Thursday 28th February

Yana and I are to catch the night bus to Sydney this evening. This arrangement at least gives us another day to wander around the streets and beaches of Byron. Sammie has to go to university today so we will be on our own. It will be no hardship to amuse ourselves. The town is interesting and there are a lot of people to look at as well.

Sleeping on the bus will probably not be comfortable but it does solve our accommodation problems. Yana and I really miss the wonderful super executive buses that are to be found in Indonesia. Even in a normal bus there you could sit either up the very front or at the very back and you would get a bit of extra legroom. Not here. All the seats are exactly the same. The food sellers are conspicious by their absence. Still I am not really missing Indonesia much yet. I am actually the enjoying the cleanliness and good food. The cost of everything is a little bit worrying though.

A day in Sydney should be interesting. We will catch the bus again in the evening but will be arriving around six in the morning. I am sure that we will have more than enough time to go for a ride on the ferry, check out the opera house and do a few other unmissable things. I wonder what Yana will think of Sydney.

Wednesday 27th February

A beautiful day. Sammie came early and we drove to near the lighthouse which is located at the most easterly spot of Australia. This is where thousands gathered to welcome the new millenium, being the first bit of earth to feel the sun's rays. We parked the car and climbed the hill. It was a step slope but the views were stupendous so it was well worth it. We spotted dolphins and could see clear, blue water all around. I worked up a good sweat.

Around midday after a nice lunch ... kebabs again ...we relaxed. Sammie had to work a lunch shift but after she was done we went to Broken Head and swam while she surfed. The water was a perfect temperature although there was quite a strong rip. I was a bit anxious about going in too deep. It had been such a long time since I had last swum in the sea. I relished the opportunity. I also felt amazed that I was feeling so good. Just a week ago in Jakarta I had been feeling really sick. I was sure that my future was not looking so bright. Yet here I was feeling quite sprightly and enjoying the sea. Isn't life wonderful!

It is great having Yana with me. We have to work out someway for him to stay. Perhaps we need to consult an immigration lawyer. Yana is just bowled over by the beauty of eveything that he has seen. The cleanliness has caught his eye too. He has even picked up the habit of taking his rubbish to the bin. He laughed when he recalled how Indonesians would go on picnics to a lovely place, finish their food, stand up and then walk away leaving their rubbish behind them. It has given him a totally different perspective. People make a place clean. Everyone has to work together.

After the swim Sammie and I went in to a shop to buy some juicy grapes. I turned around to see where Yana had got to and saw that he was talking to an Indonesian. They seemed to have spotted each other without too much difficulty. I thought that we had encountered Indonesians before but he was always able to identify them as Japanese, or South Americans or from elsewhere.

Tuesday 26th February

We intended to make an early start but were very slow getting started. It didn't matter really. I felt OK. The drug was a new one so I didn't know quite what to expect. Anyhow so far so good. We caught the train to Roma street and bought a bus ticket that would take us all the way to Melbourne but with a few stoppoffs. Just what we wanted. We also booked the boat trip on the Spirit of Tasmania. It felt good to have all that organised so that we didn't have to worry about last minute hiccups.

The bus to Byron Bay left at one o'clock. The drive to the Gold Coast is very boring so I slept for that leg. The Gold Coast doesn't do a lot for me but I thought that Yana should at least have a bit of a peak. Not that you can see a real lot from a bus window. It is really one long streak of commercialism. One day there is more than enough. How people can amuse themselves there for any longer I can't work out. Still everyone is different. Some most love it because there are thousands of apartments to be seen. They can't all be empty.

Once you get into northern New South Wales the scenery changes. It is much greener, more hilly and much more attractive. Yana felt that it looked a bit like the area around Cianjur. He was right. It did. Perhaps I could learn to love Australia. I wil have to try harder. Byron was not so far away. It is a lovely pace. Yana was impressed. He looked around with a big grin on his face. It has the atmosphere of Kuta but is unique.

Sammie had found a lovely bed and breakfast place for us to stay in. The owner was a charminh lady who had travelled widely and lived all over the world. She spoke a bit of Indonesian and practised it enthusiastically. We were shown all her Indonesian souvenirs which included lots of wooden doors and windows. She had even made an Balinese garden. What a great spot. We were wrapped.

Monday 25th February

I traipsed up the all too familiar route to the Mater Hospital in Brisbane today. It is an open, hot and exposed area and the shops in the area seem to be dying if not already empty. A shame really. I had to wait some time and there was a scary moment where I thought that I may have to come back in a few days. My concoction was not ready. But it all did pan out in the end. The little bag of orange liquid which was infused into me cost $3000. Yana could have bought a very nice motorcross bike for the same amount. I almost felt quite guilty that the taxpayers of this country are spending a lot of money on me to keep me alive. I hope that I am worth it.

