Okay. First of all, there were news everywhere regarding to the big BBM strike. But appointment had been made, as well as a promise to my son for today we will have a little journey to the old Batavia. I just did not know what I should say to him if today's plan had to be canceled for a reason he could never understood. Well, then I decided to take all the risk even if we had to face a 6 hours traffic jam because of the strike.
I packed as many foods as I could in my backpack. Three stacks of sandwiches, two packs of biscuits, two big packs of chocolate and egg rolls and a full bottle of water. Not to forget hand towel and sanitizing tissues. Off we went to Blok M station. Why Blok M, because I thought it would be easier for us to get a seat in Transjakarta. Out of my expectation, the station was very crowded. Malicca asked me why the station was empty but the bus was so full. Why the bus was so dodgy like everything is almost fall off plus creaking sound all over the place. Why the driver opened his window while this is an aircon bus (and so they said it is aircon, the fact it was hot). He kept asking me this and that, without a complaining manner. Instead, with eyes full of adventure.
Because of the strike, we were transformed to a station we should not be. Well, to be honest I was a bit nervous at that time. The sun shone very bright, 36,5 C according to my cellphone and the illogical queue (you know, that kind of queue Indonesians make ... awful yes). Malicca could not see anything, he was just 114 centimeters high. I carried him along, just for him to breath more air.
Suddenly a guy came to me, asking where I was going. I said I was going to the old Batavia, the Immigration Office to be exact and I did not know which line I should be. I tried not to look at his eyes because I heard someone can be easily hypnotized with their eyes, I wondered he might take my son away. But he was a good guy. Soon as the bus came, he made my way amongst the crowds. I was so hurry I forgot to say thank you.
Again, it was a crowded bus. But then a pretty young woman gave her seat for me and Malicca. There, we stopped at the main station in Kota. We rode ojek to the Immigration and scored success of the photo & the interview session.
I scrolled down my twitter. Followed some accounts that consistently gave me updates about the BBM strikes in Jakarta. There, situation was still hot on the main streets so I decided to stay longer in the old Batavia. We had long lunch at the Kafe Batavia and went to the Museum Fatahillah. It was Malicca's first time going to the museum, and apparently out of my expectation he was very happy. I knew it for sure because he kept asking me to tell the history of the big house of Jan Pieter Zoon Coen. Glad my son liked museum :)
About 3pm, I decided to go home. Being a woman they say we can't read maps, ... well that person is god damn true hahaha. I was kinda lost direction where to go back to the main station. And again, we met good person. He drove us to the main station with his motorcycle and ... there we go home. The Transjakarta route was being transferred, still because of the strike. And like I predicted, Malicca kept asking why we did not get through the previous route. It was not easy to explain what a strike was. So I just said there were people who are saying what they want to the president, saying what they think was true and best for them. Luckily, we did not meet any of the mobs. There was no hassle on our way back home.
We got home at pm5, and we got the news that the route we just passed was getting hotter where policemen started to throw tear gas to the mobs. Oh, we were very lucky.
I love the look on Malicca's eyes as we got home. He told everyone about our adventure today.
It is nice to be out of work. Very nice indeed.
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