Sweet chiming of local sounds

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , Jakarta | Mon, 07/13/2009 11:28 AM | Features

The tricky part about making a set of wind chimes is deciding what to leave out. Choosing which tones to include can be even trickier if the chimes are made from bamboo, glass, shell, stone, porcelain or wood.

 
Tired with the routine of servicing his customers' pianos, Abdul Madjid Gangga decided to create a musical instrument that did not require regular fine tuning. He found his answer in wind chimes.
"When I was servicing pianos, I was thinking about a musical instrument that needed tuning only once ever," Abdul Madjid told The Jakarta Post during the creative industries exhibition at the Jakarta Convention Center last week.
"Although I made a living servicing pianos, the routine of it bored me."
As the material used to create wind chimes can have a large impact on the sound it produces, Abdul Madjid spent four years from 2000 working with all sorts of metals, including bronze, aluminum, copper, brass and steel, to get the best tones from the pipes. He finally settled on aluminum.
At first, Abdul, who graduated in music from Jakarta's Yayasan Musik Indonesia (Yasmi) in 1980, only created wind chimes with heptatonic chords (as used in Western music), but later he turned to making only chimes using ethnic tones, which he said were better understood by Indonesians.
In 2004, he created the first wind chime with tones similar to those of the traditional Javanese gamelan.
Today, he offers nine variations of wind chimes imitating the tones of the traditional musical instruments of Sunda, Bali, Manado, Melayu Deli, Madura, Papua, Betawi and Java. He also creates Arabian, Japanese and Chinese chimes.
Thanks to his skill with pianos, which he had worked with since the 1970s, Abdul was able to find his own formula to determine the tone according to the length, width and the thickness of the aluminum pipes. He also uses his fine-tuning skills to make his pieces pitch perfect.
Madjid uses the basic tone A with pitch 0.0 and frequency 440 hertz. "This tone is similar to piano tones and will never change," he said.
"Nowhere else in the world do people make chimes with tones similar to certain ethnic musical instruments that are set to 440 hertz. These tones will never change."
Abdul Madjid said a friend of his in Virginia in the United States had been conducting research to find out other wind chimes that use specific tone from ethnic music, but had turned up nothing so far.
"Mostly they only cut the pipes without (doing) the fine tuning," he explained.
Abdul Madjid's first customers were those he knew from servicing pianos, but now his wind chimes are finding homes with many people from East Java, Central Java, West Java as well as employees of foreign embassies, churches, Pondok Pesantren and Vihara.
Abdul, who employs eight workers and has patented his instrument, typically receives 25 to 40 orders a month in his workshop in Depok in West Java. His chimes are priced from Rp 350,000 to Rp 5 million per set.
"The most popular chimes are the biggest ones because they have a more complete melody and bass," he said. "Also because the bigger the pipes the more their reverberation is sustained."

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Mahabharata's heroes return

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , Jakarta | Wed, 07/01/2009 12:37 PM | Features
Blast to the past: Comic lovers enjoy nostalgic moments of their childhood readings through republished old comics.

Forget Batman, Spiderman or Superman. There is another breed of action heroes out there in the brightly hued land of comic books. Their names have a more local take, like Gatotkaca, Arjuna, Abimanyu and the twins Nakula and Sadewa.

