Singapore, Sarina, Nokia

So I wake up at 3:30 a.m. after working till 9 the day before and not doing anything to celebrate my last day at WallStreet. I got to sleep at about midnight so really it was a nap. The gate to my street was still down so the Bluebird taxi I had arranged for 4:30 couldn't get to my place. I just walked around the corner and met him. Not many taxis on the road at 4:30. Not many anythings. So we drive to the airport and get there at about 5:15 for my 7:05flight to Singapore. Plenty of time to spare. I KNOW myself!

The driver says to me, "Terminal mister?" So I sez, "Interrrnational," rolling the r in an exaggerated attempt to feign some unearned Bahasa ability. He responds in the affirmative giving me the impression that my ersatz Indonesian has done the trick and foolishly assuming that if you are flying internationally you fly out of the international terminal. He drops me off at a dark, lifeless, decidedly unbustling wing of the Jakarta airport. It definitely says "International" on the building but it gave me an Indonesian vibe. I dunno, it might have been that only one of every ten people I saw there was upright and awake. There was one guy smoking, as there always is, one guy walking around and about thirty people of varying ages, bed clothing and sleeping positions trying their best to get their 8 hours.

My driver was the third. He was working the old familiar no change gag on me. We had taken the toll road to the airport and he had instantly produced the 12,500 Rupiah or whatever it was to pay the toll. I suppose that was the last small change he had in the world because now with a bill of 119,000 Rupiah, after receiving from me three 50,000 Rp. bills he was doing the no change facial screws and gesticulations the cabbies in Jakarta probably study harder than their city maps. I, with my persisting newby thinking, stood there calculating that 150 thou is about 15 bucks and he had probably paid a buck fifty for the toll road so really he is conning me out of a buck and change here. So I gave him the three blues, (50,000 Rp notes are blue), thereby enabling the no small change ploy and increasing my, and everybody else's odds of encountering it again. Sorry all you expats in Indo.

I get into this building literally stepping over blankets, prayer rugs, tooth brushes and alarm clocks and walk the entire length of this apparently neglected Soekarno-Hatta International Airport offshoot to be met by the guy I assume to have been the lookout. If not him then the smoker. He walks the length of the hall, that's really all the place was, pointing to the ceiling saying, "Upstairs!" It takes a few minutes but I eventually realize that I have to go outside to take the elevator that leads to the outside of the inside of the upstairs where I think I might want to be. When I get there I find two pastry/coffee shops and an A&W just opening up. There were some signs for other Asian airways and a departure gate with a few security guards taking tickets and checking passports. I show him my passport and ticket printout only to be told something I had had Boston strong suspicions of already, "Terminal three," he gruffly announced to me. I do the blank stare and arms out shoulder shrug, a move that has served me well on my international travels, and it produces again. "Outside. Shuttlebus."

I go outside to get a shuttlebus and see a security guard sitting on the last, (or first), cart in the train of luggage carts having a smoke. I ask him how to get to terminal three and he says, "There. Yellow shuttlebus." See? Security guards... So I wait and wait. Still not panicky because I have given myself enough time to deal with this sort of eventuality eventuating. The shuttlebus comes and I get on. It stops at terminal "tiga" and I get off. No problem there. I know "tiga" means "three." I found an Air Asia check-in area and asked what to do. The attendant showed me that I needed to input my flight code and wait. I do so and nothing happens. Everyone is confused. Then they realize I hadn't booked a seat. If you don't book a seat you have to get your boarding pass INSIDE. Whatever! I got inside to find some lengthy line-ups. It's now getting close to boarding time. About half way through the line a lady who has an Air Asia uniform on and has been flashing me glances from time to time comes up to me and says, "Only one luggage?" I said yes. So she directs me to the very same machine I had tried before. When it doesn't work she gets confused. I tell her that I have not reserved a seat yet. She then reserves me a seat and voila the machine works. Next time I'll know.

The flight went well. I originally thought, by looking at the times on the tickets, that I'd have about 5 hours to kill in Singapore so I was planning to go to one of the really great gardens they have there. But when I got to the airport, saw the line-ups for immigration that would easily shave half an hour off my time, realized that Singapore was an hour different from Jakarta, I decided that with a max of 3 1/2 hours it wouldn't be worth it to go sightseeing. And besides, what an awesome airport to wander around in! So that's what I did. I bought a few things too. Spent a total of 50 Singaporian bucks and got a litre of gin, two decks of "I Heart Singapore" cards, a meal at Burger King and a mini Bahasa-English, (and vice versa), dictionary. All about half the price I would have paid in Jakarta. I love the Singapore airport! So clean and easy to find your way around! And so much great stuff! Some is pricey but you can find some good deals.

I then sat in a chair and watched a repeat showing of the Costa Rica/Italy game from the night before. Costa Rica is kicking ass! They were one of my randomly picked teams in the Jakarta Gentleman's Club pool and weren't supposed to do much. Beat Italy and Uruguay already. Not too shabby! I was starting to fade in and out while I watched though. Still not much of a soccer fan and it really was an early morning at 3:30. So killed some more time walking around trying to stay awake. What I should have been doing was going through customs, then coming back in. I ended up doing that at the last minute but still made the flight.

