SEEKING THE SOUL IN CLAY © Duncan Graham 2006
It’s sticky, slimy and dirty, and at the first encounter, difficult to love. But in the hands of the creative artists of Malang in East Java, drab clay is moulded and fired into beauty worth beholding. Duncan Graham reports:
Mohammed Atim will probably pot on till his worn fingers no longer sense the potential hidden in the clay and waiting for release – when he knows the magic of transmutation has been lost.
Atim, who opened his business more than 25 years ago, was one of the first modern potters to start working in the Malang district of Dinoyo. That sounds impressive, but a quarter century is but a fleck in time in the history of Java. Clay was being worked close by in much the same way during the Majapahit Era, more than 700 years ago, and doubtless long before that.
Atim fires his pots in an open wood fire, as did his ancestors. This has bolstered his business against the fuel price jolts that have made products manufactured using fossil fuels so expensive. Sourcing forest timber is a problem, so he uses old pine packing cases and other waste woods. These tend to be light, full of resin and burn fast, making the process even trickier.
“When I began there was no competition,” he said. “Now there are shops everywhere. The clay around here is difficult to work and can produce pots which break easily, so we use clay from Wendit on the outskirts of Malang.”
Despite being an important thoroughfare for the East Java hill city, Jalan Mayjen Panjaitan where Atim has his shed is a crowded and busy street. It’s made even more cramped by shopkeepers using the narrow pavements as showcases. Or even as workshops.
Many find the sidewalks a handy place to paint, varnish and air-dry their creations – making a stroll hazardous for the clumsy. In other towns you have to watch for the pitfalls – in Dinoyo it’s the potfalls.
Cynics and malevolents might think the top-heavy pots are put outside to ambush passers-by on the principle that you break, you buy.
Should an accident occur you may have a bruised shin but your wallet won’t be lacerated from close encounters with fragile objects. The harga turis (tourist’s price) disease, which infects so many towns, has yet to flare in Dinoyo.
The prices are reasonable and open to bargaining. By Western standards, dirt-cheap. Visitors from outside the archipelago are rare – and so are rip-offs. Almost all customers are locals, or day-trippers from Surabaya.
Making ceramics is believed to have originated in China. In most modern factories the pots are roasted in giant gas-fired or electric-powered kilns. The latest models - which you won’t find in Dinoyo but can be seen elsewhere in Malang factories where Chinese ceramics are made - have computer control systems. These take much of the guesswork out of temperature and time.
But that’s not the situation when using wood. For this you need qualities that can’t be measured. Is the fire too hot – or too cold? Temperature ranges are critical and mistakes made during the firing can mean flawed pots and fractures where there should be smooth surfaces. Selling crumbling ceramics is no way to win return custom.
Atim has been doing the job for so long he knows heat without using a thermometer. He can sense when the baking is complete. That’s experience, and all attempts to get him to describe the details failed – not through secrecy, but because time-tested instincts and feelings are hard to express.
He also knows what buyers want - without employing market researchers. Locals with spacious gardens, lobbies or hallways seek big bountiful and curvaceous feminine pots (Rp 60,000 or US$6.80) to make an entrance statement.
For those with smaller living quarters and less arrogance, multicoloured hanging lanterns sell for only Rp7, 000 (US 80 cents). Although the style is the same each pot has been painted differently.
To make a living Atim and his neighbours have to produce what the market wants, including practical items that are always in demand. Garden furniture is an evergreen.
When times are quiet most craftspeople like to experiment and produce something that expresses their personal tastes. That’s why it’s worth poking around a bit. Hiding behind the racks of best sellers and shrouded by a coat of dust may be something unique overlooked by purchasers with rigid notions about what’s good.
Potters like Wahyudi Wibowo (also known as Yudi), are always pushing the market with new designs. He’s a teacher of the ceramic arts and often displays original work by himself and students.
His colours tend to be more autumnal, closer to the soil than the sometimes-garish decorations of his neighbours’ ceramics. However when he sells out a line is often not repeated, so buyers get only one chance.
Next to Yudi’s shop Tjipto designs, makes and sells original and delicate metal work, including mirrors surrounded by floral designs priced from Rp 350,000 (US$ 37). Westerners who associate welding with heavy industry should watch artisans make filigree. In his cluttered back yard even the scrap looks lovely where flame has been tested on metal.
Moslem craftspeople are forbidden from depicting living creatures so are challenged to create abstracts. Despite this prohibition, frogs flourish in many designs, as do birds.
One couple who joined their lives together for better or worse last January commissioned terracotta discs from Pak Atim to remember the event. They probably – and rightly – recognised that while paper rots and crumbles, burns and fades, clay withstands.
Proof is everywhere. In the nearby town of Trowulan, once the centre of the Majapahit kingdom, is a museum full of relics of the era. Among the practical pots, bottles and bricks are clay figurines of everyday life. Like tiny toys or models, they may have been fashioned in fun to pass the time on a dull day.
These little pinch-pots of housing and people are the only remaining records that show the designs of buildings and the ethnic groups which once lived and worked in central East Java.
It’s not just diamonds that are forever.
(First published in The Jakarta Post 29 September 2006)
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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
Friday, September 29, 2006
KEBUN RAYA
MAN OF THE TREES © Duncan Graham 2006
When Djauhar Asikin took over as director of Purwodadi Botanical Gardens he found it was off-limits to some young children.
Here was East Java’s most prestigious government park, designed to conserve species, conduct research and educate the public. Yet some strict Muslim families had imposed a ban on visits.
For the park also had another proclaimed purpose which Djauhar ranked below the other priorities. However the teenagers disagreed. For them the prime reason for Purwodadi was recreation, which in their minds meant smooching with the opposite sex.
So instead of entering the gardens to view an exotic display of orchids the impressionable kiddies were seeing erotic displays of … Well, you can fill in the dots yourself.
That was two years ago, but the children are now back in thousands. The visitors even include Islamic schools educating their charges about the pilgrimage to Mecca by using mock-ups of the Holy City on the park’s open areas.
“It’s the only large space the teachers could find,” said Djauhar. “We’ve been promoting the gardens and visitor numbers are increasing. Last year we had 150,000. That means privacy for romance is now limited.”
So lovers beware: If your intentions are amorous rather than arboreal steer clear at weekends when crowds are densest. Weekdays? You can always try your luck amongst the creepy-crawlies in the leaf litter, but with 180 staff pruning, potting and planting across the 85 hectares, the chances of a peeping Tom or Tomasina are high.
Purwodadi is one of four government-run botanical gardens, known as Kebun Raya. Bogor is the biggest and most famous. The other two are in Cibodas (West Java) and Eka Karya (Bali) – a recent addition.