Don't expect Captain America-versus-Superman high jinks or super-criminals threatening the world. This comic offers the real actions of heroes from the epic Mahabharata or Ramayana, which are sometimes portrayed symbolically by puppet masters.
Within the last few years, Indonesian comics have awakened from a long sleep since the invasion of Western comics in the late 1970s and 1980s. Comic-lover communities have been sprouting up here and there, sharing interest in old Indonesian comics, while also promoting the re-publishing of both old and new ones.
Earlier this month, the publishing of the comic Riwayat Pandawa (The Tale of Pandawa) has brought together the monumental works of late comic writer Teguh Santosa on Mahabharata, Bharatayudha and Pandawa Seda in one bundle.
Publisher Pluz+, a special publisher set up by comic lovers, spent two years collecting pieces from the series from collectors and bookstores around the country before reprinting them using a special technique.
These comic strips have never been published before. They were first published as a supplement in children's magazine, Ananda, in the 1980s.
"The old publishers never kept hard copies. So we had to restore old copies of published material, and then reprint them," says comic lover Andy Wijaya, who was involved in the process.
It all started when several comic buffs got together through a mailing list and Website, komikindonesia.com, back on June 20, 2004.
The online platform was able to draw together comic lovers nationwide, which later on went to mediate comic copyright holders and publishers to re-publish quality comics. As of today, the number of active members in community has reached more than 2,000 people.
"As comic lovers, we know which ones are still wanted in the market and we also help the copyright holders with legal matters so they don't feel reluctant to re-publish their comics," says Andy, who owns the comic-book shop Anjaya Books.
To date, the group has helped negotiate the publishing of no less than 15 old Indonesian comics, including selected titles of superheroes series such as Gundala Putra Petir, Si Buta dari Gua Hantu, Godam and Dina.
However, sales are not that rosy.
"We sell at most 300 copies of each title, from a target of 1,000 copies," says Andy.
Driven by the determination to rejuvenate Indonesian comics, but at the same time facing the reality of the business world, Andy joined hands with fellow comic lovers Gienardy S., Asrin Nirwan and Erwin Prima Arya, in founding Pluz+, dedicated to publishing selected Indonesian comics.
Having their own company, they re-publish only limited edition of comics upon order from other comic lovers. This helps shorten the distribution chain, as they can sell directly to readers or specialty bookshops.
The digital printing technology has also helped them realize their business ideals. In the past, more than 3,000 copies of any one title had to be printed to make it financially feasible, but now a 500-copy print is sufficient.
"The printing cost could have been much higher, but with limited editions, we spend less money and we don't have to spend money on storage," says Andy.
"We don't have to chase after sales targets, and can comfortably rely on our own links, because sales from these cover the production costs."
Andy, a fan of Kus Bramiyana's Laba-Laba Merah (Red Spider), believes that old reprinted comics still have their own market, and with better printing techniques, people will still long to browse through comics in remembrance of their long-lost childhood memories.
"We've been targeting a segmented market, where people actually buy nostalgia, and for whom money doesn't matter," says the man who gave up a career in Singapore for one in rejuvenating the local comic scene.
Comic researcher Seno Gumira Adjidarma says comics based on the Indian epics have a unique position in Indonesian history, born as they were from political repression.
Images of yesteryears: Comic community in Indonesia reprints several widely known old comics of Indian epics.
The first such comics, popularly known as "komik wayang" (shadow-puppet comics), were published in 1954-1955, when writers struggled to find a safer form of comics, as they were deemed a representation of imperialism.
During this time, the publisher Keng Po printed Johnlo's works: Lahirnya Gatot Kaca (The Birth of Gatot Kaca) and Raden Palasara. Meanwhile, Bandung-based publisher Melody issued R.A. Kosasih's series of Mahabharata. For his efforts to preserve traditional values through comics, Kosasih was later named the father of Indonesian comics.
"As a schoolboy in the 1960s, I remember the time comics were seized from students and burned, as they were seen as a representation of imperialism; so comic writers came out with something safer to produce. This is why we have comics based on wayang," Seno says.
Pluz+ co-founder Gienardy S. says the reprinting of the Indian epics was just the beginning of the effort to rejuvenate the Indonesian comic scene. The publisher will also support the production of new comics and comic merchandise.
"A new generation of Indonesian comic writers has been hired by foreign comic publishers. We just need to support them to be better in developing characters and solid plots," says Gienardy.
The decision by comic lovers to reprint the Mahabharata, Bharatayudha and Pandawa Seda, says Seno, is not just to scratch around for documentation, but a resistance to the business hegemony of the big comic industry, which offers cheap and low-quality comics in bulk.
"It doesn't matter if our kids don't understand Naruto *a popular Japanese anime*. But if they don't understand the Mahabharata, it's like losing their identity," Seno said last month during the launch of Riwayat Pandawa.
Teguh Santosa is not the first writer to draw comics absed on this Indian epic, and he has drawn parallels with his noted predecessor, R.A. Kosasih.
Although both writers rely on original Indian repertoire, which has been locally developed in certain versions, in certain parts Kosasih only wrote them in his narration, while Santosa draws them in his pictures.
"This is really an enrichment. We have different versions of visualization," says Seno.
Whereas Kosasih's works are filled with Indian-styles temples, Teguh's works are filled with Javanese character, particularly in architecture.The fact that these stories were treated only as an insertion in a children's magazine clearly shows its inferior position, despite the fact that Teguh Santosa was an important figure in the history of Indonesian comics.
If Wid N.S. was known as the creator of superheroes Godam and Aquanus, Teguh was known as the creator of many martial arts figures. He was the first Indonesian comic writer hired by the world comic publisher Marvel Comics in New York as an inkman for the serials Conan, Ali Baba and Piranha.
His style of presentation is also unique compared to the latest comic styles.
"If the strength of Japanese manga is in their movement, Teguh's works are like paintings. His surrealism gives his scenes the effect of a painting. We love staring at them. Although the costumes are weird, the imagination is strong," says Seno.

KBR 68H centers on radio journalism

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , Jakarta | Tue, 06/30/2009 8:45 AM | Features

Pilars of democracy: A broadcaster from Radio News Agency 68H (right) speaks to the Indonesian Institute of Science’s political observer Syamsudin Haris (left) and the Regional Representatives Council’s researcher head Haryono during a radio talk on Aug. 6, 2007. Courtesy of Radio News Agency KBR 68H
Ask any radio journalist in Indonesia when they first produced their own news and they will all have the same answer: only after the post-1998 opening up of the press.

