tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-351196712024-02-07T21:08:39.017+07:00Metro Mad JakartaSETTING THE BIG DURIAN TO RIGHTSSimon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comBlogger286125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-63170091584340255752016-01-19T11:24:00.001+07:002016-01-19T11:31:27.806+07:00Damp Spirits<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans'; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: 600; line-height: 11.305px; margin-bottom: 13px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Praise the Lord, for the rains have finally arrived.</span></i><br />
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And so we find ourselves moving and gathering momentum towards the festive period. Indeed, no less an authority than the Pope himself has just chimed in on the subject of this year’s yuletide, the official papal verdict being that it’s going to be a, “charade,” given recent world events. Certainly sounds like a few Christmases I’ve spent before. Well thanks for that, Francis my old mate. Why don’t you just stick to your job, eh? Just wish everybody a Happy Christmas, instead of bequeathing us an atmosphere as noxious as that left by a fat uncle who has polished off too many Brussels sprouts at Christmas lunch.<br />
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Thankfully though, here in Indonesia things are looking up somewhat as the daily likelihood of precipitation is finally above diddly-squat. Yes, the rains have arrived, and not a moment too soon, as the El Niño effect, coupled with unbridled avarice and stupidity, have conspired to ensure that a cloud of choking smoke the size of the former Soviet Union has been released over Southeast Asia.<br />
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Apparently however, according to the current (and alas also a previous) vice president, only half the country being on fire doesn’t actually constitute a national disaster. The half that was on fire not being the half that he lives in may also have been a factor here. Although you would be a fool and a communist to point out that if imperial Java had been blanketed in smoke, then we may have seen rather less foot dragging on the issue.<br />
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Thankfully, the apocalyptic flames are now finally being quenched and the country can reflect on a truly appalling year, even by its own dismally low standards. Indeed, Indonesia’s fires have pushed atmospheric carbon to levels not seen on this planet for over 2 million years (400 ppm to be precise) and ended up releasing some 1 billion tonnes of the stuff over poor old Borneo and Sumatra. Some even claim that this may have actually pushed the entire planet over a runaway global-warming tipping point. In this context, I’m not sure that even January’s inevitable torrents will be able to wash away a sin so apocalyptically awful.<br />
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And so Indonesia’s farmers try to pick up the pieces and tend to their cracked, blistered plots as the rain ramps up through the gears and the drought subsides. Here in the terminal urban terminus of the Indonesian capital, it’s been a bit of a novelty to use one’s umbrella again after nine long, hot months.<br />
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City dwellers generally have a somewhat ambivalent relationship with rain, and I’m sure that by the middle of January, the deluges will really start to grate once more. We’ll soon be arriving at work looking like drowned baboons, while the country’s notoriously porous ceilings spring leaks and turn to sodden cardboard, and clothes start smelling like an ojekdriver’s socks because it’s taken three days for them to dry.<br />
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And that’s without mentioning far more serious issues such as landslides and biblical flooding. God knows how the city’s putative, currently-under-construction subway stations will cope with all of this. It’ll be like SeaWorld down there.<br />
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One image from a previous year’s flooding is forever seared into my brain and involved the rather ludicrous tableau of a housemate and myself in our underpants at 3am frantically bailing rainwater out of our living room with empty Pizza Hut spaghetti trays. Indeed, previous wet seasons have seen my landlubber shipmates and our dodgy leaking ceilings recreating those scenes from World War II movies in which the German U-boat dives too deeply in order to escape the Allied depth charges and the rivets start popping out followed by jets of seawater and general Nazi sturm und drang.<br />
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In Jakarta, the rains can turn houses into sewage processing plants, half-hour journeys into Homerian odysseys and trips to the local market into mud-spattered trench warfare. Seasonal affective disorder may well be upon us folks, and that’s sad.<br />
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Hopefully though, having just gone through an El Niño/man-made environmental catastrophe, Indonesia will be spared serious flooding this year. Jakarta’s preparedness for such an eventuality, while still sketchy, has hopefully been booted a few rungs up the mission-critical ladder from previous efforts. A few years back, I recall the city administration proudly boasting of having purchased a whopping 10 rubber dinghies.<br />
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Thankfully, 26,000 infiltration wells are currently being dug across the capital for run-off water to drain into. Indeed it’s a false economy not to invest in these kinds of measures, as during the previous rainy season, Rp.3 trillion in losses were inflicted in a single week in Jakarta. Such losses, however, be they the result of forest fires or flooding, are to be born by the public, while investment designed to mitigate such disasters would have to come out of government budgets earmarked for palm grease and pied-à-terres.<br />
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Tsunamis, landslides, fires, haze, droughts, floods: has mother nature, so generous in blessing this country with so much bountiful fertility, now turned her back on her Indonesian progeny as a punishment for its rapaciously corrupt excesses and poor stewardship of its Edenic inheritance? Will we be able to pull together as a species and tackle these issues head-on? Or will the new Star Wars flick win out in the ongoing battle for hearts and minds?<br />
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As the writer Chris Isherwood once said, the rich world has “retired to live inside [its] own advertisements. Like hermits going into caves to contemplate.” And there’s a sense in which environmental concerns are now the preserve of Facebook feeds that we lap up before signing an online petition with brows suitably furrowed and chowing down on another bowl of palm oil-laced noodles. Clicktavism they call it.<br />
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So, will we be able to save Jakarta from being regularly waterboarded by the Almighty? Storming the ramparts of parliament in KPK-logoed combat fatigues and kicking the whole rotten bunch out on their exquisitely tailored arses would be a good start perhaps.<br />
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Maybe the future will look something like the one predicted by the late, legendary Kurt Vonnegut in the pages of his Darwinian prophecy of a novel Galapagos. In the book, the process of evolution by natural selection rounds decisively upon our capacious human brains. Brains which have brought so much suffering and environmental calamity to the world are depicted as having little intrinsic survival value, and are thus portrayed as an evolutionary dead-end in the book. In Vonnegut’s vision, homo-sapien grey matter thus starts to shrink and bodies begin to grow seal-like flippers as we return to the blissful ignorance of life’s oceanic cradle.<br />
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A little far-fetched? Perhaps, although just maybe the seemingly diminishing cerebral capacities of many power wielders are an early embodiment of the truth of Vonnegut’s thesis. Maybe their descendants will already be equipped with flippers during the Jakarta floods of the future. And there we were thinking that regional devolution referred to politics. Now pass me a bucket of fish please.
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“Doctor, Doctor, I’m at death’s door!”<br />
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“Don’t worry, we’ll pull you through.”<br />
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This is not an exchange that I overheard in a Jakarta waiting-room, although Indonesia’s doctors, fine specimen of men and women that they most assuredly are, certainly come in for a fair amount of flak from the expatriate community. The general perception of the country’s professional bone-sawers held by those who hail from wealthier nations seems to bounce like a heart-rate monitor readout between patronizing ridicule and sheer terror at the prospect of ever falling into their clutches.<br />
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If they ply their trade at a more down-market hospital or medical centre, then local doctors are usually viewed as buffoons who offer diagnoses along the lines of “doctor, doctor” joke punchlines before pumping you full of the wrong drugs and amputating the wrong leg for good measure. However, if they work at a more salubrious house of medicine, then they will obviously try and hook you up to as many expensive machines that go ‘ping’ as possible, as the dollar signs revolve in their eyes like one-armed bandits (although American expatriates may be used to this kind of treatment as a result of their noble nation’s general disdain for socialized medicine).<br />
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One can head to the official statistics in search of a more sober analysis of the country’s medical system, however this may not help to dispel the negative aura that hangs over Indonesian hospitals like the smell of a full specimen jar.<br />
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Of Indonesia’s 1,800 hospitals, apparently only five are internationally accredited, and all of these are privately owned, although supposedly the health ministry is currently preparing another seven state-owned hospitals to qualify for international accreditation.<br />
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Ultimately, this may not make much of a dent, however, in the 100,000 or so locals who head abroad every year (mainly to Singapore, Malaysia and China) in search of decent medical treatment. And they are the lucky ones, of course. The vast majority of Indonesians, not in possession of a great deal more, asset-wise, than a bedpan, can either incur crippling debts when they require medical attention or instead opt for a judicious application of Tiger Balm whilst offering a few prayers to Him upstairs.<br />
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There have, however, been more recent signs of change. Both President Jokowi and his comrade-in-arms, Jakarta Governor Ahok, in a break with five decades of elite politics, actually seem to acknowledge that not all Indonesians drive BMWs and have pushed through medical insurance schemes, amidst much huffing and puffing from the trustees of the nation’s better-equipped hospitals.<br />
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Clearly though, this may well be like trying to fix a fractured skull with a Handiplast. Doctors here often work in a number of hospitals or health centres, and even hospitals that occupy fancy high-rise buildings may not be able to provide adequate or sufficiently professional consultation, as their doctors work long into the night with large numbers of patients. It seems that often here, high-end technology is not complemented by a similarly high-end level of professionalism among the nation’s 50,000 doctors and 2.5 million nurses.<br />
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The problem, as with so many things, lies with education, which in this country is about as bad as it gets. This is not a knowledge-based culture; it is a highly corrupt, consumption-based culture. Intellectually speaking, a complete disaster then includes the sale of places in med school (the lower your grades, the more you have to pay to get in; up to hundreds of millions of rupiah). Plus, of course, more payments will ensure that even the most chuckle-headed of potential quacks are able to pass their regular exams, whilst connections and the old-boy network also help, which is why medical care can seem so ‘dynastic’ here.<br />
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And all of this comes on top of Indonesia’s politically-motivated system of educational indoctrination, which is based around rote learning, and which seems to actively discourage the kind of critical thinking that is so valuable for the decent practice of medicine. Apparently, even nurses and midwives often have to buy their way into jobs. This can be as much as US$5,000 for a job that pays about US$300 per month. No wonder the nurses and doctors work for the government in the mornings and engage in private practice in the late afternoons and evenings.<br />
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Having said all this, my own experiences in Indonesian hospitals haven’t been too bad. Most seriously, I once rode my motorcycle into a bajaj that was seemingly being driven by some prototype Google software at the time. In any case, after being tossed in the air like a rag doll and landing in a big bone heap on the ground, I found myself being transported to Pertamina Hospital in South Jakarta having sustained several fractures.<br />
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After having various titanium plates and screws inserted into me, I was packed off home to recuperate and was also regularly visited by a nurse (alas, a male one) for the following two weeks. Both my inpatient and outpatient care were pretty decent, although all of this came at a price that was thankfully covered by my health insurance policy. Coincidentally, ex-President Suharto entered the very same hospital about a year later and, unlike myself, did not emerge alive. Perhaps the former strong man had been neglecting his health insurance payments (although I was always under the impression that the inscrutable old fascist was a collector, as opposed to a payer of premiums).<br />
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There was, alas, one dark cloud which cast a shadow over my otherwise delightful weeklong stay in hospital, and this was the nurses – angels of mercy that they were – who insisted upon waking me up at the very Indonesian hour of 5am every morning to administer nothing more than a vitamin pill and the most appalling breakfasts that I’d had since that time I went camping. After four days of this, I have to confess that I did offload some technical medical jargon in their direction.<br />
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“But we only trying to help you, Mr!”<br />
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“Aha, that’s very good, now here’s what I want you not to do…”<br />
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The great Benjamin Franklin supposedly claimed that “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” Well, he’d clearly never sailed around the Dutch East Indies, in my view.<br />
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Meanwhile, Indonesia’s poor may now be crowding hospital receptions the length and breadth of the nation clutching Jokowi Smart Cards, however many will still be unable to afford the fancy prescriptions dished out by doctors with a tendency towards polypharmacy (i.e. prescribing five or more drugs, many of which are non-essential but expensive if you’re on two dollars a day).<br />
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The quick fix offered by traditional jamu and over-the-counter energy pills and drinks is thus likely to remain a medical staple for the republic’s proletariat, who suffer the consequences of the fine line between commercial exploitation and medical science being gleefully trampled over. A quick fix of caffeine, taurine, sugar and paracetamol it is then, which should temporarily mask the negative effects of poverty, poor diet, lack of sleep, pollution, disease and parasites. Soviet Russia, now there was an efficient health system. As soon as you were ill, they’d kill you. No messing about with cures there…</div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-87092236125073988972014-03-10T11:16:00.000+07:002014-03-10T11:16:15.340+07:00What a Tangled Web We Weave<div class="MsoNormal">
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indonesia's Internet is increasingly
becoming a free-speech battleground <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Issues
surrounding that old chestnut, freedom of speech, have started to make waves
across the globe over the last few years. The reason that this time-honoured
benchmark of democratic freedom is once again becoming a front-line political
battleground is the all-conquering reach of the Internet and our new social
media.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">In recent years, autocratic Arab governments have been toppled and rioters
have taken to the streets to terrorise England and in both cases, Twitter,
Facebook and BlackBerry Messenger had major roles to play. So when exactly does
Internet use become a public menace? What can be considered defamatory and
libellous in our wired world? Is it government's role to be putting checks and
balances on the new connectivity? Are politicians simply superannuated,
nation-state dinosaurs running scared of the new light-speed social currents
that zap like digital pinballs around nodes of common interest? Are we headed for Julian Assange's nightmarish vision of an Orwellian future?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indonesia
has had its own dilemmas to grapple with vis-à-vis the new social media
paradigm of course. On the one hand, Indonesians are possessed of a natural sociability
that has seen them take to these technologies like ducks to water. Indonesia
has 43.1 million Facebook users (making it the world's third-largest population
of Mark Zuckerberg disciples) and BlackBerry Messenger reigns supreme here,
despite these devices currently facing collapsing sales around the rest of the
world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">On
the other hand though, Indonesia’s still relatively autocratic, paternalistic
and, above all, corrupt political and judicial systems have been left
floundering by the new so-called "hacktivism" and there have been
plenty of techno flashpoints of late that have made those in power seem rather
lugubrious and heavy-handed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Virtual
alarm bells first started ringing a few years back when Indonesian
mother-of-three, Prita Mulyasari, was handed down a suspended jail sentence for
libelling Tangerang's Omni Hospital in an e-mail that she sent to a group of
her friends expressing her dissatisfaction with the hospital's service.
Everyone from freedom-loving Facebook fans to highflying lawyers sprang to
Prita's defence, arguing that criticism of public or private services most
certainly doesn’t constitute liable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
country's draconian ITE (Electronic Transactions Law) would suggest otherwise
however. Controversial Communication and Information Technology Minister,
Tifatul Sembiring, has stated that there are five boundaries in the cyber world
that the ITE outlines should not be crossed, and these pertain to issues of
pornography, gambling, threats, fraud and blasphemy. However these five deadly
virtual sins also include information and posts that may, "disturb the
public," or which, "attack or offend public figures."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Mr.
Sembiring, a member of the Islamic-leaning Prosperous Justice Party (PKS) has
proved a polarising figure during his time looking after the country's
information superhighway and has often been ridiculed for his censorious
approach to the newly connected Archipelago. After a failed and ultimately rather
futile attempt to keep Internet pornography from polluting Indonesian waters,
Mr. Sembiring has more recently, and rather ominously, turned his attention to
the country's avid Tweeters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">After
learning that Twitter is filled with anonymous accounts that are often used to
insult and attack other users, Sembiring stated that such rogue Tweeters could
find their accounts being shut down and has even threatened that they could
also have their devices and positions traced with a view to prosecuting them. Mr.
Sembiring has also been pressuring RIM, makers of the ubiquitous BlackBerry, to
set up servers in Indonesia, as those millions and millions of BlackBerry
messages currently travel to their recipients via RIM's Canadian servers, well
beyond the grasp of elite Indonesian political control, scrutiny and
censorship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This
latter initiative is perhaps revealing of the fear that really underlies
Indonesia's still pretty autocratic political elite’s stated concerns about
libellous posts that, "disturb the public." The Arab Spring has seen
the rise of so-called "citizen journalism" and mobile-phone cameras are
now regularly used to document abuses of power. The use of social media to
organise popular dissent through channels that completely circumvent
traditional government information filters and controls has also proved crucial.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
Arab Spring has undoubtedly been spectacular, however there are also dangers
involved in the greater free speech and popular organisation that the web
promises. Alas, our new networked, free-thinking paradigm has the potential to
crash into the immovable object of Indonesia’s traditional, long-held beliefs
with a loud clatter. The recent case of Alexander Aan is a case in point. Mr.
Aan posted the phrase, "God does not exist" up on his Facebook wall
and subsequently survived a mob attack before being taken into custody by the
West Sumatra police and charged with blasphemy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
still-pretty-inchoate Internet so often acts as a mass vanity-induction device,
a huge ego-feeding mechanism that encourages self-congratulatory, mutual
backslapping between those who share opinions and tastes. The inverse is also
true, and the net is also filled with abrasive but equally self-congratulatory broadsides
and abuse that are directed against those that would dissent from one's
cherished pearls of wisdom. This is the downside of the Internet. However it is
becoming increasingly clear that the web can also be a space for public
exchange, free debate, expression, organisation, enquiry and activism, a space
that still evades society’s normal systems of information control.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">All
opinions find a voice on the Internet, which perhaps ill suits traditional
notions of Indonesian hegemony, harmony and consensual decision-making. As the
web continues to spread its tentacles throughout the country though,
Indonesians are getting to hear voices and opinions that they've never previously
been exposed to before. Give a man a mask and he'll tell you what he really
thinks, or so the old saying goes. Give him an anonymous and untraceable
computer terminal though and you won't be able to shut the fellow up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
new digital debating club challenges imposed wisdom and the specious harmony that
masks a sea of social ills, and the Indonesian boat is currently being rocked
by these new technological currents. It could get rough out there but nothing
less than a transformation of Indonesia's collective consciousness is up for
grabs as we steer towards oceans new.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-46511101737334184002014-03-10T11:04:00.001+07:002014-03-10T11:04:21.383+07:00Public Image Limited<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The capital has a woeful amount of public space to offer its citizens, who are instead usually to be found taking sanctuary down in its shopping</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Let's
not mince words here, Jakarta is in dire need of public space and parks for its
citizens to unwind in. Now admittedly a certain amount of progress on this
issue has been made over the last few years and parks such as Taman Tebet, Taman
Menteng and Taman Aydoya, for example, have been spruced up in an attempt to
offer the city's residents some non-retail-based respite. However these parks
are but a drop in the ocean given the city's eight-digit population and given a
2007 spatial-planning law which states that Jakarta should dedicate at least 30
per cent of its total area to green space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">This
ambitious target is seemingly impossible to achieve without the demolition of a
huge number of the shops, plazas, offices and private residences that cram this
densely packed rabbit warren of a city, and so increasingly, the only option
available is for people to traipse around privately owned shopping plazas and gawp
at the goods on offer, while developing their own pathological addictions to
conspicuous consumption.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtE68wqGpamCqgpaWC7oI19UrShe4NONPy8ATJKw0gV8HX1gQpPfaEQPwkoyP1ltRqI0gSyHrgd3qmJUPg2a_ubtAlDam7ZgSmQA0VKwkLF8oOZxhfvMUqkVaZXL8hWB65QPJxQ/s1600/12_14_12_598_9.19.12_ITDP_jakarta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtE68wqGpamCqgpaWC7oI19UrShe4NONPy8ATJKw0gV8HX1gQpPfaEQPwkoyP1ltRqI0gSyHrgd3qmJUPg2a_ubtAlDam7ZgSmQA0VKwkLF8oOZxhfvMUqkVaZXL8hWB65QPJxQ/s1600/12_14_12_598_9.19.12_ITDP_jakarta.jpg" height="196" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">A
prime example of this phenomenon came last month when an enormous crush of
people pushed, jostled, gnashed teeth, wailed and fainted outside the Pacific Place
shopping mall in a bid to get their hands on the latest model of BlackBerry
smartphone, which was being offered at half price. The expressions on these
people’s faces as they shoved and shouted were no different from those worn by
emaciated refugees as they fight over food aid. There are always new needs that
need to be sated, and identity is now more defined by what you own than it is
by what you are, think or do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">A
moratorium on the issuing of permits for the construction of shopping plazas is
now in effect. The city is already hyper-saturated
with retail palaces though, many of which have been constructed to the
detriment of public parks and spaces. As well as offering fresh air to the
lungs, parks also have an important cultural role to play in offering a public
sphere in which people can mingle and socialize, external to the hyperactive demands
of consumer commerce.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">It's
a tough ask though. If 30 per cent of the city's total area was turned into
parks and public spaces, the results would clock in at around 650 square
kilometres. Compare that with the park that surrounds Jakarta's National Monument
(Monas), which covers a mere 0.8 square kilometres. Hmmm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjyl7TQwAPCz5Dgld3MIx88YaEuxRht00t7St-KXE9IaqgNRC-jCn7kpruqMquyn36KPvGE5y9dATnCKuZMWYe2xakMiyh1NUKxNXE_tfQBPqKvY1PhZ9J91BO1vSmUO1OAQV6bQ/s1600/Monumen_nasional_jakarta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjyl7TQwAPCz5Dgld3MIx88YaEuxRht00t7St-KXE9IaqgNRC-jCn7kpruqMquyn36KPvGE5y9dATnCKuZMWYe2xakMiyh1NUKxNXE_tfQBPqKvY1PhZ9J91BO1vSmUO1OAQV6bQ/s1600/Monumen_nasional_jakarta.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">As
well as parks, pedestrian space is also an important element of any modern
metropolis’s public sphere. Alas however, most of the city's pavements are
filled with parked cars and food stalls, and pedestrians and their green use of
bioorganic leg power are all too sadly stacked at the bottom of the pile in
this heaving city. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Citizens
of other cities around the world though think nothing of a 20-minute stroll down
to the shops or to their local subway station. This is largely due to the fact
that it's possible to complete such journeys without tripping over, falling
down a manhole, being forced into the road to play chicken with endless
motorcycles or otherwise being asphyxiated, shouted at, tapped up by primary-school
beggars or scalded by flying fried rice. Recent attempts to clear the sidewalks
of such obstructions have been, to say the least, rather halfhearted, and so
the inveterate walker faces an uncertain future.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">One
doesn't have to leave the country to find more positive pedestrian scenes
however. In Java's lush countryside, school kids think nothing of cycling or
walking for kilometres through verdant palm trees and paddy fields to get to their
schools. In Jakarta's urban jungle however, trying to negotiate oneself through
the city's chaotic Brownian motion on foot is perhaps not unlike walking along
the pavements of a more-organised metropolitan environment having drunk five
bottles of Bintang.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">All
of these problems, the commercialisation of public space, the difficulty of
pedestrian travel and the lack of green areas, all serve to alienate and
isolate the city’s comparatively well off, with their cars and credit cards,
from the city's bustling but impoverished street life and thus the deep wound
of Jakarta’s yawning income chasm is never challenged by the soothing balm of trans-class
interaction and pollination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Yes,
Jakartans love their shopping malls but they represent something of a
consumerist, self-fulfilling prophecy. If people have nowhere else to go in
their leisure time other than such places, then where are they going to end up?
