Can We Move On Now?

While having the world’s largest Muslim population, Indonesia has been somewhat consistently practicing a loose form of Islam. Headscarves on women hasn’t really gone mainstream until recently. At the same time, acceptance for “uncovered” women is not changed at all. Men and women enjoy basically the same freedoms, unlike in Saudi Arabia and Taliban Afghanistan. Segregation of men and women is unheard of, except for doing salat prayers. However, some issues do make some waves in the country’s Muslims: one recurrent issue is Indonesia’s participation in Miss Universe beauty pageant, and its swimwear session.

Organizations claiming to represent Islam continue to protest our Putri Indonesia (PI) for participating in the “sinful” act, asserting that it goes against Islamic teaching. If I’m not mistaken, one organization went further in the past, suing Putri Indonesia and Putri Indonesia Foundation for either making pornographic material or indecent act. Parts of the society also cited “Eastern values” and “Indonesian norms” as reasons to why no Indonesian woman should be photographed in bikinis, or take part in the first place.

Before making fun of those flimsy arguments, I should lay down my own views on this matter: wearing bikinis for the beach is as normal as wearing the mukena for doing salat prayers. The right outfit for the right occasion. (Hopefully on the right person too - Dorce in bikinis is just not healthy.) Frankly, it makes much more sense than those middle-aged women who goes to the beach in full Lebaran attire. Moreover, the PIs donned their bikinis at their own discretion. It is fully their decision. They know that PI winners will be sent to the Miss Universe contest; Miss Universe contestants are required to do the shoot. No one’s rights are being violated here.

Now, let’s move on to the first bite. Islamic figures and organizations reject the event since it flouts their teachings. Even if it does, so what? After all, it is only their views, to which they are entitled and to which we can pay no attention. In a broader scope, as a human, each person has the freedom to practice his/her religion according to his/her faith. If a girl believes that bikinis won’t burn her in hell, it is totally up to her. Even the state cannot interfere, let alone mere figures and groups.

In my point of view of Islam, the last time I checked, there is no such thing as the vicar of Allah on Earth. No Muslim has religious authority over other Muslims, even if his/her name is changed into Arabic staple names and adorned with titles like sheikh, kiai, ustaz, or habib. Similarly, MUI’s or FPI’s or anyone’s fatwa has no real power on anyone. Otherwise, it would violate the freedom to practice one’s religion freely, which Islam itself acknowledges.

Next, the phrases “Eastern values” and/or “Indonesian norms” is as discombobulating to me as Mbah Surip: everybody talks about it, yet it remains a mystery. The real meaning of “Western trends/ideas” is also unclear; it became more of a cliché than an evil, thanks to Ahmadinejad. Those phrases are frequently abused to resist any kind of new stuffs. Victims include more freedom in friendship, better sexual education, and sharper presidential debate. They all had to brave the “Eastern values” storm, before either being widely accepted or being completely rejected. Until now, Putri Indonesia and her bikini are still floating on the raging wave of public opinion.

Instead of delineating what “Eastern values”, “Indonesian norms” are, fans of those phrases are making the impression that they all mean “oppression”. On the other hand, “Western ideas” stands for wild freedom. Yet, they never try to show what “Indonesian norms” do, what good are “Eastern values” for, and what on Earth are included in the “Western ideas” category. On the grounds of fuzziness, I think the phrases –and their users- deserve no attention at all. If you do have some thoughts on “Eastern values”, “Indonesian norms”, and “Western ideas”, do not hesitate to enlighten me.

One last question, “Can’t we just move one, like, now?” Indonesia has been sending delegates to Miss Universe for several years now. When it’s spanking new, I can understand the outrage; but now, I understand that people can be foolish. Let our present and future gorgeous Putri Indonesia’s make her own choices because at the end of the day, you can make your own choices too. Don’t approve of bikinis? Just change the channel. Don’t approve of beauty pageants? Well, stop paying so much attention! It’s so simple, even Tukul can do it.

