Flip Flop Thong

Day 4 of my great Indonsian Adventure is about to begin. Let me tell you little bit about day 3 ...

Yesterday was one of those, "Quick, breathe, now onto the next thing!" kind of days. It was great but I could not keep that pace up for long. First thing in the morning, Kim and I headed to the market with Ami and Harris, their house helper and driver. It is about a 10 minute drive from their house, through an incredible selection of twists and turns and vehicles and bikes and people. There are over 14 million people in Jakarta, I am starting to understand in a very small way what that means. Driving in any area of commerce is like being in the middle of a production of a well orchestrated movie, and you wonder where all of the 'extras' came from. Oh, and they are all driving some sort of vehicle. Another analogy might be similar to watching the activity on an anthill. This is no exageration.

We arrived at the market in one piece thanks to Harris's expert ability. As we hopped out of the car, I was cogniscent of the fact that my feet needed careful direction as the ground is a myriad of texture and levels. Because of the rain, which is incredible in itself, there are patches of wet and muck sporadically situated along the entire walking surface. Ami goes ahead of us for if she is seen entering the market with us, the prices of the fruit and vegetables would realize a quick increase. Kim and I wander along behind, she seems completely unaware of everything as she guides me to our destination, you can tell she has been here before. I probably look like a small child entering a candy store, eyes wide open, head swivelling back and forth for fear of missing anything.

As she suggests an entry point into the market I am aware that it looks as though we are headed down a fairly dark alley with stalls and a roof throughout. Looking down at my feet, my internal register spikes as I nearly step onto a wet rotting heap of "compost". Reajusting my compass, I follow along. The tables are beautifully landscaped with the wares of each vendor. In no way am I suggesting that all of the wares are beautiful! Uhhhh, no! The dead chicken peices and animal organs spread out on plywood with flies doing a Riverdance....not in MY bling book.

Kim is looking for fabric to make a special baby boy quilt. We walk up to a counter where there is nearly as much merchandise as 1/2 of Fabricland, although displayed much tighter as the whole shop is about as big as a 6 ' x 12' box. As Kim is chatting to the lady ( in Indonesian by the way!) about colour and texture, my eye has been drawn to movement on the ground. Approximately 2" from Kim's strap covered barefoot in Birkenstok, there is a cockroach, for all intensive purposes attempting to master the dryland backstroke. It is about 2 1/2" long, shiny gold and brown, swimming for all it is worth. The like minded seamstresses are completely oblivious to the 'sporting event' that is taking place at their feet. I quickly realize that I am staring intensely at a level of morbid interest. In my mind I am thinking, "Rebecca, you have heard about cockroaches forever, in movies and books, so now you are face to face, please, it is a bug!"

We move along winding through the stalls following pathways, passing a young man snoozing in stretched out fashion on the top of his motor bike. Amazing what you can accomplish in the right environment. Suddenly I am aware that one of my feet feels wet and my flip flop is sort of resisting following my foot. (Okay, time for a sidebar: seems to me that not many years ago my thongs would have been stuck! When did underwear obtain the right to utilize the descriptor of summer foot wear? Flip flop or thong? I find that almost as distracting as when they changed the words to the Canadian National Anthem! Who makes these decisions? I want to write a letter!) I manage to retain the right to move forward with my FLIP FLOP attached to my foot. I quietly whisper to Kim ,"I don't even want to know what has just splashed up onto my foot." She smiles knowingly and keeps on going. In case you missed it, the funny thing about what I just did was whisper.... do you think there are a whole lot of english speaking merchants in this little village market in the locals area of town? Yeah, so did I mention that this was only day 3 of my Indonesian adventure?

Don't worry there will be more.