Will You Pick Me Up at School?

Hello! How are you? It's been awhile since my last post. I hope you still find my blog interesting after this two months of my absence. It was quite busy these past two months. I have struggling with my career and so on. Anyway, let's get into the business. I want to share some stories based on my experience this afternoon.

It was 1 pm and I'm on a fine dining restaurant waiting to meet someone. The place is not entirely restaurant, actually it was a multi-functioned building filled with many offices. The restaurant was at the 2nd floor of the building. What has struck my mind is that the building consist of a pre-elementary school (and elementary school also). The time keep ticking and the clock has showed 2 pm. The elevators opened and I saw little angels are rushing out. They were accompanied by their babysitter of course. They, then, have lunches in the restaurant.

I found it really sad to see a school inside a multi-functioned building which also consist of restaurant and many offices. Back then, I still remember that my elementary school was in the middle of residents. We had a football field, gardens, and many land spaces. I went to school by bicycle with my friends. But I do notice that this school I saw is not a regular school. There are many foreign students. There are blondes, black skinned curly boy, but there are also Indonesians. I understand that due to the limited space in Jakarta, this school exist to fulfill the needs of education in this elite surroundings in the middle of Jakarta, and I also understand that this school must has cost more than the regular one.

While I saw them had their lunch, I start to thinking their parents. What kind of parents they have? What is their job? Where do they live? And where do they work? With this kind of situation, I barely believe that they have time for their children. While I think of that, once again, I saw the elevators opened and I saw adult peoples in suits and dresses are rushing out. They were smiling and calling their child names. It was a heart touching moment. They speak in many languages, I heard English, Japanese, Korean, and Indian. I keep thinking, despite of their busy schedule, they spare some times to pick up their child. They were playing, joking, and laughing each other.

Curiosity made me follow them into the outside of the building. There was a long queue of cars. Each of them had one driver. But sadly, there was a kid that didn't picked up by his parent. You guess it, an Indonesian boy. He was accompanied by a babysitter and picked up by his driver. Well, I am not surprised at all.

For quite some time, I think about this phenomena which I have seen. I think it is not about how modern you are in raising your kids, but how care you are in raising them. Many Indonesian parents still think that their hard work is for the future of their kids. They spent much times for their careers, and often leaving their children moments for their job. Yes, it isn't wrong, but I think it is more important that you have to be there for the future of your kids. I know that Indonesian boy's feeling, because I have been there. I begin to think that wealth won't change you much. It's about culture, and we can still learn to fix it.

Time goes by and rain has falling. I cancelled my meeting because I was waiting too long for someone I want to meet and decide to go back to my place. The traffic jam made me realize how this city eats people's time. It corrupts you. Jakarta is the "mother"-city of Indonesia. I think it should act more like a mother has to.