Category: Uncategorized
It’s 4.30 Saturday morning. In the shared kitchen, some of my housemates are making breakfast. It’s a very early breakfast which has to be done before the break of dawn. Then they will be fasting, no more eating and drinking for the rest of the day. They must not show any negative emotions either. When the sun sets, they will break the fasting. It’s the thirteenth day, so they still have to fast for another 16 days.
My bedroom is quite special. It’s the biggest one in the house but no sunlight or fresh air. And I can smell anything here; good and bad, especially when they forgot to turn on the fan in the kitchen. Just like I can smell the food they’re cooking right now. Only the smell I receive, never the food. So, it can be very depressing staying in this cave, especially when having no job just like now.
It’s been two months since I resigned from my last employment and returned to this polluted crowded city, Jakarta. Soon, after the Ramadan is over, even more people will come to this city to look for jobs. It is definitely not a nice feeling at all, having no job and no income. I still can survive, but I also know that I can’t continue being like this any longer. I’m running out the money.
For the first month I was back in Jakarta, it was definitely a hell. I was living in limbo, my life was in the hand of those visa people. And for the second time, they refused my application because they think that I would not return to Indonesia from my holiday. So I was waiting and waiting. It took only three days for them to give the refusal, but instead I had to wait for one month until I hear something from them. The upsetting part was, they actually already made the refusal decision in one week, but they didn’t forward my application to the visa office for collection, not until my ex boss sent them an email. It was definitely not nice hanging someone’s life by a thread, especially when the person was not given the chance to explain. All I wanted is to have a vacation, a break that I deserve. And the fact that I used to serve their country and government didn’t mean a thing at all.
Sometimes I think it is just a lot easy for a girl who does not even speak the language to enter the country for a marriage. Probably because she is not a threat to steal their jobs, just being a stay home wife. Maybe this is why they are problems with the immigrants in Europe. They don’t speak the language, don’t mingle with the locals but still they live and work there. So I guess this is why there’s a saying, when in Rome do as the Romans do. But I believe the government and their immigration policy are also to be blamed for those problems.
And whom should I blame for the situation I’m in now? No one except myself. The only one who can change my life is myself. A friend said that I have to offer myself a chance and I don’t need a savior, but a guide.
I am so upset with myself now because I know that I’ve been wasting my time for two months and maybe more until I could find a job. I feel disappointed with myself because I have to start from the scratch again. I should have not been here at all. The money was good and maybe it was a mistake leaving the job, but I didn’t feel happy when I was there.
If I may say, the bright side is, I can see again who is friend or foe. I really hope that I have not let them down, those good friends of mine. I also think that I actually do deserve this break (without having to think about running out the money) and I can be as lazy as what Bruno Mars sings in his Lazy Song; today I don’t feel like doing anything, I just wanna lay in my bed… But doing it everyday is just too much!
Going to the gym still doesn’t help much with the insomnia I have and I’ve turned into a nocturnal too! I feel so bad every time I see my housemates are getting up in the morning, going to work, living their lives etc. Me, even my stuff are still neatly packed in those luggage. I’ve been living in someone else’s room and with someone else’s stuff. I don’t know where I’m going to live next month since the owner of this bedroom will return soon.
Bla bla bla… sorry for the whining. I know I have to do change, to be in charge with my own life. But still, it feels good to let everything out. I have job applications to submit, fat to burn and brain to occupy. Wish me luck!
5.30 am now, and I’ve just made a promise to myself to stand on my feet again. Thank you for the support, guys! 
7 Nov 2010
Sitting here all alone in the shopping town. Yes, correct, a shopping town, not a shopping mall. Enjoying two scoops of my favorite ice cream and waiting for my best friend Fergus to arrive.
I should have been leaving to the airport to move to Yogya, but they have canceled all the flights since Merapi is still erupting. So they reschedule my flight tomorrow but they couldn’t guarantee there will be a bus taking the passengers from Solo to Yogya. I dislike watching the news about the disasters because i think the media have turned it into something casual just like gossip show.
