A DUMMY’S GUIDE TO OZ DAY © Duncan Graham 2006
At last year’s Australia Day celebrations in Surabaya, organised by the Indonesia-Australia Business Council’s East Java branch, the MC asked the gathering a most embarrassing question:
“What does the day actually celebrate?”
A loud silence followed. There was much staring at the ceiling and scrutiny of fingernails before visiting Queenslander Rob Wardrobe (who represents his state in Jakarta) offered a mangled version of history.
Then everyone got back to the serious business of drinking lots of beer.
Cynics say there’s one true test for a genuine Australian: If he or she doesn’t know the second verse of the national anthem then they’re abso-bloody-lutely Dinky-Di.
Nationalism doesn’t go down too well with Australians despite the Federal government’s best efforts to instil national pride amongst school kids who have to grin and bear it. We’re happy to shout Ozzie-Ozzie-Ozzie when thrashing some other former colony at cricket, but shy from ostentatious displays of love for homeland.
It seems many Australians agree with the 18th century English writer Samuel Johnson’s aphorism: “Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.”
There’ll be a few flags fluttering outside suburban homes in Australia this Thursday and more at official offices. But nothing like the 17 August displays in Indonesia or the shows of Stars and Stripes in the US on any day.
Of course the Australian flag isn’t the most inspiring design, with the Union Jack prominent in the top corner. Can you imagine Malaysia, Singapore, India or even Canada retaining this symbol of their colonial past?
And if you can spot the difference between the Australian flag and its New Zealand counterpart you’re obviously an emblematist with excellent eyesight.
There’s even a national organisation called Ausflag dedicated to developing a new flag. Does any Indonesian want to change the Merah Putih?
Offerings range from the ludicrous to the ridiculous. The contribution of Melbourne artist and poet Michael Leunig has became the most famous: It shows a flag of corrugated iron, Australia’s ubiquitous all purpose roofing, fencing and building material.
Apart from the flag furore, the issue of republicanism usually gets exhumed at this time of the year.
At a referendum in 1999 Australians opted to retain the Queen of England as their head of state. Indonesians find this beyond belief and proof that their big neighbour remains a colony of Europe.
Trying to explain otherwise is just a waste of time as the incredulous have all logic on their side. Like the Queen’s image on coins and the $5 note.
Republicans want an Australian to be the Governor General or President. They’ve coined the proletarian phrase “A Mate for Head of State” to try and arouse the plebs, only to be greeted with a big yawn.
Even knowing the Queen will eventually give up Europe’s top job in favour of her big-eared son Charles and his big-haired consort Camilla doesn’t seem to excite anyone, unless it’s a giggle.
The prince’s peccadilloes in the dysfunctional royal family would challenge a sinetron scriptwriter. Despite this the Queen retains respect. The institution is powerless and therefore harmless, and it’s good for the tabloids.
So if nationalism can’t stir the possum Down Under, what can? Sport is the great arouser and Australia Day is a fine excuse to whack a ball around on the beach before watching a fireworks display and demolishing a few cartons of grog.
On January 26 1788 Captain Arthur Phillip took formal possession of the colony of New South Wales and became its first governor to the astonishment and later regret of the Aboriginal inhabitants of the Great South Land.
The dispossessed have now labelled 26 January as the Day of Mourning.
The official slogan is “Celebrate what’s great”. This is about as meaningful as a party political ad and just as grating.
Many think the event best forgotten and all energies put into Anzac Day, 25 April. This was when Australian troops first landed on Turkey’s Gallipoli Peninsula in 1915 in support of the “Mother Country” in her war with Germany and its allies.
Like Heroes’ Day on 10 November in Indonesia this is a solemn occasion to remember the dead of all wars who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Unlike Indonesia there are few war cemeteries. Australia’s battles have been fought overseas and the big graveyards, like the beautiful one at Tantui in Kota Ambon, are far from home.
Some politicians want 1 January remembered. On this date in 1901 Australia became the Commonwealth without recourse to bloodshed.
The proverb: “Happy is the country that has no history” may have been written by the mysterious and prolific Anon. But most Okkers would reckon he or she must have been an Aussie commenting on Godzone.
On what? In the Queen’s English this translates as: God’s Own Land.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 25 January 2006)
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FAITH IN INDONESIA
The shape of the world a generation from now will be influenced far more by how we communicate the values of our society to others than by military or diplomatic superiority. William Fulbright, 1964
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
GUNUNG KAWI
THE HILL OF SHARED FAITHS © Duncan Graham 2006
In a world of grim uncertainties The Jakarta Post can make a confident prediction about the end of this month when the Chinese and Islamic New Years are celebrated.
We’ll even toss in a handy tip: If you’re hoping for prosperity in the year to come and have pencilled in a trip to Gunung Kawi, plan well ahead.
For the sacred mountain will be crowded to the point where tinned sardines would complain. Guaranteed.
We’re not talking here about the dormant volcano of that name in Bali, but its namesake in East Java.
The roads up this mountain are a green delight with dense sugar cane, rice seedlings in rank and file, a snapshot of smiling sunflowers. Elephant ears nod in your slipstream. Fresh laundry clothes stone walls. Smoke wisps upwards from damp fires.
But if you’re driving don’t take your eyes off the narrow and twisting track to survey these pleasantries – or it may be the last thing you’ll see. The paths inside the complex are narrower still and the car parks chaotic. Take a calming pill or prepare to be tired, tense and mightily fractious.
Despite these corroding emotions the adventure will be worthwhile if you’re intrigued by the endless complexities of culture – and better still if your prayers are answered and riches tumble into your lap, like the leaves of the goddess tree.
Known to the secular as Equina Uniflora, (to Javanese as Dewa Ndaru and Chinese as Shian Tho) this rare bush is supposed to give good fortune to those who catch not a falling star but a tumbling leaf. In a fenced courtyard the true believers well fortified with patience squat on tiles waiting for the magic moment. For sceptics the exercise is as profitable as watching grass grow.
But the most remarkable thing is that the Chinese and Javanese share the sacredness of Gunung Kawi. Seeing Muslims cocooned in traditional Islamic dress mingling amicably with Chinese women flaunting their neon-white cleavages is one of the more pleasing sights in East Java.
The air is cool as the shrine is 650 metres up the 2550 metre high mountain. Enclosed by a shingle-roofed timber building are the tombs of the charismatic seers Kangdjeng Kjai Zakariake 11 (said to be related to 19th century rebel leader Prince Diponegoro) and Raden Mas Iman Soedjono.
