Oh Baby!

INDONESIANS LOVE BABIES. Many people made this remark when they learned we were moving to Jakarta with an infant. I always thought it was an odd thing to say; who doesn't love a baby? But it turns out there is something to this, because Indonesians really do love them some babies.

It's not just old ladies either. It's the taxi drivers and the waitstaff and the entire employ of the nail salon. Even customs agents! In fact, Miles is turning out to be the best passport possible....literally. At passport control, after entering the wrong line, we were passed through with a friendly wave "for the baby". And Miles is quickly learning the value of flirting and the currency of charm. Pretty much every person I've met in this country so far is because of Miles. Thanks, buddy.

For evidence of Indonesian baby love one has to go no further than your local eatery, where, in a matter of minutes, your child will be swept away by a hostess or waiter and entertained for the duration of your meal. We'd been prepped that this was a chief bonus of having a baby in Indonesia. Still, it sounded a bit like an overblown, one-time experience of someone on holiday. Maybe resort waiters looking for a tip hand out free childcare while also serving you chicken satay, but that's not how people roll on a daily basis, certainly not in the capitol city. 

So, imagine my delight when, out of the corner of my eye, I spied the outstretched arms of a waitress in a little Japanese restaurant where we were enjoying lunch. Swoop! She picked him up, overjoyed to have this fat little baby in her arms, like I'd just handed her a sachet of gold. Before I knew it, Miles was no where to be found. But it took a moment to realize this because there was this gorgeous plate of vegetable tempura in front of us accompanied with a side of peace. and. quiet. Eventually, though, I needed to do the responsible thing and locate him.

Locate him I did, in the kitchen, where he was holding court with the entire staff. He'd been passed off to the restaurant manager, and she was holding him up for all the cooks, servers, busboys, and dishwashers to admire. And he was loving every minute of it. This scenario has been repeated nearly every time we've gone out to eat. 


We sit. We ponder the menu. We nearly decide which delicious fruit beverage concoction to order when some waitperson appears, motioning, "can I hold your baby?" And then off he goes to have his photo taken with everyone in the establishment.

It's impossible not to be tickled by this phenomenon. After all, it's hard to imagine something similar happening in the United States. Picture it. You're sitting in the food court at the mall. Shall we have Sbarro or Auntie Anne's? Suddenly, you notice the guy manning the Jamba Juice holding out his hands for your baby. I believe the correct response here would be a call to social services.

But not in Indonesia. Here, it's standard practice. I can't really explain it. All I can say is that I'm very pleased we found a country where the babysitting is free.