A place to stay
A teenager was being driven through a clean, tidy residential area on the Jakarta's outskirts and said, "Hey I could live here, how come it's not macet?", referring to Jakarta's dreadful traffic jams. Bliss is a single day here without congested roads, and she had been living a whole week of it. She saw wide shady roads and morning joggers in the park, accessible eateries, signs to public swimming pools and welcoming, colorful banners -- although they were distracting to drivers in their spirited promotion of new clusters of homes and an automotive bazaar.
The atmosphere showed that things are alive and well and growing in the satellite cities after the economic crisis peak in 1998, as the recent series on the subject in this newspaper suggests.
Long before 1998, we had seen the rapid growth of these new towns, drawing controversy over the buying out of low-priced land from locals, and criticism over the self-claimed labels of "satellite cities" as they were far from "self contained" -- a key criteria for a satellite city -- with their commuters actually causing even more congestion. They also drew ridicule over some of their concepts, gaudy designs and for naming the housing estates after European cities.
But the areas have no doubt proved to be an alternative for families sick of crowded provincial capitals and for new and retiring couples, with schools and hospitals being within easy reach. They have become living laboratories of behavioral change with property development companies intent on, for example, keeping the streets clean. If Indonesians are made to feel embarrassed about throwing food and trash out of their trendy sedans, it is only because they sense they are residents of a reputable area, then this is progress indeed.
More sensitive is the experiment on how the cities can balance the needs of the rich and poor, in their own interests of keeping the peace, not only within the towns, but also with residents of the kampongs, which are their closest neighbors. Such experiences should become valuable lessons for any other residential areas where some posh locals try to distinguish themselves by various means from the "kampong people."
Indeed the property development companies also expects the government to do more of its share, such as building and maintaining major roads and providing comfortable public transportation for everyone. One property manager once spoke for many others when he said that there is only so much the private sector can do, pointing to Kuala Lumpur's satellite city of Putra Jaya -- now Malaysia's proud administrative capital -- which benefited from early government-provided infrastructure.
But commuters in filthy, crammed trains should be forgiven if they feel that the property management companies, who must have profited all these years from their big estates and satellite cities, could do much more, other than provide reliable, decent trains only for the well to do. It is essential to these growing towns that the poor are not left out, which becomes the unintended message if public facilities are perceived to be only directed at those who can afford to pay for it.
And with the introduction of regional autonomy, the private companies in charge have the extra challenge, and opportunity, of helping to facilitate the cooperation between competing authorities flush with new-found powers. In their locations bordering poor regencies and provinces, the residents would be caught in between if local authorities blame each other on issues of flooding, for instance.
Like several of the world's cities, satellite cities are inevitable and even can become new, vibrant areas. In the towns popping up all around Jakarta, international schools have moved into the new towns and new universities have sprouted up. On the road, heads turn in envy at the sight of comfortable buses plying the route to and from the new towns.
The residents can thank the development companies and also their designers for their brilliant vision, meticulous planning and monitoring of the construction of the cities. With continued dedication -- and sensitivity -- the areas will hopefully be real satellite cities, where most residents also work in them, and where poor locals do not feel alienated outside the malls and mansions, and 10-meter high walls.