It’s the opposite things happening here in the shopping town, the people don’t event have a clue what’s happening out there. It’s a luxurious life they’re living in. Sitting in front of me is a family. The mother is busy with her blackberry. The daughter couldn’t stop bullying her little brother, while the son, well, he’s just looking at the ice cream and ignoring his snob sister.
At the other table, a rich group of youngsters laughing about their expensive way of life. And the music they’re playing here, it’s just so boring. I think it’s just so uncreative to rearrange other people’s songs. This kind of music is very popular now.
Passing by, expats with their blond-dyed hair Indonesian girls, some of them are strolling with their gorgeous mixed kids. It’s strange that they all have the same kind of fashion style. They all look the same.
Of, Fergus is here now. Will continue writing soon.
this is the time when you realize that there’s no use moving on…
which one is me?
the happy one?
or the sad me?
i dont even recognize myself in the mirror.
hiding behind the laughter.
hiding behind the tears.
it’s my life as a fake.
it’s a fake life i’m living.
Been off from Facebook for a while. I think I’ve had enough at least for now. But perhaps actually it’s fear that’s been making me feeling low. It is the question: do I love myself? Whatever the answer is, I just want to hide myself from the world. Knowing that someone cares about me is frightening.
I watched The Hurt Locker this evening. The movie was awesome! (The options were to watch The Shutter Island which doesn’t have very good reviews but it’s Leonardo DiCaprio at 6 pm or The Hurt Locker which has won many awards but has no famous stars at 5.35 pm. I chose to watch The Hurt Locker because it’s being nominated for Oscar).
Choosing the seat is never easy. We all want to have the best seat in the theater. I could have chosen the one on the aisle so I wouldn’t have to disturb anyone at all to get to my seat, but I chose the one in the middle instead for the best view of course. There were already 3 other people chosen the seat next to mine.
Inside I learn those three were single women because the one next to me was alone and the other two are friends. I guess single women go to movie alone on weekends. That’s sad.
I’ve learned something from the film that life is a choice. That life is full of choices. But I guess in my case I was sometimes so blind to see those choices. Too ignorant to find out. (The options are: to learn about those choices and take the responsibility or just to shut my eyes about it for an easy way out. And I still can’t make up my mind).
I went to see the optometrist again today. When I’m being way too exhausted, my poor left eye pays the price. (The options were: to go home early from work and postpone everything to see another doctor for the emergency situation I was having or to wait until the next day to see mine, the cute doctor with sexy ass. I chose to wait for another day and finished those important things I had to do).
Physically, I felt fine although I haven’t been to the gym or do the wall climbing for about three weeks , but I guess my eye has given me a warning. (The options: to finish working early and just go to the gym any time or stay late working. I chose to work for at least 12 hours a day).
This has been such a hectic time for my colleague and I, we have been preparing a big international performance at the Fatahillah Square. (The options were: to hold the event at the National Gallery for the easiest coordination but small audience or at the Fatahillah Square with such a big headache for collaborating with the government but we would get thousands of audience. We chose the Fatahillah Square).
So, yeah, I went to the doctor by taxi (The options: to take buses which a lot cheaper but it might take longer time to get there or to take a taxi which is of course expensive. I chose to take a taxi and the driver didn’t know the way to the hospital! But which kind of taxi? The taxi with cheapest fare or the regular one? I chose the regular one. Why? Why didn’t I just wait for the cheapest fare? Well I could have waited because it wouldn’t matter what time I’d be arriving there, I would still have to wait for an approximately an hour anyway. But I needed to get there as soon as possible because I had to make a lot of phone calls. Where should I hail the taxi at? The West Street or the North Street? I chose to go to the North Street. Should I wait at the corner of the streets waiting for the passing by taxis or should I walk a bit to save time? I chose to walk).
The taxi driver was clueless where to go. (Should I be upset about that or should I treat him nicely? I gave him a smile where getting off). It cost about 15,000 for the ride (should I gave him the right amount or a bigger bank-note so he could give me the change? I gave him 3 of 5,000 notes). After driving around in circle, I finally got off from the taxi (should I get off in front of the restaurant and cross the street or should the taxi take me to the other side of the street? I chose to get off in front of the restaurant).
