Jakarta 2.0

I spent the past weekend down in Jakarta again, and, like last time, the backbone of this trip was business. However, because the meeting I was flying in for was scheduled for a Friday afternoon, it seemed like a no brainer to stick around for an extra night on my own dime, to see a few more of the sights of this Southeast Asian megalopolis. Thus, after only three nights back home after my Chinese New Year vacation, I was on another plane heading out of Hong Kong.

That flight was a very memorable one indeed, with a great view from my window seat. Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto provided the music, and it was like I created my own homemade version of Fantastia, as the sun set and the clouds and sky began turning colors. (A few Gin and Tonics only added to my enjoyment.)

During my search for accommodation leading up to this trip, I learned of a new hotel that had opened since my September visit. Although I simply adored the Hermitage last time, and sincerely hope to stay there again in the future, I was won over by the Gunawarman's super-close location to the office I would be visiting. Since it was priced exactly at my firm's nightly budget, I opted to stay there for Thursday and Friday, before moving to a different (read: cheaper) alternative for my self-funded final night.

Checking in to the stunning hotel, I was amazed by the pulsating music coming from Sofia, the bar-cum-club just off the main lobby. Tempted as I was to indulge in a few more gin-based libations, common sense prevailed. I settled in my room, flipped through the channels and got a good night's rest so I would be fully energized for the next day's meeting.

The next morning, after a complimentary breakfast of eggs Benedict at Sofia, I squeezed in a black coffee at Doppio, a local café down the street from the hotel. And before long, I was all suited up and ready for work.

A long day successfully completed—but a disastrous attempt to walk back to the hotel afterwards—I rewarded—or consoled—myself with a couple rounds of cocktails at swanky Sofia: a Sidecar and a Clover Club. It quickly jumped to my shortlist of favorite Southeast Asian watering holes. Next time I'm in Jakarta, whether staying at the Gunawarman or elsewhere, I'll surely pop in for a drink or three.

Perhaps even more suited to my tastes, however, was Csaba, the members-and-guests-only basement club, where I only went for a quick looksee. The inviting leather armchairs, dark wood paneling and old time jazz was too much to deny.

I ordered a Gibson, ran up to my room to grab the book I'm reading, and nestled in. I was the only person around, with a staff of four or five waiters on hand just for me, as if they were awaiting the arrival of Cary Grant or Carole Lombard. And as song after favorite song came on, I was in heaven.

The next morning, it was already time to say goodbye to the Gunawarman. I had booked a room at the Novotel for the last night, and I planned to visit the National Museum before meeting up with one of my contacts in Jakarta, dr. Stephany, who works for an insurance company and had presented to one of my groups the day before. 

My taxi driver couldn't get too close to the museum because the road was closed to traffic thanks to massive protests taking place in Merdeka Square. So I had to walk the rest of the way. One hand was firmly attached to my suitcase, which I had with me because I had checked out of the Gunawarman and would be headed straight to the Novotel later that day. The other was holding up my jeans, because I'd forgotten my belt in Hong Kong. It was far from a nice day, with dark clouds and occasional drizzles. And all the gates to the museum were locked.

Me and a local lady were calling to the guards seated at the entrance to find out how to get in, but they seemed to be deliberately ignoring our cries. I turned up the side street to see if I could find another way in, but some police officers waved me away, telling me I could not proceed any further. At this point, I was about to give up. Perhaps it was best to just drop my bag at my next hotel and relax until meeting dr. Stephany and her husband at 1pm. But then, out of nowhere, another guard screamed out to me and pointed to a previously-bolted gate, which could have only been unlocked when I ventured up the side street after I had tried to open it. He ushered me in, sold me a ticket and acted as if this wasn't the most confusing thing in the world.

Although the bulk of the National Museum is undergoing renovation, there are four floors of very interesting exhibits which will remain open to the public during the process. There's a collection of old furniture, clothing, boats, bicycles, hats, jewelry, pottery and models that kept me intrigued for a solid hour or so. Of course, I was disappointed that I only got to see a portion of what's purported to be one of Southeast Asia's most impressive collections of artifacts, but I look forward to visiting again when the whole thing is re-opened. (Apparently, thought, this won't be until the summer of 2018!)

Jakarta, as I'd learned the night before, is decidedly not a walking city. Everybody takes taxis everywhere. Still, I was determined to make it from museum to restaurant on foot, as Google claimed it should only take twenty or so minutes. Even when sidewalks exist in Jakarta, motorcyclists use them as roads. Traffic is horrendous and disorganized, and often you just have to cross the street and hope for the best. But the maps I had studied were accurate, and I made it to the restaurant in one piece, with my suitcase intact and my jeans up. I can't exactly claim it was a pleasant walk, but I still got to see a lot of Jakarta life on street level. And there's something especially satisfying about experiences like that.

Unfortunately, at this point, I learned that, like the museum, the restaurant dr. Stephany had selected was closed for renovations. A friendly non-English speaking delivery boy let me use his phone to call dr. Stephany, and a staff member took his phone to explain the situation to her. Still, I was in the right place, and my hosts said they would soon arrive and we could head somewhere else for lunch.

