More specifically the Province of Gorontalo. That’s where Governor Rusli Habibie is implementing a new policy, diverting the pay of married men who work for the provincial government.

From next month, their money will go directly to their wives. This follows petitions from women who say they’re not getting enough money from their menfolk to feed their families and pay the rent.

Gorontalo lies on one of the great islands of Indonesia. Can you name it?

From the air, the island looks a bit like an octopus on its side, with several long peninsulas extending into the sea, like tentacles. Due north is the Philippines. Go west and you hit Borneo.

The answer is Sulawesi.

Anchor Marco Werman gets details from the BBC’s Jakarta reporter, Karishma Vaswani.

Gorontalo, highlighted in green on the island of Sulawesi, Indonesia (Map: Wiki Commons)

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Like the boys, they favor Chuck Taylors, patched jeans and band T-shirts. A guy named Taufik said they may call themselves punks, but they’re not doing anything wrong.

“We’re not breaking Sharia by being punk. It’s just how we dress. We’re not whores, we’re not gay, and we’re not corruptors,” Taufik said.

Aceh is the only province in Indonesia governed by Sharia or Islamic law. Aceh’s government adopted Sharia in 2005, shortly after gaining some political autonomy from Jakarta. Now some critics say the local government is going too far. Case in point is a police raid on a punk rock concert in Banda Aceh in late December. Authorities arrested 65 concertgoers.

They shaved off the punks’ hair and threw them into a pond for symbolic cleansing. Police held them for 10 days for “moral rehabilitation.”

Taufik now has stubble covering his head. So does Yudi — both were among the dozens who were shaved in the mass arrest.

“The police punched us and stomped on us,” Yudi said. “We were treated like animals. It hurt a lot because we didn’t know what we did wrong.”

The police deny using violence. And Yudi and the others were never actually charged with a crime. Still, many in Banda Aceh view the punks with suspicion. A lot of the punks live on the streets. Yudi concedes some of them are involved in drugs, but he said it’s not fair to assume all of them are drug users.

Banda Aceh’s deputy Mayor Illiza Sa’aduddin Djamal, who wears pink lipstick and a bejeweled headscarf, said the punks are a threat to Aceh’s Islamic values. She describes the arrests as a form of tough love.

“The law says every homeless child should be taken care of by the country. We can define the punks as homeless because they sleep everywhere and rarely take a bath. As a mother I will feel very bad if I see my child live like that,” Illiza said.

The raid wasn’t the city’s first crackdown on the punks, but it was the largest. In the past, only locals were arrested. But this time, most of the people detained came from more secular parts of Indonesia. Illiza insists that visitors have to abide by Aceh’s rules and norms.

“Perhaps our freedom is different from other places,” she said. “But we are in Banda Aceh.”

Now that they’ve been released, the local punks are expected to continue their rehabilitation, with job skill training. Illiza insists the young men are grateful for the opportunity.

But Reza Idria scoffs at the idea that Aceh’s punks are embracing their re-education.

“They say that all of punks are happy now,” said Reza.

Reza used to play guitar in a band. Now he teaches Islamic law at the state university. He rejects the idea that Aceh’s punks are somehow anti-Islam. He said government officials are interpreting Islamic law to justify their actions.

“The way they treat punks, they never used any law, just put them in the pool and shaved them. We don’t have a law like that, but they did it. And this is the government,” Reza said.

The truth is, said Reza, many Acehnese think the punks are a public nuisance, and with regional elections coming up, the government crackdown may have been an effort to score points on a winning issue.

Workers install a frame with concrete balls suspended on it above railroad tracks in Bekasi, West Java, Indonesia. (AP Photo/Achmad Ibrahim)

Indonesia has gone to imaginative extremes to try to stop commuters from riding the roofs of trains.

Now they have an intimidating and possibly even deadly new tactic: Suspending concrete balls above railway lines a few inches above the tops of carriages at points where trains enter or pull out of stations.

Anchor Marco Werman speaks with the BBC’s Karishma Vaswani in Jakarta about the new system to stop roof riders.

