A Rp 50,000 banknote<\/p>\n
By Chairil Gibran Ramadhan<\/p>\n
I have looked at this Rp 50,000 banknote many times. I have
\nstudied both sides, carefully examining the letters, figures,
\npictures and safety lines. I have been doing this for three
\nnights.<\/p>\n
After coming home from selling noodles at the end of the road,
\nparking my cart next to my rented house, taking a bath,
\nperforming the afternoon prayer and eating, I take the banknote
\nfrom under the newspaper on which I place the raw noodles in my
\ncart. I look at this banknote until my two children go to sleep
\nand my wife too, although she always reminds me that God would
\nexchange it for something more valuable.<\/p>\n
I worked hard for the money. Twenty bowls of chicken noodles
\nhad to be sold to get it. This means I had to put into bowls 20
\nlumps of noodles that I cooked. Then I had to put 20 pinches of
\ncooked mustard greens, 20 pinches of uncooked leek, 20 teaspoons
\nof salt, 20 teaspoons of flavoring powder, 20 ladles of gravy, 60
\nspoons of chicken broth, 60 spoons of semur chicken, 60 white
\ncrispy chips, 60 spoons of sambal, 60 spoons of tomato sauce and
\n20 spoons of chili sauce.<\/p>\n
Three days ago, a new customer paid for two bowls of noodles
\nwith Rp 50,000.<\/p>\n
\"Do you have anything smaller, Oom?\" I asked, holding the
\nmoney.<\/p>\n
\"Sorry, I have only these Rp 50,000 notes,\" he said. He took
\nout his wallet and showed me its contents. \"Look.\"<\/p>\n
My eyes grew bigger and my mouth watered. There were a number
\nof new and clean Rp 50,000 banknotes in the wallet.<\/p>\n
\"If you don't have the change, let me exchange it for you.\"<\/p>\n
\"Oh, I have the change. But then how can I give change to
\nother customers?\"<\/p>\n
\"I'll wait if you want to exchange it,\" he said again.<\/p>\n
\"No need, Oom. I'll do it later.\" I gave him two Rp 10,000
\nnotes, four Rp 5,000 notes, four Rp 1,000 notes and two Rp 500
\nnotes. \"Here's your change, Oom.\"<\/p>\n
The man counted the money, folded the notes and put them into
\nthe right-front pocket of his blue trousers. \"Thanks, Bang. Your
\nnoodles are delicious.\"<\/p>\n
I was flattered. \"Please, drop by on your way home from the
\noffice. Hope to see you again. Don't forget to tell your friends
\nto eat here.\"<\/p>\n
\"Of course, I'll tell them about your noodles.\" He walked
\ntoward his red sedan. He opened the door, got in, turned on the
\nengine and the car sped away westward.<\/p>\n
I was happy. I had a new customer. I hoped he would come to my
\ncart regularly. He was a rich man. His face was uniquely urban.
\nHis skin was fair, his hair was looked after, his clothes were
\nnice and the aroma of an expensive cologne emanated from his
\nbody. And his car, oh yes, it was a a luxury car of the latest
\nmodel.<\/p>\n
He was unlike me, my family, my parents, my parents-in-law, my
\nneighbors, the people living in this kampung, most of my regular
\ncustomers, the other noodle vendors who I stood in line with to
\nbuy supplies like uncooked noodles, chicken, chili sauce and
\ntomato sauce, salt and spices, leeks and mustard greens. Their
\nfaces were those of villagers. Their skin was dark and their hair
\nwas not well kept. Their clothes were what they could grab to
\nwear. Their bodies never smelled of perfume. They went everywhere
\nby bus or on foot.<\/p>\n
I had another customer to attend to. He was one of my
\nregulars. A young man of 20, he had been buying my noodles since
\nhe was much younger. He worked in a hypermarket not far from our
\nvillage. It had opened many months before. He said he worked as a
\nshopping cart attendant, and I saw him there one Sunday when I
\nwent to the hypermarket to buy shoes for Reza, as a gift to
\ncelebrate his graduation to the fifth grade, and also for Ryan,
\nwho had graduated to the fourth grade.<\/p>\n
Many people from my kampung worked at the hypermarket, it was
\nso close the company didn't have to worry about employees being
\nlate for work, and the employees didn't have to worry about
\nspending half of their salary on transportation.<\/p>\n
Many people from the kampung also liked to shop there because
\nit was air-conditioned and clean.<\/p>\n
\"You working the afternoon shift, Tur?\"<\/p>\n
\"The morning shift, Bang Ed. I worked overtime today. It's
\nSaturday and so crowded you can't even make your way through the
\nmarket. But I thank God because I got lots of tips today. It's
\nalways like this on Saturday and Sunday, especially when people
\nhave just got paid.\"<\/p>\n
He gave me two Rp 1,000 banknotes and a Rp 500 coin for his
\nnoodles.<\/p>\n
\"Do you have some change, Tur? So I can give change to
\ncustomers. Here's a Rp 50,000.\"<\/p>\n
\"Sure.\" He opened his bag and pulled out a small pile of Rp
\n1,000 notes. \"Already counted back at the hypermarket, Bang.\"<\/p>\n
I took the money and gave him the banknote I had received from
\nmy new customer.<\/p>\n
