Being traditional

Food is something virtually everyone can be easily traditional about. At least, that’s what I observe.

In Indonesia, despite the constant barrage of foreign influences, we still can retain our traditions to some extent. Even though traditional arts are no longer widely embraced, Indonesians – including the modern ones – still love eating fried rice, sambal, soto, tempe and the likes, we still love our chillies and other spices. Despite the modernisation, despite the cultural cringe, traditional foods are still our comfort foods

In the United States, thanks to the genocides, its indigenous people have been reduced to a tiny minority. Ten million people with indigenous lineage aren’t much when they form about three percent of the country’s total population; not to mention only four percent of them still speak their ancestral languages regularly and fluently.

I don’t know how much they eat traditional foods in their daily lives. But, the indigenous influences (along with the west African ones, mind you) are still prevalent among many classic United States dishes. Without them, Americans would not eat cornmeal-based dishes like cornbread and hush puppy and they definitely would not eat ingredients like turkey, blueberries and cranberries.

From all aspects of cultures, foods seem to be the among the most resilient. I attribute them to being one of mankind’s basic needs. Between foods and the arts, the latter is the one which humans can physically survive without.

But, I don’t understand the obsession with “traditional values”.

For one, how do we know they are even “traditional”? How do we know they are not results of our misunderstanding (or dishonest perception) of the past?

In the American context, conservatives love to pretend their country was founded as a Christian one, even though the literal first sentence of the first amendment calls for the separation of church and state; when they cite the first amendment, they always conveniently skip to the second sentence (which itself is about freedom of religion, not about establishing a theocracy).

Even if we accept they are 100% traditional, I still don’t see the purpose.

Here’s something that is isn’t obvious to some of us: some values deserve to be left behind.

If a value demands us to be dismissive of anything simply because they are “foreign”, prevent girls from getting education, filter out any new knowledge because it is deemed “blasphemous” or see people of other ethnicities, races and religions as subhumans, then it deserves to be left behind. Any reasonable minds won’t tolerate such things.

I also notice something interesting about those “traditional value” people: values are the only “traditional” things they embrace.

With some exceptions to certain places, they have very “modern” outward appearances. They no longer wear traditional outfits in their day-to-day lives, they wear tees and denims. Their languages are often full of unnecessary loanwords. They also don’t have any interests about preserving their tangible and intangible ancestral heritages; in fact, they think such endeavour is a waste of time.

While I admittedly don’t have good examples of this, I do believe you can embrace “modern” values while still embracing your ancestral heritage.

I mean, use your common sense.

I am an Indonesian and I am “modern” compared to many Indonesians I know. But, does that mean I vomit every time I eat traditional dishes? Bleed profusely through my ears every time I hear gamelan and angklung? Spontaneously combust every time I put on a batik shirt? Obviously, the answer is no, no and no.

Older aesthetics feels conservative NOT because it inherently is, but because our minds associate it with conservatism. It is a connotation. It is definitely flexible and arbitrary.

I am clearly not a fan of embracing traditional values just for the sake of it and not contemplating about their benefits and drawbacks. If you believe that’s the life path for you, power to you.

But, if values are the only traditional things you embrace, then you are in a massive disadvantage.

No matter how anti-progress you are, if you are still in tune with your ancestral heritage, you still can stick out. You still have genuinely unique cultural things to offer on the global stage.

But, if you are traditional while adorned in modern aesthetics? Not only you are left behind from even the most beneficial changes, you are also very culturally invisible. Why should anyone take interest in you when you are both close-minded and culturally uninteresting?

Ideally (I am sure you could see it coming), I believe the good balance should be having “modern” values and traditional aesthetics at the same time. You can enjoy the progresses….. while staying afloat amidst the increasingly strong waves of cultural globalisation.

If you agree with me and you want to achieve such societal goal, it is not enough to have an educational system that goes beyond rote learning, has well-trained and well-paid teachers and has well-rounded curriculum (having a balance of STEM, social sciences, humanities and practical skills like home economics, first aid and finance AKA both the useful and the so-called “useless” knowledge).

Traditional arts and knowledge (e.g. folktales, myths) should be mandatorily taught; if they are only included in electives or extracurricular activities, it sends a message that getting in touch with one’s heritage is optional, that one’s heritage is just a mere hobby and potentially a waste of time.

You need to expose the masses to their ancestral heritage as much as possible.

Obviously, I am talking about strict categorisations which rarely apply to real life. Humans are full of shades of grey; it is very hard to find people who are 100% this or that.

But, I still rant about it because I have encounbtered so many fellow Indonesians who quickly dismiss new ideas….. simply because they are “un-Indonesian”, forgetting they themselves wear denims and tees, listen to western-style pop songs and watch Hollywood flicks.

I guess, if I have to be fair to them, they have been exposed to western aesthetics all of their lives. It is already a part of their identities, a part of their mundane lives, which means it rarely challenges their existing worldview, if ever.

But, the lack of self-awareness is still infuriating.

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Admittedly, I have my own definition of “modern”. While it is generally synonymous with anything brand new, I prefer to define it as “culturally and socially sustainable”.

When I choose which values to embrace, I don’t give a damn about how old or new they are, how “Islamic”, “Indonesian” or “western” they are. I don’t care about their “identities”.

What I care about is whether they benefit us in the long run and not biting our asses in the future. That’s what the word “modern” means to me.

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That’s not how you preserve traditions (and treat your own family)

As an Indonesian, I rarely watch Indonesian films voluntarily. So, the fact that I decided to watch this newly-released feature is a rarity.