My 17an Post

July 17, 2009. I was on my vacation in Melbourne, and my main sources of news from home were Facebook and Twitter. Naturally, those two channels gave me mostly personal updates, so the day went as usual. When I was taking a nice stroll in Melbourne’s CBD, I took the free afternoon paper mX, which carried the headline Terror Blast and a mainly grey-black front page. Given the paper’s light-reading quality, I thought it was the usual exaggeration of the trivial, perhaps it was about a new reality show twist or another esoteric Australian show. Exactly because of that, I continued my walk and sat down to enjoy the afternoon at Federation Square. Everything was fine, just normal.

Man, was I terribly wrong! In the first sentence, Jakarta was mentioned, then the words JW Marriott and Ritz-Carlton followed. Apparently, the capital was once again hit by two bombs in the Mega Kuningan area. That would explain the picture in the front page, which I only then realized was a picture of the smoke billowing from one of the hotels. But I told myself to slow down, “hey, it’s mX the paper that scrutinized every bit of Lady GaGa and publishes celeb tweets everyday, it could be wrong. I’ll just check the internet later when I go back.” Simply enough, I looked online and the news started pouring in.

I was flushed by a deluge of reports about the bombings. This channel said this, that newspaper said that, and although it seemed impossible, the internet felt rather chaotic. However, there was one web service the users of which consistently exhibited a different take on the tragedy, and it would keep amassing attention for more than a month, maybe forever. It was Twitter.

Indonesian Twitter users (Twitterers?) ignited another kind of explosion, that instead of spreading fear and killing men, revealed whole new levels of optimism, activism, and nationalism in the generation frequently labeled “lazy” and/or “unpatriotic”. #IndonesiaUnite claimed the trending topics top spot (a feat which would be repeated by Mbah Surip – but that’s really another story). #IndonesiaUnite made an unprecedented impact not only in cyberspace, but also in meatspace. As time progressed, the movement grew and touched more general issues too. In the end, it was about showing off our love for Indonesia.

It would be ironic, not to mention disrespectful, to say that it took two bombs and many lost lives to switch on our nationalism. Yet, it is understandable that only something extraordinary can do so. Then again, the past Dutch colonialism did, in one way or another, force Indonesians of the time to unite. This time, the so-called spoiled Indonesian generation –my generation- suddenly came out in full force, nudging Indonesia into the world’s limelight one tweet at a time. For one thing, I have never expected the archipelago to host so many twitterers. More importantly, we (as in they and I) proved that our nationalism never hit rock bottom. Yes, maybe it’s a little drowned out by the music from our iPods or by the addictive games on Facebook, but we definitely still have nationalism.

The #IndonesiaUnite movement brought a sense of relief that Indonesia is not losing a generation, it just got another precious generation with its own attitude – and advantages, of course. That generation might have been reticent all this time, but when the time comes, as the bombings showed, we are more than ready to contribute in our own ways. If we do our parts right, Indonesians of the next era will regard this point as another milestone in the nation’s history.

The two sides of nationalism: loving your nation, despite its shortcomings; loving your nation, and complain about its shortcomings – for a better future.

A Surprising Discovery in (and about) FKUI

The month of August is always a special day for Indonesians. On August 17, 1945, after centuries of struggle, the people of Indonesia declared their independence from colonial rule. It is celebrated annually with various activities, ranging from the stand-still serious to the let-everything-loose. As the president leads the official ceremony in the Istana Negara, little kids are concentrating on nibbling the kerupuk above their heads and men are playing soccer in their wives’ negligee, all for the good time and eyes set on the prize. This year, I guess things will be even more festive after the #indonesiaunite movement and the wave of nationalism that followed. I am very optimistic on that upcoming event, but a recent personal discovery gave me another direction to look at.

During August 12-14, FKUI (Faculty of Medicine, University of Indonesia) hosted a photo exhibition, organized by the alumni society, about the role of its community during the fight for national independence. It highlighted the contribution of the Salemba community, named after the street in front of the university, in the decades before Soekarno read the declaration.

A short history lesson will do here, although it might get a little fuzzy. FKUI has been around for more than a century, longer than the University of Indonesia itself. It was not named FKUI until the 1950’s. It bore many name, many of which escaped my memory, but I do remember Sekolah Dokter Djawa (Javanese Doctor School), STOVIA (School tot Opleiding van Indische Artsen, 1989), and Geneeskundige Hogeschool (GHS, 1927). The students of STOVIA pioneered and played a prominent role in the national awakening, which later led to the nation’s independence. It is only appropriate that the STOVIA building is now made the National Awakening Museum. After the school, then GHS, moved to its current Salemba site, its defiance grew and its students were deeply involved in the process to freedom.

