Read Indonesia, Etc.: Exploring the Improbable Nation Online
Authors: Elizabeth Pisani
The sturdiest of these threads is surely collectivism – village-based in Java, more clannish in much of the rest of the country, formalized nationwide through the giant web of the bureaucracy. Almost all Indonesians are bound into at least one important web of mutual obligation, often several. This provides many Indonesians with a quiet sense of security; daily life seems less anxious than in more socially fragmented nations. Faith (and the fatalism that so often shadows it) plays a part here too; there’s little point being anxious about a future that is in God’s hands.
Inevitably where personal networks count for so much, private and public obligations become tangled up, and the threads of collectivism get bound into stouter ropes of patronage and corruption. Though international observers rail at the cost of corruption in Indonesia, few give much thought to the role it plays in tying the archipelago’s mosaic of islands and disparate peoples into a nation. In Indonesia’s current Etc., patronage is the price of unity.
Citizens of a bounteous land, Indonesians are united, too, by an extraordinary generosity of spirit, a tolerance of difference. They welcome strangers like me into their homes and their lives, they go out of their way to help people in trouble. Arguably, they can be
too
tolerant, too slow to take a stand in defence of larger freedoms against a minority of crooks, thugs or self-serving leaders. And when the tolerance breaks down, Indonesians throughout the islands have shown themselves capable of brutality on a grand scale. But the breakdowns are few, considering the country’s diversity. No other nation has welded so much difference together into so generally peaceable a whole in the space of less than seventy years.
Like all Bad Boyfriends, Indonesia certainly has its downsides. The staff in the tourist office are spectacularly incompetent, it’s true (and also utterly charming). The cops will try and shake you down for a bribe every now and then, without doubt (but they will also steal your bike back when you lose the key, and drive you to the locksmith into the bargain). The government makes a habit of announcing cataclysmic political changes with a minimum of preparation, certainly (though if the new Etc. doesn’t work, they’ll quickly come up with another – ‘Nation-building by trial and error,’ one retired general told me with a smile and a shrug). But Indonesia’s upsides – the openness, the pragmatism, the generosity of its people, their relaxed attitude to life – are ultimately the more seductive traits, and the more important.
At the airport as I was leaving, I found a nice, clean, modern cappuccino bar, part of the JCO chain. To the left, a young man was frothing a flower pattern onto a mug of overpriced coffee. To the right, ten or twelve people waited to buy boxed sets of donuts to take to relatives in faraway provinces. ‘I’ll have two of the chocolate, and four of the cheese, then, no, wait, four chocolate, and . . . Hey, Budi, do you think Uncle Karma likes strawberry . . .?’ The attendant put donuts into a box, took them out, put them in again. Behind Budi, the line grew.
I went up to the coffee guy, who had finished his froth-art and who had no customers, and ordered a large cappuccino. ‘You have to join the queue, Bu.’ But there is no queue. ‘That queue over there,’ and he pointed to the scrummage of donut-seekers.
I joined the queue. ‘What do you mean the blueberry ones aren’t included in the special price promotion? How many were there? Five? Okay, well take them out and give me two choco-crunch and three coconut instead.’ It took me fifteen minutes to get back to the coffee counter. In that time the coffee guy did not serve a single other customer.
‘You have to admit that it makes no sense at all, making me wait in the donut queue when I only want a coffee,’ I said, as he made my drink. He smiled and nodded agreement.
‘
Ya, begitulah Indonesia, Bu!
’ he said: That’s Indonesia! And he handed me a coffee with a beautiful heart pattern etched into the froth.
*
At independence that nation did not, of course, include Papua.
This book is the product of the kindness of many friends and, especially, countless strangers (a goodly proportion of whom eventually became friends). Some you have met in the book; the generosity of many others is unsung in the text but no less appreciated.