The first three were established by the Dutch with Purwodadi created just in time on 30 January 1941. The following year the Japanese were in control and preserving the archipelago’s botany was not on their agenda. The park was used to grow plants that could produce oil for the invader’s war machine.
After Independence the park’s original purpose was revived and Purwodadi now specialises in dry area species. At 300 metres above sea level it’s classified as lowland, and with five or six rainless months it’s grand for hardy plants.
The collection of 15,000 specimens covers almost 4,000 species. Not all are from Indonesia. There’s a prickly Mexican section with cacti. Although trees dominate there’s also a wide range of bamboos and bananas.
Djauhar took a masters degree in horticulture at Reading University in England. His previous job was head of planning at Bogor. He conducted The Jakarta Post on a two-hour stroll of his rolling tree-clad spread, with deciduous and evergreens – quite unlike the manicured geometry of lush Bogor.
What are your roots?
I was born in Malang where my father was a civil engineer. I didn’t like the harshness of that profession. I preferred nature and loved gardening, so I became a horticulturalist.
When I came back here from Bogor I was surprised how few knew about the park, even though it’s on the main road between Surabaya and Malang. I suppose that’s because people are racing to their destination and don’t notice us.
I think that with more visitors we’ll get more money to better pay the staff and improve facilities, like toilets.
Purwodadi is great value compared to other recreation places, like tea plantations and safari parks. Our entrance fees are only Rp 3,500 (US 40 cents) and on weekdays you can bring your car and drive around for an extra Rp 6,500 (US 70 cents). To celebrate our 30 January birthday I made entrance free and we had about 20,000 visitors.
Never again! The rubbish was everywhere. Maybe our one-day limit is about 10,000.
Why do people litter such a beautiful place?
It worries me. If there are three classes, the rich, the middle and the poor it’s the latter that usually don’t care about the environment. Their priorities are surviving from day to day.
So lifting the nation’s economy and with it education is important. Our employees are constantly reminding visitors to use the bins.
Do you see any changes in public attitudes?
Yes, there’s better understanding of the need for conservation. I think recent landslips in East Java, which have caused dreadful damage and loss of life, have made people realise the need to plant and preserve trees.
We have the capability to produce thousands of seedlings for reforestation, but usually not the species that people want. When we’ve planted mahogany the trees have been cut for firewood.
We need fast growing species that don’t produce good burning timber. We need the public’s cooperation.
Has the park been changed since the Dutch era?
We’ve altered some of the layout but the broad avenue leading from the entrance to the Bougainvillea is as originally planned. We’ve built new houses for orchids and the plants we collect from the wild every year in field trips to Kalimantan.
An area near the river has been allowed to return to its natural state. There’s now access from the park along a footbridge across the river to a 300-hectare forest next door.
We’re doing research on the medical benefits of some plants.
Sadly there’s not much East Javanese culture to be found here – unlike the gardens in Bali.
What’s your main ambition?
To get more and more people to enjoy Purwodadi and appreciate the environment. The potential is huge. Unlike Bogor we don’t get travel agents organising tour groups, and very few foreigners – maybe only 100 a year.
Promotion isn’t easy. We have a budget of Rp 500 million (US $55,000) a year – Bogor has Rp 5 billion (US $550,000)
For 11 years in Bogor I was in the office with computers and meetings. I had to use my mind. Here I can use my heart. No more headaches! Here I can get out and do my own thing – which is to make the gardens better and better.
I really don’t like to be called ‘director’ because that puts me apart from the staff. This is my job – and my hobby. I love it.
(Purwodadi is open daily from 8 am to 4 pm. It’s on the east side of the main highway from Surabaya to Malang, and 65 kilometres south of Surabaya.)
(First published in The Jakarta Post 29 September 2006)
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When Djauhar Asikin took over as director of Purwodadi Botanical Gardens he found it was off-limits to some young children.
Here was East Java’s most prestigious government park, designed to conserve species, conduct research and educate the public. Yet some strict Muslim families had imposed a ban on visits.
For the park also had another proclaimed purpose which Djauhar ranked below the other priorities. However the teenagers disagreed. For them the prime reason for Purwodadi was recreation, which in their minds meant smooching with the opposite sex.
So instead of entering the gardens to view an exotic display of orchids the impressionable kiddies were seeing erotic displays of … Well, you can fill in the dots yourself.
That was two years ago, but the children are now back in thousands. The visitors even include Islamic schools educating their charges about the pilgrimage to Mecca by using mock-ups of the Holy City on the park’s open areas.
“It’s the only large space the teachers could find,” said Djauhar. “We’ve been promoting the gardens and visitor numbers are increasing. Last year we had 150,000. That means privacy for romance is now limited.”
So lovers beware: If your intentions are amorous rather than arboreal steer clear at weekends when crowds are densest. Weekdays? You can always try your luck amongst the creepy-crawlies in the leaf litter, but with 180 staff pruning, potting and planting across the 85 hectares, the chances of a peeping Tom or Tomasina are high.
Purwodadi is one of four government-run botanical gardens, known as Kebun Raya. Bogor is the biggest and most famous. The other two are in Cibodas (West Java) and Eka Karya (Bali) – a recent addition.
The first three were established by the Dutch with Purwodadi created just in time on 30 January 1941. The following year the Japanese were in control and preserving the archipelago’s botany was not on their agenda. The park was used to grow plants that could produce oil for the invader’s war machine.
After Independence the park’s original purpose was revived and Purwodadi now specialises in dry area species. At 300 metres above sea level it’s classified as lowland, and with five or six rainless months it’s grand for hardy plants.
The collection of 15,000 specimens covers almost 4,000 species. Not all are from Indonesia. There’s a prickly Mexican section with cacti. Although trees dominate there’s also a wide range of bamboos and bananas.
Djauhar took a masters degree in horticulture at Reading University in England. His previous job was head of planning at Bogor. He conducted The Jakarta Post on a two-hour stroll of his rolling tree-clad spread, with deciduous and evergreens – quite unlike the manicured geometry of lush Bogor.
What are your roots?
I was born in Malang where my father was a civil engineer. I didn’t like the harshness of that profession. I preferred nature and loved gardening, so I became a horticulturalist.
When I came back here from Bogor I was surprised how few knew about the park, even though it’s on the main road between Surabaya and Malang. I suppose that’s because people are racing to their destination and don’t notice us.
I think that with more visitors we’ll get more money to better pay the staff and improve facilities, like toilets.
Purwodadi is great value compared to other recreation places, like tea plantations and safari parks. Our entrance fees are only Rp 3,500 (US 40 cents) and on weekdays you can bring your car and drive around for an extra Rp 6,500 (US 70 cents). To celebrate our 30 January birthday I made entrance free and we had about 20,000 visitors.
Never again! The rubbish was everywhere. Maybe our one-day limit is about 10,000.