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Marco Werman: Officials in India may want kids to get on the bus but officials in Indonesia want people to get off the trains, specifically the tops of trains. They started hanging concrete balls above rail lines to try to keep commuters from riding on the roof. The first balls were installed at a station outside the capital Jakarta. The BBC’s Karishma Vaswani is in Jakarta. She says the scheme is just the latest in an effort to get people off the tops of trains.

Karishma Vaswani: They’ve sprayed the train carriages with paint. They’ve put oil on top of the carriages so that they become far more slippery and it becomes quite difficult to stay on top. They’ve even hired musicians to sing about personal safety at these train stations in an attempt to educate people that this is really quite dangerous and you could end up risking your life and limb by getting on top of these trains and hitching a free ride. Of course, there’s an economic incentive for them to get these passengers off the trains because when you’re on top of a train you’re not paying for a ticket to get inside, and that’s what they want to do. They want to get these passengers back inside the trains.

Werman: And, are people dying riding on top of the trains?

Vaswani: Yes, Marco; they are. The numbers are quite dire. We’ve seen just a few reports. In 2008, I think, about 53 passengers died in an accident after boarding a train roof, and that was just the reported figure. A lot of these deaths, as you can imagine, do go unreported because there’s no way of telling often how many people actually get on top of these trains. As you can imagine, it’s quite a fluid sort of arrangement. People hop on and sometimes they get spotted and then they hop off, and sometimes they don’t. Many of these people end up being electrocuted by power cables that are hanging along the train tracks, and some just simply fall off. So, it is a dangerous journey rather, but it’s one that many commuters say they’re willing to risk because of the various factors that they cite as why they choose to get on top of the trains in the first place.

Werman: Well, I was going to ask you, Karishma, are people on the roofs because they’re thrill seekers? I mean, I’ve read some comments from officials in Indonesia that seem to indicate that many people ride the roofs of cars because there’s no room inside the rail car.

Vaswani: Well, Marco, it’s a number of things actually though. One that you were pointing out, the fact that there are thrill seekers, yes; but there are two other factors here. One is that these trains are usually extremely overcrowded. You try getting into a Jakarta train at rush hour either in the morning or late in the evening when people are headed home and it’s no fun, I’ve got to tell you. So, a lot of people just say, “Right. Well, I’ve got to get to work”, or “I’m desperate to get home and I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of a, sort of, sardine sandwich, so I’ll just get on top of the train.” Now, the other factor is economic. Although train tickets would seem extremely cheap to someone living in New York or in San Francisco, here in Indonesia it’s still out of reach for a lot of poor people and they want to get around as well. So, some people just decide, right, it’s worth the risk, I don’t have to pay, I’ll just jump on top of the train and hitch a free ride.

Werman: Why is the government just focusing on deterring people from rail surfing? Has the government explored the idea of expanding the number of lines, the number of trains, so somebody misses one they can catch one a couple of minutes later?

Vaswani: Well, this is another huge issue in Indonesia and you’re absolutely right, Marco. Rather than just stopping these passengers from getting on top of the trains, they’ve really got to start looking at a long-term solution here, but Indonesia’s infrastructure just isn’t keeping up with the pace at which this country is growing. It’s not just the railways; it’s the ports, it’s the roads, it’s the airports. You can see signs of this overcrowding on Jakarta streets almost every day. I mean, the tales of traffic jams here are infamous. This is one of the major issues for the government as it tries to modernize the economy and the pace at which this country is growing and, for the infrastructure to keep up, Indonesia needs billions of dollars of investment. It is time to attract that from the international community, but I guess it’s just not happening fast enough.

Werman: The BBC’s Karishma Vaswani in Jakarta. You can see a photo of the concrete balls to deter roof riders. They’re at theworld.org.

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Since then, Aceh has been struggling to rebuild – not only economically, but also culturally. Aceh’s rebel struggle for independence ended in the devastation of the tsunami. Indonesia now holds it firmly, but has granted it a special status within the country.

The attachment to certain cultural traditions reflects Aceh’s proud history as one of the earliest kingdoms in South East Asia to convert to Islam. There is a musical form reflecting its rich past known as body percussion.

Muhammad Imam Faudi drops to his knees, joining nine other men in a row on a tile floor. Their bodies sway together as they beat on their chests and snap their fingers. Each slap is accompanied by the rapa’i, a wooden framed Acehnese drum. The percussive sound is coordinated with energetic twists and turns.

