What a flight!

Miss World Contestants 1993

Frans Ellis, The Hague

Meintjeskop Courier Volum2 2, 1993

When I saw Steve Kruis's photograph of him handing a visa to Miss Poland to attend the Miss World Contest at the Lost City, in the Meintjeskop I thought, "Steve, if I could have clutched your neck between my fingers 'that' night..." However, it got me thinking of a better way to get back at my fellow 'visa handlers'. I would tell them about a special night and the consequences of their visa presentations, a night I would not forget for a while.

It started with a phone call from South Africa. I had to leave for Pretoria as soon as possible and made my "very short notice" arrangements. Rushed to the airport, said good-bye to mother and the kids and checked in. I was tired, it was day's end, and 10 hours of narrowness, bumps and cramps awaited me. It was also pouring with rain and a "stormkragt 9" wind was blowing across the tarmac at Schipol airport. I was hoping the dykes would keep until we were in the air. The airport is at least 5 meters under sea level.

At the check-in counter I asked "could you please put me in a very quiet spot". Reply - "helaas meneer, dat kan niet meer, de vlugt is vol". I had to take what I could get. While waiting at the exit before boarding, I noticed the SAA manager and walked up to say hello. "Frans, what a lucky man, your flight has been diverted via London. You are picking up some special people there". Oh no, an extra two hours flight. I never bothered to ask why or who these people were. Boarding, I noticed that the entire plane was opened and sections (First, Gold and economy class) were ignored. Only twelve people boarded and I couldn't believe my luck. I would have a whole centre section to sleep the flight out. Ha!

We bumped out of Holland with a surge of power that made me think those pilots knew something that I didn't. It was the softest landing I had ever experienced by SAA when we sat down in London and I was now sure that the pilots knew something and were practising their skills for something special. "May I bring you some juice sir? No thank you, I'd rather have a Castle Lager, and how long will we be sitting here?" "Not long, the girls will be boarding in about five minutes". Girls?

I sipped at the beer and watched in amazement as about sixty-odd of the world's most beautiful girls started filling the plane. Then it hit me. We are picking up the Miss World missies and it was just my luck to be on the same plane. It seemed like a never ending story of sheer beauty and here I was, never having been as near as this to such an activity, sitting in a dazed, almost stunned silence.

Well, they just poured in. The girls, their chaperons, the organizers and would you believe, some South African rugby spectators on their way home after the Boks' last game in England. We thought I had left rough seas in Holland, but this was much ... for want of a perfect word I'll leave the space open. On my left sat Miss Denmark and my right sat Miss Gibraltar. In front of me Miss Venezuela, Miss Canada and Miss Italy. Behind me, another totally shocked lonely American tourist, on his first ever visit to South Africa, sat between two more lovely ladies and the rest of the cabin was besieged by contestants. Then it began ... "Flight terrible".

Before take-off the girls were briefed about the night program. Water drinking, special eating rules,sleep, dressing, passports, personal customs administration, etc etc. Each girl had with her a togglebag (with chocolates, denims, tekkies and walkman), a vanity case (with paints and polishes, powders and perfumes), another kitbag (with who knows what and why) and the special "arriving" dress. The plane was not equipped for this sort of load and all this had to be kept on the floor and on laps. My worry - only seven toilets - and the beer had already started its work.

We took off with the passengers holding all or most of their bags on their laps. Yes of course a few bags landed on my lap as well, the perfect gentleman you know. It took about two hours for the girls to settle into their nests for the night and dinner could be served by the crew. "Is there much sun in South Africa? Have you found the Lost City yet? Do you want a chocolate?" While answering Miss Denmark's questions, Miss Gibraltar falls asleep on my shoulder with her "lost luggage" on my lap. Hey, wake up, its dinner time. No thank you, I only have chocolate and water. ZZZZ.'

00h30 and what should have been dinner, more like a desperate lucky dip exercise trying to get some food past all the luggage to your mouth, was over. Cabin crew were locked in a constant battle with "passengers" in the walkways trying to get food trolleys back to the lockers. Chaperons were shouting orders about the necessity of water drinking and the dangers of overindulging in chocolates. Now, whatever had been taken in was starting to pressure people in the direction of the toilets.

01hOO and "duty free" time. One elderly looking steward glanced once at the chaos around him and signalled a "NO GO" to the stewardesses who had the impossible task of pulling the duty free trolleys through the passageways. They quietly put the trolleys back. Rugby supporters, sitting in the front of the plane, were now steadily moving backwards in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what the plane eld in its middle and rear sections. I thought, ha, lucky me! Postcards started travelling from the front, down my side of the plane and back up to the front via the other side. Girls' autographs - those rugby supporters again.

