A Very Javanese Fourth

I spent my Independence Day in a very different manner from most other Americans. On the other hand, one could say I followed a long held American tradition of getting deeply involved in something that I don’t properly understand. Instead of barbecuing and drinking, I performed an East Javanese dance in front of a few hundred people at Surabaya’s city hall. This was the culmination of Tydif’s first month’s efforts for our program: Surabaya’s Cross Culture Festival.

Our final rehearsal

Photos courtesy of Leny, one of our photographers

Success comes from not taking things too seriously

Professional groups from around Indonesia, as well as China, South Korea and India performed traditional dances and music from their homes into which they clearly had put hundreds of hours and months of training. We, however, went on stage with three weeks’ instruction, and only our Fijian participant had participated in a choreographed dance before. Considering the circumstances, I’d say we did pretty well.

The dance’s name is “jaranan” which is Javanese for horse dance. Five of us, all three guys and the two tall women, performed this one. While the moves were not very technically difficult, we still struggled to memorize the whole five minutes. I retained most of the routine, so somehow the group ended up following my lead. In the theme of unexpected events, I bet none of you would have thought I’d lead a group in dancing.

Our stage

Stage Makeup: It took 3 days to get off

Credit: Leny

Scary (credit: Leny)

The rest of these taken on my camera by Kezi, another instructor

With our beautiful instructors

Last minute recap of the moves

Our heroes prepare for battle

Of course, I had only remembered most of the dance, so towards the end, after excessive galloping with our wicker horses, I forgot what followed, and paused. Then the other four paused, staring at me, waiting to know what happened next. Remembering my piano performances in the past, the worst thing we could have done was stop, so I restarted with the final move, and had us repeat until the end. Somehow we got back onto the beat with a short enough pause that most people probably didn’t notice.

After so much stress leading up to the Cross Culture Festival, the performance was cathartic, and I felt proud of us for learning so much in such a short amount of time. Finally there was something, in some form, to show for our time thus far in Surabaya.

On Friday, the remaining girls performed “Sparkling Surabaya” which is a contemporary adaptation of traditional dances meant to portray the classiness of Surabayan women. While the jaranan required a lot of physical effort, the girls’ Sparkling Surabaya was significantly more complicated to do right. They had a much steeper learning curve and more to learn than we did, so their performance was even more impressive. What’s more, they had tight corsets and wings. Go them.

Closeup (photos taken by myself again)

Saturday was our music performance. This one is not as much a point of pride. While we trained for a few hours almost every day in dance, we only had five lessons for music. As a result, even the simple song we had to present was fairly mediocre. I even felt slightly embarrassed going up on stage with such little preparation, especially since we had pushed for more music lessons in the beginning of the program. We did well enough, but certainly did not reach our potential, and, as a musician, I was far from satisfied with the outcome compared to what we could have accomplished. Our final performance at the end of the program will be better though.

Following Cross Culture, we thankfully had a break for the first part of this week. I took the opportunity to see another part of Indonesia and headed to Yogyakarta, colloquially known as Jogja, in Central Java. It was a necessary, albeit short, break from the noise and smog of Surabaya.

What fascinated me most about Jogja was the fact that one can actually walk around there. It’s next to impossible around here, so I spent most of my time on foot, simply because I could. This is largely because Jogja is a small, artsy, college city while Surabaya is a large business and transit hub. Consequently, what fascinated me after pedestrian friendliness was that at night it’s quiet. I could hardly get over it the first night, as I lay in bed listening to nothing.

Quiet alleys filled with street art

Surrounded by color in Jogja

Furthering the tranquility, I spent one morning exploring Prambanan, one of the largest Hindu temple complexes in Southeast Asia. Despite being a UNESCO World Heritage Site, there were surprisingly few people at the site. This meant that I got to explore the ancient temples entirely undisturbed, listening only to a chorus of birds accompanied by faint gamelan music streaming from distant speakers.

Suspicious bridge I found in the park

While foregoing most other touristy things (such as Borobudur, a huge Buddhist temple), I explored the Jogja food scene, because there’s no better way to travel. There is fantastic street food, with locals crowding most of the warung(wah-roong; food stalls), while none in Surabaya appear to be particularly appealing. Gudeg(goo-duhg), consisting of jackfruit boiled with coconut milk and palm sugar, is a ubiquitous traditional dish at almost every warung. I made sure to indulge in some of this, as well as sweet tea, which is even more prevalent than the gudeg.

Most of my spending went to one artistic café that a friend from the Surabaya group found the day before I arrived. I couldn’t resist overindulging, especially in the abundant options for tropical fruits, reveling in banana coconut pancakes and a fruit salad covered in Javanese chocolate and peanuts. My favorite meal, however, was, while meeting up with the IACS participants living in Jogja, we ate curried and fried cobra and python.  It was delicious, although incredibly bony. Eating a vertebrae’s worth of meat was a major project, but a rewarding endeavor.

