SIN BBQ

Karma

2011-11-23T18:25:00.005+07:00

This guy is responsible for killing 1.7M people in Cambodia.

Now he just looks like an old lady at bus stop, listening to young people who are swearing.

I hope the victims find some comfort in his suffering.

Headaches

2011-11-02T18:10:00.002+07:00

I interviewed a candidate today for a job as a business analyst. It requires very strong communication skills .

Me: "You're a project manager now. This is not a project manager role. Why do you want to change?"

Him: "Well it's just ... it's good but enough. As a project manager you need to know this and it's really difficult, you know? Too difficult for now. I think it's enough for now. Sometimes my personality gives me headaches."

Another important part of his job will be managing the scope of projects, meaning he will often need to say no to different people and avoid unnecessary esclations.

Me: "Scope management is a very important part of being business analyst. Can you give me an example in a previous project where there were scope issues and can you tell me how you managed them?"

Him: "Actually when I was working at X, I did a project with [my company]. I was the project manager and worked with [several names of people I know and work with]. So anyway the client had a problem because they wanted you to do work that wasn't in your contract and you said it wasn't part of your contract."

[This was an excellent example.]

Me: "So what did you do?"

Him: "Well I escalated it up to the highest executive at the client and she forced you to do the work for free. You had to do it because you were scared she would not give you more work in the future."

He smiled as he finished his story.

And so did I. Although my smile was really a giggle ... forcibly and hastily repackaged.

Cry Babies

2011-11-01T18:30:00.004+07:00

There was an interesting contrast in the SMH today.

I left this page concerned about my Qantas frequent flyer points balance and not about Sabaya.

Is that wrong?

Is it?

Leech

2011-10-03T15:41:00.002+07:00

Today I'm interviewing someone who received his MBA in Finance from the Simbiosis Centre for Distance Learning, in India.

I get the feeling that once employed he will be hard to shake off.

Audit

2011-09-21T19:36:00.003+07:00

Garuda is Indonesia's flagship carrier. In 2007 it was banned from all European airports due to safety concerns. This was very embarrassing for Garuda and for Indoneisa and they underwent a such significant revamp of their aircraft, service and safety that Europe let them back in 2009.

Today a colleague sent me a link about the new Garuda:

I believe this 100% and am not surprised. Koreans are hot. Right?

It reminded me of some other interesting aircraft services, including the photos being released last month of a Cathy Pacific flight attendant performing fellatio on her co-pilot. China did the best job of spinning it into a headline:

Cathay pacific, pilot stewardess fired after cockpit orgies

I wanted to send by colleague a link to a story about Virgin Atlantic crew who accidentally played the announcement "Wake up you cunts" on the flight from Orlando. It was a joke intended for the crew but they accidentally broadcast it to the cabin. When searched for this article on Google and as I scrolled down the results it was mostly sleazy porn sites. Then I realised what I had written in the search box:

VIRGIN CUNTS

Some of our internet activity gets monitored at work. I can only imagine what this did to my profile. No doubt I'm on some "list" now.

Rag Down

2011-09-08T15:16:00.002+07:00

I like everything about this sentence

A 60-year-old car wash manager accused of groping a "chamois girl" and forcing her to perform a sexual act on him has been described by his lawyer as "desperately lonely and in need of love and affection."

http://www.watoday.com.au/wa-news/car-wash-pervert-wanted-love-and-affection-20110907-1jxet.html#ixzz1XLZHDN2X

If they didn't want a chamois to be sexy they should have called it a rag.

Awe

2011-07-11T14:51:00.015+07:00

This was how the first headline read:

The young woman in the photo is smiling. At first, I imagined her leaning against a pram as she and her baby stared admiringly at a red Nissan Pajero. Mouths agape in awe.

"One day we'll own a Pajero", she mumbles to herself longingly.

Once the headline was updated it became clear that the Pajero had not been stationary:

So it was terror - not car lust - that kept their mouths agape? Go figure.

She makes for very photogenic hit and run, though. It reminds us that it is so much sadder when a stereotype meets with a sticky end.

If 2 aboriginal kids were run over in Redfern they would be arrested in the ambulance. The newspaper would include a stock photo of black kids beating up a taxi driver. Or defacing a building with graffito. Or beating up a taxi driver with empty spray cans. Or something like that.

As for me, I don't care if boring people are hit by cars. If I had seen someone looking this wholesome I would have run her over myself. Given a Pajero and half a chance.

Please Come Back - But Not Yet

2011-07-08T18:48:00.003+07:00

This afternoon, Basement Level, Wisma Mulia

Restaurant Gulali used to be quite popular until about 3 months ago, when a great noodle joint opened up nearby.

This sign is so cute I could eat it. As for the food, I'll give it a month or 2.

Notice the "old logo" wording at the bottom? Also edible.

I'm sure this idea sounded much better in the workshop. However, I can't explain why we would signal "change" in a restaurant and then you start by saying it's the "Same Food" and end with the "Old Logo".

10 points for effort though. I'll definitely be back.

Algunas Fotos Recientes - Los Cansados

2011-07-07T23:43:00.005+07:00

This city is in a constant state of sleep deprivation. Here are a few examples.

Harry Halfjob, Minimart, downstairs from my apartment building

I am very familiar with the storeroom at my minimart because I often the staff to rifle around for a fresh case of soda water. As I headed there recently, this is what I found sticking out from the door. There is no space for anything in this room, even half a body in the recovery position.

A few boxes had been moved out. started making room for his nap and soon got bored. That'll do", he must have said as he nestled down into his makeshift swag.

Business Meeting, Plaza Indonesia, 5 June 2011

This photo proves that it's is not just me that this happens to.

The boss (centre back, grey shirt) is giving a speech to his 25 staff. Not one of them is attention to him.

Look closely you will see that most are punching away at their Blackberries. Some of the ones who are cradling their chins in their hands have their eyes closed. Others are just staring off into space.

This is very common in my workplace, where people find nothing wrong with turning up to meetings and not paying attention. Attendance is the main game.

Every meeting there is at least 1 person tuning out. Whenever it happens that ALL people are tuning out on me, I've started to slip in a few phrases like "That's pretty unreal isn't it?" or "Just like you see on the ocean". As long as I don't change my tone of voice as I say it, I'm safe. Last week when I added "... blue potatoes." to the end of a sentence, someone looked up and smiled warmly. Fake bitch.

Jakarta, Plaza Indonesia, most mornings

I see this chick having a nap nearly every morning when I get past. The motorbike helmut is always beside her. It's a fairly posh store and she must work there. I guess she's too junior to be trusted with the keys.

Maybe after a couple of more years of morning naps like this and she'll get promoted. Then she can sleep inside. Or even make herself a little bed out of the clothes. I'm going to set her up with the guy from my minimart.

If A Picture Paints A Thousand Words

2011-07-06T22:57:00.000+07:00

... then I don't have to write so many.

Family Lunch, La Hacienda Mexican Restaurant, May 2011

This family was out for a Sunday lunch a few weeks ago and brought their uniformed nanny along to tend to the child.

La Hacienda is not a cheap restaurant, which is probably why they also brought in separate food for the nanny - in this case a 50c cup of instant noodles - into which the restaurant helpfully poured hot water. It may seem rude that she's started eating before her lunch companions' food has arrived, but she has to get this out of the way because when the nice food starts arriving she could get busy.

It is not unusual to see a nanny sitting at a nice restaurant, surrounded by fine dining while wolfing down one of Jakarta's cheapest meals. As the saying goes (at least here it does) ... There's no point throwing good money after bad nannies.

There is also nothing unusual about seeing a Nanny relegated off to another table with the kids ... often standing beside kids' table attending to her adopted spawn by forking food into their mouths (only when pointed at) ... or even sitting at yet another table by herself. In the latter case it will often be the worst table in the house - the one close to the dunny entrance. I guess it's handy in case of toddler emergencies. It's called the Nanny Win-Win table.

As the saying goes (at least here it does) ... even nannies need to take a load off now and then.

Some restaurants - I kid you not - explicitly state that their "no outside food to be brought onto the premises" rule does not apply to nannies.

As the saying goes (at least here it does) ... Is there anything those bitches can't get away with?

Banda Aceh, Aceh Tsunami Museum, May 2011

Banda Aceh doesn't get tourists. Firstly it was because the radical, separatist terrorist used to kill them.

Then the tsunami of 2004 kills yet more tourists along with half the population, most of the buildings and all of the infrastructure. Aceh was the closest coastal city to the epicentre to the Tsunami and the worst affected, with over 200,000 people dying in this small province alone. Every single Acehnese has lost many close friends and relatives to this tragedy and for this reason I didn't ask any of them about it.

There is little left in Banda Aceh. Closer to the shore, you can see many rows of pre-fab homes and read how they were abandoned for years, until people overcame their trauma and supersuspicions and were able to move back to their former suburb.

This is Aceh's only museum. It was funded with restoration money and the visitors are all locals - many students.

This is a popular stopping point in the museum, especially for the younger ones. The girl posing in this photo would have actually known and loved some of those little fleeing plastic people in the exhibit.

This pose is about as sexy as a good muslim girl will go, and many of the girls smiled and draped themselves around this railing in a similarly seductive manner. It reminded me of the posing that constantly occurs outside the massive Louis Vuitton store in Jakarta. Some of the others incorporated a thumbs up or rabbit ears.

I saw one guy pretending he was also fleeing from this wave, seeming to show the plastic people how it's really done.

In another exhibit there was a mock house. You wait in line for your turn to go inside, at which point the attendant presses a button. The house shakes as it simulates getting hit by a tsunami - you get to live the moments just before your house is either unhinged from its foundations or collapses around you. We gathered quite a crowd when we took our turn, people laughing at the foreigners as they tried to maintain their balance. The trick is to try and pretend you're surfing, possibly also useful in many other tsunami scenarios. "This white guy is so shit at tsunamis", I imagined them mumbling as they pointed and giggled.

La mesa, lamebook, June 2011

I just liked this one.

Airport Checkpoint, Medan Airport,

Once you're checked in, or on arrival, you are free to come and go from the terminal via this large corridor on the right. There is no need to show your ticket to the booth guy again.

This type of security at a major domestic airport seems to imply that this country either does not believe it is at any risk of terrorism, or does not believe it has any chance to stop it.

I know what my money's on.

Brace Yourself

2011-06-21T10:40:00.010+07:00

It is now quite common to see adults wearing dental braces, especially in Jakarta where many a smile is adorned with a row of metal.

In a developing country like Indonesia - whose economy collapsed after the Asian currency crisis of 1998 - orthodontic services were in short (or no) supply until recently and the rich would have sent their children overseas for braces. As they do for education.

Even today, many middle class families would find it hard to afford orthodontists ... and their children still have to go without.

Luckily Indonesians have pretty good dental hygeine and nice teeth, especially compared with the rest of Asia.

... back to last Saturday night.

Pan is the boyfriend of someone I know. I have only met him a few times but last Saturday I noticed his braces had been removed and mentioned it to him. He smiled back through a row of perfect white teeth.

"Wow - well done." I said.