Why do people litter such a beautiful place?
It worries me. If there are three classes, the rich, the middle and the poor it’s the latter that usually don’t care about the environment. Their priorities are surviving from day to day.
So lifting the nation’s economy and with it education is important. Our employees are constantly reminding visitors to use the bins.
Do you see any changes in public attitudes?
Yes, there’s better understanding of the need for conservation. I think recent landslips in East Java, which have caused dreadful damage and loss of life, have made people realise the need to plant and preserve trees.
We have the capability to produce thousands of seedlings for reforestation, but usually not the species that people want. When we’ve planted mahogany the trees have been cut for firewood.
We need fast growing species that don’t produce good burning timber. We need the public’s cooperation.
Has the park been changed since the Dutch era?
We’ve altered some of the layout but the broad avenue leading from the entrance to the Bougainvillea is as originally planned. We’ve built new houses for orchids and the plants we collect from the wild every year in field trips to Kalimantan.
An area near the river has been allowed to return to its natural state. There’s now access from the park along a footbridge across the river to a 300-hectare forest next door.
We’re doing research on the medical benefits of some plants.
Sadly there’s not much East Javanese culture to be found here – unlike the gardens in Bali.
What’s your main ambition?
To get more and more people to enjoy Purwodadi and appreciate the environment. The potential is huge. Unlike Bogor we don’t get travel agents organising tour groups, and very few foreigners – maybe only 100 a year.
Promotion isn’t easy. We have a budget of Rp 500 million (US $55,000) a year – Bogor has Rp 5 billion (US $550,000)
For 11 years in Bogor I was in the office with computers and meetings. I had to use my mind. Here I can use my heart. No more headaches! Here I can get out and do my own thing – which is to make the gardens better and better.
I really don’t like to be called ‘director’ because that puts me apart from the staff. This is my job – and my hobby. I love it.
(Purwodadi is open daily from 8 am to 4 pm. It’s on the east side of the main highway from Surabaya to Malang, and 65 kilometres south of Surabaya.)
(First published in The Jakarta Post 29 September 2006)
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Wednesday, September 27, 2006
AIDS IN INDONESIA
ANCIENT APPROACHES TO NEW PERILS © Duncan Graham 2006
You have to watch your language in the lexicon of the deadly disease AIDS. ‘Cure’ is out, along with ‘solution’, ‘antidote’ and ‘remedy’.
Instead try ‘treatment’ and ‘therapy’. For as yet there’s no vaccine to prevent the scourge and no drug that will return the patient to full health.
In direct language – AIDS is a death sentence.
Offsetting that bleak diagnosis are medicines that can hamper the progress of the disease. They’re known as antiretrovirals, or ARV. They come from the laboratories of Western science, require heavy use and can have some nasty side effects on the skin, joints and stomach. They’re also expensive.
Is there anything else? Traditional therapists think they may have some helpful suggestions, and they’ve just been sharing their ideas at the 8th ASEAN Congress of Traditional Chinese Medicine in Surabaya.
One of the organisers, acupuncturist Putu Oka Sukanta said complementary alternative medicines (CAM) could help the body fight the disease and soften the downsides of the conventional drugs.
However they were not a substitute. Patients with AIDS should continue taking their prescribed medication.
It’s believed that only in Indonesia are hospital doctors using conventional medicines along with traditional therapies. These include acupuncture, acupressure, nutritional supplements, massage, breathing exercises and meditation.
“CAM tries to balance the yin and yang in the body through an holistic approach so the body can retain its natural functions,” Sukanta said.
“The problem is that AIDS is a political disease. By that I mean it involves human rights, religion, discrimination and the right to treatment.
“Part of our job is to empower AIDS patients to they can exercise their rights and obligations, and help them lead productive and fulfilling lives in society.”
There’s no let up in the warnings and predictions of awful times ahead unless heavy-duty measures against the disease are taken now. Activists use the term ‘epidemic’. At this stage that seems hard to justify as the official numbers of people suffering are miniscule when measured against the population, and put alongside an estimated 500,000 deaths annually from tobacco use.
Sukanta said the main hot spots are Papua where the disease has been spread through heterosexual contact amongst tribespeople, the big cities where intravenous drug users operate, and the sex industry where prostitutes with HIV pass the disease to their clients who then infect their wives. Once in the family HIV can get into the children and the wider community.
“There’s been a lot of ignorance about AIDS,” said Sukanta who has been working since 1997 with patients who have the disease. “At first there was denial that it could occur in a religious country like Indonesia.
“It was seen as God’s damnation and a Western affliction. Now things are changing. Government policy is getting better. (See Sidebar).
“Some Muslim teachers and women in jilbab (Islamic headscarves) have become infected, so religious leaders have had to face the facts and widen their horizons.”
Getting an accurate count is impossible in a country where many people don’t consult doctors, while those who do may be misdiagnosed. Post mortems don’t always follow unexplained deaths. But somewhere between 90,000 and 130,000 Indonesians are officially believed to be living with HIV.
Activists say these are just the obvious early shoots above an enormous underground root structure of undiagnosed sufferers, with an estimate of four million druggies nationwide. Not all inject, but those who do are taking terrible risks if they don’t use clean needles. Around 50 per cent of new HIV cases are mainliners.
The worst-case scenario has around 300,000 dying of the disease by 2025.
HIV (Human Immunodeficiency Virus) damages the body’s immune system and lets in AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.) You can only get it only through the transfer of body fluids – usually by sharing syringe needles or having unprotected sex with an infected person.
It was first identified in 1981 and since then an estimated 25 million people have died of AIDS, most in Africa.
AVOIDING SOCIAL UNREST
In a bid to halt the disease some countries are running high profile campaigns. These include frank sex education in schools, condom use promotion and needle exchange programs for intravenous drug users.
In Indonesia these are all contentious, so a prime role is educating lawmakers, educators and religious leaders of the dangers of AIDS and the need for action.
A few weeks ago Presidential Regulation 75 (2006) came into force, restructuring the National AIDS Commission. (NAC) Its predecessor was the National AIDS Control Commission. Note the significance of the change.
Part of its task is to disseminate accurate information “in such a way as not to result in social unrest”. The wording is a good indicator of the continuing sensitivity.
Australian psychologist Dr Jane Wilson, the country coordinator for the Joint United Nations Program on HIV / AIDS, believes the new authority is a major move forward.
“The estimates of Indonesians with AIDS were first made in 2002. They’ll be updated this year,” she said.
“The NAC is a serious bid to do something constructive. It’s very genuine and includes representatives of the community, non-government organisations and people who’ve tested positive with HIV / AIDS.
“I’m not sceptical at all. The people involved are committed and know what’s happening. So does the Coordinating Minister for People’s Welfare, Aburizal Bakrie. We’ve never had leadership like this.
