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Giving in, I nodded to Alam; but before he went off to find Rendra he promised that if anything happened, he would come back to look for me around the same spot. After Alam left, I turned my attention back to Amien Rais and his oration. After he had spoken, it was now Adnan Buyung Nasution's turn at the mike. With his thick snow-white mane of hair and because of his frequent interviews with the foreign press, the lawyer was easy to recognize. As soon as he began to speak, he was given a loud and boisterous round of applause and cheers. Suddenly, I saw in the distance a face I recognized. I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Rama!”

Rama turned toward me. I rushed towards him, as best I could, through the pulsing throng. When I finally reached his side, he smiled at me.

“I didn't know you were coming here.”

“Yeah, well, I'm here,” he said, bowing his head towards mine. “I came straight from my house. Dini called to say that she's coming, too, along with some of her friends.”

“Yeah, I know, but I haven't seen them yet.”

Rama looked at Adnan Buyung and clapped when the lawyer said that no matter what happened, the process of reform must begin today. I studied Rama's face; his features were twitching with evident emotion. The cause, I guessed, was not because of his breakup with Rininta or the glare he was now under as a result of his family's “political hygiene.” I guessed it was because of his sense of belonging with this campus. Maybe.

He looked as if—how can I describe it?—as if he was proud to be part of what was happening. Were my eyes deceiving me?

Rama looked at me as if he wanted to say something but was reluctant to speak. Finally: “Lintang …”

“Yes …”

“Thank you.”

That was a true shock.

I sought the meaning for his expression of thanks and I think I found the answer. I nodded and took his arm, then told him that I was going to look for Alam. But just at that moment we heard an announcement roll off the loudspeakers that the people who were now on the campus grounds were not to leave through the main gateway. Apparently, right outside the main gate, a mass of unknown people had gathered and were egging on the students to fight. The students were becoming more restless, moving this way and that. Once again, anxiety suffused the air.

“What's going on?”

“I heard that some people are setting fires.”

“Where?”

“Near the overpass.”

The speeches continued, but not in as orderly a fashion as before. From a distance I could see campus security officers trying to keep the students away from the main entrance and the unknown people outside. Not knowing Alam's whereabouts, I too began to feel anxious there in the crowd by myself. I tried calling him on my cell phone but he didn't answer. I then called Mita, who did. I was grateful to learn that she was still on campus. We promised to meet me ASAP outside the front door to the Syarief Thayeb Academic Building.

As I made my way there, I saw her coming toward me in the distance. “Mita!” I called out. And somehow, even with her loaded knapsack, she managed to run to me. I was overjoyed to see a face I knew.

“Where's Alam?” she asked.

“I was just going to ask if you'd seen him. He went off earlier to find Rendra.”

“Well, most of the big shots just left. I saw them come down the elevator from twelfth floor. Where are Gilang and Agam?” Mita asked, looking at her wristwatch.

The yells of the crowd were growing louder. And then, suddenly, I couldn't hear anything clearly at all; even the loud cries were drowned out by the sound of engines. At first I thought the source of the clamor was from a bulldozer or some other kind of machine outside the campus. But no, the sound was coming from the air. Everyone looked upwards. There were helicopters flying overhead. My God. One, two, three of them, green and dark gray in color. What were they doing, flying so low and circling over the middle of campus like that, as if they were in battle? A shiver went down my spine and my heart beat faster. Were they carrying machine guns? Or were they just showing off, trying to frighten the crowd as they circled around? I started to shake and I could see that Mita was nervous too.

“What's going on?” I shouted at Mita as I grabbed her by the arm. “We have to find Alam and Gilang and the rest of the guys.”

As the helicopters continued to circle overhead, the students below grew all the more angry. Even if I could get through to Alam on the phone, I knew I wouldn't be able to hear him over the roar of the helicopters. I concentrated on filming this mysterious incident instead.

When finally the helicopters did begin to leave the area, the students booed and waved their fists in the air. With the choppers' tails still visible, I focused my lens on their identification numbers as they flew away. Who knows, maybe I could use this information at a later date. Just at that moment, we heard the sound of gunfire.
One shot. Two. Then screams of surprise. And wails. Mita spontaneously pulled me down into a crouch. Everyone covered their heads and ducked. People started running in all directions. We heard some more shots. From the outside, coming in. Members of the student regiment yelled for everyone to move away from the perimeter of the grounds and to go inside the building. Students ran past us, throwing stones. Who knows where they'd found them. I now felt more afraid with that barrage of stones going over our heads towards the outside. Mita clutched my shoulder to prevent me from standing up because I was still trying to see what was going on.

“Don't stand up, you dumbass!” Mita screamed at me while pushing my head down.

“It's stopped, Mita. I want to see.”

We slowly stood and I quickly prepared to use my video camera. Mita kept grumbling that I was acting like a damned fool war correspondent. Thankfully, there didn't appear to be anyone who had been hurt or wounded, but the students were swearing and shouting. What had that gunfire been about? Just to make people afraid.
Quel imbécilité!

“Lintang, turn that thing off and get inside the building!” Mita shouted at me. The shooting had stopped. There was no sound except that of people running. Mita grabbed my hand and pulled me inside the lobby of the building. At that moment I caught sight of Gilang, Bimo, and Alam who were running in our direction. Finding me, Alam immediately embraced me and held me tightly. Suddenly, I felt so safe that I never wanted to part with him.

All together now, we quickly talked about what to do. Alam would drive Om Aji's van. Mita had her motorcycle, but we weren't going to let her go off alone.

