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On the Road with Fast Eddie

Fast Eddie


An American Living Abroad

Late in 1999 Fast Eddie wasn't so fast. In fact he was stuck! So he sold EVERYTHING he owned, and decided it was time to explore the world... live life on his terms! With his backpack and passport he left, as Thoreau says, "to suck the marrow out of life!" He is not sure where he is going, but we are invited to tag along. We'll be somewhat behind him, following the trail of breadcrumbs he leaves so we don't lose the way...


Parting Impressions of Indonesia

--An American Living Abroad

Parting Impressions of Indonesia
Exchange rate: $1 = about 8,500 Rupiahs
Sept. 29, 2003
My friends:

I'm close to leaving Indonesia and yet in some ways I've been enjoying it here more than ever. In the past few months I've continued to improve my grasp of the language, discovered a few amenities here and there that've enhanced the quality of my life, and settled even more comfortably into a nice rhythm and lifestyle - one that agrees quite nicely with me.

One thing that's definitely helped is being more physically active, largely due to the arrival of dry season in late spring. Two or three times a week I bicycle out of the city to and through magnificent countryside - usually at least 40 kms (25 miles), and sometimes more. These lengthy bike rides have become close to addictive - a time to exercise, to check out lush tropical scenery, to fraternize with locals, to take time to relax and become lost in my thoughts - that and have periodic hair-raising, near death experiences!

As I've pointed out previously, traffic here is manic: a chaotic, cacophonic free-for-all on roads and streets that blends together all elements of transportation (motorized and otherwise) with domestic/farm animals, mobile food carts and pedestrians. Over time, one who is intrepid enough to navigate through this mobile insanity not only finds the thread of logic and reason that somehow prevails and sustains it, but maybe even learns to appreciate it. What at first nearly gave me a nervous breakdown, now totally invigorates me. What IS paramount is to grasp and accept that anything that might possibly happen probably will happen - and just get on with it.

Pedaling around I've noticed the greatest of contrasts on the road: the solace of timeless stunning views along seldom traveled byways, along with frantic intersections (seldom a traffic light) in the city where he who hesitates is not so much lost, but just never gets anywhere! In the freedom of the countryside there are vast fields with crops of rice, sugar cane, corn and othervegetables framed by coconut palms and active volcanoes. My favorite ride takes me east towards 3500 meter high Mt Semeru, which regularly belches out puffs of smoke. That's quite a sight!

But the intersections and crowded streets (which there is no lack of) are where the genuine sport is, zooming around and through the tangled web of motorbikes, buses, cars, trucks, horse-drawn carts, becaks (I'll explain what this is later), vans, and other bicycles - most of them tooting, waving and playing a modified version of "truth or dare". Avoiding eye contact with other drivers (especially those driving vehicles bigger than you) is paramount, since if they know that you've seen them, then they know that you know they're coming and they figure you'll just yield. Got that? If they DON'T know that you've spotted them they'll hesitate, which is just the second or two you need in order to dart in front of or between them.

Often I'm pedaling and directing traffic at the same time, pointing and gesturing like a spastic symphonic conductor. The timid need not apply for this task! Another approach is to try and get vehicles to stop for you. This is done by extending your arm and waving your hand up and down in limp-wristed manner, much like an ostentatious drag queen strutting around. Done daringly and convincingly enough, this may create the desired result.

Unless you're blessed with more than one pair of eyes it's wise to be ever alert, as potential peril may emerge from all angles at any time. That's why I prefer to pedal against the flow on one-way streets whenever possible - at least most of the potential trouble is in front of me - most of it. Here, you just never know. Drivers have little regard for laws and rules, so it's better not to assume anything on any street or road. So far I've managed to avoid any major incidents, though I have bumped into a few motorbikes and bicycles whose drivers didn't see me coming as they pulled out into traffic without ever looking - common practice here. If you drive or ride a bike in Indonesia the way you're accustomed to in Western countries, you likely to end up in, or even cause, a serious accident.