“There’s a growing awareness of AIDS. It doesn’t just involve fringe groups. Housewives are now getting infected. Up to 100 referral hospitals (hospitals which have ARV drugs and special training) are now taking HIV/AIDS patients.
“However only 3,500 people – that’s less than two per cent of suspected cases - are actually getting ARV drugs.
“Traditional therapists are often the first contact that sick people make with any health care provider.
“Antiretrovirals are very effective, but they’re a life-long treatment. I’ve had friends die from AIDS, so anything like traditional Chinese medicine and therapies, along with prayers, which might improve the quality of life and ease suffering, has to be welcomed.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 27 September 06)
">Link
You have to watch your language in the lexicon of the deadly disease AIDS. ‘Cure’ is out, along with ‘solution’, ‘antidote’ and ‘remedy’.
Instead try ‘treatment’ and ‘therapy’. For as yet there’s no vaccine to prevent the scourge and no drug that will return the patient to full health.
In direct language – AIDS is a death sentence.
Offsetting that bleak diagnosis are medicines that can hamper the progress of the disease. They’re known as antiretrovirals, or ARV. They come from the laboratories of Western science, require heavy use and can have some nasty side effects on the skin, joints and stomach. They’re also expensive.
Is there anything else? Traditional therapists think they may have some helpful suggestions, and they’ve just been sharing their ideas at the 8th ASEAN Congress of Traditional Chinese Medicine in Surabaya.
One of the organisers, acupuncturist Putu Oka Sukanta said complementary alternative medicines (CAM) could help the body fight the disease and soften the downsides of the conventional drugs.
However they were not a substitute. Patients with AIDS should continue taking their prescribed medication.
It’s believed that only in Indonesia are hospital doctors using conventional medicines along with traditional therapies. These include acupuncture, acupressure, nutritional supplements, massage, breathing exercises and meditation.
“CAM tries to balance the yin and yang in the body through an holistic approach so the body can retain its natural functions,” Sukanta said.
“The problem is that AIDS is a political disease. By that I mean it involves human rights, religion, discrimination and the right to treatment.
“Part of our job is to empower AIDS patients to they can exercise their rights and obligations, and help them lead productive and fulfilling lives in society.”
There’s no let up in the warnings and predictions of awful times ahead unless heavy-duty measures against the disease are taken now. Activists use the term ‘epidemic’. At this stage that seems hard to justify as the official numbers of people suffering are miniscule when measured against the population, and put alongside an estimated 500,000 deaths annually from tobacco use.
Sukanta said the main hot spots are Papua where the disease has been spread through heterosexual contact amongst tribespeople, the big cities where intravenous drug users operate, and the sex industry where prostitutes with HIV pass the disease to their clients who then infect their wives. Once in the family HIV can get into the children and the wider community.
“There’s been a lot of ignorance about AIDS,” said Sukanta who has been working since 1997 with patients who have the disease. “At first there was denial that it could occur in a religious country like Indonesia.
“It was seen as God’s damnation and a Western affliction. Now things are changing. Government policy is getting better. (See Sidebar).
“Some Muslim teachers and women in jilbab (Islamic headscarves) have become infected, so religious leaders have had to face the facts and widen their horizons.”
Getting an accurate count is impossible in a country where many people don’t consult doctors, while those who do may be misdiagnosed. Post mortems don’t always follow unexplained deaths. But somewhere between 90,000 and 130,000 Indonesians are officially believed to be living with HIV.
Activists say these are just the obvious early shoots above an enormous underground root structure of undiagnosed sufferers, with an estimate of four million druggies nationwide. Not all inject, but those who do are taking terrible risks if they don’t use clean needles. Around 50 per cent of new HIV cases are mainliners.
The worst-case scenario has around 300,000 dying of the disease by 2025.
HIV (Human Immunodeficiency Virus) damages the body’s immune system and lets in AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.) You can only get it only through the transfer of body fluids – usually by sharing syringe needles or having unprotected sex with an infected person.
It was first identified in 1981 and since then an estimated 25 million people have died of AIDS, most in Africa.
AVOIDING SOCIAL UNREST
In a bid to halt the disease some countries are running high profile campaigns. These include frank sex education in schools, condom use promotion and needle exchange programs for intravenous drug users.
In Indonesia these are all contentious, so a prime role is educating lawmakers, educators and religious leaders of the dangers of AIDS and the need for action.
A few weeks ago Presidential Regulation 75 (2006) came into force, restructuring the National AIDS Commission. (NAC) Its predecessor was the National AIDS Control Commission. Note the significance of the change.
Part of its task is to disseminate accurate information “in such a way as not to result in social unrest”. The wording is a good indicator of the continuing sensitivity.
Australian psychologist Dr Jane Wilson, the country coordinator for the Joint United Nations Program on HIV / AIDS, believes the new authority is a major move forward.
“The estimates of Indonesians with AIDS were first made in 2002. They’ll be updated this year,” she said.
“The NAC is a serious bid to do something constructive. It’s very genuine and includes representatives of the community, non-government organisations and people who’ve tested positive with HIV / AIDS.
“I’m not sceptical at all. The people involved are committed and know what’s happening. So does the Coordinating Minister for People’s Welfare, Aburizal Bakrie. We’ve never had leadership like this.
“There’s a growing awareness of AIDS. It doesn’t just involve fringe groups. Housewives are now getting infected. Up to 100 referral hospitals (hospitals which have ARV drugs and special training) are now taking HIV/AIDS patients.
“However only 3,500 people – that’s less than two per cent of suspected cases - are actually getting ARV drugs.
“Traditional therapists are often the first contact that sick people make with any health care provider.
“Antiretrovirals are very effective, but they’re a life-long treatment. I’ve had friends die from AIDS, so anything like traditional Chinese medicine and therapies, along with prayers, which might improve the quality of life and ease suffering, has to be welcomed.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 27 September 06)
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Monday, September 25, 2006
LISA SETIAWATI
JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED © Duncan Graham 2006
After spending seven hours in a Malang hospital’s emergency unit, what’s a medico got to do to wind down?
If you’re Dr Lisa Setiawati then you open a business and see only the sweet and smooth things in life, not the gore and shattered limbs of the daily routine.
And while she gets a steady stream of broken bodies into the hospital needing repair – usually the result of motorbike accidents and fighting - customers to her ice cream parlours have blossomed and her enterprise thrived. She’s now negotiating to franchise her concept into Jakarta, Bali and Surabaya.
Four years ago she decided to sell her commercial laundry and use the profits to sell ice cream. She’d been a pioneer in the Laundromat business, but other operators soon arrived and profit margins tumbled.
On a brief visit to New Zealand she’d sampled the vast varieties and rich flavors of that country’s dairy produce, with ice cream a major on the national menu.
