The land of Toraja

Amelia Winnie, Contributor, Tana Toraja |

Rare skill: A Torajan woman weaves a tenun cloth. — Photo by Amelia WinnieRare skill: A Torajan woman weaves a tenun cloth. — Photo by Amelia Winnie

Known for its remarkable tenun or woven cloth and funeral ceremonies, Tana Toraja — “the Land of Toraja” — is a lot more than meets the eye.

Located in South Sulawesi, this prominent tourist destination in Indonesia is encircled by mountains, cliffs, forests and dotted with coffins as well as buffaloes.

It was an eight- to 10-hour drive from South Sulawesi’s capital city, Makassar. I did not want to close my eyes and fall asleep as the journey to Toraja offers a scenery I might regret missing.

Paddy fields and forests could be seen to the left of the road, and scary yet tremendous gaps to the right. The sky was bright blue and, through large clouds, the sun shone brightly.

Because it is a famous tourist destination, Tana Toraja is packed with visitors all year round, from backpackers to wealthy travelers.
Wealthy family: The number of horns in front of tongkonan, the traditional house in Tana Toraja, shows how prosperous their owner is. — Photo by Amelia WinnieWealthy family: The number of horns in front of tongkonan, the traditional house in Tana Toraja, shows how prosperous their owner is. — Photo by Amelia Winnie

If you want to go to Tana Toraja’s famous spots in Makale, Rantepao and Batutumonga easily, you can rent a car, which costs around Rp 400,000 (US$46) a day (negotiable). You can also take public transportation, such as a minivan (angkot) or bentor — short for becak motor (motorcycle-pedicab) — if you want to tour around the city.

Torajan houses called tongkonan, built using carved-wood panels can be seen throughout Toraja. The word tongkonan comes from the Torajan word tongkon — which means “to sit”. The walls of tongkonan are incised with wood-carving detail and are mainly colored red, black and yellow.

In front of a tongkonan, you can usually see a string of buffalo horns that show how affluent and wealthy the owner is. Four or eight horns indicate average wealth. Any other amount means the tongkonan belongs to a prosperous family.

Nowadays, many Torajans own modern-looking houses, but they still have smaller-sized tongkonan houses, which they use as guest houses.
Down below: Londa, a natural cave, is the burial ground for Tana Toraja ancestors, located in Sandan Uai village in Sanggalangi subdistrict, 7 kilometers from Makale. — Photo by Amelia WinniDown below: Londa, a natural cave, is the burial ground for Tana Toraja ancestors, located in Sandan Uai village in Sanggalangi subdistrict, 7 kilometers from Makale. — Photo by Amelia Winni

They are also used to store gabah (unhulled rice) or as the family grave. Indeed, there is something in Toraja you cannot and do not want to overlook: corpses, coffins and graveyards.

Before stepping into these spooky spots, you must visit Batu Tumonga. Located on the slopes of Mount Sesean, a one-hour drive from the center city in Toraja, Batu Tumonga offers a splendid view of Rantepao and Tana Toraja from its peak. Having a cup of robusta or arabica coffee (Torajan exclusive coffee) in a coffee shop there while looking at the views is very enjoyable.

On the way to Batu Tumonga, graves could be spotted everywhere. Interestingly, they didn’t look creepy — but culturally appealing.
Tree grave: Babies used to be buried in the Tarra’ Tree. — Photo by Amelia WinniTree grave: Babies used to be buried in the Tarra’ Tree. — Photo by Amelia Winni

The next stop was the baby grave called passiliran in Kambira. The passiliran is only intended for babies who do not have teeth — they were considered sacred. Deceased babies are buried inside a hole in a tarra tree, as it is believed to place them back in their mothers’ wombs. Tarra has white sap symbolizing a mother’s milk. Approximately 80 to 300 centimeters in diameter, the hole is wrapped with enau leaves (solitary palm sugar) after the baby is in. There are 15 holes in the tarra now.

Social status, again, plays a role here. The higher the baby is placed inside the hole, the higher the social status of the family. By paying an entry fee of Rp 5,000, tourists can see and take photographs of the baby graves.

Twenty minutes from the baby grave, meet Londa — a natural cave, the burial ground for Tana Toraja ancestors. Located in Sandan Uai village in Sanggalangi subdistrict, 7 kilometers from Makale, it costs
Rp 5,000 to enter the site.

Here, visitors must follow community rules — one of which is we are not allowed to move or take away the human bones. Among the tombs, you can see tau-tau — wooden effigies representing the deceased — placed on the top of Londa cave.

When you look toward Londa’s entrance, there are erong — Torajan coffins that stick out of the cliff side — filled with human bones from hundreds of years ago. Similar to the baby grave, the higher one’s social status is, the higher the dead is placed on the cliff.

Then, explore the 1,000-meter depth of Londa cave by foot and witness this coffin-filled cave with sesajen (offerings to the spirit) and items belonging to the deceased alongside.

Be careful, the ground and rocks inside are slippery and wet. Witness the infamous tale from Londa inside the cave revolving around a couple of skulls claimed to be Toraja’s Romeo and Juliet. They were deeply in love, but both families’ refusal to welcome their commitment brought catastrophe: suicide.

Toraja people place importance on buffalos. Not only do buffalo horns present social status, Torajans also sacrifice as many buffaloes as possible at a family member’s funeral. The number of animals sacrificed — buffaloes or pigs — equates to the power of the dead and their family’s.

Tedong — as Toraja people call the water buffalo — are given time to bathe in mud. Albino buffalo are given special treatment. There’s one in Londa, named Tedong Bonga. The guide says Tedong Bonga is worth more than Rp 200 million.