The doctor office is on the 4th floor (take an elevator which might take a while or the spiral stairs which always makes me dizzy? I chose to take the elevator because the door opens just after i was done thinking).
I had to wait a while until they call me in. (Which seat? The ones in front of the TV which actually a bit far from the doctor’s office or to sit on one of those seats in the crowded corner in from of his office? I chose to sit in front of the TV. Should I listen to my iPod or watch the TV? I didn’t do either one of them, I was busy making phone calls.)
As usual, I only spent about 5 minutes in his office and he didn’t mention my name correctly either! That’s fine, because I was sure that now he remembers it very well. We joked a little but too bad I couldn’t stare at his sexy ass. It was not a difficult choice to take at all, but my eye was too sore.
So I needed to get online as soon as possible. The options were to walk to one of the internet cafes which are not that far from the hospital, but they might be close. Or to go to the one in the city center, but I need to take a public transportation to get there. (To take a bus but then I have to walk or a taxi to drop me off in front of the cafe? I chose to take the bus. Where should I get on? Here, at the bus shelter or at the intersection? I chose to wait at the intersection).
Getting closer to the destination, I had another question in my mind. Should I get off here while the bus is stopping at the red light or to wait until it has crossed the street? I got off at the intersection. I walked down the street (should I have some lunch first or go directly to the internet cafe? I went to the internet cafe directly but bought some snacks on the way there. What kind of snack? The cakes or fritters? I chose to buy some fritters).
I haven’t been at the cafe for ages. They have changed the rental system. How many hours should I spend here? Should I bought the 3 hours package or the 5 hours one? Will I be here again any time soon? I chose to buy the 3 hours package.
I knew I wanted to seat in the front part of the cafe because it has the most expensive rental fee and it’s much more quieter. But which booth? The one on the aisle or in the corner? I chose to take the corner booth for a better privacy. I spent 3 hours there organizing the event online. Now it’s time to eat the fritters, but with which hand because of them will be busy typing? I ate using the left hand while the right one was busy clicking on the mouse.
When the time was running out, I was thinking that maybe I should stay longer so I could work on my Farmville. But I chose to leave and do something else instead. That poor alley cat was still sleeping at the entrance. I knew he was going to die soon. I just knew.
I needed to get real lunch, a very late lunch. Where should I go? To the Sundanese restaurant on this block or the American Burger King? But hey, I had to withdraw some cash first at the ATM which is located in the building across the Burger King. So, going to the Sundanese restaurant was out of question.
At the ATM, people were queueing already and left no room for more. Should I wait outside first or should I just join them? I chose to wait in line although it didn’t too much space for people passing by. But which ATM? The 50,000 or 100,000 one? I wanted to withdraw from the 100,000 machine because it wouldn’t take too much space in my wallet, but then I remember that tomorrow might not be easy to get small change. So I chose to get the cash from the 50,000 bank-note machine.
I had a second thought about where I should get my lunch. Eating at Burger King would be so expensive, but I wouldn’t mind having the up-sized French fries and lemon tea. Ok, Winda, if you chose to go to Burger King, it means that you shouldn’t have a dinner. So I went there. But the restaurant was under renovation. What to do then? Should I go to another restaurant? But not in the same building, because there were only expensive restaurants. So I decided to go to the cinema, just to see if there was a film about to be shown soon. This my friends, brings you back to the first paragraph of this post.
I didn’t mean to bore you with my list of choices, but all I wanted to say is that life if full of choices. Imagine that our lives would be different if somehow we decide to take the other option, the other choice, the other path. It all makes the difference. This will effects your life and other’s. This is action and reaction. But yes, you can make a difference and it’s in your own hands. But please also do bear in mind that you have to be ready to take all the responsibility and consequences. No regrets because things happen for a reason.
So, have you done something different lately?
