The Jakarta Post, Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Some people are sensitive to the social problems around them. For most of us, though, current events are just words on paper or images on TV that have very little effect on our everyday lives.
Consider trains, for example. How many of us have ever bothered to look beyond the annoying delays they cause us in our cars or buses?
We look at the beat up old carriages, with people sitting precariously on the rooftops and hanging out the windows. But do we see the vibrant community that goes on inside these carriages, or how people’s livelihoods are tied to them?
I didn’t. Not until recently when it stopped being convenient for me to take the bus to work, and the train became my only refuge from monstrous taxicab fares.
I commute on the Jakarta-Rangkas Bitung route, on which there are several types of trains: the clean, air-conditioned express trains that run only in the early mornings and early evenings, the not-so-clean electric trains, and at the bottom of the ladder, the diesel trains.
The diesel trains are relics from the 1960s. Their carriages are filthy with decades of unwashed dust and rust, their broken wooden seats lack covers, and their spit-lined floors could use a good scrub.
For the first few trips, these were the only things I noticed. That’s probably because I was too busy clutching my bag to my chest and making sure my cellphone was still in my pocket.
But as soon as I relaxed, I found a whole different community.
There were no electric lights, so glimpses of the other lives on the diesel trains came by way of passing vendors with their candles.
There are vendors for anything imaginable. Thirsty? There are cold drink vendors, hot coffee vendors, and peddlers of energy drinks and jamu (traditional herb drinks).
Feeling a bit peckish? Just wait, and soon food vendors will come by offering Sumedang fried tofu, tape uli (sticky rice eaten with fermented black rice), pempek and otak-otak (two styles of fish cake, one eaten with soy sauce and vinegar, the other with peanut sauce).
If you want to sample foods from other regions of Indonesia, there are sellers of sweet oranges from Pontianak (West Kalimantan), salak (snake fruit) from Bali, salted goose eggs from Brebes (Central Java), and small limes to make Manado’s (North Sulawesi) famous dabu-dabu chili.
Need some glue? There are vendors selling it, as well as those peddling scissors, nail clippers, energy-saving light bulbs, plastic combs, children’s activity books, ballpoint pens, and hair clips.
For entertainment, prepare to be amused by child buskers singing the latest top 10 songs from the Indonesian charts, blind singers with their tape recorders around their necks, and young men with an ensemble of guitars and a home-made portable drums. You might even see a monkey act complete with drums and gongs.
These people offer their goods from carriage to carriage, often greeting regular commuters in friendly tones, or even rough banter.
And what of the passengers? Here are some snatches of overheard conversation to give you an idea:
“You should go to Achong if you want a mikrolet license, he knows the ropes, he can get you in no matter how glutted the route,” advised a middle-aged man with a tummy.
“The boss really relies on Tuty, that’s how he is, once he feels he can trust someone, he just leaves office matters to her entirely,” a lady in a neat blazer and skirt said to another woman.
“There’s a dangdut show at Pondok Ranji tonight, looks like good business if I go, there’s bound to be lots of thirsty people,” a man with a bucketful of iced drinks said.
“She can’t hear us, what’s the girl listening to, I wonder. Hey, do you think I could ask to take her home?” a young man asked his smirking friends.
“I never said I’d get you in trouble, you’re like my brother, you took care of me on the street, I’d never do that to you,” said a dirty-faced boy with a crew cut.
It doesn’t matter that passengers often need to ride on the roof so as not to be late for work, or that accidents often happen due to faulty equipment, or that the trains are often delayed.
At only Rp 1,500 (about 17 U.S. cents) a ride, the trains provide the most affordable means of transportation into Jakarta for these people. For some, it’s the only affordable means.
Taking the train was an eye-opener for me. Never again will I complain of delays when the railway-crossing gate closes to let a train pass. After all, it may mean someone’s livelihood for the day.