Some Impressions of Indonesia by Lane Tauroa The Rev. Lane Tauroa, a Methodist Minister, is in Indonesia under the sponsorship of the National Council of Churches. ‘Oh for some sunshine!’ On numerous occasions I had expressed this longing as I shivered through a King Country winter. However, at this moment I would welcome a real dinkum hoary King Country frost, or a biting wind straight off Ruapehu. I've basked in twelve months of sunshine and heat and I've ‘had it’. In West Java it is perpetual summer, perpetual harvest. I don't mean that we never have rain; we certainly do. In the wet season we can count on a tropical downpour daily. However the heat remains, so that one becomes sticky rather than cool.

The Whole Region a Huge Garden The rich volcanic soil of West Java, with the rain and the sunshine, make the region a huge garden. Crop succeeds crop without interruption. On the flats, paddy (rice) is the chief crop. The paddy marches up the lower slopes of the hills by way of terraces. Higher up are vegetables of every kind and higher still are the tea-shrubs. The fruit includes pine-apple, coconut, papaya, mango, banana, apukuk, durian, oranges, and other tropical varieties. These are all delicious, but it takes a little courage to try durian, which has a revolting smell, just like our corn steeped in water. My family and I landed in Djakarta, a city about 3,500,000, in December 1963. Stepping from the plane on to the tarmac was like walking into an oven. I am a little more acclimatised now, but still find the heat oppressive. I've trudged the streets of New York in high summer, and it can be hot there. However, in New York (or Auckland for that matter) one can look forward to fall and winter. Here in Java there is no autumn or winter, simply a wet season and a dry season. Djakarta is a bustling, crowded city. The streets are jammed with traffic. Cars, trucks, buses, bemos (three-wheeled taxi), bicycles, betjaks, jostle for right-of-way. Motor traffic includes the latest model cars from Europe, the United States, Japan and Russia. Of course there are jalopies, but I couldn't help noticing the new cars, for there were many models which I had read about in motoring magazines but had never seen before.

Startling Contrast Between Rich and Poor Some folk in Indonesia are wealthy, but there are many more who are desperately poor. Soon after our arrival we were on the way to a shopping centre, when we had to stop at a railway crossing. Ahead of us was a long line of chromium-plated, fish-tailed vehicles whose occupants were being beseiged by numerous beggars dressed in rags — men, women, and children. The contrast between rich and poor is startling to a New Zealander. The betjak is the cheapest form of public transport available. It is a three-wheeled bicycle (two front wheels, one rear) pedalled by the driver, which has seating for two passengers. Since there is no set fare, bargaining goes on until an acceptable price is reached. The intending passenger holds most of the cards, for betjak men badly need the money, or they would not be engaged in such strenuous work. In Djakarta's heat, the job is not easy.

Largely Planned by the Dutch The Dutch were largely responsible for planning the city. It stands on reclaimed swamp land, drained by canals. These sluggishly-flowing canals serve many of Djakarta's residents as toilet, wash-room and bathing-pool. Thus the sights along the canals are apt to be somewhat of a shock to a new arrival. Summarising my first impressions, I would describe Djakarta as a city of oppressive heat and hordes of people, which exhibits a heart-breaking contrast between rich and poor. I have seen men, and women too, shouldering loads which would give a good New Zealand