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It all started with this guy's writing. I found it on my friend's Facebook account. I thought the title was interesting since I just experienced the same thing quite recently before I found this story. It's probably one of the harshest stories about Jakarta (and/or Indonesia) that I've read recently. The writer, Andre Vltchek, wrote Jakarta as "the perfect pacifist city". That alone has triggered some questions. He then went on telling his experience riding the city train. The reliable PT KAI and its flocks of metal cages running on tracks have fascinated the writer to a certain degree of skepticism.
I have several times had the chance to experience the city train in Jakarta, or what we named as "kereta komuter" because people use the train to commute from Jakarta-Bogor and all of the other places that exist between Jakarta and Bogor. I used the train to go Depok when there wasn't kereta komuter available yet and another time with kereta komuter to an area called Lenteng Agung. The first trip was on an economy train with no AC and it was moderately full. Lots of people were trying to sell you some shit that you didn't need... the usual. Since I was traveling alone and a bit worried with local copet (pickpockets), I stood close to the door. It was open, of course. How could anyone breathe if it was closed? We'd be dead in 10 minutes. Anyway, standing close to the open door gave me a full access of outside view. It wasn't great. It's almost accepted as a normality to see slum areas close to any railways in Jakarta. And not only in Jakarta. Of course, when the president or other sleazy top government officials go for a train ride for some unknown reasons, the illegal settlements along the railway will magically disappear. And magically reappear maybe two weeks after.
The second trip to Lenteng Agung wasn't that much different. I took the commuter train, hoping I would have a bit humane trip to a punk community's house. It was air-conditioned, but since I left on rush hours, I was squashed by too many people in the train. It's clear that we need better public transportation. Referring to Vltchek's article, there have been too many abandoned plans for better infrastructure especially for improving public transportation in Jakarta. Can one still hope after seeing too many failures?
Vltchek, in his long article, said, "It feels that the entire nation, including its capital, gave up long time ago. People are living their lives in this monstrous megacity, not even bothering to demand, to protest or to complain." I reckon that's one of the hardest challenge faced by this nation. Just like the slum areas on the railways, does the government actually make a real action to improve the people's life? No, city officials will just destroy their shacks and temporary houses when it's time for an official visit. I don't know how the poor may think or feel about the way the government treats the poverty issue. Are they mad? Are they disappointed? Or maybe they just don't give a damn anymore and just find a way to survive today and tomorrow? Vltchek thought that Indonesian people, Jakarta people in particular, have given up all hope for any improvement. Is this true? If yes, I wish the predicted mega-flood in Jakarta would come sooner (and as I'm writing this, it's raining like crazy outside).
Maybe about a week ago, I went to a film festival. The opening movie titled Negeri Di Bawah Kabut tells how climate change changes the life of farmers in one village in Central Java. Related to what I have written so far, this movie shows me how poor Indonesian farmers are. Of course, I've known this fact for some time, but this movie kinda updated me on how still poor so many people in Indonesia are until this very day. They can't send their kids to school because they can't pay the "uniform" money, a compulsory for Indonesian students. Another form of government's idiocy and insensitivity addressing the country's problem.
Watching the movie was like a slap on the face. At least for me. I realised how maybe I don't value things like I should do. One million and three hundreds rupiah means another chance to plant the next batch of vegetables. One million and three hundred rupiah in Jakarta means you can't live in a rented room for a month and eat properly. Of course Jakarta and one remote village somewhere in Central Java IS different. It's the same money, yet it has different value.
Can Indonesia improve wholly? Will the government take care the poor and helpless just like what it's written in the constitutions? I honestly don't know. One friend even said too many people are fed up: It's better to think what one should do tomorrow at work than thinking about the country's problems. So, how will Indonesia and its people end up in the future if we all are fed up?
Humans cannot be satisfied. That's an old saying in this country. It's that nagging feeling saying that you are STILL not getting what you want.
I have this nagging feeling. I also see this in other people. I had been expecting a new job, a better payment and security. I got the job, better payment, still no security. But the bright side is I don't have to go to the office. I thought it was an advantage. Yes, it's so good that I don't have to come to the office and I can literally work from anywhere in the world. Like, in my friend's bedroom in KL for instance. But then, living a day to day of office-less situation, I found myself feeling quite mad. There's no one to talk to (directly, not computer chatting) or to observe or even to despise. I know I sound like I'm being ungrateful and lazy, because I still can have a "normal" social life even without an office life. True, but it's different.
