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3 The Economy of the Night If you merantau to Batam you need to have some kind of skill or education. If not, then you will end up like me, working as a prostitute or not working at all. But compared to the kampung at least I can make a bit of money, and they don’t have to know what I do here. Lidya, twenty-year-old prostitute It is nearly midnight as I reach the bottom of the hill leading up to Ozon, the largest disco on Batam. Along the busy road a series of small stalls sells everything from noodle soup to cigarettes and condoms. At the top of the hill outside the club the road is packed with taxis and ojek (motorcycle taxis) waiting for passengers who will pay exorbitant fares as they come out of the club. As usual, Aryo is leaning against the side of his taxi waiting for his Singaporean clients who are inside. He is one of the lucky ones who has a tamu (client or guest) who comes every weekend. Creating these stable patron-client relationships is crucial in order to maintain a steady income in the face of intense competition. Passing the bouncer and the admissions booth, one is hit by a wall of sound upon entering the club. The air smells of clove cigarettes and air conditioning. On a good night, Ozon is nearly filled to its capacity of two thousand people by 11:00 p.m., and tonight this is certainly the case. To the right, at the back of the disco, the disc jockey is playing techno versions of Indonesian and Western songs, but only a few people are on the small dance floor in the middle of the club. In contrast, the high tables and barstools that surround the dance floor are packed with people who can afford to buy drinks. The majority are conspicuously moving their heads back and forth to the beat of the music—in most cases, such people are tripping on 72 : chapter 3 Ecstasy, the popular term for MDMA (3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine ). Behind the disc jockey, and at the entrance to the toilets, young men are selling drugs, mainly Ecstasy or marijuana, offering their goods to anyone who looks their way. Drugs can also be ordered directly from the waiters for a slightly higher price. At the other end of the club, at the bar, waiters are busy picking up drinks for customers. One floor up, booths with a view of the dance floor and a number of private karaoke rooms are available for hourly rental. Since the mid-1990s Ecstasy has become the drug of choice in nightclubs throughout Indonesia.1 John, a Singaporean man who frequents Ozon, has his own theory about the composition of people at the disco and how Ecstasy circulates there: “You can take nine people. Three will be Singaporeans looking for women. They book2 three women who are given Ecstasy; two of them take the drug and the third hands it over to a preman [a thug or gangster], who sells it to another person who just wants to be by himself. The final person is lost because he thinks he is at a regular disco.” John’s comment suggests that we can understand the social organization of the disco in relation to the circulation of Ecstasy. It suggests that there is an economy at work. Ecstasy is a key element of this economy, yet differently situated actors engage with the drug in alternative ways: in Ozon the drug is bought, given away, consumed, hidden, passed on, sold, and, for that “final person” on John’s list, perhaps invisible. This economy stretches far beyond the nightclubs of Nagoya, generating revenue for government officials, hotels, taxis, restaurants, stores, and middlemen (calo) who act as escorts, guards, or touts. In the dark area in the corner next to the bar, Kartika and her friend Yasmin, both in their early twenties from West Java, are sitting, obviously bored, with a group of other women. An older woman, their madam (mami), comes and goes, occasionally speaking into the ear of one of the women, who then goes off with a waiting man. Kartika has yet to be dibooking (booked) by a tamu (client or guest), and Yasmin is waiting for her tamu tetap (regular client or guest), who comes from Singapore every Saturday night. To pass the time, they chain-smoke menthol clove cigarettes. Dewi, a thirty-two-year...

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