You know you've been in Indonesia too long

Someone sent this to me a while ago, and I have to say that I can relate to almost every single one of these.

• You too believe traffic lanes, stop signs and one way streets are mere suggestions and that sidewalks were meant to drive on or they wouldn't have paved them.
• You can drive 60 kmh two inches from cars on either side of you, but cannot back into a parking space in an empty lot without two guys yelling “Kiri…Kiri Terus, Terus, Terus…”
• You stop wondering why the concept of turning lanes never occurred to traffic engineers in Jakarta
• You stop wondering if the concept of traffic engineers ever occurred to anyone in Jakarta
• You can kill cockroaches with your bare feet
• The footprints on the toilet seat are your own
• You no longer wait in line, but immediately go to the head of the queue
• It has become exciting to see if you can get on the elevator before anybody else can get off
• You're willing to pay to use a toilet you wouldn't go within a kilometer of at home
• You no longer wonder how someone making US$200 per month can drive a Mercedes
• You have considered buying a motorcycle for the next family car
• You walk to the pub with your arm around your mate
• You answer the telephone with “Hello” more than 2 times
• You are quite content to repeat your order six times in a restaurant that only has four items on the menu
• You regard it as part of an adventure when the waiter exactly repeats your order and the cook makes something completely different
• A T-bone steak and rice sounds just fine
• If when listening to the pilot prove he can't speak English, you no longer wonder if he can understand the Air Traffic Controllers
• You find it saves time to stand and retrieve your cabin baggage while the plane is on final approach
• You're not surprised when three men with a ladder show up to change a light bulb
• Taxi drivers understand you
• You own a rice cooker
• You can shake your hands almost perfectly dry before wiping them on your pants
• When crossing a busy street you believe that a limp wrist motion with your right arm creates a force field that repels oncoming traffic
• You think it's logical to dry your hands with Kleenex
• When dining at a mexican restaurant, the table next to you is occupied by an overweight, bald, fifty-something Australian petroleum worker who has each of his arms around a teenaged Sundanese girl
• You find yourself getting upset with inflation because the price of the buffet in a five-star hotel is now nearly ten dollars
• Going out for a drink with your coworker, he shows up with his girlfriend, even though you are on a first name basis with his wife
• Someone tells you that 10 kbs is a pretty good download speed
• You find a fly in your Bintang, and you fish the fly out with a spoon and drink it anyway
• You are no longer confused when you are asked if you want some 'beep bacon' (beef bacon) with your eggs.
• A bathroom with four attendants is so disgustingly filthy that you wouldn't step into it back home ... and one of those attendants sole job is to hand you flimsy, single-ply toilet paper to dry your hands.
• You look left, right, backwards, forwards, up and down before crossing a one way street.
• You take a book to read on the journey to work
• You carry tissues in your pocket for 'emergency stops'
• The term "Blok M" starts sounding like a glittering venue for shopping and nightlife rather than part of a concentration camp
• The titles "Mr. Bob" and "Miss Barbara" begin to sound normal to you

The offshore rig

I've become rather slack in updating my blog, but better late than never I think.

 So if you have read my past entries you will know how much I hate the land rigs in Indonesia.  They are dirty, they constantly smell like something has died and is rotting right underneath you.  If you are fortunate enough to have running water, it comes out brown and smells horrible.  The bathroom is an adventure in itself since you are considered lucky to have a bacteria ridden toilet.  The food is inedible at best, mostly consisting of soups (refer to the previous comment about the brown water).  Yeah you get the point.  After being on a land rig for a month I was extremely happy to hear that I would be sent offshore.


View of the rig from the boat

The first rig I went to was somewhere in the Java sea.  This was an old BP rig and had many of my fellow North Americans on it.  I shared a bedroom with one of the other female engineers I was working with and it came equipped with it's very own semi-private bathroom.  The food was amazing and instead of goats intestines and brown soup we were served things like lasagna, and tacos!  There was ice cream 24/7 as well as fruits and vegetables.  I was sad that I had to say goodbye to that rig and all of my new North American friends on Christmas day and head back to Jakarta.

Offshore accommodation

The next rig I went to was for an exploration well on a Chinese rig, also in the Java Sea somewhere.  This time the boat ride out took 24 hours, and since it was a small boat and rough seas that was an adventure on its own.  Our crew included another international employee, and lucky for me she was from China.  Turns out she was more valuable than gold on this rig as the crew was almost entirely Chinese and spoke no English.  Even with a language barrier, it was still easy to see that every one was just as friendly as the previous location.  The rig was brand new (aka clean) and even came with our own flat screen tv's in our room.  The food was a little sketchy at best, and we were served some weird shit like turtle soup, buffalo skin (with hair still attached), chicken neck stir fry, etc., so I  was happy to find toast and peanut butter available 24/7.  During my two week stay I had a sinus infection.  When I went to see the rig doctor (who happens to moonlight as the chef) he diagnosed me with too much internal heat (I still don't know what that means) and gave me some Chinese herbs to clear that up, and no they didn't help.  Whenever we had any free time on the rig I worked on my ping-pong skills, which improved drastically after we had a 2 days of no drilling. 

