Adventures at the Night Market

TANGERANG ­– Bright, and colorful LED lights lit up the whole road on a pitch-black Wednesday night, giving a familiar nostalgic kind of feeling like you were in an outdoor circus­. Although, instead of carnival music and animal cries, the speakers were blaring their favorite dangdut and yells were emanating from street vendors all around, selling anything the mind could think of.

With 50 thousand rupiah in my pocket, I climbed out of the car and started exploring Poris Indah night market right away to get rid of the nausea from the bumpy trip. I started to traipse around like a nyctophiliac invigorated by the night with my brother, Josh, who trailed behind me cautiously. We have never been comfortable with the idea of visiting new, unfamiliar places, although this night market, cleverly hidden behind a well-known local supermarket­ in Cipondoh–was only half an hour away from where we lived.

The first interesting object that caught my eye was this flashy ride: a small carousel, stationed right in front of the entrance, surrounded by adults on motorcycles that all looked huge compared to it. My initial thought was, ‘How are they supposed to fit into the ride?’ I came closer and saw that they were apparently just waiting for the riders, who were their little children, all laughing in excitement and having the time of their lives on those tiny horses. On the edge of the ride, a neatly-dressed man stood by, seemingly looking out for the kids while pocketing fares. Josh stood beside me, evidently relaxing as I chuckled at the sight and whipped out my phone to snap photos with my camera.

Suddenly, something even more interesting stopped right in front of us: an odong-odong, which was a form of transportation that I’ve heard of but never seen before in my life. Like an angkot, it was in the form of a fun-sized bus–but friendlier, with cartoon murals painted all over and ornamented with rainbow-like lights. I ran up to the driver’s open window and asked where he was going. “Back to the village! How else are these people going home? I can’t just let them all walk–some of them live pretty far away,” the gleeful man answered. After the odong-odong left, we continued to walk straight ahead to what seemed like the main food place. I ordered sweet iced tea and a kopyor for Josh and sat on a bench with the other visitors, meaning to ask about the place. I inquired a middle-aged woman who looked the friendliest among the rest about the best attractions in this place. She simply pointed east.

With the woman’s advice, we strolled down to the east side of the market until we reached the end of the road. It was worth it: propped right in front of us, was the most humongous inflated castle I had ever seen. My inner-child gasped in wonder as Josh merely rolled his eyes and walked past me towards a scary-looking man who looked like he was in charge. As we approached him, he looked at us warily and hesitated when I introduced myself and asked for permission to interview him. As I explained that it was for schoolwork, he loosened up and motioned us to sit next to him as he lit up a cigarette. When I asked whether we could record our conversation on video, he merely refused.

“This has been here since Poris Indah started up three years ago. We’re open every day from 4 to half past nine–even up to half past eleven on weekends, and with the cheapest price too–only 10 thousand rupiah to play as much as they want,” Nurdin explained. I counted not more than twenty children bouncing on the ride. “This is a weekday. We get about a minimum of a hundred children in there on weekends.” Josh calculated and was impressed since it meant that a day’s income could come to 1,5 million rupiah. “On quiet days like this, we just get about 300 thousand rupiah by the end of the day, but our rent is covered–thanks to the weekends. All us vendors pay up to the boss–he’s normally in charge of the carousel.” I nodded as I recalled the well-dressed man. After thanking Nurdin for his hospitality, we carried onto the other rides.

There was a whole line of miniature buggies parked near the inflated castle. As I took some more pictures, Josh involuntarily approached a parent who was attending to his child to question about the fares. The father of two was more than happy to oblige. “For half an hour, the buggies are 20 thousand rupiah; the small train and inflated castle are 10 thousand rupiah per ride; and that fishing pool over there is 5 thousand rupiah, and you even get to bring the lele fishes home!”

On our way back to the car, I bought myself a generous portion of crispy tahu bulat for 5 thousand rupiah and treated Josh to an Arabian kebab. As we left the bright lights of the boisterous Poris Indah night market, I asked Josh if he wanted to come back for a culinary trip next time. “Definitely,” he replied. “This is one of the best kebabs I’ve ever had!”

Kezia Calesta (TuA)