Now, Mr. Governor, what have you done for us lately?
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 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 already
resembled a big petting zoo at certain times on Saturday nights,
one valiant councillor's cries of rejection were drowned out by
the sound of a flurry of frantic SMS-ing in 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 International Airport through the traffic congestion to
Monas. Another four quickly succumbed to physical and
psychosomatic illnesses, including exhaustion 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), compete in 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 opening, 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 never imagined 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
hopped uneasily.
"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 may 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.
Here was a man who knew how to think on his feet. After all,
he had been in similar predicaments in the past.
Whether it was telling the pedicab drivers they could come
back to town, and then saying the couldn't, or opening up a
floodgate many years ago and sending a torrent of sewage into one
of the city's finest hotels (oops!), he had gotten himself into
and out of bigger messes than this.
"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 bunch of public works officials tried their best
to manhandle the incensed kangaroos, he diverted the guests'
attention to the deer roaming in another part of the park. "Look
at them, and how they settled in so well ..."
Now, this is only a fanciful view of the future, but it could
always happen here ...
-- Sarasvati