Just another ordinary day in the Jakarta traffic jungle

JAKARTA (JP): For the past six months or so, I have set off to work, five days a week, by Taxi. Somewhere along the line, the car had to go, and with it, the unfortunate driver.

To our friends and neighbors, "face" made us declare it was so much easier going everywhere by taxi -- and cheaper.

In fact, our old friend krismon (the monetary crisis) had intervened. Who said orang bule (white expatriates) had no problems, were full of dollars? Very wrong; there are many of us who suffer just as much as our Indonesian equivalents.

Anyway, at about 8 a.m. the housemaids go out to summon a taxi, leaving me to talk to the cats Bagus and Jum'at. It is the only time of the day these two became really friendly and expect to be stroked, and ear-tickled.

I don't count suppertime, when the moment I sit down they both appear from nowhere and stare pleadingly. Jum'at is more cunning; when he thinks I have forgotten he is there he quietly stands up at the chair. He knows he is wrong, and the moment I glare at him, he goes into stretching mode as if to indicate he has no intention of asking for food, and drops down again in innocence. But that is another matter.

Meantime, along comes the Taxi. A groan from me, it is one of those many red and yellow ones, which should have been off the road five years ago, and usually it turns out so should the driver. The air-conditioner is definitely past it; "cannot get spare parts".

Quite apart from the trials and tribulations of the Taxi itself, the Trip is always different and always interesting. Between where I live and the "Pizza-Man" Statue at the end of Jl. Sudirman is a distance of about 1.5 kilometers. One day it can be absolutely jammed, vehicles four-abreast, and no room for anybody going the other way. It takes us 15 minutes to crawl along the 1.5 kilometer road section. The next day, it is like Sunday, and the same distance takes three minutes. Same time of day, no rain, no demo, so why? I have no idea.

Macet (traffic jam) or no macet, there are always the three-in-one "jockeys" -- old ones, young ones, very young ones, some girls, even women carrying a baby -- all with a hand or finger out, ready to dive into a car with less then three people inside.

I am always astonished at how neat and tidy they are, but then back in my car days, I asked one teenager why didn't he try and get a proper job. "Simple", he said, "As a jockey, I usually make Rp 6,000 a day for taking a couple of car rides, instead of working in difficult conditions in a factory for eight hours for only Rp 4,000." And in that 1.5 kilometers only, there are an average of 40 jockeys waiting. Multiply that by all the other jockey roads, and quite a seizable piece of Jakarta's daily economy comes to light.

We have reached Sudirman, and usually now the police wave us into the fast lane. The slow lane is a pain in the neck, as it is always full of buses of all sizes and shapes, stopping anywhere, breaking down anywhere.

I note many are expensive air-conditioned buses that are only half full, while the rest are crammed full. It strikes me that a few less of one and a few more of the others would be sensible. I think the government and the ordinary passengers agree, but not the bus companies.

At the Semanggi cloverleaf there is the usual jam with traffic policemen, and some very tough looking ladies seriously blowing whistles, and waving us on. Quite pointless, as there is no way anybody could move faster. Lots of soldiers have been sitting around recently -- just in case. It is comforting.

Up we go to Jl. Gatot Subroto, and straight into a bus jam opposite Police Headquarters. It has always struck me as curious that the rule at bus stops for passengers is do not wait at the Stop. Press forward 50 meters to 100 meters before the Stop. The actual covered stop often has nobody there except candy and cigarette vendor stalls.

Menara Mulia here we are. The argo (meter) shows Rp 6,000. I have only a Rp 10,000 note. "Sorry, sir, I've only just come on duty, no change." Hmm. But, that's Jakarta in the morning, and another day has started.

-- Derek C. Seagrove