They elected to drive me to Tangerang, another city about sixteen miles outside of Jakarta. They treated me to an amazing local lunch at a restaurant called Ikan Bakar Cianjur, apparently a seafood chain in Indonesia. Seated besides a waterfall, we feasted on grilled fish, veal, vegetables and soup, and an interesting concoction of coconut and orange juice to wash it down.

We then drove to the historic old quarter of Tangerang, exploring a bustling Chinese temple and teeming, muddy streets. There was so much action going on, especially around the temple, since this was the last of the fifteen days that make up the Chinese New Year holiday.

A local museum in an immaculately restored Chinese shop house capped off our visit to Tangerang.  The quote printed above the door will stay with me a long time: "We will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand and we understand only what we are taught." An energetic guide, clearly very proud to share his stories with us, shepherded us around the ancient building, a place I almost certainly never would have even heard about had it not been for dr. Stephany and her husband, who very graciously sacrificed their entire Saturday to show me the sights.

As a thank you for an incredible day, I treated my hosts to a tasty dinner at Jonisteak, a favorite restaurant of theirs that just so happens to be a few feet down the street from the Novotel, where they dropped me off after our long, exhausting but truly unforgettable afternoon! My room rate included a "welcome drink," a ginger ale, which I enjoyed at the empty bar, again reading a few pages of my book before turning in.

While reading up a bit more on Jakarta's attractions going into this trip, I learned about Sunda Kelapa, the old port that was once the city's main shipping hub. These days, it caters to traditional wooden sailing ships called pinisi, which ply the islands of the Indonesian archipelago. It's got to be one of the single most atmospheric ports on earth.

While the far larger and more technologically advanced port of Tanjung Priok took over the main responsibilities associated with international trade and shipping, Sunda Kelapa thankfully remains, in a nod to tradition and history.

  

The colorful pinisi are lined up as far as the eye can see, their masts towering above the road, the hulls sunk low in the dirty water. Workmen are busy loading and unloading cargo—mostly sandbags, it seemed to me—while a handful of tourists wander about snapping photographs.

A friendly "guide" offered to take me around the harbor, also showing off the nearby fish market and Chinatown. But unfortunately, owing to my flight in just a few hours' time, I had to turn it down. In addition to the rest of the National Museum, I guess this grand tour will have wait until an uncertain future date.

I did have time to squeeze in a visit to the fascinating Museum Bahari, or Maritime Museum, just around the corner, which details the history of Jakarta's relationship with trade and the sea. Well organized and housed in a charming collection of old waterfront warehouses, the museum presents an intriguing collection of model ships, paintings, relics and informative panels detailing the long maritime history of this ever-fascinating city. I loved wandering around its darkened rooms in relative solitude.

Just a few meters away is the brightly-painted Menara Syahbandar, an old watchtower where customs officers of old would survey the action of the port. This noble edifice was once the zero-marker from which distances to and from Jakarta were officially measured. Now, the National Monument in Merdeka Square has taken over that function, but the tower still bears silent witness to centuries of maritime commerce.

One of the first things I noticed about the tower was it's gentle sloping, which I supposed had something to do with the areas Dutch heritage. However, an explanatory sign beside the structure provides this reassuring clarification: "Standing on top of swamp area, the old tower slowly leaned southward, therefore it is known as 'Menara Miring' (Leaning Tower). Currently located on the busy road packed with vehicles and container trucks, has added to its vibration load, on the south side of the tower. That is why it is also called as 'Menara Goyang' (Shaking Tower) because it feels shaky when cars pass by."

Up I went to surmise the view from the top, feeling the promised vibrations as I scaled the red steps inside. Again, I had the place all to myself.

The last sight I was bent on finding that morning was Jembatan Kota Intan, Jakarta's last remaining Dutch drawbridge, itself magnificently restored yet presiding over a trash-filled mess of streets and waterways. I have a feeling that in the not-so-distant future, this whole area will become a pedestrian-friendly tourist zone, all cleaned up and polished. And I know that when that time comes, I'll feel very grateful indeed that I got to experience it as the real, down-and-dirty neighborhood I saw that day.

Heading back towards the Novotel, I passed through the historic town's main square, which I thoroughly explored on my previous trip. Although I only walked through this time—and rather briskly, at that—I really love this part of Jakarta. The Dutch relics that populate the quaint district make for memorable strolling and, with just a dash of imagination, you can really envision a lively colonial hub of yesteryear.

At noon, I checked out of the Novotel and hopped in a taxi to the airport, spending some of my leftover funds on edible souvenirs to share with my colleagues back in the office on Monday. Soekarno-Hatta International Airport is actually a pleasant little place to kill some time before a flight. It feels quite homey for a major hub, and I had one last Indonesian coffee at a little café just beside my gate.

Disappointingly, my "window" seat in the emergency row didn't actually have a window for me to look out of, just a wall. I consoled myself with the extra leg room and thoughts of what movie I was going to watch. You can imagine how gutted I felt when I realized that my personal entertainment set was not working either! Although the Cathay staff were clearly trying their best to fix the problem, it was not to be. Luckily, the friendly Indonesian lady seated beside me offered to switch places with me, and I watched a fantastic Hong Kong film, Echoes of the Rainbow, which I've wanted to see for years. It didn't disappoint, turning out to be a great little end to the weekend. And, as you can probably guess, I hope another trip to Indonesia's vibrant capital is in the cards for me.