Grassroots theatre rising again in East Java © Duncan Graham 2007
Organizers reckoned around half a million people attended this year’s five-day Malang Festival – a marvelous annual free event staged in the East Java city's elegant boulevard – Jalan Ijen.
Official participants and many onlookers wore period costumes; favorites were the floppy light khaki of the 1945 Revolutionaries and the pith helmets and twirly mustaches of the Colonialists.
The mood was nationalistic, fun and upbeat. The crowds were enthusiastic about the huge blow-ups of old time photos that lined the street – their genuine interest proving history is not bunk.
Overwhelmingly popular were the ludruk (grassroots theatre) shows, coarse, traditional, improvised knockabout music-hall style performances with men and transsexuals playing the roles of women to the clang of gamelan. The language was low Javanese and the huge crowds loved it, particularly the rude words.
Before television spread to the towns and villages ludruk artists could be found almost everywhere. According to one researcher, by 1965 there were 40 times more dramatic groups in Java than in the US.
Ludruk producer, Henri Supriyanto a lecturer in culture and art at UNESA, the State University of Surabaya, said: "Ludruk is the theatre of the poor. It's a political movement.” Other academics have described it more formally as theatre that 'amplifies and highlights issues of social importance drawn from everyday life.'
Founding president Soekarno was a fan and reportedly hosted 17 performances at his Bogor palace. But Soeharto's New Order government was intolerant of criticism. At first ludruk was controlled, and then suppressed.
A crowd favorite at the Malang shows was East Java singer Kadam a long-time performer who became famous under the patronage of Soekarno where the vocalist with an extraordinary range became a court favorite.
Nicknamed 'Golden Voice', Kadam first met Soekarno at the Presidential Palace in 1960. At that time the 17-year old was a member of a ludruk group from Surabaya invited to perform in Jakarta.
"He took a real liking to me and I returned to the palace and his home in Bogor 13 times," Kadam, 64, said at his home in Malang. "He even picked me up because I was very small, and always waited for us to change after our performances so he could chat to us.
"I was never frightened of him because he treated everyone as equal. He didn't discriminate between high and low. He felt he was in touch with the village people – and he was.
"He was a teacher. He hadn't come from a business background. Unlike other leaders he never forgot his roots. What he said was in his heart and people understood that.
"He was a most exceptional person. There has never been anyone like him. I feel that God has accepted his soul."
Kadam said he earned enough money during the ludruk heydays to buy land and help him survive when the shows fell out of favor.
The Jakarta Post went backstage (meaning behind sheets of ripped plastic and rusty corrugated iron). We watched the players preparing to set the audience roaring with delight at the slapstick routines, songs and robust social comment on everything from the Lapindo mud volcano to politicians' behavior.
The actors had to improvise, do their own makeup while catching the director's orders, rehearse lines, calm nerves, fix their outrageous costumes and boost each other's egos – and all for Rp 30,000 (US $3.50) a night.
Maybe it was like this in Elizabethan England when Shakespeare's plays were performed in a similarly rugged environment by people who wanted to act – not for gain and glamour – but because the stage is their world.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 2 November 07)
##
FAITH IN INDONESIA
The shape of the world a generation from now will be influenced far more by how we communicate the values of our society to others than by military or diplomatic superiority. William Fulbright, 1964
Showing posts with label East Java farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label East Java farming. Show all posts
Friday, November 02, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
POT PROTEST IN EAST JAVA
REACHING FOR THE STARS WITH FEET OF CLAY © Duncan Graham 2007
Few who've climbed to the top of the pile remember their origins. Once fame and fortune arrive it's farewell to their lowly past, according to East Java potter Ponimin.
"The grassroots people get crushed by the political and social system," he said. "Most aren't smart enough. They get tricked by those who are more ambitious.
"The poor also want to succeed, to have materialist goods, but they get trampled. The few who do reach the summit discover it's an illusion and what they hoped to find isn't there. They like to claim they're clever and strong, but in fact they're just victims of the social environment."
But how to express such ideas? Ponimin is an easy-going man who laughs a lot and talks more, particularly about art. You won't find him wearing a headband and shouting into a megaphone at a street protest – though his passions may be just as strong.
He doesn't have a good way with words, – particularly when trying to reach foreigners as he's discovered when lecturing overseas. His skills are in his hands where the language of clay crosses all barriers.
