Photo: Thomas Lehmen
Of course, I underestimated how long it a ride through Jakarta takes during rush hour. An hour would not be sufficient to get to the theatre at the other end of town in time, my dialogue partner says at the end of our conversation that only took one hour, which is considered short in Indonesia.
The only chance is going by motorcycle to get through Jakarta, because there is no subway. They quickly order one and after I have put on a helmet and got on the bike, I learn that my driver is the choreographer’s father, who brings me to the theatre in a record 45 minutes.
Faster and tighter than all the other hundreds of motorbikes, we speed over crossroads, push past trucks and cars and hustle centimetre by centimetre across overcrowded traffic junctions. Where the police try to regulate the traffic, nothing works anymore. As long as you sit on the bike, you should best stop thinking about life or death.
If you want to understand, how things move in Indonesia, you should go by motorbike during rush hour. There are obviously no rules except for using each gap and adapting to the general flow. Nothing is definite; everything might change within a moment. You always anticipate that everyone else could do something unpredictable. After I have thanked the father a thousand times for bringing me safely, I enter the theatre still a bit shaky and dizzy because of exhaust fumes.