The Jakarta Globe

History Buffs Go in Search of Indonesia’s Past

The Jakarta Globe


One only has to look at the demolition of colonial-era buildings across the country to see that heritage and history here are undervalued.


Sahabat Museum (Friends of the Museum) is a community of Indonesians who want to change that attitude, especially in young people.

From monuments, museums and temples, the group has introduced and dissected the country’s past for its thousands of members.

Ade “Adep” Hardika Purnama, 33, founded the community with a simple mailing list on Yahoo Groups in 2002.

“Since then, the online forum has attracted more than 4,600 members. We use it to share everything, from stories about our national heroes to our tour itineraries,” Ade said.

The group’s first trip, in 2003, was to Merdeka Square and Istiqlal Mosque in Central Jakarta. As many as 400 members took part in it.

Lala Amiroedin, 33, recalled that first outing seven years ago. “Back then, I had just returned from studying in the States and wanted to know more about Jakarta. My friend told me about this group and I thought it was really cool,” she said.

To date, the group has arranged 77 excursions. Participants range in age from young children to the elderly — even Adep’s 65-year-old mother, Wisdawati Amran, has taken part.

Adep said his mother used to take him on frequent trips to historic sites, such as those in the Old Town area of Jakarta, and he hopes parents today do the same for their children.

Sahabat Museum has also arranged visits to Cirebon, where a West Javanese kingdom once reigned, and Ambarawa, Central Java, which saw a battle between Indonesian and British forces in 1945 during the struggle for independence.

The group has also visited sites outside Java, such as Padang in West Sumatra and Banda Neira in Maluku, where the country’s founding fathers lived in exile during the Dutch occupation.

Sahabat Museum also invites guest speakers to give presentations about different historic sites. One such speaker is Lilie Suratminto, a history professor at the University of Indonesia.

“I always say that a nation that does not know its own history is an ignorant nation,” Lilie said. “So I am impressed to see that there are still a lot of people who are interested in learning about the country’s history and visiting museums.”

Outings are arranged by volunteers from the group and usually cost between Rp 35,000 ($4) and Rp 75,000 for trips in Jakarta, and from Rp 2 million to Rp 5 million for trips outside Java, covering everything from plane tickets, meals and accommodation.

Upcoming Tours

May 13-16 Malang, Blitar and Kediri in East Java; Rp 2 million-Rp 3 million.
May 28-30 Bengkulu, where former President Sukarno lived in exile; Rp 2 million-Rp 3 million
October 25-31 Ternate, Tidore, Halmahera and Morotai islands in Maluku; Rp 6 million
Sahabat Museum
sahabatmuseum@yahoogroups.com

Reaching for the Stars With Down Syndrome

The Jakarta Globe


Stephanie Handoyo, swimmer



Stephanie Handoyo may have Down syndrome, but that hasn’t kept the vigorous 18-year old from achieving goals other people only dream of.


Not only has Stephanie won various swimming championships, she’s also listed in the Indonesian Museum of Records as having played 23 songs in a row on the piano during a showcase in Semarang, Central Java.


Her mother, Maria Yustina, could not be prouder. On the day she found out she was going to give birth to a baby with Down syndrome, Maria bought a book about the condition to prepare for the special challenges she would face as parent. Then when Stephanie was just 3 years old, she began helping her to be independent.


“Some parents just don’t want to invest their time teaching and communicating with their children, who each have special needs that require patience and time to understand,” Maria said. This often leads parents to feel the need to “hide” their children, she said.


“From the day they are born until they are 6 years old, that’s the golden age, and you have to completely focus on them.”


By the time Stephanie was 3, she was already learning how to swim, something that Maria knew would benefit her daughter’s motor skills and contribute to muscle development. And when she turned 9, Stephanie began taking private piano lessons.


These days, Stephanie trains three times a week, for two hours at a time at the pool. And when she’s preparing for a competition she’s in the water for up to four hours at a time. .


“She’s won every swimming competition she’s competed in. Or at least gotten second or third place” Maria said.


But there have been setbacks, too. “Once, during a swimming competition she almost drowned in the pool,” Maria said. “That traumatized her and she didn’t swim for three years after that.”


To get Stephanie back into the pool Maria had to get in the water with her daughter and carry her in her arms to the middle of the pool. It was Maria’s way of showing her daughter that she would always be there to keep her safe.


Stephanie is now training to qualify for the 2011 Special Olympics World Summer Games in Athens.


“The government has also been very helpful in assisting parents of children with Down syndrome, especially those with accomplishments such as Stephanie’s,” Maria said.






Michael Rosihan Yacub, golfer


Aryanti Rosihan Yacub always knew her son Michael would be a success. So despite the long looks and stares of strangers, Aryanti never stopped encouraging him.


“I never cared about all the negative things that people say about children with Down syndrome,” Aryanti said. “I’ve always believed that if a child receives support, they can be as successful as normal people.”


Her patience and fortitude has inspired her son to break down barriers and fight off discrimination. In late 2009, the Indonesian Museum of Records (MURI) recognized the 20-year-old Michael as the only registered golfer in Asia living with Down syndrome.


Michael’s parents knew they were onto something when in 2006 he competed in a charity golf event in Singapore and finished fifth among 140 entrants.


“Most people underestimated him in the beginning, but Michael proved that they were wrong,” Aryanti said.


But Michael’s success didn’t happen overnight. Michael’s journey began when he was just 2 years old. Raised in a house of golf enthusiasts, Michael took to golf like a duck to water.


“It was when he was 8 when I decided to find a coach for him,” Aryanti said. Since then Michael has practiced swinging his clubs at least two times a week.


Aryanti said golf was instrumental in helping Michael improve his focus and discipline, while also providing him with a form of exercise.


“Golf is a game of concentration. It requires the player to focus real hard,” she said. “It’s a perfect sport for children with Down syndrome.”