I am especially grateful to the many people in Indonesia who welcomed me into their homes and their lives. In roughly the order I imposed on their hospitality, I’d like to thank some of them, and apologize to many more whose names I never even knew. In Sumba: Mama Lakabobo and family; Delsi, Ira, Asi, Juli, Dewa Lado and their mother Paulina; Piter Tibu and family, Karel Nooijen and Rosa; Andre Graff and Koni, together with Lexi, Billy, Domi and Daris; Imam Ladoregitera and family. Elsewhere in NTT: in Detutsoko, Anton; in Adonara, Mama Paulina and family; in Boti, the Benu family. In Maluku: Harry in Kisar; Dedi Wijaya and all the Pengajar Muda in Saumlaki, the Notabulen family in Ohoiwait and Tual, Ibu Tina in Banda, Ibu Edith in Ambon. In North Maluku: Vera, Tesi and family in Weda and Lelilef, Rob and Linda Sinke at the unexpected and glorious Weda Reef and Rainforest Resort; Ibu Elizabeth, Jongky and family in Sangihe, Flora Tanujaya and family in Manado. In Jayapura: Bpk Freddy and family. In Aceh: Syahyuzar Aka and Reza in Langsa, Bpk Adam and family in Idi Cut, with special thanks to Hanafiah; Nazaruddin Ibrahim and all his campaign team in Lhokseumawe; Hamidah Abubakar, Yufrida and family as well as Asya in Tangse; Nina Rachmadani and family in Singkil; Fidel in Pulau Banyak. Elsewhere in Sumatra: in Sidikalang, Samuel Sihombing and family, together with Lidya and the staff of Petrasa; in Payakumbuh Gus Sakai; in Harau Ibu Nelsi and family and in Jambi Ira Yurda, Mijak, Gentar and family. In Bangka Belitung: Ishak Holidi and Jumiran Susanto. In Sulawesi: Herto Sampelan and Zunaidi Tjinong and family in the Banggai islands; Dauda Sampelan, Amien Rais and Sultan La Ode Muhammad Djafar in Buton. In the city of Makassar: Lily Yulianti Farid and the staff of the delightful Makassar International Writers’ Festival, Luna Vidya and everyone at Bakti. In Kalimantan: in Mandor, Feralina Hakim and family, in Singkawang, Emily Hertzman and Niyan, Olin, Ah Hui. In Sintang: Danaus and friends, Bpk Askiman. In Nanga Lauk: Annisa Novita Dewi (Vivi), Ibu Dara and family. In Java: in and around Semarang, Megaputri Megaradjasa (Jenny), Evi Nugroho and family, Ibu Sanna. In Tinggarjaya: Ahmad Tohari. In Yogyakarta: Kharisma Nugroho and family. In Ngidoredjo: Aloysia Inlastini (Tini) and family. In Kediri: Heri Nugroho and family, and his many friends, including Heri 2. In Pekalongan: Veronica Nugroho and family. In Trijaya: Anijuniah and family, including the always fabulous Tarwi DeGraff. In Bali: the staff of the Colony Hotel, Adolf Brown, David Fox, Lily Wardoyo and Farquhar Stirling. In Lombok: Spike and Felicity Cockburn, Ibu Sopie and the teachers of the Pesantren Al Halimy, Nurhidayati and the residents of the Transito centre in Mataram.
The companionship of Jerome Tadié in Sumba and Melanie Whitmarsh in Kalimantan and Java greatly enlivened all-too-brief parts of my travels. Thanks to Jerome for improbable champagne and to Melanie for glorious photographs, many of which can be seen in the e-version of this book.
I’m immensely grateful to Heidi Arbuckle for allowing me periodically to reoccupy my former home in Jakarta, and to Bhimanto Suwastoyo and Arya for giving me a second home. Bhim has done more than anyone over more than two decades to introduce me to the vagaries of my Bad Boyfriend; he continues to inspire me to explore and discover Indonesia, and I keep coming back for more. Thank you, Bhim. Very special thanks to Steve Wignall and all the staff at Villa Beji Indah in Nyukuning, Bali for providing refuge and good cheer for unreasonably long periods.
In Jakarta, many people have contributed to my well-being and to my thinking, both recently and in earlier times, and I thank them all. Those who helped me with this project include Ienes Angela, Luwi Arifin, Adji and Asmoro Damais and their extended family, Vidia Darmawi, Rudi and Jenny Harmayn, Shanty Harmayn, Mas Karta, Aristedes Katoppo, Butet Manurung, Gourie and Ashok Mirpuri, Nikki and Nihal, Felicia Nugroho, Kharisma Nugroho, Enny Nuraheni, John Riady, Thamrin Tamagola, Evi Trisna and everyone at Indonesia Menggajar, Amir Sidharta, Juliana Wilson, Ibu Yanti.