If someone had the vision and bravery to build a sports centre, a theatre, an
art-house cinema, or even a park, basically anything one step removed from the
need to turn an instant return on one's investment, are we to believe that no
one would go to them? Perhaps, a thousand years hence, cyborg archaeologists
and anthropologists will unearth the remains of Jakarta's great plazas, along
with petrified Starbucks beakers and fossilised mobile phone casings and
pontificate on what strange religion their ancestors practised in these places.
I have seen the future, and it is latte coloured. January sales anyone?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-78879267481420600202014-02-07T10:45:00.004+07:002014-02-07T10:45:42.755+07:00Hit & Miss<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The Miss World circus came to <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place>
recently to a predictable storm of controversy<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Last September 28, 137 comely young ladies flew over to </span><st1:place style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;" w:st="on">Bali</st1:place><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">
in order to participate in the legendary Miss World beauty pageant. While on the </span><st1:place style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;" w:st="on">Island</st1:place><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> of the Gods, these fine bodies of women paraded around, showed off their dazzling pearly whites and expressed their hopes for either world peace or whirled peas. Alas (or thankfully, depending on your attitude to these things) these
glamorously gregarious princesses didn't get to don any bikini-esque swimwear
this year, due to a predictably splenetic outcry from the country's hardest of
hardcore Muhammadans, and instead dressed in slightly more conservative
sarongs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J5COOqr6ewYuylaVGAGShCnTpOH2st_Tks4f_Dy53YdgUR8nAibzmBiYuIeT8R8NPjqBdvR5ZSCsnCeneyQKZkrmNMRq9fan_zR0OUkL_gpSM8ewQzPC7nIeEtYufkXeRxitwQ/s1600/Vania-larissa-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J5COOqr6ewYuylaVGAGShCnTpOH2st_Tks4f_Dy53YdgUR8nAibzmBiYuIeT8R8NPjqBdvR5ZSCsnCeneyQKZkrmNMRq9fan_zR0OUkL_gpSM8ewQzPC7nIeEtYufkXeRxitwQ/s1600/Vania-larissa-6.jpg" height="320" width="221" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indeed,
the most recent Miss World competition was originally supposed to have been held at the <st1:placename w:st="on">Sentul</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">International</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Convention Center</st1:placetype>, which is located
just outside of the city of <st1:city w:st="on">Bogor</st1:city> in <st1:place w:st="on">West Java</st1:place>. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bogor</st1:place></st1:city>
has proved to be a veritable hive of fundamentalist activity in recent years though
(with the accent being placed firmly on the mentalist) and Christians and other
Muslim sects have borne the brunt of the radicals' wrath, occasionally at the
cost of their very lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And
so, following threats and various furious proclamations from such organisations
as <st1:city w:st="on">Hizbut-Tahrir</st1:city> <st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region>
and the perhaps-not-particularly-well-named Islam Reformist Movement, as well
as our old friends the Islamic Defenders Front (FPI), the competition was eventually moved over to the predominantly Hindu <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">island</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Bali</st1:placename></st1:place>.
The bikini ban remained however.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMEIgyDV00sJOQyTF0MRVJD9BFM2tRCZmB1vjhMiw8H2Sl_qtSNG-nHpDEq_Lxmw1LZel9M-cVJpLwjO_i00q2phhNwl-OtQLevl1wU-dJGZjFBj2UXz4CAG5mXQORMAQzhajcg/s1600/130926233100-indonesia-miss-world-4-story-top.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMEIgyDV00sJOQyTF0MRVJD9BFM2tRCZmB1vjhMiw8H2Sl_qtSNG-nHpDEq_Lxmw1LZel9M-cVJpLwjO_i00q2phhNwl-OtQLevl1wU-dJGZjFBj2UXz4CAG5mXQORMAQzhajcg/s1600/130926233100-indonesia-miss-world-4-story-top.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This
is perhaps indicative of the power that these organisations now wield over
public life here, as what could be more normal than wearing a bikini in <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place>? Well, going totally topless perhaps, as used to be
the cultural norm among Balinese women before <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s first president,
Sukarno, issued a decree forcing them to cover up their assets in the 1950s,
thereby bringing to an end a 1000 year tradition and initiating a whole new
one, namely shame at their own voluptuous nakedness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This
isn't the first time that sexual prudery has nipped a mass-entertainment event
in the bud in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>
in recent years though. Scantily clad pop superstar Lady Gaga, for example, was forced
to cancel a <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>
concert when Muslim hardliners threatened to torch the venue. Again though, as
with Bali's breasts, it should be pointed out that placing the blame on Western
moral degeneracy is to ignore <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s
own sensual traditions, such as the cleavage revealing <i>kebaya </i>that
Javanese women have traditionally worn. Conversely, the increasing numbers of local
ladies choosing (?) to wear the Islamic <i>hijab</i>,
<i>jilbab</i> or even full <i>burkas</i> are submitting to an imperative
that is as much cultural import as Gaga herself is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxXhojZhgkLBZLzzOZdBMuP4CdPLMU2RWz0Rd3rhyphenhyphenDKxHfn9BWp4l06P3MCSv1XjtfrqaTxzcNCxlx_jyEGYjCs3HuvuscVgA-r0pnwGwLRipKMKi3KojbyHMIf71K5Mk9hQ4jA/s1600/Indonesia-Miss-World-_Inte1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxXhojZhgkLBZLzzOZdBMuP4CdPLMU2RWz0Rd3rhyphenhyphenDKxHfn9BWp4l06P3MCSv1XjtfrqaTxzcNCxlx_jyEGYjCs3HuvuscVgA-r0pnwGwLRipKMKi3KojbyHMIf71K5Mk9hQ4jA/s1600/Indonesia-Miss-World-_Inte1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Perhaps
though it would prove instructive to take a brief look at the Miss World
website at this point. Apparently, the competition has been going since 1951. The
site also reveals that, "In 1980, the major changes in the Miss World
judging process were implemented. For the first time, personality and
intelligence came into the evaluation and, of equal importance was that vital
statistics were no longer deemed vital."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Well,
I think that I would be viewing this claim somewhat sceptically if I were you,
taking the lack of 200lb Ph.Ds. in the contest as prima facie evidence. The
official Miss World website also tells us that the competition has mainly been
organised by the late Eric Morley's Mecca Leisure Group (sometimes life seems
to throw up ironies so delicious that there simply has to be a God). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Times
change though. Gender politics civilise societies and the upshot has been the feminists
who started taking a swipe at Miss World in the early ’70s. Here's a quick
challenge for you, dear readers. There follows two quotes on the subject of
Miss World. Your task is to decide which one was uttered by a feminist and
which by an Islamic preacher. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Number
one: "Beauty pageants’ process of judging women by their physical
attributes is deeply offensive and damaging to women's dignity."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Number
two: "Raise your voice against this appalling offence against women.
Beauty pageants treat women as if they were objects that can be compared and
judged."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Taken
your best shot? Good. Well I can reveal that the first quotation comes from a
spokesman for the MUI (Indonesian Council of Ulema), while the second featured
in a statement made by the feminist group, Object. How did you get on?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbshXRXDsxH2_vm1J5Ojz-vqyVAGjHe2UbbtI_nhgemzMWMtlnyEUKsDT8Oj67UUTnhwnL5UGwTtDYtbsU8c8FRizsa0z9Xj0rqnJzhbR1D73_rRi3b5MK8vzqE43zg0ou8FArg/s1600/indonesia-miss-world-dama.jpeg1-1280x960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbshXRXDsxH2_vm1J5Ojz-vqyVAGjHe2UbbtI_nhgemzMWMtlnyEUKsDT8Oj67UUTnhwnL5UGwTtDYtbsU8c8FRizsa0z9Xj0rqnJzhbR1D73_rRi3b5MK8vzqE43zg0ou8FArg/s1600/indonesia-miss-world-dama.jpeg1-1280x960.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Superficial
similarities between these two pronouncements aside though, I think it's fair
to say that the claims made by fundamentalist Islamic males that they are
looking after women's best interests have to be viewed in the context of honour
killings, full body-and-face coverings, educational disenfranchisement, genital
mutilation, polygamy and poor old Malala Yousafzai and Aesha Mohammadzai
(Google those names if you are unsure).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Fundamentalist
religion of this Saudi/Afghan flavour seems to be on the rise in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region> and
poses a real challenge for the government here (which is, to say the least, not
rising to meet that challenge or even enforcing the law properly). <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region> also passed
a pornography law a few years back which sets the public-indecency bar very low
indeed. Although, given the tsunamis of filth that spill forth from the
Internet these days, perhaps such a law is a rearguard action in an ultimately
losing battle (and let's be clear here that Jakartans at least are vociferous
consumers of web and DVD naughtiness).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Fundamentalist
religion does seem to lavish an inordinate amount of attention on issues of
sexuality, given the wars, famines, poverty, disease and potential
environmental collapse that currently stalk the globe. Whether it's
purple-faced Islamic preachers or fire-and-brimstone American Baptists (all men
of course), sexual guilt and repression have galvanised the most faithful of
the faithful and supplied monotheism is with its neurotic energy ever since men
and women first learned to walk upright and found that their hands fell to a
natural resting position next to their genitals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">All
of those bearded young men clutching rifles in one hand and copies of the holy
book in the other, sublimating their sexual tensions through militaristic
fervour, all of those "celibate" priests touching up little boys, are
surely in the grip of some kind of dark energy that doesn't inspire humankind's
better nature. And so, whither Miss World in this demonic cesspool of human
sexuality? Well, for me, in 2013, it all seems somewhat quaint and amusingly old-fashioned,
but my heathen arse is surely going to hell in any case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-6372460394225031162014-02-07T10:35:00.003+07:002014-02-07T10:35:57.769+07:00Free<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indonesia is 68 years young<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indonesia
is into its silver-haired years and celebrated its sixty-eighth Independence Day
last August 17. The last few Independence Day celebrations have fallen during
the fasting month of Ramadan and have thus been somewhat muted affairs as a
consequence. <i>Hari Merdeka</i> (Freedom
Day) emerges out the other side of the religious tunnel in all of its glory
this year however and promises to be the riot of colour, noise, fun and games
that Indonesians know and enjoy so much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Indonesian
independence was officially proclaimed at 10am on Friday, August 17, 1945. The
1945 Proclamation of Independence (<i>Proklamasi
Kemerdekaan</i>) was signed by Sukarno and Mohammad Hatta, who were appointed
President and Vice-president the following day. This declaration was only the
start though, the beginning of a long campaign of diplomacy and armed resistance
that finally culminated in the country's colonial masters, the Dutch,
officially acknowledging Indonesia's independence in 1949. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgorfYUCKY7oEhq6-qPeb0IB5aFBk8UgBjoZJiPSJHRST-hkJbktvOO5kuxMCD2kWmIC_rHGb8cf3dEA7-bOMe5ggI0n0bJrItcbpAv-eZwvOdHCKmmXGD_8BVPwtFk8km09yocGQ/s1600/proklmasi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgorfYUCKY7oEhq6-qPeb0IB5aFBk8UgBjoZJiPSJHRST-hkJbktvOO5kuxMCD2kWmIC_rHGb8cf3dEA7-bOMe5ggI0n0bJrItcbpAv-eZwvOdHCKmmXGD_8BVPwtFk8km09yocGQ/s1600/proklmasi.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
Proclamation of Independence had been carefully prepared and planned a few
months earlier, however the whole thing was hastily brought forward to August
17 as a consequence of <st1:country-region w:st="on">Japan</st1:country-region>'s
unconditional surrender to the Allies following the nuclear attack on <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Nagasaki</st1:place></st1:city>. If you're
interested in this history, then head down to the Museum of the Declaration of
Independence, which you will find on Jl. Imam Bonjol 1 in Jakarta, housed in
the very building in which the declaration was actually signed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">These
days, the country's Independence Day is still celebrated with great enthusiasm
all across the Archipelago. Red and white flags are sold weeks in advance,
decorations are put up at private offices and government buildings, political
journalists churn out op-eds about the country's progress over the decades and
the challenges that lie ahead in the future, neighbourhood associations and
organisations plan special events and parties, TV shows get all historical and
school kids have a general whale of a time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Games
are enjoyed at street parties across the country too and include <i>krupuk </i>(cracker)
eating contests, three-legged races, tasty snacks, decorated floats and plenty
of general tomfoolery. The best-known Independence Day game though is called <i>panjat pinang</i> and involves competitors
attempting to scale slippery, specially greased poles and palm trees in order
to reach prizes which hang suspended from their tops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Meanwhile,
up at the Presidential Palace, the big man himself delivers a State of the
Nation address and is present at a solemn flag-raising ceremony attended by the
military, all of whom have polished their shoes and buttons to an extra
dazzling patriotic shine for the occasion. If you are really looking to
experience Independence Day in full swing, then head up to the National Monument
(Monas) and the adjacent palace and witness August 17 in its full pomp and
circumstance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">If
you're not too keen on dragging yourself all the way up there, then just take a
stroll around your local neighbourhood and soak in the fun sights, sounds and
indeed tastes of Freedom Day. One important piece of advice though, don't leave
it too late. One of the things perhaps most worthy of admiration about this
country is the ability of its citizens to get up at the crack of dawn or even
earlier and the August 17 fun tends to be over by lunchtime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">So,
tempting as it may be to enjoy a lie in on this national holiday (especially
this year, as Independence Day falls on a Saturday morning after a potentially
heavy Friday night), we would encourage you to set your alarms and join in the
fun. You won't regret it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Just
what does August 17 mean to Indonesians these days though? Well, I thought that it
would prove instructive to head out onto the streets with my trusty dictaphone
and ask a few people for their views.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Starting
at the higher end of the social spectrum, one young professional told me,
"I'm not sure if Independence Day has the same significance that it once
did for people. I think that Indonesians are more uncertain about the country
now and about the different forces that are competing as we head into the
future. Also, people have a greater access to information now in this digital
age and this also is eroding people's perhaps rather one-dimensional,
simplistic sense of nationalism."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Highfalutin
stuff for sure. Another of my interlocutors, a Miss Weni, told me that, "Of
course Independence Day is important but in 68 years, Indonesia has not really
been able to develop itself to the level that it could reach as a nation,
largely due to misuses of power I believe."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Later
that day, my motorcycle taxi driver told me that, "The kids still love the
games and it's good fun to have a national day but I think that people are more
suspicious of their government these days."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And
the ambivalence continued as I headed into my local minimart for some liquid
refreshment, where a customer that I quizzed about Indonesian independence
informed me that, "We should remember our struggles for freedom, as there
are those in the country today who are sowing the seeds of conflict, division
and religious intolerance."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">So
there we have it. A small cross-section admittedly but clearly feelings of
nationalism seem somewhat tinged by nervousness and uncertainty here in 2013,
68 years into the great Republic of Indonesia project. This is probably a
reflection of an economic boom that is still masks weak and corrupt political
institutions, underdeveloped human resources and infrastructure, persistent
poverty and a poor education system. Whether the country will improve after
next year's presidential election will depend on who is elected. Fingers
crossed for 2014 folks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-73355938855023876842014-02-07T10:30:00.002+07:002014-02-07T10:30:14.784+07:00A Quarter of a Million Flowers Bloom<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I've been given the
onerous task of composing this month's Afterthought and of offering up a
Westerner's "perspective" on the state of the country as Independence
Day rolls around for the sixty-eighth time. Why onerous? Because, like all
attempts to pigeonhole people by their skin colour or geographical origin, I
find the very concept to be flawed. I am a Westerner, granted, and have lived
in this country for some years now, however my perceptions and conclusions have
often differed from those espoused by other "bules" that I have met
on my travels, and thus any concept of a Western perspective should be taken
with a pinch of salt.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zfH5RenRqRDJ-jNS1a4G6IGWHomjNKu25uCQDi5tWMDUueNhNQrIOVb6bOiobsLHPcL4PJQXALVmRclna5DqRWG5lXxsJ-_S3kfiAo0NTocSiQHYpgVa9BaFNOEqgoYACPnhOg/s1600/1382087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zfH5RenRqRDJ-jNS1a4G6IGWHomjNKu25uCQDi5tWMDUueNhNQrIOVb6bOiobsLHPcL4PJQXALVmRclna5DqRWG5lXxsJ-_S3kfiAo0NTocSiQHYpgVa9BaFNOEqgoYACPnhOg/s1600/1382087.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">And surely the same thing
applies to the notion of a unifying Indonesian perspective, as flags ascend
poles and lip service is paid to freedom across the archipelago this month.
