Anticipation is everything

Apologies for the large gap between posts; I was working all day yesterday on my Puteri Indonesia article, which I am waiting to go over with my editor today. I actually have copious pictures to post, but neglected to bring my camera to work today. Guess that will have to wait until tomorrow.

The weekend was quite action packed; it was the first time I felt that journalistic tingle of anxiety and drive to talk with sources and really attack my story while at the Jakarta Post. On Saturday, I had an interview with the reigning Puteri Indonesia, Agni Pratistha. At 19, she's already competed in Miss Universe, done a good amount of social work with children and is about to re-enter school to finish her major in graphic design. Her modesty and the candid way in which she discussed her pageant experiences (she doesn't regard her experience at Miss Universe as being terribly positive) was really refreshing. If she was living in Seattle, I'd want to be her friend.

After my interview, Iwan took me to Taman Mini Indonesia, which is like a theme park displaying all the different provinces of Indonesia and their respective cultures. It wasn't actually all that mini, either. Iwan and I had to travel between provincial displays by motorbike. It all sounds a bit kitschy, but I had a good time looking at the different architecture for each region and getting to know a bit more about the history of Indonesia. I even bought a necklace brought over from Papua.

Sunday was packed with more interviews, this time with the 1992 Puteri Indonesia winner Indira Soediro and the 2004 winner Nadine Chandrawinata. The former, at 34, already has 6 kids and appears to live quite the fulfilling life of giving piano lessons and working with several non-profit and social organizations. Nadine, although pleasant, seemed to be the more simple-hearted of the three that I spoke with. She's sweet, but didn't have the presence I imagined of a pageant winner that Agni and Indira had. I suspected a language barrier accounted for some of her shorter, less "deep" answers. In any case, it was nice to feel like a real journalist again, going out into the field and talking to sources in their element.

This coming weekend promises to be the most exciting yet. I'm going with the Jakarta Post's German intern, Sascha, and some other people from the German Embassy to Pelabuan Ratu, a beach front area on the southern coast of Central Java. This will be my first trip outside of Jakarta, and I'm completely stoked to go =) I might even learn how to surf. This is sure to be a pleasant precursor to my planned trip to Bali next month.

Since moving desks to the features area, my social options have opened up considerably. Most of this is thanks to Sascha, who also invited me to play golf this evening and to attend an art exhibit next week. He's been working at the newspaper since April and is quite more adapted to the city than I am. Hooray for new acquaintances! I do miss the Web side a bit, Iwan and Augustina are still reliable friends to call on for lunch or the occasional after-work excursion to a movie or shopping. It's good to move around.

I'll be sure to bring my camera tomorrow. Until then...

More pageantry...and a tadpole-shaped skin ailment

I moved from the Web side to the features desk yesterday; apparently I've already been pigeonholed: I'm yet again covering a pageant, this time it's a feature article as opposed to event coverage (although I suspect that happening when this new pageant rolls around in August). I'm writing a feature about Puteri Indonesia (literal translation: "Daughter Indonesia"), the other big Indonesian pageant that is often compared to Miss Indonesia (which was the subject of my first story on the Jakarta Post Web site). The winner of Puteri Indonesia goes on to Miss Universe. Puteri Indonesia is considered more popular than Miss Indonesia and has been around longer as well (for about 15 years).

My feature aims to gauge the feelings of the women who have won Puteri Indonesia and whether they feel there is great value in the program after they have gone through and won the pageant. Thankfully, all of the past Puteri Indonesias speak good if not pretty good English. I did speak to the 2005 winner today, Nadine Chandrawinata, who's knowledge of English was not ideal. Puteri Indonesia is actually supposed to speak very good English in order to represent at Miss Universe in formidable fashion.

I consider it fate, I suppose, that the features editor (named Kanis) assigned me this story. I'm not sure whether he knows about the Miss Indonesia story I already wrote, but in any case it's an entertaining aspect of Indonesian culture. Yesterday I went to a press conference for Puteri Indonesia at the Nikko Hotel. Pictures follow:


Me with 2004 Puteri Indonesia winner Artika Sari Devi. Of all the Puteri Indonesia winners sent to Miss Universe, she has gone the farthest, making it into the top 15 the year she competed. I look kind of sweaty next to her, and am wearing a lot less make up.








