On local 'standards' or rather their absence<\/p>\n
JAKARTA (JP): To survive in beautiful Indonesia, there are a
\nnumber of grim realities you have to watch out for. Being able to
\ncomprehend the standards, rules and social mores -- or lack
\nthereof -- of some of the people is one of them.<\/p>\n
You are confronted with this feature the very moment you
\narrive in Indonesia and grab a taxi from the airport to your
\nhotel.<\/p>\n
For the same price you can get either the very best or the
\nvery worst service.<\/p>\n
You might be lucky and meet a friendly cabby. He salutes you
\ncourteously in English and puts your luggage into the trunk of
\nthe taxi. The taxi is clean, cool, with a complementary local
\nnewspaper waiting for you on the back seat. The taxi drives off,
\nhumming smoothly down the road, not a gasket out of place. The
\ndriver switches the argometer on and asks you where you want to
\ngo. He finds the shortest way to take you to your destination. He
\ninforms you on what is available in the city. This conversation
\nisn't in Oxford-English but he gets his message across. When you
\nreach your hotel, he charges you the standard fee for the ride,
\nreturns the exact change and leaves you with a smile, even though
\nyou didn't have enough change to tip him.<\/p>\n
For the same price you might get a ride to hell.<\/p>\n
A rattling taxi with a loose rear wheel squeals up to the curb
\nand stops. You decide to take your chances and hop in. After all,
\nhow bad can it be? The driver doesn't help you because his door
\nwon't open. It's been welded to the frame for reasons he will not
\ndivulge.<\/p>\n
As you sit down your haunches are impaled on a mass of rusty
\ncoils and springs sticking out of the torn upholstery and you
\ninstinctively scream like a schoolgirl and lurch forward,
\nslamming your face against the door.<\/p>\n
Marquis die Sadie, pass by.<\/p>\n
The unshaven and smelly driver greets you with incoherent
\ngrumbling.<\/p>\n
Alas, your journey to hell has begun.<\/p>\n
As the taxi rattles off, bouncing up and down like an out-of-
\nwhack automaton, you're now wondering what part of the vehicle
\nwill drop off first.<\/p>\n
The AC isn't working. The driver asks you where you want to go
\nand you tell him -- over and over and over again. There is no
\nreaction from the driver, however. Only a vague nod. You assume
\nhe understands you. Only then do you realize that the meter is
\non. The question is, for how long has it been on? At the very
\nworst, he isn't using the argometer.<\/p>\n
It is only now, when you are in the middle of nowhere that he
\ninforms you of the enormous fee you will have to pay him.
\nDepending on your disposition, you either turn red with fury or
\nturn white with panic. Thus, you settle for the standard
\nManhattan-Kennedy Airport fee. You are caught in the journey to
\nhell Part Two. Your backside is beginning to boil because the
\nseat is resting over the overheated gearbox. The way it grinds
\nand wheezes, you know that the gearbox's teeth were pawned off on
\nthe tooth fairy many, many moons ago.<\/p>\n
Eventually, you find yourself in a slum area far from your
\nintended destination. No, you tell him, this isn't it. The driver
\nnods and off you go again. Another hour passes, then the cab
\nstops and the driver looks back at you and grins . . . This is
\nnot the place where you wanted to be. Apparently there are
\nvarious streets and hotels with the same names but in completely
\ndifferent areas. Journey to hell Part Three.<\/p>\n
You have already paid for three toll roads. Then the taxi runs
\nout of gas. It is getting dark. You start asking strangers for
\nhelp.<\/p>\n
When you finally reach your destination the fare is about the
\nsame as you would have paid in Geneva. Meanwhile, the taxi driver
\ninsists on a bigger tip because of all the work involved in
\ngetting you safely to your destination.<\/p>\n
The same is true in daily life. You may be lucky and find a
\nsecretary who is smart and well-educated. She will anticipate
\nyour needs and have your papers ready by the time you arrive at
\nthe office in the morning. She will not complain when you ask her
\nto work overtime because the accounts have to be closed.<\/p>\n
But you might also be unlucky and not find the "obligatory"
\nbusiness partner. The one that you finally end up with is a
\nhighly recommended retired army man. His age and seniority should
\nguarantee the influence he claims to have. You pay him a fee
\naccordingly. But his connections appear to be in the wrong line
\nof business altogether. An honest mistake? Your partner tells you
\nhe needs money for transportation, cigarettes and so on.<\/p>\n
Weeks and months pass. You have had the pleasure of copping
\nmeals for most of his family but you're getting nowhere.
\nMiscommunication and misunderstandings have to be ironed out.
\nYour visa and the temporary permits on which you started your
\nbusiness soon expire and the extensions are difficult to obtain.<\/p>\n
If by some meager chance you get a deal or license, your
\npartner's share of the pie increases dramatically and it makes
\nyou wonder why you came to this country in the first place.<\/p>\n
In the West there are set standards. Taxis and taxi drivers
\nmust meet a number of minimum requirements. If they fail to do so
\nthey do not get licenses. In Indonesia there are still too many
\nunscrupulous and incapable people running "professional services"
\nand trades protected by government licenses. Too often people buy
\nor pay bribes for these licenses or positions.<\/p>\n
Companies do get the ISO2000, and reputable schools and
\ncompanies do provide top quality goods and services, but they are
\nstill too much the exception. Let us hope that the "reformasi
\nspirit" will help eradicate these bad habits.<\/p>\n
-- Philippe Lyssens<\/p>", "url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/on-local-standards-or-rather-their-absence-1447893297", "image": "" }, "sponsor": "Okusi Associates", "sponsor_url": "https:\/\/okusiassociates.com" }