Between Sengkang and Jakarta

0Hazrul Azhar Jamari • 27th Aug 2007 • My Notes

 

Taman Ismail Marzuki, An arts centre. Don’t ask my why it’s named after a male anatomy.

I went to Jakarta from the 13th to 16th August recently, participating in a conference for the South, East, North, Central and Asia Pacific groups affiliated to GCAP, to draft a resolution that binds the region together in the fight against poverty.

The trip was extremely fruitful although it was a little messy on the part of the organisers. But I must say, I thought I knew Indonesians, but having visited 4 days of my heritage (majority of my blood line being Javanese and Boyanese), I’ve grown to love Indonesia.

The Jakarta Fountain

The Indonesians were extremely warm and friendly, and I’ve never known this much tolerance and understanding from people of different dialect groups and races. I admit, before I touched down at Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, I didn’t expect Jakarta to be pleasant, despite the traffic jams, polluted air and waterways. But having found that Jakarta is in many ways a bit more free than it’s KL counterpart really makes me want to visit it often.

I went on this trip with Nadia Lajam, who was later christened “Naughty Nadia” by the Indonesians. Yes, I told my girlfriend before I left, I know some of you are worried about my frivolous past. In fact, Nad personally came down to see me off and gave Nadia a mental warning. Ok, I exaggerated. Heh. But I love her alot alot alot ok. (Note to Crystal: I am NOT a mata keranjang!)

Mr Singapore Manhunt posing with a fan.

Upon reaching Jakarta, we survived the 2 hour Jakarta Jam, listening to Amy Winehouse on the iPod, and chatting on each other’s music, the weather, the sights and sounds of Jakarta. We got on a BlueBird hatchback MPV, very comfortable than the standard Jakarta Taxis, and it doesn’t even have a “TAXI” sign like our Mercedes cabs here. So it was fun being driven around like an OKB (Orang Kaya Baru), especially after changing your Yusof Ishaks for Indonesian Rupiahs.

Now that Nadia and me were exchanging intimacies, please refer to the 2nd paragraph before this. I was thinking about you alotalotalot ok.

Well, we thought we were the last to arrive. Apparently, we were still early, by a matter of accident rather than by design. It was about 4.00pm Jakarta time when we arrived. We should have been on our way to a Jakarta camp site by 4.30pm, but we were delayed, thanks to the Jakarta traffic. I think though, it was a godsend, as if we were rushed to the campsite, we wouldn’t have been able to spend the idle time getting to know the other delegates from Australia (Nina Murphy) and the Phillippines (Jon, Nadja and Claudine).

Eventually, the organisers surrendered to God’s will and told us we had free time until after Maghrib (the evening prayer time for Muslims), and after dinner, we scooted off in cabs, again, battling Jakarta traffic, to finally arrive at the campsite, in about 45 minutes.

We were guests to the concluding Indonesian Youth Conference. A conference organised by the IPPA (Indonesian Planned Parenthood Association), the largest NGO in all of Indonesia. Of course we were late, well half of the guys at least, and we were relieved to have finally reached camp after circling Jakarta’s streets.

It was such a shame as we missed this cultural performance by a youth dance troupe. They were pretty lah, and Jon was excited after I rounded them up for a photo shoot. Jon whispered, “You want to us to have a picture with them?”. I smirked. Naugthy Jon. But I just wanted to take a snapshot of the girls in their gorgeous traditional baju. (Yah, I know some of you still don’t believe me).

Hot Right?

After the Indonesians displayed their energy and fervour to commit to a better Indonesia, they partied. I mean, really partied. We jet lagged foreigners were a bit hesitant dancing to their dangdut, but it would have been impolite not to dance even though Nina, Nadia and me were terrible dancers.

Well, we had a job to do, so after the Dangdut, the cha-chas, the line dancing and feet stomping, I sneaked away to get hold of Doni (Nadia’s Indonesian admirer), to tell him that the foreigners wanted to get back to the hotel to prepare for the following day’s proceedings.

A bit of Asia, cramped in a 7 seater MPV

So we bid our farewell, and cramped Singapore, Phillippines, Australia and a piece of Indonesia in a 7-seater MPV, Jakarta style.

For the next 2 days, we were to have an experience that would change our lives completely, and for me at least, reaffirm my commitment to ONEsg. The developed nations had prepared presentations to share about what we have done to fulfill the MDGs, and we felt somehow lacking in energy as opposed to the developing nations. There isn’t extreme poverty in our countries. Just people with financial challenges.

But looking and feeling the poverty of Indonesia and the other developing nations, somehow made me very grateful I’ve lived my life in Singapore. We live a life of privilege here and I don’t think I’ll be typing this entry on a MacBook over a 3MB Broadband connection if not for our state of life. Then again, the grass always appear greener on the other side, and we continue to wonder why many Singaporeans escape to colourful Toronto and Ontario, while others go to sunny Melbourne and Perth.

Well, I thought we’d end up giving in Indonesia, contributing what Singapore has learnt and done in the fight against 3rd world class of living. I ended up taking back so much more. I’ve never felt this sort of satisfaction in a long time. Not since ITQAN in 2001.

We’ve learnt that sex education is non-existent in Indonesia. The un-educated or perhaps the ignorant, do not know what puberty means or understand its meaning. Thus, the rate of unsafe abortions in Indonesia is extremely high. Perhaps higher than that in Singapore’s Malay community.

While the anecdotal presentation was extremely comical, that was something we felt grateful for. Australia though was better off as they didn’t have taboo. Whereas in conservative Singapore, the topic is minimally discussed.

The Karet River

But the most impactful experience was when we visited Sungai Karet, Jakarta’s main river. It’s water was as black as soot, coloured by the wealth of rubbish that covered the river bed. We took a boat ride on the river, and the extent of the pollution was clear from the pungent odour that filled the air and the ever continuous failings of the motorboat engine which had its rotors clogged by the rubbish.

Street children who call this river home. Sad but true.

It’s a wonder how some people call this atrocity home. They say that the residents of the river, these poor people call this their home because it is their livelihood. They collect the scraps here to sell. They build their huts here, wash their faces here, take a bath here. I for one, like Li Gen, the Chinese delegate on the boat ride with me hoped that we wouldn’t fall into the dark River Karet. According to Li Gen, he doubts showering would do any good.

I’m grateful for the lessons learnt and the friendships made. The one thing I miss about Jakarta though is not the food, but the friends I’ve made, from Sumatra all the way to Papua.

I miss you all.

Gue Banget!