At that point, another friend else whispered to me that these braces were not for straightening his teeth. They were for cosmetic reasons only. So I asked Pan:

"Did you actually need braces for your teeth?"

-- "No. They were accessories."

"Accessories? REALLY ...?"

-- "Yes really."

"Why"

-- "Accessories. Fashion."

"How long did you have them?"

-- "6 months"

So here's the thing.

In Bandung (a couple of hours south of Jakarta) it has become fahionable to wear dental braces. These are real dental braces, applied by an orthodontist but without any tightening bands.

Braces are still considered a luxury and wearing them is an overt sign of wealth, or social status, or something like that. People who can't afford them spend money on them.

It's fashion, Jim, but not as we know it.

It sounds strange but there are much sillier crimes being committed in the name of fashion or popularity.

Like selling your kidney for an iPad 2. Or carrying a little dog around in a Fendi Baguette. Or unsafe sex. Or the pacman helmut.

I expect this trend to spread quicker a hooker on a fixed fee. Dental braces that is. Not the hat.

What I've Been Up To

2011-06-15T03:58:00.003+07:00

I can be lonely living abroad but you make your own fun. Y'know?

This is more Sunday brunchwear.

Algunas Fotos Recientes - Las Compras

2011-06-12T23:48:00.014+07:00

1. Chicken Caesar Salad, Mad For Garlic restaurant, Grand Indonesia

How could I forget to order my dressing on the side? After all this time in Indonesia I should know better.

I was hungry at Mad For Garlic and did my best to get through their Signature Caesar but couldn't get past the final hurdles.

I fought the dish. And the dish won.

2. Bikes For Rent, Kota

I don't understand why they pair a summer hat with each rental bikes, but I like it.

I also like it when the punters wear these hats as they ride the bike.

Nits and all.

3. Cocktail Menu, Bibliotheque

I remember the days when a Californian Mother Fucker was the cheapest bitch on the menu.

I don't know why they jacked up the prices but I blame Governor Schwarzenegger.

4. Laden With Stories, Traffic lights, Jalan Sisingamangaraja, Jakarta

This, a couple of days after the assassination.

Now I regret not buying it. I would have whited out the "ING".

5. Save The Women And Children.

... for dessert.

This dish is known colloquially as "The Sharon Tate".

6. Wandering Around Ranch Market, Basement Level, Plaza Indonesia

Australia's Finest

I've asked around and no one in Australia has ever heard of this product.

No one on Facebook that is, if that counts.

Comme un poisson hors de l'eau

I walk past these little guys on the way from the pasta to the yoghurt.

They seem to be screaming "let me out".

"That will teach you to eat worms", I mutter as I walk past.

By way of contrast to the full fish...
These little fellas seem much more content and less panicky in their afterlife.

It's nice to find out that entrails find the most happiness in death, given the tough job they are given before it.

7. Please Tell Me Which Honey Bread Am I - eX Mall

The only legend here is that it's "Jakarta's Best Dessert", which is clearly not true.

I don't understand this store and have never seen someone eat in there, so I don't know what this Honey Bread looks like. Or if it even exists. Perhaps it's a myth. Or an ... umm ... legend. OK so I get it now.

8. Sticker Lifter, Home-Fix The D.I.Y Store, Plaza Indonesia

There is nothing remarkable about this plastic lever, except that it removes stickers from things.

Oh. And it kills people.

Judging by the DANGER warning, one can assume that someone's been done in by this sticker lifter. I chuckled (cowardly) as I read it ... imagining the event.

How did the doctor explain it to the next of kin?

"Jimmy swallowed a sticker lifter and I'm afraid he didn't make it."

Or on the death certificate?

"Cause of Death: SLC (Sticker Lifter Choking)."

Or at the burial. I imagine his family buying a cheap tomb stone, frantically using their fingernails to remove the sticker.

If something like this happens to me I hope someone has the foresight to call it a car accident. Or cancer. Or if cancer is too slow, then Japanese Encephalitis. Or irresponsible pedestrianism. Anything is more dignified than SLC.

Mrs Brady

2011-06-07T13:43:00.010+07:00

http://www.watoday.com.au/technology/security/elderly-woman-loses-life-savings-to-indian-scammers-20110607-1fpya.html?from=smh_ft

The only thing shocking about this article is that Edna, at 80, had access to $57,000. I mean ... look at her. Just look at her.

She's a sitting duck. I could shake that down in 2 minutes with some smelling salts and a bag of compliments.

Edna should be thankful that these "Indians" didn't come over and knock her out. Or off.

"Edna Sloan, 80, lost $57,000 to elaborate Indian scammers."

This caption underneath the photo is completely misleading:

It claims that Edna "lost" this money. This is not true. She didn't leave it on a bus. She didn't make a few poor choices on the ponies. She tossed it across the Indian Ocean like a hot potato.
It calls the Indian scammers "elaborate". There's nothing "elaborate" about telling Edna to keep her trap shut ... it's the oldest trick in the paedophile book. Moreover, Indian scammers should be ashamed of themselves for being a bunch of lazy amateurs with poor attention to detail. I mean ... Edna still has a large floral couch. And I see a microwave back there in the distance. A professional wouldn't have left a skerick. Elaborate my arse.
How do we even know that the scammers were Indian? It is tempting to blame Indian telemarketers for all ills, but doesn't it all sound a little clichéd? Dennis was so quick to point his grimy little index finger at India. I wonder if Edna's immediate family have even been properly questioned by the police. What's to stop Dennis from using an Indian accent to scam Edna out of a few grand? He knows the target ... her weak points ... and the old girl would have been so thrown by the accent that she wouldn't even notice an accidental "mum" from time to time.
What are those documents she's holding? The transcripts of her bank transfers? Can't be. Look at the page on the top - it's not a bank transfer. Someone plopped some old bank statements into her hands for the photo shoot and Edna once again just did what some stranger told her to do.

I prefer this slogan:

"Edna Sloan gave $57,000 to her son Dennis, an Indian tax officer"

But most of all I am suspicious of Edna. By the age of 80, people are either very rich or financially fucked. Edna's hair clearly proves the latter. So where did this money come from? And why was it sitting in a bank, doing nothing? This is the type of geriatric selfishness that would force her own children with no option but to take what's theirs. Just as God intended.

This should serve as a word of warning to Cheesel:

When this happens to you old girl - and you mark my words it will - don't expect to be left there sitting on a luxurious floral couch, entertaining the media (and me) in a dated white twin-set. There will be no couch and no microwave. And no documentary evidence.

You'll be left on a plastic stool, dressed in a ratty tracksuit, eating slops.

I can see it now.

Vietnamese Barbecue Restaurant, 47 Ma Mai, Hanoi, Dec 2009.

PP

2011-06-06T23:43:00.001+07:00

I have a new hero and it's called Prince Philip. Over the weekend I was reading about his impending 90th birthday and hunted for some of his quotes. Some of his later stuff is the best:

China State Visit, 1986 … to a group of British students in China:

• If you stay here much longer, you will go home with slitty eyes

Said in 2002 to a blind, wheelchair-bound woman who was accompanied by her guide dog

• “Do you know they have eating dogs for the anorexic now?”

To Australian Aborigines, during a visit to Queensland in 2002.

• “Do you still throw spears at each other?”

To a driving instructor in Scotland, 1995:

• “How do you keep the natives off the booze long enough to get them through the test?”

After the Dunblane shooting:

• “If a cricketer, for instance, suddenly decided to go into a school and batter a lot of people to death with a cricket bat, which he could do very easily, I mean, are you going to ban cricket bats?”

To Elton John after hearing Elton had sold his Gold Aston Martin

• “Oh, it’s you that owns that ghastly car – we often see it when driving to Windsor Castle.”

To the President of Nigeria, dressed in traditional robes

• “You look like you’re ready for bed!”

China State Visit, 1986:

• If it has four legs and is not a chair, has wings and is not an aeroplane, or swims and is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.

Said on a visit to Lockerbie in 1993 to a man who lived in a road where eleven people had been killed by wreckage from the Pan Am jumbo jet.

• "People usually say that after a fire it is water damage that is the worst. We are still trying to dry out Windsor Castle."

During a visit to the new National Assembly for Wales in Cardiff. Said to a group of deaf children standing next to a Jamaican steel drum band:

• Deaf? If you are near there, no wonder you are deaf.

Said in 1994 to an inhabitant of the Cayman Islands):

• Aren't most of you descended from pirates?

Presenting a Duke of Edinburgh Award to a student. When informed that the young man was going to help out in Romania for six months, he asked if the student was going to help the Romanian orphans and was told that he was not …

• "Ah good, there's so many over there you feel they breed them just to put in orphanages."

University of Salford to a 13-year-old aspiring astronaut, who was wishing to fly the NOVA rocket; "Gift of the gaffe: Prince Philip’s top ten embarrassing moments". Daily Mirror. December 14, 2009.

• "Well, you'll never fly in it, you're too fat to be an astronaut."

Whilst on a tour of a factory in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1999 Prince Philip pointed out a fuse box that looked quite old:

• "It looks as if it was put in by an Indian."

Said to black dance troupe Diversity at the 2009 Royal Variety Performance:

• "Are you all one family?"

At Washington Embassy reception for Commonwealth members:

• Are you Indian or Pakistani? I can never tell the difference between you chaps.

During Royal Jubilee tour in 2002.

• If you travel as much as we do you appreciate the improvements in aircraft design of less noise and more comfort – unless you travel in something called economy class, which sounds ghastly.

Comment on seeing plans for the Duchess of York's house.

• "It looks like a tart's boudoir."

Proposal for solving London's traffic problems.

• "Of course, the problem with London is the tourists. They cause the congestion. They block the streets. If we could just stop tourism, we could stop the congestion."

Said to a farmer's wife from Northern Ireland visiting London for a charity event.

• "So you managed to get here without having your knickers blown off."

Said to Paraguayan dictator Alfredo Stroessner.

• "It's a pleasure to be in a country that isn't ruled by its people."

Comment during the depth of a recession in Britain in 1981.

• "A few years ago, everybody was saying we must have more leisure, everyone's working too much. Now that everybody's got more leisure time they are complaining they are unemployed. People don't seem to make up their minds what they want."

"Reichskanzler."

Prince Philip used Hitler's title to address German chancellor Helmut Kohl during a speech in Hanover in 1997.

Of his daughter, Princess Anne.

• "If it doesn't fart or eat hay, she isn't interested."

Comment on US television in 1969 about the Royal Family's finances

• "We go into the red next year... I shall probably have to give up polo."

On getting stuck in a lift between two floors at the Heriot Watt University, 1958.

• "This could only happen in a technical college."

On being shown "primitive" Ethiopian art in 1965.

• It looks like the kind of thing my daughter would bring back from her school art lessons"

Philip did not approve of the noise Concorde made while flying over the Buckingham Palace.

• "I must be in the only person in Britain glad to see the back of that plane."

Meeting a wheelchair-bound nursing-home resident in 2002.

• "Do people trip over you?"

Discussing his role in an interview with Jeremy Paxman

• "Any bloody fool can lay a wreath at the thingamy."

To a 14-year-old member of a Bangladeshi youth club in 2002

• "So who's on drugs here?... HE looks as if he's on drugs."

