Sorry, it took me a day longer than I expected to complete this post. Back on kampus after a 10 day break, homework to do (irritatingly enough), a very untidy room to clean up and many lost hours of sleep to catch up on.
Anyway, so I resume at the point where we had just driven away from the porn hotel on the way to Riskhy’s house. We were really very fortunate to be able to stay there. Not only is it in one of Jakarta’s best areas, it meant that we saved a packet on cabs cos Riskhy kindly drove us all around everywhere. His parents were also lovely, and took care of me when I had my acute bout of gut trouble. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Anyway, we headed out that night to sample the JKT nightlife, eating dinner at Chitos a big place full of loads of different very nice restaraunts. I ate some kind of noodle dish, which pleasantly I saw splattered on the ground later in the evening. But once more, I digress.
After that we hit up a place called Gillians, which is a billiard hall cum bar cum strip club. I was rather appalled to hear after we had been there for about an hour that Alana and I were to be cleared off the dance floor to make way for the “sexy dancers”. I have seen these supposed “sexy dancers” in Yogya, different ones of course, and apart from a few suggestive moves there ain’t much to see. The JKT breed on the other hand actually remove the vast majority of their clothes. You should see the Indonesian men. They love it. Come to think of it Ben and Daniel didn’t seem to mind to much either.
Anyway, that was soon over at which point I decided I was going to take it easy, mainly because of suspicious grumbling noises in my stomach and a general feeling of yuckiness. We moved on to a club called Vertigo which was hot, hot, hot. Two floors, the top floor dance and electro, and the bottom floor, R & B. It cost a ridiculous 85 thousand rupiah ($13) to get in (in Yogya we usually wheedle our way in for free) but that included a free drink of choice. I chose a vodka and gave it to Alana. By this time my gut was feeling as though someone was twisting knives inside it, and my friends were getting progressively more tiddly. I foresaw problems.
Anyway, I managed to dance for about half an hour, during which time I saw a THIRD actor from that same film “Mengejar Matahari” but was worried I might vomit on him if I spoke to him so I didn’t get a picture. Anyway, we decided to check out the R & B floor. The music down there was better and I managed a few more dances. Alana then used the power of bule to get us a reserved sitting area which usually requires a very expensive bottle of alcohol to be opened before seating rights are obtained. We got to go and sit there free. Unfortunately there was a bit of a mental case sitting there- a Chinese Australian called Andy, who according to him, is employed by the Australian Embassy and was accompanied by 2 bodyguards. I say he is full of it. We were then presented by him, with a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue label, which I believe is the best one you can get and had set crazy mental Andy back about $550. The connoisseurs among you will be appalled to hear I could barely manage one sip, such was the problem with my stomach. I had to SMS Ben who was upstairs to come down and drink it so that it wouldn’t be wasted. The following hours unfolded as follows. My friends partaking in absurdly expensive whisky with a nutcase while I became progressively more concerned about when, not if, I was going to throw up. In the middle of all this, a member of the Indonesian mafia, 19 years old and proudly bragging to have spent 9 million rupiah in one night ($1300?) decided to join us. He is apparently linked to the Suharto family and is related to one of Riskhy’s ex’s. He shook my hand twice and crushed it twice. I have a firm handshake, so he obviously felt the need to exert his 19 year old “something-to-prove” masculinity on my hand, twice. I was highly impressed by his strength, as I am sure you can imagine, but refrained from telling him so because he was accompanied by 9 body guards. 9! Anyway, around this time I ran to the toilet and am pleased to say they were the cleanest toilets I have ever seen, except maybe in Japan, and every cubicle had a 20th floor view of Jakarta. Alas, I couldn’t appreciate the view too well. But no vomit yet.
Anyway, by the time I left the toilet, Andy and mafia boy had become acquainted and discovered a mutual dislike for each other. Ben pointed out that there was likely to be a war. I just wanted to leave and curl up in a corner and die. Anyway, eventually we left the two mental cases and their 11 bodyguards to discuss their differences, but not before I had to fake vomiting to make Andy leave us alone. It sounds crazy, but as the member of our party with most perspective and no alcohol in my system, it was pretty mild.