He was chosen as the only Indonesian artist to be represented at the third Asna Clay Triennial held by the Arts Council of Pakistan late last year. His work – according to local press reports – 'mesmerized' visitors and was the center of attraction, competing with sculptures and artifacts from nine other countries.
Reach of No Hope is the artist's title for his work, a large installation that needs plenty of space. It shows dozens of small plump figures clawing their way up ropes and ladders on a pyramid made of sticks.
It's a work that's gone through several changes. Earlier versions shown in Surabaya were titled Climbing on Empty Expectation Stairs.
The structure can be seen in many ways. The symbol of the pyramid is widely used in graphic representations of society – a few at the top and many at the bottom.
It also looks like a scaffold, an instrument of torture.
Those who get to the top crawl like flies across the ceiling, unable to go further. Others tumble to the floor. Some are shattered. It's a metaphor that transcends cultures. The extra quality is the expression on the faces of the figurines.
For the little people are cherubic, jolly wee terracotta urchins, nothing like the grotesque and greedy caricatures normally used to represent the avaricious and ambitious. This is no allegorical work, so the observer is bemused.
"I think their behavior is funny, that's why I make them look happy," he said. "I'm disgusted by the actions of our politicians and leaders since Reformation – but what can we do? We're powerless. As Javanese we tend to accept the situation. So maybe it's better just to laugh."
Ponimin's work has already been shown in Bangladesh and Japan, supported by the Indonesian government through the department of tourism. He hopes that next year it will be displayed in India.
Being an artist with a message is difficult in Indonesia where there are few arts grants. Ponimin, 40, originally from Jombang in East Java, studied at the school of fine arts in Yogya where he worked in most media but eventually settled with clay.
A grandfather had been a potter making kitchenware, but the old man died before young Ponimin could learn the techniques, so he came late to clay.
Jombang is in the heart of terracotta country. The mighty Majapahit Empire flourished 700 years ago in the fertile lowlands fed by the Brantas River. The land was so rich that life wasn't one long struggle to survive.
There was time to develop culture, fight wars, expand trade and create art. The dark riverbank clays were so easy to handle that the people used them to make bricks, tiles, pottery and figurines. Surviving examples give the best clues to how the people of that era lived.
Ponimin loves the local clays' plasticity and the way they hold their shape. They contain little grit. He doesn't have a wheel, preferring the coil system where cords of rolled clay are built into shape using the fingers to smooth and pinch.
"This allows for more creativity," he said. "A wheel makes for uniformity."
Although his studio in the hillltown of Batu looks like a production line with scores of black figures drying in the sun and waiting to be fired in an open oven, every piece is individual.
This is the work he has to do to keep the rupiah flowing. "It's my industrial art," he explained. "Only when I've done enough can I get involved in my fine art. I want to extend the images and ideas that I've been showing overseas but there are no sponsors for this sort of work."
However there have been plenty willing to pay serious money to Ponimin provided he follows their designs, not his.
The clients are housing developers and recreation park investors whose ideas of art come not from the ancient culture that they've inherited and which surrounds them, but from European history books.
Ponimin has had to make statues of dinosaurs, Roman gladiators, Egyptian pharaohs, chariots, figures from Greek mythology, armless Venus de Milo look-alikes, unlimited galloping stallions and even the Sydney Opera House.
These are used to give 'quality' to the tropical urban landscape. Don't worry about the potholes and open drains; a fine figure in a toga nursing a cornucopia keeps the mind off the mundane.
Or maybe they're just a sly way to put statues of semi-clothed maidens around gateways and on median strips. If they featured bare-breasted Javanese virgins there might be an outcry from self-appointed moral guardians, while anything that looks Caucasian and classical is acceptable.
Ponimin is aware of the incongruities and tries to fight them. He teaches art at the Malang State University and pushes his students to look at the local culture and landscape for inspiration.
But they also know what sells. So in the shadow of Mount Kawi, a mountain rich in magic, they're busy molding sway-back Balinese beauties with mask faces, just big enough to fit into a traveler's bag.
"I never think about selling my fine art," Ponimin said. "This what I want to do to express myself. I plan a new installation that reverses the pyramid and has grains of rice trickling down to the people who suffer from all the weight above them."
No doubt they'll still look like happy hobgoblins rather than the gaunt downtrodden masses that normally feature in the art of social protest.
