Time etches changes on urban landscape of Jakarta

Time etches changes on urban landscape of Jakarta

By Richard Watson

JAKARTA (JP): Early in the 1970s, the capital was still
spelled as Djakarta. It was widely reported by the international
press that Indonesia was a country in a state of anarchy with
most services broken down. Djakarta had only the Hotel Indonesia,
surrounded by slums, the grandiose Asian Games Stadium and a lot
of Soviet style monuments.

As a stereotype, it had some element of truth in the same way
that London could be stereotyped as a city of royal palaces,
guardsmen in red uniforms and beaver hats, Madame Tussauds, Soho
and Harrods, the main food being fish and chips.

As a new arrival in 1970, the first thing that struck me on
the buses and bemo (motorized three-wheeled vehicle) was the
interest of the locals in who I was. The questions were personal,
the English a tribute to earlier teaching programs..."Hullo
mister, I'm your friend... Are you married?...Why aren't you
married... are you heartbroken ..."

The next surprise was the wide availability of excellent food
at the warung (food stalls) and restaurants at a fraction of the
price it would be in Britain. Nasi goreng istimewa (special fried
rice) was Rp 150, rumah makan Padang (Padang food outlet) were
everywhere selling substantial meals for Rp 200, while the
upmarket Chinese restaurants worked out at Rp 700 per person.
Transport was cheap, the fare on the yellow Dodge buses being Rp
10 irrespective of distance -- it went up to Rp 15, and bemo were
taking over from the fleets of becak (pedicab) which blocked the
roads; even the forecourt to the Hotel Indonesia was packed with
them. Pasar Baru, Cikini market and Blok M were the markets
foreigners shopped at. There were still men on the streets
offering to exchange money, a throwback to the Sukarno inflation
but they were a vanishing species because their rates were no
better than those offered by the banks.

Even then changes were afoot. Air conditioning was replacing
the overhead fans in restaurants such as The Golden Room,
Menteng, and nightclubs were opening by the month, causing a lot
of criticism in the press. Large scale reconstruction was
starting and before I left, the steel skeleton of a building at
the bottom of Jl. Imam Bonjol was being completed. Foreign cars
were flooding in, French, German, American, Australian and
Italian. Even then it was clear that Japanese vehicles were in
the ascendant, with thousands of motorbikes, cars and trucks on
the roads.

Life for most Indonesians was difficult. A Teachers' Training
Institute lecturer was paid Rp 2,500 a month. While many of them,
including myself, took on private tuition, many could not. One
colleague with whom I worked on a textbook project over the
December holiday of 1970/1971 told me that in Central Java a
middle class father would threaten a rebellious daughter with
marrying her off to a schoolteacher, whose pay was so low.

How the army of becak drivers lived was a mystery as they made
a living with fares of Rp 20 and Rp 25.

In Menteng one Saturday afternoon my driver started to talk to
me about Marxist philosophy and revolution; he gave no indication
of what he had once been -- it was only five years since the
coup. When I described the encounter to a journalist friend he
told me that becak drivers were the only group of workers in
Jakarta who were not registered and it was possible that my
driver was on the run from the authorities for his political
activities. Another alternative was that he was a university
lecturer earning a few extra rupiah to eke out his salary.

Soldiers were everywhere, most of them ill-trained conscripts,
but all with weapons. As I remember the crack troops were the
Diponegoro battalion and the force that wore helmets with a white
band on them. Even so, Jakarta was an exciting place to live in
where the city never slept. When I left with my wife Sasti in
1971 to resume a teaching career in England I had no idea when I
would return.

It was to be another 12 years.

My first glimpse of Jakarta from the KLM 747 on a July
afternoon in 1983 indicated the scale of the changes -- when I
left in 1971 there had been perhaps half a dozen skyscrapers. Now
they dominated the central area and as the jet circled to land at
Halim I saw housing complexes stretching for miles toward Bekasi.

On the ground the first impressions were that not much had
changed. The luggage unloading elevator was rusak (broken) so
there was a lot of scrambling for suitcases. I had fishing rods
and tackle with me and the young woman at customs was making a
fuss -- she had cut her finger on some fish hooks she insisted on
inspecting -- and I was only saved more hassle by one of her
colleagues saying "Go and catch Jaws mister".

My family and nephew were waiting, and on the drive to Grogol
just before dusk it was clear that many changes had come about,
with better road systems and the absence of traffic choking
becak. With the loan of a car we spent the holiday touring --
Bandung, Yogyakarta, Malang, Bali, Surabaya, Semarang and
everywhere we were met with hospitality and everywhere seemed to
be more prosperous than in 1971. Motorbikes had replaced push
bikes and western-American imports, among them Kentucky Fried
Chicken were now part of the landscape.

Recently I had the chance to visit Indonesia again. It was
5:30 p.m. Jakarta time, 10:15 a.m. UK time and I had been
traveling for 20.5 hours. As a historian I was glad that the new
airport was named after Sukarno and Hatta and was impressed.

It was to a Jakarta I had never known that we sped down the
toll road. Neon signs advertised the economic strength of the
Western Pacific Rim and the presence of the multinationals. There
was a thunderstorm followed by a tropical downpour, then we were
turning into the housing complex, home of my brother- and sister-
in-law. In the dusk were the barrows of the hawkers and the small
food stalls. This was a part of the Indonesia I still recognized
and it was from a satay hawker that we purchased our first meal
in Jakarta. It was reassuring to know some things have not
changed and as a visitor my only hope is that the street sellers
can make a living wage in Jakarta and have their small share of
the economic boom that is going on.