1/19 - Yogyakarta, Having Encountered Deceit and Grown Bitter in East Java
Am in Yogyakarta (pronounced Jogjakarta) in Central Java, or should I say "are in Yogyakarta," I being not alone? You see my English is suffering.
In any case, we are living and retain all of our money and possessions, so I suppose I'm relieved, but the trip out here from Kuta was not fun at all. I was about to call it nightmarish but figured instead that I should reserve that term for more calamitous occasions. The skeletal version:
Guide said bus from Denpasar in Bali to the ferry in the West of Bali at Gilimanuk would cost 10,000 Rp and take 1.5 hours. We got charged 12,500 and the ride took 3.5 hours (we're talking about roughly 110 kilometers here.) The ferry was the one place we didn't get overcharged or ripped off, and though strange, was fine. Young girls talked to us and took endless rounds of photos of us with various combinations of their friends, and the whole thing felt like some sort of high school dance, complete with Christmas lights, a sound system blasting music ("Osaki, Technology by Japan, mp7 player") and hundreds of young people milling around flirting with each other. And at 3300 Rp, we paid the real price. Then we reached the other side, where the guide told us Banyuwangi train station would be 8 km away. Immediately we were approached by seven thousand men with motorbikes. One man had a taxi, and though he wouldn't lower his proposed price of 20,000 Rp to take us to the train station, we relented because we just wanted to get there at that point. We went and stood by the side of the road with him, and waited for the taxi to get there.
Now, there was a brief moment here which was actually pleasant, and which I'd like you to picture for a moment, because after that for 40 hours or so most things we much less pleasant. The sun was just setting, and the mosque across the street was projecting the call to prayer (Java being mostly Muslim, whereas Bali is more Hindu). People milled around, ferries docked and departed. Ahh, east Java, Indonesia! It was a nice few minutes. Then the taxi wasn't arriving. Aubrie's bag was getting heavy. My muscles were holding out, but getting weary. The man said "or you could take bemo, for same price..." in a way that was sort of slimy, as if saying "or you could give me 100,000 more Rupiah." It didn't quite make sense. (A bemo is a tiny van which can have ten people crammed into it but which you can also charter if you pay for the missing other passengers.) Anyway, he assured me there would be no difference between a taxi and that so we agreed, naturally, wanting to get out of there.
The driver was out of his mind. In this tiny yellow van, with the door permanently open and no seatbelts, he took the thing up to top speeds, passing anything and everything he could find to pass, compulsively, like a maniac. Rocks were hitting the sides, almost flying into the door. We drove for a very long time, and arrived at a train station, much to my relief. I had assumed the man's opffer had been code for "or we could rob and kill you, somewhere out there, for the same price..." Except for one thing...well, two things...first, he took us to Kerangasem Station. We said "Is this Banyuwangi Station?" and he assured us, yes. Okay fine, here's 20,000 Rp. He looks at me with fury in his beady little eyes. No, 40! No, 20 for 1, 40 for 2! He looks like he's about ready to knife me as I assure him we were told 20. He stands and stares intently at me for about a minute, then takes off. It wasn't very nice at all, and there we were in the dark at some random train station, which was just a track and a small waiting room with ten thousand lizards and seven million insects in it clustering around the fluorescent lights....
And at this point I have no time left to write about the rest, but I promise I will fill in the rest later. For now, let it suffice to say that the 1st class seats on the overnight train to Surabaya from there were sold out, so we had to go and find a hotel a couple of kilometers away, which though promising turned out to be populated by a) a cockroach infestation, b) rats making ominous noises and scurrying around, c) a rooster who started things up at 3 a.m. with the most unfortunate-sounding noise I've heard from a rooster. After that was the morning train, (from a different station! The bemo guy took us to one up the line further to make us think, what, that he deserved more money? The logic is astounding) on which they charged for blankets and tried to charge twice for all food, then the Surabaya mildew hotel, then several nasty encounters with taxi drivers trying to rip us off, the most recent of which, in Surabaya, slammed the trunk down on two of my fingers as I attempted to get my bag out because, though he had run a meter (we were so happy about it!) and it came to 3300, he insisted on 10,000, which I finally had to give him because he was about to get in a fistfight with me (the fucker, I hope he dies a bloody death).
In closing, I'd like to apologize for my wrathful final sentence there, and to assure you that I had no injuries to my fingers, merely bouts of anxiety the whole way to Yogya, and a now solid fear of all taxis and transport in this country.
More soon....
