Driving in Indonesia

The roads in Indonesia are a place where you can expect to see anything. You'll see trucks, buses, cars, motorbikes, bicycles and becaks. You'll see 4 people on one motorbike, kids not wearing helmets and children driving. As you are driving, any type of vehicle could pull out in front of you, you could find the road completely flooded, someone could open a car door without looking or a caterpillar chilling out on your handbrake could sting you (as I discovered a few months back). You will see people transporting anything imaginable by motorbike- a TV, a fridge, another motorbike even. Anyway, it’s crazy out there.

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The first time I rode a motorbike was when I asked an old friend of mine to teach me how in a quiet housing area in West Surabaya. I was very nervous about it but was happy to be learning on a road with no traffic. Soon enough, that “friend” of mine directed me out onto a main road despite the fact I asked him to stay off the main roads. All I could do was scream “We are going to die! I don’t know what I’m doing!”. Not long after that, I was back in Australia and decided to practice there on an empty camping ground. It was much safe but nothing like Surabaya.  When I arrived back in Surabaya, I got a motorbike. The first few months of driving were a little stressful. I didn't know my way around and almost ended up in Madura instead of my house. I crashed into a brick wall at some stage, which wounded my ego more than anything else. Driving here took some getting used to.

Motorbikes can be used to transport anything

Organising a motorbike is also somewhat difficult for a foreigner as we are not allowed to own one ourselves. For the first 3 months I rented from a guy I worked with. He asked me to pay for $150 for 3 months straight up and he gave me a shiny Honda Revo. I really liked the bike and was happy with the arrangement. When I went on Christmas break, he asked if he could pick up the bike and get it serviced while I was away. It all seemed fine. When I returned to work in January I asked him for the bike back. He then explained that it was actually his friends bike and that friend had taken it back. He instead offered me a different bike to replace it. The new bike was an older bike, but initially I didn't mind because I didn't really care so much about what my bike looked like.

My beloved Crypton.

This bike soon became a problem as it would often die at traffic lights and be impossible to start again. Sometimes I couldn't even start the bike at all. Adding to that, it burned a lot of petrol when I took road trips out of town. It wasn't the best bike to deal with as a new driver. After 2 months of dealing with this bike and complaining about it at work on a daily basis, the guy I work with had the audacity to ask if I wanted to hire it for another month. I organized a new motorbike and stopped using the Crypton. I told the guy I had hired it from that he could pick it up from my house but it seemed that he didn't want to take it. It stayed there for weeks without being used.

Being one of the small percentage of Western people in Surabaya, I seem to attract a lot of
(mostly unwanted) attention here. While riding a motorbike, I have found that people will often start conversations with me on the road. People will yell things from trucks and cars sometimes. And occasionally you could be followed home. 

The first time someone followed me home, I started to notice him on my street but didn't know what to do. I was driving very slowly hoping he would overtake but he stayed behind me. When I stopped at the front of my house he slowed down, touched my breasts and drove off. A drive-by groping?

Another time, as I was driving home I noticed a guy on a motorbike stopped ahead of me at a set of traffic lights. He kept adjusting his mirrors and I could see him looking at me though the mirror. At the next set of traffic lights he stopped next to me and asked me where I lived. I lied and said the name of an area on the other side of town. I drove off and he stayed behind me. I was really close to home so I decided to take a few wrong turns. He was still behind me. I didn't know what to do so I turned into my street from the wrong direction and was travelling the wrong way down the one-way road. He was right behind me. I yelled at him to go stop following me. I pulled up out the front of my house and he stopped as well.

“Are you an English teacher?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Do you work at EF?”

“How do you even know that?” I asked.

“I followed you from EF. Can I have your phone number?” he asked. 

“No! This is my boyfriend’s house. You need to leave now! He will kill you.” I yelled. (I think I may have yelled many other things but I don't remember what I said.)

I was lucky that at that moment my former housemate Stinky Steve arrived home.

“You need to leave now,” I yelled again to the guy on the street.

I guess he assumed Stinky Steve was my boyfriend and left.

