Politics anywhere is never color blind. It's just as strong in Indonesia as it is in America. However, while in the United States color may refer to one's race, in Indonesia it refers to the flags of political parties.

Here's my problem. Since the 2009 election campaign kicked off last month, the color of any attire you wear today is taken to reflect your affiliation to one of the 38 contesting parties.

This is true for accessories like ties and headscarves (and, for one or two of us, the turban), but often extends to shirts or dresses -- definitely T-shirts, even batik, pants and (dare I say) underwear!

Every where you go, people will almost always comment on your choice of color, asking are you supporting this party or that.

"You are what color you wear" is the rule this election year.

You're a PDI-P supporter if you wear red, Golkar or PKS if you're in yellow, PD or PAN if you sport anything light blue, and you support of any of more than 10 Islamist parties if you wear green.

Recently, my eyes were drawn to dozens of ugly deep purple flags lining the sides of a flyover in south Jakarta. I still haven't figured out which party had the audacity to choose such a color (that I wouldn't be seen dead in).

But it also goes to show that almost every color available has already been spoken for. This effectively limits ones choice of color for attire if you're a non-partisan like me.

Being the third child in a family of four, I grew up to be green in board games like Ludo and Halma. Green was designated to me by my older brothers who chose red and blue. My poor sister, the youngest sibling, grew up to be yellow.

Once I outgrew Ludo and Halma, I started to have more choice of what my color could be. I learned there was none that I liked best, and my favorite changed over time.

There was a period when it was blue, then black, then back to green and then crimson for a time. Growing up in the Soeharto regime, I learned early to despise yellow. I still do.

Now I am so much older, I have in my wardrobe a collection of ties of all colors and some batik shirts with different color bases too.

With the politics of color underway, I have difficulties every morning deciding what to wear to avoid colleagues, friends or neighbors making silly remarks or even accusations about my political affiliation.

A Japanese diplomat was spotted recently wearing a light blue tie -- the color of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono's Democrat Party (PD).

Asked whether this was to please the President, he said the tie was actually gray when he bought it.

"Nanotechnology turned it blue," he said, assuring those of us who remained unconvinced that he was neutral on Indonesian politics.

In the 1980s and 90s, TVRI newscasters were required to wear yellow (or something yellow) when on camera, especially during election years. Whether this had any impact on the election outcomes is doubtful, but anyone daring to wear green or red would have been fired.

Today, almost no color is safe from accusations of partisanship. Looking back, a three-party system was probably a good thing for non-partisans like me.

I have found the perfect solution to my problem -- albeit temporary. Between now and the end of next year, I will do away the tie unless it is an absolute necessity.

So if you ever catch me wearing a jacket without a tie, it's a political statement of my being non-partisan in this election. Iranian President Ahmadinejad manages well to go about without one, as do all Iranian diplomats in Jakarta nowadays, so why can't I?

-- Eric Musa Piliang

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