02hOO the movie came on and lights went out. No stopping these girls, except Miss Gibraltar, who was still dozing away as if nothing was happening. The night progressed painfully slowly. But this time a different noise. A sort of rising shattery hoarse rumbly sound made by sharp pulling in of breath and shocking expressions of "what" "No!" and the like. Yes, you are right. The water was finished. The entire water supply of the plane, except for the toilets, was finished. Thank you to the chaperons for warnings that the girls should drink as much water as possible. Now I and the American behind me, who hadn't even had a chance to go to the toilet, let alone move in our seats, would have to go without water - "Steward, is the Castle Lager finished though?" -"sir, we have a ton of rugby supporters in the front of the plane, would you like to know more?"

03hOO and the lights went on again. Chaperons started handing out customs declaration forms. Sleep? whassat? Miss Gibraltar's pen was tucked away in the togglebag we managed to prop up under the seat. However to get to it again was a good test of human indulgence, patience, and persistence. My lap once again conveniently became ''that packing space". The rugby people in the front, never wanting to miss a chance, started moving backwards again in a desperate attempt to "chat-up" some or other beauty. No luck with chaperons and cabin crew, on whose faces slight traces of the effects of psychological and physical torture were now starting to appear. I thought again, "maybe I'm lucky".

04hOO en die bier het erg begin druk. 

Die wens om toilet toe te gaan was groot maar die werklike situasie was veel erger. Na die rondgemaal met die invul van doeanevorms en die bymekaarmaak van paspoorte deur die begeleiers het die toue weer toegeneem voor die toilette. Die Amerikaner agter my het erg begin woel en so nou en dan 'n kreun uitgelaat. Die kajuitpersoneel was nou duidelik moeg en het hulle uit die spore gemaak. Om die water probleem op te los, na hewige woorde van die organiseerders se kant, het die kajuitpersoneel die heIe voorraad sodawater (blikkies) op 'n punt neergesit en gese "help julleself". Dit was die laaste sien van die personeel. Nog geen slaap nie en die bagasie sit nog steeds op die skote en onder die sitvlakke.

O5hOO en ek begin beplan aan my strategie oor hoe om by die toilet uit te kom en hoe om dan toegang te verkry. 'Jy moet roekeloos wees, maak of jy siek is - met die duur rokke wat oor elkeen se stoel hang sal jy gou jou pad deur kry'. Ha, "dat het niet gelukt hoor". Tot my verbasing sien ek die meisies begin nou kalmeer en stiller word in hulle sitplekke en die toue na die toilette raak yler. Ek dag toe, 'ek knip 'n ogie en teen so sesuur behoort hulle almal aan die slap te wees en kry ek my kans'. Ek doen toe ook maar so en val vasberade in 'n bedrukte ongemaklike slapie vas.

07hOO en 'n stem van baie ver vra om verby te kom. Ek skrik wakker en dis Mej Gibraltar wat eindelik wakkergeskrik het en op pad is na die ... natuurlik. Ek merk op dat sy haar "vanity case" en rok in die hand het. Nou moet ek spring, anders word die ander ook wakker en kry ek nie my vyf minute in die son nie. Dit was asof Goliat met sy groot hand my koppie net so terugdruk in my sitplek toe ek opstaan en my aanloop begin, want daar voor my van agter in die vliegtuig tot by elke toiletingang, staan meer as veertig meisies bankvas met bekommerde slaperige gesiggies en wag op ‘n kans om te gaan "titivate". Ek dag by myself 'vriend, hulle is darem mooi' en sak stilletjies terug in my sitplek terwyl die Amerikaner agter my liggies kreun, "not a chance man".

Van toe at was dit chaos. Die rugbymanne voor wil 'n laaste kykie inkry. Die meisies moet voor landing "opgedolly" wees en die laaste "briefings" moet nog gehou word. Tyd loop en die toue raak langer. Die ontbyt moet nog bedien word en die kaptein en sy bemanning het hulleself in die pilote- kajuit toegesluit, angstig om die voel veilig ten gronde te bring. Die watervoorraad vir die toilette raak op en nou breek daar paniek uit. Wat van my en die Amerikaner? Dit is ons demokratiese reg om vrylik na die toilet te kan gaan, en water tot ons beskikking te kan he.' Ek begin vuiste bal en dink, 'hulle is mooi, maar mooi pas duidelik nie meer in hierdie noodsituasie nie' "no more mister nice guy". Ja, probeer jy maar 'n beeldskone dame voor 'n toilet, wasbak en spleet wegdruk as sy binne 'n uur voor die pers by 'n groot ontvangs moet verskyn. Soos die Hollanders sou se "ja dag ... "

