In 1619 the Dutch East India Company established a trade post at the mouth of a small river called Ciliwung on Java’s north coast. They named the place Batavia. Today this is the part of Jakarta that is referred to as Kota Tua (Old Town). Let me take you on a little tour through this area of Dutch colonial reminiscence.

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A Brief History

When the Portuguese arrived in 1522, the mouth of Ciliwung river was a bustling port named Sunda Kelapa (Coconut of Sunda), ruled by the Hindu kingdom of Sunda. 1527 the city was conquered by the troops of two Muslim Sultanates under the command of Fatahillah. The Portuguese were expelled, and the place named Jayakarta (Victorious City).

The early 17^th century saw the arrival of Dutch and English traders who both established warehouses at the place. Tensions grew into a war, and in 1619 Dutch commander Jan Pieterszoon Coen with the backing of the Sultanate of Banten attacked Jayakarta and burned it to the ground. Subsequently, the Dutch founded a new town which they called Batavia. It later became the capital of the Dutch East Indies colony.

Kota Tua

When you leave the Jakarta Kota station, you are welcomed by an armada of green clad ojek drivers waiting for customers. From there it is about 100 meter down the street to Fatahillah Square, the center of Kota Tua.

The square is lined by neatly renovated buildings, some of them housing museums. The Sejarah Jakarta (History Museum) is situated on the south side, neighbored by the Wayang (Puppet) Museum. Gaudy bicycles with sunhats in matching colours are awaiting the tourists. As I arrived on a Monday morning, all the museums were closed. As an advantage, though, I was thus pretty much the only foreigner and you will not see crowds of tourists in my photos.

In the north-west corner of Fatahillah square the colonial style Café Batavia is a beautiful place to relax from the heat and enjoy a fine meal (if you can afford the rather high prizes of this establishment).

On the opposite bank of the Kali Krukut canal I spotted a very picturesque phantasy style building. Somebody said the style is Balinese but I really can’t tell. I could not find the house on Google maps so I assume it is a rather recent construction.

Not far from there stands one of the oldest houses of Jakarta, the Toko Merah (Red Shop) built in 1730. I must apologize for not having a guidebook with me, thus I wasn’t aware of that historical fact – and now I can show you only half of the Toko Merah!

Decay

Many historic buildings of Kora Tua, however, are not in a good condition. When you just turn around the corner of Fatahillah square, you will find houses like the one below.

The decline of Batavia began during the 18^th century. One problem was the health-situation which worsened probably due to the foul water of the canals in combination with the hot and humid climate. Outbreaks of tropical diseases like malaria threatened the people. Those who could afford it, moved to a newly founded estate to the south named Weltevreden (roughly todays Sawah Besar and Gambir subdistricts). Batavia fell into decay.

Authorities agreed on a plan to revitalize the Old Town in 2004. It gained momentum under Governor Joko Widodo in 2014, when sixteen historic buildings were restored. But a lot more must be done, as becomes the more obvious the farther you walk away from the central Fatahillah square.

Sunda Kelapa

The ancient port of the Sunda kingdom’s city of Jayakarta regained its name after independence. Even though it lost its importance after the construction of the new Tanjung Priok harbor in 1885, the Sunda Kelapa harbor is in use even today. You will find it walking north from the Kota Intan drawbridge along the Jalan Tongkol, a street busy with tent makers and other workshops.

Sunda Kelapa is nowadays the pier for the Indonesian Pinisi ships. These ancient types of boats reigned the seas of the archipelago before the advent of the colonial powers. They are still being constructed on the beaches around Bira in South Sulawesi by the expert builders of the local Bugis people.

At Sunda Kelapa they assemble in an impressive row of boats, proving their usefulness even today.

Facts

Date of travel: October 2019

Along the railroad tracks between Kota Tua and Sunda Kelapa, there is a line of slums where people live in heartbreaking conditions. Even though I shot some of the above photos right next to the slum, I did not notice it as the dwellings are very well hidden from view.

Next day, though, I went right there with the Jakarta Hidden Tour which is designed to create awareness by bringing visitors to the slums. You can read about this experience on my previous blog post.

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If you visit Jakarta, you can book a city tour which is probably totally different from any other tour you have been on before. It is offered by Ronny Poluan and his wife Anneke Rompas. They call it Jakarta Hidden Tour because they will guide you to places unseen in guidebooks and tourist promotions: the slums.

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Poverty as a touristic destination? Understandably a deterring thought for many visitors. Nobody wants to feel like a voyeur of misery. But you won’t be. To put it in Ronnie’s words: “You are not our tourist, you are our participant in the 3E development Project.” Where 3E stands for emergency, education, empowerment. Thus the 50 USD one must pay for the tour is regarded as a donation to the project and the people.

Our tour took about two to three hours and left me with a lot of contrary impressions. I felt elated by the beauty and kindness of the people living in conditions that are more than depressing.

Such a short excursion is not enough to derive at any founded conclusions. Thus, I will not even try to offer a coherent text for this blog but rather offer glimpses and fragments from the slums of Jakarta.

The Harbour Slum

The first place we visit is one of the many slums at the edge of the harbor, just opposite a quarter of fancy modern office towers, costly apartment buildings and a neat school for children whose parents can afford it.

I feel uneasy about this and other photos – because I find it beautiful. But then, who says there is not beauty in poverty? The image, however, can’t convey the stingy smell of the place. Nor any other pain.

Ronny Poluan is not, as I had assumed, a social worker but an artist. So, before we even start on the tour, we talk about how art can relate to poverty. “We once did a photo exposition about the slums. Wonderful black&white images of high intensity” Ronny says. “But I had an uneasy feeling. The people’s misery had become something aesthetical.”

