Sujadi’s Blog

For the first time in more than 3 years since I’ve been posted to Indonesia, I was in Singapore on 9th August as my country celebrated its 43rd Independence Day. I went home to catch the parade and celebrations on TV- at home - with my family. We stood up to sing the national anthem and recited the pledge together withthousands others at the parade location at Marina Bay. And that too was my first - singing the national anthem at home with my family.

2 weeks later, I sang the national anthem again. This time in Jakarta - at a national day celebration organized by the Singapore Embassy. I sang together with hundreds of other Singaporeans and their families gathered at the Anglo Chinese School.

It felt different. I didn’t feel that connected as when I sang the “Majulah Singapura” with my wife and kids - even though we were just at home in front of the TV set. In Jakarta - at the impressive Anglo Chinese School auditorium - I didn’t sing with gusto. There was no feel.

Could it be because my family was not with me in Jakarta to give that “connection”?  Family has been said to keep you rooted. Frankly, despite meeting so many Singaporeans at the celebration, I didn’tfeel too “Singaporean” compared to when I was with my family at home - watching the parade.

By the way - talking about roots - many Singaporeans I met in Jakarta would have known by now that I am a Singaporean. My Indonesian name is courtesy of my late father who hailed from Central Java. So part of my roots are in Indonesia.

Nevertheless, the Singapore food served at the celebration was quite good. Briyani rice, chicken rice, kaya toast, mie goreng etc. Of course they weren’t as good as the ones in Singapore. But as the Singapore ambassador jested it was meant to be that way so that we would always come back home to have the best and the original. Haha! Nice one Mr Ashok!

LIKE FATHER LIKE SON..

Fandi and youngest son, Iryan. Fandi’s 3 other sons have been scouted by Spanish football club Valencia and Italian giant AC Milan.

Met my former secondary school mate who had just moved to Jakarta with his family. And it was nice to hear football stories from Fandi Ahmad who is coaching a local club. By the way his fifth and youngest child, Iryan shares his birthday with Singapore. Pity, this fact was not known at the celebration. May be next year Iryan can lead in singing the national anthem.Hmmm..but would the 2-year old know how to sing the “Majulah” since he lives abroad?

I’ve been asked this question countless times: How do you feel being a Singaporean away from home? The politically correct answer is – I feel proud. Like many Singaporeans, it feels good when others praise Singapore for being efficient, clean and wealthy. Of course I am quick to butt in and say Singapore is rich but not all Singaporeans are rich. There are poor Singaporeans just as there are poor Indonesians. But the general view among ordinary Indonesians is that Singapore is rich and Indonesia is not. While to a large extent this is true, the question I always ask myself is: does this perception of Singapore among ordinary Indonesians really matter?

Being perceived as a rich neighbor comes with certain expectations – namely to assist when the need arises. And being able to be the first to extend a helping hand. Personally, I learnt this a long time ago because I still have many relatives in Central Java. Although I’m sure they are not among the 40 million poor Indonesians, they certainly need help to send their children to school.

Collectively, I believe Singapore has somewhat met this expectation. The 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami presented Singaporeans the opportunity to demonstrate that we have our hearts in the right places. Singapore’s contribution may be small compared to the more than US$6 billion raised by international donors for Indonesia. But if you had the chance to visit Meulaboh, West Aceh – you will hear the locals praising Singapore for its “small” efforts. The orphanages, schools, hospital and the pier Singapore helped rebuild mattered to the people.

But one project which I thought touched the people of Meulaboh most was the memorial for those who perished during the Tsunami. No one bothered about the mass grave that became overgrown with bushes and trees. But Mercy Relief spent SGD80,000 to construct the memorial where more than 20,000 residents were buried. Residents now have a decent place to remember their loved ones and offer prayers. This memorial will be remembered for generations to come.

Upon leaving Meulaboh last month, I met Samsul at the airport – actually more of an airstrip. I saw him during my previous visits. He’s the shoeshine man, in his 30’s, retarded and frankly, quite scary looking. And he looks like the street beggars you’ve seen in many parts of Indonesia. But Eddie - a Mercy Relief staff based in Meulaboh - pointed to me that Samsul is not a street begger. I spoke to him for a bit while waiting for our aircraft. He would not take any handouts. He would only take payments for his shoeshine service. He rejected Eddie’s offer of help for materials to build the roof over his damaged house. Instead he asked for leftover materials. Samsul proudly claimed Eddie is his good friend and vice versa. As I was about to board the single-propeller, Samsul proudly opened his shoe-shine box to show a photo of Eddie and him glued on the inside of cover. It moved me.

Samsul had polished thousands of shoes worn by people from different countries that passed through Meulaboh airport to help in the aftermath of the Tsunami. But its Eddie’s that he remembers most. I supposed Samsul sees Eddie as a friend, not just another NGO worker who came to help. I wonder – collectively - is Singapore similarly seen in the same light by most other Indonesians?