Van uithou was daar tonne. Die mens is 'n wonderlike ding. Toe ons daardie linksdraai bo Johannesburg vat, loop my oog oor die paar meisies wat nog struikelend in die tou staan vir die toilette. Die kajuitpersoneel skreeu nou al "please sit down", maar dit val op dowe ore. Meisies wat dit nie kon maak na die toue trek sommer nou op hulle sitplekke aan. Ek sit met twee oop "vanity cases" op my skoot terwyl Mej Denemarke en Mej Gibraltar die laaste strepe trek. Maar soos "jaws" in die fliek, wag ek my kans af en toe die vliegtuig sy laaste buiging na links gemaak het en neus laat sak, spring ek op en nael vir die toilet. 

Ek dag ek hoor 'n ligte, verdrinkende sug van verdriet en wanhoop van die Amerikaner agter my, maar my aandag is op my missie. Verby die laaste meisies, die vlugkelner tot by die "wonderlike" toiletdeur. "You really have to go and sit down now" sis ek deur my tande na die rneisie tussen my en die deur en sy laat spaander. EK IS IN!' Ons land al maar EK IS IN. Ek was die laaste staande persoon toe die wiele grond vat. Op my gemaklike terugstap na my sitplek dink ek by myself, 'man maar hulle is mooi' en toe sien ek die Amerikaner .....

Die vliegtuig is na 'n plek geneem waar die meisies 'n spesiale ontvangs gekry het. Ons passasiers moes eerste afklim en die vraag kom by my op 'te laat om nou eerste aan die beurt te wees?'  

Met 'n terugkykie wuif ek na Denemarke en Gibraltar en se "may the best man win". "Man?" Ai Frans, dag ek in die bus, jy het dan die hele nag geoefen vir daardie laaste woorde ...

Buite ontvang die familie my. Het jy lekker gevlieg? Jy Iyk moeg. Hoe antwoord jy hulle in een kort sin dat so 'n wonderlike ervaring die moeilikste in jou lewe kan wees??

Dankie Steve.

Confession of a personnel manager

Tom Wheeler

Meintjeskop Courier Volume 3, 1993

With all the perspective of two days in a new Branch of the Department, perhaps it is time to look back nostalgically on a year spent in the Directorate of Personnel Management.

My predecessor, Alex van Zyl, called me urgently soon after my appointment was confirmed and suggested that I involve myself immediately in arrangements for the next Awards Ceremony - generally known at Ad Astra as The Oscars.

What I found out later was that this was only part of the story. I was to head a group of the most professionally diverse people one could imagine. The mysteries of what they did became clear to me only over a period of time. There were psychologists, psychometrists, social workers, clergymen, administration officers, personnel specialists and clerks, language instructors in the eclectic communicative method, an editor, a computer graphics artist, field workers for security vetting, programme managers for training, instructors for a host of subjects and latterly labour relations specialists - 95 in all. (No less than six were fully-fledged line-function officers). I ended the year with a high regard for their professionalism and dedication.

To be faced with acronyms like POD, SMK, BOS, tongue-twisters like Departement-Partikuliere Toekennings and Personeelpraktisyne and terms like "koopaanbod" and "uitmotiveer" as one's daily fare and to sit in judgment like a magistrate every Friday on who gets into the Department and who does not, took some getting used to for an innocent from the Transkei/Ciskei Directorate. Suddenly the responsibility for a small university with three Faculties or schools, Professional Diplomacy, Management and Administration and Languages was also mine.

Never having been a rugby player, I often wondered whether my shoulders could ever be broad enough to bear the weight of all the problems that were tearfully or otherwise loaded onto them by colleagues.

Until you occupy a seat like that you cannot imagine how many problems we can have or jams, scrapes and idiocies we can get ourselves into or land in through the actions of others or the misunderstandings that can come about between the different professional cultures in the Department.

I have on occasion defined the job-description as 1a cross between a ping-pong player and a traffic cop. Perhaps I should have added further a father confessor and an odd job man. A bit of lateral thinking also does not go amiss. You get a perspective on the Department you can get nowhere else.