Patriotism can be seen in this context as a flag being drawn over the real
issues that matter to people here: inequality, social justice, women's rights,
poverty, sectarian turmoil and a kleptocratic political elite who promulgate an
agenda of so-called transnational “globalisation”, which essentially amounts to
the world's powerful governments pushing trade deals and other accords down the
throats of the people to make it easier for corporations and the wealthy to
dominate the economies of nations around the globe without having obligations
to the people of those nations. Far easier to salute the flag than to address
that little lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">Proud to be Indonesian or
American or Chinese on a priori grounds? Well being born in a certain country
isn't a skill, it's a genetic accident. As the legendary George Carlin
explains, "You wouldn't be proud of having a predisposition for colon
cancer." Far better that people take pride in things that they've actually
done and of how they comport themselves in a moral way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">Such knee-jerk nationalism
is propagated all over the world though. Even in America, for example, the
so-called “Land of the Free”, the term anti-American is often bandied about
willy-nilly. This is a very odd category indeed to be pressing into service in
a supposedly democratic country which embraces the concept of free speech, and
is basically a phrase that is totalitarian in nature. I mean, the Soviet Union
had a concept of anti-Sovietism, while the fascist Brazilian generals in the
1970s had a notion of anti-Brazilianism, through which they terrorised the
population into marching in lockstep. But try going to Sweden and talking of
anti-Swedenism. People will laugh at you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0obDmlTWv4Mg6TJmF8FOxsONOEO_gSopDcsbMAHWMiSSFgbQE5F9AunXRMIN5Z4eO-dH6i2sJoDtuLIZasZD1bBnVCQMgypAGxdIH5SAybEfTFBFkUfzKLcIkDRUUrjPmCtpMzw/s1600/Hut-Indonesia-ke-67-tahun-2012-Apel-Photography-Walpaper-Indonesia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0obDmlTWv4Mg6TJmF8FOxsONOEO_gSopDcsbMAHWMiSSFgbQE5F9AunXRMIN5Z4eO-dH6i2sJoDtuLIZasZD1bBnVCQMgypAGxdIH5SAybEfTFBFkUfzKLcIkDRUUrjPmCtpMzw/s1600/Hut-Indonesia-ke-67-tahun-2012-Apel-Photography-Walpaper-Indonesia.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">The primary goal of such
my-country-right-or-wrong rhetoric is to divert people away from pressing their
demands in the political arena and from gaining a deeper understanding of how
political power can change and how it affects their lives. And indeed it does
change. Indonesia's first president, Soekarno, alongside colleagues such as
Mohammad Hatta and Sutan Sjahrir, were the men primarily responsible for
declaring Indonesia’s independence in the first place, and they offered a
political blend of Islamic-tinged socialism that differs wildly from the
Indonesia of today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt;">Espouse the ideas of
these founding fathers at any point since the CIA-backed rise to power of
Suharto through to the present though and you're more likely to feel the
jackboots of the organisations examined in Joshua Oppenheimer's Oscar-tipped
"The Act of Killing" on your throat. So what does it then mean to be
a patriotic Indonesian? Social justice? Democracy? These values are indeed
enshrined in the country's "five moral principles" of Pancasila, principles
that people still learn by rote in the country’s schools to this day. Simply
waving flags once a year will not help to strengthen values such as these
though, values which are, in fact, truly universal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-69967105388377517302014-02-07T10:22:00.003+07:002014-02-07T10:22:36.922+07:00Balls<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">No fewer than three English Premier
League clubs came to town as part of their pre-season warm ups last year</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"He's football crazy,
he's football mad, football has gone and robbed him of the sense he ever
had." So run the lyrics of a popular British song from the 1960s, which is
perhaps an appropriate summation of a phenomenon that has now gone global and extended
its muddy tentacles all the way over to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Perhaps this sporting hypothesis
accounts for the hundreds of rowdy local Arsenal and Manchester United fans that
I encountered watching all of the big-screen action down at Kemang's new Lippo mall
recently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Indeed, so authentic was
the Premier League, big-screen, <i>nonton-bareng </i>(watch-together)
atmosphere, that my companion and I even feared a spot of British hooligan
fisticuffs from the bunch of local Man. U. fans filled with lager-fuelled
bonhomie who spilled out onto the street post game. The EPL has well and truly
arrived in a city that lies a full 12,000km from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">England</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s grey and unpleasant land,
which is some serious air miles to be putting in if you’re attending home
games. That’s 19 home games per season multiplied by 12,000km each way, which
is 465,000km. Greater than the distance to the moon in fact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Well these chaps could save their bonus air miles this month, as three of the most famous football clubs in the
world, namely Arsenal, Liverpool and Chelsea, pitched up in Jakarta to
play a series of pre-season friendlies last July and to no doubt also shot a flurry of spray-on
deodorant commercials while they they were in town, a full four years after Manchester United cancelled
their Jakarta trip due to the (second) Marriott hotel bombing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Arsenal arrived first, on July 14, followed by Liverpool on July 20 and finally <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Chelsea</st1:city></st1:place> on July 25. These
legendary EPL clubs played against (and obviously thrashed the pants off, despite
the games amounting to a gentle warm up for the three sides in question) an
Indonesian 11 down at Bung Karno Stadium in Senayan and were afforded the opportunity
to generate a little revenue whilst also enjoying some PR spin and pleasing
local fans who usually only ever see their heroes on television.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdI_X2PgNGRQirhuuk_7_TYeX5N59YDvcGg6iVFQTsrdD3uB8D8U-Ujv07maLplZ9C7H8du3JE6obE9vRaXeymodCgeeXDRB-Qnm38uWex-sM2eURkUS5fF1qnWm_g6zWvSQPJHA/s1600/top_arsenal_asia_tour_2013_indonesia_apc_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdI_X2PgNGRQirhuuk_7_TYeX5N59YDvcGg6iVFQTsrdD3uB8D8U-Ujv07maLplZ9C7H8du3JE6obE9vRaXeymodCgeeXDRB-Qnm38uWex-sM2eURkUS5fF1qnWm_g6zWvSQPJHA/s1600/top_arsenal_asia_tour_2013_indonesia_apc_01.jpg" height="151" width="320" /></a></div>
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<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Indonesia</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: Arial;"> itself has aspirations to host the World Cup at some
point and 2022 has been mooted, although maybe 2822 would be a more realistic
date to aim for. FIFA, the sport's governing body, has long been mired in
allegations of financial impropriety and when combined with <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s own
brand of seemingly boundless endemic corruption (which has most recently
revolved around the construction of a sports stadium, funnily enough) it perhaps
doesn't bode well for the Indonesian people themselves actually gaining much
from such a tournament.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Major world sporting
events have now become highly corporatised affairs. FIFA basked in USD 631
million in profits after the last World Cup in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Africa</st1:place></st1:country-region> and it's not difficult
to understand why. The organisation first gets the host nation to stump up for
new stadiums and infrastructure before moving in for the tournament proper and
setting up a corporate state-within-a-state, in which only official partner
products are allowed to be sold. This is presumably why I was left supping on dishwater-bland
US Budweiser whilst watching matches in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Cape
Town</st1:place></st1:city> during the last World Cup finals, whilst everyone
else in the city not at the games could enjoy the far tastier local suds. More
recently, in Brazil, hosts of next year's World Cup as well as the next
Olympics, national-football-legend-turned-politician Romario has broken ranks
in order to question the whole corporate ethos of the modern sporting
spectacle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Arsenal, <st1:city w:st="on">Chelsea</st1:city>
and Liverpool played against a national 11 last year and it’s fair to
say that the Indonesian national team are no <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Brazil</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Indeed, the local game is
in a real mess at the moment, despite the tremendous enthusiasm that exists for
football in this country. A romantic view of poverty and football is often
trotted out with regard to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Brazil</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
namely the notion that starting off in some <i>favela</i> shantytown kicking a
tin can around the streets imbues one with some kind of Nietzschian footballing
will to power and puts soccer steel in the soul. Well, if that were all it took,
then <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>
would be multiple world champions by now, instead of being routinely thrashed
six-nil by miniscule Middle Eastern oil protectorates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1Mrwa4jI5fuyk26NpYNkbBBGDU5i2dVMvAGNn38dBtmLWo212Saq9EhCmNlggZzp0i_oUtwhc4YdOW5W1P-YpgujThQd3yWbvte0XQlHq1lRveQC3Rc0igOjIwi2x8r1GWpGmQ/s1600/batik_liverpool.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1Mrwa4jI5fuyk26NpYNkbBBGDU5i2dVMvAGNn38dBtmLWo212Saq9EhCmNlggZzp0i_oUtwhc4YdOW5W1P-YpgujThQd3yWbvte0XQlHq1lRveQC3Rc0igOjIwi2x8r1GWpGmQ/s1600/batik_liverpool.jpeg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">At the other end of the
economic spectrum, the English Premier League has gone into global overdrive
over the past decade, with the money side of the game spiralling to absolutely
absurd levels. Players salaries have inflated massively and the clubs that have
to pay them thus suffer from a kind of prune-juice effect, as revenues
generated immediately slide out the back door and into centre forwards' bank
accounts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In order to bankroll all
of this largesse, oligarchs and mega-rich consortiums have moved in, the kind
of people who will presumably be first against the wall when the Occupy
movement storms the ramparts in its silly "V for Vendetta" masks. <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Chelsea</st1:city></st1:place>, for example, are
bankrolled by one Roman Abramovich, a Russian oligarch who rose to riches on
the pinstriped-gangster wave of the post-Soviet 1990s. Meanwhile, newly minted <st1:placename w:st="on">Manchester</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype>
is funded by <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Abu Dhabi</st1:place></st1:city>’s
Sheikh Mansour, who apparently sits on a family fortune of USD 1 trillion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">More deeply though, does
vegging out on a sofa watching people kicking a ball around, an event of
absolutely zero importance with regard to the political realities of people's
day-to-day lives, actually have any value? Perhaps, as has been suggested,
spectator sport is a crucial part of our social-indoctrination systems. It gets
people paying attention to something of no importance whatsoever and also
builds up feelings of irrational jingoism and group cohesion behind leadership
elements. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv_jNp8oAR7TgSF_NcZvWP0VJg3Bo6yA_tzW_Me82QMpoFRZ27UNDR18NOuhhhgi8ti_KVBUadpyLzxJEru7d1PhI10L7e9ZwNjSuzWwfpfqtQmcMNyKW9KjoUrRQAMLO4isnXw/s1600/130720-051-Indonesia_XI_Liverpool1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv_jNp8oAR7TgSF_NcZvWP0VJg3Bo6yA_tzW_Me82QMpoFRZ27UNDR18NOuhhhgi8ti_KVBUadpyLzxJEru7d1PhI10L7e9ZwNjSuzWwfpfqtQmcMNyKW9KjoUrRQAMLO4isnXw/s1600/130720-051-Indonesia_XI_Liverpool1.jpg" height="202" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Bah humbug!” I hear you
cry. Well, I have to confess that I was cheering and blowing my South
African <i>vuvuzela</i> into the earholes of local Arsenal fans last July 14.
The Indonesian national side may not be packing many budding Lionel Messis,
however the atmosphere down at Gelora Bung Karno can be quite electric on match
day. Shouting, chanting, lighting illegal flares, enjoying Mexican waves and a little
light pick-pocketing can all be yours. Admittedly, these three games were held in the middle of the fasting month but this didn't seem to put a
damper on the atmosphere too much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-87423612949501472682014-02-07T10:12:00.002+07:002014-02-07T10:13:24.452+07:00Yes We Can?<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Time for a quick progress report on <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>’s new governor</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Jakarta's very own caped
crusaders, Joko "Jokowi" Widodo and his trusty sidekick Basuki
"Ahok" Purnama Tjahaya, scorched into town aboard their governor’s
Batmobile on the back of a historic election victory in 2012 and there were
high hopes that our new Governator would draw the line under the corruption,
indolence and Machiavellian rent seeking of previous administrations. There is
simply no time to lose though, as the capital's infrastructure can be described
as moribund at best, and at worst about half a century behind where it should
be.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Inaugurated last October
to much fanfare, the former Mayor of Solo set reformist pulses a fluttering
from the get go by busying himself with the Indonesian capital's
multidimensional problems, breathing a breath of fresh air into the stale Bajaj
fug of City Hall in the process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuecatSobl0pfhs42AmjlQpi6eIw2He3VizOcT47JL5mJgw-15ceVQT8RHUDpJT9r7VqVxGYVtAvhH_XcI5WNqsBmsWG9x9wrBSe_MA-MiYko7xqgktj1yEmWdxxENFlAZ10jF0g/s1600/Jokowi_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuecatSobl0pfhs42AmjlQpi6eIw2He3VizOcT47JL5mJgw-15ceVQT8RHUDpJT9r7VqVxGYVtAvhH_XcI5WNqsBmsWG9x9wrBSe_MA-MiYko7xqgktj1yEmWdxxENFlAZ10jF0g/s1600/Jokowi_1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">But just how has <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>'s very own Obama
fared over the last year plus? Has he brought rebirth and renewal to the
nation's capital or has he proved to be as disappointingly conservative and
beholden to entrenched interests as that still-quacking lame duck, the former
Barry Soetoro? Let's take a closer look…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Prices<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Our man has busied himself
visiting local markets in order to check on the prices of staple goods. Jokowi
is also liaising closely with <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>'s
Co-Operative, Micro, Small and Medium Enterprises and Trade Agency and is
listening to vendors’ concerns. By his own admission though, controlling prices
will be a tough nut to crack. Plans to renovate and modernise the city's wet
markets are all well and good, however recent price spikes and a forthcoming
reduction in fuel subsidies and its accompanying inflation will mean more pain
for the poor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Transportation<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Three more busway
corridors are planned for the city and these ones will be elevated in an
attempt to alleviate congestion (as opposed to actually exacerbating congestion
as the current busway lanes arguably do). One hundred and two badly needed new
busway buses were also recently christened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The real question though
is when the capital's MRT project will finally steam out of platform one.
Jokowi has very wisely put the whole scheme under the fiscal microscope, as the
potential for graft and corruption on mega infrastructure such as this is
colossal. Indeed, the steepness of the proposed Rp. 110 trillion price tag that
comes with this project borders on the perpendicular.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Ultimately, this MRT scheme
is going to need some heavy backing from central government. The city budget is
hoping to provide around 60 per cent of the funding needed for the project with
the government providing the rest of the money in order to repay a loan from
the Japan International Cooperation Agency. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city> remains the largest city in the world
not to have its own MRT system and journeys by car across the capital can now
be measured in geological time. Fingers crossed folks!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatZgUcgihL1wOVsiYKyzPqjO1AkaLiL6NWgeK6jX_RqA0bNjEPq9MWdX029Fq70QjahboXa_ZzlTWQKYa8T7T9hL3aeuH0dmFXKi30A0eyT9TfMM7OUfEprSUk37W33Ao7nP1uw/s1600/Jokowi-Jakarta-Baru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatZgUcgihL1wOVsiYKyzPqjO1AkaLiL6NWgeK6jX_RqA0bNjEPq9MWdX029Fq70QjahboXa_ZzlTWQKYa8T7T9hL3aeuH0dmFXKi30A0eyT9TfMM7OUfEprSUk37W33Ao7nP1uw/s1600/Jokowi-Jakarta-Baru.jpg" height="297" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Healthcare<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Jokowi set up the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city> health-card
programme upon taking office and this aims to offer free healthcare to the
poor. To date though, only a few thousand of a possible 4.7 million eligible <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city> residents have
received healthcare cards. Not only is the city administration short on funds
for the printing of these cards but there are also obstacles to implementing
the programme at the 17 hospitals and 200 designated community health centres
across the capital. The administration has allocated Rp. 1 trillion for healthcare
over the next year, however the new governor has come under fire from those who
claim that his programmes are poorly planned and underfunded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Flooding<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Jakarta</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-family: Arial;"> has once again turned into Atlantis this current wet
season and climate change, combined with a literally sinking city, doesn't bode
well for a dry future for the capital. President SBY has approved Jokowi's
flood-prevention programmes, which include the relocation of riverbank
squatters, the widening of rivers to increase the flow of water, construction
of upstream reservoirs, a pump system in <st1:place w:st="on">North Jakarta</st1:place>,
a special "spillway" for the East Jakarta Flood canal and a system of
10,000 wells to absorb run-off water. In total, Rp. 250 billion has been
allocated for flood prevention initiatives. Sounds good but these are long-term
programmes and don't necessarily guarantee victory against that ubiquitous H2O.
2002, 2007, 2013? 2014? Brace yourself for next year once again folks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Poverty<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Jokowi has described
social disparity as his biggest worry and one could drive a busway fleet
side-by-side through the ever-widening gap that persists between <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:city></st1:place>'s haves and
have-nots. Such a gap has its dangers, and the city's hyper-dense social
pressure cooker risks blowing its top as it did back in 1998. Jokowi's
healthcare and education programmes have been given top priority by the new
governor, who shows a concern for poverty unmatched by both his predecessors
and by the national government. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Social-welfare policies
are an ideological hornet’s nest the world over, however there can be no
question that <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>
and its 360 slum areas have been severely neglected. Inaction on this issue is
surely morally inadmissible and Jokowi represents a break with the past in a
country that has largely ignored its poorest citizens since the days of the New
Order regime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_agDKgsQls1VZlZm5lFLJ8LLW32uLJ4ZdGm7PPcc7rPxA2pHpj2UQFgRqi7sCYwCgKZSDYIp-fkLegpDkCQBahlU5X3w1JoUSsGa3aGWTNcxFVlFNHAc5bhunrP8lGYjh8VNEg/s1600/obama_style_for_jokowi_by_ndop-d6k1ioh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_agDKgsQls1VZlZm5lFLJ8LLW32uLJ4ZdGm7PPcc7rPxA2pHpj2UQFgRqi7sCYwCgKZSDYIp-fkLegpDkCQBahlU5X3w1JoUSsGa3aGWTNcxFVlFNHAc5bhunrP8lGYjh8VNEg/s1600/obama_style_for_jokowi_by_ndop-d6k1ioh.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Green Areas<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Jokowi plans to double the
city’s presently woeful lack of green space. Twenty per cent of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>’s total area is
the governor's ambitious first-term target and several projects are planned. It
remains to be seen how he'll get on though as the economy booms and new malls and
apartments spring up across town while land prices skyrocket and the pursuit of
profit continues to trump all considerations of liveability.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Verdict<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Governor Jokowi swept to
power bearing the hopes of millions on his shoulders. His, "Yes we
can," determination offered the city its best hope for the future since former-governor
Ali Sadikin attempted to modernise the Indonesian capital in the '60s and '70s.
How our man will fare as he locks antlers with the country’s nest-feathering
political machine is still an open question but if the capital can't improve
its infrastructure now, when the economy is booming, then when exactly can it?
Onwards and upwards please.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-329645241694712182014-02-07T10:05:00.003+07:002014-02-07T10:05:27.956+07:00No Sex Please, We’re Skittish <div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">A proposed new law threatens to put a stop to unmarried
hanky panky<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Liberty</span></st1:city><span style="font-family: Arial;"> lovers here in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region> once again find
themselves under attack from the Machiavellian machinations and pompous
paternalism of the political machine. Only a couple of months after I reflected
upon a new proposal to outlaw alcohol completely in the country, a proposed
KUHP (criminal code) revision is seeking to outlaw unmarried and premarital
sex, on pains of a five-year stint in jail. Wahiduddin Adams, director-general
for legislation at the Justice and Human Rights Ministry, is perhaps not
getting into the true spirit of his ministry’s name when he states that a
prohibition on the making of the beast with two backs outside the institution
of holy wedlock merely reflects the prevailing norms in Indonesian society.</span></div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EKoS9ZSw-INrh627FSSWdxHn9UTyuv3L5eY2wggHYk7wCZoZTJIuMjBM0zHh8vTyYi0ZJnTAKhHsB1z3v7Ko51YsKoYwS_DW6vLvcywrC_JfcYVTG1usuKxnQMCR81Iu8dUDcw/s1600/v.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EKoS9ZSw-INrh627FSSWdxHn9UTyuv3L5eY2wggHYk7wCZoZTJIuMjBM0zHh8vTyYi0ZJnTAKhHsB1z3v7Ko51YsKoYwS_DW6vLvcywrC_JfcYVTG1usuKxnQMCR81Iu8dUDcw/s1600/v.jpeg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">As if in an attempt to
sweeten a somewhat bitter pill, it has been claimed that such a law would not
be used to put together an anti-shagging riot squad who would roam the country
kicking in doors in an attempt to surprise furtive lovers in flagrante before
cuffing them and escorting them down to the station for extensive forensic
tests on their nether regions. No, apparently this draconian new legislation
could only be applied if a report against an individual was filed by others who
deem that they have been put at a disadvantage because of the action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is a disconcertingly
vague stipulation though and one that sounds open to abuse by everyone from
jealous rivals to overprotective parents. Whatever could,
"disadvantage" mean in this context, outside of being kept awake by
the moans and groans emanating from the upstairs flat, surely a minor
inconvenience for which a five-year jail term would seem somewhat severe?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Future laws banning alcohol,
as well as extramarital and premarital sex, clearly seem to be symptomatic of a
society intent on rolling back secular, liberal freedoms. Such "sharia-ization"
has previously arrived via the back door of regional autonomy, as hardly anyone
here votes for overtly religious parties in national elections. Now though it’s
come a knocking on the front door. It should be noted however that all
religions have historically had their more puritanical sides to deal with. As
that irascible American legend Gore Vidal once suggested, the Christian Puritans
didn't just leave Europe for the <st1:place w:st="on">New World</st1:place> in
order to be free from persecution, they went there to be free to persecute,
which indeed they did, with great vehemence and with appalling consequences for
those on the receiving end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4HfnXg649ZhSCIdEzFycyzwEFd7alOD-QVa-CEa_cu45Dr__9UxX6ZJ3O8gtiI_KnqxBAoBxRMulfo5pCf1o2IWLSyBYAStHWJunnGeHa9JQvg0fjzBKaLjYv-kz4pm2xqfOyA/s1600/soc_monogamy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4HfnXg649ZhSCIdEzFycyzwEFd7alOD-QVa-CEa_cu45Dr__9UxX6ZJ3O8gtiI_KnqxBAoBxRMulfo5pCf1o2IWLSyBYAStHWJunnGeHa9JQvg0fjzBKaLjYv-kz4pm2xqfOyA/s1600/soc_monogamy.gif" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Fast forward to Indonesia
2013 and persecution of minorities and those who don't adhere to perceived
norms of piety (which at any rate mask a multitude of corrupt hypocrisies) is
on the rise. For example, more than 430 churches have been attacked, closed or
burned down here since 2004. In this context, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s amazing economic growth
masks a social trajectory that appears to be heading backwards rather than forwards.
It’s an impulse perhaps best categorised by that other old irascible American
man of letters, HL Mencken, who once claimed that Puritanism is the, “haunting
feeling that somewhere, someone may be happy." Gay marriage in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region></st1:place>?
