Those deafening sounds of car engines and honks and human’ shouts piercing through your ears.
That smoke-infested air filling your lungs and making your eyes water.
Those rubbish scattered all across the roads.
Those dirty buses with funny graffiti and naughty paintings.
Those crazy drivers and pedestrians who don’t seem to care about basic rules of driving and traffic.
Today I went to Kampung Melayu to hop on a bus for the first time after 5 months of separation. Seems like I’m the only one who’s moving on. Seems like I’m the only one changing. I felt like as if it was my first time.
Maybe this is called homecoming-craziness syndrome, but really, while 5 months ago I detested Kampung Melayu, now I came to fall in love with the scene.
“Oh come on, it’s not like I’ve gone for 5 years or so,” I kept saying to myself.
It never occurred to me that I would miss those Bataks shouting and cursing across buses, those lunatic grannies and kiddos hopping into and out of the moving bus like bunnies, and even those irresponsible smokers smoking their cheap tobaccos and spreading that carcinogenic smoke all over the bus and inducing asthmatic attack.
And don’t even start with street musicians cum beggars. I heart street musicians - I never give them any money though, no pain no gain, man! They may sound as messy as can be, but sometimes they’re damn good and always entertaining. It’s like, Bang Toyib is perfect soundtrack for public transportation! Or maybe I just like some music on the road.
I still hate those begging kiddos though.
But the thing I love the most about metrominis is the feeling of life’s hardships. I saw people coming home from work, trapped in their routine essential for their survival. I saw street musicians, reciting their usual have-a-nice-trip-but-give-us-money talk before playing their not-so-perfect-but-they-got-to-do-it-anyway tunes. I saw beggars trying to cash in easy money. I saw drivers and keneks, stopping their buses anywhere they want just so they can earn more. I saw journeying people, willingly inhaling that unhealthy air and sitting on iron plates called seats just so they can have a cheap trip.
Just the kind of Jakarta-ish hardships you won’t find in countries like Singapore, where everything just seems numb and robotic, at least for me who is used to living in Jakarta. I know now that I still need to see that raw desire of survival coping in big cities infested with capitalism.
Oh well, I’m no expert in economics or sociology or anything anyway, so I don’t have rights to crap about survival and infrastructure in Jakarta anymore than this.














