Be prepared for rains in Jakarta, otherwise...

Be prepared for rains in Jakarta, otherwise...

By Julie L. Litchfield

JAKARTA (JP): As much as I am enjoying my time here in
Indonesia, I must admit to experiencing a bit of culture shock. I
came to Jakarta from a small town -- about the population of two
Jakarta-bound buses from Bogor on a Sunday afternoon. I come from
a place where people complain about the traffic because sometimes
it takes 15 minutes to get from one end of town to the other;
people complain about the air quality on some cold mornings,
because the smoke from wood stoves slightly grays their view of
the snow on the mountain. I come from a place where we drink
water straight from the canal.

But naturally I expected to find differences upon moving to a
big, tropical city on the other side of the world. I did my
reading before coming here, so I was at least a little prepared
to face change. While some of these changes took time to get used
to, other differences were welcome pleasantries. Overall, I am
thrilled and fascinated by the very different life I have found
here. There is, however, one cultural shock for which no
guidebook even attempted to prepare me: umbrellas.

I'm not implying that I have never seen an umbrella. Rain is
not a new thing for me. I've been rained on in two hemispheres,
thirteen countries, nineteen U.S. states, and countless numbers
of counties and cities. I've been rained on while riding my bike,
while playing tennis, while camping, while watching football
games, while eating, while on my way to work, while at the beach.
You name the event, it has rained while I have done it. I know
rain, and I do know about umbrellas. I even brought my own
umbrellas from home. But until last week when I loaned it to a
friend, it still wore the original shrink-wrap it was covered in
when given to me on my fifteenth birthday. Plenty of people at
home have umbrellas, and plenty of people give umbrellas. But
where I come from, umbrellas are like fruitcakes: everybody has
one or gives one, but nobody likes them enough to put them to the
intended use.

So you see, one primary difference here is that I've never
seen so many people in one place who are actually prepared with
their umbrellas when the drops begin to fall. Now, before you
accuse me of cultural rigidity, consider the factors which makes
this a difficult situation.

Umbrella

Consider that Jakarta is one of the most densely populated
cities in the world. Now place yourself amidst the foot traffic
by Jl. Jend. Sudirman at 5 p.m. -- one of the most densely
populated sidewalks of one of the most densely populated cities
in the world. Now take that dense population (mind you, these are
well prepared people), add a hearty tropical rainstorm, and stand
back. Within seconds, you are awash in the most dense population
of umbrellas anywhere. Now consider that each umbrella
has...what? Eight spokes? Each ending in a sharp tip.

It gets worse. Back home, my height is fairly average. So even
if people around me have thought to arm themselves with
umbrellas, the average height of these umbrella-carriers is
usually comparable to mine. Therefore, the spokes of this
umbrellas are usually above my head. Here, things are a bit
different. As is the case with most expatriates, I'm a tad taller
than the average Indonesian. In other words, the average umbrella
spoke traveling through these crowds rides just at about -- now
you're with me -- blinding range.

My proposed solution? Well, after carefully examining the
issue, I considered the reasons why I have never before had
nightmares about umbrella spokes chasing me from all directions.
Dense population and height differences aside, it occurred to me
that I have never experienced this sort of pervasive umbrella use
because in every place I have previously experienced rain, it
makes sense to wear a raincoat. Assuming that the intention is to
ward off rain rather than a cleverly disguised act of random
violence, the soft hood of a waterproof jacket can do all the
work of an umbrella. But a jacket in Indonesia? Obviously not the
solution.

So what I came up with was something along the lines of a
three in one rule. You are probably aware that in an attempt to
reduce rush hour traffic problems, the government has closed
Jakarta's Golden Triangle (formed by Jl. Jend. Sudirman, Jl.
Rasuna Said and Jl. Gatot Subroto) to cars carrying fewer than
three passengers. I propose that, in an attempt to prevent
unnecessary blindness, or at the very least, to reduce the number
of umbrella spoke wounds, a similar rule be enacted for umbrella
use during certain times. Make the sidewalks safe again. Close
the areas to umbrellas carrying fewer than three people.

Okay, okay. I may be asking a bit much, especially considering
that we who live in fear of umbrellas are probably a rather small
minority. But until my "It's-all-fun-and-games-until-somebody-
loses-an-eye" support group becomes a significant political
force, I feel that at the very least, it is my duty to issue a
warning: come prepared with umbrellas if you must. But if it
looks like rain is on the horizon, don't leave home without your
protective eyewear.