Jakarta metropolis is like a big durian

Jakarta metropolis is like a big durian

Jakarta. Of all the cities in the world, why does it have to be
Jakarta? For some Westerners, it is a shock to hear that they are
going to be sent to Indonesia's capital, even if it's only for a
short time.

In the last five years, the number of foreign visitors has
clearly declined and this has started to create a problem for
Jakarta's hotel industry.

Filled with horrifying stories about one of the dirtiest
cities in the world and particularly panicked by news of
political and social unrest in the country of the world's biggest
Muslim population, for many expatriates they have already made up
their minds about the city before they arrive.

Leaving the secure and air-conditioned terminal at Soekarno-
Hatta International Airport, the hassle begins. Thrust into
Indonesia's humid heat and put at the mercy of all the so-called
agents and taxi drivers, people from non-tropical countries
immediately start sweating profusely. It feels like somebody has
punched you in the stomach.

The next shock comes when you get on the toll road: This is
not what you would call traffic anymore. It is just one endless
snake of heated metal, disappearing in a huge black cloud of
dust. Every day, every hour.

For a lot of visitors, this is already enough for them. They
are fed up after the rallies -- which they will most likely see
when they stay in one of the big hotels on Jl. Jend. Sudirman or
Jl. M.H. Thamrin -- not knowing if they were organized by a
radical Muslim party or a group of housewives.

As soon as they get the chance they will leave for Bali or
other more relaxed places. They will refuse to spend more time
than necessary outside the air-conditioned shopping malls or
hotel bars, where they gather with other expatriates. As a
result, they never get a real taste of what life in Jakarta is
like, which is actually a pity because it has very rich and
exciting cultural and social aspects.

Those who do look for it can see it almost every day in
interesting political discussions, theater or dance performances
or the opening of an exhibition.

In Jakarta, not only does the diverse culture and social
traditions from all over the huge archipelago come together, but
they also mix with western and other foreign influences, and
sometimes show amazing results.

Some events have such a huge offering of programs that it is
hard to decide where to go.

A case in point happened one month ago with the JakArt
Festival, which offered a long list of events, packed with
international guests from all over the world. At the same time
there was the French and Dutch film festivals, as well as the
opening program for Goethe-Haus. In addition, besides the regular
schedules at Jakarta's theaters, there are galleries and public
places, such as those at Gedung Kesenian or Komunitas Utan Kayu.

Once joining the cultural scene of this huge metropolitan, you
will find it very easy to get in contact with the people who are
involved in organizing the events.

Indonesians are generally very hospitable people and the more
a visitor shows interest, the more response he will get. The
invitations will come on their own, if you don't forget one rule:
Respect demands respect.

The biggest problem is to get rid of any prejudice or fears
about the unknown. Jakarta is not easy to like. It is a very
dirty, very crowded and very loud city with a big crime rate.
Nobody can blame people who didn't choose to live here. They try
to make themselves as comfortable as possible and keep a distance
to all the dirt and poverty which exists on the streets. But they
definitely will miss something, for Jakarta is also a very
diverse, very moving and a very exciting city.

Maybe it becomes easier to understand the people by seeing how
they live. Just take a glance from the top of the National
Monument. Of course you will see the nightmare, like traffic jams
on Jl. M.H. Thamrin and Jl. Menteng Raya. You will see all the
high-rise buildings on Jl. Jend. Sudirman and Jl. H.R. Rasuna
Said. But if you turn around just a little, you will recognize
something else: There are spaces in between.

These areas in between are actually the parts of the city
where the biggest part of Jakarta's population lives: small
kampongs with houses crammed together. From a bird's-eye view, it
appears like a mass of red and gray rooftops in between the
multitude of antennas and shrubs.

Foreign visitors rarely go astray in these narrow gang
(alleys). If it is already hard to find the way in these
labyrinths it might not also be very secure to walk there without
a local guide.

But if you have the chance to enter the gang of such a
kampong, you will experience a life absolutely different from the
one close to the main roads of the metropolis. Without the cars
and crowds, the chaos of the big city has been left behind. The
reward is the social control of people living so close to each
other and, of course, the dust and the smell, the pollution of
the canals going through these kampongs are an ecological
tragedy.

But here you find the roots of Jakarta's cultural and social
life: Kids playing in front of the houses, teenagers sitting
together and playing the guitar, while their parents gather at
the warung (food stalls) to philosophize not only about their own
lives but about religion, politics and life in general.

People staying only in the so-called expatriate ghettos -- big
hotels or expensive shopping malls -- will never learn about the
heart of this city.

They will never experience a spontaneous performance of the
present or former students of Jakarta's Institute of Arts by
drinking a beer in front of the banners at Taman Ismail Marzuki.
And they will never taste the best gado-gado (vegetable salad
mixed with peanut sauce) of the town at a small warung just
around the corner of their temporary home.

Jakarta is often compared to durian. One who is not used to
its strong smell feels disgusted only by passing by. But those
who get accustomed to its delicate taste cannot get enough of it.
Most Westerners hardly ever try durian. They call it the stinky
fruit or a little nicer: Cheese fruit. But only a few dare to get
the real taste and to get, maybe, even addicted to it.

-- Christina Schott