Friends and kind strangers have answered questions and have read and commented on various parts of this book and it is much improved as a result; I thank them very much for their comments, and apologize for those instances when I have clung stubbornly to my opinions. I’m grateful to Bobby Anderson, Willem Bake, Sophie Campbell, Vaudine England, Andre Feillard, Jack Hanbury-Tenison, Keith Hansen, Rachel Harvey, Sarah Hawkes, Sonya Hepinstall, Bert Hoffman, Sidney Jones, Olivia Judson, Asmeen Kahn, Maarten Kok, Gwen Njoto Feillard, Ong Hok Chuan, Gray Sattler, Paul Schulte, Adam Schwarz, Made Setiawan, Daniel Suryadarma, Bob Templar and Liz Wrenn. Four people – one of whom I have never even met – have read every word of at least one version of this book, and have often been subjected to several versions. Their insights, comments and questions have enriched my thinking immeasurably. Infinite thanks to Ed Aspinall, Claire Bolderson, Michael Buehler and Andrew Wilson.
In Bangkok, where much of the writing of this book was done, I was given house and home by Nicola Bullard and Philippe Girault; many thanks. Several people tended generously to my sanity, among them Delia Bethell, David Cole, Peter Emblin, Jake Lucchi, Palani Narayanan and Cerissa Nyen. Ricky Catwell kept me smiling in London, too. Thanks to all of you.
This book has had many midwives. Thanks to Tracy Bohan at the Wylie Agency who provided calming good humour throughout. In the United States, I’m grateful to Alane Mason at W.W. Norton, who saw it through from conception to birth, as well as to Anna Mageras. At Granta in the UK, the events described in Chapter 10 notwithstanding, the book has been immeasurably shaped by the magic touch of Sara Holloway. It has passed also through the able hands of Philip Gwyn Jones and Sigrid Rausing, to land safely with Bella Lacey. Thanks to all of you, and thanks to other members of the team past and present, including Iain Chapple, Christine Lo, Brigid Macleod and Sarah Wasley. In Indonesia, John McGlynn has been admirable in his handling of this book, as well as of the incomparable Lontar Foundation.
Eric Olason drew the maps on a tight schedule; thanks. I am grateful to Gaetan Bernede, video editor and designer extraordinaire, and to John Wheeler and his colleagues at SPi Global, all of whom have contributed to the electronic version of this book. Thanks to Lilo Acebal for the illustrations that appear in the electronic version of the book, and for very much more. Ditto Susannah Fiennes, including for her author portrait, and Marit Miners.
Nicholas Little kept the home fires burning and made the project possible; for that as well as for friendship and laughter past and future I thank him. My parents have, as ever, been beyond supportive. It was from them that I learned to travel with an open mind and an open heart; I owe them a debt I can never repay. Finally, I want to thank my brother Mark. Without his constant, patient, good-humoured support, most of it given at unreasonable hours, this book would not exist. Indeed, I might not exist. I dedicate it to him, with all my soul.
Adat | | Traditions, cultures and laws specific to an ethnic group |
Aduh! | | All-purpose expression of astonishment, delight or dismay |
Bapak | | Father, a respectful term of address for an adult man |
Batik | | Patterned cloth dyed using wax-resist techniques |
Begitulah | | That’s the way it is |
Bu | | see Ibu |
Dangdut | | Indonesian pop music |
Dari Mana? | | Where are you from? A ubiquitous greeting |
Gamelan | | A Javanese or Balinese orchestra |
Ibu | | Mother, a respectful term of address for an adult woman |
Ikat | | Patterned cloth that is dyed before weaving |
Jilbab | | A head-covering worn by Muslim women |
Kebaya | | A long, fitted blouse; formal dress for Javanese women |
Kebun | | Garden, plantation, farm |
Keluarga Besar | | lit: ‘Big Family’, clan |
Kraton | | A Sultan’s palace, a court |
Kretek | | A tobacco and clove cigarette |
Merantau | | To travel in search of one’s fortune |
Ojek | | A motorcycle taxi |
Pak | | see Bapak |
Pancasila | | Indonesia’s amorphous five-point political philosophy |
Peci | | A fez-like cap worn by Muslim men |
Pendatang | | An immigrant from another island, or their descendants |
Reformasi | | lit: The Reformation. Refers to the post-Suharto era |
Waria | | A transgendered person |
Wayang | | Puppet theatre. Most frequently shadow-puppets |