Homecoming obliterates memory of nightmare trip

Homecoming obliterates memory of nightmare trip

By Johannes Simbolon

JAKARTA (JP): It was dark. The only sound came from the train's wheels rolling along the track and the ceaseless rain pounding the carriage roof.

Night was advancing. Ali Al Husein, 31, heaved a sigh of relief.

Hours earlier, the night fish trader and his family of four were among a large crowd at the Senen railway station in Central Jakarta, waiting for the Mataremaja economy class train that would carry them to Malang, East Java.

Ali's wife, Rumani, 30, and his brother-in-law Sukirwan, 28, stood close to the children and their luggage. The children, wearing new clothes, ignored the crowd around them and happily played on the dirty floor.

It was a struggle to get to the train station.

The family left their home in Jelambar, West Jakarta in a bajaj (three-wheeled motorized vehicle). The small vehicle, which can usually hold three passengers, was bursting with bodies. Ali, his wife, and Sukirwan occupied the seat. Two of his children stood behind the driver while two others sat on their parents' laps. The six bags were somehow stashed under their feet.

"We did not go by taxi because Susan (Santi Susana, 13, the eldest child) always feels sick in taxis and buses," Sumani explained.

The train did not leave until 2 p.m., but the family, like many other homebound travelers, had been waiting since early in the morning. The earlier they arrived at the station, they thought, the more chance of securing a seat on the train.

Nobody wanted to repeat the past experience of lying in the train's aisles or sitting in the putrid toilet for the 18-hour journey.

For seven days before Idul Fitri, the state-owned railway company Perumka sells an unlimited number of tickets instead of by the number of seats. This is to accommodate people with one thing one their minds: to be home for Idul Fitri. They are willing to sacrifice anything, including convenience.

"We know it's inhuman, but selling an unlimited number of tickets is the only thing we can do since people always force themselves into the train although it is already very packed," reasoned Socheh, the deputy chief of the Senen station.

The dream of returning home seems more powerful than the wish to be treated humanely.

"We have gone home by train every Idul Fitri since 1985," said Ali.

Ali, a Betawi, is a native of Tangerang. An orphan since childhood, he is happy celebrating Idul Fitri in his wife's home village of Pandanrejo, 30 kilometers west of Malang.

"There the celebrations last for above a week, not just one day like in Jakarta. We visit all the relatives and eat at every house we visit," he said.

This year, the family was accompanied by Sukirwan, who lives with them and works as truck driver for a Taiwanese company in North Jakarta. Sukirman usually goes home alone after Idul Fitri.

Sukirwan returns home once a year, not only to meet his father and mother and other relatives, but also his beloved wife. A Jakarta native, his wife prefers living in Pandanrejo and works as a farmer.

At 2:00 p.m., the train began its long journey. With still seven days to go before Idul Fitri, it wasn't packed. Nonetheless, all the seats were taken.

As the train moved, Ali and his wife recalled how painful the past train journeys had been.

"We once ended up sleeping in the toilet since it was the only space available. We locked up the lavatory from inside so that no one could get in, unfolded the mat and covered the toilet with used newspapers. Anyway, we could sleep," Ali recalled.

He also related how difficult life is for night fish traders like him. In the morning, he buys the fish at the Muara Angke and Muara Baru fish markets and takes the goods to the Kebun Pisang marketplace in Jelambar by bike. There, he sells the fish until the sun comes up.

"While people are sleeping, I am at work," he said, claiming to earn around Rp 10,000 a day.

Many people find it hard to understand why a man who earns so little willingly spends Rp 1 million for the trip and the Idul Fitri celebrations at home. But then, many things in life are beyond comprehension.

It rained throughout the journey. The train trudged across the green paddies of lush Java.

In Cikampek, the train made a brief stop. Ali bought six bunches of rambutan for Rp 7,500 to give as oleh-oleh (presents) to his parents-in-law.

"It's very difficult nowadays to find suitable souvenirs for our relatives in the village. In the past, people loved to bring home TV sets. Now, Perumka prohibits such luggage, saying it takes up too much space," Ali said.

Night fell, the green views were replaced by darkness. The rain continued to pound the carriage roof.

The family, including Susan, broke their fast, eating the food they brought from home.

As night progressed, people started to fall asleep. The eldest child, Susan, slept on the seat, the youngest, Irawan Nasution, 3, lay beside his mother on another seat. Rudi Hartono, 10, and Serli Marlina, 4, were already sound sleep under the seat. Later, Ali and Sukirwan fell asleep sitting up.

Around 4:00 a.m. Ali woke up and ate several slices of bread they had brought for sahur (pre-dawn meal).

The train arrived at Malang's Kota Baru station at 10:00 a.m., but the journey had not ended. They chartered a minivan for Rp 15,000 to take them to their village.

A half an hour later, the long and arduous journey ended. The Scorpions' song Always Somewhere could be heard from a house as the family crawled out of the van. It was cold in the village. The warmth with which the villagers greeted them, however, made everyone forget the chilly weather.

The family had fulfilled their year-long expectation of gathering with their loved ones for Idul Fitri.

They'll make the same painful journey next year -- happily.