Jostled in Jakarta

At a market in Jakarta.

      

       We arrived in Indoensia unsure of the direction that this adventure was taking. Fortunately, this part went much more smoothly. As soon as we arrived in Jakarta, I texted our new friend, Fiqy, who we had found through couch surfing. He told us to take the bus to Pasar Minggu, and that he would pick us up from there. Waiting outside the airport for the bus, we realized that Jakarta was the more Muslim part of Java, and that we were slightly underdressed. One of the policemen let us know when our bus was there, and we hopped on, viewing all the sights outside with interest. Getting off the bus, Becca and I were immediately surrounded by people asking if we wanted a taxi, tuk-tuk, or motorbike ride. Politely declining, we burrowed into a storefront to wait for Fiqy. After taking pictures with numerous people asking for them, we finally saw Fiqy wave from across the street. Feeling like Frogger crossing the street, we finally made it across and safely into his car. The traffic here seems scarier and more turbulent than Egypt, mainly because of all the motorbikes and the lack of lanes and propensity of everyone to pass each other at every interval possible. Amazed that there weren’t more accidents here or that we didn’t get into one, we made it to Fiqy’s parents’ house.
He lived in a gated areaa, with a beautiful garden outside his house. Walking in, we we shocked at how high the ceilings were. Fiqy showed us to our room, and then we headed out to buy train tickets to Yogyakarta.
Walking along the streets around his neighborhood was crazy, he said everyone was staring because only locals walk along this path. Heading down a dark street, we passed a catfight and stray dogs hustling around, looking for food. As we reached the end of the street, Fiqy stopped an odd sort of van- it was like a minivan, but painted an odd maroon color with a door taken off. We hopped on, squishing into the too short seats. Immediately taking off, we left behind the guys outside the van that were suddenly interested in selling the foreigners trinkets that we did not need. A few minutes later, Fiqy motioned for us to get out, handing the driver two thousand rupiah or twenty cents.
We walked through a small market full of everything from bootlegged dvds to small, green fruit. The men selling things/hanging around the market were particularly aggressive, and I ended up putting my camera away and walking faster because it didn’t feel safe. Finally through the sketchy night market, we headed up some stairs to the local train station, where we would catch a train to the main station. Sitting on a bench, we generated some pretty intense stares, considering we were the only foreigners there. Fiqy explained that during the busy day trains, people would attach ropes to the train and climb up to the top, because there was not room on the bottom. People sat on picnic tables on both sides of the elevated tracks, selling water, soda, and snacks. Jumping on the train (that they bought from Japan a few years ago,) we headed to the station.
Arriving at the station, we stood in line only to realize the price was doubled because of Eid. Sighing, we headed to the atm to take out money for this ticket, and for our flight from Yogyakarta to Bali. There was a limit to the amount of money you could withdraw in one day, so we withdrew twice. Heading back to the ticket counter, we bought our tickets and quickly left. Outside the train station, we dodged small children begging for money and hopped in a small rickshaw. Fiqy spoke with the driver for a few minutes before we drove off, ambling down the street. We were dropped off ten minutes later, and we headed to a small outdoor restaurant. Maybe you couldn’t call it a restaurant. There was a small table with four plastic chairs to the side of the grill and preparation station. Fiqy ordered for us, and returned with plates of sate and rice. Sate is either grilled chicken or lamb, with a spicy peanut sauce. We added another red sauce to it, to make it extra spicy and devoured this delicious dinner. Leaving the sate place, we walked down the street to a 7-Eleven, which was like ones in the United States, but with lots of outdoor seating. We picked up some water and met up with a group sitting outside- a group of Fiqy’s couch surfing friends. There were Indonesian hosts, and two other surfers besides Becca and I- a guy from Sweden and a guy from Florida. He was the first American we’ve seen yet, because, as one of our Indonesian friends commented, “We don’t really see many Americans, they don’t seem to like to travel as much.” After hanging out for a little bit, we headed back home to sleep, exhausted from our travel.
We brushed our teeth in the sink-which was located in the dining room- and said goodnight to the lizards climbing along the walls. Waking up in our room the next morning, Fiqy brought us breakfast- white bread with margarine and sprinkles. Immediately after, I headed downstairs to brush my teeth and put my contacts in. His mom, ecstatic to see that I was awake, offered to make coffee. Knowing Becca would be so happy, I agreed and then sat at the table where she excitedly pointed for me to sit. She set out bread, what I thought was jam (it was chocolate spread), margarine and sprinkles. Unable to politely decline, Becca and I had more breakfast. We promised his mom that we would be back before dinner so we could try her cooking. Heading out the door, I noticed little red dots all over my arms and legs. Slightly worried, I put it out of my mind as we left.

Fish before they meet their harsh end in the market

We took another partial van to the markets, where we walked around vendors selling fruits, vegetables and spices. Walking through, we found the meat section, a lower area where red meat was cut and stored, and an upper market with fish and chicken. Walking into the upper section, we saw fish go from swimming  and flopping around in a pool to being hit on the head with hammers and sliced open. Continuing through the market, we saw lots of chickens laying in baskets, ready to be sliced in pieces for the next customer. Leaving the market, we walked through a small clothing section and out to the street. We stopped at an atm, where Fiqy showed us how to deposit the money we had taken out earlier to pay for our booked plane ticket. It seemed very strange to deposit money to pay for something, but apparently this was very common there. Heading to the mall, Fiqy took us to the top, where we overlooked Jakarta. We then stopped into a restaurant to have lunch, mixed vegetables with noodles and fried dory fish. Fiqy’s friend, Edna, met us at the end of the meal. She walked with us to the grocery store, where we picked up snacks for the train later and insect repellent lotion. The red marks on my arms and legs were becoming more raised and pronounced, and Becca was beginning to have the little red marks that I had earlier.

Edna, Fiqy, Becca and me at the Istiqlal Mosque.

We left the mall and headed to the Istiqlal Mosque, where the President was coming the next day to celebrate Eid. Taking off our shoes, we walked inside and up the stairs to a room where we were met with a guide who gave us silk robes to wear to be properly covered. He walked us up to the second level and explained all about the mosque, with Fiqy translating for us. We left the upper part, and walked downstairs where we were level with the men and women praying and relaxing, as they were still fasting for Ramadan. Eid was supposed to be today, but because of the movement of the sun, it was decided that it should be Wednesday, so we missed the celebration with Fiqy’s family. Leaving the mosque, we headed across the street to a church that was unfortunately not yet open. We took pictures outside and then headed back through the many bus switches to the mall. From there, Edna left and another one of Fiqy’s friends joined us, to have dinner back at his house.

At Fiqy's house, with his mom!

Back at Fiqy’s home, his mother scurried around, preparing everything for our early Eid celebration dinner. We had rice that was cooked for days in a bamboo, lattice wrapping, a spicybeef that was also cooked for many days, chicken with vegetables and a hard, cracker-like bread. We enjoyed our meal, and then sat around their living room talking with his mom, dad and sister before we headed to the train station.
Getting to the train station, we sat in a coffee shop, using the internet to book our hostels for Saigon and Hanoi. As we walked to our train compartment, everyone checked our ticket in order to point us in the same direction. Finally arriving at compartment seven, we walked on and settled into our seats. Given pillows and blankets, I blogged while Becca listened to music. People ordered food around us, and the small child in front of my seat kept playing peekaboo and he popped around both of the seats. Almost to Yogyakarta!