NOTE TO SELF: A placebo (and a helmet) a day keeps the Dokter away

A couple of weeks ago, as I wiped a stranger’s blood off my shiny white hi-top sneakers, I was afforded a few moments to reflect on how cheap everything is here in Jakarta.

Here, you can buy a delicious lunch from the Nasi Padang lady in the basement under my work for just 80c and if you’re special, she’ll throw in some salmonella at no extra charge. You can get a full mani/pedi for about $8 and some places even include Hepatitis A in the price. If you’re looking to splash out an extra 75% for your bus fare (which works out to be 15c) the driver will come to a COMPLETE STOP to let you on and off.

So, unsurprisingly and much like the rest of the developing world, the inherent value of ‘health and safety’ in Indonesia also is measured on perhaps, the lower end of the scale.

Here, people have bigger things to worry about than the bacteria which causes bad breath and cardboard boxes obstructing the fire-escape. According to the World Health Organisation, 15% of deaths in Indonesia (230,000 people) are due to respiratory diseases like TB and pneumonia (in Australia, it’s less than 5%).  There’s no 000, 911 or 999 in Indo. There’s no medicare and even Indonesia’s “Dokters” fly their own families to Singapore for any treatment of the semi-serious variety.

One of my favourite ice-breakers upon meeting a fellow Indo resident is to ask them the question, “how do you think you’re most likely to die here?”. Morbid I know, but amazingly every single person has provided me with an honest and considered answer. I personally think I would probably trip over something stupid and bang my head, but far and away the most common concern has been “contracting some tropical disease.”

So, you can imagine the possibilities racing through my mind when I recently came down with a high fever, migraine and excruciating stomach cramps. After being directed to an obstetrician TWICE (FYI rubbing your belly is not the international symbol for ‘tummy-ache’) I was eventually diagnosed with a “stressed stomach”, given six different medications and sent on my way.

I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I was!

In the Western world, taking care of one’s self is not cheap, which probably explains why we are all so extravagant with fancy things to protect our expensive healthy bodies…like ‘seatbelts’ and ‘proper electrical wiring’ and ‘refrigeration’ (not to mention all those red wine antioxidants).  But here, all I need is for the Dok to tell me I DON’T have Dengue Fever, Typhoid OR Malaria and I feel like a million dollars. Hurray for Indonesia’s warped spectrum of health!

Looking after yourself in Indo is so cheap in fact, that you can get your entire day’s supply of ‘healthiness’ from one glass of “Jamu”; a dirt-like drink served out the front of your house by your favourite Ibu (means ‘lady’) Jamu.

Jamu has been used here for centuries as a traditional treatment for every imaginable health need, including skin whitening, ear-ache and even making one’s v*gina “tight as a chicken’s anus” (if that’s what you’re into…).

Here I am pictured with my ex-Ibu Jamu.

I didn’t know it at the time, but for most of October and November (and in this photo) she was giving me a drink for “Womb Cleansing” (FYI rubbing your belly is also not the universal symbol for, “I have visited Ibu Nasi and Ibu Goreng a lot these last few months and now I have a nasi baby, I would like a tonic to help me lose it”).

Nonetheless, I am a JAMU LUVA 4 LIFE since a recent persistent case of the sniffles was brought to a halt my new Ibu Jamu’s incredible 60c “Influesa” treatment, containing a veritable powershot of 135% placebo AND 5% MYRISTICAE SEMEN!(?)

Unforch, I am yet to find the placebo that protects one from serious injury.

Which brings us back to my blood stained hi-tops.

I was enjoying a morning cycle along what is normally Jakarta’s biggest, meanest, most clogged artery during the monthly ‘Car Free Day’ when I witnessed a fairly horrific accident between a cyclist and a motorbike. Gotta love a Car Free Day.

I know the motorcylist was OK because he removed his HELMET and began to shout profanities at everyone in his vicinity.  Unfortunately my limited first aid skills (did I mention I was a scout?) were of little help to the poor cyclist who was busy not dying from his extensive head wounds including the loss of all of his front teeth due to the fact that he was NOT wearing a HELMET.

Cycle man did go to the hospital and he will be ok (by Indonesian health care standards) but it was a deeply distressing, frustrating and sobering reminder that here, even life is cheap.

Then again, you’ve always got your health.