Fairs chase big profits before another hard year

TANGERANG, West Java (JP): The Idul Fitri holiday is the best time for carousel, or fairground, business.

It rains everyday, muddying the fields, but there is still high hope for owners and their staff after a long, listless fasting month.

This week in Pondok Betung, a village bordering Bintaro, South Jakarta and Tangerang, up to 300 spectators in one session alone crowded just one attraction, the daredevil motorbikes. But during Ramadhan there were days when not one ticket was sold, and not one of the employees paid.

People were saving for celebrations, or, as one fair owner said, "were protecting themselves from neighbors who might chide them for playing around instead of praying at home."

Strategically situated on a soccer field next to a main road, the Mitra Jaya fair easily pulled the crowds. A bazaar and dozens of vendors selling "Walls" ice cream, traditional candy floss and irresistible toys supplemented the ferris wheel, the ghost house, and other rides.

Fair managers say there are about 20 fairs in Greater Jakarta, mostly from Klaten, Central Java.

Sensing competition, local authorities charge high rents for fields.

Yesterday the Pondok Betung fair owner, Joko, said he paid Rp 7 million (US$2,922.76) for two weeks, compared to Rp 5 million last year. Originally the authorities had asked for Rp 10 million.

Joko is from Klaten. His wife Ngadmi was busy selling ferris wheel tickets. All the tickets were Rp 1,000 each.

"After four days (from Sunday, the first day of Idul Fitri) we'll go back to Rp 800," Joko said.

His wife said that on Monday 40 books of tickets, or 4,000 tickets, were sold.

Joko said he was able to pay up to Rp 80,000 to each of his 31 workers that day, the most in a long time, and likely the most for a long while to come.

Fairs never stop. They are constantly on the road, though owners know full well takings of up to a million a day happen only about once a year.

"When my husband was still working for another fair owner we experienced what it was like not being paid for days. We had just enough to eat for each day," Ngadmi said, gold bangles jingling on her arm. For the past two years Joko has been his own boss, after leaving his job with Sidik.

Sidik inherited his business from his father, Siswo Sanjono, the pioneer of carousel enterprises in Klaten in the late 1960s.

Joko and Ngadmi, both elementary school drop-outs, now have an 18-year-old daughter studying business management at a private university. Entrance fees and the first year's tuition cost them Rp 6 million.

"Our children must be better than us," Ngadmi said. "We went through hard times because we didn't have a good education."

Joko learned the business thoroughly from Pak Sidik.

Running a fair means not only being able to approach authorities for permits, but also to identify different local habits, and when people are most likely to go to a fair.

In Lampung, South Sumatra, where Jakarta-based fairs often venture, the best time is after harvests of rice, coffee, cane, clove, and other crops.

In Greater Jakarta, fairs are best held after the 25th of each month in middle class residential areas where people get monthly salaries.

Near factories, a weekend fair has good prospects after workers have received their weekly wages and overtime pay.

Although Jakartans have many recreational options, Joko was confident there would always be a market for fairs.

"Only the better off go to places (like Ancol)," he said.

When Joko wanted to expand his business. He sought loans from relatives and borrowed Rp 25 million from a local unit of the state-run BRI bank.

Now he has another fair, which he managed by buying the attractions one by one. The cost of a six-ride fair is over Rp 100 million. The ferris wheel and the six-meter-high "barrel" for the daredevil motorbike show cost Rp 22 million each.

Joko still has debts. "When you run a fair, there's no driving spirit to reach a target if you don't have any debts," he said.

The bank unit advised him to seek more credit at the BRI branch.

"But for that you need a business license. What's the use of a business license if the neighborhood head doesn't issue a permit?" Joko said.

His wish now is to own a welding workshop.

"I'm embarrassed when I meet classmates from elementary days," he said. One works at the Ministry of Health and another teaches at a university.

Joko flunked school when it was time for final exams, because of "economic pressures". He and his brother shared a single pair of trousers.

"But now all I want is to run this business well and create more employment," Joko said. (anr)