During the MURI ceremony, Michael competed in an 18-hole tournament with other members of his golf club in Pondok Indah, South Jakarta. Although he didn’t win he shot an inspiring 108.


“He impressed everyone,” Aryanti said.


Aryanti said she always saw Michael’s condition as a blessing and not a curse.


“Children with Down syndrome are not trash in the society; instead they’re gifts from God. ”


The next step, Aryanti said, is to guide Michael toward a completely independent life.


“I know Michael’s IQ is only 35, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be independent,” she said. “With a lot of support from the family he can run his life like a normal person.”






Juliwati Jati, athlete and dancer


Juliwati Jati rarely misses a Special Olympics practice. And if she does it’s for good reason. The 17-year-old, currently a student at Dian Grahita School for Children with Special Needs in Central Jakarta, has a lot going on.


Juli, originally from Sampit district, East Kalimantan, has impressed her coaches and teachers with her passion and spirit.


The two-time Special Olympics medal winner is also a talented dancer.


Harison Sirait, the sports teacher at Dian Grahita, said Juli was someone her teammates could look up.


“At the last Special Olympic in Canberra, Australia, in 2008, Juli competed in two events and she won a silver medal for an individual basketball competition and a gold medal for running competition,” he said.


Harrison, who has coached Juli since 2000, said that Juli’s attitude and work ethic were what won her the hearts and minds of her peers.


Juli, who left her parents when she was just 2 years old to live in Jakarta with her aunt, has traveled to Canberra, Shanghai and Singapore to compete in Special Olympics events.


Under the guidance and support of her aunt in Jakarta, Juli juggles school, practice and dance competitions.


Along with seven other classmates, Juli competes in competitions as part of the SLB C Dian Grahita Jakarta dance group.


Agus Sucipto, Juli’s dance instructor, said that as long as the music was cheerful the energetic students took to the rhythm and dance with enthusiasm.


“For us, it’s not about being named the winner of the dance competition. It is about competing,” said Suster Joanni, the principal of Dian Grahita.


“Their hard work and their willingness are more than enough to be a winner for themselves.”

A Second Shot at an Education

The Jakarta Globe




Elisabeth Oktofani

For legions of the country’s unskilled work force, being hired as a domestic helper is probably as good as it gets when it comes to employment. However, an overall lack of education and legal protection puts these hard workers at risk of abuse.

But Rumpun Gema Perempuan, an organization dedicated to educating and protecting housemaids, has set out on a mission to lift up Indonesia’s domestic workers.

Established in 2000, the association runs programs aimed at domestic helpers in Jakarta, Depok, Tangerang and Bekasi, with an added emphasis on reducing the numbers of children working as maids.

Selvia Haryanti, 14, who has been a domestic helper for six months, says she is excited for the chance to learn something new.

“I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up, but I had to drop out after I finished elementary school,” she says. “My father is an ojek [motorcycle taxi] driver and he can’t afford my education. I also have a baby brother that takes up my mother’s time. To help my parents, I have to work.”

According to the International Labor Organization, there are about 2.5 million domestic workers in Indonesia, 35 percent of which are under the age of 17, school-age children whose education was cut off by economic necessities. These youngsters often work long hours for less than minimum wage.

Through its various programs, Rumpun Gema Perempuan has given more than 350 workers the opportunity to get a formal education and learn trade skills such as tailoring, music and cooking.

“One of our goals is to cut down the number of child domestic helpers. That’s why our program focuses on house servants aged between 12-19 years old by giving them skills training,” executive director Aida Milasari says.

With ILO funding, Rumpun Gema Perempuan opened a school and training center for domestic helpers at a home in Pamulang, Tangerang, in 2009.

Seventy-five workers are currently receiving training, while 12 of these are also studying for their secondary school equivalence diploma. Classes are held on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Initially, the program was met with mixed feelings from both employers and household helpers.

“In some cases, the employer is all for their housemaid taking the afternoon course, but it’s the child [worker] that refuses to do it. On the other hand, there are employers who forbid their child helpers to take this course. It’s a shame, considering that most of the employers are well-educated,” says Munisa Noor, the assistant field manager at the Villa Pamulang Mas branch of the project.

Aida says that although some students are forced to leave the program, 75 percent manage to complete the training course.

Dyah Rofika, the Pamulang project manager, says that the program benefits both the workers and their employers.

As a result of the training, the employees have become more disciplined and professional — they no longer have to be woken in the morning or play with their mobile phones while they are working. And some employers who previously denied their workers from communicating with their families have since changed their stance.

A large amount of graduates have quit their jobs as domestic workers and used their training to secure better employment. The ILO has awarded 17 outstanding students scholarships to study at formal middle and vocational schools.

However, the campaign for rights of domestic workers still has a long way to go.

Rumpun Gema Perempuan has encouraged housemaids to form a union to strengthen their bargaining power and deal with issues like physical and sexual abuse.

The organization is also actively working to push a bill through the House of Representatives to regulate work hours, create a standard wage and secure employment contracts for housemaids.

Indonesian Women in Their Own Words

The Jakarta Globe




Lisa Siregar, Sylviana Hamdani & Elisabeth Oktofani


What issues are women most concerned about in Indonesia? What are their aspirations, hopes and dreams? How do they view gender issues? To commemorate International Women’s Day today, the Jakarta Globe interviewed eight women to find out what they had to say about these issues.

Sofia Kartika, gender and development studies observer

Sofia Kartika, 27, is a blogger and avid observer of gender and development studies. She thinks that there are two issues that most concern women in the country.

“The first is the Cedaw as the entry point for policy,” she said, referring to the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women. Under the 1984 convention, government policies should not discriminate against women.

“It has almost been 25 years since we ratified the Cedaw, but it has yet to work properly,” Sofia said.

She cited the Antipornography Law and at least 156 bylaws in the country that she said discriminated against women.

However, Sofia, who also freelances at the Cedaw Working Group Initiative, also acknowledged that some policies protected women against violence and trafficking. “But enforcement of the law is yet to be optimized,” she said.

