarta, live in a marble palace, and drive a Lamborghini. No wait, your kids drive the Lamborghini, you drive the Beamer.

How the other half lives
But, if you’re looking for an Italian espresso machine, or a bottle of wine, or a jar of natural peanut butter, Jakarta is where you go. It’s got every Bule need covered. It’s actually quite amazing just how metro Jakarta is. It’s definitely in a bubble by itself surrounded by the rest of Indonesia. According to google maps, we live all of 58 kms from downtown JKT. It might as well be Mars. It’s that different. You would be forgiven to be sitting on a Starbucks patio in downtown JKT, facetiming your peeps, and thinking you were in Toronto. Like I said, it’s New York! But without all the really cool things that make New York cool.

The other handy thing JKT has of course, is an international airport with direct flights to anywhere. So ya, to us, Jakarta is there for what it can give us: an airport, wine, olives, and natural peanut butter (oh, and parmesan cheese, and salami). Bogor, just 58 kms away, is literally a world away (no wine, no natural peanut butter, and, interestingly enough, no tampons….Amy can you fill you in on that one). Ok, back to JKT.

The overriding issue, that pretty much consumes one’s soul if you get caught in it, is the traffic. According to most internet polls out there, JKT (and Bogor probably) has the worst traffic on the planet. Here, traffic is everything. It determines when you leave, when you come back, and where you go. Only a lunatic attempts crossing JKT during rush hour. A few kms can literally take hours. So far we’ve been fairly lucky with timing things, but hey, we don’t live in JKT (thank god). A trip to the airport for us can take anywhere from an hour and a half, to 3 or 4 hours. But again, only a rookie would book a 7 pm flight. On the flip side, we have had no problems whatsoever driving around JKT between 1 and 4 am. What’s all the complaining about? J

A fascinating facet of big city culture in Indo, is the “mall phenomenon”.  If you’re like me, malls exist so people can enter, buy what they need, and then get the hell out of them. Here, they’re weekend destinations. Indonesians LOVE their malls. The bigger, the flashier, the better. They’re basically institutions here. One of my biggest pet peeves as an uptight “get the job done” bule looking to buy a hammer or some other inanimate object, is having to wade through the masses of families and couples sauntering around malls, hand in hand, like it’s an art museum. You see, places like JKT and other cities in Indo, were never designed for people (what’s this “design” thing you speak of?). They are pretty much unwalkable oceans of concrete and infrastructure that defy even the best of us with our high-tech walking shoes and quick-dry travel outfits. Looking for that nice waterfront area, with the walkway and cafes? Find another country. The mall, on the other hand, offers space to wander, things to look at, things for kids to do, maybe lunch….and best of all AIR CONDITIONING! Given the option of concrete, 100% humidity, haze (the sky is white in JKT), and death-defying traffic, it actually makes a lot of senses. Sad but true.

So given that lovely preface, we obviously love JKT! Kidding of course.  As mentioned, it’s where we go to get wine and peanut butter (and of course, tampons). On a recent mission, we accepted an offer from an expat colleague to stay at their house if we ever came to town. They have the “upscale” expat package, and have been living in JKT for 6 years. By upscale, I mean they live in a marble palace complete with swimming pool, and have “staff”.  By staff, I mean they have 2 maids (seems to be the Indo standard to have, not 1, but 2 maids), a driver, a handy guy, and a security guy. Our life in Bogor, with our mere 1 maid and part-time gardener, is basically camping compared to them. Ah the expat life…why did we ever get rid of colonialism? J Where else can a teacher live like a rock star?  

Given we were in the big smoke, or should I say, the big haze, we decided to do some site seeing. There’s the Kota Tua (old city; where the original Dutch colonial government buildings are), the Hotel/Bar Batavia (best old-school colonial-era bar outside of Havana), the Sky Bar (a bar/restaurant on the 54th floor of a big shiny building), and of course, a wide array of malls to meet your every desire. All in all, not a bad way to spend the afternoon, but after one afternoon, we’re kinda done with it. JKT, check. We’ll be back for the wine and peanut butter though J