Faudi dedicates his performances to the memory of his late brother, who was a senior member of this singing and dancing troupe, called Sanggar Seulaweut. Faudi’s brother drowned in the tsunami seven years ago.

“We make dance to improve our spirit,” says Faudi. “After tsunami, nobody can play this dance. We want play again to make our culture recover after tsunami.”

Members of Sanggar Seulaweut rehearse at the State Institute for Islamic Studies in Banda Aceh. (Photo: Niall Macaulay)

“We want to introduce our culture to people around the world,” explains Rifqi. “Acehnese culture is very unique, very very unique.”

It may seem counter-intuitive, but the music and dance performed by Sanggar Seulaweut is influenced by the region’s Islamic heritage. That is, the brand of Islam long practiced in Aceh, says 24-year-old Hermansyah, who goes by one name.

“Our dance and songs, in ancient times, it’s used to spread Islam in Aceh,” explains Hermansyah. “That is why in our dance or in our songs you can find some Arabic sentences, or even some Islamic thought the pillars of Islam, like some advice or Islamic education.”

Dr. Yusny Saby, a professor at the State Institute of Islamic Studies in Aceh, says, Islam has really helped soothe people after the tsunami to keep their minds off the tragedy. “Islam is a really kind of inclusive religion, I would say, accommodating all kinds of good behavior of human beings, including dancing and beating drums, of course with good purposes,” describes Saby.

Female dancers join in a Genta, or Creation, performance. (Photo: Niall Macaulay)

The performers may soon realize their goal of spreading Acehnese culture. Sanggar Seulaweut performed in Turkey earlier this year, and already has offers to tour elsewhere outside of Aceh in 2012.

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Perhaps one of the most iconic images of the tsunami’s wrath was a 30-foot fishing boat thrown a couple of miles inland and perched on top the ruins of a house.

Fifty-nine people clung to the boat until the surge passed; all of them survived. There’s now a viewing platform above the building, and tsunami-related pictures on display below.

Ponny, who goes by one name as is the custom here in Indonesia, had seen the pictures but still wasn’t prepared for the reality:

“I think this is awesome!” Ponny said. “The people in this ship, nobody die, so this is a miracle.”

Ponny is among the growing numbers of tourists who have come to Aceh some seven years after the tsunami to see the relics of destruction. Around the wreckage, facilities have sprung up, with viewing platforms, drink vendors, and snack shops.

Petriani and her sister have opened a popular noodle shop under the beached boat. Petriani said after the tsunami this place became very well-known.

“That’s why my sister and I took the place. And word of mouth spread quickly, so people know the place and it’s easy to find us here,” Petriani said.

Across the street, 51-year-old Abdul Wahab sells drinks, snacks and souvenirs. He came here after the tsunami looking to make some money helping with the cleanup.

Now, he sits in front of his small shop serving thirsty tourists. He smiles at his good fortune, but said he sometimes he feels embarrassed, since it is such a sad place.

“I see people crying before they go up the platform,” Wahab said. “They remember what it was like here the day before the tsunami.”

About a mile away, the Aceh-Nias Rehabilitation and Reconstruction Agency, or BRR, built a $6.7 million Tsunami Museum. It exhibits photographs of victims, stories of survivors and an electronic simulation of the undersea earthquake that triggered the wave.

Spiritual Tourism

Officials say more tourists come to see the aftermath of the tsunami than come for the area’s wide, sandy beaches. Yusny Saby, a professor at the State Institute of Islamic Studies in Aceh, said it may sound morbid, but it’s actually very healing.

“We call it spiritual tourism,” Saby said. “If it were not for the tsunami, we would have still been in war. So the tsunami is a sort of blessing in disguise. We lost a lot, but it speeded up the process of bringing peace.”

The peace came after a nearly 30-year civil war between Acehnese rebels and the government of Indonesia. And that’s become another draw for tourists.

Zulkifi once worked as a tour guide in Jakarta and Bali, but he now teaches English and German to classes of future tour guides. Some of those guides-in-training spent years fighting for the rebels.

Zulkifi said before the tsunami, rebels holed up in the jungle. Now they’re engaged in guerrilla or “terror tourism.”

