Employees count their losses from rampaging mobs
By Ati Nurbaiti
TANGERANG (JP): A lone bust of a mannequin guarded the entrance to what remains of gutted Borobudur Plaza on Jl. Dewi Sartika, Ciputat.
Barely a week ago, the male figure may have sported a chic shirt and jeans. Now, it was draped in an old jeans jacket and similarly jaded red-and-white flag. Although worse for wear, it faced passersby, seemingly symbolizing the feelings of the building's employees; they, too, wanted the best for their country, but instead had become unwitting victims.
Underneath the mannequin was a yellow strip of cloth with black letters in ink, saying: "You have burned our place down, where are we supposed to work?"
"We put up the other banners, too, just to show our feelings," a worker at Borobudur Plaza said. A banner at a nearby razed department store -- "bent like a candle," noted a passerby -- read, "Enjoy your loot and suffer in hell".
About 1,000 employees of the plaza and its tenants including the Century Theater, Gunung Agung bookstore, California Fried Chicken and Mitra supermarket suddenly found themselves staring into an uncertain future when a mob set fire to the building.
The plaza and nearby Ramayana department store were only a few of the buildings destroyed on the afternoon of Thursday, May 14, in the Ciputat area bordering Jakarta and Tangerang.
In neighboring Pamulang, shops fared no better, although a few hundred students from Serpong reportedly helped to safeguard several buildings.
As in many emerging small towns, the department stores incorporating food outlets and entertainment centers were set up to meet the needs of a growing market. Borobudur was established here in 1991.
"Some 10,000 packed Borobudur on weekends alone," said Raymond Kulia, manager of the Borobudur Plaza, as he sat in the parking lot with tenants and young employees. Not all would actually open their wallets, particularly since the crisis, he said.
Movie tickets at these department stores were still Rp 2,500 to Rp 6,000, where one could see any movie of the month with slightly less comfort than theaters in malls.
Residents were just beginning to enjoy the feeling of joining the ranks of "modern" people; the new Ciputat market had clothes stores but it was to these department stores that members of the middle to low income groups went if there was money to spend.
Refuge
There were lights, blaring music, squeaky-clean floors brimming with fashionable clothes and gadgets and, of course, the wall-to-wall air-conditioning. It was a refuge from the filthy surroundings and the notorious traffic of the area.
Once outside, youngsters would again happily dodge traffic, smog and garbage, proudly toting plastic bags with the department store logos. Never mind that these bags were often slim, containing only one new blouse, pair of jeans or T-shirt.
Preteens -- known locally as Anak Baru Gede or ABG -- would visit with just enough money to buy a McDonald's burger and ice cream.
Nevertheless, it is the employees who feel the greatest loss. They were breadwinners for their families, earning a few hundred thousand each month. In their smart uniforms, neighbors could see them leaving for work each day while many of their peers were still jobless.
Raymond confirmed it had been difficult keeping business during the crisis, even with the famed all-year discounts at such department stores.
"People's buying power has been declining," he said.
He assured that the monthly wages of employees would continue to be paid, at least for the first few months. But he was unsure of the fate of other Borobudur outlets and employees had yet to learn the management's decision on possible work transfers.
The Indonesian Retail Merchants Association reports estimated losses of about Rp 600 billion from looting and arson -- and most insurance policies do not cover the risks.
"Most of my employees are married, and most of them have to pay their rent," Raymond said.
Titi, a newly married 22-year-old, said her job at the Gunung Agung bookstore of the past four years was her first. She was renting a place in a nearby housing complex. Her husband works in Karawang, West Java, as a teacher, but with the competition for jobs, Titi did not dare to try to live with her husband and look for a job in that town.
Depending solely on her husband for the family income was out of the question.
Luckily, perhaps, they do not have children to feed yet.
"Didn't you manage to get one the last time?" teased her friend, a young father of a first-grade elementary student. The others managed a laugh.
But then they returned to the horror stories about when they first saw the ruins.
"I just cried ... How could they?" one woman said. Nothing made sense to them. Main targets of rioters were stores believed to be owned by ethnic Chinese tycoons, but no one bothered to think of the employees.
With nowhere to go, employees, most of them women, listlessly gathered around the ruins of where they used to work, and where they occasionally got a free ticket to the movies.
Elsewhere, the same scene of milling employees was evident, such as around the ruins of Hero supermarket on the first day after the presidential succession. There was little reason to celebrate in these parts.
"We just feel a bit safer now," a motorbike taxi driver said. "Maybe things will pick up now President (B.J.) Habibie is in charge."