Jakarta

Sometimes when I show up in a place with no plans I end up having the most interesting unexpected experiences. Jakarta is definitely the dirty, overcrowded city that everyone promised, but I had a serendipitous adventure there.

On my first night in town, I made a friend at a restaurant near my hostel. Ridwan was eating dinner with his wife and some friends, but he never misses a chance to jump up and say hi to a western stranger. He was hoping I spoke German (he lived in Switzerland for a few years but hadn't practiced his German much since then) but was equally happy to talk to an American, especially when he found out I play guitar.

Ridwan has an Arabic first name and a Hindu middle name. His father was a Buddhist monk until he met Ridwan's mother and converted to Catholicism in order to marry her. Ridwan grew up Catholic but met a Pentecostal missionary when he was young and became an Evangelical Christian. It was fascinating to talk to a Christian with such a broad knowledge of other faiths.

After a long career working with a major Indonesian restaurant group, Ridwan lived in Southern California for a while researching restaurant franchises. He was very far along into a deal with Jack in the Box when the Indonesian Rupiah lost value against the dollar and the franchise agreement was no longer profitable. Eventually he found a suitable franchise (Cham Cham Chicken, a Korean chain) and opened five or six locations in Jakarta.

We ended up having such a great conversation that his wife and friends finished their meal without him, waited patiently for a while, then came over to shyly ask us to wrap it up so they could go home. We exchanged contact information and made plans to meet up for lunch the next day.

The next morning I walked through Chinatown, which was very close to my hostel. I bought a variety of street food, then headed back to my hostel to eat it. It got me excited for Singapore where I anticipated getting some even higher quality Chinese food.

Later, I headed up to a historic Dutch neighborhood where most of the museums and attractions are located. It was Christmas Eve and everything was closed, but there were mobs of uniformed students out in the central courtyard. As they had in Yogyakarta, they stopped me and asked to complete an interview, but instead of small groups of five or six smiling kids, this was a mob. They had none of the politeness or charisma of the smaller groups. They didn't cooperate with each other despite that they all wanted the same thing. Instead, as I stood in the same place answering questions, a new group of kids would interrupt and ask if they could interview me. I used the translation app to ask them if they could take turns answering questions and all listen to my answers, but they didn't get it. They behaved like paparazzi, calling out the same questions and ignoring one another.

I couldn't explore in peace, so I made my way back to the hostel. Jakarta isn't a scenic or beautiful place, but there were some interesting sights like this building covered in plants or this canal.

I walked past a scooter driver who asked if he had seen me at the Packer Lodge. I told him that's where I was staying so he probably had seen me. He introduced himself as Buyung and offered to take me on a scooter tour of Jakarta. I accepted because his price was reasonable and it seemed like the best way to see the city without being constantly hassled.

The Harbor Adventure

I had expressed interest in seeing the beach, so we drove to the harbor first. It was definitely a commercial harbor. No sandy beaches or seafood restaurants. Just a lot of boats hauling stuff.

There were lots of fishing boats so I asked whether there was a fish market nearby. There isn't. The fishing boats are all being used as cargo boats for items "domestic shipping"—a concept that only makes sense when you consider that Indonesia is a nation of many islands.

A man on the harbor called out to Buyung who translated the proposition. He had a boat and was willing to take me on a half hour tour of the harbor for the equivalent of two dollars. I agreed, but as I walked off with him I suddenly became very aware that this would be a terrific kidnapping plot. This wasn't a chartered tour, this was a guy who could hold me hostage on his boat. I laughed off the idea when I saw the tiny wooden boat we were to ride around in.

The boat driver didn't speak any English, but he talked constantly. There were lots of things he wanted to direct my attention to, and I think I understood a lot of it. For instance, the boats were pumping water out, and I guessed that they were ballasting in order to receive a heavy load. This turned out to probably be correct. We boarded a boat that was receiving bags of something.

My small boat driver led me to the bridge to meet the captain of the big boat. The big boat captain gestured to the wheel and suggested that I take a photo there. Throughout my time in Asia I've received a lot of suggestions like this. Western tourists must be perceived a bit like children. The things that would make us happy are probably the same things that would make a small child happy. I didn't really want a picture of myself steering a fishing boat, but now I have one.

Having avoided being kidnapped, I reunited with Buyung and continued our tour. The next stop was the National Monument.

Meh.

Istiqlal Mosque

After that we toured the Istiqlal Mosque, which I was told was the largest mosque in Asia, but that's only true depending on how you define Asia. If Pakistan is part of Asia, it's not even close to the largest. Still, it accommodates 200,000 people and it's a beautiful place. I was honored to be allowed in. Many Muslim countries don't allow tourists.

The Istiqlal Mosque was built in the mid 20th century to commemorate Indonesia's independence from the Dutch. The word Istiqlal is Arabic for "independence."

Across the street from the mosque is the much smaller and much less significant Katedral Jakarta. The Roman Catholic Church was actually banned in the Dutch East Indies until Napoleon installed his younger brother as the King of Holland in the early 19th century and the Dutch started to soften on their anti-Catholicism.

Christmas Eve with Ridwan

It was late in the afternoon when I met up with Ridwan at his West Jakarta restaurant. He had brought his guitar with him, so we jammed for a little while before I ate. Ridwan is a pretty talented guitarist and I felt very out of practice.

When discussing my path to spiritual seeking, I told my story of getting sober in Alcoholics Anonymous. Ridwan had never heard of AA, but he was intrigued by the idea that addiction is only a symptom of a deeper spiritual illness. I explained the Twelve Steps as a path to spiritual recovery and we had the longest and most in-depth conversation about the Twelve Steps that I've ever had with a non-alcoholic.

Ridwan invited me to join him for a Christmas Eve church service the next morning, and I couldn't think of a more appropriate way to spend Christmas. I was blown away by how familiar everything felt. It's exactly the same experience as any contemporary Christian church in the US. There's a CCM band, a plexiglass pulpit, an impressive projector system that changes the background behind the pastor or the choir, and a video crew walking around and following all of the action. Ridwan translated bits and pieces of the sermon, but the subtext needed no translation.

The pastor started out animated and silly. The congregation laughed along easily as he told his story. But as the congregation soaked in the story, there was an almost imperceptible shift in the pastor's tone. The pastor became noticeably agitated as he acted out feelings of dread and fear and anguish and described trials so endless and seemingly hopeless that the he flared his nose and clenched his jaw and shook his fist up at the sky begging and pleading and demanding that someone appear to account for a world with so much pain!

And he paused.

With a far away tone he spoke softly. And slowly. And with each little sentence, more confidently.

And let us pray.

Next stop: Christmas Day in Singapore.