Five Months in and a Few Steps Closer

I spend a lot of time as a passenger in Jakarta since to drive is to gamble with one's life. Being a passenger gives me a lot of extra time to think. I think about my job and tasks at hand, but just about every day I also think about how incredible it is that I'm here. I'm in Indonesia. Halfway around the world. Doing what I love. It's five months in now, and I still feel like I need to pinch myself as I watch Jakarta pass outside my window.

Early on, I began gauging my level of integration into society by the type of vehicle I was in. During my first few days in Jakarta, all of the ELFs and I were toted around in a giant, cushy charter bus. I was literally elevated above the street level life of the city, still a disconnected visitor observing from a distance.

Then, I moved a notch down into the taxi level. Other Indonesians use taxis; I was getting closer. Other expats also use taxis...a lot. So, while I was being a little more independent - hey, we don't have taxis to flag down where I come from; it's a big step for me - I was still floating above real Indonesian life.

When I started working, Sebasa provided a driver. Now I get to cruise around in a police car. It's not marked up like a squad car, but it is painted the dull gray of police vehicles and has black and yellow plates denoting police. I don't know that this pushed me any further into the circle of true society, but now I was exploring different parts of the city. I was driving through the desa (the small villages contained between the high rises) instead of around them. At least the view that passed by my window was a bit more intimate.

Then there was the fateful Friday I finally took an ojek to visit my friends. Now that's more like it. There was nothing at all between me and my surroundings. I was weaving in and out of traffic, next to every other Jakartan who was trying to get around the gridlock. Dirt on my face, exhaust in my lungs, and a smile on my face.

The ultimate travel experience, though, was in Ubud. Lo had done some homework before he came over and had found a day-long biking trip through the country side. I'm not a biker, and even still, this experience will stick with me forever. Finally, I was in charge of my destination (well, I had to stick with our tour guide, but I could stop and weave as I pleased). I could pedal slowly through the country-side villages, wave to the children walking home from school, and say 'Selamat Pagi' (good morning) to the folks going about their day.

Nothing will change the fact that I'm tall, have white skin, blond hair, and green eyes; these things will always keep me from completely fitting into Indonesia. Even still, in five months, I've watched myself peel through the layers and get closer to living the experience rather than just observing in a comfortable, air conditioned existence. I still have miles to go; beyond the realm of travel into speaking the language and understanding the culture. One step (or pedal) at a time.