Trip 14 - Jakarta / Bali / Dubai 2009 - Story 04: Visa Application day

04-Visa Application
We take for granted how easy it is to travel wherever we want, whenever you want having a British passport. One of the reasons for travelling to Jakarta was to help Wimmy get her UK Visa, so she can go to London to do her internship. The level of information and personal information that an Indonesian needs to travel abroad is astonishing. For Indonesians to visit western countries they need:
1. Bank Statements to prove they can support themselves whilst abroad
2. A letter of sponsorship from a sponsor (eg. Me)
3. Copy of Passport from the sponsor
4. Bank statements of the sponsor
5. Copy of payslips for the sponsor
6. +interviews etc
That’s pretty hard work.
So rather than send the personal information via email, a day was spent doing the visa application. The busway takes us to the centre, where we both take mopeds through the mad traffic to the visa application centre. Riding along hundreds of other mopeds, ducking and diving between taxis and 4x4s dodging oblivious pedestrians, and hearing the whine of a little scooter motor, and the smell of car fumes, the moped ride itself was quite the experience.
Central Jakarta is a mecca of traffic, and bizarre mix of old world charm on the street and a city yearning to be modern aspiring to the bling bling riches of the west.
The visa application was relatively straight forward, I bought my paperwork, she brought hers, and we both smiled at the immigration officer. Next when all was submitted, she to have her biometric data encoded: finger prints and an Iris scan. Gosh the visa business has gone all high tech, with a payment of around 65GBP, the process seemed relatively smooth. Now it’s a case of sit and wait. “Hope for the best and plan for the worst” as Wimmy once said.
Getting a UK Visa though, means that she can only go to the UK, and not roam around Europe. For the whole of Europe Indonesians need to get a separate European visa. Count ourselves so free and lucky in the west!
We spend the rest of the evening having coffee and going to the Angels and Demons at the cinema afterwards. It was a pleasant “hanging out” and “getting to know each other” time, though I still wish we could have ridden that helter skelter slide down the middle of the skyscraper.
You can find food, anywhere in Jakarta: We walk to a car park somewhere near a main road, and find a few random mobile kitchens, with a few tables and stools. The food, though does look a bit dodgy, was pretty good, cheap and tasty. 50,000 rupiah got us a taxi back to the south, as at 10pm the busways close. A day spent of a little fun and adventure with Wimmy, happy memories and thoughts !-)

Trip 14 - Jakarta / Bali / Dubai 2009 - Story 03: Hanging around

03-Hanging around
I got to spend a day meeting some of Wimmy’s friends on the Sunday, and get a glimpse of how real day to day life is like in Jakarta. Wimmy’s best friend, Chita picks us up and we spend the day down the mall, doing something to with a tourism competition (which I later find out to be the Mr/Miss Jakarta Tourism ambassador competition – a local version of miss world with brains – the regional one, which Wimmy wins later). Not terribly exciting, but interesting to see that it really isn’t all third world shacks in Jakarta, and that shopping malls are huge, have all the latest stuff, and are guarded by armed security guards. I have to admit, that her friends were pretty attractive, with a certain look of almost Indian features mixed in a subtle blend of the orient complimented with quite warm fun smiles. The guys in comparison, to me at least, seemed p1ssed off and moody.
Hanging around with Chita, I got to meet her Aussie accented boyfriend, Kafir, whose mum in her early fifties looked pretty amazingly not more than mid 30’s. They are both Catholic and being a minority religion in Jakarta, the Christians have to go to one central church in the city centre to pray on Sunday evenings. Wimmy and I spend the evening having a nice long chat over noodle dinner in a make shift street restaurant. During dinner, annoying buskers float around playing awful badly accented love songs drowning your conversation until you can’t bear the aural pain no longer and pay them 1000 rupiah. Chita and friends joined us later. Good conversation, fun evening. I really got this real at ease feeling of fitting in and comfortably being myself there, amongst the crowd of Indonesians. Perhaps it’s the Asian side of me related to the good company. Pleasant to feel that.