Make no mistake, it was demanding. You realised, particularly when you made a mistake that you were dealing with the life, future and happiness of your colleagues. A hasty or ill-considered decision could have serious ramifications both for the person or people concerned, but also in financial terms for the Department and the individual.

A concession for one person turns into a precedent which everyone reminded you of. Suddenly the guidelines provided by those regulations which are the bane of the lives of us free-wheeling line-function officers made infinite sense.

To have been able to make some contribution to placing the Department in a position where it is recognised in the Public Service, in certain UN circles and outside, as the government department best orientated to deal with the Change ahead was a privilege.

But the real fun part was being Editor of the Meintjeskop Courier, scheming with Erna on what we could put in, dreaming up headlines like "Dangerous Liaisons, Swazi Style" and then deciding that as a "family magazine" the adage ''when in doubt, don't" contained wise advice after all.

One day I sat down and listed the ex officio duties I had, besides the normal desk jobs and the frequent interviews and conversations with colleagues on home-leave and within the Department. It makes interesting reading and impresses me no end.

Here is the list:

Ex officio Chairman of the Departmental Support Committee (ex HRSC study)

•             Organizing Committee for the Awards Ceremony

•             Head Office Standing Committee of KOBDA

•             Moderating Committee for Merit Bonuses for Junior Line-functions Officers

•             Central Merit Committee for Assistant Directors: Foreign Service

•             Central Merit Committee for Deputy Directors: Foreign Service

•             Central Merit Committee for Law Advisers 

•             Moderating Committee for Appointments

•             Editorial Committee of the Meintjeskop Courier

•             Directorate Meeting

Ex Officio Member of the

•             Language School Subject Committee

•             Departmental Social Club Committee

•             Administration Branch Management Committee

•             Central Merit Committee for Deputy Directors: Foreign Affairs Administration

Staff Function to the -

•             Departmental Placement Committee

•             Deputy Director Generals' Committee

And anything else that crops up.

I confess: I enjoyed every minute of every crammed, crazy day.

Good luck, Gerry.

"South Africa Week" in the Philippines 1999

By Skhy Xinwa, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Meintjeskop Ditaba No III/1998

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From 31 March to 4 April this year, the High Commission hosted the "South Africa Week in the Philippines" at the Manila Mandarin Hotel in Makati City, Manila. A number of events aimed at promoting awareness of South Africa as a trade and investment partner and as a unique and alternative tourist destination were staged by the High Commission. 

It is important to point out from the outset, that the event's success was due to the valuable assistance of  DENEL, SATOUR, FEDHASA, South African Airways, Malaysian Airlines, the Out of Africa Restaurant, Malaysia-South Africa Business Council, the Department of Foreign Affairs and Department of Tourism of the Republic of the Philippines, the University of the Philippines, the Department of Arts, Culture, Science and Technology of South Africa, the Umtata Cultural Ensemble and the office of the South African Honorary Consul in Manila

Apart from the two members of Cabinet, the launch was also attended by more than a dozen captains of industry, heads of diplomatic missions, senior academics,students and senior public service representatives. Since the event was aimed at displaying what South• Africa has to offer in the areas of trade, investment, tourism, culture and academic co-operation, the following events were successfully staged to meet this important objective.:

Food and Wine Festival

With the able and creative assistance of the Out of Africa team, led by Brandon Whitehead, the High Commission hosted a week-long sampling of some of the famous South African dishes like bobotie,,boerewors, potjiekos, putu, etc. These dishes were complemented, as expected, by good South African wine.

Cultural Performance Arts

The Umtata Cultural Ensemble, coming all the way from President Mandela's home province, staged a number of impressive performances during "the Week" that had the house packed during their lunch time.  

And evening performances at the hotel. The group, led by Sonwabile Maqokolo,also did a wonderful song and dance routine during the official opening of the South African Garden at the "Garden of the World Exhibition" in Pampanga, 60 kilometres north of Manila.

Business Seminar

The High Commission in tandem with the Malaysian - South African Business Council successfully highlighted the many opportunities and potential of the South African market. Murray and Roberts focused in their presentation on the well-established track record and advantages offered by the South African construction and engineering industry.

For the duration of the week, participants, visitors and friends of South Africa in the Philippines, were treated to the unique experience that is South Africa. Based on the success of the first ''South Africa Week in the Philippines', the High Commission is planning to host another "SA Week" in 1999.