(First published in The Weekender magazine (JP), September 2007)
##
Few who've climbed to the top of the pile remember their origins. Once fame and fortune arrive it's farewell to their lowly past, according to East Java potter Ponimin.
"The grassroots people get crushed by the political and social system," he said. "Most aren't smart enough. They get tricked by those who are more ambitious.
"The poor also want to succeed, to have materialist goods, but they get trampled. The few who do reach the summit discover it's an illusion and what they hoped to find isn't there. They like to claim they're clever and strong, but in fact they're just victims of the social environment."
But how to express such ideas? Ponimin is an easy-going man who laughs a lot and talks more, particularly about art. You won't find him wearing a headband and shouting into a megaphone at a street protest – though his passions may be just as strong.
He doesn't have a good way with words, – particularly when trying to reach foreigners as he's discovered when lecturing overseas. His skills are in his hands where the language of clay crosses all barriers.
He was chosen as the only Indonesian artist to be represented at the third Asna Clay Triennial held by the Arts Council of Pakistan late last year. His work – according to local press reports – 'mesmerized' visitors and was the center of attraction, competing with sculptures and artifacts from nine other countries.
Reach of No Hope is the artist's title for his work, a large installation that needs plenty of space. It shows dozens of small plump figures clawing their way up ropes and ladders on a pyramid made of sticks.
It's a work that's gone through several changes. Earlier versions shown in Surabaya were titled Climbing on Empty Expectation Stairs.
The structure can be seen in many ways. The symbol of the pyramid is widely used in graphic representations of society – a few at the top and many at the bottom.
It also looks like a scaffold, an instrument of torture.
Those who get to the top crawl like flies across the ceiling, unable to go further. Others tumble to the floor. Some are shattered. It's a metaphor that transcends cultures. The extra quality is the expression on the faces of the figurines.
For the little people are cherubic, jolly wee terracotta urchins, nothing like the grotesque and greedy caricatures normally used to represent the avaricious and ambitious. This is no allegorical work, so the observer is bemused.
"I think their behavior is funny, that's why I make them look happy," he said. "I'm disgusted by the actions of our politicians and leaders since Reformation – but what can we do? We're powerless. As Javanese we tend to accept the situation. So maybe it's better just to laugh."
Ponimin's work has already been shown in Bangladesh and Japan, supported by the Indonesian government through the department of tourism. He hopes that next year it will be displayed in India.
Being an artist with a message is difficult in Indonesia where there are few arts grants. Ponimin, 40, originally from Jombang in East Java, studied at the school of fine arts in Yogya where he worked in most media but eventually settled with clay.
A grandfather had been a potter making kitchenware, but the old man died before young Ponimin could learn the techniques, so he came late to clay.
Jombang is in the heart of terracotta country. The mighty Majapahit Empire flourished 700 years ago in the fertile lowlands fed by the Brantas River. The land was so rich that life wasn't one long struggle to survive.
There was time to develop culture, fight wars, expand trade and create art. The dark riverbank clays were so easy to handle that the people used them to make bricks, tiles, pottery and figurines. Surviving examples give the best clues to how the people of that era lived.
Ponimin loves the local clays' plasticity and the way they hold their shape. They contain little grit. He doesn't have a wheel, preferring the coil system where cords of rolled clay are built into shape using the fingers to smooth and pinch.
"This allows for more creativity," he said. "A wheel makes for uniformity."
Although his studio in the hillltown of Batu looks like a production line with scores of black figures drying in the sun and waiting to be fired in an open oven, every piece is individual.
This is the work he has to do to keep the rupiah flowing. "It's my industrial art," he explained. "Only when I've done enough can I get involved in my fine art. I want to extend the images and ideas that I've been showing overseas but there are no sponsors for this sort of work."
However there have been plenty willing to pay serious money to Ponimin provided he follows their designs, not his.
The clients are housing developers and recreation park investors whose ideas of art come not from the ancient culture that they've inherited and which surrounds them, but from European history books.
Ponimin has had to make statues of dinosaurs, Roman gladiators, Egyptian pharaohs, chariots, figures from Greek mythology, armless Venus de Milo look-alikes, unlimited galloping stallions and even the Sydney Opera House.
These are used to give 'quality' to the tropical urban landscape. Don't worry about the potholes and open drains; a fine figure in a toga nursing a cornucopia keeps the mind off the mundane.
