Out to Lunch in Jakarta


War Merchandise

Landed in Singapore where we will stay for a short while. Walking around I found a bookstore (I am a reading person). Quite absurd, the heaviest promoted books on the shelves were about chemical warfare, terrorism, Jihad, e t c. They even did put a nicely displayed war stand together. Hmm…


Right now I am sitting at a café close to the airport in Jakarta, having a cup of Java on Java (so to speak). It's hot as hell and the humidity is beyond belief. I must look like a total idiot since everybody tries to sell me a lot of junk all the time: pens, fake Rolexes, perfume.

The people at customs glanced with strange eyes at my Frank Zappa T-shirt. A sign of Western decadence maybe… (not to say the look of the guy wearing it). I had to walk though Goods to Declare since I was carrying CDs that were subject to possible censorship (like Zappa, and if you read Tour de France, the PC-game Hexen, and more). Speaking of Hexen, I don't dare to turn my laptop on here considering it might melt from the heat).

The only hostile vibe I have felt so far was when I was strolled around in a parking lot, a shortcut to some interesting-looking monument. A group of men popped up from out of nowhere between two cars and began shouting at me. One guy was waving a big wooden stick above my head. All of a sudden the interesting-looking monument wasn't that interesting anymore. I turned around, smiling gently (to cover up my nervousness) and hoped for the best. Nothing happened.


The, after all, not so interesting monument

No sign of Sani-Cola! (You probably figured that one out already). Coffee tastes good though…

Just talked to a very friendly man, Mr. M Bukhori. M Bukhori's job is to whistle away cabs from the sidewalk. He was very talented I noticed - in the ten minutes we spoke he must have whistled away at least 30 cars. When I told him about Freak Kitchen, e t c, he got very excited. I promised to put him on the site so… there you go, Mr. Bukhori.


Leaning back, stuffed with Nasi Goreng, while listening to Spanish folk music in my CD-walkman. Thinking of what to write in my Freak Guitar column in Swedish Fuzz magazine. Also trying to decide what backing tracks to use at the Freak Guitar Workshop in Tokyo. Can't make up my mind though.

Gee, I am looking forward to check out and play my new Apple Horn tomorrow! Isn't it a really super cool instrument? Itaru and company exceed themselves every time! I am grateful to the bone for Caparison's genuine support. My friend Tom Englund of the band Evergrey came over to the house a couple of days ago. He is also endorsed (as numerous other Swedish guitar players) and we both tried to outdo one another in superlatives about the wonderful instruments.



Gotta find a place to wash my face before disappearing in a pool of sweat…

There! Did it help? Nope. Only more people insisting selling me those pens… oh, and a girl going for the perfume and hey, here comes the pen again (eagerly trying to be sold by a teenage boy in a funny Van Halen bootleg shirt. The VH-logo is all messed up and sort of inverted in a funny way. I asked where he got it but he thought it would be a better idea if I bought one, or perhaps all of his pens. Another fake Rolex passing by…).

When leaving Indonesia I believe I will carry a giant bag of "things to write with" (read: pens), bought in utter sympathy for the poor girls and boys who need to sell this un-sellable crap to, at best, make a living. This is making me very ambivalent. Better have another cup of coffee.


Young girls point and giggle as I walk by. I wave at them and they giggle and blush even more. I must look awfully out to lunch to them.

Scribbling down ideas for the new Freak Kitchen CD as I take a last zip of caffeine. We hope to begin recordings early next year. I am bloody excited about making this album with Björn and Christer. In less than a year the three of us have experienced many, many amazing moments (another pen-salesman calling upon my attention. No thank you, not right now). My gut feeling tells me this is only the beginning of something ultra-groovy. Hope you will think so too.

Listening to Zappa and the track "The M.O.I Anti-Smut Loyalty Oath" (from "You Can't Do That On Stage Anymore", Vol. 6). I can't help but laughing until tears fill my eyes. Once I realize people stare at me I am beginning to loose control and the laugh even more. A somewhat stupid, typical reaction for a lonely Swede pretty far away from home. Ahh… what the hell.

Before boarding I went through passport control where the police person behind the desk asked if I had any Swedish or American money. "Why?" I asked and he answered "A gift. For me". I told him I didn't carry any hard cash, only my Visa-card. The man (and his buddy) smiled and said "Oh, you are going to stay in Indonesia for a looooong time, my friend". I told him I didn't think so, I had a plane to catch, grabbed my passport in a combination of fear and anger, and walked on. For a while I was afraid they were going to drag me into some evil interrogation room and do nasty things. Again, nothing happened. It's just a game, I know, but I admit it's a game that's making me kinda nervous. (Rather play sweet, innocent games like Hexen where you slay demons and slice were jaguars in two. Yepp).

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