Posted by Diaspora Magazine 6 COMMENTS

This Saturday you will be given a chance to speak to members of Parliament. Yes, that’s right. Representatives from Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat will be coming down to the Indonesian Embassy to Singapore (KBRI) to talk to you. This is an opportunity that you will rarely receive in Indonesia but comes plentiful in Singapore. It is one of the advantages of living here and all of you are invited to come on Saturday 7pm at KBRI, dressed in your best batik.

Here’s what usually happens: the event will start at 7pm where guests are welcomed to a buffet spread of Indonesian cuisine then it is followed by an introduction from our dear Ambassador using one of his favourite speeches. I have heard it five times at least and I hope to be able to recite the numbers by heart this Saturday. After the formalities, the fun begins. The floor is open for questions from the audience. The question and answer session is the most exciting part of all of this. You might think politics is dreary but Indonesian politics makes for an entertaining show.

When an opportunity to talk to members of parliament crops up, several characters emerge from the seats. The same caricatures will stand and ask questions. It’s a very predictable spectacle.

There will likely be a domestic worker who will highlight welfare issues pertinent to our compatriots here who persistently receive low wages, mistreatment and lack of legal protection. Whatever her question may be, the panel will likely to give her a very misguided answer. Trust me, they didn’t do their homework before coming here.

Next, there will be a sailor who will present an issue on immigration related to their ambiguous status as a floating marine citizen. The panel, arriving unprepared, will not be able to address that but will say that they will note it down to bring it up on the agenda. No actual note-taking will be taking place by said panel. It will slip from their mind as easily as a thick envelope slips into their hands at the end of the night.

Ah, after that a man -it’s always a man- will step onto the plate. First he will introduce himself and his business plan. Then he will bring up an issue tangential to his business. It’s likely to be about regulations or increased trade cooperation. If he’s savvy enough, he will open the possibility for cooperation for the Parliament with his business. The panel will likely to quote some statistics pulled out from the air, or they will deflect the issue with a promise for some private conversation later on.

Next, there will likely be a young student -having gathered up enough courage- who will ask what he thought would be a challenging question, fooled into thinking his youth stands as a symbol for rebellion. The panel will appeal to his bravado and say something along the lines of “Yes, we should let the youth rise!” without addressing the issue. The student, satisfied, will sit back down but he missed the condescension hidden in the flattery.

Finally, there will be a professional armed with a taunt and a blistering retort over what one of the panel have said earlier. It may have been a poor answer but this is a cheap shot, aimed solely to belittle the panel. Neither seeking feedback nor solutions, he and his friends will enjoy the moment when the panel fumbles for an answer.

I don’t want to name names for the sake of my own neck but this scene has happened before. I am willing to wager half a chicken that this will happen again on Saturday. Little constructive dialog occurs and the panel will enjoy their Orchard Road shopping spree the next day. Everybody goes home and we wonder why the Parliament is in a state that it is in today.

This isn’t enough for me. I will not settle for the answer that “This is Politics.” It’s a cheap excuse. Let’s examine why dialogue breaks down. Perhaps it is simpler and more manageable than we think.

Members of parliament come here unprepared, bolstered by confidence of having to deal with a room full of people who are usually less educated than themselves. The easy comforting answers that they are used to providing will not go down well in Singapore.

Members of the audience mostly come for the social obligation or the free food. Some come with the earnest hope to be heard by someone higher up in the food chain however they do not know which organ of the policy making body these legislative representatives come from thus their complaints may fall on deaf ears. Some come for the mockery.

Notice a pattern here? If we’re looking for constructive dialogue, what is missing is a lack of preparation from either side. Both do not know where the other is coming from.

I expect that these fine gentleman and ladies from our Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat are well-versed in their roles for their respective divisions. I don’t expect someone from the education division to be able to address the issue of energy security or trade so do not be disheartened if they cannot answer your question about the potential for green energy development in South Sumatra. Therefore, who you ask your question to is just as important as what you are asking.

To facilitate dialogue, we have to know who we will be talking to. They are Tantowi Yahya, Effendi Choirie and Rachel Maryam.

To find out who they are, watch out for the next article in the series. In the meantime, save the date! This Saturday, 24th April 2010, 7pm at KBRI come for the DPR dialogue.

categories: Perspektif





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Hey Diaspora! This is the place for misplaced and displaced young Indonesians who are living on a tiny island-nation in Singapore. Diaspora is a bilingual magazine updated virtually everyday, filled with our lives, our hopes, our opinions and our thoughts.