Hygiene a distant dream for Bantar Gebang residents
Hygiene a distant dream for Bantar Gebang residents
Text by T. Sima Gunawan and photos by Mulkan Salmona
BEKASI, West Java (JP): It was noon. A young man wearing a bamboo hat was sitting contentedly in a simple tent, eating a cob of corn. A fly settled on it, but he didn't care.
He did not care about his dirty T-shirt and the smell of garbage, either.
"I am used to it," he said. "I don't smell it anymore bad."
His name is Warsaid. He is one of more than 10,000 scavengers who scratch around for a living at Bantar Gebang waste dumping point in Bekasi, east of Jakarta. Every day, more than 18,000 cubic meters of waste from the metropolitan area is dumped here, on a 108-hectare plot of land.
"In this area, medical premises do not apply," said Tigor Nainggolan from the Jakarta Social Institution, who is active in the efforts to improve scavengers' welfare.
He is clearly right.
In this area, people live with thousands -- maybe millions -- of flies and putrid odors in stuffy small shanties. They have some little electricity but there is no clean water. Several deep wells are found there.
Not far from the shacks, there is 10-meter deep hole with a diameter of about 75 centimeters. It is one of the wells in the area where people get water to cook, drink and wash.
"Some 100 people share this well," Joko, another activist, said.
Among them is Umiyati, mother of seven children.
She was putting mineral water bottles in a sack. Her youngest son stood nearby, watching her quietly. He is about three years old and was totally naked.
Every day, Umiyati wakes up at four and spends more than 10 hours working at the site. Her husband also works as a scavenger. While her husband is still sleeping, Umiyati is busy preparing the meals.
There are many food vendors in the area, but she has never bought food from those vendors. "They don't taste good," she said. Healthy food or nutritious food is not the case.
Like other scavengers, she does not seem to have any idea about cleanliness or sanitation.
Asked about her toilet, she said: "We can use the one in Pak Kus' place over there."
She was referring to Kusnadi's semi-permanent house, which has a corrugated iron roof. Compared to the shacks, some of which are only one-meter high, his place is much better. But it is far from perfect.
"Please, come in," he said when he saw The Jakarta Post approaching.
There was an office desk and two folding chairs in the small living room. A motorbike -- something you wouldn't expect to see here -- was parked in the room and an imitation leather jacket hang on the wall. Piles of big new water buckets, made of recycled plastic, were being stored at the end of the room.
He took one and put it upside down on the floor.
"Sorry, we lack furniture. Here you go, please sit down. I guarantee that it is unbreakable," he said.
His wife showed up with some glasses of coffee. She put dusty plastic caps to cover the glasses, protecting the coffee from the eager flies.
Kusnadi, 45, is what the scavengers call lapak. There are 68 lapak in Bantar Gebang. Every day he buys tons of recyclable things from the scavengers and sell some of them to the suppliers, who have the deal with the factories. But he sells plastic junk directly to an Indonesian-Korean joint venture. Lucky him. Most lapak do not have access to factories.
"Water buckets are our products," he said proudly.
He stores all junk in the 500 square-meter house yard he rents from a local resident for Rp 600,000 (US$260) a year. His merchandise includes mineral water plastic bottles, animal bones, plastic wares, glass and aluminum.
"You can use bones to make buttons. People also buy bones as animal fodder," Kusnadi said.
He buys a kilogram of bones for Rp 200 (US$.085). The price of mineral water bottles is Rp 250/kg, glass is Rp 70/kg and hard plastic ware is between Rp 200 and Rp 250/kg, plastic bags are Rp 70/kg. Used paper costs between Rp 100 and Rp 300/kg.
"Prices have slumped because suppliers prefer to import waste," he complained.
In 1994, plastic junk cost Rp 600/kg.
"There's lots of waste in various parts of the city which can't be handled. But the government allows the import of waste. I don't understand," Kusnadi said.
Kusnadi doesn't know that suppliers make a big profit from imported waste, because they get the waste free. The waste, including hazardous items which cannot be recycled, comes from industrialized countries. Their waste is shipped to developing countries to avoid tight environmental regulations in their own countries.
The Jakarta Social Institute believes that there are 150,000 scavengers in Greater Jakarta, who are affected by the waste import policy, according to Susilo, a member of the organization.
"I remember President Soeharto's recognition to our contribution in helping preserving the environment. But the government doesn't care about us. Prices are falling and they just don't care," Kusnadi said.
In 1988 Soeharto awarded the scavengers with a title of Laskar Mandiri (Soldiers of self-sufficiency) for their role in environmental preservation.
Debts
Despite falling prices, scavengers manage to survive.
Warsaid said that he can make between Rp 30,000 (US$13) and Rp 60,000 (US$26) a week. But he said he didn't save any, having to pay off debts.
A few months ago he returned to his village in Indramayu, West Java, to host a big party for his seven-year-old daughter. The party was held in accordance with local tradition to show the family's determination to raise her as a good Moslem. The party lasted for two days, and the highlight was a video screening.
He spent more than Rp 1 million on the party.
"I still have Rp 300,000 (US$130) in debts," he said.
He lives with his wife, their daughter, and his parents-in- law. His wife and his parents in law are also scavengers.
Like many other scavengers, Warsaid, who has been in Bantar Gebang for over a year, was a farmer. He left his hometown as they could not harvest his ricefields due to bad weather -- big floods and long dry seasons.
Kusnadi, who arrived in Bantar Gebang three years ago, said people can get more income from the waste dumping area than from farming. But many people look down upon the scavengers and call them smelly garbage folk.
"Who wants to become a scavenger? Who wants to live in a place like this with putrid smells and flies? If I could find a better job, I would certainly change my profession," he said.