The police are another problem you have to deal with. I don't have a license and don't really try to not break road laws. Sometimes I will drive on the wrong side of the road, go through red lights or make illegal turns. It's just how this country works. Every so often, the police will stop you. The most effective way to deal with this is speak a lot of English because the police in Surabaya rarely can speak English. Eventually, they get confused and let you go. Sometimes you have to pay a bribe and the bribe you pay seems to be proportionate to how wealthy you look. For example, my Madurese ex-boyfriend used to pay about 30,000 rupiah, most people seem to pay 50,000 rupiah and my other ex-boyfriend paid 250,000 rupiah. When I got stopped by the police they asked for 500,000 rupiah and I argued it down to 100,000.

Sometimes I get frustrated with the police but it is a little stupid. I got stopped by the police in Australia for taking an illegal right turn in Clayton (I didn't even realise that I was breaking the law) and had to pay around $200 (or close to that amount anyway). In Surabaya however, after 2.5 years of breaking the law deliberately every day, I have paid just $10 to the police. 

Overall, I think driving here is great. You may need to think of a good strategy to deal with being followed and you always need to be careful. But once you silence that voice in your head that constantly tells you you're going to die, it's actually pretty fun driving here.

The last seven days

From my previous posts, you can see what happens when things get weird. It might paint a picture that things are always weird but I wouldn't say that weird things happen everyday. However, I would say it's probably more often that in most other counties. As evidence, I present this- a few little strange moments I have had in the past seven days.....

Friday

After posting on my blog on Friday morning, I left for work (as usual). It was an ordinary day at work. The day before I had received an Instagram direct message from the manager of my favourite band (NOAH) saying “do you like beer?” which eventually lead to an invitation to go for some drinks after work on Friday. Of course I agreed.

On Friday night, it turned out the manager was busy playing indoor football, so I went to a café with a friend instead. Later, as I dropped my friend off at home, I received another message from the manager of NOAH saying that he was back at the hotel. I asked him if it was okay to leave my motorbike at the hotel as I didn’t want to drive after drinking and I could easily pick it up from there the next day. He said it was fine.

As I reached the hotel lobby, I received another message from the manager saying  “sorry I have a meeting now, I can’t go out”. Well, these things seem to have a way of working out in my favor. Immediately, I ran into the guitarist and drummer of the band, who were drinking coffee in the lobby and I decided to have a drink and chat with them instead.  

Saturday

Straight from work, I headed to the NOAH concert at Makodam Stadium. I arrived three hours before NOAH were set to play so I knew I was in for a big wait. I’m used to attending concerts alone and it’s not really a problem because it is easy to find someone to talk to in Indonesia anyway. I sat on the ground and ate a chocolate muffin and eventually started chatting to some random people around me.

After a while, one of the event’s security guards started talking to me. He asked a lot of personal questions about my reasons for being in Indonesia, my dating history and why I have watched NOAH so many times. The problem was, everyone nearby decided to listen to the conversation and laughed at half the things I said.

“You can’t stand here” he said.

“Why not? I’m already here.” I replied

“Because you are different. It’s dangerous up here because a lot of people will push from behind.”

“It’s more dangerous back there because there are pickpockets, I feel safe up here with the real fans, I don’t mind if I get pushed.”

“You should climb the fence and watch it here with me.” he said pointing to the area directly in front of the stage.

“No thank you, I’d rather watch it from here” I said (of course it’s more fun to watch a concert with other fans right?).

“If you climb over, I’ll take you backstage to get a photo with NOAH” he urged.

“No thank you, I already have a photo.”

“You can meet NOAH again then!” he said

“I don’t think it’s fair because I have already met them before. Maybe take someone else instead” I said, trying to make an excuse.

"Well at least stand at the fence" he said indicating that I should stand in front of a girl who was standing there.

"No, it's okay. She's been waiting longer than me. I'm fine here, I've seen a lot of concerts and I'll be okay" I assured him. 

Eventually he left me to watch the show.

The show was good, but I did get pushed a lot, but that's normal concert stuff. A random guy let me get up on his shoulders. I saw the band members look at me and laugh. I saw the security guard from earlier and waved at him. While I was up there my favourite song came on and I danced like crazy until I realised there was a close up of me on the two huge TV screens at the concert. Then I realised how ridiculous I looked and got down.

