June 3, 2005

“One Thing I never could stand about Santa Carla….. All the damn Vampires…”

The Week winds down and Friday night in Jakarta looms - "never will you find a more wretched hive of scum an villainy".....

I may indeed be living in a huge city offering every vice you can think of, but Jakarta still has yet to entice me into its lair and trap me within its coils - were I 22 again, as I was in Malawi, then this would be perhaps a different situation and I would be a regular hung-over panda-eyed grinning collection of sins each morning - but times have changed and moderation is the key (young skywalker) - plus priorities at the moment along the lines of taking a time out from such activities and getting myself straight mean I am not a regular fixture at the bars of Blok M or at the pool table of exapt hangout Bugils.

Let me give you an overview of the monster - basically Jakarta is a mahoofing great city of around 12-13million people that has simply grown at too great a rate to sustain itself - all the cracks in the dam are too numerous and irreparable so a slew of sewage, corruption, congestion and confusion envelops the place, baked at a constant level of humidity and cast over by an all year round foggy haze of pollution.

The main roads are seemingly in a permanent state of unexplainable grid lock and to escape, many commuters think they know the shortest of secret short cuts through what are known as “kampungs” which are the “warung” filled warrens were the majority of Jakartans live – small winding pathways, populated by mini houses and warung restaurants crammed in to what ever space is available – however, what usually happens when attempting this devious plan is that you just get stuck (and lost) in a maze of even greater frustrating confusion than that which you have just escaped from.

There are numerous high rise apartments that tower over all this nonsense (one of which I live in) that while elevated away from the noisy din of traffic and chaos do not provide much comfort if and when an earthquake should strike – mainly due to the fact that so much goes wrong in this country, so many corners are cut with so many pockets lined, you don’t hold out much hope of these gigantic buildings staying on their feet what ever anyone tells you. It’s also worthy to note that the answer to the majority of questions asked in this country is “yes” even when really it should be “no” or “no idea mate, not my job” or “you are strange foreign man and I have no idea what you are saying right now, but maybe if I say yes you will be happy and go away” – therefore you can imagine asking staff “is this building earthquake proof” is not going to get you any further to the truth - there is nothing to be gained from telling you it might fall down at the brush of a whisker other than you deciding not to pay rent and live there.

The reason to mention earthquakes is not only the terrible events that took place across the waters in Aceh on the island of Sumatra, (Jakarta is in the North west of Java) but because Indonesia as a whole is a collection of large and small islands stretched across the ring of fire – which is basically a cluster of hundreds of volcanoes bubbling away, waiting for a tectonic shift or fault line rumble to kick them off into what they do best – fuck everything within molten lava flinging distance the fuck up, while shaking the earth around with more might than an epileptic Dinosaurs amphetamine Gabba techno convention. There’s an image.

I’ve been here since January and so far have been in two earthquakes – the first was while I was in a place called Bandung – sort of south west of the capital – no, wait a minute - never eat shredded wheat – yes actually, south west – so anyways, the earthquake was a 5.9 on the good ol’richter scale which translates as shaking houses, people reasonably getting their freak on, water in your glass doing a Jurassic park thing, cats looking confused – I however failed to notice the whole shebang as I was on a very bumpy road in a very old car with crappy suspension at the time. Sure there was noise and shit loads of people on the street, but then again there’s always noise and shit loads of people on the street, so the whole thing passed me by.

The second earthquake occurred while I was 14 floors up in my apartment watching Amityville horror after drinking a bottle of red wine around 10.30pm – so again at first I didn’t notice and when I did thought it might have been ghosts – not that I get freaked out by shitty B-grade horrors but your mind does wander after downing a bottle of penfolds in a fairly short amount of time – at first the picture behind me was tapping away and then the focus in the window was a bit blurry and when the tapping got louder I felt the walls vibrate and gleefully told people via text that I was in an earthquake – something that confused the hell out of most recipients as I missed the “a” out and the predictive text spelt “drugstake” instead – one of my friends rang me and I explained the walls were vibrating and that it was all terribly exciting as perhaps it might get stronger and really kick off at which point he alerted me to my 14th floor station and general blissful ignorance of possible impending doom – we discussed options and I decided that in the event of an actual proper earthquake and not a mild tremor as this was, I would run up to the top floor as the building crumbled and when the ground was close enough - I’d jump off to safety.

