Taken for a ride

After we made our first acquaintance in the real world, Yudhie and I went in search of a taxi to ‘carry us’ home, to his apartment in Tangerang, which is a suburb of giant Jakarta. The Sukarno-Hatta airport where I arrived is, in fact, in Tangerang, but even that suburb is vast. Over eight million people live in Jakarta proper, but the total population of the metropolitan area is about eighteen million. When you see the traffic on the roads, you have no problem believing it. Yudhie took the lead as we waded side by side through a torrent of taxi drivers, each aiming to latch on to us.

Yudhie kept silently waving them away until he suddenly found the driver he wanted, told the man our destination, and negotiated the cost. I was puzzled, but trusting, and simply followed along. We hurried through the crowd out of the arrival zone and into a parking lot. There, the driver showed us his vehicle, a shiny, late-model SUV, and helped us load my bags into the back, and we got in. The taxi was hemmed in by other vehicles, but with careful maneuvering and the help of a parking attendant, the taxi broke free and into traffic. I asked Yudhie, ‘What was all that about?’ referring to his choice of taxis.

This is where I want to digress and tell you about the down side of Indonesia. Notice I am not now speaking of my homeland Yndonesia.

Before I started my trip, I spent a lot of time studying the country, using the internet and books like Lonely Planet guides. I also have a friend in Portland who is an American of my generation, who is married to a Balinese woman, Ibu Anna whom I will introduce later. My friend also tried to advise me, and some of his advice was valid, but at least for me, some of it wasn’t. The oddest thing Lawry told me was, ‘Going to Indonesia is like going on a very bad camping trip.’ Now that I’ve been there, I think I know what he means. If you’re expecting an Americanese tropical theme park, you’re in for trouble.

The infrastructure of Indonesia—the road system and certain public services—can be very poor in comparison to the United States, but that is really an unfair comparison. I thought I could rent a car and drive across Java to the ferry in Banyuwangi and thence to Bali. Lawry said, ‘Don’t even try it.’ He was quite right. The amount of time it would’ve taken and the expenses and risks involved could have spoiled our trip. We chose instead to fly to Bali, and that was the right choice. On the other hand, we did take trains, taxis, buses, angkots (mini-buses) and ojeks (motorcycle taxis) to go everywhere, and safely.

Inside a typical angkot (passengers removed)

As for the ‘very bad camping trip,’ I’m sure Lawry was referring to the fact that, except in public buildings and homes of the some of the middle class, Western toilets are unknown—in some villages, toilets are unknown, but there’s bushes for privacy—and the same goes for hot showers. If you don’t confine yourself to high end restaurants but eat at warungs (food stalls, some of them portable) or in villages, yes, you can eat bad food and get very, very sick. Then, too, there are insects that bite and can carry disease. Don’t drink tap water. Watch out for iced drinks. The list goes on and on.

My own personal warning about the country is this: Don’t think you can just rent a car at the airport and drive to your destination. You may be able to do this in Denpasar, Bali, the other international airport, but don’t try it in Jakarta unless you were born there and learned to drive there. An American, if he could even find a rental car, would probably crash it within his first five minutes of driving on the road leading out of the airport. There seems to be more motorcycles than cars, and they flow around car traffic in huge swarms, filling in the spaces between vehicles like water flowing around rocks in a stream.

What you do is, rent a car with a driver. It cost Yudhie and me only about 400,000 rupiah (about $45) to rent an air conditioned car with driver for the whole day of Christmas Eve, so we could attend the Orthodox services in Jakarta. You pay any toll road fees (always under a dollar), gasoline (for our day of use it was 11 liters for 50,000 rupiah, about $5½), and the driver’s lunch allowance, about 30,000 rupiah (about $3½). For the average Indonesian, this cost is exorbitant, but for any foreign visitor, it is a bargain, because it saves you from any number of risks—car trouble, accident, getting lost.

Ojeks (motorcycle taxis) for hire — generally safe

But back to the way Yudhie chose a taxi. Since our driver did not speak English, I asked Yudhie when we were on the way home, why he rejected the other drivers. Was it because they charged too much? His answer surprised me, but after I thought about it, it made sense. Many people posing as taxi drivers have dishonest motives. They will overcharge you, using a tricky meter, or they will take a very long route to the destination. Even worse, they might drive you to a rendezvous point where accomplices will rob you. Yes, there are such risks. How Yudhie knew who was legit, I still don’t know.

A typical warung (food stall, eatery) in Bali

I thought I should tackle some of the down side of Indonesia before I go on to describe the Yndonesia that I know at least a little because I lived there for three weeks. Three weeks, is that all? Yes, but even in three weeks you can get at least some idea of what a place is like. My stay there whetted my appetite for more and, God willing, I’m Yndonesia-bound. Next time, and each time, I want to get more of the people and the land under my skin. As for getting ‘taken for a ride’ I admit this is always a possibility wherever you go. My best advice is to go where you know people and live as they live, not as a tourist.

Next… At home in Taman Ayu