Indonesia: "The sleeping giant" and other observations

Linford Andrews and Michaela Lessle, Jakarta

Meintjeskop Ditaba No III/I998

Many of us know the statistics on Indonesia. The world's fourth most populous country. The world's largest Muslim population. A major role player on the multilateral stage. Up to the latter half of 1997, Indonesia was one of the world's fastest growing economies, with a rate averaging 8 percent. A country of contrasts, with warm, turquoise waters lapping on to exotic beaches, lush tropical forests and snow-capped volcanic peaks.

What does this all mean in the greater scheme of things? Before the onset of the currency crisis and the recent political and social turmoil, Indonesia was a country that was about to emerge from years of poverty and relative obscurity in the doldrums. If the predictions were to be believed, would it have become the world's fifth largest economy by the year 2020? The fundamentals to achieve this phenomenal turnaround were certainly in place, not only economically, but also with the successful management of the social aspects of Indonesian life. Socially, with the bond of more than 300 ethnic groups, including both Malay and Melanesian peoples, plus more than 25 languages and over 200 dialects thrown in for good measure, one can appreciate the daunting task it must have been for the architects of this political entity we today call "Indonesia".

Intensive, successful social programmes in poverty alleviation, rural development, health care and development of human resources had placed Indonesia firmly on the road to achieving fully developed status. The "sleeping giant", as the country was often referred to, is today, on the one hand, showing signs of serious economic stagnation, while on the other, of a definite political re-awakening since the resignation of former President Soeharto in May 1998. Therefore, the "sleeping giant", at least economically, will continue to be in a dazed stupor for some time to come!

Having been here for quite some time, one could definitely see the development of Indonesia unfolding before one's eyes, with both positive and negative results. The increasing disparity in the income gap between rich and poor, the enormous infra-structural burden borne by cities like Jakarta, and the recent forest fires causedby "land clearing" operations, are just some of the negative aspects from such high speed development. (We described these issues in our article "Mission Impossible? Life in the Big Durian", in a previous edition of the Meintjeskop Ditaba).

Over the course of the last year, Indonesia has been faced by tragedies and what we diplomatically term “challenges", including air crashes, ferry sinkings, the currency crisis, and most recently, the political turmoil!

By' local standards, the speed of the political transition and social upheaval caught everyone, not least members of the diplomatic corps, completely by surprise! Spontaneous incidents of: riots and looting in mid-May 1998 prompted the Embassy to evacuate all spouses and children to Singapore. Members of the line-function and administration component elected to remain in Jakarta. 

This was not an easy decision to take but after much deliberation, staff decided that it was in the best interest of both the South African government and our citizens in Indonesia, to remain in Jakarta. Not many thanks were forthcoming from our citizens due to the fact that mission staff were not in a position to arrange charter flights or to organise a contingent of navy seals to physically airlift them out of Indonesia! 

Many South African citizens expressed their dissatisfaction that the Embassy could not assist them in this manner, even though we followed a similar policy instituted by most other embassies. We did advise those who wanted to evacuate, to take advantage of the extra flights laid on by many European and Asian airlines. However, once they were re-assured that mission personnel were not evacuating and therefore not deserting them, their shocked emotional state subsided and was replaced by a sense of calm and relief!

During the course of the riots, the Counsellor (Political) and his family were woken by the military and their night guard during the early hours of the morning, to be informed that their home might come under an "impending attack". They were requested to evacuate by foot to the nearest hotel ..... however, the nearest  hotel was about 3 km away and getting there on foot was definitely not an option  to be considered! Standing between their home and the closest hotel i.e. the Hilton, were several groups of looters and dark unlit roads. 

Therefore, a rational decision was taken to make a hasty get-away in the family vehicle.... the mission was thankful that, of the few roads that Mr Dahlke knew in Jakarta the one to the Hilton hotel was one of them! In a cloak-and-dagger like operation, the Dahlke family sped away from the house, hunched over the steering wheel with no car lights switched on. Thankfully they all arrived safe and sound at the hotel!

On a lighter note, the foreign assistant decided that since she chose not to evacuate, she would take precautionary measures by surrounding her house with as many lire extinguishers as possible. These would not only serve their intended purpose but also as a deterrent to any unwanted visitors! (Note: a new cultural weapon!)

The interesting aspect about observing the development of this country, must surely be those events and occurrences which border on the ridiculous ... and believe me, once you've experienced this side of Indonesian life, you can then truly say that "I have seen it all!"

Let us take the extremely topical subject of "traffic" in Jakarta, most expatriates do not drive themselves, but choose to employ an Indonesian to do the ... shall we dare say ... dirty deed! However, this makes for either a hair-raising experience, or a downright boring one! I mean, how many other smaller cities can boast of having such creative drivers like here in Jakarta ... who succeed in creating six lanes out of a three-lane highway? Or motorcyclists who weave in and out of traffic as if on a kamikaze-style suicide mission?

