Semua Bisa Di Atur. The Four Words That Make Indonesia Work.
Indonesia, you’re puzzle, an enigma, a complex algorithm, a place full of wonder, a Pandora’s box, whose contents baffle and confuse those who choose to make your shores their ‘home.’
Each time I look at a map I am always amazed just how huge you are.
To the uninitiated it’s a lot to take in; seventeen thousand islands, five thousand one hundred and sixty kilometers east to west, over sixty archipelagos, that lie like broken spines in seas so azure, so unbelievably vibrant they are almost too beautiful to look at. And, all of this surrounded by majestic volcanoes and mountains whose sole purpose seems to be to try and reach up and touch a sky, delicious with stars.
If you allow it, Indonesia will slowly seduce you with her charms and her beauty and when you have succumbed she will call like a plaintive siren from the sea each time you try and leave her. It takes no time at all to become ensnared in her intriguing web.
What is it that makes her so appealing, so intriguing so beguiling and at times so tortuously frustrating? I ponder this point a lot lately. I suspect my initial feelings of intense desire have moved into what has become a long- term love affair, with all of the baggage that comes with it.
I’ve been a wanderer for most of my life, drifting aimlessly like flotsam from county to country sometimes putting down tentative roots while children were raised and careers pursued, yet all the time thinking, “where to next”? The taproot seemed never to be strong enough to hold me in that particular place’s soil and now its is time to test Indonesia’s to see if she will take me into her heart.
I’m often asked, “ Why Indonesia?” These days I simply answer, “ Semua bisa di atur.” (Anything can be arranged) These four words to me sum up everything that is good in this country. If I were president I would try to have them etched into the constitution and woven into the national flag. Its right up there in the positivity stakes with that all time great copy line, “Just do it.”
Counties everywhere contain, within their borders that most precious of all commodities, its people, as does Indonesia with its nearly three hundred million souls occupying over six thousand of its islands. The diversity of cultures, religions, languages and thousands of dialects go a long way towards the making up the complex puzzle that is at the core of this great nation.
If I lived here for the rest of my life I would be able to glean only a tiny glimpse of how it functions because, quite simply, it just does! To an outsider, it’s customs, it’s way of life is a little like trying to decipher a intricate map that can only be navigated the “Indonesian way,” for any other way will lead to paths that head nowhere. Of course, virtually everybody will try to help guide you through your early, torturous months and of course each one will have a completely different view and an even more confusing set of instructions to follow.
Lately I have come to understand the two basic fundamentals that dominate every strata of society throughout the country, faith and family and not necessarily in that order. These two values are the glue that binds together millions of people, many of them so very different in terms of language, beliefs and even appearance and yet they are all one thing, ‘Indonesians.’
I am a foreigner in a foreign land and no matter how long I stay here I will always be a foreigner but not necessarily an outsider. The spirit of giving, and acceptance must be part of the nation’s collective DNA as I encounter such genuine hospitality and generosity of spirit wherever I go.
The majority of my life to date has been spent in countries where its citizen’s worship at that alter of ambition whose goals are the pursuit of money, power and status and beware those who happen to get in the way. Age is not revered in the way it is in Indonesia. In the ‘west,’ the old and the infirm become an irritant, to be stashed away in soulless institutions with dishonest names like ‘ Tranquility Gardens, or ‘Peaceful Meadows. There the aged will live out their twilight years surrounded only by those as ancient as they are, bereft of family.
When I first arrived I used to walk the streets of my neighborhood and cries of “Pagi Papa,” would greet me from doorways and windows. I was a little taken aback at the audaciousness of those who would glibly refer to my age. Now I know that it is a term of respect as I supposedly have an abundance of wisdom and now, I wear that particular salutation like a badge of honour.
Here, old people are cool…. I think!
It’s easy for a newly arrived resident to don a pair of rose -coloured glasses and gaze through the tinted lenses at this strange new world seeing only the things one wants to see. It’s not ‘perfect’ here for no place anywhere can attain that lofty perch. I battle with the learning of a new language, I struggle to make sense of what should be simple, straightforward paperwork, and along the way I learn to have infinite patience.
Should I stumble when confronted with what seems to be an insurmountable problem a few will gather, then a few more, a long chat will ensue and with smiles all round, they will look at me and say, Don’t worry papa, “ “Samua bisa di atur”
I do so love it here!
All Photos copyright Paul v Walters