Another gender issue that Sofia thinks is important concerns the Millennium Development Goals. “This is an entry point to reduce the gap in terms of access, participation, control and advantage between women and men,” she said.

The MDGs seek a reduction in female illiteracy rates and the number of women dying during childbirth, as well as to empower women politically. But there is still a lot to be done. “Women’s issues have not been well-coordinated between the government, civil society and the private sector because policy makers do not have a complete understanding of women’s and gender issues,” Sofia said.

Dinda Alvita, model

Aside from being a model, Dinda Alvita, 24, is also a law student at the University of Indonesia.

She readily admits that in the fashion industry, it is the physical that matters most. “The pressure, in terms of being physically attractive, is huge,” she said. “Even though you exert your best effort, if they don’t think you fit the physical requirement, you won’t make it.”

Quoting famous French fashion designer Coco Chanel, Dinda said that one has to be unique to be irreplaceable. For models, that means that one has to be extremely beautiful or extremely ugly so that people will take notice.

Dinda said she was usually booked for runway shows rather than magazine shoots. Whether on the runway or in real life, Dinda thinks women in general will always be judged based on how they look.

“For example, men can be so picky in terms of looks when looking for partners,” she said. Women, on the other hand, prefer security over looks.

Looks aside, Dinda said that women faced challenges in the public and private spheres of their lives.

“My family expects me to look for a boyfriend, get married and start a family soon, but I’m not ready for that,” she said. “Is [doing so] really important? Because I can do things on my own.”

Nitta Nazyra C Noer, filmmaker

Young filmmaker Nitta Nazyra C Noer is in Aceh filming the documentary “Srikandi Pulang Kampung” (“Srikandi Returns Home”), which follows the story of a Jakarta transvestite who returns to his hometown.

“Srikandi” is sponsored by Kalyana Shira Film, a production house known for producing films that tackle gender issues.

Nazyra said that not all women in the country were empowered, adding that patriarchy had grown stronger in Aceh.

“What’s worse, women in Aceh don’t think that they are repressed because they think the [Shariah] law is right,” Nazyra said.

In her film, Nazyra’s goal is to capture how poverty affects the lives of the Acehnese, particularly from the transvestite characters’s point of view.

“For me, poverty is not only [limited to] material things or money, but it also [includes poverty of] information,” Nazyra said. “I see that women in Aceh are going backward with bylaws that are non-gender sensitive.”

Nazyra pointed out that during Prophet Muhammad’s time, women were still accorded respect even though they were placed second to men.

The filmmaker, however, said she was optimistic about women’s empowerment in the capital.

“In Jakarta, we see a lot of smart and ambitious women who are independent,” she said.

“But I don’t like it when men give women the advantage just because they’re women. If that happened to me, I’d be offended.”

Mila Melany, housewife

Mila Melany is a homemaker who lives in Tangerang. As a mom to a 5-year-old daughter, she is very concerned about child trafficking, an issue that she often reads about in the newspapers.

“I’m worried about my only daughter,” she said. “I read in the newspapers that schoolchildren are often lured with chocolate and candies by strangers and then kidnapped.”

To prevent this from happening, she has taught her daughter not to trust or accept gifts from strangers.

Mila is also wary about news reports concerning the Internet.

“Parents should really monitor their children’s online activities,” she said. “Teach them to say ‘no’ when a new friend from Friendster or Facebook asks to meet in person. It could be very dangerous for them.

“The police should also get to the root of this problem and uncover the syndicates [involved],” she said. “It would certainly make our lives easier.”

Roslina Verauli, psychologist

Roslina Verauli works as a psychologist at Pondok Indah Hospital. She has long observed that women are very susceptible to different kinds of stress.

“This is caused by the multiple roles they have in their lives,” she said.

“She is often a wife, a mother, as well as a career woman. These differing roles cause her tremendous pressure, which may lead to mental stresses.”

Roslina is of the opinion that the country should start doing more to develop family systems.

“Right now, parenting is still perceived as a mother’s responsibility,” she said. “When something goes wrong with the children, the woman is always blamed. This is not fair.

“Husbands should share the responsibility with their wives. When a wife is not too tired and is not under a lot of pressure, they’ll have a happier and healthier home life.”

Mien Uno, entrepreneur

Mien Uno, president director of Duta Bangsa College, thinks that women are still discriminated against in this country.

“Indonesian culture still puts an emphasis on the men,” she said. “As a result, men receive better treatment within their families and at workplaces.”

Mien thinks that women themselves perpetuate this cultural problem.

“We will be treated fairly if we’re qualified,” she said. “Do not succumb to gender inequality. Learn new skills. Expand your horizons.”

She believes that if women empower themselves, they will eventually be able to improve their roles in society.

“Personally, I think women are naturally built to be stronger than men,” she said.

“We can do more things and take on more responsibilities. I believe that if women foster their characters and continue to learn, people will respect and trust them more.”

Riri Kristiana, security guard

Riri Kristiana, 34, works as a security guard at an apartment complex in the capital. She has two sons, aged 7 and 12. Her not-so-traditional occupation was the result of a decision she made five years ago to support her family.

“I have had experiences with other types of work in the past. But because I love to try new things, I took this job as a security officer, which has been very challenging,” Riri said.

She said that most of the male security officers she works with do not underestimate women who hold the same job. In fact, they respect women who are brave enough to work in the field.

“The only problem that I encounter is complaints from both apartment guests or the management. It’s not a big deal, though.

“There are some guests who do not want to be checked and they complain about us and what we do. People in management complain about finding parking spaces,” she said.

While Riri still enjoys her current job, she is considering making a change to a career that would allow her to spend more time at home with her children. She is finding this a challenge, however, because of her age.

“Life is hard and I am willing to take whatever job I am given. As a woman, I think I can do whatever men can do,” she said.

Caroline, DJ

Being a female DJ and a lesbian is a complicated combination for Caroline (not her real name), a 20-year-old university student from Yogyakarta.

