Jakarta here I come

Jakarta here I come

Morning has broken at around 06:00 a.m. in KL. From the windows of the hotel room some sun rays peered through the gaps between the white blinds.  My mother woke up and put her arms up in the air above her head, stretching them about.  My dad had been woken up since I didn’t know when, but at this instant he was busy filling up the two suitcases laid down on the floor by the bed side.  Today was our last day in this hotel. In fact in about 2 hours from now we would have to depart to the airport to catch the flight back home.  Jakarta.  That was the city we would be going. Jakarta was where my mother resided. 

My mother was originally from Batak. A small town depicted in the highland of North Sumatra province. She was belonged to a Bataknese, so people named her clan. A tribe that was quite notorious for their own good. They were characterized as an ethnic group that acquired strong personality and straight forward traits.  Sounded positive qualities to my opinion, but who knows…, I dared to think that there must be a catch behind any of that traditional legendary knowledge.  But I didn’t mind them. Strong personality was good.  Straight forward was also good. What was it not to like about it? For sure, I would and I should find out more about my mother’s origin soon in life after outside my mother’s womb. 

My dad.  He was an American.  He spent most of his life and up to date in the small neighborhood in Fresno area of California.  I didn’t know much about that city, but I had a feeling that my dad was not too impressed about the highlights of the city.  He had to like and live in that city for his work which luckily a work that he enjoyed very much.  Farming it was.  He was an Agronomist.  It would kind of balance out his like and dislike he had about that city he lived in.  Like it or not he had been living in and out of that city for more than 15 years.  Quite long stretches of time for ones live.

My dad was not belonged to any tribe. However, he told people who asked about it that there were a mixture of Irish and Scottish descendant in his blood. That fact was proven by the faired color of his skin and reddish shade of his hairs. I was only assuming of course.  I could be incorrect.  Since my dad was not belonged to any tribe, I could not portray him much. I could only say that being an American, he was quite a friendly and out going kind of bloke.  Very general characterization I supposed.  But he was also a very nice and kind person.  Really, he was a decent man I would declare, and I was not just saying that because he was my dad.

My mother and my dad had very interesting but two different personages. Oh by the way I forgot to mention that my mother was a lawyer by profession, but she had been taking up a job at one of the big cigarette manufacturer in Jakarta since 13 years ago.  My mother and my dad lived in two different countries but they were both managed to take turns to live together at some portion of their times between the two countries they resided.  Not ideal of course, but tolerably manageable, so my mother always said when people asked or expressed pity of that circumstances.  

I was actually quite astonished by the fortunate side of them being my parents.  Or should I say I was fortunate to have them as my parents. I knew, from the very moment I was implanted inside my mother’s womb, that I would be loved by my parents so very dearly. And vise versa, I had no doubt.  My two other companion would definitely agree with me in this case.  Our reasons for existence would be the blessing on our part to have such interestingly unique parents, not just culturally but also characteristically special. I really could not wait to get to know more about them in real life after outside my mother’s womb.

My dad finally completed the packing. He walked to the table where my mother’s hand bag placed, opened it and pulled some documents out. They were my mother’s and my dad’s plane tickets, and two passports.  Apparently I didn’t have to have a passport yet, neither did my two other companion. At least not until we were out of my mother’s womb. My mother finally was done with her grooming. She slipped on her flat shoes, and she threw a very light material cotton scarf on her shoulders.  She was ready to go. My dad did a last minute inspection, opening all the drawers and cabinets in the hotel room, as well as the bathroom.  It was now officially our last minutes in this very hotel room before we would drive to the KL International Airport.

It was a pity that I had no opportunity to see much of KL. From the time of my existence in my mother’s womb, I had only seen the confined spaces of the Novotel Hotel and the Tropicana Hospital.  Deep down in my heart to be, I would like to come back to KL again one day and I would hope that I would no longer in my fetus form then.  We arrived at KL International Airport two hours prior to departure.  It was not a very long queue at the check-in counter.  After checked in, I heard my dad requested the lady behind the check-in counter for a wheelchair to carry my mother into the waiting lounge. We still had quite a while before boarding. 

The lounge was started to file up with passengers with various over seas destinations.  My mother sat at one side of the waiting room by the wide tinted glass wall facing out. I inquiringly gazed through my mother’s eyes and through the glass wall and I was amazed to see some big birds looking metal parked outside.  I gathered that they were what they would call air planes. Out of the blue, I saw one big red and white colored plane coming down the run way. “Asia Air” my mother whispered the name of the plane, and I repeated the name again and again in my heart to be. It produced a very loud squeaking sound when it touched the ground. 5 minutes after that I saw another one moved in the runway and one minute later it took off in the direction of the sky. I was dumbfounded and my brain to be was quickly running hard thinking how on earth would those big metal birds able to fly without flapping its wings. Amazing. Amazing indeed.

