Extra Bonus Indonesia Post

It’s one thing to be on a beautiful tropical island. It’s another thing to be there for work. I recently spent 8 days at a beach resort on Bali. I recently spent 8 days wearing a suit running around from dawn to dusk in a conference center. The two together do not compute.

My hotel, the Ayodya, was fronted by multi-tiered ponds framed by giant Hindu dieties. The lobby was constructed of forests of tropical wood, burnished to a fine shine in the evening lights. The Hyatt hotel, where I spent much of my time preparing for the upcoming conference, featured a giant water slide and a majestic view from the lobby to the sparkling ocean. As I hurried along bent over my blackberry trading emails with my colleagues, I quickly passed by German men in mankinis and Russian women in little at all. Japanese kids squealed as they splashed in the pool, while Chinese couples sipped iced drinks in the shade. I loosened my tie and shuffled my papers. Good times, good times.

Due to the wonders of jet lag, however, I awoke every morning early enough to run or walk on the beach at sunrise. Prior the sun’s full ignition, I only had to battle high humidity as I jogged along the path running between Nusa Dua’s high end resorts and the wide, sandy beach. Tourists began to congregate by the water’s edge to snap photos of the day’s beginning (I did too on my final day). Five minutes after the sun popped over the horizon, the heat jumped and it was soon time to end exercise and begin to focus on memo drafting.

By mid-morning, while scurrying from meeting to meeting, I periodically glanced at the ocean. Beautiful, clear blue with blindingly bright white foam on the beating surf. The Hyatt grounds, flush with red, purple and pink flowers and bright green foliage, sparkled in the bright sunshine. The conference center, on the other hand, was sterile and over-air conditioned.

A note about Nusa Dua – It is in Indonesia, but not in Indonesia. An area with dozens of high-end international hotels, golf courses, with an outdoor shopping center straight out of American suburbia. I don’t think the Hyatt had an Indonesian restaurant, though it did have Japanese and Italian. Other than pseudo-Indonesian architecture and Indonesian servers, there wasn’t much to differentiate the group of resorts from similar groups in places like the Caribbean. Reminded me a bit of stopping in the Hoffbrau House in Munich as a backpacker after college. I don’t think there was a single German customer. But, I remember having a great time drinking beer with a group of Finns. Nusa Dua is something like that. Plastic, full of Europeans and North Asians, but an interesting juxtaposition, nonetheless.

Anyway, I protest too much, as I got to enjoy several nice dinners. Twice, we went to a seafood place on Jimbaran beach named Ganesha. The breeze picked up nicely as the sun set making Bali evenings quite comfortable. On the beach, with a drink and some freshly grilled garupa or snapper, things didn’t seem so bad. When four locals with guitars stopped by to serenade us with their takes on Western pop (large selection, limited range), it made for a very pleasurable evening. Once the conference wrapped up, I joined a small group heading to the stylish Potato Head on Semanyak beach. Yes, I did not mean stylish ironically. The Bali branch of a hip Jakarta spot, Potato Head seemed more like something on South Beach, with a sleek bar and beach scene. We sat on a large bed overlooking the ocean. 3 forty-something guys surrounded by what appeared to be a group of Scandinavian high school students on break from the nearest international school. Blended right in.

Following the conference, I had a free afternoon and drove into Kuta. On the way, if I looked up, I could see dozens of kites soaring in the strong breeze. Many shaped like catfish, they seemed to swim rather than to fly. Once outside of Nusa Dua, the infrastructure slipped a bit, the stores began to cluster by the road and more and more motorbikes joined us as we drove. We passed several Hindu temples (Bali is the only Hindu-majority island in largely Muslim Indonesia). We also passed a few Dunkin’ Donuts and McDonalds. We ended in the crowded Kuta strip favored by Australian surfers and European backpackers. Our friend Annika Linden was killed there in 2002 in a terrorist bomb and I stopped by to visit the memorial. Crammed in on the site of one of the bars destroyed in the blast, the memorial attracted many visitors. Incongruous in this bustling neighborhood of bars and souvenir stalls, it attracted a combination of serious-minded visitors, assorted gawkers, and camera toting spectators, smiling while photographed each other. Not to be all preachy, but I couldn’t see how the spot on which over 200 people were murdered less than a decade ago should be snapped as a fun afternoon stop on a vacation, but not much I could do about it.