“We live in a society that has many stereotypes based on gender,” she said. “In addition, there is still a lot of ignorance about homosexuality.”

Caroline, who started her career as a DJ working at nightclubs while she was still in junior high school, said that it was not difficult to maintain a positive image, as long she avoided the temptations of alcohol and drugs.

“It’s a piece of cake to create a positive image as a female DJ. But as a lesbian, I always try to hide my identity from everyone except from my good friends. I don’t want people to start discriminating against me because my of my sexual orientation,” she said.

Reproductive Health 101 For Students

The Jakarta Globe


 
 
 
“The World Starts With Me” is the title of the first chapter of a series of interactive modules developed by the World Population Foundation, which aims to teach Indonesian adolescents about sexual and reproductive health.
 
The WPF has been looking into the issue locally since 1997, in response to research that showed there was a high degree of reproductive health problems and gender-based violence in the country. The Dutch nongovernmental organization aims to provide Indonesian teenagers with balanced information about sexuality, reproductive health and gender issues.
 
One of the WPF’s most recent projects is the creation of interactive computer programs. One such program is called “My Exciting Teenage World,” or “Daku,” in which students are made aware of topics related to reproductive health through learning modules like “Is Your Body Changing Too?,” “Fight for Your Rights,” “Love Shouldn’t Hurt” and “Pregnancy: Notes for Boys and Girls.” Each module is introduced by virtual hosts. The program also makes use of quizzes and other activities.
 
The Candle of Knowledge Foundation (YPI), a local organization supported by the WPF, has been promoting the “Daku” program since 2005. With the WPF’s assistance, YPI has trained around 50 teachers from 24 senior high schools throughout Jakarta.
 
“We personally approached 50 high schools in Jakarta to talk about the program, which is made available for free, but only 24 agreed to adopt the program,” said Sari Hapsari, the program manager for YPI.
 
Titi Yuli Munaf, a guidance counselor from SMK Negeri 16, a vocational school in Central Jakarta, said she read about the program two years ago and convinced the school’s principal to adopt it.
 
“The program is exactly what the students need, especially those in their final year in school,” Titi said.
 
However, because the school has a limited number of computers, only 40 students were able to follow the interactive computer programs provided by the WPF. The other students were given lessons using a printed 16-chapter module.
 
In 2007, the WPF introduced similar interactive sex education programs for students with disabilities. One of the programs, “Reproductive Health Media for Deaf Youth” (“Maju”), is now being used in three schools that specialize in teaching the hearing impaired.
 
Siti Rahayu, the principal of Santi Rama school for the hearing impaired in Cipete, South Jakarta, said that she was skeptical of the WPF program at first.
 
“I wondered if they knew what they were talking about,” she said. “But when we started working together and preparing the modules, I began to think that the subject matter was good for our students.”
 
Nanik Sri Wahyuni, a reproductive health coordinator at Taman Harapan vocational school for the blind in Keramat Jati, East Jakarta, said the program fit the needs of the students because they were involved in shaping it, along with reproductive health experts and school officials.
 
“We prepared the material together with the WPF,” Nanik said. “To make the program more suitable for students, the project was developed with the help of students themselves. In fact, two students from our school participated in preparing the program.”
 
In discussions with students, Nanik discovered that a number of students at the school between the ages of 14 and 18 were sexually active.
 
“I found it unbelievable that they were already sexually active at that age,” Nanik said. “But now, I hope things begin to change because the students are better informed about sexuality. Sometimes when they go out on a date, their friends remind them, ‘Hey, don’t forget chapter seven,’ which talks about love and sexuality.”
 
In addition to school-oriented projects, the WPF also introduced “Seru,” or “My Source of Information on Adolescence,” a sex education computer program designed for boys in juvenile correctional institutions and already being used in Tangerang, Medan and Blitar. The foundation also developed the “Me and You” program, a social skills course for preschoolers, which focuses on gender roles and the prevention of sexual abuse.
 
The WPF programs are now being run in 12 provinces — including West Nusa Tenggara, North Sumatra, East Kalimantan, Jakarta, Yogyakarta, Central Java, East Java and Bali — but the foundation hopes to expand its reach nationwide in the future.

Making a Home For Indonesian Prose Online

The Jakarta Globe




Think of us as failed short story writers,” said Prasodjo Chusnato Sukiman. “This is why we’re doing this.”

The 35-year-old was referring to sriti.com, an archive of published short stories in Bahasa Indonesia, which he co-manages with a number of avid readers.

The project traces its beginnings to the 1990s, when Chusnato and fellow students Sjaiful Masri and Taofik Hidayat used to meet under a kapok tree at the Bogor Agriculture Institute to swap books and talk about and cut out short stories published in newspapers.

Calling themselves Salju Bogor (Snow of Bogor), after the cottony fiber that floats from a burst kapok pod, their activities back then attracted the attention of Yanusa Nugroho, a short story writer who taught them literature and writing, and who also introduced them to big-name authors like Ayu Utami and Djenar Maesa Ayu.

Over the years, though, the group’s scrapbooks of short stories began to yellow and fall apart. It was then that Chusnato came up with the idea of retyping the stories and uploading them on the Internet.

“Our goal was to compile literature from print media [in one place],” he said.

Taofik designed a Web site, which they named sriti.com, after a small bird with an injured wing that they found under the kapok tree one time.

“We treated it and the next day it flew away,” Chusnato said. “It was a very moving moment.”

Sriti.com was born on Aug. 15, 2000. It was not easy at the start. “Back then, not many newspapers uploaded short stories onto their official Web sites,” Chusnato said.

Chusnato and Taofik worked on their own for three years, paying for the site’s maintenance out of their own pockets.

The Web site, however, grew steadily. More people joined the project, including Sjaiful Masri, Anggoro Gunawan and Bany Akbar, churning out weekly installments of short stories published in national newspapers like Kompas, Media Indonesia, Republika and Suara Pembaharuan, as well as local publications like Jawa Pos, Batam Pos and Pos Kupang.

