Racist and Moronic Millenials – Kentucky Fried Brains?

I took a walk through my housing complex to get some gado2 yesterday.

The vendor is a friendly guy and often chats while preparing my heaping helping of the spicy Indonesian salad dish.

===

=

With all that nice rice, it fills you up and tastes good too. It costs me a dollar -Rp.10,000 – so a good deal in every sense.

I’d be most upset if he turned round and told me that because of my mildly tanned white skin I’d have to pay more than his local customers.

The idea of different prices for different races, colours or creeds is mean, and mindless.

NOT IN KENTUCKY, FOLKS!

Western Kentucky University students vote to give blacks free tuition

These moronic millenials are clearly too stupid to benefit from higher education…

==

===

…and should be kicked out, making way for those who might.

Read the story for yourselves and let me know if you agree!

 

‘The Emotional Levers That Led To The Brexit Vote…!’

How’s this for a ripping yarn?

The book moves between privileged middle classes and migrant workers on zero-hours contracts in a pie factory. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/jan/09/vanguard-of-brexit-fiction-set-to-appear-in-2017-mark-billingham

—-

—-

The novel highlights the emotional levers that led to the Brexit vote.  

Bound to be a page-turner, yeah?

Not only ‘a pie factory’ but elements of chilling horror – a metropolitan couple forced to downsize to Devon because they cannot afford to divorce.

Aaaargh!

—

00000000000000

I read a lot, either out front on Jakarta’s sunny mornings, or, almost as much, on my frequent bus journeys around the city.

Since Lotte Mart (a hypermarket chain here, with branches all over town) started selling imported paperbacks at excellent discount prices ( Rp.30 -45,000 – that’s between three and five dollars), I’ve mined that source many times.

My last foray into their branch in posh Kuningan ended with me taking home no less than four books, including a genuinely rivetting detective story by Scotland’s Ian Rankin about high-level corruption by the big business/political elite…

……….

………

…and three more.

Today, unusually, I have nothing to do and all day to do it, so I am hoping the sun comes out soon, so I can resume my relentless quest for an impressive tan to show off when I go abroad next month.

I’ve finished the Rankin book and moved onto another.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

• 
• oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• A brief outing to find the tukang gado2 is also on my agenda. gado-gado-indonesian-vegetable-salad-with-peanut-dressing – Saveur

• ————–

• Anything,  I confess, to get away from the TV, where CNN is currently blatting out the imminent joys of Obummer’s farewell – which is being touted as akin to The Sermon On The Mount.

• ………………..

• 
• ——-

• But that Guardian article has me smiling through my third kopi hitam.

• The other ‘Brexit fiction‘ reviewed – the phrase truly evokes Cast-Iron Cameron’s Project Fear…

………

——

…might be more fun, or at least funnier…

It’s about a ‘populist power grab!‘

Douglas Board’s political thriller Time of Lies.

Wot, MORE about the Remain campaign? No…

Set against the 2020 general election, a monstrous rightwing demagogue with a hardcore following of violent young thugs stages an anti-elite coup to win.

Duh, that would be…who?

———-

Not bloody likely!

 

.

God Bless The Gado2 Man!

Aaaah, here’s me, having planned a fairly purposeless gallivant today, maybe into town to exchange a pile of paperbacks at Ning’s Second-Hand Store, when…

———-

————-

Whoosh!

The rainy season makes its unwelcome appearance.

It’s been on the cards for a while, October as a rule, and now November’s here, bound to arrive.

So with puddles already forming in the street outside, postponement of my literary joint became the wisest course of action.

But food?

• 

• I have bacon and eggs in the fridge, but if I summoned enough energy to cook it, what would tomorrow’s visitor do in respect of Sunday brunch?

Then hark!

The cry was ‘Gado- Gado,‘ a familiar voice, my tukang, from whom I often get my take-away goodies when passing en route for home.

• 

Not my man, but they all operate from similar carts!

• He’s often said he circulates around the komplek, but ne’er yet have I seen him save at hs regular spot.

Heedless of my unshaven, half-dressed condition, I hied myself to the fence, clapping my hands! That was not an expression of joy, though I was joyful enough, but the accepted method here for catching somebody’s attention in the street – I used to find it uncomfortably imperious, but am now used to it.

‘Hey Boss!’ Surprised to see me as I to see him, for he naturally didn’t know which street I lived in!

• 

=

‘Dua, Pak!‘ I ordered two portions, for ’twas nigh on noon and breakfast had surely to be conjoined with lunch, weekend self-indulgence an agreeable habit.

