jakarta’s heat is literally melting my brain, and i didn’t even pack sunscreen
i woke up to this weird dream about melting pavement and thought it was real for like 20 minutes. now i’m sitting in a sketchy airbnb near the cikkek river, sweating through my hoodie, and wondering if jkt is trying to kill me with the weather. i just checked and it's like a wet frypan outside, hope you like that kind of thing.
this place is a mess of concrete and chaos. walking through cojen street feels like stepping into a graffiti fever dream. saw this one wall where someone spilled orange paint and it’s just... vibrant, like the city’s begging for attention. i spent 45 minutes trying to shoot a photo of it but the sun was too strong and my lens got a permanent sweat stain. classic jkt.
i heard that the beach closures here are real though. like, not a rumor, someone told me that kemang beach is basically a ghost town because the tide is dry or something. i don’t know if it’s true but i’m gonna check tripadvisor later. link is probably useless but whatever. just click here for some random tripadvisor reviews. it might have the truth.
you know what’s wild? the neighbors. like, actual neighbors. not the vibe, the real people. one old man across the street was dancing to punk music at 3am with a trashcan as a mic. i’m 90% sure he was a former soldier. or maybe just someone who lost it to the heat. either way, if you get bored, cobu is a short drive away. or don’t. i’m here to suffer.
the reviews i’ve seen are all over the place. one yelp said jkt is the best place for ‘authentic street food that’ll break your ribs’ and another called it a ‘disaster of modern life.’ i’m leaning towards the ribs. i ate this super spicy bobor tonight and it was either life-changing or a warning. can’t decide. maybe both. yelp link here exists but i won’t click it. probably lies.
i tried to take a nap but the heat is like a villain from a bad horror movie. it just sits there, waiting. i almost passed out while trying to draw a mural on this alley wall. my hands were numb. i’m a street artist, not a human sundae. the locals were helpful though. a vendor sold me a bottle of water that cost 10k and claimed it was ‘غرق’ (gurge) water. i don’t even know what that means but it tasted like regret.
here’s a map if you care. it’s probably outdated.
i took three photos. one of the graffiti wall, one of the dancing old man (blurry), and one of my sweat-stained hands. you can find them here:
if you’re serious about surviving jkt, don’t trust the weather. seriously. i almost got sunburned on my toes. also, don’t ask me about the air quality. i won’t answer. it’s a trap.
this city is a joke. a beautiful, stupid, suffocating joke. and i’m here for it. like, literally. next post might be about how i tried to start a fire with cardboard and failed. or maybe i’ll just cry into a budget iced coffee. either way, t-minus 30 minutes until my muscles give out.
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