I visited the exhibition on August 13, and my grandparents tagged along. The lobby of the faculty building was decorated in an antique minimalist setting with sheets of elegant batik cloths hanging from the walls. Historical black-and-white photos were displayed on the support columns and old stands. Those pictures hold more than millions of words and emotions.

There were pictures of dr. Cipto Mangunkusumo, after whom the school’s teaching hospital is named. He founded the Indische Partij and argued for an independent Indonesia. Another well-known figure was dr. Abdulrahman Saleh, also called Pak Karbol. A day after the declaration of independence, radio stations were shut down by the Japanese; in response, Pak Karbol assembled a radio transmitter in the physiology laboratory to spread the good news everywhere. The laboratory is still in use for medical students. Later, he established Radio Republik Indonesia (RRI). He is also a military pilot in AURI (RI Air Force).

Other figures were also featured in the exhibition. There were dr. Leimena, dr. Latumenten, and dr. Kariadi. Several doctors’ name don’t appear often in history books, but their descendants are now holding various positions. My grandparents told me more about them, but I think they will have to repeat that.

The exhibition showed not only graduates, but also people who were admitted into the school but didn’t finish it. Mohammad Roem, of the Roem-Royen Agreement, transferred to the law school. Soedarpo Sastrosatomo was fired from the school because he refused to obey Japanese order to shave his head. He then joined the negotiators in the Linggarjati Agreement. After the country stabilized, he founded Samudra Indonesia, a shipping company that grew powerful.

A couple pictures or two captured the campus itself during the years. The building was astonishingly majestic, and it still is today. My grandma shared a little story of how the students, including her, used to take shortcuts by climbing over a short wall, and at one time was caught by a professor who just laughed at the scene. A picture immortalized the patriotic scene in which students, doctors, and nurses staged a walk-out from the hospital after it was invaded and taken over by the Dutch.

The exhibition was some kind of an epiphany to me. I know that FKUI has a history like no other school, but only yesterday I grasped the whole thing. I would have to thank the organizers who set up the exhibition, and my grandparents, who added so many little bits of interesting information about the people and events in the picture. (It turned out that my grandpa organized a past Dies Natalis, and met several historical figures to enrich a stage play he planned for the occasion). Considering its past, it would be great if FKUI compiles its deep history and the stories of its figures. This exhibition made me a proud Indonesian and a motivated FKUI student; imagine what such book could make us all?

First-time Research Experience

“Publish or perish” sounds scary enough to me and my fellow students in the medical school that we forced ourselves to plunge into the mysterious world of scientific research. After a month of preparation, I did my first data collection today in a dense residential area (also called a kampung) in East Jakarta, and I found out that there’s only a microscopic line between publishing and perishing.

Some background info: Six of us are doing a research on basic immunization in six areas around Jakarta. Per government regulation, basic immunization in Indonesia consists of BCG, DTP, polio, hepatitis B, and measles vaccines; immunization schedule is also set out in the regulation, albeit a little different from the pediatric society’s recommendation since the government has to consider the public health aspects. We want to know the coverage of the immunizations, and find out what factors are correlated to completing the immunization program on time. In theory, we are giving out questionnaires to mothers with toddlers; in practice, we’re dealing with restless young mothers, crying tots, and people who are too eager for a little souvenir.

Even before we planned anything, I had already realized that it is foolish to think that a field research can go smoothly without any hiccups. Anyway, that’s not a reason to let everything go wild; so we contacted the Kampung Melayu posyandu (community health service for toddlers) coordinator and delineated our plans for the research. She was extremely helpful and resourceful, thus lifting a lot of burden from our amateur shoulders. She took care of the location and contacted the research subjects. And in one day, we had the best plan ever. Or so we thought.

D-Day. Curiously enough, our research mentor called it “turun penelitian” a.k.a. getting down –and dirty- with the research. The day started peacefully. We settled in the place, and a couple of mothers with their toddlers came. We happily acted our part as the eager and caring researchers. Those first mothers were very lucky: we recited the whole ethics stuffs, played nice with their tots, helped them fill out the questionnaire attentively, and gave them a proper goodbye. All the time we were totally oblivious to the impending chaos.

