Journey to Indonesia

From a geographic perspective, my 10 day journey to Indonesia was the best ever. Not only did I first cross the equator, I skirted the Arctic Circle on the return flight.

The first leg of the trip gave me my first glimpse of lakes Huron and Superior and Western Canada. Following the route from Winnipeg to north of Edmonton, I could still see signs of civilization (roads and rectangular fields) as far as the Rockies in British Columbia. The view remained mountainous as the jet passed what I believe was Cook Inlet, which leads to Anchorage.

Landing in Tokyo I was greeted by a text from T-Mobile that data and text roaming was free, and talk was 20 cents a minute. Who needs airport WiFi I thought as I made a test call to my mother in San Diego.

A flight delay gave me ample time at Narita Airport to check my pronunciation of Indonesian with Hardi, who was returning after two years with Chevron. He must have done well before the oil bust as he visited all 50 state capitol and was flying business.

ANA (All Nippon Airlines) had far greater legroom in coach than United, so I was less jealous of my new friend in business. In fact, United's legroom was so tight that even after the people sitting next to me got up, it was hard to get to the aisle. Imagine what a non-skinny person must go through.

Steve, my friend in Jakarta, promised an immigration expediter to meet me at the gate. Alas no sign with my name. Again glad for the cell phone roaming benefits so I could arrange to meet Steve in front of the A&W restaurant, pronounced "Ah Way." Then into the car with his driver at the wheel (on the right side) and home to South Jakarta in a district of embassies and other upscale, walled-off properties.

Upon waking early I took a dip in the pool and a tour of the neighborhood, where relentless, high-rise construction meets slums and high-class restaurants on Senopati St. Actually the slums were the most appealing with the smells of the warungs (food shacks). Only fear of getting the runs on the first day kept me from sampling the goods.

Now back to the airport for our trip to Bali, located off the eastern end of Java island. Java is the population center for a country of 250,000,000. From my window seat I saw much of the land filled with red globs, indicating the tightly packed dwellings which formed a village. But there was still more green than red, including several volcanoes.

In Bali we stayed at the luxurious Oberoi, an expansive beach-front resort. The beach itself was on the Indian Ocean. Getting wet with my third ocean was another geographic accomplishment.

The horrible holiday weekend traffic counterbalanced the tranquility of the resort, but it was worth the trouble to get to an area north of Ubud for a day of home cooked meals, a trip to a coffee plantation and a bike ride. Half the fun was sharing the tour with three generations of the McCloskey family from Brisbane.

The plantation had more than coffee trees. There was durian fruit, mango, cocoa and something called mangosteen. Past where a woman was grinding beans the old fashioned way were the tasting tables where everyone enjoyed drinking from 12 cups placed on a card identifying the teas and coffees.

The bike was mostly downhill so even Steve, I and grandmum McCloskey, all 60-something, could keep up with parents Dion, Suzanne and their girls Lilly, Georgia and Jade. We stopped at a family compound with several dwellings, a meeting space, and their temple. Now I understood why everywhere in Bali I saw clusters of tiny thatched-roof temples behind brick walls. We also saw rice fields in various stages of growth and learned that paddies are flooded to kill weeds.

The next day Steve and I returned on our own to Ubud to see the monkey forest in the center of town. We spent far more time in traffic but it was wonderful seeing the free-ranging macaques, including babies clutching their mothers to be breast-fed.

The second half of my visit was back in Jakarta where I got to meet Ruri, who I previously met online. Ruri is just 28 but has traveled to much of Europe and was starting a temporary job with the Swedish embassy.

On Sunday the three of us went to the Dutch colonial district ("Kota") to tour the old government house and a shadow puppet museum. At the museum, a man latched on to us to show us around and hustle us to his workshop, where he gave us a private shadow puppet show. And wasn't I nice enough to buy a puppet afterwards. Then we dined at the stately Cafe Batavia, the Dutch name for Jakarta. After a walk past a long dock of old fishing boats we were ready to get back to the air conditioned house.

That night I went on my own to explore the 6-story Pacific Place mall, with its huge variety of restaurants and anchored by Galleries Lafayette. To get there, Steve’s guard gave me a lift on his motorbike. Ruri goes everywhere by motorbike taxi, but for me, one time hanging on for dear life was sufficient. I walked home.

Monday I discovered a way to get around that was both cheap and fast. The TransJakarta "bus rapid transit" system has its own lane and a subway like turnstile and elevated platform. It will do until construction of the real subway line is completed.

The park around the nation monument was closed. While I could see the obelisk-shaped monument clearly from the gate, this forced me to walk around the kilometer-square park to get to the great Istiqlal Mosque, the largest in Southeast Asia. The other challenge getting there was the five lane road with no crosswalks. A generous old man led me across by walking into traffic with his hand stretched out to make sure we were noticed. That's actually how they cross streets in Jakarta.

The same generous man offered a free tour of the mosque for a donation.  He did well, but stupid me forgot to ask the price of the donation, which turned out to be 50 percent more than I'd prefer. In retrospect he was a greedy, lying SOB.

The last day was a trip by train with Ruri to the nearby city of Bogor, famous for its botanical garden that features an orchid gallery. We also went through the free Ethnobotany Museum, an extensive collection of plants, spices and crafts from around the country.

Bogor is also known for its ubiquitous green minibuses (angkots) that more resemble covered pickup trucks. And, unlike Jakarta, vehicles don't stop if you walk into traffic. Going to Bogor with Ruri probably saved my life.

The flight home made it clear that ANA is superior to United. In lieu of window shutter, I could electronically select a tint level. And, unlike on United, I did not have to struggle with a touch-screen that either ignored or misinterpreted my touch.

But the flight home from Tokyo was a thrill as it went over Fairbanks, mountainous Yukon and the charcoal-colored tundra of the Northwest Territory. Above 60 degrees latitude on May 11, it is still winter, albeit a very sunny winter.