The Umpteenth Journal Attempt (Version III)

A few hours ago this time last week, I found myself riding on the back of an ojek heading from Gambir to Cengkareng.

I’m still trying to figure out how I ended up on it. I recall standing outside Gambir station with a backpack and suitcase in hand. I had just picked up my passport nearby, and was going to head straight to the airport to catch my 23:40 flight. The time was 19:00, so I had plenty of time to get there. I thought I’d take the airport bus and save money, plus I could get at least an hour of much needed sleep on the way.

But as I got to the station, I was informed by an ojek driver that the airport buses stopped operating after 6 pm, which was news to me. From previous experience in trying to get the same type of bus from Blok M, I thought they stopped at around 7 or 8. Then the ojek guy said he’d take me to the airport in 35 minutes and for Rp 60,000. I was hesitant at first, but promptly found myself loading the suitcase onto the motorcycle’s floor, putting on a helmet and hanging on for dear life.

As we were speeding through post-office rush hour downtown traffic, a thought entered my head. Something along the lines of, "What the hell was I thinking?" I mean, for one thing, I wasn’t in a panicky rush to get to the airport as soon as possible. I had money to take a cab. And most of all, I did not even bother to see for myself whether it was true that there were no more buses, or whether the guy was a legit ojek driver (though I wonder how does one determine an ojek rider’s credentials). For all I knew, he could’ve been planning to take me all the way to the arse end of Tangerang, rob me of my valuables and left me for dead. Needless to say, that would’ve put my travel plans into no small amount of disarray. I started running escape scenarios in my head and tried to peek over the back to check out the license plate.

In the meantime, I had to put up with the guy’s chattiness. I just went along with it, while being cautious that this could just be his way of making me let down my guard before he pulled the hustle. But as the trip went on, I felt that the guy was on the level. Not that I could really make out what he was saying, what with the collective noise of the engine, the wind and the surrounding traffic.

Ah, the surrounding traffic. Well, I could see the upside of taking an ojek: the traffic from Gambir to Cengkareng, via Tomang and Daan Mogot was just hideous. Even if I’d made it on the bus, it still would’ve taken around two hours to get to the airport, at least. Yes, I could’ve just slept my way through the journey, but still, spending a lot of time stuck in traffic wondering whether you’re ever going to get to where you’re supposed to be going isn’t really a nice thing. I stayed awake during the entire ojek trip, because the alternative wasn’t really hazard-free, especially at the high speed with which we were travelling but I couldn’t really tell, because the speedometer was non-functional in that typical ojek way. Besides, I got to see parts of West Jakarta which I’d never passed by before. Not that I saw much, considering it was mostly dark.

Eventually, we made it to the airport in one piece. I gingerly made it off the back of the bike because my butt hurt like hell. He offered to take my luggage all the way to the check-in counter, but I politely declined and paid him an extra 10,000, silently thankful that he hadn’t hijacked me to the middle of nowhere and slit my throat. After pocketing the cash, he took off, and I staggered my way to the departure terminal. At the very least, I now know what it’s like to take an ojek to the airport, but next time I think I’ll just stick to the bus.

This entry was posted on Friday, August 18th, 2006 at 11:49 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.