Throngs of mothers just appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The new crowd suddenly packed our research spot and bombarded us, if not whined, with requests. “I haven’t got the questionnaire!”, “Can I have a pen, please?”, “I am in a hurry! Help me fill this out!”. Our stock of questionnaire simply flew everywhere into the hands of the overexcited subjects. The niceties were shamelessly replaced by hurried efficiency. Instead of the calm introduction, we had to tell them to complete the questionnaire straight away. (We still paid attention to the consent form, so no ethics problem there.)

Despite the main theme of chaos, there were many bits of interesting insight and experience there. One of the most serious insight is that quite a lot of the mothers lost their child’s immunization record to frequent floods. Only then the fact struck us that Kampung Melayu is dangerously flood prone. Apparently, floods in the area can reach the second floor. Second, their interest in our research should have been expected since the kampung is one of the university’s favorite research areas. They know that there will be souvenirs for them. Hence, they come for the souvenirs. Can’t blame them, and we do need them.

There were several mothers who caught our attention amid the choking crowd. There was this one mother who just stared blankly with a pen in her hand and questionnaire in front of her. My friend expected that, as she helps others with their forms, the mother would have finished hers. My friend was completely shocked to find her spacing out without any ink on her questionnaire. Another mother annoyingly asked my other friend to “serve” her first, because she had to breastfeed her son. That would have been fine, if not for the fact that there are people who got there before her and she could have breastfed her son while waiting for her turn. I don’t know why she insisted that she must fill her forms before breastfeeding. In the end, she did her questionnaire as her son had his milk in tranquility.

Surprisingly, the crowd cleared out as fast as it appeared. We instantly had a stack of filled forms with precious data, and also a chance to look at each others’ freaked out faces. No one dared to think that our first work would soon be over, but fortunately we finished the day in one piece. I wouldn’t bet on our sanity though.

All this stuff, and we still have 5 places to go. Yet, I proudly say that I feel no regret. It is a unique experience, and we won’t be able to avoid it anyway. It is a matter of time, whether we get this now and become prepared or years later when we have more things to stress about and are unprepared. After all, we had a good laugh on our way home, thanks to this research.

Movie Chit-Chat: UP to the Top!

Until last night, I had been preparing a writing to post here soon. Then Up came along, and it floated like a house with balloons to the top of my priority list. It has been a long time since the last “movie chit-chat”, which should give you a clue to how good my movie reviews are. Let’s just say the quality is proportional to the frequency. To be honest, I feel like I’m the Paula Abdul of movie reviews, only less drunk and less clap-happy: I blindly praise almost all movies I’ve seen. My movie chit-chats weren’t as much a review as a personal opinion. So if a proper review is what you’re looking for, you’d better look somewhere else.

I’ve just watched Up Thursday night, a little late considering that it’s been around for a week or so. When its trailer started to show up months ago, I wanted to go see Up simply because it’s another Pixar product. It is too normal to be so eager as Pixar has given us Toy Story, Finding Nemo, and WALL-E, to name a few. Last weekend, Up was already playing everywhere and words start to circulate. What I got from my friend was that the movie is lovely and very touching. Some admitted that Up brought them to tears. They mentioned something about the opening scene and the flashback scenes. And I was like “whaat!?”. And then they said it was funny too. Those cutey-touchy comments could have cancelled my plan right away, yet I resisted. Even if it is that mellow, a Pixar movie must never be missed. I proudly confirm that Up is that amazing and is also a must-watch.

Sitting in the cinema, I braced myself for the said tear-jerking moments. However, I beg to differ even from the start. The movie started exceedingly beautiful, showing the main character Carl Fredricksen’s adventure-crazy childhood and how he met fellow explorer girl Ellie, who later became his wife. The story was accompanied by wonderful music that still echoes in my ears. The couple seemed to have a wonderful time, except for the fact that they were unable to have children. Then, the couple set their goal on visiting the Paradise Falls somewhere in South America, but life keeps getting in the way. When they almost realized that dream, Ellie passed away. Carl was then left alone bitter. I loved how they portray Carl’s life: childhood, wedding, married life, old age, and widower.

