Secret Asian Man- God Is My Insurance Carrier

At dusk the other day, I was driving down the Jordanian motorway.  Three of the four cars in front of me had no working tail or brake lights. I had no warning when they were slowing.  They’d just loom closer.  

The same motorway a few weeks ago, I rapidly came up on a goat-laden pickup backing up toward me. No reverse lights functioning of course. Maybe the goats chewed through the wires.

I’ve seen a several toddlers standing on their parents’ shoulders with their heads poking out of the sun roof at speed.  Arms and hair flapping in the wind

We were in a fender bender in a roundabout. There were lots of cars moving real slow and suddenly, THUMP!  We were hit! The driver was a complete gentleman. He apologized and said he got distracted by his toddler who jumped from the back seat to the front seat.  

“I needed to catch him and I got distracted. My foot lifted off the brake.”

I greatly wanted to ask him if he knew of a way to prevent this.  If he knew that his Cadillac Escalade had straps, likely wedged deep between the seat cushions, which could be used either alone or with a special chair, as a restraint against jumping toddlers in moving cars. I feared my point would be lost. My car sustained no damage. His would require some pretty extensive repair.

Predestination is a tenet belief in these parts. It is the idea that on the day that you are born, the day of your death is already known. It is kept in a book in God’s vest pocket along with a pocket watch. Nothing you do during life can change this day. When it's your time, it's your time. This, I believe, is how many people live their lives.

Given this knowledge why would I replace my taillight bulb? Why would I pull my toddler in from the sunroof? My concern for safety has no bearing on my death or that of others. I am freed of personal responsibility. 

I thought of this freedom when, not far from where my fender bender occurred, I saw a man in a wheelchair, rolling down the middle of 3 or 4 lanes of traffic. His arms a-whir as he tried to match the speed of the cars. He was a double amputee.  

Did he wake that morning, like he did most mornings, and think.  “God, done took my legs, I just don’t think today’s my day to die!”? 

And then he wheeled off down the road.

Momma Jockeys

I've talked of traffic lots.  Jakarta traffic jams are the worst in the world, based on the number of times drivers apply the brakes over a given distance.

The whole of traffic allows for a good look at economics. I'm sure there must be some theory that can be applied. But, here's how I see it.  

Jakarta has a burgeoning middle class. It's growing by leaps and bounds. There are millions of newly moneyed and they all want. Want. Want. Cars are a big status symbol.  It's what they see on tv and in the movies, so they aspire to having a car, or three or four.  Cars are also a way to get around in a place with chaotically poor mass transit.

If you can't  have a car, you still need to get around, so many families opt for a motor bike. 2900 new motorbikes hit the roads here each day. The government, in an effort to keep the economy turning makes low interest rate loans available to consumers so they can buy cars and motor bikes.  It also subsidizes fuel for all.  

In addition to the lack of mass transport, there is an abysmal lack of good roads.  There are only a few main thoroughfares and access on or off them is a choke point issue.

So despite subsidizing an auto culture, the government admits there are too many cars on the roads. 10 years or so, it put in place laws to promote carpooling. It required 3 passengers in a car during 7 of the busiest hours of the day. The fines were pretty substantial for the everyday Indonesian,  perhaps 50 dollars or so.  

It's left to the police to enforce the laws. Law enforcement though is not a well paying job if you rely on your salary alone. So it seems the police used carpool violations as a means to make money. Pulling over cars and checking for passengers.  You can either pay the full fine downtown, or pay the lower “fine” right there on the spot and go about your business. What happens? People pay the lower fine and drive wherever they want.

Enter the 3-in-1 jockeys. These entrepreneurial Indonesians, sensing a money making opportunity stepped in and organically grew a system whereby people rent themselves out as passengers so drivers can skirt the rules and get where they want.  Jockeys sometimes earn 15 bucks a day just sitting in other people's cars for a while.  They've got regular clientele and everything.

Once every so often the police sense some encroachment on their fines and so move into clear the streets of the jockeys who scatter into the slums.  Some who are caught are put in detention for a few days, but they're back at it soon after promising not to do it again.  

The rule is 3 people per car, so if you're driving alone you have to pick up two strangers.  Jakarta mothers found a further advantage.  If they rode along with their toddlers, the drivers got 2 people in the car for around the price of one.  

So, every morning and afternoon, you see moms with toddlers strapped to their waists hustling for a ride. The kids, though, are always sleeping, slumped over on moms shoulders. All very docile.  No one, it seems, wants a noisy kid sitting in traffic, so moms are alleged to drug the kids, so they stay quiet during rush hour.  

Now some mothers struggle.  It's hard to run a household while sitting in traffic earning a living. So, they've got a drugged kid and a house to keep, why not just rent out the kid and let someone else sit.  

This is apparently where the line is drawn.  It was found out that this was going on and then confirmed that these kids were being sedated and possibly put in danger. The whole thing racket has fallen apart.

The government, now seeing that it's future citizens are at risk, decided to do something. Not by removing children from moms who rent them out, not by restricting the sales of narcotics, but by ceasing the carpool laws.

Police are up in arms because they worry the roads can't handle the traffic.  Everyone thinks what they're really worried about is the loss of their revenue stream. There is worry that they may tie up traffic just to prove a point

The jockeys lament the reduction of income. Many of them have nothing else to do that can earn 15 dollars in a day.

