Jakarta Travel

Traveling in style. Emmerson in her fancy airplane bed somewhere over the Pacific.

We figured our travel time, door to door from Freeport, Illinois to Jakarta, Indonesia, was about 43 hours. There once was a time when I rather enjoyed long journeys especially if it involved airline travel; food, read, movie, sleep - repeat. Not a bad way to spend a day or two. But this was back in the footloose and baby free days. Emmerson is 6 months old today. She is quite a good traveler and has flown maybe 15 some odd times but the potential is always there for a mid-air major blow out. Air travel is particularly difficult with a little one. It’s not like you’re in a theater or restaurant and can step outside and go for a calming walk at 23,000 feet. Once airborne all you can do is hope for the best. I have become that disheveled looking guy clunking his way down the aisle laden with various unruly overflowing carry-ons, wet wipes bulging from the shirt pocket, blanket over the shoulder, spare binkies clipped here and there, a Mr. Banannaman dangling precariously from a diaper bag side pocket and one, wild-eyed, sleep-deprived, drooling baby that everyone desperately hopes does not sit anywhere near their seat. Needless to say my fondness for long distance travel has changed some.

We disembarked or is it embarked (does anyone ever accurately complete those arrival/departure cards? I fill them out differently every time and have never been questioned by immigration) from Chicago and just to mix things up a bit left from Midway, O'Hare's lesser known little sister. That leg of the trip was much less eventful than our first time we left from Chicago for Jakarta a few years back when we drove through one of the worst thunderstorms I have ever witnessed. It included torrential rain and intermittent periods of hale that had cars scurrying for any overhead protection they could find. Our luggage was on the roof rack and thus we began our epic journey with several dripping wet bags. I’m sure the baggage checkers loved rummaging through that mess. This time around the weather was fine. We arrived in LAX around 5 p.m. and hunkered down for an 8 hour layover. LAX is quite the scene. It is one of the worst international terminals I have experienced; rather ironic since it is a primary point of entry for visitors to the US. One might think the city of LA would construct a showcase airport, designed to energize and excite expectant visitors and see off those leaving with a heartfelt, good ole American “Y’all come back now, you hear?” or at least a Hollywoodesque "See you at the Movies" or "Keep Reaching for the Stars". Instead the message one gets is “don’t bother me and while you’re at it go home” which is maybe the sentiment many in California have these days…. I liken the international part of LAX to a cattle yard except a bit more depressing. Everyone mills around the huge central area looking befuddled, anxious and a bit scared. Various surly airline "cowboys" herd the passengers into the correct (sometimes) "corral" where they wait for their fate to be determined:

Traveler: “Hi, we would like bulkhead seats and our bags to be checked through to our final destination if possible.”
Airline Person: “You need to pass your bags through security before you get your boarding pass – see that line over there with 5000 people in it, you need to go there and have your bags checked, then you can come back here and check in.”
Traveler: “But I have already waited an hour in this check-in-line to get my boarding pass and check in our luggage!”
Airline Person: “Didn’t you see that sign over there at the entrance to the check-in-lines concerning baggage security?”
Traveler: “Oh you mean the sign that the construction guys digging up the floor have hung their jackets over?”
Airline Person: “Yes that’s the one. Have a nice day.”

Throw in various LA oddballs, dramatic Latin goodbyes, security guys with machine guns, peddlers, people sleeping in corners here and there and it makes for a pretty interesting scene, unless you are in the midst of it with a small child - then it is rather tedious.

Fortunately my brother Eric and his family live in the area and met us for dinner and a visit. Emmerson was wired out of her gourd. It was well into her sleeping time but so much was going on that she did not know what to do. She was wide eyed and appendage flapping the entire time. My two nieces, Erica and Ashley, loved Emmerson in this mode and kept her occupied. Xiamara, my sister in law from El Salvador, and Alicia commiserated over the difficulties of living overseas and saying goodbye to family. Eric fulfilled his elderly brother duties and made fun of me for what I was to experience in the next day or so.

My brothers family at LAX with one very wired baby.

The flight from LA to Taipei was not full so everyone was able to spread out and we had two empty seats beside us in the middle bulkhead section. Emmerson slept in a wall mounted bassinet for most of that leg of the journey. In the a.m. of that flight an elderly Vietnamese women came and sat beside us and became Emmerson’s surrogate grandma. She held Emmerson for a bit and then gave us all sorts of advice on how to keep her happy. She also informed us that we should give Emmerson lots of water or she would not grow hair. Emmerson is still pretty bald so I hooked her up to a water bottle as soon as we arrived home. The rest of the trip was without incident and we took some video footage of Emmerson in the various airports.