The 38 finalists, all from different provinces throughout Indonesia. The pageant missed two provinces this year: Aceh and Central Kalamandan. The program tries to get each province recognized in the pageant.











A welcome sign reminiscent of football field inlaid with flowers. It says "Welcome Finalists of Puteri Indonesia 2007"









Less attractive by far has been a weird, itchy bump in the shape of a tadpole. If anyone knows what kind of insect bite or allergy causes this, please let me know. It's actually healed now, but a picture I took on Thursday captured it's shapely quality:
















Suffice to say, I've been wearing a lot of pants these days despite the hot weather.

The Photo Edition, Part II --or-- "Your logic killed my donut"

So after a pretty mellow weekend of Harry Potter watching and hunting around for the newest book in English, I've decided to give the photo thing another try. I managed to get my office's crappy internet to upload at least a few of my pictures. There are more to come, but here goes:



Me pretending to be 6-years-old, minus the headscarf. Here I'm visiting a madrasah (a muslim school) in a part of Jakarta called Pasarminggu (literally meaning "Sunday market").These kids were so adorable, I just wish their school was in better condition. The roofs are riddled with holes to the point where students need to be sent home whenever it rains. It's heartbreaking, but the kids seem so determined to learn. One group of kids start class at 6 a.m. and end at noon; another group starts at 9 a.m.



Some anatomical mannequin action in one of the classrooms of the madrasah. Two gents but no lady? My visit was courtesy of Uplift International, who is donating food and supplies to this madrasah.








One of my favorite Indonesian foods so far: soto betawi. It's a broth-based dish mixed with coconut milk, spices and lime juice. There are some tomatoes, potatoes and beef tossed in as well. Very tasty








A scene from the last day of the Jakarta Fair, a month-long celebration of the city. It was like Bumbershoot, but with less emphasis on music and more on buying lots of shit and slightly discounted prices. I had Dunkin' Donuts for dinner that night.








I'm not sure why this posted sideways, but this was a toilet at a Chinese-themed restaurant inside a nice hotel; apparently the interior decorator thought inlaying the seat with razor blades and having people sit down to pee on it would be a really cool idea.







This was some kind of dance contest at the Taman Anggrek Mall with the theme "Road to Seattle." Why wouldn't I take a picture?? These guys were pretty awesome, the tallest guy second from the left even break danced. Apologies for the dark quality, I was too far away to use flash.

The photo edition (and my latest story)

A belated story update: I wrote a story about the end of the Jakarta Fair, which you can view here. It's weird interviewing people that I can't communicate directly with, but it was still a fun experience going to the fair and talking to the vendors, who were pretty candid about their gains and losses. It was like pulling off fingernails to get fairgoers to talk to Nofia and I, worse so than it normally is getting strangers to talk to me while doing a story.

So I finally got my camera cable, which means I can upload a bunch of photos and I've been saving up. Here goes:




A slightly blurry picture of me in my awesome new motorcycle helmet taken by my uncle's driver, Safei, by the entrance of the Jakarta Post. It gets really sweaty under that plastic encasement.






Well, after an hour or so of persevering through a bad internet connection, I haven't succeeded in uploading anymore photos (damn you blogger.com! damn my office's slow internet!). I'll try again in a couple of days when I get back to the office...

A Seattle connection in Jakarta

Last week, I met with a UW law professor who was spending a month in Jakarta working with a non-profit organization called Uplift. One small connection has turned into something much bigger-- and a potential story idea. The professor, Beth Riven, is vice president of the organization; her husband, Mark Schlansky, is the president and founder. They also happen to live about 5 minutes away from my new house in Lake City. Mark used to work at Boeing too. Strange how you can find such a strong a connection to home in a country you've never been to.