We all lament the potential increase in traffic.

The children, though, should come out ahead. They may wake up and be able to experience the world. Perhaps they'll learn to read or think or play or scheme up some new ways to make the money.

The First 24 hours

Holy, Crap!

On the ground now in Jakarta just over 24 hours.  My, oh, my. Overwhelmed doesn't begin to describe it.

Arrived from Hong Kong last evening and collected at airport by our wonderful sponsor and her daughter. They got us to temporary housing.Very nice housing.  Lovely marble flooring. And hardwood. Lots of storage and a very loud doorbell. Shared pool on the grounds with lots of flowers, plants and birds. There are a couple of decks and it is well furnished with furnishings that do not match the style of the home, but I'm told match every other embassy employee in the world. Comfortable and functional and...colonial.

We're given a brief run down in the place. Where things are briefly, and left on our own.

We explore our abode,  three bedrooms and an office with storage in the basement. We unpack. I find a 2.5 inch bug on my dresser and scoop him up with a definite squish and chuck him in toilet.

Seeing toilet reminds me tha I've not gone to bathroom since Hong Kong, or was it Tokyo? So, I do by business and turn to flush and to my brief horror see said bug crawling slowly and valiantly out from under the toilet paper.. He must see me, because when I stoop to flush he bursts into speed, trying to scramble up the slippery bowl. Not fast enough, though. I got him.

I see knob for the bidet on side of bowl. Being curious and never having used one,  I turn knob. A slender white plastic tube shoots out from under bowl and drenches the front of my shirt. Touché my buggy friend. Touché.

Wake next morning. I've been told that rather than having he day to settle in, I'm to go the British embassy for a meeting about child protection related to a rather high profile legal case that is going on in country now. So, I unroll a shirt and jacket and get dressed. A car arrives and off I'm whisked.

Traffic while congested, does seem to move smoothly. I’m struck by the thousands and thousand of scooters that whisk and zoom in and out of every conceivable space. If you've seen those movies filming blood cells in the bloodstream, this is how traffic moves. General movement in the right direction. There are lanes painted on the street, but these seem to be largely ignored. Traffic lights also seem to be a suggestion. Roundabouts are free-for-alls. Despite this I get to my destination early, after a 20 minute ride.

Despite the chaos, I think that I can live with the traffic. It seems manageable.

The afternoon rush though, may change my mind. The scooters in the afternoon seem to have multiplied if that is possible. Cars too. The same trip home takes thrice as long.

In addition to the vehicles there is frequently a pedestrian interloper walking down the center of the street.  One man sells snacks. The trip takes so long you may as well get some nourishment.

One man is selling a hello kitty bubble machine spinning on a string shooting out a continuous stream of bubbles into everyone's car. I can't imagine anything worse than being in traffic with a tired four year old who is now screaming for he bubble gun he just saw. A brilliant marketing ploy.

Yet another person is dressed in a “Despicable Me” minion costume which is inflated over his body. It is dusky and grey from soot. He shimmies to the tinny beat from the radio at his feet. U.S. panhandlers have nothing on these guys.

We arrive home and opt to go shopping. We're in need of supplies. Despite just recently getting home we head back out to the store via taxi. We're tired and hungry. So it's easy to load up on crap. We make a conscious effort to think healthy. We spend 3 million rupees.

The exchange rate is 11000 to 1. There is no bill larger than 100000 or about ten dollars. If you pay in cash the wad in my pocket will make you think I'm very glad to see you. We pay by credit.

We catch a cab home. We are told to use only taxis for one cab company and so we do. Our driver, though has no idea where we live. I, despite my three weeks of indonesian, and no idea where I live, cannot tell him. I do say we are staying near the Dharmawangsa hotel. I’m told it is one of the most expensive in the city and exclusive in the city.  He still has no idea. He stops to ask for directions not 2, not three, but 5 times. One time he stops dead center of the street and gets out to ask the guy in front of us. Another time he asks a motorcyclist hidden in the foliage.  I kid you not.

We do make it home and unload our groceries. I'm spent by the hour long odyssey home. The total fare is 55250 rupiah. I give him 60000. He tells me he doesn't have change and I'm initially pissed, then catch myself as I'm about to argue over 50 cents.  Taxis are cheap and I’m about to be cheaper.

I'm tempted to make a meal of the half dozen Kinder surprise eggs, but think better of it. Daughter Z is in full internet withdrawal and lazes listlessly on the couch jonesing for a snapchat from someone back home.  She's been a trooper so far.  I just want to fill the hole in her heart.

Phone doesn't work. We're told it will be fixed tomorrow. No cell service yet, so now way to reach in or out. We do feel very isolated.

I collapse into bed at 10 only to wake fully at 1am.  And thus I write this now.

On the plus side, we have found the American club and can see why this place is such an oasis. There is a. Commissary there and they sell lots of American goods, and also bacon which is hard to come by in the Muslim nation.

The other people we've met are very nice and have all seemed to have made the adjustment. Those who’ve been here 2 weeks say they love it here. Some have even extended their stay. This gives me hope.

Please don't show this to my wife. I'm fearful she'll cancel her flight and I need her here.  We both do.