Governors, Alarms, and Sexy Head-Shrouders
Readership is growing apace, not just in numbers but in geographical terms, as this snap of last week’s coverage indicates. Non-grey areas are those where people read RRA!
Thankfully, the Jakarta gubernatorial election meant a public holiday on the 11th.
- Jokowi and Ahok have done well. I emdorsed nobody, since foreign intervention can have a counter-productive impact, but like many Jakartans, there was a definite urge on RRA to see the back of Fauzi Bowo, not least due to his foolish readiness to take tea with Islamonazi thugs instead of condemning them whole-heartedly.
Latest figures say Jokowi should have around 42% in this round, with F. Bowo about 10% behind him. The fanatic PKS man, Hidayat, was third with 11%.
But since nobody’s got an overall majority, there’s a run-off due! Fingers crossed!
It’s been, as predicted, a gruelling week, rising at 5am for an extra class i agreed to take.
Monday I managed quite well, the unwonted experience of easy traffic and cool morning sunshine made even more fun (!) by my four mugs of kopi jawa, but Tuesday…?
Aduh! The alarm didn’t ring! I therefore woke to the sounds of a typical ‘mid-morning’ – street vendors proclaiming their wares, etc. – 6.45am. Leapt out of bed, bounced blindly about, no time for essential coffees, rough n ready shave, then zoomed out, to the nearby corner where the ojeks lurk. These motor-bike taxis are a Godsend in an emergency, and they know it.
The guy sees me sauntering by most days around 11am, aiming for the Rp.2500 microlet minibus, and having sussed I was therefore in desperation mode on Tuesday, quoted me Rp,50,000 to speed me to downtown Senayan.
Of course there was no point in bargaining, so off we went, and he delivered me to my destination bang on time, so I had no problems paying him the agreed fee.
But a start like that does little for one’s psychological well-being for the remainder of the 12 hour working day, my sole consolation being I’d only undertaken these morning classes temporarily!
Awaiting further election results, there was considerable channel-surfing going on, and my co-watcher spotted a celebrity in a jilbab.
“Hey, she was there at the De Hooi free beer night!”
“Dressed like that?” I asked, surprised.
“No, she was all sexy, wearing a miniskirt! You must have noticed her!”
And I usually do, but that party night virtually all the girls were dressed like girls, not a bag-head to be seen, so I didn’t recall this particular one.
Public image, personal reality. A pity she feels coerced into shariah mode for her TV appearances. The more that famous people publicly abhor the dreary garb of subjugation, the more rank-and-file Jakarta girls will show the same spirit and thwart the malign forces at work here.
Thursday night, tonight, after a long day, a pool party lies in store, and a good thing too.