Trip 14 - Jakarta / Bali / Dubai 2009 - Story 02: Jakarta City

In such a large city, it is the transport system that I found confusing. To get from A-B, you could use Mopeds, Tuk Tuks, Taxis, Local Minivans, Local Mini Buses and or the new and relatively modern Transjakarta Busway. All have a few things in common: They are cheap, crowded, and you will get stuck in traffic. Wimmy picks me sometime late in the afternoon from the bed and breakfast. On the way from the southern suburbs of Jakarta to the centre, we take one of the local mini vans to the bus way. That was quite the experience, as they are literally old estate like cars with 2 benches in the back, and a little door on the left hand side. It was quite funny to see how many locals you could fit into one of these: around 8 at the back, and 3 at the front. They seem to form the back bone of the cheap suburban transport, costing only 1500 rupiah (0.10 GBP) for the whole ride. Drivers tug away at these often dirty old minivans, picking up and dropping people off at random spots.

I guess that’s I like about what the west would call “less developed” countries. The pure randomness and freedom felt in chaos, a true sense of feeling lost, and not bound by strict orderliness. When you’re travelling, it’s exciting, because it’s different, and you don’t quite know what to expect next.

Jumping off the minivan, we scale the platforms and stairs leading to the Transjakarta busway system. Having been installed a few years ago, the busway forms the central transport hub of the city, connecting the north, south, east and west of the city together. Everywhere you in Jakarta, you see traffic, noise, pollution and lots of it. It does make you wonder how come the street food, despite being in such a “dirty” open environment still tastes so good.

Still dazed and confused from jet lag/oversleeping/being a totally foreign country, I was just a passenger for the day, as Miss Wimmy took me to an Indonesian food festival taking place in the city park. All sorts of delicious Indonesian food were there, fresh Satays from the char grilled bbqs. The smell of exotic spicy food wafted gently in the humid evening breeze, differing from tent to tent. It all looked delicious. We met up with Syiki, her younger sister and spent a few hours wondering around doing what playful types do best, being silly (…or was that just me?). “She’s a lovely angel and getting prettier every year, I will have to .... if she gets more pretty”…Wimmy says in her usual ‘Is she joking or does she really mean it’ voice. Fun, light and when I look back on, all the time in world.

A quick visit to the national monument enshrined with a few tons of pure gold in the city centre rounded the evening with the adjoining musical fountain show. The busway took us back south later in the evening, where I was a bit surprised, and nervous to meet their mother. After all our constant joking about being husband and wife, I did wonder what she expected when we met. She’s muslim and luckily was very pleasant, with her head covered in the dark shawl, it was quite the contrast to Wimmy and her sister, who were both very different and “westernized”. It was quite fascinating to see the interactions between mother and daughters. I often thought that Islam was a strict religion, and that the parents would often enforce the Islamic beliefs quite heavily on their children, but there was a certain accepting free flowing energy between them all, no doubt a sign of good healthy open relationships.

I did ask her “So did you teach Wimmy her funny sense of humour”…not sure how that went down…as she later remarked “He’s a bit young isn’t he?” - Funny how looks can be soo deceiving eh?

Trip 14 - Jakarta / Bali / Dubai 2009 - Story 01: Arrival in Jakarta

Thick grey clouds loom overhead. The rumble of thunder is somewhat dulled by thick humid air. The distant muffled sound of a man chanting or singing a foreign language signals the afternoon call to prayer.

Somewhere out there beyond the walls of where I am staying is the bustling metropolis of Jakarta, Indonesia. It is sometime in the afternoon on Saturday, and I am feeling somewhat confused from just waking up. Blame it on the jet lag, blame it on the journey that started on sometime on Tuesday evening.

What a journey it has been, perhaps the maddest so far. Driving from Jersey to Caen in France on Tuesday evening, and then to Rotterdam, Holland for an Interview on Wednesday afternoon, stuck in traffic in Belgium for 3 hours after, crossing the channel by ferry, arriving at Gatwick at 1am to drop off the luggage, then getting to the airport for 12pm on Thursday to catch the emirates flight to Dubai, arriving finally on Friday afternoon in Jakarta.

Long distance travel having kidney failure is proving quite the logistical challenge. Arriving at check-in with 3 bags of dialysis fluids is quite the experience. Never quite knowing whether the airline will let you on or not, but having that special letter from the hospital and showing them your dialysis catheter has so far worked. The supervisor at Emirates was both procedural and pleasant, with a compassionate smile she waved her magic hand then my excess luggage and I were cleared for flight…all 65kg of it.