In fact, many western embassies still issue travel warnings for Aceh. There have been sporadic attacks targeting foreigners in recent years. But still the tourists come.

“I didn’t expect it, actually, how it looked like,” said Erlbrich Elsenga, who’s here from the Netherlands, looking up at the fishing boat on the house. “It’s different from what I expected, it is a big boat. I thought it was maybe a small boat on top of a small house, but really big.”

The scars of the tsunami are still not completely healed but the Acehnese hope they can at least get some benefit from the natural disaster that nearly wiped them out.

35-year-old Indonesian theology grad student Rafli Syarqawi Zain says that as he watches the 20-something activists in Tahrir Square, he thinks about when he was a 20-something activist in May 1998.

“I was a college student in Jakarta and I was part of the student movement against the regime of President Suharto,” Zain said. “We had networks of student groups at universities across Jakarta to spread news of protests. There are similarities with Egypt, the word of the day in the Reformasi was ‘change’; we also had a repressive and authoritarian regime and we wanted change.”

Much like Egypt’s Hosni Mubarak, Indonesia’s Suharto ran a centralized, military-dominated government, and the two also shared similar reputations for corruption and repression.

In the late 1990s peaceful, pro-democracy demonstrations in Indonesia played out much as they did last January in Cairo. The police killed protesters, which then fueled public rage against the state.

Rafli, who goes by one name, says what Indonesia did so well – which Egypt is finding hard to do – was get rid of the generals in charge.

This past spring Indonesia’s Minister of Foreign Affairs made a visit to Cairo for a meeting with his Egyptian counterpart. Marty Natalegawa said the process Indonesians call “Reformasi” or Reformation is hard, but not impossible.

“The military used to sit on our parliament, which it no longer does,” Natalegawa said. “But I think the lesson learned for us is that it is possible for a democratization process to result in a return of the military to its – what must be-its original function, namely to protect the country from external threats.”

And that’s exactly why Indonesian theology student Rafli says Egyptian activists need to join political parties and make constitutional reforms from inside the parliament.

He says some of his Indonesian activist friends from college in Jakarta now work for Golkar – which was once Suharto’s party.

But Egyptian political activist Ahmed Salah disagrees. He says because the Egyptian army is still in control, the parties are forced to make bargains and play games — and he doesn’t want to be a part of it.

“I would share the idea of wanting to be in a political party, once you get rid of the corrupt regime fully,” Salah said. “But right now we are still fighting and when you are still fighting you cannot do politics. They are two different issues. If you want to play a game the game has to have fair rules, if there are no fair rules, it is all chaos, then there is no game.”

Rafli admits that even though the army is no longer in parliament, the Reformasi in Indonesia is far from over.

Corrupt former army generals still own many companies and large parts of the rainforest.

And just last month a notorious Suharto-era army man announced that he is running for president in 2014.

The former head of special forces is appealing to farmers and workers.

Indonesian officials say they are hopeful that a dispute at Freeport, the world’s second biggest copper mine, is nearing a resolution. Simon Hanna reports.

In many countries, US diplomats try to build goodwill by sponsoring American artists and cultural events, but security at the embassies is tight, making it difficult to host big groups. The state department also wants to influence young people, but traditional embassy events rarely appeal to them. That’s why the US created a multimillion dollar space for people under 30 in Jakarta’s upscale Pacific Place mall.

The cultural center is called @america – a name chosen because diplomats in the world’s most populous Muslim country thought it would appeal to the technical savvy young people, while conveying a measure of respect.

“We chose lower case letters specifically because we wanted to be more humble, and in Asia that’s very important,” says @america’s director Jason Rebholz.

But there’s nothing humble about this high-tech place. Six projectors run seven days a week, 11 hours a day, flashing hundreds of colorful images: Michael Jordan and Mickey Mouse, Martin Luther King, and Elvis, the skyline of Chicago and the St. Louis Arch.

In one corner of the 1,700-square-feet space, visitors who missed it can experience President Barack Obama’s visit to Jakarta, and the speech in which he reminisced about his childhood here.

Each day, an average of 300 people come to the center to hear a lecture, take part in a teleconference, view a film or enjoy a concert. Recently, about two dozen university students gathered to discuss the American classic “Huckleberry Finn.”

