By Najamuddin Khairur Rijal
A few days ago, Indonesian social media were filled with photos of something unexpected in Taiwan: public notices written in Indonesian.
One widely shared image showed a no-smoking sign in Taipei’s Ximending (西門町) area. Alongside Chinese and English, the warning appeared in Indonesian, saying that smoking was prohibited outside designated areas. Another image showed a notice in Indonesian inside a shop asking customers not to open products before paying.
The posts quickly attracted comments. Some Indonesians reacted with embarrassment. The implication was uncomfortable, but easy to understand. Indonesian-language warnings would hardly be necessary, unless Indonesian visitors or residents had repeatedly been associated with the behavior being discouraged.
There is a lesson here that should not be avoided: Indonesians living or traveling abroad carry not only passports, but also a representation of their country. Smoking where it is prohibited, littering and disregarding other local rules might look like individual behavior, but it can easily become attached to a nationality.
The appearance of Indonesian on warning signs can be read as a reminder of civic responsibility. Living abroad requires more than adapting to a new workplace. It also means understanding how public space is regulated and how everyday behavior is judged by society.
The same signs also reveal how deeply Indonesians have become part of Taiwan’s social landscape. According to the Ministry of Labor, there were 329,586 Indonesian migrant workers in Taiwan at the end of March, making them the largest group of foreign workers in Taiwan.
The Ministry of Education said that more than 19,300 Indonesian students were studying in Taiwan last academic year. These numbers are large enough to transform everyday life.
Indonesian caregivers look after Taiwanese elderly people. Factory workers contribute to manufacturing. Fishers work in an industry vital to Taiwan’s maritime economy. Students study in Taiwanese universities. Indonesian shops, restaurants and community gatherings have become familiar parts of life in Taiwanese cities.
This is why an Indonesian-language sign means more than a warning. A city translates its everyday instructions into a language, because speakers of that language have become visible.
Indonesia and Taiwan do not have formal diplomatic relations. Indonesia maintains its “one China” policy, while practical relations are managed through representative offices. On paper, the relationship has political limits. However, at the level of society, the relationship is remarkably dense.
Formal diplomacy might be limited, but everyday diplomacy is flourishing. It happens in factories, classrooms, nursing homes, fishing ports, convenience stores and train stations. Daily encounters rarely make diplomatic headlines, but they create something diplomacy often struggles to produce: familiarity.
For Indonesians in Taiwan, greater visibility brings greater responsibility. Community organizations, recruitment agencies and Indonesian institutions should pay more attention to civic orientation.
For Taiwan, Indonesian should not appear only when something has gone wrong. If the language is useful for saying “do not smoke” or “do not open this product,” it is equally useful for explaining labor rights, health services, emergency procedures, public transportation and other forms of public information.
Language can discipline, but it can also welcome. Perhaps that is the most interesting meaning of these signs. They reveal friction, certainly, but they also reveal proximity.
Taiwan and Indonesia might not exchange ambassadors, yet their societies encounter one another every day. Sometimes, the reality of an international relationship is written not in a treaty, but on a signboard.
Najamuddin Khairur Rijal is an associate professor in the International Relations Department at the University of Muhammadiyah Malang in Indonesia.