I was sitting in the library again. It’s been more than a year since the last time I did it. Now, they’ve changed the system again. I didn’t go to the library often, but every time I’m here, the system is always different. They have a bigger place now, although I wasnt sure if the book collection is better. But if someday I have to go, I would donate all my books to this library. At least then know that my books would be useful to people. I’ve been waiting until that day finally comes.
I was planning to work here in the library instead of sitting at my desk in the office. I tried to work a little bit, but the only thing I wanted to do was writing. I always got confused about which grammar I have to use. But what the hell. I should kept on writing.
So yes, I was here about a year ago. But it was a happy time for me. I was jobless as usual but I had a boyfriend, Giovanni. I sometimes spent my time here just to read or to get free internet connection. My life was so sad and happy at the same time. I didn’t have much money left but I didn’t really want to do anything either. But I knew that I had to keep myself busy.
I felt that where ever I go, the road was getting further and further. It was not easy to make myself taking that road. I felt like I was the poorest man on earth. But walking was the only thing I could do. People probably could see how sad my face was. Just walking and comparing myself to those lucky people who I met on the streets.
So I took the same road again today and feeling exactly just like I felt a year ago. I felt like standing on the crossroad again. I had no destination, no place to go. I walked as fast as I could and then jumped into a bus to take me to the library. The same sad city. It’s the same sad people who I’ve seen. It’s the same pathetic me, that I’ve always known.
I jumped off the bus but the driver didn’t even bother to stop the bus or at least to take the bus closer to the shelter. So I got off literary in the middle of the street while trying to save myself from the motorbikes. I crossed the bridge which was full of many baggers and sellers. I took a look at those old female beggars, hoping that none of them was my own mother. I was sure that she has been making up stories about a bad daughter I was so the whole world would pity her. A couple of men were asking for charity. One was standing on one end of the bridge handing the passer-by envelopes, while his partner was standing in the middle of the bridge asking for the envelopes to be returned. If you took the envelope, you are expected to put some money in then return it to the other man. But I believe that it’s all a scam. The money never goes to the mosques or any orphanages.
Then in the middle of the bridge I saw a man selling shocking pink cotton candy. I actually wanted to buy a bag of it, but then I saw that man was smoking with his empty eyes looking to an infinite direction. So, I was just keep on walking. Actually, I bought some a few days ago in Pasar Baru. I didn’t really want to buy it but I just felt sorry for the old seller. So I bought a bag of cotton candy, a kilo of snack fruits and a bag of filled fried cassava. All from three different old men sellers. Looking at those old men kind of reminds me of my own father, and it makes me sad.
I crossed over the bridge heading to the building in front of me to get some cash. I needed some money to renew my library membership. So I went to the ATM then again, another memory came to me. It was in 2007, I came to a bank with my boyfriend back then, Claes. He owed me some money, so we went to the bank to deposit the money. But since my saving was in the local currency, so we had to go the a money changer upstairs then returned to the bank. I remembered very well how those tellers were looking at us. They made me feel like I was a call girl whom just got paid from her customer!
But yeah, still I went to that bank to withdraw some money. The bank was not the only place that reminds me of Claes. Actually the building that I’ve been working at, could be a prefect place to see him again. I knew that he’s in charge of a project in South East Asia, so he could be there every time he has to make a report to his partner’s office. I sometimes imagined that he was walking toward me or he would probably be sitting with those big fat consultants in Starbucks. Then I would just scream his name and he would be just being so awkward about it. I missed him so much. How I really wish things could have been different between us.
Remembering those, I continued walking to the restaurant. I saw a mother and her son eating there too. I envied them so much. I saw a weird man making friends with the other customers in the restaurant, while an old man over there put his ice cream into the drink and mixed them up.
I ate without knowing the reason why I chose to have those kind of food. Then I kind of remembered a date that I have a couple of nights ago. I met this guy at a party while lining up for the dinner. I was with my boss and I told him that there was nothing I could eat from this table. He asked me why. I said because I’m a vegetarian. But before I could finish my sentence telling him that I still eat a certain kind of food, then this guy, out of no where, just told me that there are vegetarian food on the other table. Then we lined up together but I didn’t have a chance to explain him that I was only a semi-vegetarian. So when I chose shrimps for my pasta, he didn’t let me choose that. So, I chose asparagus instead! But yeah, we had a great date.