Occasionally, a writer would ask to have their story removed from the site. For the most part, however, writers have had no reservations about sriti.com. It now has a collection of 3,394 short stories written by 935 authors and previously published in 53 print media outlets. Sriti.com’s popularity among Indonesian readers has prompted several publishing companies to approach the site’s moderators for a compilation of selected short stories in book form. For a time, most of the site’s moderators held out, saying they did not have the editorial authority as readers and were not as capable of story selection as members of the mainstream media.

Bany, however, had a different opinion. “He said that if we want to get involved in Indonesian literature, we have to produce something that everyone can read, not just those with access to the Internet,” Chusnato said, adding that it was also Bany’s idea to allocate the proceeds of the published project to finance maintenance for the Web site.

They decided to take up Gramedia Pustaka Utama’s offer. Early this month, “Bob Marley dan 11 Cerpen Pilihan Sriti.com 0809” (“Bob Marley and 11 Chosen Short Stories by Sriti.com 0809”) was published. The book is a compilation of 12 short stories archived from January 2008 to August 2009.

The group had initially chosen 15 stories, but had to drop three because the authors would not give permission for their stories to be included in the anthology.

Bamby Cahyadi, 40, whose short story “Aku Bercerita Dari Pesawat Yang Sedang Terbang” (“I Tell a Story From a Flying Airplane”) was previously published in the July 26, 2009, issue of Koran Tempo, said he had no problem having his work archived on sriti.com. Bamby, who manages a fast-food restaurant in Jakarta, said the Web site was “a milestone for Indonesian literature.”

“Though what they are doing seems simple enough, they nevertheless are playing a part in the development of Indonesian literature,” he said, adding that sriti.com had helped introduce readers to authors from around Indonesia who have only been published in local media.

Mirna Yulistiati, from Gramedia Pustaka Utama, said sriti.com was highly recognizable among readers. “When they can’t find a story anywhere else, they turn to sriti.com,” she said.

Kenyan Safari Offers Glimpse of the Wild

The Jakarta Globe


Elisabeth Oktofani

When was the last time you didn’t shower for four days? Or stepped out of your comfort zone, away from the luxury of your clean sheets and warm bed?


I did this in 2009. Just four days before Christmas, I landed at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Kenya, fully prepared to sleep next to a river full of crocodiles and wake up to the sound of hyenas in search of breakfast.

My friends thought I was crazy. After all, it was an 18-hour flight from Jakarta to Nairobi. Why would somebody would go on a three-week trip to a place like Kenya, which is dry, poor, undeveloped, unorganized and bereft of shopping malls, they asked. Wouldn’t it be better to just take a trip to New York, Paris or Milan, where there are shopping centers everywhere?

But coming from Yogyakarta, I was ready to ditch the malls, cellphones and hot showers available in the modern world for a chance to see cheetahs, giraffes and lions.

After spending two days shaking off jet lag at the leafy Nairobi suburb of Muthaiga, I began to pack for my first ever safari with my boyfriend and his parents.

It was decided that we would camp under the stars for four days and three nights. But roughing it in Kenya is different from the ordinary camping trips you take in Indonesia.

In Kenya, one is surrounded by wild animals like lions, hyenas, hippos and crocodiles. In contrast, camping in Indonesia means you’re up in the mountains eating Indomie and listening to your iPod.

“The other thing about the African bush that I think is most important of all is that one comes to the understanding of the huge variety that there is in nature,” said Jeffrey Rees, my boyfriend’s father.

“And in Africa, one can experience this both in the flora and the fauna and therefore I think the traveller to Africa has to be ready for that.”

The word safari is Swahili for journey. Maasai Mara, a sprawling 1,500-square-kilometer national reserve, perfectly situated right along the equator in southwestern Kenya, is everything a first-timer could ask for.

The flat, low-lying savanna is home to 57 species of birds of prey and 450 species of wildlife, including the “big five”: lions, leopards, elephants, buffaloes and rhinoceroses. These are what everyone who goes on a safari dreams of seeing.

As we finished packing the Land Rover ahead of our six-hour trek, Jeffrey and his wife Jenny explained why Maasai Mara, home to the famous wild beast migration from the Serengeti, was the perfect spot for a safari.

“The thing about camping is that you’re in the environment for 24 hours, day and night, and that’s a much more real experience,” Jeffrey said.

Jenny reiterated the importance of the real camping experience.

“When we get to the campsite, we always book a special campsite that is only used by us, so you have no other tourists, no other people. You just have the peace and quiet and wildlife all around you,” Jenny said. “And after you’ve been there for 24 hours, they come to you. You don’t have to go looking for them.”

As we passed through the outskirts of the city on our way to the campsite, the sky began to darken and the warm sun was replaced with cool rain drops. Luckily, the rain was light and we had no problem setting up camp.

Inside the reserve, we set up 15 meters from the river. As we unpacked the Land Rover and set up our tents, we could hear the loud grunts of the four hippopotamuses talking to each other near us.

The lush, green savanna lay out in front of our campsite. We relaxed with a cup of tea before setting the kerosene lamp on the table so the animals would let us sleep peacefully through the night.

“I think that becoming conditioned, immured or bored,” Jeffrey said, “I think it happens to us in an urban environment.

“Young people walk through the shopping malls looking for something to do, something to buy, some form of entertainment. I think that from the point of view of a sophisticated human being, it’s good to change your environment in order to stimulate yourself.”

While this wasn’t exactly roughing it, it was by no means a four-star hotel.

For two days, we trekked around the park in the Land Rover. Normally park visitors would use walkie-talkies to communicate the location of animals to other tourists. But we decided to turn these off, go without a guide, and search for the animals on our own.

“Usually, if you go with a group, the guide will communicate to other groups the location of big animals, such as leopards, cheetahs or lions,” Jenny explained. “But it’s different when you organize it by yourself, just like we did.”