Now I relax, half my haul wolfed down, the second portion to be savoured awhile before consumption.

Then maybe a nap. Not a bad life here in Jakarta! 

 

 

Gimana Jalan Alpukat? Banyak Warung Dibongkar!

An horrific vista met my gaze last month, on my return from my overseas vacation. I had disembarked from the Busway at Grogol, so, handy for Mal Ciputra, decided to conduct a quick discount search at Hero Supermarket – no great shopping triumph, ony some fish at 50% for Ibi Cat.

………………………

• 
• ——————————

• But the proximity of that delightul alley, the one that runs from the main road there all the way to Jalan Tanjung Duren Barat, tempted me to go in search of victuals. There’s a guy does great fried  gorengan for just Rp.1000 each, and a cute tukang gado2, whose spicy dishes made her dishy looks even more alluring!

So off I ambled, turned the corner and ..

ZAP!

All gone! No goreng man, no gado girl, no friendly young fellow that sells good DVDs, no tukang ramput that trims my few locks of hair for Rp.10,000.

DIBONGKAR!

Demolished, driven away, not a trace left save for some bits of wood and even that, some of it, was burning, smoke listlessly rising from the ashes.

===========================

• 
• ===========================

• Who the heck would engage in such an act?

It’s not like they could build a mall on the site. It’s sandwiched between Tarumanegara University and a fancy housing/hotel complex, and is, after all, a public, though narrow, thoroughfare.

In near-shock, I wandered down past where all those nice people and places had once been, to where the angkot drivers idle.

They at least were still there, so I asked.

‘Oh, tidying up, Mister,” came the reply.

‘WHAT THE HELL NEEDED TIDYING?’ l felt like roaring.

But I merely commented that I had rather liked it the way it was, busy, noisy, friendly and a boon to the hundreds, thousands, probably, of folks who ate there and availed themselves of all the other services on offer. It had been a thriving little commercial hub, affording a livelihood to many, plus culinary, and other, advantages, to many more.

=========

. 

That’s the street, in the bottom right hand corner of the map, just south of the bridge running across the toll road, appears to be called Jalan Alpukat, though I never even knew its name

=======

Many of you must know where I’m talking about. Alas, though I went there often, I never thought to get a photo.

As Joni Mitchell sang, ‘You don’t know what you got till it’s gone!’

So I investigated, and here seems to be the link to the mystery. 

http://poskotanews.com/2015/09/22/biang-macet-seratus-bangunan-liar-dibongkar/

Meanwhile, demolition on Jl Tanjung Duren Utara also running smoothly, because most owners just had to dismantle their own stalls. The buildings standing on the edge of the road were very disturbing to the flow of traffic and caused traffic jams.

“Control is to restore the function of the road, so it does not create a traffic jam…” .

 

For pity’s sakes. Why not make it a pedestrian precinct?

Everybody liked it – it’s just a narrow little street, an alley, really, and when I went back yesterday, cutting through to Citraland, there was hardly anyone using it for vehicular purposes.

Where have all those vendors gone, who provided great service and earned a modest income by doing so?

If anyone spots a pretty gado2 lady, with pink tattoos on her slim forearms, please notify me.

Lazy Sunny Saturday – Sorting Out Photo Files – Aurat!

It’s such a lovely day here in Jakarta, and I am too indolent to go anywhere, apart from a brief trek earlier, after my very welcome visitor left to go to work. 

I was at a rather fine little party on Thursday evening and remain weary, so my twenty minute outing comprised only Indomart, for cigarettes, and a nice late lunch of gado-gado on the way home.

00000000

ooooooooo

You can look up the recipe yourselves, but I got mine from the vendor on the street for just Rp.10,000, about a dollar, I suppose.

So having deemed it fair to show you what that dish looks like…

ooooooooooooo

 Wichita Satari

000000000

 Tera Young

==================

• To make myself feel industrious, I decided to go through my old photo files, and erase those I’ll never need again.

However, as a public-spirited fellow, it seemed churlish not to share some of the best once more.

I can’t even recall when I used them to illustrate an RRA post, but Tera and Wichita could not be consigned to the bin. Hence an arvo treat for any readers who drop by!

 

PS for non-Indonesians, aurat is the word translated by Google usually as ‘private parts.’ It’s used by sectarian uptights here to refer to such pleasant things as thighs and cleavage, which of course are ‘private parts’ only in the most benighted minds.