Savor the Moment.

No matter where I go, there's always wonderful stories around me... Beautiful moments I can frame with my camera and freeze for the rest of eternity. Some of them are poetic in their own right, while others are only special in my own personal context. Here are some photos (and stories that accompany them) that I would like to share.

This is a becak, otherwise known as a rickshaw in central Asia. Becaks these days are mostly motorized, but the really badass becak drivers are peddle pushers. Since most becaks are slow and cumbersome (and hold up traffic) they are banned in Jakarta (capital of Indonesia). Medan, being a slow and sleepy town however, still allow Becak's to roam the streets.

I remember when I was younger, mom and I took a becak from someone's house to my grandmother's place. The poor becak drivers was sweating bullets and my mom was still trying to negotiate a lower price (we're talking cents here). Which reminds me, I should bring my mother along shopping more often...

This was some soccer (football for my UK/AUS/Latin friends) field which I saw through the car window. I was able to capture the numbers on the wall behind the post before we started moving again (for some reason, that framed set of numbers makes me smile). During Hari Raya (think Muslim Christmas) this field is probably transformed into an outdoor mosque, where a sea of people pray together during the early morning hours. It's a pretty neat sight.

Banjir! Banjir! Flooding is something that Indonesia does really well. This was after some heavy rains, but nothing to crazy. Can you imagine how bad the floods are during the monsoons? I mean, seriously, how hard is it to install good drainage? (Where are the civil engineers amongst my readers? Can you please explain to me how hard it is to plan a city?)

This picture I took for my Uncle Steve, who loves those little green chillies right there. These little chili padi's are hot little buggers - I remember mistakenly eating one during my aunt's wedding 15 years ago, and spending most of dinner trying to stop the tears caused by the heat. My uncle (a retired fireman) eats them out of a bowl. LIKE POPCORN.

I went bowling with some family members, and here's the bowling shoes I got to wear - cartoon shoes! I think they would go well with the Hello Kitty Bowling Ball from one of my previous posts, Fun Sightings in Jakarta.

Anyway, that's all for now. Big changes are coming, as we switch gears and travel to new and amazing places. Stay tuned as we travel to the land down under!

One of the greatest things about Asia is the range of local fruits, vegetables and flowers that are indigenous to the tropics. On a trip to the wet market with my mother, I decided to snap a few photographs and document these fine specimens (and then eat them - well, at least the fruit).


Mangosteen, according to wikipedia comes from "a tropical evergreen tree, believed to have originated in the Sunda Islands and the Moluccas. The tree grows from 7 to 25 meters tall. The rind (exocarp) of the edible fruit is deep reddish purple when ripe. Botanically an aril, the fragrant edible flesh is sweet and creamy, citrusy with some peach flavor. Often heralded as the "Queen of Fruits"[1], mangosteen is closely related to other edible tropical fruits such as button mangosteen and lemondrop mangosteen."

Blah blah blah. All I know is that they stain everything bright crimson red, taste wonderful and are hard to open. (The trick is to crush it in between your palms.) My family used to buy them pingir jalan (roadside) on the way to Brastagi, a mountain resort town in northern Sumatra. I'd sit in the backseat with them, staining my face and hands. I looked like I murdered someone. It was great.

Terong Belanda is not a fruit I'm accustomed to, nor do I know how the locals consume it... But I found some interesting cocktails on a cool food blog called For the love of baking - you should check it out.


Soursop is one of those fruits I never did like... Granted, it means "acid bag" in Dutch, so you can't blame me. But this is what wikipedia has to say,

"Comparisons of its flavor range from strawberry and pineapple mixed together to sour citrus flavour notes contrasting with an underlying creamy roundness of flavour reminiscent of coconut or banana. The fruit is somewhat difficult to eat, as the white interior pulp is studded with many large seeds, and pockets of soft flesh are bounded by fibrous membranes. The soursop is therefore usually juiced rather than eaten directly."

We always had soursop juice boxes in the house, and unlike the mango or the lychee ones (which flew off the shelf) those miserable green boxes stayed in purgatory where they belonged.


Salak, otherwise known as snake fruit, is one of my favorite fruits from my childhood. You peel the snake-like skin off and eat the somewhat dry flesh within. They are small and hard, so they also make good projectiles. Not that I was throwing them at anyone... *taps fingers nervously*

Ahhhhh. Durian is the one fruit you've probably heard about. Underneath the hard husk worthy of the trebuchet is the pungent, smelly and rich flesh that made this fruit famous. In fact, the Durian is SO smelly that it's banned in many public places, such as offices, hotels and buses. For example, here's a cool photo from the Singapore MRT (Mass Rapid Transit):

I wouldn't consider myself a good daughter... In fact, I would think I'm one of the worse types. I don't call home to catch up, I don't ask for any advice and I'm terribly independent. My mom (being the bestest types of moms you can get) disagrees with me though, which I am highly appreciative of.

