I edged closer to the West yesterday via a surprise one-day return to Jakarta to take care of a few appointments. The trip has been filled with unexpected surprises and I realize how far afield from the West central Java truly is. It was a bit shocking to see the first English newspaper in over three weeks (this is not entirely true, as on the ferry back from Lombok someone tried to sell me a Jakarta Post for 20,000 rupiah, giving me the 'local's price.' When I pointed out that the cover of the paper said its price was 5,000 rupiah he screamed at me in Javanese? Madurese? Sasak? and skulked off) and realize how little I knew about world news.
For instance, I had no idea that Pete Doherty has vowed to kick drugs, that my country is inching ever closer to going to war with Iran, that wildfires in SoCal threaten the homes of not one, but two, members of Megadeath (who played JKT on Thursday night), and that today is the 15 year anniversary of the passing of Vincent Price (why the JP gave almost 20 inches to this is beyond me).
The truth is Indonesia is neither a modern nor developed (sometimes I think -ing) country. I never realized how deeply I take The Enlightenment for granted until this past month. I am fairly certain that people who believe Indonesia is a modern place have a. only come here for a week b. made a great deal of money here c. never left Jakarta (b and c often go together).
Its a strange window through which to glimpse back to the west, and realize things like, yes, that Vanity Fair cover does in fact picture a parka clad, crampon shod, Leo Dicaprio standing atop a slushy iceberg with a forlorn-looking polar bear cub at his side.
Sometimes home even looks a little preposterous.
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