Of Sinden and Blue Eyes

I was just toying with the remote control, changing the channels, when something very peculiar shown on the TV. A woman, complete in her authentic Javanese Kebaya, was singing as a sinden. What’s amazing is that, she is not a Javanese, not even Indonesian. She is in fact a leggy Caucasian woman born in Wisconsin, USA.

She was sitting there among the other sindens and belted some pitch perfect Kromo Inggil (Javanese Language of the highest caste - according to my wife who is from Malang). She also dance and mime in a flexibility often attributed to the most veteran of dancers.

My wife and I were just sitting there with our collective jaws hit the floor.

Now being a sinden is not like your run of the mill singing technique. It requires theatrical ability, wide range of pitch control with atypical (pentatonic?) notes, and most importantly the comprehensive grasp of Javanese language and folklore. That made the achievement of one Karen Elizabeth Sekararum all the more remarkable.

The number of professional sinden across the nation has been in a steady decreasing trend for quite sometime now. This is inline with the decreasing number of Wayang Show – Indonesian traditional puppet, confirmed by Tribun Indonesia, a local newspaper.

With young ones like us pursuing careers that would make all of our parents proud. Working as engineer, IT geek, architect, and other field deemed more promising financially. Even those into art, prefer western type of art such as hip-hop, R&B, and break-dance. Traditional heritage has been neglected over the years. It is encouraging to see the attention is now gaining momentum.

After some Google research, I found out that there are other budding foreigner sinden around, apart from Mrs. Sekararum. One Briton by the name of Esther Wilds, a Chinese descendant Meyling Sri Bowo. and another American, Susan Pratt Walton.

Several shows has been a sell out, with people intrigued by the sight of white women singing Babad Tanah Jawa. They could even let slip some English during the show, with the audience all laughing and amused. It was fantastic.

If Karen Elizabeth could fall in love with Indonesian art and culture. Indonesians should be even more proud that our traditional art can be as admirable as that of foreign culture. Hopefully not only our government authority but the private sector able to seize this opportunity to introduce them to broader audience.

With the world having a better appreciation of our cultural history, might as well become a counter balance of all the negative issues that has blighted our nation’s journey.

Note:

• Photo taken and edited from http://www.mangun-dharma.com/

Of Putting from The Rough

Everyday I go to the office using a commute called omprengan. We’ll venture more about omprengan in the coming days. Right now, I’d like to share with you a rather uncomfortable experience in my ride to the office these past few days.

Basically omprengan is a mini van type of car, like Suzuki Carry or Daihatsu Zebra. Two sit in front with the driver, four in the middle, and six in the back. I know, it’s totally crowded. People are bumper to bumper in the most inconvenient way possible. But it’s miles better than running for the buses from my place in Bekasi.

The six persons in the back are sitting face to face, knee to knee, if you please. In one fine day you’ll got a companion of some skinny and pretty ladies, so there’s room to spare. At worst you can end up with 6 rather large men like me with sweats pouring, as more often than not, the omprengan doesn’t have air-condition.

Anyway, there’s only a few cars operating to each direction, mine is Sudirman. So it’s inevitable you’d meet the same people over and over again.

There is this one particular guy, probably around 35, whose being friendly to me, sometimes in the threshold of being too friendly. Previously, we were just nodding to each other, sometimes chat a little bit about the driver being careless and what not.

I was beginning to be suspicious when his hands frequently touching my sitting knee. Too frequent and just landing there far too long for my liking. One time he tried as far as rubbing my thighs. I was in total shock and abruptly move my feet away from him. That was Wednesday.

On Thursday, I got up early and tried to change my habit, exchanging my usual favorite ride. Yet there he was again. This time his hand held my knee, and he tried to make conversation. I was being polite and immediately putting my iPod on to avoid any further contact.

People are stopping off in front of BRI and all of a sudden it was just me and him in the back. Now this is what makes me real mad. When I wanted to get off the car, as I bend there to drop my right foot, he spank me right in my ass. It was totally humiliating and I was just standing there speechless like an idiot.

