Jakarta Burning

I was coming back from the airport last week and one of the highway flyovers launches traffic into the air and sweeps south toward the city.  As we made the turn there was a solid plume of black rising into the sky.  From afar, it looked like an entire city block was burning.  I wondered about some terrorist incident as we’re all conditioned to do, I guess.  

One thing about Jakarta is they haven’t really gotten into the whole 24 hour news cycle. You can’t flip on the radio and hear second by second coverage.  TV crews aren’t out scouring a neighborhood for the edentulous of the world so they may garble a statement into a microphone.  

I asked the cabbie what was going on.  “Looks like a fire.” he said. Yep.

I read in the paper a day or two later that it was a fairly large apartment/housing area that caught fire.  It was a pretty densely populated area.  The fire started via short circuit, they thought and quickly swept through the complex. This happens quite commonly.  In some places during rainstorms, water drains out the outlets in the walls and onto the floor.  

Fire trucks couldn’t get close enough, because of the narrow streets and there are no hydrants, so they used an old fashioned bucket brigade to pull water out of the river to help fight the blaze. Given the condition of the water who knows if they helped or hindered their cause.

3000 people were left homeless. 1200 homes were destroyed. It is that densely populated. Do keep in mind that the homes were maybe the size of a dining room. 

Perhaps miraculously, only one 18 year old man lost his life.  A lot of people lost everything.  But perhaps sadder than being made homeless by a fire, I read where one man gathered his property and all his remaining belongings and sold the lot for $23 dollars and left town.  Yes, he left town with nothing but $23.00.

Four days later, we were riding to work and we came upon a 20 story building that was a total inferno right there on the city’s main street.  Flames licking up the side of the building.  Glass and metal tumbling to the ground.  There were fire trucks there and lots of people craning their necks to the sky, but no apparent water was being sprayed that we could see.  It looked like a total loss.

Many locals speculate that because it was a government building, the fire was arson in an attempt to cover up some sort of corruption. Corruption has been big in the news here lately.  The newspapers wouldn’t speculate.  The fire spread it seems, because the pump that was supposed to supply the sprinklers was broken that day, so no water flowed.  

I’m told by a colleague who watched from across the street, that they tried to extend their ladder as high as it would go and spray water, but it wouldn’t reach.  Then they tried to spray water from the building next door but it couldn’t reach.  25 fire trucks were on the site at one time and they fought this blaze for 18 hours before they got it under control.

The city of Jakarta has vowed to step up inspections of fire safety systems, saying that building owners have been far too slack for far too long.  The crackdown will begin immediately and those that are found in violation will receive a sticker.

Said sticker will be required to be placed on the front door to serve as a warning to those who may rent or use the building that the premises are not safe from fire.

Sigh….

All the talk of lack of fire safety has reinforced a fear in our youngest.  “I am terrified that something dreadful will happen to one of us and we are going to be totally screwed and we’ll die wherever we fall. I mean we're living on the ring of fire!"

Indeed all week, everywhere I go, I've found my eyes drifting upwards looking hopefully for sprinklers or fire extinguishers only to to be disappointed.  I’ve seen long hallways with an exit only at one end. Our dog searches in vain for a fire hydrant on the street. All the stuff that we sort of take for granted and ignore. None of it is there.

To be sure, I’m gonna start looking for that sticker.  

(Photos courtesy of Jakarta Globe and Jakarta Post)

Neighborhood Digest

We’ve moved to our forever home and have been exploring the new neighborhood.  Here are some things that I’ve learned.

I think I mentioned how street addresses often don’t make a lick of sense.  Stroll down a typical street and see the house address change randomly from #2 to #26 to #81 to #7.  It makes getting anywhere in a cab or by walking just maddening as you never really know how close you are to your final destination.  

We think we discovered why.  It seems that house numbers aren’t set up according to any sort of grid or plat.  Duh.  It seems house numbers are assigned based on the order they were constructed on a street.  So, #1 was the first house on the street, #2 the second house built and so on, no matter if #2 is actually seven lots away.

It sort of makes sense in a short-sighted, ordinal sort of way, but no sense from a city planning view.

There is a kicker, too.  If you tear down a house and rebuild a new house or even significantly remodel a house, you get a new address.  So, say our forever home used to be #3, but it was gutted and rebuilt on the exact floor plan.  Our new house number may be #34.

 Here is something you don’t see back home.  This is a Secret Asian Man image of a man at a mall scrubbing the curb of the entrance by hand.  Not hosing it off. Not sweeping, but scrubbing with a scrub brush.  The difference between how private and public spaces are treated is remarkable.  

Walking the dog early the other morning, it must have been trash burning day.  We walked past 6 or 7 small unattended fires burning in the gutters.  Leaves, branches, plastic bags, cups, all the detritus of a city wafting into the morning air.  The ashes blowing down the street, adding to the grime.  Probably soiling the curbs of the mall, who knows?

This is likely the saddest thing that I’ve faced in a long time.  This is Bonita.  She is a macaque monkey who lives on a platform in the park nearby. She belongs to the family on the far side of the park.  She is fed a good amount of food and they seem to look after her, but it is still a pretty sorry existence.  

A few dinner time conversations have been held about how to spring the monkey.  None of the scenarios end well for us, or the monkey, so we walk by this suffering daily.  I’d like to befriend the neighbors to get the full story and I’ve asked our house staff to find out all they can.  I guess we’ve got some time

I’m told of an even sadder activity.  A few years ago, it was all the rage to take these monkeys and chain them little toy cars, dressed up in clothes.  The owners would then cut the eyes and the backs out of a baby doll head and fit them over the monkey head and then train the monkey to roam around a park begging for money.  This, to me, is just the epitome of creepy.  I’m not sure if people pay for the novelty or to make the scary, monkey-baby go away.  I’m told they cracked down and banned this, so it is not as common anymore.  I don’t have my own image, but here is what I’m talking about.

