J_29, 30,31 &32: A Lot of Catching Up, Awesome Pants and Too Much Good Food

Evening all! Apologies for the complete lack of blogs for the last few days - the internet at my kos died two days ago, although considering the router is dangling from the ceiling, swaying gently above our bathroom sink in the evening breeze, we're probably lucky to a) have had it fixed and b) not to have been electrocuted whilst being hygienic.

SO! Friday started out pretty cruisey, although I was a little sad to see my pornography law feature hadn't been published. I had just one feature to write that day, and it was a preview for the Deftones, so I figured it'd be easy to wing (write with PASSION, Alex!). I churned that out around 3:30pm and took off with Helena to go shopping for something nice to wear that night. Two or so hours later, I had managed to buy THE MOST AMAZING PANTS IN THE WORLD, which are genie-like puffy style yellow paisley, and rock my world, along with every other person's world that sees it (that sentence made sense. It was a...wait for it...sense-tence?)

We returned home exhausted, but not before having run into Peter, who was gazing thoughtfully at toy helicopters (he wanted to mount cameras on one, and we didn't ask what for) and after throwing on my Batik shirt as a dress (I had tights!) we headed to Face bar, where I knocked back 3 cocktails and some spring rolls (in that order) and found out we should have booked for Social House. Cue poor old Michelle having an extended talk with the Indonesian owner of the bar, and re-routing her taxi to us. Oh dear. We headed next door to the Indian restaurant and had a very nice, if very expensive, meal spent regaling Michelle with our train-jumping adventures, and moaning about the placements. My necklace consisting of a brass teapot and cup was much admired, and I got home feeling pretty good.

The next morning I had a sleep in, and then due to miscommunication, missed having lunch with a group of JPPers, so I headed in to get the Black Forest pancakes that had been tempting me all week (pancakes, cherry sauce, chocolate, cream, ice cream ohhhhhhhhhhh. Diet going well, as you can see) and then headed on the bus way for the first time with Josh and Helena. Most unfortunately, I checked a text from Michelle just as the others got on the first bus - hold up. Buses in Indonesia work like this. You walk over the steel busways that I've described many times before - where the beggars sit? By the way, busways are muy unhygienic - my total is now five men urinating at the base of the one closest to me. They are also not made to hold bule - our one's plates move alarmingly when I stand on them. So you walk up a big metal ramp that crosses above the main road, and in the middle is another steel ramp that goes down to the bus shelter, and at the end is the exit ramp to the other side of the road. You head down the middle ramp and purchase either a paper ticket, or a plastic one. The plastic you drop into the turnstile and move on into the little bus shelter, and the paper you keep and waltz on through the (broken) turnstile. Ah Indonesia.

You then wait by the open doors of the raised busway, and when the bus comes, it empties its passengers at one window, then moves forward to the loading window. You have to push a little sometimes, or at the very least, don't get separated from your friends by one old lady and then check your text. You will get left behind and realise you don't know where you're meant to get off, because Helena's the conscientious one. Luckily I had had the forethought to listen to Helena when she carefully instructed me as to which station we needed to get off at (and checked my phone when she texted me it) so I was fine, and even managed to get a seat. Don't run away with the impression that Helena's the only practical one here - I do useful things like booking restaurants and sorting out encroaching taxi drivers. In fact, anything to do with someone trying to gyp us, I generally handle. Some might call that 'cheap'. I prefer to think of it as proactive, and money enhanced.

I found Josh and Helena at the correct station and we caught another bus (it's 3500 rupiah for anywhere on the busway, as long as you don't leave the busway, which is pretty bloody cheap. It's just a pity the busway only goes certain places, and is really badly run, due to, you guessed it, korupsi). We got off at Pasar Baru, where Pud our guide took us the first weekend we were in Jakarta, and the feeling was very different - manageable, comfortable (up until some guy got his child to sucker punch Helena in the thigh. Ouchies. Apparently she was too shocked to do much except snake eyes the guy).

Pasar Baru, alas, didn't render us any of the pimp gear we were supposed to be finding that day, even after a good three hours of searching. Who knew bad taste gear would be so hard to find?!
We decided out of desperation to head to Ambassadur Mall, which was the theme of this blasted party anyway, and successfully caught not only the busway but then a mini bus (the little blue buses I talked about in my earlier posts), which I was pretty stoked about. There I found in quick succession a tiger beanie with a little tiger face on top, a truly hideous yellow leopard print necklace and yellow nail polish (thanks to Helena) and decided to forego the gangster pimp costume popularised by Snoop Dogg (FOR NOW - I had visions of a purple velvet suit, purple panama hat with feather, purple platforms, gold capped canine, encrusted pinky fingers heavier than yo crate, pimp sunnies and permed hair, sighhhh) and instead go as some weird tiger woman (bad taste indeed!) Josh settled on a bling necklace of a confused-looking panther and Helena had go-go girl earrings and a headband. We had beers and KFC - we were sorted. Unfortunately it was about 9:30 by this time, but we headed home for showers and headed out the door at about 10pm which was amazing hustle, I thought.

True to Indonesian form, there was a massive macet on the way so it took us an hour and we turned up really worried everyone would be leaving (we weren't sure about parties in Indonesia yet). Luckily, we had arrived at just the right time - just after a huge crowd of people, just before people were too drunk to move. A band was playing, the house was freaking HUGE (there was a baby grand piano! COME ON.) and everyone was in costume.

Needless to say, the New Zealanders carved up the dance floor, allll nighttttt longgggg. I may have pulled some particularly spectacular move in my puffy paisley pants of PERFECTION, and I may have forced all the JPPers attending AND the guy who invited us to perform their best Mick Jagger strut. I have no regrets. It was an excellent dance crowd, and everyone was giving it their all - good times, my friends, good times.

At about 3am we decided it would be a good plan to head home, with regret, since it was the first time in a long time I'd had a good dance, and it signalled the end of the dance crew, since the other five or so JPPers moved on to a club to show Jakarta how it's done.

The next morning I woke up late and got changed into my nicest gears to head to one of Jakarta's better eating establishments, Social House. We met up with Michelle and her friends Asi and Jess, from Bogor, and proceeded to order up a storm. I had a pizza called 'Salmon 2-way' and was quite disappointed when normal salmon pieces arrived on the pizza - I don't know what I was expecting, maybe whole salmon passionately entwined on my plate, but it certainly wasn't normal ol' salmon. Luckily for Social House, it was delicious, as was my cheesecake dessert - freshly made, I think. Yummmmm. Then I headed home for a fairly epic nanna nap, and a night spent eating chips and watching DVDs. Bliss.

Today was fairly casual - headed into the office late (I KNOW, I'm useless) and then spent the day researching the special section the interns are working on. I think I will have to get onto some more stories as I'm getting a bit bored, but it's nice after last week's panic to have nothing much to do. I organised a few interviews, read a few pages of a research book (online, obviously), messed around on facebook and then headed home. Now it's time to attempt my first run in Jakarta and then head to the supermarket for supplies, and dinner.

Catch you all tomorrow, when I plan to re-match Gina at pool.

LESSONS LEARNT 29, 30, 31 & 32:

- House parties man. Way too cool

- Dress up parties man. Ultimo cool

- Even when deathly tired, parties are worth attending

- JPPers. Too cool.

- Difficult subjects make the best journo fodder - my pornography law article got published today and even has some reader comments! Woot!

- Even if you hate it, you gotta have some hip hop for a party situation. It ain't nothing but a g thing baby

- Beer makes dancing easier, but less co-ordinated

- Paisley pants make everything better

- Pizza. So good right now.

J_28: Women's rights, complaining and nothing much else

Kia ora day trippers,

Another boring day today. All's I did was write up my other article, get invited to a bad taste party, get invited to Bali, and write another feature. All in a day's work, really.

So I was late AGAIN, but knuckled down to work after a VERY SHORT couple of hours procrastinating on facebook. I had all ready written about 500 words of my Rahima women's rights feature so today wasn't too much of a stress, even though I'd lost half my dictation from the interview - ay yah! On my desk was an invitation to some of the subs party that weekend, the theme of which is Ambassador Mall, which is kind of like a Savemart-style, loads of weird clothes, shop. So I'm thinking I might invest in a Panama hat and purple suit, if such things prove easy to find (oh, I'll make them easy to find, readers).

Then it was lunch with the head of the programme to check up on progress. I moaned a bit and I got the impression I was meant to deal with it, which I suppose is fair enough, and then got back to work, minus an iced mocchanino run later in the day. I really need to invest in this swimming pool everyone keeps talking about, so I can actually exercise off all the sweets and fantastic food I'm eating.

In the afternoon the Kiwi web editor and one of the former ACICIS students invited us Kiwi interns for a drink, so I went and had a beer with them and got to know them a bit better - they had been in Jakarta for the Marriott, which must have been pretty crazy - they said the blast shook the buildings around them, but that people kind of didn't really click something was wrong and continued on with their work, like the earthquake in Canterbury.

Then it was back to fix up my story a little, and then jetset home, but not before trying Dunkin Donut's croissant sandwiches (don't ask, and don't try - not so good) where I lazed around for haaagees and now plan to catch up with Helena. Tomorrow is on like Donkey Kong!

LESSONS LEARNT 28:

- Being friendly gets you party invites!

- Trying new things man, I cannot recommend it enough - Helena had a blast!

- Jakarta is not a good place to shop for togs - the ones I found have like leggings down to my knees

- My A/C is lame! I am SO HOT right now, and not in a fashion way!

J_27: Featuring comics and a cream bath

Aloha campers!

Today I was the first one to arrive in the office, despite being half an hour late - this 'manage your own time' thing is very seductive.