The two men came from central Java to meditate on the mountain inspired by the environment. They lie in an alcove looking much like an altar; food and flowers have been left as offerings.
The custodian Haji R Candra Yana, sits hidden from public view with his back to the darkened auditorium where Chinese Buddhists, Confucians, Muslims and maybe some Christians sit with Javanese Muslims in traditional peci (black hats) to worship. Men and women are together as equals.
“This is not a mosque, nor is it a temple,” said Yana. “There is no place like it anywhere in Indonesia. Everyone is welcome. Unfortunately Western tourists rarely visit, though Chinese come from all over the world.”
Outside a Muslim ladles well water with claimed special healing properties into plastic mugs for the pilgrims.
Locals explained that while the Chinese non-Muslims did ask for business blessings, the Muslims were seeking forgiveness and favourable intercession by the seers in the individual’s relationship with God.
Sadly photography is forbidden so there’s no picture to illustrate this curious amalgam of faiths. This doesn’t get the approval of all Muslims, particularly those who adhere to the more arid Middle Eastern version of Islam, or who think fortune rewards only the diligent and tenacious.
For these people there’s a conventional mosque a few hundred metres from the tombs. Then there are temples for Buddhists. To visit these holy places means jostling along a narrow path of crippled beggars and equally aggressive vendors of charms and condiments, local handicrafts and the inevitable T-shirt and plastic toy trash. There’s also a fortune-teller’s shop. Every year about 126,000 people visit Gunung Kawi.
Ririen, who runs the 16-room Roro Hotel on Gunung Kawi and is a prominent urger for better facilities, claims some success for her lobbying; this dry season the local government has promised to widen the access road.
Her persuasive powers are backed by formidable credentials: Her family came to the mountain from the Yogyakarta kraton (palace) in the 18th century when the two mystics were mustering a following. Yogya is also the source of many Javanese rituals performed at Gunung Kawi.
“About 90 per cent of the people who stay in the hotels are Chinese,” she said. “The Javanese tend to pay a day visit. Most visitors are middle class and up. It would be good to broaden the tourist base.
“Apart from buying souvenirs and locally-grown cassava - which is the best in Indonesia - there’s not much to do when you’re not praying.”
With a colleague she’s put up a wish list of wanted facilities as investor bait, including a jogging track, camping ground, chair lift and fun-park. There are only eight hotels and most are small, so there’s a need for more accommodation.
It all sounds a bit Disney which would do little to enhance the sacredness of the place unless thoughtfully designed and kept well apart.
Gunung Kawi may have been established through divine direction, but a modicum of inspired planning and creation of space would do wonders.
(sidebar)
GONG XI FA CAI
It’s become an urban fad among the sinetron set to sing out Gong Xi Fa Cai (wishing you prosperity) along with the air kisses at this time of the year, though some older ethic Chinese might view the trend with cynicism.
Not long ago it was illegal to import or display anything written in Chinese characters, let alone make a song and dance of an event. The New Year could not be celebrated openly and Confucians were listed as Muslim on their identity cards.
Chinese were forced to take on Indonesian names. Many converted to Christianity. Few were able to preserve language and customs in their entirety, though most temples stayed open.
Thanks to former presidents Gus Dur and Megawati Sukarnoputri such controls have officially been lifted. However many Chinese say the edicts have not filtered down to bureaucrats in the regions, and that they are still subject to petty discrimination.
Nonetheless the New Year known as Imlek (29 January this year) is now a promulgated national holiday. It’s a moveable feast starting with the new moon and ending 15 days later with a lantern festival. The Chinese lunar calendar has a cycle of 29.5 days, a system developed more than 1,000 year ago.
The prominent color is red, which is supposed to intimidate a mythical people-eater called Nian, who is also susceptible to loud noises. Hence the firecrackers.
Barongsai, the spectacular lion dance, has suffered the fate of Father Christmas and been hijacked by the retail trade. The once forbidden performance can now be seen in many shopping malls.
The Chinese have been coming to Indonesia for centuries and from all parts of their country. Hence the differences in customs, food, language and religion.
Most New Year activities are based on ancient superstition, though that doesn’t mean modern Chinese are necessarily superstitious: It’s a time for a fresh start, to clear debts, to clean the house and give gifts.
More important it’s a time for families to come together. As in all cultures and religions the respectful celebration of relationships past and present, the thanksgiving for benefits and blessings, and the hope for more to come is universal.
So Gong Xi Fa Cai to you too, whatever your beliefs, culture or ethnicity. We could all do with a bit of prosperity because it’s going to be a dog of a year.
(Gunung Kawi can reached from Blitar or Malang. Travel times depend on the day, the weather and start times. Allow two hours from Malang. There’s no regular public transport.)
(First published in The Jakarta Post 24 January 2006)
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In a world of grim uncertainties The Jakarta Post can make a confident prediction about the end of this month when the Chinese and Islamic New Years are celebrated.
We’ll even toss in a handy tip: If you’re hoping for prosperity in the year to come and have pencilled in a trip to Gunung Kawi, plan well ahead.
For the sacred mountain will be crowded to the point where tinned sardines would complain. Guaranteed.
We’re not talking here about the dormant volcano of that name in Bali, but its namesake in East Java.
The roads up this mountain are a green delight with dense sugar cane, rice seedlings in rank and file, a snapshot of smiling sunflowers. Elephant ears nod in your slipstream. Fresh laundry clothes stone walls. Smoke wisps upwards from damp fires.
But if you’re driving don’t take your eyes off the narrow and twisting track to survey these pleasantries – or it may be the last thing you’ll see. The paths inside the complex are narrower still and the car parks chaotic. Take a calming pill or prepare to be tired, tense and mightily fractious.
Despite these corroding emotions the adventure will be worthwhile if you’re intrigued by the endless complexities of culture – and better still if your prayers are answered and riches tumble into your lap, like the leaves of the goddess tree.
Known to the secular as Equina Uniflora, (to Javanese as Dewa Ndaru and Chinese as Shian Tho) this rare bush is supposed to give good fortune to those who catch not a falling star but a tumbling leaf. In a fenced courtyard the true believers well fortified with patience squat on tiles waiting for the magic moment. For sceptics the exercise is as profitable as watching grass grow.
But the most remarkable thing is that the Chinese and Javanese share the sacredness of Gunung Kawi. Seeing Muslims cocooned in traditional Islamic dress mingling amicably with Chinese women flaunting their neon-white cleavages is one of the more pleasing sights in East Java.