There was a young girl sitting opposite me who was no more than sixteen years old. What an awful sickness to face at that age. She seemed bright and didn't look at all unwell. I hope that her cancer is beatable. Beside me was a young fellow who may have been twenty if he was lucky. He was sitting very quietly with his father. There seemed to be many embarrassed silences. It must be awful for a parent to have to watch their child go through with it all. You would probably give anything to change places. These young people should have their whole lives ahead of them. It doesn't seem right or fair.

The chemotherapy didn't take long and so we were soon on our way back to Manly. I felt fine and was ravenous. In fact Yana and I have done an awful lot of eating since we have arrived here. I seem to be perpetually hungry. We have become rather fond of kebabs as they seem to be reasonably priced. Many other meals are very pricey. We also did quite a lot of our own cooking while we were staying in the backpackers hostel. The kitchen facilities are great and it gives you a bit of freedom.

Yana and I are enjoying the backpacker place. The location is perfect. At the weekend there is music from the pub over the road. In the afternoons we can listen to the folk music while lying in the comfort of our own dormitory bed. There are lots of nice interesting people to talk to and plenty of useful stuff to pick up. You always learn something new.

Update on first week in Australia

I haven't been able to update my page regularly. It just wasn't possible. All is well though. Yana was allowed to enter Australia although the immigration people grilled him and then looked very closely at his visa with a special eye glass. I was glad that I was there to stick my big nose in as I think it made a difference. I had been told stories about people actually making it to Australia only to be sent straight back again. I wasn't prepared to have that happen.

Yana and I spent a few days with my brother and then we moved into the Backpacker's hostel at Manly. It is a lovely area, has a nice atmosphere and I have been able to meet up with many old friends. We have visited the hospital far too regularly for my liking but I will say that since my abdomen was drained I have had a new lease of life. On Monday I will have my first course of chemo. Then we will head south by bus. Our ultimate destination will be Tasmania.

Yana likes Australia although it is unfair for he probably won't be able to stay. He may look but he must not touch. Very frustrating. We have visted China town, explored the city a bit and have done masses of walking. It has been hot but a lot of fun. Yana has made lots of observations and comments that I will try to record later. It must be a hell of an experience of him.

Friday 15th February

We had been told to come back to the Australia embassy on friday morning. Yana had returned from Bandung late the night before and we caught a taxi along the all too familiar route. There was quite a queue and absolutely nowhere to sit. I knew I couldn't stand so I went into Dunkin Doughnuts for a cup of tea. I reasoned that Yana would just be about to go through the bag and body search when I returned. I must have mistimed it because he was not to be seen. I joined the end of the much shorter queue. When it came to my turn they asked for my collection form. I explained that my husband had it and had already entered. They looked at me and then said that I couldn't go in. I couldn't believe it. These guys were quite officious. Only a few days before I had been relieved of my nail clippers. Had they really thought that I could attack someone with such an instrument? I argued. I couldn't wait outside. There was no where to sit. I felt quite ill. Fortunately then one of the other guards remembered me and Yana. He took over and gave me permission to enter. The incident struck me as a bad omen.

Inside Yana and I waited on some more excrutiatingly uncomfortable chairs. I suppose there must be a huge demand for bad seating. There are always places of service where patronage is to be discouraged if at all possible. Eventually his name was called. I didn't know what to expect. Would there be a rejection and more upset. Or for once would things go our way. Yana opened his passport and smiled. It contained a tourist visa for Australia. Well, well. I was surprised and then very relieved. I really didn't have enough energy to fight much longer.

We then headed to the travel agent located in the lobby of the Hotel Indonesia. A historic spot. A great deal of Christopher Koch's novel 'A year of living dangerously' is spent in this hotel. Riots and demonstrations regularly take place around the water fountain in the middle of the road just outside. It is a favourite spot of mine. There were no planes for Saturday night but two seats were secured for the Sunday night flight. So we would fly into Bisbane on Monday morning.

I hadn't been looking forward to going to Australia but now that I knew Yana would be with me it would be different. It could actually be a lot of fun. Meanwhile he, poor fellow, had gone back to Bandung one more time, just to shut up the house. I imagine that he felt that it would be pre-empting fate to have done so on his last visit. So just one last long road trip. I must tell him that the stateowned toll company are going to issue some bonds to raise finance for a new road between Cikampek and Bandung. The article said that the road trip between Jakarta and Bandung would one day take only two hours. Now that is something to look forward to. We may have to wait a while I suspect.

Thursday 14th February

I have been feeling quite weak and so have hardly ventured out of the house. I did make a foray to the the big cancer hospital in Slipi but found it to be a frustrating and nonproductive exercise. Waiting seems to be an expected part of life in Indonesia for lesser mortals. I would seem to fit into this category and have certainly done more than my share of late. I had been told that the clinic opened at eight and I arrived just slightly before. This was no mean feat as it was raining very heavily and I had almost despaired of getting a taxi. There were traffic jams everywhere and progress was slow. Nonetheless luck was with me. I put my name down and was told that I would have to wait till ten until the doctor arived. Why did people have to come so early if this was the case?