Although Indonesians like ice cream it’s an up-market extra usually enjoyed as a sit-down snack. In the West it’s a recreation food often eaten in the street and on the run – a practice considered impolite in the archipelago.
“Cooking had always been my hobby, even though in my childhood as the only daughter I was banned from the kitchen,” Dr Setiawati said.
“I considered opening a restaurant, but my research showed that the clientele tended to be static. People also go to eat quickly, then leave, rather than sit around and talk.
“Malang (in central East Java) is a university town, constantly refreshed by new intakes of students. I thought an ice-cream café would be an ideal place where they could sit around and chat.
“It’s also a food that’s not exclusive to any one age or ethnic group”
She chose a shop in Jalan Galunggung, a street within easy range of almost 20 campuses, and the decision was right. A second shop has been opened on a by-pass and this, she said, has also done well. The name Confetti was chosen because it’s associated with celebrations and happy times.
At first she bought ice cream from a factory at Probolingo on the north coast of East Java, but transport difficulties created too many problems. She had already researched the manufacture of ice cream and knew the ingredients and mechanical requirements.
She understood the need for close attention to detail, the importance of the right serving temperature (5 degrees C), the need to get the texture correct so the product scooped easily while staying firm. A slight sheen also helped presentation, particularly when garnished with fruits.
So Dr Setiawati took another business leap. She bought a machine, ordered fresh milk from the nearby hill town of Batu, and set up a factory. She now employs 35 staff making or selling her products. Throughout she keeps a close watch on the manufacture and health standards.
Every three months she writes a new menu of her latest ideas – adding flavors like green tea and durian along with the standards like chocolate and vanilla. One product has been designed for diabetics. Each new concoction is heavily promoted through the print media to keep public interest high.
The décor, crockery and furniture in her cafes have also been her selection. Throughout her ambition has been to create an atmosphere where customers will take it easy - and keep ordering.
“I’ve never formally studied management or business,” Dr Setiawati, 35, said. “Nor do I want to – I’ve had to do enough study to become a doctor. I believe in the principle of learning-by-doing. Having an MBA is no guarantee of success.
“It’s important to be observant and to understand all the processes of business. Many people make the mistake of trying to please themselves, like selling the sort of clothes they prefer – without considering the customer.
“You have to be interested in the product and know the processes. But at all times you must keep an eye on the profit.”
Unlike many small business proprietors she’s not constantly in her factory or shops, believing that bosses who do that show distrust in their employees.
She holds a monthly meeting with her staff who are encouraged to air their grievances and talk through problems. These get-togethers were also used to evaluate the business. She said her management style was being aware of detail, listening and communicating – skills which come from her profession.
Dr Setiawati said she has no intention of quitting her hospital work because she enjoys the challenges that come from the great variety of cases that rush into the emergency unit.
She also put her talents to work as a volunteer after the Yogya earthquake where most injuries were similar to those met in the emergency ward – lacerations, fractured skulls and bones.
“I work seven hours a day, four days a week, in the hospital where I’ve been for seven years,” she said. “I don’t have a private practice so can concentrate on Confetti after hours. If the franchise negotiations are successful the shops will have to sell my ice cream, but will be free to market their own snacks.
“Infrastructure is a big problem in Indonesia. I send ice cream to Bali packed in insulation and using busses. It’s cheap and so far successful, but for other deliveries I’ll have to buy a refrigerated van.
“I’ve seldom had problems with people taking me seriously. Maybe that’s because I’m a doctor and people trust me. It might be different if I was a housewife.
“I recommend any woman or man who’s interested in business to go ahead – you’ll never know if you never try. You can’t just stay alone in the house. Motivation is very important. So is creative energy.
“Try something new. Don’t be afraid. Get out of your routine. I never wanted to be in a situation where I was dependent on others.
“I want to stay calm, to not get headaches. I pray to God. I want to do my best and not hurt anyone. I see a lot of pain and problems in my hospital job, but we should respect life and never forget to count our blessings.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 25 September 2006)
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After spending seven hours in a Malang hospital’s emergency unit, what’s a medico got to do to wind down?
If you’re Dr Lisa Setiawati then you open a business and see only the sweet and smooth things in life, not the gore and shattered limbs of the daily routine.
And while she gets a steady stream of broken bodies into the hospital needing repair – usually the result of motorbike accidents and fighting - customers to her ice cream parlours have blossomed and her enterprise thrived. She’s now negotiating to franchise her concept into Jakarta, Bali and Surabaya.
Four years ago she decided to sell her commercial laundry and use the profits to sell ice cream. She’d been a pioneer in the Laundromat business, but other operators soon arrived and profit margins tumbled.
On a brief visit to New Zealand she’d sampled the vast varieties and rich flavors of that country’s dairy produce, with ice cream a major on the national menu.
Although Indonesians like ice cream it’s an up-market extra usually enjoyed as a sit-down snack. In the West it’s a recreation food often eaten in the street and on the run – a practice considered impolite in the archipelago.
“Cooking had always been my hobby, even though in my childhood as the only daughter I was banned from the kitchen,” Dr Setiawati said.
“I considered opening a restaurant, but my research showed that the clientele tended to be static. People also go to eat quickly, then leave, rather than sit around and talk.
“Malang (in central East Java) is a university town, constantly refreshed by new intakes of students. I thought an ice-cream café would be an ideal place where they could sit around and chat.
“It’s also a food that’s not exclusive to any one age or ethnic group”
She chose a shop in Jalan Galunggung, a street within easy range of almost 20 campuses, and the decision was right. A second shop has been opened on a by-pass and this, she said, has also done well. The name Confetti was chosen because it’s associated with celebrations and happy times.
At first she bought ice cream from a factory at Probolingo on the north coast of East Java, but transport difficulties created too many problems. She had already researched the manufacture of ice cream and knew the ingredients and mechanical requirements.
She understood the need for close attention to detail, the importance of the right serving temperature (5 degrees C), the need to get the texture correct so the product scooped easily while staying firm. A slight sheen also helped presentation, particularly when garnished with fruits.
So Dr Setiawati took another business leap. She bought a machine, ordered fresh milk from the nearby hill town of Batu, and set up a factory. She now employs 35 staff making or selling her products. Throughout she keeps a close watch on the manufacture and health standards.
Every three months she writes a new menu of her latest ideas – adding flavors like green tea and durian along with the standards like chocolate and vanilla. One product has been designed for diabetics. Each new concoction is heavily promoted through the print media to keep public interest high.
The décor, crockery and furniture in her cafes have also been her selection. Throughout her ambition has been to create an atmosphere where customers will take it easy - and keep ordering.