Maybe, that was how Bonita started out? Maybe, that was how our neighbors got their big house.  On the backs of Bonita and her friends.  

We drove by her the other day.  Mrs. S.A.M. said, “That monkey looks so sad.”

Our driver said, “Yes. I think it because she not have a friend.”

Yeah, that could be it. It could also be that she’s chained by the neck to a pole in the middle of a city of millions.

The Huggers

Sky lanterns are paper balloons with a wax fuel pellet suspended from the bottom.  You light them and let the paper balloon fill with hot air and then release it to fly away somewhere until the pellet burns out.

I bought some sky lanterns for my daughter Z.  It was near Christmas and it was Cyber Monday at that.  I hadn't really formed a list, but all the media were telling me that I had to buy something on Cyber Monday to get the best deals. So, I went shoppin’. (www.justartifacts.net/sky_lanterns)

Sky Lanterns came across my screen and I thought my daughter would like them.  She likes fire and outer space.  I figured it was a perfect gift.  I bought 6, thinking maybe they would make a good stocking stuffer.  At cyber-checkout, they told me I would get free shipping if I bought $50 dollars or more.  So, I bought 36 Sky Lanterns.  It was a pretty big box. Maybe Z would need a bigger stocking.

Though at first perplexed, she later thanked me for the gift and displayed her gratitude by stowing them in the basement.

Skipping ahead to summer, I was home from DC for the holiday. We gave the Fourth of July Fireworks a miss, so I asked Z that evening if she’d like to launch a few of the lanterns.

“I thought we’d go over to the high school down the street and launch one from the football field”

“Isn’t it locked?” she asked dubiously..

“Nah, I saw a deer on the 40 yard line the other day.  There has to be a way in.  Like Grandpa used to say, ‘Confucius say, if a dog is on the roof, there must be a way up!’”

I asked Mrs. Secret-Asian-Man if she wanted to go along, but she thought she’d better stay behind in case we needed bailed out of jail.

Off we walked down the street. Z was keen, but muttering under her breath about getting caught.

“Do you want to go back?  We could find another field. I just thought this one was closer.”

“No, no!  Let’s stick to the plan.”

We walked along the fence looking for a gap or another way in, because really, I did see a deer in the middle of the field. The deer must have been a jumper because we couldn't find any obvious holes.

“I guess we’ll have to climb the fence”, I said.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Z, we can go back if you want.”

“No, this is an easy climb.”  And, over the chain link fence she went.   “Aren’t we trespassing?” she asked, as she hit the ground.

“Actually, right now, YOU'RE trespassing.”

“Dad! Get over here!”

And, a’trespassing I went.

We walked out to the 20 yard line, unfolded the lantern and set it on the ground.  I lit the corners of the fuel pellet and through the papery lantern it cast a bright glow across the field, but it didn't appear it be in any hurry to float away.

We heard the clink of beer bottles in the distance, then a yell.  “Fire! WTF!”

Z hissed “Dad! There is someone over in the bleachers!”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got a large burning object in my hands, so, it’s too late now!”  I steadied the lantern hoping it would heat up enough to lift off quickly.  While waiting I mentally checked my pocket for my phone to call Mrs. S.A.M for bail or help.

Then footsteps and voices approached.  “Sky lanterns! I love sky lanterns!”  Two wispy figures in long dresses traipsed into the glow.  “These are the best! We light them off at music festivals all the time!  Have you done this before?”

“No. Does it show?”

“You have to hold them up and be careful not to catch them on fire.  We want to help you with your first sky lantern experience!”

Yes, it did go on quite like that.  Wispy druids smelling of Corona and maybe Patchouli, removed of most filters, going on about all the musical festivals and the lanterns they’d lit and the tree that caught fire that one time (Yikes!)  We set off two more lanterns, the four of us in a small circle guiding each one on its way. 

Both women were named Calista (What’re the odds that both their mothers were Ally McBeal fans?). One went by Cali and the other, Cal.  They both were in dog training school. (Okay, this is weird. Two people named Calista in Dog Training school?)  A third druid, Olyvia, appeared.  She’d been waiting in the shadows.

Cali turned to my daughter and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Z”

“Hi, Z, I’m Cali and I’m a hugger” at which point she leaned in for a hug.

To me, “What’s your name?”

“Secret Asian Man”

“Hi, I’m Cali and I’m a hugger.”  Yes, so I’d heard.  We hugged. “Okay, so we’re headed out.”

I asked to be shown the way in and out as I’m sure these women in their long dresses did not climb the fence.  They pointed toward a gate on the far end of the field and said there was gap to slip through. We all headed that way chit-chatting.  

Z said, relieved, “I thought you guys were the police”

Cali said, “Technically, what we’re doing isn’t illegal.”

Z replied, neutrally, “Trespassing is sort of illegal.” Which received a shrug.

We all slipped through the gap, the wispy ones a little more easily than us, and said our goodbyes.  “Thanks for sharing your sky lanterns with us!

“Thanks for keeping us from setting the field on fire.”

And with that, Z and I walked home. “Why do huggers feel their needs outweigh others?  I’m not a hugger, shouldn’t I have a say in the introduction?”, she asked.

“That’s true.  Substitute ‘licker’ for ‘hugger’ and you might be dealing with a felony.”

The following day driving by the high school, Z said, “That was a lot of fun. I’ll never pass that place without thinking about the huggers.”