Death and All of Her Friends
Four women chin-wag in the middle of the sea of tombstone. Penggilingan Public Cemetery, which was previously a swampy area of East Jakarta. They came from a slum settlement on the periphery.
“There were only 10 graves and the bodies would float haphazardly during a heavy rain season”
“We had no sanitation facilities. It was normal to go around this graveyard area, so we could hide and secretly dig the earth to defecate”
The booming of Jakarta middle class in 1980s had created a more demand for cemetery land. Suddenly, Penggilingan changed into a six-feet-under service zone, diversifying the livelihood of community and growing its ecology. Each person has their own role starting from grave digger, stone artist, florist, food hawker, to cleaning service. And most them are women.
“All of us have no husband. They left us with different reasons. One was deceased and other were leaving without any clear message”
“I have to be the breadwinner in order to survive”
Being overpopulated in two decades, a government instruction couple of years ago called for an end to any additional tomb. It was, surprisingly, declined by the community, represented by women group, who actively involved in the whole cemetery business. As a result, government allowed multiple use of a burial ground in which the instruction was appropriated, a person who shared bloodlines might share their tract of land. Once again, the wheel of fortune revolved by the hands of relentless women.
“It is merely dead bodies. And nothing more. We should care of the living than the dead”