The air is cool as the shrine is 650 metres up the 2550 metre high mountain. Enclosed by a shingle-roofed timber building are the tombs of the charismatic seers Kangdjeng Kjai Zakariake 11 (said to be related to 19th century rebel leader Prince Diponegoro) and Raden Mas Iman Soedjono.
The two men came from central Java to meditate on the mountain inspired by the environment. They lie in an alcove looking much like an altar; food and flowers have been left as offerings.
The custodian Haji R Candra Yana, sits hidden from public view with his back to the darkened auditorium where Chinese Buddhists, Confucians, Muslims and maybe some Christians sit with Javanese Muslims in traditional peci (black hats) to worship. Men and women are together as equals.
“This is not a mosque, nor is it a temple,” said Yana. “There is no place like it anywhere in Indonesia. Everyone is welcome. Unfortunately Western tourists rarely visit, though Chinese come from all over the world.”
Outside a Muslim ladles well water with claimed special healing properties into plastic mugs for the pilgrims.
Locals explained that while the Chinese non-Muslims did ask for business blessings, the Muslims were seeking forgiveness and favourable intercession by the seers in the individual’s relationship with God.
Sadly photography is forbidden so there’s no picture to illustrate this curious amalgam of faiths. This doesn’t get the approval of all Muslims, particularly those who adhere to the more arid Middle Eastern version of Islam, or who think fortune rewards only the diligent and tenacious.
For these people there’s a conventional mosque a few hundred metres from the tombs. Then there are temples for Buddhists. To visit these holy places means jostling along a narrow path of crippled beggars and equally aggressive vendors of charms and condiments, local handicrafts and the inevitable T-shirt and plastic toy trash. There’s also a fortune-teller’s shop. Every year about 126,000 people visit Gunung Kawi.
Ririen, who runs the 16-room Roro Hotel on Gunung Kawi and is a prominent urger for better facilities, claims some success for her lobbying; this dry season the local government has promised to widen the access road.
Her persuasive powers are backed by formidable credentials: Her family came to the mountain from the Yogyakarta kraton (palace) in the 18th century when the two mystics were mustering a following. Yogya is also the source of many Javanese rituals performed at Gunung Kawi.
“About 90 per cent of the people who stay in the hotels are Chinese,” she said. “The Javanese tend to pay a day visit. Most visitors are middle class and up. It would be good to broaden the tourist base.
“Apart from buying souvenirs and locally-grown cassava - which is the best in Indonesia - there’s not much to do when you’re not praying.”
With a colleague she’s put up a wish list of wanted facilities as investor bait, including a jogging track, camping ground, chair lift and fun-park. There are only eight hotels and most are small, so there’s a need for more accommodation.
It all sounds a bit Disney which would do little to enhance the sacredness of the place unless thoughtfully designed and kept well apart.
Gunung Kawi may have been established through divine direction, but a modicum of inspired planning and creation of space would do wonders.
(sidebar)
GONG XI FA CAI
It’s become an urban fad among the sinetron set to sing out Gong Xi Fa Cai (wishing you prosperity) along with the air kisses at this time of the year, though some older ethic Chinese might view the trend with cynicism.
Not long ago it was illegal to import or display anything written in Chinese characters, let alone make a song and dance of an event. The New Year could not be celebrated openly and Confucians were listed as Muslim on their identity cards.
Chinese were forced to take on Indonesian names. Many converted to Christianity. Few were able to preserve language and customs in their entirety, though most temples stayed open.
Thanks to former presidents Gus Dur and Megawati Sukarnoputri such controls have officially been lifted. However many Chinese say the edicts have not filtered down to bureaucrats in the regions, and that they are still subject to petty discrimination.
Nonetheless the New Year known as Imlek (29 January this year) is now a promulgated national holiday. It’s a moveable feast starting with the new moon and ending 15 days later with a lantern festival. The Chinese lunar calendar has a cycle of 29.5 days, a system developed more than 1,000 year ago.
The prominent color is red, which is supposed to intimidate a mythical people-eater called Nian, who is also susceptible to loud noises. Hence the firecrackers.
Barongsai, the spectacular lion dance, has suffered the fate of Father Christmas and been hijacked by the retail trade. The once forbidden performance can now be seen in many shopping malls.
The Chinese have been coming to Indonesia for centuries and from all parts of their country. Hence the differences in customs, food, language and religion.
Most New Year activities are based on ancient superstition, though that doesn’t mean modern Chinese are necessarily superstitious: It’s a time for a fresh start, to clear debts, to clean the house and give gifts.
More important it’s a time for families to come together. As in all cultures and religions the respectful celebration of relationships past and present, the thanksgiving for benefits and blessings, and the hope for more to come is universal.
So Gong Xi Fa Cai to you too, whatever your beliefs, culture or ethnicity. We could all do with a bit of prosperity because it’s going to be a dog of a year.
(Gunung Kawi can reached from Blitar or Malang. Travel times depend on the day, the weather and start times. Allow two hours from Malang. There’s no regular public transport.)
(First published in The Jakarta Post 24 January 2006)
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Monday, January 23, 2006
GUEST WORKERS
GETTING WORK DOWN UNDER © Duncan Graham 2006
When M Agung Susetyo opened his e-mail in Surabaya the message seemed incredible; the long-time jobless father of one had been offered high-pay work in Australia.
But this was no junk-mail scam; the message came from a former work supervisor when Susetyo was a TKI (Tenaga Kerja Indonesia), a blue-collar worker who had found employment overseas.
For three years Susetyo worked in a Brunei abattoir killing and processing cattle imported from Australia. The money he earned was sent back to his family in Jombang and helped educate his younger sister.
When the meat works closed he had to return to East Java and join the jobless. His one-time boss went back to Australia, but didn’t forget Susetyo.
The practice of exporting Indonesian labor and remitting salaries has been long established. More than 3.5 million are working overseas. Officially 12 per cent of the Indonesian workforce is unemployed, but NGOs claim the figure is much higher with millions underemployed.
Indonesian construction workers are building high rises in Malaysia and the Middle East. Maids in those countries, plus Singapore and Hong Kong are keeping homes and babies clean. TKI in Brunei, South Korea and Taiwan are doing the jobs locals shun.
But not in Australia, despite that country suffering a chronic labor shortage in many trades, particularly metalwork, hospitality, nursing and farming. Till now.