“The place is cozy, and the people are so friendly,” says English literature major Dian Miyfitri. She comes often to hear talks, to lounge in bean bag chairs and to use one of 60 iPads loaded with information about America and university programs for international students.

“The iPad check out is probably one of the more popular things,” says Rebholz. “iPads here are extremely expensive, so people appreciate being able to borrow one and to use our high speed Internet.”

(Photo: Sandy Hausman)

Before entering @america, visitors must walk through a metal detector and place their possessions on a conveyor belt to be X-rayed, but in a country that has had its own brush with terrorist bombings, few people complain. “It’s kind of a hassle, but it’s okay,” says college student Gusty Ramadhana. “It’s for our safety.”

The center cost $5 million to build and $3 million a year to operate, but some officials at the US State Department consider it a great investment.

“Engagement is changing, and a lot of that change is now coming about through social networking and technology,” says Dawn McCall, coordinator of international information programs. “Indonesia is a very tech savvy country — particularly the young people there, so we felt it was a great laboratory for us to try a lot of different things.”

She adds that @america could be a model for 21st century diplomacy – using the excitement of American culture and technology to spark discussions of more serious issues. If it’s deemed a success in Indonesia, the US could open similar centers in other countries where it hopes to build stronger relationships.

Sandy Hausman traveled to Indonesia as part of a fellowship with the International Reporting Project.

With 20 million vehicles on the streets each day, and with far less pavement than in big cities like New York, Singapore and Tokyo, traffic in Jakarta is terrible. Deden Rukmana, who teaches urban planning at Savannah State University, says the population of the world’s sixth largest metropolis has been growing so fast that the city can’t keep up.

“In 2000, they had 20 million and in 2010 up to 28 million. There is a study showing that Jakarta will have total traffic gridlock by 2014,” he said.

To reduce the number of cars on the road, lawmakers have designated several main arteries as what they call “Three in One zones.” During the morning and afternoon rush, you can’t drive there unless you have at least three people on board. That’s why, near the entrances to the zones, men, women and children line up – raising their index finger – offering to rent themselves to commuters in a hurry.

20-year-old Litjak climbs into a black sedan, cradling her 2-month-old daughter Nabilah. Together, they’ll help a college student get to class on time. The baby gives Litjak a competitive advantage, providing two passengers for the price of one.

Litjak says she can make at least two trips in a morning, collecting two or three dollars to help pay for household expenses. She never worries about her safety, and she likes the work. People who can afford to pay have nice cars, so she sits in air conditioned comfort, listening to the radio.

She and others in this line of work are called traffic jockeys. They dress neatly each day and may have regular customers. For some, it’s their only income. Others, like 21-year-old Adik, see this as an easy way to make extra cash when he’s not on the job parking cars.

“Oh yeah. Sometimes it’s a good deal. Sometimes, when I hit it lucky, when it’s a good day I can make a lot,” Adik says. “There are no guarantees when you do this kind of thing. But sometimes I get 20,000 rupiahs.”

That’s about $2.35 in a city where the poor live on less than a dollar a day. Jockeys are well worth the price for 50-year-old Fannie, who doesn’t want to give her last name. A busy executive with a pharmaceutical firm, she recalls rainy days when it took two hours to get to work and three hours to get home.

21-year-old Adik sees this as an easy way to make extra cash when he's not on the job parking cars. (Photo: Sandy Hausman)

It is not legal to work as a jockey. Some have been arrested and drivers can be fined. But Fannie and her passenger say they’ve never been caught. 14-year-old Allah sits in the front seat by Fannie’s driver. He’ll head for school in afternoon, but in the morning he is excited to be seeing the city, learning his way around and earning money for books and other family expenses. It is money that Fannie is happy to provide.

“We help somebody to make a living. That’s what I think,” she says.

But the jockeys of Jakarta may be endangered by their own success. Government officials say the money spent on these professional hitchhikers could instead help pay for mass transit, and they’re considering creating toll roads to replace Three in One Zones. Indonesia has also secured a $1.3 billion loan from Japan to build a rapid transit system. But that project, like the traffic, is moving slowly, with completion.

