I used to think that news was the only program I could watch on Indonesian TV channels. So-called infotainments had gone pass their guilty-pleasure status to simply degrading. And now they’re replacing prechers with clowns, while local TV dramas aren’t just abysmal, but they’re also capable to brainwash audience and turn them into a toad. I don’t want to be a toad. I prefer to be an animal with a soft skin.

But now the news are also unbearable to watch because they keep reminding you it’s a terrible time to live here. Bombs, bird flu, gasoline price hike and how people getting poorer and poorer because of it. Many small school kids have to hitchhike trailer trucks to school because they can’t afford to take public transportations which have adjusted their fare to the gasoline price.

The government try to give away cash, 100 thousands Rupiah (USD 10) per family every month, to poor people to compensate the price hike. I just can’t imagine how they’ll do that.

When I was still a journalist, I once followed some officials from the National Bureau of Statistics conducting census on poor people in Jakarta. They started around midnight and then drove to a slum area in East Jakarta. After taking data from five homeless people, they were ready to go home. When I asked why, they said they already had enough data. If this how they do their census, how do they know to whom they should give the cash?

I remember when I was in Junior High, my mother would look at my father’s hand-written paycheck note for half an hour, wondering how she would manage the money for a month. Because my father always took some cash advance, my mother would only receive 35,000 Rupiah (USD 3,5) a month. We were lucky because my mother was clever enough to make rice and soya sauce plus some of her secret spices taste like first-class risotto. But I don’t think many of poor people out there are as creative as she was.

This morning, however, I accidentally tuned on to a news program on our local TV station which showed a 10 year-old boy named Zulkifli recovered from bird flu. He was diagnosed with the disease and predicted not to be able to live for more than two weeks. But he did recover. I saw him playing with his friends at school. The boy who wore glasses and looked like Harry Potter seemed very happy. Somehow, his smile gave me hope. Indonesia is Zulkifli when he was still sick. I hope we will recover like he did.

Last night, I took my good friend Angie home after we visited a friend. After she called Buddy, her husband, she asked me to drive her to her parents in-law’s house on the F street because Buddy was there.

It was a few minutes after midnight. We arrived there and Buddy showed up. We chatted some then decided to go to eat near AA mosque in South Jakarta. After I missed the turn to the lively spot where people always hang out late, I decided to make a u-turn somewhere. I made a mistake by making the u-turn at the circle near RP shopping mall.

“Are we allowed to make a u-turn here?” asked Angie.

“I don’t know,” I said.

We saw a policeman giving us sign to stop. I didn’t know exactly why I decided to keep going. The policeman got on his big motorbike.

“Fuck. He’s chasing us.” Buddy said.

“We’re going to jail,” Angie covered her eyes with he hand.

I floored the gas pedal. Two slow cars were blocking my escapade. After I almost hit one of the car, it gave us a way. “You’re out of your fucking mind, man.” Buddy sounded pissed.

I had never been a law-breaker. (I don’t do things that are universally illegal like mooning to the President. I occasionally do things that are illegal here but legal in, say, the Netherlands).

It was too late to stop, I thought. The road was empty and I was sure I could lose the policeman. For a moment, we didn’t see him. Then he appeared behind us.

“Fuck!” I said and made a left turn to a residential area in a hope that I could hide in one of the small roads.

But all the small streets were blocked by the portals. Buddy decided to be my navigator.

“Turn right,” he said. I turned right but the road was also blocked.

After a few turns, we lose the policeman. We got on the main street again when Buddy told me to make another u-turn. I asked why.

“He’ll think that we go straight,” he said.

We drove pass the policeman. When he thought we had him fooled, he also made a u-turn. The chase was back on. My car was going zig-zag like mad.

“Ok. We’re gonna die,” Angie said.

Everytime I tried to make a turn to a small road, it was blocked.

“Let’s go to my house,” Buddy said.

“Where the fuck is your house?” I said.

“You never came to my place?” Buddy asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!”

“WE’RE GOING TO JAAAAIL..!” Angie screamed.

When I saw a small road unblocked, I made a turn. But halfway, we found ourselves trapped. The road was also blocked. The policeman appeared behind us.

“That’s it, man. Game over.” Buddy said.

We sat still.

I rolled down my window, expecting the cop to scream at us. But he didn’t scream. He was being very nice.

“You shouldn’t try to get away like that,” he said.

I said sorry and he asked me to get out of the car to his motorbike.

“So how it’s gonna be? If I give you ticket, you’ll have to go to court and go through many process. It’ll probably cost you 250,000 Rupiah,” he said.

I gave it a shot and said, “Can I just give you the money?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said.

“But I only have two hundreds,” I bargained.

He looked at me and sighed. “Ok,” he said.

I gave him the money and he gave me back my license.

When I got back in the car, Angie and Buddy had been waiting impatiently. I told them that I paid the policeman off.

“You can’t drive, man. I’ll drive,” Buddy said.

I let Buddy take the steering wheel.

We were supposed to turn left to go back to his mother’s house but he turned right.

“We are you going?” I asked him.

“Yeah, where are you going?” Angie asked her husband.

We were heading back to the circle where it’s forbidden to make a u-turn.

“I’m gonna show you how to lose a policeman,” Buddy said.

“FUCK!” I said when Buddy stepped on the gas and broke the law.

Moments later, another policeman on a big bike was chasing us.

“BUDDY, STOP THE CAR NOW!” Angie said.

“Are you kidding? This is a lot more fun than Playstation!” Buddy kept going.

He was right. He drove better than me. Buddy made several turns to small roads. He was laughing because the policeman was barely on our trail.

For a dramatic effect, I turned on my iPod and looked under the playlist “Classics” and selected Nine Inch Nails’ The Perfect Drug.

“We lost him!” Buddy said. But then we saw the policeman behind us.

“We’re going to jail for sure this time,” I said.

Buddy made more turns.

“Don’t worry. My uncle’s house is nearby,” Buddy said. He was laughing again because we almost reached the house.

“Here we are…” Buddy said. The policeman was nowhere in sight.

But nobody opened the gate for us. Buddy horned several times. Nobody showed up… Except the policeman.

“Fucking stupid man,” I said.

“Game over,” Angie said.

Luckily, Buddy was able to pay off the policeman.

Angie was mad and she took over the steering wheel.

“You two are stupid. I’ll drive.” She said.

We let her drive, hoping that she would try to lose another policeman. But she didn’t. We were disappointed. She’s no team player.

• (Part of the event has been dramatized. Angie and Buddy are not real names)