Indonesian workers try their luck in Korea

Indonesian workers try their luck in Korea

By K. Basrie

SEOUL (JP): It was a chilly November evening at the famous
round-the-clock Namdaemun market.

A young man, in rugged jeans, jogging shoes and an oversized
leather jacket, hustled along through the busy tourist
marketplace.

At one of the alleys, he stopped and starred at a group of
people who looked very familiar.

He came closer and in Bahasa Indonesia, he asked one of them:
"Mas (big brother), are you from Indonesia?"

"Yupp," the man replied. "We're journalists from Jakarta."

Suddenly, he cheered and greeted the flock, one by one, while
introducing himself as an Indonesian working at a jewelry
workshop nearby.

Without asking the consent of his new friends, Sukri Ahkab,
21, from Talang Aur, Ogan Komering Ulu, Palembang, led the group
to his place, a few minutes walk from the Namdaemun area.

Several steps from his place, Sukri stopped over at a
restaurant and spoke in South Korean to a female waitress whom he
appeared to know.

He then escorted his eight guests, who had actually been
looking for South Korean souvenirs at Namdaemun to bring home as
gifts, to his tiny place at the top of a four-story building.

"This is where I work, sleep and pray," Sukri said as he
hastily took a blanket, unfurled it on the floor and asked his
guests to sit on it.

The room was divided into two sections: a one meter by two
meters entrance hall (used by Sukri as his living room and
bedroom as well) and a three meters by four meters working place
which was filled with chemicals, engraving tools, wires, plastic
gloves, hundreds of unfinished rings, a heater and a washing
machine. The bathroom was somewhere in the corner of this "lab".

According to Sukri, or Ali as he preferred to be called by
the other Indonesian workers and his South Korean friends, the
room has been, for the past two months, a place for him and his
fellow colleague from Lampung, Sumatra, to work in, from 10 a.m.
until 10 p.m. for which they are paid 750,000 won (Rp 5.5 million
or about US$600) per month.

A few minutes later, he excused himself to return to the
restaurant for a while. He was back later with a big bag of fried
chicken and cans of local beer.

"Why should you spend such lot of money for people like us
while you're just a casual worker here?" asked one of his guests.

He smiled.

"It's not much compared to my happiness of having the chance
to meet my brothers from Indonesia. It's a very lucky day for
me," Sukri said.

"Overseas workers like us won't have friends if you just work
and save your money. I have to treat people, including local
Koreans, only to make more friends," he added.

While asking his guests to enjoy the meal, Sukri recalled his
journey to Seoul.

After graduating with a first class diploma (D1) in accounting
from a private university in Yogyakarta, he asked his father to
sell the family's Suzuki Carry minivan to help finance his trip
to South Korea.

"I had never dreamed of becoming an overseas worker like this.
The idea came from my friends."

After paying Rp 2.5 million in commission fee to the broker,
he paid another Rp 5 million as down payment to a company, under
the supervision of the Ministry of Manpower, which had arranged
for his training, travel documents, visa and job.

The remaining Rp 7.5 million was to be paid in stages to the
company after he had found employment in South Korea.

He recalled the unpleasant moments he and his friends
experienced at the ministry's training center in Cianjur, West
Java.

"The training had nothing to do with teaching us how to work
or behave. It was a military-style training which forced me to
spend more time hiding in the kitchen.

"If you don't give the instructors Rp 50,000, you'll be
punished, for example, submerged in a dirty ditch.

"A friend of mine went insane, probably due to the military-
like training."

Sukri arrived in South Korea in April 1999 and was immediately
hired at an aluminum producing factory near the North-South
Korean border for 400,000 won (about Rp 3 million) per month.

"There, I bathed in water that had been used to wash
vehicles," he recalled, adding that about one-third of his salary
was cut to pay his debt in installments to the ministry's firm.

Early this year, he ran away from that place after being
involved in a heated debate with his employers, who he said
treated the Indonesian workers like him unfairly.

"They gave special-day bonuses only to South Korean employees,
while we (Indonesian workers) worked 36 hours in total on Fridays
and Saturdays and from 9 a.m. untill midnight on the other
working days," Sukri said.

He then moved to another town and worked at a factory
producing compressed granulated cork.

"At this new place, I was paid 500,000 won, about half of that
received by attendants at big supermarkets in Seoul," Sukri said.

Here, he stayed only for seven months. His boss asked him to
leave after he was accused of provoking his Indonesian fellow
workers to stage a protest over the bonuses given to workers from
Thailand, the Philippines and South Korea.

"Sometimes, I think I'm a naughty boy. But, it's them (the
employers) who didn't treat us fairly while we, the Indonesian
workers, worked very hard for them," he said.

He then left for Seoul to meet friends from Sumatra. After
several weeks of being jobless in Seoul, his friend from lampung
offered him a job at the current place.

In the first few days, he said, "my eyes hurt as I was still
unfamiliar with the job, particularly on how to embed the small
gems in the rings and earrings."

Using top-class brand names, such as Channel, Sukri's boss
distributed the silver jewelry to a number of top department
stores in Seoul.

"A box of 100 rings and 300 pairs of earrings cost 950,000
won. But a special complete package of a pair of earrings, a
ring, a necklace and a toe ring is set at 750,000 won, which is
my one month take-home pay," he said with a broad smile.

Sukri has a group of Korean friends. He speaks Korean and can
read Hangul (Korean alphabets).

"I learned Korean from the book (dictionary) and by
conversation. I learned Hangul from notices and advertisements
placed along the subways," he said.

In the first few days in South Korea with his mind still
somewhere back home, his supervisor -- speaking in Korean --
asked him to reverse the forklift. His superior did not know that
his word meant "hit it" in Palembang.

"So, I drove the forklift a few meters back and moved forward
to hit the bulk of aluminum. The man was so mad with me," he
said, giggling.

Sukri is one of some 13,500 Indonesian "trainees" working in
South Korea in various sectors.

"I'm happy here. I've sent some Rp 60 million to my parents
back home," he said.

According to his fellow female workers, Ani and Endang, both
26 from East Java and working at a stocking factory, the only sad
moments are during Ramadhan and Idul Fitri which are special
periods in Indonesia.

"We just cry in the night, longing of our families far away
home," Ani said.