“I’ve never formally studied management or business,” Dr Setiawati, 35, said. “Nor do I want to – I’ve had to do enough study to become a doctor. I believe in the principle of learning-by-doing. Having an MBA is no guarantee of success.
“It’s important to be observant and to understand all the processes of business. Many people make the mistake of trying to please themselves, like selling the sort of clothes they prefer – without considering the customer.
“You have to be interested in the product and know the processes. But at all times you must keep an eye on the profit.”
Unlike many small business proprietors she’s not constantly in her factory or shops, believing that bosses who do that show distrust in their employees.
She holds a monthly meeting with her staff who are encouraged to air their grievances and talk through problems. These get-togethers were also used to evaluate the business. She said her management style was being aware of detail, listening and communicating – skills which come from her profession.
Dr Setiawati said she has no intention of quitting her hospital work because she enjoys the challenges that come from the great variety of cases that rush into the emergency unit.
She also put her talents to work as a volunteer after the Yogya earthquake where most injuries were similar to those met in the emergency ward – lacerations, fractured skulls and bones.
“I work seven hours a day, four days a week, in the hospital where I’ve been for seven years,” she said. “I don’t have a private practice so can concentrate on Confetti after hours. If the franchise negotiations are successful the shops will have to sell my ice cream, but will be free to market their own snacks.
“Infrastructure is a big problem in Indonesia. I send ice cream to Bali packed in insulation and using busses. It’s cheap and so far successful, but for other deliveries I’ll have to buy a refrigerated van.
“I’ve seldom had problems with people taking me seriously. Maybe that’s because I’m a doctor and people trust me. It might be different if I was a housewife.
“I recommend any woman or man who’s interested in business to go ahead – you’ll never know if you never try. You can’t just stay alone in the house. Motivation is very important. So is creative energy.
“Try something new. Don’t be afraid. Get out of your routine. I never wanted to be in a situation where I was dependent on others.
“I want to stay calm, to not get headaches. I pray to God. I want to do my best and not hurt anyone. I see a lot of pain and problems in my hospital job, but we should respect life and never forget to count our blessings.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 25 September 2006)
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JAZZ IN SURABAYA
SIDEWALK SWING: JAZZING UP SURABAYA © Duncan Graham 2006
If you’re seeking jazz in Surabaya there’s no need to scour dim and dingy back streets for smoke-choked cellars. Just take an evening wander down Jalan Pemuda, the East Java capital’s main drag, and you’ll soon hear the music you crave.
For the Garden Palace Hotel features jazz bands at its sidewalk café where the smells and sounds of the city roll over the low hedge between patrons and pedestrians. If you’re on the outside you can enjoy the music without feeling compelled to buy drinks, though space is cramped and pavements potholed.
If you’re inside you can sit down and relax under canvas – that’s if you can shut out the din from the police sirens, honking autos and malfunctioning car security alarms. The hotel’s response to the cacophony of klaxons is to crank up the sound system to a point where it’s equal to the shock waves of a bunker-busting bomb.
Cool? Well, that’s questionable, despite the mist jets. Unwinding? Maybe, if you’re immune to the stress factor that usually accompanies crowds and noise.
If you think jazz is best played in a closed and cosy cavern during the early hours where the atmospherics enhance the music, then maybe this is not for finicky you. Nonetheless it’s currently the best on offer and the organisers deserve heartfelt applause for getting this far.
For jazz isn’t the most popular music form in Indonesia’s second biggest city where Top 40, Golden Oldies, Dangdut – even Reggae - rule. It’s the timeworn standards that pull the crowds of all ages, and where tin-ear crooners in the audience think they can do a better job than the performers.
It used to be different, according to Latief Darmawan who coordinates Surabaya’s C Two Six Jazz Club. The title sounds like a memorable riff but is just the street number of the gentleman’s suburban home.
“In the 1970s and 80s jazz was alive and doing well in East Java,” he said. “Interest waned after many popular performers went to Jakarta in search of more work and money.
“However things are now slowly picking up. We have about 500 enthusiastic members. About half are students and maybe 20 per cent women. Jazz seems to be seen as men’s music.
“We’re doing our best to popularise jazz. Unfortunately it has an image of being elite and expensive – which isn’t the case. By playing so close to passers-by in the city we’re getting good promotion. They can hear, they can like – and then love.”
Latief, who lectures at a hospitality industry training college, was one of the driving forces in this year’s Jazz in the City Festival, the first major promotion for some time. Apart from the hotel he got backing from a local radio station and a cigarette company.
Hotel staff said the three-night event this month (Sept), and which attracted ten bands competing for an Rp 5 million (US $550) first prize, was popular with patrons and may become a regular annual feature.
The winner was Jazz Friend, four young blokes who play in other bands but stitched together their group to bid for the big prize. Big? Well, by Surabaya standards any local band is lucky to collect Rp 600,000 (US $66) for a taxing gig in a toffee-nose hotel, so getting eight times that amount was well worth the effort.
They won the contest with a program of fusion, which seems to be the favored form. Fusion, also known as jazz rock, started in the 1960s as a reaction to rock along the lines of: If you can’t beat ’em, join ‘em.
For the hard-wired traditionalists it’s base stuff because there’s much repetition and minimal improvisation. However as a music bridge for those who find jazz too intellectual, it’s a reasonable compromise.
Of course many claim there’s nothing cerebral about jazz; it’s all about feeling. Which is why the form arouses so much passionate debate.
Of the four men, Anmad Salis Sauhar Firdaus (guitar), Sonny Sunarno (keyboard), Alkautsar Firdransyah (bass) and Yusak Mahu Nugroho (drums) only the first makes some sort of living from music. The others all have side jobs.
“I can earn about Rp 1 million in a month playing two nights a week, but pick up more than that in tips,” said Firdaus. “I don’t just play jazz. I have to do everything and keep moving around.
“I like jazz because of the freedom. You can play from the heart and the soul. I’d like to see it combined with traditional Indonesian music on the gamelan. That’s been done in Bali, though not here.”
Sadly Jazz Friend has no female singer and no saxophonist. To a Western ear the lack of a wind instrument tends to make the music feel unbalanced. The sax is rare in Surabayan jazz – or any band - so the audience seems indifferent to the absence.
Said Sonny: “Jazz requires dedication and skill. That’s often rare in music. With jazz you can be dynamic and free. You’re not closed off from other influences. It’s universal music. We want to be better appreciated by audiences.”
Did they have any problems playing a music form that’s often described as ‘the purest exponent of American democracy, celebrating individualism and compromise, independence and cooperation’?
“Sure, I’m a nationalistic Indonesian,” said Latief. “But music is global. It cuts through the boundaries. Like soccer.”
(First pubished in The Sunday Post, 24 September 2006)
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">Link
If you’re seeking jazz in Surabaya there’s no need to scour dim and dingy back streets for smoke-choked cellars. Just take an evening wander down Jalan Pemuda, the East Java capital’s main drag, and you’ll soon hear the music you crave.