What would any guy do in a moment like this?

I told my friends and they were just laughing their socks off. It’s not funny guys, well maybe a little bit, but they're not helping. I still don’t know what to do if next time he repeat his act.

I’m a very bashful person. Always trying to shun attention away. I’d be caught dead before I could make a scene, let alone inform a guy to get his hands off me.

Am I homophobic? I guess not. Being branded as a homophobic in these PC days, close many doors for you. But let’s just say this is not the first time for me. However we'll talk abut that some other time.

Of Red and White

You know that unavoidable moment when your wife asks you to be a little more frequent in saying that you love her. I wonder if my country Indonesia could speak, She'd asks the same out of all the people who born, live, breathe, feed, and love in Her bosom.

From now on, I promise to proclaim my love for Indonesia a bit more often. For no particular reason really. I just love this country so much, the people, the beauty of the land, the culture (I mean we have 400 different tribes, and 400 or more languages for God sake), the never ending promise, pride, and joy this land has given to me. To us.

I don't really care what people may say.

This high time is exactly the reason I get so angry to see politicians, time and again, fail to live up to the pride of our flag. Politics have been such a dog eat dog arena, and have drag this great nation to places She isn’t suppose to.

I can’t do anything about that now. We can’t do much more about that now. Nevertheless, there’s nothing wrong in showing your love to your country from time to time.

In this troubled times we might want to remember the old cliché asking about what have you done to your country. I wish in the end I could die and be able to proudly say that I've given everything that I could to serve my country.

( This is for all my high school friends who serve in Lebanon, I envy you guys! )

Ritz Carlton Buffet

Lamb Yum

We dine in Ritz Carlton last week. Ira crave the teppanyaki ice cream and I've been dying for some big delicious prawns.

It was rather empty when we arrived. Packed full not long after, with families and couples alike. Overall, twas an OK meal, I am too easily full nowadays for my liking.

There are quite a few dishes I haven't pillage. The pasta has gone downhill since the last time we visited. Couldn't quite point out what's missing. Maybe they have changed chef.

For around 19 dollar per person, it was definitely worth the price, if only I weren't so fed up. Pity, I used to be such a warrior on buffets.

However I must say the ratio between food quality, quantity and compared prices, Ritz Carlton trumps Four Season and Le Meridien. No surprise there's a lot of tourists and expatriates hobnobbing around us. There were several celebs also but we was too busy munching the lobsters to pay attention.

Ira enjoyed the dessert set, a collection of mouthwatering troufle, tasty tiramisu, and colorful mouse. Perhaps that's the reason she picked Ritz Carlton. It's her favorite place for cookies and sweets.

Here's some of the pictures of my loot. Forgive the quality, as they were taken with an old camera.

Starting with some baby lobsters.

Half eaten Tiramisu and assorted sweets

Ira looking rather happy.

By the time we went home, I was more or less five kilos heavier. Gone all of my hard work in the gym for this last two months.

Of Thugs & Misdirection

I gotta hand it to the current administration. They are very slick in using this whole Ahmadiyah FPI saga as a smokescreen for the 35% rise of fuel price.

Now everyone and their English speaking dog is crying in unison for the banning of these FPI thugs and forgetting already about the petroleum hike.

It's funny and amusing how the local blogdom react to some members of the aptly named National Alliance for Freedom of Religion and Faith (AKKBB) being beaten to pulp by these so called Islamic Defender Front (FPI).

It's like a competition of who could scream foul the loudest and who could come up with the most creative insults to this notorious band of men in robes. Kudos to them. Let them all be the unwitting cogs of SBY's PR machine.

The overreaction will definitely reach its fever pitch in these coming weeks drowning all the issue of inflation and the increase of living cost. As I were saying, more power to SBY's think tank.

The conniving section of the media also working full time for this. I haven't been able to guesstimate what their motive was. To sell papers/slots while staying in the good books of the government perhaps. It's like one clap for two flies at once.

