JP/3/Salim/

No worries, no future - the life of a street child in Jakarta

Text and photo By David Zweifler -- 10pts Metrolight l/c

JAKARTA (JP): Salim is a 14-year-old boy who is living a teenagers dream; he's in the big city, earns more money than his father, rooms with his friends, isn't going to school, and stays out as late as he wants.

Salim is a lucky guy -- especially because he has managed to avoid arrest, deportation or imprisonment by city officials, and had two friends help him pay for medical treatment, without which he would have been crippled.

Salim came to Jakarta two and a half years ago with a cousin, who disappeared 10 months ago without a trace. His story is fairly typical of urbanization in developing countries; his father is an underemployed, subsistence farmer who could not afford to send him to school, who lives in a regency with few capital resources. Before, Salim lived on a tiny rice farm with his parents, three brothers and a sister.

"I didn't like my friends there and there was nothing for me to do. So I left." he explained.

Salim said that his parents didn't tell him to leave, but they were not angry when he made his decision. Certainly, they were not angered by the savings he started sending back every month or so, or the gifts at Idul Fitri.

Salim works at one of Jakarta's more successful clubs as a parkir, a person who directs traffic and flags down taxi's for customers in exchange for tips from the driver. He works from ten o'clock at night to four or five in the morning. He says that on a good night he can make as much as Rp 20,000 (US$ 9.30) but on other nights he can make as little as four thousand ($2.0). Regardless, the senior taxi-boss on the block takes 15 percent as his cut which, under the circumstances, he thinks is fair.

To be truthful, he has fared quite well in Jakarta. He is earing what is considered to be a good wage and is also fortunate not to have ended up in one of the more unsavory professions which, according to Unicef data, are more likely to exploit children who are living illegally in Jakarta. Being a parkir is certainly much better than being a beggar, shoe-shine, prostitute, garbage collector, beggar or pickpocket.

Salim is one of Jakarta's children working in the "informal sector." This, Jakarta's grey economy, is the only gainful employment available for non-residents and children because of the difficulties of getting a job in the legitimate sector. To get a job in factory, department store or office requires residency papers from the city administration, a "good conduct" letter from city police, letters of reference from two tiers of neighborhood officials and, for more skilled jobs, a high school diploma.

Neither the government, the International Labor Organization (ILO) or Unicef has exact figures on how many Salim's there are on the streets of Jakarta. Obviously, it is very difficult to track numbers in the grey economy, especially for children. Because these jobs are not "official," they are not included in the government's standard labor reports. Because they are not overtly "illegal" no estimates can be made from police arrest reports.

However, Unicef estimates that the number of children working in the informal sector alone may be as high as 2.8 million. A representative from the ILO has said that "child workers are statistically hidden even in the formal sector." At any rate, they are not hidden on the streets of Jakarta. If you're curious, you might want to try and count for yourself the next time you're at a club, major intersection, marketplace, or bus terminal. They're all too easy to find.

Russian roulette

For the children working in the informal sector, especially those who are illegal residents and without parental support, illness and injury is a dangerous game. There is no insurance for these children or standard system of medical care for the poor. They are often afraid to obtain medical care because of their questionable legal status and financial conditions. Whenever they get sick or hurt, they are forced to play a game of Russian roulette with their health, hoping that the illness will simply go away.

Salim played and almost lost.

In July of 1993 Salim was riding on the back of a motorcycle with a friend when a car cut them off and they were both sent to the pavement. Salim gashed the back of his hand and ended up going to a cheap medical clinic. They stitched up the wound without anesthetic and put a bandage over it.

The poor quality of his treatment combined with Salim's ignorance of follow-up care caused the gash to become infected.

Fortunately Salim had come to be friends with two expatriate English teachers named Kurt Kahler and Jamie Graham who were regular customers at the bar where he worked. Kahler noticed that Salim had been wearing his bandage for more than a week and inquired about what it was for.

"We noticed that his hand was bandaged and I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had fallen off a motorcycle. When we came back a week later and noticed he was still wearing the same bandage. I asked him how his hand was and he told me it was sore and he couldn't move it," Kahler said.

Eventually, they asked Salim to show them the cut so they could see how the wound was progressing.

When they removed the bandage they discovered that the wound was gangrenous, so much so that they thought Salim could certainly lose his hand. They rushed Salim to the clinic of a doctor who was a friend of Kahler's family, where the cut was disinfected and re-stitched. Ultimately, the infection destroyed so much tissue in Salim's hand and wrist that he required plastic surgery to prevent permanent deformity and paralysis.

The cost of the operation for Salim should have been approximately Rp 1.5 million - certainly more money than Salim could ever afford to pay on his own. Luckily, Kahler and Graham paid the Rp 500,000 for the anesthesiologist. The surgeon donated his services, a bed, food and medicine for free.

Kahler found two factors regarding the accident particularly frustrating.

First, there were no options for Salim in his current situation. He had no choice but to find some "rich" person to help him. If he didn't find a patron, Salim might have lost his hand or worse.

Secondly, Salim's injuries did not have to be as serious as they were. If Salim had the support apparatus available to most Indonesian children -- parents, school, and community -- then his wound might have been treated when it was still just a cut, and before it reached a crisis threshold.

Lost childhood

While Salim may be doing well compared to other illegal immigrant children, he has many needs as a child that will never be fulfilled. He has the good fortune of having two, relatively well-off, expatriate friends, but he does not have the supervision of his family. He is definitely a street-smart youth, but he is not equipped with a real education. He has a very strong work ethic, but he does not have the same level of maturity as his peers. These limitations do not seem to be of great consequence now, not to Salim at any rate. However, they will prove to be a greater and greater liability as he grows older.

But Salim isn't upset about his situation, Quite the contrary, he is in love with his job and his exciting lifestyle.

The last time I saw Salim, it was while he was working. I asked him if he was happy now that he was living in Jakarta.

"It's more fun here in Jakarta," he said.

"Do you ever wish you were back with your parents?" I asked. He would not answer but I pushed him for a reply.

"No. No," He said, then paused. "Tidak tauh. I don't know."

Salim may or may not think he is living the ideal childhood, one without financial or parental limits. But it's clear he is not having a real childhood, one that teaches him about life and social interaction and responsibility. The saddest part about him and all the other Salims is they are losing their youth, and, ultimately, their adulthood as well.