Night rounds bring neighbors together
By Dwi Atmanta
JAKARTA (JP): The riots which jolted Jakarta recently may have served as a blessing in disguise for people living in housing complexes, though for many, the experience may be too bitter to warrant remembering.
It is hard to believe that anxiety has swept this land of relative peace and that violent hatred has overwhelmed a community long touted as polite and religious.
"Why must we experience this terror even though we have acknowledged the (United Nations) freedom from fear (agreement)?" Emy, who lives in Bekasi, West Java, grumbled while recalling her lack of sleep Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights of last week.
The recent riots not only left nearly 500 dead, mostly in burned shopping centers, but were traumatic for many residents of housing complex across Jakarta and its outskirts. The turbulence created unexpected holidays for students, employees and other professionals.
Emy, an employee of an automotive company in Sunter, North Jakarta, joined other women accompanying their husbands in day and night neighborhood patrols to guard against threats of renewed looting.
Residents of a neighboring housing complex saw vandals ransack stores and set fire to them.
"Every minute was frightening. We had to stay alert without knowing if the looters would come in. I couldn't stand it," the mother of five children said.
More than 500 families live in the housing complex situated near the city line between Jakarta and Bekasi.
Under the command of a police captain, fellow resident Agus Wijaya, the people organized their defense.
During normal times, daily business activities usually allow residents to ignore participating in community night watch rounds. They pay Rp 5,000 a month for four hansip (local night guards), to do the job. But now the perceived common danger has brought neighbors closer together.
A loudspeaker on the top of a nearby mosque serves as a siren to warn residents of any danger. The first warning shout of a mosque worker caused panic Thursday, but after repeated warnings, men and women showed greater preparedness.
Alternatively, residents beat telephone poles or iron fences whenever they sensed danger.
Armed with sticks, hammers, knives, swords, scissors or tools for self-defense, men, women and youths came out of their homes to block all access roads to the complex once they heard a warning.
"We have to fight it out to defend our property. No need to be afraid because we outnumber them," said Danur, a bank employee, brandishing his golok (a traditional sword).
But a fearful-looking Emy was skeptical that the residents could beat back merciless looters if the two clashed.
"Let them take what they want, provided it's not our lives. My friends told me they have guns," she said.
When survival was the case, residents found there was no other choice but to offer resistance.
Heads of neighborhood units in the complex called on their residents to take part in the joint security arrangement. The informal leaders asked residents to tie blue plastic string around their heads or arms to differentiate them from outsiders.
One night, a clash among complex residents almost occurred when watchmen of one neighboring unit thought others to be looters approaching from the main entrance.
Residents of one neighboring unit enthusiastically talked strategy with each other to prepare for any trouble.
"We'd rather let them in first, then surround them before beating them. I can't wait to know who they are," said Yudi, an employee of a chemical company in Pulogadung, North Jakarta.
He speculated that the looters were well organized.
"I heard a truck had dropped some off somewhere. They are not many, but are skillful at inciting people to riot," Yudi said.
Lukman, a former hoodlum in the Tanjung Priok Port area, agreed. He told many stories alleging that the looters were organized by soldiers. Everybody showed interest but raised their eyebrows eventually.
"How could they plot such a cruel move? They should be protecting us instead, shouldn't they?" said Ong, one of a few ethnic Chinese Indonesians living in the housing complex.
During their patrols, the residents usually start feeling fatigued at about midnight.
Lukman and three other men opt to play dominoes and trade jokes while waiting for dawn.
A public kitchen was also quickly organized. After people were filled with noodles and coffee, some laid down on mattresses, looked up at the full moon and fell asleep. They would need their energy to battle the same uncertainty over the coming days.