aNERDspective 11 – Nurdiyansah Dalidjo
Nurdiyansah Dalidjo’s latest book Rumah di Tanah Rempah against a Lasemese batik
Nurdiyansah Dalidjo is a multi-disciplinary writer and a keen textile advocate. Diyan embarked on a four-year journey through the Indonesian archipelago to seek an understanding of the role of spices as the ingredients that fuelled Indonesia’s revolution. He then wrote a book, Rumah di Tanah Rempah (A Home on The Lands of Spices), to retell his encounter along the road and his attempt in giving a meaning to “home”.
In this episode of aNERDspective (our NERD talk show where we converse with amazing friends about their textile adventure and perspectives), we talked to Diyan about his latest book as we dig for more details about his knowledge and obsession about Indonesian textiles. Grab your morning coffee or spiced afternoon tea and enjoy reading this translation of our interview transcript. If you want to read on, his book (only in Bahasa Indonesia) is available in e-book format or you can slide a DM into Diyan’s IG mailbox to get it shipped.
Note: Full video is available on IG TV and this translation of the transcript has been edited for reading format. Enjoy!
Nurdiyansah Dalidjo (DJ): My name is Nurdiyansah Dalidjo, usually called Diyan. My job is as a writer, a researcher, and maybe I would consider myself as a queer writer, but perhaps, you can call me, in the cool lingo, that I am an interdisciplinary researcher.
With friends, like Cassandra Grant, my partner and a friend from Australia, along with many other friends in Jakarta, we created projects or a textile documentation movement in the form of storytelling, called Kain Kita. You can just check on the blog on Medium or on Instagram regarding Kain Kita. We actively write stories and also carry out activities, but unfortunately due to COVID-19, we have to cancel all offline activities first and move online.
And for writing, like what Mas Tony had said earlier, yes, I just published a book called Rumah di Tanah Rempah. It contains a journey over the past 4 years exploring various historical places which are rich in spices.
TS: Yes, maybe we can talk about the book first. Why did you choose spices as the main topic in this book?
ND: Actually when talking about spices, it will be related to the issue of colonialism. However, it seems hard to talk about colonialism, so we use another narrative. But, of course, I like to travel and who doesn’t like to explore Indonesian cuisine?
Undoubtedly, everyone likes food that is rich in spices from the various places in Nusantara but combined with my own struggles to interpret or to discover who am I as an Indonesian? Who are ‘Indonesians’? And how do we want to try to interpret or contextualise ideas, or criticise matters related to nationalism, for example. So this book actually retells the various chapters along Indonesian historical journey, even before the white people, or the colonisers, came to the various islands in Indonesia, during the colonial era, such as Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, and also British Occupation, until the post-reformation era, It is a reflection and a contextualisation of the meaning that I was looking for, when looking at Indonesia as this big home to house this (huge) diversity.
TS: For the conceptualisation (of the book), you mentioned that the journey lasted 4 years. When was the lightbulb moment when you thought “oh, I’ll write about this”?
ND: Maybe it started with textiles too because I really like textiles, especially when traveling. Textiles and spices are two things that can be seen as commodities which connect many dots or link our relationship to things that are beyond us. By us, I mean our own society, and also people outside Nusantara, before it was called Indonesia then. Also, not only people, but also the intersections among various things, such as tradition, culture, art, including violence, of course, when we talk about colonisation, oppression, genocides, etc. By seeing it as commodities, both spices and textiles create a diversity that we can’t deny. Be it the dark history of oppression, or the violence that we experience in the context of colonialism, or the trade relations that maybe, before the arrival of the white people, were good with the Persians, the people from Gujarat (India), and also China.
The keyword here is about “hybridity” when we talk about cultural identity. This is clearly recorded on the textiles, how the relationships among our people are not only transactional but also are made of various combinations to influence each other. That contributes to many things and that also re-emphasises that cultural identity is not binary.
