A few more days in Jakarta

Flower arrangement in hotel lobby

To finish Stewart’s commitment to the projects he has been working on, he needed to present his insights to the various participating organizations. So back we went to Jakarta for four days. We stayed in the same hotel, which was nice because by then, it was all familiar. What was really nice is that we got an upgrade to one of their suites which had many rooms in it. I will say the Mandarin Oreintal is the nicest, best quality hotel I’ve staid in and the service is excellent through out the whole staff. So, this was a real treat in many ways.

Hand carved chocolate sculptures at hotel bakery

Shira and I had decided we’d go to a textile museum for our entertainment. The major focus in textiles here is batiks. So we hired a car and off we went to a very interesting old part of the city where the museum compound is located. This museum has some very, very old batiks preserved under glass. 

There were a number of different buildings; not sure what their purposes were. Towards the back of this compound there was a nice sized building, totally open, with fifteen or twenty small, short tables with short stools next to them. This is where they have batik lessons. 

A person can bring in their own design, or they can trace and use an existing pattern. I picked a simple design since this was my first time but Shira drew her own design, since she’s ambitious, has done batik before, and she designs fabrics. I was impressed with her design. We were brought to a small table where there was hot wax and all the tools we needed.

There were three ladies sitting around one of the small tables and I asked if I could look at what they were doing. They said, yes. I was impressed by the patterns they had chosen to do.

Very steady hands  

I listened to the instructions and began. Yikes! This is not easy, and if you don’t hold the tool correctly and remember to rub off the excess wax, blobs come off onto the fabric basically changing the design with odd blobs. After the wax is applied by slowly and methodically following the lines drawn on the fabric, it’s time to hand it over for the next steps; dyeing and stabilizing the wax process. It’s then hung to dry.

After we finished, Shira and I went on our own personal tour of the museum. The lady who helped us with our batiks was standing next to the door at one of the small buildings and invited us in. We discovered that it was full of batik fabric. Mind you, at this point I had already had four batik fabrics given to me.

But these were spectacular—one of kind—and all made by this lady. I had to buy one and chose the first one I’d seen when we walked inside. I don’t know what I’ll do with it. I don’t really want to cut it up. But to think she made it by hand is impressive.

 

We went back to pick up the batiks we’d made and headed back to the hotel. I was surprised to see that mine turned out okay well, not really it’s pretty bad. I really enjoyed the process, and now have the utmost respect for those who can do this work. I’ll never look at batiks the same.

 

We did a lot of batik shopping at the many store that sell clothing and many other objects were batik fabric is used. Stewart bought four shirts and they are all great. I came home with five different batik fabrics. Not sure what I’ll do with it all but do have ideas.                                                                                      Mine is red Shira’s is purple.

The next adventure Shira and I wanted to go on was to see the Botanical Gardens, an hour’s train ride away. David joined us and out we went, looking for the correct train station. It was very, very hot that day, and as we were waiting for the train, I wasn’t really sure I even wanted to go. Kinda feeling lazy, but when the train stopped, we hopped on and found there were no empty seats—standing room only. Ugh! At least it was air-conditioned. Eventually a young man gave me his seat (there is a sign on the train which shows all the do’s and don’ts… like that men are supposed to give their seats to older people, women in general and pregnant ladies). So I guess I fit into one of those categories.

 

When we got off the train, the whole area was packed. People, motor bikes, buses and tut tuts everywhere; people begging, and others selling goods of different sorts. We took a tut tut to the gardens and began our walk. We saw some huge trees and large leaf plants that were impressive, and some nice landscaping. There was a small stream running through the grounds, and I was surprised (and dismayed!) to see garbage in it! In fact, I’m about to write a review on it. I don’t get it. Most of the grounds were clean and in good condition; some areas more cared-for than others. I did see large beds of Birds of Paradise, ginger, heliconia., very old fig tree.

We were about to cross a bridge when suddenly, all these police and security vehicles came up in front of us and military men hopped out with automatic rifles. What the Hell is going on? I thought. Then a fancy car appeared, some important looking people got out and photos were taken. I didn’t dare take any photos for fear of being shot!

After a few hours, we were ready to head back so we’d get a seat on the train. Outside the gates to these tranquil gardens there is the hurry-scurry of the city…. everyone rushing to get somewhere. By this time, I was drenched from sweat and ready for something to eat. There were people around selling their goods, and this little old man came up to me with some batik cards he was selling. I loved them, and for so little money, bought two packages. And now I wish I had bought more. They are so Thailand…

As we walked down the stairs to the train station I remembered I had LOTS of Indonesian change. I grabbed all of it—a major handful—and when I passed this old lady sitting on the stairway in the shade, I dropped it all in her little bucket. “Clink, cling, cling,” was what she heard. She looked up at me in shock, and I smiled, put my hands together as if praying, and then to my heart. She smiled from ear to ear. 

 

We got to the train in plenty of time, took seats in the air-conditioned car, and sat there watching as people were finding their seats. We noticed how many women were in our car, and how the men kept walking through and back into other cars. At some point a Muslim woman came up to us and told us that men are not allowed in that car. OH!!! So that is what was going on. So we had to find other seats, which by then were less available, in another car. 

It was our last night in Jakarta, and packing was one task that had to be tackled. Ugh!

After dinner, David and I went outdoors to the big circle in front of the hotel and decided to play around with our cameras, photographing the lights of our last glimpse of the crazy traffic patterns I do not care to experience again. Way too much traffic in Jakarta. 

Off to Bangkok, Thailand for a week’s vacation. We called it a vacation because Stewart was working most of the time while in Indonesia. As you look at this photo of Stewart waiting…. he can sleep just about anywhere.

 

Good-bye, Indonesia! Good-bye to all you wonderful people and friends that we have met.