Stories from chaotic Jakarta
Massey University journalism graduate Sarah Young travelled to Jakarta, Indonesia, in January 2011 to participate in the ACICIS Journalism Professional Practicum. Sarah now works as a reporter for the Nelson Mail and Richmond Leader. Asia:NZ provides media grants for journalists to participate in the programme through its membership of ACICIS, the Australian Consortium for In-Country Indonesian Studies.
Flying into Jakarta, it looked like a bad re-make of Waterworld. As I stared down at water-filled
paddocks reflecting grey smog, I wondered where we were going to land, why I hadn’t heard about any floods, and if I should have brought gumboots.
No amount of reading can quite prepare you for the sensory onslaught of hair-curling humidity and heat, the five-centimetre layer of putrid water on the airport toilet’s floor, the sulphuric stench wafting from the muddy potholes on the road, and the relentless, honking ojeks (motorbikes) doing battle with cars on highways where lanes mean nothing.
Driving along the highway in the air-conditioned bubble of the taxi, I felt I was floating alongside complete chaos as we stopped at traffic lights alongside 20 or more motorbikes with multiple passengers.
This was only the introduction to six weeks of a constantly-reeling perspective. But as a journalist, you couldn’t ask for anywhere better.
The statistics captured me – because you are living in it, walking the streets, talking to the locals. With a population of about 20 million during the day, there’s an average of 14,400 people per square kilometre. This mass of humanity emits about 10,000 tonnes of rubbish per day. In a city with very basic infrastructure, you can only begin to imagine the chaos caused by flooding, clogged drains, and an often flagrant disregard for rules.
Not to mention the machete (traffic jam), which some reports estimate will reach complete gridlock by 2014. Traffic really is the defining characteristic of this city.
And there are paradoxes everywhere you look. In this country where 90% of people are Muslim, the call for prayer emanates regularly from numerous mesjid’s (mosques). As you walk around this might be juxtaposed with renditions of Beatles ballads by bands playing at pop-up restaurants in the middle of the street, or cellphone ringtones blaring the latest Katy Perry song. Everyone has a cellphone,sometimes two or three.
Behind these tiny streets are huge, gleaming skyscrapers, and glowing electronic billboards, near which women sit listlessly on the ground with babies that look barely alive and hold out their hands, murmuring ‘money mrs’ faintly at you. It can be horrible, and this disparity between the growing economy and the desperate situation of many hits you in the face every day. 32 million people in Indonesia live on less than US $1 a day.
But it is these extremes, and the lovely, generous people who live in them, which make working here such a stimulating, satisfying and enthralling business. And that was the reason why we were there. To talk with those smiling and generous people, laugh with the most beautiful children I’d ever seen, taste the amazing kwetiau ayam (chicken noodles) and gadogado (vegetables with peanut sauce), drown in the torrential rain and humid heat, and try to be journalists amidst a city of 15 million people and nth-times that of chaos.
The news reflects the city. It’s half-mad. There are literally stories pouring out of every crack, shack and gargantuan pothole in this city. It’s a journalist’s dream. But a little harder for interns, dropped in to the middle of it all, trying to catch up and figure out what is interesting for readers here. All of it is crazy to us, but to most people, drug and people trafficking, horrendous poverty and corruption is just everyday stuff.
Our workplace mentor at the Jakarta Globe, one of the two main daily English newspapers, was a great support. After hearing out our story pitches and giving us some valuable direction, let us hit the ground running and go for it. Working with and shadowing an Indonesian reporter was a great learning experience – both in how to set up interviews, and the subtle cultural interactions and protocol followed for different interview subjects.
To have the opportunity to interview and write something on subjects you probably wouldn’t get the opportunity to do back home – human trafficking, moving a nation’s capital city – was exciting, challenging and satisfying. There’s also the opportunity to do light-hearted, fun stuff too.
The stories you heard from people living there blow your mind. It made me want to cry, more than once. And it’s not all doom and gloom, or hardship. You get to see the incredible potential there, see first-hand how many of the stereotypes of this country just don’t stand up. It’s a chance to learn as much as you can about a country that is close to home – and one that is fighting its way through a hard route to democracy to become a real player on the international stage. To say it’s interesting is an understatement.
All in all, there really is no better way to get a feel for what it is like to work in a foreign country than to live there – to walk the tiny streets and try out your bahasa on the locals, test your stomach on the warung delights, ride an ojek through the heaving streets, and see for yourself just how those intangible concepts of corruption, governance, rehabilitation and disparity operate in real life. The country and its people will shock you, make you laugh, make you cry, and warm your heart.
Images: (top to bottom)
1. Local children
2. Jakarta Traffic
3. Sarah Young and local children