Doing it alone paid off when we spotted a lone leopard in the midday sun.

“We found it by ourselves,” Jenny said. “To see a leopard, like we just did earlier this morning, was just incredible and a rare experience. It’s [only] the second time we have see a leopard since we’ve been living in Kenya.”

For me, going on safari instead of a big city with malls and museums was the right choice. Seeing the hyenas, black-backed jackals, baboons, mongooses, vultures and even secretary birds made it all worthwhile. I didn’t have a schedule or routine. It was all just relaxing.

We spent two full days in Maasai Mara, driving around the reserve and watching the animals. There were hundreds of gazelles, elephants, antelopes, zebras, buffaloes, giraffes and wildebeests. I saw lions, leopard hyenas, cheetah, rhinos, hippopotamuses and crocodiles all living together in one dynamic ecosystem.

It was so relaxing to be away from it all — no Internet, no cellphones, nothing but nature.

As we ended our last night in the reserve by enjoying a cup of tea around the fire, Jeffrey and Jenny recalled the six years that they have spent going on safaris in Kenya and some part of Tanzania.

“No matter how comfortable you are a city environment, for example, I think that going out and doing something which is completely different, like camping, trekking, climbing a mountain or going sailing provides an extraordinary contrast to what you normally do. In so doing, it’s very, very stimulating, refreshing and engaging,” Jeffrey said.

Indonesian Entrepreneurs Chasing Dollars in East Timor

The Jakarta Globe

Elisabeth Oktofani

Indonesian-owned restaurants, such as the bakso eatery above, are popular in East Timor. (AP Photo)

Indonesian-owned restaurants, such as the bakso eatery above, are popular in East Timor. (AP Photo)

Indonesian Entrepreneurs Chasing Dollars in East Timor

Previously known as an area of conflict, East Timor is becoming a land of opportunity. Indonesians often go abroad to take menial jobs such as cleaners or laborers. But in East Timor, they are able not only to create happy lives for themselves and their families, but to participate in building that country’s economy.

Meina Sumino from Tulung Agung in East Java owns a Javanese restaurant in Fatuhada, Dili, and said she is better off “earning gold” in East Timor than suffering as a cleaning lady in Malaysia.

“When my husband and I first arrived in Dili, we were very apprehensive about how we would survive in this country,” she said. “But we had heard many good things from people in Indonesia.

“When we got here, we found it is a hard and dry land, and there were many United Nations police on the streets. That frightened us a little, but did not deter us. The presence of the United Nations comforts us, although they remind us that while things are stable now, they were not so in the past.”

East Timor’s president, Jose Ramos-Horta, spoke about the large number of Indonesian migrants in the country last month in an address to the nation on the 10th anniversary its vote for independence from Indonesia.

“Of the foreign workers who are flocking into our country, many have come from Indonesia,” he said. “Some are here on work visas. Others entered on tourist visas. Many are here illegally. When I drive around and see their faces, observe their hard work in trying to earn a modest income, I think of the villages and families they left behind pursuing the dream and what is often the illusion of a better life elsewhere. How they end up here is still a mystery to me. But here they are, many thousands of them. We welcome them and must find ways to legalize their stay.”

“One thing that is quite difficult to handle here is working permits,” said 50-year-old Haji Baharudin, who started a shoe business in Kampung Alor in 2001. He said Indonesians could establish businesses only after obtaining a work permit from the Department of Immigration in the Ministry of Defense and Security, and registering with the Ministry of Tourism, Commerce and Industry.

Baharudin left East Timor in 2004 when business started slowing down and returned to his family in Soe, East Tusa Tenggara. However, he went back to Dili in 2007 because, he said, the opportunities are better there.

“I will say people [in East Timor] don’t know how to spend their money wisely,” he said. “After they get their salary at the end of every month, they appear to spend it very quickly on things that may or may not have much value to them. They are not yet very savvy consumers. That’s very different from most Indonesians.”

The government is the largest employer in East Timor and salaries are high compared to Indonesia. A senior civil servant earns approximately $700 per month, while the same position in Indonesia pays only half that. In Dili, small restaurant owners said they could take in $100 per day, more than twice what they could earn in Indonesia.

Baharudin said he could buy shoes in Indonesia for as little as $4 and sell them in East Timor, where the US dollar is the official currency, for as much as $20.

“But if a customer comes with less, I will bargain and perhaps drop my price to $18 or $15, as I want them to keep coming back. But even at that price, I am still making good money.”

Rudi Hartono also owns a shoe shop in Kampung Alor. He moved to East Timor after one of his friends returned from Dili to their hometown of Atambua, in East Nusa Tenggara. The friend encouraged Rudi to try his own luck in East Timor, saying there were many opportunities there for Indonesians.

“I am happy that I made my way here because now I can see a brighter future for my family even after just six months,” he said. “I admit that building a successful business here in Timor is not easy, but it is not nearly as difficult as it is at home in Indonesia.”

Suparman moved from Semaran in Central Java to Fatuhada, Dili, where he now has a Javanese restaurant, called Amor.

“If I was still in Java, I might just be a construction laborer and only earning a very small salary that wouldn’t even pay for my own food, let alone my family, each month,” he said. “But it is very different here. By opening Amor, I am not only feeding my wife and my daughter, but also the local people who work for me.”

There are many Javanese restaurants in Dili, Suparman said, although most adapt their menus to local tastes.

“If I served authentic Javanese food, I might not have as many customers as I do now. In my experience, authentic Javanese food is not as popular as a more Timorese menu,” he said.

Indonesians are not always instantly accepted by the locals, however.

“The first time I stepped foot in Timor Leste, I felt worried and insecure,” Suparman said. “I was worried the conflict would start again, but then as time passed and as I settled into life here, I realized that people were more afraid of me than I was of them. This was because they thought I might be ABRI [Indonesian military from the New Order era] from my appearance as a bodybuilder, and my short haircut.