We had a meeting for our special section which I have done NOTHING on. The other problem is I felt incredibly ill the entire time, possibly due to this insipid parasite everyone has caught, or maybe just due to my family's awful stomach gene. So I rushed out half way through and my presentation of my part of the section did not go very well. I then had to rush out to an exhibition, and had a REALLY awkward lift conversation with my boss, where I babbled as I apologised for leaving the meeting. Oh dear.

The exhibition turned out to be in a cafe (!) but was very cute and had some real talent on display (and some real un-talent), so I tried to rush back to the office, the feature being due that day, but got stuck in a blasted macet. Indonesia, why must you play me like that?! I also succumbed to BK - fun fact, whoppers live up to their name in Indonesia. I couldn't finish it, nor could I finish the bizarre deep fried cheese stick.

Back at the office, I spent the rest of the day writing up the comic exhibition, had dinner in the food court and headed home, handing out apples and tripping up on paving stones as I went. When I got back to the kos, I managed to successfully tempt Helena into a cream bath at the salon next door, which was A-MA-ZING, very relaxing and lovely, and now my hair smells like avocado and is very clean and bouncy. Huzzah!

Tomorrow, I have yet another feature due, as I do for Friday, but then we're meeting up with Michelle for a night on the town!

LESSONS LEARNT 27:

- We've been in Jakarta for a month now! Tempus fugit, ay?

- I have terrible posture - I felt much better after the massage

- Spontaneous activities are awesome

- Food courts are NOT awesome to eat in

- BK is muy disappointing after delicious Indonesian food

- It's nice to be busy when you know what you're doing!

J_25&26: First feature and Grade A schmoozing

Buenos dias! This 'writing every day' thing is not going very well, but nezza mind, I will try harder...tomorrow, maybe...

SO Monday, I drifted into the office at 10am, which is my wonderful start time, and spent a day of writing my pornography law feature and frantically ringing people to check that what they said was right. One of the more subtle problems with the language barrier is that people here will often agree with what you've said to make you feel better, when they don't understand, which means real trouble later when you quote them on it. One of my interview subjects said twice that he didn't want to change Indonesian law, and then twice that he DID. He then told me that child pornography ownership is illegal in Indonesia, when a human rights lawyer told me it isn't. So I rang him to discuss this and he said "Yes yes yes, I agree that it is illegal. Yes it is. What? I'm not really listening to you, I'm in a meeting. I'm not actually sure, email me later about it." Not. Helpful.

Anyway I rang UNICEF to sort it out and they were AMAZING, getting me an expert opinion overnight that clarified everything (the law is fairly dicey and open to interpretation on the subject which is what caused the confusion) and I managed to write a semi-decent feature that I haven't yet heard any complaints about. Unfortunately I had to stay until 9pm to get it all written up, because we were told at the very last minute that when they say deadline at my paper, they actually mean the day before. Sigh.

So I got home really exhausted, but still managed to watch an episode of the Hills with Helena (don't ask, it's so dang addictive) and found out that the tiramisu ice cream I bought her to pay her back for eating hers has COFFEE in it and so she can't eat it, due to a severe lack of taste. Ay yah!

Due to my losing my phone, I have to get Helena to smash my door in every morning to wake me up, and this morning I could have sworn she DID knock on my door, because I woke up, thought "I'm way too tired for this" and decided that since my time was supposedly my own and I'd stayed at work an extra 3 hours to write my article, I would sleep in. When I woke up again, I had the impression it was 12pm and panicking, I booted up my computer to find it was actually only 8:20am - so who knows when I actually woke up originally. Of course, I fell back asleep in relief and was an hour late ANYWAY but luckily no one here gives a hoot when you turn up since we're contributing work for free, as long as you get your deadlines on time.

Today was spent trying to write up another feature and planning for tomorrow, which is going to be a really busy day - I need to go to a meeting about our special section, which I've done nothing on, and then go to an exhibition and interview the curator/some artists, and then write the story up. Um. Do-able, right?

At about 5pm I got a call from the head of the JPP course (or rather, Helena got the call) and she said she'd heard I'd lost my phone and that this wasn't allowed - apparently ACICIS needs a number they can contact me on in case of emergencies (such as the bombing of a Western-frequented hotel...). I refrained from pointing out that if I were in a position to not contact my family myself, I probably would also be unable to use my cell phone even if it were on me (besides, I don't have the insurance deal that gets your coffin flown home) and agreed to purchase a new phone ASAP and she would drop me off an old phone of hers to use until Friday, when Michelle will be coming to visit Jakarta, bringing with her my PHONE! (And, unfortunately, my old simcard, which she somehow also got off the shady Bogorian driver, legendary).

Then it was off to the NZ ambassador's house for dinner! To be honest with you, we had all expected someone's apartment, some beers, jandals and a very laid back, casual dinner. But the ambassador's residence is HUGE - marble doors, 12 person dining table, pool, massive mirror in the entrance way, chandeliers, and WINE! Ohhhh, to taste that delicious liquid again! We DID have a BBQ, but it was true "let's try the natives food, darling, ho ho" style, with perfectly grilled chicken, bratwurst salmon - everything was DELICIOUS and so nice to have after weeks of Indonesian food (which is delicious, but it was nice to have a taste of home).

The ambassador was an intelligent, lovely guy and not snake-like at all, as I have found with other ambassadors. He was very definitely a diplomat, but I found it refreshing that he could be somewhat candid about certain questions. It was also really lovely that he had hosted a dinner where three lowly NZ journo students were the guests of honour - we felt very abashed! (That's a word.)

I met lots of distinguished people - the deputy editor of Tempo, Indonesia's best investigative journalism magazine, journalists who have been in the business for 40 years, some during Suharto's era, Tempo workers who had won journalist of the year for confronting officials about their corruption. I didn't realise it at the time, but the ambassador had obviously invited a whole heap of his contacts he thought we'd be interested in. We all felt distinctly underdressed too, since we'd had to come straight from work, and I had had to wear my not-so-posh trousers, everything else being in the wash (I'd planned to wear my fancy work skirt, but had been walking home last night when I passed an ojek driver fiddling with his chest. Random, but I thought nothing of it until I felt something warm splash the arm opposite him. I turned to confront him in confusion, only to see him looking up in indignation into the tree above me. So, did a monkey urinate on me? Was there someone in the tree? I don't know, but I threw the clothes into the wash when I came home and scrubbed my arm raw.) I had a wonderful night and it was lovely to connect with Kiwis, and to have a really nice dinner with some nice booze on the side.

So I am a satisfied trooper tonight, what with a freezer full of ice cream too, but fingers crossed I can get this feature done for tomorrow, and then the one for the next day, and the day after that. That's right, four features in one week. Friday, I am going to be free!

LESSONS LEARNT 25 & 26:

- When the dress code says casual/smart for an embassy, go for smart, rather than casual

- Wine helps conversation flow

- Social skills are very important

- Ambassadors are fascinating to watch in awkward social situations, like master ice skaters, whirling around and performing conversational pirouettes.

- NZ is a great little country, but we're so very little compared with our neighbours

- Try not to mention how your diplomats have failed you in the past...

J_22, 23 & 24: An upside, and BOGOR!

Aloha readers! I'm sorry for the lack of updates, but as you must know by now, weekend blogging is not my strong point...

Let me begin from the beginning, but first a caveat: Tonight's post will be a monster!

Friday went well - I got up super early (read, 7am) to get to a 9am interview early and ended up at the House of Parliament a half hour before the interview, so I had a coffee and prepared my questions. An hour and three quarters later (and thus over an hour late), my interviewee came in, mentioned the traffic briefly, and we got down to business. There is a very famous Indonesian phrase that has slipped my mind in true Wooster style but translates as rubber time, which bules (rude word for white foreigners) tend to find infuriating but must learn to deal with. However it DOES mean that, apart from the drivers, everything is very laid back in Indonesia. Anyway the interview went well and means I may be able to save my story - it was all about how certain parties had pushed for the child pornography loophole (that if it is for personal use, it's legal - scary) to be closed in Indonesia but that politics had basically muddled the law and allowed the loophole through by accident.

Then it was back to the office to do some research before getting a driver I had sneakily booked that morning to take me an hour out of Jakarta, to interview the director of a Muslim woman's rights group, who was LOVELY. We talked for a good two hours and then I ojeked back to Jakarta. It took an hour and a half, and while I loved it, I got a very numb bottom and my hands vibrated for hours afterwards. I tried to take a video of it but when I nearly lost the camera (and the bike) I decided to stop.

I was so tired by this point (it was 6pm) that I decided to have a quiet night and bought a very naughty pizza (sounds like a strip tease involving a dancing pizza slowly removing pieces of salami...) and garlic bread and watched DVDs until 11pm, then did the most stupid thing I've done in a long time - tied my mosquito net to a bottle of beer and a bottle of balsamic vinegar. I remember having a moment of doubt and then thinking, those look pretty heavy. Idiot. Cue getting into bed, rearranging the net slightly and hearing two huge bottles smashing from a great height. Then cue tiptoeing across a glass-strewn floor and cleaning up beer, vinegar and shards of glass for an hour with the only thing available, my towel. The walls of my room have been stained with drips of vinegar, so it looks like I killed someone with brown (stinky) blood. SIGH.

