Editor’s Note:
This article is a humorous personal letter written by an expatriate reflecting on his experiences living in Jakarta in the early 2000s. It captures first impressions and cultural observations from that period. Some details—such as traffic, driving licence processes, hotel names, and local customs—reflect the time in which it was written and should not be interpreted as current or universally applicable. The article is presented as a light-hearted personal account rather than a factual guide to living in Indonesia.
Dear everybody,
Some things you can explain after staying here for a while.
For example, why it is quite a safe bet to have a large (public) swimming pool just for yourself if you make it there in the afternoon. I’ll come back to this point later. But other things you will always wonder about.
I’m talking about finding a parking spot in the city. Traffic is mostly horrible (why am I always pick world cities without a subway system?), and you always need to plan sufficient time if you have to be somewhere at a certain time. But still, when you arrive at your destination, you will seldom have a problem finding parking; it seems to be readily available everywhere throughout the city.
It is a miracle and actually a pleasant thing I’ve never encountered before in a big (or even small) city. Well, I’ve tried to partially explain it with the sometimes very efficient parking methods. Here I’m referring to something called “parallel parking”: once the official parking spots are occupied, cars continue to fill up the lanes alongside, as signaled by the countless parking attendants. The trick is to shift the car into neutral before you leave it, so if the car behind wants to leave earlier, the car in front can simply be pushed aside by one of the attendants.
Talking about cars, there’s another thing that surprised me when I first arrived here: even though people often joked that the easiest way to obtain a driver’s licence was to pay for it, most drivers actually handle their vehicles remarkably well, even if they can be a little adventurous at times. That probably explains why you hardly see many cars with dents. On the contrary, most cars are well maintained and look fairly new, while the only vehicles that seem particularly old and rusty are some of the city buses.
Enough about miracles.
Two weeks ago, I was invited to the wedding of a friend’s aunt, and this was a true cultural experience. It was a traditional Javanese wedding, so my friend was wearing an elaborate (though uncomfortable) traditional outfit and hairstyle, while I wore Indonesian batik. My eyes could barely take in all the beautiful traditional clothing—it felt a little like being at a carnival.
The whole event took place in a rather luxurious atmosphere at the Sari Pan Pacific Hotel, and the number of guests was overwhelming—around 1,500 people. Apparently this is quite common for Indonesian weddings, where extended family, colleagues, neighbours, and friends of friends are often invited. One guest estimated that the bride’s and groom’s families personally knew only about 20% of those attending, making it quite an anonymous gathering.
Perfect, really, because the food buffet was extraordinarily large, so there was no need to worry about filling your plate several times.
Apart from the food and the beautiful clothing, what made the event so memorable was the reception hall itself. When I entered, I immediately felt as though I had stepped into a fairy tale—exactly how I imagined One Thousand and One Nights. There were golden drapes, a golden couch, countless flowers, and a traditional Javanese gamelan orchestra playing in the background. The music wasn’t exactly my taste, but it certainly added to an unforgettable cultural experience.
Last weekend, a group of us took a trip to the Thousand Islands, the chain of small islands north of Jakarta. Normally it takes one to two hours to get there by boat, depending on which island you visit. However, we decided on the unconventional (and cheapest) option of chartering an old fishing boat, so the journey took us five hours. It was one of those trips you have to see with your own eyes to believe.
Suddenly the water turned crystal clear and brilliantly blue, and the islands themselves were breathtakingly beautiful—truly deserving of the nickname “Mini Maldives.” White sand beaches stretched in every direction, while colourful coral reefs and tropical fish filled the surrounding waters. Best of all, there were very few tourists. To put it simply, it was a terrific weekend getaway. How many cities with millions of residents can boast a tropical paradise practically on their doorstep?
Anyway, on the drive back to Jakarta we passed a funeral procession.
What struck me wasn’t the procession itself, but that many of the participants were smiling. Another thing I noticed was that only men seemed to be accompanying the funeral. I was told that, in Islamic tradition, once the deceased has been ritually washed, the journey to burial should be peaceful and dignified, without loud expressions of grief. At the time, I was also told that women generally did not participate because they were considered more likely to become emotional.
As I’ve continued learning about Indonesia, I’ve discovered that customs surrounding funerals vary considerably depending on local traditions, family preferences, and religious practices. Experiences may differ from one community to another.
Learning about another culture really is an ongoing process. But every now and then it feels satisfying when you finally understand something that once puzzled you.
Like those empty swimming pools before 5 p.m. Of course, if you’ve been faithfully reading my emails, you’ll already know the answer. Many Indonesians prefer to avoid strong afternoon sunshine because lighter skin has traditionally been associated with beauty. After our trip to the Thousand Islands, my best friend here had to defend herself for coming home with a lovely tan, while my only contribution was teasingly calling her kaki hitam (“black feet”).
As you can see, life here continues to surprise me almost every week.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to extend my stay until the end of the year—a request that was approved yesterday by my future employer in Zurich.
Cheers,
© Juerg