O well, all of this to me is like watching a car crash.

Of I La Galigo

Not a great deal of people aware that the world’s longest literary work is not the Harry Potter series. That title belongs to the unheralded piece of an ancient scribble named I La Galigo. It is a vast epic and stirring saga of heroes, forbidden love, gods versus demons, and the eternal battle between good and evil.

Some sources even mention that it’s around twenty times longer than the Homer’s Odyssey. It’s estimated at 6000 folio pages, related to events from pre-Islamic, 14th century Bugis, South of Sulawesi, Indonesia. Would make a good read during my or anyone's boring commute.

During my study of Bugis Architecture I found myself more fascinated with reading about Sawerigading than the actual concept of local building (not that they're half boring, mind you). Sawerigading is the main protagonist on this giant story arc. Apparently he traveled to places no people ever step on, after falling in love deeply with his twin sister. Of course this incestuous love is strictly prohibited even in the times of the Gods, and he ultimately have to marry another woman.

It was said that this ancient chronicle consists of dozen of episodes, using wide range of storybook technique called flashback and foreshadowing. Now that is interesting. People in South Sulawesi are long known for their tradition of history writing using ‘Lontara’ – some sort of papyrus or fan.

It’s unfortunate the local humidity often times ruin these past writings. Very few have survived and shockingly preserved not in local museum but in European Libraries. Evidently they were quite valuable amongst European scholars back then. I remember one Sherlock Holmes story involving one Bugis manuscript.

When I was a kid, we have this rented villa, we always use during the school holidays. It was on the street named La Galigo in Makassar. I wasn’t aware of the significance until my findings in the Library many years after.

Some time ago there’s several article in national publication regarding an around the world performing art directed by Robert Wilson which featuring a cast of 50 Indonesia's finest performers. Some said it is a hit. Reading about it made me warm and fuzzy because it was about the land where I was born, Sulawesi.

Here are some links with information about I La Galigo:

• Indonesian Article in Sinar Harapan
• PDF about I La Galigo

Update - after doing some follow up research I found one article from The Time Magazine:

• Puttin' on the Myths
  

Of Coming Back

Almost 2 years have past since the last journal. A lot have happened but to be honest I'm not sure they'll make a good reading. The last couple of weeks however, something tickled me to do this time consuming and not necessarily productive blog trawling. My life was sailing along real fine, now I'm starting to miss deadlines and end up arguing some insignificants with strangers over the internet.

Blogging for me is a pretentious habit. Often times I was trying too hard to look cleverer than I really am. Using some big words and pseudo intellectual analysis talking about things beyond my pay grade. There, see i did it again. Looking back to what I've written so far sometimes embarrass me, it's not even funny.

Those were the days huh.

Wish I could just write something for private, for archiving sake. When I get older, as something my kids will read to me in my death bed. But then I argue myself, where's the fun in that? It's a lot nicer to write something that some people, even in small number, could read and relate to.

Mind you, I used to have a journal (ehem diary) in junior high. Putting all the name of girls I fancy inside. My late sis (bless her) stole and read it. I knew I should've wrote it in magic ink. Well, let's just say, paranoia has haunt me since.

Indonesian blogosphere though has changed a lot this few years. Encouraging to see the variety of quality and quantity posts by fellow countrymen. Some prominent names has risen to the fore and maintain quality for years. There are some cliques, elites who hounds off in packs those daring to voice dissenting opinions. There are people making real money out of blog and there are skeptics. A national convention in the name of Indonesian Blogger Party even held successfully a while ago. Things are looking promising.

Along with my trawling madness I found one particular blog which air my exact feeling about a lot of subjects, it's scary, only he put it in a much cooler fashion and far more articulate. I would have give you the link, but I’m afraid you'll just stop there and never return.

Phew, finished my first post. For your information, I wrote this on a non air-conditioned commute. We'll get into that later. Here's hoping for more journal to come.