Not Words But Meanings: The Day That Ruined Everything

I can't think straight.

Can't focus.

Can't carry on a conversation without trailing off.

From now on, I'm pretty sure my life will be defined as 'before' and 'after.'

Before that day when my comfortable world was utterly ruined.

And after.

Ezra and I visited two slum villages with a gentleman named Ronny, and his wife, Anneke. Ronny is a Jakarta elite-turned-activist for the poorest of the poor. He now barely makes ends meet, dedicating the past decade of his life helping the vulnerable, and raising awareness about the situation in these slums. Walking through these communities and homes felt something like walking alongside a modern-day Mother Theresa. People poured out of their homes to greet him by name; children took his hand and pressed it to their foreheads; man, woman and child walked along and conversed with him, completely at ease with their good friend.

We had permission to be in these peoples' homes and to take all of these pictures.

These are Jakarta's most marginalized people, living illegally on government land. These sites are the least desirable and most dangerous, where people with more options would not choose to live. Pressed against train tracks. Leaning perilously into the river. Under bridges.

This woman, a mother of 10, collects plastic cups and bottles from the garbage dump, washes them and takes off any labels, flattens them, and takes them to be weighed at a recycling center of sorts. This haul, which took her two days to collect, will bring in about a dollar.

She invited us into her home which is a few meters wide by a few meters long. The neighborhood kids followed...

I asked her about this bag in the corner. It is full of little plastic trinkets that will later go into the package with a toy or candy. She slips the trinkets into tiny plastic sleeves and returns them to a factory. This bag took her about two days to complete. Her income from this bag will be 3000 rupiah - about 30 cents.