Unfortunately I am writing this from a land rig in Indonesia, but I guess I have to take some bad with the good.  Plus, my fear of insects has almost completely disappeared after constantly being attacked by them.

Macet = Traffic

The traffic in Jakarta is amazing.

First of all, There don't seem to be any rules, it's just a free for all / bravest car wins sort of thing. I have yet to see a stop sign and usually the roads are just complete gridlock. Especially on Mondays, Fridays, anytime before or after work and all day on the weekend.

Jakarta, being the city of entrepreneurial spirit that it is, has these "volunteers" that stand out on the road and direct traffic for donations. You pay them 1000 or 2000 rph for walking out into the road and stopping oncoming traffic so you can go.   Basically that's equivalent to giving someone 10-25 cents everytime you want to make a turn where there is no traffic light.

Most of the time walking would be faster, but anytime there is even a hint of a sidewalk it is used to put a little store on or drive on.

Taking the bus here is another adventure on it's own and not advisable during traffic. While Jakarta does have a public transit system, most of the buses that connect to that are privately owned. These "ankats" look like a hollowed out minivan but even smaller. When the metal benches fill up inside, you can just hang off the side of the bus and hitch a ride. Prices range from 2000 to 3000rph (around 25 cents), but there us no air-conditioning and you are lucky to get a seat jammed in between two strangers. The best part is that these buses never actually stop and Jakarta locals are really good at simultaneously jumping out of the left side of a moving bus with all their belongings while handing the driver sitting on the right hand side the correct payment.  Having attempted this myself I can honestly say that it is no small feat.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Jalan Tol Lingkar Luar Jakarta,Jakarta Capital Region,Indonesia

Leaving my cellphone in a taxi

It was bound to happen sooner or later.  I am usually so careful about that too. This may sound shallow and cliche but my cellphone actually is my life line here. I use email and Skype to keep in touch with everyone from home, the map had saved me from getting lost a countless number of times, I even have a translator on here I use all the time (for obvious reasons). The thing helps me survive in a city where I don't speak the local language and have absolutely no idea where I am most of the time. If there were a life or death situation where I had to choose between my cellphone and a person I would probably choose the phone (just kidding... But seriously). Okay you get the point, enough about the cell phone!

So it wasn't two minutes after the cab left that I realize she was missing. I was looking forward to some FaceTime chatting once I arrived home from dinner and had that feeling of dread when I reached into my purse and didn't find what I was looking for. I immediately sprint to the security gate and was very upset to find the cab had already left. I tell the security very articulately that I had been stupid enough to leave my cellphone in the taxi by repeating the words handpone and taxi and looking distraught (without the translator I have no idea how to communicate, but i digress).  The security guards here are awesome and immediately began calling Blue Bird (the taxi company) to find the whereabouts of my driver and now lost cellphone. After no luck getting through, It occurs to me about 20 minutes later to try and phone my phone. So I give security my number and someone actually answers. They speak to each other in Bahasa Indonesia for about 10 minutes then he hangs up.  Since my Indonesian is a little lacking, we walk to my neighbour Astu's house for a translation.  Apparently the cab driver has my phone and is going to return it but he is just dropping off some other people first.  Okay, I can handle that.  I head off to my house to wait for the speedy return of my most beloved prized possession.

Around 1am that night I get a call (for lack of a better word) from Astu, not so much a phone call but more of a yell from her window to mine, apparently the taxi driver will not be coming tonight to drop off my phone and instead will leave it at a taxi depot.  I'm not entirely comfortable with this idea.  Unfortunately, many people in Indonesia do not make a lot of money and that phone is worth a years salary to a taxi driver, so the idea of it changing hands again doesn't really enthuse me.  Really though, what choice do I have?  Another taxi will come in the morning and bring my phone to me.

Okay, next morning.  I sleep in obviously since I no longer have an alarm clock.  No worries, I wasn't planning on going to work anyway, I have way more pressing issues on hand to deal with.  Shortly after waking up there is a knock on the door.  The maid comes to get me and downstairs there are two of the security guards.  This is a pretty humourous situation because the security and my maid don't speak one word of English and my Bahasa Indonesia is limited to numbers and greetings.  They say words like taxi depot and handpone, so I assume these nice gentlemen are going to pick up my phone for me.  I hand them 500,000 rupiah ($50), they hop on the same motorcycle and head off immediately.  All I have to do is sit and wait right?