Microlets (also called angkots or bemos) are a common means of transport, one that I've sometimes utilized in situations where I couldn't ride my bicycle. These are minibuses that run regular routes around and between cities. You flag one down, get on and then yell "kiri" (left) to the driver when you want to exit - the standard fare is 1000R. They are frequent and sometimes have close to twenty people packed into one. Though a bit of a tight squeeze for a guy my size, I love them.

You can also go via ojek: motorcycle riders who hang around bus terminals, markets and crossroads. You bargain a price, hop on the back, and then hang on for dear life! To travel between cities and villages, buses are a good option, though the quality can vary tremendously. Some are respectable, but you may recall what I had to say about the ones I rode on in Borneo. Brutal!

Another alternative is the brightly painted becak - a pedicab or bicycle rickshaw. Becak drivers congregate anywhere likely to produce business and you negotiate a price before you take off. Unlike the bicycle rickshaws in India or Nepal, the cab part is in front of the driver, giving the passenger a clear view of each and every potential collision. Though more expensive than microlets they're still dirt cheap, good fun as well, and the drivers are usually real characters!

Or you can walk, which usually generates a look of bemusement on the part of locals who cannot fathom why someone who can obviously afford to ride would actually make this kind of effort. It also makes you a slower target for the local guys who derive immense enjoyment from yelling out "Hello mister" or some other greeting towards you as loudly as they can, accompanied by a grin on their face like they've just stumbled across the Holy Grail! They seem to never tire of yelling at Westerners - it's like a game to them, it seems. I wish I could say that getting yelled at constantly hasn't irritated me at times.

By far the most popular form of transportation here is the ubiquitous motorbike - it's truly mind-boggling how many there are. Java is a crowded island with about 120,000,000 people on it and it's easy to get the impression that maybe half of them are all out at the same time trying to "Meet the Nicest People on a Honda." Or possibly a Suzuki or Yamaha? In any case, the bikes are always the same type: multi-colored and no bigger than 120 cc. You can buy one here for about 12,000,000R (about $1450) and most are being financed.

Since motorbikes are so common and petrol so inexpensive (Indonesia is an oil producer), the ways in which they're utilized are varied and quite imaginative. I've seen up to five passengers on one at a time, and a family of four is commonplace. I see drivers as young as pre-teen all the time. Helmets are obligatory by law, but often overlooked. What's frightening is to see parents wearing them, the mother riding sidesaddle and cradling an infant who's not. In fact children almost never have a helmet. And many helmets are made of cheap plastic and look like what a polo player might wear, usually without a chin strap.

During a speaking test (the theme was "A special experience I've had"), a student once told me about a horrific accident he'd been through, along with all the gory details about his reconstructive facial surgery. When I asked him if he'd been wearing a helmet the answer was "No". When I asked him if he wears one now the answer was still the same. Most everyone I've talked to here who drives a motorbike has had numerous mishaps, and some proudly show off their scars.

Due to the traffic congestion, motorbikes are very practical - able to dart here and zip there, go the wrong way on streets, and split lanes. They can also be used to transport virtually everything you could ever imagine, often being fitted out with various kinds of baskets or racks. Often it's fresh produce, live chickens and other foods, but I've seen windowpanes, truck fenders, and large saw blades, the latter coiled around the driver! My favorite was a bed frame - fully assembled. In this country, creativity and resourcefulness know no boundaries.

Of course if you wish to travel longer distances you can fly - I've made fourteen flights within Indonesia. In many respects it's not that much different than flying anywhere else, aside from the fact that you'd better be prepared for the "Indonesian Time Factor", which means that punctuality doesn't exist. I always chuckle when handed a boarding pass informing me that boarding will commence thirty minutes prior to departure time. Give me a break! The reality is that you're lucky if boarding has started by the time your plane is scheduled to lift off. One or two hour delays are commonplace and I've had one outright cancellation - with no explanation.

Of course this kind of casual attitude towards time exists in many countries and is not always a bad thing. Westerners' obsession with being in a hurry got old for me in Germany, where commuters would sometimes petulantly stomp their feet and bark out obscenities when the train was merely five minutes late. On the other hand there is such a thing as the so-called happy medium. But you won't find it here.