The next morning I got up at 5am, as the plan was to head out to Bogor to visit Michelle and have a relaxing weekend in the country. I got to the train station as instructed well before six but hit our first snag when it turned out that the train to Bogor didn't leave from that station. Some others turned up and we headed to the next station along via taxi (our guy taking us to the next station after THAT in order to get more money. Bastard.) Then Peter, Jack and I jumped on a train that had every seat filled, the doors wide open as it moved (no air con), and at one point, a small hole rusted through the floor. It was also filled with vendors selling anything from papers and MASSIVE lighters to towels. We jumped off at one station to meet other JPPers, but they insisted the NEXT train was the one we wanted, so we left them to it - foolishness! Their train was air conditioned and had seats. However, ours was very cheap and had a lot more life to it - at one point a band got on and played for a couple of stops, very cool.

We hopped off an hour later and met Michelle and her friends Asi and Jess, who would prove life savers later on as they could speak fluent Bahasa and had infinite patience. We all piled into two cars, seven of us in each, and set off for Bogor, stopping only to take in the view (beautiful - high up a mountain, mist below us and rows and orderly rows of dark green tea plants) and for me to squish into the back in order to stop one of the other girl's moaning (she had taken a Valium, which hadn't seemed to help). Then we headed off to our guesthouse in the Pancak Pass area, which was run by Balinese people and was just beautiful. It had a dining area whose veranda looked out into the valley of green green trees, insects everywhere and a series of ponds and water wheels below us, and mist up into the mountainous distance. It also had those Arabian raised sitting things, with cushions, that could fit about 6 people, which we all took turns at utilising. Our rooms were fine - I topped and tailed with Michelle and kept her up too late talking - and over looked the valley too, and everything was green and mossy - the bricks were covered in them and had random archways, it was like an old ruin in some places. I saw a squirrel creature with a weird nose, a HAND-SIZED bright yellow spider (gross) and I fed the huge goats with curling horns carrots - they were kept in little wooden boxes which seemed cruel - I hope they were just locked up for strangers. One of the goats kept making burping noises when we were there - whenever conversation stalled you could hear "Barrrrrrrp".

After we got settled in and ordered lunch - I got a delicious chilly green bean concoction - I headed to the main road by myself to get more money out of the ATM, and then proceeded to climb the mountain to get to the markets and botanical garden at the top, to meet the others. I really need to exercise more - my thighs were aching, I was drenched in sweat, and I had to stop a couple of times, but it WAS a pretty steep incline. My progress wasn't helped by the village children who would gamely run up and down the 45 degree slopes, one of whom said "Hello bule" at me, cheeky so and so. They would ALL say "Hello Mr!", whole tribes of children, and lounging men, and giggling teenage boys pushing each other toward me - I was a real oddity, it was like the circus came to town (plus I felt like an elephant, puffing and blowing as I was). It got very very annoying very quickly, and I felt quite attacked after a while, but the walk was LOVELY - sunshine, mountains in the distance, quiet little houses, little crooked stone steps leading to their doors, and bajillions of tiered gardens - Mum would've loved it, they were all carefully tended and had heaps of different plants. As I walked, at one point prayers started and the singer was very good - haunting and lilting, great atmosphere music.

I reached the markets and walked the wrong way, reaching the National Park before I turned around. Then I bought carrots to feed the ponies I could see walking up and down the mountain, and headed to the botanical gardens, where no one was insight. By this time I was exhausted, so I headed back to the guesthouse, giving in and jumping in a little yellow van that served as the mountain's bus service, similar to the blue mini cabs in Jakarta - very cheap, stops where you want it to. I was again impressed with how nice Indonesians are - the people in the bus told the driver when to stop for me, and told me how much to pay him. I got out at the guesthouse to find that the others had done the opposite to me - bussed up, walked down, just missed them. Ah well.

By this time it was late afternoon, so we ordered coffee, waited for the others to turn up, and then watched Ananya eat banana pancakes, deciding as we did to order them for breakfast. The others showed up with this fairly greasy guide in tow, who kept trying to get us to hire him, and telling us he'd give us special prices like 100,000 each (so about 1,000,000 in total) to guide us to a FREE, EASILY MARKED waterfall. He also kept wanting to come to dinner with us and get in our cars...very creepy.

We wandered down the road in the pitch black in order to find dinner - even though Pancak Pass is in the country, basically, it's still quite a busy little road we were on, and we had to walk single file a lot of the time to avoid getting hit by over-eager drivers and bikers. It was a warm night and the crickets were out in force, and the air was so fresh, after bloody Jakarta - it was lovely. However, dinner was a bit disappointing - we went to a banquet place and they gave us far fewer dishes than usual, and they all tasted horrible, and there was no stewed duck! My heart broke. It was a nice place though, and the trip was worth it for the Cornettos we bought at the store next door. Then it was a walk uphill in the dark, avoiding the massive potholes and listening to the little streams that occasionally flowed alongside the road. Back at the guesthouse, I realised I'd left my phone in the hire car, resolved to get it tomorrow, and headed to have a cold shower (BLISS) and get into bed, where I talked Michelle's ear off (it was great to see her again!) and then slept like a LOG until about 8pm. Apparently I talked in my sleep, and I did have weird dreams, but it was so good to climb into bed after 5 hours sleep the previous night, 5am start, and a long walk in the sun.

This morning was overcast (it rains something like 350 days of the year in Bogor) and the scenery still beautiful. We ordered banana pancakes...and 1o minutes later ordered another round. Unfortunately because the owners had to make them from scratch, it took ages to get the last pancakes, by which time it was 12, our drivers had arrived, and I'd ascertained that my phone had been taken by the driver's friend who'd taken the car the night before (my phone had been turned off, and I'd had full battery). The driver promised to find out from his friend if he had it, and with that we took off to see the markets and botanical gardens for those who hadn't seen it. When we got out of the car, we started to move off as a group, when I saw one of the horses from the day before. Unfortunately, his hip bones were sticking out and could be seen very clearly through his skin, and Peter told me after the horse had taken two steps with me on his back that it was animal cruelty, and I had to agree. I hopped off and fed the horse the entire bag of carrots I'd bought, and he seemed marginally more alert.

Then I headed to the gardens and after about five minutes, caught up with Michelle and the others, Peter having attracted a toothless old man who insisted on following the girls around asking them to kiss him. Sigh. It was decided that we would skip the botanical gardens and head to the tea plantation to have lunch, as the gate to Pancak Pass closes at 3pm (and wouldn't open again until 6pm - apparently they only let tourists in at set times, then locals, then tourists....very interesting). Michelle talked to our driver in Bahasa, he nodded and agreed that he would drive to pick up Dana et al from the garden's entrance, and then go to the address she gave him. She repeated the instructions, the driver said he understood, and then tried to leave the Gardens without picking up Dana and her friend Steve. Not wanting to pay another 30000 rupiah fee to get back in for all of ten seconds, we all called out and explained the situation to him again (twice) and we picked up Dana, went to get her luggage, and then headed to the tea plantation. A good hour or so later, we arrived at the rockiest road I've ever seen that ran along a sheer cliff off the mountain. We bounced along the road, feeling distinctly nauseous, and then waited tensely as the driver backed right to the edge of the cliff and then stopped. We all hopped out and climbed a short path to find we were on top of a peak that overlooked the entire valley. The top was paved with garden tiles and had rounded edges that just dropped off into space - people were paragliding off the top of the peak for 50,000. But alas, time was short (and perhaps Indonesian health and safety not SO great) and we had realised the driver had taken us to the wrong place. We rang Michelle, whose phone had died, and then we rang someone else, to ring the other driver, to ring OUR driver (who had taken off to take in the view himself) and explain just where the hell they were. Unfortunately, we were just out of time, and decided to head for Bogor before the gate's closed. We explained this to our driver, without much hope, and all seven of us jumped back in the car, when the driver let go of the hand brake and took his foot off the brake, letting the car slide backwards off the cliff.

I'm not even kidding - the car rolled back for a good two seconds, and our back wheels went off the edge, before the driver braked. The entire car, including the boys screamed, the driver put the car in 1st as we all clung to seats and tried to take in what was happening, those lucky enough to be sitting on the sides grabbed the door's handles to jump out (I was in the very back) and the driver revved the car for a heart stopping 2 seconds until the back wheels found purchase on God knows what and we lurched back to safety. The driver then LAUGHED.

I yelled "Don't laugh!" and him and then said "Hati hati!" (Be careful!) which probably wasn't much help considering he spoke Sudanese or some other language beginning with 'S', apparently. He then headed back down the bumpy road and back to Bogor, where we got stuck in stand still traffic for a good hour and then experienced true Indonesian driving when the driver and several other cars drove on the wrong side of the road for extended periods of time at 100kmh and more.

Back at Bogor, we stopped off at a really cute cafe with a view of the volcano, complete with its massive chunk of top missing, mist, little orange cottage roofs and kites flying high in the sky. I ordered pizza and beer and took a walk to the bridge to see the sunset - bright pink and orange, listen to the prayers at 6pm from the mosque and then BATS started flying and flapping from tree to tree, big ones, small ones, ones as big as your head! Very cute, they were chittering all the while.

After dinner we farewelled Michelle and hopped in the cars to head to the station which was 2 minutes away. 15 minutes later, we told our driver 'train station' in Bahasa three times, and finally made it to the station, the idiot behind the wheel having taken us the long way for no reason. Yes, we had to pay this goon who had nearly killed us. He probably still has my phone.

We said goodbye to Asi and Jess, who had come with us to help us negotiate tickets, and then we got on a train. Unfortunately, there were 4 trains at the station, and everyone was on the one furtherest from us, leaving in ten minutes. Cue leaping from trains down to train tracks, scrambling up into another empty train, jumping across space to another train and then arriving in the right train only to be told it was the wrong one, leaping back to the third train, being told by four different people, four different places it was going and then finally deciding to get back on the fourth train with everyone else, because it was leaving first, and it was air conditioned. I abandoned the boys to sit in the special women's carriage (not sure why there's a women's carriage?) and found the other girls who said we were on the right train and they'd tell us when to get off.

