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Jakarta Post

Meet the real ‘neo-libs’ of Indonesia

It’s a living: Ipah and her husband have been vegetable sellers at Pasar Kebayoran Lama since 1985

The Jakarta Post
Fri, March 1, 2013

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Meet the real ‘neo-libs’ of Indonesia

I

span class="inline inline-center">It’s a living: Ipah and her husband have been vegetable sellers at Pasar Kebayoran Lama since 1985. They have sent their four children to college on their earnings. JP

The Jakarta Post visited a number of traditional markets to see how they are struggling for survival in the face of fierce competition, particularly from big, modern supermarkets. This report and related stories on the next page
were jointly prepared by
Utami Diah Kusumawati, Sebastian Partogi, Nadia Sarasati, Muhammad Edy Sofyan, Khoirul Amin, Haeril Halim, Aswiditiyo Nedwika and Arfan Wiraguna.

Traditional markets may be coming under a lot of pressure from the modern, big-money supermarkets and hypermarkets, but small traders know a thing or two about surviving the competition. And that may just be their saving grace.

Anyone looking for evidence of how a free market operates based on the forces of supply and demand — simple economic theory — only needs to pay a visit to one of these markets. If prices are fixed at supermarkets, here shoppers can haggle — they are expected to haggle — over prices and both traders and buyers come away happy when they have struck a good bargain.

The opportunity to negotiate is one of many attractions that have kept housewives sticking to traditional markets — clean or dirty is irrelevant — in purchasing some of their daily needs in preference for the more convenient, large supermarkets.

Meet the real “neo-libs” of Indonesia. Socialists and those who advocate for government intervention better stay away. Many of these traders are doing well, although admittedly some are feeling the pressure of competition from the bigger players.

Ipah, who runs a vegetable kiosk in Pasar Kebayoran Lama, says she’s doing okay. “I have my loyal customers,” the 55-year-old says.

She may not have a business degree, but she knows something about the importance of human relations.

To beat the impersonal supermarkets she offers extra services such as cutting and peeling shallots, knowing her customers are busy or
simply loath the tear-jerking ritual.

Life has been kind to her. She is the proud owner of a house just a few hundred meters away, has sent her four children to college, and with her husband made the haj pilgrimage to Saudi Arabia in 1995. All this from selling vegetable since 1985.

Santo, a rice trader at Pasar Grogol, also goes for more personalized services from his kiosk that is strategically located near the main entrance.

The 60-year-old helps his customers choose good quality rice and even allows them to return and exchange bad rice. For his poorer customers, he allows them to pay in installments. He may not have a deal with Visa or Mastercard, but he has built trust with his customers.

He admits that he has felt the competition from supermarkets, but he is not giving up.

“I am determined. I want to make sure my daughter finishes college,” he says. His son had already dropped out of school to work.

For some traders, however, the modernization of markets has not necessarily improved their business. Where they are located is more important than the condition of the market.

Sugiharti, who sells chicken at Pasar Mayestik , says business has dropped significantly since she and all the vegetable, chicken, fish
and meat traders were relocated to the basement of the newly renovated building last year. Fewer shoppers come to the market since the relocation.

The 60-year-old finds it hard to compete with supermarkets, even with haggling.

“Once, my lowest price was Rp 19,000 [US$1.97] per kilogram while supermarkets were selling it for Rp 14,900,” she says.

There were days when she made no sales at all and had to give all her 12 chickens for sale away to relatives and friends. At this rate, she may have to give up her business completely, and she will have to rely on the salary of her husband, who works for a TV station in Jakarta.

Miya, who runs a store selling household goods at Pasar Grogol, says her income nowadays barely covers her living expenses.

“Often I have to juggle paying the electricity bill or having a decent meal,” she says.

The family has survived on government rations of cheap rice. A “decent” meal for her means eating rice with tofu or tempeh, what she calls “boneless meat” because real meat is rare for her.

She laughs off her condition, saying that humor has kept her going. “If we let ourselves get stressed out, then they would send us to the Grogol mental hospital.”

Ngadiran, the head of the Indonesian Traditional Market Traders (APPSI), says it takes a lot of hard work and dedication for traders to survive the fierce competition. Sometimes they have to take up a second or even third job through the day, he says. “Without the extra income, I just cannot imagine how they can live,” he says.

Traditional markets are also a place for people who have no capital and no real skills to eke out a living, from the parking attendants to the market coolies.

And yes, somehow they survive.

A case in point is Solikin, a 44-year-old who has worked at Pasar Mayestik since he was a little boy, helping people carry their shopping bags for Rp 3,000 to Rp 5,000 at a time.

“I can’t do anything else. This is my life,” he says. — JP

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