This is a view from my study! It is a animated gif, so please wait for it to completely load to enjoy it at the max!

Talking about new trends in Jakarta (see my post about taxi drivers), here is another one: “meneketehe” (pronounce it with al the e’s short – like in ‘the’, putting only a slight intonation on the last two syllables). I first bumped into it a few days ago. At my office, my Indonesian colleagues always start laughing when I say “nggak tahu” (“(I) don’t know”), because they think I have a funny accent–I can imagine that. Last week, when one of my colleagues asked me about something I didn’t know, I said it again – triggering a laughing explosion in the room. One of my colleagues said: “Next time you must say: meneketehe!” Again everybody started laughing. My first reaction was to repeat the word, increasing the laughing volume, so I wondered if I pronounced it wrong. “No, no! You said it the right way!” My second reaction was: asking what the meaning of the word was. “The same as nggak tahu.” I did not get any further explanation at that point.

Later that day, someone explained to me it was a part of a famous TV show called “Extravaganza” (this is a ‘funny’ show that runs on TRANS-TV). “It is actually ‘mana ku tahu’ – ‘how should I know’! Just replace the consonants with ‘e’. ” she explained. I never heard anyone using the word before, and I am sure it is not because I didn’t know it; I would definitely have been aroused when I heard someone say it, because the first part is the same as the Flemish word ‘meneke’ (little man) and is pronounced almost the same. Since I learned this word, I already heard it many times, not only at work. Yesterday, for instance, I came home from the office and stepped into the lift, together with 3 college students. One of them was telling a story (I did not understand all, but it was about one of the classes he followed) and used the word five times in the 40 seconds it takes the lift to go from ground level to the 17^th floor…

I think this trend is catching on, but if someone would ask me about it… I would say “meneketehe”!

“NYAMUK!” I heard this cry of disgust and anger already so many times during my stay in Indonesia. Frequently it is followed by a loud clapping sound or two, three or even more. The clapping sound is not to call the nyamuk the clapper is referring to, closer (as you would do in Indonesia to attract the attention of someone), but it is a desperate attempt to kill the little flying insect. Sometimes this works, and the clapper will than be even more disgusted because often his or her hand will be covered, not only with dead insect, but also with blood it took from one or more of the nyamuk’s latest visited volunteering victims.
Anyway, a nyamuk is something to be careful of in these parts of the world, because they spread some nasty diseases like malaria and dengue fever, hereby confirming your guess: I am talking about mosquitoes!
The malaria in Jakarta is rather harmless and can be easily cured, but the dengue fever can be quiet dangerous, especially when you already had a different variant before (there are 4 variants). To prevent the spread of dengue, a lot of places in Jakarta get ‘fogged’ frequently. However, this measure does not clear the danger for dengue, because it does not kill the mosquitoes, it only drives them away.
In the time I have been here, I developed a theory about cars and nyamuks. It dawned to me a few months ago, and since than I only get a confirmation of my theory in almost every experiment I do. The experiment is easy: just get into a car (any car, including taxis), start driving and wait for the first nyamuk to appear. This will not take long; within a few minutes, a nyamuk will appear and try to get a taste of your blood (this is the event that triggers the cry and the clapping I was referring to earlier). The conclusion of my experiments: EVERY CAR IN JAKARTA HAS ONE OR MORE NYAMUK INSIDE… Only in a very few cases, I could not confirm, but if you don’t see a nyamuk, it does not mean that there is none – some of the more clever buggers will attack from behind, without ever showing their faces.
Clapping is one of the less effective measures you can take and it does not eliminate the chance that you will be bitten. More effective is the electrical tennis racket that also can be used to scare of importunate sellers or kupu-kupu malam (although I never tried it, I can imagine it would), but still… you can be bitten by the ones you missed (I mean nyamuk, not the kupu-kupu malam, … I think). Most effective, however, is the use of the canned anti-nyamuk sprays from a well known brand (it sounds like bye, gone). Using it, it will kill all nyamuk that come in touch with the spray. Actually, it will kill every insect that comes in contact with the spray: mosquitoes, flies, ants, cockroaches, etc… Probably even people will be “Bye, Gone” after inhaling too much of the stuff…