Overall it was an excellent evening.

Sunday

Woke up covered in bruises and in a lot of pain, so stayed in bed all day (seriously the only time I got out of bed was to get the pizza I ordered from the front gate). I guess nothing weird happens if you stay in bed.

Monday

This was a really good day. Got a massage, went swimming, bought new sunglasses and ate cake. Nothing strange happened, just an awesome day.

Tuesday

As I was opening the front gate to leave for work a man riding past on a bicycle stopped out front.

“Australian dollar!”  he said

“What?”

He pulled out his wallet

“I have Australian dollars! How many rupiah to one Australian dollar?”

“I don’t know” I said.

“Can I exchange my dollars for rupiah?” he said

“I don’t need Australian dollars.”

“Okay, no problem” he said and drove away (no idea how he knew I was Australian).

Wednesday

I barely remember Wednesday, so probably nothing worth mentioning happened.

Thursday

In the morning, I went to collect my clothes from the laundry place. I have been going to Save Laundry every week for about 18 months. Today as I was collecting my clothes, the owner handed me a plastic bag with a bottle in it.
"It is happy birthday Save Laundry. This is Fanta. Thank you for being our customer" she said.
So apparently on the anniversary of your laundry place opening, you should give your customers free soft drink... Good to know.

The work day went by fairly normally...

As I walked to my motorbike in the parking lot after work, a guy looked over at me.

"Beautiful" he said.

"Oh thanks" I replied.

"You can speak Indonesian?" he asked.

"Yea I can" I replied.

"Where do you live?"

"Kenjeran" I lied

"How can you be so beautiful?"

I laughed awkwardly.

"Is your mother beautiful?" he asked.

"Yes..." I said and drove away. 

(By the way, these kind of conversations happen quite often).

So, I guess this actually proves that weird stuff really doesn't happen everyday (just 4/7 days). I'm totally ready for the next weird adventures.... 

People you'll meet at Circle K

I have two stories for you.

I was actually going to try to wait for a third story to add to these two, but seeming as I don't ordinarily hang out at Circle K, I would be going out to deliberately make something weird happen. I don't think that is the way I want my blog to be (my stories so far are just weird stuff that happened on its own). So, I have decided just to tell you the two stories. 

Both of these stories were set in Circle K (a small convenience store) on Sosrowijayan Street in Jogja. I should note that in Indonesia it's perfectly fine to drink beer outside a convenience store and you'll find many people enjoying a drink outside Circle K . Well, you would if you were in Indonesia in the past, mini-marts are now not allowed to sell alcohol :'(.

I'll also add that in Jogja there is a term called bule hunter (foreigner hunter?). I've never heard it used outside Jogja but perhaps it exists elsewhere too. Bule hunters are people who deliberately hang out in touristy places in order to hopefully meet foreigners. To be honest, I don't think it's really a thing, because people are just attracted to who they are attracted to and I think going to a strategic location to meet people who are attractive to you is actually quite smart. Perhaps, the two boys I'm going to tell you about could be considered bule hunters but I'm not sure. Whether they are or not, they're still weird stories. 

Without further ado, I'd like to introduce Luppa and Dimas.


Luppa

On evening, in early 2012 (just before my Summer romance story came about), Mel and I were sitting out the front of Circle K. We were enjoying a nice bottle of Mixmax (sugary pre-mixed vodka drink) and listening to the tunes from Bintang Café. We met some of the locals. One of which was a young guy named Luppa. Luppa was a travel agent in the area and seemed to spend a lot of time with young foreign ladies as he showed us many photos of his "friends".

Despite his many excursions with foreigners, Luppa claimed not to like foreigners at all. But apparently we weren't considered foreigners as we spoke Indonesian (side note: if only more people actually thought this, because I'm sick of being called a "tourist" in the city I live in). As the night went on and the music from Bintang Café ended, Luppa invited us to go clubbing. I’m not a huge fan of clubbing to be honest but we were on holiday and it seemed like fun.