So there I was at the library feeling kind of lonely and sad. I had good friends but they are always nowhere to be found when they are having fun. Without me. That was actually the real reason why I sometimes felt so upset lately. Maybe I was just exaggerating or just having a depression attack. Maybe I wasn’t there either when things were better for me.
I had no family. But when I couldn’t find my so-called good friends, whom else should I lean on to?
Outside, the girls, my housemates were chatting loudly. They do that all the time, hanging around in the kitchen until late night. This time, they were celebrating the birthday of one of girls. A chocolate cake was served on the table. I had a slice myself. I arrived home when they were cutting it. I wondered if I have to buy them a cake for my birthday on Saturday as well.
I am not that close with anyone here. I do not want to make friends. Not too close. I stay in my room and only go out to take a shower or go to office. I need my own space since I do not have anywhere else to go or stay except this small room. The fan is on all the time since there is no fresh air flowing in from the window. Neither I have the sunlight. I do not have TV, but since my room is next to the living room and they always turn it out loud, so yes, I could hear all the bad soap operas, game shows. But I never watch them. And they do not watch any news programs either except for the celebrity gossips.
My (bed) room is packed with all the belongings that I have left. Not that many and they are only few basic things that i really need. My life is so simple (is it?): get up, go to work, do things after work, go home, take a shower, spend time online then go to sleep. I am a loner, I like being alone. But i do not like feeling lonely. No one does.
It is so messy, exactly just like my life. I never had the will to tidy it up because I keep feeling that I will not be staying here for too long. I am only transiting. But where to? Living and moving from one place to another helps me to make choices. I learned to choose which is important and which one is not. And a human actually does not need that much to survive.
I have managed to survive so far, especially during the last two difficult years. When I feel things are just to much for me then it always cross my mind just surrender. I never expect that much from life either. What else do I have left when the only family I have left stabbed me in the back? (I do love you, Mom, but I have had enough!). Gosh, the pain is still there.
And love, is there something as such?
Sometimes I feel like a fake every time I see myself smiling with that big smile on my face. I was smiling, I am. But I guess I could fake it easily. My smile was not like that before. That big smile I have was created during my initial training as a flight attendant . The trainer asked us to smile in front of the other student; with lips closed or a grin. That other student said that I look better with the big grin on my face. So I started to draw back the lips and reveal the teeth. I do look much better. I had my perfect picture taken with the perfect hair, make up and of course the perfect smile for my flight attendant ID card. I love that picture so much, I even told the HR people that the card was lost so I could keep it when my contract was over. So, I believe as long as I could put that perfect smile on my face, people would not need to know how I really feel deep down inside.
Other thing that I have been faking ridiculously is the way I walk every time I am passing that handsome colleague of mine at the office. I know that I will walk awkwardly and get so many butterflies in my stomach every time I see his face when entering the room. I try so hard not to notice him and desperately hope that there is something much more interesting than him at the end of the room. But there is none! The sad part is that he does not even notice or talk to me! (I think it is because he knows that he would not be able to resist me!). My eyes are so well trained to spot those good looking men! And having a crush on is what keeps me alive. I just realize that it is actually my pain killer. I like being flirty!
Life is… I do not know. I thought I was happy. I thought I knew what I want already. But maybe I am. Maybe I do. Perhaps I just do not understand everything yet. But I have come this far. Not rich yet, still homeless, and found no love yet, but I think my life is just fine. Looking back, my life has been so colorful with experience. Thirty years is a long time already. I do not know where I am going to, but I am sure that I will get there someday. Somehow.
Thirty years. I have been the person I wanted to be, I think. I have found good friends to replace my family. I have found so many homes when I am homeless. I have my experiences to help me survive. But still I do not have enough of them yet. And I can be only me. No body else I would rather be.
