DAY SEVEN, part 2: Jakarta

My flight from Pangkalan Bun stopped at Semarang to pick up more passengers, so I darted off the plane to run inside and use the bathroom. I also ran by the KalStar desk, in the hopes of finding out the name of the worker who had screwed us over on Tuesday. (Nanang wanted to know the guy's name, so he knew who to report to the company.) They had already closed for the day, though, so I made a mad dash back to the plane. The flight to Jakarta took about half an hour.

Jakarta's airport felt almost empty as I got off the plane, which made the place look even more enormous. There are pretty tropical gardens between terminals, which distracted me from the run-down look of the interior. While waiting at baggage claim, I was amused by a local.

I was picked up by one of Mutia's father's workers. Though he was very nice, he spoke more or less zero English, which made the ride a little awkward. The two-hour ride through Jakarta was absolutely miserable. If anyone reading this ever goes to Jakarta, do not drive. In fact, stay off the roads as much as possible. There are buses, but that seems to be the acme of the city's mass transit system. We were on two-lane roads most of the way, but Jakarta's motorbike riders swarm around everywhere, weaving in and out of traffic. At one point, the road split into four lanes (two lanes each direction), and there were motorbikes six abreast in front of us. For all the craziness, though, I didn't see a single traffic accident.

We eventually reached the house I'd be staying at. Mutia's family is building a second house in a developing subdivision, and offered to let Zoe, Rachel, and me stay there while we were in town. The neighborhood and house are amazing. My camera's battery died from all the excitement in Kalimantan, though, so this is the only picture I have from the house.

We pulled in at about 8:30, and I saw Zoe and Rachel for the first time since they ran off in Semarang. There wasn't any awkwardness or anything, which was good. We caught up on what everyone had been doing: they had been mostly chilling out at the house. Mutia's younger sister, Astrini, was there, too, along with some of her friends. We all hung out and played cards some, and they pointed me toward some food. I discovered that teenage girls in Indonesia have a lot in common with those in America: the girls had ordered three large pizzas from Pizza Hut, and had stocked the pantry with chips, salsa, two cakes, fresh fruit (apparently to put on the cakes), and enough Coke and Sprite to survive for a week. I helped myself to Pizza Hut, which tasted even better than in Semarang, since this time it was lukewarm.

Astrini and her friends left after a while, and the three of us watched a little TV. The house wasn't quite finished yet--some of the windows still hadn't been installed, among other things--so one of Mutia's dad's workers stayed at the house to guard the door. It was very nice, but a little strange at the same time. I took my first non-jungle shower in days, and was so thrilled to sleep in a bed that I wasn't even bothered by the lack of air conditioning.