Seth Mydans, Surabaya – The military officer seemed puzzled when asked about the giant Tactica armored water cannon that was parked beside him, in front of the glass-and-chrome Delta Plaza Shopping Center. "Vehicle?" he asked. "You mean those taxis over there?"

Shoppers bustled in and out of the shopping center, where a young woman in the foyer sang love songs accompanied by a grand piano – apparently as oblivious as the military officer to the riot-control vehicle with "Polisi" painted in large white letters on its side.

Another water cannon was parked not far away outside the Tunjungan Plaza shopping center. Another was at the Galaxi Mall. Two military transports were parked near the central railroad station. Soldiers in camouflage uniforms lounged at traffic-control booths.

Indonesia's second-largest city is on full alert, and despite their outward nonchalance, the people here share nervous reports about the latest food riots in smaller towns to the south and east and west of them. "Everything is normal," insisted a young saleswoman at Delta Plaza, before asking for the latest news about the riots.

In one of the taxis that were indeed parked outside near the water cannon, a driver described himself as "a little bit jittery". "Security is really tight because people around here are hot-headed," said the driver, tapping his forehead in a local gesture that indicates that patience is running out.

Indonesia has become the focus of concern in Asia's economic crisis, with its economy showing less hope of an early recovery and its political stability more uncertain than in Thailand, South Korea and Malaysia.

But despite the riots that have spread in recent weeks through this huge archipelago of 200 million people, and despite the worries in cities like this one, only a major eruption in Jakarta, the capital, seems likely to have a significant impact on the nation's stability.

President Suharto is due to be acclaimed in Parliament next month for a seventh five-year term despite the growing restiveness. This event, together with the pain of rising prices and unemployment, has raised the political temperature in Jakarta. And outside the capital, small demonstrations against rising prices have become more frequent and opponents of the president have become bolder in their criticisms.

Surabaya is a city with a reputation for tight security rather than for riots, but it is also known as the City of Heroes because of an uprising in 1945 that helped bring down the Dutch colonial administration. "Surabaya is one of the barometers of Indonesia," said the taxi driver proudly, though he refused to give his name. "Everyone knows: if Surabaya explodes, it all goes up."

In the city's northwestern industrial section, where giant warehouses and factory buildings testify to the country's rapid growth over the past decade, security forces were also preparing for unrest as thousands of workers lose their jobs. "It's unpredictable," said a long-time foreign resident, describing the latest rumors of impending riots. "It's always a combination of circumstances: wrong shop, wrong time, a group protesting at a factory." He said the security at the shopping centers reflected a concern that as symbols of affluence, they could be targets of angry crowds. Shopping centers were also heavily guarded in Jakarta when a huge riot erupted there in July 1996.

Troops in Jakarta have staged a show of force with a demonstration of anti-riot tactics. And police are questioning men who arrive at Jakarta's train and bus stations and have sent home several hundred who cannot prove their residency or prospects for a job in the capital.

In another effort to defuse tensions, the government has begun job-creation programs to absorb some of the growing millions of unemployed. "The main worry now is the capital, not these riots and demonstrations we are seeing around the country," said a political analyst in Jakarta. "We are still seeing a net inflow of 400,000 people into the capital, despite the economic crisis and the loss of job opportunities here."

In the Glotok market in Jakarta, a vendor, Sarki, was selling sweet pyramid-shaped pastries. He said that the costs of all his ingredients – flour, sugar, rice and coconut milk – had gone up, but that he dared not raise his own prices for fear of losing customers. Like most Indonesians, he was suffering in fatalistic silence, reluctant to place the blame for his hardships. "It's the monetary crisis," he said, though he was not certain exactly what that meant. Asked if times are hard, he answered simply, "Yesterday was better."