One day, after an assault to a construction worker in front of his house, Carl was ordered to move to Shady Oaks retirement home. In one night, Carl inflated thousands of balloons (Wikipedia said 10,000) and in the morning, surprised the caretakers when his house floated off its foundation and flew away. The house itself with the balloons is a festival of color, totally unforgettable. Mid-air, Carl was then joined by Wilderness Explorer kid Russell who was eager to get his “Assisting the Elderly” merit badge. From there, the wacky adventure started.

I cannot stress this enough: Up is a must-watch. It has a unique story, a good balance of emotions, the gorgeous Pixar graphics, and charming music. I would say that the movie is poetic.

Travel Notes #1: Getting Around Melbourne

Here is my first post about the month-long vacation I had in the east coast of Australia. Rather than making a chronological series of the journey, I decided to write one topic each time. This way, I have a broader field to write about so that I am not stuck sharing stories about the amazing time and adventure I had in the land down under *evil grin*. Besides, I will not have to recall what I did on which day; it has become somewhat fuzzy since I did so many exciting activities there *another evil grin*. For this one, I will share a side of Melbourne which made me fell in love with the city: its public transport.

A city’s public transport is very important to me, and my family, because we rarely join packaged tours whenever we are travelling. We value our freedom to choose and move very highly, and using public transport gives a glimpse of life in that city, which is what I like about travelling. In every city we visited, we mainly rely on public transport to go around: London’s Tube, Paris’ Metro, Sydney’s monorail, and many other. On this matter, we can be surprisingly daring. In a trip to St. Petersburg, Russia, a few years ago, my family decided to split from our Indonesian tour group (we can only tolerate so many shopping stops in a day) and rode the underground railway, guided only by some Cyrillic scribbles from the tour guide.

Moreover, I have complained again and again about Jakarta’s public transport. This post will hopefully help people imagine the efficient, convenient, and humane public transport I always wish Jakarta will have soon. And believe me, we have lightyears to go and catch up.

Melbourne’s public transport is one of the best I have ever known - perhaps the familiarity helps a lot too. There are trains, trams, and buses in Melbourne, all of which are integrated into Metlink. This integration means we only need one ticket, the Metcard, to go almost anywhere. The fare is based on the duration, during which ticket holders have complete freedom to travel on trains, trams, and buses. Metlink offers 2-hours, daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly Metcards, along with several special offers like the 10x 2-hours and 5x Daily. Metcards are also based on zones: Greater Melbourne is divided into Zones 1 and 2, with a City Saver zone for Melbourne’s CBD in Zone 1. Almost all the touristy stuffs are in Zone 1, so it is quite cheap to get around.

The main train station is Flinders Street Station; that and the stations on the edges of Melbourne’s CBD make up the City Loop. Another main station in the loop is the renovated Southern Cross Station (formerly Spencer St.) which also serves regional and interstate trains and hosts a coach terminal. Trains are useful to reach the suburbs, like in my case since I lived with my aunt in the south eastern suburbs. I think tourists who stay in the city will not need the trains very much.

On the other hand, the tram network is a great way to explore Melbourne’s city centre and its surroundings, especially because it offers more view than the underground train. Because tram routes are concentrated in the city, a stretch of road may be served by multiple routes; thus, the waiting time is very short. For example, the part of Swanston Street in the CBD is served by nine routes. A free City Circle tram is also available. The tram follows the outer roads of the CBD (Flinders, La Trobe, and Spring Sts) and also goes to the Docklands.

A particularly fun ride is the route 96 tram to St. Kilda Beach. It comes into the city from Nicholson Street in the north, passing Carlton Gardens, where the Melbourne Museum and Royal Exhibition Building are located. Then, it enters Bourke Street, goes through the Bourke Street Mall, and turns south. The tram switches into a light rail train after passing Crown Casino and travels just outside Albert Park until it becomes a tram again in St. Kilda.

Last, the buses are also convenient, although the waiting time is quite long. However, tourists rarely use the bus. I rode the bus to go to Chadstone shopping centre, and occasionally to return to my aunt’s place when I’m too lazy to walk from the nearest –yet not so near- train station.

