Sea World and Ancol

On Saturday morning, I went to Ancol (an-chol), a neighborhood in northwest Jakarta, on the Java Sea. You have to pay to get into the neighborhood. I’m not sure how much, because I handed my cab driver some money and he paid for it and gave it back to me. It was a few thousand, I guess.

My first stop was Sea World. It’s a big aquarium. From what I could tell, there was only one show, which I think involved feeding the piranhas. There were a lot of people gathered around the piranha tank and a guy on a loudspeaker talking about something.

The rest of the tanks had different kinds of fish and sharks and eels, all colorful. The descriptions were in both Bahasa Indonesian and English, which was helpful. Most of the fish were local, found in the seas around the islands here. My favorite was the dugong. It’s in the same family as the extinct sea cow and the manatee, with a funny, aardvark kind of mouth, used for grazing grasses off the bottom of the ocean. It was huge, slow-moving, and sweet-looking. Its front fins are jointed. They can be used for swimming and also for shuffling along the bottom—walk, walk, drag.

There was a long tunnel where people stand on a slow-moving conveyor belt going along under a tank of fish and sea turtles and rays swimming around and over the tunnel. It was so cool when the rays would brush the top of the tunnel and I could see it’s white underside with its mouth and gills.

The last thing I did before I left was to touch a shark and a ray. It freaked me out a little bit, but they were swimming around in a small tank specifically for the purpose of being touched, so I figured I couldn’t be hurt by it. The shark was little and velvety, which surprised me, and the ray was slimy. I couldn’t bring myself to touch an eel or this spiky, wormy, looking thing. But I’m glad I touched the shark.

After Sea World, I walked through the park around it and over to the gondola ride, which took me across the theme-park part of Ancol. There is Sea World, another sea life place with dolphin and whale and sea lion shows, a water park, an amusement park, and a Universal Studios kind of place.

The other side of the gondola track exited into another park, where I walked along the water and was solicited for boat rides and tours. I thought the sailing trip sounded great. It was a half-hour for 10,000 rupiah and it included lunch. I was by myself but thought I might come back sometime with friends. Then, I sat down in an outdoor café and had a Sprite and watched as the boat attempted to sail out from it’s dock. They raised the sail and went straight into the wind, getting bumped about by the waves and not moving an inch. I still want to go sailing, but maybe I’ll look around for some more experience sailors first.

In the neighborhood of Ancol on the other side of theme park central there are some historic sites, like a maritime museum and a fish market. I decided to save that for another day because the sun was hotter than I’ve ever felt before and my housemates texted me and asked me to join them for lunch back in my neighborhood. Besides, I should probably get to the fish market early because by mid-day I imagine it’s quite smelly!

I'm Not in Kansas Anymore

If I were in Kansas, babies would be strapped into car seats instead of sandwiched between their (helmet-wearing) parents on a motorbike. Yikes. It was, by far, the most shocking thing I've seen. The kid was no more than 10 months old. The fact that he was fast asleep and looked uber-comfortable hasn't done much to alleviate my concern. I guess the good thing is that traffic moves relatively slowly here because there is so much of it.

I'm up to six classes. I almost had seven, but one got cancelled. That means I am teaching 20 hours per week. I have a good mix of ages and levels, so it will keep me on my toes. Today, one class was trying to guess my age. First guess: 23. Obviously, this is my favorite class.

The picture above is Jakarta as seen looking north from the top of Monas. There is pollution here, like in any big city. But so far it doesn't seem too bad. You can't really notice it from the ground unless you happen to step behind an angkot just as it's shooting exhaust out the tailpipe.

This weekend, I might go to a district called Ancol (an-CHOL) which is in the northwest part of the city. It's where I will someday catch a ferry to the Thousand Islands. It's more like 300 islands, actually, but it's supposed to be a relaxing place to spend a weekend. There's also Sea World. While Sea World here is more like a big aquarium and less like Sea World in San Diego, it only costs about 50,000 rupiah to get in. That's $5. Other choices include spending 10,000 rupiah to gain entrance to the sports club where we can lounge by the pool for the morning and afternoon. Apparently, it's empty until about 4 pm because Indonesians don't like to go out in the sun. I might also get a pedicure. And I will probably end up at the mall at some point.

So, while I am indignant about the babies on motorbikes, it's unlikely I'll turn into an activist here. There are just too many other interesting things to do.

Spoiled Beyond Belief

When I left for work today, there were dishes piled in the sink. The floors were a mess. The whole downstairs smelled of stale beer and cigarettes from the weekend. I had several shirts hanging on the drying line from when I did my own laundry on Saturday.

When I got home from work, the kitchen was clean, the floors were clean, the house smelled just fine, and my shirts were nicely ironed and folded and waiting for me in a basket.

