Can we say it like it is in Bahasa Indonesia?

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon at a Jakarta hotel promotion for food from a neighboring land when a sudden flurry of words breaks through the clanking of cutlery on plates.

It's not just the unusual sight of the rather large Indonesian woman in front of us venting her anger, very Western-style, at the waitress (a waiter had overlooked asking her if she wanted soup from the buffet ... go figure) that intrigues me.

It's her words that get me going.

She uses a smattering of Indonesian here, some English there, in trying to get her point across loud and clear. She says things like "seharusnya" (should have) to state that the offending waiter should have saved her from having to waddle over to the soup stand, but then concluded her tirade with the definitive "I don't want to talk about it anymore, you've spoiled my lunch". That said, it doesn't stop her going back for more.

What interested me was how she went back and forth, finally relying on English, a second language, to express herself. As a sometime student of Indonesian, it makes sense. You can say a lot in Indonesian, but when you really want to let fly, to let go with the expletives and the accusatory words, then Indonesian comes up short in weaponry (although, all of the dialects in the archipelago are suitably equipped).

Of course, Indonesian is an "artificial" language, taken from the Malay language, which was once used to unite the peoples traveling and trading throughout the islands. In that sense, at its basic level, it can at times seem very dry, unemotional, the somewhat impersonal language of peoples brought together by circumstance.

It's hard, for instance, to say "I love you" in Indonesian without sounding like a syrupy TV ad, a soap opera actor or the title of that late 1980s hit by Harry Mukti, popular when I was studying here on a scholarship. And you can say "I'm pissed at you" in so many ways in English, but in Indonesian "marah" just doesn't have the same impact.

But Indonesian works for people like me, foreigners, because in a sense everybody is a non-native speaker of Indonesian. We are all in the same boat in learning it and, if you put your mind to it, ordinary conversational Indonesian is not too much of a headache compared to the rigors of grammar and gerunds in other foreign tongues.

And I hate to think how I would do, with my average Indonesian, if Indonesia had actually opted for Javanese (all those levels!) or, say, Sundanese, when the country became independent.

That's why I also feel a bit protective of Indonesian. When a TV newscaster on that colorful all-news station says that the police will try to "menyetop" demonstrators from advancing, I cringe at the bastardization of the language. Sure, at times resorting to the number one language of the world will do, but not when there are plenty of Indonesian words -- or even just one -- which will suffice.

It's a great experience when you hear a really articulate speaker of Indonesian, or you read a beautifully written passage of the language. I remember several years ago trying to get through Umar Kayam's Para Priyayi, and being rewarded by the stunning, moving passages.

But times change, and so must a language. The new group of Indonesian writers, people like Dewi Lestari (couldn't get through all of Supernova but it made an impression) and Ayu Utami, illustrate that Indonesian can evolve into something dynamic and new, with the addition of words both borrowed and new, without changing its very essence.

If all of us, from foreigners to Indonesians, are open to the changes, to take the development of the language in stride, then Indonesian will continue to be the language that is spoken here.

-- Craig Whitaker