It’s exciting to be flying again long distance. I am and always will be a traveler and explorer at heart. Over the past few months, I have lived in Holland, and have taken trips to Belgium, Germany, France, Italy, Switzerland and Croatia. It’s been a practical but tiring way to travel by car. But nothing, to me, quite beats the excitement of boarding a big plane on an Intercontinental flight.

Of all the places in the world, why Jakarta? Well, to be honest, to visit Wimmy, a remarkable young lady friend who I met earlier in the year whilst living in Holland…and to take the

opportunity to travel a little with that nice redundancy pay out. From the first moment we met, there was really quite a special feeling of oneness and connectedness between us, which we both felt. I didn’t know what it meant, but I believe that such soul connections are special and should be honored and explored. Whilst fate brought us together, our choices and leave us to make the most of the moments we spend together, no matter how short or long.

Arriving in Jakarta turned out to be quite the drama. Having forgotten to inform the bank about my travels, my credit cards refused to work upon arrival, leaving me a bit stuck to pay the 25 USD for the entry Visa. Luck had it, that the immigration guy was fairly helpful, if not a little corrupt. Corruption and back hand pay outs are the norm in this part of the world, as I learn a bit later. Luckily I was able to contact Wimmy who paid for the entry visa, promptly to be grilled by customs who were quite inquisitive about the amount of medical bags I had with me. A friendly smile, the special letter and showing them the dialysis catheter saved the day, and soon after I was out to arrivals.

Who’s that in the glasses waving at me? Ah, that broad sweet smile and happy chuckle of happiness…Wimmy. Words could not quite describe the feeling I felt to see her again, and the happy moment was mutual.

“Hey! How are you?”
“Good, so happy to see you again!”

Driving into the Jakarta rush hour, we head from the airport in the north, down south, across the city, giving us the time to chat and catch up after months of short emails, chats, calls and a lot of easy anticipation. The toll based freeways of the north give way to the tall commercial buildings of central Jakarta, and the infamous city rush hour. What madness - it makes London or Dutch traffic look like a casual cruise along the motorway; drivers cutting you up left right and centre, dodging mopeds, tok toks and pedestrians by inches, but somehow the traffic moves.

Wimmy carmly chatting away, and me, bemused and confused…I thought I came here to relax and for a holiday??? Why on earth did I come here? Surely a beach on Thailand would have been a tad less frantic !?

The light fades over the tall buildings in the west, with the faintest of orange glows, the suns blocked by thick grey polluted air. The commotion, the sound of impatient drivers hooting their horns, screaming mopeds everywhere, brightly painted tok toks mixed in with that unique murky humid smell of Asian street food combine together to paint a vibe of this sleepless city.

The traffic, never eases, as we head onto the flatter more rural areas of the south suburbs. Modern concrete buildings giving way to basic shack like buildings, typical of the small rural stores often seen in south east asia with bumpy roads and lots of palm trees. We arrive finally, after a couple of hours to the Cilandak suburb and stop for some street food dinner. This is what I love most of about being in a Asian city: those rag tag mobile kitchens joined together with sheets, tables and plastic stools selling all sorts of deliciously smelling food: spicy, sizzling satay on sticks, fragrant tasty Nasi Goreng, and many regional curries to wet the taste buds of your tongue with delight and spice. The atmosphere, the food, the chaos, the night life is a world away from the quaintness and quietness of Jersey…

Anticipation frenzies the mind before we meet friends we look forward to seeing, whilst the energy of the moment in meeting steadies us in joy and delight, that words rarely make the mark compared to the feeling of companionship. How is she really like? Pictures show a pretty girl with a warm smile, her warmness and openness reflected in her presence: full of life, lightness and young playfulness that makes her an absolute delight to be around. Funny, very cheeky, intelligent and smart with a certain drive, spirit and emotional intelligence…we share quite the same energy.

Checking into the traditionally ornate Jakarta Bed and Breakfast in the same suburb, we chat to the early hours of the morning about everything and nothing, bringing to heart the warmness of each others’ company, with time on our side, nothing seemed a rush…