Flags, Signs & Motorbikes (aka Election Campaign, Indo-style)

Coffee House Resto, Jl. Tirtodipuran

I am sitting in a cafe/restaurant, called – wait for it  – “Coffee House”, at the western end of Jalan Tirtodipuran where I don't think I've ever been before. The name lured me in, as I was looking for somewhere to sit down & have a coffee, ideally with free internet access, maybe air-con if I'm lucky, and that wasn't one of the familiar/safe/easy cafés that can become the default if you let them. Variety is the spice of life after all, right? After an hour or two riding around on a really hot and loud day, this was a relief to find. I must have ridden past about 10 other coffee restos, but the only ones I hadn't already been to seemed strangely to be closed until after lunchtime. Who does a coffee shop that isn't open in the morning, or even for lunch? The Javanese, it would seem.

Having dropped the lad off at playgroup at 9am, my missions for this morning were fairly straightforward:

1. buy a microphone cable, and

2. something I should have done a long time ago, which is complete my first Bahasa Indonesia lesson (free lessons from Uni of Hawaii: http://ipll.manoa.hawaii.edu/indonesian/courses/ind103/the-indonesian-way/)

The first was easy, thanks to advice from one of my Ayah mertua staf - father in law's staff – (terima kasih, Rubby!). That's if by “easy” you mean going to the exact given location, unknowingly driving past the very shop you need at least four times, doing a few laps of each block that join at this intersection, and finally pulling over outside an “Engineering” shop as it seemed like a suitable place to park the bike while searching on foot, only to find said engineering shop are indeed stockists of a range of PA gear. The easy part I guess was that the proprietor's son spoke near flawless English (having studied at UNSW in Sydney). One microphone cable acquired, tick.

Studying Bahasa Indonesia - not so easy.

Aside from the absence of air-con (the ceiling fan above me will suffice), this Coffee House place seemed to be a good option. The cappuccino – real, not sachet – is satisfying, if a tad bitter. The lunch menu looks pretty good (chicken caesar salad!), and the ambience great. Check the retro bike parked in the front courtyard and the Buddha zen-garden water feature up the back. Plus, free wifi. A good place to zone out and do a language lesson, right?

Only we're a week out from the election. And for pretty much an entire month the whole city has been under assault. See, compared to back home, Indonesian election campaigning is a bit different. Or, to be more accurate, completely & utterly insane. The language barrier thankfully precludes me from being exposed to TV, newspaper or other media coverage, so I can't comment on those, but there are three other extremely obvious means of advertising one's political aspirations over here:

1. put up lots, and I mean lots, of flags – which actually add some beauty to the chaotic urban scene;

2. put up lots, and I mean really lots, of signs. Everywhere. To the point that you can't see the city for the signs; and worst of all,

3. pay lots – and I mean f***ing s**tloads – of young and mostly male vagabonds to take the muffler off their motorcycle and ride in chaotic procession around the streets, gridlocking entire suburbs, all day, revving their motors while a friend – sometimes wearing a balaclava or towel on their heads so they resemble either an axe murderer or a terrorist – waves a massive party flag from the seat behind.

The noise is beyond description. But don't take my word for it - check this video out.

I seriously have to cover my ears, while sitting inside with a wall between me and the road. So you can probably imagine just how loud it is when you're unlucky enough to get stuck in one of these processions on the road. "Deafening" probably covers it. And what's even stranger is that folks seem to come out from their homes and line the streets, waving their flags like they're watching a parade. For fun. And yet none of them, not even the children, seem to have earplugs in.

This noise has been reasonably constant for the best part of the month. But the good news is, so the guy in the Audio Engineering shop tells me, that there are only two more days of campaigning before the mandatory three-days pre-election curfew of silence kicks in. I seriously can't wait for that.

I dread to think  what the Presidential Election later in the year will be like.

But hey - I guess this is all part of the cultural immersion.

Well, the procession seems to have moved on to another part of town, leaving us with just the usual level of background hum. My chicken caesar salad – like the coffee, satisfying without being amazing – is finished. And so too is my first Bahasa Indonesia lesson!

Better go pick up the lad. Sampai jumpa.

Edit: fixed some late night bleary-eyed editing mistakes.

Update:

Wow, I thought it was bad enough the day I wrote this post. But good grief, today is insane. Previously there was some respite between each procession. Today the tailing off of one group overlaps with the next coming. The noise is unbelievable.

Our poor friend Joani took a cab to the mall, and was trapped by the parades locking the city's roads down.


This is nuts. I guess being the last day today before the mandatory 3-day campaign silence means they are trying to make an big impression. Well, they certainly have for this weary-eared visitor.