Robert Finlayson – No one I know loves Soetta, aka Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, except me. I don't love it simply because it's unloved; I'm not that much of an altruist (altruism is an impossible position, anyway). I love it for a number of reasons, some of which are why I loathe the new Terminal 3 at Soetta. So please take note that my love applies only to Terminals 1 and 2, not that awful Terminal 3 that everyone else fawns upon like a sinetron starlet.
"Its so clean and neat and modern," they say, though they may not say the same things about a sinetron starlet, I agree. And they say it like it's a good thing to be clean, neat and modern!
Soetta 1 and 2 aren't modern anymore, but they once were – their design was unique, referencing Indonesian traditional housing styles: Minangkabau and Javanese roof-lines come to mind without much effort. They're airy without being cavernous, spacious without being echoingly empty. But there is actual emptiness! Astonishing that an airport that saw 43.7 million passengers go through its doors in 2010 can still provide a sense of emptiness, and even coziness.
My favorite cozy spot in the international terminal is a tiny hole in the wall called, somewhat modestly, Snack Bar. It's opposite a place called Duty Free, which is where one goes to spray oneself with perfume in preparation for having someone stinky next to you on the long haul to wherever.
Snack Bar has cold beer. Very cold beer. And smokers. And Our Arab Brethren and Our Japanese Friends and Our Aussie Surfer Dudes all mingling on the three seats. It's like being in Kuta or Mombasa in the 1970s, but it doesn't have ice cream – the nice young chap in the batik shirt laughs mildly at you if you ask for ice cream. If you want ice cream you have to go somewhere else. Where, I don't know, but certainly somewhere else. Snack Bar has instant noodles on display and, I suppose from time to time, someone buys and eats them. It also has cockroaches roaming around; not the giant sort that take control of the bathroom and write Great Novels, but the long, slim, limousine-type with a mild, burnished, red-gold sheen. They cheer me up if I'm feeling a bit glum. Snack Bar is a Great and Good Thing. There is no Snack Bar in Terminal 3. In Terminal 3 you can probably only get yogurt sandwiches with lots of white teeth, to go.
There is no stainless steel in Soetta. There are empty shops. There are staff lounging about happy to flirt, giggle and slap each other. There are places with no air-conditioning. There are nice gardens to look at. There are signs saying "no smoking" and delayed passengers sitting under them, smoking. There are lots of places to get your feet massaged. There is a general air of relaxation and "couldn't care less" about the demands of Efficiency and Progress.
What an enormous relief. Soetta makes me happy. Soetta makes air travel seem like hanging out in a warung. May the gods keep it so!