Around 2pm the men still haven't come back.  So I decide to walk up to the security gate and asses the situation.  Unfortunately, my memory of what these guys look like isn't so great so now I am starting to doubt whether they were even security at all.  They were wearing army fatigues and sometimes our security wears army fatigues so obviously you can see why I assumed they worked there.  When I get to the gate, I just say handpone, handpone over again until someone responds to me.  Malam was the reply, which means night in Indonesian.  Okay, I guess my phone isn't coming back until night.

Well, believe it or not that night around midnight I get a call at work from Astu saying that she has my iphone.  Ahhhhh, my baby has returned.

So, moral of the story?
1.  Don't leave your cellphone in a taxi
2.  Be patient because nothing happens fast in Indonesia
3.  If you live in a foreign country be sure to make friends with your English speaking neighbour

Indonesian Weddings

Shinta and Aji

Greeting the wedding party

I've been lucky and have had the chance to attend two weddings since I've been in Jakarta.  Last Sunday one of the girls I work with got married and invited everyone from the office for her big day.  It goes without saying that this isn't quite like the traditional North American wedding I'm used to, Indonesian weddings are short and sweet and they really don't involve too much of a time commitment.  We showed up at 11am, put some money in an envelope and formed a line to greet the bride, groom and family on the stage.  Once we finished our greeting (which is done by closing your hands as if you are praying and touching fingers tips) we ate from a huge buffet, then took a few pictures and left.  The whole ordeal was over by 1pm.  I guess when you don't serve booze there really isn't much else to do!  The outfits that the bride, groom and whole wedding party wear are amazing, and the decoration and food is outstanding, there is just so much attention to detail.  Definitely a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Karaoke

I'm sure everyone has heard the rumours about how much Asians love Karaoke, well Indonesia doesn't dissapoint that stereotype.  I've been dying to go since I got here and finally had a chance on Friday night with a few friends from work.  I'm not much of a singer, but the atmosphere is enough to make anyone have fun whether you sing or not.  We had one of those private rooms and cranked up the volume.  I'm convinced the sound system changes your voice a little to make it sound more like the artist who's song you're singing.  It was a great time and I can't wait until I get the chance to go again. 

I almost didn't want to post this picture out of fear that I'm becoming obsessed with the toilets here, but this one is too much of a gem to pass up.  No wonder I keep wiping foot prints off of the toilets wherever I go.  This sign was actually posted in the womens washroom at the karaoke place, just beside the urinal (go figure).

Sick - Indonesian Style!

Well, unfortunately I'm sick again.  I've been rather slack with this blog and don't update it on a regular basis so here is a quick recap of the first time.

I went out for my first nice dinner in Jakarta, and a nice dinner it was.  I had the fish (type unknown) and a glass of redwine.  The food was amazing and the atmosphere was just as good.  A few hours later, after I had returned home and was lying in my bed I had that familiar feeling (keep in mind I get sick a lot) of knowing I was going to throw up.  I don't know what is worse, immediately throwing up or having that hour of warning where you know it is going to happen and you just have to wait for it.  Actually, I'm pretty sure the waiting to throw up is a lot worse.  So the next few hours, which later turned into days I spent either throwing up, or transforming any liquid I might possibly have left in my body into a yellowish liquid to be expelled from by body the only other way.  It was horrible, and it took me 3 days to build up the strength to go to the hospital and see a doctor.   He didn't speak much english, and I don't speak much bahasa Indonesia so I'm not really sure what happened in there.  I do know that I left with 3 prescriptions, and a bill for $40 (and this was the expensive hospital).  He had given me Cipro to stop whatever it was that was invading and i'm convinced slowly taking over my body.

This experience had left me a little gun-shy when it came to eating the local food.  Since most of the stuff people buy comes off a cart with 3 wheels and a sold by someone that doesnt wear shoes, I dodn't feel the food is prepared in the most hygenic of ways.  Excluding anything sold on a street cart doesn't leave me with many food options. 

My first night on the rig I believe we were served goat, at least it looked like it might be goat.  I took a wrong turn on my way to the bathroom and ended up at the kitchen.  The meat was sitting out with more flies than I've seen in my entire life on it.  Needless to say I was vegetarian from that point on, at least on the rigs that is.  So, I went to the grocery store, bought milk, bread, peanut butter and soy joy bars and that's how I exist.  Every night at around 1am someone brings me a plate of nasi goreng (friend rice) to my unit and other than that I do not touch the local food.  Once burned twice shy kind of thing.  The picture attached shows a typical meal on the rig.

This morning I was so sick again.  And this time it was even worse.  Not so much the actual sickness that was worse, just the environment I was sick in.  There is nothing worse than throwing up in a hole in the ground.

My theory:  The lack of toilet paper or soap at the accomodation, and the guy cooking my nasi goreng.