We walked to Republik which is the closest club to where we were staying. Straight away, Luppa brought a tower of beer and poured Mel and I a glass each. We tried to refuse the beer, but Luppa insisted. I know he may have meant well, but as two girls alone in Indonesia, we decided to play it safe and throw the beer into the toilet.

“Wow, have you already finished your beer?” asked Luppa as we came out of the restrooms. “Are you already drunk?”

“No. Of course not. We have stuff to do tomorrow, so we can’t drink too much” I replied.

“Okay,” he said “If you really aren’t drunk then do you remember my name?”

“Luppa” I said. ("lupa" means forget in Indonesian)

“How could you forget it? I remember your name”.
I bet he has used that same joke 385495050434934 times.

After a bit of dancing and enjoying the sexy dancers at the (clearly extremely classy) club, Luppa seemed to get more confident. 

“Do you know Jack Johnson?” he asked Mel.

It seemed like the start of an ordinary conversation about music so she told him that she liked his music. 

“Do you know the song three is a magic number?”
He continued looking at Mel then over to me and smiling.

“Three is a good number yea?” he asked flirtatiously. Looking from Mel, to me and back to her again. He seemed to repeat his feelings on number three over and over and it seemed like he was hinting at something...

"Umm... I don't know the song," said Mel. 
(We still aren't really sure what song he was talking about but it seems like its a song called 'The 3 R's' which is about recycling, not what he was talking about).

Not long after that conversation Mel pulled me aside and told me what had happened.
“I think he just asked us for a threesome!” said Mel. “What do we do?”

“I think it’s time to leave now.” I said.

Mel agreed and we ran straight out of the club and all the way back to out guesthouse without ever saying goodbye to Luppa. 

Dimas 

I met Dimas (I'll use his real name because it's a super common name anyway) at the end of 2012. He was young, pretty cute and very artistically talented. He didn't seem to be super smart and his fashion choices were a bit weird (he was seriously wearing triple denim and a piece of rope as a belt when I met him) but he was nice enough to talk to.

Dimas- double denim version, outside Circle K.

I met Dimas a few times while I was staying in Jogja, I was travelling alone and my $6 a night hotel was 50 meters from Circle K. Dimas seemed to be there a lot so I chatted to him a few times as I was walking past. One afternoon, Dimas was there with his friends and he invited me to go to karaoke. I agreed as I had no other plans.

We drove there on Dimas's motorbike chatting along the way. Dimas had free vouchers to the karaoke place as he had painted a big mural on the walls surrounding the building. 
"You can pay for the food because I have no money." he told me rather directly when we arrived.
Of course, I didn't mind paying for some snacks but the way he asked was super rude. I decided not to make a big deal out of it and ordered a few snacks and drinks.
I thought Dimas's friends were coming but when we got there I realised it was just the two of us. The idea of two people singing karaoke for 2 hours seemed a bit grueling but I just went with it anyway.

Dimas requested the furthest karaoke room from the cashier and we went in. I started choosing all my favorite songs immediately and we sang a couple of songs. Then, Dimas kissed me. I was kind of taken aback by it and just ignored it and continued singing.
"Do you want to do it?" he asked.
"Huh? Here? What? This is Top 40 family karaoke. Family karaoke right? You can't do that!" 
"I've done it before, it's okay, I know the guys who work here." he said smugly.
"Uh...." I said completely stunned.
"The staff here know what we are doing, they won't come in" he assured me.
"We aren't doing any of that!" I said "Umm... let's just sing some NOAH..."
"I thought you knew that I was bringing you here for that" he explained.
"No... I would have never thought that...  I thought karaoke places were for singing?" I said, not really knowing what to do or say.
"Okay fine, let's just sing" he said looking disappointed.
We sang together for two uncomfortable hours. 

After that, we said goodbye. I returned to Surabaya soon after but we remained Facebook friends. I didn't talk to him because I was completely freaked out by the karaoke experience. But of course he didn't let it end like that. A few days later he uploaded a picture he had drawn of us together. The fact that I look ugly in the picture makes it all even worse. :(

Based on my studies, 100% of the people you will meet at Circle K are weird (but the sample size of 2 is a little small to be conclusive I guess). Overall, I'd recommend finding somewhere better to meet people, maybe I'll check out Alfamart next...