Well, what have our three days in Jakarta been like? Contrasts. Of course. Between the disorienting opulence and manicured landscaping of the Lippo Village township, which closely matched the carefully controlled public areas in central Jakarta around the national monument and towering places of worship – oh, and the looming skyscrapers peaking through the smog. Clean, calming, comfortable, controlled. Then, in contrast, a walk along the filthy drainage canals, a shortcut through the dilapidated compact cement storefronts near bustling open-air markets, depleted tuktuk drivers and hustlers sprawled out in exhaustion in roadside crannies.
Also… fascinatingly to me as an outsider… the timing spread between these places being totally empty and then packed with people. For example, Emely and I did a fun audio walking tour on Saturday through the National Monument square. It was practically empty, huge open expanses of manicured lawn and shaded sidewalks through nearby groves. An empty sports area. Then the very next day, Sunday, the main driving road approaching the central plaza had been blocked off and it was packed with people streaming into the national monument park area. Thousands of people. Our first day exploring was a solitary, quiet day. Emely stayed at the guesthouse the second day, and I walked in with the throng of people to attend mass at the National Catholic Cathedral, and then take a tour of the huge Istiqlal mosque. Both achieving the effect (along with the massive national monument tower protruding like a candle, or some other shaft-like object), of making one feel puny and insignificant. But in relation to what, exactly? The towering, intricate architecture? The power of the state, the government, the church, the quran? The collective masses of people and families filling these spaces? Is our awe and individual sense of insignificance in contrast to these sources of power? Or to God? I’m glad we have a more down-to-earth, relatable sense of God’s presence available to us in contrast to the temples and towers, and in all fairness, the impression I get of God after reading the Old Testament. At least, post-Solomon’s temple.
Seeing these things makes you wonder. And then, also, seeing the guy vacuuming the massive rug in the mosque where thousands of people pray five times a day (with capacity for over 100,000 people, if I understand correctly, just in the main prayer room and wings on the ground floor, plus the open terrace on the second floor).
Emely rejoined me around noon, and we went to explore Kota Tua “Old Town,” a Dutch colonial-style plaza area about thirty minutes away. We had lunch in the ritzy Café Batavia, a big-time colonial-feel dining experience with beautiful interior craftsmanship. A big event was winding up, part of the “499th Anniversary” of Jakarta City. The plaza filled with families taking pictures, street “statue” performers, and kids renting little cruiser bikes and cute floppy European looking hats to cruise around the square on. We dodged the growing crowd to complete an “Adventure Lab” geocache and parts of a self-guided GPS audio tour.