Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
The author, a well-travelled woman, speaks of the first year of her stay in Jakarta with her family, a city very different yet so similar to the cities in India.
Mid-July was our (the children & I) first anniversary of moving to this city called The Big Durian. While we still are unable to take/tackle the flavour of the fruit, Jakarta, the city named after it, has found favour with us.
The mass exodus of folks going off to their native place for Ramadan, the decorum during a ‘macet’ (traffic jam), the Friday’s dress of Batik, the gleeful love of street food, the clean prayer rooms provided in most public buildings, the community spirit in its ever smiling citizenry and solidarity of its residents, characterize this 490 years old city.
Where else will you see energizing community Zumba classes on Friday mornings, in open common areas of office buildings, with many of the ladies in Hijab and men in batik?
The traffic where we live is terrible but drivers rarely honk or cut lanes. Gojeks (two-wheeler taxis) epitomize this city- inclusive, warm, equalizing, trusting and trustworthy. Imagine a woman getting on to an unknown man’s bike in India or vice versa (Yes there are lady Gojek drivers too)!
Image credit – Arthi Anand Navaneeth
The first few weeks in Jakarta we would be alarmed (pun intended) by the pre-dawn adzan (call to prayer) consisting of a mixture of male and female voices of the muadzins (announcer) in a wide range of pitches and melody. Now, it often goes unheard and unheeded as I slumber on for just a few more minutes.
In the early days, I recall how my younger one had asked “…if we drink susu ( Indonesian for milk, Indian for piss) do we do dhudhu ( Indian child speak for milk) in the loo? …” From that point, we have arrived at a time where I announce “…the susu man has come” during our recent trip to Bengaluru.
Nature has been very generous to this country and it is visible in the green cover, the beaches, the parks. It also has more than a fair share of volcanoes and earthquakes. It rains throughout the year.
Despite the plentiful availability of natural products in the country, it pains us to see the excessive use of plastic (multiple layers of packing) and the lack of garbage segregation in Jakarta.
I am the only expat in my office and that ensures that I get my daily dose of local culture and language. It also helps me make friends beyond the expat Indians (a gang, which has helped us settle in- from sourcing veggies/ snacks we like to guiding us on shopping and sightseeing)
The average Jakartan hardly speaks English but the grip of English music over the populace is extraordinary. I hear my colleagues belt out English songs without a single mistake, even if they have difficulty conversing in English.
People of Jakarta seem to take a keen interest in crafts, museums, sport, shopping, yoga, nail art and of course, Bollywood. And to top it off there is a huge selfie culture.
You get to see Indian artists on a regular basis. I have enjoyed Qureshi (Percussion) and Manu (Film Music), and even missed some good ghazal and Carnatic shows. After the US, UK, and Singapore, I think a lot of Indian celebs visit here.
The children’s school has offered us all, multi cultural exposure & friends (even if only casual) and the library is the best one could have asked for. It has also let me keep in touch with story telling, in a limited way.
Due to my ignorance of Bahasa, I miss conducting story sessions for the locals but I gather so many everyday stories from the warm folks here, especially their tryst with Bollywood.
We have a driver who we can barely communicate with. While it is frustrating (only rarely), it is also a blessing- no chatter on long journeys when you want to shut eye. And we have a maid who is so interested in Indian cooking that she decided to take down recipes from my mother, on her trip here, and now cooks them for me.
I have come a small way from constantly converting IDR to INR, each time I have to buy anything. I do it still, but it does not make me cringe!
In this one year, we have explored the typical tourist circuit of Thousand islands, Kawa Putih, Bogor, Yogyakarta, Bali, and Surabaya. But my proud moment is when locals at the office come to ask me about places to visit in Jakarta.
We had both sets of parents visit us and my soul sister also managed a shorter stop here.
While we eat out fairly frequently here, the choice is limited for vegetarians. We are now fans of the coffee ‘roti’, Vietnamese cuisine and white coffee. Our go to fare is Italian or Mexican, though Navaneeth has acquired a taste for Gado Gado and Nasi Goreng.
Not many walk here (high heels get stuck) and as I trudge back the two kilometers from office, I find the footpaths make me feel alone in a crowd. A little space to be by myself, without feeling lonely.
Thank you, Jakarta for making us feel at home!
Published here earlier.
Header image source: By yohanes budiyanto (http://www.flickr.com/photos/joe-joe/2303992129/) [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons, for representational purposes only.
Guest Bloggers are those who want to share their ideas/experiences, but do not have a profile here. Write to us at [email protected] if you have a special situation (for e.g. want read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
Please enter your email address