Indonesian Diary Entry

18 November 2001.

It has been a relatively quiet weekend, but not dead. The big local things are the beginning of Ramadan and the onset of more rain. Those have also affected my routine.

Ramadan is incredibly interesting. First, if one has any doubt of what it means to be in a country where religion and government are intertwined, this eliminates that doubt. I knew there was a minister of religion (no pun intended), and I knew that religion weaved its way in and out of daily life, but this past week was still a bit surprising. Early in the week there was a controversy over whether the bars, discos, massage parlors, and other entertainment spots would be allowed to be open in Jakarta. (Because I read the Jakarta Post, I see much more about Jkta than anyplace else.) Apparently the city council had voted that they be closed (with the exception of luxury hotels where no reasonable Muslim would find him/herself anyway) but the Governor of the City had not signed the ordinance into law as he was awaiting some word from the regional or national government. So the word finally did come through, the Governor signed, and those things are now closed for a month. I believe Solo has a similar ban. (There is a minor personal side to this as I have been planning to get a massage. I’m not sure how that will be handled. Again, sic.) Then the TV stations got into the act. Programming was changed so that no violence, sex, or similar attractions of the emotions would be shown. Again, this is for a month. I can’t tell that there really has been any difference in programming, and in fact this morning there will be a live telecast of the Lennox Lewis fight, which I guess, doesn’t fall into the forbidden categories. Since TV here is only an excuse for endless ads for shampoo and other HBA products, I don’t know how anyone could spot significant change. There are more prayer spots (on the private channels as well as the state run ones), so that must count. But the most surprising part of the week leading up to Ramadan was the minor controversy over when it was to begin (and hence when it was to end). There are two schools of thought on this. One is that it begins on the new moon, as astronomers calculate it. This is similar to the calculation of major Christian and Jewish holidays. The other is that the new moon is calculated by a group of scholars, etc., who go out and look up in the air in search of a sliver of moon. If it is cloudy when they are looking then the holiday is delayed one day. As there are two schools, there are also two groups in Indonesia that declare the holiday. One is the government, through the Ministry of Religion. The other is Muhammadia, which is a political party and a Muslim group. (If you aren’t confused yet, there are a number of other Muslim political parties, but Muhammadia runs schools, hospitals, and lots of other things as well, and is a major force in society.) Well, wouldn’t you know that Muhammadia and the government disagreed on the starting date, so many in Indonesia began their fasting month on Friday, but many others did so on Saturday.

So now the month is underway for all concerned and it does have effect on my life. The family I live with is devout, so they honor the fast. (It seems that everyone who professes to be a Muslim honors the fast, but I can’t vouch for anyone other than my immediate contacts.) That means that they cannot eat, drink, engage in sex, and some other less interesting things, from the first sign of sunlight until sunset. Those times are published in the newspaper and I found them surprising. The first sign of sunlight comes at about 3:50 AM, and the sunset is designated as about 5:50 PM. So what people do is rise at about 3 AM (there is a call on loudspeakers from all the Mosques at that time), eat something, and then often go back to bed. Some people go to the Mosque following this repast. Then nothing to eat or drink (somehow sexual urges seem rather beside the point) until 5:50. At that time some sweets are consumed, followed by a trip to the Mosque for evening prayers, followed by a large meal. Then off to sleep, and another day. I am told by some that the hardest days are the first few, while the body is adjusting. Then others tell me that the hardest days are the last ten, as by that time the toll of fasting begins to work on the body. In any case, this is not an easy time for the mass of the population. This includes students, who often fall asleep at their desks, and casual sports enthusiasts, who find their skills slipping away. (This is what I call an opportunity.)

