Edi did not answer. He laughed and turned towards the crowd. I, too, looked at the crowd. From the side of the tent, a small child and a lady entered the area. The child looked not more than ten years old, and had placed a bet with Rp1000. The lady who was his mother, also placed a bet. His eyes were smiling and they shouted in triumph as she and her son were paid by the bookie. Oh my God! Who the hell taught these Dayaks to gamble?! Where has Indonesia been these past 67 years, till the mothers teach their children to gamble without a hint of guilt or shyness?
At the dice area, people meet; at the karaoke stage people indulge in pleasure. The palm oil workers, forest harvesters, rubber tappers, gambling haven, the children and villagers looking for a way to become happy; forget for an minute the suffering they feel living as villagers in a huge country named Indonesia.