Indonesia
- Bernd
- Sep 16, 2024
- 8 min read
This trip is part of a longer tour: It starts in Vienna/Austria, takes me to Kuala Lumpur/Malaysia, to Miri/Malaysia, then on to Jakarta/Indonesia, Karawang/Indonesia, Manila/Philippines, Tagbilaran/Philippines. Via Kuala Lumpur I go to Abu Dhabi for a few days and finally back to Germany.
Indonesia was formerly known as the Dutch East Indies. First the Portuguese came in 1511, then the Dutch in 1602. Indonesia became independent in 1945, but was not recognized until 1949.
With 274 million inhabitants and 17,500 islands, Indonesia is the largest island nation in the world.
Visa
Requirement: Passport that must be valid for at least 6 months.
Germans receive a "Visa on Arrival" upon entry. The tourist visa is valid for 30 days and can be extended once (as of 2024, no guarantee).
An e-visa can be applied for in advance:
Taxi
The same applies here as in Malaysia. Beware of VIP taxis, which are significantly more expensive and not necessarily more comfortable. Drivers charge up to 650,000 IDR (Indonesian Rupiah) to the city center.
Regular taxis charge between 150,000 and 300,000 IDR, depending on traffic.
The Bluebird taxis have a taximeter and are highly recommended.
Jakarta, the capital city that is sinking
Jakarta, with its 11 million inhabitants, is located on the northwest coast of Java. The city is doomed. Several parts of the city are already below sea level. The north is sinking by another 25 cm every year.
In 2019, the government announced that it would abandon Jakarta as the capital and build a new one on Borneo called Nusantara.
Like all East Asian metropolises, Jakarta is bursting at the seams. I won't be staying here long because my actual destination is Karawang, 73 km to the east.
The taxi takes me to my accommodation.
Fraser Resedence Menteng
My raiting: *****
Adresse: Jl. Menteng Raya No.60 3, RT.1/RW.9, Kb. Sirih, Kec. Menteng, Kota Jakarta Pusat, Daerah Khusus Ibukota Jakarta 10340, Indonesien
Telefon: +62 21 29551888
The accommodation offers studios and apartments. The Monument National is in the immediate vicinity. The hotel staff is extremely courteous. They saved me from a disaster. But more on that later.
Monument National
My raiting: *****
Turm, Zentral-Jakarta, Indonesien
Why most bus tours only make a short stop here is a mystery to me. It is here, and especially in the evening, that you experience the Indonesians directly and authentically: solo travellers, day tourists, families and couples. Everyone meets here. And the otherwise very reserved Indonesians couldn't resist taking a photo with me, the white giant.
The National Monument in the middle of Merdeka Square symbolizes Indonesia's struggle for independence. The tower is 137 m high and the flame is covered in gold leaf. Construction began in 1961 and the opening took place in 1975.
The entrance and ticket office for the monument are 100 m north.
After you have bought your tickets, you go through a tunnel into the museum hall. At numerous terminals you can learn more about ancient Indonesia, modern times and the founding of the state. A small side effect: it is pleasantly cool here.
Be prepared to walk long distances. The site includes the huge Merdeka Square, a park and also a tourist market with clothes and food.
It's oppressively hot today. I've walked all the way around the square. In this heat, I'm more thirsty than hungry. So I buy a coconut, drink it, and scrape out the delicious flesh as best I can.
Departure with obstacles
Adrenalin: *****
I wake up disoriented. No wonder, given the many travel destinations that have been there and are still to come. Today I'm visiting Sam, a friend in the industrial city of Karawang, with its 2.5 million inhabitants. Sam organized the train ticket for me online.
I pack quickly. I walk around the room several times, but am constantly lost in thought. This will come back to haunt me later.
The taxi is already waiting downstairs. The driver stows the suitcase. I get in, take a deep breath, and tell him my destination. He drives off. It's somehow different than usual. Something isn't right. After about two hundred meters I shout in panic: "Stop, stop!" I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. This is every traveler's nightmare. The taxi driver pulls over in surprise and turns to me with questioning eyes.
I left my backpack with all my papers, documents and credit cards in the room.
This is extremely critical. Something like this must not happen! Because the taxi cannot turn around here, I rush back to the hotel on foot.
When I get there, they are surprised to be able to welcome me back so quickly. I explain my problem and receive the room card.
The elevator crawls upwards.
What luck! The backpack is still there, nothing is missing. Now quickly back to the taxi.
Only now do I remember that I entrusted my suitcase to the driver. What if he ran off with it?
All my fears are unfounded. The world is actually better than the apocalyptic press portrays it.
Lucky me.
By train to Karawang
There's a train going to nowhere
My raiting: *****
Pasar Senen train station is only a few kilometers from the hotel. The train check-in is well organized. Passengers are only allowed to enter the platform shortly before departure.
The friendly train staff in their uniforms represent something else here in Indonesia and are happy to help you find the right compartment.
After about 90 minutes I reach my destination and jump off the train. The height is considerable where I get off. The steps from Jakarta would not be bad now. It is now dark outside.
People stare at me, because not so many tourists find their way to this city. A sea of motorbikes and scooters is parked in front of the main entrance.
Sam proudly shows me his scooter, which he will pay off in monthly installments from his first earnings after graduating. Our greeting is warm. He invited me to his university graduation party last year, but I couldn't fly due to scheduling issues.