TS: So the trip happened first, then the idea to write a book, or because you want to write a book and, hence, you went travelling?
ND: Actually, it came at about the same time, the ‘aha’ moment was when I visited Lampung for the first time. Lampung is one of the areas that became a destination target for a transmigration project during The New Order era. Lampung was also where Dutch-owned spices (such as pepper, clove, and nutmeg, plantations) were once developed. When I visited Lampung then, there were a lot of contradictions that I saw in relation to the legacy of colonialism that may still be felt and nurtured by “capitalism”. The tradition of Kain Kapal later became extinct because of the arrival of white people (one of the many reasons). So that opened a lot of thoughts when I traveled to Lampung. For me, as an individual, as a child who was born and raised in the New Order era, to find out about the history and identity of being an Indonesian, or, being born as an Indonesian, what does that actually mean, when living in a house built on a foundation full of oppression in the colonialism era and on glorifications – the glorification of past kingdoms or with the glorification of Indonesia as a country that rich in arts and culture, diversity, etc.
TS: Interesting. Maybe to give context, what do you mean by spices trade route (ed: also known as Maritime Silk Route in English publications), from where to where, and through where?
ND: The spice route (in the book) refers to almost all of the routes or port cities that are located in Nusantara and Indonesia, almost all of them are included along the spice route, such as Malacca Straits, Sunda Straits, and various port cities in Nusantara. I am very interested to go to these cities or places, where there are rich spice or culinary tradition, and try to dig out more information about them. So the journey started from the South to North Sumatra, dropping by Mentawai, then explored Java, specifically the Northern Coast. Then I also visited Kalimantan, especially exploring Central Kalimantan, then to Sulawesi I visited South Sulawesi and also North Sulawesi, Balinusra (Bali and Nusa Tenggara), and, of course, East Nusa Tenggara, there are so many beautiful woven cloth and it was impossible not to drop by. Then I went to Maluku and West Papua. Not all parts of Indonesia, for sure, but I do visit most of them. Indeed, I prioritise those which have a history of spices, be it about the intersections among hybrid communities, such as Singkawang or Lasem. Furthermore, it also includes spice plantations legacy of colonialism, such as in Lampung, Aceh, Ternate and Tidore, the origin of cloves and nutmegs.
TS: So, there are spices in Lasem & Singkawang?
ND: Of course, there are spices there, and it comes in the form of amazing food. In the past, they were trading cities or ports, which had an important role. It was built by people who came from China who then stayed and mingled there. In my book, which discussed Lasem, we definitely should talk about their batik. Interestingly, the traditions of batik, both techniques and motifs as well as the trading culture, are impossible to separate from the Chinese culture. As we know it, there is a version of the story which says that these two places were also stopovers for the Zheng Ho’s fleet, in Indonesia. So yes, Lasem itself is fueled by the traditions of the Chinese people.
TS: We continue talking about cultural exchanges along this spice route and one of which we already mentioned is Batik Lasem. As evidenced in textiles motifs and techniques in Indonesia, what are the result of external influences for being located along the spice route?
ND: For Lasem, in the era of spice trade or even until the early 20th century, it was known as “corong candu” or “gerbang candu” (Opium Gate). As we know, opium is one of the most valuable spices, also called “Black Gold” in certain Chinese dialects. Other than Zheng Ho’s troops residing there, people from China also made transactions or smuggled opium via Lasem, along the North Coast of Java.
And interestingly, one topic that you mentioned is the batik traditions. This is very interesting, there was a Chinese couple, who is believed to be the two main figures and the first people to introduce batik technique and to enrich Lasem’s batik motifs. Sketches of their portraits could be seen in Cu An Kiong temple.