Sandy Hausman traveled to Indonesia as part of a fellowship with the International Reporting Project.

Eilertsen wrote it after a tsunami devastated the Indonesian region of Aceh on December 26, 2004. He says he himself was nowhere near the disaster.

“I was at home celebrating Christmas in Norway, far away from the events … outside, actually, almost all day in the snow, playing,” Eilertsen said. “So it’s really a contrast.”

The melody echoes in the mind’s ear each time it stops for a quiet passage.

“I wanted to have these pauses in between, almost like a wave,” he said. “I mean, not the big wave, but all the endless waves … that time after and the silence in between. That’s where the main motif is, just repeating, repeating, with a little variation.”

Eilertsen said that the other three musicians in the Wolfert Brederode Quartet had no idea that the piece was inspired by the tsunami that ravaged Aceh.

“Somehow, I never felt any need to tell anybody, because I don’t want it to be programmed music, even though it’s based on a concrete event. It’s just my way of turning my emotions into something concrete, like getting control of them or letting it out. I can’t write a sad poem; this is my way of expressing myself.”

The answer is Borneo, which is divided into Indonesia, Brunei and Malaysia.

The Batang Lupar river in Malaysian Borneo is known for its tidal bores. The tidal bore is a force of nature like no other. One of around sixty known to occur in rivers worldwide, the tidal bore in the Batang Lupar River in Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo, is one of the largest. Maria Bakkalapulo jumped onboard a small boat and braved the tidal bore. She sent this report.

A tidal bore requires a precise mix of topography, geography and tides. Simply put, it’s when tidewater – funneled into a river’s mouth – crashes against the river’s outflow. That can cause one huge wave, or set of waves, to travel back upstream – sometimes as much as 50 miles. The height of the waves vary, but the really good ones for surfers are about 10 feet high.

Four French surfers were there to ride the wave – even after spotting three Salt Water crocodiles earlier that day. Bruno Andre is one of them.

“It is exciting because the phenomenon is amazing,” Andre said. “The water goes out of the river and when it comes back it makes a huge mass of water coming through and breaking and making a long, long wave. You can surf for many, many miles.”

The surfers use fast boats to chase and overtake the waves, jumping on and off, sometimes surfing continuously for five to ten minutes at a time.

Bruno Andre and Fabienne D'Ortoli being pulled by a speed boat in order to catch up with the tidal bore. Betang Lupar Benak. July, 2, 2011.
(Photo: Maria Bakkalapulo)

“When I was waiting for the wave to appear, it was just a little white line in the distance. But once it started to roll in, it rolls in on very shallow water, it is more like froth coming at you,” Wong said.

He said it is all bubbly, but when it enters the river mouth, it starts to build and it starts to get smooth.

“It is just beautiful, I think that is the right word,” he said.

Antony Colas is author of The World Stormrider Guide. He has surfed six of the largest tidal bores in the world.

Colas said that looking at the head of the bore before actually launching into it is very important.

“That is the game. It is like you are catching a train that is moving,” he said.

He said the tide never waits or stops for anyone and that riding the actual wave is a feeling of flying.

There’s a festive atmosphere whenever there’s a tidal bore – or Benak as it’s called on the Batang Lupar River. The locals appreciate the tourists, but also find the Benak beneficial in other ways.

50,000 spectators came out over the 4 day weekend in July to watch the surfers, boat races and enjoy the food and fun on the riverside. (Photo: Maria Bakkalapulo)

“During the Benak time, it is time for us to catch shrimp or fish, for us, for food, for our meals,” Bundak said.

He said that when the Benak come they go to the river bank just between the river and the bank and put their fish baskets. The water current pushes the shrimp and fish inside the baskets.

But the easy fishing is not without its dangers. Saltwater crocodiles are common and reach frightening proportions. They kill about half-a-dozen people each year in the area. But despite the risks, the Batang Lupar Benak is becoming more and more popular.

Elena Zlatoustovskaya sits in a popular Moscow restaurant. She looks cool, sleek and sexy holding an ultra-slim cigarette between her fingers.

At least that’s what marketing wizards would have you think. And Zlatoustovskaya should know. She’s a big wig at the Moscow office of public relations firm Edelman.

