Dear Jakarta, we live with you!

Strolling around Jakarta.
Mixed with the roadside life.
Something that I'd already missed for some times.
Things that we only can describe (and call) them in Bahasa : abang-abang, gerobak tukang, pedagang kaki lima, warung, etc.

Life, which happens around us, together with our own life, with the same sky shelter and the same oxygen : jakarta's. Things that we really want to forget, as if it doesn't exist. As if, the better ground we step in, could describe ourself as a better person.
They. We. No difference. The ground where we are, though it is made of marble or granite, is the same as their ground, though is made of soil or broken asphalt.

I looked at the the batagor's, siomay's, mie ayam's, padangnese satay's, gorengan's sellers. They waited their customers, patiently. Their life depends on the customers, more customer means more money. More customer means more breathe they (and their families) can take on the following days.

I ordered one bowl of chicken noodles. 7000 rupiahs. And one bottle of teh sosro. 3000 rupiahs. Total 10000 rupiahs.
"Sir, I hope it could help you to breathe.. in our dear Jakarta.."

And we continued our trip, by a private vehicle, I located another abang-abang with his gerobak, he was walking with a sweaty face. He looked up the sky, stared blankly at the cloudy sky. I believed, he prayed in his heart.. he was hoping that it wasn't gonna rain. He needed more customers.

Oh my dear Jakarta,
you are the life, which many people was dreaming about.
We live our life with you!


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