An hour later, I farewelled the others and taxied back to the kos, where I regaled Helena with my tales and was devoutly grateful I'd cleaned up the beer and vinegar before I left. Now it's off to sleep, in order to write 1000 words tomorrow. Ay yah!

LESSONS LEARNT 22, 23 & 24:

- Bogor is beautiful!

- There is nothing more relaxing then getting back to nature, and fresh air

- Mosquitos here are insidious - I've been bitten four times on my TOES of all places just writing this

- Travelling with people is more fun than alone

- Being alone can be good

- Exercise is a Good Thing

- Sleeping after a long day is AMAZING, as is a cold shower after exercise

- Squat toilets are not half bad - better for your bowels/bladder, apparently

J_21: Interviews, frustration with traffic, stories and procrastination

Hello troopers

Today's blog is not a happy one. Jakarta has not treated me kindly today, I have to say. Or at least, my newspaper has been giving me ills of the dark kind.

This morning started with an hour-long ojek ride to my first interview. I hadn't realised it was so far away, and was getting quite worried by the time we pulled up - to a set of rickety shacks with the number '35' spray painted on their side. I was pretty sure the head of a National Commission into Children's Protection wasn't going to live in no shack, so I shook my head at the ojek rider and said 'tiga tiga' (three three). He stopped the motorbike about 4 times, asking various people for directions, and some 20 minutes later we arrived at my destination. This is how crazy house numbers are in Jakarta - 33 is about 20 minutes down the road from 35. Very confusing, and another strike against walking. Anyway we finally arrived and although by my watch we were on time, I was ten minutes late by the office clock, and out of change to boot. Whilst I negotiated with the random men hanging around the office, and then told my ojek driver I was going to give him more money for the longer distance (he was all ready charging me an exorbitant 30,000) with him cursing at me and leaving in a huff, the secretary was telling my respected interviewee I had arrived. Since my story idea has since fallen through, and his English was not great, his expression soon began to fall from polite interest to fairly cold disapproval, and I can't say I blame him - my questions were fairly scatty and I was very glad to get up and go. I also have failed miserably to sort out business cards, which is proving a huge problem here, as business cards are the norm.

I bought myself a sustaining coke (gross) and hopped in a taxi. An hour later, I made it back to my work, spending almost the entire time in a traffic jam. VERY frustrating. I again got ripped off by the driver but I was really tired and quite worried at this point - my LOs, understandably enough, had texted me to say they were busy this afternoon and couldn't come interview DVD vendors with me. I then received an email from the head of the course saying I shouldn't be involving them anyway, as this would put them in dangerous situations, since they might get attacked for asking about pornography (and that the story seemed fairly undo-able. Problem is, I've all ready pitched it and have it on the schedule for next Thursday's deadline). This made me somewhat nervous when my editor told me to go out and ask some vendors myself in English and for once in Indonesia I had absolutely no luck in finding DVD vendors, which probably had everything to do with my enthusiasm or lack thereof. I decided to walk in the vague direction of the Old Port since some of the other JPP students said they saw carts and carts of pornographic DVDs there, but it was when my shoe exploded at the seams and left my toe poking out and the sole flapping every time I took a step that I decided to go home.

I've been here ever since, trying to nerve myself to write this story that I know is not going to work, and that I'm pretty sure the editor will can/try and make me re-write at short notice. On a more cheerful note, though, when I was walking over the busway bridge - a huge metal beast that straddles about six lanes of a highway and is completely covered with makeshift stalls, consisting of blankets with wares laid out on them and cardboard signs with prices. This is also where the beggars live - I saw the beggar lady with the baby was using my baby bottle, complete with dancing monkeys, yellow cap and phrases like 'This is a banana!', as a juice bottle, so that was really nice to see!

With that, I'm off to try and write some more before collapsing into bed and getting up early to interview a politician. Then it's off to the West of Jakarta to interview the head of a women's rights group, who confidently told me the journey would take about 2 hours by taxi because of the traffic.

LESSONS LEARNT 22:

- Thoroughly research ideas before pitching them

- Make sure you can tell the difference between the numbers three and thirty

- Get a job you love and can do to save on angst

- People can be giant flakes sometimes

- Illness in Jakarta is best checked out if it carries on too long; the dreaded parasite has struck a few more people

- Things are always worse for someone else

J_19 & 20: Phones that don't work and email tag, social faux pas

Malam!

So I'm sorry for the lack of update yesterday - my determination to write every day is failing, ay me!

Yesterday was spent playing email tag with various Indonesian contacts - I don't think email is very commonly used here in Indonesia, or at least not as commonly as in New Zealand - in NZ I'd check my email several times a day, but I think here is more like once every two days! I also attempted to ring people for my two story ideas that are in the actual Features schedule and thus DUE NEXT WEEK (least the paper have an empty page) but had massive problems with getting through, or with people speaking English - something our course co-ordinators did rather skirt over in the two week introduction course.

An interesting thing here is that texting before calling does seem to be the way to go - people will either text you back to say you've got the wrong person and to try so-and-so, an expert in the field, or they'll text back interview times/calling times. It's very convenient, although a little frustrating when you haven't heard back from anyone and so end up sitting staring at your phone for hours on end.

I do actually have other stories I could be working on, but they're not due for a while and I'm one of those idiotic personalities that, once I'm stressed about something, I have to resolve that stress. It's a waste really BUT I have managed to conduct an interview tonight and have one tomorrow morning and the morning after that. I am trying to persuade my LOs from ACICIS to take me to some DVD vendors, to interview them about pornography (I'm sure I'll get nowhere, but I need to say I've at least GONE for my feature idea, plus my editor keeps telling me to SIGH). The only problem is, I'm really not sure whether the original premise (a loophole) exists or not, or how many words I can get out of it. At the very least, my colleagues have gotten much enjoyment out of laughing at me for going into DVD stores and asking if they have pornographic DVDs "Uh, National Geographic??". When I told the subs that that was what I'd been doing, they all looked at me in disbelief, and the guy next to me laughed for a good couple of minutes. Le Sigh.

After a fairly stressful afternoon where I sat at my desk moaning to people and frantically ringing numbers that wouldn't work, I met up with one of the LOs Panda, who is a graffiti artist in Indonesia and a bit of an all-round Indy artisto (I made that word up, because he's cool and anything Mexican sounding is automatically arty and awesome). He gave me the name of a sweet-as non-profit company that has a house in Jakarta with different art displays every fortnight, and also some Indonesian Indy bands - for those of the Indy persuasion, apparently White Shoes and the Couples Company, and Goodnight Electric. I'm not into Indy, but I'm into new experiences, so I'll have to chickity check them out. Panda also told me my pornographic enquiries were useless, as the vendors would be too afraid of the police to talk to me - ay me! He very sweetly offered to ask FOR me if I wrote them down, which I'm fairly sure is a breach of journalistic ethics and also, may scar him for life. Hmmmm.

Then it was back to the grind and an escape at 6pm to have dinner with Trish and Gina, two other JPPers, both of whom seem to have caught this weird parasite that's going around and APPARENTLY can give you brain damage if you leave it too long (don't get all up in scorn's arms about this, medicos, I think the doctor was trying to say that if left long enough, parts of the parasite enter the blood stream and are carried to the brain. I don't know though, I'm only saying that cos I watched a documentary on parasites, where this one guy had a leech in his NOSE for about a WEEK. Grosssssssssss). Dinner was nice - I had weird beef jerky (gross), weird sweet nut-and-muesli type thing (not that great), nice steamed yellow rice in banana leaf and a DELICIOUS green bean stirfry with lemon - yummm! Must buy recipe book.

Tonight, I finally managed to pin down my first interview, and Helena donated some money to the beggar lady with the baby (who is much better!) which was really lovely of her, I thought. She also walked the entire way home with a mask on haha and looked like a fashionable, feminine ninja, since the mask is pink with a poppy on it.

Tomorrow it is off to interview the head of the Children's Protection Commission so I'd better get some sleep. Fingers crossed the interview turns up some journalistic gold!

LESSONS LEARNT 19 & 20:

- Sleep is wonderfulllll

- Not speaking the language makes being a journalist very difficult!

- People really can be lovely - lots of my fellow JPPers who are at NGOs etc have sent me story ideas they can't use

- Texting people in Indonesia for interviews? A-okay

- Mixing in some (polite) Bahasa gets you everywhere

- You never know until you've tried something! Emailing random lawyers in Oz proved very useful, despite my not paying a consultation fee/being some complete random

- Having others who are efficient around you when you're not is TERRIFYING

J_18: First day and more shopping. That's about it, really.

Get low to tha floor (you scared, you scared),

Don't ask. It's pretty much a traditional greeting in ah, LilJohnTown. Anyways, today I am exhausted, despite having sat in an office all day. I suppose nervous tension can be quite wearing (apparently in the neck department - mine is KILLING me! But this may have just been from the half hour my head spent between my knees on Saturday. Le sigh).