Or maybe they're just a sly way to put statues of semi-clothed maidens around gateways and on median strips. If they featured bare-breasted Javanese virgins there might be an outcry from self-appointed moral guardians, while anything that looks Caucasian and classical is acceptable.
Ponimin is aware of the incongruities and tries to fight them. He teaches art at the Malang State University and pushes his students to look at the local culture and landscape for inspiration.
But they also know what sells. So in the shadow of Mount Kawi, a mountain rich in magic, they're busy molding sway-back Balinese beauties with mask faces, just big enough to fit into a traveler's bag.
"I never think about selling my fine art," Ponimin said. "This what I want to do to express myself. I plan a new installation that reverses the pyramid and has grains of rice trickling down to the people who suffer from all the weight above them."
No doubt they'll still look like happy hobgoblins rather than the gaunt downtrodden masses that normally feature in the art of social protest.
(First published in The Weekender magazine (JP), September 2007)
##
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
MODEL AIRCRAFT IN MALANG
NO FEAR OF FLYING © Duncan Graham 2007
The difference between men and boys is the size of their toys.
The old proverb holds good most Sundays at a recreation park in Malang, East Java, when a crew of alleged adults get together to realize their fantasies.
They're bankers, businessmen (the women, emulating air hostesses, tend to supply food and drink), oil industry executives and just about anyone who had their childhood dreams of freedom in the skies grounded.
"At primary school I always wanted to fly planes – the commercial variety," said Budi Santoso, organizer of the Malang Raya Aeromodelling Club (scaled down to MR AC). "But I didn't choose that path; instead I became an engineer.
"There are four kids in my family, though we only have three children. Am I a frustrated pilot? Yes, I think so!"
They may never get to wrap their palms round the throttles of an Airbus but they'll handle most things short of wearing a peaked cap and calming a cabin full of nervous souls by articulating with authority the sentence of assurance: 'This is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard'.
In fact the wannabe aviators can do more; how many A 320 jockeys have designed and built the aircraft they fly?
Australian aid administrator Barry Clark has been playing (woops! – carrying out aerodynamic experiments) with model aircraft for more than 40 years. He's made his own in the past but the pride of his current fleet is a big yellow craft he bought ARTF (almost ready to fly) in Jakarta. This means it took him only four hours to assemble.
There are few local suppliers outside the capital so members have to rely on friends who travel regularly, particularly to Singapore and Australia where the hobby is big business. Vietnam is now producing some excellent models for those without either the patience to build or tolerant partners.
("Wait a moment, darling; I'll come to bed just as soon as I've fiddled this flap. I've got a drag and yaw problem.")
An expensive pastime? Not if you go for tethered round-the-pole planes controlled by two hand-held cables, according to Budi who makes many of his own parts.
For the free radio-controlled craft the cost depends on what you want, how digitally smart you are (fingers and electronics), and your knowledge of flight science. Set aside Rp 1 million rupiah (US $112) for a basic body, double that for the engine and controls, triple it for the transmitter and toss in another million or so for other gizmos you're bound to want – even if you don't need.
Although there are off-the-peg designs available the real challenge comes from applying the laws of physics, understanding meteorology and being inventive. This can be a really educative and creative sport.
And a damaging one. Anarg, who works for the military where he controls pilotless drones for gunners to practise their aim, found his hobby plane going way off course with a stiff wind up its flimsy backside.
It zipped out of the park, crashed into trees alongside a busy road, then tumbled into the traffic. Just as toast always falls with the marmalade side down, so model aircraft hit hard things nose-first where the expensive bits are located.
In other countries governments and clubs exercise rigid controls on radio frequencies and flight paths, but this country is free of such tiresome rules. That makes for greater hazards and more fun. Wags say there are old pilots and bold pilots – but no old, bold pilots. Except among Indonesian aeromodellers.
"Malang is made up of real enthusiasts," Clark said. "These planes are beyond toys. They can reach speeds of up to 100 kph.
"The club in Jakarta meets out at Halim where there's some serious money. They even fly jets and employ boys to run out on the field to pick up the crashes."
But Malang is mainly do-it-yourself, though there's no shortage of revved up little lads who sit in wonder to watch their elders, and supposed betters, stretch elastic bands, twist bits of wire and rip packaging tape with their molars.