I waited patiently till well after ten o'clock but the doctor still hadn't come. I was in quite some pain and found it impossible to sit. The seats were very poorly designed and were totally lacking in any positive ergodynamic features. I asked the nurse if I could lie down and was shown to a bed in a rather grubby reception room. I tried to relax but with little success. I realise that Indonesian doctors are paid very little for their public duties and hence don't take them all that seriously but it doesn't make the tardiness right. After twelve I went back to the nurses and said that I really needed some help. They said that the doctor still hadn't arrived and asked me to sit down again. By this stage I had lost all my good manners. I was in tears and said quite rudely that I had already been sitting for four hours.

Fortunately for me, and the nurses too, the doctor soon arrived. I realise that Indonesians are not so overtly emotional and would not behave so badly in a public place but I had had enough. I was beyond worrying about the impression I was conveying. Had Yana been there it could have been different but he was sorting out some loose ends in Bandung. I had just coped the best I could. The doctor was a bit of a stickler for following correct procedures. I had been through all this so many times that I knew exactly what the problem was. I just wanted my abdomen drained. He wanted to check my condition with an ultrasound first. I was dispatched to the basement and another long wait. The hospital was quite a big one but was actually very empty. There were huge empty spaces and very few people around. Odd really.

The ultrasound confirmed what I had known all along. I was carrying around a few extra litres of liquid. I met with the doctor again and he said come back tomorrow. I had made my mind up by that point that I would not return if I was told something to that effect. The wheels here were grinding far too slowly. He then went on to say that I would need to book in for three days as they do the procedure in a stage by stage manner. In Brisbane the draining is done at the outpatients department. Australia was looking better all the time.

Wednesday 13th February

It has rained very heavily in Jakarta over the last twentyfour hours. I haven't heard of any more flooding news but it wouldn't surprise me if the troubles and suffering are continuing. Perhaps it has become so normal and usual that it is no longer being reported. I am presently staying in a nice, peaceful part of the city. It is like a kampung (village) and the homes are quite modest. People have planted a small tree or two in their front gardens and collect other plants in pots. It is all so homely, comfortable and unhurried. Vegetable sellers push their trolleys along the street and other traders ply their trade as well. I am more than happy to stay here for a while.

In the distance I can see a number of very tall buildings on the city's skyline. I have no idea as to their names but am trying to etch their profiles into my memory. Jakarta is quite an impressive city even though it seems to have no apparent centre. It is just one huge big metropolis that goes on and on. To get about I have had to use a taxi. The distances are rarely small. There is plenty of public transport but it looks very crowded and far too unsafe. In today's Kompas newspaper there was a whole story about robberies at knife point on public transport. I just don't want to put myself anyway near the possibilty of such a happening.

Westerners are very obvious and I am more obvious than most. We are still considered to be rich even though a good proportion of the Indonesian population have such abundant assets that I am a pauper in comparison. Even the vegetable trader this morning thought that I needed to be fleeced. Admittedly it was probably my fault as I wasn't prepared to haggle and argue over every single bean . The people in my local market are quite reasonable and I am usually treated fairly. I am probably ripped off a bit but there is no outright extortion. Today I was caught unawares. I will be more prepared next time.

Perhaps I shouldn't be out buying vegetables anyway. I know that Yana prefers to go to markets without me, saying that I affect the prices he has to pay. Even when he is on his own he has to pay more than an older person or a 'real' local. He often used to send his mother out to get some fruit at the market near his home. I felt that he was being a bit lazy and queried him about it. He then explained that his mother got the best prices! Not necessarily due to her bargaining skills either. It was just that she stood at the bottom of the pyramid. Yana was half way up and I am on the apex.

Tuesday 12th February

Yana and I caught a taxi to the station. It was peak hour traffic and the car was old, bruised and battered. We moved slowly but we seemed to have ample time so we didn't panic. Even when we had a flat tyre it seemed to be OK. There was still sufficient time. I was just absolutely horrified at the baldness of the both the flat tyre and then the replacement one as well. I told Yana that cars were pulled off the road for such infringements. He looked amazed. I am now wondering if I will need to do a tyre check of every car I enter from now on. Certainly with the wet weather of late!

At the station we were greeted with the news that the train was cancelled. Another adventure was beginning! Apparently the track at Sukatani was unsafe. That didn't surprise me one bit, hadn't I commented as much last week. It must have been a last minute cancellation though because Yana had only bought the tickets a few hours previously. So after receiving our refund we caught another taxi and went down to the bus station. I had completely forgotten about tyres by this stage. Fortunately as we arrived at Leuwipanjang a nice newish executive coach was almost ready for departure.