Furthermore, for pure visual excitement (!), in how many other cities in the world can one spot, in the space of only a few meters, the following: a limousine (Mercedes or Volvo) and numerous other luxury vehicles; a food cart being pushed in the middle of the road; a motor-cyclist with not one but four or five pillion passengers (none wearing helmets!); a cyclist ferrying ten live chickens tied together by their feet to some obscure marketplace; AND a three-wheeled bajaj (like the Thai "tuk-tuk") noisily transporting people from place to place?

On the subject of helmets, making the situation even more unusual, one often finds a motorcyclist with his entire family, i.e. wife and two or three kids, on ONE motorcycle .... with the father wearing a good safety helmet, the wife wearing what looks like a cheap polystyrene imitation of a helmet, and the kids wearing none!!

This may sound grossly illogical to us Westerners, used to the idea of protecting our children at all costs, but we have been told that the belief here in the Orient is that if a child dies, one can always have more children, but if a parent dies, that puts paid to any plans for future procreation!

Another aspect of life here that makes for interesting observation is the esoteric, sometimes frustrating, and challenging cultural differences. 

The Javanese, just one of more than 300 ethnic groups in this country tend by and large to dominate the social and political landscape, and to a slightly lesser extent the economic one. The latter is due to the fact that many Indonesians of Chinese descent tend to be the dominant players in the economy (and some of the wealthiest people in the country, if not the world. A perfect example here would be Mohamad "Bob" Hasan, Chairman of the Nusamba Group, a close friend of ex-President Soeharto and on the Forbes "100" list). Nevertheless, the "Javanese" way of doing things seems to infiltrate all aspects of life here.

A good example of the latter is the fact hat being different from others makes an Indonesian "malu" (embarrassed). The deepest insult for an Indonesian is to be made "malu" in front of others. Indonesians have a very finely developed code of social etiquette and politeness called "Sopan Santun". Politeness is therefore culturally defined, most particularly among the Javanese. What may be considered polite behaviour to foreigners may be impolite to Indonesians, and vice versa.

It is consistent with the Indonesians' strong need to avoid disruption of their inner and outer sense of harmony that they don't want to offend or displease others. 

Therefore, disagreeable or unpleasant things are never said directly. Public displays of anger and loss of control are disapproved. "Saving face", as is common in some other Asian countries, is thus very important in Indonesia.

How this phenomenon of "sopan santun" is effected in one's dealings with Javanese can be illustrated by this example: during  an official trip to Bandung, West Java, in March 1997, Ambassador Kubheka's official driver could not find the way to the hotel where the Ambassador was to stay. Stopping repeatedly to ask directions, the driver was given different answers by each and every person! Rather than risk embarrassment by saying "no", if they did not know the directions to the hotel, these individuals chose to make up an answer, which of course, proved to be incorrect. Needless to say, the cellular phone came in handy, and a quick phone call to the hotel itself solved the problem!

Another classic example occurred when Linford accompanied the Ambassador on an official trip to Yogyakarta, a province in Central Java. The flight they were on, of the national air carrier "Garuda Indonesia”, was delayed several times on the day d departure: during the first delay an explanation was given by the cabin crew, but subsequently, no further reassurances were given, causing a mild degree of panic among the passengers when a power failure caused the entire electronic system on the aircraft to shut down!! Even after repeated questioning by passengers, the cabin crew were not forthcoming to calm their fears! As a result, several passengers chose to leave the aircraft, and it took off several hours later with a group of very nervous passengers on board!... they did make itsafely! (Whew!)

The challenge that faces this unique culture is the constant infiltration of "Western" ideals, values and methods of  doing business. Trying to maintain the Indonesian way of doing business, while simultaneously emulating many Western aspects of business is indeed a difficult balancing act. The one area where 'Western values" has indeed crept in is the dress code for doing business. In Indonesia, a tropical country with extreme humidity and temperatures averaging 30 degrees Celsius on a daily basis, normal practice for businessmen is to wear suits (collar, tie, and in formal business meetings, a jacket). 

This practice is therefore uncomfortable and impractical in this climate. However, the business suit has reached the level of status symbol: the more expensive the label (preferably a designer one), the higher one's status. N ever mind the fact that one feels all choked and hot under the collar (literally!), even without wearing a jacket.