Asked in 1999 of Tory politician Lord Taylor of Warwick, whose parents are Jamaican.

• "And what exotic part of the world do you come from?" He replied: "Birmingham”

Response to question about how he feels about his life.

• "I'd much rather have stayed in the navy, frankly."

I disagree with nothing.

Sinking Ships

2011-06-01T09:19:00.001+07:00

Here are a some ads which are currently running on Indonesian television.

In the first one we have a woman sitting in her comfortable, happy home talking about her comfortable, happy marriage. I call her Sharon.

Watch it first and then let me try to translate below ...

iklan resik-v manjakani - take 1:

You see.

Ahem.

Sharon's marriage was on the rocks until she discovered this vaginal tightening ointment.

The secret to Sharon's success is simple. Firstly, she had to accept that it was all her fault ... that a loose cunt was the cause of marital friction. Then all she had to do was buy this ointment whose key ingredient is an acorn shaped like a Ferrero Roche chocolate. As the animation shows, her entire cervix has contracted into a tidy V. As the rubber band shows, so has her vagina. The marriage is saved.

The product name translates to "treating rehearsal vagina", although I suspect that resik ("rehearsal") is a slang word for "lazy".

This next advert shows Sharon boasting to her friends, one of whom is applauding vigorously ...

iklan resik-v manjakani - take 2:

And this next ad is more of a "before" scenario, where Sharon (decidedly uglier) gets ignored by her strapping, body-building husband.

He goes off chasing tighter tail until she rubs on a bit of Treating Rehearsal Vagina and voilà! Not only is her cervix contracting but her hair and clothes are better as well and the handsome hubby is back in her arms. I dare say the womb may also be looking tidy but I have no animation to prove it.

iklan resik-v manjakani - take 3:

This whole thing - the ointment, the adverts, the story - could only have been created by men.

Bottom Of The Barrel

2011-05-30T17:48:00.004+07:00

On a conference call this morning. There were about 10 people on the call, from all around the region:

Me: "Kurni are you in the office this morning? We can have a quick meeting and run through the notes."

K: "No. At home today. We need to call instead."

Me: "Are you sick or something?"

Diarrhoea. "Diarrhoea. From the bottom. I don't know how I got it know? But a lot of diarrhoea so I can't come to work"

It also reminded me of when I first met Kurni, earlier this year. We were having lunch with J, one of our new consultants visiting from Singapore:

Me: "Actually Kurni heard your wife just had a baby?" [The previous week I'd been approached to sign a card and eat some cake.]

J: "Oh really? Congratulations. So how many children do you have?"

K: "Yes. New baby just last month. We have 4 kids now."

J: "Wow. 4 kids. That's a handful."

K: "We only wanted 3 and my wife is having the IUD for 6 years already then suddenly this. The IUD not working. It was working fine for 6 years so now after 3 boys we have a girl. You know even with IUD you can never be sure."

As a topic of conversation, there is nothing lurid or shocking about contraception. It's just a little awkward to introduce it early into a business relationship.

Bold New World

2011-05-19T19:08:00.003+07:00

I think I've invented a trend. You saw it here first.

For the past 3 years (or so) I've been bolding people's first names in emails when I need them to do something.

I d this on the assumption that people are always attracted to their own names. It works particularly well in long emails to many people ... as the only adornment to the email, it stands out easily.

About 9 months ago I noticed one of my colleagues in Singapore had started doing this as well. I tracked back into his old emails and realised he hadn't done it - evah - when we first met

Then another person I work closely with (also from Singapore) started. I know him better so confronted him about it directly. He broke easily and admitted that he had copied me. I called him a cunt, warned him to ask permission next time and granted him unrestricted use of such intellectual property.

Today I noticed that my local boss in Indonesia doing it. My reaction was a little more muted. Just a wry smile on this occasion.

Of course, people use bold in emails for all sorts of things. But I am the only one who reserves it for names and only names. And only for names of people who have do do something.

I expect that before long this innovation will be taken up as a standard and I will be fighting for recognition.

After failing to have "mouse-o" catch on as an alternative to "typo" ... I think I'm finally onto something here.

Bold first names in emails - this puppy's going viral. Watch this space.

Google Google Google

2011-05-12T12:35:00.000+07:00

Gmail just popped up with this when I pressed the send button.

They were right.

And I was impressed.

Oh So Pretty. Vacant.

2011-05-09T17:12:00.007+07:00

There are no words to describe America's most famous child circus performer, whose repertoire is as vast as it is popular.

Her Vegas showgirl routine must make the paedophiles go wild - especially now that Justin Bieber is a bit long in the tooth.

This is ~~it:~~ ~~dolly:~~ her:

I don't see a "showgirl" here. The make-up is way too funereal.

I only see a pillow and a noose.

Because JonBenét Ramsey wrecked it for everyone.

Fontaine, Je Ne Boirai Pas De Ton Eau

2011-05-03T15:18:00.000+07:00

The mystery is somewhat solved.

A body was found in the fountain.

And it wasn't mine. Still doesn't explain the continued military presence.

Best Thing About Murdering Osama No 1

2011-05-03T14:42:00.003+07:00

We all went up a notch on the "FBI Most Wanted" list.

Free Lunch

2011-05-03T12:15:00.002+07:00

I've just had my first refusal for lunch.

We were looking out the window at all the military and my colleague said it was probably a tip-off from intelligence that something was going down.

I shared my fears about being the only visible foreigner working in this building. I also joked that it's not safe to have lunch with me. He laughed loudly before gently refusing my invitation.

"Oh no Anthony I'm not having lunch today I think."

Sure.

Le Chair à Canon

2011-05-03T09:29:00.008+07:00

As the only white guy working in the Jakarta office of an American multinational, I don't find this news to be ideal.

"INDONESIA is bracing itself for retaliatory terrorist acts aimed at Westerners ... Security forces in the world's most populous Muslim nation, already on edge following the discovery 10 days ago of a plot to blow up a church in Jakarta, as well as other recent terrorism threats, are now expected to remain on high alert ... We advise Australians in areas likely to be affected by such gatherings to exercise enhanced vigilance regarding their personal security."

I'm just sayin'.

Speaking of which, this morning there were a LOT of military hanging around the streets near where I work.

Turn-off to Grand Indonesia Mall

The Kempinski Hotel

Approaching the fountain

There are even more soldiers here than when the President has dinner at the Hyatt.

Then as I arrived at work this morning our building security guards seemed extra kind to me. Their smiles were wary, yet sympathetic. "You all know I'm lobby fodder," I mumbled quietly to myself as I smiled back.

I asked my boss about it and he said he heard a rumour that body had been found somewhere near the office. They don't need 200 soldiers for a body. Unless they're calling it early. I'm just sayin'.

If you see me in a few days kneeling in front of a camera with a UN rice sack tied loosely around my head, reading a statement ... just I called it early, too.

It's going to be tough to find someone to have lunch with me today ...

Reprisals Reschmisals

2011-05-03T00:20:00.001+07:00

Not looking forward to this at all.

Wish me luck.

Más Fotos Que Las Algunas

2011-04-20T00:44:00.012+07:00

1. Over At The Frankenstein Place, Plaza Indonesia

There is no bookstore anywhere near this sign.
I walk past it every day and know the area well.

The arrow points directly into a clothing store. And said clothing store is not called Lifehouse Bookstore (which wouldn't have surprised me).

Moreover, there is no Lifehouse Bookstore listed in the Store Directory.

I blame the cleaner. The cleaners in this mall are very easily distracted. They as much time stopping and leaning against the mop, as they do on the mopping.

I walk through this mall on my way to work.
Each morning at least 3 cleaners will stop and pause in my honour. The process starts long before I pass them: as the cleaner sees me coming far in the distance ... she or he will abruptly halt, lean, stare and make eye contact ... as I get within striking distance they smile while slowly nodding and saying "Pagi Pak" ("Good morning sir"
) ...
this gaze is maintained as I pass by and it feels like parental supervision.

When it first started happening I assumed these cleaners just hoping to see the fat white cunt slip over. Now I realise it's standard Indonesian politeness. "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Vietnam anymore."

Back to the sign. One of these cleaners probably just plonked it down a few weeks ago while supervising a passing office worker. She must have moved on to some other task and never came back. Or, given that the Lifehouse Bookstore sounds like a Christian shop this could be a new style of terrorism, where the infidels are left dazed and confused.

2. Starbucks, Plaza Indonesia

Indonesians avoid conflict and have a very roundabout way of giving an opinion, using copious amounts of small talk and metaphor.

Nevertheless, surely there are nicer ways to provide feedback.

I'm not sure if this sign is directed at the chef or the farmer. Probably both.

3. Baby On Board

This all looks so creepy. I felt I was Angelina Jolie as I walked passed it.

Romania Angelina, not Africa Angelina.

4. Tattoovertising

For one, this inscription is bullshit. Everyone knows that wings are useless for carrying things (Twin Towers, anyone?).

Or that a tub of chicken wings will make you heavy (man boobs, anyone?).

This tattoo may be the best that this parlour can offer.
It can also be used as a warning sign: like a gangrenous stump on a cigarette packet.

5. Hati-hati, Prambanan, Yogyakarta

Why do I love this sign? Because it's so careless.

"If we don't know how to put up a sign properly, good luck on our stairs. "

6. Adisucipto Airport, Yogyakarta,

A lot of cheap Indonesian ice creams in here but not a single Magnum.

Unilever must be tickled pink with the results of their Indonesian advertising spend.

7. Suits and Ties and Porn and Violence

This sign appeared on a wall at our office, next to the area undergoing renovations.

Patience my arse. This is a pervert magnet.

Algunas Fotos

2011-04-15T11:05:00.009+07:00

I blame my Blackberry for the poor quality of this montage. Nevertheless ...

1. Semen all over Jalan Sutan Syahrir

"Semen" is the Indonesian word for "cement" and t
axis in Jakarta advertise it on signs above their number plates.

I chuckle every time I see it ... because whatever way you look at it ... it's a funny thing to advertise on the back of a taxi.

Who is buying all this semen? That's what I wanna know.

2. Out of the Woodwork: Sogo Department Store, Plaza Senayan

How many shop assistants and security personnel does it take to sell a single dvd player?

The answer to that question is ... drum roll ...

"Itwilleventuallytake9".

The above sales process was kicked off by a single, rogue Sales Assistant. He was Squite capable of handling all aspects of the DVD Player purchase, even when it became complicated by a sub woofer and a set of speakersit.

Nevertheless, back-up soon arrived.

Various other Shop Assistants started appearing from nowhere. Most of them would pace around a bit before settling on a spot to stand. They remained in place staring at the goings-on, making eye contact and smiling.

I got the urge to start feeding them.

When you buy something large in Jakarta you don't have pack it up. You don't have carry it. You don't have to anything it. People do all that for you.

You are even free to in a bit of window shopping around the mall and they will trail behind you, lugging the purchases. I don't quite have the heart to do this, but I know 2 girls at my gym who wouldn't have an issue. They take their maids with them to the gym. The maids stay a few steps behind, carry their gym bags to the lockers, while the girls trot ahead gossiping and supping on Gatorade.