As we know it, one unique batik from Lasem is Batik Tiga Negeri. So when I went to visit the Batik Tiga Negeri area, it is one sheet of batik that has various motifs, bright colours of three main colours, which are sogan brown, red, and indigo respectively. Signature bright red color from the Morinda roots is produced in Lasem. And then, the sogan colour is from Central Java, Solo. Then indigo is from Pekalongan. Hence, the dyeing technique was brought by the Chinese traders or batik artisans, while they were trading at three places. They entrusted their batik textiles to the local dyers to be dyed with the signature colour in Pekalongan and also in Solo. It became three colours when it returned to Lasem. There were a lot of natural dyes and this dyeing and colour blending technique are very interesting.
Other than the dyeing technique, another signature is the motifs that are unique with Chinese influence, such as dragon, phoenix, and small ornaments that we usually find in the decorations of a temple’s altar. If you have been to Lasem, there is “Little Tiongkok” where the houses are really unique. They have crescent- or swallow tails-like roofs owned by the rich merchants. The houses are large, a mixture of Chinese and Indian architecture.
When I was there, I learnt that in the past, people made batik not at the front but at the back porch. That back porch was where the well of Chinese’s families or houses was located. So it turns out that, in the past, it was said that certain houses, or well, could produce different shades of red, allegedly some use blood. That’s the gossip. The truth is that the level of salt in wells is different in each household. That became kind of a secret or a key that says “oh, at this house or this Chinese family, they produced this kind of red”. the red colour produced is different because the wells are different.
TS: Also, one motif from Lasem is the Kricakan motif, which is to commemorate the building of North Coast highway, led by Daendels.
ND: Yes, that is one thing that I will discuss here and construction of that highway or Jalan Raya Pos which we know it in Indonesia, or as Jalan Raya Daendels, named after the initiator. Although actually, there is another term, to quote Pramoedya Ananta Toer (ed: an Indonesian author known for his politically critical works), that is one of the biggest act of genocide, which is important for us to remember as, allegedly, the workers or labourers were under forced labour, unpaid and unfed, just to build Daendels’ ambitions.
In fact, it is a kind of a fort in the form of a highway. The fort is the highway that does not only connect important port cities along Java’s North Coast. There are also the check posts or post offices which were the centre of colonial power. They were the centre of information and communication via post. It also connected sugar factories, other commodities facilities, as well as military posts. It is a fortress in the form of a highway, interestingly.
This road was not just built by the Dutch East Indies, but long before their arrival, connecting the main cities and ports along the North coast, this road has played an important role in relation to maritime trade, whether it was in the era of maritime trade for both main spices commodity and later with sugar, coffee trading, etc. These ports also became the ports for Zheng Ho’s fleet.
It is then a very different experience when we see the coastal batik with inland batik or batik keraton, which we know that coastal batik has a very bold colour, motifs which are asymmetric with a huge influence from China. If you see, you may find motifs from a patola cloth from Gujarat, India or Persian motifs. Of course, what we know as Dutch-style batik started appearing, especially in Pekalongan.
TS: When I was reading and researching about batik, indeed, there are a lot of influences from the outside world for works along the North coast of Java. How about woven cloth? Are there any influences on the woven cloth?
ND: Yes, of course, as an example, in Singkawang, there is a contemporary motif which was developed by one of weavers there, I apologise for forgetting her name. She has three bloodlines – Malay, Chinese, and also of the aboriginal people of Kalimantan, the Dayak. So she made woven textiles by combining the three motifs, which are motifs taken from a Chinese temple’s altar (the symmetry), from ornaments of the Dayak’s traditional weapon, and another one is taken from a traditional Malay house there (as we know, there was a Malay kingdom that controlled some parts of East Kalimantan).
There are weavings in East, West, and also Central Kalimantan, but in Singkawang, she combined these three motifs for her woven textiles, it is a new innovation and it then drives the point that children, or the weaver herself – I meant the third generation kids, like myself – that it is common for the parents or the grandparents to be in mixed marriages among two ethnic group or races. It then became a struggle for the current generation to give a meaning to their cultural identity, which used to be binary. For example, when someone asked, where are you from?, people in the past could easily answer “Oh, I am a Javanese” or “my dad is a Javanese and my mom is a Bugis, so I am Javanese-Bugis”. Not all the children can answer that now.