“Radio journalism was left behind all other kinds of journalism because radio suffered the most from the repression during the New Order era,” says managing director of news agency KBR 68H Santoso, a former print journalist.
“During the New Order era radios were banned from producing their own news and were obliged to relay the government version of news.
As a consequence they leaned toward entertainment only with music as their mainstay. Even after the press had relative freedom, radio stations had the least capability to produce news.”
This is why after the post-1998 opening up of the press, Santoso and his fellow journalists and activists at the Institute for the Studies on the Free Flow of Information (ISAI) decided to created a radio news agency instead of print news agency even though none of them had any experience in radio journalism.
“I myself had never been a broadcaster until then,” he says, laughing.
Founded as a news agency on April 29, 1999, KBR 68H was created to realize radio’s potential as a force of democracy. It was the first agency outside of state radio to produce a news bulletin, and the first to offer an editorial on air.
“As a public medium, radio is the least expensive investment,” says Heru Hendratmoko, the KBR 68H production director. “We just needed to set up the broadcasting tools in the beginning and people just needed to buy a radio.”
From its humble beginnings, the radio news agency has expanded rapidly in the past 10 years, becoming a network that reaches more than 650 radio stations across the country and is available in 10 countries in Asia and Australia.
From a team of just seven reporters, the station now has more than 120 employees, with around 50 journalists based in Jakarta alone. It also has 100 correspondents across the country and 30 contributors in Asia.
The content has grown also. In its early days, the news agency could produce only 15-minute news
programs each day, each of which consisted of seven to 10 audio files sent to seven radio stations across the country.
However, when the agency started to produce a 30-minute news program in August 1999, they struggled to find an effective way to distribute the program. Internet connections were still too slow and some radio partners needed more than six hours to download the evening program. Some could only broadcast the news the next day.
In Jakarta, the news agency even used ojek (motorcycle taxi) drivers as couriers to send the longer program to its radio partners.
“The Internet was slower even than bikes, unless they have an accident,” said Santoso, who became the agency’s director in 2000.
But if the new technologies of the time weren’t helping, they looked elsewhere: KBR 68H found the answer to the problem in what many radio stations had abandoned during the New Order era: Palapa satellite.
For decades the technology, which the government had launched in the 1970s, had been ignored because radio stations were obliged to broadcast only government programs 18 hours a day.
“The satellite technology suited the country’s archipelagic character but radio stations were under pressure and they never even thought about how to reach a larger audience,” says Heru Hendratmoko. “The technology is there but they never see the opportunity.”
It is ironic, he says, because radio stations in the Philippines have been subscribers to the Palapa channels since the 1970s.
In 2000, KBR 68H started to use the service of Palapa C2 Satellite to distribute its radio programs. With just a parabolic antenna and a digital receiver, the radio station partners could relay the agency’s programs.
Today, the agency has developed a range of news and non-news programs with a total of eight hours of programming a day.
Using the Internet and satellite, the radio news agency can gather and disseminate news, information and educational programming across the country, reaching an estimated 18 million listeners.
Empowering locals: Striving to keep local radio on air, 68H and the Netherlands Embassy build a micro hydro power plant for Radio Pikonane in Anyelma village in Yahukimo, Papua, while also supplying electricity to elementary school, church, goverment building and locals. Courtesy of Radio News Agency KBR 68H
Apart from journalism, the agency also helps to find donors and has set up 40 radio stations in the remote areas, such as a micro-hydro radio in Yahukimo in Papua and Radio Gogali in Central Sumba. The agency also produces and translates books on radio journalism and provides training for local journalists.
“We have a relatively independent press now but at the same time we also face huge inequality in terms of knowledge and facilities,” says Santoso, adding that activities outside journalism were included in the agency’s mission to open access to information to the whole country.
The agency’s work was critical in helping with the post-tsunami relief effort, for which it was presented with a Tsunami Award by the Aceh Art Council. It rebuilt radio stations in Banda Aceh, provided updates about relief operations, ran a missing persons bulletin and conducted a fundraising campaign.
The choice of technology has been proven to be a good decision, as the satellite could reach more than 20 Asia-Pacific countries. To expand their network to neighboring countries, KBR 68H on July 13, 2007, launched a new website for its weekly radio program called Asia Calling. The new Website provides the latest news about countries in the region.
Channeling the voice: Local people gather at Anyelma village during the launching of Radio Pikonane in September 2007. Courtesy of Radio News Agency KBR 68H
This weekly radio program is relayed by more than 140 radio stations in Indonesia and 19 foreign radio stations, including those in Cambodia, East Timor, Thailand, Nepal and Australia. In some radio stations, the program is broadcast in two languages, English and the local language. The agency has also helped start similar networks in East Timor and Nepal.
The KBR 68H also invites many foreign journalists to provide employees with journalism skills and also sends its journalists to participate in training abroad, such as to the Radio Nederland’s Training Centre, Fojo Program in Swedia, the BBC Radio Four or the Center for Investigative Journalism in the Philippines.
The agency’s services have been used by some international radio stations such as Radio Nederland, Deutsche Welle, SBS Australia and the Voice of America.
“The international expansion happened not because of the footprint of the satellite but because of the quality of our news met international requirements,” says Heru Hendratmoko.
The decade of hard work has earned the news agency a range of national and international awards and honors. Journalists and non-journalists at the agency alike can now be proud that they have received no fewer than 21 awards and prizes, including the latest King Baudouin International Development Prize.
The radio news agency received the biannual award on May 19 for its contribution to sustainable development based on the strengthening of democracy, tolerance and citizen participation.
“KBR 68H does this by producing and disseminating qualitative information through a network of local radio stations and by promoting professional ethics in the media world,” said the board of governors of Belgium’s King Baudouin Foundation in their statement.
The prize has been awarded since 1978 with a diverse list of prize winners including Brazilian philosopher Paulo Freire and the Bangladesh Grameen Bank. KBR 68H is the first institution in Southeast Asia and the first media outlet in the world to receive this award, worth 150,000 euro.
“KBR 68H offers radio journalism that turns upside down all the government-owned models of journalism,” says Tasrif Siara, managing director of Palu’s Nebula FM Radio, which has partnered with KBR 68H since the agency was established. “Its reports are very investigative and its features are full of the human touch.”
Within 10 years of its establishment, KBR 68H has changed the character of radio from a very local format to a national and even regional format. It has also systematically introduced a form of radio journalism that was totally banned during the New Order era. Even some local government radios now broadcast its news programs.
“We started from something so simple, so simple that we didn’t even think about the name,” says Santoso. “A journalist later suggested we used the street address of our office and so here we are, using Kantor Berita Radio [radio news agency] 68H because our office is at Jalan Utan Kayu 68H Jakarta.”

Dedicated to puppets

Matheos Viktor Messakh , THE JAKARTA POST , JAKARTA | Fri, 06/26/2009 1:26 PM | Lifestyle

Given that he owes his life to a puppeteer, businessman Rohmad Hadiwijoyo felt it was all he could do to help support the survival of the traditional art of puppetry.

