There are no computers in Sweet Orange, G.’s truck, I noticed as I climbed in today. It could be 1975 in here. This will be useful in case of “AI apocalypse”, or whatever it’s called when our tools stop working because they’ve all become subscription-based.
Sweet Orange is a Mitsubishi L300 pickup truck, custom painted in mint bluish-green, with bright orange and yellow accents. A photo of Sweet Orange might break the blog. Prayers, slogans and mottos, in Indonesian, Javanese, English, and Japanese, in different sizes and street-art fonts, (with letters whose edges appear lightning-blazed or ripped into metal), are airbrushed or stuck on with decals. The most prominent is “berkah 77”, a prayer of dedication to G.’s mother, born in 1977. (A reminder that in Indonesia, E. and I are grandparent-aged.) There are two anime ladies’ faces on one side, and a third on the other. A decal on the driver’s-side window warns, “18+”. Sweet Orange is tricked out with an array of string lights that ripple across her dashboard in rainbow colors, at night, for safety, or on command, for fun. It is mesmerizing. She is part of a truck driver community. Her decorations and adornments are a language she shares with other trucks (of a similar orientation).
(All of this is G.’s world, of course. He gets shy if we ask too much, but it’s pretty obvious he loves his truck.)
She’s called Sweet Orange because (announcing her purpose) she mainly transports oranges across Java and Bali. That is, when she’s not transporting us. I get a lot of weird looks, a princess-looking bule riding around in such a vehicular statement, but this kind of attention, somehow, I don’t mind. It sets a good example, there’s nothing wrong with a working-class truck, and of course, we’re proud of Sweet Orange too.