“We'll form a convoy,” Agam suggested.

“What's the big fuss?” Gilang said. “Bimo comes in my jeep. Agam and Odi can take Mita's bike, and Alam can take the girls in the van!”

Mita had her hands on her hips. “What
girls
are you referring to?”

“Oops, sorry, Mita. I meant ‘women.'” Gilang held up his two hands in submission.

As we were making our way to our respective vehicles, something else made us pause: Alam reported that a student guard had told him that hundreds or even thousands of people had congregated at various points along Kyai Tapa, the boulevard adjacent to campus that leads to the center of town. He said they had begun burning cars and were making their way towards the Tomang Plaza shopping center, very close by.

“So what do we do?” Bimo asked. “Wait till they pass or try to make our way through them?”

Not knowing how to read the situation, no one replied. No one knew what to do.

Alam told the rest of us to wait where we were for the moment. He would try to see what the situation was like outside and would be back in five minutes. No! I didn't want to be separated from him again and I ran after him, ignoring Mita's shouts for me not to follow.

“What are you doing coming with me? I'll be right back.”

Alam seemed to intentionally pick up his stride.

“No, I'm coming with you!” I answered stubbornly as I struggled with my knapsack.

Alam took my knapsack from me and started to run. Near the front gate, we could see that the crowd of people who had amassed outside the campus gate earlier had begun to drift away.
Alam questioned two student guards. They gave him an answer similar to the news he had heard previously: cars were being set afire and unknown groups of men were commandeering trucks and public mini-vans. The guards pointed towards a cloud of smoke whose source we couldn't see. The situation seemed to be getting out of hand. I squeezed Alam's hand as hard as I could, wanting to sew his hand to mine.

“Thanks!” Alam said as he hugged the younger men who remained standing there steadfast.

He then looked at me and gave me a little smile for having squeezed his hand so tightly.

“Don't be afraid!”

“How can I not be when you disappear like that?”

Now he really did smile. “I didn't disappear. I was just talking to Mas Willy.”

We walked back to where Gilang, Mita, Agam, Bimo, and Odi were waiting.

Bimo grinned broadly when he saw us holding hands. Reflexively, I released Alam's grip. This was embarrassing. In Paris, there would be nothing out of the ordinary in such a display. But here, in Jakarta, I was turning into a shamefaced shrinking violet.

We went to our vehicles. Alam called out instructions before we started to go: “The crowd outside the gates has begun to disperse. We'll drive slowly and make our way through. If there are too many of them, don't do anything; just be patient and drive very slowly. But when you get to clear road, step on the gas. Got it?”

Agam and Odi, who were on Mita's cycle, were the first to leave and the first to break free from the crazy mass of people on the street. Now it was our two vehicles that had to pass through the sea of people. It was totally crazy out there. As we made our
way towards the intersection, we could see that Tomang Plaza was closed and now surrounded by a huge crowd. I couldn't stand it not being able to record what was happening and I tried to shoot the scene through the van's rear window. God, a crowd of people was breaking into an ATM.

“Are they looting?” I asked, surprised.

“Be careful,” Mita said to Alam, pointing to a group of long-haired men. Some were carrying thick wooden clubs which they used to rap the hoods of cards.

“Lintang, put that damn thing away!” she barked at me.

I immediately obeyed her and then was terrified to see that three men from that same group were now approaching our car.

Alam rolled down the window with feigned calm.

“Where are you going?” one of the men immediately asked.

“I'm trying to get home. My wife here is pregnant and I need to get her home,” he said as he stroked my cheek.

What!?

The three men stuck their right thumbs in the air.

Across the street, I caught sight of a few soldiers with rifles, sitting idly, watching the scene, and not doing anything at all.

When the men grinned at him and stepped aside for us to pass, Alam slowly stepped on the gas. But then, suddenly Mita screamed, “Watch out, Alam!”

Six or seven men came running towards us from the opposite direction. But their target wasn't us; it was the car behind us, a Mercedes. Why they had chosen to stop the car and prevent it from passing, I could only guess.

“The people in that Mercedes, Alam, what's going to happen to them?” I stupidly asked. Instead of doing nothing, Alam opened the door and got out of the car. Oh my God. He was calling out
to the men. Two of the men broke away and came up to Alam. I didn't know what Alam said, but I saw the brutes nod. They then called the other men, who had formed a circle around the Mercedes behind us. Alam got back into the car shaking his head.

“What happened out there?” I asked.

“When I looked inside the car and saw the driver was about the same age as Om Aji, I told the men he was my uncle and they believed me.”

He shook his head half hopelessly. Through the rear window we watched as the thugs allowed the Mercedes to pass. Mita tapped Alam on the shoulder and told him to speed up. Alam muttered that it was impossible for us to save everyone and that we couldn't expect any help from security authorities.

On Kyai Tapa we gained a distance from the crowd, and all breathed a sigh of relief. When the van was in the clear, Alam stepped hard on the accelerator, making the vehicle lurch forward.

“So, I'm pregnant am I?”

Alam glanced towards me with a smile. “What did you want me to say? That you were in a hurry to edit your film footage?”

“Who were those men?” I asked. “They definitely weren't students and they didn't look to be people from around here.”

Alam shook his head. “I don't know. But it's weird. All the men were about the same age. Some had crew cuts, others had long hair, but all of them looked physically fit and well trained—not like ordinary people. You saw how those soldiers just sat there watching even as those guys were picking and choosing which cars to stop.”

“So, who were they then?”