Let them eat tempeh, all the ungrateful little people

Let them eat tempeh, all the ungrateful little people

My neighbor was not amused by the sight of scrawny Sodik
shouting, "Merdeka" (freedom) as he grabbed the national flag
from the top of the slippery palm tree trunk.

But his excitement was understandable: He and his four friends
won Rp 500,000 (US$60) for their Independence Day exploits. It
may not be much money for some of us, but for Sodik, who is a
scavenger, it's a princely sum.

"This means that he will not clean up our garbage tomorrow
because he is too tired and because he has extra money now," my
neighbor grumbled.

I smiled, but that quickly disappeared when I thought of the
stench from all our garbage baking in the sun.

I also celebrated Aug. 17 with President Megawati
Soekarnoputri at Merdeka Palace. Only 6,000 of the very elite
from the country's 210 million population were invited. Along
with mementos of a tie and scarf, all of the guests received a
voucher to be exchanged for a snack after the ceremony.

We all made our way to the hospitality tables, where at least
one legislator was cramming cookies and soft drinks into his bag.
Think positive: It must have been part of his pride in his
country's products, not because of greediness.

I could only get my hands on a couple of donuts.

"Actually, I'm not hungry, but I'm taking these just to make
sure that the state is fulfilling its obligation to give me these
tiny cakes," I told the attendants.

I thought about that palace party a few days later when my
friend was telling me about witnessing the eviction of vendors
from around the shopping center and sports hall in front of an
apartment building in Kuningan, South Jakarta.

"I'm just trying to earn a living, leave me alone," he quoted
one of the old women selling drinking water as saying to the
advancing public order officials.

Now, my friend, bleeding heart liberal that he is, just does
not understand how things really work. The owner of that
apartment building had been at the palace with me, one of the
chosen few as a very famous businessman. While the vendors had
been in the area for years, he probably thought that enough was
enough, what with them cluttering up the sidewalk and creating an
eyesore for prospective apartment buyers.

I can empathize with him: It's just another case where we get
blamed for doing wrong to the "little people", those like Sodik
and that old woman (and even those security guards and public
order officials), who are dependent on us but are never grateful
for what we do for them.

We expect our driver to appreciate our generosity, right? And
how about all the other little people working for us? We do our
best for them, but they don't even give us a word of thanks.

"If you were in their position you wouldn't do the same
thing?" my daughter asked me.

She blamed me for the resignation of my driver Torik because,
when I was angry with him, I often reeled off the names of
several residents of Ragunan Zoo.

"Torik is not a robot, nor a slave. He suffered a lot working
for us," my daughter said, adding that she believed that given
the opportunity I would exploit more people.

My father often told us the story about how ordinary people
had to learn to survive.

"Don't ever become little people, because they always become
victims. And if you cannot avoid that destiny, make sure that you
have enough endurance to take being a scapegoat or object of
abuse and oppression by more powerful and richer people."

According to him, we should not demand a servant act and think
as a secretary, nor a clerk as a business manager.

He knew what he was talking about: As the principal of a
Catholic elementary school in the small town of Pematang Siantar,
North Sumatra, he often experienced the bitterness of life, such
as having his salary cut on a number of mystifying pretexts by
the Ministry of National Education.

I remember the face of the fat nun who always insisted on
delivering my father's wage on Dec. 31, even though she knew we
needed it for Christmas.

"Christmas is Christmas, pay day is pay day," the nun would
say sanctimoniously.

Now, I see life from the other side. If you have people
working for you, never let them dictate to you. Teach them to be
grateful to you because you are the one employing them.

So what about my daughter's words, "If you were in their
position you wouldn't do the same thing"? Forget about them --
she's just a teenager who knows nothing about how the world
really works.

-- Kornelius Purba