The journey was comfortable. I didn't worry about the constant overtaking into the face of oncoming traffic. You get quite used to it. Pillows were provided and I just wanted to sleep. We went over the Puncak, or peak route and there seemed to be no problems with the road. We stopped at a reasonably clean restaurant and I actually felt like eating some of the food. The bus on the previous two trips had stopped at a revolting filthy Padang restaurant both times. The food looked inedible, the walls were caked in grime and the floors had been covered with water brought in from the rain outside. I can't imagine, even in my most lucid moments how walls can get so dirty. Then we passed some of the lovely villas and housing estates that are contributing to Jakarta's flooding problems. A lot of Jakartans must have a lot of money as many are quite palatial.

The bus stopped at a remote place with the charming name of Kampung Rambutan. Why the bus claims to go to Jakarta but stops well short of it I have no idea. We then had to catch a taxi to my friend's house near Semanggi. It was around eleven when we arrived. I suppose it could have been a lot worse. I knew one thing. I had had enough of this toing and froing. I just wanted to stay put for a few days. The blood test results were OK and I didn't need to panic. I wasn't going to go anywhere till the weekend.

Monday 11th February

This evening we intend to go to Jakarta. I am very tired now and feel a bit dispossessed. Perhaps it is a good way to feel. It is probably protecting me from feeling sad or distressed at having to leave. Yana and I whizzed about the city this morning as we had a number of errands to run but I couldn't really relate to the fact that I wouldn't be back for a while. There is even a chance that I may never come back. I just couldn't take in the sights, sounds and smells. I seem to be operating on automatic pilot.

Jakarta is contending with floods again. Many people had cleaned their houses and had moved back in only to find that they were forced to move out again the following day. I can imagine their despair. Other people talked of having lost everything, particularly the tools of their trade and so they now find themselves in the position where they can't work anymore. Many food stall operators have lost their pans and stoves. They don't even have the capital to go out and replace what they have lost. As a result, many people are now directing traffic or helping with parking as this work doesn't require equipment. Still, I imagine that the city can only absorb a certain number of people in this capacity. For a moment there I had a vision of thousands of people at every corner all helping with the traffic. It would be a sight!

It would appear that most Jakartans who wanted to help with the recent floods decided to do so directly and not through government organisations or city authorities. A very interesting state of affairs. I wonder if some people are squirming with embarassment as a result. For far too long many priviledged people have helped themselves to things that they have absolutely no right to. It is about time something happened. As it is apparently very difficult to stop the practice, then the only other option is to circumvent it.

Many people say that Jakarta is a cold heartless city but the recent floods have proved this to be wrong. Communities have banded together and thousands have done their bit to help. People have cooked meals, bought extra supplies and collected clothing and blankets. One journalist commented that Jakarta still had the spirit of a kampung or village. Encouraging.

Sunday 10th February

I walked up to my local market near the Secapa army base this morning. It could well be for the last time. I noticed with interest that the little open booths have now been fully enclosed. The roof has been covered but as it is probably only about six feet from the ground I have to lower my head as I walk around. A rather nasty halfpipe, to take rainwater from the roof, protudes at my eyelevel at the entrance. It has been completely transformed into a poky, cramped little warren. The wood is the cheap stuff that is used for packing cases in Australia and the carpentry is very shoddy. I didn't know that markets looked like this when they were new. I have seen many old markets and have been very reluctant to enter at times but thought that it was their vintage that made them so decrepit. Now I have realised that there is a distinct building style in this country that I will now call 'market architecture'.

I have had some wonderful support from many close friends over the last few days and have finally come up with a plan of action for the next few days. I will pack up my few belongings today and set about to organise my affairs here in Bandung as much as I can. Tomorrow evening Yana and I will go to Jakarta again. I hope that the trip will be uneventful. We will try to clarify some matters at the embassy on Tuesday and try to plead our case. I really would like Yana to be with me when I leave for Australia. If my stomach becomes unbearable I could go to the cancer hospital in the capital or alternatively I could catch the next plane to Brisbane. If a miracle occurs, and it certainly seems to be taking its time, I could always return to Bandung.

On my travels around Bandung yesterday I noticed more changes. Steel railing fences have been erected at the edge of many pavements so that there is now insufficient room for stalls and street vendors. The city is apparently serious about its desire to clean up its image. I just wonder about all the traders. Where have they gone? Further up a sidestreet from jl. Juanda all the lovely old mature trees lining a river/canal have been cut down. I had a frighteningly clear view way into a distance that I had never had the misfortune to see before. Was it really necessary to remove the trees to make way for the new road? Are they going to remove the river too? If not, then they surely could have left the trees. They gain only centimetres by removing them.

