Thursday 17 March 2011

Kupu-kupu malam

Everyone has his/her story and reasons to do or not to do something. Having dreams and desires is a right, not privilege. Approval and judgment from others are not required.
This short story is for the working girls in Jakarta and around the world. I may not agree with what you’re doing, I respect your rights.
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Traffic in Jakarta city is moving slowly on Friday night. Most of the left lane is occupied by street hawkers and small buses. It is the familiar scene to Ade who is staring blankly out from the Bluebird taxi. Her mind is somewhere else, in a place where she lies on green field surrounded by white, snow capped mountains. A place where the clear blue sky is decorated with pure white clouds.

She was born in a small town on the Island of Sulawesi and moved to the capital with a dream. In the first 2 years, she worked hard at a hair salon and tried hard to save as much money as she could. Then, a friend made her realize that in order to have more money, she had to make more and not just by saving them.

Her friends initiated her into a world unknown to a timid country girl, a world where she could receive 2 weeks’ worth of her salary at the salon in a few hours, a world where she didn’t need qualifications to compete, and a world where she just needed to smile and get really close with strangers.

In a few months time, she had learnt to speak comparatively good English and started to frequent some of the pubs and lounges at 5-star hotels where she could meet foreigners with fat wallet. Life was easy. She quit her day job at the hair salon, moved to a better kos (hostel) and still had enough money to buy new clothes and shoes.

"I don’t entertain everyone but the ones who I like." She always told herself this, as if to convince and justify her own action. Behind her back, people called her “kupu-kupu malam” (night butterfly). In a city where everyone was struggling to make do amid the ever increasing standard of living, having money was all that counted. She was convinced.


Ade’s world changed after she met Patrick at the CJs pub in Mulia Hotel. He was young, good looking and well mannered. Unlike the other bule (white skinned foreigners), he showed respect for her and didn’t feel her up in public. They were sitting at the noisy pub and were talking for almost 2 hours before going back to his apartment.

He called her the next day and soon she was living with him for the next few weeks. That was the happiest time in Ade’s 25 years of live. She would wait for him to come back from work and went out for dinner together. He told her stories of his trips to many parts of the world, places where she hadn’t heard of. He gave her a poster of splendid snow capped mountains under clear blue sky, which Ade found so beautiful and peaceful.
"Himalaya mountains. They’re the tallest mountains in the world" Patrick told her.
She kept it and wished she could visit the place one day.

One day, Patrick came home and told her he was going back to Australia the next day. Ade cried and he promised to come back for her in a few weeks time. They made passionate love whole night as if it was the last.
Just like that, Patrick disappeared from her life and she never heard from him since. She was sad for a few weeks and when her money ran out, she went back to her former life.

“You just need to switch back, just like flicking a light switch. Life goes on, honey” Her good friend Tias used to advise her.
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Ade gets off the taxi at the Le Meridian Hotel and heads directly to the famous “Tiga Puluh Pub”. Some of her friends have arrived earlier and are mingling in the Friday night crowd.

She scans the floor and makes a mental note on the potential clients. As usual, she filters those she doesn’t like at first sight. After that, she smiles and walks straight to the bar where she knows most of the clients will go to get their drinks. By experience, she understands this is a game of waiting and a balance of supply and demand.

She orders an orange juice and kept her distance from those girls dressed up in tight tops and short skirts. In contrary, she dresses up discreetly in white t-shirt and tight jeans, which make she stand out amid the other overly exposed girls.

A middle age white man of average build smiles at her and she smiles back. He walks over and says “Hello, what’s your name?” she smiles again and says “I m Linda, where are you from?”
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Ade gets up from her bed and sits down at the small table. She pushes away the kettle and some old magazines to make room for her daily letter writing.

“Dear Patick,
It rained heavily last night and Jakarta traffic was very bad as on every raining Friday night. I had a wonderful dream. We were drinking tea in a small hotel built in the middle of a green field. The white mountains were very close and we could see them from the hotel. The hotel owner was singing while he was making pan cakes for us. Everyone in the hotel was smiling and happy. The air was cool and fresh, just the same like it was at the Puncak tea plantation we visited together.
Sometimes, I wished we had made more outings together when you were in Jakarta. But that’s OK, I know you will remember me and come back to take me to visit your home in Australia. I long to see the green grass and white sheep you had told me so many times.
Love
Ade.”

She folds the letter carefully, puts it inside a light blue envelope and writes the date on it before sealing it. Slowly, with deliberate movements, she unlocks a small metal box and puts the letter on top of a pile that sits in the box. A poster of white snow capped mountains in wooden frame hangs above her bed.

After her shower, Ade sits down to make up and gets ready for her Saturday night.

On the streets, peddlers knock on car windows trying to sell bottled water and cigarettes. Beyond their blank and tired faces, they are probably thinking about dinner and school fees for their children.
In Jakarta, life goes on.

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