Balance

An inventory of the senses has got to include something about equilibrium; usually neglected in a list if the top five or six. Jakarta more than anywhere else reminds me that bipedal walking is actually a series of little interrupted falls. Tottering along Jakarta’s crowded roads and sidewalks, interruptions come mid-step. In daytime, the curb becomes a tented alley. People cook, sell, wash, squat, eat, sleep, and otherwise carve out their livelihood. Every stride has to account for a dozen or more competing vectors. Chances are good for a collision or an awkward impasse. The concrete slabs are uneven, broken, slippery and yawn without warning into open sewers below. Jostled, tripping, dithered steps, off-plumb all the while. Walking along the street, obstacles are fewer, but velocities much higher. This is not a walker’s city. Crossing traffic is a sport. There only seems to be one law: fall into the empty space.