Now we've come to a subject matter that I'm a bit hesitant to take on, mainly because it's immensely complex in its source and nature: corruption and general disregard for the law. But what the hell, here goes. I think it's safe to state that Indonesia is one of the most corrupt, and in some ways, lawless countries on earth. For example: when a man wants to become a policeman he must pay a 12,000,000R bribe to join the force. No doubt he must borrow money from his extended family and eventually pay it back. How does he do so on a salary of much less than 1,000,000R per month? Simply by extracting bribes from motorists!

Twice I've been on travel vans that were stopped and on the spot "fines" demanded from the drivers, possibly on phantom charges - a roadside shakedown. But most Indonesians just shake their heads and make light of it, justifying it with comments like, "Well the policeman has to feed his family too." That's true, and with the policemen's wages so limited, somewhat understandable. But I find this kind of complacency disturbing in view of how pervasive corruption is here and how much it's held back the country's economic development. Foreign companies are reluctant to invest here and organizations such as the International Monetary Fund are hesitant to involve themselves. Sure this highway robbery is small time, but it's the tip of the iceberg and how can anyone actually condone this behavior, especially by those who's job it is to uphold the law?

That judges and other government officials can be bought off is common knowledge and widely tolerated. Anything you want in this country…and I mean anything …can easily be obtained if you've got enough cash. That's just the way it is. For instance, if you want a driver's license and don't wish to bother with taking a test then you just buy one - the cost being 140,000R. You want to obtain any official document? Then be prepared to line the pocket of some bureaucrat. I had a hard time convincing an Indonesian woman one night that you can't buy a college degree in the U.S., as it's easily done here for the right price. The list goes on and on - it's endless.

Just this week there was a report in the Jakarta Post that salaries are still being paid to about 109,000 government employees who are no longer working. Someone's getting that money! Scandals, bribes, kickbacks, hush money, commissions, blatant patronage and cronyism, dubious surcharges on mass consumer items, endless "administration fees" for permits and licenses, barefaced theft of public funds, etc. - it's a cultural tradition here that's so deeply imbedded in society that any chance it will get cleaned up soon is highly unlikely, if not impossible.

Packages and letters entering or exiting the country are routinely opened and items stolen. I could give you many examples of this from people I know, but on a personal note a Yankee t-shirt was sent to me last April from a friend in the U.S. and I never got it. No doubt it was pilfered and I've half expected to see some lowlife postal employee walking around town wearing it.

And it's not just within the government. On a trip to Sempu Island, a place I spoke about in my last On the Road, our car was rear-ended by a tailgating motorcyclist when we suddenly stopped to avoid a large truck hogging the road. Our driver Sis got out to check on the two guys on the bike and administered some basic first aid, as the passenger was banged up pretty badly. What then transpired was a case of classic extortion. The other driver demanded that Sis pay him 30,000R. Now get this: it was the other guy's fault for following too closely and he'd put a dent in our rear bumper, but he wanted money from us! And he told Sis that if he didn't pay up, he'd follow us to where we were going (our destination was obvious) and damage his car. He'd seen Westerners in the car and figured there was some money to be made.

Whenever altercations occur on highways (and there are plenty of those!), "might makes right!" There's no point in calling the police: they'll just extract a cut for themselves. In many parts of Indonesia (particularly Madura) if a driver causes a fatal accident, bystanders might just kill him/her on the spot - instant "due process of law". The most aggressive motorists here are bus drivers - racing hell-bent to their destination, sometimes forcing other vehicles off the road. When they do kill someone through negligence, the power and financial resources of the large bus companies almost always preclude any compensation for the victim's family. So consequently "frontier justice" may prevail. When another bus from the same company rolls into town and stops for passengers, locals might then force off all the travelers and torch it. On one occasion I saw such a burned out shell alongside the road.

Again from the Post, a few months ago a goat was stolen from a village in Sumatra. So the family that owned the goat proceeded to summarily march off and kill the thief. Then tit for tat vengeance ensued and the thief's family did away with the killer. And so on. This version of the Hatfields and McCoys didn't cease until the army stepped in - but not before dozens of homes and shops were destroyed and eight people were slaughtered.