I got back to Jakarta at around 3ish in the afternoon I think. The last time I went through customs there I had an entry card but no pen. Had to ask the security guard. This time there were no pens and no CARDS! A far cry from Singapore! So again I asked the security guard. He looked around and found nothing. Then he just stopped looking. I found one that was partially filled out and just scratched out the info that had been filled in by a Mr. Leong. Not sure that would work though. Then got in a massive line-up. After about 30 minutes I was at the front. The lady in front of me was next and we were rolling our eyes at the two people in front of us. Both had not gotten their VOA from the window before standing in line. That's visa on arrival. I was pretty sure my visa was good for a year but the lady in front of me assured me I needed to get a VOA. So I got out of line and went back to get one. I asked the girl in the VOA office if I needed one and after looking at my previous visa, she assured me that I did. I paid 300,000 Rp. for it. That's about 30 bucks. Then got back in the half an hour line-up. I was the VERY last person to go through customs! The agent looked at my passport and my newly purchased visa and said, "You don't need this." He said I had a choice to use the new two-month visa or just continue using the one-year visa. So I said I wanted to keep using the one year visa. He ripped up the other one. I asked if maybe I could get my money back for it and he said, "Not now, I just ripped it up." I don't know if I could have gotten my money back anyway but, what a dick!

So then I go outside to the taxi ambush. "Mister, taxi? Taxi, mister?" All the taxi companies I've been told to avoid because they may not take you where you're going. I went to the area where we are supposed to get Bluebird taxis. Right next to the Express taxi area. Those are the two good ones I've been told. Both have a sort of ticket collector. He gives you a number and you get a taxi like you get served at the bank. I waited 20 minutes before I realized that, then waited 20 minutes AFTER I got the number but got into the taxi. Things were going fine until it started thundering, lightninging and raining. Rain has an almost miraculous effect on traffic here in Jakarta. Impossible to get a taxi too. Strange... So for no apparent reason traffic came to a grinding halt just a few minutes from my place. It was dark and the raindrops were pelting out a soft and soothing beat on the roof of the taxi and I did something you are NEVER supposed to do: I fell asleep. About 20 times. All with little mini-dreams ranging from 30 seconds to about 5 minutes. I was exhausted! It was now around supper time and I was getting a bit hungry too. I just wanted to get home, eat something and crash out for about 20 hours. And we were not moving. At ALL! One of my dreams was abruptly ended by another car "rubbing" the side of my taxi too. Scccrrrrccchhhh! Driver didn't even react. Not so uncommon here. It's already the second time for me. We finally started inching along and by about the 2 hour point of the journey I had made it back home! Success! I'm good for another two months. Hopefully by then I'll be working and able to get my KITAS, (proper visa). I called Matthew, my new boss, from the airport to confirm that renewing my original business visa instead of getting the new one was the thing to do and he verified it. He also invited me out for dinner and to meet his wife, Ati the next night. That night he was going out and he invited me but I had to give that one a miss because I was already turning into a pumpkin. Good thing. I probably wouldn't have made it with that brutal traffic.

So the next day I got up determined to shop for a laptop. I'll need it for the new job. I went to Ratu Plaza, which is a good place to look for electronics. I found a pretty good deal on an HP laptop for about 500 bucks and it comes with Windows 8 and a free printer. I was on my way to the cash machine to get the money to buy it and thought I should text Matthew and ask when he wanted to meet up for dinner. He sends a text back something like, "On the way now. Please meet us and don't be late." I had no idea where they were going so I called him. He told me where they'd be and said he'd text the location and I could just show that to the taxi driver. Then Ati mentioned that it was Jakarta's birthday and between the area where I was and the area where they were there would be a big parade so roads would be shut down completely. To add to the usual brutal traffic in Sudirman, (the name of the area). So I looked outside and sure enough - gridlock! Nothing moving. Matthew suggested I take a busway to Sarina Mall then get out there and show the text message with the directions to a taxi driver. That oughta work. So I went to the busway area. Busways are buses that can use the busway lane in the downtown area. When you are in a cab inching along and see the busway go whizzing by sometimes you wish you were on it. This would be my first try. I waited for a few buses before I was able to ruck my way onto one. I'm not exaggerating! People were actually putting their arms around each other, BINDING ON, and rucking into the door of the bus so that their momentum would allow them to cram in. Needless to say these buses were jammed to the nuts! I managed to get a spot underneath an air con vent so I had that going for me. I had a lot of money in my wallet for the computer so I had my thumb in my wallet pocket but had to hang on to the bars above with my other hand. The hand that could have been blocking my cellphone pocket.