Far easier to imagine fleets of hover <i>bajaj</i>s
or snow falling on Senayan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">But just why exactly do
religion and prohibitions on sexual behaviour so often go hand-in-hand across
different faiths? Well, there are a number of possible reasons and it would
perhaps be illuminating to unravel a few of these during what remains of this
month's Big J. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Firstly, most monotheistic
religions originally flourished among the poor and dispossessed, who sought
reward for their misery in the next world. They would see their rich masters
and slave drivers engaging in hedonistic behaviour such as gluttony and sexual
promiscuity, activities not available to them. And so thus, making a virtue out
of a necessity, fasting and sexual abstinence became seen as positive
expressions of faith and were codified in their religions. These tenets have
remained even as religion has been co-opted by the masters and the prevailing
social power structures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBqKk6ko-msK9P6TM2JIthIs58n4U89MEJ77uikV00gOXVM6B7gjvNFFDVTjZ4YCXp9jp-QagtQCmjNUd88SVaVnwXX_3XFKJv9ZaYMiY8MaYc2YlI0gm4UQbEShIbb_5I2CYdw/s1600/monogamy-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBqKk6ko-msK9P6TM2JIthIs58n4U89MEJ77uikV00gOXVM6B7gjvNFFDVTjZ4YCXp9jp-QagtQCmjNUd88SVaVnwXX_3XFKJv9ZaYMiY8MaYc2YlI0gm4UQbEShIbb_5I2CYdw/s1600/monogamy-1.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">That's one explanation.
Moving along to our second line of analysis, we enter the murky world of
Freudian psychoanalysis, which perhaps offers a narrative account of human
behaviour more compelling than most religions do. One of the central pillars of
psychoanalysis is the concept of ego defence, which originates in early
childhood and which inhibits normal, healthy functioning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Projection is one such ego
defence in which a person’s feelings of guilt and shame are projected onto
others. It's like looking at yourself in the mirror and believing the image to
be someone else. In <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
social and religious taboos such as premarital sex are projected onto the West
and the image in the mirror becomes that of the white man. The notion of
Western liberal values however, is crudely reductive in any case, as democracy
originated in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Greece</st1:place></st1:country-region>
before reaching the West via the Islamic world, who guarded the flame of the
whole Platonic cannon during the European Dark Ages. Projecting onto the West
in this manner however serves the pathological function of preventing people
from confronting their own failings and inadequacies, as measured against the
edifice of their faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Another reason for sexual
repression, especially of women (and if we're honest here, the ladies have
traditionally had things a lot harder than men in this regard) was forwarded by
Karl Marx's good buddy Engels. He noted that in economic terms, men like to
leave their wealth to their sons, and if they do that, then they need to know
who their sons actually are, which requires monogamy and strict prohibitions on
female sexuality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This also has the secondary
effect of creating a climate of fear that makes people afraid to challenge
society’s prevailing power structures. Religion has largely moved from being
the domain of the dispossessed to being a bulwark for the establishment status
quo, and is thus a useful tool of control for society’s elites, whose own
personal adherence to religious rules hasn't historically, to say the least,
been that good. If you're a woman in Aceh, for example, and are busy worrying
about the religious police's interest in your tight jeans and veil, you may
have little fight left in you to demonstrate against rampant corruption.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">All fascinating stuff I
trust you'll agree, although I should stress at this point that I'm a virgin and
have an official certificate to prove it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-53563124883167740832014-02-01T11:27:00.000+07:002014-02-01T11:27:04.767+07:00Bali by Bike<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Whenever
I see an adult on a bicycle, I have hope for the human race," declared
literary time traveller HG Wells. Nothing as grandiose as the salvation of
mankind was on my mind when I packed up my two-wheeled beast of burden and flew
over to Bali for a few days of sun, sea, sweat and saddle sores recently,
however Indonesia does offer cyclists an embarrassment of riches: open ocean
roads, fertile jungle rides, picturesque villages and, of course, vertiginous
hills. There are always hills if you're a bicyclist, there’s no getting around
that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Day
One - Legian- Seminyak - Kuta - 0-10km<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Okay
okay, this was admittedly no Lance Armstrong feat of endurance cycling, but I
thought that it would be best to ease into the tour with a spot of R and R, and
pedal power proved to be an entirely illuminating way of navigating the
shop-and-restaurant-filled micro gangs of Bali Ground Zero. It seems de rigueur
these days to frown upon the crass commercialism and lowbrow vibes of the Kuta
area, however a single day spent here is not without its enjoyment and charms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriszceQ-2jHgGggjdLSRstquK30O-y6pWa5gefRiemDbNJ6XeohJiFy6sioDe1yes_JsEfeA6LkjiMaTwuh2VSIIzjDgFV-NpZ3JZo9KTyQtOkJnXp7ZvkTIiZvrzGLr1oxdSvg/s1600/2012-06-04+15.45.48+%2528Small%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriszceQ-2jHgGggjdLSRstquK30O-y6pWa5gefRiemDbNJ6XeohJiFy6sioDe1yes_JsEfeA6LkjiMaTwuh2VSIIzjDgFV-NpZ3JZo9KTyQtOkJnXp7ZvkTIiZvrzGLr1oxdSvg/s1600/2012-06-04+15.45.48+%2528Small%2529.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Day
Two - Legian - Sanur - Candidasa - 60km<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Sixty
clicks in a single day are about my bicycling limit, as I'm not looking to
break any ironman endurance records when I head out on tour. This day's ride
was flat and not too strenuous. There was a fair amount of traffic that I had to share
the road with on the first 12km stretch down to Sanur, however upon arrival I
could enjoy Sanur's famous bicycle-and-pedestrian-only, 4km-long beachfront walk,
which passes in front of a cornucopia of bars, hotels and restaurants and which
offers superb views over the ocean all the way to Gunung Agung in the distance.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">After a beachside
lunch and a quick spin along the promenade, it was time to head up to Candidasa.
The road hugged the coast like a blanket, offering some great views, and
thankfully the traffic tapered out to a trickle after 10km or so. Side roads led
down to the beach all the way along the route and I managed to check out a
couple of deserted sandy stretches. Further down the road, the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Bali</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Safari
& Marine</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>
(<i><a href="http://www.balisafarimarinepark.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">www.balisafarimarinepark.com</span></a></i>)
offered a nice break. Featuring 60 rare species the park made for a superb
stopover. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Continuing
on to Candidasa, a brief stop in the still charming backpacker zone of
neighbouring Padangbai was in order. As well as boats across the strait to <st1:place w:st="on">Lombok</st1:place>, Padangbai boasts a sleepy pace of life and a
beautiful little curve of beach. The final run into Candidasa was a slight test
of my mettle, as the road ascends for a few kilometres. It's a thigh-singeing
sting in the tail for sure, but after a beer on the seafront, all was well with
the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnq_FXl7YFdMOW1W8qT9ynGI6b6hB23OCW7iMoAWnveRKN6OynaPMfKcUHpeUDLdTrGEbMmfH8FD2l_eRf3MIBHvInTrDLHiCOMR-_nXbT-vRxu1-4ccupcFEi5wSwGCcI7Oa1A/s1600/2012-06-05+10.31.54+%2528Small%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLnq_FXl7YFdMOW1W8qT9ynGI6b6hB23OCW7iMoAWnveRKN6OynaPMfKcUHpeUDLdTrGEbMmfH8FD2l_eRf3MIBHvInTrDLHiCOMR-_nXbT-vRxu1-4ccupcFEi5wSwGCcI7Oa1A/s1600/2012-06-05+10.31.54+%2528Small%2529.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1Bh0i75gi3gUol0MgN_3UGRkC1hgDdoP5lroPEcsTQ4_N5CAYZ1k_CPmwrVUDiK0Y3EE6q_FDW3Wr4l3ZC92fpJuCLFkI2ZaFUwx2GCzxNMSxW3rZxmJCD0ciGcPGYPZZHuD0w/s1600/2012-06-05+13.43.55+%2528Small%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1Bh0i75gi3gUol0MgN_3UGRkC1hgDdoP5lroPEcsTQ4_N5CAYZ1k_CPmwrVUDiK0Y3EE6q_FDW3Wr4l3ZC92fpJuCLFkI2ZaFUwx2GCzxNMSxW3rZxmJCD0ciGcPGYPZZHuD0w/s1600/2012-06-05+13.43.55+%2528Small%2529.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Day
Three - Candidasa - Tirtagangga - Selat - 40km<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The third
day of my Tour de East <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place> started with a
ride along the scenic Candidasa coastline for a few kilometres to one of the
island’s best-kept sandy secrets. In fact, it isn't actually so much of a
secret any more, but perhaps this is for the best, as this means that there are
sunbeds, beach umbrellas and <i>warungs </i>selling grilled fish and Bintang.
The turning down to Pasir Putih (<st1:placename w:st="on">White</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Beach</st1:placetype>), as it's known, can be found
about 5km east of Candidasa, near the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">village</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Perasi</st1:placename></st1:place>.
The turning is signposted but can be quite hard to spot, which is where
travelling by bicycle comes in handy. A 1.5km-long track took me down to a
delightful crescent of white sand backed by coconut trees, with a shady cliff
at one end and some very mellow surf to enjoy. In fact, this little strip of
sand is much like a mini Jimbaran. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">After a
90-minute lounge, it was time for the uphill push away from the coast through
the town of <st1:city w:st="on">Amlapura</st1:city>, up to the Tirta Gangga
(Water of the <st1:place w:st="on">Ganges</st1:place>) water temple. The road
ascends the whole way, although the incline is not too steep, and so I managed
to find a slow, low-gear rhythm and pedalled the whole route without
dismounting once, a source of some pride. I should confess here though that I
stopped halfway up for a warung<i> </i>lunch
of pork, pork and more pork, Balinese style.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Tirta
Gangga itself is an endlessly photogenic place, and after reeling off megabytes
of snaps, I took a cooling dip in one of the ancient pools before heading off
again through beautiful terraced paddies. I cycled west along a stunning
central Balinese road that skirted the bottom of the towering Gunung Agung. The
road offered some breathtaking views but also ascended and ascended, seemingly
forever. I got off and pushed up the ascent for an hour or so here, however this
gave my backside a rest, so it wasn’t so bad. Moreover, my trusty aluminium
steed carried the weight of my gear, in contrast to the spine-compressing
backpacks of the hiker. After a while though, I began to feel like a latterday
Sisyphus, endlessly rolling a 21-speed mountain bike uphill instead of a
boulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I passed
through the sweet villages of Bebanden, Sibetan and Duda before reaching Selat,
which lies near the starting point for an assault on the mighty Agung. I
thought I'd give mountaineering a miss though and instead checked into an
amazing little hotel called Great Mountain Views (<i>www.greatmountainbali.com</i>). Not the most imaginative or poetic of
names perhaps but thankfully it does what it says on the tin. Sipping beer in
the lee of <st1:placetype w:st="on">Mount</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Agung</st1:placename>
and gazing out over rice paddies, I rested and drank in the beating heart of <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place>. I had come a long way, both literally and metaphorically,
from the chaos of Kuta, and it felt as if I had travelled in time as well as
space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ScxAeOevCAtZIEXtqoOrU-r9IzKw3pqyKjbAEjVhpjj-OkhfIMj1aizQxCv-mQs_1OLh2FABD5Ny1FMrE-LwA1eIiJoSWxaFk_pgMR1LFqkJlBj1kOVdbcxCsgkHPg7D0TOupg/s1600/IMG_3021+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ScxAeOevCAtZIEXtqoOrU-r9IzKw3pqyKjbAEjVhpjj-OkhfIMj1aizQxCv-mQs_1OLh2FABD5Ny1FMrE-LwA1eIiJoSWxaFk_pgMR1LFqkJlBj1kOVdbcxCsgkHPg7D0TOupg/s1600/IMG_3021+%2528Small%2529.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyVIKZ2TRfFO9_MxEub0UXlHKZQOg3UJKhY_HLmvCkdYemdk2xY08Lv1lftmkFNUyqGL5kciUUSxWbDq-KkmcrnBLMytzERjbz0woMZFeOeTpcgBIHbPtsdZtGJioPYEdP1pkqg/s1600/IMG_3006+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyVIKZ2TRfFO9_MxEub0UXlHKZQOg3UJKhY_HLmvCkdYemdk2xY08Lv1lftmkFNUyqGL5kciUUSxWbDq-KkmcrnBLMytzERjbz0woMZFeOeTpcgBIHbPtsdZtGJioPYEdP1pkqg/s1600/IMG_3006+%2528Small%2529.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16TBm7o-r3XFl2wpu-hHBG8O6CCJZN7C6mZrBACeYNm_M60eAyXOb3_HCst8gF3K74Fge1nDCGISIdGRqwoPpr4GupKggIKpqr5Y8Ay-JCut6Vtwuj0sKxNZlXlzU-9Hi_raylw/s1600/IMG_2991+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16TBm7o-r3XFl2wpu-hHBG8O6CCJZN7C6mZrBACeYNm_M60eAyXOb3_HCst8gF3K74Fge1nDCGISIdGRqwoPpr4GupKggIKpqr5Y8Ay-JCut6Vtwuj0sKxNZlXlzU-9Hi_raylw/s1600/IMG_2991+%2528Small%2529.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Day
Four - Selat - Ubud - 40km<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">After a
breakfast eaten in my hotel's paddy-field dining area, I hit the road once
more. The morning's ride was downhill all the way along the quiet Sidemen road
that rolls through some spectacular scenery. All of those Balinese clichés
about verdant rice terraces, plunging mountains and the omnipresent slopes of
Agung in the distance are really re-energised when you are on a bicycle,
freewheeling merrily downhill through the middle of all this sumptuous gorgeousness,
with only the occasional car or motorcycle to disturb the pellucid peace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I passed
through the lush paddy terraces of Sidemen, an artistic and cultural centre which
is particularly well known for its woven <i>ikat </i>(cloth). The area was also
home to renowned German artist Walter Spies, who lived here in the 1930s and
who had a profound influence on Balinese art. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
continued my freewheeling down the beautiful River Unda valley and eventually rolled
into the bustling but rather sweet little town of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Semarapura</st1:place></st1:city>, which is also commonly known as
Klungkung. Klungkung was once the centre of the island's most important kingdom
and was an artistic and cultural capital. On April 28, 1908 though, a terrible
battle raged here when the Balinese, armed only with traditional knives, were
mown down by Dutch guns. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I visited
the Kertha Gosa, an ancient hall of justice and a quite superb example of
Klungkung architecture. I also strolled through the attached Museum Semarajaya
before heading just across the road to the Monumen Puputan Klungkung, a rather
phallic looking erection whose interior is filled with dioramas depicting
Balinese history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I then pressed
on through the strong sun up towards the ever popular Ubud, passing some
Japanese caves and the colourful studio of eccentric artist Sukanta Wahyu along
the way. As I neared Ubud, the traffic increased noticeably, as this famous
little spot is more of a draw these days than it has ever been. This is where
the wonders of GPS and Google Maps really come into their own however. Simply
keep your smartphone handy and plunge off the main road for some satellite-guided
navigation through some of the area’s gorgeous rice fields. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tJZV1Y5Lpnh2bNBl56uEiETOQ0WA-oghvmQEhIFC8Vlwl6T5P7mHEJuY1rA-fgO3TX53SbECExxdcIIIbKIwn6_kxHCEbbdMLSH6UTJLxppfVWT7y0tP8fBH9X7bWYXwtkfBRQ/s1600/IMG_2985+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tJZV1Y5Lpnh2bNBl56uEiETOQ0WA-oghvmQEhIFC8Vlwl6T5P7mHEJuY1rA-fgO3TX53SbECExxdcIIIbKIwn6_kxHCEbbdMLSH6UTJLxppfVWT7y0tP8fBH9X7bWYXwtkfBRQ/s1600/IMG_2985+%2528Small%2529.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Day
Five - Ubud - Kuta - 40km<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">As the
crow flies, this final leg was only around 30km in length, but as the crow
flies is so not the way to do this one. In fact, I fired up Google Maps once
more and spent the entire morning pottering around the endless carpet of green
that is the Ubud <i>sawah</i> (rice
paddies). The centre of Ubud may these days rather depressingly resemble a Kuta
beach for yoga aficionados and people writing their first novels, however
relief from all the hustle and bustle was just a few turns of the pedals away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
eventually headed south towards Denpasar. Using the mighty Google once again I
managed to skirt around the edge of <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place>'s
choking capital via some surprisingly mellow and enjoyable side roads. I
gradually weaved my way southwest before eventually linking up with the main
Seminyak strip in time for an afternoon refresher and a look through the photos
of my tour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Do not be
afraid of a few days in the saddle folks. In the right hands it can be a very
wonderful thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-86784104428976008052014-02-01T11:06:00.002+07:002014-02-01T11:07:31.814+07:00Shop Till You Drop<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Consumerism continues to annex
modern life<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The
amount of time that I find myself spending in the city’s retail palaces has
tailed off enormously in recent years, as I'm of the opinion that, in the words
of the old joke, once you've seen one shopping plaza, you've seen a mall. New
shopping plazas continue to mushroom all over Jakarta however and most recently
I was passing the enormous new Kota Kasablanka mall and popped in, lured by the
promise of a branch of Ace Hardware. Yet another mall to burn time in. The
interior was absolutely huge, more like an air terminal than a shopping mall.
Most unsettlingly though, I stumbled across a branch of Top Man/Top Shop, and as
a Brit I find it slightly disconcerting to see shops such as these and
Debenhams, rather proletarian UK stores to be frank, being scrubbed up and
repackaged for the Indonesian petty bourgeoisie.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMlfP5_H-5LtbVEz6iP4mLrYs_f_jphcr7ZesEdG4QqyNpDGBoCkbuncgdnPEa5NI4gy08S3ccOuBtn5Bc74J1MRZoUL9_tQ9rc2ADJ5urKUpUvN29eXwRWIXfYM7noM84VcYhw/s1600/8_mal_plaza_senayan+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMlfP5_H-5LtbVEz6iP4mLrYs_f_jphcr7ZesEdG4QqyNpDGBoCkbuncgdnPEa5NI4gy08S3ccOuBtn5Bc74J1MRZoUL9_tQ9rc2ADJ5urKUpUvN29eXwRWIXfYM7noM84VcYhw/s1600/8_mal_plaza_senayan+(1).jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Hanging
out at shopping malls is a favourite activity in Jakarta, although this seems
like something of a self-fulfilling prophecy to me. If there's nothing but
malls in the city then, unsurprisingly, people will go to malls. In this
respect, Indonesia once again exemplifies all of the worst elements of late
capitalism, its capital city being woefully bereft of parks, libraries,
theatres or public sports facilities and instead being crammed with temples of
vapid materialism, circuses and bread for the iPhone generation that denote
something of a land-use imbalance in town. Bright, shining sterile fantasy
worlds unencumbered by the diesel fumes, guys with guitars, potholes and
dried-on-chilli-sauce stains that prevail outside. An odourless nirvana of
boutiques, food courts, computer motherboards and security guards in ill-fitting
uniforms ready to pounce if they see a single bead of perspiration breaking out
on your forehead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Yes,
Jakartans love their shopping malls and those escalators and food courts have
seemingly won the battle for the twenty-first century Indonesian soul. Behind
all of the Grand Guignol, 120dB fun fashion shows in the plaza lobbies though, the
city’s malls are clearly papering over the cracks of a serious infrastructure
deficit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">A
thousand years hence perhaps, future archaeologist and anthropologists will unearth
Jakarta's great plazas along with petrified Starbucks beakers and mobile-phone
casings and pontificate on what strange religion their ancestors practised in
these places. And indeed, more than just temples of consumption, malls such as
Cilandak Town Square promote a new kind of lifestyle hedonism completely
divorced from the utilitarian weekly supermarket shop. Just hanging out in
these places is where it’s at.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
result of this new plaza-centric social paradigm also seems to be affecting the
general population’s holiday time. Modern life negatively impacting people's
explorations of the countryside around them can be seen in a number of
developed countries as well. This is particularly distressing, given that the
potentially species threatening problems that humanity faces over the next half
century or so are rooted primarily in the natural systems that support us. Any
increasing alienation from these systems, specifically people spending their
existences trudging around shopping plazas or sitting isolated in their bedrooms
behind computer terminals, is not really going to catalyse any quest for
solutions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P9sTY5MOU6azkbrIL_-uZ8a4gRFw79CNUBf1OErc2vL9rrrXvComT34DW9hx-ZhJXRGv9Zw0VSp8eZ8C9orMu66ygdnqXvOZ0xeaUOnlvM4968rQ0Fxw3C3UYD3fC2_eyqJM2g/s1600/shopping-in-jakarta-indonesia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P9sTY5MOU6azkbrIL_-uZ8a4gRFw79CNUBf1OErc2vL9rrrXvComT34DW9hx-ZhJXRGv9Zw0VSp8eZ8C9orMu66ygdnqXvOZ0xeaUOnlvM4968rQ0Fxw3C3UYD3fC2_eyqJM2g/s1600/shopping-in-jakarta-indonesia.jpg" height="219" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">In
this context, plaza life seems to impact Jakartans awareness of the beautiful
West Java countryside that lies outside their stinking city, and it achieves
this in two main ways. Firstly, the number of people heading out of town to
relatively local beaches such as Carita and Pelabuhan Ratu is pretty small
these days. Now admittedly the road to Pelabuhan Ratu can get a little jammed,
however Carita is relatively straightforward to reach, with a good two thirds
of the journey lying along a speedy toll road. During a recent trip to Carita I
came across a number of pretty rundown hotels, including one fantastic
abandoned effort which was presumably quite extravagant in its day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">It
seems that the number of Jakartans heading out of town in order to explore
their local landscapes has tailed off over the last decade, as people spend an
increasing amount of time in those retail pleasure palaces, tapping away on
their laptops. Admittedly, the advent of cheap flights to Bali is also no doubt
playing a part in this phenomenon; however the average Bali holiday
increasingly seems to feature plenty of, yes you guessed it, shopping, in familiar
urbanised environments recreated in a non-urban setting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And
this brings us on to the second phenomenon impacting local city slickers’
awareness of the countryside, namely resorts and hotels increasingly resembling
the classic plaza environment. I recently had the pleasure of staying in one of
the huge holiday-villa complexes up in Puncak. It was called Kota Bunga (Flower
City) and upon arriving I took a stroll in order to familiarise myself with the
Flower City experience first hand, in all of its prefabricated, garish
hideousness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
complex covered a huge area and was arranged into neat suburban cul-de-sacs
that seemingly contained the exact replicas of the Jakarta pied-à-terres lived
in by the families who come to stay here. The main difference were the vibrant
hues of the houses' exteriors and the postmodern mishmash of cutesy
architectural designs that proliferated like a Walt Disney acid trip. The
families themselves seemed to contain two Nintendo-brained children cramming
ice cream and noodles into their wide-bore gullets, and all were born by the
regulation people carrier, or perhaps a big Mercedes for the richer clans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Insulting
stereotypes aside however, it was clear that any local expression of West
Javanese culture had been tastefully airbrushed out of this theme park in
search of the theme. Admittedly there was an area in the complex called Kampung
Budaya (Cultural Village), although its cultural reach didn't seem to extend
beyond an overpriced branch of KFC and a swimming pool full urinating kids.
