Finished before the end of the week, as promised (although I was really cutting it close not going to lie)
It's actually so nerve-wracking to submit something that everyone can see. I'm not a very good writer (I'm a creative thinker, but find it hard to put stuff into words) and am much better at essays. Constructive criticism is always good :-) and this is totally unedited.
1. Bit of a heads up - I don’t have enough to make this piece a set of journal entries, so it was formed into a narrative.
2. How do I make this flow better? I reckon everything is very inconsistent and it stops and starts in places.
3. As this is a personal discovery, I feel like I’m just saying what happened as it happened, how do I do show, not tell? I don't think I've made the discovery very obvious - how do I fix that?
4. Sometimes I change perspective, i.e. first to second person. I do this because that’s my thought process on how I would tell someone how something happens. How do I stop doing this?
5. If I resubmit this, is that another 25 posts? (and how many other things can I submit? I think it's 5 if I'm counting correctly, because I've been hoarding all my posts for stuff to be marked closer to the hsc)
story here
Australia.
Year 10 Geography taught me that urban decline is the deterioration of the inner city, most of the time, seen in buildings.
Year 10 Geography had a compulsory excursion (something I definitely didn’t look foward to), which required the year to look at the local area, and examine places that had urban decline.
I don’t know what I was expecting - ruins? Buildings that were half up, half down, like the Parthenon, or even the Colosseum? What I did see, however, were buildings that were still standing. Across the back of these buildings was black, slowly creeping around the edges of some buildings, showing evidence of some sort of decay. Brick buildings were not exactly red, but washed out, as a result of many years of use.
Urban decline? Nothing but a concept.
*****
Indonesia.
Stepping off the plane, I could feel the density of the air, constantly thickening, another layer on top of my skin, constantly thickening as I walked through the airport. Not even the numerous air conditioners could remove the sticky feeling from my skin.
Outside, the gravelly sky blanketed the almost non-existent blue sky. The dreariness of the outside didn’t seem to worry anyone, with yells coming left, right and centre, from people wishing to help with placing luggage in cars.
Smarttraveller.com.au told me to ‘travel with caution’ in this country, and to appeal to surroundings to be safe. Was there reason to let these people help? Nah, my subconscious said, who knows they’d want to steal your stuff?
I was frustrated enough with the weather, I was tired, hungry, and just wanted to go home. My excitement had faded.
*****
Driving was a different experience. Any concept of ‘urban decline’ was far from what could be seen in Australia. Metal squares, arranged into something far from stable, was considered a house. Fragile wooden structures, covered by flimsy plastic, which could easily fly away? That could be a restaurant. Everything contradicted Australia, and I didn’t like it.
Bendungan Jago was a walk through a mismatched puzzle. Small houses, big houses. Shops. Balconies without a barrier or ledge. Cars were scarce, and instead, the street was filled with motorcycles, wedging between small gaps. Although I’d been to the house before, it was still a sight to see. It towered over me, looming over the street, balconies opening far and wide. It was painted the colour of a washed out sunset, which contradicted the rest of the street as the only uniform building which had a solid structure, unlike the rest.
Running up and down the stairs, standing on the balcony, looking out, the inconsistency of the city revealed itself to me, backed by the grainy, blended colours of pink-ish orange, which didn’t shimmer, but was just dull. By this time, fatigue had caught up to me, and all I wanted to do was sleep and be alone.
The main difference between Indonesia and Australia was that I was surrounded by noise, everyday. There were suddenly 5 more people in a household, which led to a whole lot of noise everywhere and it was just so annoying I wanted to get out.
However, getting out in Indonesia called for approximately 251 shopping trips in 2 weeks, where these shopping centres had been meticulously manufactured to separate itself from the rest of the city. There was nothing to do, except for roam around shopping centres, heightening my intense boredom which just wouldn’t go away.
*****
People in Indonesia don’t have what one would call a ‘regular shower.’ Assuming there’s (clean) running water, that goes into a huge container thing, then this water goes into a smaller bucket, which you then pour over yourself. At best, this method of ‘showering’ was inconvenient, but there was an issue with this - you had to have the water keep running so the bucket didn’t get too empty, because waiting for the bucket to refill took time and effort.
Not going to lie, this method of showering was so unusual at first, but gradually turned into something fun - except for having to wait for the water to refill.
The one day, the water stopped running, and everyone had to use a substitute tap, where the water took so bloody long to get out. What I didn’t know was here, water was sourced from the ground, and passing of a couple of decades could mean that there would be a total shortage of water. There was the possibility of the ground shrinking as the water was slowly taken out of the ground, but the scientific specifics were lost on me by that point.
*****
Tourist spots were carefully groomed. I can only remember two places: Lembang and Monas.
Lembang was a small town about 2-3 hours from Jakarta. I had never been outside of Jakarta, except for a couple of places on another island, within my many trips to Indonesia. This was very exciting, but upon arrival at the accommodation, any bright, positive thoughts were out the window.
It looked, felt, and smelt like absolute crap. Nothing was clean, there was barely any electricity, leaking taps… the list went on.
For the huge family that had come, it was a downer, with most of us having to sleep in the living room to avoid the scattered mould in one bedroom. Despite the disappointing situation, they were all happily walking around, making the best of what was there. I could see the complaints being held back, but at that time, being with each other was more important.
Monas, on the other hand, was a small tower, with a couple of hectares for a tiny tower in the middle, flowers gardens, and displays of traditional art. The inside had several levels, one of which was a dioramic timeline, showing the history of Indonesia. Another level showed the various stages of achieving independence.
Independence could be seen through the two sections of Jakarta, viewed from level 2 of the outside of Monas. Two clearly different sections of the city. The foreground showed newly-built high rise buildings, neatly arranged, with fresh trees between gaps in separating each building. There was a fine line between this set of buildings, and the background, where various stages of half collapsed buildings blended into each other, shaded by the dreary clouds, as they blended into the horizon.
If urban decline wasn’t evident then, it was now. The equator, the invisible line, clearly separated two sections of the city, and a gasp of ‘wow, look at the view’ was not in admiration, but bitterness, where there could be nothing less enjoyable than looking out, only to see gradual dilapidation of a city.