I arrived in Jakarta yesterday. The ride in reminded me, comfortingly, of banal Orlando, Florida where I used to go in the spring for pre-season lacrosse. Wide, clean, elevated highways; swampy medians flocked with white wading birds, and glass towers on the horizen.
After shaking hands all around at the bustling NDI office, I checked in at the Formule 1 hotel and slept for 14 hours. Oddly enough, I stayed at a Formule 1 in Brisbane after leaving the ship in Madang, Papua New Guinea - a parallel, meloncholy experience of reentering the mainstream. The Starbucks in the lobby makes me miss drinking espresso in hot, dusty Dili while low-slung taxis crawl by.
Before I went under for the night (err, afternoon) I pulled aside the curtain to see the view. Out there was none other than the one Jakarta landmark I know: the Wisma.
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