the safest time to cross the street in Jakarta can be when the city is at the level of maximum danger, as Daniel Pope explains.
Most roads in Jakarta are so horribly congested than being hit by a car simply involves being gently nudged his way. But crossing roads where traffic speeds along freely, Indonesians use a "magic hand" stretched some buses and trucks hurtling towards them, as they come down the sidewalk with the confidence of Moses sea-separation. Surprisingly, they never hit. It is as if they slipped into another dimension, vehicles that pass directly through them.
Foreigners, lack this ability, it is advisable to cross the streets of Jakarta as a soldier running through a battlefield. You have your eyes darting in all directions, up also because you never know-and then dash forward when you see a gap in traffic approaching the treatment of vehicles around you as the explosion of mortar shells. And that's just when the lights are red. Other times you should forget the road and find a gateway instead.
that pedestrian bridges are not entirely sure. I was assaulted on a spanning Jalan Sudirman. Facing a small boy waving a small knife type, who suggested he threatened to smear me with butter rather than stab me, I laughed. However, his accomplice was a tattooed man with long hair with a sickle, which he handled with no small amount of threat. I quickly put on my wallet. The boy extract money, returned the wallet with a chirpy "Thank you, sir," and left with his cohort.
A police officer then advised me to shout " Maling! "(thief) if I ever attack me again. That would alert passersby to form an angry mob and beat the thieves up.
As the young thief on the bridge, most Indonesians treat foreigners as "Sir". it is usually in the form of "Hello, Sir", which simply means, or " Mau ke mana , sir? " Which means "Where are you going?" And is not intended to be intrusive. So I am surprised when I visited the small town of Rumbai in the Riau province of Sumatra, where the most popular host of youth local, usually passing aboard motorcycles, was "Fk you, sir!"
I've never attacked in Riau, but my hotel room robbed me. Returning one afternoon to make a run, I spotted the thief to leave my door, and I rushed after him up the stairs. I took the advice and shout Maling 'the policeman? Curiously not. I am afflicted by a temporary sort of silence. I shouted, "Oi!" Yes quite. "Oi, you! Oi!" As if my toe was trampled.
Guests of the Indonesian Hotel milling around the foot of the stairs, perhaps fearing that "Oi!" Was English for kebakaran (fire), or some other urgent warning, moved toward the exits. Meanwhile, the thief, who fled the undisputed hotel, jumped on the back of the bike a waiting accomplice, and they spun with my laptop.
I jumped into a taxi and asked the driver to give chase. However, this driver and I'm not kidding here-suffering an acute nervous tic which in the most regulated companies, it would have the right to drive. Every minute his arm, as if left by a clock-controlled involuntarily snatched the wheel down, as his back and pushed exhaled a plaintive statement when the vehicle swerved off-course. Each time this happened, he swiveled around, smiling, "Sorry, sir."
At normal speed, could pass as another erratic driver, but I was pushing him hard. Finally, one of the most violent spasms caused the car to the central barrier. If we had been going faster would the taxi overturned. I was lucky. But being thrown in the back seat by the collision gave me a hint how scary bone breakdown would be the impact of a full-on car crash. I became a seat belt back after converting.
By far the greatest danger I ever felt in me came May 14, 1998, which would become infamous as the day when anarchy seized much of Jakarta and the rioters took control. The riots were triggered in part by the Asian financial crisis, which caused the rupee crash, wiping out people's savings and causing massive layoffs.
I woke up at home in central Jakarta at the sight of white smoke drifting past my window. At first I thought there must be more sate vendors than usual parked on the street. Then a friend phoned to say he was on top of his desk looking at a shopping center burn. Later, we learned that nine people died in that mall, indicating that there was no coordination between the arsonists and looters. It was the story across much of the city, where provocateurs had prompted people to loot -., Then set fire in shopping centers while the robbers were still inside
In end of my street a procession of over-loaded vehicles motorcycles bajaj , cars, vans, trucks pluttered back parts of the city where looting was rampant. A bajaj looked as if the roof could collapse under the tottering pile of brand new, appliances box secured to it. There was a chest freezer, a washing machine, a TV cabinet -. expensive items for this downmarket neighborhood
We heard that some stores have remained intact. In the coming weeks, the former staff would be picketed some of these buildings radiated naked, holding placards reading: -
Not one officer "Enjoy your loot now rot later in hell." Police were everywhere to be seen during the riots.
Palls black smoke rising behind the houses of the city gave an apocalyptic backdrop.
Ignoring the warnings that I could be kidnapped or unhappy reassignment ethnic Chinese population of Jakarta has been the target of malevolence-I perched on a motorcycle taxi who threaded if the streets people together like zombies from waste and rubble. I sought refuge, a place where I could find in number and security guards security. I stayed in a hotel for the night. Many people have had no luck. More than 1,000 were killed, mostly in shopping centers of fires; while scores of ethnic Chinese women were raped en masse. The brains were never brought to justice.
The next day, the streets were really became a military battlefield. The authorities had regained control of most of the city at noon and army vehicles were patrolling the streets. Almost everything on wheels was khaki and spraying guns. Tanks were rolling along Jalan Sudirman, Jakarta's main commercial thoroughfare. Moreover, there was almost zero traffic and few people to see.
The riots were completely extinguished by evening, if the political and social unrest far more was to come to Jakarta and the country. But for one day at least, crossing the road has never been easier or safer.