2 friendly peasants in khaki uniforms appeared from nowhere to pack, carry and stalk what had turned into an expensive home theatre.

So really it was 11.

3. Plaza Indonesia - Obligatory Nanny Shot.

The nanny stays back (10 steps) to babysit the balloon while the child enjoys quality escalator time with its parents.

4. Hacky Sacks: Mall eX

When current affairs, terrorism and retail advertising come together the results are breathtaking.

I wonder if it draws a crowd when they cut them down?

5. The new keyboard

If you look closely at my recent key restructure, it is a little nauseating.

6. Smoking Lives

Marlboro is the proud sponsor of many an event in Indonesia.

It's quite strange how quickly this type of thing has come to look ... umm ... quite strange.

7. Sunset cocktails at Ku De Ta, Bali

8. A wall of baby

I don't know what creeps me out more ... Justin Bieber himself or people I know who have never heard of him.

They pretend not to care about such fads, but these same people end up tapping their feet and humming along to "Baby" at the gym. How can you protect yourself if you're not informed?

This bookshelf had 5 books dedicated to Bieber - 3 biographies, 1 photo montage and an autobiography.

Juzzie must have many a tale to tell. He's coming to Jakarta this Saturday night to share some of them with the world's 4th most populous country.

Praise You Like I Should

2011-04-01T13:13:00.007+07:00

This article explains little about Fika's motivations, but does explain why last night's traffic was so bad.

I'm quite fond of Fika, I have to say. And I have such a clear image of last night:

... his colleagues form a dark blue uniformed cluster around the base of a unsecured ladder. You can see "SECURITY" embroidered boldly on their backs as they inspect the tree like a bunch of gormless twits

... a mob of chanting monkey disciples provides a fitting soundtrack.

... one of the guards gets inspired and climbs halfway up the ladder to toss bananas, like a vertical version of Horseshoes. A banana eventually gets stuck on a twig and the ladder wobbles as he descends, gingerly.

... the traffic groans to a standstill and morphs into a long, thin carpark.

It's Monkey Madness!!!

Jakarta is not a tourist city but there is always something interesting going on, with or without Fika. Take this other story for example, which is Also Good.

Red Light Stop

2011-03-31T14:51:00.010+07:00

This is a photo I took 10 minutes ago. I am in a cab with my colleague, stopped at the lights.

A shake of the head usually enough for Indonesian beggars, who are far less pushy than their neighbours. Probably because they are far less hungry.

This kid was persistent, though. Possibly because it was raining.

One important rule is to never - never - give money to begging children. It doesn't feed the child. It only feeds the system that plucks Oliver Twist out of school and dumps him in front of traffic lights, or a mall entrance.

In Indonesia--as with most developing countries--you eventually learn to ignore beggars. This means that about 7 seconds after the lights turned green I would have forgotten all about this kid.

When I was in the car he didn't seem as sad as he looks here.

Beyond The Pale

2011-03-30T19:04:00.005+07:00

I Don't Heart Finland

I have worked with 2 Finns this year, a sample size which allows me to make the following conclusions:

a) Finnish people are lazy

b) Finnish people are fucking lazy

c) I hate working with fucking lazy Finns

Theirs is a lethargy so potent that it has been drowning my workplace in a swill of unreturned emails, overdue actions and incomplete documents.

My colleague, Dedi, used to work for Nokia Indonesia and he confirmed my suspicions. Nokia is not just mobile phones - Finland's largest company owns a big chunk of the market in telecommunications infrastruture - including GSM networks and mobile towers and the like.

Dedi told me that Nokia ruined Finland's work culture. For over 15 years they provided millions of well paid, cushy jobs to plump white giants.

Ironically, the sun shone for a long time in Finland. Nokia's products sold themselve and the Nokia folk in HQ were given highly paid jobs with little accountability. So says Dedi.

Whenever Nokia Indonesia needed to bring Finnish people onto their project, deadlines were missed and tasks were only half done. Although I find it hard to believe this was purely because of the Finns ... it sounds very much business as usual in these parts.

As with most lazy people, I quite like Finnish people on a personal level. They are always willing to participate in fattening things like eating peanuts, drinking beer and lying around. Unfortunately, they also combine this with minimal sun exposure which means that most Finns come off looking a bit Downsy.

Small Talk

2011-03-22T18:09:00.005+07:00

I need to change my small talk. To find an alternative to "How are you?"

This morning I had one of those diarrhoea style encounters. Although this time diarrhoea took a back seat. As it is wont to do.

Rasi is one of my colleagues. I shared a lift with her this morning.

Me: "Hi Rasi. How are you? I haven't seen you for a while."

Her: "I've got chicken pox this week. You see?" [smiles while pointing to various scabs on her face.]

Bloody Herald

2011-03-22T14:51:00.005+07:00

Interesting choice of photo by the SMH today:

It looks like they caught these poor tourists on their way down. At least on film.

My Rusti Indonesian

2011-03-22T09:53:00.007+07:00

Saturday 19 March 2011, midday

Celebrity Fitness, eX Mall

Last week I decided to get a personal trainer.

It's not easy to find a bossy trainer in Indonesia, especially given their friendly and obliging way with foreigners which works very well at Starbucks but less so as an exercise regime for fat cunts.

A colleague who goes to my gym recommended an experienced trainer, one who sits at the bossy end of the bell curve.

"Ask for Rusti ... you know, like Salman Rusti!"

Rusti speaks very little English. While he can count to 10, he tends to skip the 4 or the 8 (sometimes both) This was demonstrated during our first session as he walked me through my weights, so I started counting audibly in Indonesian to shift him back to his mother tongue.

Rusti is not used to working with foreigners. He rabbits on to me at 100 miles an hour in Indonesian, using serious eye contact and an intense look on his face. In the beginning I kept asking "please speak more slowly" in Indonesian but it had no impact. Rusti would simply respond with a curt nod of his head and continue at full speed.

I decided to just stare back at him, squinting intensely as I hunted for familiar English words like "bicep" or "cardio". I managed to picked out the word "fat" quite often, which is both disappointing and accurate.

During my first session I pretended that fat was the Indonesian word for handsome and would smile weakly at Rusti, like a tranquilized housewife.

Saturday was my second session with Rusti and his first at full pay. I chose to start at midday to ensure that I didn't drink too much the night before.

Nevertheless, I arrived unshaven and hungover at 12:05 and the look of disappointment on Rusti's face was palpable.

For the next 15 minutes I squinted diligently as Rusti delivered the bad news: I drink too much, there is no core body strength, too fat, not enough flexibility, I eat my dinner too late at night and my attitude is very bad and on that note it is not just my attitude that is bad but maybe my whole spirit. Rusti certainly seemed to have identified a few things for us to work on.

"I think we are going to get along". I thought to myself while cringeing.

The session was very painful to the body, but at least it killed the hangover.

Rusti decided to finish up with some kind of abdominal exercise. He asked me to balance on a large fit ball, kind of hugging it face down and keeping my body straight. Due to the language barrier I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I couldn't understand the instructions and it left me awkwardly wobbling as I tried to balance while guessing what he wanted me to do.

I tried various things like using my arms and contracting my stomach, much like a press-up or an upside down ab crunch. Rusti kept saying the word "tahan" with increasing frustration. I had no idea what this meant but worked out that he meant "lower, lower" - the movement which would cause the most pain. So I tried move my hips down to extend my back. This made him say the word more frequently, in an exacerbated tone "tahan Anton! tahan!" so I moved back into position until the tahans slowed.

Learning new exercises is hard enough in English with a new trainer because often they make no sense at first, and often feel wrong.

For my next attempt, I tried a crouching movement. I bent inwards at the hips while pushing down on the ball with my elbows. This elicited even more "tahan Anton! tahan!" and I hoped it meant "good boy", knowing it couldn't.

Eventually my muscles couldn't keep me there any longer and I just slid off the ball, inelegantly landing on my left shoulder.

Rusti made me go through this exercise 3 more times. On each occasion the word "tahan" defined his frustrated mantra while I tried all manner of contortions to reduce its frequency.

Finally, Rusti concluded that my core strength was appalling and it would need to be our focus for the next 2 weeks. At the end of the session I signed a form I didn't understand and we parted ways, each of us a little disappointed in me.

When I got back to my blackberry I immediately looked up the word "tahan" in the dictionary. It means "hold". Then I realised. All the time I was guessing up, then down, then bent, then straight, then twist, then whatever ... Rusty was simply telling me to stay the fuck still.

Monday's Child Is Fair Of Face

2011-03-21T08:48:00.009+07:00

Monday 21 March 2011, 8am

Starbucks, Wisma Mulia

The badges on his apron said that my coffee was being prepared by Charlee, the Barista in Training.

Charlee's sniffling and nose wiping indicated a mild cold.

He seemed to be working at slow motion, fondle all conceivable parts of a cup or lid that may one day come into contact with a customer's mouth. I figured it was part of his training and imagined that the frequent nose wipes are a kind of snot top-up, metered out to ensure that no customer missed out.

As is customary in Indonesia, the entire process was carefully supervised by a gormless colleague with nothing else to do. She seemed friendly and bored and I named her Gladys.

I gave Charlee some feedback as he handed me the coffee. I tried to speak discretely but the language barrier required me to perform a reenactment:

"It's not good to touch the nose like this [wipe, snort] and the cups like this [fondle fondle] then to the customers mouth [gulp gulp]".

Nevertheless, Charlee seemed quite receptive. So did Gladys, who maintained eye contact with me throughout the proceedings ... smiling warmly while picking her nose.

Entrevue

2011-03-16T14:40:00.004+07:00

I must have done about 30 job interviews since arriving in Jakarta and it's been an interesting experience.

People here approach interviews very differently.

They arrive on time.

This is the strangest thing of all. Jakartans are never on time, no matter the occasion. I cringe as my colleagues wander into important client presentations 45 minutes late, casually smiling as they pull up a chair. Jakartansa are even late for their most important events like weddings, dinner or prayers.

If you ask them why, they just say it was "macet" (traffic jam) and all is forgiven.

So why is it only job interviews that make the macet dissolve?

They wear their worst clothes

I can't believe how badly people dress for the interview. Men are nearly always a short-sleeved shirt and a ratty pair of pants. I have never seen a suit or tie of any description. I have seen plenty of jeans and on one occasion, thongs.

This isn't wrong - it's just confusing. For those that are successful, the clothing they end up wearing on the job is much better than what they took to the interview.

Why would they dress in their daggiest threads when they are about to make an important first impression?

They never take notes

I have only ever had one person pull out a pen and a notepad. I was impressed until I realised he was only going to use it as an arm rest.

They blab.

Long, long, long answers to easy questions. The response to "How long did that project last?" can go for 10 minutes.

It could be nerves. It could be their confidence in English. It's easier to blab on and delay the next difficult questions from the white guy in a tie.

They sing

Ask them anything about their current job, or life, and you'll get everything back.

This birdy starts singing the moment it sits down.

Ask them anything about their company, revenues, strategy and they'll give it up. Luckily most of the personal stuff is already written on the CV so you don't need to pry.