One thing stays the same. The little, dirty, raggedy urchins were still on the road edge near the Bandung Indah Plaza Shopping centre. One poor undernourished creature was sleeping soundly. If I didn't have a few other things on my plate at present I would set about to do something. It makes me very angry. Normal young children are lively and inquisitive. These children are not. I wonder whether there are institutions like social welfare here. If not, perhaps their parents would agree to sell them. I suspect that is all they see in their children ... money.

Saturday 9th February

A beautiful, quiet Saturday morning in Bandung. I read the newspapers, near an open window, with the sounds of numerous chickens outside. They roam everywhere around my house and in the surrounding streets. There is always a hen and a brood of chicks to be found scuttering about somewhere. Others enjoy dustbaths or stand, beady eyed, observing the neighbourhood. The cats leave them alone and so does the odd mangy dog that lives in the area. I doubt whether self respecting cats and dogs in Australia would be so obliging.

The newspapers had a number of reports on the John Howard visit. I am not his biggest fan and wasn't overly interested. Nonetheless, he does seem to have aquitted himself well despite being given the cold shoulder by a number of local politicians who are trying to gain points from Indonesian voters. Amien Rais, a man who I once admired greatly, was one of those who refused to meet with Howard. Rais is a bit of a disappointment these days. He is only interested in promoting his own cause. He was out there helping flood victims recently, but wearing a t-shirt promoting his PAN party. He wasn't alone though. Apparently there were quite a few big names who used the recent disaster to raise the profile of their respective political parties.

The villas that the rich have built in the cool mountains near Bogor are getting a bit of press. Vital catchment areas and forests were destroyed in their construction. The original Dutch plan for the whole area had identified these slopes as vital to Jakarta's well being. This was actually known more than fifty years ago! As recently as 1995 the zoning of many 'green'areas had been changed. Building then took place. There is now an outcry demanding that the building of all housing estates should be halted and the infringement of zoning area restrictions be closely investigated.

Governor of Jakarta, Sutiyoso, the man who refused to step down depite the recent chaos in the city, has also impeded the attempts to bring the building to a stop. He cites that massive unemployement would result. He may be right, but the real reason I suspect is that his influential mates, these same developers, are breathing down his neck. Or perhaps they are offering him further inducements?

Friday 8th February

My birthday. I had been looking forward to this day for some time, as it was a milestone, a point that I had not really been expected to reach. Unfortunately further complications with Yana's visa completely spoilt the day for me. I feel that I must have done some horrific things in my past life to merit the situations that I am encountering now. Yet when I read of the exploits of those in the newspapers I become confused. I haven't embezzled money from anyone recently, arranged someone's murder or trampled over other people's rights. I will keep trying to smile but it takes some doing.

I am taking things day by day. I want to be in Indonesia, it is here that I feel happy. I have no desire to be in Australia and certainly not on my own. I coped bravely for eight months last year, in the great southern land, and put in a sterling effort, but vowed I would not go through a repeat performance. Am I now expected to go through the frightful treatment again and then do so on my own, to boot!!! My only salvation is a miracle from Pak Haji Hariyono. I don't know what my reaction will be if confronted with concrete evidence that he offers nothing but an elaborate, expensive hoax.

Meanwhile life goes on. I read with interest that fish are dying in the huge Cirata dam that we passed on Wednesday on our scenic detour through the west Javanese countryside. Another article highlighted the fact that Batam is apparently not the quiet little spot that I had taken it for. People come from all over Indonesia to find work there. Tensions apparently build up regularly and individuals actually end up being killed. Javanese ojek drivers went beserk recently over the continous extortion they experience at the hands of local hoodlums. Minangkabau taxidrivers clashed violently with unlicensed passenger minivan drivers. A group of people from Flores assaulted a band of Batak hoodlums, the list goes on. It must be very hard to encourage foreign investment with this type of instability occurring all around.

I suppose the tension doesn't surprise me. The taxidriver I had spoken to when I was there had told me that he had just paid over twenty million rupiah for the right to operate his taxi on the lucrative airport to harbour run. Once someone is 'in' they will be very comfortable from then on. They receive fifty thousand rupiah for the long Sekupang-airport trip and sixty thousand for the shorter Batu Ampar route. I know because I thought that I would return the shorter way thinking that it would save me a little money. Silly me. I forgot that things are neither logical or consistent in this wonderful country. It gave me a good laugh, though.

Thursday 7th February

Jakarta was trying to recover from the floods. Rain still fell heavily at times and I felt for those who were watching every drop with anxiety. The rainy season actually continues till march or April, so the end is not even in sight. I can understand the reluctance of some people to fully clean their houses when there could be another deluge shortly. What a position to be in. At least it wasn't just the poor that were being inconvenienced. A number of well healed areas had also been inundated. Perhaps these people will complain and their voices would be listened to. Nobody wants to listen to the really poor.