Metlink has a useful website with all the information one could need: route maps, timetables, zoning, Metcard types, and fares. It also provides a journey planner that gives out detailed plans. I tried the feature several times; apart from the information on which train/tram/bus to take, it also calculates the walking time to get to the stops.

The public transport in Melbourne is not perfect, though. The trains do run late at times, so do the other systems. Nevertheless, compared to what we have here in Jakarta, it is so much better that I began to wonder how on Earth did I survive TransJakarta for a year. While I might come across as a whiney kid too frail for the Indonesian urban jungle, I wrote this to complete what I have written here before about the urgency of a real public transport system to be established in the capital of Indonesia.

Where Are They Now? (Gimme My MP!)

Roughly three months ago, Indonesian cities are deluged in their posters, stickers, and banners. They smiled at us from the side of the road, stared at us from walls, and covered every reachable surface. Their presence is almost Big Brother-esque. Without being asked, they told us their names and flaunted all their academic degrees regardless of where and how they got them. Some went further and photoshopped themselves with Obama, Beckham, and Superman. Others were more clueless. And being the cheeky people that we are, we made fun of them again and again and again.

Now, they are gone as fast as a shady reality show star. But wait, who are they that we are talking about?

No, they are not Tukul or Manohara and her greedy mother or Kangen Band. I will seriously sound a lot happier than this if they are gone. Right now, I am talking about our former legislative candidates - more specifically, the tiny percentage of them who had graduated to become members of our legislatures from the lowest level to the highest.

We can remember their omnipresence in the times before the election. You can find them hung between electricity lines, nailed to the trees, glued to the nooks and crannies of the city, and stuck to bajajs, buses, and hawkers’ stalls. Following worldwide trend, the uniting theme was “change” and “youth”. Virtually all the candidates tried to exploit that theme, even if he/she is -or looks like- a septuagenarian from an old-skool political party.

Let it be the thing of the past, although you can still laugh at the absurdity for years to come. What matters is that we already have our representatives-elect from all the electoral districts. According to the news, KPU is still in hot water after a Supreme Court decision regarding the allocation of DPR seats, not to mention the boiling ocean it has been in for their blatant ineptitude in organizing the elections. Let’s skip that part mostly because I don’t grasp what is actually going on. For now, I want to express an idea involving the elected guys.

For the sake of clarity, I am using the terms MP and lawmakers for members of the MPR, the bicameral parliament which consists of DPR and DPD; representative (rep) for members of DPR; and senator for members of DPD. If you know the official translation for those offices, please let me know. And despite this paragraph, I guess I will accidentally mix those terms up anyway.

I’m no politician or political analyst, fortunately. However, I believe I have more or less grasped the concept of representation in the parliament. In Indonesia, citizens of an electoral district are represented in DPR by several reps from different parties and in the DPD by four senators from each province. In lower levels, there are DPR’s in the provincial and regency level. By definition, to represent someone is to speak and act with authority in his/her behalf. Hence, when a district says it wants to outlaw Kangen Band, its MPs should fight for the noble cause in their respective legislatures. In turn, MPs should do a show-and-tell about what they have done in office to their constituents. A little boasting is also welcomed.

People living in developed democracy can understandably take that for granted. They have access to their MPs and their MPs regularly reach out to them. On the other hand, Indonesian voters do not enjoy the level of transparency and accountability a democracy should provide. I personally felt that when I stayed in my aunt’s house in Melbourne. During the month-long vacation, I found out that she receives letters, brochures, and many other publications from her MPs in both the state and federal legislature. I also happen to pass the offices of MPs in the area. Facebook opened my eyes on this matter as well. Because I am a fan of Barack Obama on the site, I get frequent updates and on those updates, the writer urged people to call or mail their own reps to convey a united message.

Those experiences sparked some thinking and questioning. I have been an Indonesian for more than 18 years and nearly all my family members are Indonesians, yet we never come into contact with any of our representatives. I confidently assume that most Indonesians also feel that way. How can they fight for our causes and believes when they don’t even know it? If we want to tell them, how can we do it? It is not so strange when people have the impression that MPs spend too much time hanging out with the big boys, and too little with the ordinary Anto or Joko or David.