There was also a postmodern apocalypse of ersatz Greek friezes, old English
lamp standards and mock European architecture, all clashing in the same
tasteless hyperreal style of your local shopping mall, all elements stripped of
their original meanings and transplanted into the toy-town fantasy. Pride of
place went to a scale mockup of Mount Rushmore that loomed perplexingly 30m
high over the complex lake. The chiselled faces of the four US presidents
surveyed the scene before them sternly as if about to pass judgement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Well,
not my scene really, and those Jakarta malls should be housing way more hiking-boot
shops in my opinion. I need a holiday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-21638706201533887952014-01-28T11:29:00.001+07:002014-01-28T11:29:11.379+07:00Absolute Zeroes<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">The Indonesian currency is about to go on a crash
diet<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">If you live in
Indonesia, then I'm sure you've had the following experience. You delve
confidently into your wallet, snap out a nice, crisp note, and for a split
second you're not sure whether you're clutching Rp. 10,000 or Rp. 100,000 in
your perspiring mitt. Part of the reason for your discombobulation derives from
the fact that Bank Indonesia, in its infinite wisdom, elected to print both
notes in a similar shade of red ink. The colour issue is undoubtedly compounded
though by the number of zeroes that one has to get into the old optical
crosshairs when dealing with Indonesian currency.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiZ7kXd-F028or8GpKYfkDaeKpeZJAqhSM0MzBa0y94_qs389wcm3XiNpOcImcvdPKx1OssUhjwtSKu4Gg-Foh80mZBkYdntknmChL72ZL2O-w_3OQFaMwuRYXGbXZd9o2ohUVA/s1600/Rupiah2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiZ7kXd-F028or8GpKYfkDaeKpeZJAqhSM0MzBa0y94_qs389wcm3XiNpOcImcvdPKx1OssUhjwtSKu4Gg-Foh80mZBkYdntknmChL72ZL2O-w_3OQFaMwuRYXGbXZd9o2ohUVA/s1600/Rupiah2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Well,
annoyances such as this could soon become a thing of the past, as plans for a
rupiah redenomination are slowly gathering momentum in the country's corridors
of power. Redenomination (and, crucially, not revaluation) of a currency
involves changing the numbers printed on notes and coins, but not their value,
in order to simplify things. In terms of the Indonesian rupiah, such a process
would naturally involve the lopping off of a few zeroes. Now admittedly this
raises the danger that in the country’s <i>kampungs </i>and boondocks, a potentially
explosive perception may emerge that by substituting a Rp. 10,000 note for a
Rp. 10 note, one has lost Rp. 990. This is apparently why the planned
redenomination changeover will take a full six years to “socialise” and implement.
In comparison, it took Europe's economies under a year to ditch their local
currencies in favour of the then-proud euro. As ever though, the pace of change
in the good old Republic of I remains glacial. Seeing as the redenomination of
the rupiah will affect legal contracts between banks, their clients and
overseas institutions though, with all of the accompanying IT headaches that go
along with this process, maybe it’s as well to take things slowly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">The tentative
plan is to multiply the nominal value of the rupiah by a factor of 1000, thereby
dropping three zeroes from those bothersome bills. In South-East Asia, only the
Vietnamese dong currently has a higher dollar exchange rate than the Indonesian
rupiah does, and it is hoped that the move to redenominate the national
currency will give the rupiah a bit of an image boost in the eyes of a world that
looks somewhat suspiciously on currencies that sport so many digits. Endless zeroes
tend to evoke images of hyperinflation and people pushing bundles of notes
around in trolleys in Weimar Germany during the 1920s. More recently, in Robert
Mugabe's economically imploding Zimbabwe, the monthly inflation rate reached an
eye-watering 6.5 sextillion percent at one point. Obviously Indonesia isn't
going through such a meltdown, however many of the fiscal inflows into the
country through capital markets are so often short term only, as there is a
perception that the rupiah is "cheap".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4X-ok4KR2UaN0KWfIAt000tY-UvQS1tMl5bJ4XuaDKLMScltsCq4Hx6GgsjlOMTbGC2vyIiLoNTvne22Xm2nj3vmSD0yM92542pVsok3Yu2IAIklnw0tuwto5KvrtuWOkDJDF6w/s1600/20p7lfo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4X-ok4KR2UaN0KWfIAt000tY-UvQS1tMl5bJ4XuaDKLMScltsCq4Hx6GgsjlOMTbGC2vyIiLoNTvne22Xm2nj3vmSD0yM92542pVsok3Yu2IAIklnw0tuwto5KvrtuWOkDJDF6w/s1600/20p7lfo.jpg" height="230" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Indonesia is
currently basking in the warmth of economic good times though (well, some of
its citizens are) and inflation is well under control, which should help the
process to run smoothly, ensuring that the redenomination failures of countries
such as Russia and Brazil, whose economies were in pretty parlous conditions
when they attempted to renumber their currencies, are avoided. A strong legal
framework will be necessary though and the Indonesian Parliament, a body not
particularly celebrated for its speedy deliberations of bills of national
importance, will hopefully get around to the great redenomination debate this
year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">We are all
instant millionaires in this country of course and this status could be about
to be confined to the dustbin of history, however there will be positives to
enjoy in the redenomination of that old rascal the rupiah. Salaries are paid in
millions here and government budgets clock in at millions and even trillions of
rupiah. Lopping a few zeroes off the currency will ease accountancy headaches
and, as an added bonus, the public should be able to gain a better mental
picture of how much cash various politicians and regional leaders are pilfering
from public coffers, as the endless parade of corruption cases continues its
sorry march through the nation's courts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOhzfJ6GPRTqcj9d79aobo6b61gPTS2hHoJcTLxEflkstHh_pdUzbpk4b02lRClkwDEkcPkf3Kvpl1sMWUSCMfMsgKDpAkwX8VSxrDBeWIy1GRnhaLs6QGz_G9tVANdOjvwSQ4g/s1600/rupiah-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOhzfJ6GPRTqcj9d79aobo6b61gPTS2hHoJcTLxEflkstHh_pdUzbpk4b02lRClkwDEkcPkf3Kvpl1sMWUSCMfMsgKDpAkwX8VSxrDBeWIy1GRnhaLs6QGz_G9tVANdOjvwSQ4g/s1600/rupiah-1.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Hopefully, the
redenomination of the rupiah won't lead to any major riots and the plan is to implement
a transition period which will see both old and new denominations in
circulation simultaneously, although presumably this could lead to some
short-term confusion. Maybe in the longer term though, a new era in economic
and political reform will be ushered in by this measure. At the very least,
redenomination should improve the currency’s purchasing power in world markets
and strengthen the rupiah in the foreign-exchange market.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Numbers rule
our lives though, and there are no bigger integers that we have to deal with
than those pertaining to large amounts of money. Indonesia scores particularly
highly here and, alas, humans are psychologically ill-equipped to deal with large
numbers, or so the scientists and psychologists tell us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">People can
rationalise numbers such as three or 50 through the use of visual mental models.
We've all seen three glasses of beer side by side, or 50 peanuts in a bowl, for
example. When we get into the thousands, millions and billions however, we
flounder, and the higher we count, the harder it becomes to conceptualise
numbers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Visualising the
planet's seven billion humans, or, more pertinently to this feature, the US
national debt of USD 16 trillion stacked up in USD 100 bills, is simply not
doable by the human mind, which perhaps helps you if you're trying to rip off
the public budget by billions of rupiah. The brain crashes like a creaking
operating system when one tries to get one's head around the large figures on
the front pages of the papers, and the reader thus ends up turning to the
sports section for a little light relief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">More positively
though, an appreciation of the vertiginous heights of numerical value may instill
just a little humility in humankind and its self-important concerns. There are
around 400 billion stars in our galaxy and around 100 billion galaxies in the
known universe. Rather puts my broken toilet in perspective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">Consider this
though. We have come up with names for some stupendously large numbers. A
googol is one such inconceivably huge quantity, and is defined as ten to the
power of 100, i.e. a one with 100 zeroes after it. And if you think that that's
a lot of glasses of beer to get through, then consider a googolplex. A
googolplex is ten to the power of a googol, i.e., a one followed by 10 to the
power of 100 zeroes. In fact, you'd need to get your hands on a piece of paper
larger than the entire universe just to write out this colossal number in full.
Food for thought the next time you find yourself pulling your hair out in front
of an ATM screen. Just as an aside, Larry Page and Sergey Brin named their
famous search engine after these lofty numbers, and indeed the company's
headquarters is affectionately known as the Google Plex. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-66250186874843591742014-01-28T11:24:00.001+07:002014-01-28T11:24:16.782+07:00The Booze Headlines<div class="MsoNormal">
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><b><span lang="EN-US">Indonesia</span></b></st1:country-region></st1:place><b><span lang="EN-US"> has an increasingly ambivalent relationship with the demon drink<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Alcoholic
beverages have been a part of human culture for an awfully long time, and its
even now been shown that natural selection has actually equipped most humans
with an alcohol processing gene during the very recent evolution of our
species. A thought-provoking discovery for sure and I certainly hope that one
too many gin and tonics won’t see me picking up a posthumous Darwin Award.
Scourge of society or valuable social lubricant, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region></st1:place>, as a nominally Islamic
and yet ostensibly pluralistic and secular nation, has a somewhat ambivalent
attitude to the consumption of alcohol. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Most
recently, the New Order-era, Islamic-leaning United Development Party (PPP)
proposed a nationwide ban on the sale of alcohol, which would effectively turn
the country into a Saudi-esque dry zone and no doubt see Bintang and Anker
turning to isotonic drinks in order to survive. Booze in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region> is
already heavily regulated and taxed in fact, the result being that this
time-honoured social lubricant is considerably more expensive here than it is
in neighbouring countries. A total ban would be something else altogether
though and prison sentences of ten years have been proposed for diehard splash
heads who manage to brew up an illegal still of optic-nerve tingling moonshine
in their <i>bak mandi</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Clearly
religious compulsion is the fundamental motive behind the PPP bill, although
Arwani Thomafi, the PPP secretary down at the House of Representatives, has
also claimed that the consumption of alcohol offered no significant
contribution to the state budget. Anyone who’s staggered their way along Jl.
Kemang Raya on a Friday night or <st1:place w:st="on">Bali</st1:place>’s Jl.
Legian on pretty much any night of the week may wish to take issue with this
rather credulity stretching claim. And indeed the government’s
steep-to-perpendicular 150 per cent excise tax on imported booze has this year
managed to generate around Rp. 1.5 trillion in import duties from the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">port</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Tanjung Priok</st1:placename></st1:place> alone. In any event, the
fact that a much-loved activity doesn’t generate much profit for the government
is a rather draconian argument for depriving people of said pastime. I mean,
premarital sex between consenting adults also adds little to state coffers and
nobody’s proposing…erm…no scratch that actually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Let’s be
realistic here though. This bill hasn’t got a highball’s chance in hell of
being passed, even if bibulous <i>bule</i>
tourists were to be exempt from such anti-<i>vino</i>
legislation. Indeed, over the past few years, a real drinking culture has
developed in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>
as the economy has boomed and a whole new generation of post-New Order kids are
assimilated into an ever more globalised culture of aspirational hedonism
saturated in Tweets, techno and Tia Maria. From high-end wine bars, to cheap
boozers flogging lethal cocktails that are seemingly two parts Red Bull to one
part low-grade hooch with a splash of Pertamax Plus thrown in for good measure,
to 24-hour minimarts filled with fridges of beer and sporting their own
alfresco seating areas, the capital has gone Friday-night, binge-drinking
crazy. Evenings of acoustic guitar sing-alongs and a few refreshing Teh Botols
now seem to be from a more innocent age as Batavia’s boulevards become
increasingly sophisticated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLaIGExMETustEA-moGTW-1fE4s5q1n9qpRT08MHLRpIAM_xP5g7t_etHLuQuLwFQiEmVeyUJ58Y_YobDgMO03Cmc7u3A7TtNB6f0zRbso1uHRrZnDKUA7xc1hhnw9D7Lu_MGzw/s1600/INDONESIA_-_alcol_bevande_bando.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLaIGExMETustEA-moGTW-1fE4s5q1n9qpRT08MHLRpIAM_xP5g7t_etHLuQuLwFQiEmVeyUJ58Y_YobDgMO03Cmc7u3A7TtNB6f0zRbso1uHRrZnDKUA7xc1hhnw9D7Lu_MGzw/s1600/INDONESIA_-_alcol_bevande_bando.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">All of this
hardcore drinking has alas had some sadly all-too-predictable consequences. To
take but a handful of recent examples, teenage model Olivia Dewi recently died
after a drunken car crash, 17-year-old Raafi Aga Winasya Benjamin was stabbed
to death in a drunken brawl while partying and, most notoriously of all,
Afriani Susanti was sentenced to 15 years behind bars after mowing down nine
pedestrians with her car, the result of a night of hard partying. Clearly road
safety needs to be looked at in a country unused to such a high degree of
Dionysian dipsomania, and as Sigmund Freud noted vis-à-viz violence, the
conscience is soluble in alcohol.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Most of
these Jakarta booze hounds are no doubt having the times of their lives,
although those life-threatening, Saturday-morning hangovers are possibly
providing a whole new world of Panadol- and vomit-punctuated adventure that may
be giving many new drinkers pause for thought. Short of deliberately imposing a
Draconian total booze ban though and opting out of the trappings of boom-time
economic good times that Indonesia alone in the world seems to be enjoying at
the moment, it’s hard to know what despairing parents (who themselves can probably
be found down at the city’s chic wine bars) can do. <i>Autre temps autre moeurs</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In stark
contrast to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>’s
hedonistic, pilsner-fuelled zeitgeist however, a more ascetic climate of
abstinence has descended upon other parts of the Indonesian Archipelago. An
alcohol ban is most definitely not on the cards if imposed by central
government, however Sharia-law-type rules and regulations seem to be entering
people’s lives via the back door in this era of regional autonomy, even in <st1:city w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:city>’s surrounding neighbour of <st1:place w:st="on">West
Java</st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJJhj9-g0CncDU8DD5uqNa-zIewCf6A5TyI_B1RGckfBIa7wVvo2-NmK9Qdwx17EQU6przxUtK6HdAzVyhDnX-YD0FhdIVTaSspCpnC5Z1PZd3JWVhcGaegsirEwZAwBy4sqn6g/s1600/_44156368_bottlesap416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJJhj9-g0CncDU8DD5uqNa-zIewCf6A5TyI_B1RGckfBIa7wVvo2-NmK9Qdwx17EQU6przxUtK6HdAzVyhDnX-YD0FhdIVTaSspCpnC5Z1PZd3JWVhcGaegsirEwZAwBy4sqn6g/s1600/_44156368_bottlesap416.jpg" height="230" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Local
bylaws in places such as Tangerang, Indramayu and Tasikmalaya have seen shelves
cleared of falling-down water in recent years, drawing criticism from some
quarters that such regulations are both unconstitutional and violate regional-autonomy
laws. An amazing 9000 new regional bylaws were issued across <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region></st1:place> between 2000 and 2011,
many relating to alcohol, however opportunistic ministers seem unwilling to
revoke any of them. So while <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>
is becoming increasingly one eyed, large swathes of the rest of the country are
now unable to blow the froth off a few foaming glasses of Bintang. It’s
beginning to look like there’s one law for the rich elite in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city> and another for <i>kampungan-</i>poor<i> </i>provincial
types. What a surprise to find that it should ultimately boil down to this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So what are
we to make of all this? Well people need to unwind for sure, but as our ritual
of social integration of choice, putting one’s forebrain to sleep with
ethyl-alcohol while sitting in a dull, smoky pub perhaps isn’t that impressive
when compared with the extravagant exploits of human societies throughout
history. Moreover, when the great Prophet (peace be upon him) decreed that drinking
was to be off limits, it was a decision originally made, like so much inherited
and inflexible religious morality, with regard to quite utilitarian concerns
and an appraisal of the negative effects of alcohol upon society as a whole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And the
positives? Well one of the great things about the inhabitants of this country
is that they really don’t seem to need fermented grain in order to lower social
barriers, crack the shells of formality and have a good time in the company of
complete strangers. However, should someone require a little libation in order
to liberate their stiff-arsed egos from the stultifying shackles of everyday
inhibition, then surely adults can make such decisions for themselves?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-30506648918523068952014-01-28T11:20:00.000+07:002014-01-28T11:20:11.414+07:00Top of the Pops<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">First
there was J-pop, then came K-pop, and now I-pop stands poised to win over the
world's teenyboppers. </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The
attention of the whole world has been focused on Asian pop music of late in the
wake of the "Gangnam Style" ear worm, a Korean pop-cultural
phenomenon that has conquered the entire planet, notching up a record 861
million YouTube hits in the process. Even UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon has
described the unprecedented global smash as a, "force for world peace,”
which I think might be gilding the lily just slightly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">PSY's Solar
System conquering hit, which parodies the lavish lifestyles of Seoul's Gangnam
district, will probably prove to be a one-hit wonder, however Asian pop music
itself has a long and illustrious past behind it, and now I-pop (Indonesian
pop) is bidding to join J-pop (Japanese pop) and K-pop (Korean pop) on heavy
radio rotation around the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Now, it
should be stressed at the outset that if you're not a teenage female of the
species then you may well rather, like myself, prefer to saw your own legs off
with the sharp edge of a copy of <i>Gadis </i>magazine to actually listening to
most of this stuff, however there is no doubt that the star of Asian pop is rising
at the moment and that the music represents a social phenomenon most definitely
worth remarking on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">J-pop was
the first Asian popular music to be truly in and of itself, and entered the
musical mainstream during the 1990s, although its history dates back to the
1970s and Japanese synth-pop bands such as Yellow Magic Orchestra and Southern
All Stars. Currently, one of the biggest (in every sense of the word) J-pop
groups is AKB 48, who are one of the highest earning musical acts in the world
with record sales in 2011 reaching a whopping US$200 million in Japan alone
(although the group’s share of this had to be split among its Guinness World
Record-breaking 91 members!).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The huge
group is divided into three subgroups, Team A, Team K and Team B and also
includes a number of aspiring members known as <i>kenkyusei</i> (trainees).