I also explained this is what I would do in the event of air crashes and my friend valiantly tried to explain the relationship between speed, time and weight to my red wine befuddled mind while in the background the tremor murmered to a halt. I was left contemplating what my next plan would be if I was ever in a high rise earthquake or aircraft tumbling situation - any suggestions welcome.

And apparently if there is a nuclear explosion ducking your head under the sea until it’s finished won’t help either. (yes, it is a wonder I've lasted this long on the planet isn't it? common sense not that common etc)

So yes, there are earthquakes occasionally but not big ones as we aren’t on any cracks in the earth – and yes there are volcanoes but none near enough or really active enough to really give cause for concern. And there are bombs too - big ones but none since the Oz embassy here in Jakarta - or was it the Marriot hotel? - but the occasional terror alert aside (which I only ever find was issued after the event anyways) I haven't seen or heard of much in the way of trouble - but then again I suppose it's not as if they advertise..

I think it is relevant to mention at this point that before this I used to live in Hanoi – a place whose many virtues I will extol in another future ramble – and Hanoi had that elegant blend of a lot of East meeting a little bit of west, yet still retaining it’s individuality and culture as it starts to liberalise years of communist rule – Jakarta on the other hand, seems to have invited all the worst parts of capitalist commercialism with open arms and then tried to operate the whole mechanism with stumpy retarded bureaucratical toad human cross breeds – sort of like teaching a child to swim and do algebra at the same time by tossing it overboard at high seas with a crayon and note pad while screaming numbers at it.

Basically Jakarta doesn’t work – and there is no easy answer to making it work - short of flushing the chain and starting all over again.

I think that perhaps the main reason as to why it is not a great place to live is that unlike other cities of the world I love like London, Edinburgh. Amsterdam, Bangkok, Hong Kong, Saigon, Hanoi, Toronto & Moscow – there is no centre, no heart, no hub – and getting around the place takes the will power and patience of 100 folk who also have the strength and power of 100 folk to begin with. Whatever that number is.

Jakarta does indeed have a smattering of worthy drinking holes (although they are mostly filled with hookers, the rich elites kids with too many mobile phones and fat old men who work in the oil industry) and some excellent restaurants, but the problem with these places is that they are all too far apart from one another and getting between them can mean dedicating far too much of your life to sitting in traffic – there are no pavements here – there is no subway – no monorail – no taxi lane – no quick escape – there is just bumper to bumper horn screeching whistle blowing matchok mayhem (traffic jam). Skilifts and elevated escalotors must be the only way forward surely?

The other thing about Jakarta is shopping centres – you can’t walk around and you need everything in one place so they build these Mahoosive great Mecca’s with everything you could possibly want under one roof (well if everything you could possibly want is what every western shopping centre in the world already has – no personality or individuality, crammed full of people and farily dispiriting). Getting in to these places is again a difficulty due to traffic jams and folk driving not really supposed to be behind the wheel as they just bought their license instead of actually earning it.

Bad driving gives rise to indulgence in some of the most abrasive and unorthodox road maneuvers you will ever carry out in your life – anything goes and if you can drive here you can drive anywhere – apart from Karachi which is marginally worse due to the addition of livestock Cairo are supposed to be pretty bad as well– I fear for when I return to civilized road etiquette following societies as I shall just be tearing up the place – blasting my horn – driving the wrong way – undertaking and cutting up – parking where ever I feel like it – you see here you definitely cannot beat them – you most certainly have to join them – it is war on dem der streets.

So Jakarta then – corrupt, polluted, humid, congested, chaotic and bulging at the seams – a thriving mass of poverty and unabashed financial exuberance with no middle ground – all stuck in traffic trying to get to the next overhyped shopping mall selling the same commercial crap they’ve got everywhere else in the world. And in the middle of it all a dirty grubby little man with a brain the size of a pebble directing traffic in the corner of a kampung - from wherein all the chaos multiplies in circles until the city cannot move.

Is it any wonder I prefer to sit here and tell you about it rather than actually try and get trapped in it’s daily grind?

Spo | June 3, 2005

Spo
Location:Gecko Lounge, Cape Maclear, Malawi.

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