April 6, 2024

The very short stay in Jakarta following my arrival from overseas has come to an end, although to give myself credit, I feel reasonably well, considering how I normally fail to cope with incredibly long airplane trips. There isn’t much to do in terms of preparing for my ongoing trip, other than eat the rest of the pineapple and custard apple I bought across the street and fry some eggs using the paper-thin frying pan. Cleaning up, preliminary packing, then a quick walk to the now familiar Fresh Market across from Pantai Indah Kapuk. The traffic lights on PIK don’t work today, so it means walking into the flowing traffic, which at least seems to be somewhat more benign at this time of day.

The curry at the Padang outlet at the top of the stairs is simpler today, a red sauce with spare shredded vegetables and some boiled eggs, but no matter, time is of essence. Next door, the cute coffee roastery offers a fruity espresso at its long wooden table and a short conversation with three generations of Chinese from Jambi, the older man looking at me skeptically as I spew generalities about visiting the country with his daughter, her young son staring at me inquisitively.

Returning to the room, I have received another email from the airline, indicating the flight has been changed back from Super Air Jet to Lion Air, and now is to leave at 4:30 pm, as opposed to 1 pm. Lion is just incredible; they have been rescheduling the flight every few days since I booked it. I was going to leave the room at 10 am, but I may as well stay until the latest checkout time, which is 11 am, given that I will be stuck at the airport with nothing to do, and I don’t expect the domestic terminal at Soekarno Hatta to be particularly accommodating.

I take the Grab car to Terminal 1, where Super Air Jet is based, but they confirm that the flight has switched to Lion Air, which means trekking the distance to the SkyTrain station and traveling to Terminal 2, where Lion Air is situated. The SkyTrain bulwark seems out of synch with the more rustic terminal area, but convenient it certainly is, although having walking in the heat with my packs is definitely not fun.

Terminal 2E is packed with people, long lines of locals waiting to drop their bags off with Lion Air. There are two customer service counter with long lines, but I am lucky that for some inexplicable reason, the bulk of people ahead to me in the line decide to leave. Of course, people cut in line, but given the reputation of this airline that I am later made aware of, I extend some consideration to these folks.

The flight has changed, and is now on Lion, apparently leaving from gate E5, although the service rep is evasive as to whether it is actually leaving at 4:30. How inspiring! I navigate through the main passage of Terminal 2, grateful for the quantity of shops, eateries and cafes that are not particularly expensive, even for this country. Staples are staples! The E area only contains seven gates, and unlike any other airport, is navigable within the course of a few minutes. What is unlike other airports are the hordes of people waiting at most of the gates. I sit on one of the benches running along the side of the passage through E, enjoying the contents of the flavoured waters I prepared for my journey, and once the bottles are empty, glance at the electronic Departures screen. Flight JT 382 leaves from E1 at 14:00? Really?

I line up to speak to the agent in E1, surrounded by a sea of Indonesians, waiting for their flight, flights apparently just leaving when they can, the departure time being nothing more than a notion, the only thing you can be more or less sure about being the sequence of departures. And there is no information panel indicating what flight may leave when – you just have to wait here, possibly for hours, with bated breath, and when you think the plane intended for your destination is boarding, run for your life. Really.

The attendant assures me the display panel is wrong – the flight to Medan is leaving from E5, although when exactly is unclear. E5 is packed with people, yet there is no panel announcing departure flights and times, only a huge crowd of people waiting for a mythical signal. In the passage outside the gate, a trio of Americans from Washington has just arrived in the country, embarking on a whirlwind trip to see the highlights of the country. Unfortunately, they will be relying on local airlines to get around, and that could become problematic, given the experience of dealing with Lion Air.

I chatter away, inspiring my newfound friends with tales of Indonesia’s appeal and beauty, confident that hours will pass before we can think of boarding, when the man exclaims that he heard Medan being called. We rush inside to the embarkation point, and yes, they are boarding the flight to Medan. If he hadn’t have heard the attendant calling …

On the plane, there are still many seats, and we need to wait until all passengers have embarked. And now a holding pattern that goes on for at least an hour and a half. Given the chaotic manner in which Lion has rescheduled the flight, it is unclear how and where the passengers boarding are originating from. But at least the air is breathable, the passengers are calm, and the wait isn’t outlandish, as seems to often happen in the U.S.