Anyway, I spent some time in their office on Tuesday and was really impressed by the work they've been doing in Indonesia. For close to a decade, the group has been advocating for health and human rights in a few South Asian countries, most recently in Indonesia. It's actually written into the Indonesian constitution that residents are entitled to medical care, but the point is rarely enforced. Uplift's strategy has been to educate doctors on the concept of "right to health" and stresses the importance of disaster training, especially after the 2004 tsunami. They are also targeting a younger generation of doctors, hoping the message will shape a new crop of informed health care professionals and influence the way medicine is practiced here.

Recently Uplift has been working with the mothers of students who attend madrasas, or Muslim schools, to teach them how to make products (mostly bags and storage containers) out of recycled materials, namely the packaging from cleaning products; it's a very Seattle-type project, in my opinion. It's up there with the handbags I've seen made from recycled car leather. All this is part of their project to create "child-friendly communities," where the children, families and neighbors all benefit from better standards of living that are self-realized. Anyway, Uplift is supposed to sell these products on their Web site (I haven't been able to find the link, I'll update when I've got it) and give the profits back to the families. Tomorrow at 6:30 a.m., I'm going with Mark and the Jakarta director of Uplift, named Geni Achnas, to visit a madrasa. I'm very stoked to see a different side of Jakarta.

Today I got to go w/ Augustina, one of our Web reporters, to sample a new Italian restaurant. It was the best Western food I've had in Jakarta, and it most importantly it was free. It was also, at 2:00 p.m., my third meal of the day (a meal of six different courses), testifying to the overeating I've been doing here. Good thing I'm gym-bound today!

A new crop of red, itchy bumps have begun to plague me again, and I'm not entirely sure they are mosquito bites. Why does my skin hate Jakarta?

Something in the way it moves

Since Thursday, my main mode of transportation has been on the back of a motorcycle. It's fucking rad. My first ride on Thursday was probably the most exhilarating moment I've had in a long time, I almost cried inside my helmet (which is also pretty rad looking). Granted, I'm just the passenger (bike being driven by my uncle's driver), I've officially fallen in love with transportation via motorbike. Perhaps I'll start saving money for a Vespa back home. In any case, my sweet new helmet is probably my favorite Indonesian souvenir so far, even if I don't get to use it when I go home.

Riding on the back of the motorcycle, it was the first time I really felt like I was a part of the city and not just observing it like an outsider. Most people my age and working the same type of job that I do can't afford cars; they usually ride motorbikes or get by taking public transportation and taxis. By riding a motorcycle, I'm kind of sampling the life I would have if I was really a Jakarta resident. Since my uncle is leaving soon for 3 weeks, I've had to figure out an appropriate mode of transportation for while he's gone. Taking his car would require me to pay for gas, which is about $50 US every 4-5 days. I brought a sizable amount of money with me, but that's a lot of cash when you calculate it over 3 weeks. By taking a motorcycle, I'm spending a bout $15 US a week, a much more economical amount by my standards.

It's weird to feel like a foreigner but not be treated like one by Indonesians; because I don't look distinctly foreign (read: white), people usually approach me by speaking Indonesian, to which I usually reply with a confused, slightly worried look. In certain places, like work or malls, I can get by with English. Even after making some flashcards, I haven't been catching the language as quickly as I'd like to. Oh well, about 7 more weeks to go anyway, and I don't expect to be fluent by then. I had almost the opposite experience while in China two years ago; most people could tell that I wasn't Chinese Chinese by the way I dressed and my accented Mandarin. There, I felt extremely foreign despite looking Chinese.

Last night was an adventure, both good and bad. I went to the final day of the Jakarta Fair, a month-long celebration of the city where people can buy stuff,watch performances and eat good food. A good deal of it is actually held indoors, but I was there to do a wrap-up report of the event. Accompanying me was Nofia, a Jakarta Post reporter who is actually one month younger than me. She helped translate interviews and we had a lovely time together. The bad part? Getting totally jacked by a taxi driver on the way back to the office. Asshole got miserably lost and charged me more than twice what it should have cost for the trip.