One day after coming out of a supermarket, I was climbing on to my bicycle when a youth came racing out of the store and down the street. Three store employees quickly followed and took chase, yelling loudly. I headed off after them on my bike to check out all the excitement. I soon encountered the four of them returning, the thief being firmly gripped and dragged by two of the guys while being viciously punched, kicked and elbowed by the third. He was gushing blood, and it's more than likely that the police were never called. In many cases punishment is swiftly dealt out on the spot - including death. There is virtually no patience for, or faith in, conventional justice.

But this is a country still experimenting with democracy, as it was as recently as 1997 that a brutal dictator (Soeharto) ruled the roost, ruthlessly suppressing any opposition while pillaging an estimated forty billion dollars (U.S.) for his family. Next year's election will be the first time a president has ever been democratically chosen by the people. That is unless the army doesn't step in again if it disapproves of the results. Violence has historically been part and parcel of political change. The Indonesians are not a people familiar with controlling their own destiny, and even with a so-called democratic government, all the wealth has been skimmed off the top by corrupt politicians and army generals. It's a country with a shaky future and there's a reason why its citizens are less than optimistic while at the same time being very opportunistic.

In general, Indonesians are calm reserved people who find public displays of emotion inappropriate and even rude. To show your anger is unacceptable. But at times the frustration that they must feel and are continually holding in comes out in violence. One place I witnessed this was at a football game.

Though badminton is the so-called national sport here, there's no doubt that football is truly king. As in much of the world it generates a devotion that befits a religion. Kids and young adults (male only) play everywhere, and their enthusiasm is not diminished in the least by a lack of quality facilities - some of the pitches are ghastly. But what amazes me is that despite this passion and the fact that Indonesia is the world's fourth most populous country with 365 days a year of perfect weather to practice in, their national team regularly gets its ass kicked by the likes of Qatar!

Malang boasts a stadium and a professional team: Arema. They suck. I've been to two games, squeezing myself in among the hordes of screaming supporters to watch two teams ineptly fumble and bumble the ball for ninety minutes. The offensive strategy seemed to be: let's just kick the ball up the pitch (field) and see what the hell happens. The first game I saw resulted in a loss against a team from Denpasar (Bali), due to a late goal.

What then ensued was basically a riot. Some fans (which is short for fanatic, if you didn't know) poured over the barricades and on to the pitch, while others proceeded to hurl whatever they could get their hands on at the opposition players and coaches, as well as the officials. Joining in the fray where a sizable contingent of riot police who seemed more interested in getting in their licks than restoring order. They mercilessly beat and kicked every fan they could get near and it was a total free-for-all! Debris continued to rain on to the pitch. To their credit the Arema players did their best to try and protect their counterparts from Denpasar, but I saw many staggering to safety with head wounds. The whole scene was shameful, sickening and substantially diminished my opinion of Indonesian youth.

Sometimes violence erupts towards Indonesians of Chinese descent. Though the Javanese control the government and military, the Chinese dominate finance - especially trade and commerce. In fact, according to an article I read in the Jakarta Post, ethnic Chinese are approximately 3% of the population yet control over 60% of the economy! There's a jealousy towards them and throughout Indonesia's history there have been periodic massacres of the Chinese. And until 2000 they couldn't celebrate their customs, beliefs and holidays openly or retain their Chinese names, and there are still some sixty discriminatory laws officially in place. Ethnic Chinese tend to remain isolated within their own communities, and high walls topped by fearsome spikes, coils of barbed wire, or other security devices surround their spacious houses. They look like fortresses - and many are. Even our relatively modest house has a locked gate and security patrols the neighborhood twenty-four hours a day.

I've found no problems at EF where I teach. The classes there, which consist of the rich kids of Malang, are about 50% ethnic Chinese. But the students don't seem to get caught up in politics; they're too busy trying to excel and get ahead, as the competition is fierce both in school and the job market. But what surprised me while teaching at EF is that, unlike Germany and Poland where my students wanted to learn English for use in current or future job scenarios, here the students are taking classes primarily in order to obtain higher grades in their high school and university English courses. So although we emphasize communicative English (speaking and writing), their focus is on grammar and structure. I've had students who could quote grammar rules forward and backward, yet couldn't put more than three words together in coherent spoken form. In the classroom they're quite shy to speak up and are terrified of making mistakes, the shame of embarrassment hanging heavily over them, despite the teacher's encouragement and support.