Office interaction, strangely enough, gives me a feeling of attachment. Like I belong to something. I don't identify myself solely from where I work, but it's one of the things that identify me. Having none of that kinda confuses me. It's the transition of not having to "go" to work every morning. Because now, work is getting out of the bed and turning on my computer and internet. Even the office space offers me comfort. The spacious room, large windows... I have once mentioned about these things. It helps me feeling less confined when I have to go home to my little bleak room. The people can be super annoying, but I learn things from these annoying people. The simplest will be: how to be not annoying like these people.
A friend of mine was sharing the same thoughts. It's the new job in his case. He felt like he had traded his simple easy working life with a chaotic busy yet interesting new work which pays better to. He sighed and told me that he had been questioning the reason why he took the new job. And I laughed and told him that's exactly what I had in mind about my choice.
I'm sure lots of people want to be in my shoes right now, job wise. Not actual shoes, they are quite small. I would love to be in my shoes as well, say, if I were a different person. But I guess I cannot be really satisfied with what I have at the moment. Not that I'm being ungrateful. Yes, I'm glad I took this job. But, if only it can be a tiny bit better...
My questions are (to myself): to what extend? Isn't there any boundaries? Should I make those boundaries? Should I stop expecting more at some point in the future and just feel contend? How can I achieve that, if it's achievable? Or, sod it, I'm human it's normal to always want more in life?
Then again, if I looked back, I was okay when I was staying with my friend. It felt a bit weird having to work and holiday at the same time, but it worked. Maybe that's what I need. A companion? Oh damn, I am getting old.
I'm still recovering from recent illness. It was probably one of the worst ill moments of this year, which I took really bad because I was alone and no one actually knew I was ill apart from very few friends. I had been having fever for four days before I decided it's high time to go back home to my parents' house and got proper treatment and care. Luckily I did that because further blood test showed Salmonella in my blood, which meant I got the infamous typhoid. A level 4 typhoid, whatever that meant. Oh, plus measles. Hence, the outrageous fever.
Anyway, the (more or less) 10 days of laying down helpless, relying a lot on my mum and dad, I realised how lonely and fragile I was. Well, I've known I'm fragile in terms of having a rather weak and sickly body. Trust me I've tried to take care of myself, but sometimes my body just fails me. I guess I didn't get the healthy edition when God created the body. God, can I ask for a new healthier body?
I was also reminded about my parents/family. I couldn't remember the last time I was held by my dad, and it happened when I passed out on the living room. He was the one lifted me off the floor and then held me tight in his arms. When I started to get my consciousness back, I saw my dad holding me and my mum's panic-stricken face in front of me. It was like a dream, but I remembered that despite my high fever, my dad's cheek felt warm. So were his arms. And my mum felt soft and I felt safe when I leaned on her on our way to the emergency room. I realised how much I love them, despite the occasionally I'm-going-mad feeling when staying with my parents for more than five days.
I am getting better , but I'm still feeling rather claustrophobic for staying in a room for more than three days. My parents' bedroom is significantly larger than the "space" that I have here in this city, but I couldn't stay too long in a room now. So the office became a weird comfort, for the spacious room and bright lights and huge windows. That sounds weird, but that's how it is.
I know I still feel lonely, but I'm learning to not give too much attention to it. A friend told me to meet new people and just hang out at different events. I realised I don't want new friends, I want my old friends: the ones who have been in my life for ages and ages and ages. The one who is now grieving for his sick mother; the one who is now just entering marriage life; the one who is now thinking about serious career and marriage; the one who is struggling finding excitement in life; the one who is now doing things that I don't really understand but apparently it's good for him. I want these people, I want them close to me. But alas, that can't be done. Maybe I should find new friends.
Being sick can be good. It gives me time to think a lot, to ponder on things which I have neglected so far because I was too busy, or so I said to myself. I know now that I don't have any special feelings for anyone. I thought I had; now I think I was exaggerating. I know now that I'm quite depressed with my current job. Not the job mind you; it's the welfare situation. I also know that I am confused with my future plan. Everything is pretty messed up, although I said it is not. Worry much? Maybe. Maybe not.
I'm glad I'm not sick anymore...for now at least. I'm glad I had been ill, because then I realised different things. Now, where did I put the soul charger away?
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