Ride through Hell

(Jakarta 13/5/98)

Jakarta was simmering with ethnic tension, it seemed pretty obvious what the next couple of days were going to bring to this metropolis.  We did not want to witnesses, participants nor a victims.  

Within minutes of arriving we bought a ferry ticket to the Sumatran city of Medan.  After a short deliberation we mustered up the courage to make our way to the port, which was on the other side of the city.

It took a long time to find a taxi driver that was willing to risk a trip across town.  The city was on a brink of exploding.  People were constantly telling us to go back to our hotel.

Broken windows in a bank

Jakarta is a vast city and at first we were amused by the puffs of smoke that adorned the skyline kilometres from us.  The situation was changing rapidly though. To get to the port we had to go through parts of town that were already suffering from public disturbances.

The first signs were a bit of litter burning on the road in front of us.  Then it was a couple of broken street signs and smashed windows in public buildings and finally a crowd of local residents turning us back. 

Jakarta's skyline

Having to detour, we came upon an angry crowd.  Our driver decided that it was too dangerous to drive though it and we decided to wait for it to pass.  We parked the taxi on the side of a soccer pitch.  Giving ourselves a buffer zone between us and the mob.

From a distance we saw them throw stones at a couple of local buildings, and try to set a car alight.  Then, for some reason they started heading towards us.  Their aim was a living compound that we parked our car next to.

Seeing a swarm of angry people waving crude weapons at us made me nervous.  Our driver seized control and gave me a hat to cover up my blond hair and motioned us towards the compound.  It made sense, at least there we would be out of sight of the mobsters.

Out of breath and with our backpacks we quickly ran into the first street.  To my horror, we ran into a human wall of ethnic Chinese armed with whatever they could find around their homes.  At the time this was the ethnic minority that was being persecuted by the Indonesians.

Our taxi driver, with mob in the background

I think they were as surprised as we were, and for an eternity no one moved.  I imagined next days front pages,  “Unruly mob attacks Chinese quarter, 2 westerners found amongst the dead”.

Self preservation carried me, I ran straight for the crowd, which suprisingly parted and we were able to sprint around the block back to the vicinity of our car.  Nervously we waited for another half an hour.  Eventually our driver found a young local that could take us out of this nightmare via a couple of side streets. 

Another half an hour later, we were in the port checking onto our boat to Medan.

Myself and the crazy Frenchman, Chris

Nick Mleczko (2/00)

© 2000 nick_mleczko@hotmail.com

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