Oh! Bahasa Indonesia, it's so easy<\/p>\n
By G.S. Edwin<\/p>\n
JAKARTA (JP): I've come across a lot of people who proudly
\nutter, "Oh, it's so easy." Mention "computer" to one of them,
\nthen comes "Oh, it's so easy."<\/p>\n
For God's sake, how? Then, they put you in place: The computer
\nknows you are an ignoramus. So, it tells you all that is to be
\ndone. The implied -- can anything be more easy? -- is almost as
\nbad as a slap.<\/p>\n
I am one of those at the opposite end of things. In my range
\nof experience, nothing is easy, much less "so easy". So, to me,
\n"oh, it's so easy" is an odious, overused expression. A stand-in
\nfor fatuity, not flamboyance as the conceited would fancy.<\/p>\n
When I arrived in Indonesia, wherever I went, the refrain was
\n"Oh, Indonesian, it's so easy." Strangely, I fell for this swoop.
\nThe clincher was what a hostess, an old Indonesian hand, said:
\n"In Indonesian, context, not words is the key.<\/p>\n
So, a combination of an expressive mime and even the use of a
\nfew unrelated words, in the manner of spoken shorthand, are
\nenough to communicate." This proclaimed genius of Indonesian,
\nthough from rank outsiders, got me. I was expecting the context
\nto do the trick.<\/p>\n
Soon, I discovered that the expression "oh, it's so easy" was
\na cliche in the case of Indonesian too. When I used the language
\nfor the first time, the invisible but the vaunted and vibrant
\nconnection between context and Bahasa was not there.<\/p>\n
One day I was in a hurry to go to the office. I spoke the key
\nword kantor and then used appropriate gestures like an exuberant
\nboth thumbs-up, and considerable rolling of eyes to amplify the
\ncontext and communicate "today, let's get cracking fast." My
\ndriver smiled broadly as if our wavelengths had fused. A little
\nlater, when I rushed down, he was busy polishing the car and the
\ncar was facing the wrong direction.<\/p>\n
Dismayed, I had to put in a bit of spot running to bridge the
\ncommunication gap and make the context more vivid. This time, he
\nguffawed, as if a little earlier, there was a wrong fusion of
\nwavelengths.<\/p>\n
Later, he told my wife that he had taken my gestures to mean:
\ngo all the way for "a spit and polish" treatment for the car and
\nhad added gratuitously "I thought Tuan wanted to give a buildup
\nto our company riding in a gleaming car."<\/p>\n
On another occasion, a confrontational context unwittingly had
\na tame ending. My car stopped at a light in Menteng.
\nUnfortunately, the car doors were not locked. Suddenly, a gang of
\nsinging, clapping and swaying transvestites got into the car.
\nThere was a crisis. I gestured, they quieted and waited for
\nparleys to begin.<\/p>\n
But, how to start the parleying? The tutor book on Indonesian
\nwas inside the glove compartment. With hardly any words but with
\nfrantic gestures I signaled my driver to take out the book. The
\ndriver, unnerved by the stench and menace inside the car
\ntactlessly lunged across.<\/p>\n
The street smart guests, sullen by now, not clearly knowing
\nwhat was going on, panicked and thought that I had asked my
\ndriver to take out the gun. They rough handled the driver and
\npushed him out of the car.<\/p>\n
When the guests in the rear were absorbed watching the melee
\nin the front, I slipped out of the car. With both of us out,
\nthose still inside the car seemed like abandoned cargo.
\nSheepishly, they got out of the car.<\/p>\n
There are harmless contexts which go terribly against you
\nbecause you just don't have the right words. Once, I needed five
\n100 rupiah notes. So, in the Sari Pacific cake shop, I gave a 500
\nrupiah note to the cash register girl and it seems asked for five
\n1,000 rupiah notes.<\/p>\n
It was a simple case of confusion between ratus (hundred) and
\nribu (thousand). Any other girl would have giggled and hammered
\nthe absurdity. But, not this one. Stern and matronly looking and
\nlacking in sense of humor, the context simply went above her
\nhead. She thought either I was a nut or acting fresh and brought
\nthe roof down.<\/p>\n
There was, however, one memorable occasion where the context
\npulled its full weight, with barely any exchange of words. I shot
\nthrough a red light, a case of bad judgment. The ever alert
\nJakarta cop whistled me down. He was hard. I was dumb.<\/p>\n
Then, the universal language that transcends boundaries took
\nover: I apologized using the word maaf profusely and sincerely.
\nThe cop disarmingly grinned. Probably, this was the first time an
\nexpat had apologized to him so sincerely instead of giving him a
\npecuniary treatment.<\/p>\n
So, we saluted and went our ways. I could not help recalling
\nthat whenever the word "cop" came up, the chorus would be "oh,
\nit's so easy..... ." Anyway, not always.<\/p>\n
Now, whenever I hear this, I protest: "Don't say so. It
\ndestroys confidence, creates a mental block and makes an expat
\nIndonesian-retarded." This was usually dismissed as ranting.<\/p>\n
Unexpectedly, David, a new arrival, startled me with a
\nconfession. One day, his secretary asked permission to go some
\nplace during office time. After nodding his head, by way of small
\ntalk, he asked "are you going alone?"<\/p>\n
"No," she said, and brightly added "I am going with myself."
\nDavid wailed. "Imagine me telling her 'oh, English, it's so
\neasy.'"<\/p>\n
Impressed by his contrition, I gallantly gave him a hand.
\n"David, your secretary was not all that wrong. Perhaps, she spoke
\nAmerican English. When Americans invite you, they hardly say
\n"please come". It's mostly "Hey you, bring yourself, OK."<\/p>\n
Quaint, perhaps, but feisty all right. Anyway, I was happy for
\nDavid. Now, we are two souls passionately sharing the belief that
\ninasmuch as there is no free lunch, there is also no -- anything
\n-- easy, either.<\/p>",
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