Thirty years. I am thanking my good friends and those who have helped and supported me. Those I still remember and those I have forgotten. The new and old ones. Thank you! I hope to keep our friendships for another thirty years ahead.
30 years…I have no regrets at all and I’ll always be flirty 
Jakarta, 23h15m left to my birthday.
* Quote by Dane Peddigrew
A black van full of backpackers was just arriving. I could hear the Dangdut music was being played there. It was stopping in front of that cheap hostel on Jalan Jaksa. It’s the same hostel where my Irish friend, Shane was staying during his visit in Jakarta. I was walking closer to the van and I could see that the licence number doesn’t belong to the city. My tiny rented room is just opposite the hostel but the van was blocking this narrow street. I could see that there was a motorbike waiting to go to the other side if the street.
One by one the backpackers were getting off the van. They were speaking in French. Male, female and I saw probably a Chinese girl in the group too. I could have said something to them in French, but didn’t have the courage to speak the language I had learned for more than four years.
Gosh, my Dutch is messing up with my French! As my English always comes up every time I try to speak in French. While French always interferes when I speak Japanese! My friend told me those things happen because all those foreign languages I learned during my adulthood are being stored in only one side of the brain, the left side if I remember it correctly. While the mother tongue stays in the other part of the brain.
By the way, as I was trying to open the pad lock, I still could hear them talking and looking a bit confused. Yeah, I know, I don’t really like arriving in a new place in the evening either. I can’t recognize the surrounding because everything is dark and it limits your options and awareness.
I remember my experience in Athens very well. The huge cruise ship, the Minoan was arriving in Patra at about 8.30 in the evening. I had to continue my trip to Athens but I didn’t make any hotel bookings at all. So I didn’t really know where to go actually. They said that I had to take a bus from the port to Athens. And the bus stop was just about 10 minutes walk. So I dragged my suitcase and my heavy backpack there. Along the way, I saw few of the cruise attendants were already on their way home.
By the way, they’re not that nice at all. Few things were missing from their service: smile and being helpful. I was the one who had to carry the heavy suitcase of my old Italian roommate, Pietra, down stairs. No downward escalator that goes to the passenger exit. Pietra actually had asked few attendants to help her, but they just turned their head around.
I shared the cabin with her and a family. A mother and their two daughters. I assumed that they’re a family and Pietra told me that they must be from Bulgaria or somewhere nearby. Physically they were beautiful but weird and not nice to each other . The only nice one was the youngest daughter. We even tried to have a conversation. She was speaking in her own language and I was talking in English! We didn’t understand each other of course, but she smiled when I was smiling at her. So there you go, we actually have an international language which is understood by any human race.
Pietra and I, spent time together during dinner. She spoke in Italian of course and I understood whatever she was saying but the funny thing was, I actually replied in Spanish! I had no idea why at that time, Spanish was the only language I could think of. I guess I had to thank Dora The Explorer for teaching me Spanish!
As a souvenir, I gave Pietra a long Batik scarf. And in return, she gave me a huge pear that she grew herself in her garden. As we’re waiting in the lobby, I noticed that some people were talking about me and they gave me that kind of not nice stare. I guess they had never seen any Asian before and therefore I must had been a Chinese. Well, I felt sorry for them because their knowledge was very limited.
So I walked to the bus stop, there were people waiting for the bus to go to Athens. I think I had only to pay for 18 Euros for an almost 3 hour ride from Patra to Athens. I had to wait for about 15 minutes until the bus was ready. It was a medium size bus and free sitting. So I chose to sit on the second row, right side of the aisle. Next to me was a woman, we didn’t talk much. I didn’t fell asleep, I was enjoying the ride. Getting closer to the city, I could see Parthenon from a far.
They said that Athens was at the last stop and I still didn’t know where to go. Found on the travel book that Lars gave me as a birthday present, few hotel in the Plaka area, just below the Parthenon. But didn’t make any bookings yet, I was only taking my chances.