The earth-bound airmen swap ideas, trade tips and tell of fruit shops that will let you filch high-density Styrofoam. Although used to stop apples bruising in transit, the lightweight sheets make ideal wings.
Readers who misspent their youth trimming balsawood and getting their mum's best tablecloth sticky with Tarzan's Grip will be happy to know their ancient skills won't be wasted. Tiny two-stroke diesel and glow engines are still used, though giving way to electric motors.
Wrinklies who reckon they haven't had a good day's flying unless they come home sprayed with fuel mixed to a secret formula, ears ringing from the high pitched buzz, fingers bleeding from propeller mishaps, sneer at the innovations.
But this is also about gadgets and progress. If the Wright brothers had been happy with their prototype we wouldn't now be Boeing our way around the globe.
"About five years ago there was a significant shift in the technology," said Clark. "More powerful lightweight batteries came on the market, along with miniaturized electronic equipment.
"In the past the transmitter would allow only one or two on-off functions. Now you can refine controls of the rudder, elevators, engine speed and ailerons. Some models also let you raise the undercarriage after take-off."
Though not at MR AC. Although one fellow has a big flash helicopter, the 30 odd members - some have up to ten planes - aren't too fussed about appearances. The most spectacular flier, a gaudy biplane with a two-dimensional fuselage, looks like something kicked aside by rubbish bin scavengers.
But in the air, piloted by its designer Sang Ajim the ugly swan transformed into a swallow. It could turn, roll, hover (if the headwind speed is right), flip, fly vertically and upside-down, duck and dive – giving spectacular displays that would rival any air-force show.
The kids loved it all. Even the little ones.
(First published in The Sunday Post 10 June 07)
##
">Link
The difference between men and boys is the size of their toys.
The old proverb holds good most Sundays at a recreation park in Malang, East Java, when a crew of alleged adults get together to realize their fantasies.
They're bankers, businessmen (the women, emulating air hostesses, tend to supply food and drink), oil industry executives and just about anyone who had their childhood dreams of freedom in the skies grounded.
"At primary school I always wanted to fly planes – the commercial variety," said Budi Santoso, organizer of the Malang Raya Aeromodelling Club (scaled down to MR AC). "But I didn't choose that path; instead I became an engineer.
"There are four kids in my family, though we only have three children. Am I a frustrated pilot? Yes, I think so!"
They may never get to wrap their palms round the throttles of an Airbus but they'll handle most things short of wearing a peaked cap and calming a cabin full of nervous souls by articulating with authority the sentence of assurance: 'This is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard'.
In fact the wannabe aviators can do more; how many A 320 jockeys have designed and built the aircraft they fly?
Australian aid administrator Barry Clark has been playing (woops! – carrying out aerodynamic experiments) with model aircraft for more than 40 years. He's made his own in the past but the pride of his current fleet is a big yellow craft he bought ARTF (almost ready to fly) in Jakarta. This means it took him only four hours to assemble.
There are few local suppliers outside the capital so members have to rely on friends who travel regularly, particularly to Singapore and Australia where the hobby is big business. Vietnam is now producing some excellent models for those without either the patience to build or tolerant partners.
("Wait a moment, darling; I'll come to bed just as soon as I've fiddled this flap. I've got a drag and yaw problem.")
An expensive pastime? Not if you go for tethered round-the-pole planes controlled by two hand-held cables, according to Budi who makes many of his own parts.
For the free radio-controlled craft the cost depends on what you want, how digitally smart you are (fingers and electronics), and your knowledge of flight science. Set aside Rp 1 million rupiah (US $112) for a basic body, double that for the engine and controls, triple it for the transmitter and toss in another million or so for other gizmos you're bound to want – even if you don't need.
Although there are off-the-peg designs available the real challenge comes from applying the laws of physics, understanding meteorology and being inventive. This can be a really educative and creative sport.
And a damaging one. Anarg, who works for the military where he controls pilotless drones for gunners to practise their aim, found his hobby plane going way off course with a stiff wind up its flimsy backside.
It zipped out of the park, crashed into trees alongside a busy road, then tumbled into the traffic. Just as toast always falls with the marmalade side down, so model aircraft hit hard things nose-first where the expensive bits are located.
