Whenever, Wherever... Shakira Provides Indonesia’s National Anthem

Jakarta has got a little better. At first, I HATED IT. “Jakarta is something to be endured, not enjoyed” I would snarl into my regular breakfast of rice and noodles as the mosquitoes had their own feast on any of part my uncovered flesh. Nothing seemed to run right. Taxi drivers were out to rip us, driving round and round as we screamed “We know it doesn’t cost 48,000 rupiah to get from Tebet to Menteng!” Then they would get out to ‘ask directions’ for the 3rd time. Rice for breakfast everyday at our hotel (and then again at work for lunch) was a minor annoyance. Far more frustrating was the lack of urgency when things went wrong, which led to something I will only describe as ‘the leggings incident’ and one of the most spectacular applications of the ‘slam and flounce’ move I have ever been privileged to witness.

In addition to the leisurely pace, more than a few people in Jakarta seem to be on the take. If money is going begging, it would seem the best plan is to try and get as much of it as you can. Who knows when it may come around again? People are paid to attend meetings here, and I’m not talking about recreational meetings, I mean meetings they actually need to attend for work. But why show up if my transport isn’t covered? And when claiming for transport, why not triple it and add the first number you think of? Then I’ll show up alright.

I think after 21 days (14 to go!) I’m getting the hang of it a bit more. Our friend Reza explained the concept of ‘rubber time’ to me, which is the force that rules Jakarta, causing people to turn up for the event you scheduled at 4pm at maybe at 5pm or 5.30pm. Or 6pm. Here, the traffic, the weather and our vulnerability to the whims of the fates have created a very relaxed attitude about timekeeping. And if you are trying to make a film, or run a workshop, or host a film screening, or indeed, find the leggings that your hotel laundered, well, there’s no rush. It’s not my specific responsibility, someone will sort it out. Maybe. Whenever.

Yesterday gave us an excellent example of a useful application of ‘rubber time’. Me, Dani and our friends Yu Yuen and Markus got trapped in Kemang when the road flooded after hours of pissing rain. It was all the way across the road, up to the knee. Dirty and brown and none of us much fancied crossing it. The guy in Starbucks (where we sought shelter) calmly explained that this happens every time there’s heavy rain. Just one of those things, nothing we can do. Everyone was standing at their respective edges of the floods, shrugging. One man decided to make the most of it by taking his dog for a walk through the water, waving around his sodden flip-flop for the dog to chase as another filmed it on his phone, laughing. Brave (or stupid) young men were ferrying their girlfriends across on their mopeds, stopping once they’d crossed the flood to blow the water out of their exhausts. The general mood was merry. No one seemed to be fretting about the delays to their schedule. Probably because they didn’t have a schedule. After all, anyone they may have arranged to meet knows it would be foolish to expect them at the actual time they said. No rush or worries about getting anywhere, we can just meet up... whenever.

And during the floods, the motto ‘on the take’ took a more enterprising slant. Rain brought a chance to make a little cash; one old man carrying a well-heeled lady across the water in his rubbish cart, others donning their rain macs and frenziedly blowing whistles to direct traffic to safe parking places. A hooker was helping 2 stranded bulé (gweilo) guys by steering their BMW while they pushed it to higher ground. She then held her hand out for some cash, and when she’d got it they negotiated another deal and all went off together. Happy endings all round.
So rule of Jakarta seems to be; when God throws you lemons, don’t just make lemonade, water it down and sell it as liqueur to the stupidest looking bulé you can find. Or just wait around for someone else to make it. It may seem to the casual observer that everything moves slow and everyone’s trying to screw you. But that is part of Jakarta’s playful nature. When your taxi driver looks at you slyly and tries to keep all your change, just smile as slyly back and shake your head. Keep a pleasant demeanour about this good-natured scamming and it won’t get you down. And for fuck’s sake, throw out your schedule and develop the patience of a saint.

Things I like today: Scrambled eggs, toast and baked beans, orange flavoured hot chocolate (I’m scratching myself to death from mozzie bites anyway so I may as well eat yummy stuff I’m allergic to!), flooding, hazelnut hot chocolate, cheesy pasta... notice how much more important food is becoming now what I like to eat is scarce?!!!

Things I don’t like: Finding that even the oddest of people can have someone hot fall for them. And who fancies me...?!!!! I give up!!!!!

The incomparable wonder of Sharron Fast...

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I've got half an hour before I run out the house for a few drinkies this evening so I thought, better blog NOW or end up with pissed rantings later.

Today is basically an ode to my dear friend Sharron, who has given me many beautiful clothes, shoes and handbags, including some still with the tags on and a fake Balenciaga which someone mistook for a real one. Seeing as I'm unsure of even how to spell Balenciaga I am impressed by this.