It's strange seeing someone my age (22) already employed at a well-regarded newspaper. In fact, the Jakarta Post has spent the last several days interviewing people for 10 new reporting positions. My journalism friends will surely marvel at this: 10 open reporter positions. When the hell has the Seattle Times or the P-I even had one open position for reporters?? The hiring process that the JP employs is interesting too. Nofia, who previously worked in human resources at the Phillip Morris-owned cigarette company Samporo, was hired after going through a writing test, an interview with the editor in chief, and a psychological test (quite common for most jobs in Jakarta, I'm told). Afterward, the hirelings underwent a year of training: 3 months of instruction and 9 months of field work at a specific desk in the newsroom.

It's an interesting if not perplexing difference to American newsrooms, where internships, clips, references and (most importantly) connections will likely land you your first job, and usually not at a nationally renowned publication (unless you're a total prodigy). Most of my co-workers here didn't study journalism in college, let alone a writing-related field. Nofia majored in international relations, which is actually quite applicable. Iwan the Webmaster and another reporter I met (name escapes me) both majored in engineering, probably one of the least applicable majors to journalism.

Perhaps my future job does lie in a foreign country. Seeing as the JP is still a growing newspaper by many standards, it seems natural that they would be expanding their staff right now.

My plans for this week? Making time to work out (I joined a gym last week to keep myself fit and occupied), fleshing out a story idea about a non-profit organization championing human rights and medical rights, and seeing the new Harry Potter movie.

Itching the night away....

Despite my nightly ritual of applying a pretty liberal amount of bug repellent all over my body, the Indonesian mosquitoes continue to haunt me in my sleep. In addition to the allergy-related bumps on my right leg (and now the back of my left thigh), I have two bites on each hand, one on my back, three on my left ankle, and one on my right cheek. Today I wore leggings with my skirt, to not only hide the battle scars on my leg but to keep the bugs out. I'm convinced the mosquitoes here are of a mutant strain capable of biting people through their clothing. There is no way my repellent isn't working! Next step: leave no cubic inch of skin uncovered with insect repellent, even under my clothes.

Also, Iwan (the Jakarta Post's Webmaster) told me this morning that my article about Miss Indonesia was the most read story on the Web site. What? Really?

Having been here for a week, I've come to appreciate and detest several aspects of Jakarta:

- Food is cheap and pretty tasty. For lunch today, I had a local dish called soto, which consisted of a coconut milk-based soup flavored with spices and lime juice. Served with rice and a free iced tea, lunch cost me about $15,000 RP, or less than $2 US. In general, a square meal at a modest food vendor (whether it be on the street or in a mall) will cost between $1 and $5 US. That's pretty amazing.

- The traffic here is epically terrible. The white dotted lines separating each lane are taken more as a suggestion than an actual guide by drivers. A car ride from my office to home, which should normally take about 15 minutes, once took an hour and a half. Cars and motorcycles weave in and out of lanes, sometimes only inches from one another. Pedestrians also have a hell of a time crossing roads with no crosswalks. It almost makes me long for the simplicity of Seattle traffic.

- There are a lot of malls in Jakarta, varying in size and quality. This is good and bad, I guess; I've noticed a lack of green public space in Jakarta, like parks or other areas not occupied by buildings. At the same time, malls and I have become good friends. Being by myself a lot of the time, malls are a pretty safe bet for a hangout where I know I won't be accosted by strangers and where at least a small percentage of the population can speak English. As much as I've wanted to be more adventurous during my stay in Jakarta, realistically it's not such a great idea since I don't speak the language.

- Watching American shows on Indonesian television is a great learning tool for grasping the language. The first season of Project Runway was playing on one channel, followed by Ghost Whisperer (yes, a strange choice in shows, duly noted). Since it is a large Muslim country, a lot of the "sexier" parts of American shows are cut out. Example: Jennifer Love Hewitt's character on Ghost Whisperer is about kiss her hubby; we see their lips about to meet and a split second later their faces are parting. A slight moment of editing cut out the actual lips-touching-with-maybe-some-tongue action from being realized on screen. I went to see Die Hard last night and the film was prefaced with a notice of censorship before proceeding. Not sure what was cut out of the film exactly, which was still pretty entertaining to my surprise (not because of the censorship but because it's the first Die Hard movie in eight years).