Earlier this year Australian Prime Minister John Howard rejected the idea of guest workers and knocked back pleas from Pacific Island governments to take their citizens. However since last July about 30,000 foreigners have quietly and legally entered the country’s workforce.
They’ve been using a little known Temporary Business (Long Stay) visa, known in the bureaucracy as a ‘457 visa’.
Under this scheme approved businesses that can prove they’re unable to find Australian staff are allowed to sponsor qualified overseas workers in good health and with no police record. The jobs offered must be on a list of ‘gazetted occupations’.
These cover managers, administrators, professionals and tradespersons. These headings break down to jobs as diverse as teachers, metallurgists, stage directors, confectioners and gardeners. More than 500 are listed.
Holders of ‘457 visas’ can stay for up to four years. After 30 months they have the chance to apply for permanent residency. In some cases they can bring their spouses and dependents who may also work and study.
However if the company closes or the worker isn’t satisfactory he or she has to return to their homeland.
Sponsor companies in the cities have to pay overseas workers AUD $39,000 a year (about Rp 24 million a month) but those in regional areas can get dispensation to pay lower rates.
Mike Smith, director of overseas employment agency YWA Global told The Jakarta Post that his company recruited heavily from the Philippines where many workers spoke English.
Only a few had come from Indonesia to work as halal slaughter men killing sheep and cattle for Muslim consumers. Vietnam and China were other popular sources for labor.
“With our company, recruitment costs including visas and air fares, are paid by the employer,” he said. “These can be up to AUD $8,000 (Rp 60 million) but the employers are desperate – they just can’t get staff.
“They get paid and treated the same as Australian employees. There’s no exploitation.” Smith’s agency is based in Western Australia, a state with less than four per cent of the workforce unemployed.
Labor unions in Australia have been wary of the scheme and claim the government should be doing more to train unemployed Australians. Some politicians have suggested that not all workers will voluntarily return home if their visas are cancelled.
But according to Immigration Department statistics Indonesia does not rank among the top ten countries whose residents overstay. And fears that Australia’s surging economy will falter without more workers have smothered most concerns.
Smith said the overseas workers had a good record of attendance and a strong work ethic. They had to pay tax and their own health insurance, but were covered by worker’s compensation for accidents on the job. Social welfare programs, like unemployment benefits and pensions, are not available to ‘457 visa’ holders.
“I don’t like the term ‘guest workers’. It gives the wrong impression,” Smith said. “Most of the people we bring here eventually want to become Australian citizens. I’ve been told that the labor shortages in Australia will continue for the next ten years.”
(More details on the 457 visas can be found at http://www.immi.gov.au )
(First published in The Jakarta Post 21 January 2006)
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">Link
When M Agung Susetyo opened his e-mail in Surabaya the message seemed incredible; the long-time jobless father of one had been offered high-pay work in Australia.
But this was no junk-mail scam; the message came from a former work supervisor when Susetyo was a TKI (Tenaga Kerja Indonesia), a blue-collar worker who had found employment overseas.
For three years Susetyo worked in a Brunei abattoir killing and processing cattle imported from Australia. The money he earned was sent back to his family in Jombang and helped educate his younger sister.
When the meat works closed he had to return to East Java and join the jobless. His one-time boss went back to Australia, but didn’t forget Susetyo.
The practice of exporting Indonesian labor and remitting salaries has been long established. More than 3.5 million are working overseas. Officially 12 per cent of the Indonesian workforce is unemployed, but NGOs claim the figure is much higher with millions underemployed.
Indonesian construction workers are building high rises in Malaysia and the Middle East. Maids in those countries, plus Singapore and Hong Kong are keeping homes and babies clean. TKI in Brunei, South Korea and Taiwan are doing the jobs locals shun.
But not in Australia, despite that country suffering a chronic labor shortage in many trades, particularly metalwork, hospitality, nursing and farming. Till now.
Earlier this year Australian Prime Minister John Howard rejected the idea of guest workers and knocked back pleas from Pacific Island governments to take their citizens. However since last July about 30,000 foreigners have quietly and legally entered the country’s workforce.
They’ve been using a little known Temporary Business (Long Stay) visa, known in the bureaucracy as a ‘457 visa’.
Under this scheme approved businesses that can prove they’re unable to find Australian staff are allowed to sponsor qualified overseas workers in good health and with no police record. The jobs offered must be on a list of ‘gazetted occupations’.
These cover managers, administrators, professionals and tradespersons. These headings break down to jobs as diverse as teachers, metallurgists, stage directors, confectioners and gardeners. More than 500 are listed.
Holders of ‘457 visas’ can stay for up to four years. After 30 months they have the chance to apply for permanent residency. In some cases they can bring their spouses and dependents who may also work and study.
However if the company closes or the worker isn’t satisfactory he or she has to return to their homeland.
Sponsor companies in the cities have to pay overseas workers AUD $39,000 a year (about Rp 24 million a month) but those in regional areas can get dispensation to pay lower rates.
Mike Smith, director of overseas employment agency YWA Global told The Jakarta Post that his company recruited heavily from the Philippines where many workers spoke English.
Only a few had come from Indonesia to work as halal slaughter men killing sheep and cattle for Muslim consumers. Vietnam and China were other popular sources for labor.
“With our company, recruitment costs including visas and air fares, are paid by the employer,” he said. “These can be up to AUD $8,000 (Rp 60 million) but the employers are desperate – they just can’t get staff.
“They get paid and treated the same as Australian employees. There’s no exploitation.” Smith’s agency is based in Western Australia, a state with less than four per cent of the workforce unemployed.
Labor unions in Australia have been wary of the scheme and claim the government should be doing more to train unemployed Australians. Some politicians have suggested that not all workers will voluntarily return home if their visas are cancelled.
But according to Immigration Department statistics Indonesia does not rank among the top ten countries whose residents overstay. And fears that Australia’s surging economy will falter without more workers have smothered most concerns.
Smith said the overseas workers had a good record of attendance and a strong work ethic. They had to pay tax and their own health insurance, but were covered by worker’s compensation for accidents on the job. Social welfare programs, like unemployment benefits and pensions, are not available to ‘457 visa’ holders.
“I don’t like the term ‘guest workers’. It gives the wrong impression,” Smith said. “Most of the people we bring here eventually want to become Australian citizens. I’ve been told that the labor shortages in Australia will continue for the next ten years.”