The dalang, or puppeteer, in question is Ki Joko Edan, from whom Rohmad learned the art of puppetry. He followed the dalang wherever he went for six years from the time he finished elementary school until he finished high school. It was the dalang who gave him the last name Hadiwijoyo.
Only after he enrolled at a college in Jakarta in 1985 did Rohmad part from his mentor, but still he stayed in contact from time to time.
Thanks to the value of puppet stories, which Rohmad claim are the key to his success, he has been able to build a traditional Javanese house joglo on a block of land in the sleepy area of Cirendeu in South Jakarta dedicated to those who want to become masters in the art of puppetry.
The 3,400 square meters of land in the valley of the Pesangrahan river, which he bought from another puppetry-loving businessman, cost him Rp 2 billion; he spent another Rp 600 million building the 200-meter-square house and a two-story cottage used mainly as accommodation for people who perform at the joglo.
"When it's about my hobby, everything else comes second," says Rohmad, also a professional puppeteer. "Besides, I was raised by a dalang and I want to do something for all the dalang."
He opened the complex, named Paguyuban Putro Wijoyo Parwo, in March 2006. It is equipped with a modern sound system, two sets of puppetry gamelan worth Rp 400 million and two boxes of classical Javanese puppets. The parking lot and the front yard of the joglo can hold more than 50 cars.
Now, the complex is home to 30 traditional Javanese gamelan players (wiyogo), three Javanese singers (sinden) and two puppeteers (dalang). Most of these people are simple workers: builders, carpenters, small traders. One of the puppeteers is a handyman.
Every Thursday night the 30 members of the paguyuban - a term that loosely translates as "association" or "community" - hold a regular performance, with a rehearsal every Monday night led by senior members for its can-didate puppeteers and gamelan players.
Five young puppeteers and five gamelan players are currently taking lessons at the paguyuban. Some of these young puppeteers have taken part in broader events such as at the national festival of child puppeteers held at Taman Mini Indonesia Indah (TMII) in July last year.
The paguyuban also provides a rehearsal space for 15 puppetry groups of various sizes in South Jakarta, which take turns to perform at the center each month.
Among the 15 puppetry groups in South Jakarta are troupes such as Inarcahya in Ciledug, Nirmala Sari in Cinere and Sanggar Sidodadi in Sawangan.
The monthly performances are part of a puppeteer exchange among the members of the South Jakarta branch of the Indonesian Puppeteers Association (Pepadi).
"Perhaps the puppeteer communities in South Jakarta are the most active puppeteer communities," said Ki Gede Kwatno, a puppeteer at the paguyuban and secretary of the South Jakarta branch of Pepadi.
"We hold a regular exchange of puppeteers and gamelan players to give both small and big groups more opportunities to perform. We offer more options for some of the communities which have a limited gamelan set and even *a limited* stock of puppets."
Kwatno, a handyman, had been part of another group since 1998 but he joined Paguyuban Putro Wijoyo Parwo in 2007 because he feels comfortable with the center's distance from residential areas.
"I used to be part of a group that practiced near a mosque but people used to complain a lot," he said.
As well as providing rehearsal space for puppeteers, the paguyuban is also involved in an array of educational enterprises aimed at fostering and promoting the art of puppetry, such as training workshops for puppeteers, exhibitions of the various kinds of wayang found in Indonesia and wayang performances.
In the past two years, the paguyuban has held five exhibitions, with its most recent a workshop and exhibition of Betawi shadow puppets at TMII in April.
The community also takes part in an annual puppetry festival held in July by the Indonesia Puppeteers Association. Last year, it hosted the festival.
Although some of the young puppeteers who study at the pagu-yuban are students from schools in Jakarta, Reinel Litana, the Pepadi treasurer in Jakarta, said the pagu-yuban would approach international schools in Jakarta to introduce puppetry either as an extracurricular course or even part of the curriculum.
"Six months is all a student needs to be able to become a puppeteer," said Litana, who has been working with Rohmad for six years.
And with the center currently in use only a few days a week, Litana encourages other groups to use the place for rehearsals.
"They just need to tell us to put their name on the list and we will arrange the schedule," he said.

Where have all the mailboxes gone?

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , JAKARTA | Tue, 06/23/2009 12:24 PM | Lifestyle
A good example: A mailbox in front of Le Meridien hotel in Jl. Sudirman, Central Jakarta. (JP/Matheos V. Messakh)

Post offices are not dead, but why is it getting harder and harder to find mailboxes in Jakarta? 

Blame it on vandalism, but then consider that ATMs haven’t met the same fate; blame it on the Internet and cell phones, and you’ll find not all kinds of letters and documents can be sent through these latest technologies.

Although the Internet and cell phones have become so dominant in this era of communication, people still send letters — applying for jobs through handwritten or printed letters, sending and receiving bank documents, settling problems of debts and receivables through printed letters.

The number of mailboxes in Central Jakarta has been on the decline over time, down to 52 this year from 110 in 2006.

Many mailboxes are removed because they are regarded as being ineffective, says Asep Saiful Uyun, assistant technical and equipment manager at the Central Jakarta Post Office.

“I think the existing number of mailboxes represents the post figure and public need,” says the man responsible for the procurement and maintenance of mailboxes.
“Some addresses only get two to three pieces of mail a week, so they don’t warrant the operational cost to pick up the letter and the maintenance cost.”

Uyun says vandalism is also one of the main reason mailboxes are removed.

“Vandals put anything in the mailboxes, including firecrackers or water. They even break the keys.”

He adds the post office still has to remove mailboxes considered very unproductive.

“People tend to use phones or email to sent documents. Although we still need to provide a mail delivery service, it’s not as much as before,” says Uyun.

The 52 mailboxes in Central Jakarta are located mostly along the main thoroughfares of Jl. Gajah Mada, Jl. Juanda, Jl. K.H. Hasyim Ashari, Jl. Gunung Sahari, Jl. Matraman and Jl. Diponegoro, as well as near local post offices.

“The most used mailboxes are those in the shopping centers and [traditional] markets and office areas,” says Darmawan, assistant mailbox and stamping manager at the Central Jakarta Post Office.

Working or not?: A poorly shaped mailbox at Jl. Palmerah Barat in West Jakarta. (JP/Matheos V. Messakh)
“People are also more confident about putting their letters in mailboxes near or in front of a post office because they believe the postmen will get them. A few also prefer to put their letters in the nearest mailboxes to the post office, because they might not have time to queue at the post office,” he said.

While the Central Jakarta Post Office’s delivery center has 286 employees and supervisors to serve customers, as well as 202 postmen, only six couriers are assigned to check mailboxes along the main roads once a day from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., while mailboxes near local post offices are checked two to three times a day.

The six officers are also assigned to collect mail and packages in 45 local post offices around Central Jakarta, as well as from mobile post offices, post office extension counters and post office agents.

Many couriers, says Darmawan, complain about the construction of public facilities that pay no attention to their job, such as the construction of a busway lane on Jl. Pejambon, which prevents couriers from getting to the mailbox at the Foreign Ministry, or the construction of a bus stop in front of some mailboxes in Matraman.
“People don’t know there are mailboxes behind the bus stop,” he says.
Darmawan add he has no current data on the volume of mail posted through mailboxes, but data from Augustus to September 2008 shows about 200 to 300 letters were posted through mailboxes each day.
He says people no longer rely too much on mailboxes, since the post office offers various other mail delivery services, such as mobile post offices, post office extension counters and post office agents that all feature extending working hours.