- A lot of simple Indonesian words are plays on English and European words. "Bottle," for example, is "botol" in Indonesian; "bank" is also "bank" but pronounced more like "bang"; "beer" is "bir"; "taxi" is "taksi." My theory is that most words that are more English sounding or are close to English are words (or things) introduced into the Indonesian lexicon after the language was settled and finalized; this has happened in other Asian languages. Cheese in Mandarin, for example, sounds like "chee-suh" when spoken, which is more or less a phonetic pronunciation of "cheese."

- The begging culture is pretty shameless here, as it also is in parts of China that I've been to. Probably spurred by the fact that my uncle also drives a nice car, when stopped at an intersection people will come by with trinkets (Spiderman blow-up dolls, world atlases, small toys, drinks, newspapers) and attempt to sell them to you, or people with feather dusters will dust your car like a wood end table in the hopes of getting a tip. Some people employ their children in the process, sometimes just walking from car to car jingling a plastic bottle full of change. It's heartbreaking but also familiar; some parts of Beijing are very similar in begging culture and actually more manipulative than what I've seen in Jakarta.

- The gap between rich and poor is cavernous in Jakarta, but the space they share is very, very close. Frequently I'll see a block of shanty houses with tin roofs barely holding themselves up, and literally right next to these houses is a brand new building, usually an apartment complex, advertising for tenants. The fancy malls I've frequented have no trouble employing people, but the pay is abysmal. My uncle estimates they get a paid about $100-200 US a month--for working probably every day. My co-workers at the Jakarta Post get along quite well, I think. They say the big Indonesian paper, Kompas, pays the best though. Iwan recently told me he was thinking of buying a car, which would set him back $5,000-$10,000 for an inexpensive brand. This indicates to me that he isn't hurting for money necessarily.

- There are two chain establishments I didn't expect to find in Jakarta: Dunkin' Donuts and A&W. The former is actually kind of logical; Indonesians like sweets and fried food, as I've come to understand from a lot of the local cuisine I've tried. But the A&W fascination puzzles me. Other highly popular chains: Pizza Hut, KFC, McDonald's, Sizzlers (!), and Popeye's. Pollo Campero is a novelty here: a Guatemalan chain looking for success in Jakarta. I promised Manuel I would eat there at least once while I'm here. I have to find it first...

- Carre 4 is the most amazing store in Jakarta. Nearly anything you need to buy you can find here. I also visited a wholesale Costco-like store called Marko (Dutch-owned), which has seen a drop in business since Carre 4 (French-owned) opened. At Carre 4 you can buy smaller portions of things, and apparently Marko is not kid-friendly at all. In fact, you can't bring your children inside the store. Carre 4, on the other hand, has a kiddie corner for kids to muck around in. Marko did astound me with its uncanny resemblance to Costco, though.

That's the extent of my musings so far, I'm sure I'll think of some more enthralling observations later.

Cat Allergy vs. Cat Oven

My right leg is officially diseased.

On Saturday I noticed a few exceptionally large bumps on my leg, which I attributed to being some really nasty mosquito bites. The next day, after one particularly large bump smack in the middle of my lower shin began to increase in size and refused to respond to the antihistamine gel I applied to it, my uncle suggested I see a doctor. He was convinced I had some kind of allergic reaction or a virus; he turned out to be right. This morning I visited a doctor who confirmed that I'm not suffering from insect bites; my leg is having some sort of allergic reaction most likely triggered by stray cats or dogs (cats are getting the brunt of the finger pointing from both my doctor and my uncle). I do have a minor allergy to animal hair, but I had no idea my allergy could escalate to this level, even in a foreign country.