For example, I can answer, “oh, my parents are from Jogja, but I was born and raised in Jakarta and cannot speak Javanese.” It could be seen as a strange phenomenon, or maybe it used to be an outlier, but in reality, it is not. There are Javanese who cannot speak Javanese because of various reasons. Like I said earlier, we cannot affirm the position of cultural identity as binary, a combination of two things and it, sometimes, is hard to say.
It is still easy if there are only two lineages, such as Javanese Bugis, Javanese Batak, but if there are more than two, it starts to get confusing. That is the flexibility and the cultural identity that is not apparently binary. And we – I mean the people of Nusantara – have already experienced it long before Indonesia was formed, with the maritime and spice trade where there are intercultural interactions which gave birth to something new.
TS: Yes, these interactions are also found in textiles motifs that we like.
Actually I knew you when I was googling about Kain Kita, then as I stalk more, and learnt that you’re writing a book about spice and Indonesian history. So.. good textile, good food, and good stories, I am sold! One thing that I like is that your writing is very critical. From an article that I read, you mentioned that what we eat or what we wear became a political choice or result of making that political statement. During your writing process, do you have any enlightenment or new insights about Indonesia’s political journey?
ND: That could be something that is very personal, not just for Indonesians, but also for people in other places that are very hybrid. Politics is personal and, for me, it is very important for us to like something or to act upon our choice with awareness of what we chose.
As an example, with my friends in Kain Kita, when we talk about textiles, it is not about admiring the cloth based on the aesthetic but also, (to understand) in this modern era, that there are people or artisans who created something, all handmade, with traditional technique from scratch with natural dyes.
We do not want to view this using our colonial glasses and come to a conclusion that it is exotic.
For me, when we talk about textiles, we associate them with the people responsible for making these textiles. When we talk about Baduy woven cloth, which I am wearing now, this is from the traditional village of Kanekes, or many people in Indonesia know it as Desa Baduy. It is located in the highlands/mountainous area, in Banten province. They are the indigenous people, so we know that they have their own characteristics pertaining to identity, origins, customary institutions, regulations as well as the authority over their territory. This cloth represents the Baduy people themselves, especially the women. In Indonesia, we have not fully acknowledged the rights of these indigenous tribes as we do not have a legislative regulation. Although Indonesia has signed the UN declaration on Indigenous Peoples’ Right, we do not have any law yet.
That connects us. It connects me, who admires fabric from Baduy to have sympathy or empathy for their struggle. This is not just the perception that “Oh, that is a beautiful cloth, something that is handmade, by the aboriginal tribe” which we often stigmatise as primitive and traditional. It is not just about that. By buying, it means that we are supporting their economic system that is managed and results in benefiting them. This is also to emphasise, like me who is an urbanite and a youth to highlight that support for the fight and movement of these indigenous people in Indonesia. Hence, I view that our hobby or our interest in wearing or buying textiles is political.
TS: We from aNERDgallery also introduce textile not only because it’s beautiful exterior but also, like you said, there are stories and the struggle of the artisans themselves behind that.
We have to u-turn back to the impact of the trading route. Other than techniques, we have not discussed colours and dyeing. Do you have any insights regarding the impact on the textile dyeing techniques?
ND: As far as I know, the Dutch introduced chemical dyes. In Pekalongan, at that time, for batik, the colors for traditional textile used natural dyes. This is interesting as each area would have a unique colour, for example, Toraja with their brick red, Yogya and Solo with their soga brown and Pekalongan with indigo.
Each colour is not just about the hues but also the spiritual meanings and other values that sticks to the geographical uniqueness in each area. Later, the mishmash or influence from within and outside of Nusantara resulted in a combination that is unique and enriches the dyeing culture of cloth itself.