Special Bonus Indonesia Post January 2011

I recently traveled to Indonesia for work, visiting our Embassy in Jakarta and our Consulate General in Surabaya. I have complained in the past about the time it takes to travel from DC to Bangkok or Hanoi, but neither is as far as Jakarta. From DC, it’s a 14 hour flight to Seoul, a quick overnight at a hotel, and a 7.5 hour flight the next day. By the time I arrived, I was completely discombobulated. However, I quickly recovered through my foolproof strategy to defeat jet-lag - I simply cannot sleep on planes – Therefore, I arrive at my destination completely exhausted, drag myself around until the early evening and then collapse into bed, which normally puts me onto the normal local rhythm.

While in Jakarta, I had the opportunity to see old friends from my foreign service entering class, and from Embassies Bangkok and Hanoi. I spent one evening with our friends Ted and Clayton at their beautiful house, down the street from the school Barack Obama attended in the 1960's. I photographed the statue recently unveiled in front of the building portraying young Barry in shorts.

While in Jakarta, I stayed at the Kempinski Hotel Indonesia. The first international hotel in Jakarta, the original Hotel Indonesia was the setting for much of "The Year of Living Dangerously," Christoher Koch's fantastic historical novel about an Australian journalist covering the upheaval in Indonesia in 1965. Though much changed from how it appeared some 45 years ago, it still bears a resemblance to the fascade featured in the movie version starring Sigourney Weaver and Mel Gibson (pre-Nazi vintage). As I sat down for a drink in the lobby bar I tried to picture the book's hero, Guy Hamilton, meeting with his journalistic competitors and (spoiler alert) as I walked out to my car I tried to locate the window from which Billy Kwan met his end.

Superficially, Jakarta reminded me somewhat of Bangkok. A huge, sprawling city with various groupings of modern skyscrapers, set off like mountain ranges among valleys of low and mid-range construction, Jakarta boasts all of the top end hotels and many luxury malls. Food also seems to be a priority, ranging from high-end European to thousands of street stalls selling local fare. However, Jakarta has never constructed the transportation infrastructure that Bangkok boasts, though it still retains some of the greenery that Bangkok has lost over the years. While many Indonesian women don the modest jilibab or headcovering, I encountered some extremely short skirts (and quickly looked away) while navigating some upscale areas.

After 4 days in Jakarta, I flew 400 miles across Java to spend 2 days in Surabaya, Indonesia's second largest city and the gateway to many of the outer islands. While there, I stayed at the historic Majapahit hotel, constructed a century ago by the Sarkies brothers, who also built the Raffles in Singapore and the Strand in Rangoon. Renovated in the 1980s, it has returned to much of its colonial glory, with stained glass windows set into carved, wooden walls, white painted gables, and well-manicured lawns. Though now set on a busy street, within it is a return to world that no longer exists.

On Saturday morning, I joined some of our consulate staff on a tour of old Surabaya. Surabaya is an industrial city and while containing many modern conveniences, it’s not an overtly beautiful place. However, our guide, a 20 year resident of the city who teaches at the international school, took us through the old quarter, where we viewed several early 20th century Dutch buildings, several of which remain remarkably well-preserved, complete with original art-deco advertisements. We also visited the local market, where friendly market ladies ran stall after stall selling garlic and shallots. We then walked through the Chinese quarter, with its streets named after the goods that used to be sold by in stores on the thoroughfares. We passed down Chocolate Street, though, alas, chocolate was no longer sold there. We then walked through the Arab quarter and its market filled with dates from around the Middle East, skull caps, and Arabic music. Finally, we stopped by the Sampoerna museum, dedicated to a local Sino-Indonesian who made a fortune in cigarettes. The facility contains a still-operating work floor where hundreds of local women roll the kreteks (clove cigarettes) so popular in Indonesia and American college dormitories. Paid by the number of cigarettes they roll, the women are almost mechanical in the operations, hypnotizing viewers with their quick, precise, repetitive motions.

Then, after a quick 2 day return to Washington and the cold, it was back to work.