He took the note and rubbed it with the thumb and middle
\nfinger of his right hand. He held it up and looked at it against
\nthe light. I did not know why.<\/p>\n
\"It's fake, Bang.\"<\/p>\n
\"Hah?!\" My heart missed a beat. \"Fake? Impossible, Tur! I got
\nit from a rich person.\"<\/p>\n
\"To pay for the noodles?\"<\/p>\n
\"Yes! It can't be fake.\"<\/p>\n
\"The rich always prey on the poor, Bang.\"<\/p>\n
I felt weak all over.<\/p>\n
\"Do you remember his face?\"<\/p>\n
\"Yes! But he only came here today. He was here just before
\nyou.\"<\/p>\n
\"If he comes again, give it back and ask for a real note.\"<\/p>\n
I said nothing. I gave him back his Rp 1,000 notes and took
\nback the Rp 50,000.<\/p>\n
\"You must be really careful now.\"<\/p>\n
I could only look at the banknote.<\/p>\n
Fake? Fake money?<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
I kept looking at the Rp 50,000 note. Front and back. I
\nstudied the letters, figures, pictures and safety lines. I have
\nbeen doing this for seven days, after coming home from selling my
\nchicken noodles.<\/p>\n
Still, I couldn't believe I had received counterfeit money.<\/p>\n
Fifteen years earlier, I worked in a factory. I was only there
\na year. I asked for a raise and the company decided to fire me
\ninstead. The factory owner told me to go find somewhere to work
\nwhere they would pay a junior high school graduate like me a good
\nsalary. He said there were thousands of people who would
\nwillingly work at his factory for the salary he offered.<\/p>\n
\"I'd better quit. You pay people you can fool. I'll find a new
\njob that pays more money for someone with my education. I'll find
\na new employer who does not exploit his workers,\" I told the
\nfactory owner that day. I was 19 years old.<\/p>\n
I had been sure that he would agree to give me a Rp 7,500 a
\nmonth raise, as this amount was nothing for him but for me the
\nmoney was vital in keeping together the body and soul of my
\nfamily. My father was a bajaj driver and he didn't make enough to
\nfeed himself, my mom, my four brothers and sisters and me.<\/p>\n
I was wrong. My employer was too tightfisted. I looked for
\nanother job but nobody would pay somebody like me a good salary.
\nSo I decided to open my own business.<\/p>\n
Why is it that rich people are wicked and are never satisfied?
\nWhy don't they ever stop exploiting poor people like me? Do they
\nprey upon us because of our sheer ignorance? Do they prey upon us
\nbecause we are weak and because in their eyes we are born to be
\nexploited and preyed upon?<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
I looked at this Rp 50,000 note many times. Front and bank. I
\ncarefully observed its letters, figures, pictures and safety
\nlines. I have been doing this for 11 days, after coming home from
\nselling my chicken noodles.<\/p>\n
Well, I worked hard for this money. I still can't believe I
\nreceived a fake banknote.<\/p>\n
For many days when I left home to sell my noodles, I put the
\nmoney under the newspaper on which I put the uncooked noodles in
\nmy cart. I waited for the rich man to come again, but he never
\nturned up. Six months passed since he bought my noodles.<\/p>\n
Then one day I had a new customer, a woman. She gave me a Rp
\n100,000 banknote to pay for three bowls of noodles that she and
\ntwo of her friends had.<\/p>\n
\"Anything smaller, Tante?\"<\/p>\n
\"No, Bang. It's all I have.\" She opened her purse and showed
\nme its contents. \"Come on, have a look.\"<\/p>\n
My eyes grew bigger and my mouth watered. Rp 100,000
\nbanknotes. Clean and new.<\/p>\n
\"Please change it, Bang.\"<\/p>\n
\"No need. Take your money. You don't need to pay me.\"<\/p>\n
\"Is it really all right with you?\"<\/p>\n
\"That's OK.\"<\/p>\n
\"Do you have Rp 7,500, Mel?\"<\/p>\n
Her friend shook her head. \"I only have Rp 100,000 notes.\"<\/p>\n
\"You, Tris?\"<\/p>\n
Tris also shook her head. \"I don't have any small change.\"<\/p>\n
\"It's all right, Tante. Take your money. I mean it.\"<\/p>\n
The woman took her purse, opened it and put back the banknote.
\n\"Thanks. Your noodles are really delicious.\"<\/p>\n
\"You're welcome.\" I smiled. \"Hope you come again. Don't forget
\nto bring small change.\"<\/p>\n
\"I'll tell my friends at the office about your noodles.\" She
\nwent to her luxury car along with her two friends. She opened the
\ndoor, got in and turned on the engine. The car sped away to the
\neast.<\/p>\n
That was the first time I made a donation to a rich person.
\nIt's much better than allowing the rich to suck my blood.<\/p>\n
Bang : older brother (intimate);
\nOom : uncle;
\nsemur : meat cooked in soy sauce;
\nbajaj : motorized three-wheeled pedicab;
\nTante : aunt<\/p>\n
Translated by Lie Hua<\/p>", "url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/a-rp-50000-banknote-1447893297", "image": "" }, "sponsor": "Okusi Associates", "sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com" }