The Manggarai flood gate was built some years ago to protect the elite areas around Menteng. Last week as the surrounding poorer areas were being flooded at the expense of the more affluent areas, the frustrated residents started to clamour for the opening of the gate. The authorities tried to hold out. Money seemed to be able to buy protection. The masses became very angry and threatened to run amok. Eventually a compromise was reached and the gate was lowered a very small amount. Considerable flooding in Menteng resulted.

Those who could afford to do so, moved into hotels while the flood was at its worst. Some hotels enjoyed 100% occupancy for the first time in ages. There were stories of other hotels allowing local residents, who were flooded out, to camp in their grounds. Meals were also provided. It was nice to hear that many were not totally preoccupied with profits.

Yana and I did not want to stay in Jakarta for long. We had had a big week and longed for our home and the familiar surroundings of Bandung. We headed off to Gambir station, although it was a toss up as to which was better, bus or train. We were confronted with a three hour wait. This in itself is not a problem but as the ticket window doesn't open till an hour before departure it means that you virtually have to spend the full time queueing. If you don't queue and come later there may be no tickets left. I felt overwhelmed by a feeling of exhaustion. Nothing is ever easy in Indonesia. One of the scalpers who was trying to sell us tickets at a much higher price did mention that the Argo Gede train would be leaving in half an hour. This is a luxury train, well luxurious for Indonesia, anyway, and is quite expensive. Yana and I twifled. I had always been curious as to what it would be like so in the end we went for it. We felt that we had earned it.

The train was comfortable, almost clean and offered a lot of leg room which is always a bonus for people like me. There were a few dicey moments where it slowed down, leant at an awful angle and the rails made a frightful screaming sound. This was apparently the area that had suffered the landslide last week. The rails had been moved to a supposedly more suitable spot but were obviously not fully settled yet. I wonder whether it really was safe!

Wednesday 6th February

It was necessary for me to return to the paranormal healer to be checked. Yana said that it only took three hours to travel between Bandung and Bekasi so we planned our day accordingly and headed off to the bus depot at around eleven. I should have known better. If conditions are perfect then it could take three hours, but when are road conditions ever perfect in Indonesia? It took an hour for the bus to fill and then we headed off to the highway. After an hour, near where the train had been held up the week before, we had to take a long scenic detour via a very narrow windy road past the Cirata dam. A container truck had rolled and the main road was blocked.

Once we were back on the main road it started to rain very heavily. This slowed traffic down considerably. I wasn't overly concerned until the traffic came to a virtual standstill. A traffic jam! Of course, why not. We were still only in Purwakarta, which is only a hop and a skip from Bandung! It had taken us hours to get nowhere. These simple Bandung to Bekasi/Jakarta trips were starting to take on epic proportions. I can't imagine what travelling in remote corners of Indonesia must be like these days.

Ustadz Hariyono, the healer, met me at his rooms and said that I was now fully healed. I queried him about my bloated belly and he touched the offending part, said a few words, and then prodded away at it for a minute or so. He said that it will be OK now. Unfortunately, twentyfour hours later it is still a problem, and is actually becoming progressively more uncomfortable. I admired the man's optimism and still wonder whether a miracle has really happened, it is just that I don't know about it yet. A new lease of life would be a dream come true.

While I was waiting to meet with the healer, I became a film star for a few minutes. This was a little unexpected to say the least. I didn't even have a chance to comb my hair or wash my face. I must have looked ravishing after my seven hour bus journey. TVRI television station was interviewing Ustadz Hariyono for their Profiles programme and they must have thought that a few words from a patient and a westerner at that, would have offered an interesting angle. They asked me why I was trying something alternative as opposed to following the usual medical practices. I answered as best I could in Indonesian. Basically I have to try everything I can. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Tuesday 5th February

I was cured yesterday! Cured? If it was only that simple. It is not that I am sceptical because I am not. I am really holding out for a miracle. Anything so I don't have to go through the treatment that lies ahead for me in Australia. Anyhow let's get down to the details. Yana and I arrived in Bekasi just before midday and headed straight to the mosque in which Ustadz Hariyono is based. We hadn't organised the money before hand and then after having announced our presence we went in search of a bank. This proved very difficult. The banks were all full to overflowing with queues of humanity and nobody was prepared to look at my visa card. Taking small amounts consecutively from ATMs ends up being very expensive and some have limits to how much they allow out on one occasion. We returned to the healer almost emptyhanded, hoping to negotiate. It appeared that money was very important if something was to happen. However Ustadz Hariyono did lend us his driver and told us of a place where money could be transferred directly into his account.

With the money part settled we just had to wait a few more hours. Fortunately there was water to drink and oranges to eat. Megawati's newly born grandchild had been in attendance earlier for a blessing and the fruit had remained from the occasion. I hadn't realised that I was in such privileged company as I had seen the party leave the rooms of the inner sanctum. Yana and I even had time for another argument, as there was something about the place that obviously didn't bring out the best in us. Eventually my moment came. I was taken into an inner room and was shown how to let myself fall backwards. I wasn't sure when I was supposed to fall but was bid to do so when the urge came. It didn't really come so I thought that I had better fall anyway. That was apparently the practice run.

