Like most of Jakarta, people who had previously lived in Kalijodo are trans migrant who came from a far. They stay, they live, they transform from years to years, until it known for the infamous night life–prostitution and gambling area.
Years went on, many has been trying to evict Kalijodo, but never succeed. What is dead may never die–Kalijodo resisted from fall and rise again, only move from one hand to another. Until one day he came, and determined for change. He executed right away, and transform the darkest area in Jakarta, into the rarest place to be found inside the city–public park.
Stepping inside Kalijodo Skatepark is like grasping air from a long time holding breath. There’s no building blocking my sight, or sunlight, for at least few acres. There’s hard shadows in my photographs, an expensive element that has been long gone obstructed by sky-high towers. There’s wind freely breezing, among those who crave to feel the same, before finally going back to their small, claustrophobic house inside the city’s veins.
It was overly crowded. The excitement for this place was mesmerized me. As I suppose, those who live at least 10 kilometers far come to this park to enjoy city’s new entertainment. Kalijodo is now becoming all-in-one package deal to spend the evening: to ride a bike, to skate, to play with re-hyped rollerblade, to sit where you shouldn’t be, or to take selfies. You don’t need to wear nice clothes and shoes. Kalijodo will not judge you by the way you look, or economic status you are in.
Kalijodo is now rise again for once, and for all.
What is dead, may never die.
Shot with T-Max 100, developed by @hipercatlab