It turned out that the bus stop was not in the centre of Athens at all. I had to take another bus or taxi to go to Plaka. Looking so confused, I asked a couple of lovers where to go. They said that I should take a taxi and it would only cost for about 7 Euros to go there. A taxi driver saw his prey and offered me a ride. I didn’t trust him at all because I saw him talking to the other drivers not in a very nice way. The taxi had a meter, but I didn’t know where he was taking me.
He spoke a little bit of English and tried to show me few interesting places along the way. The Parthenon looks so beautiful at night. I told him to go to any nearest cheap hotels from the Parthenon. So we arrived in Plaka and I ended up paying 20 Euros for the ride!
I had no idea at all which hotel I should go to. It’s already almost one pass midnight. So I just knocked at any hotels. The first one was already full. Then I got an unpleasant experience at the second one. The concierge was in the middle of a phone conversation, so I had to interrupt him in order to ask for a room. He said it’s full. Fine with me, so I walked myself out. But I couldn’t open the door. I asked him to help me with the door, but he just gave me a sign how I should open it. But I couldn’t d it so asked him again. Instead of helping me out with the door, he start yelling at me without even bother hanging up the phone. As I start yelling back at him, I finally managed to open the door. Wow, that was not something I expected from a famous city like Athens at all!
I got lucky at the fourth hotel. I don’t remember the name anymore. But the man was so nice, he even gave me a discount for such a big room. I think I only had to pay for 35 Euros a night, with a very nice breakfast.
So, let’s go back to the present. Those French backpackers. As I open the windows of my rented room, which is on the second floor, I could still saw them waiting outside the hostel. I think they didn’t make any booking in advance. But I still couldn’t figure out why they took a van with a non Jakarta’s licence number. Then they entered the hostel, while I was starting to write this blog.
Let me tell you a little about Jalan Jaksa. In English it means the Attorney Street. I don’t know why, need to do research on that. But all I know, the street is so famous for backpackers. Cheap hotels, cheap pubs and cheap hookers too. The street is situated in the centre of the city centre, right in the centre of Central Jakarta. On the next two blocks is the National Monument with real gold on top and its park is much bigger than the Eiffel Tower’s. And just opposite the monument, there the Presidential Palace is. All the important governmental offices and public places are nearby. You can just walk from the main train station Gambir to this street. And as for me, it takes only 10 minutes walk to go to the gym or about 10 bus ride to the office from the main avenue of General Sudirman.
For me Jalan Jaksa is such an interesting place. It only exists in its own world. It’s just like the Kemang area in the South Jakarta. Foreigners are everywhere all over the place. What I’ve noticed so far, that there are many people from some African countries and those from –Stan ones. I don’t know what they’re doing here, but it’s obviously not only for a short stay. Those from African countries always occupy one of the street food stalls in the evening. While those men from the –Stan countries, well, I always see them on my way to the office in the morning, waiting for something together in front of an office.
While the prostitutes, I see them sitting inside the pubs or sometimes on the street sides calling for the men to come closer. I once asked Shane when he was here: so, had any girls come to you yet? He said no. Good!
Ah Shane, I believe he’s in Melbourne now and been travelling for more than two and a half years now. He’s my roommate in Paris. He was on his way south, while I was on the way back to Sweden via the Netherlands and Denmark. I think it was the first time I saw a man can be so sexy with his hairy chest! And after more than two years he finally came to Jakarta! It was so good to see him again although he had only a short stay. But the sexiest roommate was the one in Amsterdam. I had a naked man as a roommate hehehe…
So, that’s how I got to live here in this tiny but expensive rented room. Not because of the naked roommate in Amsterdam, but it was because of Shane. When I walked him back to the hostel, I saw a signboard at this place saying rooms to rent. I didn’t even have a job back then, I was staying far away for free with a friend. So here I am. I have a job now and I can afford this place. And I am looking at the hostel where Shane used to stay. Where those French backpackers are staying now. It’s all connected. It’s all action and reaction. And there is a purpose and time for everything. For everyone. And I observe it all.