Sometimes when I get bored I use the session to see how much gossip I can extract.

They tell the truth about their salary

This is a refreshing (if poor) way to negotiate salary. Even people who want a huge increase will tell you the truth.

"Well I've been earning 14 million for some time now, so I think I would like to earn 25 million for this job."

If I wanted to go from 14 to 25, I would tell them I was currently on 22 and expecting a pay increase soon.

As the interviewer, I often respond with something like "Do you realise that this is an 80% increase?" to which I get a broad smile and an embarrassed shake of the head (no eye contact) as they say "Oh yes ... OK but negotiable lah ..."

This happened in an interview I did this morning:

Each time I asked a question he would take a deep breath and hold it.

When I was finished he would smile broadly, let out a loud audible sigh ("aaaaaahhhhhhhhh"), lean back in his chair and chuckle as he rolled his eyes. It was endearing in an avuncular kind of way ... like he was about to recount his old schoolboy pranks.

When he finally rocked forward in his chair he would land with both palms on the table and look me straight in the eye.

This was followed by a very long, detailed explanation which did not answer the question in any respect.

Towards the end of the interview I asked him why he was looking for a job. He smiled and told me that he had recently accepted a job with another company so was no longer on the market.

I asked him why he came to the interview. After a suck, hold, aaaaaaah, lean, chuckle, roll, rock and hand-landing he explained how he had been called in for an interview my our recruitment person, Lina. That she had made the appointment with me.

Me: "So are you still looking for a new job?"

[suck, hold, aaaaaaah, lean, chuckle, roll, rock, hand-landing] "Not yet."

China Plates

2011-03-14T19:24:00.004+07:00

Reuters: China has donated 30M yuan in humanitarian aid to Japan.

Let me get this right.

The world's second largest economy has donated $4.5M USD to help its neighbour.

The first joke to come out of this earthquake.

The Importance Of Planning In Indonesia

2011-03-03T22:56:00.002+07:00

What I looked at for 2 hours today, as I waited for the workshop to resume after lunch.

Intermezzo

2011-03-03T14:23:00.009+07:00

in·ter·mez·zo
[in-ter-met-soh, -med-zoh]
–noun, plural -mez·zos, -mez·zi
1.
a short dramatic, musical, or other entertainment of light character, introduced between the acts of a drama or opera.
2.
a short musical composition between main divisions of anextended musical work.
3.
a short, independent musical composition.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The first time I heard the word "intermezzo" dropped into casual conversation, it was during a catch-up with my CEO.

"If you would allow me a brief intermezzo ..."

I thought it was an lovely way to introduce an anecdote, even one that turned out to be boring.

Our CEO is very well educated and his English is excellent. I had images of him at the opera in Singapore ... it has to be Singapore because Jakarta has no opera. He turns to his wife at interval and says "Wasn't that intermezzo between Act 2 and Act 3 just delightful!"

Since then--once or twice--I've thought I heard someone say this word and assumed I misunderstood.

Not so this morning. During a meeting someone clearly asked me:

"Anthony do you mind if I intermezzo?"

There was no mistake this time. He had both used it and upgraded it to a verb.

Consistent with the CEO, he rouned it out with a long-winded, irrelevant observation which distracted the room.

Then I realised. This wasn't English. This wasn't even Italian. This was Bahasa. The Indonesians have taken this word and made it their own.

-----------------------------------------------------------

–noun, plural -mez·zos, -mez·zi

a short, dramatic interruption to a boring meeting. Designed to distract the facilitator away from discussing anything important.

a long winded, endless anecdote that comes out of nowhere. Often alludes to
photocopiers and printers.

a form of Tourette's Syndrome, using allegories.

At this point I would like to intermezzo.

I just did a google search on 'Jakarta Opera' and found a review "The Magic Flute" from a local production, last November:

"Although using minimal stage props, the lighting and costumes made for a stunning visual experience."

Make no mistake - this quote was placed directly underneath the photo. I don't know which bit they were looking at.

I think that this opera business (and indeed this whole intermezzo business) is best left to Singapore.

Two Years

2011-03-01T16:45:00.003+07:00

A couple of days ago I inadvertently missed my "2 years since I left Australia" anniversary.

I've passed a point where it would feel natural to be living there: Sydney seems distant.

Thinking about it now, I try to find a word to describe how I feel. I think I'll call it cinnamon.

I feel cinnamon.

Namasty

2011-03-01T11:31:00.005+07:00

Most Indian restaurants can only survive in Jakarta by offering a Chinese twist to their food.

This is how my local home delivery outlet brands itself.

I particularly like the "& Sweet" afterthought at the end ... although if they have more late-landing ideas they will have to start using bullet points.

Normally when a restaurant brands itself across multiple countries, it means they do everything badly. Not in this case: the Indian options are good. Oddly enough, I use chopsticks for the onion salad and chicken tikka. They handle them better than other cutlery.

I'm going to start asking them to throw in some chopsticks with the order.

Swing Low

2011-02-28T09:45:00.006+07:00

It is fairly common for Indonesians to swing from broad exaggeration to inexplicable understatement. It's hard to predict which method is going to be employed; or why.

Examples below.

During a job interview last Wednesday.

Me: "Why did you leave your last job?"

Him: "I felt I was not treated fairly."

Me: "In what way?"

Him: "Well ... in terms of workload and also in some cases I was bullied by the management to work harder or to deliver bad news to the client. I mean ... I told them ... I am Indonesian. I can't say these things."

Me: "So what did you do?"

Him: "I had a choice to continue or to quit. And to continue I means I would probably die."

I quickly wrote this down, knowing I would question my memory of it, before pressing on:

Me: [straight faced] "You would die? What do you mean you by that?"

Him: "Well because I was not sleeping and losing weight and people were saying 'Christian you don't look good" and 'Christian if you continue like this you will die' so I realise I cannot continue living so I quite. [sic]"

A job interview is not usually the place to contemplate your demise and I had to admire Christian for breaking ranks. Admire. Not hire.

On a conference call this morning:

A: "Hari won't be in today because his mother died."

B: "Oh. That explains the email I got this morning."

A: "What was that?"

B: "He said he couldn't meet the client today because he was sad."

In a phone conversation this morning with my CEO:

"You know Andi his kid is in hospital so he can't meet us today which guess that's a good thing because we are not ready for this meeting with him anyway."

I didn't feel too bad for Andi. There is no sick child. No hospital. He may not even own a child. "Hospitalised child" is just code for needing a couple of days off. He's probably got some visitors from out of town.

Más Fotos

2011-02-16T00:49:00.004+07:00

I found these pictures loitering around my blackberry.

1. Hati Hati

Setiabudi Mall

Indonesia produces a shitload of cigarettes and a shitload of people to smoke them. The government helps pave the way for its citizens by removing all barriers to churning through all this tobacco.

Indonesian cigarettes carry small warnings on their packets but they are not scary. They are simple messages like "smoking sux", "not good" and the like.

Australia's smoking laws obviously forced many people to head upstairs to Indonesia.

This smokers' paradise called Jakarta ensures that most Indonesians and expats can smoke. Continuously.

Sometimes it feels like everyone decided to stop watching tv in the 50's, when everything was healthy.

Jakarta restaurants have also started offering non-smoking tables, sometimes with ashtrays. I have never seenanyone here request a non smoking table. I have never seen anyone annoyed by smoking. You cannot live in this country if you get annoyed by smoking. It would be like an anti-semite moving to Jerusalem. (Palestinian, anyone?)

I was intrigued to see this long warning under the LA Lights sign at my local supermarket.

It's un-Indonesian to discourage smoking. But it's very Indonesian to be long-winded in attempting to disagree with something. Sometimes at work I stand there staring for ages trying to figure out people's answers to my simple questions ... long stories that ramble on continuously about nothing ... going nowhere ... "So you mean no then?" I interrupt, which often triggers another pointless story.

Once I was in a meeting with my CEO and we were discussing a project issue. I asked him if we should go and meet the client later that week and he started his answer thus:

"Anthony you've been in Indonesia for some time now so you'll understand what this means ..."

He then started banging on about how they were considering outsourcing our printing a few years back but he eventually rejected the idea and now the printing stays in house. I had no idea what he was talking about and after 10 minutes I had to make a guess that the answer was "yes". I made a mental note to warn people not to mention the printers.

I translated this photo when I got home. This is what the sign says.

SMOKING CAN CAUSE CANCER, HEART ATTACKS, IMPOTENCE AND TROUBLED PREGNANCY AND FETUS.

It's pretty straightforward but I'm struggling to see how smoking could cause impotence and a fetus. But like I said - they don't like to exclude anyone - so what the hey.

2. Blind Dates

Plaza Indonesia

I just don't think the client would have approved this slogan in Australia.

3. Internal communication

17th Floor

I mentioned above about how Indonesians can be a little long-winded. This sign was on the door of a locked meeting room last week.

It took me a while but I finally worked out what they meant. They are moving some people to a new floor and this meeting room is storing surplus furniture for a few days. That's it.

As an aside, I like the Braille numbers on the door. They are very inclusive ... even though we have no blind people in the office ... and even though we use the room names (not numbers) when we make bookings.

But if we did have blind people, and if we start using numbers, and if these blind people could get themselves to the correct door on the right floor and fondle the sign in the right place ... it will tell them the room number.

If I was blind I'd probably try to memorise the room names when I stepped them out the first time. Or ask my dog to. Or maybe if I was stuck I would ask someone for help, just like the sighted people do. It would be easier than patting my way around the filing cabinets and up the corridor, hoping to come across some lumps.

4. Toilet

I mentioned earlier that Indonesians love using the word toilet. This was the first sing put up on the new floor.

All the toilets in the building are in the same place, but I guess someone wanted to make it clear.

When you get to the toilets there is no sign (yet) to say which is male or female. Not even in Braille.

5. Supervision

Setiabudi Residence

In Indonesia every transaction is closely supervised. Unless there is someone standing there watching a transaction take place, I would argue that it could not be done.

I bought some wine glasses 2 weeks ago and 9 people were behind the counter. There were 3 people specifically allocated to watching the credit card machine being used.

When I went to pay my electricity bill on Saturday, there was only one person serving me. She went over to another desk to process my credit card, the cleaner must have realised she was alone. He stopped what he was doing and went over to ensure everything went smoothly.

I thanked them both as I left. He seemed to take most of the credit.

6. No, Honey

Gedung Wisma 45

I hate it when they just give away honey toast like it's anybody's business. It's reassuring to see that some restaurants are fighting back.

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 20: Sincerely

2011-02-11T01:50:00.003+07:00

One of my colleagues recently started a new role and started signing off his emails with: "Thank you and sorry if I say something wrong," An interesting way to deal with his learning curve.

It's quite sweet really. A mixture of humble and gentle ... and ... well ... cute.

Whenever I notice him walking past my desk I mumble "So you fucking should be".

Quietly to myself of course. Like any self respecting coward.

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 19: Dressed

2011-02-02T23:03:00.007+07:00

Indonesians dress their salad head to toe, like their shopping malls and their women.

This is - hands down - the worst dressed country I have ever been to.