(More details on the 457 visas can be found at http://www.immi.gov.au )
(First published in The Jakarta Post 21 January 2006)
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006
INDONESIAN-AUSTRALIAN RELATIONSHIPS
WHO NEEDS A TREATY? © Duncan Graham 2006
The treaty now being negotiated between Australia and Indonesia raises some interesting questions: The foremost is – who benefits?
According to Australian media reports the long discussed document will cover counter-terrorism, fish poaching, people smuggling, disaster response and humanitarian assistance.
Few would disagree with the last three issues. Tsunami and landslip aid is in place and people smuggling has collapsed since the wave of refugees from Afghanistan and Iraq receded. The other issues are more debateable.
The problem of fish poaching needs a more sophisticated response than the present Australian policy of arrest, boat burning and jailing. Although the Australian fishing industry and some xenophobes are demanding tougher measures, it’s costly and unfair to jail poor fishermen pushed by syndicate bosses to risk their boats and freedom.
The few who are caught stay briefly in jail (see The Jakarta Post 29 December 2005) and are then flown home. They’re transported, fed, clothed, given legal aid and medical care all at Australian taxpayers’ expense – and this is supposed to be a deterrent.
Ross Taylor, chairman of the Western Australian branch of the Australian-Indonesia Business Council, has been trying to explain to an indifferent public that illegal fishing is not one of the Indonesia’s most pressing problems.
“Australia needs to work with Indonesia in a firm but cooperative way to firstly cut the market networks for the fish,” he said.
“We need to use our now excellent relations between the Australian Federal Police and Indonesia’s Police to infiltrate these syndicates, just as we have done with considerable success in the area of terrorism.”
On the surface boosting Indonesian security resources and training seems to be a Good Thing. Apart from the fanatics everyone’s against terrorism.
But if dissident and separatist movements in Indonesia get labelled as terrorists and Australian aid is used in brutal suppression, then the Australian electorate is likely to get jittery.
Using Australian communications technology to track fundamentalist bombers is one thing; applying this to assist the destruction of Papuan secessionists armed with bows and arrows is quite another matter.
It’s reported that at the heart of the proposed treaty is a pledge by Australia to never intervene in Indonesia’s internal affairs or undermine this nation’s territorial integrity.
Although this harks back to the liberation of East Timor, many forget that Australian involvement was hardened not by the government but the people, outraged at the savagery in the former province.
The Australian government can ink all the treaties it likes promising to respect the Unitary State of Indonesia. But in a democracy it can’t stop the Australian public, religious groups, human rights activists and non-government organisations backing separatist movements.
More than ten years ago former Prime Minister Paul Keating signed a secret security treaty with then President Suharto. When finally revealed after Keating lost office the agreement was roundly condemned, and torn up during the East Timor crisis of 1999.
Keating didn’t have the public behind him for his covert pact with the Orde Baru government. Does his successor John Howard have widespread support for the planned new collaboration?
Mainstream media reports in Australia have been positive so far though the fine print has yet to be seen. There has been some eyebrow raising over the already announced decision to lift a seven-year ban and train Kopassus soldiers in Australia.
The government says no troops with past records of human rights abuses will be involved. The intention, according to Defence Minister Robert Hill, is that Kopassus forces “might one day save Australian lives in Indonesia.”
The announcement was made in the December silly season when the priority was cricket and Christmas. Disquiet could come once activists and academics get back to the office and start probing the deal.
Although terrorists, poachers, corruptors and other Indonesian evildoers have got up the nose of the Australian public, President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono is still an Indonesian Idol Down Under.
He made a top impression during his official visit last year and as the public face of Australia’s big neighbor has so far enjoyed a positive press as a Good Bloke.
The fact that he’s a former military man leading a minority political party and has a local reputation for being indecisive has yet to sink into the Australian psyche.
So if the proposed treaty has President Susilo’s endorsement then the paper will probably get signed without too many questions raised.
But will it make any difference to the average person? Australia’s unlikely to cancel its travel warnings and the ordinary Okker will remain mightily distrustful of Islam.
Just as kampong dwellers fear the motives of the hedonistic, godless Westerners they hear about but seldom meet.
It’s all well and good for diplomats, soldiers, police and senior shiny bums to be patting each other’s shoulders in lavish signing ceremonies, but what about Ms and Mr Goodwill in Suburbia?
Most of us get on with neighbours, partners, in-laws and workmates without the need for a treaty.
But if it makes for a better world let’s have a treaty by all means: One which breaks down the misunderstandings, removes the investment barriers imposed by bureaucrats, and dissolves the differences between us.
Starting with cancellation of the obnoxious visa restrictions. By both sides.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 18 January 2006)
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The treaty now being negotiated between Australia and Indonesia raises some interesting questions: The foremost is – who benefits?
According to Australian media reports the long discussed document will cover counter-terrorism, fish poaching, people smuggling, disaster response and humanitarian assistance.
Few would disagree with the last three issues. Tsunami and landslip aid is in place and people smuggling has collapsed since the wave of refugees from Afghanistan and Iraq receded. The other issues are more debateable.
The problem of fish poaching needs a more sophisticated response than the present Australian policy of arrest, boat burning and jailing. Although the Australian fishing industry and some xenophobes are demanding tougher measures, it’s costly and unfair to jail poor fishermen pushed by syndicate bosses to risk their boats and freedom.
The few who are caught stay briefly in jail (see The Jakarta Post 29 December 2005) and are then flown home. They’re transported, fed, clothed, given legal aid and medical care all at Australian taxpayers’ expense – and this is supposed to be a deterrent.
Ross Taylor, chairman of the Western Australian branch of the Australian-Indonesia Business Council, has been trying to explain to an indifferent public that illegal fishing is not one of the Indonesia’s most pressing problems.
“Australia needs to work with Indonesia in a firm but cooperative way to firstly cut the market networks for the fish,” he said.
“We need to use our now excellent relations between the Australian Federal Police and Indonesia’s Police to infiltrate these syndicates, just as we have done with considerable success in the area of terrorism.”
On the surface boosting Indonesian security resources and training seems to be a Good Thing. Apart from the fanatics everyone’s against terrorism.
But if dissident and separatist movements in Indonesia get labelled as terrorists and Australian aid is used in brutal suppression, then the Australian electorate is likely to get jittery.
Using Australian communications technology to track fundamentalist bombers is one thing; applying this to assist the destruction of Papuan secessionists armed with bows and arrows is quite another matter.
It’s reported that at the heart of the proposed treaty is a pledge by Australia to never intervene in Indonesia’s internal affairs or undermine this nation’s territorial integrity.
