FROM THE EDITOR [MAY 12th 2006]

I had hoped that my visiting brother would have some input on how the revive the business in BuGils, but he didn't even bother to stay for a night in Jakarta; he flew straight to Yogya to visit the girl he met a year earlier. His first sms came a few days after he arrived. 'I am sitting here with all her brothers and sisters. There are a lot of them. We are having an evening picnic at the foot of a volcano.' I couldn't believe it. Love must be really blind. I immediately send him back an sms: 'What is the name of the volcano you are looking at?' It was alarming. He was at the foot of the Merapi that could explode at any time and he had no idea. I told him to leave that area immediately. I just read that rocks could fall down in a radius of 15 kilometer from the top. 'But my girlfriend says that we are still 20 minutes away from the crater..'. And this guy is a cum laude university graduate from the THT Twente!? I shouted back: 'Within one hour that top will be on top of your head, if you don't get the hell out of there!' He mumbled some yeah yeah yeah and hung up. I haven't hear from him since that call a few days ago.

I decided to start my daily round along the four bars. First to Cazbar for a good cup of coffee. I was welcomed by a crying cashier who we had moved from BuGils to Cazbar. She was worried she wouldn't get her severance pay that she had built up after working for BuGils for 6 years. I suddenly remembered she had called me the night before, while I was somewhere in a dark corner of Jakarta and she wanted to talk about this. Ai.. The poor girl hadn't slept the whole night. I assured her of her severance pay and that she shouldn't worry. Then Leanne came in, the new supervisor. Leanne is ok, but somehow she always need my attention just when I am concentrated over my computer. You wonder why you didn't receive that many newsletters lately? Now you know. I pretended to listen, while checking my emails, but when she kept on knocking at the top of a billiard stick she had in her hand, it started to irritate me. 'I don't know what to do! I really don't know!' She kept on repeating this sentence, as she had done the day before, and the day before that. I shut down my laptop. 'Buy a new one', I said. I left a bewildered bluffed looking Leanne behind, while I moved on to the next bar, Eastern Promise.

In Eastern Promise construction is moving forward fast. It must be the first project in Indonesia ever, that will be finished before its first deadline. There is a constant flow of girls coming through, applying for a waitress job. We hired a few already, and I noticed that the two 'old' EP regulars are now sitting with their back more stretched then ever before. They shave themselves every day now. Eni, the 50 year old waitress, is still there and she has become a kind of an attraction, after I wrote about her in an earlier newsletter (she is competing with the staring waitress in Cazbar). You have to be sure to make your order clear to her before she turns around to get it. As soon as she turns around there is no chance for a recall anymore. Maybe because she is a bit deaf. Or maybe she can hear fine but she is just not always in the mood to walk back and forth. The way to the kitchen is long and with a lot of steps. Once she is on her way to get there, she doesn't turn around. She has done these steps for 30 years. Pak Heri is the chef and he is over 60. Good thing about a chef of 60 is that the competition will not steal him away. And he will work on to be sure of his severance pay. But Eni and Heri don't talk with each other. I don't know why yet, but I will find out. She just puts the order paper on his kitchen table and he silently prepares, while she sits on a chair in front of the kitchen door waiting. Heri could inform Eni that the food is ready, as she is sitting in front of him, but he doesn't. He will smack the bell to indicate that the food is ready. And he will smack it hard. Maybe that is why she can hear not well. I move on to the third bar: The One Tree Bar in Blok M.

Opening a bar in Blok M is a different experience. I do this bar together with Sake of the Everest and through him I learn about the tight competition that's going on in that one street. The One Tree Bar is still under construction. It is located next to Oscars, at the end of the street were we thought it would be easy parking. Just when I had a look at the progress, I noticed this people moving office equipment into this renovated building, just next to the One Tree Bar. It turned out that Citibank will open a branch there. Good, I thought, a bank next door is good for the environment. But by asking the guy again, why there were so many motorbikes in front, taking all the parking space, he explained me with a big smile that it will actually not be a normal Citibank branch. 'Huh?',  I reacted in confusion. He explained: 'No, it will be the office from where Citibank sends out their 600 money collectors on motorbikes every day!'  I hung my head. Time to go back to BuGils, my roots. I miss BuGils sometimes. I feel guilty when I haven't been there for a few days. The business is slowing down in BuGils and I should revive it quickly. And I will.

It is Saturday evening and when I arrive in BuGils. The Rolling Stones band is playing. I notice they have another bass player and drummer. The manager explained to me that the original drummer is playing in Bandung with Rod Steward and the bass player is somewhere else with Elvis. 'Oh, Ok', I nod understandingly. Risha points at four girls at a table when I come in. 'Cewek!  Cewek!' Hannah and Iya shout simultaneously. I look at the four girls in front of the main speaker where the Stones are blasting 'You can't always get what you want'. One of the four waves from a distance. It turns out to be a girl I once met at Cengkareng golf course with her three colleagues. She is stunning beautiful and could be a welcome addition to the staff of one of the bars. She explained that she had just quit her job as a caddy a few months ago, and was interested in a new challenge. She ordered a Margarita, the others a lemon tea. That was a good first sign. As a  standard question, I asked her: 'Do you speak English?' A bit dreamingly she looked at me with a flaw smile. 'Of course I do.....'. She waited for a second and then continued to demonstrate her fluent British vocabulary. 'F...cking bunker..', she said without a glimpse. None of the other girls moved an inch. The one who had been staring outside of the window with her head resting in her hands, now slowly turned to me and gave a demonstration of her knowledge: 'I topped the goddamn f..cker....'. They all looked straight at me with sleepy eyes. I wanted to laugh but couldn't. I just looked around. The crazy Mick Jagger, the girls behind the bar, the customers around the bar.... Is this for real? It is good to be back in BuGils, I thought. No, BuGils will never die....

The late night call was from my mother. If I had heard anything from Herman, because she hadn't. I told her he was probably ok. 'Well, anyway', my mother said, 'its good he is in Jakarta, far away from that volcano that is about to explode...'. She had no idea that the girl was actually living on the slopes of that damn mountain and that Herman was picnicking there. 'There are a lot of trembles now. I just saw it on the news', my mother continued. These trembles were probably caused by Herman, on the first night they met again, but I didn't want to worry my mother. I have other things to worry about. A wasted pool stick, the Eni and Heri sage, 600 debt collectors and ...?  And a f...cking bunker....
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