It was a pleasant evening, and I always order a Japanese iced filter whenever I spend time at this particular slow bar in Jakarta. As I sipped my 50k-something coffee, my mind began to contemplate the passage of time.
Ten years ago, I only paid 18k for the same menu item, the same beans. I understand how inflation works, and I know that coffee crops depend heavily on nature to thrive. Yet, as I sat there, I realized how drastically prices have skyrocketed over the last decade—not just for coffee, but for everything. Even though my salary has increased fourfold in that time, I still feel as though my buying power has weakened.
It wasn't just the price of the beans that bothered me; it was the realization that the cost of living is quietly eroding everything I’ve worked for. I won't go into the weeds of government mismanagement, but it reminded me of a scene in The Trial of the Chicago 7, where Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character asks Sacha Baron Cohen’s about his contempt for his government. His answer echoed mine.
No, I don't hate this city or this country. But I feel like I'm in a one-sided relationship. Whenever I earn my salary and pay my taxes, it feels like that money just disappears into a vacuum of corruption. I don't pay "mega-taxes," but that’s the problem—I’m not poor enough to qualify for subsidies, nor am I rich enough to access tax loopholes.
I’ve worked hard, climbed the corporate ladder, and brought home a good income, yet I feel like I’m always one paycheck away from sliding backward. Without a real safety net, it’s hard not to feel that the government has a certain contempt for the middle class—the very people trying to keep this country running.
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