Ngeri-Ngeri Sedap (I still don’t know how to translate the title) tells the story of a fractured Batak family; the parents struggle to persuade their university-educated adult sons return home after years. They cannot stand their cold, headstrong father who disapprove of their life decisions.

One of them wants to marry a woman from another ethnic group, one becomes a TV comedian instead of a law practitioner and the youngest child isn’t interested returning home for good, even though tradition calls for it.

Desperate, the parents pretend they are going to divorce, which would compel the sons to return home and talk their mom and dad out of it. The plan works. But, the moment they saw their father, the atmosphere immediately thickens and it will get even worse from here.

The film is not that great, execution wise. The dialogues are full of info dumps, the cinematography fails to capture the beauty of rural North Sumatra (I have visited Lake Toba and I know how ethereally beautiful it is), the crying scene is unintentionally funny, the emotions could have been more intense and the conflict resolves a bit too quickly.

But, the film does have some gems in it.

While I cannot verify the authenticity of the Batak life depiction as I am not a Batak, I adore how it does not use a regional and/or ethnic identity as a punchline or a token, as the common practice in a country where media productions mostly centered in one snobby, cosmopolitan city.

I also love that it is written and directed by an actual Batak filmmaker and most of the main cast members are of Batak lineage; the ones who aren’t grew up surrounded by Batak people. It is refreshing how a film about a certain culture is made by people who have experiences with it.

But, that’s not even the best part: it is also a giant middle finger to “traditional” parenting and toxic loyalty to family.

The father loves accusing his sons of selfishness, even though he is the one who makes everything about himself. The sons always look uneasy and awkward in his presence. The comedian son loves making spiteful comments, even saying that his family is a joke, something to be laugh at. Even though the mother is just as traditional, she openly disapproves how her husband behaves.

It becomes so toxic, not only his sons depart angrily, his wife ends up wanting to divorce for real and the daughter – I forgot to mention the family has a daughter – leaves with her as well.

It also has unexpected commentaries about gender.

When the daughter asked why her brothers seem awkward with each other, the eldest son said their father was always aloof towards his sons, hence their inability to be warm towards other men.

She is also a testament that girls and women often have to sacrifice the most in a patriarchal society. She had to break a romantic relationship because the man was a non-Batak and she gave up her dream as a chef – her cooking talent has been shown from the very beginning – because the father thinks it is not a real job.

She could have easily rebelled. But, if she does, she would severe ties with her elderly parents and no one would take care of them.

The grandma – the father’s mother – is unbelievably wise. She gently points out that different children require different parenting style. You shouldn’t raise university-educated children like you raise ones who didn’t finish middle school, she says.

Okay, maybe not that wise. Surely, you deserve your parents’ warmth regardless of your educational level; I don’t see how dropping out of school makes you less of a human being with feelings.

But, as problematic as her advice is, her point about there is no one correct way to raise children still stands.

The daughter and grandma also represent the gender situation in Indonesia. While the film barely focuses on either character, they add depth to the story. Men are at the forefront with women supporting them behind the scenes.

What I love about the ending is the father finally and sincerely realises his mistakes and tries to amend his mistakes.

He makes a surprise appearance at his comedian son’s TV show which is shot in Jakarta, asserting he is not proud of his son’s success. Why? Because it is his son’s, not his. He has no right to take credit for it.

He visits his other son’s non-Batak lover in West Java and, much to his surprise, she is interested in learning Batak traditions. As a rural dweller, he seems unaware that many urban Indonesians have experiences traversing different cultures; dealing with other regional Indonesian cultures is a mundane task for them.

His visits his youngest son’s boss in Jogjakarta and he learns that his son helps the local farmers – a vulnerable group of people – increasing their agricultural yield, practically making their lives better.

After he gains his sons’ sincere forgiveness (which is what their mother desires), the family reunites.

I love how the film asserts that a family’s unity cannot be achieved unless every member – including the parents – makes their best efforts. In this case, the family reunites after the father finally leaves his bubble, both in literal and figurative sense.

Literally as in he leaves his rural homeland and travels to three different provinces, none of which are in Sumatra. Figuratively as in he leaves the world where views like his are king and enter one with greater diversity of thoughts.

I also love how the film is not anti-tradition. The traditional festival is depicted respectfully (or so it seems), the sons still love Batak food and the soundtracks feature Batak-language songs.

It is not about whether we should preserve traditions or not, it is more about HOW we do it. It is a cautionary tale of how tactlessness will tear your family apart and putting your beloved heritage in even greater risk of extinction.

And, in a rare moment, I feel proud of my fellow countrymen. I don’t know what the haters have to say about the film. But, I have seen so many positive comments online; many feel their negative experiences with traditional parents and/or husbands are validated.

I am glad such Indonesian film exists.

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A tangent about religion:

Indonesia is a place where religiosity is held with high regards, regardless of one’s ethnic and religious backgrounds. The film not-so-subtly hints at that fact.

The family’s house has a quite a few Christian-themed ornaments (if I can call them that), like the cross and pictures of Jesus Christ. There is a moment of brief close-up on a knitted(?) The Last Supper picture and the parents’ bed are often filmed using wide shot, ensuring the overhead cross is seen as well.

They also respect the local pastor. The father wants to impress him by putting a pristine mask on his marriage. The sons also ask him to discourage their parents from divorcing, even though his advice is the same as theirs.

Oh, and in the beginning of the film, one of the sons explicitly say, “we are Christians”.

While religion is not focused on, the film makes sure we don’t forget about its existence.

I wonder how much of the conservative attitude is attributed to their religious beliefs.

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