For the real ceremony Yana was invited in as were about six men dressed in their prayer sarongs. They were there to help strengthen the spiritual component. The poor scungy goat that I had spotted earlier, tied to the front gate, was then brought inside and some of the carpets were rolled back, presumably to prevent soiling. A very intense prayer was said. I was asked to stand with my feet together. Behind me, the healer made funny whistling noises. I waited to be overcome by a desire to fall backwards. It didn't come. Then the healer came to me and reminded me of what I was to do. At that point I did feel like falling back and so did so. I was duly caught but this was apparently not right. We went through it all again and eventually I thought that it was probably a good moment to fall. I can't honestly say that I felt any call or force. Perhaps I wasn't spiritually hyped enough, but I certainly had tried to feel something.

That was it. It took about five minutes. I had to laugh. It was a very expensive five minutes. So much so that I am too embarrassed to say how much it all cost. I hope that there really is going to be food for the hundred people who are going to spend the next seventeen days praying for me. I would like to see the money going to a good purpose. I won't be able to see with my own eyes because I didn't have to stay on after the treatment. We were free to go. Gradually over the next days I should start to feel better as the cancer gradually leaves me and goes into the goat. The virus within me is already dead, apparently. I certainly do hope so.

Monday 4th February

As in many parts of Jakarta, the electricity was cut off in our friends' house in Pejompongan. There had already been a few deaths through electrocution and there was obvious concern about further accidents. We had candles everywhere. Fortunately we had gas for cooking. It was a little boring, but I was so exhausted by the previous few days that a bit of lying around was all I felt like doing. I didn't have worry about rushing off and updating my webjournal as I knew that I would have quite a search on my hands to find a place that was operating. During the daylight hours I had a chance to read the papers and fully gauge the impact of the floods on the capital.

It emerged that the city was at a standstill. Many people had been unable to return to their homes on Thursday and Triday. They had camped in offices, stayed with friends or slept in their cars. Many shops and businesses were closed either because they were flooded or because there was no elctricity. As for the poor, those whose riverside shanties had been overwhelmed by floodwaters, they were sheltering where they could. Some didn't even have a change of clothing. Bathing was out of the question. Toilet facilities? One daren't even ask. Bags of rice had been donated to them but what were they do without cooking facilities? Fortuntely, food kitchens had been set up in some areas and volunteers were hard at work preparing food for the masses. Help was filtering through, but it was all rather haphazard. Where were the city authorities in all of this?

Individual stories of woe were to be heard. Some were not lifethreatening but they were none the less very upsetting for those involved. One woman talked of the wedding that had had to be cancelled. The hotel was flooded and the caterers were unable to prepare the food that already been purchased. She had lost tens of millions of rupiah. She doubted that she could find more money to go through the process again. This didn't surprise me as weddings are usually very lavish and people borrow heavily to finance them. Once in a lifetime people may be able to extend themselves but they usually can't do it twice.

Many people live from day to day in Indonesia. After a few days like the ones that Jakarta experienced recently many would have to be hurting. A lot of roads are awash so the traffic light workers may have had to move locations. This would have probably caused problems with the 'old time residents' in their new locations. They may not have ben welcome. Food cart traders have been having difficulty getting a variety of fresh vegetable supplies. Prices have risen because of the scarcity of good, new produce. Were there many customers out there? There were probably hungry people around but many may not have been in a position to buy meals for a whole family twice or three times a day.

Sunday 3rd February

The Singapore trip was easy but exhausting. I flew to Batam, a small island almost within sight of the island country, caught a very expensive taxi to the harbour and then took the jetfoil. Batam is being strongly championed by Indonesia as a good location for business. It struck me as still being very empty although a lot of building was taking place. The roads were magnificent. Bandung and Jakarta don't even have a connecting two lane highway. Yet here they did, between two small towns! I suppose it is easy to have a good infrastructure when you are starting from scratch.

I always walk a lot when I am in Singapore. The city has a wonderful metropolitan train system but somehow I still end up pounding the sidewalks. I enjoyed the cleanliness and felt that I could probably cope with my forthcoming Australian trip. The chaos in Indonesia had me feel somewhat despondent. Things were a mess. The country just slid from one disaster to the next. Still I wanted to return. Batam was a bit of a buffer as it was not yet like Singapore, if it ever was to be, but was still a little more organised.

The customs man at Batam was very obliging. He didn't go to the beginning of my passport and slowly examine every page carefully as they do in Jakarta. There was no shaking of the head and no reprimands. He simply opened the book at the page where I had placed the form and immediatey stamped my entry visa. It made me wonder about the performance that people have to go through at other entry points. Was it actually written anywhere that a person was not allowed to continually enter with a tourist visa or was it a ploy to obtain bribes?

