Finding the hidden gem in Jakarta - October 6-7, 2007

I have to admit that my first impressions of Jarkata weren't great. As I drive in from the airport, my view of the city is blurred by a thick layer of smog, and after the beauty and calm of Borneo, the relentless noise from honking motos and cars grates on me. Still limping from my hike up Mt. Kinabalu, I decide to spend my first evening partaking in the decadent services of my mid-range hotel which includes ordering room service, getting a one-hour in-room massage and catching up on my CSI episodes on the satellite TV!

The next day, I decide to venture out of the safe enclave of my hotel to see what this city of 8.75 million people offers. I take in a small national museum housing Javanese sculptures, batiks, ceramics and pottery and a somewhat ugly National Monument erected by Indonesian dictator Soekarno to mark the country's independence from the Dutch in 1949. It's amusing to browse through the collection of historical dioramas at the base of the monument, which depicts in great detail the glorious battles of Indonesian resistance against its colonial masters, yet makes no mention of Soekarno or Soeharto, the Indonesian dictators who ruled the country through much of the 20th century.

Here's a smoggy view of Jarkata's main mosque



Sightseeing can be a bit frustrating for pedestrians like me with haphazard sidewalks and non-existent crosswalks and traffic lights. And after my one-day of sightseeing, my impression of Jarkata remained somewhat negative; a typically Asian city - huge, polluted and busy -- but without the French colonial charm of Phnom Penh, the vibrant diversity of KL or the spectular temples of Bangkok.

Then, on my final night, I wandered a few blocks down from my hotel to see if I could find a cheap place to eat. I headed toward a street that during the day, was quiet but had a few vendors hawking their noodle soups from carts. By night, I was surprised to see it transformed into a lively night market with makeshift restaurants setting themselves up along the sidewalks and wandering minstrels serenading hapless diners for a few hundred rupiah. As I sat there chowing down my nasi goreng ayam (chicken fried rice) and watching the vibrant cacophony of families, courting couples and young children laughing and flitting in and out of stalls, I was glad to have gotten this glimpse of Jakarta, a tiny gem among the steel and concrete.