
Sitting down at the airport lounge thinking of whatever flavor left in my mouth from 7 days I tasted this city. Its not anything new, it certainly is something that is somewhat familiar. Dust dances on the road, the greasy smell of left over snacks thrown carelessly on the dirty street, the rushing walks on the sidewalks, car horns blazing across the busy street.
I used to share my walks over here in this city, I used to dance among the dust, avoiding rushing and cursing taxi drivers, I did my share of honking and cussing among these wide lighted streets (the one when you look only straight ahead, you wont notice the pitiful rumbled smelly card box some people called home). I used to be one of this. 4 years ago.
Jakarta. This city has 2 faces. The one side is clean, pretty, busy city that has that superior grand feeling all stuck up city has. The one when you walk among them you feel all grandeurized and suddenly sophisticated. The one that seep inside you secretly addicting when you know how to talk the talk and walk the walk. The one that makes you feel you are something.
The other face is ugly. And smelly, and sweaty, and dirty, and ridiculously annoying, and intolerably dangerous and ruthless. The crime rate is high ever since the new government order..well it has never been really low, but now it is just ridiculously scary. It doesn’t take me more than a day to get paranoid. It doesn’t take me more than a day to learn few Jakarta rules of safe living:
1. Don’t leave your purse out of sight.
2. Don’t carry your purse and looking like you are so carefree with it. And don’t leave it opened.
3. Don’t leave your purse without tight attendance.
4. Don’t walk alone at night.
5. Don’t use your handphone while driving
6. Don’t leave your handphone in sight.
7. Better yet, don’t look like you own handphone.
8. always lock your car door, if you happened to stop at red lights, don’t look around looking oblivious. Always stay alert.
I came here carrying the island attitude that I have adopted really well. Laid back, generally trusting, and carefree. One hour spent at malls with my jakartan friends was enough to turn me into an uptight city chick. Few regular phrases I was forced to get familiar with are:
"Em, watch your purse"
"Em, don’t carry your hand phone that way"
"Jesus Em, close your purse will you"
"Em, be careful of your purse. Don’t carry it like that"
I was bombarded with warnings, slapped here and there, until I got to the point of never letting go of my purse. Holding it really tightly as if it was some godly possession I have to guard with my life. I was at the point of fooling myself that whatever in that purse was something I cant live without, something I’m willing to die for. And in no time I lost all the trace of why I left this city 4 yrs ago.
Yesterday evening, my friend asked me to have a dinner at this one big posh-like mall in Jakarta. And 2 hrs before I spent fretting my ass off on what to wear, how much money I should bring, and how I should wear my hair. Questions like would I need to get my nails and hair done, and most importantly, how should I wear my smile.
Should I carry that loud snorting island laugh of mine (the one that flashes all your teeth and jiggle your tummy) or should I carry that sheepish sophisticated city smile (the one where your mouth reaches only quarter of your face, stopping at the right place where your cheekbones are properly mounted). These inconsequential trivila questions are filling my head rapidly and drowning me. I almost canceled the appointment. But I went. Wearing the ol’ little island me, sun kissed, laid back jeans and tight t-shirt, washed hair half dried, and some barely there make up (seriously.. I suck at make up, I figure, rather than being the laughing stock of impeccably polished jakartan girls cuz of my purple eye shadow, I just go without it). I wore the one and only Anna Sui high heels shoes that I own, however. At least I wouldn’t look too much like an island freak.
Arrived there, my friend greeted me and the first thing she said was, " oh god, you look soooo cutely island-ish,". I smiled. Not knowing what to say, except the usual how are you and do that famous Jakartan cheek to cheek kiss. I wouldn’t want to wreck this reunion with my 2 hrs of fidgeting story when all I could come up with is looking like this. Beside theres no beating the fun of hearing comments from old friends separated for so long and have nothing to say except commenting on each other looks.
I have so many stories I kept in my head during my trip to Jakarta. The capital city of Indonesia. I have so many nods to myself understanding why I cant wait to leave this city.
But I do the walk, and I talk the talk. And I do what is required to survive socially in this city. And Im left feeling like an empty shell. Vulnerable and easy to crush.
I’m at the airport waiting room now waiting for my flight back to Bali, the island that has shaped and deepens my soul, and am feeling this tremendous relief. Relieve that I don’t have to turn so pretentious just so I can have some worth. Relieve that I can keep my soul intact.
But most importantly, that I don’t have to hold my purse so tight no more.
Yeah. Its good to be back.
I missed you like hell. I wish i had my computer when i was in Jakarta. So many stories to tell. Check your mail, babe.