Of course, to defend the use of Western business suits, one can use the argument that most modern office buildings have their air conditioning set to what we term "Arctic mode" ... in other words, upon entering a doorway, you undergo an instant freeze from a temperature of 30 degrees Celsius outside, to 5 or 10 degrees inside!

Another interesting and controversial area of observation is the level of corruption in Indonesia. Recently voted as the second most corrupt country in Asia, after Pakistan" the Indonesian way of "getting things done" would certainly give any upstanding Swiss or Singaporean nationals heart failure! To get things done, whether clearing an item through customs or having renovations done to your house, it can either take "a couple of days, or several months, it depends on you" (quoted from a customs official in conversation to one of the transferred officials when asked about clearing something through customs).

Now, the "ridiculous" angle to this phenomenon is that customs officers would rather hold your uch beloved pets without clearing them, for several months after arrival in Indonesia, unless one is able to "pay them under the table" to clear them for you in a couple of hours. Now, what would one be forced to do in such a situation…I mean.poor”Fido” or “Gigi” or “Muggins” can certainly not suffer the cruelty of being held in filthy hot warehouses for days on end{ so one has to put your convictions aside, and follow suit! And this is after all the necessary clearance fees or documents, etc have already been paid!!

The level of corruption and quest to make money by whatever means thus reaches, in our Western thinking, unacceptable standards. Yet, in Indonesia, up to now, it has been considered part and parcel of daily life and the accepted way' of doing things. The recent political upheaval has led to an increasing outcry among Indonesians for an end to corrupt practices. This will undoubtedly take a long time to materialise.

Turning to aspects of the non-human variety, it should be let known that Jakarta is not just teeming with millions of people, cars, bajajs, dangerously overloaded buses spewing black clouds of smoke, bicycles overloaded with household utensils, or batches of live chicks (no, not the chicks you are thinking of!), but also mosquitoes, cockroaches, rats, mice, dogs and cats at every imaginable corner ... and even civet cats! Yep, you have heard right, civet cats in Jakarta ... can't be, or? (The definition of a civet cat according to Webster's New World Dictionary: "any of several nocturnal, catlike carnivores of Africa, India, Malaysia and Southern China, with spotted yellowish fur".

As for Linford's experience, he had an unusual visitor in his lounge. He was reading when, from the corner of his eye, he felt something watching him. Looking up, he saw a small face peek out from an opening on top of the curtain pelmet. A peek-a-boo ensued between both parties tor a while after which Linford decided that this had to stop. Bravely, he and the gardener managed to force this as yet, unidentified creature, to the floor.

However red-faced and all, Linford conceded that when this creature started chasing him, he managed a record breaking jump onto his study table from where he watched, secure in the thought of safety, the capture of this furry animal. On describing this animal the next morning, it transpired that his house guest was a young civet cat!

Cockroaches here are ugly and as big as the Parktown 'prawn. Their attack strategy is something to be reckoned with and unless you have been a soldier, you don't fool around with them! Our bat arm (or rather shoe) now lands most of the time, dead on target! If you miss, you do a merry dance around the room until you have caught the intruder. After having discovered some of them in your bed, the ritual before going to sleep is now to shake the bed covers, check the closet and look behind the curtains!

Cockroaches also inhabit the Embassy, and if you think that it is only the fairer sex* that gets rooted to the spot on the sight of these creatures, let me correct you on this point by relating the following: overhead one day in the office, when Trevor (3rd Secretary) piped up: "Michaela, as you don't seem to mind catching cockroaches, don't  you want to get rid of the one in my ollice?", or on spotting one crawling around one day, Michaela exclaimed: "Mr Vermaak, trap dood!" ... to which the response was only a blank stare! The result? Exterminator, "Ramboline" to the rescue!

Mission staff have however, in the meantime, got used to daily visits of rats, mice, civet cats and “kucing kampungs": when spotted trying to enter the house, any attempt at "shooing" them away is met with a stare of contempt and one is promptly ignored! Normally, in case of the latter, the banging of fists on the table or a hard stomp on the ground does the trick!

Michaela added this extra dimension to  "her animal experiences”: “Cats, thpse. wonderful creatures (literally and figuratively). The "kucing kampungs" or translated, village cats, just know there are kind-hearted South African souls in Jakarta. Scrawny and flea ridden they appear one by one from nowhere, their eyes begging for a morsel of food. The plight of the animals would make the SPCA and animal lovers cringe at the sight." Though many local people keep cats and dogs as pets, they are terribly neglected and near starvation.

