Water buffalo

Water buffalo
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

Check out these water buffalo wallowing in a mud hole. Is it possible to find purer happiness?

On another topic, I was in a mall yesterday to buy an extension cord (you go to shopping malls here for everything) and I noticed they had one of those generic Andean music bands that you find in every shopping mall and every "Harborplace" type development in America, with the wooden pipes and strumming guitars and everything. Unbefreakinglievable what a global commodity that music has become.

One of those days!

I had one of those "how could this get any worse?" moments on Friday. It was time to leave work, and a torrential tropical downpour had just stopped, so I thought it was safe to go outside. I tried to get a cab, but there were none to be found, probably because of the rain that had just stopped. So I decided to walk, something that would usually only take 15 minutes.

I had gotten halfway home when it started to rain again. I hid under a bus shelter with a leaky roof, and the rain intensified until it was a solid wall of water. All of the billions of motor scooters on the road pulled over, and their riders all also got under the bus shelter.

I hailed a taxi, but he had his meter turned off and he said "tiga puluh," which means 30, or about six times what the fare should have been. Even though this only amounted to three bucks, I was really annoyed at his opportunism and so I told him he was crazy and jumped out, back to the bus stop.

Anyway, I realized that it would have been a long ride anyway, because I was on the wrong side of the street, and the way Jakarta is laid out there would have been no place to turn around for a mile and a half, which in grinding seething rush hour traffic could have added an hour to the commute. So I had to cross the street, all six lanes, barely able to see the rain was so thick, and by the time I got to the other side after nearly being hit by a scooter that was splitting lanes, I was really drenched.

The bus stop on the other side leaked even worse, but it was still better than standing under the Niagara Falls the sky had become. I was pretty much resigned at this point to being wet. Then I noticed people saying stuff to me, and I realized they were guards from the place I work -- I didn't recognize them because they were out of uniform, and my glasses were wet. They were both amused and sympathetic to my plight, and it cheered me up a bit.

But I waited a half hour for another cab, and the driver tried the same "tiga puluh" approach again, to which I retorted "dua puluh." And he said "tiga." And I said "dua." And he accepted that.

Still, it was another 45 minutes to get home, because of the thickest, slowest traffic I'd ever seen. And all to cover the distance of a 15 minute walk!

A few photos from Bali

Borf

Borf
Originally uploaded by dcdan.

So "Borf" has been arrested. I must admit I'm kind of sad -- I enjoyed his mysterious appearances all over DC, and became kind of fascinated with the whole thing for a while. Like many other people. He is interviewed in the Washington Post, and he sounds like a good kid, too smart for his own good, idealistic, and naiive. And in his "I never want to grow up" philosophy, there's also the seed of a future Michael Jackson in the mix, too, which hopefully won't grow...

Washington Post Article on Borf

Bali

So I finally got a day off (thanks to the Fourth of July), and thus was able to travel to Bali, which is only about an hour's flight from Jakarta. My first stop was Sanur, a sleepy town which probably would not have been my first choice of places to go, except that there was a conference going on there which at the last moment I found out I needed to attend for work. This also meant I stayed at a huge international chain resort, also not my first choice but it was near the conference. It was one of those places which is a total self-contained world; you could be anywhere in the world and be there.

Fortunately, the conference was only one day, and in the evening and the next day I had time to explore. Unlike the rest of Indonesia which is Muslim and to a lesser degree Christian, Bali is predominately Buddhist and Hindu, and the signs of that are everywhere, from the "spirit houses" that one sees at nearly every building (they are miniature houses designed to give spirits a place to live so they won't inhabit the main building), to the little offerings of flowers and incense that one finds everywhere when one goes out in the morning, to the traditional costumes that people still wear for things like weddings (I was fortunate enough to witness one when strolling down a side street one night). All these traditions are still dearly held to, and are not just a show for tourists. It's one of the things that makes Bali feel special.

The next day I went down to Kuta, which is a huge tourist destination but still manages to retain that feel of something special. The beach is thronged with tourists, but also Balinese, who when they're not trying to sell you everything under the sun (cokes, massages, taxis, silver) are just hanging out and enjoying life, whether that's chatting or surfing or watching the parade of humanity going by. They tend to hang out in the groves of trees just behind the beach, rather than laying out on the sand to bake like us westerners.

Funny thing about taxis -- the world over, these guys tend to be the
sleazy ones. Besides hanging out all day and continually calling out to
people to offer rides, as if they can't believe you'd actually walk
anywhere, once you get in their car they're likely to offer you all kinds
of dubious things. "Need girl?" "No, just take me home thanks." A
rule of thumb with taxis -- always flag the ones that are moving, never
bother with the ones just waiting by the side of the road.

And speaking of dubiousness, I also had people come up to me and whisper
"marijuana," and even "want buy blue movie?" Just like New York in the
1970s!

Anyway, those things were more amusing than annoying. On July 4 it was
back to Jakarta, feeling more refreshed than I'd felt in a while. And now
I'm back in Aceh, listening to the sound of mosques all over the city
calling the faithful to prayer.