Indonesia

Three short stories of my experience in Indonesia.  All of these stories took place in the national capital of Jakarta.  I did spend a time on the island of Bali put due to a visa fiasco, I was forced to spend 6 days in Jakarta and not on Bali where I would have liked.  While leaving Australia I thought the trip was going too easy and wanted to break away from western cultures and get a real culture shock.  Well be careful what you wish for.  Here goes.

Upon arrival I got a hyped up cabbie to take me from the airport to my hotel.  Yes hotel not hostel.  I can get my own hotel room with TV, own shower, own toilet and Wi-Fi for the equivalent of $17 a night.  So I treated myself in that regard.  The airport is about 20 to 30 minute drive from the city where I was staying.  The drive takes you through what I consider the poorest scariest neighborhood I have ever seen.  Starved dogs wander aimlessly while kids with no clothes run in puddles that one can only assume is a mix between water, sewage, and trash.  The houses or shacks are aligned right on the edge of the highway and people are literally living on top of one another.  I manage to look inside and open door and see about 10 to 12 people laying in a room that is about the size of an average American bathroom.  I begin to see an astonishing number of people and even children that are missing limbs or blind or maimed in some way or another.
"Why are they all missing legs and arms and eyes?" I ask my cabbie.
He answers in very broken English that took me three or four times of him repeating it for me to understand him.  "They chop or blind dem so when dey ask for the money, they get more."
So they maim themselves in order to get more money in this country.
Wouldn't you know it but there is a traffic jam and we are forced to stop here.  Whilst no harm comes to us another thing I didn't expect to happen did.  Faintly I become aware that the radio is on a local station playing some local Indonesian song.  After what I am to assume is some advertisements, I begin to hear a tune I recognize.  The cabbie immediately turns the volume up loud.
I threw a wish in a well
Don't ask me I'll never tell 
You have got to be kidding me
I looked to you as I fell
And now your in my way
Then my cabbie starts belting every single word.
Are you kidding me?!?!?!  I am 12,000 miles away from home staring out my window at hoards of people missing limbs or blinded, dogs starving in the street, and yet I still can not escape the life suck that is Call Me Maybe!!!!  Not only that but my cabbie barely knows English yet he know every damn word to this song and sings it in perfect English.  This is insane and one of the strangest and most irritating experiences I have ever had.

As I arrive at my hotel I see that I'm in a decent part of the city that could be described as the business district.  I check in, drop my bags off and all is fine.  I go down to my English speaking concierge and ask him where to find a supermarket near by.  He points me in the right direction and I begin.  One block away from the hotel it all turns to shit.  I am now in one of those neighborhoods I described above.  I can see the supermarket a little bit ahead so decide to push on.
Now me being a six foot white guy with red hair and a red beard I stand out like a sore thumb in this country.  The beggars pick up on the fact that I'm American or indeed from a country much more wealthy than my own.  I stand head and shoulders above everybody and seem to be much stronger.  I begin to walk down the street and the maimed people start yelling at me.  Some start screaming and getting very close to me.  The first one reaches out and I shrug the hand of my shoulder.
No eye contact.
Walk with a purpose
Don't stop
This is what I repeat over and over in my head.  Again more and more people start reaching for me.  They begin to pull on my clothes.  I solider on and don't make a ruckus.  Finally a man missing his leg stands in front of me on crutches.  As I begin to walk around him he moves in front of me.  Screaming at me I see he has only three teeth of which they are yellow and decaying.  resting on his crutches he puts both his hands on my chest.
I snapped
"NO!" I scream and literally pick the man up under his arms and toss him onto the curb.  He falls to the concrete with a thud and a yelp and begins the scramble for his crutches.  I stand there and stare at him.  The crowd has now given me a wide berth and all are staring at me.  I turn with no other words spoken and get to the supermarket.  I get what I need and whilst reaching for my wallet I feel that my 3.5in knife is in my pocket.  I put it in my hand and start the walk back.  But this time there is no crowd.  There are still screams but no one touches me.  In fact they all part for me like I'm Moses and they are my Red Sea.
Fantastic, I think, they are all terrified of me.  Well whoopdy-do the American comes in, beats up a cripple and terrifies the locals.  Brilliant.
I walk back in shame.

I spent the rest of my days in Jakarta holed up in my hotel room to scared to leave.  I only left to go to the supermarket where every time I walked knife in hand, and every time the left me alone.  On the last day I needed to go to a travel agent about a 15min walk away.  I tell myself to sack up and make the trip.  Knife in my pocket.  As it turns out the travel agent was in a mall.  I walk there with out an issue and do what I needed to.  Upon exiting the mall I am swarmed by little children holding their hands out.  I push through and look over them.  I have no money to give them, plus I give one of them money then I will be crushed by people wanting more.  As I finally push past the crowd.  I walk about half a block further and see a little boy with one eye standing against a tree.  He has no shoes or shirt and the hole where his eye was looks like it wasn't doing so good.  I hear a bunch of change jingling in my pocket.  As I approach he gives small glance up at me and puts his hand out.  I unload a huge handful of change on him but look right in his eyes.  I close his hand around the change and put my fingers to my lips.
"Shhhh"
He takes a step back from me and stands up real tall.  He looks me dead in the eyes and what does this little boy do?  He salutes me.
I'm stunned for a second then return the salute.  He smiles and lets out a small giggle.  He takes off running.  I see him go up to and extremely elderly woman and giver her all the change.  She says something to him and he puts his fingers to his lips.
"Shhhh"
She smiles and hugs the boy.  I turn and walk back.  For as much damage as I did I tried to redeem myself.  America's reach is incredibly far, so far that a poor beggar boy knows what and when to use an American style salute.  A sign of respect.


Now as far as pictures go, I have none.  I was too scared to take my camera through the neighborhood and indeed out of the hotel room at all.  Hopefully these stories suffice and I will resume my normal picture taking in Singapore.

A quick shout out to everyone who reads this.  It means a lot to me that you all care so much.  I will break 2000 page views with this post and I know that doesn't seem like a lot but it means the world to me.  I miss my friends and family.  I miss the snow and the cold as well.  Thank you again and I'll see you in Singapore!