Besides the fact I've had no contact with any animals (alive, that is) since I arrived in Jakarta, I don't understand why only one of my legs is reacting so violently to this allergy. Anyway, I'm currently taking two oral medications and using a topical cream to treat my ailment. Because I've previously had bad reactions to foreign medication (once while in Taiwan my entire body broke out in red splotches from taking some foreign cough medicine), I researched all my prescribed medications on WebMD.com; everything check out, thankfully. I guess all the cute skirts I brought along to keep me cool during my trip are now out of the question. It's pants, pants and more pants for this girl.

I've decided to create some sort of photo essay to chronicle the state of my right leg. As soon as I get my camera cord (which is being air-mailed as we speak), the fury of my right leg will soon become public.

That addresses "cat allergy." "Cat oven" is an entirely different story. So I've been seeing these "cat oven" signs around the city and have been slightly grossed out by them. Not that people eating cats is entirely new...But now I've found out that it's not at all some sort of contraption in which to cook cats. In the Indonesian alphabet, "c" is pronounced like "ts," as in "tsi tsi fly". So it's not so much "cat" in the Western sense but "tsat," meaning "paint" in Indonesian. "Oven" is actually meant in the literal English definition. "Cat oven" refers to a service performed by auto body companies where "cat" is applied and then one's car is put in an "oven" to set the paint and give it a glossy finish.

I haven't been able to snap a photo of this phenomena yet, but stay tuned for cat ovens galore.

I'll try to keep things short by ending here. Tomorrow: my observations about Jakarta on the one-week anniversary of my arrival.

One is the loneliest number...but not for long

Last night was a perfect example of why it sucks to live (almost) alone with people you can't communicate clearly with. I came home from the Miss Indonesia pageant completely exhausted; I actually fell asleep for several minutes toward the end of the show, which wasn't as exciting as I had anticipated it to be. I was washing up before bed when suddenly the sink in my bathroom decided to detach itself from the wall. In front of me was this wide ceramic basin, supported below by nothing more than a metal pipe. The whole fixture wobbled around in the air like an obese, one-legged man. I held onto it for a while, thinking I could possibly slide the basin back onto the metal prongs in the wall that were initially supporting it. I wasn't too keen on letting go of the sink, fearing it would flap around for a bit and then go crashing onto the bathroom floor.

After a few minutes, I realized that I could either continue holding onto this heavy, pink basin for the rest of the night, or I could catch the maids before they went to bed to help me out. I opted for the latter since I'm prone to break things more than fix them and ran for the kitchen. As I was going, the first thing that popped into my head was, "Shit, how am I going to communicate this to the maids? We barely understand each other as it is." I figured "help" was a pretty universal word, so as soon as I spotted Marci, one of the maids, I whispered "Help!" and vigorously motioned for her to follow me. She and the other maid followed suit to the bathroom to find the sink still wobbling weakly on its metal leg. They managed to fit the sink back into the wall but the pipe dislocated in the process, causing water to leak out of the joints whenever I turned on the water.

Panic attack aside, it was an interesting evening. This morning my uncle assured me that our driver, Safei, would fix the sink and that the shower head in my bathroom would also be replaced. I wish all landlords would be as accommodating. Regardless, I'm glad he pays Safei extra to be not only the driver but the miscellaneous handyman of the house; the man has two kids and a wife to support.

As I briefly mentioned, the pageant was kind of a snooze. It wasn't just that I didn't understand a lot of the dialogue and conversation on stage; it was simply a poorly organized production. All the contestants did was walk around the stage and answer questions; there were 3 rounds of Q&A and nothing else, not even a talent or swimsuit portion. Instead, the producers hired well-known singers (some whom were runners up on Indonesian Idol) to perform between segments. I enjoyed hearing some Indonesian pop music, but after about the 10th song (there were six different singing acts, some of which performed more than once), I was ready for some serious pillow action.

My article, however, was posted to the Web site earlier this afternoon. My co-worker Augustina and I actually left early and missed watching the winner get crowned. Due to some lingering jet lag, I couldn't stay there any longer without passing out. As a result I had to wait for Augustina to get to the office this afternoon in order to finalize much of my article, which relied on her translation of the Q&A and of the biographies of each contestant in the program booklet.