I woke up at 9 today, since my paper doesn't start work until 10am, as any good newspaper should. Bliss! Had an overly-waxed apple, packed my bag with my lead-like computer and headed across the bridge to meet my co-intern Sarah early for a take away coffee and a quick read of the paper in preparation. I should have learnt by now that Jakarta doesn't suffer plans: when we got to the mall - yes, we work in Semanggi, that blasted mall I've been complaining about spending too much time in; oh irony, you fell beast! - it was closed! Apparently things in Indonesia don't open before 10am? Anyway, Dunkin Donuts, that bastion of Western values, was, so we got our coffee there (not great but okay) and headed up when the doors finally opened. We were shown to our desks and had our own little Macs installed (saweet) and were told to play around on them until 11 (can do) when we met our mentor, let us call him Dave, for libel/visa regulation reasons. Anyway Dave is American and AWESOME - he seems like a cool, onto it guy, and likes terrible puns so I'm down with the Man. He went through our story ideas, and I felt a wee bit ashamed at my airy topics compared with Sarah's well-researched, well-thought out ideas but he approved some of mine, so that was a good start. Then we had a meeting about our special section that the newspaper produces with the interns every year - this year is a bit daunting, but I shall keep it underwraps until production time, in case any shark-like journos are reading this...

At any rate, I was signed up to do some articles for THAT, and then we met with the features team and ran ideas past THEM. I once again was outshone (SIGH) as Sarah was ON FIRE (our other intern, Ben, being ill today, poor guy) but got a few ideas pushed through including one I'm terrified about doing - a feature investigating a loophole in the Pornography Law here mentioned by a lecturer, who said the loophole allowed ownership of child pornography, which is pretty disturbing. To make matters worse, an updated schedule of the features desk was sent through that has my ideas on them - so it's all set in concrete now! Time to woman up and be a real journalist, I guess.

After that it was more research, looking up contacts/emailing people, meeting some people around the office (everyone seems really lovely and helpful - one guy helpfully told me a better translation sight than Google Translate (not difficult) and another obligingly took my unwitting coffee order (ay caramba, I'M the intern!) and Helena's mentor, from another magazine entirely, looked up and gave me some contacts for a story - what a guy!), planning tomorrow and basically, filling in time until home time, since I don't have any contacts replying at the mo and no scheduled interviews. Tomorrow I will have to get onto ringing/meeting people and negotiating their English/my Bahasa.

As it is, I rounded off the day doing a bit of extra shopping in the mall - I needed a diary and I decided I wanted a shoulder bag, so I'd look more professional and less like I was going to school. Then it was home for a dinner of beans, snow peas, cherry tomatoes and tuna in balsamic vinegar and garlic sauce. It's nice, but not great (unsurprisingly) - I'm trying to make things I don't have to cook, since we don't own any pots and pans, but with loads of veges = quite difficult! Might have to give gado-gado a go....

There is a bit more to say about the office and the beggar children on our street who are frankly just capitalizing on my general guilt complex, the crazy toothless old man who grabs my arm when I walk past and proposes to Helena, but I am tired and my neck ACHES so until tomorrow, maties, wish me luck!

LESSONS LEARNT 18:

- Journalism is a pretty mint career, just so long as my stories pan out and don't get ripped to shreds by the subs

- My office is full of pretty darn nice people

- Sore necks are the WORST

- Nasi Goreng loses its appeal after the fifth time you've eaten it

- So does tuna!

- Jake Gyllenhaal doesn't. Ever.

J_15, 16 & 17: Mi scusi! Preparations and how they are undone: Sickness and Sleep.

Many apologies for the inconvenience! I haven't written for TWO DAYS now, whatta duck. I have a fairly good excuse, but not really. Let me get to the extended explanations.

Friday I woke up early, TOO EARLY, and got ready to cram for our Bahasa test. Our awesome teacher Kristin let us sneak out of class one by one to fuel our brains with the free coffee on offer down the hall. True to my style, I opened the wrong door onto a bewildered and annoyed looking man, possibly in a classroom full of other bewilderbeasts, and left hurriedly, but not before confusedly saying makasi (thanks!) instead of maaf (sorry!). Brilliant.

The test went pretty well, I think. I tried some flashy tricks but considering the limitations of my Bahasa, that may not have been the best idea. The last 'translate this' sentence was, 'Kami akan ingat kalian' - We will remember all of you. Awwww. So sweet.

ACICIS hosted us lunch, which was delicious, and people swapped answers, as inevitably and universally happens after tests. "What does menikah mean? I wrote fried?" "It means married bro." "Bugger...". Then we headed in for a conference with our project leader, Sunny, to bounce ideas off her and check on vital dates/key points/last minute questions. We had a bit of a complain about the Unilever production and then happily spilled out into the city early, to go shopping for the projected Thousand Islands trip the next day. I bought two pairs of new shoes for 70,000 rupiah (approx $10) and while one pair is far too small, I'm going to cram my feet into them until they stretch because they're beautiful! All red and white stripes and bows, like a 1940s beach ad. I also bought a singlet top because I've been CRAVING beachy/summery/light clothes since I got here. I also also got beer (more on this later).

After we'd caught up on emails etc Helena and I left for Face bar, and met up with our fellow journos there. We all ascertained there was no gossip to be had in our group after the guy I'd kind of thought was the most professional one of the lot of us sat the group down and said "Right, who's got gossip?" It was hilarious and a great way to get to know everyone better - and also, gossip is fully what journalism revolves around.

After this, Helena and I left to go to karaoke, which was meant to be a farewell for Michelle, who was leaving to the South of Jakarta to do her practicum with Cifor, the forestry group here in Indonesia - very high profile, I think. Unfortunately, when we got there, our head LO Fikrik (he of the amazing voice) said the place was booked until 10pm, so Helena, Fikrik's friend Ricky, Gina and later the LO Debbie and I played pool for an hour or so to fill in time. We were alternately awesome (I sank two in a row twice!) and terrible (everyone popped the white off the table except ME! But I made plenty of other horrific shots). Then it was karaoke time and luckily about 7 others from the class turned up (keeping costs down since '87). Fikrik had booked the VIP suite which had its own freaking bathroom, and we were off! Cut to 3 hours later, when we finally made it home with no voice left and I was full of Sangria, having rashly split a jug with Michelle.

Four hours after I put my head to the pillow, I was up to catch the 5:45am taxi to the port for our Thousand Islands adventure. Unfortunately, probably from a combination of drinking, not enough sleep all week and maybe a touch of the flu, I started fainting whilst trying to get cash out of the ATM. I made it to the taxi but spent the entire 30 minutes with my head between my legs or out the window, unable to talk to the others, because my mouth had gone numb and tasted minty (?!). I broke out in cold sweats, which was pretty awful and my stomach started cramping - so pretty much one of the worst taxi rides ever. So when we pulled up to the port, complete with streets and streets lined with fish being gutted, I kind of decided I wasn't going to make the boat ride and the others got out while I lay down on the back seat and asked the driver to "kembali ke Benhil" (return to Benhil). There was a heart stopping moment where he seemed to be telling me to find another taxi (Lady, I LIKE hanging out in Fish Central!) but luckily he took me home, and I passed out until about 4pm, waking up every so often to text concerned Ozzies (very nice of them) and concerned Helenas (very lovely of her) before zonking out again.

So not wonderful, but when I got up I felt much better and was even hungry! I decided I wanted to do SOMETHING and get out of the house, so I taxied to this Japanese restaurant one of the girls had been talking about. It was nice to get out, but the restaurant wasn't particularly great and the taxi was insanely expensive, due to the macet (traffic jams) that are a constant fixture in Jakarta. So I returned home to sleep some more, and get up this morning (late, naturally) with the determination to a) catch an ojek (motorbike ride) and b) buy a dictaphone.

Walking down the street, I was a little nervous - the ojek drivers are quite aggressive, but there didn't seem to be any now (of course). I knew there was a huge group on the corner of my road, because they always mob me when I walk to Uni, and I didn't really want to walk into the middle of them and say, "Ojek!" I was afraid I might be crushed. Luckily (or maybe not) a driver on the other side of the road caught my eye and scooted over. I say maybe not, because he fully ripped me off but I put the spare helmet on (the strap was broken - sorry Mum and Dad) and clambered onto the back, and we were OFF. And it was BRILLIANT! I cannot recommend ojek as the way to get around more. It's quicker, since they can weave in between traffic, it's FUN, because you're hanging on perilously and whizzing past things and bobbing and turning, and the drivers are actually very good, having grown up driving in Jakarta - they are careful to drive slowly for you and they adjust to Western women's rather larger weight (I think I weighed about 15kg more than my driver. Sigh).

A cool 10-15 minutes later (it took us 30 by taxi for three times as much) we arrived at Ambasdur Mall and I went to look for some lunch and a dictaphone. I sneakily bought Blade 3 (oh Wesley!) and Prince of Persia (oh Jake! Plus, you can fully pick the moves as the movie progresses - see how he's jumping up the wall, bouncing on the barrel and swinging to the parapet? X, X, O, Square, L2 X) and then headed to Pizza Hut (I knowww but I've been craving pizza for a while) and pigged out on the TINIEST pizza I've ever seen - slightly bigger than a CD (meant to be for 2 people, I ask you!), garlic bread and a coke. After successful usage of a squat toilet, which are very good for your legs and quite easy to use (did you want to know that?!) I hunted high and low for a reasonably priced dictaphone. The cheapest was 800 000 rupiah, which is about $100, COME ON! Indonesia is meant to be the land of cheap electronics! Anyway just as I was about to buy the expensive piece of metal and plastic, I found a little sneaky electronics shop which I suspect is a second hand/fell off the back of the truck type deal, who sold me an MP3 player that doubles as a recorder for 220,000 rupiah, with a one week guarantee (so trustworthy!) So we'll see how my budgetness goes.

Then it was time to buy some groceries, hand out apples to children begging on the street (one of whom had a monkey on a chain, sigh) who said "Thank youuuu" and then ojek home, for which I was still ripped off, but less so than before. The driver took me through the back streets of Benhil, which looked very poor - thin wooden shacks by the very dirty river, dirt instead of roads or pavements, cats everywhere. But it also looked quite nice, and not like it was the desperate end of poor - everyone was sitting around talking to each other, or playing in the courtyards, or sitting by a big tub filled with goldfish. It was nice.