It's perhaps not coincidental that this hit-making behemoth of a group appears
to structure itself like some bobby-socks wearing multinational corporation,
and as the band's profits reach for the stratosphere, no doubt the accountants
are rubbing their hands together gleefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And so
over to <st1:city w:st="on">I-pop</st1:city>, <st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region>'s
answer to the super-slick, Samsung and Sony powered smashes of the <st1:place w:st="on">Far East</st1:place>. I-pop's profile is also on the rise at the
moment and even <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s
Tourism Minister, Mari Elka Pangestu, is currently urging the country's pop
musicians to try and emulate the success of their Japanese and Korean brethren.
Indeed, <st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region>'s Tourism
Ministry recently sent a party of pop musicians over to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Korea</st1:place></st1:country-region> to
study the K-pop phenomenon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Wishful
thinking? Perhaps, however it has to be said that Indonesia's music industry
now dominates its own domestic market at least, despite being blighted by
copyright piracy, and in 2010, Indonesia's creative economy contributed some
Rp. 468 trillion (US$ 48.6 billion) to the economy, growing by 6 per cent in
the process and absorbing some 7.9 per cent of the country's workforce.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I-pop (or
Indo pop) acts range from long-time stalwarts such as Peterpan (now Noah),
Sheila on 7 and d'Masiv, to new teeny-bop sensations such as Cherry Belle and
Princess (both girl bands) and ZooM and HITZ (boy bands, if you can tell the
difference). And, naturally, social media such as Facebook feature plenty of I-pop
(as well as anti-I-pop!) groups.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">J-pop and
K-pop influences abound in the protean world of I-pop, it has to be said. Local
bands such as J Rocks, Geisha, and Daisha, as their names suggest, remain in a thrall
to their more illustrious, hair-gel abusing peers across the oceans of the
Orient, and Indonesia even has its own answer to AKB 48: JKT 48.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuCObHUcDb9H38BAz1QUpqdPigWSb28QqVdgoYZNAh8M0yYm5UJRzpuw9nQ3r-XInwOJ98DoMwh12myxZQlVTBy8VoitnENCmVM6FWAl4jdT1MTcrvDGX1J9BIQq6TMXiexDfcA/s1600/jkt-48-hd-wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuCObHUcDb9H38BAz1QUpqdPigWSb28QqVdgoYZNAh8M0yYm5UJRzpuw9nQ3r-XInwOJ98DoMwh12myxZQlVTBy8VoitnENCmVM6FWAl4jdT1MTcrvDGX1J9BIQq6TMXiexDfcA/s1600/jkt-48-hd-wallpaper.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This
sister group was formed just over a year ago and, according to producer Yasushi
Akimoto, can become, "A bridge between <st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region>
and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Japan</st1:country-region></st1:place>."
Dewy-eyed, feel-good, Oprah-esque platitudes aside though, a primary motivation
behind many of these new Indonesian pop stars is surely the economic
exploitation of teenagers for fun and profit. JKT 48, for example, have already
notched up advertisements for Pocari Sweat, Sharp, Rakuten, Laurier, Yamaha,
Biore and Pocky, as both the group's star and stock rise simultaneously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">I-pop is
not completely derivative of its more established Japanese and Korean cousins
however, and local flavours, sentiments and styles are increasingly featuring
in the music as it develops its own national identity. I-pop is also extending
its reach beyond <st1:country-region w:st="on">Indonesia</st1:country-region>'s
borders to <st1:country-region w:st="on">Malaysia</st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region w:st="on">Singapore</st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Brunei</st1:place></st1:country-region>, primarily due to common
elements of language and culture of course, however they really seem to love
the stuff over there. Indeed, Indonesian pop music has made such a splash over
in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Malaysia</st1:place></st1:country-region>
that back in 2008, the Malaysian music industry demanded restrictions on
Indonesian pop songs broadcast by Malaysian radio stations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">As in
demand as I-pop has become in Malaysia however, there is as yet little sign of
the obsessive, compulsive behaviour of a certain section of K-pop fans being
replicated over here. Specifically we’re here talking about fans who engage in
stalking and invasions of artists’ privacy, and indeed there are even taxi
services in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Korea</st1:place></st1:country-region>
that cater specifically to fans looking to follow their idols around town.
Obsessive K-pop fans have also actually been known to install GPS trackers
under their heroes' cars in rather ingeniously James Bond-style acts of
obsessive hero worship. Speaking personally though, I'd perhaps be more
inclined to engage in anti-fan forms of stalking, such as that perpetrated by
the strange woman who gave Yunho, a member of K-pop band TVXQ, a drink laced
with superglue before turning herself in to the police. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So
is I-pop poised to pounce and conquer <st1:place w:st="on">Asia</st1:place>,
and indeed the world beyond? Well, so long as the hair gel keeps oozing and the
money keeps flowing, then I’ve every confidence in the genre storming the
post-modern ramparts of cultural banality before next Christmas. Stay sexy pop
pickers.</span>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-90836836588555839822011-04-20T13:35:00.000+07:002011-04-20T13:35:56.189+07:00Car Jamming<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Last weekend afforded me the opportunity to undertake another of my Indonesian politician style comparative study tours. AirAsia once again supplied me with a great value flight and some simply appalling in-flight coffee, as I hopped over the briny to Kuala Lumpur in order to take in this year's Malaysian Grand Prix. My trip to last year’s Singapore Grand Prix gave me a chance to compare the island state's sweeping boulevards and cyber-conformist hygiene with Jakarta’s pungently aromatic demographic implosion, and I was hoping that KL would offer up some similarly enlightening contrasts.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">KL has been described to me as being midway between Jakarta and Singapore, although the fact that both Malaysia and Singapore host Grands Prix, whilst Jakarta doesn't, perhaps tells you all that you need to know about the three cities' relative urban credentials. Indonesia's largest sporting event is the Commonwealth Masters Tennis tournament, which is held in Bali every year. This does indeed attract a few big names but it certainly isn't a big international event, although certain rogue tax officials have been so keen to attend in the past that they've been known to spring themselves from jail and don ludicrous Beatles wigs as a disguise.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOk3vhoUpJzvpNqOyA-aSQc4l1oparNkOpCoUT-16lUQcI9m1cyWg4d7hj-6FlObr6t9fOeJ5Bsk_eGqRva4MeC2Rn3FI-cMNZbOzgz6bmbKCJH-rbvATMYLZ-Qzh7-tgrf7-jQ/s1600/207565_10150221715385815_507525814_8549525_4450832_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOk3vhoUpJzvpNqOyA-aSQc4l1oparNkOpCoUT-16lUQcI9m1cyWg4d7hj-6FlObr6t9fOeJ5Bsk_eGqRva4MeC2Rn3FI-cMNZbOzgz6bmbKCJH-rbvATMYLZ-Qzh7-tgrf7-jQ/s320/207565_10150221715385815_507525814_8549525_4450832_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">In any case, down at the AirAsia terminal of Kuala Lumpur International Airport, everything was a Formula 1 frenzy, presumably because AirAsia supremo and Malaysian mogul extraordinaire, Tony Fernandes, now owns his very own Formula 1 team (in fact, he's revived the iconic Lotus brand). An expensive hobby perhaps, but presumably Mr F. isn't short of a few ringgit. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Kuala Lumpur</span></st1:city><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">'s airport is roughly twice as far from the centre of town as <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:place></st1:city>'s Sukarno-Hatta is, however it lies a mere ten minute bus ride away from the Sepang Circuit. And so I soon found myself sitting on a lush, green hillside, necking Tiger beer and watching all of the Saturday qualifying action. Sepang is a great place in fact and affords spectators some simply superb views of all those high-speed dogfights.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8PJZDtcsgU6EXbIRH_1ylJxSIA6DUVpprZy5O0dGBajCdVfRnKA3qitIslSr-7crU-CV8kRHRFU847KJTEyFhskatoNyrE5yT0B5wB10Ulge8QFbp_95WD8zL6dVoYZi_IjMBNg/s1600/208110_10150221716415815_507525814_8549557_4545566_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8PJZDtcsgU6EXbIRH_1ylJxSIA6DUVpprZy5O0dGBajCdVfRnKA3qitIslSr-7crU-CV8kRHRFU847KJTEyFhskatoNyrE5yT0B5wB10Ulge8QFbp_95WD8zL6dVoYZi_IjMBNg/s320/208110_10150221716415815_507525814_8549557_4545566_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">After qualification was over, I had a stroll around the overpriced merchandise stalls (although there was a 50% discount on Michael Schumacher T-shirts -ha ha and furthermore, ha). I then headed into KL Central to hook up with a couple of my F1 loving chums who had also made the hop over from the Big Durian for the race, and we all headed out for a little Saturday night fever.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The centre of KL is perhaps closer in essence to Singapore than it is to Jakarta, and a few things stand out immediately to any visiting long-term Batavia warriors. Firstly, the traffic doesn't seem to be nearly as bad as the purgatorial gridlock that we all know and love. The lack of motorcycles in particular makes for a pleasant change. The second thing that struck me as we walked around KL is perhaps not entirely unrelated to the first. While Jakarta engages in endless debates about the city's actual and fantasized Gordian transportation knot of cars, busways, monorails, new flyovers and even bicycle lanes, the most fundamental mode of human transportation, namely Shanks's pony (or getting up of one's rear end and walking), has been sadly neglected.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6SN3EstPniz_BKVEEvs-CKxuwqCUP_T5QLRRT_-2314kn-H5ZdhsjJhJDKRplKQ0-7ikCvBhS655cQvHfiRdjQuZBds9yLrj8azae23MUr4QMbuJyZNvQjAdrkXYL5NveZPE_Q/s1600/218182_10150221715885815_507525814_8549541_4672321_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6SN3EstPniz_BKVEEvs-CKxuwqCUP_T5QLRRT_-2314kn-H5ZdhsjJhJDKRplKQ0-7ikCvBhS655cQvHfiRdjQuZBds9yLrj8azae23MUr4QMbuJyZNvQjAdrkXYL5NveZPE_Q/s320/218182_10150221715885815_507525814_8549541_4672321_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Normal" developed urban environments usually feature those amazing technological innovations known as pavements and, as a knock-on effect, there are bustling streets filled with shops and the like. Jakarta's fancy shops are all safely buried within the closeted, safe, technocratic womb of the shopping mall, whilst outside a post-apocalyptic urban assault course of crumbling concrete, 30-year-old buses, raw sewage and underclass serfs serves to deter any integrated urban renaissance (although a few brave venues have now opted to try a more alfresco approach to city life). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hocdgfr7cdWBCUDLspOZPjqdMyWoU_gnv2bFvPNjp-znmPzOfWrBPCqGnNAVaAld5NFLsZm0b4dYNu3snUghtWlbtGqvr9mmvg03AeTeHRlY_UtmU4IzOH30lDKmk2eLJ-mvdw/s1600/217551_10150221716365815_507525814_8549555_3618625_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hocdgfr7cdWBCUDLspOZPjqdMyWoU_gnv2bFvPNjp-znmPzOfWrBPCqGnNAVaAld5NFLsZm0b4dYNu3snUghtWlbtGqvr9mmvg03AeTeHRlY_UtmU4IzOH30lDKmk2eLJ-mvdw/s320/217551_10150221716365815_507525814_8549555_3618625_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Coincidentally enough, I have just read that 500 trillion rupiah has been earmarked by the government for infrastructure development across the country. I reckon though that by the time a multitude of greedy politicos has dipped its avaricious mitts into the honeypot, there’ll be just about enough dough remaining for a couple of keep left signs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Meanwhile, back in KL, Sunday came around and we all headed back to Sepang for a highly enjoyable race that actually featured a fair amount of overtaking. Wonders will never cease. The next day, it was time to the inevitable lemming like tourist traipse around <st1:placename w:st="on">Kuala Lumpur</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Tower</st1:placetype> and the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Petronas</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Twin</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Towers</st1:placetype></st1:place>. As iconic as the Twin Towers have now become, they are basically just two large slabs of steel and concrete. Whatever happened to architectural creativity in our modern world? The entire thrust of modern architectural hubris seems to be to raise your non-idea of a building 15 storeys higher than the neighbouring country's non-idea of a building.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17j8nGOT89FQcc-iJRkCyMqNWRACC1c3ZfOAMOkt2YdfZmhCTgH-0fDK3VOYJY9HEuZlZvvISCIS7AmtlkVme2bp5eonPF-L__80ZOVMC23ITapdS_5i3B4q3AgoRWYZb9Tlfdw/s1600/205107_10150221715310815_507525814_8549523_105523_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17j8nGOT89FQcc-iJRkCyMqNWRACC1c3ZfOAMOkt2YdfZmhCTgH-0fDK3VOYJY9HEuZlZvvISCIS7AmtlkVme2bp5eonPF-L__80ZOVMC23ITapdS_5i3B4q3AgoRWYZb9Tlfdw/s320/205107_10150221715310815_507525814_8549523_105523_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Personally, I'd like to see Indonesia's putative and scandalously extravagant new parliamentary office building being constructed as a Gothic pastiche and filled with pointed arches and flying buttresses. Such a design would more fittingly reflect the mediaeval, Machiavellian mindset of those who will be ensconced inside it, enjoying a grease-down and a shiatsu whilst they scan the year's budget allocations to see what can be craftily diverted into their Citibank accounts. Gothic Jakarta, now that really would be infrastructure to be proud of.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-88235294082820894632011-04-12T20:10:00.001+07:002011-04-12T20:13:47.761+07:00Go Wild in the Country<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Last weekend, it was time for your intrepid hero to make another foray into Indonesia's bucolic boondocks with my obsessive-compulsive mountain climbing chum, Mr. Dan, and a few other curious takers fooled into parting with their hard earned cash by the slick graphics of Mr. Dan's Gunung Bagging website. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Mr. Dan, in the flesh, has been known to exude the authority of a seasoned and knowledgeable hiker. On one occasion however, whilst leading a small group of keen and crisply booted, fresh-faced walkers on an early start through the Highlands of Bandung, Mr. Dan had felt a little worse for wear after a taxing night scaling Gunung Bintang and had ended up projectile chundering onto the road in front of his hiking disciples just before the off. This may have taken some of the lustre off the good Mr. Dan’s professional standing in the fiercely competitive world of amateur hiking, however it will take more than a mound of early-morning ale spew to put me off, and I soon found myself taking in the fresh air and outboard motor petrol fumes with Mr. Dan and the gang as our speedboat skimmed its way from Carita Beach on Java's west coast to the island of Panaintan, which sits next to the Ujung Kulon national park on Java southwestern tip.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I do like to indulge in the occasional return to nature in order to remind myself of my own mortality. Such near terminally exhausting trips are always memorable and interesting, although 'fun' perhaps wouldn't be the right adjective to use. Alas though, I can't accompany that irrepressible bounder of adventure Mr. Dan quite as often as I’d like to, as sitting on my fat arse watching DVDs and eating chocolate makes a lot of pressing demands on my time you understand.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Panaitan is the largest island in the Sunda Strait and is uninhabited by humans, save for a skeleton staff of caretakers. There's plenty of native fauna to be seen here however, including populations of deer, monkeys, pythons, monitor lizards, eagles, crabs, colourful fish, buffalo and even, apparently, crocodiles. I was slightly uneasy about the latter species to tell the truth. Animals are fascinating of course but I'm not an, "animal lover" as such, and rather regard those who lay claim to this title as perhaps compensating for a lack of more human bonhomie in their lives.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The prospect of being chewed up by a bloody great crocodile should always inform one’s views of the natural world, lest one end up as dead as Australian naturalist and mental case Steve Irwin. Before last weekend's trip, I had, moreover, just watched a Werner Herzog documentary called, "Grizzly Man" in which another chuckle-brained individual, one Timothy Treadwell, attempts to befriend and live with a population of bears in the wilderness of Alaska, with predictable dietary consequences for the local ursine population.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Personally, I doubted that a light spraying in Autan mosquito repellent would do much to deter a hungry croc from chowing down on my lily white legs, and I thus walked ashore at Panaitan with some trepidation. Thankfully though, while monkeys and deer could be spotted surrounding our campsite, crocodile-wise, things seemed peaceful and nature remained unbloodied in tooth and claw.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After cooking up a spot of lunch it was time for the main event. We reboarded our boat and headed up the coast for 15 minutes for an assault on Gunung Raksa, Panaitan's main peak. Only 329m tall it may be, but our ascent of Raksa proved to be pretty much the most masochistic thing I've ever attempted. Next to this, the hike up the 4,000 m high Gunung Kinabalu in Malaysia that half killed me last year was a walk in the park.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Dense jungle, steep, wet, muddy slopes and ludicrously inappropriate footwear conspired to have me looking as if I'd just crawled out of a particularly noxious swamp within a matter of minutes. Moreover, spring-loaded brambles liberally peppered with thorns gleefully grabbed at my hands and arms as I tried unsuccessfully for the 20th time not to fall over like a silent comedian on a banana skin.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">We eventually reached the summit, atop which sits the oldest statue in Java. Unfortunately however, it’s a statue of the Hindu deity Ganesha, which means that, in light of recent developments in Sumatra, "offended" Muslims will no doubt soon be campaigning for its removal, despite the fact that it stands in one of the most isolated spots in the whole country. Looking at the statue, I had a vision of fundamentalist types cursing as their virgin white robes turned to muddy brown and their beards got caught on brambles, while they attempted to scale Raksa in order to blow up the statue, and this immediately cheered me up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After a brief rain shower, which only served to make the muddy slopes even more slippery, it was time for the harrowing descent. I soon found myself bringing up the rear of our party of eight as I tried to negotiate the terrain carefully without breaking my neck. Alas though, this proved less than salutary place to be, as the seven infidels in front of me had worn the "path" down to the consistency of the slippery mud chute.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After about 10 minutes of near fatal skids and tumbles, I gave up walking and opted to simply slide down the slopes on my behind, as if it were some kind of tropical luge run. This proved to be a just about workable technique, although I accelerated frighteningly out of control on a couple of occasions before slamming to a halt against tree trunks. Moreover, on the final 200m walk along the flat to our waiting boat, I tripped over a root and fell flat on my face. You really should leave Jakarta more often at the weekend folks, you don't know what you're missing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-51510785934118570842011-04-05T11:40:00.001+07:002011-04-05T11:41:17.491+07:00Dancing in the Dark<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Well, Earth Hour came and went last weekend with many seemingly oblivious to its very existence. There are 8760 hours in a single year and thus cutting the power for one of these hours (punches numbers triumphantly into calculator) could result in a massive 0.0114 per cent reduction in our annual electricity consumption. Possibly this won't make a huge dent in global warming and the increasing likelihood that we’ll all be sipping Icelandic Shiraz before the century is out. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Earth Hour is however, in the yoghurt-weaving, glibly eco parlance of our times, supposed to be more of a so-called "Consciousness raising" exercise. More of which later, for now though I'll just note that plenty of businesses around the city seemed to be using the event as an opportunity to promote their own agendas. "Come and enjoy Earth Hour with us by candlelight, there will be a 25 per cent discount on margaritas all night!" kind of thing. Rather cynical really, although perhaps the idea was to get the punters so drunk that they couldn't drive, thus reducing their carbon footprints to zero at a stroke.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">For my part, I decided to get on my bicycle and join an Earth Hour ride from fX Plaza up Jl. Sudirman to Monas with some of the city's keen amateur cyclists. As I'm sure most of you have noticed, there's something of a cycling revolution going on around town just at the moment. Young chaps have taken to twiddling around the city on the latest must have fashion accessory, namely the so-called ‘fixie’ bicycle. These are basically track bikes without gears and, quite worryingly, often without brakes too. Hipster kids are snapping up these rather impractical aluminium steeds like hot cakes however, usually in rather effeminate shades of lilac and turquoise and the like. They then spend their evenings pedalling between Circle K and 7Eleven in search of Red Bull fuelled good times (usually at extremely slow speeds due to the aforementioned lack of stopping power). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">And so my cycling brethren and I twiddled our way gently up the traffic choked Jl. Sudirman, possibly looking as incongruous as someone bouncing a pogo stick around a Formula One track. As we neared the famous Hotel Indonesia roundabout, the road became so chock solid that I was forced into my usual foolhardy tactic of wheeling my iron horse into the Busway lane and then pumping the old thighs hard enough to avoid being steamrollered into the asphalt by a pursuing TransJakarta behemoth. None of my fellow cyclists proved to be up to the Busway challenge however. The big Jessies.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Up at Monas, the lights went out, plunging the flame tipped phallus into darkness, well, semidarkness anyway. A real Earth Hour, in my view, would kill street lights, traffic lights, hospital defibrillators, respirators and dialysis machines, the lot. Let's see how committed people actually are to this premise. For my part, I gave up after half an hour and went to soak up the native charm down on nearby Jl. Jaksa at a friend's birthday drinkathon. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Earth Hour ay? I can't help feeling that this charity for the environment isn’t raising consciousness to the critical level of visceral, physical reality needed to break the capitalist-consumerist fantasies of our lives, lives that increasingly float unshackled by mere Earthly, environmental gravity, lives that are buoyed up by images on screens and the disembodying effects of surfing the net. Rather the whole environmental, Earth Hour shtick seems to have been assimilated into our materialistic culture as just another ad campaign. As the novelist Christopher Isherwood once said, the rich world has, "retired to live inside our own advertisements. Like hermits going into caves to contemplate."