I effing love it here.

Monas

Saturday, I decided to go to central Jakarta to see the Istana Merdeka (Presidential Palace). I picked it from a list of sights. I told the taxi driver where to take me and settled in for the 20 minute ride (which cost me less than $5). It had just rained, so the sky was slate blue and the clouds were still hanging heavily over the city. What I noticed most on the ride was just how green everything is. There are trees everywhere. Palm trees, of course. And some that look vaguely like deciduous trees I am used to, although I don't think these ever lose their leaves. There are these trees that I like that are shaped like Christmas trees but the leaves are dark green and waxy looking. I haven't worked out yet whether they grow like that or are trimmed but they seem to be all over the place.

When we got to the Presidential Palace, the taxi driver wanted to let me out across the street but there wasn't a pedestrian crossing and I wanted to go inside and I tried to use my dictionary to communicate that he should drive to the entrance. He wasn't budging and there was no way I was walking across. Luckily, he had pulled over right in front of the entrance to Monas (Monumen Nasional). So, I did that instead. After I got home, I realized that the Presidential Palace is only open to the public on Friday afternoons and that was what my taxi driver was trying to tell me. Oops.

Monas was a perfectly good alternative. It's is a large, phallic statue smack in the middle of a huge park which is smack in the middle of Jakarta. It was built in the 1960's, during Sukarno's presidency, and it commemorates Indonesian independence from the Dutch. The park was practically deserted. Sunday is the big day of rest and relaxation in Jakarta, so that is the day to avoid tourist destinations. I wandered through the park toward the monument, practicing my meandering and noticing basketball and soccer courts (yes, courts--on painted cement, just like basketball and tennis courts), fountains, and small historical statues. A few people were lounging around.

To get into the monument, I had to walk through an underground tunnel that was liberally air-conditioned, which was a welcome relief from the sun and after-rain steaminess of the outside. At the end of the tunnel was a place to buy tickets. Because I can't read even basic Indonesian yet (lessons start Friday), I handed the guy a 50,000 rupiah note. That equates to about $5 and nothing outside of the mall ever costs more than that so it is my default when I don't know what something is going to cost. He handed me my change and two tickets--one green and one yellow. I followed the people in front of me up the stairs, figuring they knew what they were doing.

The stairs come up on street level in a big open terrace surrounding the monument. There is a wall around the terrace that depicts three dimensional scenes of what I think are either from Indonesian history or mythology. At the entrance to the terrace, a woman tore my green ticket. Again, I followed the crowd and a roped off path straight into the basement where there is another large open room lined with dioramas of Indonesian history, concentrating mostly on rebellion, revolution, and Independence. After walking around the museum room for a while, I went back outside and up the stairs to the platform where there was another ticket booth for the elevator to the top. Again, I gave the guy some money and got a pink ticket this time. Then, I stood in line for a really long time. Lucky for me, the student groups arrived just after I did, or I would have been in line for a couple of hours. As it was, I think it was about a half hour.

At the top, there is an open-air observation tower from which I could see the whole of Jakarta. It stretches endlessly in all directions except north, where the water of the Java Sea stops the city from expanding further. It was windy and cool at the top, so I spent a lot of time peering out of all sides and taking lots of pictures (which I put on Facebook, for anybody who is interested in seeing them).

After a while, I took the elevator back down and meandered some more through the park before getting a taxi home. My taxi driver, who could speak a little bit of English, was from West Jakarta and I live in east Jakarta, so he didn't know where my neighborhood was. I was very proud of myself that I was able to direct him (using Indonesian words-yay!) to my gate. All in all, a nice afternoon. I am once again struck by the overall calmness of Jakarta. There are so many people and so much traffic that it seems almost inevitable that it would be more manic. But the heat keeps everybody a little bit lethargic so things sort of roll along without incident.

I Am Weak

I couldn't help it. I woke up on Friday morning and even after I had my tasty cup of Indonesian coffee, I was craving a caramel macchiato. Once I got to the mall (which is basically a place I now go every day either on my way to or on my way from work), I tried to resist, but the pull was too strong. I walked right by and went to the office supply store to pick up the things on my list, but then I had to walk back. And I was way early for work. So I buckled. It was expensive. A grande caramel macchiato costs 43,500 rupiahs. That works out to about $4.68. When I bought enough local coffee to last me three or four weeks for 65,000 rupiahs ($6.99), Starbucks is a ridiculous luxury. But it tasted so good.