Until now, our reps are almost strictly party-line voters, even when they and their constituents stand for something different from what the party wants. A recent example would be the controversial Porn Law, which got the nod from all but two factions in DPR (PDI-P and PDS). Many members betrayed the wish of their constituents from provinces that strongly rejected the bill simply because their parties wanted them to vote yes. One particular representative from Golkar came clean in a Jakarta Post article. This tragedy must never happen again in Indonesia.

I propose that the next members of our legislatures start making huge waves of change in how political representation works. Scratch that. To make political representation work will be more accurate. First, having offices in the district each one of them represents is a minimal. That way, we can get in touch with them and they can reach us. This office must be able to absorb the district’s general opinion regarding a matter, whether by asking or by listening; then relay that opinion to the MP so that he/she can represent it in the legislature. This office will also be responsible for the dissemination of information concerning what the MP has done.

Second, a strong presence in the cyberspace is needed to top off the presence in meatspace. After Obama’s brilliant online campaign, any politician who has a decent website will be accused of stealing a thing or two from Obama’s recipe book. Just don’t listen to this pointless accusation. Everyone will catch up with the trend, eventually; it’s not like Obama invented the internet. Conquering the internet will be even more crucial for MPs representing urban areas, while MPs from rural areas can always have a head start before the constituent gets into teh interwebs through series of tubes. For starters, an official page on Facebook or regular tweeting is acceptable, but it is certainly better if MPs employ local web designers to set up a dynamic, interactive, and up-to-date website.

Additionally, an MP must be extra sensitive about the goings-on in the net. We have to thank YouTube for making it obscenely easy to exaggerate a problem and amass support for it. A frustrated voter who chooses to let hell loose on YouTube can be the undoing of a representative or two. Apart from nipping troubles in the bud, an MP must be cool and hip. What the what, you say. Obviously I don’t expect my MPs to have a burning love for Miley Cyrus or the Jonas Brothers. Being cool and hip is, in this context, being able to grasp the general mood of the people and know what internet meme is growing fast. It may sound silly, but it won’t be when an MP’s gaffe evolves into a world-famous meme and politicians fail to catch it.

Third, MPs must not be afraid of getting down and dirty. They should hold a town hall meeting (the town hall part is figurative, of course) on a regular basis with the people they claim to represent. Constituents will have a chance to vent out whatever issues they have and to check whether the MP has done his job. MPs will, in return, get an opportunity to expound on the policies he makes and convince the people that it is suitable and beneficial for them.

Making these three changes will bring an unprecedented positive change to our politics. The people will be more properly represented in the legislature and enjoy a sense of being in touch with the extension of their voices. Decisions made in the representative bodies will then reflect what the people want even better. Voters will have an established channel to directly send their messages, lodge a complaint, express their outrage, and show their support to the legislative. For example, I would be able to share my love-hate TransJakarta relationship with the provincial representative from South Jakarta and tell them what I think needs to be fixed.

More importantly, constituents can demand greater accountability from their reps. They will have access to where the lawmakers stand on various issues and how they voted a bill. If the people find out that the lawmaker had voted against their wish, they can ask why after giving him/her the benefit of a doubt and a chance to explain that difference.

For the politician, breaking down the walls that separate them from voters will similarly bring its own benefits. It would be easier for MPs to sense the people’s collective vibe, whether they are satisfied or not with how things are going. Problems can be detected earlier and taken care of before blowing up into pure mess, which would damage a politician’s reputation the same way Simon Cowell ruins an auditioner’s day.

The other way around, an MP can use the channel of communication with his/her constituent to report on what have been done and voted in the legislature. A little self-advertising won’t hurt because an MP does deserve praise if he/she does a great work. “The Hon. Mr. X, MP have argued and voted for more spending on school infrastructure” or “The Hon. Mrs. Y, MP rejected bill on legalizing polygamy” - I personally wouldn’t mind getting updates on the successes of the guys who claim to be my voice in the government. Later, this will be an advantage if the MP is seeking another term in office because the people have known this MP’s performance.

The next members of Indonesia’s legislatures haven’t been sworn-in, but I already have high hopes that the “change” that they boasted to bring since the campaign days are not mere repetition of Obama’s buzzword, but real positive change for a better Indonesia.