| Story Views | |
| Now: | |
| Last Hour: | |
| Last 24 Hours: | |
| Total: | |
On the ground in Jakarta
Jakarta, Indonesia
From the end of September to the middle of October, I traveled to five countries in Southeast Asia to recruit international students to come to the U.S. What follows is a travelogue documenting my impressions on the ground in each country. It differs from my usual Foreign Policy posts in that it is less news-based and detours from my regular focus on Japan. The first part is about my visit to Indonesia. Following installments will be about Malaysia, Vietnam, Thailand and Cambodia.
Twenty-eight hours after leaving my doorstep in Kansas, I was on the ground at Soekarno-Hatta International Airport in Jakarta, Indonesia. My first impression was chaos. That impression never left me during my four days in that city.
My plane landed at 10:45 p.m., after being delayed in Incheon, South Korea, due to a late connecting flight. My fellow travelers and I found our way to immigration. Like the checkout areas in your typical Walmart Supercenter, there were two immigration areas, each with separate lines for each immigration counter. One has to be savvy and pick which area and which line will be fastest. A fairer way would be to have one line, and each person goes to the next available counter, like at Best Buy. But before you can even choose which line you want to stand in at immigration, you have to stand in a separate line to pay a $25 visa fee. Complicating matters was the fact that these areas were poorly marked, and no signs spelling out the system could be found.
After baggage claim and fighting off porters comes customs. There are separate lines for items to declare and nothing to declare. By “lines” I mean “free-for-all.” And, naturally, there are no signs here until you get to the front and realize you’ve been standing in the wrong line the entire time, so you have to force your way into the right line, much like road traffic here. Here your luggage needs to be scanned before LEAVING the airport, because going through security in the U.S. to get on the plane apparently wasn’t sufficient.
Next was a simple matter of finding a legitimate taxi outside the airport at midnight. While I was approached by multiple taxi drivers, I used a dispatched taxi, made sure the driver knew where I wanted to go, and agreed on the fare before getting into the car, which is recommended anywhere you go. The taxi was an older Toyota, and as we were cruising down the highway, the hood popped open, covering the windshield, like the scene in the 1995 Chris Farley/David Spade classic comedy, Tommy Boy.
Pulling up to the hotel, security at the front gate checked inside the car and under the carriage for explosives. Next, I had to go through a metal detector to enter the building. The amount of security I had gone through since entering this country was a little disconcerting, as I imagined this was a reaction to actual threats. I don’t blame them for putting me through the scrutiny. Pulling up at 1 a.m., dressed comfortably in T-shirt and jeans for the 30-hour journey, my hair an oil slick at this point, I certainly didn’t look like I belonged at a five-star hotel.
The next day, I took a five-mile walk around Central Jakarta to get a feel for the city.
The first thing you notice is the noise. Jackhammers from construction sites, honking of horns and motorbike engines constantly compete to be the loudest. The humidity gets to you next. Amplified by the air pollution, the heat and humidity quickly make you feel sticky and dirty.
One feature that becomes instantly obvious is the vast disparity between the haves and have-nots. People here are either obscenely rich or insanely poor. There is a small middle-class who live in small, but decent, homes. The haves live in palatial mansions. The have-nots live in sheet-metal shacks. Large, modern shopping malls sit on the banks of rivers flowing with garbage. A tent village had been erected across the street of my luxury hotel. I took this as a sign of misplaced governmental priorities. Too much money spent on the military and not enough on infrastructure and social services. Indonesia is rich in natural resources, including oil, so the percentage living of people in poverty is troubling. I did hear that Jakarta was renovating its rail system, which may be a sign that things are changing for the better, and the country regained its investment grade rating in late 2011, after having lost it in 1997 during the Asian Financial Crisis. However, I got the impression talking to several people there is deep-seated financial insecurity among the population. Even the rich feel like their wealth is fleeting.
Walking around, the people were mostly sweet and left me alone. While I got a few sideways looks, I never felt like I was in danger walking alone. The only danger was crossing the street, which is like a real-life game of Frogger.
That night I went to a reception at the official residence of U.S. Deputy Chief of Mission’s residence. I mentioned my leisurely stroll around Jakarta, and got looks like I was crazy. Deputy Chief of Mission Kristen Bauer shared with me the secret to safely crossing streets in Jakarta. The secret is to stick out your hand, palm up, and simply step out into the street. Don’t look before stepping into traffic, because if the driver sees that you see them, they will feel like they don’t have to stop. Just stick out your hand and go, and the cars will stop or go around you. “Works like magic,” she said. (EDITOR’S NOTE: The Foreign Policy Association is not responsible for any injuries sustained following this advice.)
Next day I participated in a university fair for students interested in studying in the U.S. President Obama recently said he would like to double the number of Indonesians studying in the U.S. So no pressure on me, right?
Here I had to directly confront the widely held notion in Indonesia that Americans are hostile to Muslims, which is the main cause for the plummeting number of Indonesians studying in the U.S. since Sept. 11, 2001. Given where we’ve focused our military strength over the past decade and the rhetoric on Fox News this is a hard notion to disprove. Basically I said one should worry more about street crime than hate crime, but be cautious of both. I found it curious why Indonesians would be so apprehensive of their personal safety, while Saudi Arabians still come to the U.S. to study in droves. Indonesians don’t look like “stereotypical” Muslims (e.g. Middle Easterners, even though Indonesia is the largest Muslim country), and they typically don’t distinguish themselves as Muslims by their dress (although many women do wear a hijab). While a minority of rednecks and generally ignorant people are prejudiced against Muslims, from my conversations with Muslims, the most common complaint is about evangelical Christians trying to convert them, not realizing that anyone who isn’t Christian can actually be sincere in their beliefs. This is more of an annoyance than a perceived threat. However, if someone is threatening you, the best thing to do is to just quickly walk away. This advise applies to everyone.
After my short visit to Indonesia, it was time to fly on to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia–the next stop on my tour. My group arrived early at Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, anticipating a long wait. After waiting in line for an hour and forty minutes to get to the front of the check-in line, I had the bad luck of being stuck behind a Japanese tourist who had a bag that was over the weight limit. So I had to stand there while he tried to rearrange his omiyage (souvenirs for coworkers) into his underweight pack, which wasn’t large enough to accommodate the extra items. He sat on his suitcase, trying and failing to get it to shut. I waited for 20 minutes while this was allowed to go on, thinking, Just charge the overweight fees to your business card and claim it on your expense report! What’s wrong with you? Finally a manager came and had him get out of line to rearrange his bags and I was able to go to the front and pay the departure tax for the privileged of leaving the country. I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t pay?
After going through security three times, I boarded the plane to KL. Check back later this week for my impressions of Malaysia, a country that is vastly different from Indonesia, despite the people having such a similar character.
Source: http://foreignpolicyblogs.com/2013/10/28/on-the-ground-in-jakarta-2/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=on-the-ground-in-jakarta-2
