April 5th: West Jakarta to East Karawang – 71.35km

Day 174

Aiming for our next destination towards the east, Cher trusted Google maps to navigate us through some back roads. We were quickly lost in the slums of West Jakarta. Unwilling to get back onto the congested highway in the city, we continued to push deeper and deeper into the labyrinth hoping that the muddy path we were on would turn into a road. We passed many curious onlookers who were too surprised to even approach or yell at us. Two foreigners on trikes riding down a dirt path in their yard was not a normal sight for them.

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The dirt road itself was bumpy enough, yet everywhere we went there were speed bumps 10 meters apart as if anyone could have gone more than 10kph. We were on the back road in the slums for an hour making progress in meters at a time. I imagined that bushwhacking through a jungle with a machete would be faster. Eventually we reached a point where we could go no further. A field of rice, several kilometers wide separated us from the nearest major road.

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From constant use, Cher’s tablet died in the middle of the labyrinth. We had to navigate the old-fashioned way – I picked a road and got out my compass determined not to leave the concrete again.  We tried 3 different seemingly big routes, hoping to head towards somewhere, and they were all dead ends. With only one more direction to go we set off, picking a town in the distance. I stopped to ask some local teenagers if we were going the right direction but everything I said to them they replied yes. You speak English? Yes. Bekasi? Yes. We want to go here, (pointing at the map). Yes. I moved on to some adults and pointed down the road, Bekasi. They also pointed and repeated Bekasi. Finally I gave up.

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Eventually we got out of the slums back on the road again. This was not an improvement. Cruising along at 25 kph, the traffic would suddenly stop. Either the concrete ended, a giant pothole required the heavy traffic to find a way around it or what Cher called “freelance traffic conductors” were stopping the traffic so a large vehicle could pull into traffic. These traffic conductors placed themselves at all intersections and breaks in the barrier between the two lane road. They made their money from tips. Drivers using their services, trucks, buses and cars, pass cash to the conductor as they merge. That the necessity for such a job exists should give you an idea of the volume of traffic.

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We found a hotel along on the Citarum River, which we later learned is one of the most polluted rivers in the world. This river and many others in Java are so polluted that water companies are unable purify them into drinking water. Even tap water from treatment plants can be contaminated with fecal coliforms. Water from the plants is piped through leaky pipes and stored in containers buried under ground which can be contaminated during flooding. Some businesses pump water from wells that may not be deep enough to avoid contamination from chemical waste produced by factories. Basically all water is suspect. This is the first time in almost 6 months that we considered buying water instead of treating it by using our SteriPen. Every time I see a large body of fresh water, I feel an impulse to swim in it. Now every time I see water I shudder. Our moral is taking a beating and we’re only two days in.

Cher had a melt down from the constant heavy traffic, and claimed she couldn’t do this anymore. Feeling that no matter how unpleasant it is we should stick it out, I made a deal that we would make sure to have short days and I wouldn’t object over the cost of hotels. We’ve read that the roads on the interior are better so we are holding onto the hope of reaching Tegal and heading into the hills. Cher who detest hills, would rather have long climbs than non-stop broken roads, traffic and pollution.