In other countries governments and clubs exercise rigid controls on radio frequencies and flight paths, but this country is free of such tiresome rules. That makes for greater hazards and more fun. Wags say there are old pilots and bold pilots – but no old, bold pilots. Except among Indonesian aeromodellers.
"Malang is made up of real enthusiasts," Clark said. "These planes are beyond toys. They can reach speeds of up to 100 kph.
"The club in Jakarta meets out at Halim where there's some serious money. They even fly jets and employ boys to run out on the field to pick up the crashes."
But Malang is mainly do-it-yourself, though there's no shortage of revved up little lads who sit in wonder to watch their elders, and supposed betters, stretch elastic bands, twist bits of wire and rip packaging tape with their molars.
The earth-bound airmen swap ideas, trade tips and tell of fruit shops that will let you filch high-density Styrofoam. Although used to stop apples bruising in transit, the lightweight sheets make ideal wings.
Readers who misspent their youth trimming balsawood and getting their mum's best tablecloth sticky with Tarzan's Grip will be happy to know their ancient skills won't be wasted. Tiny two-stroke diesel and glow engines are still used, though giving way to electric motors.
Wrinklies who reckon they haven't had a good day's flying unless they come home sprayed with fuel mixed to a secret formula, ears ringing from the high pitched buzz, fingers bleeding from propeller mishaps, sneer at the innovations.
But this is also about gadgets and progress. If the Wright brothers had been happy with their prototype we wouldn't now be Boeing our way around the globe.
"About five years ago there was a significant shift in the technology," said Clark. "More powerful lightweight batteries came on the market, along with miniaturized electronic equipment.
"In the past the transmitter would allow only one or two on-off functions. Now you can refine controls of the rudder, elevators, engine speed and ailerons. Some models also let you raise the undercarriage after take-off."
Though not at MR AC. Although one fellow has a big flash helicopter, the 30 odd members - some have up to ten planes - aren't too fussed about appearances. The most spectacular flier, a gaudy biplane with a two-dimensional fuselage, looks like something kicked aside by rubbish bin scavengers.
But in the air, piloted by its designer Sang Ajim the ugly swan transformed into a swallow. It could turn, roll, hover (if the headwind speed is right), flip, fly vertically and upside-down, duck and dive – giving spectacular displays that would rival any air-force show.
The kids loved it all. Even the little ones.
(First published in The Sunday Post 10 June 07)
##
">Link
Monday, April 02, 2007
PEPINO FRUIT IN BATU
GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY, MY LITTLE PEPINO © Duncan Graham 2007
Never judge a person or a plant by their name. The same goes for their relatives.
If you have such prejudices it's unlikely you'd encounter petite Pepino because some members of her family (with a name like Pepino she has to be female), sound a mite distasteful.
There's Cannibal's Tomato, Fruta-de-Lobo (which translates as Fruit of Wolves and is doubtless a howling success among canines), and Ashwagandha. This, as we all know, is Sanskrit for Horse's Smell
However not all the Solanaceae cousins are sour and malodorous: Nipple Fruit should be tasty indeed, and I have to report Pepino is well worth a suck, more like a melon with substance and style, squishy but not so watery.
She may also be just the fruit they're looking for in Batu, East Java where an innovative farmer thinks he may have found a sleeping princess to waken the local economy.
As a loyal reader of the Java Brew pages you may recall a story last December that told of the demise of apple growing in Batu.
Apples have been the icon industry of the hill town 20 kilometers outside Malang for more than 70 years. No longer. The old high-maintenance Dutch-planted varieties are now considered too tough for modern tastes, and Chinese imports are undercutting the local market.
So farmers like Suroto, 45, have been bulldozing their trees and looking for alternative crops. Many have gone into the flower trade, selling exotics for suburban gardens and blooms to florists – but they really want something edible to replace apples.
"Competition is acute and we need to diversify," Suroto said. "I bought Euphorbia (also known as Spurge and Poinsettia) from Thailand, but these flowers are now popular and being widely grown.
"So I did some research on the Internet and found the South American fruit Pepino. (See sidebar).
"On a trip to Bogor (in West Java) to look at the horticultural industry I got some seeds. These have taken well though it's better propagated from cuttings.
"I hope that we can now get a new product onto the market."
Suroto has about 2,000 plants growing in plastic sleeves. Although only four months old they're already producing. Together with some colleagues he's trying to get other farmers to take an interest.