At Sarina Mall, the stop Matthew had instructed me to get off at, I moshed my way off the bus and checked all my pockets. Keys, check, wallet, check, paper pocket, check, cellphone pocket, empty. The bus was long gone. With my phone and the directions to dinner on it. Not to mention all the numbers of everybody I know here. So I did the only thing I could. I walked out to the street and watched some of the parade. People were all dressed in traditional garments, playing traditional music, smiling, I could have taken some lovely pictures... if I'd had my phone. I decided to look for a taxi as Matthew had suggested, but not to the restaurant, to my place. There were no taxis whatsoever. Even if my phone hadn't been pickpocketed there would have been no way to take a cab to the restaurant to meet Matthew and Ati. I walked sort of aimlessly just to get out of the blocked off area. I walked and walked and sweated and sweated. Luckily I was wearing my runners and wouldn't get my feet all blistery. Or so I thought. I kept walking, not knowing if I was going in the right direction or not. I had moved into my new place less than a week before so really hadn't yet learned the way home. And certainly not from where I was. It took me about three hours to get home. I was very tired and I DID have blisters on my feet! But I had to let Matthew and Ati know what had happened. So I did the only thing I could think of: I went to the pub. Surely someone there would have a phone I could use to get in touch with them!

So I sat at the pub rehydrating after a long, sweaty walk and resting my barking dogs. I found a friend there, Darren, (also known as the Cripple in Jakarta Gentlemen's Club), and he let me get the message out that my phone was lost. Well, you see, they have about 20 different prefixes to telephone numbers here in Jakarta. And none of the numbers I've been getting told verbally or texted over the phone work. Either the person telling me is assuming I'll know the long list of possible ways to try to dial the number or by some ridiculous coincidence I've copied down and/or received about a dozen numbers wrong. The numbers for my boss and his wife I was given did not work when I dialled them the way they were given. So I waited until they called me and on my telephone screen up popped the identical phone numbers with different starting numbers. So I saved those numbers in my phone. They were working for a while but suddenly they no longer worked! I can't believe anybody would have knowingly changed from 062 to just 62 or whatever. So I called the numbers I had for Matthew and Ati, both of which had worked before, and got messages that said they were no longer in service, busy, can't be completed as dialled or something like that when all along the REAL message should have been, "We're sorry but Jakarta is still in the dark ages of cell phone service. Please re-dial with some randomly selected numbers before the actual number. You should be able to connect to the party you wish to reach in several thousand attempts. Telima Kasih!"

Telima kasih means thank you. So I didn't get ahold of anybody but I stayed up till 5 or 6 in the morning watching Korea get smoked by Algeria in World Cup action. I had a meeting the next day with a fellow employee named Dennis. He said we should get together for a coffee and a chat at 12:30 at the Circle K around the corner from where I live. So I went the the Circle K around the corner from where I live. Waited for half an hour and Dennis didn't show. Of course I have no phone to send any messages or give him a call and see what happened. Or receive a call from him explaining what had happened... I had to get a phone. I heard you can get a cheapo Nokia here, like all the other S.E. Asian countries, and it'll be like 50 bucks. I have a Nokia for Thailand and one for the Philippines. SOOOOOOOOOO much better than any other phone! Including the Samsung Galaxy and I would be willing to wager, the stupid I phone. Simple is better for me. More technology = more problems. So I went to Pondok Indah Mall because I KNOW I had seen a Nokia place there in my travels. That's where I have been working for the past two months. I couldn't find it. My feet were still blistery and I had to wear my sandals for that reason. I wasn't about to comb the entirity of Pondok Indah Mall! So I settled for a local product. It was something like 18 bucks! I couldn't beieve it! Then I went to the phone store to get a sim card for it. The sim card worked until I got out of the store. I went back and she changed it to the second sim card slot. It worked fine. Until I got to Wall Street. I was telling a few people my new number and the card wasn't being read. So I just took the thing back. They said they couldn't give me my money back. So I just explained what had happened about a dozen times before they gave me back my money. Then, pain be damned, I combed the outer reaches of Pondok Indah Mall looking for the Nokia store. It was, OF COURSE, in the very last wing, walkway, skywalk or whatever that I checked. But now it was a mission. I looked at the cheapo phones on display and picked one out. The girl says, "Out of stock." So I went up in price until I got one they HAD in stock. Only one colour though. Shockingly bright yellow! Don't care. Mission! "I'll take it!" I said and slammed a sweaty handful of Rupiah down on the counter. The gesture lost some of its finality when the girl motioned me over to another dude in the other corner who was the one taking the money.

So now I have a cheapo phone and today I spent the day getting myself a cheapo laptop. That's what I'm typing on now. It's working okay but unfortunately I will have to tweak the settings. Every third word I type is being underlined by spellcheck because I think it's an Indonesian spellcheck. So I've just disabled spellcheck. Along with the annoying mousepad. I got me a real wireless mouse because I hate typing and accidentally touching the mousepad and having your curser jump half way up the page.

The moral of the story is traffic is brutal in this country. So are cell phone service and internet. Having a smartphone or a really powerful computer here is like having a Ferrari. They're more likely to be stolen than used the way they were meant to be used. I'm a low tech. redneck. NObody wants my cheapo yellow phone or my tiny laptop. But they both seem to be working just fine for me! So far...