Although this harks back to the liberation of East Timor, many forget that Australian involvement was hardened not by the government but the people, outraged at the savagery in the former province.
The Australian government can ink all the treaties it likes promising to respect the Unitary State of Indonesia. But in a democracy it can’t stop the Australian public, religious groups, human rights activists and non-government organisations backing separatist movements.
More than ten years ago former Prime Minister Paul Keating signed a secret security treaty with then President Suharto. When finally revealed after Keating lost office the agreement was roundly condemned, and torn up during the East Timor crisis of 1999.
Keating didn’t have the public behind him for his covert pact with the Orde Baru government. Does his successor John Howard have widespread support for the planned new collaboration?
Mainstream media reports in Australia have been positive so far though the fine print has yet to be seen. There has been some eyebrow raising over the already announced decision to lift a seven-year ban and train Kopassus soldiers in Australia.
The government says no troops with past records of human rights abuses will be involved. The intention, according to Defence Minister Robert Hill, is that Kopassus forces “might one day save Australian lives in Indonesia.”
The announcement was made in the December silly season when the priority was cricket and Christmas. Disquiet could come once activists and academics get back to the office and start probing the deal.
Although terrorists, poachers, corruptors and other Indonesian evildoers have got up the nose of the Australian public, President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono is still an Indonesian Idol Down Under.
He made a top impression during his official visit last year and as the public face of Australia’s big neighbor has so far enjoyed a positive press as a Good Bloke.
The fact that he’s a former military man leading a minority political party and has a local reputation for being indecisive has yet to sink into the Australian psyche.
So if the proposed treaty has President Susilo’s endorsement then the paper will probably get signed without too many questions raised.
But will it make any difference to the average person? Australia’s unlikely to cancel its travel warnings and the ordinary Okker will remain mightily distrustful of Islam.
Just as kampong dwellers fear the motives of the hedonistic, godless Westerners they hear about but seldom meet.
It’s all well and good for diplomats, soldiers, police and senior shiny bums to be patting each other’s shoulders in lavish signing ceremonies, but what about Ms and Mr Goodwill in Suburbia?
Most of us get on with neighbours, partners, in-laws and workmates without the need for a treaty.
But if it makes for a better world let’s have a treaty by all means: One which breaks down the misunderstandings, removes the investment barriers imposed by bureaucrats, and dissolves the differences between us.
Starting with cancellation of the obnoxious visa restrictions. By both sides.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 18 January 2006)
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Tuesday, January 17, 2006
BIRD LOVERS
LICENSED TO TRILL: THE BIRDMEN OF SAWOJAJAR
© Duncan Graham 2006
They gather at dawn twice weekly to sing up the sun. After unpacking their precious cargoes they send them heavenwards and trust that odes of joy will cascade in gratitude.
For this they also hope for rich rewards hereafter.
But the men who gather for this regular ritual are not members of some mystic sect destined to be dispersed by the self-appointed custodians of religious righteousness. Their business has the authenticity of international acceptance coupled to a tradition dating back to the Majapahit Era, 700 years past.
These men are the disciples of birdsong and they’re professional. Later this year when an international contest is held the winner will be very well off indeed.
“We’re maintaining a culture of appreciating nature that’s been in East Java for centuries,” said Haji Soelaiman, chairman of P3SI. “Although a few women sometimes come along and bring cakes and drinks, this is really an interest for men.
“We have about 200 members in and around Malang, and there’s another club in Surabaya.”
P3SI stands for Persatuan Pelestarian Perkutut Se Indonesia (Association for the Conservation of Turtledoves in Indonesia) and it’s clearly no fly-by-night organisation. Next year it celebrates its 50th anniversary.
Although called turtledoves, the delicate little birds with black-striped throats look remarkably like the doves cooing and preening in the gardens and parks of the Western Australian capital Perth. There they’re known as Senegal doves and are believed to have been introduced from India in the 19th century.
While the doves fly wild in Australia and are often considered a nuisance, in Java they are serious money. A coo-master is no featherweight; aficionados are prepared to pay up to Rp 150 million (US $15,000) for a top-flight prize winner.
That was the sum pocketed by P3SI member Hasan Fajar for his little cock Jambrud (Emerald). In 2004 Jambrud won his proud owner a new car in an international contest, outsinging warblers from Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and the Philippines – and was then sold to another birdman.
But how do you pick a winner? “The judges select according to the voice and tone,” said Hasan who has 60 birds in his home aviary. “The doves are all male, and sing to attract females. They start around three months but can live many years. It’s a hobby, sure, but it’s also business.”
Hasan claims paranormal skills and trains his birds with an impressive repertoire of whistles, hums and twitters. Who knows what the birds make of his mouth music? They turn their heads quizzically and presumably wonder why their master doesn’t flap his wings and soar away.
The training ground is a park in Sawojajar on the outskirts of the central East Java town of Malang. Here a forest of steel gallows stands ready for the birds’ hanging.
They come in gaudy cells enamelled with exhortations in English like Will Be Choice; this reads more like a cigarette advertisement than a licence to trill.
Others are decorated with the most bizarre pictures. They include figures from the ancient texts of the Mahabharata and Ramayana through to pouncing eagles and purring pussies. Presumably these are to remind the feathered prisoners of the awful fate which waits should they peck and push their way through the wire mesh.
Inside conical cages they are winched high to sing for their breakfast in safety; in the wicked world beyond, red in beak and claw, these pampered pets lack skysmart survival skills. They’d become a predator’s snack in a trice.
Preening isn’t just a job for those with feathers. The men wear fancy embroidered jackets and tie these to the base of the poles to mark ownership while their birdies above open up their vocal chords.
The dove devotees sit on a grassy bank and suck cigarettes through hand-carved holders made of yellow bone. Most chat in Madurese. Depending on the weather they hang around for up to four hours comparing tone and pitch of their charges aloft attempting to seduce any passing ladybird.
Fat chance. Almost everything that flutters in East Java seems to have been pinged by air rifles, shot by catapults or caught by cats.
In English the doves’ song sounds like Coo-Coo, running up and down the scale, but the birdmen say it’s Kung Krus.
Like beauty, it’s in the ear of the beholder.
Whatever the phonetics, this is the soft sound of calm from a bird known everywhere as a symbol of peace and love. That’s worth celebrating in Sawojajar and beyond.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 16 January 2006)
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© Duncan Graham 2006
They gather at dawn twice weekly to sing up the sun. After unpacking their precious cargoes they send them heavenwards and trust that odes of joy will cascade in gratitude.