Most South African households in Jakarta have "adopted" some of the cats that have strayed into their yard. However, it was sad when a few of them died but rather unsettling when the domestic servant stated where she had buried them ... in her garden which is now affectionately known as the "pet cemetery". In a subsequent, discussion on the matter, Michaela had wondered why her hibiscus bushes were not flourishing, to which Linford (with tongue very firmly in cheek!) remarked  ... maybe dead cats don't make good fertiliser? !"

Now, being a tropical paradise (anywhere except Jakarta!), inevitably the u1iguitous mosquito makes its presence felt, albeit in a "different" way. The mosquitoes here are the first that we've ever encountered that attack you in "silent" mode! In South Africa, one at least hears the critters before they lay their clutches on you, but in Indonesia? ... Here one wakes up the morning after with mosquito bites, not knowing how they ever managed to get so close to one's ear without being heard!

Their presence begs the question as to why there are so many of them in the tropics? Besides the conventional reasons, one observer stated that mosquitoes are not as stupid as we human beings think: they have figured out eons ago that heat and humidity make animals and humans move around much more slowly. Why work up a sweat chasing cold, fast-moving bodies when there's , easy prey at your beck and call? Furthermore, winter parkas and snowsuits are a bit more cumbersome to penetrate compared to all that sweet skin, tauntingly exposed when wearing tropical attire!

You would all have heard (and seen on CNN no doubt) the haze problems caused by the forest fires in Borneo and Sumatra. Well, Jakarta is already' the world's third most polluted city, so what's a little bit of haze gonna do? .... Just joking!! 

No, seriously, the biggest irony about these developments was that the neighbouring capita cities took the brunt of it, i.e. Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, while Jakarta came out of it relatively unscathed. Thank goodness, because then we would really have had breathing problems! The excessive pollution in cities like Jakarta, and many others in Asia, illustrates one of the biggest ironies of human life: i.e. that in our desperate desire to escape the financial poverty of rural life (where, in general, our quality of life tends to be better), we sacrifice essentials such as clean air and water for a life in the "big city".

The debate over the "economic miracle" in Asia, and the enormous sacrifices in quality of life that are being undertaken to achieve this miracle, continues unabated. 

Like so many other cities barely coping with such huge burdens, Jakarta will continue to remain in the spotlight for many years to come. Unfortunately, though, it seems that this spotlight will fall increasingly on the negative aspects of life in Jakarta. This has now become even more evident since the onset of the currency crisis and the steep rise in poverty levels in Indonesia. The perceived instability and threat of social unrest that brews below the veneer of tight political and military control, characterises the city of Jakarta in the near future.

The biggest challenge for foreigners living in Jakarta is exactly how to take all the all the “extremes” in one’stride: managing a few difficult aspects is acceptable, but when so many difficulties occur simultaneously,causing a major assault on one's senses, then it can become a burden: this can have an adverse effect on one's overall well-being and productivity. 

At the very least, the one observation that really rings true is the fact that while Indonesia may be one of the world's largest nations, it still lacks the complete understanding and knowledge of its culture in the West. In the greater scheme of things, this lack of understanding may be just the way the Indonesians like it: in the Javanese culture, this amounts to the social nicety of "maintaining a sense of inner harmony" as part of the phenomenon of "sopan santun”.

The Javanese puppet plays (“wayang kulit", or shadow puppets), in which the battle between good and evil is portrayed in a complex ritual of light and shadow cast on a screen, behind which the puppeteer carries out the movements, is illustrative: it can be translated into the Indonesian way of life, and their outlook to the rest of the world too. They are thus largely inward looking, but any engagement with foreign countries necessitates an ability to "read between the lines" or to "follow the shadows" to find the true essence or meaning to Indonesian intentions. 

If one can understand that aspect, it goes a long way in opening doors for any foreign engagement with Indonesia.

Despite the difficulties and challenges in working in Indonesia, the experience gained and lessons learnt make the encounter a personally enriching one. The turmoil that has befallen this country over the past couple of months has illustrated one important fact: that no matter how hard or adverse the situation, one does possess the capability and the mental strength to emerge through it all relatively unscathed.

The challenges that the Indonesian people have faced over the last year, and their ability to face it head on, can partly be explained by the character inherent in their culture: again, their need to maintain a sense of inner harmony has assisted them in facing these challenges. This is one example from where we can draw lessons. That, above all, is the best observation that can be made.

.:. Our apologies to the Gender Unit and to all politically correct officials in the Department. No sexism, male chauvinism, or political incorrectness was intended on our part!

The authors.