The flight itself is smooth. The pilot makes repeated ingratiating announcements about their commitment to the travel experience, but from my experience thus far, Lion Air is one of the worst airlines I have ever flown with – although consistent with my expectations of an Indonesian airline. We don’t see very much from the plane, given the cloud cover, but I am assuming we are flying over some combination of the Straits of Malacca and Sumatra. Descending through the clouds closer to our destination, the urban sprawl is astonishing – the density of urban development would suggest that we are already over Medan, but not at all – we still have a distance to travel!

We disembark, trudge through the halls of the airy terminal to its bowels and the baggage claim area. The baggage is unloaded expediently, and the throng thins quickly – until the last stragglers, including myself and the Americans remain – and nothing. We wait, wait, and wait longer. The baggage attendant in her office has no idea what has happened with the Lion flight’s remaining baggage; could they have gone out to eat? Pray? We are told that the baggage could come through on another conveyor – perhaps thrown into the baggage of another arriving flight.

I leave the terminal in frustration if not outright anger at the terrible experience of flying with Lion Air. To top matters off, they send me an email, asking me to rate their service. Seriously! To calm my nerves, a very tasty pie and power coffee from the Roti’O at the entrance, then on to a service that works admirably, and that is the commuter train that runs between Kualanamu airport and the city centre. A wiry uniformed attendant guides passengers through the ticket-buying process to ensure that they experience no difficulties, and then the wait for the next train is on. Of course, I could simply take a Grab car from the airport to Medan centre, but considering the distance involved, I would save a considerable amount (for Indonesia) by taking the train into town, then a Grab car to my accommodation.

Taxis line up at the entrance to the Medan City Centre station, and despite the roving touts’ insistence, there is no way I will be taking a taxi. Certainly not considering the ease, economy, and safety of the Grab cars. The now nocturnal trip to my new apartment unfolds as the car weaves through the torrential traffic of mostly new vehicles, packed onto what would be adequate roads, but not necessarily for this amount of cars. In the light of the street lamps and vehicle headlights the air pollution is quite visible, and of course orally quite detectable.

The city seems overwhelming, towering, weatherworn concrete structures with degraded embellishments hugging the roadside, sidewalks virtually nonexistent. Further along, the world around us opens up, institutional and commercial, stone barriers running along the perimeters of darkened properties, businesses and restaurants with dramatic glowing displays breaking through the nocturnal darkness, and as we progress to what seem to be wealthier areas, far showier establishments, sprawling properties, exaggerated ostenation displayed for what one would expect to be characterized by a far greater modesty. But the extremes of ostentation and poverty are constantly on display in these climes …

My new apartment is marginally larger, more inviting, and far less expensive than the place I stayed at in Jakarta, although of course it doesn’t have the prime location that my former abode did. Well, I am not really sure about that, as I have no sense of the area it is located in. The space includes a reasonably-sized bathroom with a shower cubicle, a kitchen area that would be far more usable if it were equipped with enough implements, and a small open area with a queen-sized bed. One wall is dedicated to shelving and a closet, and most of the outside wall opens onto a narrow balcony. Lighting, AC and wifi all seem to work impeccably, and the place overall seems quite comfortable.

Now I have the problem of being in a vast, sprawling Indonesian city which won’t be easy to navigate at the best of times, given my inability to speak the language, how pedestrian unfriendly the town will be, never mind the late hour. With no food in my apartment, I will have to search out a local market first thing in the morning, which may in and of itself be a headache. Fortunately, I am located in what seems to be an upscale entertainment district of sorts, and so along the road the residences I am staying at are a series of quite fashionable restaurants, European and locally-themed, Warung Ijo coming to my attention as a suitable place to eat some local specialties before everything shuts down.

The restaurant features an elegant, wood paneled room, the side facing the street open to a comfortable terrace, the colour tone Indonesian with its burnished dark natural wood hues. The tempeh fritters and red chicken curry are just perfect, and allow me to wind down the evening in my newfound home without a rumbling stomach. The place may be empty now, but at sundown was absolutely packed, as that is when people can eat during Ramadan.