Apart from an odd restaurant near my apartment (which laminates its food), most mid-range restaurants in Jakarta (even nice ones) use photos of their food on the menu.

The photos are often quite good and the salads seem happy: crisp and colourful and fresh ... and ... well ... dry.

So I point at the photo as I order a salad. Howevr, when it arrives at my table there is a whole different product staring at me. It looks like the salad suddenly caught on fire in the kitchen and the chef panicked. This is not dressing. This is dousing.

I've investigated the salad dressing situation with a few well-travelled Indonesians and no one seems to notice. I think they are protective of their dressing.

"Don't you think that they put a lot of dressing on the salad here?" I ask.

They look at me blankly, which stupid me misinterprets as a request for clarification.

" ... you know ... like ... how in Indonesia ... they usually put more dressing on the salad than they do in other countries?"

By the time I get to "usually" I've either lost them or insulted them. It's hard to tell with Indonesians - especially Javanese - you've insulted them or pissed on their shoes.

In Indonesia you must always remember to order your salad with the dressing on the side.

I have learnt this lesson so at Pizza e Birra tonight I didn't forget to order it correctly.

This is what arrived.

That glister to the salad is not water and the concertina pattern on the top is clearly the work of dressing.

I called the waiter back and leant against the left edge of the passive-aggressive bell curve. "Dressing on the side?" I said to him gently while waving a finger around my salad.

He smiled nicely and pointed to a ramekin sitting north east of the plate. It was brimming with extra dresssing.

I couldn't deny that he was right. I'd ordered the salad. I'd asked for dressing on the side. Both had arrived as asked.

I smiled and thanked him, too stunned to ask what the fucking burrito was doing there on the top. I knew it wasn't backstroke.

This concoction was too oily to eat, even without dipping into the extra litre of dressing up there in the ramekin. The chef must have seen my order and thought "this guy must really like dressing - let's give him some extra on here as well"

This close-up isn't very good but you can still see the oil pooling around the edges of the tomato.

I think I have to blame the Chinese for this. Not for their culinary skills, but for their whispers. There are a lot of Chinese living in Jakartra and "dressing" is very close to "drenching" when whispering recipes around a circle. There's no other explanation.

Unas Fotos Por La Semana

2011-01-30T18:13:00.015+07:00

A few photos from last week, in no particular theme or order.

1. Naming Weekness

29/01/2011, Grand Indonesia Mall

I dunno. It just seems like an odd name for a store, is all. It's not telling us anything about the clothes, except that they can be worn on any day. Or purchased on any day. Who can tell?

This ain't no accident of English, neither. There's no way to fuck this up in Google Translate, or a dictionary. I suspect that the owners just don't like workshops.

2. Wherever You Are

23/01/2011, Social House at Harvey Nichols

An "internal outing" seems like an odd turn of phrase.

They are probably heading out to the botanical gardens for some Monday larks. As in Vietnam, Indonesians like playing odd games with their work chums on days off.

There are quite a few gay waiters at Social House. I imagine them at the Gardens being singled out. Their colleagues are standing around them in a in a circle, pointing and laughing as they are forced to fess up.

3. Ambiguity

26/01/2011, Blowfish Kitchen And Bar

What ever happened to the man in the top hat? I liked him.

This one seems wrong.

It got creepier when the waiter followed me in and stood there watching, waiting until I finished washing my hands.

I also felt awkward as he handed me some paper towels ... and as he started tearing out more from the dispenser ... I politely declined a second helping.

4. "Taking Care" Of The Children

27/01/2011, Eastern Promise Pub & Restaurant

This was my understanding of children's cancer:

Most people think it's a very bad thing to happen - less so to other people's families.
Many people - mostly hippies wearing purple scarves - have set up charities to help these children with cancer.
The charities tend to raise their money by slapping the photo of a bald child onto a large metal mug.
The hippies hang around various parks and thoroughfares, smiling as they rattle their mug at strangers.
The charities spend this money on medical research and Disneyland.

So get this.

Rival charities appear to have popped up.
Unlike their nemeses, these charities try to give the children cancer.
The charities are probably not run by hippies. It's more likely that these are followers of Wanda Holloway and her lot.
The charities have become so popular that they even have a support group ...
And a poster ...
And some crap snacks. (Probably carcinogenic.)

5. Nothing to do with El Al

25/01/2011, Ranch Market, Plaza Indonesia

It's very reassuring to discover that this ice - made from water - is considered Halal.

I wasn't entirely convinced about Halal so I checked it out on wikipedia. I needn't have worried beause it's true. Even Muslims are allowed both water and ice. Lucky devils.

6. Essence of Chicken Ginseng Slurry

28/01/2011, Meeting Room At The Office

Last week was a very, very long and stressful work week for us. It was filled with client negotiation meetings which went well beyond midnight, followed by homework for us which was due the next 8am. More on that fuckedness later.

On Friday morning my colleague presented me with this green and yellow box.

"Anthony drink this. You need it."

-- "What is it Andri?"

"It's for energy. We are all very tired. You need for energy."

This is a very popular energy drink in Indonesia. You buy it at the chemist and everyone swears by it.

I opened the box and pulled out the short, wide, glass bottle in it. It was filled with some odd brown liquid and reminded me of an obese eye dropper
. If dirty was a colour, this would be it.

-- "Let me see ... it says 'Essence of Chicken' ... with Ginseng ... what the hell is in this stuff?"

"It's so good for you ... and nice too ... oh Anthony you always asking ... so just drink it lah"

As with most things offered to me in liquid or powder form, if someone mentions energy or happiness I ingest first and think later.

So I did.

I gulped it down obediently, trying to avoid contact with my tongue. Like a whore angling for a tip.

This tasted far, far worse than it looked. What could I do? So I did what any Indonesian would do: I made eye contact and smiled.

Underneath Her Wimple

2011-01-27T10:12:00.002+07:00

Maria returned to work on Tuesday but I didn't see her.

On Wednesday I ran into her outside the lifts on Level 18. Before I could open my mouth, she slugged me with a couple of verbal warnings:

"So Mr Anthony you didn't tell me if you wanted to cancel your flight to Malaysia tomorrow."

--"Yes I did. I told you that alr―"

"So please confirm by 5pm today please because the travel people need to know and then confirm the tickets."

-- "Yes Maria I already told you to―"

"Thanks Mr Anthony because it's important right?"

-- "Well it's important but it doesn't make any s―"

"So OK then Mr Anthony you understand now? 5pm right?"

-- "Yes Maria."

To an untrained observer this conversation sounds like simple filler. However, Maria operates on multiple levels and this is her poly filler. I would summarise her technique as follows:

Re-establish relationship with the Target via a prior, shared event. Any event will do.
Confuse the Target by construing this event into a new and complicated issue.
Create mild alarm by insinuating that Target's plans may now fall apart due to various oversights related to this issue.
Create guilt by implying that the Target is completely responsible for causing all of these problems.
Build trust by forgiving the Target
Build dependency by appearing to be the only person who is acting solely in the Target's best interests.
Create shared goals with the Target, by suggesting actions which require cooperation between bot hof you to resolve this problem.
Create dependency - you are the Target's only link to the outside world and to the resolution of this "problem".
Create time pressures so that Target has a sense of urgency to act on this issue, above all others.
Use continued talking and asking questions to distract the Target, so that he doesn't have time to think.
Waste enough time on this new issue, such that previous issues (eg "diarrhoea") become redundant.
By following the above, the Target is kept in a constant state of intimidation.

Being familiar Maria's techniques, I stayed calm. Most of this didn't work on me ... except for the part at the end where I didn't feel it was relevant to ask after her health. So come to think of it, all of this worked on me.

I changed the subject. She had straightened her hair and it suited her.

"Hey Maria you've changed your hair!"

-- "Yes well I was too sick of being ..." [She stopped and waved her hands around her head, like it was a crystal ball.]

"Being what? What do you mean?"

-- "I don't know. Messy. Like a lion." [As she said 'lion', she waved her hands briefly around her ears]

"Oh. So you bought a straightener then?"

-- "No. No straightener. I got it all done properly. It was a nightmare. I was 6 hours in the salon."

"Wow! 6 hours. That's crazy. Did you get a break?"

-- "No. 6 hours in that chair." [She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, reliving the pain and frustration.]

"Well it was worth it. It suits you."

She smiled insincerely, turned on her heel and marched to her desk.

I was left feeling weakened and confused. How would someone suffering diarrhoea sit in a hairdresser's chair for 6 hours, getting her hair straightened? And why am I too frightened to say anything?

A Word In Her Behalf

2011-01-24T09:21:00.015+07:00

This morning I received the following sms from Maria:

Please be informed, today i'm not coming to the office because of diarrhea.

Diarrhea is difficult to spell and I expect that Maria's sms involved an American dictionary ... because when it comes to a day off ... and you've gotta hand it to her ... Maria leaves no stone unturned.

Indonesians are pretty specific when they call in sick. Sometimes diarrhoea is even dropped into casual conversation, such as elevator small talk.

"Hi Novi - how are you today?"

Novi: "OK. A little bit of diarrhoea."

It stumps me every time. Not only is this awkward, but it reminds me I most think in images. I eventually say"oh ... that's bad luck" and stare at my feet.

When Maria has not finished a task and I'm looking for her, she also uses the toilet. Sometimes literally but mostly as an excuse. She must know it stumps me. Sometimes she replies to my 4th sms with a simple "in toilet". Other times, she answers her phone with a whispered "i am in toilet". If I hear the echo of ceramic tiles I'm convinced that she's telling the truth. If I detect the background noise of Sudirman street then she's having a smoke downstairs.

It's also common for people to drop the toilet into a meeting. At least once a fortnight I'll be in a meeting room and ask where someone is. "He's in toilet - back soon." There is no hint of irony from the speaker and no hint of anything on anyone else's faces. But it sounds wrong to me. If I was at a restaurant or a bar I wouldn't think twice. But the office environment makes it sound coarse to my ears, which then makes me feel like a prude; or an American. If there's a difference.

In Hanoi I used to hear "I got my period I am going home." which wasn't so much a request as a statement. Maybe that's why it's called a period. Menstruation is probably the diarrhoea of Vietnam and saying so probably makes me a misogynist. And maybe also a bad person.

But here in Jakarta, diarrhoea is as common as a traffic jam and quite unpleasant when it comes on during one. That's alot of diarrhoea. And a lot of work incapacitation. So why no euphemisms?

The Thais say "I have a spoilt stomach" while smiling insincerely. In England its an "upset stomach" and in Australia it's "dodgy guts". Even Eskimos (known for their laziness) have 80 different words to describe snow. So why must the Indonesians head straight to the anus and be done with it?

Back to Maria. I do believe she experienced diarrhoea at some point over the weekend. I don't believe she is still unable to come to work today.

I know she's not bedridden; or even dunnyridden. She's at home in a faded yellow dressing gown. Her feet are up on the coffee table and there is an ashtray balanced on her lap. She's watching an Indonesian soap opera while taking lengthy, relaxed drags on one of those thin cigarettes which are strangely fashionable with Indonesian men.