Yana was there to meet me at the airport. I had been concerned about the state of the roads, and yes they were still flooded, but larger vehicles were getting through. I had had visions of having to camp at the airport. We made our way on a sturdy Damri bus, through the murky waters, to Gambir station. After escaping the vending hordes we walked down the road a little to hail a taxi. Happily seated, a nasty character appeared at the window next to the taxi driver, manacingly demanding a thousand rupiah for his supposed services. Yana was not impressed. We had found the taxi ourselves, but the driver was suitably intimidated to pay the man himself. Welcome to Jakarta!

Saturday 2nd February

The Embassy trip was very confusing. I wasn't allowed in with Yana and he was so exhausted from the night before that he didn't seem to know what was going on. Apparently we will get a letter in a few weeks that will tell us what papers we still need to update and submit. As if we had all the time in the world on our hands! Still, there was nothing to be done about it, and we had another problem ahead of us. Jakarta was a city in flood and getting to the airport might not be easy. We decided to go to Gambir and see if we could catch the big Damri bus. Usually there are always buses waiting but not on this occasion. This was unsettling. Were the buses getting through? We didn't know. Other people were also waiting. Taxi drivers said that they could not go the direct route but could take passengers by another route. Yana and I decided to wait. We still had time on our hands.

Just at the point that we thought that we may have to consider going by taxi a bus finally pulled in. Relief! People appeared from everywhere and the bus was crammed to capacity within a minute or two. We made our way through wet streets and then came to areas that were even wetter. The canals were merged with the edges of the road. People still operated roadside stalls even though the water was up to their knees. I couldn't see them having a lot of customers. Children played in the filthy waters and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Out on the toll road the water was much deeper. Fortunately the toll road operator boxes were empty as I couldn't imagine that they would have had the hide to demand money from each vehicle under these conditions. The big bus went slowly but confidently through the waters. Kijangs and trucks coped also. At the sides of the road there were vans, jeeps and cars that had obviously encountered difficulties. Cars were really out of their depth here. We saw one taxi making its way through and then later saw another taxi stalled in deep water.

We passed submerged shanty towns on the edges of the waterways. The houses were often ragged collections of bits and pieces. Nothing met up. Even under good conditions living in such housing would be difficult. Rain would always enter in through gaps and holes. Now the water was just under roof level. Washing waved cheerfully because it couldn't be reached. The inhabitants of these homes were now apparently camping under bridges with a few of their belongings in plastic bags. I felt a little priviledged. I was high and dry. We made it to the airport in quite good time and so I had hours to wait for my flight. Better to be early than late.

Friday 1st February

The train trip between Bandung and Jakarta usually takes a little over three hours and so we expected to arrive in the capital before 10pm. Luck was not to be with us. The train was late right from the start so we enjoyed an extra hour of sitting around people watching at the station. At least it is a busy place and there was enough to keep us occupied. We finally boarded the train and found that the fan directly overhead us would not turn off. All the rain had made the night quite cool and and we didn't need cold air to be funnelled to our heads. The man seated near the switch tried to turn the knobless switch off, then Yana tried. No success. Then another passenger decided that he would give it a go. His fingers must have been the right size, or he may have had just the right technique because the fan slowly came to a stop.

We thought that we could relax and that our troubles were over. Not so. After about an hour we came to a stop. The train usually stops to allow another train to pass so this is nothing unusual. After an hour it became apparent that this was a different kind of stop. The train staff were conspiciously absent when we needed them but it eventually became known that there was a landslide. People were digging and we would just have to wait. And wait. Then we were told that we would be taken by bus to a station on the other side of the obstruction. Another wait. Change of plan. We would go to a station a little further along and then would be taken by bus to the connecting train.

We travelled for about fifteen minutes and then alighted from the train. Where were the buses? Conspicously absent. Yana cleverly found a bamboo table outside a warung and we sat in comfort while most of the other passengers stood around expectantly. After the next hour passed they too started to disperse a little. I enjoyed the night sounds of frogs from a nearby dam and was reminded of how lovely Indonesian villages are at night. Eventually, one by one, a number of very old decrepit buses that I would have normally refused to enter, arrived. Out spilled the poor souls who had left Jakarta and wanted to go to Bandung. We traded spots and were transported along the main road for a fair distance. At a station a little further along we were released and were allowed to enter the parked train. Another wait till all passengers had been transferred and then we were finally on our way.

The lights of Gambir station, in Jakarta, greeted us at three in the morning. I felt that I had travelled half way across the Indonesian archipelago and not just a few hundred kilometres ....if that. We were exhausted. Somehow the organisation of the Railway system left us very unimpressed. They seemed to have no contingency plans, nothing was ready and yet they had obviously known about the obstruction for a few hours.

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