Impressions

My first week is over and I can’t believe it’s only been that long. I’ve settled in pretty easily and, since culture shock doesn’t really start to kick in until weeks six or seven, I’m still starry eyed. My housemates are great so far. In addition to being patiently willing to answer my questions about everything from where to get soap to where to vacation, they are also all bright, engaging, and fun. My bosses are also great so far. There is a system at my school that has been in place for years. It makes teaching, or at least planning, very easy. The pacing is set out for me. The goals of each lesson—in terms of vocabulary, grammar, speaking, listening, and writing—are set out for me. There is loads of supplementary information available that is designed to go with each course. And, I am welcome to use my own supplementary material whenever I would like. My students are adorable. I have, so far, one group of mostly 9 year olds and one group of 10 to 12 year olds.

There are definitely a few things that have stood out for me this week.

Indonesians like to be helpful: From the security guards concerned that I was caught in the rain to the twelve saleswomen who try to help me every time I enter a store at the mall, they want to know what I need and they want to help me get it. I can see it getting old or feeling overbearing, but it is definitely a cultural trait, so I’m going to try to keep smiling and roll with it. Besides, when I actually do need help, it’s fantastic. For example, in an angkot when I thought I’d missed my stop, I said the name of my neighborhood like a question and all three of the women I was riding with jumped into action. One talked to the driver and told him to pull over and the other two used hand motions to show me how to walk back to my neighborhood.

There is very little that I am used to that I won’t be able to find a little piece of in Jakarta: There might be a specific item that I start to miss or crave but for the most part, when I feel homesick, I’ll be able to find some comfort. There are American brands of food and chains of restaurants. There is bread and there is cheese (yay!). There is liquor and there is wine, although both are quite expensive and I’ll have to get used to beer again if I plan to drink regularly. There are even more personal hygiene items than I would find in a Walgreens. There are air-conditioned taxis with comfortable seats—for when I am too hot or tired or laden down with shopping bags to ride in an angkot. Kelapa Gading is hot and sticky on the outside, but cool and lush on the inside.

Mosquitoes are not my friends: They are stealth little bastards that bite me all day and all night long. Mostly they attack my feet because I wear long pants and, at night, long sleeves. Yes, I know it’s hot, but staying covered is a defense against the buggers. I saw my first cockroach yesterday. It was in our utility room, which is the only thing I can think of to call what I think would be the maid’s room if our maid lived in (She comes twice a week to do laundry). We have giant black ants that scurry here there occasionally and various other bugs that apparently come up through the drains in the bathroom. I haven’t yet had the pleasure. We also have a gecko that roams around, hopefully eating all of the above. I saw him once and he’s very cute. I have a surprisingly laissez-faire attitude toward the crawly inhabitants of the house. Except for the mosquitoes. I wish the mosquitoes horrible, torturous deaths.

Traffic is insane: Added to the confusion of driving on the left side of the road is the sheer volume of traffic. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, and bicycles (with seriously risk-taking riders) all drive alarmingly close to one another, creating five lanes out of three and weaving back and forth constantly. I honestly don’t know how it works out, but somehow it does. I can say with absolute certainty that I will never drive in Jakarta. Crossing the street is more than enough danger for me.

Things move slowly: With the exception of traffic, which seems to be in a hurry no matter in what country I find myself, things move at a leisurely pace here. Even when I think I’m strolling, I’m still passing by other pedestrians and I have yet to be passed. Probably it’s the heat. The slower you can move here, the less sweaty you will be. When I’m on my way somewhere, I can’t really help but be deliberate. It’s ingrained. But when I have nowhere in particular to be, I am trying my best to learn to meander.

By Indonesian standards, I am making a ridiculous amount of money: By American standards, my monthly salary is a pittance. By Indonesian standards, however, many of the people around me are making the equivalent of a dollar or two a day while I’m making almost 25 times that. It’s shameful. It’s very strange for me to have a maid. I haven’t decided whether I’ll have her wash my clothes yet. But it’s nice that she’ll take them off the drying line, iron them, and fold them neatly into a basket. We also have a rotation of sort-of housekeepers who work for the school. They come by the house Monday through Thursday to take out the trash, do the dishes, and clean the floors. It feels a little uncomfortable to me at the moment, but they are all paid by the school. It’s probably not a great wage, but maybe it’s more than they could make doing something else.

It rains a lot: October through April is the rainy season in Indonesia and so far it has rained every day. But it doesn’t rain all day. It seems to rain more in the morning or evening, leaving the middle part of the day available for moving about. This is convenient for me since I go to work in the middle part of the day. I’d much rather get to school relatively dry (except for the sweat) and then come home in the rain.

Last night, starting at about five, we had the heaviest rainstorm I’ve seen. By seven the streets were flooded and it rained all night. Unfortunately, this flood has coincided with my running out of groceries. So, this morning, I’ll have to pull on my Wellies and go wading to the store. Wish me luck!

Where Am I?

At Teri's request, above are some pictures of the interior of my house.

And, for those of you who are map junkies like me, here's a Google map with markers for my house, my school, and the mall I keep talking about.