The Central Jakarta Post Office has 45 local branch offices, 17 mobile post offices, eight extension counters and 10 post office agents.

Jakarta itself has 189 local post offices, with 48 in Central Jakarta, 40 in West Jakarta, 41 in South Jakarta, 40 in East Jakarta and 20 in North Jakarta.

Herri Waskita, head of the Central Jakarta Post Office’s delivery center, says although the number of personal letters passing through the post office have been tailing off over the past decade, the number of corporate correspondence such as billing statements, credit card bills, utilities bills and account statements is on the rise.

This is why the post office is still alive and kicking, and courier services continue to increase over time. The Central Jakarta Post Office has detected around 15 courier services frequently used to send or pick up letters or packages.

The lack of public attention toward mailboxes, Herri says, is because people need assurance their mail will be picked up and deliver in a timely manner.
“Mailboxes represent an ordinary service, and there is no way for people to trace their letters. They fear their letters could stay lost in the system forever or thrown away somewhere,” he says.

“That’s why for fast delivery, people need to go the post office. They need to know their letters will be arrived at the right time.”

— Photos By Matheos V. Messakh

A night at the movies ... at home

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , Jakarta | Sat, 06/20/2009 12:12 PM | Lifestyle

Going to the movies is one of the most popular forms of entertainment around, whether for families, dating couples or young professionals seeking escape from workplace stress.

But the cinema has its limitations - the hassle getting there, the rigid schedules, the limited choice. And now, with technological leaps for home entertainment units, it also has a serious competitor: The living room.
Sandy, who runs and owns a shop in Mangga Dua Mall in Central Jakarta, has embraced the growing trend for Jakartans to dedicate a room in their house to movie watching.
About 18 months ago, the 29-year-old single guy had a home cinema installed in his apartment.
"I don't have to queue for a ticket, look for a parking spot, and I can watch my favorite movie any time I want," Sandy says.
Sandy and his friends can sit back and relax in their choice of four big seats and watch movies projected by a Blu-ray player onto a 101-inch screen.
"I know that a home theater can never really replace a real theater but at least a home theater set gives you a kind of ease. It's much better for me than going to the movies," says Sandy, who splashed out with more than Rp 50 million (US$4,800) on equipment for the room.
While not all movie lovers are taking their recreation to the same extreme, retailers and analysts agree that the home entertainment market is booming. Hollywood-style screening rooms are becoming increasingly common.
According to Electronic Marketer Club (EMC), which tracks retail electronics sales, the number of home theater packages sold in Indonesia rose from about 31,379 units in 2006 to 84,405 units in 2008; already by April this year 29,716 units had been sold.
"People want to bring the sight and sound of movie theaters to their home," says EMC chairman Iffan Suryanto.
Although there are a variety of home cinema theater systems designed to please the most demanding viewers offering many extra digital devices, the basic home theater components will include video displays, a digital surround sound system and DVD player or video source.
In the past, a home system was well out of reach for the ordinary family on a tight budget. While prices for top-of-the-range systems might still have some jaws dropping, new products coming out all the time mean movie lovers can now find something to suit their taste and budget.
In general, there are two kinds of home theater system: a high-quality home theater and home theater in a box (HTiB).
High-quality home cinemas are assembled from components purchased separately to provide the best combination of equipment for the price. An HTiB is a basic all-in-one unit that includes a DVD player, audio amplifier and surround sound speakers with a powered subwoofer to pick up the bass.
"Those who really want to bring the feel of the theater into their home usually choose their components separately and have them fitted together," says deputy editor of Audio Video magazine Budi Santoso. "This brings out more detail in terms of sound and visuals."
Those who find the task of putting together a home theater system from separate components too arduous can get HTiB - a whole package at once - and be confident that it works.
Packages include an audio/video receiver along with enough speakers so viewers can properly enjoy the surround sound that is part of most DVD and HDTV broadcasts. A home theater system can also include a DVD player, either integrated with the AV receiver or as a separate component. A few also include high-definition Blu-ray players.
Basic HTiB units are available for anywhere from Rp 1 to 3 million, and the more elaborate the system the higher the price tag. A high-quality HTiB can cost more than Rp 10 million.
Sales of HTiB units have boomed over the past four years, according to Iffan Suryanto, who is also general manager of PT. Sharp Electronic Indonesia. "The most wanted segments are the units in the price range of one to one and a half million rupiah," he said.
High-end packages - which are made up of at least a 5.1 speaker, AV receiver and DVD player or Blu-ray player - started about Rp 50 million.
As it is important for the dedicated room to be of a decent size and soundproof, some customers choose to hire an acoustic designer to ensure they get the ultimate home entertainment experience, Budi says.
According to estimates by researcher Dini Wirastri, the average Indonesian family spends nearly Rp 3 million on a television, DVD player and sound system.
But there are plenty of big spenders around too, buying front, center and surround speakers with prices heading toward the Rp 80 million mark, or rear projectors that range from Rp 8 million to Rp 40 million, or large plasma televisions, which can sell for more than Rp 15 million.
"High-end shoppers prefer LCD to plasma screen TVs," says Wirastri, adding that Blu-ray players, which are currently all the rage, can be bought for Rp 12 million.
Wirastri said the demand for home cinemas was "going crazy" and fit-outs worth Rp 1 to 2 billion were not uncommon.
Mee Kim, a company director from Pondok Indah, South Jakarta, had a Rp 500 million home theater built into her home three years ago.
"You have a limited choice of movies with the movie theaters here in Jakarta," she says. "With a home theater I can watch my favorite movie anytime, invite our close friends, or even my colleagues at my company to have karaoke."
Doharto Simatupang, a multimedia observer, says he believes the move toward home theater systems reflects a wider social trend of people wanting to spend more time in the comfort of their homes.
"People aren't running away from the outside world, but they're saying home is the nicest place to be," he said.
Some might view purchasing a home theater system as an extravagance, but others would argue that with all their hard work, they deserve something that will enhance their home and the time spent in it - especially those who love the movies.
"It's really a kind of hobby," says Sandy. "If it isn't a hobby, people won't spend millions or even billions just to get the movie theater experience at home."

