I went for it, belting out words far outside my range: I set my voicebox free, unrestrained by keys or tones. And though my timing was good I wouldn’t blame anyone for failing to recognize the song. It was horrible-good, I was smiling, and I proved I could shed self-consciousness to fit in with the new group. Even dancers in the club down the hall probably wondered who was this singer with so much misplaced confidence. That’s what it takes, I thought – show them you can be loose and play.

I put the microphone down. I looked around the table but nobody would make eye contact with me, people were kinda quiet. Instead of applauding, some stood to get a drink while others had already left the room during the song. Azure’s face was in her hands. “What the hell?” I thought.

The following performers ranged from good to spectacular, Mul leading the way with a soft, skilled voice that I didn’t even notice because I thought it came from the karaoke track. Other guys sang well, too, and the women were impressive. The highlight of the night came from a Chinese woman whose performance was so captivating that it snapped me right out of the slog of pretending to enjoy myself. Her style was completely un-Western, a high-pitched, nasally song that might be folk Chinese, performed with the kind of talent that deserved a nationally televised concert on a patriotic holiday. It was like her voice was stretching glass. Friends applauded and cheered. I had totally misjudged the values of this group, a social strategy that’s quickly becoming my signature.

Mul leaned over to me, “She was Miss China a couple years ago.” What?

From the second Mul’s driver opened the door for us, this whole night – our first in Jakarta – would surprise us. Miss China was married to the guy who handed me the microphone, an oil company founder and the Secretary of State’s son. The guy on the other side of Mul was head of Citibank Indonesia. Mul himself is related to, among others, a former head of Lehman Brothers who now leads Barclays Japan. Mul’s uncle owns a distribution company in Indonesia with 60,000 stores, something akin to 7-11, and the uncle’s other company produces 70% of the products available in those stores. Another friend owns Forever 21 and someone else is head of the largest mobile phone service provider in Indonesia, a country with 200,000,000 people, fourth most populous in the world (after China, India and the US). Some guy’s dad is running for Governor of Seoul, South Korea. Another guy has a $50 million credit at a casino in Macau.

The numbers he threw out were staggering. The most staggering, maybe, was the story about his friend’s wedding. It wasn’t the fact that 3,000 people attended, though that dropped my jaw. It was that they hired a world-famous florist to fly from LA to Jakarta to do the flowers. The price: $500,000.

Not surprisingly, I have some opinions about this that I’m going to have to let cool before pouring them on the blog. Can a blog melt? For now, I’ll just say that this was only a preview of the status-pursuit that would be put on display for us over the next five days.