From as long ago as the turn of the 18th century, tales of the beauty of the women strolling the notorious Kalijodo red-light district, on the border between West Jakarta and North Jakarta, have lured many into experiencing the vibes of Indonesia’s oldest complex of brothels. The Jakarta Post delved into Kalijodo to explore its underbelly and uncovering the secret of its longevity. Here are the stories:

The typical welcome afforded to visitors to the Kalijodo red-light district comes from the stream of sex workers and their handlers out on the street.

One mamasan who goes by the improbable name of Ncim, a middle-aged Chinese-Indonesian woman, repeatedly thrusts her 19-year-old charge, Imel, onto visitors fresh off the proverbial boat.

“She’s very good at doing things all night long, and for a reasonable price, only Rp 100,000 [US$10.70] for a short time,” she says.

When no one takes the bait, Ncim chisels the price down to Rp 80,000.

“I usually get Rp 20,000 for each trick the girl turns, and the pimp gets Rp 30,000,” she later tells The Jakarta Post.

“The rest goes to the girl.”

Ncim is among hundreds of veteran mamasans and pimps working the 1.5-kilometer stretch along the Grogol River lined with Kalijodo’s 100 brothels and pubs.

The red-light area straddles Penjaringan district in North Jakarta and Tambora district in West Jakarta.
Spread over 2.8 hectares, it’s open 24 hours a day and caters mostly to middle- and lower-income Jakartans, including civil servants, police, truckers, dock workers, street thugs and university students.

Kalijodo means “river of destiny”, and fittingly enough it has come to epitomize Jakarta’s seedy underbelly thriving amid the capital’s ups and downs, the elephant in the room that pays the rent.

The bizarre love child of organized crime and a corrupt bureaucracy and law enforcement system, Kalijodo came into being as a cash cow.

While prostitution is illegal, many of the brothels are located just 20 meters from the local district office, and 100 meters from a police station, lending credence to allegations that Kalijodo is a source of income for many bureaucrats and police officers.

Jakarta Police spokesman Sr. Comr. Boy Rafli Amar and Jakarta administration spokesman Cucu Ahmad Kurnia both declined to comment to the Post on the issue.

Besides the obvious corrupt officials looking for a slice of the pie, chronic urban poverty and unemployment are also key factors behind Kalijodo’s thriving flesh trade.

City officials have repeatedly pointed out the difficulty of closing down the brothels without upsetting Jakarta’s fairly stable security situation.

The livelihoods of at least 5,000 people — from hoodlums to sex workers, brothel owners to waitstaff, cigarette and food vendors to local residents — are tied to the continued existence of the district.

Closing down the brothels will only force the people to move to other areas to ply their trade, say critics.

Worse yet, the neighboring residential areas are among Jakarta’s poorest, for whom a sliver of the proceeds from Kalijodo’s lucrative business has always meant a lot.

“This isn’t exactly the most appropriate place to raise a family, but I don’t have any other choice than to stay here to make ends meet,” says local resident Yati, who runs a food stall in the area.

“I feel bad for my kids because people always think negatively of you when you say you live in Kalijodo.”

A ballpark figure for a day’s worth of business in Kalijodo is about Rp 60 million, half of which goes toward keeping bureaucrats and police “happy”, says one brothel owner.

Intan, the largest club in the area, pulls in Rp 6 million a day on weekdays, says manager Layla Tanjung.

“We make more on the weekends,” she says, but declines to go into detail.

She says Intan and the other brothels like it also benefit from endorsement deals with breweries.
Intan, which means diamond, is the jewel in Kalijodo’s crown. Luxury cars and motorcycles are a common sight in the closely guarded parking lot outside.

Inside, the club has a massive 160-square-meter dance floor kitted out with sophisticated sound and lighting systems.

“Hostesses” flutter around like butterflies, dancing with their guests to the dangdut beats.

Even by Kalijodo standards, Intan stands out. It is owned by Kalijodo’s very own “godfather” of thugs, says Maya, a senior hostess at Intan.

She says the owner, nicknamed Haji Aziz, is a native of Makassar who controls the prostitution business in much of Kalijodo.

“He’s notorious here, everyone knows him,” Maya says.

“He won a turf war against the Mandar group, which used to run the northern part of the district.”
The Mandar and Makassar are both ethnic groups from South Sulawesi.

Maya claims Haji Aziz sends his goons round to all the other brothels every day to collect Rp 110,000 each in protection money, raking in around Rp 500 million a month just from this.

“Lately he’s had a pang of conscience about his past deeds, so he’s now studying law at university,”
she says.

In Feb. 2002, several media outlets reported Haji Aziz’s notorious act when he pointed a gun at the Penjaringan Police chief back then, Adj. Comr. Khrisna Murti, during a brawl with the Mandar.

Haji Aziz could not be reached for comment.

Another brothel steeped in notoriety is Semilir (breezy), which sports a catchy “Strictly condom-use zone” notice on the outside.

Semilir is located in a narrow alley, at basement level. Inside, the murky 15-square-meter dance floor is streaked with tawdry red and blue disco lights.

Deafening trance music booms from an old subwoofer hanging from the wooden ceiling.

As midnight draws closer, more customers gather around a small plastic table sagging beneath bottles of beer.

“They’re regulars, mostly construction workers,” says Ncim, who then steals a glance at the illuminated wooden stairway leading up to the private rooms.

The rooms themselves are clean and individually air-conditioned.

Semilir is among a hundred or so run-down cathouses peppered around Kalijodo, all with the
same feel: A makeshift pub and disco with dim lighting and ear-splitting dangdut or trance music on the first floor, and rooms on the upper floors.

Behind Semilir lies a labyrinth full of surprises, serpentine alleyways and narrow lanes crisscrossing through the densely inhabited center of the red-light district.

The passageways are lined with colorful brothels and decked out with sex workers, mamasans and pimps, all eagerly piling onto prospective customers.

“Wanna drop by? We have beautiful and sexy ladies for you,” says one pimp, chanting the regulation call that all visitors hear.

A peak into the brothels is an eye-opening lesson taught by sex workers performing all manner of tricks in a noisy, dingy room to lure visitors.

Not all the women in the area turn tricks. Some are freelance singers drawn to this honeypot of iniquity in the hope of siphoning a living from the flow of money.

“I still have my dignity,” says local resident Icha, 20.

“I work here as a singer and hostess, accompanying customers only in a casual manner.”  (tsy/rch)

Popular

Government to permanently relocate 10,000 people after Ruang eruptions

Kokubo's injury time penalty save secures title for Japan

Residents fear for safety as Mount Ruang volcano erupts