For example, in kain pelangi, as called in Java or jumputan in Palembang, a tie-dye technique by tying before dip-dyeing. So it is interesting to see that there are similar techniques across different cultures. Hence, there are many colours that further shows the hybridity, to express the medley of colours.
Regarding natural dyes, I felt that it is important for us to support, to buy and to appreciate naturally-dyed textiles is a way to support the artisan communities to ensure the continuity of the natural dyeing technique inherited from many generations. As we know it, natural dyeing is a very complicated process with fermentation and different concoctions. That represents a collective indigenous knowledge that is owned by women, especially the indigenous women artisans in their ancestral land.
Secondly, as materials for natural dyes are related to the areas around them, it means we are referring to their ancestral land, specifically the areas that are managed by these women artisans. Hence, in a way, beyond knowledge and the technology aforementioned, we are supporting their effort in protecting and developing their ancestral lands and vegetations. As we know it, they nurture and harvest cotton and dyeing materials from their yards and forests. So we are supporting their ecosystem.
Of course, there are the environmental issues where synthetic dyes contribute towards, though not as much as other textile factories. Traditional textiles are considered a small/home industry and, regardless, using natural dyes is important to support and to reduce the waste generated when using synthetic dyes.
TS: Apart from dyes from native plants, are there any new plants that are introduced by newcomers?
ND: Definitely, as we know it, in many places in East Nusa Tenggara, the dyeing technique uses clove oil as a fixer or mordant. Clove is not a native plant from inland East Nusa Tenggara, but it was from Maluku. How could clove oil be used by weavers for dyeing for years, or maybe a century, if it weren’t a result of the spice trade. Clove was a very important commodity during the colonialism era then.
Also, in many other areas, many did not know about indigo blue or indigofera plants which later become widespread across the archipelago. Indigo has since become a “trademark” for blue natural dye, just like red from the morinda roots.
It is interesting to note that not only there is influence in the technique but also the colours itself. In the beginning of 20th century, the Dutch applied the Cultivation System, or cultuurstelsel, in which the commodity is not just coffee or sugar but includes indigo.
TS: So it’s like a person too? Our textiles also show a hybrid or a combination of various cultures.
ND: Yes, indeed. It is impossible for us to put humans in the museums. The perspective is so “colonial” to buy something to show off. We just display and show it off but we forget to give meaning and context or an appreciation. When we talk about textiles, we are talking about a “living being” which will continue to develop. That means we should not romanticise them as something ancient or traditional just because it is handmade from scratch with natural materials.
In a way, we are also talking about fair trade with these weavers. Oftentimes, there are gaps in the value of money as perceived by the urbanites and the weavers in the village. For example, in the city, there is a minimum wage for one with certain skills and qualifications. For the weavers, there are cloths that they work on for 1 month, 5 hours a day and how much should we pay for these 1 month (of labour)? They might have sold it for 1 million Rupiah which to them is very valuable. I urge us, the urbanites, to reflect if it is just to buy them at that price in which the effort these artisans put forth could be way beyond the face value.
When we talk about fair textile trades, there certainly are rules that need to be adjusted in comparison to the other commodities.
TS: Yes, this may be something we need to work on. An example with batik. Batik from various regions are not appreciated equally, in terms of pricing. Batik from city A can be more expensive than batik from city B, although technically or quality they are equivalent. The ideas and the creativity behind them are still not consistently assessed.
ND: Yes, indeed. The situation will definitely be very complex to achieve a state of fair trade (of textiles), in which the ideal is to consider textiles as a commodity, not just as a massively produced trading commodity but also as an art commodity in which it is made by these artisans with special skills with different amount of effort which is related to the intellectual effort. At the minimal, as an activist or as a consumer, we have influence, regardless the smallest, to gear towards the direction of the ideal situation.
