Jakarta (by kerouac2)
Feb 2, 2014 7:58:51 GMT
Post by Deleted on Feb 2, 2014 7:58:51 GMT
Let's face it, Jakarta is not one of my favourite cities in Southeast Asia, but that's mostly because I hardly know the city at all, don't speak the language (obviously) and most ordinary people in the street don't speak a word of English. Also, it must be admitted that most of it has not been "cleaned up" yet like a lot of the cities in the surrounding countries. Most of the canals are fetid sewers, every empty area seems to be an excuse to dump rubbish, and the city is in great part overrun by the poor who have come from the rural areas to get rich in the big city, something that almost never happens.
Having read the excellent novel by C.J. Koch The Year of Living Dangerously, made into an equally excellent film by Peter Weir, my vision was also a bit coloured by the idea of Jakarta being a permanent powder keg where the people can "turn on you" in a flash. The first time I passed through Jakarta, I had been told "just spend one night in transit there if you have to -- it's horrible!" I stayed at the Hotel Borobudur, which seemed to be an oasis of civilisation in the teeming chaos. In terms of my vision of the city, it had both the advantage and disadvantage of being one of the main settings of The Year of Living Dangerously, since it was the headquarters (at least in the 1960's) of the expat journalist community, being the first modern 'Western' hotel in the city with the all important lounge bar. Since the film contained some impressive riot scenes on the footpath right in front of the hotel (even though I knew the movie had been filmed in Manila), for that one night in Jakarta, I barely set foot out of the front door. The next morning I took a taxi back to the airport and flew to beautiful unscary Jogjakarta.
However, having "survived" Indonesia a first time, I was much more comfortable when I returned there about 15 years later, particularly since I had been to a number of far more difficult places in the meantime.
On my second trip, one of my first visits was to the National Museum. Like in many such countries with an overwhelming number of treasures to display but far more urgent priorities in terms of keeping the country running, the museum had barely changed since colonial times and seemed at sometimes to just be a warehouse to store items that had been saved from the pillagers of temples. However, since my last visit, a new building was added in 2007 and it can be hoped that the entire place has been a bit revamped. Nevertheless, wandering around an empty museum full of priceless treasures just lying around is always a thrill, so I am glad to have seen the place before anything was changed.
Having read the excellent novel by C.J. Koch The Year of Living Dangerously, made into an equally excellent film by Peter Weir, my vision was also a bit coloured by the idea of Jakarta being a permanent powder keg where the people can "turn on you" in a flash. The first time I passed through Jakarta, I had been told "just spend one night in transit there if you have to -- it's horrible!" I stayed at the Hotel Borobudur, which seemed to be an oasis of civilisation in the teeming chaos. In terms of my vision of the city, it had both the advantage and disadvantage of being one of the main settings of The Year of Living Dangerously, since it was the headquarters (at least in the 1960's) of the expat journalist community, being the first modern 'Western' hotel in the city with the all important lounge bar. Since the film contained some impressive riot scenes on the footpath right in front of the hotel (even though I knew the movie had been filmed in Manila), for that one night in Jakarta, I barely set foot out of the front door. The next morning I took a taxi back to the airport and flew to beautiful unscary Jogjakarta.
However, having "survived" Indonesia a first time, I was much more comfortable when I returned there about 15 years later, particularly since I had been to a number of far more difficult places in the meantime.
On my second trip, one of my first visits was to the National Museum. Like in many such countries with an overwhelming number of treasures to display but far more urgent priorities in terms of keeping the country running, the museum had barely changed since colonial times and seemed at sometimes to just be a warehouse to store items that had been saved from the pillagers of temples. However, since my last visit, a new building was added in 2007 and it can be hoped that the entire place has been a bit revamped. Nevertheless, wandering around an empty museum full of priceless treasures just lying around is always a thrill, so I am glad to have seen the place before anything was changed.