For this they also hope for rich rewards hereafter.
But the men who gather for this regular ritual are not members of some mystic sect destined to be dispersed by the self-appointed custodians of religious righteousness. Their business has the authenticity of international acceptance coupled to a tradition dating back to the Majapahit Era, 700 years past.
These men are the disciples of birdsong and they’re professional. Later this year when an international contest is held the winner will be very well off indeed.
“We’re maintaining a culture of appreciating nature that’s been in East Java for centuries,” said Haji Soelaiman, chairman of P3SI. “Although a few women sometimes come along and bring cakes and drinks, this is really an interest for men.
“We have about 200 members in and around Malang, and there’s another club in Surabaya.”
P3SI stands for Persatuan Pelestarian Perkutut Se Indonesia (Association for the Conservation of Turtledoves in Indonesia) and it’s clearly no fly-by-night organisation. Next year it celebrates its 50th anniversary.
Although called turtledoves, the delicate little birds with black-striped throats look remarkably like the doves cooing and preening in the gardens and parks of the Western Australian capital Perth. There they’re known as Senegal doves and are believed to have been introduced from India in the 19th century.
While the doves fly wild in Australia and are often considered a nuisance, in Java they are serious money. A coo-master is no featherweight; aficionados are prepared to pay up to Rp 150 million (US $15,000) for a top-flight prize winner.
That was the sum pocketed by P3SI member Hasan Fajar for his little cock Jambrud (Emerald). In 2004 Jambrud won his proud owner a new car in an international contest, outsinging warblers from Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and the Philippines – and was then sold to another birdman.
But how do you pick a winner? “The judges select according to the voice and tone,” said Hasan who has 60 birds in his home aviary. “The doves are all male, and sing to attract females. They start around three months but can live many years. It’s a hobby, sure, but it’s also business.”
Hasan claims paranormal skills and trains his birds with an impressive repertoire of whistles, hums and twitters. Who knows what the birds make of his mouth music? They turn their heads quizzically and presumably wonder why their master doesn’t flap his wings and soar away.
The training ground is a park in Sawojajar on the outskirts of the central East Java town of Malang. Here a forest of steel gallows stands ready for the birds’ hanging.
They come in gaudy cells enamelled with exhortations in English like Will Be Choice; this reads more like a cigarette advertisement than a licence to trill.
Others are decorated with the most bizarre pictures. They include figures from the ancient texts of the Mahabharata and Ramayana through to pouncing eagles and purring pussies. Presumably these are to remind the feathered prisoners of the awful fate which waits should they peck and push their way through the wire mesh.
Inside conical cages they are winched high to sing for their breakfast in safety; in the wicked world beyond, red in beak and claw, these pampered pets lack skysmart survival skills. They’d become a predator’s snack in a trice.
Preening isn’t just a job for those with feathers. The men wear fancy embroidered jackets and tie these to the base of the poles to mark ownership while their birdies above open up their vocal chords.
The dove devotees sit on a grassy bank and suck cigarettes through hand-carved holders made of yellow bone. Most chat in Madurese. Depending on the weather they hang around for up to four hours comparing tone and pitch of their charges aloft attempting to seduce any passing ladybird.
Fat chance. Almost everything that flutters in East Java seems to have been pinged by air rifles, shot by catapults or caught by cats.
In English the doves’ song sounds like Coo-Coo, running up and down the scale, but the birdmen say it’s Kung Krus.
Like beauty, it’s in the ear of the beholder.
Whatever the phonetics, this is the soft sound of calm from a bird known everywhere as a symbol of peace and love. That’s worth celebrating in Sawojajar and beyond.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 16 January 2006)
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Wednesday, January 11, 2006
POLICE FORENSICS
KEEPING UP WITH THE CRIMS: EAST JAVA’S FORENSIC SLEUTHS
© Duncan Graham 2006
When pictures of the aftermath of the first Bali bomb were televised, Australian Foreign Minister Alexander Downer expressed his annoyance to journalists.
Crowds of people were picking through the debris seeking souvenirs and stickybeaking. Where were the police lines? Why wasn’t the site secure? What chance of finding evidence?
In this case his fears were unfounded as the bombers were caught and convicted. But his worries are also shared by Bambang Setiawan, head of the Police Forensic Laboratory in Surabaya.
“It’s one of the many concerns we have and which frustrate investigations,” he said. “Officers in the field need to be aware that crime scenes must be preserved intact and onlookers kept away. It’s another aspect of training.”
Forensics aren’t at the sharp end of police duties. Most who chose a career in crime-fighting prefer the adrenalin rush of a high-speed chase, a shoot out, a dash in the dark to nab a felon.
Laboratory work is quiet and methodical; it’s cerebral, not muscular. It means wearing rubber gloves rather than a holster, peering down microscopes, analysing chemicals, thinking deeply and cleverly to outsmart the cunning crims. It’s often boring and lonely.
But when the results gain convictions even the most heavy-fisted cop from the school of hard knocks has to pause in admiration for his tertiary-trained colleagues.
The Surabaya lab investigates cases from across East Java and much of Kalimantan, a catchment area of more than 42 million people. To handle this workload Bambang has only 40 scientists and technicians, and just a few machines.
But help is on its way. Eighteen months ago experts from the US Department of Justice visited Surabaya and reported on the lab.
They found that while Bambang was respected and his colleagues had depth of experience, knowledge and skill, much equipment was outdated.
This year the lab expects high tech replacements under a program called the International Criminal Investigative Training Assistance Program. (ICITAP)
They’ve already received a nifty piece of gear that can compare bullets and cases. Was this the gun that killed? Test fire the weapon and slip the recovered projectile under one microscope and the slug from the deceased under another lens to see if they match.
The miniscule grooves and scratches made as the bullet whizzes down the barrel, magnified thousands of times, can be as revealing as a fingerprint or DNA sample.
The need for updating in the lab was made clear when arson expert Didik Subiyantoro tried to show The Jakarta Post scenes and evidence from last year’s siege at Batu when police killed fugitive bomb maker Azahari. Crash! A virus had infected the computer.
“Our virus protection is out of date and we haven’t got the money for a new version,” said Bambang.
“White collar criminals are often well educated and skilled in technology. We have to keep up with them and hopefully get ahead. Scientific crime investigation in Indonesia must develop further.”