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Earth Hour is just another excuse to break out the bumper stickers and have a feel good Kodak moment, whilst the underlying mismatch of a capitalist system predicated on infinite expandability existing in a world of finite resources is never addressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">Like the shark that needs to keep swimming to prevent itself from sinking to the bottom, our capital centric world has to keep growing to work properly. Thus new desires and needs have to be constantly manufactured. You can look in the wardrobe and think to yourself, “Right I’ve got eight shirts, one for everyday of the week, and one more for luck” but who does? Nobody in the developed world does this because that’s no good for the system. The system has to get you to keep buying more and more shirts in order for the whole game to work, and thus a whole mindset, an ethos of consumerism, has to be instilled in the subject. Such an ethos cannot simply be shrugged off by turning off the lights for an hour, lighting a few candles and singing a few choruses of MJ’s “Heal the World”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Drunken musings aside, after a good old session with my friends, I found myself strolling outside of our bar of choice. "Oh bugger, I brought the bike didn't I?" I mused to myself. Now, I cycle to work every day, which is only 15 minutes from my house, but I'm certainly not used to cycling to the boozer of an evening. Moreover, earlier in the night, a friend had confessed to cycling into a metal pole in the middle of the street after a particularly discombobulating night out in Bali. "I mean, what was the pole doing there?" He implored. "Don't blame the pole," I reasoned, "it's only one short step from that to 'These are my airline seats, I'm a very important man, I'm friends with the boss of your company, I could have you fired!'" In any case, it was time to man up and wobble off home. Thankfully my bicycle has brakes, otherwise I'd have really been trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-31957902699546757662011-03-29T15:04:00.001+07:002011-03-29T15:05:42.517+07:00Girls on Film<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">As well as having to deal with the multi-headed hydra of all the country’s other woes, Indonesians now face the very real possibility of being deprived of Hollywood and other imported movies, as the nation's cinemas battle with new tax regulations. It's all highly complex and convoluted, as these things invariably are, however, in a nutshell, the film industry is squaring off against the government regarding a threatened import tax increase. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">This would be a major blow to the cinema going public of course. Personally, I rely on the gentle flickering of the silver screen to prevent me from ever experiencing any genuine emotion and fear a total psychic meltdown should the psychological crutch of the Hollywood cliché be removed from my life. In any case, the speciously nationalistic argument being offered is that the government is trying to support the national film industry, not that it has ever given much of a stuff about it before, but there you go.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">A few shining beacons of excellence aside, the Indonesian film industry is primarily known for its gratuitously titillating, lowest common denominator fare, which is usually liberally peppered with toilet roll wrapped zombies, buxom wenches straight from the central casting couch, and balloon-bursting-noise-face-punch sound effects. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">However, as we could all be forced to watch this stuff in the future, I thought that it would be best to check out a few local offerings. With this in mind, I picked up three local DVDs last week. They were all originals too, and priced between Rp.29,000 and Rp.49,000 (the fact that the vendors I visited didn't stock any pirated local films was not of the slightest interest to me, let me assure you).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I selected the three movies in question, which have all been screened at the country's Studio 21 cinemas over the last year or so, from the racks entirely at random. Even the one that sported a front cover image of local siren Julia Perez in her underwear was a random selection. Pure pot luck in fact, amazing really.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1Ix-VTTEL1b4DDy661CV260CxziCGdA0QBuowKtpSRI6jp-hHLRPzfeUXMBCjzJEvGJxQ7PqO4rA1OvdfGfCQgm4XcwLLXbTMIHNsISpzAAJ-OdPeSuPOrhFWktEMCvahT15/s1600/nakalnya-anak-muda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1Ix-VTTEL1b4DDy661CV260CxziCGdA0QBuowKtpSRI6jp-hHLRPzfeUXMBCjzJEvGJxQ7PqO4rA1OvdfGfCQgm4XcwLLXbTMIHNsISpzAAJ-OdPeSuPOrhFWktEMCvahT15/s320/nakalnya-anak-muda.jpg" width="224" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So let's get down to brass tacks then. First up was, "Nakalnya Anak Muda" (Naughty Youngsters), a murder thriller set in a spooky villa (yawn). In this effort, a group of chaps pick up a couple of sloe-eyed slatterns at a disco and they all head out to the countryside for a nice holiday, where the guy operating the dry ice machine really lets rip with some pea souper ambience.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Plot written by a hamster with its brain wired up to a pocket calculator aside, Indonesian movie production values definitely seem to have improved of late and the action sequences had an almost Cape Fear-esque moodiness to them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Alas, the only two surviving members of the murdered gang head down to the local police station, where the local arm of the law proves to be a model of professional concern. This bit required a suspension of disbelief above and beyond the capabilities of my perhaps meager imagination however. So I rebooted the DVD player and inserted our next Golden Garuda nominated effort, "Wakil Rakyat" (People's Representatives), which promised to be a political satire slash romantic comedy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">In this flick, we find ourselves at the conference of a fictional political party, the PSK (Partai Social Kerakyatan, which translates as the Social Democratic Party). The movie's hero, a janitor at the conference, let's a cat loose backstage to take care of the buildings rat problem. Alas however, the wily feline instead attacks the vermin like political elites, a nice play on a popular political metaphor. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The love story in this one is, as usual, as slushy as the bottom of a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">warung</i> cool box, however there were a few nice touches of political satire to enjoy, which is something that should definitely be encouraged here in my view. God knows that if the country's script writers really sharpened up their knives, then there’s enough material for thousands of movies for them to get stuck into. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Alas, the satire in this effort seemed to get slightly smothered by all of the doe-eyed fawning. Presumably though, what with this country's political culture, directors and producers here still run the risk of ending up embedded in a central pillar support in one of the city’s currently under construction flyovers if they overstep the mark.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxlPIo_lh9Y1IjGhyJkbOqqyDh4PRt4oVRlgIcOWycXIXNVMHzaIvIIysFbUUzRFX3m5rnpXWM_5rjSLJroSkOJy2DSngdTuX9ncRjbGBmF365yC1A4WIAtBzMHDszeQK41_s4w/s1600/istri-boongan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxlPIo_lh9Y1IjGhyJkbOqqyDh4PRt4oVRlgIcOWycXIXNVMHzaIvIIysFbUUzRFX3m5rnpXWM_5rjSLJroSkOJy2DSngdTuX9ncRjbGBmF365yC1A4WIAtBzMHDszeQK41_s4w/s320/istri-boongan.jpg" width="224" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The final show was Julia Perez's "Istri Bo'ongan" (Pretend Wife). Hand shaking in anticipation of 90 minutes of truculent, quivering Perez, I loaded the disc into the machine, had a cold shower and pressed play. Julia's busty substances had certainly been given a starring role and in the film's opening scene we see our heroine, the perfidious Perez, picking up a guy in a bar, taking him home and then being roughly taken from behind against a plate glass window.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">After a five-minute break to take my blood pressure meds and to apply a few icy flannels to my forehead, I pressed play again and pressed on with the movie. A tale of love, jealousy and deception unfolded before my eyes and built to a not entirely satisfying denouement, but who cares when young Julia’s there to save the day. It was just as well I was watching this one at home because smoking isn’t allowed in Studio 21 cinemas and my retinas were definitely starting to smolder.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So, will the Indonesian movie scene flourish? Well, as French art-house ponce Jean-Luc Godard once said, "All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl." By this account, Oscar nominations surely beckon.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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</div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-6150189130459638772011-03-23T14:27:00.003+07:002011-03-23T14:30:03.439+07:00Are Friends Electric?<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Last weekend, I thought that I'd finally bow to the dictates of fashion and the demands of cyber chic and buy a new mobile phone. My old model is looking decidedly clunky and more worryingly seems to have developed a fault whereby the device sometimes heats up while the battery drains at tremendous speed. I'm somewhat reluctant to get it fixed however, as popping it in my pocket affords me a cheap thrill and keeps the family jewels nice and <a href="http://www.nowpublic.com/health/cell-phones-may-cause-injury-men-s-testicles">toasty</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">In any case, I soon found myself trying to cross the road in front of Mal Ambassador in order to gain access to the multimedia bun fight/cyber refugee camp contained within this retail pleasure palace. Crossing the road here, previously a nightmare, has been made easier by the addition of a proper pedestrian crossing, complete with bleeping and flashing walk/don't walk signals, possibly the first of their kind in town. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">One always crosses the road at one's own risk in Jakarta of course, however this new Metropolitan innovation (only about 50 years after the things were first invented, but there you go) are surely a welcome introduction. Perhaps this will spur the city into some larger infrastructure projects. As it stands however, if a <st1:country-region w:st="on">Japan</st1:country-region> style 10 metre high tsunami were to crash through <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Jakarta</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Bay</st1:placetype></st1:place> at the moment, it would probably cause around Rp.50,000 of damage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">In fact, Governor Fauzi Bowo claimed this week that Jakarta's buildings would survive a major earthquake. Personally, I'd be more inclined to believe him if he’d put his money where his mouth is and gave us all a demonstration. I'd certainly enjoy seeing his moustache swaying from side to side and his panic stricken face poking out of the top floor window of an abandoned tower block as workmen worried away at the building's foundations with JCBs and the Indonesian military set off a few controlled detonations in the underground car park.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Anyway my little Wikileakers, after wading through monkeys on leashes and a phalanx of ojeg drivers buzzing hard on Red Bull, I finally made it into the plaza. Fantastically cheap devices have now put the wired world within nearly every Indonesian’s grasp, and I guess we have China and its discounted digital products to thank for this. Certainly Indonesia hasn't reached the same level of Sino semiconductor Savvy just yet. In fact, as I strolled through the rows of shops all selling Rp.500,000 Chinese Nexians, I had a vision of a similarly priced Indonesian device the size of a dictionary, bound in a teak and batik casing and coming with a hands-free device resembling the headphones from a B-52 bomber. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">No matter. They may not make 'em here but they certainly know how to use ‘em (sometimes to the exclusion of more pressing concerns, such as not driving into a canal). The Plaza was crowded with Sunday shoppers and the mobile phone stores in particular were awash with handset pumping customers and salesmen. In fact it proved impossible to tell one from the other. Where will all this button pushing end I wonder? Will we achieve a utopian, technological so-called "singularity" or is our touchscreen, silicon world just so much mental morphine taking our minds off the imminent collapse of the planet. Is there nothing of substance behind the technological smoke and mirrors? Or will we pull open the curtains on the whole dazzling spectacle, like Dorothy in the “Wizard of Oz”, only to be confronted with some senile old fart sitting there pulling a few levers?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Ah well, if you can't beat them. I eventually plumped for one of those new Android phones so that I could enjoy a wealth of apps, without being an Apple sap. There was one application in particular that I was most keen to get my hands on. RunPee Mobile shows just how deeply one can immerse oneself in the mobile life these days. Basically, if you are watching a movie in the cinema and get caught short, this application will give you a time linked synopsis of any plot developments taking place on the screen whilst you're draining your spuds in the cinema toilets. Bloody ridiculous. Although, if Hollywood films really do disappear from local theatres, as has been threatened, then I guess that you could just sit at home with your mobile and read the entire synopsis feed as an alternative to actually watching the damn thing. You'd be saving yourself Rp.25,000 and you could take a piss whenever you wanted into the bargain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">And so I bought my Android phone and, over the next few days, became engrossed in its infinite ocean of possibilities playing out across circuits more powerful than an 80s supercomputer. I've now crossed the critical threshold folks, like so many Jakartans before me have. A line of digital delineation has been traversed, beyond which it is impossible to switch the damn thing off. In fact, our computers will more than likely end up switching us off.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wDTYhMCBIKM/THURUUCtWJI/AAAAAAAAAGc/pk4mJvKg-xE/s1600/Android.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wDTYhMCBIKM/THURUUCtWJI/AAAAAAAAAGc/pk4mJvKg-xE/s320/Android.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Applications that I am currently searching for online include a call-to-prayer hands-free noise cancellation processing app and a GPS linked Jakarta taxi meter app that'll tell me if the driver's digital display is galloping faster than necessary. Ultimately, I'm hoping to track down an application that will enable me to wire my mobile up to my office computer and telephone and do my job for me while I slide off down the pub. Come on Google and all you app developers. I've thrown down the gauntlet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-86631543166534753272011-03-16T19:46:00.003+07:002011-03-16T19:53:29.420+07:00Paperback Raita<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Education is the key to becoming a fully rounded human being, or so they say. For your Indonesian Bambang or Dewi Average however, the education that they are liable to receive at a common or garden state school is unlikely to be particularly enlightening, or encourage much in the way of free thinking either for that matter. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So what does that leave us with? Television? As noble as the ideals of those working at the start of the great goggle box era may have been, I think that it's safe to say that the mental slurry that the tube shovels into our grey matter via eyes and ears for six hours a day isn't particularly edifying either, although there are notable exceptions.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oJVBqy8XvJw/SwJvf1HReJI/AAAAAAAAAdc/4DnYfP2ZUlc/s1600/Television.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oJVBqy8XvJw/SwJvf1HReJI/AAAAAAAAAdc/4DnYfP2ZUlc/s320/Television.jpg" width="294" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://patdollard.com/wp-content/uploads/obama_poster_hitler_yesweca.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://patdollard.com/wp-content/uploads/obama_poster_hitler_yesweca.gif" width="160" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So that leaves us with reading I guess, and the educational potential of the DIY approach. Not that this isn’t also fraught with problems. Hitler and Stalin were pretty much autodidacts and products of public libraries. It’s sobering to think of Adolf and Joe getting to grips with the Dewey decimal system. I wonder how big an unconscious effect the isolating silence of the traditional public library had on these two great dictators in the making, as they cobbled together their solipsistic ethical systems.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b263/mathguy1/5c0344ac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b263/mathguy1/5c0344ac.jpg" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">These days, there’s always the Internet too of course, however the closed communities, instant feedback loops and global reach that the web allows for seems to be even worse at breeding a whole generation of conspiracy theory fruit bat loon balls, all pumped up on their own mouse clicking paranoia.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">But enough of this effete badinage. I decided to go old school this week and check out Jakarta's public library system. In fact, I was quite looking forward to a brief return to dog-eared pages and shelves of musty print, as I recently purchased an e-reader and have been hard at work depriving the world authors of royalties via dodgy downloads ever since.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Just to digress for a moment, I heartily recommend these new gizmos. They store a ton of books and, most importantly as far as I'm concerned, sport the new e-ink technology. Basically, your average e-reader is a whole lot less sexy than an iPad, but its screen is not backlit, meaning no more eyestrain than a real book. And I say this as someone whose excessive computer usage has bored holes in his occipital lobes. Friends of mine remain cynical about the time-honored technology of the book being usurped by these devices however. "I don't believe in these e-readers, Simon," one sighed at me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">"I can assure you that they really do exist," I countered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Down at Library@Senayan in the Ministry of Education building at the bottom end of Jl. Sudirman though, it was a solid return to deforestation as the primary method of information transfer. My first attempt at some hardcore bookworm action was based on various archive pieces that I found on the Internet claiming that the library was now open until 8 p.m. and hailing a new era for Jakarta's libraries, which would now still be open for access by office workers when they knocked off for the evening.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I thus eagerly turned up at about 6 p.m. and alas had only tumbleweeds blowing around my ankles for company. Closed. Harumph. I wonder how long the 8 p.m. closing initiative lasted. Possibly as long as Busway lanes free of cars, smoking prohibitions in all public buildings and motorcycles being forced to ride on the left...about two weeks perhaps.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lowongankerjaonlin3.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/330x226-inf-logo-british-council-full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="http://lowongankerjaonlin3.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/330x226-inf-logo-british-council-full.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">My second attempt to gain access to this hallowed hall of learning proved more successful however. I headed upstairs and found that the library houses a sizeable English language book, audio and DVD library, which was largely inherited from the British Council. Presumably my British homeland doesn't have the cash to run the thing any more, what with the current financial squeeze, Conservative Prime Minister and rapidly drying up Libyan arms money. Double harumph. In fact, I read recently that a number of British public libraries are set to close, a move that has spawned a wave of bespectacled librarian riots across the country.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Library@Senayan is still open for business however, and its members start off in the Basic category, before graduating to Regular membership after one year and Premium membership after two years. Alas, Basic membership allows readers to borrow a miserly one book only. Triple harumph.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I thus declined the opportunity to join, still in a thrall to my e-reader, and instead went on a mini-tour of the bookshelves on a quest for the most tedious book titles that I could find. Among the gems I chanced across were, "Pesticides 1999", "Crofton and Douglas's Respiratory Diseases Volume 2" and "Security and Crime Prevention in Libraries." Someone clearly has a sense of humour with that last one. An honorary mention should also go to, "Tackling Alcohol Together", a weighty tome that perhaps doesn't tackle the subject from the angle that the somewhat ambiguous title seemed to suggest at first glance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">All of these seminal works and more can be yours for the borrowing, taking home, reading and forgetting about until you receive an overdue notice, down at Library@Senayan. Ignore several of these notices at your peril, as you will eventually find your house surrounded by an elite squad of heavily armed Indonesian police librarians demanding through megaphones that you emerge from the front door with your hands on your head kicking the book in question in front of you. Good luck out there bookworms.</span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-67031487823259845012011-03-03T09:46:00.000+07:002011-03-03T09:46:21.316+07:00Monkey Gone to Heaven<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This week, I attempted to escape the gravitational pull of Jakarta's population singularity by road. If you've ever attempted such a Homeric feat yourself, you'll know that it requires the patience of Job. The desperation currently being engendered by Jakarta's internal combustion engine purgatory is currently leading to a correspondingly desperate slew of ideas aimed at alleviating the problem. We are talking ideas so half baked that if they were potatoes, you’d be checking the warranty on your microwave.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Firstly, I've been keeping an eye on the progress of the new elevated road flyover, that will run south for nine kilometers from Blok M. Huge pile drivers and excavators have now turned Jl. Antasari into a post-industrial no man's land, however the exact progress of this new flyover remains hidden behind tasteful hoardings depicting green forests and jungle vistas. This is somewhat ironic, as this long stretch of semi-suburbia has now been almost completely denuded of trees in order to make way for the new gasoline guzzling funfair ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://irdionline.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/wpid-100610maket-jalan-layang-blok-m-cipete300225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://irdionline.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/wpid-100610maket-jalan-layang-blok-m-cipete300225.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Previously, Jl. Antasari may have been perpetually jammed, but at least it had a few leafy boughs for frustrated taxi drivers to gaze upon and drift off into bucolic reveries about their home villages over, as they crawled along at an average speed of 0.1 km/h. This area is now alas seemingly destined to be yet another alienating sea of concrete. Will it be less jammed though? Well that’s debatable. For a start, the flyover is not going to increase the overall amount of public transportation, as being suspended six metres above the road would surely make disembarking from buses a problem. Mind you, this being Indonesia, I would fully expect some dollar-a-day chancer to install a series of rope ladders at 100 meter intervals along the flyover and charge bus passengers Rp.500 a time in order to drop down onto the traffic below.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Even more fun awaits Busway users however. Governor Fauzi recently had a brainwave as he was shampooing his still bristlingly handsome moustache in the shower, and has decided that he may reverse the direction of the city’s Busway lanes, creating a TransJakarta contraflow system that he claims will, "discourage" other motorists from cheekily slipping into said lanes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
