Our Daily Commute

I walk Annika to school every morning and home again every afternoon.  This walk frequently sets the tone for the rest of my morning, but it does so in an odd way.  The walk to school is a short, straight line on a crowded, busy street.

The street is so crowded that when it carries traffic in both directions, we have barely enough room to walk .

The funny thing is that the road does not actually carry too much traffic.  It is just too narrow of a road, and so things like a little girl walking on the side can snarl the cars all the way down the street.  But just as easily, the road can be empty.  Generally, the road is crowded when we have no sidewalk and magically opens up once we have places to walk safely.

But I've got to admit, this walks puts me in a bad frame of mind.  Far too often, drivers will not budge for a little girl walking on the side of the street.  Far too often, bajajs  cough smoke in my face or motorbikes go out of their way to turn in front of me.  Far too often this walk will leave me angry.

And when that happens, I always take the long way home.  These days, I've been taking the long way home as much as possible.  Because on one particularly angry morning, the long way struck me as gentle and quiet and lovely.

When I walk the long way home, I go through meandering roads no longer wide enough for two cars to pass.  These roads are no more than a lane and a half.  And these roads connect not so much by other roads; rather they most often connect by lanes and alleys for motorbikes
.

On the long way home, people have set up stalls on the side of the road, and they smile when I walk past.

The long way home is full of greenery.  It always strikes me how quickly this city returns to jungle.

On the long way home, I pass a small school that seems to be run as a charity; the parents all walk their kids to class.  I pass a larger school with an old playground in a nice yard; the parents here generally ride motorbikes for morning drop off.  School was closed this morning, though.

By halfway home, I've begun to notice the little beauties hiding everywhere in this city.  The colors of the tropical plants;

...the cats nesting in hidden nooks and crannies;

... and all of the people. 

This morning, I walked home particularly slowly because I carried my camera.  People stopped me to chat, or asked me to take their picture.  By the time I've gotten home, I always feel that Jakarta is full of hidden beauty and populated by so many lovely people.