A case of cutting corners

I was running through a red light when all of a sudden, a police officer on a motorbike appeared out of nowhere and gave chase. Within seconds, the high-powered motorbike caught up and its rider motioned for me to pull over.

It was close to midnight.

I wondered how the policeman had learned of my violation so quickly -- after all, I had spied no police in the vicinity when I made my reckless dash through the intersection. (I found out later that many policemen hide behind trees, waiting to catch a traffic violator in the act.)

"Good evening, Sir. May I see your driving license and motorbike registration papers?" he asked politely.

I did not reply and merely complied quickly, extracting the requested documents from my wallet.

The policeman took them and glanced through the papers. Silently, he started writing a ticket.

I remained quiet and still, not wanting to disturb him nor offer a bribe, even though I knew some policemen let traffic offenders go for a "fee" of Rp 20,000.

"Please come to the South Jakarta District Court on the date noted here. You will be tried with others," he said, handing me the ticket. My driver's license, he kept.

I memorized the date of my trial, two weeks from now, and rode home, vowing not to break any more traffic regulations.

Since riding a motorbike is the most efficient way to cut through the congested roads of Jakarta, I continued riding mine during the two weeks until the trial -- without a license.

I couldn't wait until the trial, so I could get it over with.

The day came, a Thursday, and although I had expected solemn proceedings, the district court didn't appear ominous at all when I arrived.

As soon as I had parked my motorbike, a young fellow in a T- shirt approached me.

"You want to reclaim your driver's license, don't you? I can help," he said.

Trying to follow the rules as I had promised myself, I declined the offer: "No, thanks. I've come here for a different purpose."

Although I had previously been assigned to the South Jakarta District Court beat, I could not locate the courtroom that held traffic violation trails. I ended up checking the courtrooms one by one.

Ah, here it was. About 50 people -- with some kind of a coupon in their hands -- were seated in a courtroom in the left wing of the building. I entered, noticing that I seemed to be the only one without a coupon.

The presiding judge called for the first offender to be heard.

"You realize the mistake you made, don't you? Do not repeat it mistake, because violating traffic regulations not only harms you, but also others. Do you understand?" the judge asked.

"The court charges you with committing a traffic violation under the Traffic Law, and are fined Rp 20,900 (US$2.24)."

Then the judge summoned the second man.

Worrying that I might be the last one to be called, I asked a man where he got the coupon. He told me to exchange the ticket from the police for a coupon at a locket in the corner.

I went to the locket, where about 15 people stood in line. I handed my ticket to the policeman in the locket, hoping he would give me a coupon.

To my surprise, he gave me back my driver's license and asked that I pay Rp 30,000 in return.

Recovering from my initial shock, I pulled out my wallet, paid the Rp 30,000, and got my driving license back.

I felt like a loser.

But then again, it was a work day, I reasoned -- trying to feel better about the situation. I had no time to wait until all 50 traffic offenders had been called and heard. I had to work. It would be more productive if I did my job instead of witnessing all the mess at court.

Speaking of which, I was running late to chase down my story for the day -- I needed to fly like the wind. -- Kurniawan Hari