For the Garden Palace Hotel features jazz bands at its sidewalk café where the smells and sounds of the city roll over the low hedge between patrons and pedestrians. If you’re on the outside you can enjoy the music without feeling compelled to buy drinks, though space is cramped and pavements potholed.
If you’re inside you can sit down and relax under canvas – that’s if you can shut out the din from the police sirens, honking autos and malfunctioning car security alarms. The hotel’s response to the cacophony of klaxons is to crank up the sound system to a point where it’s equal to the shock waves of a bunker-busting bomb.
Cool? Well, that’s questionable, despite the mist jets. Unwinding? Maybe, if you’re immune to the stress factor that usually accompanies crowds and noise.
If you think jazz is best played in a closed and cosy cavern during the early hours where the atmospherics enhance the music, then maybe this is not for finicky you. Nonetheless it’s currently the best on offer and the organisers deserve heartfelt applause for getting this far.
For jazz isn’t the most popular music form in Indonesia’s second biggest city where Top 40, Golden Oldies, Dangdut – even Reggae - rule. It’s the timeworn standards that pull the crowds of all ages, and where tin-ear crooners in the audience think they can do a better job than the performers.
It used to be different, according to Latief Darmawan who coordinates Surabaya’s C Two Six Jazz Club. The title sounds like a memorable riff but is just the street number of the gentleman’s suburban home.
“In the 1970s and 80s jazz was alive and doing well in East Java,” he said. “Interest waned after many popular performers went to Jakarta in search of more work and money.
“However things are now slowly picking up. We have about 500 enthusiastic members. About half are students and maybe 20 per cent women. Jazz seems to be seen as men’s music.
“We’re doing our best to popularise jazz. Unfortunately it has an image of being elite and expensive – which isn’t the case. By playing so close to passers-by in the city we’re getting good promotion. They can hear, they can like – and then love.”
Latief, who lectures at a hospitality industry training college, was one of the driving forces in this year’s Jazz in the City Festival, the first major promotion for some time. Apart from the hotel he got backing from a local radio station and a cigarette company.
Hotel staff said the three-night event this month (Sept), and which attracted ten bands competing for an Rp 5 million (US $550) first prize, was popular with patrons and may become a regular annual feature.
The winner was Jazz Friend, four young blokes who play in other bands but stitched together their group to bid for the big prize. Big? Well, by Surabaya standards any local band is lucky to collect Rp 600,000 (US $66) for a taxing gig in a toffee-nose hotel, so getting eight times that amount was well worth the effort.
They won the contest with a program of fusion, which seems to be the favored form. Fusion, also known as jazz rock, started in the 1960s as a reaction to rock along the lines of: If you can’t beat ’em, join ‘em.
For the hard-wired traditionalists it’s base stuff because there’s much repetition and minimal improvisation. However as a music bridge for those who find jazz too intellectual, it’s a reasonable compromise.
Of course many claim there’s nothing cerebral about jazz; it’s all about feeling. Which is why the form arouses so much passionate debate.
Of the four men, Anmad Salis Sauhar Firdaus (guitar), Sonny Sunarno (keyboard), Alkautsar Firdransyah (bass) and Yusak Mahu Nugroho (drums) only the first makes some sort of living from music. The others all have side jobs.
“I can earn about Rp 1 million in a month playing two nights a week, but pick up more than that in tips,” said Firdaus. “I don’t just play jazz. I have to do everything and keep moving around.
“I like jazz because of the freedom. You can play from the heart and the soul. I’d like to see it combined with traditional Indonesian music on the gamelan. That’s been done in Bali, though not here.”
Sadly Jazz Friend has no female singer and no saxophonist. To a Western ear the lack of a wind instrument tends to make the music feel unbalanced. The sax is rare in Surabayan jazz – or any band - so the audience seems indifferent to the absence.
Said Sonny: “Jazz requires dedication and skill. That’s often rare in music. With jazz you can be dynamic and free. You’re not closed off from other influences. It’s universal music. We want to be better appreciated by audiences.”
Did they have any problems playing a music form that’s often described as ‘the purest exponent of American democracy, celebrating individualism and compromise, independence and cooperation’?
“Sure, I’m a nationalistic Indonesian,” said Latief. “But music is global. It cuts through the boundaries. Like soccer.”
(First pubished in The Sunday Post, 24 September 2006)
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">Link
Friday, September 15, 2006
SOETRISNO
A SANDWICH COURSE IN PRESERVING CULTURE © Duncan Graham 2006
Javanese culture is like the meat in the sandwich. The slices of bread pressing on either side are Western lifestyles and Saudi Islam. But the filling is rich and nutritious, with protein, fruits and vegetables – enough to sustain.
You can digest the simile and make your own biting interpretation. Which is how it should be. For some things about the Javanese are not easily absorbed, according to culture buff and author of the metaphor above - Dr Soetrisno.
A former regent and Golkar parliamentarian in the Suharto era, and before that an administrator in the Department of Education and Culture, Soetrisno has now turned to writing.
With five published books on Javanese philosophy and arts to his credit he should be in a good position to help deconstruct the mysteries – though in doing so he tended to make them even more complex.
That’s not a criticism. As he said himself, some concepts just defy easy translation into English and Western logic.
“I learned much from my grandfather who was a village head in Blora (Central Java) where I was born,” he said.
“He told me about the symbolism of Javanese architecture, the way a house should be planned and built, the significance of the four main pillars, the importance of status and politeness.
“I learned the gamelan, the Javanese alphabet and how to sing. The language is alive and well, widely taught though spoken in different dialects according to the region.
“He gave me Javanese philosophy, and I still remember his words – to daily exercise the body, the mind and the soul. These were the basics and they should be held in balance. He said I should always be ready to discuss anything, and never let my brain become idle.
“We judge a person by five qualities – their way of speaking, sitting, eating, walking and dressing.
“I was blessed with a good memory, but warned against becoming an absent minded professor.”
The caution must have stuck because at 68 he’s still intellectually spry and direct, quick to contradict, a quality unusual in Javanese who often prefer to agree when they disagree.
“The Javanese are good at using hidden words,” he said. “’Yes’ is never absolutely ‘yes’, as I learned from my mother. It’s to preserve harmony but the origins of this behavior aren’t known and kids are often discouraged from asking ‘why?’
“However I encouraged my children to question the traditions and I’ve tried to fathom them myself. Why shouldn’t we sit on a pillow or perch a plate on our palm while eating?”
Apart from his fascination with Javanese traditions, Soetrisno has an extensive and eclectic collection of original paintings and artefacts from across the archipelago and overseas. These represent many other cultures.