Here are two brief stories from yesterday’s paper. First, police in Bandung (Indonesia’s 3rd largest city) seized 120,00 pornographic VCDs and more than 29,000 bottles of alcoholic beverages from the city’s black market on the eve of Ramadan. “This is a serious warning to the local people that the police are serious in fighting against alcoholic drinks and pornographic VCDs” said the Deputy Chief of Provincial Police. The very next article is about garbage in Surabaya (the 2nd largest city in Indonesia). This reports about the serious accumulation of garbage, posing a health hazard. “The accumulation of garbage in the city could be a serious disaster to residents unless the problem is solved immediately,” said the Minister of Environment (for Indonesia). [The Minister said] he hoped the problems could be solved in the next two weeks so the residents could enjoy the holiday celebrated at the end of Ramadan, Idhul Fitri. I wonder if anyone else read these two articles and wondered, is something wrong here. Porn and whiskey must be removed immediately, but we have serious concerns about accumulations of garbage? Maybe they should put the Deputy Chief in charge of garbage and the Minister in charge of porn. That sounds like a win-win situation. Or maybe they could declare garbage to be porn. That would be more like how things are handled.

The rainy season is building. During August and September it hardly rained. During October it rained a bit more in the afternoon. Now it is raining just about every afternoon, and quite hard at times. Yesterday it rained from about 2 PM until I went to sleep. Throughout the rain, and the rainy season, the motor scooters, motor cycles, and the ubiquitous bejaks move along at their usual speeds. This brings my fear of transportation to a new level. Not only are these vehicles operating at the usual speed in what is occasionally very heavy rain, but the operators are sometimes in rain ponchos that seem to cover everything including the eyes. Think of those pictures of Afghan women in cloth over their entire body, change the cloth to unbreathing vinyl or nylon, and you have the right image. Now think of yourself crossing the street in the vicinity of such a driver on a rapidly moving motorized vehicle. And finally, add one more thing – all tires are close to treadless. There is no such thing as a vehicle too old to be driven. A Vespa of 1960s origin is a treasure, and a Suzuki from twenty years back is an opportunity for resurrection. Tread on tires is not a consideration. Now, are you still willing to cross in front of one of these on a rainy day? Not I.

Last night I went to dinner at the home of someone on the faculty at UNS, a fellow who has been something of my official guide/counterpart/etc. He is extremely nice, and lived a few years in Australia so his English (and that of his family) is excellent. (I should add that he and his family are Christian so the fast did not affect our dinner.) Without going into detail or carrying on about it, I have been a little lonely lately and the dinner invitation was somewhat forced by me in a conversation the day before. Anyway, it was my first time spent in the home of anyone other than the family with which I live. It was a little too short, but very enjoyable. Indonesians have a practice that I envy – during meals they tend not to talk. They will eat and then talk after they are finished. I on the other hand, like any westerner, abhor silence at meals. Consequently, I find myself talking liking a mynah to fill the spaces. Not too much of a problem, but I also feel obligated to be eating like a lower animal to show how much I enjoy the food (which is an incredible understatement as I love the food). Therein lies a problem, or a challenge: to eat, talk, smile, laugh, at the same time. If nothing else I’m sure I left a strong impression on my hosts. At one time I realized that I had stored substantial amounts of rice in my cheeks as I was trying to eat and finish a story about Tierra del Fuego at the same time. This image to dredge up is that of a chipmunk that has discovered a trove of nuts. As we were settling into the fruit at the end of the meal a call came that I was to be picked up in 15 minutes or so. That was too quick, but there was nothing I could do about it. So, I gulped down a goodly amount of papaya and mango, and toddled off into the rainy night (chewing most of the way home).

Today, Sunday, I have a few things on the docket. I am supposed to go to a class of English language (the same group I went on a trip with a few weeks ago), for reasons that are a little obscure. I think I will be a semi-official chatter. Then after that I will go to a local department store to do some minor shopping (including a jar of peanut butter for “just in case” provisioning). Such little trips are always fun as they involve being in an environment where no English is spoken. There is an old one-liner: “I just flew in from the coast and boy are my arms tired.” My own variant on this should be: “I just came back from talking to people in town and boy are my arms tired.” It is a little like a fat person jogging. They use up a lot of energy. In this case, when the words don’t come to the mouth, they come to the hands and arms.