He said they'd had no help from the Department of Agriculture. "We're waiting to see what happens," said an officer. "Later we may get involved."
"Farmers are notoriously conservative, but not all of us sit around when there are downturns in horticulture, waiting for something to fall from heaven," Suroto said.
"I was attracted to Pepino because of its medicinal properties. I know the markets today are looking for safe and healthy food, preferably organic, so we have to follow the trends.
"The people of Batu are self-reliant. We're always thinking of how we can improve. This is an ideal location for Pepino."
Maybe – it's also a top spot for apples and with good management can yield two crops a year. But farmers' failure to upgrade with new varieties and market the product properly has led to its demise. Climate, soil and green fingers aren't enough – packaging and promotion are also critical in the fickle fruit industry.
The current retail price for Pepinos puts them on a par with the local Manalagi apples – about Rp 15,000 (US $1.60) a kilo. Although the bushes are hardy, the fruit is delicate and doesn't travel well. It's unlikely to become an export product unless great care is taken with sorting and packing.
The way that crops are grown in Batu is extraordinary and has created a fascinating environment that delights. Houses have been built close together on slopes and the town is more like a big kampong than an East Java village.
Batu is about 600 metres above sea level and it's wise to always have a brolly handy.
It seems that if you aren't growing something exotic, you're not a native. There are so many pot plants on the ground, squatting on racks, hanging from metal and bamboo frames that every square centimeter is covered in color.
The boom in blooms has led many to use footpaths and kerbsides to propagate. Banners promoting tobacco pollute streetscapes elsewhere in Indonesia. Batu is one great nursery and has no need to advertise toxins.
Backyard plots are only a few square meters but often hold 20 or more different varieties. There's little free room. City shops selling fragile goods often carry signs: If you break, you buy. Should Batu continue to carpet the concrete with green there'll soon be a need for a similar warning: Trample pots – and pay.
"We have to promote tourism here, and I hope that Pepino will add to the attractions," said Suroto. "I want Batu to become world famous not just for its flowers, but also its fruits.
"I think we can make this a new Garden of Eden."
(Sidebar)
A FRUIT FOR ALL SEASONS AND REASONS
Pepino, also known as Melon Pear, is an evergreen native of the South American Andes. It's cultivated in Chile, Columbia and Peru but little known elsewhere.
It's a bush and grows up to a meter or more, fruiting all year round. The little flowers are a pretty purple. Frosts (not an issue in Batu) can be a problem, along with aphids. Some texts claim it looks like a tomato vine, but that takes imagination.
Farmers in Western Australia and New Zealand have been experimenting with commercial crops, but so far the plantings in Batu appear to be the only substantial ones in Indonesia.
The fruit is about the size of a cricket ball, or for heathens, a baseball ball. The skin is yellow when ripe with vertical tiger stripes. It's easy to peel and handle – a palm-size melon.
The tiny pips are in the center, so the disgusting seed-spitting ritual employed by melon-munchers is unnecessary. So is the need to have a towel to catch the drips and sprays provoked when sucking a slice.
All hustlers claim special qualities for any new product on the markets, and it’s the same with the pushers of Pepinos. The fruits are supposed to reduce blood pressure, help the kidneys and prevent stroke. They are certainly high in Vitamin C.
As with all foods with real or imagined medicinal properties, you need to consume a lot to get the benefits. Best to do your own research.
(First published 2 April 07 in The Jakarta Post)
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Never judge a person or a plant by their name. The same goes for their relatives.
If you have such prejudices it's unlikely you'd encounter petite Pepino because some members of her family (with a name like Pepino she has to be female), sound a mite distasteful.
There's Cannibal's Tomato, Fruta-de-Lobo (which translates as Fruit of Wolves and is doubtless a howling success among canines), and Ashwagandha. This, as we all know, is Sanskrit for Horse's Smell
However not all the Solanaceae cousins are sour and malodorous: Nipple Fruit should be tasty indeed, and I have to report Pepino is well worth a suck, more like a melon with substance and style, squishy but not so watery.
She may also be just the fruit they're looking for in Batu, East Java where an innovative farmer thinks he may have found a sleeping princess to waken the local economy.
As a loyal reader of the Java Brew pages you may recall a story last December that told of the demise of apple growing in Batu.
