River cleaning brings shrimp harvest and fun

Text and photo by Lela E. Madjiah

JAKARTA (JP): The golden brown water of the Kali Malang River in East Jakarta glowed under the friendly, warm sun. It was barely eight o'clock in the morning. I was riding to work in a Mikrolet (small public transport vehicle) when I noticed a crowd of people -- old, young, men and a few women -- immersing themselves in the water. Some had fish nets, others simply carried plastic bags. Excitement was in the air and somehow it got through to me.

Curious, I asked the driver to let me out in front of the army housing complex.

Taking out my camera, I shouted to a couple of women in the water: "What are you doing?"

Laughing shyly, one of them shouted back, "Shrimp!"

Later she told me her name was Liani.

I stepped down onto the bank.

"Careful, it's soft," warned a man, who turned out to be Liani's husband.

It was too late. My shoes were already half buried in the mud. But the sweet smell of the river and the happy faces of the two women made me forget about my shoes.

Liani's husband, Suparji, told me that the shrimp, as well as fish, always come out when the river is flooding or being cleared of the tall thatch grass.

"They're cleaning the river now," he explained.

"How many have you caught?" I asked.

"Not many," Liani showed me her plastic bag. She only had a handful of tiny shrimp. They were the size of my little finger -- only much slimmer. "Mom's got more," she added, pointing at an elderly woman a few meters away.

That stood to reason, seeing the old lady was using a fish net.

Liani said there were not all that many shrimps, and that usually she only managed to bring home enough for one meal with her husband and two sons after a whole morning in the water.

Liani's right hand deftly combed the tall ilalang for the tiny shrimp, her eyes fixed on the water, her face full of hope, excitement, even joy. The mood was infectious.

I don't know why, but seeing her happy face made me think of a rich aunt of mine. How she loves shrimp and with the money she has, she can buy as many as she wants. Only she can't. Her high cholesterol level prevents her from enjoying one of her life's delights.

"Won't you get sick, staying in the water like that?" I asked.

"No," Liani assured me.

Shrimp is a luxury for Liani and most of the people who were down in the river that morning. Many were occupants of the slum areas along the river banks. They always welcome the floods and the river-cleaning seasons, since it means additional food for them.

Not far from where I spoke with Liani, a father and his 10- year-old girl patrolled the bank, their eyes fixed on the water, eager to bring home some shrimp.

My eyes returned to Liani and her husband, who was giving her directions from the bank. They were having fun, I thought.

"Is it worth it?" I asked Liani, pointing at her wet clothes.

"Of course, they taste good," Liani said simply, a smile on her radiant face.