TS: This could be actually a very long discussion and we can keep talking. However, we have a time limit. Throughout the trip, as we are discussing spices, we definitely have to talk about food. So, according to Diyan, which area has the most unique food?
ND: Definitely, I am confused. Each region is unique. In fact, Aceh gave me the deepest impression. Many believe that Aceh stands for Arab, Chinese, Europe and Hindia. It represents diversity. Samudera Pasai Sultanate, the first Islam kingdom in Nusantara and Aceh, as one of the main ports, had a very important role in the trading or cultivation of spices. There are many spice plantations in Aceh and that is reflected in the food. As an example, the mutton curry. One dish with 20 over spices in one plate and their cuisine is one of the most memorable. Unfortunately, the songket culture is almost extinct and that would be difficult to research.
Actually, Jakarta is also memorable. For me, anywhere where there is diversity, especially with the Chinese descents, their food becomes amazing, such as in Singkawang, Pontianak or any Javanese port cities along the north coast. Ambon’s (food) was amazing too. Ternate and Tidore, of course, as we know it that the Portuguese, Spanish, English and Dutch had official business there.
Food is very interesting, you can dig many stories from food. I mean… you can talk to the women in the kitchen.
TS: Yes, that’s right, food is a good conversation starter. As you said, not only in Indonesia, but every time I go on my trip, I really love to go to Chinatown. Chinese food exists all over the world. However, in every place, they are different and that’s very interesting for me.
ND: Yes, like Hakka people in Pontianak, for example, they cook a noodle dish with local ingredients. When you go to Medan, Hakka dishes become vastly different. That is the uniqueness of the Chinese, they are very adaptive. Also, they were here long since before the white people came, they are assimilated and they are flexible in adapting and contributing to the local culture. Hence, when we talk about culture or identity in relation to diverse people or societies, we do not see which is the dominant one but which one complements well.
TS: We have one question from [a live audience], “I already read your book Rumah di Tanah Rempah, why was there no discussion about spices in West Java?”
ND: Thank you. Who says that? That was not the case. Indeed, that was a challenge to draw a link among the provinces. In fact, I discussed a lot about the Priyangan (or Preanger or Parahyangan), which has now become Bandung Regency with coffee plantations.
Towards the end of the book, you can read about my struggle about Bandung as a home where the Asia-Africa Conference was held. There is also the 0 KM point in Bandung in which Daendels planted his stick and declared “I want this place to be a city by the time I come back to retrieve this stick”. It was not a statement. It was a decree for the local leaders to develop into what later became Bandung city.
Bandung is also part of the Jalan Raya Pos that connects the coffee plantations around Bandung highlands. So, I mentioned West Java, as there are many port cities in West Java, and Banten, before it became an independent province separated from West Java. Also, much of West Java is highlands and, hence, there is less mention of West Java, in the context of the maritime silk route.
TS: Spoiler alert, read all the way to the end. Full story can be read in Diyan’s new book, “Rumah di Tanah Rempah”. Where can they find the book?
ND: On the 29th, it can officially be purchased at Gramedia’s bookstore. But I understand that the situation is still in pandemic, so maybe if there are friends who do not want to go to the bookstore because of the pandemic, you can also buy them online at Gramedia.com for the physical books. Meanwhile, the e-book is on Gramedia Digital. But if there are friends who want to order directly through me as the author, please just contact me to order. You can just DM on my Instagram.
TS: Indonesian friends who are abroad, you can also buy the ebook at Gramedia.com.
ND: Yes, there is e-book too.
TS: Thank you! We learn a lot today and we can still continue this conversation later. Thank you for joining aNERDspective today. Do follow IG @aNERDgallery and @penjelajah_rempah if you like this interview. Interviews with previous guests can be seen on aNERDgallery IGTV. Thank you again and stay tuned for the next one.
CONTACT US | TERMS OF USE | PRIVACY POLICY
© 2021. NERD VENTURES. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.