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As Malaysian Prime Minister Najib Razak and President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono sit down for their annual bilateral meeting in Lombok, West Nusa Tenggara, today, this storyteller has been pondering the ever-changing landscape of bilateral relations — first at a gleaming but half-deserted shopping mall, and then at a rooftop party high above the Jakarta skyline.

The city’s flamboyant rococo Belleza Permata Hijau happened to be almost empty when I arrived. I’d been invited to participate in Kompas TV’s “Big Baz” talk show. Our topic was the latest Indonesia-Malaysia bilateral spat, and the show’s host is an old friend and a fellow columnist, Budiarto Shambazy. Since we columnists stick together, I decided to attend the show, despite knowing next to nothing about border markers, the 1824 Anglo-Dutch Treaty, memorandums of understanding or the regions of Camar Bulan and Tanjung Datu.

The Belleza’s echoing atrium provided an elegant, if slightly surreal, backdrop for the weekly show. There was a string quartet of four pretty girls sporting brightly colored dresses and practicing their music, though they appeared to struggle with keeping the time. Truth be told, they weren’t that tuneful either. Meanwhile, the producers and cameramen were testing the sound and the lighting.

For some reason, I was sweating profusely. I tried not to think about my wet hair or the moisture on the back of my batik shirt. The thought of looking drenched on national television made me sweat even more.

In an effort to cool down, I sat and chatted with my fellow guests: the PDI-P’s TB Hasanuddin (one of the first people to raise the issue publicly), a nervous bureaucrat named Sutrisno and the foreign policy specialist Connie Bakrie, who assured me that she isn’t a member of “that” family.

Since I’ve been totally baffled by the controversy, I asked TB, a former general, to explain the situation to me. Since he’s the deputy head of House of Representatives Commission I, which oversees defense and foreign affairs, I received a thorough briefing. Later, this time on air, I suggested that he should visit Kuala Lumpur to explain what’s going on to the Malaysian public, since most people there are both bemused and confused by the whole affair.

TB and I have faced each other many times on local television, and as such, our encounter included a good deal of gentle joshing. Indeed, the last time we met he even threatened to eat me!

The actual taping was slightly disappointing. The Belleza has terrible acoustics and we could barely hear each other speak. The producers had to retake a number of scenes, and the technical details swamped TB’s robust enthusiasm.

Finally, in the penultimate section, the soap opera star Marcella Zalianty joined the panel. Her arrival immediately sparked a strong sense of excitement. Tall, fair-skinned and very good looking, Marcella had earlier released the documentary “Cerita dari Tapal Batas” (“Stories From the Frontier”), which delves into the lives of ordinary Indonesians at West Kalimantan’s Entikong border crossing. Like most Indonesian stars, activism comes just as naturally to her as fame.

Sadly, even with Marcella on board, the technical details still overwhelmed the rest of the production. Finishing up, I went to talk with my fellow guests as TB introduced me to the latest and youngest member of his family. We laughed and agreed to meet for lunch.

Jumping into my car, I then drove off for a party near Jalan Sudirman. As I watched the city pass outside my window, I realized that political issues have a certain rhythm in Indonesia: they rise and gather momentum, they seemingly prepare to explode and then, just as quickly, they disappear. I had just experienced the tail end of the latest bilateral spat — an issue approaching its natural end.

Later, high above Jakarta’s streets on a hotel balcony, the glittering lights of city skyscrapers shining below me, I watched party guests dance the poco-poco.

Swaying gently, they moved forward then back, their footwork surprisingly neat and precise. There was a lilt and subdued energy to the poco-poco, as all focus was channeled to maintain the overall form, though the dancers’ bodies never touched.

The restrained elegance of the dance — with its careful self-containment — is an apt metaphor for Indonesia’s bilateral relationship with Malaysia: forward and back, forward and back, but without touching.

Karim Raslan is a columnist who divides his time between Malaysia and Indonesia.