A gift for all seasons

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , JAKARTA | Fri, 06/12/2009 1:36 PM | Lifestyle
Gift boxes from Attila Ethnique (JP/Matheos V. Messakh)
Whatever direction the world economy goes and whatever the time of year, people will keep on getting married. And in Indonesia, wherever there is a bride and a groom, there is also a seserahan – or wedding gift package.

The tradition of the seserahan – a gift from the groom to his bride before the wedding – is practiced across the country, although with some regional variations. And like most once-in-a-lifetime experiences (well, for some it happens more than once, but not on too regular a basis), it is important to get it right.
The groom’s family and neighbors are traditionally the ones who put together the gift – a box or boxes containing clothes or other items. But the fact is not everyone has the necessary artistic touch or knowledge of how to best arrange the items in a wedding gift package to bring – and not everyone has the time to do it right.
Put all these factors together and this aspect of traditional culture translates to a healthy commercial prospect. The wedding gift business is flourishing, even though those who are willing and able – or with more time than money – can buy their boxes and baskets from Cikini market in Central Jakarta for few thousand rupiah and arrange their seserahan themselves.

Attila Sawir, a single mother in Pondok Labu, South Jakarta, started her wedding gift business in a rented room in Yogyakarta in 1987, when she was just a university student. She then moved her business to Jakarta one year after she got married in 1993.
Attila started out by selling artificial flowers and scented candles under the brand name Attila Collection. But by 2000, Attila’s business was concentrating on wedding-related gifts.

“I started to shift my business when a customer asked me to decorate some pre-wedding boxes for him, and obviously he liked the decoration,” Attila said. “Over time I found that the business was good, and at the moment providing and decorating pre-wedding boxes is my main business.”

Attila now has 13 employees dedicated to helping her create and decorate boxes. She has also involved some neighborhood youth organizations in helping her make wedding souvenirs.

Among Attila’s products are various kinds of boxes and baskets made from wood, cardboard, paper or woven materials. Prices range from Rp 35,000 to Rp 375,000. The most popular products are the boxes in the Rp 35,000–Rp 65,000 range.

“We provide boxes with the size fit to the size and shape of the gifts but the customers tend to prefer boxes made from cardboard and paper because they are quite cheap and can be reused,” said Attila, adding that wooden boxes are the least popular because they are expensive, heavy and take up more space.
“Cardboard boxes are lighter to carry and lighter for the customer’s pocket,” she said, laughing.
Attila said that, with about 30 to 40 customers a month, her business generally had a monthly income of up to Rp 50 million.
“Weddings know no season during the year,” said Attila, who has also opened a shop especially to sell wedding souvenirs.

The number of boxes requested also varies, depending on the relationship between the families of the bride and the groom or depending on their financial situation.

“The better they know each other and the surer they are about the prospect of the wedding, the greater the number of boxes they get. Perhaps they have no hesitation about giving something valuable,” said Attila, who has had orders ranging from only three boxes to up to 30 boxes.

Istje Souvenir (JP/Matheos V. Messakh)
The decoration of boxes can take a few days, but with her team, Attila can sometimes take urgent orders, as long as the order does not hold up the delivery of previous orders.

Another woman who has made a business out of the tradition is Siti Aisyah. An employee of an airport cargo company, Siti started her business as a side business in her home in Pasar Baru, Central Jakarta, soon after she got married in 2005.

Dissatisfied with the quality of the packaging of pre-wedding gifts, which she described as “usually incompatible with the wedding dresses and party’s spirit”, she designed her own wedding packages, which have become a leader among available wedding-related gifts.

Expanding on the notion of boxes designed for pre-wedding gifts, her cottage industry, operating under the name Istje Souvenir, now offers a service providing and decorating boxes for pre-wedding gifts, dowries, wedding rings and wedding souvenirs.

Istje Souvenir adds another twist, not only selling the decorated boxes but also renting them out. It costs Rp 125,000 to rent a plywood box and Rp 200,000 to buy one. Wooden boxes are Rp 175,000 and Rp. 250,000 to buy, and brocade boxes are Rp 225,000 to rent and Rp 300,000 to buy.

With her team of five workers – her husband, her mother and brothers – Siti can finish an order in two weeks. Urgent orders are accepted only if they do not affect waiting orders.
Siti Aisyah, owner of Istje Souvenir (JP/Matheos V. Messakh)
Siti, who is open on weekends and by appointment, said most customers choose either plywood boxes covered with a traditional mat made from pandanus thorns or plywood-Styrofoam boxes covered with brocade, with price being an important deciding factor. Wooden boxes are rarely requested because of the expense.
However, unlike Attila Collection, Istje Souvenir provides boxes for pre-wedding gifts in one size only – 45 x 35 centimeters.

“What people need is actually decoration and decoration needs space. That’s why we use big boxes – to allow us to show off the beauty of the gift,” she said.

Although she says that the diversity of the shapes and designs are the selling points of her products, Siti said she usually advises her customers not to expect too much from some materials; for example, some traditional woven fabrics or silk cannot be folded in certain shapes as that would harm the fabrics.

With between five and 10 customers a month, the average number of boxes ordered ranges from 12 to 17, which gives Siti a monthly income of up to Rp 12 million a month.

Unlike Attila, Istje Collection does have a peak season – June, July and after the fasting month – and a low season in February and March.

Yet another pre-wedding gift package designer, targeting middle and upper class families, is The House of Seserahan. Like the other businesses, The House of Seserahan began out of home, started up in January 2008 by retiree Sylvia Hasan and her husband in their house in Cempaka Putih, Central Jakarta.