There is definitely a new trend in the way taxi drivers address their bule customer. I discovered it about two weeks ago and until today, it is still getting worse. Maybe it is just my imagination, or coincidence, but I feel there is a new trend.
I’ve been living in Jakarta for more than a year now, using the taxi as my major means of transportation. This is because we only have one company driver and one company car, which is used by the big boss whenever he is in Jakarta (about 80% of the time). In all that time, I only had one bad experience a taxi driver, and that was mainly because, at that time, I did not speak enough Indonesian to point the driver in the right way to “Mal Kelapa Gading” (he probably knew the way himself, but later he explained he was ‘baru’ (new) and had never been to Mal Kelapa Gading before). This occurrence guided me to learn at least the right words for turn left, turn right, go straight and make a u-turn in Indonesian. After that I had no trouble in taking any taxi (even “Tarif Lama”). Until two weeks ago.
Because the taxi company that services the apartments I live in does not have too many taxis, they often run out of taxis in the morning. If that happens, I usually go outside the compound and stop a taxi in the Tanjung Duren Raya (which is a busy street so it never takes me more than 1 minute to get one). I stop one of the white taxis and get in. After the good mornings, he asks me “Where to mister?” (they always say “mister”). “Ke Tanjung Duren Selatan, Pak”. He looks at in a strange way and than says: “To Airport? Ya?”. I explain to him I don’t want to go to airport, but to my office. The guy gets a little angry and says that he thinks it is a too short ride, but still, he delivers me to the office.
Two days later, I manage to get hold of another taxi in the same way. The driver also thinks it is too short to take a taxi so he offers to not use the meter. I say to him that I want him to use the meter but he bluntly refuses… so I say he will get not more than 10000 for the ride (the standard I give; it is normally about 8000 if the meter is used). Arriving at the office, I give him 10000. He says it is not enough and I should pay him at least 20000, which I off course refuse.
A few days later, it even happened with a taxi that serves the apartments. Again the taxi driver offers to drive me without using the meter. So I say that he has the choice of driving me and using the meter, or not using the meter, but driving without me. If you take a taxi that has to queue for his next ride, this is a good way to handle it, because he looses his place in the queue and it can take a long time before he gets first in the queue again. So the driver turns on the meter and drives me.
Saturday, Sam (a colleague from QnAp) and I went to practice on the Pluit MegaMal Driving Range. After practicing, we wanted to go to Manga Dua Mall, so we take a taxi from the queue at MegaMal. The driver also did not want to use the meter, but we made him to…
It seems that all drivers stop want to using the meter when a “bule” gets in the car… But the one I had yesterday was even more frank: he demanded I pay him 15000 for an 8000 ride, because the 15000 is the minimum. When I did not want to pay him he got very angry and aggressive. I paid the 5000 extra (I wanted to pay him 10000) and left the car.
I learnt some lessons in the last few days: I will note down the drivers name in future and make a complained at his taxi company if he tries to trick me…

After working all day, most of the expats want to have some fun in some dodgy bar, preferably in South-Jakarta. The most visited places are situated in and near notorious Blok M, and in my opinion, the place with the highest concentration of bules, especially on a Friday night, is Kemang. Kemang (Kemang Raya) is a street near Blok M that is actually littered with bars, restaurants, discotheques and hotels (with bars and restaurants). One of the first places you will come across there (at least if you are entering Kemang from the north) is the Eastern Promise.
Eastern Promise is a project of the managers of BuGils and Cazbar, two places I like to go, so I was bound to visit the Eastern Promise some day. That day was last Friday (1-Sep-2006). I followed my normal Friday night routine: come home from work, take a shower, and take a taxi to the place I want to spend most of my Friday night. This time it would be Kemang. The road was stuck as usual on a Friday night, too bad I always have to go south to visit the good places. After one and a half hour of traffic jams, we arrived at Kemang. I was worried that I would not find the place easily, because previous experiences with Kemang told me that most of the places don’t really advertise their existence with big signs, so I asked the taxi driver to drive slowly, which was a stupid request; the traffic did not allow us to drive more than about 5 km per hour anyway. I knew the place was near the beginning of the street, (according to Internet resources) next to Bank Niaga, which I spotted almost immediately. But next to this bank, there are two more banks, and next to that, the Eastern Promise, announced on a big billboard above the entrances (yes… the place has 2 entrances!). After paying the taxi driver, I entered the place via the entry to the bar. The bar really looks like a ‘cafe’ in Belgium (or Holland)… a lot of bules, mainly concentrated near the ‘bar’ at the left. I immediately saw I would not be able to get a seat to have my (now already very late) dinner. So I walked through saloon style swing doors I spotted at the left and entered a whole new world. This was a small restaurant and most of the tables where still empty. In the back of the restaurant, I could se a door leading to the back yard, from which sounds of a band doing a soundcheck floated in. It was something I surely would like to investigate after my dinner. Not long after I seated, one of the waitresses brought me the menu. I choose onion soup and spaghetti Bolognese, because I was not in the mood for eating French fries again (I had a quick lunch with Sam at the McDonalds in Citraland earlier that day), nor was I in the mood to eat some of the Indian food that was also on the menu. The soup was very good, the spaghetti was ok, the one in BuGils is much better. But the food was not bad. I definitely have to try the Indian food one day.
As I planned before my dinner, I wandered through the back doors to the ‘garden’, again arriving in a completely different setting. The back door garden looked like a terrace in Bokrijk (this is a place in Belgium, where old buildings are rebuild in a kind of an open air museum, and where the tourists’ food needs are accommodated in restaurants with large outdoor terraces, that can only be used for about 20 percent of the time because of the frequent rainy weather) but much smaller. There was a bar and a podium on which a band (The Elwood) was playing rock and blues classics from the old days, and they where doing a good job. There where not too many people there yet, so I still could choose a nice seat, from where I had an overview of the whole scenery.
It did not take long before the back door garden was crowded. Bules with or without companion came in and ordered beer. My position was very good and I could observe everyone… people really behave strange when they are in a group… especially when they are drunk. But it was very funny to look at them.
The band continued to play, and got some reinforcement from a bule girl. Before she mounted the stage, she put on a utility belt. I thought she was one of the technicians and was going to fix the bas amplifier (not that there was something wrong with it), but it turned out to be Kiri Harp, a harmonica player. The utility belt contained a collection of harmonicas. She played a mean harmonica!
After the band played their first set (which took about 2 hours), I decided to go home. I am sure I will return to the Eastern Promise a lot!