Our Cocoon in Jakarta

Following a trip to Lubuan Bajo and Bali, we left ourselves a day to check out the massive Indonesian capital city of Jakarta on our way back to the US.  The day started with an unexpected dose of excitement.  We hailed a cab to make the roughly 20 mile trip from the airport into the city center, expecting a long ride with almost continuous traffic based on Google Maps.  The driver, however, was not up for waiting in traffic.  He immediately stepped on the gas and aggressively pushed towards the front of the airport checkpoint line with only inches of clearance to other cars.  (For calibration, we’re no strangers to bad drivers living in Los Angeles, but this was a whole new level of crazy.)  And despite heavy downpour and a high risk of hydroplaning, he continued to speed up to 120 km/hour on the shoulder of a narrow bridge to bypass a line of stopped cars.  Brittany anxiously, but unsuccessfully, tried to pump her backseat brake pedal and thought “I don’t want to die in Jakarta,” while Nico felt an adrenaline rush akin to cruising down a ski hill (albeit less in control).

Alas, we arrived at the modern Kosenda Hotel downtown in record time.  Riding the elevator up to our room, a British couple asked if we had just checked in and laughingly informed us that the hotel would be our “cocoon” while in Jakarta.  Unsure of how to interpret this statement, we decided to go for a walk to explore the city.

A common theme in many of our travels is walking.  We walk a lot.  We think it’s one of the best ways to see a city and discover things that many others may miss.  For instance, other tourists to Jakarta might miss the random mannequin chest and head adorned in a Germany football (soccer) jersey on the side of the street, the authentic American Grill, or the alarming number of dead cats.  They might also miss interactions with some of the friendliest people that have a genuine interest in your visit to their country.  Shortly after beginning our walk to Indonesia’s National Monument, a curious family of 3 stopped on their moped so they could learn more about us by asking questions like: “Where are you from?”, “That’s a long way!”, “What are you doing here?”, and “Have you enjoyed it?”  Before continuing on their way, they said “be careful”, and for the second time that day, we found ourselves unsure of how to interpret a statement.

As we got closer to the monument, we started to notice people trying to sneak pictures of us.  When Nico thought we were in someone’s picture, he would start walking in another direction to see if their camera would follow – it always did.  We were the only Westerners in sight.  On the day we decided to visit, there was a large crowd at the monument all enjoying a live band.  And like the family of 3, each person that we passed either said hello or greeted us with a large smile.  Unfortunately the monument was closed by the time we arrived so we walked around the vendor stalls in the surrounding plaza.

During this time, the skies had started to darken and it begun to sprinkle.  We figured that we ought to start heading back to not get caught in the rain.  Only we were too late – it started to downpour, monsoon-style.  We jogged to the nearest shelter we could find, an empty guard shack, and hung out with a few other locals waiting for it to stop.

It didn’t trend towards easing up so we decided to make a run for it and hail a taxi, even though Brittany was less than pleased to get back in one after the first adventurous ride.  After we were safely back to our cocoon, we understood exactly what our British friends had meant.  When it was time for dinner, we decided on the hotel restaurant.