Fried

Curried

 During this period of self-indulgence, the Muslim holiday of Ramadan began, a major aspect of which is fasting from sunrise to sunset. The purpose of this is reflection on what is important in life, as well as a practice in temperance, physically and emotionally. People must restrain their anger as well as refrain from food or drink for 11 hours a day. Since about 90% of the Surabayan population, including the Tydif crew, is partaking, and I am here to learn from Indonesian culture, I have decided to fast as well.

Yesterday was my first day of participating, with our Moroccan participant excitedly waking me up at 3:30 in the morning for sahur, a kind of pre-dawn breakfast before fasting begins at the end of the first prayer of the day. Najat (the Moroccan) was very excited to share this experience with other participants (three others tried it out as well), so she woke up earlier to cook a fairly extensive meal for us. After shaking off the sleep and realizing I only had half an hour left to eat, I made sure to stuff as much food as possible into my stomach to hold myself until sundown. When the call to prayer ended at 4:00, it was all over, and I had to wait until 5:30 that evening to eat again.

Somehow, I survived! What was most difficult was that, upon feeling hungry, I had to resist the impulse to simply pick up the food nearby, and wait. Also, some very intense cravings surged through my body at certain points, specifically a desire for coffee and hamburgers, which led me to think about Mom’s home cooked meals. That was particularly rough. I managed to distract myself from the hunger for most of the day though, especially towards the end when the dance instructors forced me to speak to them only in Indonesian. It took so much brain power that there was no room to think about food. Plus, I got some great language practice in (and they said I’m doing well, which may or may not be true).

Finally, at 5:30, with the call to prayer, we all rushed the refrigerator for tea and water, and the Tydif director brought us some treats as well as icy coconut water. Now I really know to appreciate food and how readily available it is to me. This had always been in the back of my mind, but now it is right up front. Even though this is a decision, just for experience, which I can stop at any point, it still reminds me of how so many people don’t actually have a choice for something like this, and can’t run for food at a set time.

Spending so much time with the Tydif team for our performances (about twelve hours a day) was a great bonding experience. They could share their passion with us by directly engaging us in how they live all the time.  Following the performances, I finally found rest and reflection which provided a few revelations. While this is far from the situation I expected or desired I am learning a lot about myself and about people. It is a true challenge to work through, and a real test at adaptation, as well as my philosophy of embracing the chaos, which is certainly prevalent here. These experiences have helped solidify my resolve to make the most of what has been presented to me. This part of life where I have ended up is the perfect chance to create something beautiful, and whatever it may be, I will make sure to fulfill the potential that it has created.

Here are some pictures of the other dancers from the festival:

Taste of Adventure

Now that I’m getting a feel for how things work here, at least in the IACS bubble, I’m starting to find small adventures throughout Surabaya. The program itself shows no sign of improving; even after the encouraging meeting with Pak Azis before our Malang trip, the arts center director is refusing to change the program to give us more experience with the other arts. We came here to learn a little of everything, but it is unlikely we will in our formal classes. I will keep pushing for balance in our schedule, but have also accepted its improbability.

Our problems do not exist with most people in Tydif, just the top, which is largely insulated from the group. Interacting with the rest of the team, however, is a great experience where we can actually learn about how Indonesians think and interact with each other. The instructors that work with us every day are a wealth of information and entertainment.

It’s time to just take advantage of the opportunities that our hosts represent and make something good out of our situation. There is still plenty of excitement and experience to create just by interacting with our instructors and Indonesians we meet along the way. Participants can make as much or as little as they want out of Surabaya. All we have to do is ask.

This outlook has already led me to a few adventures in one week. My first came last Tuesday night when I had asked Cynthia, a university student heavily involved in the Tydif studio, to bring me to her school to question research taking Pencak Silat lessons at night. We rode to the student center on a motor bike, my first time ever on such a machine. Also, if you’ve read my Unity in Traffic post, you’ll know that this in itself is quite an experience.

We found one of the school’s four Silat teams and came in to ask a few questions, not knowing what to expect (as usual). I was surprised (also, as usual) when the team, despite speaking very little English, invited me to start training with them right away, for free. They even provided my uniform right away, and then promptly began taking pictures with me (not surprising). I stayed for the first part of practice, but had to leave early because Jiuta (nicknamed J), our Fijian participant, had come along with Ucan (oo-chan) to find his own exercise possibilities.

