Kidzania is an indoor, 'edutainement' center located in Pacific Center (that insane mall I posted pictures of on Facebook). It's essentially a mini-city, where kids can try their hand at pretty much any profession imaginable, earn money, spend money, catch a taxi, ride a bus, eat ... you name it.
After waiting in a confusing line-up, we paid at a mock airline check-in desk, where they gave the boys each a voucher, and we were waved along. We followed the flow of people until being spat out into the middle of a chaotic scene. We were literally in the middle of a miniature city. Children were riding past in miniature taxis. They were dressed like police officers, running after a 'robber.' They were firefighters, spraying down a 'burning' building. Nurses diapering babies. Mechanics. Secret Agents. Workers at a noodle factory. A waffle factory. There was a hospital, a news station, a tattoo parlour. There were overcrowded streets, flashing lights, ambulances, buses. Everyone seemed to know what was going on except for us.
I found someone who looked like he worked there. At the very least, he had a walkie-talkie, so he was an authority in my eyes.
"Excuse me. We've never been here before. What are we supposed to do?"
He explained to me in broken English and hand gestures that the boys needed to take their vouchers to the bank to get their money. Then they needed to chose a job to make more money for things they need, like taxis.
We pressed through the crowded streets and found the bank. Then we wandered somewhat aimlessly while we tried to figure out this new city, and what job they wanted. We waited in lines, bumped against people, and tried desperately not to lose each other in the crowd. The lines for Firefighter, Dentist and Secret Agent were too long, so by default the boys went to work at the Medicated Powder Factory, which had no line. No joke.
Once the boys had been paid, they wanted to drive race cars. Naturally. But in order to drive a race car, you need a driver's license. And in order to get a driver's license, you need a checkup at the hospital. I kid you not.
This whole scenario seemed completely ironic. Kidzania had successfully reproduced the stress and confusion we had experienced since setting foot in Jakarta. They had distilled the experience of coming to a new country into one level of a mall. And they had somehow managed to get us to pay good money to do it. That, my friends, is brilliant marketing.
On a related note, have a I mentioned that we have a new vehicle? A real one, not a kid-sized one. It's a red Toyota Avanza, and it's parked downstairs outside our apartment's lobby. We have to get insurance for it. And our driver's licenses. And we have to learn to drive stick-shift on the left side of the road.
Maybe if we market it properly, we can get some kids to pay us, and they can figure that whole process out for us. That would be fun.
Right?
(Now, for your pleasure, here are some more blurry pictures of our time at Kidzania...)
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