Sun, 22 Jun 2003

Now, Mr. Governor, what have you done for us lately?

The year is 2013, and the Jakarta governor's term is about to end.

Well, it never really ends, because through thick and thin (mainly thick) he has managed to hold onto the job.

As the city nears its 486th anniversary, it is time to reflect on his past achievements.

A grocery list of these includes: * The rising population of the herd of deer in Monas Park, which have also had to be moved to other parks in the city * The establishment of a city deer-catching unit to deal with aforesaid overpopulation * A venison promotion month at all five-star hotels * The application of one of the world's most sophisticated parking systems using Personal Digital Assistance at six different points in the city. * The reclamation of nearly 3,000 hectares on Jakarta's northern coast, where two luxury housing developments, three strip malls, an 18-hole golf course and one fountain with a gigantic statue bearing a striking resemblance to the governor have taken pride of place. * The conversion of the Senayan sports complex into a "One-Stop Shopping and Entertainment Center", along with another "exclusive" apartment complex. * The purging of more than 500,000 urban poor from the city for nonpossession of government-issued ID cards. * The construction of three floodgates after a four-year delay.

That is not all, he told his councillors at a plenary session: He would cross his final frontier with his own gubernatorial "magnum opus".

"I want to make Jakarta a more beautiful city, a city friendly to all species," he said.

"I want to bring in ..." he paused a moment to look around at the bemused faces in the room.

"Kangaroos."

At this point, many of the councillors' fingers started jabbing at the red buttons in front of them, but the governor's people had taken the preventative measures of having the mikes shut off at the main control.

"Our honorable neighbor in the south has agreed to donate them to us as a gesture of good faith and damage control for the recent diplomatic skirmishes we had with them," he said.

"I have spoken with some experts, who assured me that they would fit right in at Monas, where they would freely mingle with the deer there. And sociologists told me that the presence of the kangaroos would help alleviate the city dwellers' stress and introduce children to nature.

"Monas will become one big petting zoo."

Although nobody had the gumption to say that Monas resembled a big petting zoo at certain times on Saturday nights anyway, one valiant councillor's cries of rejection were drowned out by the sound of a flurry of SMSs being sent from the room.

And so it came to pass that a shipment of kangaroos -- 15 to be exact -- were flown into the city.

Three perished in the now three-hour journey from Soekarno- Hatta airport through traffic to Monas. Another four quickly succumbed to physical and psychosomatic illnesses, including overheating, exhaustion, asthma and severe depression brought on by difficulty in coping with their new environment.

The governor, as always, looked on the bright side of things.

"The fact that more than half of the animals are still healthy is a good sign. My experts said they are in good hands and they would quickly adapt."

"Look," he said, pointing at a kangaroo cowering in a bush during a media trip to the park, "Doesn't he look happy to be here?"

For the surviving animals, the governor decided that they would jump rope, give rides to young children (assisted by former three-in-one jockeys), present nighttime boxing matches with the kangaroos pitted against the country's best fighters and maybe even act in a short one-scene comedy, like those traveling monkey-and-dog acts.

On the "D" day of the petting-zoo launching, a week before the governor was due to give his accountability report to councillors, Monas swarmed with Jakarta's VIPs, their adjutants, bodyguards and hangers on.

An ecstatic-looking Mr. Governor appeared before the crowd, who were getting restless under the 8 a.m. sun.

"And here's a sight you probably thought you would never see in our land -- our own kangaroo petting zoo."

The authorities then ushered a group of reticent schoolchildren into the fenced-in space where the kangaroos roamed.

"Come on, go pet him," said one city official, in a semi- threatening tone, "he won't bite."

The kids began bawling at seeing the weird-looking animals. And while kangaroos do not bite, they do kick, as several of the children on the front line soon found out.

Alarm showed on the faces of the VIPs, but the governor stepped in to put the situation right.

"So now you see the importance of having wild animals around your children at an early age," he declared without a moment's hesitation. "They would not be so uncomfortable around them like these kids, who actually provoked the animals with their nervousness."

As medical crews moved in to help the distressed and injured children, and a butch of public works officials tried to manhandle the incensed kangaroos, he turned the guests' attention to the deer roaming in another part of the park. "Look at them, and how they've settled in."

Now, this is only a fanciful view of the future, but it could always happen here ...

-- Sarasvati