But look at the man who draws nails from used timber planks. Is the human face not beautiful everywhere – like a lotus flower even though it grows in the mud?

I find the place busy with people trying to earn some money in any imaginable way. One guy has padded the luggage rack of his old bicycle. He waits for customers who want to be taken to places, nowadays mostly in vain, as he says: “Since the Gojek motorbikes (an Indonesian version of Uber) offer their cheap service, nobody wants to make use of my bike anymore.”

Using a bike as mobile restaurant is probably a better business model nowadays.

But not everybody finds work every day. When they don’t, young men gather in their “club house” to smoke, drink tea and chat. The “club” is but a wooden shelter with an old sofa and an even older mattress.

Ronny talks with the men about community affairs, when one man comes up giving an ardent speech. I can’t follow the topic, but assume it is political.  Maybe I am prejudiced by his gestures, the Che-Guevarra-shirt and the barbed wire tattoo around his neck.

As we enter the slum, children come running to join us on the tour. Ronny and Anneke know almost each one of them by name. They organize English classes for the children as part of the second E – education. Thus, each of the kids also introduces itself to me using the English phrases they have learned in these classes.

“Lately a colleague, another artist, called me and asked ‘Ronny, what are you now, an artist or an activist?’” It is not clear to me if Ronny is amused or rather annoyed by this question. What is art if it is void of compassion?

The first thing Ronny and Anneke showed me was the view of the slums from the other, the rich side of the harbor shore. This is how the slums are usually viewed – from a safe distance. People know that poverty is there, yet it is barely visible. It becomes an abstract problem. That is what is meant by ‘hidden’.

Ronny and Anneke help people to meet. This won’t change the world. But at least people will be more than abstract problems to each other. And after all, isn’t it only natural for people to meet? Indeed, it seems even more natural for the resident people than for most tourists. “I treat them as my guests,” says an old slum dweller into the microphones of a CNN camera on one of the tours, “and I believe they would do the same to me.”

Most welcoming, as always, are the kids. They love to chat using the little English they have learned and show their visitors around.

The Slum Reform Project

The next place we visit is a reform project. A dusty open square with small houses surrounding it. It looks neat compared to the slum before, yet also somewhat deserted.

A lot of colorful flags have been erected, a weak attempt, so it seems, to submit some feeling of joyfulness. “Once 400 families used to live at this place,” Ronny explains, “then the government demolished the slum.” Only about 100 families remained moving into the new sheds provided by the city. “The others were displaced.” It’s a disaster for those who can’t stay. There has been resistance against the demolition. As obvious, to no avail.

The city is pushing ahead social housing projects. “Under the rule of (now president) Widodo as mayor the city’s poor people have seen two highly beneficial improvements,” says Ronny. “Free schools and medical aid for everybody.” There is a catch, though: this holds only for those whose ID card proves them to be residents of Jakarta. A vast number, however, are not, even though they might have lived in the city for decades. Can’t they get ID cards? “Yes,” Ronny answers, “if they have a legal residence in town.” Most slum houses, of course, are not legal.

The man sings karaoke inside his home. A speaker outside the door makes it an entertainment for the neighbours, too.

While Ronny takes a rest, Anneke shows me around the quarter. At every door she talks with the people, and I see her handing some Rupiah notes to an old man who tells her about his current problems. The houses looked much more solid from a distance. Up close they are just thin wooden walls under a common tin roof that encloses small rooms with no ceiling. People have even less privacy here than in the former slum dwellings.

From the wall which confines the quarter one can see high rising social welfare housing. The government has promised to build such a building on the dusty central square of the demolished slum quarter. All families must pay a small monthly fee for the project, though nobody knows how long it may take to be realized.

The wall, however, has already been decorated with jolly sea life paintings.

Below the Tracks

The quarter at the harbor was busy and vivid, the reform project offered at least a glimpse of hope for a better future. The last place that Ronny and Anneke show me, however, sends a shiver down my spine.

At Kota Tua, the historic center and tourist highlight of Jakarta, we enter a narrow and gloomy hallway between two houses. At the end of it we walk up a ramp and stand beside the railway tracks.

Across the tracks people are housing in decrepit shacks. The sun is just about to set. Eager to catch the moment I raise my camera, when people shoo me from the track bed as a train is appearing fast from behind.

We climb down a few steps and stand in a cave. People live below the tracks in coves reaching into the groundwork of the railroad. This is the kitchen of the place.

A gloomy path with a small gully connects the coves. At it’s end it leads outside to the banks of a stinking river.

A young couple opens their shed for us to look inside. Their floor is covered by one mattress which fills the whole space, while they watch some show on a TV screen on the wall.

I don’t take a photo; it is too dark. Or is it rather that I am too ashamed as to intrude into that tiny bit of privacy of this couple? They smile. It is not the people here that are ashamed but rather us, the visitors. Yet again, it is the conditions that are eerie, while the people are wonderful. As Ronny stated in a documentary: “I love to see how the people manage to survive, how tough they are, and how peaceful their mind is.”

After a while of watching and chatting with the people we climb out of the cave and stand on a bridge that spans the slum dwellings. And I recognize the place. I was here yesterday when photographing the adjacent historic draw bridge, one of the touristic highlights of Jakarta’s Kota Tua. While doing so I was literally standing above the heads of the poor people, the hidden reality of this town.

See my following blog post about Jakarta’s Old Town (Kota Tua)

Facts

Date of Travel: October 2019

Ronny and Anneke’s website: Jakarta Hidden Tour

A very fine short movie about the tour by Ulf Krueger.

Cost of the tour: 50 USD donation to their projects per person

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