The innocence of the average Indonesian is a large part of their charm, along with their generally good nature and relaxed, tolerant attitude toward foreigners. I came here after serving time in Japan and Thailand, and no matter how many decades you live there you are still treated like a frightening and unwelcome alien from a distant planet by the locals – even those who know you. It can be a pain in the ass, particularly when the fearful act is displayed by somebody you see on a daily basis.
Indonesians, on the other hand, are such a colourful collection – racially, culturally and historically – thatthey are generally relaxed and accepting around Caucasian visitors from just about anywhere. And when our attitudes or behaviour becomes too mysterious or inexplicable, they smile and say bule gila, which explains everything.
One definitive moment for me was the news report of a group of innocent (stupid) university students – from Semarang, if I’m not mistaken – distributing a caricature of The Smiling General in an unlikely pose of holding a champagne cocktail in one hand and a slim young lady, perched on his knee, in the other.
I say it was unlikely because the Bapak, as he was fearfully referred to, was not really known to be that fond of stray ladies, unlike the cheerful sex fiend who preceded him. What Soeharto liked was, according to trusted accounts, cows. He was happiest when ensconced up at his ranch in Tapos, gazing at his herd of cattle.
Those surrounding him were, as usual, the most dangerous ones, as they competed to show their zealous loyalty.
Thus, military intelligence quickly located the young culprit and whacked him for insulting the Head of State. And the law they used, with absolutely no sense of irony, was a Dutch colonial era statute aimed at punishing anyone who insulted the Head of State, namely, Queen Wilhelmina!
Look at what some joker has done to the neon name of the Hotel Kaisar (No, not “The Kaiser’s Hotel” but rather the “Hotel Imperial”), erected recently at the intersection of Jl. Duren Tiga and Jl. PasarMinggu:
Look at what some joker has done to the neon name of the Hotel Kaisar (No, not “The Kaiser’s Hotel” but rather the “Hotel Imperial”), erected recently at the intersection of Jl. Duren Tiga and Jl. PasarMinggu:
For the linguistically challenged among you, by deleting one letter the name of the institution has now become the “Hotel [take your pick below]”:
-
- backwoods
- verb
- be insolent
- adjective
- rough
- coarse
- rude
- crude
- harsh
- gross
- rugged
- abusive
- violent
- raw
- brute
- abrasive
- menial
- vulgar
- grainy
- rustic
- gruff
- heavy
- brutal
- crass
- brusque
- ragged
- bearish
- unkind
- abrupt
- tough
- brutish
- unpolished
- uncouth
- leathery
- curt
- low
- outrageous
- foul
- rough-hewn
- ugly
- disrespectful
- impolite
- ornery
- craggy
- churlish
- shoddy
- shaggy
- discourteous
- fresh
- knockabout
- insolent
- ungracious
- coarse-grained
- boisterous
- short
- common
- boorish
- roughshod
- impudent
- rambunctious
- atrocious
- indelicate
- broad
- round
- truculent
- surly
- raggy
- impolitic
- low-lived
- lowbred
- scurrilous
- currish
- swinish
- ill-bred
- scurvy
- doggish
- gimcrack
- ill-mannered
- randy
- sledge-hammer
- snappish
- hard-handed
- rank
- inelegant
- roistering
- roisterous
- nervy
- caddish
[A tip of the hat and “Thanks!” to the indefatigable Google Translate]
Just to make my point more sharply, they haven’t fixed this prominent neon sign for months. I dare say nothing about the, ahem, reputed female clientele of this fine, modern hostelry, except that “if the shoe fits, wear it”. (No reason to take a chance of being sued for libel by a fellow business, ha ha).
The absence of irony was driven home early in my career as an ESL teacher in Indonesia. I had a class of civil servants, pegawainegeri, studying at ALT under a contract with BKKBN or BNI ’46 or PTIK.
Student waltzes into an 8.00am class, smiling broadly and greeting everyone loudly (therefore interrupting the flow of learning) forty minutes late.
I scowl and say “Well good evening!” and the latecomer, taken aback, replies “No! It’s still morning!”
How do you fight that? I surrender.
Actually a few of the local intelligentsia do exhibit a certain sense of the ironic, as evidenced by their commentary when the 32-year-long serving Soeharto was abandoned and marginalized, often by the very same people he had raised to wealth and power: this had been the fate of his predecessor, who was also pushed roughly aside when events got out of control.
“It’s like a Chinese melodrama film” they would say. I think so.
Finally, I present to you a poignant visual that I would consider the ultimate irony of Twentieth-Century history, a kind of “Who won the war, Daddy?” punctuation:
You peruse this early 1960s postcard of Pancoran and you will note a sprinkling of vehicles from various manufacturers from varied countries: an American Jeep, a German VW, what looks to be a Taurus (German Ford), a dumpy-looking British sedan, a late-model Chevy, also an Indian 3-wheeled Badjai, and so on.
Not one Japanese or Korean car.
Today, of course, you would only rarely see any vehicle from the West (except, of course, for the doctor or the entrepreneur in his Merzy or Beemer). I was working on an annual report for the biggest non-Astra Toyota dealer in Jakarta two years ago. They had decided to discontinue their Chevrolet dealership. The number sold across the archipelago the previous year: 46.
Game over.And oh yes those weren’t really Chevrolets, just rebadged Korean clunkers (like the Timor, and that’s irony embodied as well).