I should be relieved that she only wants the 1 day off. In Indonesia when people need more than 1 day off, events take a far more dramatic - and often deadly - turn for the worst.

2 or more days are usually associated with mothers suffering heart attacks, a sudden bout of typhoid or toddlers being checked in to hospital at 3am with grave, incurable, mystery illnesses.

At first I took these stories at face value. I believed them. What kind of fair minded misogynist would I be if I didn't? It took a string of miracle recoveries - none of them involving catholics - for me to realise it was mostly lies.

I now know that heart attacks are indigestion, typhoid is a runny nose and anything to do with children is complete bullshit.

These types of ailments are really just a holiday slush fund. The bearer is able to draw on it whenever he wishes.

"Visiting his mother in hospital" they whisper, solemnly, when you ask if anyone knows why he hasn't completed his document.

"Oh," I say and pretend to be concerned, while really thinking is "If it's not finished by Friday, he'd better be able to produce a fucking corpse."

Or perhaps it's something like this:

"Hey Agoes I heard you had typhoid last week?"

-- [smiles] "It was nearly."

"Oh really? That's lucky. You seem ok now. What was it?"

-- [avoids eye contact and smiles weakly] "Not sure. But maybe not typhoid."

And scene.

New Year's Resolutions: 2

2011-01-07T00:31:00.004+07:00

6. Eat more plastic.

Apparently it can't be digested properly, which makes it the digestive tract's bottom feeder. So to speak.

Starting with 2-minute noodles.

New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-04T11:48:00.005+07:00

For many years, 2011 has been the postcode of Potts Point.

This year I'm going to make the bitch work for me.

Changes I'm considering are listed below.

1. Own more adapters and chargers

Now that I have so many wireless devices, I need to invest in more chargers and adapters. A full set for the work bag, a subset for the gym bag, a full set for my office desk, a full set for home and a subset for luggage. It seems silly but it's actually not. If I never have to move them around from place to place, I'll never be without. And for the $100 (or so) that this resolution will cost me, I believe that it will solve 40% of my problems.

2. Be more superficial

In 2011 I intend to become more superficial. This should solve about 15% of my problems.

3. Become good at something

Last year it became clear that I don't have any hobbies. And hobbies are important. So this year I'm going to become good at something. I don't know what it will be. This will likely solve 20% of my problems.

4. Sink into a permanent Fiscal Crisis

Extend my spending and credit exposure, to the point where euphemism will be required. By end 2011 my situation will be best described as "a situation". This will probably not solve any of my problems.

5. Make work work for me

Given that my workload is unlikely to ease, expenses fraud is probably my only option. This will likely solve 7% of my problems.

Yule Timing

2010-12-24T13:27:00.005+07:00

In: The office
On: 24 December
At: 1 pm

Discussion between me and a colleague, who is Muslim.

Me: "Aren't we supposed to be allowed to leave early today?

-- "No. Only the Christians

"And you're Muslim, right?

-- "Yes.

"Am I considered a Christian in this office?

-- "Yes

"Why can't I go home?"

-- "Because you are too busy today." [giggles]

"Why is the office so empty now?"

-- "Every one goes home."

"But aren't most people Muslims?"

-- "Yes. About 80%."

"So have the Muslims gone home?"

-- "Most of them. Yes."

"So why do they get to go home now?"

-- I think they just convert to Christian for the afternoon." [giggles]

"And what about me? Isn't this my holiday?"

-- Maybe you pick the wrong afternoon to convert to Muslim."[giggles]

I hate it when that happens.

Except For Every Meal

2010-12-14T13:40:00.005+07:00

Maria fell ill in the days leading up to her weekend birthday. It was unfortunate timing.

Friday evening must have been kind to her because during the weekend she had recovered. I know this from the multiple changes she made to her Blackbery profile (a common habit in Indonesia). Her progress was mainly charted via cupcakes, party references and shopping.

Unfortunately, Maria must have suffered a relapse on Sunday night because she was sick again on Monday. I began to worry that it was something serious.

You can imagine my relief when she returned on Tuesday. I know this from her reply to an email I sent 6 days earlier. The usual excuses about expenses and payment signalled that she had returned to fine form. I paused halfway through her email to think up some teasing questions and call her bluff about the "illness"

Then it happened.

I felt a tap on my shoulder with a pen and spun around. To this.

I mean ... what could I say?

You gotta hand it to Maria - she knows how to see a plan through to the end.

Unless it's my expenses.

The Slip

2010-12-14T09:21:00.004+07:00

Last weekend I met someone who runs an importing business and has a lot of contact with Indonesian Customs and shipping.

I asked him about corruption, which fascinates me.

For the past year (or so) the Indonesian government has been clamping down on corruption and bribery within Customs. The new policy requires importers to issue a letter to their assigned Customs Officer (the one in charge of your shipment).

When your goods arrive in Indonesia you present a bunch of documents to the Officer, including this letter. The letter states that the Officer has not requested or received any form of bribe from you.

Apparently they put the bribe in the same envelope. When the Officer opens the envelope he finds shipping documents, an anti-corruption letter and his cash bribe.

Srsly.

I guess there's point using 2 envelopes. It would be a waste of good money.

Life And Milk

2010-12-13T10:30:00.003+07:00

I run a regular team meeting on Monday afternoons.

Today I received the following "decline" from my colleague in India:

"One of my colleagues in Delhi expired yesterday due to heart attack. I am rushing to his cremation now. Please excuse me for today's 2pm meeting."

I wonder how - in his search for the appropriate English - did he settle on "Expired"? It's a little Orwellian.

Euphemisms are tough in a foreign language. Even still, Expired is a weird resting place .

And speaking of resting places ... what's with the rapid cremation? It's as if the guy collapsed onto a fire and they had no choice but to stoke it and ask people to hurry.

Solve A Problem

2010-12-10T16:02:00.002+07:00

I was looking for a little clip to accompany my Maria post and found this

It is excrutiating in so many ways. The real test is if you can watch all the way to the end, continuously. (I failed on both fronts.)

Santa Baby

2010-12-10T15:36:00.008+07:00

I was sitting at my desk this afternoon and without warning, Xmas music started playing loudly on the speakers. It was quite a surprise because I didn't even know we had speakers.

"Let it Snow" came out loudly on the speakers (the Dean Martin version) followed by an announcement.

I looked out the window. As usual, it was humid, hot and choked up outside and a northerly traffic jam was blowing across Jalan Sudirman. Throw in a bit of snow and the city would be fucked.

Secret Santa was hereby announced. Muslim empire is not protected from a bit of Secret Santa. Or excitement about snow, for that matter.

This was followed by Asian Santa. I think he was one of the guys from Receivables (why is it always the secretaries and the guys from Finance who drive this stuff?).

He didn't "ho ho ho" so much as say "I'm Santa! It's Santa" in a semi booming voice. As he got closer I realised how terrible his costume was, in both manufacture and carriage. The beard wasn't even covering his mouth. I he must have found it annoying, preferring it loosely hanging under his chin.

A couple of randoms from the secretarial pool were wheeling the mail trolley through the office, doling out German looking candy.

If there's anything that Indonesians love more than being Muslim, it's something that involves dressing up - prefereably with a holiday thrown in.

How Do You Keep A Wave Upon The Sand?

2010-12-10T15:29:00.004+07:00

In Indonesia when it's your birthday you have to bring a cake to work. It's the same in the Philippines.

One of the other secretaries came up to me this afternoon and whispered to me "It's Maria's birthday tomorrow [Saturday]. Don't tell her I told you."

Maria sits on a different floor to me, an arrangement which suits each of us. So I decided I would send her a quick note to tease her ... ask if she could come in to work tomorrow.

After a couple of hours I hadn't heard back from her. She usually takes the bait by then. So I told her informant what I'd done.

"Oh. Yes. She's sick today. Yes. Very bad flu."

So sick just a few days before her weekend birthday? Not just a bout of flu; a bout of bad luck.

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 17: Christbucks

2010-12-07T11:07:00.003+07:00

Christmas has certainly hit Starbucks Indonesia in a big way.

They are selling a special Christmas Mix coffee. There are special Christmas concoctions and some other strange offer of a calendar once you achieve 24 stamps (stocks are limited). There is also a Christmas CD mix, on continuous loop since mid November.

I am writing this from a comfortable chair, nestled against a speaker at a less than comfortable volume. Today is a Muslim holiday. I think it's Lunar New Year or something similar that sounds like a hoot.

Currently playing in the cafe? A jazzed up version of RTRNR. Boom cha boom cha style.

Its antecedent? The little drummer boy, drawn out as a slow dirge.

I am sharing this Christmas CD with 2 women in the outdoor seating area. They would be my neighbours, but for the window. Both of them are wearing stylish glasses and a hijab (one yellow, one green). As is the custom here, each has ordered a tall, fluffy, stylised drink. If coffee was gay, this is what it would wear.

One of the drinks seems to be a chocolate avocado creamy type thing (nicer in the mouth than on the eye). The other looks like one of the Christmas specials, with raspberry sauce drizzled over the whipped cream. It's supposed to look festive, but hers looks more like a grizzly murder in the alps.

They are both banging away furiously on their Blackberries and not paying attention to each other - another Indonesian social norm. Maybe they're even chatting with each other. Green is chain smoking, effortlessly incorporating quick drags into her Blackberry frenzy and occasionally flicking her glasses back up her nose. Call me a sentimentalist, but there's something about seeing Muslim women chain smoking that makes me feel confident about the future of our planet.

This is a strange country.

Au Revoir DK

2010-11-29T11:39:00.004+07:00

I bought my Blackberry at the end of May. In mid June I asked Maria to connect it to my work email.

This process requires Maria to navigate some red tape.. I'm not saying it's difficult ... but it requires a few extra steps.

And Maria hates steps.

So here we are at the end of November and it is still still not done. A few weeks ago, I put some heat on Maria to close it out. By "heat", I mean emails littered with "pleases" and "thank yous" because it's Maria we're talking about.

As a result of this heat, The Blackberry has usurped The Expenses as Maria's number 1 subject of choice to interrupt me with ... the interruptions she barks out through lift doors and in passing, to stop me asking what she's doing away from her desk.

"Hi Maria how are you?"

-- "Good Mr Anthony. How are you?"

"I'm well. Actually this morning I sent you a note--"

-- "Your Blackberry!! Mr Anthony!! Your Blackberry!!"

And so on and so forth. We all know how it goes by now.

Over the months I have become so tired with the Blackberry topic that I can only chase her up on it intermittently. I've now run out of Valium so can only follow up on these matters after a good night's sleep. And after all, expenses had been dominating our relationship until recently.

This morning was one such occasion. I dug up an old email from Maria from a few weeks ago and tried to follow the instructions she had sent me.

I clicked on the link she sent me. Again.

It still didn't work so I promptly called Maria. I explained to her that my link didn't work. Again.

She chirpily replied that she would be done to see it. I tried to stop her - to tell her that it was the same blank screen she saw last time - but she had already hung up. Maria likes to see things in person: it's a trip away from her desk.

17 minutes later she arrived at my desk stinking of 2 cigarettes, smoked in quick succession. She hovered over me as I clicked on the link. My eyes watered and a blank screen appeared.