Making friends

Chang Kai Chek International in Taipei is a rather strait forward, no frills type of airport. They pleasantly warn visitors via various signs that the death penalty awaits those involved in drug trafficking in Taiwan – and have a nice day. Kuala Lumpur airport is quite modern, very clean and nice to hang out in. That you are in a Moslem country is evidenced by; the high number of women sporting black, head to toe burqas along with really expensive designer sun glasses and high fashion shoes; the conveniently placed prayer rooms; and the outrageous price of beer. Not only the women were shrouded this time around in KL, but the entire city was covered in a mysterious fog. It just so happened that our arrival coincided with a curious environmental situation that would eventually escalate into what the Malaysian government has deemed a national emergency. Smoke from fires in Sumatra were blowing across the Straits of Malacca and engulfing peninsular Malaysia in a lung busting haze.

Finally we landed in Soekarno – Hatta International Airport, where we met Samsun, our friends the Wilsons’ driver and were whisked away through Jakarta’s own locally produced lung busting haze. It was incredibly difficult to leave friends and family in the States but after two car-rides, five airports, one monorail, three airplanes, five airline meals, and 43 hours it was finally good to be home.

Jakarta Mall

A palm tree gateway in the atrium welcomes Jakartans to the mall Kelapa Gading

The Mall is a major part of life for many Jakartans. Within a five minute drive from my house we have two full on multi level, movie complexed, food courted, sports clubbed, department store bound, mega malls; Mall Kelapa Gading and Mal Artha Gading. Across the street from my apartment is a third named the Sport Mall, where, according to the billboard advertisement, “Shopping is Sport”. Included in this mall is an indoor arena that can seat several thousand and the “Sports Bar” which takes up a good portion of the second level of the complex. Connected to Mall Kelapa Gading or MKG as it is affectionately called by the locals who consider it their mall, is a condominium complex under construction. It is being advertised as a “one stop living experience”. I am sure many a Jakartan gets dreamy eyed when imagining such an existence. When I first moved to Jakarta I dreaded the mall and made a point of avoiding going there. It just seemed wrong to be living in such an exotic locale as Indonesia and hanging out in a mall. It did not take long for this sentiment to be purged from my extra sensitive culturally aware new guy in a foreign country psyche and I soon started frequenting the mall like everyone else in Jakarta. The degree to which the mall has made itself a part of life here in Jakarta was evidenced by a statement made recently by one of my students. For our class trip we went to an UNESCO World Heritage site called Ujung Kulon. It is located on the western edge of Java, accessible only by boat and is a very remote, protected and pristine environment. No one lives there accept the rangers and the fishermen who ply their trade in the area’s waterways. My student asked if there would be a mall there. I said yes, sarcastically. She then inquired how much money she should bring for the Ujung Kulon Mall.

One of the more interesting aspects of the malls here, or at least our mall here in Kelapa Gading, is the booths they set up in the middle of the mall. They are used to advertise new products or occupied periodically by the mall nomads who make the circuit hocking their wares in the various malls of Jakarta. Many of these kiosk people tend to be rather aggressive, especially the massage equipment sellers. They often lunge out at unsuspecting passersby with some scary hand held massage device rotating and gyrating madly and make serious attempts to apply the thing to your back or some other muscle bound area. Most mall goers don’t seem fazed by this treatment and actually stop for a bit of a rub down. I make good use of my people avoidance skills; get my speed walk on, do the eye contact aversion gaze and scurry on by.

A massage store guy wielding a hand held massage device looks for a potential customer

Some of the kiosks offer services that are frightfully painful, not necessarily to the receiver but to the unfortunate soul who manages to catch a glimpse of what is taking place. Alicia once saw a scary hand held massage device salesperson giving a full on (and fully visible) upper butt crack massage to a middle aged man who did not seem the least bit concerned about this public display. Another time I saw a woman in a medical looking outfit holding some high tech device. She was showing a possible client something on a portable TV while another very curious individual looked on intently. My curiosity got the best of me and I discreetly ducked over to get a better look at this unusual display; a very bad decision on my part. The high tech device was a super powered camera that was used to take close-ups of your scalp, focusing especially on the area around the hair follicles. This is not something you want to see – maybe your own scalp at the doctors or something – but definitely not some old guy’s nasty head at the mall. While the patron and onlooker where staring intently at the giant hair follicle on the screen the medical looking lady was excitedly telling him all about the damaged area and how it can cause hair loss and what magical follicle cleaning device she had to help him and his horrible looking head. After this I was feeling really stressed. I think the crazy massage device guy could sense this as he positioned himself in my path, waving the crazy device with a bit of a mad glint in his eye. I did a putar balik or a U-turn (another whole story in those two very innocent looking Indo words), avoided the guy all together and called it a day.