Back at the kos, the others had returned, so we swapped stories (the island sounded lovely but I don't think I would have survived the boat ride by the sounds of it) and I tidied my room. Tonight, the goal is to find dinner and then prepare for tomorrow, when we start work proper and find out all about being a journalist in Jakarta. Wish me luck!

LESSONS LEARNT 15, 16 & 17:

- Don't stay out late when you have a big day the next day, and feel slightly off colour anyway!

- Ojeks are the only way to travel

- A working helmet is probably a good plan

- Sleep cures all ills

- Bargaining is always a good plan

- Health is just as important as old people say it is - I need to go for a run!

J_14: Sleep! Foreign Correspondents, Unilever and Ibu-Ibu power, and studying to DVDs...no really

Oh dear, I've been so BORING recently, and today is not much different.

I've really gotta work on my awful sales technique!

So I slept in today, since we were heading to a discussion panel about disaster risk management hosted by the Jakarta Foreign Correspondents Club. It cost us 50,000 rupiah and was in a super fancy hotel. The panel was interesting, but the speakers tended to pack information onto the slides and their talks did seem to lack structure, was confusing. What really annoyed me was that we ran out of time to schmooze, which was one of the main aims of GOING - maybe it was a good thing though since my business cards didn't get printed in the end. I also went to the bathroom just before lunch, and when I came back there was no food left - some people had sat by the food through the entire two hour discussion and just eaten. PIGS!

After this those of us who hadn't been able to eat went to spend more money at the University canteen, which was again a great meal (although not as good as the satay!) and then we got on the big bus to head to a Unilever-supported 'green' community, that used compost, restored garbage to useable, sellable products and so on. It was a very cute little community, with tiny winding streets and colourful houses, and printed fabrics drying on the balconies. There was a group of 50 year old women who greeted us at the gates by singing, cheering and clapping - it was a bit overwhelming! We were then proudly shown how to compost, which I found very comical, since in New Zealand, compost is a very common, un-spectacular thing. We had some speeches, a song and dance from the women (who had ibu-ibu power, our LO Debbie told us, or maternal, aunt-type power, with the force of a wagging finger, a disappointed look and nagging.

After they gave us a box of treats, including STICKY RICE (saya suka!) we were asked to make comments about the village by the Unilever PR girl. It was very forced and I kind of resented it, but the people were obviously very proud of their work and very excited to have Westerners visit, so I said it was very nice and that the ibu-ibu had performed amazingly. They seemed pretty pleased, and mobbed me when we were leaving for about 50 photos - seriously, 20 women dressed in white with fake flowers pinned all over them, hugging me for a photo, and insisting on shaking my hand. I felt famous. My LOs told me off for keeping the bus waiting, but it was worth it man. I bet I'm on their walls at home, beaming kindly down on their future generations...

Ahem. Excuse me. So, we headed home, with me trying to nap on the bus, since EVERYONE has been telling me I look tired for about a week - sheez! Then I picked up some groceries and headed home, to start studying and confirm my attendance to the island this weekend. Except, when Helena and I were studying, and definitely not eating ice cream while watching DVDs, the Ozzies told us the trip is off, because the boats only leave at 6:45am every morning, so they don't want to catch the boat at that time on Sunday morning (I don't really want to either, but I was SO keen to get out of Jakarta.)

So Bahasa test tomorrow, and I'm not really prepared (oh dear) to be tested on two weeks of jam packed material. Horribleness! I also have to pitch story ideas, and then karaoke 'til the sun comes up. Til then,

Bye!

LESSONS LEARNT 14:

- Ibu-ibu power is strong

- Two weeks is not enough time to learn Bahasa! This is ridiculous!

- When someone is tired, don't tell them they look tired. It's putting salt on the wound.

- I need a break! Le sigh. I will just have to explore Indonesia some more. Life is hard, ay?

J_13: Sleeping in, Journalists With Integrity, Lazing Around

Salve!

Again a bit of a do-nothing day, so forewarned etc etc

I slept in today, after a reasonably good slumber uninterrupted by the general Jakartan back ground noises. (Jakartan??) But I think the previous couple of nights caught up with me, plus the midnight karaoke, so I ended up lounging around in bed until 8 am, ignoring the frantic knocks of Moko that prompted Helena to explain to him my predicament: "Dia tidur!" (She's sleeping!) Helena and I have prompted social networking and interpersonal isolation to the point that we now Facebook and text each other in the next room. Utterly sad, but it DID save me getting out of bed to confront Moko in a FOUL mood, and explaining to Helena that maybe I wouldn't quite make it to Uni...

Anyway, any concerned parents, teachers or nerdilicious friends should know that I DID get up and make it to class and was only about 15 minutes late, so learning did occur today, although not much before my THREE cups of coffee at break (yes, my dependancy grows). We got let out early today and I said goodbye to Tash, who is flying back home to NZ, having fallen ill/not enjoyed Jakarta. We took a fancy bus to the Independent Journalists Association, one of two associations in Indonesia and the only one that says that pocket journalism, or journalism conducted with bribery and blackmail, is unethical. It is consequently very poor. It is involved with advocacy for under-siege journalists, with awareness, and with campaigning the government, but mostly employers, to raise issues like pay - journalists in Indonesia (if they're not ex-pats) get paid around $50 US a month - even with Indonesia's lower living costs, this is not enough to live on, which is why pocket journalism is rife and somewhat expected in Indonesia - it just happens to be completely unethical and not at all objective etc. Sadness! The IJA are definitely some worthy journalists chock-full of integrity - many of them were arrested in 1998 for publishing then-illegal magazines (since the Soeharto government used to control all the press licenses and only allowed pro-govt media) and spent several years in prison!

On the walk to the IJA we all passed an old man, lying on the side of the street. He moved as I walked by, but he was just lying on his side, next to a warung, and no one was helping him. He was gone when we came back, but I was struck again with my helplessness and the fact that I didn't even stop - except I don't know what to do! I had an orange on me, but didn't think about it until too late. A really disturbing experience. On the way back to the bus, I took a bottle of water with me but he had disappeared, hopefully with someone who was helping him. On the bridge this morning, I saw the man many of the students had been talking about - he has a HUGE gaping leg wound, about the size of a CD, which is very deep - it goes to the bone, apparently - from what I could see it was about half an index finger deep, and is full of pus. Again, I have no idea what to do - medical attention seems to be the main area where I feel helpless, because there's no one to ring and doctor's visits cost around 2,000,000 rupiah, or my the cost of my accommodation for 6 weeks.

We hopped off the bus early as it was passing our kos, and just ended up relaxing, talking to friends back home, talking to the Australians, eating crackers with tomatoes and Nutella sandwiches (healthy eating out the window) and trying to get our business cards made - we've been told that business cards are pretty essential here in Indonesia and there's a big Jakarta Foreign Correspondents Club talk tomorrow where everyone is hoping to network. I designed mine and tried to get it printed but the line was too long and I'm pretty tired (again!) Helena had more luck, although she did get accosted with hilarious results...for more, go to her blog at www.news-weasel.blogspot.com

Until tomorrow mes amis, when I should have a stock of better tales - I might go get a massage at this place all the Ozzies are talking about, and try to sort out this weekend island! In the meantime, I'll have to come up with story ideas for next week, and, of course, study my Bahasa!

A bientot!

LESSONS LEARNT 13:

- Medecins sans frontieres do an amazing job, one of the most important in the world - go Gen!

- Integrity is a hard thing to maintain

- Integrity doesn't pay, but it's do-able

- Journalism can be one of the most important jobs in the world too, and one of the most despicable

- Friends, they be awesome

- Karaoke should be a major at all Universities but should ideally be conducted when you have a recovery period the next day

12: Deathly Tired, Kantina Keren 2.0, Islam in Indonesia and Karaoke!

Greetings, loved ones.

Oh, I am so tired - last night I didn't seem to sleep AT ALL, and when I did finally drop off (contradiction I know, but bear with me), my ear plugs fell out in a malicious plot to force my brain into a lower functioning cycle (oh, it's possible) by leaving my ears naked to the loudspeaker-announced 4am prayers. Garn! Atmospheric, yes. Restful, no.

I briefly considered skipping class to get sleep but with a sigh at the lameness of responsibility I realised that was not what I was here for - and that we have a test on Friday. So I stumbled to class, handing out oranges on the way, and have NEVER prayed for coffee more. Two cups in quick succession later, class was a bit more bearable, although I've just realised I haven't done my homework. Doh!

Lunch was spent in the company of the other ACICIS students and amidst DELICIOUS chicken satay and plans for a trip to one of the closer islands this weekend. I am well keen to get out of Jakarta and see some of the Indonesian country side, and also to hit up a beach, since it was overcast at Christmas and I got no beach time in, uwaaah! I have resigned myself to the fact that I will have to shell out a bit of money, but this is something I'm willing to do, especially for the DEFTONES (!!) concert in February, that I'm going to EVEN if it happens to coincide with the open bar the Australian Embassy is putting on as a farewell. I hope that it doesn't, but Helena has a plan of action that includes a cardboard cut-out of me with a mop on my head and a dictaphone with selected suave phrases hidden in her belt. "May I offer you a canape?", "Your armoire is surprisingly heavy" and "Is this 16th century Dutch?" are just some of the phrases being taken under consideration at the moment. Also, anyone who can tell me the correct reference in that last sentence will win themselves a super special present from Jakarta, and also a Pat On The Back.

