When A Street Crime Is Negotiable

That is true a bad guy will not be the bad guy forever. Sometimes, depending on the situation, a bad guy, in fact, still has compassion to his victim. No matter it’s because of pity or something else, but crime in Jakarta is not always appears in horror. The spirit of hometown solidarity for example, is also one of the factors that can be used to win the crime. It’s like what had happened to my team (my subordinate) when I was working for a private bank in Jakarta.

Just call him Fresman. May be his parent expected him to always being fresh, I don’t know, but that’s true, his temperament is cool, calm, and always smiles – never looked stressful in any situation. He was very good and talented person in his job. He could always accomplish every job that I gave to him, as long as I described a clear instruction and a clear target date. And, every job was done rightfully.

One day he came lately to office, gasped for breath and came to my desk in hurry.
“Sorry sir, I am late,” he said while wiping his sweat.
I looked at him at a glance, and he showed me his smile, giggling.
“It’s ok, what’s up by the way?” I replied flatly.
“I was pick-pocketed in the bus, sir”
“Oh? Hmm…what have you lost…wallet, money, or…?”
“No, sir, just my hand phone,” he replied smilingly.
“Ok, a new hand phone?”
“That’s the old one, sir, but so important to me.”
“Okay, Fresman…so?” my voice floated.

I then let him back to work and easily forgot about it. How could I do? In the great Jakarta, if someone lost his/her valuable things in a bus because of being pick-pocketed, don’t ever to cry or lament. It’s better if you soon forget about that rather than expecting the lost things would be discovered. Just go back to enjoy living in Jakarta, and enjoy the bus where we sit and stand among the pick-pockets every day.

The following day Fresman came lately again. He was late almost 2 hours. He again apologized and explained to me.
“Sorry, sir, I am late again,” he said calmly.
“It’s ok, what’s up?” I replied curiously.
“I waited for the bus that I rode yesterday, stood-up in front of UKI (Universitas Kristen Indonesia) – Cawang for almost 1 hour till the bus passed by.”
“Why? Why should you wait for the bus?”
“To search my lost hand phone, sir.”
“How do you know that was the bus you rode yesterday?” I asked him confusedly.
“I remember the driver, sir, because he comes from the same hometown with me,” he said.
“Ohh, do you know each other?”
“No, sir, I knew him only from his dialect when he talks, I explained that I lost my hand phone yesterday then asked him for help,” Fresman added.
“Ha..ha..ha..Fresman, how could? You are joking, just forget your hand phone and buy a new one,” I laughed.
“I am sure, sir,” he replied firmly, “because I have spoken with the driver using our hometown accentual.”
My eyebrow was raised-up.
“Then, what did he say?” I asked.
“He only looked at me a second and asked me to mention my complete name, then the hand phone brand as well as the number.”
I laughed at Fresman and thought how funny he was. Then I looked-at him left my desk slowly to go back for work.

In reality, crime in Jakarta sometimes turns to a funny and a sentimental story, not so fearful as many people think (don’t be misperception because street crime is remain crime anyway). But the street criminal, or ‘preman’ as they are better known, sometimes cannot bring himself, too.

A preacher who dedicated his life to win the heart of ‘red axe’ criminal in Jakarta, in a sharing to a congregation that I also attended, told us that the preman are human being, too. Thus, their heart can be touched, too. I respect to the preacher for what he did. If not people like him who care to approach them, who will bring them out from the street? He came to the gang nest at around Jalan Pramuka, then delivered a sermon once a week. The group of preman was listening to the sermon while remain sharpening their axes. Never mind, he said, as long as the sermon has been delivered. His job was just sowing the seeds, let God determine the seeds to grow. Well, some of the preman sometimes cried, wiped the tears and sobbed.

I didn’t know what did Fresman do. But in the third day he came lately again and came to my desk in rush.
“Sir, I…,” he shouted.
“Fresman, I know you want to beg a pardon, don’t you?” I cut his sentence before he finished explaining.
“Yes sir, please forgive me for late,” he replied softly. But then he groped around in his pocket and took something outside.
“Here is my lost hand phone, sir, I got it,” he said smilingly.
“Wow…really? How did you find that? Tell me.”
“I waited for the same bus in front of UKI, and when the bus arrived, I came to the driver quickly. By looking at me, he then threw it to me – wrapped with used papers.”
“Wow, excellent! How much you redeemed your hand phone then?” I asked.
“Nothing, sir. The driver just conveyed a regard to me and went away quickly.”

I laughed at Fresman again for his smart negotiation, and he won.

***
Serpong, 21 April 2009
Titus J.