So if you are ever in Jakarta and want to experience a bit of the city, forget Jalan Jaksa and the Monas; hail a taxi and get to a mall.

Jakarta Baby

Tiny Baby at a Big Temple

 Tiny Baby in a Big Bed

Tiny Baby in the Bamboo



Tiny Baby in Bali



Tiny Baby with the Band



Tiny Baby in the Monkey Forest



Tiny Baby

The baby I have been involved in having made her debut early in the a.m. on Sunday, February 28th. The details of Emmerson Corinne's premier can be read here if curious about such an experience.

Further Adventures of Pixie the Roof Cat

“I think your cat just fell through the ceiling of my classroom”. Not a comment you hear everyday, especially while at school and certainly not what I expected to hear when the music teacher walked through my door. I went to investigate and sure enough, there was Pixie being consoled by the admissions director who, fortunately, is one of the main violators of the “no cats on campus” rule that exists at school (see “Pixie the Roof Cat” post from Saturday, October 16, 2004 for more details). She was quite freaked out, Pixie, not the administrator, but was otherwise unharmed. Apparently, Pixie has found a way to get into the crawl space between the hung ceilings and the actual roof of the buildings here at campus and today ventured onto a ceiling tile that could not hold her weight (perhaps she needs to go back to life on the streets for a bit and regain her svelte figure). The music teacher heard a loud crash in the practice room and went to see what was responsible for the disturbance. Imagine his surprise when he saw Pixie standing on the floor amongst various percussion instruments. All involved are fine, just a bit shaken up, especially the music teacher. Hopefully, Pixie has learned a lesson and will curtail her rooftop activities to less precarious situations.

Jakarta vs Singapore

New Years Eve in Singapore

I’m involved in having a baby (I was scolded the other day when I used “we” when referring to some aspect of the pregnancy – as I am certainly not with child). Involvement in having a baby includes lots of shopping. I was not aware of this. Fortunately, according to certain persons’ qualified to make such an assessment, Jakarta does not have good, yet cheap baby products; actually I believe “cute” not "good" was the descriptive term used. Thus my involvement in baby shopping in Jakarta has been limited. Unfortunately, Singapore does have cute and cheap baby stuff. The last few days of Christmas holidays I spent a lot of time in stores I never knew existed shopping for items I have never imagined. Once while looking for a diaper bag I asked what is required of a bag to be deemed diaper worthy – actually I don’t think that wording would have gone over well – but I was quite curious about the characteristic of such a bag and inquired. I received an exasperated look and a sigh that showed true sympathy for my ignorance followed by a detailed account of all the characteristics necessary to qualify a container as a truly proper diaper bag. I thought that a left over plastic supermarket bag would do the trick but I also imagined the versatile shopping bag would make quite a nice baby carrier as well – put a bit of padding in the bottom, perhaps double up the bags for some security and you’re good to go.

While we were in our 4th store (Singapore has 100s, perhaps 1000s of stores devoted to things baby all within a ridiculously concentrated area) and again unable to find the proper bag, I pointed to what I thought appeared to be the elusive item. I was given a sympathetic look and informed that it was a portable baby sun shade. Oh. I retreated into a corner and became as much a part of the background as possible. I noticed that I was not alone.

When you walk into a baby store the difference between men and women becomes glaringly obvious. As a kid I was asked how I knew the difference between men and women and responded that men have furry legs. Well observing men and women in a baby store would be just as telling. Women buzz with energy and coo over little baby size Santa outfits, pint sized overalls, mini French berets and "classic" (important) Winnie the Pooh pajamas. Men stand in out of the way corners and coves, slightly slouched, staring glassy eyed into space, clutching their wallets with one hand and previously purchased baby products with the other.

So one crib, crib mattress, crib mattress cover, changing shelf thing, blue bucket that attaches to the changing shelf thing, Fischer Price development enhancing vibrating chair and lots of adorable clothes later, (the elusive proper diaper bag managed to evade our persistent search, to be hunted another day) I shouldered our loot, looking like an urban Sherpa and stumbled, exhausted back to our hotel.

People always brag about the advantages of Singapore over other Asian cities. Well I have finally come up with an advantage Jakarta has over the City of Lions; few good baby stores.