Getting home, magic house and the next Jack

June 16, 2005

I got home late yesterday and found magic apartment was all set up for loafing - I live just up the road from the office and if you get the right time of the day and the right break for a short cut, it takes 10 mins to get back – although some days it can take 45mins - and there is never a reason for the mayhem - it's just Jakarta.

One thing is for sure you can't drive like a normal person - on the toll road a guy undertook me yesterday at 90km or so on the hard shoulder while I was indicating to turn left off at the next upcoming exit - I had seen him coming as I've gotten used to checking for these things, but I doubt the average Jakartan is as wily. This is not to say I am a good driver in any way - it's just that I have good survival instincts if a little clumsy - as far as driving goes I don't think I've ever parked properly in 10 years and there are some people who will simply not get in the car with me - of course in Jakarta I fit right in.

Motorbikes are the worst as any doofus can get hold of one - you see kids of like 12 or so driving around the kampung areas (narrow warren like housing estates crammed into what ever space is available) - most of the cars on the road are hoofing great Toyota Kejan things and whilst driving the bikes buzz round you like flies on a wildebeest - there is usually so much going on with other cars, satanic bus drivers and numerous other random hazards that you don't pay attention to the bikes - they just have to look after themselves and hope they don't get in your way. I’ve seen some nasty accidents since getting here, but they don’t happen with the regularity they used to in Hanoi. In Nam every single person has a bike (with no helmet) due to cheap china imports and the introduction of credit 3-4 years ago - also no one really has a license and more or less teach themselves.

They all have a sort of fucked up sixth sense to tell were everyone is on the road and beep their horns all the time to help tell other riders when they change lanes. The government decided that it should be illegal to ride without a helmet and didn't give much in the way of notice - everyone rushed out to buy one and then accidents went up because no-one could really hear the horns anymore (they sound like road runner) - the government abolished it and everyone went back to wearing caps.

What usually happens in Jakarta gridlock is that you have a steady congested stream of bikes weaving their way down the side of the stagnant traffic - they use what ever space is available including the pavements – and when the average bear wants to get in or out, instead of indicating and winding down the window waving your hand left and slowly edging out bit by bit, you just pull out at a steady pace with no stopping and expect bikes to deal with it - it's not like either of you are traveling at any kind of speed, so you won’t send any of them over the bonnet – they just stream round you or bump into the tires – and nobody ever complains – just the way it is - as to do otherwise will mean sitting there hoping for a break that never comes - your sanity will slowly dissipate into the multicolored hazy evening fog of pollution that settles above this groaning mass of convoluted chaos known as Jakarta.

Once back in the den of loaf overlooking the city, I arrive to find the place cleaned, clothes washed and ironed, shopping done and dinner cooked – it is a magic apartment – or so it would seem – there is a little old woman called Neh-neh who appears after I leave for work and goes before I return – she doesn’t speak much English and I don’t speak much Bahasa but the times we do bump into each other we manage to communicate through a variety of grins, hand movements and head nodding. She says “this one here apa ini here this one so this one juga bisa this one” a lot and I generally nod and agree and then see what happens and determine if it should continue.

My Liverpool shirt blew over the balcony once and I couldn’t figure out were on earth it’d got to – I know those shirts are popular over here (real ones) but I still didn’t think she stole it as despite not understanding what she says, I can tell she is an inherently decent individual – I figured I had left it at Robin’s or at the gym. She worried about it all week though as she thought I thought she'd stolen it, you see. So after some extensive Miss Marple style investigative jiggery-pokery she eventually found it had blown down onto someone else’s balcony on a lower floor and she went and retrieved it. I'm on floor 14 so that's a fair bit of trial and error - top work you wee gobbldigook talking bundle of genius – she’s fantastic – she cooks spaghetti Bolognese every other day unless you tell her not to, hides things were I can’t find them like the remote and I think she wears my socks but her job is always safe as long as I am here.

I loafed out in the lazy boy (bought with the winnings from betting on Liverpool winning the champions league – which they did on penalties s after being 3-0 down and getting it back to 3-3 in the greatest final I’ve ever seen – I thought I’d only put a tenner at 11-1 on back in March and then later on checked the website and found I’d actually put 25 – grinning like the Cheshire Cat on coke I was) and flicked on the TV Cinemax was half way through one of the harshest war movies I’ve ever seen – "When trumpets fade" is a bit of a buffty title, but the film itself really makes you appreciate how lucky you are that you will never (hopefully) have to experience anything like trench warfare – it just seemed that it didn’t matter how much training people had or what precautions they took, they had just as much chance of being blown to smithereens as anyone else – strong stuff - like the beginning of saving private Ryan but much longer and more punishing.

Good actors too, notably Martin Donovan, Ron Eldard & Timothy Olyphant – who I think is gonna be a big star after watching HBO’s Deadwood – you’ll know him when you see him – he’s the cool but a bit evil dealer guy from “The girl next door” and “Go” – got a Jack Nicholson thing going on, mark my words.

Spo | June 16, 2005