Learning the art of queuing

JAKARTA (JP): Consider this: Indonesians are good at doing great things, but lousy at trivial matters such as queuing.

It is, for example, easier for Indonesians to build an airplane than to queue.

Now you may disagree with me, but what about the following facts?

How long did it take for the nation to build its first airplane?

Fifty years, with Independence Day as a starting point.

How long has it taken for Indonesians to learn how to queue?

They haven't and an answer may be forever in the waiting.

One day, at the Soekarno-Hatta airport in Cengkareng, I was late and there were hundreds of other passengers. There was a long, curling line of people waiting to pay the exit tax. Everyone was anxious and the line grew longer while the officials behind the windows did not seem to notice, collecting the tax and working leisurely as usual.

Suddenly a young lady rushed in, dragging her Chanel cabin bag. Her outfit was also Chanel, from head to toe, and she smelled heavenly -- thanks to her obviously expensive perfume.

She weighed the situation, then marched towards me; to my dismay, she stood right in front of me.

"Excuse me, but you have to queue," I told her, more disappointed than angry.

I say disappointed because I always expected that someone that rich would surely be better mannered. My mind flew back to 1976, during a trip to Gunung Kidul in East Java. Water has always been scarce there and villagers have to queue for their supply. It was a remote village with no electricity. Yet these poor people, none dressed properly, knew how to queue.

"I'm sorry, but I'm late," the Chanel lady said.

"We're all late," I said, trying to be patient.

But the lady refused to move out of the line and went ahead of me.

Then everybody started murmuring, whispering to each other how rude the lady was. To no avail. She did not even look guilty.

All right, she had an excuse, albeit a poor one, for cutting in line because she could not afford to miss her flight. But what about queuing at supermarkets? No life is at risk at a supermarket, I'm sure, but still some people refuse to stand in line. Some may not know that they have to, but most are simply rude and in a hurry.

I don't mind if people say, "Will you let me in? I'm in a hurry?" It gives me a good feeling to let those people pass. But to have someone jostle you aside without uttering a word?

Queuing at traffic lights is another concept alien to the majority of Indonesians. Take your average day at an intersection: The light is green, but the intersection is congested; no matter how harsh you swear, nobody is moving. But, no, you still try to press forward, knowing you will block traffic coming from other directions when it's their turn to go. The vehicles coming from other directions move on, despite the herd of cars blocking their right of way. In less than five minutes, a tangled web traffic and tension is formed.

How do you assess such a situation?

It would have been wiser for motorists to wait their turn instead of moving forward as soon as the light turned green. That would have saved them a headache. But no, "It's my right of way, I must move on!"

"Fine, go on and have a nice jam!"

-- G.A. Koesoemowinoto