Sun, 14 Dec 1997

What is the real meaning of 'foreign aid'

JAKARTA (JP): That motley community haphazardly lumped under the term "expatriates" has been on the receiving end of knowing looks and choice comments in the last few days.

Behind these is the assumption that the foreign guests, many of whom get their salaries in prized U.S. dollars, are now living on easy street with more value for their bucks.

Not the case for yours truly, who gets paid in rupiah, and, if truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. That's not to say that the spendthrift in me has not run through a few mental calculations over the giddy gains to be reaped if my salary were in dollars.

It is the stuff of dreams, and of nightmares. On Tuesday, after the rupiah had dallied dangerously with 5,000 to the dollar, someone needled me that I must be cleaning up at the bank.

It had been a long, stressful day, and I was not in the mood for suffering fools gladly.

"Even if I did get dollars, which I don't, do you really think I would be happy about seeing other people suffering around me, or the hardships ahead?" I berated the increasingly chastened, soon-to-be-former-acquaintance.

No doubt there are some among the expat ranks who are rubbing their hands in glee over their fattened paychecks. Christmas in Cannes? New Year's in Nice? The world really is their oyster.

But these are the same fair-weather friends who, after two or three years, count their money, pack up and head home, woefully none the wiser about Indonesia or its people.

I am not crying poverty here -- expatriates live well in this country, although many do not enjoy the fantastic incomes imagined by Indonesians. But I like to think that the majority of us, including those with all the material trappings of expat life, give something back, instead of just taking the money and running.

We end up here for a host of reasons. It may be a place to find oneself, or escape, an inviting and tolerant port of call when our lives are all at sea. For some, it is their adopted home, a love affair kindled over a lifetime.

Like all relationships, there are peaks and valleys. Expats from the affluent world love to complain about the problems, both imagined and real, of living in Indonesia. Get a group of expats together, and before long the chorus of complaints begins.

Sure, we are often the object of unwanted, unsolicited attention on the streets (that standard "Hey Mister, f*** you", I treat as an interrogative, and answer with a breezy "Dinner and a movie first").

Sometimes, we are literally and figuratively taken for rides by taxi drivers out to test our navigational skills. Consumer service is still a contradiction in terms here. And, yes, it is tough to find hair care products for blonds in the stores.

Not mightily important in the big scheme of things. But before the accusations fly that I am a grievous apologist for this land where allegations of corruption and injustice make the papers every day, let us all remind ourselves that this is a developing country.

And I will come clean that I have been guilty of my own expat hissy fits. Frustrations build up, and, human nature being what it is, we start picking on the little guy.

While Julia Roberts may be able to call up Spago's and elbow her way past the Des Moines businessman for the table by the window, I can shift into ethnocentric, Ugly American mode in childish fits of wanting to get my way.

That's when I need to be brought back to earth with a thud. Thankfully, I recently got that hollow feeling of recognizing my pettiness after recounting a tale of woe to an expatriate colleague, herself married to an Indonesian.

"When I have experiences like that, I find it pays to slap myself in the face and say 'developing country'," she deadpanned.

Sure does the trick. Think about it -- many of us expatriates wouldn't have jobs to fill if this nation wasn't just finding its feet. We would not have the opportunity to live in this relatively safe and accommodating land, and to learn from its rich culture.

Perhaps it is even more important to remember this now, when life is getting tougher and the people we live and work with are beginning to feel the pinch. It may be a long haul, but we are all in this together.

-- Frederick Vickers