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</o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thejakartapost.com/files/images2/CARTOON_BUSWAY-COLOR.main%20story.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.thejakartapost.com/files/images2/CARTOON_BUSWAY-COLOR.main%20story.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Let's hope that every single car driver is indeed discouraged, as I have visions of some poor young lady absentmindedly sliding her Honda Jazz into one of the new contraflow lanes, before slamming into a gas powered behemoth at a combined relative velocity of 100 km/h. Still, should the Jazz disgorge its contents and the young lady in question be slammed head first through two windshields before coming to rest on the bus driver’s steering wheel, then at least the quickest route to medical attention would be to simply remain on the bus until it passed the nearest hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">But I digress. My own drive down to the charming stretch of coast at Pelabuhan Ratu was its own hell on wheels. After leaving the luxurious, tarmac covered expanses of the Jakarta toll road at Ciawi, one is instantly funnelled into a potholed, minivan choked bottleneck and onto a road surface apparently consisting of squashed tofu and rice. Still, at least there was an unbroken line of minimarts stretching into the distance to help me out on my West Javanese odyssey. People are currently complaining of minimart overkill, but when you're crawling along at 50 meters per hour, they can be a godsend. In fact, it’s somewhat ironic, given the orthodox Mohammedan fervor currently whipping certain elements in Java into a frenzy, that there's never been a larger amount of tasty refrigerated beer available on the average West Javanese high street.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">My journey to the beach eventually took six hours (it's possible to do it in three). Still, I managed to use the lost three hours productively by reminiscing about comedy shows and music with my companion for the journey, the inestimable Mr. Dan. Multitasking, as I believe it's called in the parlance of our times. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The following morning, I joined around 40 other hikers and we embarked on a 20 km long jaunt down the coast. Along the way we encountered deserted virgin beaches and beautiful thick jungle. It was hard to believe that I was on the same Malthusian vision of island life as I had been the previous evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Walking down through a jungle filled headland towards a timelessly unspoiled stretch of sand, I drifted off into a hallucination of one million years of life on Java compressed into several minutes. I imagined a semi-evolved simian following me down onto the beach after descending from the headland trees. He would gradually straighten up on his two legs as we headed towards the sand and would then wade into the sea. Finding himself able to swim, he would then return to dry land, now fully hairless, having ascended several thousand years up the phylogenetic scale during his dip. He would then walk to the nearest road and find a Toyota parked there. After jumping all over it in confusion like a ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ primate dancing around a monolith, he'd have a eureka moment, open the door, stick the key in the ignition and zoom off down the street to the nearest minimart. Which I believe is where we came in…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2010/06/21/article-1288367-0A226E5C000005DC-861_468x286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2010/06/21/article-1288367-0A226E5C000005DC-861_468x286.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-45657696417735653452011-02-24T09:57:00.000+07:002011-02-24T09:57:33.612+07:00Breakin' Rocks in the Hot Sun<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Well it's been a somewhat less than enlightening time in Indonesia over the last couple of weeks. The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlcfL6tBxlE">Youtube video of the Ahmadiyah killings </a>certainly gave me a few nightmares and made me wonder about the new religious orthodoxy sweeping the nation in a scrum of white robes, wispy beards and incandescent rage ready to boil over and be directed against anyone who has the audacity to hold different beliefs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The philosophical argument that orthodox religion makes people less, rather than more moral is one that I, as a card-carrying infidel, fully subscribe to. Given that our morality, like our physical bodies, has evolved and is innate, we should have the courage to rely on our own convictions and judgements.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ebookhome.org/thumbs/?src=http://pixhost.info/avaxhome/28/f8/0018f828.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://ebookhome.org/thumbs/?src=http://pixhost.info/avaxhome/28/f8/0018f828.jpeg" width="192" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">In contrast, dogmatic beliefs demand that the faithful follow rules strictly, like automatons, without thinking or questioning why they are taking certain courses of action, or why certain acts are either moral or immoral. Fundamentalists lack moral finesse and depth as a result. Their morality is merely reactive. What Nietzsche dubbed a slave morality.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Well that's enough from Atheism 101 for another week. The president is quite rightly copping plenty of flak over the incident. As the philosopher Hegel pointed out, the most dangerous ideology to any government is its own. For example, despite the still stubbornly persisting anti-communist rhetoric, I think it is fair to say that communism is not a major threat to Indonesia these days. There certainly aren't any on the political scene, as there still are in other countries.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kheper.net/topics/philosophy/Hegel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.kheper.net/topics/philosophy/Hegel.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">No, the real threat to Indonesia’s elites is the ideology that they actually pledge their allegiances to, namely secular democracy. It’s a threat because people might have the audacity to expect their leaders to live up to these ideals, and actually do what they say they're going to do.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">So will the Indonesian public at large rise up once again and walk like Egyptians? Well they are certainly down with the whole social media thing that's supposed to be so potentially insurrectionary these days, although I'm not sure that for the most part it actually stretches much beyond taking a picture of the ‘soto ayam’ that they had for lunch on their Blackberries and then posting it up on Facebook under a status update that says, "This is what I had for lunch, yummy!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://tdusts.nfshost.com/wordpress/wp-content/upLoads/Military-Operation-Canceled-Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://tdusts.nfshost.com/wordpress/wp-content/upLoads/Military-Operation-Canceled-Facebook.jpg" width="220" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And what of the actual forces of law and order, the police, what were they doing during all this mayhem? Well they were standing by in their ill fitting brown shirts, with epaulettes the size of Korans, and watching it all happen it would seem. Possibly they have sympathies with the rioters, I mean there are plenty of circumstances under which an Indonesian policeman won’t think twice about kicking seven shades of crap out of somebody, you just ask Amnesty International.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ultimately though, what the apoplectic critics of the police force that have filled the media over the last week have failed to grasp, is that the actual law is largely irrelevant to most things that happen in this country. The police force has been essentially privatised here, and the public can avail themselves of a full range of law enforcement services, which can be bought for an easily payable, interest free fee. Simply pop into your local police station and pick up a price list. I believe there's a 30% discount this month on having a bothersome business partner arrested on the flimsiest of pretexts and then banged up in the slammer.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2008/04/22/activist_wideweb__470x325,0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2008/04/22/activist_wideweb__470x325,0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Thankfully, I've never enjoyed the edifying experience of having an Indonesian policeman’s size 9 wrapped around my ear hole. Although, over the years, I have been stopped more times than I care to recall in those classic, late night ID checks. If the policeman rejects your photocopy, the only way out is, as the British euphemism goes, to "Buy a ticket to the policeman's ball." God knows when this Indonesian policeman's ball is actually going to take place, but they’ll need to hire Gelora Bung Karno stadium on the big night in order to accommodate the crowds.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The main reason for such late-night tappings on the driver's side window in any normal country would be to administer a breathalyser test. However Indonesian law enforcers generally seem unusually unconcerned about being confronted with a motorist driving with one eye open, who greets them with a hiccup punctuated, "Malamat Salam." Strange really, as our brave boys in brown could surely rake in a fortune if they attempted to actually enforce drink-driving laws here.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.theinjurylawyers.co.uk/injury-lawyers-blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/drink-driving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.theinjurylawyers.co.uk/injury-lawyers-blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/drink-driving.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">My most recent run-in with the cops here came after I executed a U-turn I apparently shouldn't have. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Mister, look at the sign, no U-turn."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Ah, I see now, yes there is a sign there, not the most visible of signs it has to be said, what with it being unlit and at night time, and I also see that it's been deliberately bent behind the tree in front of it so that no one can see it."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"You can help me Mister?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"No."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"You pay now."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"No."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Just enough for one packet of cigarettes, come on Mister!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"Lord almighty, have some dignity man." <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Thus it ever was and ever shall be. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
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</div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-24730377833011245112011-02-15T18:20:00.005+07:002011-02-15T18:30:44.849+07:00Phil Me Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFavUhjqHga_Gtpe_y_IbeJ8KvwKBL3b3ckJYd7LKQraPgJbicejqzWx_m-qeEopUuHUjmwFhns-9LbPymJJGJSO75sHhI00bpZ5a_yJaF0Wj61aqV459OKqb_xeH7TvUZ1QwwZQ/s1600/DSC01883+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFavUhjqHga_Gtpe_y_IbeJ8KvwKBL3b3ckJYd7LKQraPgJbicejqzWx_m-qeEopUuHUjmwFhns-9LbPymJJGJSO75sHhI00bpZ5a_yJaF0Wj61aqV459OKqb_xeH7TvUZ1QwwZQ/s320/DSC01883+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdi3SRERLcDMgoSIXF8YJUVbcu7fJcSF5KcisAuU0Z50p2Rf7gv12OqIeyZnVYVX0VC5gvUmI0RkiRbiQml1Dif_7LWD2nAJ87YhIbBmzXQy-kNXv3NUJUB5FyVISuMgVnMKjiRQ/s1600/DSC01801+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdi3SRERLcDMgoSIXF8YJUVbcu7fJcSF5KcisAuU0Z50p2Rf7gv12OqIeyZnVYVX0VC5gvUmI0RkiRbiQml1Dif_7LWD2nAJ87YhIbBmzXQy-kNXv3NUJUB5FyVISuMgVnMKjiRQ/s320/DSC01801+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">More comparative study touring this week folks, this time to the Philippines, somewhere I'd never been before. Alas though, Tony Fernandes' AirAsia doesn't fly to the country for some reason (you'd think he'd be a shoe in with a name like that) so I had to bag a non-budget Air Philippines flight to Manila. Four hours later I touched down at Ninoy Aquino airport and took a taxi that was every bit as dodgy as the ones down at Soekarno-Hatta into town.</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVf73rnHrdFXmrJqYSuZUqMkjfWQYIjcKHIKEXgcCm1NBaWIF_Py03VmymzYk5hWeEYBX-OU2BXm3YEm0GrzmI-LBE3on284j6GR_Tzo28B1hdTKA6-2Uoe1nJj2kReLPmW14dQ/s1600/DSC01921+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVf73rnHrdFXmrJqYSuZUqMkjfWQYIjcKHIKEXgcCm1NBaWIF_Py03VmymzYk5hWeEYBX-OU2BXm3YEm0GrzmI-LBE3on284j6GR_Tzo28B1hdTKA6-2Uoe1nJj2kReLPmW14dQ/s200/DSC01921+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">It turns out that Manila is similar to Jakarta in many respects, only with more pork, booze and firearms on the menu. The capital of the Philippines is both crowded, traffic jammed, polluted and possessed of a rich/poor chasm that would turn Dick Cheney into a socialist. The people also look exactly like Indonesians, although frustratingly, and rather inconsiderately in my view, they don't speak any Indonesian. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I soon found myself taking in all the classic tourist sites, including a walk through the huge and action packed Rizal Park to the waterfront (which, I have to say, looks considerably cleaner and less likely to be incubating horrendous skin diseases than the turgid stuff sloshing around in Jakarta Bay does). Eventually it was time for a feed. I passed on a local fast food chain called Chic Boy but I felt unwilling to delve into the whole transgender can of worms that the name seemed to imply. Instead, I headed to an infamous bar called the Hobbit House and ordered up an Elvis flooring amount of pork.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdOHP8OAJBDCt6Jnx8-2wyE9w7uHNc7YiyPTpKQz9jtKlzIEdPa9K3uKENAmxOdJ5EuhMhCeIQ5MwPitVxeZlEai0rehuDX-mnEwQYGCF5ize0wFZwdR874dxk3ju6hLsOcowyQ/s1600/DSC01857+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdOHP8OAJBDCt6Jnx8-2wyE9w7uHNc7YiyPTpKQz9jtKlzIEdPa9K3uKENAmxOdJ5EuhMhCeIQ5MwPitVxeZlEai0rehuDX-mnEwQYGCF5ize0wFZwdR874dxk3ju6hLsOcowyQ/s320/DSC01857+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hmzKrY74pHy4ZQX00921BDbfwxGCw9kl3LB1PmYJvXfqQN_ycUMUvFhkBLBGK-AiwrdEOvekqR3uspc-O83MM4zKjClEERnpQh6mGaA4R27IgsjLoekUUUiBcYoScsRh-KFQRg/s1600/DSC01780+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hmzKrY74pHy4ZQX00921BDbfwxGCw9kl3LB1PmYJvXfqQN_ycUMUvFhkBLBGK-AiwrdEOvekqR3uspc-O83MM4zKjClEERnpQh6mGaA4R27IgsjLoekUUUiBcYoScsRh-KFQRg/s320/DSC01780+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The Hobbit House bar is rather unique in that its serving staff are all of diminutive stature. Basically they’re midgets and dwarves, as the not so politically correct terms for these delightful creatures have it. It was slightly unnerving to have one's beer poured by someone not much taller than the tabletop and I wondered if it was all a subtle psychological ploy to make the food portions seem larger in comparison with their tiny frames. I also speculated that naughtier Asian bars could exploit the low-on-the-ground-ness of the female waiting staff to offer customers various other services whilst they supped on their beers.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The classic rock covers band was soon shaking their locks though and, despite my usual misgivings about such bands, I had to admit that they were pretty good. The Philippines is famed for its musicians and, to be honest, the band that I saw at least, micturated all over their Indonesian counterparts from a great height.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAhP_PUEif0GvXaSx4maI3gW-MNnp4p_X-qwaHxuAKNjIbj8emr8ZI3HiCyqVSYknn2GI59vD4Y-ZKcJnFHPxxhgFFS6K3p7oxMMxzDyMZJHmcY_fI406PWyVnO9uGueQ6lkF3w/s1600/DSC01791+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAhP_PUEif0GvXaSx4maI3gW-MNnp4p_X-qwaHxuAKNjIbj8emr8ZI3HiCyqVSYknn2GI59vD4Y-ZKcJnFHPxxhgFFS6K3p7oxMMxzDyMZJHmcY_fI406PWyVnO9uGueQ6lkF3w/s320/DSC01791+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FGeHqKezxxZQzMNjdomV0tmuSv4AlPgB2-toTo_EeU-IYbJ3cYX_l8wO6-4GdHYrcTBdYZ-l1c-rtsO0Mb6AmjL8DI9xLPHXk0NLr_W0VWtp8nniNHVmkStN1qfp39kQpVhrkw/s1600/DSC01872+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FGeHqKezxxZQzMNjdomV0tmuSv4AlPgB2-toTo_EeU-IYbJ3cYX_l8wO6-4GdHYrcTBdYZ-l1c-rtsO0Mb6AmjL8DI9xLPHXk0NLr_W0VWtp8nniNHVmkStN1qfp39kQpVhrkw/s320/DSC01872+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The next morning it was time to jump on a bus bound for the beach. As I waited outside the hotel, I noticed a sign next to the security guard in the lobby saying, "Please deposit your firearms here." This is certainly not something you see in Jakarta thank God, as the place would be a bloodbath if your Budi Average was allowed to pack a piece.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The Philippines' recent history is somewhat intertwined with Uncle Sam of course, although I'm not sure that this desire to bang away like a porn star on speed is indigenous to the country or has been largely influenced by the old Charlton Heston brigade. In any case, I'm sure that Filipinos don't quite stretch to insisting, like Chuck, that they will only be separated from their weapons when they’re prized from their cold dead hands. Mind you, when Douglas MacArthur (in many respects perhaps a Heston antecedent) strode ashore and declared to the people of the Philippines that, "I have returned," presumably he was packing a few shooters in his belt.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Three hours from Manila, lays the tourist island of Mindoro and I thought that this would offer a genuine comparative study tour opportunity. It would thus afford me the chance test my firmly held belief that the people in charge of tourism in Indonesia, far from being experts in their own country’s geography and culture, would in fact find it hard to locate their own private parts without the aid of GPS system and are about as marketing savvy as a man who's just come up with a, "Honk if you're Ahmadiyah" bumper sticker.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Mindoro is a gorgeous place in fact and offers top diving, waterfalls, beaches, snorkelling, hot springs and mountains, much like any Indonesian island worth its salt in fact. Where it differed though was in its tourist numbers, which seemed to be at that Goldilocks, "just right," level. Neither creaking under the weight of sheer numbers with an infrastructure pushed to bursting point, like the comparably sized Bali is, but at the same time enjoying enough visitors give the place a bit of fun and life, unlike pretty much everywhere else in Indonesia outside of Bali, Mindoro is everything that islands like Lombok or Belitung could be, but aren't.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGm7RWFygAbL93BGsDjpFVgXmXtyMnuZNdRseBbDJLByley5bcJxf_vZAxb6DpRESiq5X7oeDZVrGLzBt3lHJ3D7fX-j-4KopjlOe7OGdq9Q4Ga23BVIl0Z1tM80oV6McWenyXw/s1600/DSC01894+%2528Small%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbGm7RWFygAbL93BGsDjpFVgXmXtyMnuZNdRseBbDJLByley5bcJxf_vZAxb6DpRESiq5X7oeDZVrGLzBt3lHJ3D7fX-j-4KopjlOe7OGdq9Q4Ga23BVIl0Z1tM80oV6McWenyXw/s320/DSC01894+%2528Small%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Alas, it was all too soon time to return to the Big Durian. I hadn't had nearly enough time to work on my pork belly, but it had been a thoroughly decent break from the psychic distress that Jakarta inflicts on me on a daily basis. Well worth a look.</span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35119671.post-63515851395390512712011-02-01T14:56:00.000+07:002011-02-01T14:56:11.080+07:00Friday, I'm in Prayer<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">This week, I attempted something that, I have to admit, filled me with a certain amount of foreboding and trepidation. Specifically, I strolled to a mosque across the road from my office for a good old Friday prayer session. Five times per day is de rigueur for Mohammedans everywhere and Friday prayers, known as Jumu'ah in Arabic (presumably the root of the Indonesian word 'Jumat' meaning Friday, etymology fans) are considered a special part of the week and apparently attendance is compulsory for all the chaps. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/70509/friday_prayers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/70509/friday_prayers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Women can also attend if they want but must remain in their own section at the back (in prayer as in life, one might conclude). There is a passage in the Koran which states that, "O ye who believe! When the call is proclaimed prayer on Friday (the Day of Assembly), hasten earnestly to the remembrance of Allah, and leave off business (and traffic): that is best for you if ye but knew."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Now, I think we can all testify to the business being left off every Friday lunchtime, and the perennial shrug of the shoulders followed by the age-old refrain of, “Sorry, it's Friday prayers, cannot... no ambulances until at least one o'clock I’m afraid Sir." <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/photo/gallery/090824/GAL-09Aug24-2518/media/PHO-09Aug24-175943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/photo/gallery/090824/GAL-09Aug24-2518/media/PHO-09Aug24-175943.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">The traffic part in the above quotation is perhaps not observed with quite the same fervour however and I'm assuming that double parking in front of mosques, creating huge snarl ups, is not considered a mortal sin. Mind you, I'm guessing that camel jams were infrequent in Medina two millennia ago, and so perhaps religious guidance on this matter could be considered sketchy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">And so, I joined the guys as they spilled across the road with their hats and prayer mats last Friday and attempted to remain as inconspicuous at possible. I didn't have either a hat or a prayer mat myself alas, however I doubt that the possession of said items would have helped me in my quest for a low-key presence. I was in the, "Hello Mr" zone that's for sure and soon relaxed. It certainly beats worshippers spilling out of mosques pumped up on fiery anti-infidel demagoguery, ready to burn a few flags, throw a few stones, do a lot of shouting and set fire to my trousers, as is wont to happen elsewhere in the Islamic world.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://terrychay.com/m/im/blog/flag-burning2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://terrychay.com/m/im/blog/flag-burning2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christopher Hitchens, the world-famous polemical atheist (who is now in the throes of terminal cancer, much to the delight of his religious critics) was once told by a devout Christian that he would surely feel safer knowing that a group of hypothetical met that were walking down the street towards him had just come out of a prayer meeting. Hitchens replied that far from being a hypothetical situation, he had had this experience in Belfast, Bethlehem, Bombay, Belgrade, Beirut and Baghdad, and when you see groups of men coming out of prayer meetings in these places, you know exactly how fast you have to run in the opposite direction. And that's just the Bs!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://benjaminhale.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/hitchens2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://benjaminhale.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/hitchens2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">Obviously Indonesia has yet to reach this stage, although worrying signs of religious intolerance have been creeping into the country's body politic in recent years. Radicalism seemed far from the agenda at my local mosque though, and I removed my shoes and socks and quietly made my way around the back of the congregation to observe proceedings.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">There was no fiery rhetoric this time, only imprecations to do God's will, whatever that might be on any given day. After the sermon and prayers, the faithful spilled out onto the street and, instead of burning effigies of Binyamin Netanyahu, instead hit the mini-marts and local warungs for a decent wedge of divinely blessed drinks, smokes and rice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">As I chomped on my beef rendang, I asked one of the guys how he’d feel if a church was built opposite the mosque. "Well, it's okay if the locals agree," he replied, as if this position delineated the absolute pinnacle of enlightened religious tolerance. Unfortunately though, this is the law now in Indonesia and religious freedom for minority faiths is dependent on the whims of the majority. The government has set an appalling example here by demanding signatures of local communities before and by allowing members of the public to enforce this law, thus legitimizing the lynch mobs that have started to run riot.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.crystalinks.com/olympians.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.crystalinks.com/olympians.gif" width="254" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt;">"I saw you at the mosque Mr. want to become a Muslim?" I politely declined, prostrating myself five times a day under the auspices of a religion whose name translates into English as, "submission" runs somewhat counter to the independence of mind and thought that I cherish so dearly. No, if I had to choose a faith, I guess that I’d be strolling around the base of Mount Olympus. At least the gods up there didn't really care too much about the affairs of men, at least not in the sense of giving him a list of rules to be adhered to strictly without question. This left the Greek mortals down below free to philosophically enquire into the nature of life and reality, unmolested by religious dogma, a project that proved moderately successful by all accounts. Now where's my toga? That should turn a few heads down Mampang way next Friday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Simon Pitchforthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00293214259306762769noreply@blogger.com