The hundreds of hours I've spent in the classroom have provided me with a window into the thinking of Indonesian people - at least the segment of it I've taught. Certainly the Javanese and Islamic views regarding morality and their way of life has become clear to me, some of it admirable, some of it hypocritical and a bit archaic. For one thing, the dominance of the male is indisputable and accepted. Though at least half of our students are female (as is Indonesia's president) and good career opportunities abound for women, to quote verbatim one male university student, "Man is everything!" A high percentage of women also believe this and will tell you "men are smarter than women".

There's a huge double standard and in many ways women are second-class citizens. Men are extremely protective and patronizing towards "their" women: insisting that they do not smoke in public; sometimes harassing Western men who date them; lording over them in the family; perpetuating the policy of the arranged marriage, etc. A man can legally take up to four wives and also divorce his wife immediately if he discovers on their wedding night that she's not a virgin. Yet it's widely known and basically accepted that many men, both married and unmarried, have mistresses and visit prostitutes. At night hordes of young men hang out in groups all over Malang, smoking cigarettes and talking, while nearly all the young women are at home under a strict curfew. No matter what anyone tells you, in Indonesia it's clearly a man's world.

Since arriving here over a year ago, I've promised several readers that I'd write about teaching here. This is my last chance, so in addition to what I've already said, I'll add a few more comments. The classes at English First are usually about 10 to 12 students, ranging in age from 13 to about 22. That's typical, although we get the occasional older participant. There are also two children's levels: Trailblazers (9-12) and Highfliers (6-8). (A new level of 4-5 is just now being added.)

Since I'd wanted to gain experience teaching children, I agreed to it. Our teaching revolves around interactive learning with a variety of activities, including games, and the kid's classes even more so - sometimes with singing and drawing. After all, those of you who've worked with young learners this age are well aware that their attention span is roughly equivalent to someone high on crack cocaine! As it's a real status thing for parents to have their kids being taught by a bule (Westerner), in a way I was a high-priced baby sitter. But genuine learning surely does take place in the classroom, and for the most part it's been a good experience for me. Plus it certainly looks good on my resume for future employment opportunities. In my career field (Teaching English as a Second Language), teaching children is developing into a major wave of the future.

Because respect towards older people and those in authority is so much a part of Asian culture, the students always address me initially as "Sir" or "Mister Eddie", though I discourage that display of formality. I've had very few problems in the classroom, however the students tend to be undisciplined (like almost everyone else here) and I've used a squirt gun to "remind them", for example, that only one person should be speaking at a time. That approach has been highly effective, but I cannot imagine utilizing it in Germany, or in America where I'd probably be fired and/or sued!

People's names in Indonesia are quite unique from those in the West and I've encountered a few I've found to be rather memorable. Imagine trying to keep a straight face when addressing a student as Nasti (girl) or Usuk (boy).

My two favorite definitions from students:

* Naive: "the person who drives the ship".
* Banker: "a hole in the ground where you hide during war".

For a test my young Trailblazers were instructed to write about what students "Should and shouldn't do" in class. One student responded, "Always shit down." In a Business English class I taught for a few Saturdays students were given the assignment of creating a business "on paper". One group selected a seafood restaurant and in the elaborate outline listed a few menu items it would specialize in. Included was "Fried Crap". Keeping with the same theme, here's my latest in Unappetizing Brand Names.

* Tofu called "Poo".
* A re-hydration beverage called "Pocari Sweat".
* A drink called "Love Juice".

BorobudurOverall, it's been a remarkable and unforgettable year. Among other things I've seen a lot of amazing places, scenery and wildlife; experienced some fascinating culture; enjoyed what I consider to be a perfect climate; relished the benefits of having a housekeeper; met many interesting people and made several good friends I hope to keep forever; learned a great deal more about teaching; become a more patient person (I hope!); lost about twenty pounds; become a better cook; and accumulated many lasting memories. My next destination: Mexico.

Stay tuned for the details - I can't wait to find out what happens myself!

Peace,

-------------Fast Eddie

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