“Smoking is quite traditional thing in Russia,” Zlatoustovskaya said. “A lot of ladies are smoking in Russia. This is a really big problem for Russia. A lot of people are accustomed to smoking really cheap cigarettes with low quality tobacco. They are just accustomed to smoke.

And accustomed, they are. A World Health Organization study puts Russia among the smokiest nation in the world with more smokers per capita than Indonesia or China.

And, according to Zlatoustovskaya, advertisers are using every weapon in their arsenal to get even more smokers. It’s not unusual to see scantily-clad young women standing on some of the city’s most popular streets, like Tverskaya, offering cigarettes to lure people in.

“Sampling is very popular,” Zlatoustovskaya said. “So you’re just walking around the street and a girl near the metro station comes to you and says we have new cigarettes. They will pay a lot of attention to that kind of action, that kind of promotion.”

That type of street-level promotion seems to be doing the trick. In 2009, Russia was the largest market worldwide for slim/ultra slim cigarettes, which are generally targeted towards young women. These types of cigarettes often feature flowers on their packaging. Aromatic cigarettes are also the latest, greatest thing.

One of Philip Morris’ brands, Virginia Slims Uno, in both black and white is meant to fit a woman’s “mood.” Ads for the cigarette feature hip, sophisticated model-type looking women on the go.

Phillip Morris officials say their slim cigarette sales jumped 91 percent from 2006 to 2009. Those numbers have embarrassed the Kremlin and Russia has pledged to cut the number of its smokers by up to 15 percent by 2050.

The government has also banned cigarette ads on television and has introduced warning labels on cigarette packages that read, “Smoking Kills”. And that smoking can cause heart attacks, strokes, death and impotence, among other things.

The WHO wants Russia to do more, as other countries have done, like put graphic images of smoke-ravaged lungs on cigarette packages.

What does PR Director Zlatoustovskaya think about the possibility of that happening? She rolled her eyes.

“I’m not sure they will do anything like that,” Zlatoustovskaya said. “I don’t think they would change the package. They get very good taxes from that so I don’t think they will decide and say we care about our population we need them to be more healthy. That is why we will do our best; we will do whatever we need to do just to keep them healthy. Now, I don’t believe that.”

Meanwhile, Russia’s health minister, Tatiana Golikova says the country has to do everything possible to combat the country’s high smoking rates, so she’s all for the gloomy pictures.

When you step out of the international airport in Jakarta, it seems impossible that this could be Marlboro Country.

It’s oppressively hot and humid. Traffic is bumper to bumper, and the air is barely breathable – but as you drive into town, you can’t miss the message. Half of all billboards in this country promote cigarettes.

Flip on the television, and you might catch an ad in which a guy rides his motorcycle to the top of a volcano – or one in which a construction worker – through superhuman stunts – prevents a serious accident.

By law, they can’t show cigarettes but that’s what both are advertising – with brands getting a prominent mention. Concerts and sporting events are often sponsored by tobacco companies, and fans take note.

A 2008 report showed 29 percent of Indonesians aged 10 and above smoke an average of 12 cigarettes a day. It’s an easy habit to acquire, with cigarettes costing less than a dollar a pack or $0.10 a piece. Indonesia chooses not to impose high taxes on cigarettes – a move that would almost certainly decrease sales.

Then, there’s the culture.

Dr. Yayi Suryo Prabandari, on the public health faculty of Gadja Mada University, says, it’s illegal to sell cigarettes to kids under 18, but it happens all the time.

Early attempts to pass stricter laws have met with strong opposition. Often, politicians cite the need to protect tobacco farmers and thousands of workers – mostly women – employed to hand roll Indonesia’s famed clove-studded smokes, and cigarettes are an important source of tax revenue.

There’s one other factor working in tobacco’s favor.

Since 2008, Marcus has worked as a counselor in a central Java clinic that helps people quit smoking. Over those three years he’s seen just 114 people.

Many people ask Marcus whether there is a medicine to stop smoking.

Yayi says there is not and that the makers of nicotine gum and patches see Indonesia as a poor country – not a lucrative market.

“Fifteen years ago, they try to sell in Indonesia, but the market is not very good, so they withdraw,” Yayi said.

