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