"I'm sorry, the counter is already closed. Maybe check the Lion Air office for another flight?"
I stare at the girl working the check-in counter in disbelief. Surely she must be joking. I've been in a cab for a few hours, stuck in Jakarta traffic that seems to have no limits, through accidents, construction, and countless cars and motorbikes. I'm exhausted. I've been exploring Jakarta for the past few days, a city larger and possibly more chaotic than New York City. I'm running out of money and I haven't even started my Singapore and Thailand trip. I haven't had my morning coffee. To top it all off, my cab driver dropped me off at the domestic Lion Air terminal, not the international one, so I had to wait for a shuttle bus to transport me and my embarrassingly large backpack to an entirely different terminal.
Not the best way to start the morning. And I'm not a morning person.
"Maaf, saya tidak mengerti. Apa?" I ask slowly, not understanding. The girl smiles patiently. "The counter is closed, Miss." She repeats herself in English to ensure I fully understand. "You cannot take this flight."
I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I don't cry. If I'm crying, something's really wrong and I'm visibly upset, which is unacceptable behavior in Java. I've been anticipating this trip for a long time. I'm going to Singapore with friends and the trip couldn't come at a better time. Apparently, though, that plan just came to a screeching halt.
I mumble a 'Terima kasih" and rush off to the Lion Air office. The man at the counter is young. Handsome, too. I hastily explain my dilemma in Indonesian, mentioning that I arrived at the exact moment the counter was closing, and couldn't they make an exception for me as a frequent Lion Air customer? He responds in impeccable English that they can't and that I will have to take the next flight at 11:15 for 900.000 rupiah (approximately $100 USD), which is double what I originally paid for the ticket. Fighting back tears, I explain that I have to make this flight and that my friend is on the flight. I tell him that I'm a teacher and I can't afford to pay for a new flight. I communicate my frustration at the fact that Lion is making me pay Rp. 900.000 for a seat in category Q on the next flight because there is no remaining seat in category D (both are economy seats that are exactly the same) when I've already paid Rp. 400.000 for my ticket. I'm furious, panicked, annoyed, and worried about finances.
But he won't budge.
It is at that moment that I realize the irony of my situation. For a year and a half, I've silently begged Indonesia to get its act together. From the immigration official who sits and smokes while your KITAS papers sit untouched on his desk and you've been waiting for 2 days for them to the policeman who bribes you for money, just because you happen to be on his road, inefficiency and corruption infiltrate every level of Indonesian society. Oh, you lost something on the public Kijang that took you to Makale? Maybe if you bring the driver a pack of cigarettes, he will check his car for you. In America, we call that corruption. Here, Indonesians call it the polite thing to do when you ask someone for help.
We Americans roll our eyes at the inflated prices we receive from street vendors because we're foreigners. We boast that our police force doesn't accept bribes, that our buses leave on time, that things run on an efficient and reliable schedule with little deviation. Yet when we need a favor from an Indonesian police officer, we don't hesitate to break the rules so things can work out according to how we want them to work out. We grow accustomed to the broken system, complain when it doesn't work in our favor, and at the same time, condemn the system as being inefficient and inferior to our own.
That's when it hit me. Today, Indonesia was functioning they exact way I've wanted it to for 2 years. Today, Indonesia was being American. Lion Air was running a business the way United Airlines or Delta or any other company would in America.
I can't stamp my Western foot when things don't work out the way I want. I've been here long enough to know better. It's my fault I missed my flight, not Indonesia's. I've lived in Jakarta before and I should have anticipated heavy traffic, construction, and accidents. I can't expect cities, traffic, and airline companies to bend rules for me? They don't in America. Why should I expect them to here? Instead of bemoaning the extra 900.000 rupiah I have to pay because I didn't plan well, I should be grateful that this mistake didn't occur in the U.S., where my error would have cost hundreds of dollars.
I finally understand the Islamic concept of "insyallah" here. People always respond with "Insyallah" when they make plans. Why? Because you don't know what the future holds or what obstacles might stand in your way. "Can you go to Makassar with me in December?" "Insyallah." "Will you come to my party?" ":Insyallah."
If God wills.
If God wills, I will do x, y, and z. If God wills, I will go to the party or to Singapore or to whereever.
And that's where my religion, Christianity, kicks in. Yes, my future plans will work out if God wills. However, God wants us to take action and be responsible people. We can't sit back and wait for God to do everything for us. I can't wait for God to pull a miracle rabbit out of some divine magic hat and fix a problem I created through poor planning. That's not how it works. I need to be responsible and anticipate obstacles to my plans, especially travel plans. I can't blame Indonesia. I can't use God as a good luck charm.
Indonesia does have flaws. The way women are treated here certainly bothers me. The corruption and inefficiency of the bureaucracy continually frustrates me. Those are things I cannot change. However, I can change my attitude and my reaction to unexpected obstacles. Instead of being continually frustrated with the transportation system and unexpected challenges, I need to learn to work with the system and make the best of it.
Besides, this is Indonesia. Everything works out in the end. It just doesn't work out in the time frame my Western personality would like. But it does work out.
Why worry?