Apples have been the icon industry of the hill town 20 kilometers outside Malang for more than 70 years. No longer. The old high-maintenance Dutch-planted varieties are now considered too tough for modern tastes, and Chinese imports are undercutting the local market.
So farmers like Suroto, 45, have been bulldozing their trees and looking for alternative crops. Many have gone into the flower trade, selling exotics for suburban gardens and blooms to florists – but they really want something edible to replace apples.
"Competition is acute and we need to diversify," Suroto said. "I bought Euphorbia (also known as Spurge and Poinsettia) from Thailand, but these flowers are now popular and being widely grown.
"So I did some research on the Internet and found the South American fruit Pepino. (See sidebar).
"On a trip to Bogor (in West Java) to look at the horticultural industry I got some seeds. These have taken well though it's better propagated from cuttings.
"I hope that we can now get a new product onto the market."
Suroto has about 2,000 plants growing in plastic sleeves. Although only four months old they're already producing. Together with some colleagues he's trying to get other farmers to take an interest.
He said they'd had no help from the Department of Agriculture. "We're waiting to see what happens," said an officer. "Later we may get involved."
"Farmers are notoriously conservative, but not all of us sit around when there are downturns in horticulture, waiting for something to fall from heaven," Suroto said.
"I was attracted to Pepino because of its medicinal properties. I know the markets today are looking for safe and healthy food, preferably organic, so we have to follow the trends.
"The people of Batu are self-reliant. We're always thinking of how we can improve. This is an ideal location for Pepino."
Maybe – it's also a top spot for apples and with good management can yield two crops a year. But farmers' failure to upgrade with new varieties and market the product properly has led to its demise. Climate, soil and green fingers aren't enough – packaging and promotion are also critical in the fickle fruit industry.
The current retail price for Pepinos puts them on a par with the local Manalagi apples – about Rp 15,000 (US $1.60) a kilo. Although the bushes are hardy, the fruit is delicate and doesn't travel well. It's unlikely to become an export product unless great care is taken with sorting and packing.
The way that crops are grown in Batu is extraordinary and has created a fascinating environment that delights. Houses have been built close together on slopes and the town is more like a big kampong than an East Java village.
Batu is about 600 metres above sea level and it's wise to always have a brolly handy.
It seems that if you aren't growing something exotic, you're not a native. There are so many pot plants on the ground, squatting on racks, hanging from metal and bamboo frames that every square centimeter is covered in color.
The boom in blooms has led many to use footpaths and kerbsides to propagate. Banners promoting tobacco pollute streetscapes elsewhere in Indonesia. Batu is one great nursery and has no need to advertise toxins.
Backyard plots are only a few square meters but often hold 20 or more different varieties. There's little free room. City shops selling fragile goods often carry signs: If you break, you buy. Should Batu continue to carpet the concrete with green there'll soon be a need for a similar warning: Trample pots – and pay.
"We have to promote tourism here, and I hope that Pepino will add to the attractions," said Suroto. "I want Batu to become world famous not just for its flowers, but also its fruits.
"I think we can make this a new Garden of Eden."
(Sidebar)
A FRUIT FOR ALL SEASONS AND REASONS
Pepino, also known as Melon Pear, is an evergreen native of the South American Andes. It's cultivated in Chile, Columbia and Peru but little known elsewhere.
It's a bush and grows up to a meter or more, fruiting all year round. The little flowers are a pretty purple. Frosts (not an issue in Batu) can be a problem, along with aphids. Some texts claim it looks like a tomato vine, but that takes imagination.
Farmers in Western Australia and New Zealand have been experimenting with commercial crops, but so far the plantings in Batu appear to be the only substantial ones in Indonesia.
The fruit is about the size of a cricket ball, or for heathens, a baseball ball. The skin is yellow when ripe with vertical tiger stripes. It's easy to peel and handle – a palm-size melon.
The tiny pips are in the center, so the disgusting seed-spitting ritual employed by melon-munchers is unnecessary. So is the need to have a towel to catch the drips and sprays provoked when sucking a slice.
All hustlers claim special qualities for any new product on the markets, and it’s the same with the pushers of Pepinos. The fruits are supposed to reduce blood pressure, help the kidneys and prevent stroke. They are certainly high in Vitamin C.
As with all foods with real or imagined medicinal properties, you need to consume a lot to get the benefits. Best to do your own research.
(First published 2 April 07 in The Jakarta Post)
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">Link
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