What does race have to do with humanity?

Dewi Santoso, Jakarta

I was born and raised here. Yet, as a woman of Chinese descent, I was given the impression, by my parents and others, this was not really my country. That I was a second-class citizen who just happened to be born and raised in Indonesia.

This belief seemed not so far from the truth when I encountered discrimination for the first time on a visit to Yogyakarta with my high school friends. There were eight of us, half were boys.

We were walking along Jl. Malioboro. Suddenly, a guy around the same age as us confronted one of my male friends and said: "Hey, you stupid Chinese! What are you doing in my country? Go back to China, you bloody s**t!"

I was appalled -- "we" were appalled. How could he say such a thing? What gave him the right to claim that this was "his" country?

Well, excuse me for being Chinese, but I don't think it's a sin. He was no more Indonesian than I was. I learned to speak Bahasa as a child, as did he. So, who was he to claim that this was his country and not mine?

For years I tried to forget the incident -- and tried not to hate ethnic Indonesians -- I thought doing so would lower myself to the same level as that guy.

And, surprisingly, during my college years one of my best friends was an ethnic Indonesian -- which confirmed my view that not all ethnic Indonesians were like that stupid guy.

But then, just as I began to gain respect for ethnic Indonesians, a tragedy that claimed many Chinese-Indonesian lives took place.

It was May 13, 1998 -- a week before the fall of Soeharto's regime -- students demanding that Soeharto step down were demonstrating in Semanggi cloverleaf bridge when all of a sudden, a gunshot sounded. The demonstration stopped; but a riot started.

Suddenly, the streets of Jakarta were in chaos. This event was used by irresponsible people to heighten the clash between Chinese-Indonesians and native Indonesians, which finally reached its limit.

Hundreds of people were killed in a matter of hours; 1,200 according to the Volunteer Team of Humanity. Men, women, children, there were no exceptions. So long as they were Chinese, their lives were taken.

Some were killed straightaway, others, especially women -- young or old -- were raped first and then killed. Their homes were burned, their possessions, looted.

It did not stop there. The area where Chinese-Indonesians usually did business was badly damaged. Chinatown was destroyed. The country, according to the perpetrators, had to be "cleansed" from Chinese influences.

It was not an act of bigotry, it was not an act of prejudice, it was not an act of violence. It was an act of anarchy, a perverse act -- an act that deserved to be rebuked.

It was the darkest and most painful period ever experienced by the Chinese people of Indonesia, who, ironically, were taught to love and make sacrifices for the country -- and yet, have never really been admitted to the country as legitimate citizens. Rather, they were viewed as "outsiders", strangers from another land.

I was there when all of this happened. I was supposed to be on a three-month spring vacation. I was supposed to enjoy my time -- hanging out with friends and having fun. Instead, I encountered one of the most brutal acts ever committed by one ethnic group against another. I was fortunate enough to be able to flee from the country. What about those who couldn't afford just to pack up and leave?

When an order to stop the injustice finally came, the loss of human lives had surpassed one thousand. The whole city was in ruins. The whole nation mourned. A country was shattered. Trust was broken.

To Chinese people, Indonesia will never be the same. Chinese-Indonesians cannot go through a day without remembering the May 14 horror. And, I found myself asking "Is being Chinese a sin? Or is it just that native Indonesians are ruthless?"

I could not find the answer, even now, in what a lot of people call the "reform era."

It's supposed to be the era when both Chinese-Indonesians and native Indonesians live together in peace and harmony. Honestly, it's quite difficult for me to believe this as I encountered another unpleasant incident recently.

My mom and I were in an elevator on our way to a restaurant. There were four or five other people -- I couldn't tell as I was busy talking with my mom in a Chinese dialect.

All of a sudden, I heard a guy say: "I'm sorry, but this is Indonesia, not China."

Both my mom and I were dumbfounded. Would you tell that to Westerners? Why Chinese? What have we done? Is this what we call the "reform era?" Is this what's left of our country after liters of blood were sacrificed for better governance?

I don't think I'll ever find the answer as racism is a complicated thing. Even in the United States, there are some rednecks who hate African-Americans.

Being in the so-called minority, I only wish that this country could learn its lesson from the past, that racism will bring nothing but destruction to the people and the country's economy. Until people realize that racial discrimination is a sinful act, Indonesia will not rise as an economically and politically strong and powerful country.

The writer is journalist with The Jakarta Post.