His point was reinforced in the counterfeit section where Indiyani Budhiarti feeds US $100 bills through a machine that detects dud money. But it can’t pick genuine American notes printed since 2003. Her collection of seemingly flawless Rp 100,000 fakes is a tribute to the extraordinary skills of modern forgers and a warning to bank tellers and cashiers everywhere.
In another room Fadjar Septi Ariningsih puts urine samples from suspected druggies, suspicious powders out of travellers’ baggage and substances found in bomb factories through a gas chromatograph mass spectra machine. Azahari’s Batu hideout included a complex collection of unlabeled chemicals scattered among the debris. All had to be identified.
“There is no forensic academy in Indonesia, and that’s a major deficiency,” said Bambang. “We need staff with specialist training – I could employ up to 100 if I had the technology.
“A priority is equipment to test DNA samples and I hope this will arrive soon through the ICITAP scheme. At the moment we can’t analyse voices, hair or fibre.”
The lab staff have qualifications in pharmacology, chemistry and physics. Because no two cases are the same they have to keep open minds and reject the obvious solutions. Was he poisoned or did he die of natural causes? Either could be correct. If the death was violent was the toxin administered by others or the victim? If by others, with his permission? Or was it an accident? The questions go on and on.
People who work daily on grim and ghastly tasks often develop a lively cheerfulness to offset the horror of humanity’s inhumanity, and it’s the same with Bambang’s team. They’re the first called in after the fire has been quenched, the deaths confirmed and the bomb exploded.
They collect samples and take the pictures. Because these are carefully shot for evidence they’re sickening in their freshness and clarity. Hunched over a computer for hours peering at shattered cadavers and entrails splattered across walls, phials of putrid samples at your elbow, is not a task for the squeamish.
In this job you either develop a cheerful buoyancy, become detached and cynical, or go mad. Fortunately Surabaya’s police forensic scientists have chosen the first approach and are likely to remain sane.
Particularly if the new equipment arrives soon.
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(First published in The Jakarta Post 11 January 2006)
">Link
© Duncan Graham 2006
When pictures of the aftermath of the first Bali bomb were televised, Australian Foreign Minister Alexander Downer expressed his annoyance to journalists.
Crowds of people were picking through the debris seeking souvenirs and stickybeaking. Where were the police lines? Why wasn’t the site secure? What chance of finding evidence?
In this case his fears were unfounded as the bombers were caught and convicted. But his worries are also shared by Bambang Setiawan, head of the Police Forensic Laboratory in Surabaya.
“It’s one of the many concerns we have and which frustrate investigations,” he said. “Officers in the field need to be aware that crime scenes must be preserved intact and onlookers kept away. It’s another aspect of training.”
Forensics aren’t at the sharp end of police duties. Most who chose a career in crime-fighting prefer the adrenalin rush of a high-speed chase, a shoot out, a dash in the dark to nab a felon.
Laboratory work is quiet and methodical; it’s cerebral, not muscular. It means wearing rubber gloves rather than a holster, peering down microscopes, analysing chemicals, thinking deeply and cleverly to outsmart the cunning crims. It’s often boring and lonely.
But when the results gain convictions even the most heavy-fisted cop from the school of hard knocks has to pause in admiration for his tertiary-trained colleagues.
The Surabaya lab investigates cases from across East Java and much of Kalimantan, a catchment area of more than 42 million people. To handle this workload Bambang has only 40 scientists and technicians, and just a few machines.
But help is on its way. Eighteen months ago experts from the US Department of Justice visited Surabaya and reported on the lab.
They found that while Bambang was respected and his colleagues had depth of experience, knowledge and skill, much equipment was outdated.
This year the lab expects high tech replacements under a program called the International Criminal Investigative Training Assistance Program. (ICITAP)
They’ve already received a nifty piece of gear that can compare bullets and cases. Was this the gun that killed? Test fire the weapon and slip the recovered projectile under one microscope and the slug from the deceased under another lens to see if they match.
The miniscule grooves and scratches made as the bullet whizzes down the barrel, magnified thousands of times, can be as revealing as a fingerprint or DNA sample.
The need for updating in the lab was made clear when arson expert Didik Subiyantoro tried to show The Jakarta Post scenes and evidence from last year’s siege at Batu when police killed fugitive bomb maker Azahari. Crash! A virus had infected the computer.
“Our virus protection is out of date and we haven’t got the money for a new version,” said Bambang.
“White collar criminals are often well educated and skilled in technology. We have to keep up with them and hopefully get ahead. Scientific crime investigation in Indonesia must develop further.”
His point was reinforced in the counterfeit section where Indiyani Budhiarti feeds US $100 bills through a machine that detects dud money. But it can’t pick genuine American notes printed since 2003. Her collection of seemingly flawless Rp 100,000 fakes is a tribute to the extraordinary skills of modern forgers and a warning to bank tellers and cashiers everywhere.
In another room Fadjar Septi Ariningsih puts urine samples from suspected druggies, suspicious powders out of travellers’ baggage and substances found in bomb factories through a gas chromatograph mass spectra machine. Azahari’s Batu hideout included a complex collection of unlabeled chemicals scattered among the debris. All had to be identified.
“There is no forensic academy in Indonesia, and that’s a major deficiency,” said Bambang. “We need staff with specialist training – I could employ up to 100 if I had the technology.
“A priority is equipment to test DNA samples and I hope this will arrive soon through the ICITAP scheme. At the moment we can’t analyse voices, hair or fibre.”
The lab staff have qualifications in pharmacology, chemistry and physics. Because no two cases are the same they have to keep open minds and reject the obvious solutions. Was he poisoned or did he die of natural causes? Either could be correct. If the death was violent was the toxin administered by others or the victim? If by others, with his permission? Or was it an accident? The questions go on and on.
People who work daily on grim and ghastly tasks often develop a lively cheerfulness to offset the horror of humanity’s inhumanity, and it’s the same with Bambang’s team. They’re the first called in after the fire has been quenched, the deaths confirmed and the bomb exploded.
They collect samples and take the pictures. Because these are carefully shot for evidence they’re sickening in their freshness and clarity. Hunched over a computer for hours peering at shattered cadavers and entrails splattered across walls, phials of putrid samples at your elbow, is not a task for the squeamish.
In this job you either develop a cheerful buoyancy, become detached and cynical, or go mad. Fortunately Surabaya’s police forensic scientists have chosen the first approach and are likely to remain sane.
Particularly if the new equipment arrives soon.
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(First published in The Jakarta Post 11 January 2006)
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