Medan: Sound off
There is an unfamiliar sound on the streets of Medan: complete silence. One of Indonesia’s busiest cities, on the archipelago’s northernmost island, is at a stand still. The normal cacophony of scooter engines and car horns is drowned out by a pervasive quiet, broken only by the call to prayer.
"There are less cars in the city, so less customers. But everyone needs masks so they’re selling pretty fast."
A traffic light salesman has switched his stock of cold drink and snacks for the much in demand face masks. For sellers like him the slow moving lines of traffic are a vital source of income. We’re on a busy road and he weaves from window to window catching customers, his handmade cotton masks going for a good price, due to nationwide shortages.
Small motorised vehicles keep Indonesia’s economy moving. The amount on the road has risen from 30 to 150 million over the last decade. Raucous bands of scooter taxis and couriers hang on the side of the road on their phones and smoking. Today their absence is notable.
Indonesia is famed for its traffic jams, but today the traffic is flowing faster than normal. The lockdown is a reminder of the congestion troubles that plague Indonesia’s cities. Medan's air quality, which over the past few months has ranged from red to orange warning levels, is now comfortably in the green.
Just outside the city is the Karo District. The agricultural region is alive with activity as workers harvest cabbage. A noisy hustle and bustle in stark contrast to the nearby urban sprawl. Despite a drop in demand for vegetables during the pandemic, farmers have little choice but to continue to grow and harvest their crops. Disinfectant is liberally applied to cabbages, which are then wrapped in leaves and plastic. Any vehicles passing through the area get the same treatment.
“Just stay at home, we will reduce the transmission of the virus to protect our dear parents and relatives in the village. Friendships will be strengthened by praying for each other.”
The call to prayer ripples across the city, breaking the silence. The South Asian region is home to a diverse mix of religions, of which Indonesia is the only predominantly Islamic state. And, though the churches’ advice follows the state’s (to limit social contact) mosques across the city have a had a range of reactions to the outbreak.
Most shut their doors. Imams upskill, using technology to bring religion to the masses in a century leaping bound.
Yet others have remained open for Friday prayers. Worshippers throng at the barriers, they are disinfected, their hands washed, then they are permitted to enter. Once inside they are expected to wear masks and instructed, rather than use the communal prayer mats, that they must bring their own.
The qunut prayer offers hope. A verse recited in the morning is to stave off danger in times of crisis. Mosques staying open is not uncontroversial and has sparked debate and aroused anger between the devoted and the less so. The situation became inflamed after a conservative cleric stated that the qunut prayer would keep them immune.
Photography by Jefri Taragan
Words by Peter Lane and Glenn Zimmatore