Whilst travelling through Indonesia I've discovered what I like to call micro-economic systems--age-old, trading networks that pre-date our current national boundaries.

These trading networks tend to focus on particular pairs of cities (or towns). Perhaps the most noteworthy of these linkages are the one's that bind Penang and Medan together.

However, in West Kalimantan I came across a surprisingly dynamic pairing--Kuching and Pontianak--that has benefited people on both sides of the border, reminding me once again that the anti-Malaysian rhetoric one hears so often in Jakarta, rarely impacts on the outer regions of this vast republic.

Indeed it's worth calculating the extent to which Indonesian demand has contributed to the local economies in both Penang and Kuching.

It would also be interesting to estimate the extent with which Kota Kinabalu's vastly over-built property sector could benefit from being more closely tied in with the booming East Kalimantan economy.

However, given that there are no direct flights between Sabah and any Kalimantan city and that Sabahan officials seem uninterested in building linkages with Indonesia, this remains mere speculation

Still, every day some twelve or fifteen buses leave the West Kalimantan provincial capital of Pontianak for Kuching. With fares ranging around Rp170,000 (or RM65) the eight-hour service between the two cities is regular, well-travelled and extremely popular.

In fact there are other bus services heading directly for Miri and Bandar Seri Begawan (via Serian)--carrying many overseas workers.

The cheap bus fares has made it tougher for the airlines to compete. They, in turn have had to curtail their flights between the two destinations. MAS has even stopped flying the route.

Virtually every middle class person I met and/or interviewed in Pontianak (as well as the province's second largest town of Singkawang) sent--or had sent--his or her children to college in Kuching. Inevitably most people also conducted their regular medical check-ups in the state capital as well.

By way of comparison, there are no bus services from Pontianak to Kalimantan's other provincial capitals of Palangkaraya, Banjarmasin or Samarinda. Indeed the overland, trans-Kalimantan route is almost non-existent. Certainly, during the rainy season the dirt roads are virtually impassable.

Moreover, to add to the sense of isolation there are no flights between these cities either. Thus virtually all intra-Kalimantan traffic is routed via Jakarta.

This is a state of affairs remains a constant source of frustration for the island's political leaders. They resent seeing Kalimantan's immense wealth being funnelled elsewhere whilst their own development needs remain unfulfilled.

Still, there is constant Malaysian presence in Pontianak, a city of well over half a million.

There are the Malaysian registered cars and buses on the roads, advertising hoardings for colleges and hospitals in Kuching as well as familiar brands like Julies and Apollo in the local supermarkets.

At the same time much of the sugar traded in Pontianak's markets is thought to have been smuggled in from across the border, with traders arbitaging on the subsidized Malaysian prices.

Pontianak is not a small city. Straddling the confluence of the Kapuas and the Landak rivers, Pontianak, its diverse mix of Chinese, Malay and Dayak (not to mention the ubiquitous Javanese and Madurese) has been the main commercial centre for this stretch of Kalimantan for well over a century.

The broad--and still busy--Kapuas river has served as a major artery into the interior. Indeed, the city has witnessed successive natural resource booms over the centuries--from gold mining to timber.

Much like Sandakan to the east, Pontianak's fortunes soared in the 70's and 80's as logging took off. However, over-logging, the growing scarcity of supplies and environmental concerns have virtually wiped out the business. The empty sawmills alongside the river are a testimony to this industry's demise.

Much like Sandakan once again, Pontianak has been forced to re-invent itself as an oil palm hub. With estates located deep up-country, the city has become a major trading and servicing centre for the plantation sector.

Interestingly, when the good times passed, many of those drawn to the region--and especially the large numbers of Hakka Chinese--stopped mining and prospecting and became farmers once again, creating in turn a large rural Chinese population that was once scattered across the province.

However, and unlike in Sarawak where inward migration has been very carefully monitored and controlled, West Kalimantan's racial and religious mix is far more complex.

Transmigration programs amongst other things have meant that there are hundreds of thousands of Javanese and Madurese living in the province--men and women for whom failure is not an option. Hard-working and in the case of the Madurese, relatively aggressive and singe-minded, their inclusion has created a certain level of social tension that can and has flared up into violence over the years.

For example, back in 2001 and 2002 the Madurese were forced out of the interior and into the towns by bands of Dayaks and Malays. No one is too sure how many people were killed in what amounted to was essentially a program of ethnic cleansing.

And, as my driver, a young Malay man said quite omenously as we drove around Pontianak: "the Madurese wouldn't go into the interior because they'd never return." Indonesia is so close and yet, so far away. (CERITALAH By KARIM RASLAN/MySinchew)