The 59-year-old woman said the business started from her hobby helping relatives and friends decorate their boxes – a hobby she began when she was young.

“For decades we did it for free, but my daughter opened up our minds and persuaded us to do it for business,” she said.

Unlike the other vendors, The House of Seserahan targets only middle- and high-income families.
Therefore, they provide only wooden boxes, which are considered be less wasteful and are more durable than cardboard boxes.

“We chose this middle segment because we can easily move up or down,” she said. “We believe that there are always people who want something special for their special day.”

Where the other vendors cover the top of their boxes with transparent mica, Sylvia uses only acrylic for the cover. “Glass materials are heavy. Mica is light but easily scratched. The acrylic is quite expensive but lighter and stylish,” she said.
Thanks to the family’s interior design business, which they have run for years, they have all the necessary skills to design elegant luxury wooden boxes. With six workers and her husband as the box designer, they produce boxes in various sizes and styles, covered with suede, leather, paper and mica.

Sylvia is responsible for putting the final decorative touches on the boxes, with beautiful fresh, dried or artificial flowers and various ornaments.

“We have for the highest standard of box, but we also want the customer to get what they really want. Which is why we have a consultation first, which is never less than one hour long,” said Sylvia.
“People might buy an expensive product but that doesn’t always mean that they get what they want.”
Prices for boxes sold by The House of Seserahan range from Rp 200,000 to Rp 600,000 depending on size and materials. They are available for hire from Rp 125,000 to Rp 200,000.

The best-sellers are the boxes priced between Rp 350,000 and Rp 400,000. Boxes priced between Rp 150,000 and Rp 200,000 are most popular for rental.

“There is a balance in the number of the people who want to buy and the people who want to hire,” Sylvia said, adding that she has at least four customers a month, which gives her an average monthly income of up to Rp 30 million.

As Sylvia has taken her business online, she said she experiences no “wedding” season. “A bad month to hold a wedding for some people and cultures is a good month for others.”

The House of Seserahan
Jl. Cempaka Putih Timur IV/17
Jakarta 10510
Tel: (021) 424 6539

Istje Souvenir
Jl. Pasar Baru Selatan 20
Jakarta 10710
Tel: (021) 6890 0054
http://istjecollection.multiply.com/

Attila Ethnique
Jl. Lebak Bulus III/21
Cilandak
Tel: (021) 7062 5250

Cold hard cash can be pretty too

Fri, 06/12/2009 2:44 PM | Lifestyle

For a groom to give his prospective bride a gift or dowry, such as cash, gold or a praying rug and veil, is a traditional custom in Indonesia.

But whereas pieces of gold or a praying rug and veil set can be placed nicely in antique boxes, demanding relatively little skill, giving money has become an art - in the sense of a craft.
For a groom to offer his bride cold hard cash as the present does not have to be boring, with many vendors now offering grooms a distinctive service: Fashion their cash into shapes such as a dozen roses, butterflies, an eagle, a mosque, a traditional wedding couple, a peacock, a marine scene, a traditional ship or a traditional house.
"Ship and houses are the most popular models especially among people from Sulawesi and Sumatra because they symbolize a long-lasting journey and a home for the family, but sometimes customers want something extraordinary such as a police officer wanted me to make the police logo out of his money," said Sylvia Hasan, the owner of The House of Seserahan.
The bills are folded and arranged in an origami-type style in a two- or three-dimensional frame. Within the frame, alongside the folded cash, may be additional ornaments to help bring out the shape. An aquarium scene might include some sea shells, for example.
The amount of money a man might give as a gift can range from just a few thousand rupiah to millions. The amount of money usually represents the wedding date or another date special to the couple.
If cash denominations don't fit the date, artisans look for obsolete bills, which are available at some traditional markets or from the central bank. But, Sylvia said, old money is easily torn and can generally only be put in the frame without much folding.
Where there is a large sum of money, artisans may advise the customer to use only the small bills for the money art, with the rest simply placed in the frame.
"If they want the gift to be memorable, we usually advise them to use only small notes so *the gift* doesn't have to be pulled apart after the wedding. And large amounts of money in a frame could invite criminals," added Attila Sawir, who was once asked to make a traditional house of the Minang people, rumah gadang, from Rp 25 million in cash.
Foreign currencies are also used. "People from Sulawesi tend to have money from Arab regions such as riyals or dinars, but a few times I have had grooms bring all kinds of money, saying they wanted to travel to all the countries the money comes from," said Siti Aisyah, the owner of Istje Souvenir.
As the money-folding skill is a rare one, prices for the service are higher than for other pre-wedding gifts.
Attila Collection, for example, charges from Rp 100,000 to 350,000 for arranging money in a frame. The House of Seserahan charges between Rp 550,000 and Rp 600,000 for a two-dimensional construction and between Rp 1 million and Rp 1.5 million for three dimensions.
- JP/Matheos V. Messakh