Some works were gathered during tours he made of the Pacific and Hong Kong, and later of Europe, as leader of a Javanese folk art group of singers and musicians. A graduate of Airlangga, East Java’s most prestigious public university and Yogyakarta’s Gajah Mada University, he briefly studied in the US.
The urbane Soetrisno now teaches public administration at Brawijaya University in Malang. He lives in Surabaya where he spoke to The Jakarta Post:
“Traditional culture isn’t dying, but it has moved to the periphery of social life,” he said. “Some performances of theatre and dance can now be seen only in the villages, or in the cities as part of Independence Day celebrations.
“What’s happened? Well, television and modern entertainment has been partly responsible. But I also blame some artists who aren’t being creative enough by reinterpreting the stories and keeping interest alive.
“Much is imitation, not original. Maybe 75 per cent of young people in the cities don’t understand the traditional arts because they’re seldom taught.
“Despite this I don’t expect them to die out. The Javanese have a great capacity for acculturation. We withstood 350 years of Dutch colonisation, rejecting things and adapting others.
“We’ve taken some Dutch words – but not many. We no longer sit on the floor – but we sometimes bring our feet up and squat on the chairs. We eat at tables, but often with our hands.
“We have many ceremonies to honor the dead, at the funeral – then 40 days, 100 days and 1,000 days later. But in Mecca I was shocked to see they just bury the corpse and forget it – no flowers and no headstone.
“The sinetron (TV soapies) you see where Muslims use supernatural powers to fight ghosts and demons don’t follow the Saudi interpretation of Islam.
“The men who brought Islam to Java centuries ago adapted to fit local cultures and practices. For example they used the five-pointed star fruit to illustrate the obligatory duties of a good Muslim
“Only a few strict Muslims reject Javanese values – most people respect them. Some kiai (religious teachers) have a blinkered view of religion and won’t let students in their pesantren (boarding schools) have access to other ideas.
“We Javanese are very proud of our culture. We keep it alive by consulting our five-day week calendar for auspicious dates and holding special events, like burying a buffalo head at the start of a new construction. Some of these old ways date back to the Hindu era. All religions point to God.
“It’s much more difficult to be Javanese than a Westerner. You can drink beer, eat a hot dog, wear jeans and a T-shirt, and lounge in the chair. I can’t.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 15 September 2006)
##
">Link
Javanese culture is like the meat in the sandwich. The slices of bread pressing on either side are Western lifestyles and Saudi Islam. But the filling is rich and nutritious, with protein, fruits and vegetables – enough to sustain.
You can digest the simile and make your own biting interpretation. Which is how it should be. For some things about the Javanese are not easily absorbed, according to culture buff and author of the metaphor above - Dr Soetrisno.
A former regent and Golkar parliamentarian in the Suharto era, and before that an administrator in the Department of Education and Culture, Soetrisno has now turned to writing.
With five published books on Javanese philosophy and arts to his credit he should be in a good position to help deconstruct the mysteries – though in doing so he tended to make them even more complex.
That’s not a criticism. As he said himself, some concepts just defy easy translation into English and Western logic.
“I learned much from my grandfather who was a village head in Blora (Central Java) where I was born,” he said.
“He told me about the symbolism of Javanese architecture, the way a house should be planned and built, the significance of the four main pillars, the importance of status and politeness.
“I learned the gamelan, the Javanese alphabet and how to sing. The language is alive and well, widely taught though spoken in different dialects according to the region.
“He gave me Javanese philosophy, and I still remember his words – to daily exercise the body, the mind and the soul. These were the basics and they should be held in balance. He said I should always be ready to discuss anything, and never let my brain become idle.
“We judge a person by five qualities – their way of speaking, sitting, eating, walking and dressing.
“I was blessed with a good memory, but warned against becoming an absent minded professor.”
The caution must have stuck because at 68 he’s still intellectually spry and direct, quick to contradict, a quality unusual in Javanese who often prefer to agree when they disagree.
“The Javanese are good at using hidden words,” he said. “’Yes’ is never absolutely ‘yes’, as I learned from my mother. It’s to preserve harmony but the origins of this behavior aren’t known and kids are often discouraged from asking ‘why?’
“However I encouraged my children to question the traditions and I’ve tried to fathom them myself. Why shouldn’t we sit on a pillow or perch a plate on our palm while eating?”
Apart from his fascination with Javanese traditions, Soetrisno has an extensive and eclectic collection of original paintings and artefacts from across the archipelago and overseas. These represent many other cultures.
Some works were gathered during tours he made of the Pacific and Hong Kong, and later of Europe, as leader of a Javanese folk art group of singers and musicians. A graduate of Airlangga, East Java’s most prestigious public university and Yogyakarta’s Gajah Mada University, he briefly studied in the US.
The urbane Soetrisno now teaches public administration at Brawijaya University in Malang. He lives in Surabaya where he spoke to The Jakarta Post:
“Traditional culture isn’t dying, but it has moved to the periphery of social life,” he said. “Some performances of theatre and dance can now be seen only in the villages, or in the cities as part of Independence Day celebrations.
“What’s happened? Well, television and modern entertainment has been partly responsible. But I also blame some artists who aren’t being creative enough by reinterpreting the stories and keeping interest alive.
“Much is imitation, not original. Maybe 75 per cent of young people in the cities don’t understand the traditional arts because they’re seldom taught.
“Despite this I don’t expect them to die out. The Javanese have a great capacity for acculturation. We withstood 350 years of Dutch colonisation, rejecting things and adapting others.
“We’ve taken some Dutch words – but not many. We no longer sit on the floor – but we sometimes bring our feet up and squat on the chairs. We eat at tables, but often with our hands.
“We have many ceremonies to honor the dead, at the funeral – then 40 days, 100 days and 1,000 days later. But in Mecca I was shocked to see they just bury the corpse and forget it – no flowers and no headstone.
“The sinetron (TV soapies) you see where Muslims use supernatural powers to fight ghosts and demons don’t follow the Saudi interpretation of Islam.
“The men who brought Islam to Java centuries ago adapted to fit local cultures and practices. For example they used the five-pointed star fruit to illustrate the obligatory duties of a good Muslim
“Only a few strict Muslims reject Javanese values – most people respect them. Some kiai (religious teachers) have a blinkered view of religion and won’t let students in their pesantren (boarding schools) have access to other ideas.
“We Javanese are very proud of our culture. We keep it alive by consulting our five-day week calendar for auspicious dates and holding special events, like burying a buffalo head at the start of a new construction. Some of these old ways date back to the Hindu era. All religions point to God.
“It’s much more difficult to be Javanese than a Westerner. You can drink beer, eat a hot dog, wear jeans and a T-shirt, and lounge in the chair. I can’t.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 15 September 2006)
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">Link
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