“I came here with optimism and not a gun. I came here to build a better future for my family, and to offer friendship and not animosity. However, as time passed, I realized that the past is still very fresh in their minds. I admit, it hurt me to be suspected and avoided. But I wanted to persist, as I was sure that their reception would improve, as indeed it has. They are friendly to me and we are all friends here.”

Fellow restaurant owner Meina initially had some problems also.

“One day, a few Timorese men ate at one of my restaurants and refused to pay the bill,” she said. “They argued that they shouldn’t have to pay in an Indonesian restaurant in East Timor. That didn’t make any sense at all because I came here not as a social worker but as a legitimate businessperson.

“They should realize that we have come to Dili with good intentions. We pay our taxes, our utility bills and fulfil our other obligations, so why discriminate against us?”

Over time such problem have receded, she said, and she now has a good relationship with her customers, suppliers and the East Timorese in general.

“We never know where our luck lies until we seize our opportunities, even though this is a country living in the wake of conflict.”

A Bloody History: East Timor and Indonesia

East Timor, after nearly 400 years as a Portuguese colony, found itself practically abandoned by its colonizers in 1975 and on Nov. 28 of that year, declared its independence.

Nine days later, Indonesia invaded the territory — in an action that was supported by the United States and Australia in the belief that occupation by a pro-Western nation would help stop the spread of communism in Southeast Asia — and East Timor became its neighbor’s 27th province the following year.

During the Indonesian occupation from 1974 to 1999, it is estimated that 100,000 lives were lost through fighting, disease and starvation.

When the East Timorese voted for independence in a 1999 referendum, pro-Indonesia militias wreaked havoc in the territory, killing about 1,400 more people.

Three years later, in May 2002, East Timor formally became independent.

Indonesia and East Timor have tried largely to put this bloody past behind them and when East Timor celebrated the 10th anniversary of the referendum earlier this year, President Jose Ramos-Horta again ruled out any possibility of an international tribunal to try the Indonesian generals and militia leaders responsible for the deaths in the aftermath of the historic referendum.

“My stated preference, both as a human being, victim and head of state, is that we, once and for all, close the 1975 to 1999 chapters of our tragic experience and forgive those who did harm to us,” he said in a speech.

The Australian Federal Police recently said it would open a war crimes investigation into the “Balibo Five” incident in 1975, in which five foreign journalists died during the Indonesia invasion. Earlier this month, Indonesian President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono said such an investigation would be a backward step.

“This is not in line with our spirit to look to the future between Indonesia and East Timor to end all issues that disrupt the relationship between the two countries,” he said.

Finding Soul in Siter Strings

The Jakarta Globe

Dalih Sembiring & Elisabeth Oktofani

 

All the seats on the porch of the Banana Cafe are taken. The occupants of the cafe, in the first kilometer of Parangtritis Street in Prawirotaman, Yogyakarta Province, are mostly men, including Western tourists, enjoying a night out over cold beer and cigarettes.

A remixed dance track is playing loudly through the speakers, its beats blasting the warm air, permeating conversations of amplified voices that every so often break into hoots and laughs.

From a distance, a man wearing a jacket and a pici, a rimless, black velvet cap, is seen striding slowly along the sidewalk with a musical instrument in hand. Stepping from the showering street lights onto the cafe’s dim terrace, the old man puts down the small wooden siter. His wrinkled fingers begin to tango upon the strings that let out piercing notes of an old Javanese song called asmarandhana. The dance track stops as he begins to sing.

“Excuse us for killing the music, but we appreciate his presence here,” whispers Peter Yohanis, one of Banana’s waiters, to the customers.

The cafe visitors lower their voices. All eyes have turned to Pak Gareng as he croons his sharp, trembling voice while the tunes from his siter cords dive, swish and soar melodiously. A few moments later, even though Gareng has not finished playing, raucous conversations resume.

Gareng — one of many Javanese whose names consist of a single word — and his music may seem out of place here. He is used to receiving pitying looks more than appreciative attention.

Sometimes, when the Banana Cafe is crowded, none of the waiters move to turn off the deafening music from the bar. “It has happened twice” said Peter, who has been working at the cafe for five months. “Out of annoyance for his coming on busy nights, we did not turn off our music.”

Maria Retnaningrum, one of Banana’s regulars, said that she was not a fan of traditional music, “But Pak Gareng’s piece was interesting.”

“His voice and his music blended beautifully,” she continued. “So I thought I should show some appreciation by giving him money.”

Every time he has the chance, which usually depends on his health, Gareng heads to Prawirotaman, one of the several areas where many foreign tourists stay in Yogyakarta. He goes into a cafe, plays one song, walks around to every table and silently asks the audience to put money into a small can that he takes from under his jacket. He then heads to the next cafe and repeats the sequence.

“I love playing siter,” said the 78 year old after sipping on some hot lemongrass tea. “And I’m not ashamed to have this profession.”

“I’m doing this for myself. I don’t have to provide for anyone else since my son is able to support himself, his wife and their children,” he added.

Gareng used to accompany a dalang, or master puppeteer, in wayang performances by playing his siter as part of a gamelan, a traditional Javanese ensemble. When the dalang died more than 10 years ago, members of the orchestra went their own way and Gareng lost his steady income. No one would hire only a siter player to complement a puppet show.

“My wife and I decided to roam the streets. She would sing to my music,” Gareng said softly in a delicate dialect of kromo Javanese. But before they could busk, Gareng had to go to Solo, Central Java, to purchase his own siter as the instrument he used to play belonged to someone else.

“I bought two, medium and small, for Rp 500,000.”

The medium-sized instrument Gareng bought is called a celempung, which has 13 strings. A siter, which is related to the kecapi in a Sundanese gamelan, has 11 or 12 strings attached to both ends of a resonator box. The box, propped up by four legs, is usually 30 centimeters long but has varying widths. To play the instrument thumbs twang the strings in rapid succession while other fingers muffle the vibrations by holding down the strings that are not being plucked.