The naming of streets is a difficult matter

The Jakarta Post | Tue, 06/02/2009 11:14 AM | Features

Streets are given names and buildings are assigned numbers so they can be easily located, but what might appear a simple task has long been a major problem in Jakarta.
The lack of a coherent system for naming streets, first noted by academic Boejoeng Saleh in 1953, reflects the unplanned nature of Jakarta’s urban development.
It was not until September 1974, two decades after he raised the issue, that a gubernatorial decree on numbering streets, gardens and public buildings was issued. In 1976 another gubernatorial decree on the matter was issued.
Saleh noted that the only kind of system to be found is the naming and numbering of smaller streets after the main street they connect to. For example, the side streets coming off Kramat are named Kramat 1 to 8.
In Tanjung Priok, one even finds Lorong (path or alley) 1 to Lorong 104. An exception to this is the area near the Halim Perdana Kusuma military airport, where the streets are named after different types of aircraft: Bomber, Dakota, Ilyusin, Mustang and Hercules.
The same name sometimes appears in different places; for instance, there are several occurrences of Jalan Anggrek, Dahlia, Asem and Madrasah.
After Independence, all Dutch names were replaced. Those loaded with political meanings were changed to reflect Indonesian national history. Thus the Orangeboulevard became Jalan Diponegoro, Van Heutszboulevard became Jalan Teuku Umar, and so on.
Numbering houses is yet another matter. In August 1957, the Jakarta government issued a bylaw that stipulated that buildings must be numbered, and that house owners or building occupants were required to put a nameplate on the building.
A gubernatorial degree in 1976 that replaced the 1957 regulation only stipulated an obligation to assign number plates of a similar shape, color and size for every building in the city, but overruled the obligation for building owners or occupants to put their name on the building. The stated reason for this was “to prevent negative impact or things that will harm the owners or occupants”.
The most recent regulation on house numbering – a bylaw issued in 1986 – states that a house’s number plate must be blue, with the number in white. The regulation size for a one-digit street number is 7 x 11 centimeters, for a two-digit number is 7 x 16 centimeters and 7 x 22 centimeters for a three-digit number.
The regulation also says that failure to assign a proper number to a house is a criminal offense, but there is no record of anybody in Jakarta ever being jailed or fined over the matter.
– JP/Matheos V. Messakh

Where the streets have no name

Matheos Viktor Messakh , The Jakarta Post , Jakarta | Tue, 06/02/2009 11:04 AM | Features

JP/P.J. Leo
“Take a right, then look for the small green mosque – there is a big mango tree to the left of the mosque; take the next right after that and count six houses on the left.”
Anyone who has ever had to find an address in Jakarta will be familiar with directions like these, especially when they find themselves lost on strange streets, needing to send out an emergency call to a friend or their destination, or stopping to ask people on the street for help.
Think how awkward it would be if that all-important mango tree had been cut down.
You don’t have to live in Jakarta for long to learn how slow and painful it can be to locate a building just from the street address given. Even people who have lived in Jakarta for years can be frustrated by the confusion that arises from the apparently simple task of finding a particular street address.
But perhaps because each time we are faced with this annoyance we deal with it and move on, we get used to it as part of life in the city and never really complain about it, or give it much thought past the initial frustration.
Even the city authorities have apparently never seriously considered the value of naming streets and numbering houses.
But in practice it is not quite as simple as it might seem – naming city streets and numbering buildings has been a tricky business since the early years of the nation’s independence.
Even though a number of regulations have been issued over the years in a bid to impose order on the city’s streets, these ordinances have rarely been implemented.
“It’s hard to apply these regulations,” says Maulizar, the head of research and development at the city’s legal affairs division. “Almost everybody is an offender, including even me, perhaps. Many people have made their own number plate for their house or even decided their own house number.”
The radical step of renaming streets and assigning new numbers to houses, Maulizar points out, would be met with a loud public outcry, as it would require people to change many of their business and legal documents.
Further confusing the issue is the series of structural changes in local government bodies and agencies, especially the most recent changes that took place at the end of last year and which have led to confusion over just which agencies or bodies are responsible for the issue.
The relevant regulations mention that, under the new structure, an ad hoc body is to be established that will be responsible for the matter, but although committees had been appointed in the past, the ad hoc committee has not yet been reappointed, says Maulizar, adding that no other institution can be really held responsible.
“If necessary, the government should change the regulations on naming streets and numbering houses,” he adds. And what is needed is a decent database.
“If we had a complete database on the names of streets and their classifications, it would become a reference for further development,” Maulizar says. “We possibly do have some documents on the names of streets but they are scattered among different city agencies.”
The most recent regulation on numbering houses was issued in 1986, and the most recent regulation on naming streets was issued in 1999.
The 1986 bylaw stipulates that numbers must be allotted to each plot on the side of the road, with odd numbers on the left side of the road and even numbers on the right. Numbering is to begin from the end of the street closest to the National Monument.
The 1999 gubernatorial decree, which more or less repeated the content of the regulations for a similar decree issued in 1976, stipulates that the naming and renaming of streets is the job of the local provincial or city government. Members of the public can also propose streets be named or renamed.
The decree also states that the local government is responsible for the repair and maintenance of street signs when necessary because of accidental damage, vandalism or normal wear and tear.
However, the practice of naming streets in Jakarta and especially numbering buildings has never really taken these ordinances into account, despite a 1986 bylaw stating that failure to number a house is a criminal offense punishable by three months in jail or a fine of Rp 750,000.
Quite simply, in some places in Jakarta, street names do not exist. Some streets may officially have a name, but it is unknown because there is no sign at the intersection, or because the sign has been overrun by advertising.
Even where there are signs, some serve as little more than decoration, as nobody is able to use the street name for delivering mail, serving notices or simply giving directions.
In the tangled web of Jakarta streets, there are several streets with the same name, or several names for the same street. Houses in the same street may be numbered quite randomly, if only because residents choose their own house number without consulting any authority; in this case, the doubling up of numbers in the same street is unavoidable.
Not surprisingly, this causes headaches for people whose life revolves around finding streets.
“Imagine if you have passed a number in a one-way street and you have to turn back,” says Supriyadi, a post office courier in Central Jakarta.
Iwan Kurniawan, the head of the city planning, development and restoration division, confesses there is no system for naming streets and numbering houses.
“Perhaps because the effect of the street names and house numbers is invisible, it has never become a priority,” said Kurniawan, who nevertheless admits to having had trouble with duplicated house numbers.
It causes a dilemma: Reorganizing street names and building numbers in Jakarta would probably result in nothing less than a riot, but on a day-to-day level, it is a serious source of annoyance.
At the heart of the mess and stress of what should be a simple matter – finding a street address – lie a chaotic spatial development framework and ignorance of local authorities.
And it is, it appears, just part of life in Jakarta. The confusion with Jakarta addresses is the result of the city’s history, says urban sociologist Jo Santoso. It is impossible, he says, to have a single and coherent procedure for naming and numbering streets in such an old city.
“Jakarta has multiple systems for naming and numbering the streets,” he says. “The best thing to do is have a map or rely on postcodes.”