In any case, we are living and retain all of our money and possessions, so I suppose I'm relieved, but the trip out here from Kuta was not fun at all. I was about to call it nightmarish but figured instead that I should reserve that term for more calamitous occasions. The skeletal version:
Guide said bus from Denpasar in Bali to the ferry in the West of Bali at Gilimanuk would cost 10,000 Rp and take 1.5 hours. We got charged 12,500 and the ride took 3.5 hours (we're talking about roughly 110 kilometers here.) The ferry was the one place we didn't get overcharged or ripped off, and though strange, was fine. Young girls talked to us and took endless rounds of photos of us with various combinations of their friends, and the whole thing felt like some sort of high school dance, complete with Christmas lights, a sound system blasting music ("Osaki, Technology by Japan, mp7 player") and hundreds of young people milling around flirting with each other. And at 3300 Rp, we paid the real price. Then we reached the other side, where the guide told us Banyuwangi train station would be 8 km away. Immediately we were approached by seven thousand men with motorbikes. One man had a taxi, and though he wouldn't lower his proposed price of 20,000 Rp to take us to the train station, we relented because we just wanted to get there at that point. We went and stood by the side of the road with him, and waited for the taxi to get there.
Now, there was a brief moment here which was actually pleasant, and which I'd like you to picture for a moment, because after that for 40 hours or so most things we much less pleasant. The sun was just setting, and the mosque across the street was projecting the call to prayer (Java being mostly Muslim, whereas Bali is more Hindu). People milled around, ferries docked and departed. Ahh, east Java, Indonesia! It was a nice few minutes. Then the taxi wasn't arriving. Aubrie's bag was getting heavy. My muscles were holding out, but getting weary. The man said "or you could take bemo, for same price..." in a way that was sort of slimy, as if saying "or you could give me 100,000 more Rupiah." It didn't quite make sense. (A bemo is a tiny van which can have ten people crammed into it but which you can also charter if you pay for the missing other passengers.) Anyway, he assured me there would be no difference between a taxi and that so we agreed, naturally, wanting to get out of there.
The driver was out of his mind. In this tiny yellow van, with the door permanently open and no seatbelts, he took the thing up to top speeds, passing anything and everything he could find to pass, compulsively, like a maniac. Rocks were hitting the sides, almost flying into the door. We drove for a very long time, and arrived at a train station, much to my relief. I had assumed the man's opffer had been code for "or we could rob and kill you, somewhere out there, for the same price..." Except for one thing...well, two things...first, he took us to Kerangasem Station. We said "Is this Banyuwangi Station?" and he assured us, yes. Okay fine, here's 20,000 Rp. He looks at me with fury in his beady little eyes. No, 40! No, 20 for 1, 40 for 2! He looks like he's about ready to knife me as I assure him we were told 20. He stands and stares intently at me for about a minute, then takes off. It wasn't very nice at all, and there we were in the dark at some random train station, which was just a track and a small waiting room with ten thousand lizards and seven million insects in it clustering around the fluorescent lights....
And at this point I have no time left to write about the rest, but I promise I will fill in the rest later. For now, let it suffice to say that the 1st class seats on the overnight train to Surabaya from there were sold out, so we had to go and find a hotel a couple of kilometers away, which though promising turned out to be populated by a) a cockroach infestation, b) rats making ominous noises and scurrying around, c) a rooster who started things up at 3 a.m. with the most unfortunate-sounding noise I've heard from a rooster. After that was the morning train, (from a different station! The bemo guy took us to one up the line further to make us think, what, that he deserved more money? The logic is astounding) on which they charged for blankets and tried to charge twice for all food, then the Surabaya mildew hotel, then several nasty encounters with taxi drivers trying to rip us off, the most recent of which, in Surabaya, slammed the trunk down on two of my fingers as I attempted to get my bag out because, though he had run a meter (we were so happy about it!) and it came to 3300, he insisted on 10,000, which I finally had to give him because he was about to get in a fistfight with me (the fucker, I hope he dies a bloody death).
In closing, I'd like to apologize for my wrathful final sentence there, and to assure you that I had no injuries to my fingers, merely bouts of anxiety the whole way to Yogya, and a now solid fear of all taxis and transport in this country.
More soon....
posted by Gabriel Leigh at 7:56 PM
3 Comments:
Ah, the fury of Gabriel. Hahaha. Sounds like you're having fun. Wish I could be there with you, but got a few more months of school. Can't write much that's insightful right now because I need to hop in the shower. But just wanted to let you know that I dig your narrative style and that you're in my thoughts and heart. Take care.
JP
Loved the remark about the rooster. Get any good cockroach pix?
--John E.
I'm leaving this afternoon for Java with a couple of Japanese Yakuza (met them in my dentist's office). After checking you both for any physical or psychic injuries, I will depart, leaving the two good-natured thugs to serve as your bodyguards for the rest of the trip.
Just don't mention the war!
dbl
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