Anyway, we stopped at Circle K (like 7-11) on the way home to get water, and as I was processing my transaction finally had to submit to the urge to vomit. There were my noodles at my feet. Gross. We got home eventually, Riskhy’s mum was already awake to read the Koran and go for her morning walk (it was about 5am) and we fell into bed. I then proceeded to vomit continuously until 8.30am. Riskhy’s mum checked on me around that time, and to my retrospective delight I managed to speak some relatively complicated Indonesian in response to her question about whether I needed to go to the Dr, all this off no sleep and a continuing urge to vomit. Something along the lines of “lets wait until the afternoon, if I am still sick then it’s relatively likely that the cause is not the food I ate yesterday, so at that time maybe we should think about going to the Doctor.” Of course, I have no-one to verify that it was correct, but she seemed to understand me!
Anyway, after that action packed evening and no sleep, I decided to pass on the opportunity to go shopping in the famous JKT malls with the others and slept all day to sleep off the bug. Riskhy’s parents got the maid to make me some plain porridge which was the best thing I could have eaten. Substance without flavour. Remember that.
Later that night I was feeling much better, and the others, in contradiction of their earlier promise for a “quiet one” decided JKT clubs it was once more. I decided to join them for dinner and then go home after that. Riskhy’s friend Ferri promised to drop me home. As it turned out, Risky plays guitar in a band that includes a pretty famous singer here. They are a funk-lounge group who were playing their second show at the Four Seasons bar. Hot ticket kids. That place has launched another famous Indo band called Maliq & d’Essentials, and if my ears have any credibility they might launch another. We watched them until midnight. That was the point where I was meant to go home, but having had a very lazy day, probably my laziest so far in Indo, I decided to join the others to another place called “Cerca”, a Moulin Rouge-esque lounge bar club thingo on the 47th floor of some building or other. Now Ben, Daniel, Alana and I all agree it is the coolest place we have ever been. It had beds (see the photo stream) and velvet high-backed chairs, velvet curtains draped everywhere and of course an absolutely fantastic view of JKT. The music was great (not the same trance you hear everywhere) and I met some more cool friends of Riskhy, all whom have studied in Oz and or speak great English. Unfortunately, for some stupid reason, that place is closing down and the night we were there was the last night. I am sure it will re-open, if not it is going to leave a big “cerca” shaped hole in the Universe that will need to be filled with something equally cool (my apologies to Arundhati Roy- those of u who have read God of Small Things know what I am on about). After that, we went to a place called Wonder Bar, which was less cool but had fantastic décor. At that point, I discovered an untapped source of energy, possibly in my elbow or little toe, and proceeded to amuse my friends by dancing for the next couple of hours.
Anyway, no mafia or overly rich mental people that night, but it was still a good night. I was especially surprised by my stamina given the previous night and morning. I attribute my success to the porridge.
The next day Ben and Daniel were off to Bandung, leaving Alana and I to lunch with Riskhy’s parents. My goodness, what lovely people. They bought us lunch and took us to our mall of choice for a good look at the shops. At this point let me just tell u something about JKT. It is a very hot place. It is dirty, but I have seen worse. In one place you see extreme poverty and fabulous wealth butted up against each other, literally next door. It’s main attraction is for business people, people who want to try and make their fortune, and for people who like clubbing and shopping. For people my age Jakarta is massive malls, (like eNoRmOuS malls) and a wide range of clubs.
That last day I sample both. I got some nice new sandles, finally in bule size and a cute little purple shrug from Zara, as well as some CD’s. JKT prices didn’t fit my budget, so thank goodness for my little credit card.
Anyway, I am going to cut this post short cos there are a bunch of people waiting to read this at my house in Australia. Hello Shaz, Dirk, Kim, Jase, Narn, Pop, Ma, Da, Nanoo, Chonnie, Gaborigine, Lennon, and anyone that I just forgot. Miss you all!! Enjoy the photo’s and don’t worry, everything here is going just fine! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thursday, April 13, 2006
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