I was nervous as I don’t speak Indonesian and Esih’s personality doesn’t make her a good guide. I don’t mean to disparage her; It appears many Indonesians are like this. For example, there was one time she refused to ask a question to a local about where the Taiwanese embassy was, and insisted that I did it, even though the man didn’t speak English. She was frustrated because we were hot, in a city we don’t know, and she gave up. That is the sort of dilemma I run into at times, and it is woefully aggravating. Sort of like banging your head on a wall or burning yourself. Nothing good can come of situations like that. The stress level associated with being in a foreign country, not speaking the language, and being “the man”, or I should say the one responsible for everything where most people are incapable, is very high. Not being able to do something a westerner might consider normal doesn’t appear to be an issue with my wife only. I believe it is inherent in the culture. There is something lacking when compared to the knowledge and motivational base of the average American. Most Indonesians have no idea how to get a visa, buy international airplane tickets, or even find a phone number to a government institution. It can be terribly frustrating if you need to do things like this. I’d also like to stress that it doesn’t make them bad people.

So, we were picked up by Esih’s father, Wardiman (referred to as Baba Wawang), her niece Yi Yin, Her brother in law Darwin who drove, and her cousin, a young boy named Anga. They rented an SUV and drove it to Jakarta, came to Jalan Jaksa where we were, waited around for us to get the airplane tickets and check out of out hotel, and then returned to Indramayu. It was about a 5 hour trip, and we were packed in like sardines with all the people and our luggage. Indonesian people have no concerns about overloading a vehicle. You will see many photos in the future on this site emphasizing this point, some to a ridiculous level.

Our journey to Esih’s family was underway, and we we tired and excited to settle in somewhere and relax after weeks of moving and planning. Changes were abound and I was ready to absorb as much about Indramyu life as I could. This story will paint a picture of a culture and a place that will shock and mystify you, as well as pulling the dramatic thread of my mother-in-law’s diabetes.

We went from the airport to Jalan Jaksa, a road that caters a bit to backpackers traveling in Jakarta. We usually stay there for a night on both ends of any trips we make to Jakarta to make sure we are close to the airport. The hotel Margot, where we usually stay, is about 15 dollars US a night, and I have to say it is NOT a very nice place. We’ve tried looking elsewhere and they were worse so there you have it. We could stay in a 4 or 5 star hotel but I am used to the area from my backpacking days so I don’t even think twice about going there anymore. Plus, I know the taxi driver will understand me if I say Jalan Jaksa. The video here has a few photos and then a few short video clips of the ride to Jalan Jaksa.