Anyway, Mom's birthday is on the same weekend as mother's day - sorta like those poor souls who have their birthday on or around Christmas. As the only daughter in the area (Danielle and Estelle are still in Seattle), I thought I would head out to north Sumatra to see her... So over the course of 6 days, we were able to hang out and enjoy each other's company.

I would like to point out that is was the first time since I was 16 that my mother and I had uninterrupted time to spend with each other. (Hence the bad daughter comment from above). We got to know each other as adults, laugh, eat and reminiscence about my childhood. I initially had (a lot of) reservation about going to see her, but in the end, we both had a great time.

Happy birthday mom, I love you.

A friend of mine sent this to me, and I thought it was funny. I thought I would share, and point out that the makeup will last at least 3 months... the beer would last one hangover.

Back at the begining of my trip, I did a post about the strange things I saw in London. Since arriving in Jakarta a few days ago, I've been bombarded with much fodder to photograph. Here's some of the great things this city has to offer.

So after three months of travelling, I finally made it "home" to Jakarta, Indonesia. Coming back here is always bitter sweet for me, since so many painful memories from the past comes flooding back to me, but (thank God) intermingled with the memories of great friends and amazing adventures.

Since the invention of Facebook, (if you're not on it, GET ON IT) I've been able to catch up with long-lost friends from high school (the Jakarta International School). We've been able to mobilize and organize mini-reunions all over the place, including some in Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, Bali, London and in Vegas in 2008. I came back to Jakarta this time around for a small reunion which takes place at Bakmie GM, an awesome fast-food noodle joint we frequented in our adolescence.

Being back here is hard, and I can tell because there are many people, places and events that I seem to have blocked from my memory. It's a dark place to revisit, but I think it's important - because so much of my past has molded me into the woman I am today. (Yeah, this is going to be a heavy post, deal with it.)

I was back here about a year and a half ago, but wasn't able to deal with the buried emotions - everything seemed different, but more importantly, there was no one around who could really share in that lost innocence. This time around though, I'm in Jakarta with the people who I grew up with. In our minds, we can reconstruct Garuda (a great pool hall that I used to visit after school with Kris Saunders) before it burned down, talk about Bayu (a crap club I used to go to during 9th, yes I said 9th, grade) before it shut down and about our lives after the riots, which I know transformed our lives forever.

There is something about growing up here, something about our school - something about our friendships that I cannot, for the life of me, ever explain to people. It's this common denominator that binds third culture kids like Karen Chuan, Ben Nolan, Amanda Drosten, Joel Staples, John Boomgard, Danielle Townshend and Kris Saunders etc together.

For example, John Boomgard came to pick me up at the airport here in Jakarta. I haven't seen this kid since we were 14 years old, when I was taller and bigger than him - and we feel strangely close even though we never hung out in high school, or kept in touch through the years. But we've been running around making a ruckus like old friends, with little but a common heritage to bind us together.

I guess when it comes down to it, these people are home to me. They are sancutaries for spontaneous hugs without fear of rejection or explanation, temples honoring our unique individuality and champions for our collective differences. In a sense, they are my family.

Alright, enough with the deep, gushy crap. There are guys that read my blog and I don't want to lose my (small but devoted) group of readers. I promised, hot almost naked women in another post... really. (no really, I went to a lingerie brand launch party.)

Here are a few awesome pictures I took, and cute stories to accompany them - it'll take your mind off the battle that rages internally in Riani's head and heart.

Selamat Datang! John and I "playing bowling" if you translate the Indonesian term literally into English. John was five-foot short the last time I saw him, but now he's a healthy 6 feet tall and heavy enough to kick my ass... So I'll be nice to him.



At my fave restaurant, Cafe Tamani in Kemang. As a child, my father never let me blow bubbles in my drinks. So now, as an adult, I do it all the time. Every chance I get, until the bubbles pour over the sides and onto the table. Take that dad! (Memo to me, when I have kids, I'm letting them blow bubbles - so they can get it out of their system before they mature. If they mature.)




John and I went for sushi, and I managed to dump a full mug of hot green tea all over myself. Boomgard would like to point out, that it looked like I peed my pants. ("You DID pee your pants, Riani" he says, over my shoulder.) When the hot liquid finished spilling, we looked at each other and said, "damn, if it were the states, we could sue."


Some chick named Carla put a Perfume scent sample on the sushi conveyor-belt thingy... We responded, and then she wished us well. I loved random things like this! =)



Anyway, that's really it for now. I have a lot of posts coming up in the next couple of days, so please stay tuned!