Legislators: Big fish in a small pond

Legislators: Big fish in a small pond

JAKARTA (JP): Putting back smiles on the faces of university
students after the so-called Black Friday is not an easy task.
The injuries, torture, shooting, lashing, bashing, and death of
friends they have experienced are extremely traumatic and too
much to bear.

More over, to their chagrin, the recent SI of MPR (Special
Session of People's Consultative Assembly) has not met their
demands. They have become withdrawn, sad, and sometimes hard to
talk to.

I want to see them back on track. As far as I'm concerned,
young people their age do not have to worry too much about
politics.

They have their own fish to fry. Their future is far ahead;
they still have a lot to achieve. Let those guys up there worry
about government. The taxpayers of this country pay them a
handsome amount (not to mention the amount they deliberately rip
off) to establish a clean, sensible administration.

It took more than just persuasion to drag my youngest son and
his "gang" of students to a place that, I thought, could cheer
them up. Only after I threatened to join a certain political
party did they agree to my offer of a trip to the Sea World.

Even at the giant marine aquarium those youngsters did not
show any interest. They kept talking among themselves and made me
feel like a fish out of water. I tried to tell jokes to make them
crack a smile, but to no avail.

When it was time for the feeding session, however, they began
to pay attention. "Hey, look at that!" said Randy, pointing at a
group of sharks that gently took food from the hand of the
trainer in the aquarium. "They look so unusually sweet and
friendly. They are maneuvering calmly."

"They have been tamed and trained to maneuver correctly and to
hide their original behavior," I said wisely. "They know they are
on stage; they need to entertain the audience. Those man-eating
fish must have gone through training or maybe some kind of
compromise with their trainer before they can be accepted on the
stage like this. They must have learned a lot of tricks."

"And that dolphin! It moves so gracefully that other fish
follow her," shouted Leon.

"Yeah, she is the prima donna of the show. But I wonder why
she looks moody and sometimes bites her own friends."

"Wonder no more," I said. "Every creature inside that tank
moves according to the scenario prepared by the trainer. On
stage, they have to display some kind of attraction. But one
thing's for sure, they are oblivious to anything outside the
glass. As far as they are concerned, you can kill each other or
drop dead out here; it is none of their business."

"Oops!"

Eventually smiles cracked on those innocent faces. Thinking I
had been guiding the conversation in a wrong direction, they
laughingly attacked me with their fists. "You're not talking
about the fish!"

"Yeah, you have been talking about the Special Session."

"You are trying to say it is just like the show in this
aquarium! And that couldn't be more precise! We can only see the
people from the thick glass walls or from the electric-charged
barbed wire. The only difference is the fish on stage here give
us our money's worth."

"People in the Session didn't even know we exist."

"And they yielded a big pile of garbage!"

"Shut the..." I almost got mad at them. How dare they compare
the respectable institution to an aquarium and say the special
session produces garbage.

But my son hurriedly shoved over a newspaper with the headline
about the amount of trash collected from the MPR building during
the session. "When we talk about garbage, we mean garbage,
physically. So, please, don't even think of accusing us of
anything. Enuff is enuff."

I was ashamed of myself. But to admit my mistake would just
put them upwind. So I tried to switch their attention somewhere
else to the way the Authority "detonated" allegations about some
prominent "dissidents" in order to weaken the protest on the
Semanggi shooting spree.

"Hold it!" I said sternly. "I didn't mention a single word
about the special session. We are talking about fish! And,
please, don't you dare underestimate the MPR. The people there
are among the best Indonesians selected to represent you. They
work hard to secure this nation."

"As far as I know, they only secure their Ass...(his word was
cut short by a sneeze)...I mean, their Assignment."

Laughter broke out again.

Those youngsters actually had their point. Our representatives
in the Assembly seem to be too remote from the common people they
represent. Tight security and luxurious five-star accommodation
reflect the fact that they do not have a sense of crisis.

"They need to be brought down to earth," said Bagus.

"Yeah, even Pak Probo noticed their indifference."

Mr. Probosutedjo, the half-brother of the previous president,
criticized Harmoko's message of condolence that was stated
dutifully without any trace of sympathy on his face which was, as
Probo put it, close to laughter.

Gus Dur put it more bitterly, addressing them as bangsat
(dirty insects). And who can blame him? People at the MPR are
notorious for their indifference. Had they listened to the voice
of common people and the students, they could have carried out
the session in a gracious way without being encapsulated by tight
protection.

"And the tragedy wouldn't have happened."

"Until now, I have not seen any of them visit the home or be
present at the funeral of the victims. Don't they have any
sympathetic bones in their bodies?"

"At least they should pop their heads in to the hospitals
where our friends are treated."

"All right, children, that's it," I said, trying to end the
controversy. "Now, why do you think there are no gold fish in the
aquarium?"

"The answer is the same to the question why Mega, Amien, Gus
Dur, and the Sultan are not welcome in the Assembly."

I gave up. Apparently, I could not talk about the aquarium
without their relating it to the respectable institution. And I
don't want to be accused of fanning flames and be summoned by the
authorities.

-- Carl Chairul