            It was time to get into the plane. Boarding was announced two times when my mother and my dad started to walk through the exit door, and into the plane. My heart to be was racing a little bit.  I glanced at my two other companion, but I could not see their expressions. They both did not seem to be concerned nor would they show interest in the up coming journey. I on the other hand, was very nervous for various reasons.  The first reason was because this would be my first time getting on a metal bird called air plane. The second was because I could not anticipate what to react when we were all up in the sky.  Could we see something from up there? What would we see? And the third was the fact that we would be going to our home to be.  Jakarta.  I was really anxious about all these whole new things.

            My mother sat silently next to my dad on the first row of the economic class sitting arrangement. The airline crews seemed to treat my mother very nicely. They offered her any assistance that my mother might need. But my mother did not ask for anything other than a glass of water. Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head against my dad’s shoulder.  My mother held my dad’s hand while the other hand rested on top of her belly.  I could sense that my mother was trying to give me and my two other companion some comfort.  I saw my mother’s mouth muttering some words to my dad, but I could barely hear what she said.  Then she fell asleep.

            We landed at the Jakarta International Airport. The plane touched down the run way with a little bit turbulence that made my mother waking up. I was also woken up when the tires touched the ground.  I didn’t realize that I had also dozing off during the whole flying time. The cabin pressure was definitely had some effect on me. The stewardess repeated the announcement of the local temperature just right after we landed. It was 29 degrees Celsius. It was quite hot. I gazed at my two other companion, but they were still fast asleep. I did not bother to wake them up.  I was stretching my fetus form a little bit and trying to get my orientation focus. I would not want to miss the next sequence of this journey. 

            I saw a “Welcome to Jakarta” sign outside the airport terminal. It was a huge sign with a huge decoratively alphabet writing that it took me a while to read the whole words through my mother’s eyes.  It was very hot and humid outside the airport I noticed.  My dad pushed the wheel chair closer to the ‘pick-up passenger only’ sign while a very strong man in a blue uniform walked along his side with our luggage.  Both my dad and that man in a blue uniform were sweating on their foreheads.  Out of the blue from a hundred yard away another man was waving his hand vigorously and yelling at my dad. He was running between the rows of cars and taxis lined up by the side of the road.  It was incredible how packed this airport parking lot, I said to myself. There were people here and there and every where.  Oh and two other things word mentioned was that the clouds was darker and the sky was greyer looking.

           

            “Mister! Over here!” said the man with a thinly cheerful voice?  My dad waved back at the man and then continued pushing my mother’s wheelchair toward him. 

            “How are you bu?” asked the man again with a smile on his face.

            “I am fine, thanks pak Abi” replied my mother.  She was also smiling at him. I could see that both my mother and my dad knew this man very well. Few seconds later, I saw this pak Abi already took over the luggage from the other man in a blue uniform.

            “Where did you park pak Abi?” asked my dad

            “Not far mister, just right there” pak Abi pointed out to a silver grey colored X-Trail Jeep.

            “Ah very good, we don’t have to walk far” my dad again.

            5 minutes later we were already on the way to get out of the airport complex.  The man who was called as pak Abi by my dad sat behind the wheel of the car. He seemed very skilled on what he was doing. So he must be our driver then, I guessed. My dad sat next to him on the front seat while my mother sat in the back. Her feet were up on the seat supported with a small cushion pillow. I was still curious of why she did that, even though I had seen her doing that many times when she was sitting or laying down.  There must be a reason for that ritual.

            We had been on the road for more than half an hour. I had no idea of where we were about, but judging buy the rows of cars in front of and behind, we were definitely still on the toll road.  The car ride was amazingly slow. I would bet that it run only around 20 km/hour if not less. Pak Abi was keeping up conversation along with my dad while he was driving. I was beginning to question of how far away would be this house of ours.  It would not be near for sure.  Once in a while I heard my dad voice “Aah macet, macet terus!”  His face whirling around left to right, front and back, with his eyes glared at the rows of cars what seemed to surround us.  Traffic jammed, that what it was, I was guessing what he meant.

            So this was Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, where my mother resided, as well as my dad occasionally.  What an incredible place it must be, I thought. Although so far I had just been half an hour away from the airport, but I was sure that there would be more to see ahead.  I would like to know more about this city other than the fact that it was hot with high humidity, and packed with people and vehicles.  My mother seemed to like this place alright.  She lived here for almost all her life.  She must have found this place had good things to offer.  I absolutely would like to find out about all nooks and crannies of Jakarta. So, Jakarta here I come.  Just wait for me to come out of my mother’s womb, and then I would explore and get to know you with my very own eyes.