After lunch was a lecture about Islam in Indonesia which wasn't quite as in depth as I'd hoped, but was still interesting, particularly for its presentation of the views of moderate, liberal Islamist thinkers/advocates in Indonesia today - for those who don't know, Indonesia is around 88% Muslim, and your religion is required for your identity card if you are a citizen. There are a few extremist groups here and there has been a lot of religious violence, generally from these groups, so it was interesting to find out a bit more, particularly about the issuing of fatwas and the gender issues of the religion.

After this, Helena and I returned to the ever-damned mall to buy BINTANG! And headed home, handing out the last of the baby biscuits as I went to a remarkably better looking baby - huzzah! Drinking the Bintang in the evening light on our balcony with the Australians was fun, and I got to hear about some of their travels - they are a globe trotting bunch and I'm very jealous! They in turn were practising their Bahasa on the building manager, Moko, who seemed happy to talk to us. He asked for my phone number but I fielded the inquiry away from such dangerous waters - we've been told that this is common practice in Indonesian males, but not to hand out your phone number unwarily. Anyway, the last thing I need is Moko ringing me to abuse me for our floor's constant usage of the drinking water - we're a dehydrated bunch, I tells ya! Maybe I should look that up in Bahasa, complete with 1930s accent.

Then it was off to karaoke, but due to our South Pacific uselessness, we were late and got lost in a massive 5 floor department store before we found the place, and our head LO, Fikrik, who had been waiting for some 40 minutes, poor guy! We apologised profusely and headed to our private room, and proceeded to bring the house down - Fikrik and his friends were AMAZING singers, everyone was willing to have a go, drink and food flowed and other JPPers turned up for some fun. I managed to sing a Whitney Houston and P-Diddy song (that's right, straight gangs) credibly but my NSync was SHOCKING.

Anyway, I've lost my voice and I have a headache from too much crooning, but seeing 15 or so 20-somethings I hardly know belt out Living on a Prayer while punching the air was definitely worth the morning's inevitable seediness.

So until tomorrow, ave!

LESSONS LEARNT 12:

- Karaoke is an international language

- It's okay to be late, if you carve up at karaoke

- Bintang makes everything go smoother

- Countries that use large denominations like Indonesia's 100,000 rupiah note, are a gigantic pain

- Sleep should never be underrated. Oh, sweet sleep, how I miss you!

11: Back to school (with books so cool), epic nap, afternoon lectures and nanna dinner

Hey ho,

Today was a very uneventful day, so much so that I feel silly writing about it. I'll just try and up the waxing lyrical in order to fill in the narrative gaps.

Monday schmonday meant it was back to 8:30am starts for language school, which was pretty hard to manage after a weekend of sleeping in, but we got there in the end, with me once again devoutly thanking the catering crew for the mid morning coffee and snack energy boost. After we found out we have a one hour test on Friday, and we have to finish our entire booklet by then, we tried to put the hard yards in to get some Bahasa engrained before the end of the week. Ay me!

At lunch time I was so tired, due to another night's interrupted sleep, that I headed to the library to have a nap for the lunch hour, missing out in doing so on the excellent lunches offered by the Uni canteen. The library at Atma Jaya is very small - just one room of bookshelves and another room with about three long tables stacked together. I found a chair and read the newspaper until my eyes closed, and then curled up in the chair in a most uncomfortable position, with one leg propped against the table join, one leg laid ontop of that, and my arms wrapped around my body in order not to smash them against the arm rests. Despite the utterly ridiculous look of the position, I did manage to grab a catnap and felt marginally more refreshed for our afternoon talk by Dr Acie Armando of the University, who also used to be a journalist, about media ownership and concentration in Indonesia - it was again an interesting lecture, notable for its revelations about the pornography law in Indonesia, which was basically passed to allow certain forms of pornography in this Muslim-oriented state. What is allowed will seem very tame for Westerners - things like bikinis, g-strings and intercourse where no body parts are shown (under the sheets, etc.) No full nudity, graphic intercourse or any of the other indecencies (paedophilia etc) are allowed to be sold or distributed BUT if you made or possessed the video for your OWN use, and not for distribution, you are allowed anything - including paedophilia. There are in fact no formal laws criminalizing paedophilia here in Indonesia and recently an Islamic cleric (with apparently a very small following) married an 11 year old girl and couldn't be penalised (although apparently the rest of Indonesia was disgusted). Anyway, this was a fairly disturbing revelation.

After the talk, Helena and I headed to the blasted mall to pick up groceries and then I had an early nanna dinner at a local eatery we quite like, where I ordered Bihun Ayam, or Chicken Noodles. It was very nice but didn't seem to agree with my stomach, unfortunately. On the way back to the kos, I handed out two oranges to the beggars on the bridge - and the lady with the baby, version 1.0, was back, but this time the baby was awake and sitting up, so yay! Maybe the formula worked a miracle, or maybe she has been looking after him, but it was good to see.

Back at the kos, I pretty much just disappeared into my room to read Hunter S. Thompson's Kingdom of Fear (brilliant if erratic - what a guy!), chat to friends in NZ, watch DVDs and generally have a quiet night. The Ozzies offered a trip to see N.E.R.D. play live but considering it was a) $40 and b) not a band I'm hugely fond of, I declined, feeling pretty wrecked from the lack of sleep as it was.

I forgot to mention! The other day I managed in true form to smash a huge plate of glass that was part of a chemist's display and take a chunk of marble out of the door when my massively overloaded school bag (such a nerd) caught it as I was passing. I tried to pick up the pieces and kept saying "Maaf!" (Sorry!) over and over, but the harrassed store assistant waved me away and said it was fine. Much embarrassed I left the store, only to find out the manager had appeared five minutes later and forced Helena to pay 50,000 rupiah for the damage! Poor Helena. I paid her back of course but felt very bad.

So tonight is a quiet one, but tomorrow I will try and see if I can get up to some mischief - maybe finally check out Sarah's kos and have a cook up or some such trouble. Considering I would have to buy a pan, maybe I'll just go out for dinner! As for now, it's time for Bahasa homework and then bed.

Ciao!

LESSONS LEARNT 11:

- DEFTONES ARE COMING TO JAKARTA! Tickets are about $66 NZ, but I mean, come ON! Well keen! The only hiccup is it might be on the farewell night at the Australian Embassy = open bar, free wine, national insult if I don't attend...

- Pornography is a complex thing

- Sometimes chilling is fulfilling (see what I did there?)

- Gonzo journalism is epic, but Thompson made the right move, years too late

- Learning Bahasa in two weeks is like convincing Americans to buy the Eiffel Tower for scrap - do-able, but only by talented individuals!

10: Lazy Sundays with Kiwis

Ahh, Sundays. Usually they make for a day of hectic lazing in order to save up as much doing-nothing time as possible before the working week starts again. But when you're in a different country and every road is a new surprise, Sundays just so happen to be a frantic rush to find out as much as possible about the sprawl that is Jakarta.

After a bit of a sleep in (cough cough 11am cough), Sarah came to meet us at the kos and Helena, Sarah and I headed off to experience brunch at a Kiwi-owned cafe here in Jakarta, that our programme officer Sunny had told us about. We were looking forward to a Kiwi breakfast after noodles or nectarines for the past ten days or so.

On an aside, Sarah Young is the other New Zealander selected by Asia NZ to attend the ACICIS JPP, and reading her blog is a pretty good way to get a feel for Jakarta - she is a very good writer, so much so that I intend to try and make MY blogs a little more polished and a little less, shall we say, off the cuff Kiwi-ese. Her blog can be found here: http://atraceintime.wordpress.com/2011/01/08/one-week-in-jakarta-settling-in-losing-myself-and-finding-much-more/

Due to Sarah's excellent Google Mapsing (maybe it's NOT Satan's GPS), we made it to the cafe in good time, after having the taxi's boot searched by armed guards. Very strange - it was a collection of fairly Western shops and a carpark of about 20 parks, but it had two guards and a barrier arm - probably because it was in the ex-pat part of town, and a Western gathering place, generally a target for extremist Muslim groups here in Indonesia. Unfortunately the Kiwi owner of the Antipodes cafe (what a give away) was away in Malaysia, but we shall return in 2 weeks when he's back - for story ideas, of course...

The food was great, if a little on the small-portion side - I had scrambled eggs, teensy chicken sausages, mushrooms and toast, and the first decent coffee since arriving here. Yum-oh! After breakfast, which was eaten in the company of a cafe full of white people (ex-pats and tourists, we assumed), we headed over to the bookshop, where I bought the paper I will be working for NEXT WEEK eek and then to the supermarket which was quite a nice surprise since it had heaps of Western food that we'd been craving, like pesto, hummus and good fruit and vege. I have as yet to locate wine, that necessity of life, but it was a good find.

After that we took a mosey around the streets and passed three shops side by side FULL of fresh cut flowers - beautiful! And made me think Mum would LOVE to have been set loose in them. Lilies, Birds of Paradise, chrysanthemums, oh my! We also walked down more richy-rich streets, with amazing HUGE carved wooden gates, whole complexes with weird towers (guard towers? UFO landing sites? I know not these things), little side alleys down which you could see children playing soccer in droves and crooked houses painted bright yellow and blue. It was all very pretty but the heat and the uneven roads (pavements are pretty rare in Jakarta and when they DO appear, are generally made of very uneven brick-work patterns, that frequently give way to gaping holes leading straight into the sewerage) made us very glad to see a beauty spa, our second must-do item being to try a cream bath.