On the international front, Indonesia is one of only three countries that refused to ratify the World Health Organization’s Framework Convention on Tobacco Control – a document that requires nations to reduce tobacco use. The country does require cigarette packs to carry labels that warn of medical risks – including impotence – and it required photographs of hideous health consequences even before the US.

At one of Jakarta’s biggest movie theaters, Richard Olsen, an Indonesia-based filmmaker, runs down what’s playing on the big screens.

“A Thai horror movie, a Danish film. Normally you don’t see things like this,” Olsen said. “You’d see Kung Fu Panda way before you’d see this.”

But for the past four months, Indonesia hasn’t been getting any new movies from Hollywood. Olsen said he used to go to the movies two times a week, but the last movie he saw in the theaters was The King’s Speech, in February.

Olsen said that his friends in Australia tease him, telling him about the great movies they’ve just seen.

“I have no chance to watch it unless I go overseas,” Olsen said. “It’s ridiculous.”

The great Indonesian movie crisis, as some bloggers call it, comes down to an unresolved tax dispute. In February, the Indonesian government announced a new system for calculating tax on imported films. The Motion Picture Association of America or MPAA said with the new system, it’s no longer worth it to send films to Indonesia.

Syamsul Lussa, director of film affairs at the Indonesian Ministry of Culture, said he thinks there’s been a misunderstanding. He said that the studios think they’re being taxed twice, and that’s not true.

“I check with my friends at the tax director general — no double taxation,” he said. “It is impossible that the taxes and duties are double.”

The MPAA wouldn’t comment for this story because it’s currently in discussions with the Indonesian government. Syamsul, who faced criticism here for going to the Cannes Film Festival in May in the middle of the crisis, said the Ministry of Culture will announce a resolution as early as next week.

But he said that last week, too.

Meanwhile, Indonesian movie theaters are suffering. They’ve seen a 60 percent drop in income since February, and some theaters have closed.

It seems many Indonesians are getting their Hollywood movies another way.

At a mall in central Jakarta, there is a wide selection of pirated DVDs. The women who work at this DVD stand say one movie is selling especially well, the new animated FOX feature* “Rio.” Rio came out in the states in March but no one knows when it will come out in theaters here. Virginia, a DVD vendor, spoke frankly about the fact that her business is flourishing.

“More people are buying DVDs because there are no new films in the theatres,” she said. “A lot of people are buying ‘Water for Elephants’ and ‘Mildred Pierce’.

There’s another unintended winner here, one that is on the big screen. It’s an Indonesian war movie called “Hati Merdeka,” or Hearts of Freedom.

“What we’ve been telling people is who needs Hollywood blockbusters when you have Indonesian blockbusters? We have one right here!” said Rob Allyn, an American producer and co-writer of Hati Merdeka.

The movie is the final part of a trilogy about young cadets fighting the Dutch in Indonesia’s war for Independence, and it’s the biggest budget film project in Indonesian history.

Allyn’s son, Conor Allyn, the director and co-writer, said he expects the movie will do especially well because “it’s not competing with Thors and Green Lanterns and Hulks, and what not.”

But for student and movie lover Rezki Gautama Tanrere, Hati Merdeka isn’t enough. He wants Pirates of the Caribbean, and he’s sick of watching DVDs.

“Watching in the movies is much better than watching on DVDs,” Rezki said. “The taste, the feel of watching in cinemas is very different.”

Rezki said ultimately the movie crisis reflects the Indonesian government’s lack of concern for its citizens.

“Even if I protest, the government won’t even hear us,” Rezki said. “They don’t really care about us actually. Maybe they don’t have time to listen to us.”

But Richard Olsen said there’s one thing that will make the government listen — Harry Potter.

“We’ve been quite quiet in this ordeal as a nation, as a city, but I think if there’s no Harry Potter, all the Harry Potter fans are going to go nuts,” Olsen said. “There are going to be a lot of angry Indonesians.”

The final installment of the Harry Potter movies is due in Indonesian theaters in July – maybe.

Bornean Orangutan (Pongo pygmaeus)

Their habitat happens to be in Indonesia and Malaysia but it’s limited to 2 islands. One island has the oldest rainforest in the world…the other is the largest island entirely in Indonesia.

Can you name them?

Rhinannon (left) and Madison