“I only bring the siter when I go busking because of its lightness,” said Gareng, with a smile ever present on his face. He has become used to employing the singular pronoun, since his wife died four years ago. As he lives alone in Mantub village in the southern district of Bantul, he often stays at the house of his friend Slamet, a pedicab paddler, after his nightly tours which usually end shortly after midnight.

Making an average of Rp 75,000 a time, Gareng does not spend a penny on changing his siter strings even when they start producing stifled sounds. Instead, he simply heads to a vehicle repair shop to ask for used motorcycle brake wires with which to replace the strings. These wires are not only free, but also durable.
Asked about his life motto, he answered: “Tiyang nyambut damel menika dipun kanteni remen” — You should be happy with what you’re doing.

At around 11:30 p.m., Gareng said thank you for the tea and, clutching his long-time companion to his chest, left the cafe to carry on playing popular dance tracks for another few hours.

Some weird advice about learning once came from an extraordinary man. His name is Hadi Subiyanto, a siter player, whose life motto has been: “The best teacher is the best student, and to be the best student, you have to learn like a mad man.”

Hadi was able to say those words in perfect English, and then gave an example of what he meant. “You, celempung, when did the Diponegoro War take place? No, 1908 was when the Budi Utomo organization was founded. You, siter? Right, 1825 to 1830! You, saronen [a traditional wind instrument], where was Cut Nyak Dhien, the Acehnese heroine, buried? No, not Aceh. She was buried in Sumedang, West Java,” he rattled on to the instruments, as his motto goes, like a mad man.

“In learning, everything has to be exerted — eyes, hands, mouth, mind,” Hadi proclaimed. Hadi was a teacher for almost 10 years.

“I graduated from senior high school in 1963, and then I taught English, German, geography and other subjects at a technical school,” he recalled.

“At the same time, I also worked as a civil servant for a koperasi [small cooperative economic enterprise] and taught at a pesantren for no pay in the morning,” Hadi added. A pesantren is a traditional Islamic boarding school.

Hadi took on many other occupations before an offer came to him to play siter at Dharmawangsa Hotel in Kebayoran Baru, South Jakarta. Moving to Jakarta in 1973, he found work as a technician for the construction of the sky lift in Taman Mini Indonesia Indah, or TMII, a culture-based recreational park. Here he also joined the Tanduk Majeng musical group, where he played various Madurese musical instruments in the East Java section.

“In 1980 I went to Aceh and worked for the liquefied natural gas mill in Arun until 1985. After that, I traveled to Palembang, Lampung, Suralaya and Batam. In 1997, I returned to Jakarta,” said Hadi, who heads the arts and culture division of Rampak Naong, an association of Madurese people in Jakarta.

“Months later — it was in 1998, I think — someone asked me if I could play East Javanese musical instruments at Dharmawangsa Hotel,” he continued. “Apparently, the hotel people had asked the TMII people, and the TMII people mentioned my name.”

Hadi and other traditional musicians then formed a group called Gema Palapa. The members have been taking shifts performing at the hotel’s Majapahit Lounge ever since. Five people play Sundanese musical instruments, and four, including Hadi, focus on the Madurese ones. But his range of musical knowledge is not limited to traditional compositions.

“I was once invited to play in Singapore. There were artists from various countries, and I saw a flag throwing group from Italy perform in the accompaniment of the song Gondola. During a break, I played my saronen to the Gondola tunes, and one of the Italians was really surprised. The truth was, I already knew the song,” he said with a big laugh, showing the four front teeth he had left. His group has also performed in Malaysia, Japan, Australia and Canada. Back in Indonesia, they get invitations to play at big events from time to time.

“I taught myself how to play siter. Most traditional musicians learn by doing,” said Gareng. “You pluck a string, you remember how it sounds, you pluck other strings, and then you try to combine everything.”

Gareng believes he inherited the artistic talent of his grandfather, who ran a reog performance group.

“As a kid, I found entertainment in sounds — the sounds of the rain and the wind, the croaks of frogs in the rice field,” said Hadi, who just turned 66 this month, describing his earlier interest in music.

“I tried all the instruments lying around in the house,” he continued. “Now I can play siter, celempung, the flutes, gender [a percussion instrument], angklung and several others.”

Hadi rose from the sofa in his living room, located on the second floor of his house in Lubang Buaya, East Jakarta. He grabbed his siter, sat on the carpet spread on the green-tiled floor and started playing a Chinese composition. In this abode that he built bit by bit, artistic skills are nurtured.

“One day I found my son playing the angklung. I never taught him how to use the instrument, but he played it quite well. He’s a member of my group now,” Hadi said.

Angklung is an instrument consisting of bamboo tubes that produce sounds when shaken from side to side.
“My youngest child, Ayu, teaches traditional dances there,” the father of four said, pointing at the balcony, his siter now placed by his side. Hadi believes that not many people in Indonesia know what a siter is, let alone know how to play it. As part of a gamelan ensemble, its presence is not of the highest necessity so it often gets ignored, and it is occasionally left out of the group.

Agus Suseno, a Javanese ethnomusicology professor at the Indonesian Arts Institute in Yogyakarta, said that there is only a small number of siter players left in Indonesia.

“It is very difficult to learn how to play siter. Besides, most people are interested in contemporary music,” Agus said, referring to the decreasing number of applicants for ethnomusicology studies.

Hadi goes even further by claiming that his group members are the only professional Madurese-style siter players left.

Professional siter players, Agus said, use special strings, “Others use guitar cords, but most siter buskers prefer the cheaper motorcycle brake wires, which do not produce the best tunes.” However, like Gareng’s, the strings of Hadi’s siter are also recycled from brake wires.

The strength of the cords can be seen as a reflection of the hardship both men have faced in life. The beautiful notes they create, however, may also stand for the happiness they have found along life’s journey, each in their own way.