Living in low-cost apartments; Not super comfortable, but OK
By Mehru Jaffer
JAKARTA (JP): It has been a long climb for Darmy, 45, to her third-floor apartment in the red-roofed high-rise housing complex in Pejompongan, Central Jakarta.
Three decades ago Darmy left her parched village in Surakarta, Central Java, for Jakarta in search of a better life. She married a taxi driver and lived in tin sheds along the intercity railway line that snakes across Petamburan, past Palmerah Selatan. However, it is only now that she feels that all the struggle has been worthwhile.
"Life was all right. We could earn more money than in the village but it was nothing compared to this," Darmy says, looking lovingly around at her 21-square-meter home with its tiled floor, balcony, kitchen and attached toilet and bathroom. Most of the living quarters is taken up by a large rubber mattress bed, a dresser, a cabinet and ceiling-to-floor curtains that separate the sleeping area from the narrow patch in front of the main entrance where a television set sitting on top of the refrigerator plays all day long.
It is here that Darmy sits on the floor to sort out and iron the day's laundry, often helped by Esti, her 15-year-old daughter whose eyes are glued to her favorite program on television.
Sandwiched between the Petamburan and Karet Bivak cemeteries, the former settlements which sat on this piece of city-owned land are compared by residents as the closest thing to hell.
"My father-in-law still lives along the railway line," says Suranto, 33, a cook with the Ibis chain of hotels who was born and brought up by his along with five siblings in a tin shed measuring 24 square metres. The railway line was used as a toilet and water was drawn from hand pumps. The roof leaked, the air was heavy with a strong stench and it was always crowded and noisy, recalls the soft-spoken Suranto, who is happy his kindergarten- age daughter has a better home than he did as a child.
Suranto uses the front of his apartment as a small shop, selling things like packages of instant noodles, shampoo and soap.
An aquarium, television and other decorations perch on top of a wooden cabinet, behind which is a four-poster bed that is made more comfortable by the ceiling fan above. A rolled up carpet stands between the bed and the refrigerator in the corner.
When he is at the hotel, where he earns Rp 600,000 per month, his wife takes care of the shop in the house. Suranto sometimes returns to his village in Central Java to visit his mother and other relatives, but if he was ever asked to stay in the village and become a farmer like his father, he would say no thank you.
It was in the early 1990s when part of the ever-expanding slums in the area burned down and the city administration decided to level the area and build three blocks of high-rise, low-cost housing for the residents of the area. Today there are three nine-story blocks, with 30 21-square-meter apartments on each floor.
By 1995, the rumah susun (apartments) were ready to be occupied and anyone able to make a down payment of Rp 6 million could own one. The remaining Rp 8 million for the apartments were to be paid in installments. Today all of the apartments are taken, and depending upon the location and the interior decor, are often resold for Rp 30 million or more. Although a refreshing breeze helps to blow away much of the sweat and heat in the top- floor apartments, they remain cheaper than those on the lower floors. As one climbs higher up the staircase, the noise from the intercity trains thundering past seems less deafening as well.
Looking down at the number of cars parked in front of the apartments, it is clear that it is not just former slum dwellers who live here.
Annie, originally from Surabaya, is a marketing analyst with an information technology company. She rents her apartment on the seventh floor for Rp 300,000 per month and her landlady lives in a similar apartment a few floors below.
Annie pays another Rp 70,000 a month for parking. Previously, she lived in Bekasi and it took her hours and cost her a lot of money to travel to her office on Jl. Sudirman.
The apartments are ideal for single, working people like Annie, although she is often asked by friends if she feels safe, for the area is haunted by prostitutes and their customers.
"That does not bother me at all. I like it here for there are plenty of other conveniences, like Darmy, who does my laundry," says Annie, who often picks up a meal at the end of the day in one of the numerous restaurants residents have opened in their apartments. If she is prepared to pay some more money she can even get her apartment cleaned and food cooked in her own kitchen.
A supermarket and public telephones are on the ground floor while massage parlors and beauty salons are scattered throughout the complex.
There is running water 24 hours a day in the bathroom, which allows Darmy to make the rounds in the apartment buildings to pick up as many as 120 pieces of laundry daily. Washing and ironing the laundry, Darmy can earn up to Rp 50,000 a day, and she also works as a real estate agent from her apartment, helping people rent or buy an apartment in the building.
Because her husband is unemployed at the moment, she needs every rupiah to take care of her three school-age children. After all, Esti, her 15-year-old daughter is determined to join the Police Academy.