Today, Sharron also took me and our friend Ramesh to a talk at the uni where she works entitled 'What, Why and How Writers Write'. The four panallists included the lovely Stephen Fry who signed autographs and posed for pictures and who laughed heartily at a quip I made about shoes. I am more pleased with this than I would have been had the talk been on 'What, Why and How Irishmen shag' and the panellist Colin Farrell (who would then subsequently admire my shoes and demand I walk over his back in them). That's just how I roll these days.

Anyway, the wonderous Mr. Fry was very inspirational on writing. Frederick Forsyth, who was also on the panal, said he wrote for the money, would stop writing once he amassed enough money and didn't get writer's block because he was doing a job and being paid for it. Hmmmmmm. Stephen on the other hand was much more artsy fartsy and mentioned P.G. Wodehouse's cure for writers block which is apparently to swear a lot. That's what I like to do myself so this pleased me. Obviously screaming 'FUCKSTICKS!!!' at the top of your voice (while trying to find Ghanan things to do in Hong Kong) is what writers do. He also stated his belief that writer's wrote 'because they have to', and that the two main things a writer needs is to overcome their self-conciousness and to be willing to put in the labour needed to produce writing. I definately agree with him on those two, not so sure if I 'need' to write. I'd love to be that artistic and dramatic but I think the only need I have for writing is as a valve to my brain; otherwise the thoughts all jam up in there and drive me mad. (Oh God, that makes me sound psychotic...)

Incidentally, there were two other panallists. The first being discussion chair, Sir David Tang of 'Shanghai Tang' fame (a sort of Chinese Laura Ashley, a lot more upmarket and expensive but similar in terms in the way they market conservative clothes that attempt to reflect the national identites of their countries but end up being something a posh mum would wear). Sir David was a fierce chairperson, telling people with poorly thought-out questions that they were stupid and offering a potted description of anyone who put their hand up; 'Yes, you the man with the weird moustache', 'Yes, the chubby boy'. Needless to say my hand stayed down as I found him rather terrifying but I did conclude that the BBC's Question Time would be a lot more fun with him as a presenter.

The final panallist was an historical biographer, Andrew Roberts who looked like a dry Conservative pary back bencher but was actually very witty and engaging, particularly when telling how he had received two death threats. The first time, the police dusted for fingerprints on his letterbox and were only able to ascertain that his cleaning lady wore rubber gloves. The second time, he received a threat stating 'death to the Jew Andrew Roberts'. The man had kindly left his name and address on the letter so Andrew turned it into the police, not before pondering whether to write back a note to the man patiently explaining that he wasn't in fact Jewish.

Anyway, then we went for a yummy lunch at Life, the organic vegan cafe where I had eggs bendict and Sharron the most delicious veggie burger in the world. The humble veggie burger is usually the desperate choice of herbivores everywhere as in a lot of restaurants it's only thing us non-meat eaters can have. Consquentially, when you go to an actual, yummy, we-can-have-everything-on-the-menu veggie restaurant you avoid the veggie burger. Been there done that. Boring! But I can only say this was the most delicious, tongue teasing veggie burger I have ever had. Light yet filling, moist not soggy. I have no idea what was in it but I'll be back for one of those in September... To top it all off, while I was in the loo, Sharron did that sneaky thing your mum and her best friend do and paid the bill while I was having a wee as this was 'my going away lunch'. I am spoilt!

Finally, she's taking a suitcase full of my crap back to the UK for me at Christmas, which has saved my ass because, as I type this very blog, I still have too much stuff and not enough time to get it the hell out of my flat!

Basically, it's been a brilliant day. Thanks Fasty.

Today I like; The inspiring Stephen Fry, veggie food, my new 1950s style dress courtesy of Sharron, listening to my ipod on he MTR, ignoring my shit everywhere by going for a drinkie with friends at The Fringe.

Today I don't like; All the things I still have to do before I go to Jakarta- aaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!

BAH.

For a girl who can't drink anymore I seem to be starting many blogs with 'ugh I'm tired and I've had a drink so I can't write and... zzzzzzzz...' and here is yet another one. I've eaten a lot today. I had four cocktails which, nowadays is about all I can take without passing out into a coma.

Stream of conciousness: Last night I had torturous dreams about getting rid of our sofa, then as soon as I got rid of it another one appeared. And a dining table. And lamps! I had all this furnaiture I couldn't get rid of- why why why why WHYYYYYYY?!

I have to make a big long list of all the things I have to do. I have ten days until I leave for Jakarta. I have packing and research and life to organinse.

This is less a blog, more just pointless. I have to sleep now. Goodnight!

Today I like: Creamy pasta, lots of pudding, cocktails, floating resturants.

Today I dislike: Massive boats with posh people on them.