Cream baths are a necessity if you ever visit Jakarta. Your hair is washed and then you choose the food-stuff of your choice to be smeared throughout your hair - I chose Strawberry and the others chose Avocado. Huge tubs of conditioner containing, or smelling like, at least, these fruit are then brought out and your hair is slathered with it and then it's massaged in for a good twenty minutes. Then you get a neck, back, arms and hand massage for good measure, and then your hair is washed and blow dried how you want it. BLISS. Unfortunately our clinic was busy so I got what I suspect was a hair dresser who was free, rather than an actual trained masseuse, because my massage was about 15 minutes shorter than the others and REALLY hurt because it focussed on the arms - my neck is really kinked up and she spent literally 15 seconds on it. Merde! She also jerked my hair every so often and massaged her thumbs RIGHT INTO MY TEMPLES - I asked her to stop after it felt as though her thumbs would pop straight through my skin into my brain. BUT my hair was blow waved into a Jackie-O bob, smells lovely, feels great and the head massage was pretty good. I'm still jealous of the others, but I am containing it like a mature adult and NOT herding mosquitos into their rooms at night in marauding hordes...

Speaking of which, I sprayed out my room today after discovering about 10 random bites - why do mosquitos always go for the strangest areas, like elbows, foreheads and ankles? So awkward to scratch and surely there's no blood there? Honestly, don't they apply common logic?!

Anyway, we taxied home, trying to ignore beggars playing instruments that approached the taxi windows whenever we stopped at lights. I handed out a fairly mouldy and beaten up apple to a man and his daughter and felt like apologising for the quality. I felt it was a bit wasted when the next beggar to come up had no teeth, a mashed up jaw and was playing a flute WITH HIS NOSE. Now that's talent. Sarah found it pretty hard going when a lady with a baby in a sling around her neck approached the car singing and strumming a ukelele, especially when she stopped and for a solid five minutes or so just stood there and said, over and over "Please Mrs please, money Mrs, please please please", staring straight at Sarah the entire time. Awful. The weird thing is, I get quite indignant about people who TRY and play on your sympathy - which is surely the only marketing tool beggars have. I am a strange person.

At home, we relaxed on the balcony while Moko mopped our floor - what a life! The Ozzies decided to go for Sunday roast at the local warung Seafood, which I was definitely keen to join in on...until I fell asleep for an hour or so. Whoops. I get tired very easily here - or maybe I'm just lazy! I will have to try it soon, and hang out with our South Pacific homies.

My blasted DVD is proving to be a mission to watch - right at the climax! What a pain in the posterior. I will just have to move on to one of the other 7 that we bought (it's a hard life). In health news, I may have bruises on my arms, but my inflamed tonsil is settling down and I'm sleeping much better. Huzzah!

Until tomorrow mes amis, I will leave you smelling of strawberries and mosquito repellant.

LESSONS LEARNT 10:

- Even when they're bad, cream baths are awesome!

- Flowers are a good way to feel better about a place

- I cannot stress the importance of wandering!

- Home comforts are comforting (weird, I know)

Jakarta 8 & 9: Schmoozing, losing (the plot) and DVDoozing

Hey all,

Sorry for the lack of blog last night - I went out schmoozing and came home too late to post. (At MIDNIGHT, oh what a rebel! This damn heat has aged me like 40 years - anything past 10pm is a late night now).

SO! Yesterday I managed to get up at my latest time yet, having been woken up at 6:30am AGAIN - stupid broken A/C. I crossed the Beggar Bridge and this time handed out a pack of baby biscuits to a toddler and an apple to a skinny, slightly deformed boy, who always crouches against the railings of the bridge holding a hat out - it's pretty heart breaking. What is super sad, however, is that I'm starting to get really tired of caring and tired of always stopping to give people things, because it obviously isn't helping that much. I know I should just keep in mind that if they're not eating, it would be nice to get some food every day but it's a hard thing to do every day. Begging fatigue, who would've thought!

I made it to language class and was saved once again by the mid-morning coffee - my caffeine addiction is obviously getting worse. Also in the getting progressively worse category is my English, having sent a text today that included the phrase 'not working good'. Ay me! Then it was lunch at the canteen at school, which was really cheap at 10,000 rupiah (and you can get even cheaper if you choose only one or two dishes...unlike me, who chose about 5). One was DELICIOUS - shredded coconut with lime juice, beans and chilli, yummm.

In the afternoon (after a refreshing Choccochino - MUST STOP BUYING SNACKS) we had an informal panel-type discussion with two journos working in Jakarta, just about protocol and the life here - apparently either you love it or you hate it. Working life sounds a bit different for journos than copy editors - the copy editors here have set hours but journalists tend to come in about 10am and then work however long it takes to get the story done, which apparently often means extra hours. LOTS of extra hours. Another interesting tip was that texting people in Indonesia, even high ranking officials, was a good idea before calling them, as people don't answer their phones to numbers they don't know.

After that, Helena and I stopped off at the supermarket (cursed mall!) for beer and I bought some bananas to hand out on the bridge, one to a legless, mostly fingerless performer (but he still had two, to peel the banana, otherwise that would've been pretty cruel) and one to a toddler. Then it was home to relax for a while and drink our massive bottles of Bintang on the balcony with the Australians, who were off to pick up the bicycles they'd bought a few days earlier. It was nice to be home early last night and have a look out over the city - it was a big huddled, churning mess of people, houses, shacks and skyrises. Our street seems to be a market, restaurant and brokers all in one as it's always packed with people, and last night was no exception. The sunset was also amazing, probably because of the pollution, depressingly enough, but the whole sky turned lurid pink (the kind of colour that prompt the old joke about sunsets so pretty it's tacky).

After an hour or two of Bintang consumption, we dressed up nicely (skirt, heels and my awesome scarf) and headed to the journo schmooze bar, Face. Unfortunately, we headed in the wrong direction and due to the size and rambling nature of Jakarta, ended up walking in a circle for an HOUR, asking several passersby if they knew where to go. LE SIGH. It was fairly liberating to walk in a singlet in public for the first time in a while, but I was glad of the big scarf when the catcalls got a bit annoying.

Eventually we ended up, hot, sweaty and tired, at Face bar, where the other journos had been for an hour or so, and where happy hour was JUST finishing. I ordered a long island ice tea, which was AWFUL, probably due to the fact that Indonesians don't drink (so maybe the bartender didn't know how to make it properly?) The bar was pretty amazing - it was an Indian restaurant and bar all in one, and had low lighting, wood everywhere, plush rounded chairs to relax in and smoke hashish if you wished, little raised islands piled with cushions to sit on and draped with silks - very Arabian nights, really. We had dinner there too, which was quite expensive but lovely, and generally caught up with everyone from class who was relaxing. There was also an opportunity to schmooze, which I didn't take advantage of, even though my internship boss was there, because it all felt a little forced, but I'm sure that'll pass!

Two cocktails later, we caught a taxi home and DIDN'T get lost (thank goodness) and then I headed straight to bed, but was woken several times by the heat and the fact that I was getting BITTEN TO ETERNITY. By golly that mosquito better hide itself tonight because I am on a mozzie rampage! And so it's back into the net (SIGH) and inhaling repellant in large amounts (fairly sure I will have Agent Orange-like symptoms once I'm back home). On the up side, my A/C is fixed, so yay!

As for TODAY (Jakarta 9), I woke up really late which was heavenly, chatted with the Ozzies, who sounded like they had an amazing Friday night picking up their custom-made bikes, riding in bike gangs around Jakarta on the main high ways and hanging out with the local bikers. Helena and I then headed to the mall to meet Sarah, and I handed out an apple and the last of the baby formula, which the woman (a different one) put in her bag - hopefully for the baby for later? Sarah is not well at the mo, poor girl, so we decided to take it a bit easy and check out the pirated DVDs at Ambasadur Mall, and get a cream bath. About HALF AN HOUR later, due to traffic, our taxi arrived, and we mucked around looking at the thousands of DVDs on offer, picking up a few old favourites and one or two new releases. I'm hoping and praying the blasted things work on this old machine of mine.

Since Sarah is sick, I'm slightly under the weather and Helena is shattered from the week, we decided we wouldn't go to the Art Festival that's on tonight, since we had no idea where it was anyway, but would get up early tomorrow morning to go to a Kiwi-owned cafe, called the Antipodes (so, not much of a surprise then) and then head to get a massage/cream bath, and then check out the festival. Hopefully the bands will still be playing tomorrow and I can get a taste of Indonesian music - all I've heard so far is Katy Perry on repeat, and I've had to make up new lyrics to stop myself going insane: "I didn't get a pre-ee-nup, and Russell Brand's a man-nn-whore, I'm gonna get done oh-oh-ver, when he inevitably cheats-on-meee" (Sung to the tune of 'Firework', remix out in June). Not that I don't think Russell Brand is all types of hot, but come on now. Leopards don't change their shorts.

So tonight I have stocked up on junk food and plan to watch my DVDs and then hit the hay to HOPEFULLY clear up this blasted ulcer, which is actually an inflamed tonsil. I have started coughing so it must be on the way out, and it is less sore than it was yesterday, so huzzah!

Catch y'all laters!

LESSONS LEARNT 8 & 9:

- Happy hour is a godsend - must take advantage next time

- Google maps suck mosquito innards

- Ants in Jakarta are about 1/8 the size of NZ ants (they have invaded the kitchen)

- Sweet bread and cheese tastes GROSS (but is strangely fitting, since we discovered cheese Tim Tams in the supermarket. CHEESE.)

- Journos in Jakarta must have a pretty exciting time but the social circle seems small

- I would consider working here for a year or two at some point

- NZ will seem very small and boring when I get back, but at least I will be able to drink wine and have pizza without dying.