As we walked out of the student center, Ucan asked if we would like to try nasi goreng jancuk, which translates, more or less, to “fuck you/holy fuck fried rice”. It’s really spicy. So naturally we agreed to give it a shot, rode over to the Surabaya Plaza Hotel and ordered a bowl. The server asked if we wanted spicy or extra spicy, and I, not understanding the magnitude of 1 oz of chili, replied that of course we’d try extra spice. She looked terrified at this response, as did Cynthia and Ucan. In Indonesian, the server and Ucan worked out making the dish “slightly extra spicy”, which probably saved J’s and my digestive systems from combusting.

Expecting a normal sized bowl per person, it turned out we had to eat our way through this behemoth:

If it were possible, it would have been about 4 plates per person for 4 of us

All of those red and orange highlights are chilies. It's a lot.

That would be filling anyway, but the chili made it impossible to finish two plates. The first two forkfuls were pleasant, with a strong but manageable burn throughout the mouth. With number three, however, things started to get really hot. Eventually I was sweating profusely and the spice was so intense that not only was my entire esophagus on fire, my body was numb. My fingers tingled with every movement. It felt like a weird state of drunkenness; my mind was very clear but my body felt slow and uncoordinated.

That is sweat and tears

Look how much fun we're having!

Thankfully that only lasted half an hour after the final bites, as J and I nursed our throats with iced tea and deep breaths through the mouth. We took about half the bowl home to trick the rest of our group members into eating, which was good fun. As a side note, I'd try it again.

Before going home, Ucan decided to take us around the city, specifically to the red light district. In Surabaya it is known as the “Dolly District” and is the largest in Indonesia. The part we rode through (and did not stop at all) was a shady back alley, with open shops where you can see made up girls sitting on high couches, waiting for customers. Creepy guys milled outside in the street and every once in awhile I saw someone enter by slipping cash into a door attendant’s hand. The whole place was weird and disconcerting. I know prostitution exists everywhere, but actually seeing it happen, especially so blatantly, really took me aback.

After the alley, we drove through a cemetery that I had gone through the previous day. At night, it turns out, this graveyard is also an extension of the Dolly District, where one can have some fun at a discounted rate among the gravestones. Thankfully I did not see any stage of these interactions.

By the time we left the cemetery, it was late enough for the roads to be fairly clear, so Ucan and Cynthia picked up their speed. It was a liberating feeling to rush down the street fully exposed to the breeze. I had the same feeling as going down Massachusetts Ave in DC on my bicycle. The ride was cathartic, giving a sensation of freedom and adventure that I hadn’t felt for some time.

On Friday, at the suggestion of our music teacher, a few of us went to see an East Javanese style play. It took place on an open air stage with just a roof above it and most of the seating. There were few props, as the entire performance focuses on the actors’ dialogue, with occasional gamelan accompaniment for songs or scene changes. The style of play, called ludruk (loo-drook)¸ is mainly comedy, and tells the story of everyday Indonesians.

Music teacher

Gamelan player at performance

Gamelan

The Stage

Most of the dialogue is in the Surabayan language, so we largely had no idea what was going on. Not even Aprina, our Indonesian participant, could help us figure out the situations, since she is from Sumatra, which has its own set of ethnic dialects. However, I managed to pick out a few jokes with my very limited vocabulary by watching their gestures. Despite the fact that I couldn’t understand 99% of the play, I still managed to appreciate its comedy. The actors elicited uproarious laughter from the crowd, and were brilliant in using gestures to convey as much as possible, allowing me to pick up on some of the punch lines.

Attending the performance allowed me to see a way of Surabayan life, to experience a form of Friday night entertainment, and see a very old tradition that has maintained itself over centuries. Friday showed me the essence of local culture and it is fascinating how modernity and tradition have managed to blend themselves together so seamlessly.

Sunday morning we attended the Yosakoi Dance Festival to see some of the younger Tydif dancers perform. The event honored Indonesia’s diplomatic ties with Japan, specifically Surabaya’s relations with its sister city in Japan. Every group performed to the same song, but the variety in the choreography was incredible, even though the dancers were as young as four years old. They already do it way better than I think I ever will.

The costumes were beautiful; the morning air seemed to sweat color onto the stage as dresses and flags fluttered around to the clack of wooden clappers the dancers used as part of their performance. So many people here spend uncountable hours on dance for any number of circumstances, again blending traditions with contemporary styles to preserve history and progress the art at the same time.

The Tydif Dancers 

Two of our choreographers

Traditional clothes, contemporary shoes

The Clapper

Tydif again

After seeing so much over the week, I finally have a better sense of Surabaya. Adventures abound and there is a strong arts culture here in all ways. Batik, music and dance all seem to be prolific if you look for them. The Tydif dancers constantly have performances, all of which are contemporary versions of traditional styles, I’ve heard instruments such as gamelan all over the place, and everybody wears batik. Now that I’m opening myself up to the many possibilities that exist, I can see how much opportunity there is to find great things here.