Jakarta - Friday and Saturday

Friday morning began with a presentation to the directorate on what we have accomplished, and our architectural recommendations thus far. They received our presentation well, and gave us addtional work to focus on prior to our departure. Encouraged by the meeting, we began tackling some of the more complex issues and finalized our plan for the rest of the trip.

Friday evening, after most of the crew had resigned to bed, myself and one of the guys from New Orleans went to the Mystere nightclub in the hotel because I needed dinner. The others had all eaten at the club level, but they had only served fish and poultry dishes, so I needed to go elsewhere. Entrance to the club is free for hotel guests, and non-guests pay a nominal fee.

As one would expect for a bar/nightclub, the menu options weren't that great, but I was able to get a fairly decent burger. The nightclub's band - System of Sound (SOS) - played a set while I was eating. Surprisingly, they were extremely good. They performed covers of a number of popular American songs and sounded very much like the original artists. We called it a night shortly after I finished my meal - the club was still more staff than patrons when we left.

Saturday, while Ravinder and I stayed back at the hotel, the rest of the crew went golfing. I had decided that I didn't like golf enough to wake up at 6 AM on a Saturday to go rent clubs and play an unknown course. This turned out to be a great decision. When the golfers returned, they had some very interesting stories about the golf course.

It starts with the descent to the "Caddy Shack". The course has no golf carts, but they do have caddies so you don't have to carry your clubs while you walk 18 holes. Once you pay, you walk down a long hill to a nondescript building where you rent clubs and all the male caddies are waiting. They said they felt like they were walking towards a prison. Rough looking men milled about and leaned against walls smoking cigarrettes. When they arrived, the men swarmed them, hoping to become a caddy. The rented clubs included all the necessary numbers and not much else. They were a mix-match of brands, and many had obvious dents.

The course itself was not much better. Being a city course, the fairways fell right next to each other, with trees separating one hole from another - this didn't make it any safer. While standing on the first tee, errant shots from other golfers would roll up to them. My colleagues errant shots - which I'm sure they blamed on the quality of clubs - attacked the course from all angles. Every time one of their shots would hook or slice into another fairway, the caddies would not yell "FORE!", but instead made some high-pitch sound that reminded everyone of a some tribal scream. The caddies would laugh at them if they topped the ball or scuffed it.

If chasing errant balls and hitting balls nestled against brick walls was not enough of an annoyance, the river of sewage that ran through the course made the day that much more grueling. The "river" for the "water holes" followed them across many holes on the course. They described the smell as alternating between defecation and donuts. They said they even saw a diaper float by. Groups of people selling various things from golf gloves, to golf balls they had obtained by wading through the sewage and retrieving them, to golf clubs awaited the group at every other hole. Everything seemed to cost $100,000 Rupiah - the equivalent of $10.

While my compatriots suffered through a hot, sticky, smelly round of golf, I indulged in a massage at the hotel spa. For $32, I had a one hour massage - a price point that assures I will have several more before departing. When I entered the room to disrobe, the assistant handed me a robe and something they called "commitment". I didn't ask what they meant by that, but it was basically paper underwear they expected you to wear while receiving the massage - at least that was my interpretation. The massage started with more or less a pedicure without the trimming of nails - the tiny woman washed and massaged my feet and calves. From their it was the standard full body massage.

Saturday evening, we had dinner at a hotel buffet we hadn't realized existed. In one section of the restaurant there was a large faction of young people for what appeared to be a sweet 16 birthday party. A small band consisting of various string instruments played requests in the background. It's a very odd thing listening to an Indonesian string quartet play and belt out country music songs like "Take me home" and "Dahlia" as well as 80's pop songs from "The Cure".

After dinner we retuned to the club level for drinks and billiards. I was on my game and kept anyone else from taking control of the table. While playing, an Israeli named "Amit" - prounced "ah - meat" - joined us and let me beat him a few times. Amit is an architect by trade, and runs a construction business that has a patent on prefab modular housing they can erect in 24 hours. They specialize in preparing housing for those affected by natural disasters. He said they tried to provide housing in Katrina but all of the governmental paperwork, licenses and other bureaucracy made the effort not worth it. Amit was quite the character, and visits Jakarta every few months, so he recommended a few restaurants and nightclubs.

Later, he joined myself and my colleague from the other evening at Mistere. Apparently, Amit is well known at the Ritz, as well as at Mistere. The band knew him well and we sat at the VIP seats in the club. We arrived much later than we had the night before, but the place was still fairly empty until after midnight - that's when people started to show up.

For me, the most memorable part of the evening was recognizing the stark difference between a nightclub in the US and what we saw at Mistere. When the band played, the dance floor consisted of a large group of men dancing by themselves, with Amit leading the way. Some of them would go into the crowd and grab a woman or a waitress every now and then, but for the most part just danced alone. The dancing was not spectacular, either. At one point, some Arabs ran out on the floor and "danced" by putting both hands in the air, extending one leg in front of them and hopping on the other leg. Eventually, they hooked their extended feet around the other and spun in a circle. Women were mostly spectators to this event.

The highlight of the evening was when the band played a disco song and they gave Amit the microphone so he could sing the chorus. Amit was actually very good. My colleague and I finally retired to our rooms around 12:30.

One of the challenges my company faces having mines in remote locations is housing. Our flagship mine in the US is in Morenci, AZ. There is such a housing shortage that hotels are always booked with our employees, and some have to commute hours to get to the jobsite each day. There are large pockets of available acreage nearby, but we can't find any builders who are willing to build houses. I spoke to Amit about this situation and we plan to discuss the idea further before he leaves on Wednesday. Basically, I'll by the land, he'll install several of his prefab houses, and we'll rent the units back to Freeport McMoRan so they have housing for their employees, and everyone is happy. My colleagues keep laughing at me because since we've been here I've discussed four separate side businesses with people we've met.

It's Sunday morning as I write this, and my plans for today are to get another massage and then we are all going to a local shopping center to see what we can buy.