Sam organized a kind of taxi for me, quickly clarified the destination and the fare. We agreed to meet at my hotel the next day after work for dinner.
It started to rain. The headlights of the vehicles blinded me. I reached my sleeping place safely, checked in, unpacked and fell into bed tired.
Swiss-Belinn
My raiting: ****
Adresse: Jalan A. Yani No.29, Tanjungpura, Kec. Karawang Bar., Karawang, Jawa Barat 41315, Indonesien
The 3-star hotel is located in the industrial area and has 176 rooms, Wi-Fi, a restaurant, an outdoor pool, a bar, a fitness center, airport shuttle and room service.
I'm surprised at how sparsely packed my suitcase is. It's strangely light, too light. And then I'm hit again! This can't be true!!!
I had most of my laundry washed in Jakarta and... Exactly. It's lying there in the closet, carefully folded and ironed. And now?
I mutate into a traveling nerd. The woman at the reception explains the situation to her colleague on the other end of the phone, looks at her pad, looks up at me, smiles (pityingly), nods, hangs up. "You can pick up the things at the hotel on your return journey," she explains gently in perfect English.
What's next?
The worldwide dream of owning your own home
Sam and I arrange to meet the next evening after his shift in the hotel restaurant. He is visibly tired. His regular working day is 10 hours. His boss often orders unpaid overtime. Here in Indonesia is an employers' market. The country has many young people. The number of people looking for work is huge.
I show Sam my photographic haul from today. "That would be it," he says when taking a photo of the new building projects, "a spacious house of your own, a terrace in front and a small garden. "For many people, that is unattainable." A few years ago he would have said "For most..." But Asia is growing. Indonesia is growing.
The people are poor, but not without dignity. They have one goal: to climb the social ladder. Parents save up for school fees so that their children can get vocational training. Among the needy in the lower classes, everyone has to contribute to the family income from a young age. State aid is rare.
Sam knows what he's talking about.
His father died early when he was still a boy. Fortunately, the family was not very large, because his mother had to support the family from then on.
He has an older sister who is now married and has started her own family.
When Sam was in his early 20s, his mother died unexpectedly. He wanted to study. But that was no longer possible. Sam worked for a pittance. Alone and overwhelmed, he lost all will to live and sank into a deep depression.
When I met him at that time, he was just skin and bones. His face was covered in rashes, his body was emaciated. As if he had come from a concentration camp. "Fight, my Muslim friend," I said succinctly.
Sam didn't give up, studied, and graduated.
Unimaginably excessive
I show Sam the following photo: He says that there are life situations that are unimaginable for us tourists. He asks me whether it is true that families in Germany receive state aid and are still not happy. I nod. "We Germans have lost all sense of proportion," I answer.
Sam explains to me that the man in the photo is searching through the trash cans. He collects leftover drinks and pours them into plastic bottles. I thought long and hard about whether I should even take the photo, waited a moment until I could no longer recognize the face and pressed the shutter button. Most tourists are far less empathetic, says Sam.
Chicken Kung Pao
My raiting: *****
Chicken with kung pao sauce, peanuts and onions.
"What we're eating right now is absolutely delicious!" Sam would never have thought he would be able to order it in such a beautiful hotel. That's a luxury for him. Suddenly all tiredness is forgotten and we concentrate on the food. A delight.
The ingredients are freshly prepared. You can taste it. I tell him about a snack that I bought in a supermarket and that was almost inedible for me.
Fast food is the only alternative for the poor. But the poorest don't even have that. "Why don't you try street food?" asks Sam. "It's cheap and very good." I tell him about my experiences in Miri, almost as a justification.
The streets of Karawang
The next day I explore my surroundings and decide to walk to the Resinda Park Mall, 2 km away. On the way, my cell phone gives in to the heat. I get a message on the screen and turn it off for a moment. This should happen to me more often.
Children are playing on the side of the road, small shops are selling their goods along the road. Suddenly the road ends. Railroad tracks block my way. I cross them, wondering if I'm allowed to do so. A group of teenagers shout something at me. They are sitting under a motorway bridge, killing time.
It would be easy for them to steal my cell phone and various other things that I carry with me. A fortune for them. I feel a little uneasy. But turning back would be boring. The boys remain seated, relaxed. I would have liked to have tried to talk to them, but I walk on purposefully.
A few legendary bumps here and there, chickens running free under a bridge, garbage on the side of the road that probably isn't disposed of. Garbage from the rich and the poor.
Yay, I'm a chicken,
unfortunately I have nothing to do.
My house is clean and nice,
I eat more than twice.
Day in, day out!
Day in, day out!
I'm slowly getting fat.
I swear I feel that
The hen is in a similar situation
she's getting fat, congratulation!
The butcher is he
and will kill me.
Oh, I'm a chicken, wow!
What now?
Aren't we all chickens? The houses are nested together and appear simple and functional. They use whatever is suitable. Can I take a look inside? Not really. I don't want to be the butcher. Sam explains it to me like this: "If your life is dark grey day and night, you build with all the colours and materials you can find. The houses get a soul. We whitewash everything dark."
OK, now I can better classify the many brightly colored things in the shops. They are supposed to make life a little more bearable. With that in mind, we say goodbye as unspectacularly as always. Tomorrow we're going back to Jakarta and on to the Philippines.
Sam wants to make it. His working days are long. Next year he has a few days' vacation. We want to meet again. There is so much to talk about. But who knows what next year will bring?
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