"That doesn't work Mr Anthony." Her diagnosis was instant and confident.

-- "You don't say." I mumbled to myself inaudibly ... the whispered retort of the weak.

Maria feigned shock at this outcome, said she would get right onto it and wandered away to the lift. Even though the lift is less than 15 metres from me, I noticed her stop for a chat a couple of times and wondered how many facebook friends she has.

2 hours later I contacted her for a progress report. Her response was self-explanatory:

"On Nov 10, Ipshita of India said they were going to investigate your case but nothing happened after that."

It seems that Ipshita has fucked up my Blackberry. It's not every day that you get to say that: Ipshita must have heard that Dirty Keith had returned to Singapore, spotted an opening and jumped into it.

I am now faced with 2 options - do I ask Maria to continue with her investigations, or contact this young Ipshita upstart myself?

The question seems to answer itself.

They Call Me 'Stacey'. They Call Me 'Her'. They Call Me 'Jane'.

2010-11-23T15:35:00.012+07:00

You may remember Dirty Keith from Singapore Non Sequitur Number 4?

Well Dirty Keith is back.

For the past month I've been working with DK on a client proposal and yesterday he had to do a demo.

Apart from being the target of my childish smut, Keith is also is an expert in databases. Something like that.

There he was yesterday showing people all sorts of things, various bits of data moving around Indonesia. Something like that.

Part of the presentation included showing a typical customer scenario. In this part of the world, Joe Bloggs doesn't work as a sample customer name. Keith used Ronald Chan. I assume he is the Joe Bloggs of Singapore, where Ronald Chans are as common as skinny arms and rudeness.

Keith is a diminutive Chinese Singaporean who uses his bad haircut to camouflage a sharp brain. He parts his hair on the side, pulls his light grey pleated trousers up a little too high and swings his skinny arms out from an ugly golf shirt. The shirt itself is from a 2008 database conference in Bangkok: sponsor logos are sewn onto each sleeve.

Keith's age hints at Generation Y but his styling screams 1940's Chinese nerd convention. He doesn't wear glasses but if you had to draw him from memory you could be forgiven for including them. His presentation style is friendly and animated - compensation for the dreary content:

"It is proven to scale almost linearly. Therefore Job estimation of end time can be extrapolated based on previous run time and volume."

Srsly. You can't make this stuff up.

"The challenge with semi on-line storage is decision how the data can be aggregated for longer retention periods."

Keith flicked around more grey screens. He was big smiles and flailing arms - but it wasn't enough to compensate for this boring shit.

"I will now demonstrate the job monitoring features: please refer to the process' CPU consumption" here.

After a while my mind started wandering. That while was 53 seconds.

I noticed that Keith's trousers were the same colour as the OK buttons on his demo screens. I pondered whether it was intentional.

"Data lineage is demonstrated in how the changing formula will show analysis of the impacted report"

My eyelids were heavy and his golf shirt was blurring into the projector screen.

"De-duplication is challenging. Common names can appear many times in the database but you don't know if it's the same Ronald Chan."

I was starting to fall asleep.

Then it happened.

"I don't know if and of you remember my name?"

My eyelids sprung into life. I became alert but contained. Anticipating a kill like a cat spotting a cockroach in the corner.

"I'm Kum Yeung Kok."

And scene.

I'd never heard Kum Yeung pronounce his full name before. People usually call him "Koom" or "Koom Yoong" to avoid going all Benny Hill on his ass.

Kum Yeung, on the other hand, has no such hang-ups. His pronunciation was perfect. Every. Word. Of. His. Name. Was. Enunciated. Precisely as it is sniggered.

"There are not many Cum Young Cocks in the world", he declared again quite loudly. Indeed.

This got me wondering how I could transition my pronunciation of Koom Yoong closer to his own, more accurate yet Benny Hill version? The disobedient side of my brain was grappling with being able to use a socially acceptable norm, and was intimidated.

"Because Cum Young is quite rare," he continued. Deary me.

This was all so inappropriate. So Dirty Keith.

I wondered whether Keith was having the last laugh, with his skilled poker face.

Surely someone else must find this amusing? The eyes of my own poker face swept the room, looking for signs of recognition or wry. I maintained the stiff composure of a toddler who has stolen a shoe.

But there was only one person sniggering and it was me. I imagined him doing this in Australia and chuckled along with my imaginary friends.

"So you can find my name here very well. See? I'm not like Ronald."

No you're certainly not. You dirty bastard.

Hogswallop

2010-11-17T16:13:00.004+07:00

This article discusses about Prince William's engagement to Kateshername.

My favourite quote is this:

The British Prime Minister, David Cameron, was informed of the engagement during a cabinet meeting and said the news was met with a "great cheer" and with "a great banging of tables".

Sometimes you wonder what the fuck is going on with Britain. Just when you think it's in the 21st Century, you hear of them carrying on like Hogwarts.

Cameron - 5 points!

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 16: Starbucks

2010-11-05T09:02:00.005+07:00

Here are 2 pictures I took this morning in Starbucks Setiabudi, across from my apartment.

Both of them decry this country's reputation as a conservative, Muslim dominated state.

Let's start with Christmas.

That's right. This morning they launched Christmas today in Starbucks, 7 weeks and 1 day before December 25. Hats on to them for getting in there first.

Alongside this they've repackaged some regular offerings into Xmas specials, mostly by squirting a shot of raspberry into your beverage.

There's nearly always something free at Starbucks for the oddest things - like a Friday donut. Or a free muffiin if you use your (labour intensive) BCA credit card to make a purchase between the 3rd and 16th of the month, or a creme brulee with every purchase of a syrupy Xmas beverages. Or not saying thank you.

Let's finish with golf.

Golfers obviously don't just come out. They really come out.

This issue of whatIthinkisagolfingmagazine was taking pride of place on the Table For Reading Material (as it's called).

I understand that the above implicates me as a regular Starbucks customer ... and I hang my head in shame. And reach for my coffee. And sip from my Venti Quad Non Fat Latte. And take a bite of my complementary donut. Which I now spell in the American way. As I also do with "organization". Just to fit in.

Baby

2010-11-03T08:23:00.003+07:00

This morning I received the following email:

Hello Dearest,

I came across your contact at www.englishbaby.com and I decided to contact you.

Really I am here to look for that lovely, great and ideal man to love. Honey remember that distance, age and race are not barriers to a true love. However, I am a single and lovely young lady who wants to be dated with love and passion. And I will appreciate if you can reply me. I am 24 years of age, 5.37 in

height, 64 kg, and never married. I will appreciate if you can reply my mail.

To enable me send you my pictures and more information about myself.

And while waiting for your lovely and positive reply,

I remain your lovely

Benita

Something tells me this could be the same Benita from yesterday. It also seems like I've been listed on a site called "englishbaby" ... which will certainly increase my odds of finding an Indonesian bride.

I suspect this is not the last we will hear from Benita. Or brides.

Send your emails and take a number, ladies.

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Benita?

2010-11-02T17:37:00.009+07:00

I received a note this morning from the lovely Benita, a lady with whom I am yet to have had the pleasure of making myself acquainted.

Benita's email arrived as a long stream of text. I have broken it up, below, into palatable bites which represent my unfolding reactions while reading it.

"Hello Dearest,

This is a strong, superlative start.

"I came across your contact at www. jakchat.com

At first I was a bit confused. Then I remembered. A few months ago I joined a web forum called "jakchat", which is a forum for English speakers to get news and information about Jakarta. It's a poorly organised site but after an hour I found an Indonesian teacher there and I haven't been back.

It's better than the (more visual, less informative) activities that could have been associated with that web address.

and I decided to contact you. Really I am here to look for that lovely, great and ideal man to love.

... so which one is it? Make up your mind, bitch.

"Honey remember that distance, age and race are not barriers to a true love.

Firstly, in my experience if you call a stranger 'Honey' it means you are waitressing in a midwest diner.

I imagined Benita pulling a pencil out from behind her ear as she greeted me, while flicking her thumb across her tongue then across the small notepad then writing "huevos rancheros and coffee - hold the grits".

On the other hand, Benita seems to be an equal opportunity girlfriend who welcomes all takers. That barries statement sure had a way of ruling out any "ruling out" on her part, as it were.

"However, I am a single and lovely baby young lady who wants to be dated

By this stage I was thinking of calling her so many things.But "lovely baby young lady" was not one of them.

Where did the fuck did the baby part come from? (No not the corner, Cheesel.)

That said, Benita's use of "dated" seemed more accurate ... as in "Benita I'll date you with this fucking email if you're not careful".

I imagined a somewhat surprised look on Benita's face. It was an obedient version of surprise and it gave me the creeps. I think it was subservience.

with love and passion.

Oh for fucksake, Benita ... you want both?

Benita seemed awfully confused about the immutable laws of life ... Passion is supposed to replace love, not co-exist.

I imagined a flowchart with "Benita" written above it. Illogical arrows were cross-crossing each other, like a modern-day Esher.

"And I will appreciate if you can reply me. I am 24 years of age, 5.37 in height, 64 kg, and never married.

In Indonesia, "never married" normally implies fresh and innocent, of which I suspected Benita of neither.

"I will appreciate if you can reply my mail.

How could I not?

And yet. Not.

To enable me send you my pictures and more information about myself.

It's interesting that she doesn't ask for pictures or information in return. I imagined the calbire of eligible bachelors (and husbands) that typically respond to such an introductory emails, and figures that photos can wait.

And while waiting for your lovely and positive reply,

I imagined Benita dressed in a pretty party frock (green) and a wide-brimmed straw hat. She's staring at the clock, waiting for my positive reply. It's the desert. The clock is sitting on a rock. Benita's smile is slowly fading. Tick tock. Tick. Tock. There is a pencil tucked neatly behind her ear.

"I remain your lovely

My lovely?

My lovely?

My lovely?

It didn't feel right. I haven't earned Benita's enduring devotion and monogamy. At least not yet. This tasted a bit one-sided. Like sugar.

Or honey.

"Benita"

By now I was sure her name was not Benita. Call me a cynic.

indonesian Non Sequitur 15

2010-10-27T18:44:00.000+07:00

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 14: Macet Gila

2010-10-26T00:36:00.004+07:00

Last night it took me 8 minutes to travel from Kemang, a nearby suburb, to Setiabudi where I live.

Tonight at 7pm the trip was around 3 hours.

However, if you left the office at 10pm it was down to about 2 hours.

------

Update: a colleague today described how he took 4.5 hours to get home last night. Another spent 5 in a cab from the airport.

Indonesian Non Sequitur Number 13

2010-10-23T18:11:00.003+07:00

Today when I was in Starbucks (yes Starbucks) having a morning coffee, a general announcement came on the PA of the mall.

It was in helpfully in English:

"Ladies and gentleman,

"Your sentence please. We are pronouncing that our here test. Please remind where you are standing now."

An Indonesian version followed - its instructions were probably a little clearer.

Then the English version followed again, only this time we had to remind where we were sitting.

It's all so confusing, if a more inclusive.

Then again, I'll always remember where I was sitting at that moment. This probably means that I followed their instructions to the letter. Obedient me.