The language barrier still irks me, but I'm trying not to let it become such an obstacle. This weekend I plan on getting an English-Indonesian dictionary and probably an Indonesian-English one as well; Jakarta Post employees get a discount at one of the local bookstores, Granmedia, so Augustina offered to lend me her card on Sunday for the 20% discount. We're going to the Jakarta Fair beforehand to check out some of the local festivities; likely I'll be writing a piece from the foreigner's perspective, which Iwan suggested I do. We'll see how well this foreigner survives the weekend.

Hari satu= Day one

I made it!

Aside from the immensely long flight from Seattle to Taipei and then to Jakarta (aided by in-flight entertainment from the fine films In the Land of Women and Disturbia), I managed to endure the trip in one piece, albeit a sweaty piece who desperately wanted to shower and brush her teeth. I spent the rest of yesterday (Tuesday) hanging out with my Uncle Patrick, with whom I'll be staying with while in Jakarta. He leaves in a couple of weeks to see his wife and kids in Singapore, after which I'll be all by my lonesome self in his house (which isn't too shabby) with two maids and a driver. Pictures to come once I can get a hold of the USB cord for my camera (unfortunately, I left it in Seattle).

I've never, ever had "servants" and am extremely uncomfortable with the idea of having two people wait on me and one person whose sole purpose is to drive me around. It's a very, very strange living arrangement. But my housing situation as arranged by the Jakarta Post was way out of my spending league ($800 US a month!), so I decided to rely on family connections. It's ironic that the more opulent living arrangement ended up costing me nothing as opposed to an apartment that would have cost me $1600 to live in for two months--minus maids and driver, I'm certain.

My first meal in Indonesia was Chinese food at a fancy restaurant inside a huge Indonesian mall called Taman Anggrek, one of the newest and fanciest malls in the city; this is a perfect characterization of my uncle, who is Chinese-Indonesian. We had straight up Cantonese food: some shu mai and ha gao (dim sum staples), fried noodles with seafood, bitter melon, pumpkin soup, tsa siu bao, tsa siu chong fun, lotus seed buns, taro buns, and some chrysanthemum tea to wash it all down; afterward, I was disgustingly full. I also got to visit a Target/Fred Meyer-like shopping center called Carre 4, which is a huge, huge, huge store selling produce, prepared food, clothing, electronics, furniture and everyday necessities. Tonight I'm going to the Carre 4 wholesale store (read: Indonesian Costco) with my uncle to stock up on supplies before he leaves for Singapore.

I had my first day at work today as well. Initially I'll be working with the Jakarta Post's webmaster, named Iwan, uploading stories and helping him with an overhaul redesign of the newspaper's Web site. Any suggestions about the Web site (http://www.thejakartapost.com) are extremely welcome; in fact, you'll be making me look good with all your brilliant ideas! The layout is decidedly dated. I don't think the Web site has been changed much since it launched in 1998. Later, I'm supposed to moved around to the features section and will also write for the Sunday edition. The Jakarta Post also publishes a pretty cool weekly supplement called Weekender; it's like mini magazine clearly geared toward more upper class Indonesians and rich expatriates. That's not necessarily an insult but more of an observation on the content (fashion & lifestyle pieces, articles on celebrities, editorials criticizing the state of Jakarta, photo essays about the ethnic minorities of Indonesia, etc.). I hope to contribute something to this section, eventually.

My first real story, however, will be covering the Miss Indonesia pageant. Having just attended and participated in the Miss Chinese Seattle 2007 Pageant festivities (I was giving away my title of Miss Talent), as soon as I saw the commercial for Miss Indonesia I hunted down someone who could get me there. I'm attending with a co-worker, a Web reporter named Augustina, who will be my escort/translator for the night. In the same way that we have both a Miss USA and a Miss America pageant in the United States, there are two Miss Indonesia pageants; the winner of one goes on to Miss World while the other moves on to Miss Universe. The one I will be attending is the slightly less popular contest (according to my co-workers) and the winner will eventually participate in the Miss World Pageant. I'm so excited to go!