Another enthralling spot is Ke’te Kesu, the most picturesque village in Tana Toraja. It has a shipshape row of tongkonan and the hanging erong coffins.

Ke’te Kesu has many tau-tau on its cliffs, photos of predecessors, and wooden-carving crafts and souvenir shops selling Torajan handicrafts such as tenun woven cloths, T-shirts, ethnic jewelry and even traditional South Sulawesi costumes.

It is believed to be the oldest graveyard in Tana Toraja. To fully experience Ke’te Kesu, you need to walk upstairs with the precipice on your right.

Many skulls and other bones are on the ground. Walking past flimsy, old coffins, you can sense the mystical atmosphere around.
Valuable asset: This water buffalo, Tedong Bonga, is worth more than Rp 200 million. Photo by Amelia WinnieValuable asset: This water buffalo, Tedong Bonga, is worth more than Rp 200 million. Photo by Amelia Winnie

The last and hottest place to visit is Sa’dan To’barana. This is a special place to see the making of pattanun, Torajan tenun woven cloth.
You can also purchase cloth here. Sa’dan To’barana is a one-hour drive from Rantepao.

It is a traditional village in north Toraja where the pattanun fabric is originally made. Pattanun consists of a mixture of colorful tenun woven fabric and is sold at a reasonable price. You can have an authentic pattanun from Rp 100,000 to more than Rp 1 million.

You can also experience weaving with the traditional machine to make tenun woven cloth. One tenun woven cloth is 3.5 meters in size and takes two weeks to make.

Tasting Tana Toraja’s cuisine is also a must. Try pa’piong, beef/pork/fish mixed with vegetables such as utan bulunangko or jackfruit inside bamboo then roasted over a fire.

Do not forget to taste jipang Toraja, made from glutinous black sticky rice with brown sugar.

Tori cookies are also yummy and use similar ingredients to jipang but in a different form. Tori is made by adding sesame seeds and rice flour.

This superb city of graves and marvelous natural views invites those who visit the Land of Toraja to come back again.

THe Java Puppet

Wayang with a Touch of Dutch
Indah Setiawati,

There was no Arjuna in sight. The puppet characters appeared in classic European clothing from the 16th century. And the shadow puppet story was not based on the classic epic Mahabharata or Ramayana — but rather the heroic epic of Prince William of Orange.

That particular evening, the audience was given a rare treat — a wayang shadow puppet show with a fresh, contemporary twist.

Painted in classic European clothing from the 16th century, the puppet characters became alive as young puppet master Ananto Wicaksono told the heroic epic story of Prince William of Orange to a packed hall at the Erasmus Huis in South Jakarta.

Closing scene showcases the puppet characters of Prince William van Orange (left), his wife Louise de Coligny (right) and the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) in Delft. JP/ Wendra Ajistyatama Closing scene showcases the puppet characters of Prince William van Orange (left), his wife Louise de Coligny (right) and the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) in Delft. JP/ Wendra Ajistyatama

The Nusantara Museum in Holland had ordered the puppet of William of Orange — or Willem Van Oranje in Dutch — from Javanese puppet maker Ledjar Subroto, Ananto’s grandfather.

The puppet show was performed in Jakarta and Yogyakarta before being launched in the Nusantara Museum over the weekend.

The story revolves around the battles of Prince William, the proponent of freedom of religion against the Spanish army. The Spanish King, Philip II, declared William an outlaw and promised a reward for his assassination.

The show’s last scene depicted the assassination of the Dutch hero. Balthasar Gerard, a supporter of Phillip II, shot William to death at the prince’s home in Delft.

The contemporary shadow puppet show did not only present a series of serious political banters and war scenes, but also entertained and humored with creative and amusing scenes.

The hundreds of audience members burst into laughter when an old puppet character Jan Klaasen appeared on stage as an intermezzo in the middle of a war.

Jan Klaasen’s funny voice, humorous chat and silly movements became an instant ice-breaker. A Spaniard soldier tried to attack his head to no avail because it was so flexible — it could rotate, turning forward and even backward.

Ledjar said Jan Klaasen was an additional character that was comparable to Punokawan — four royal jokers in the regular puppet shows.

“I inserted the Jan Klaasen character so the audience did not only have to stick to the story, but be entertained by the humor as well,” he said.

Known as the innovator of wayang kancil — leather puppets in animal forms, the 73-year-old Ledjar was internationally known for his novel pieces of the wayang art.

His creations include Wayang Sultan Agung in 1987, a puppet made to depict the struggle of Sultan Agung against the Dutch troops under Jan Pieter Zoon Coen. The puppet was collected by the Westfreis Museum.

Later, he made Wayang Revolusi for the Bronbeek Museum in Arnhem, representing the Indonesian revolutionary figures of 1945. He also created a wayang cartoon based on the Japanese Samurai X comic for the performance of Japanese puppeteer Ryoh Matsumoto in 2002.

Ananto, a student of the Indonesian Institute of Arts in Yogyakarta, said the Nusantara Museum planned to introduce Dutch history to school children through Wayang William.

“The problem [faced by Indonesia and the Netherlands] is the same. Children are reluctant to study history,” he said, adding that wayang was chosen because both countries shared a strong cultural relationship.

The idea to wrap the Dutch history in a wayang story came after officials from the Nusantara Museum watched Ledjar’s Sultan Agung puppet show performance at the Pasar Tong Tong fair back in 2008.

The officials, who saw a Jan Pieter Zoon Coen puppet, were inspired to order the puppet character of William. They were happy to see Ledjar’s creation of the William puppet a year later, saying that the puppet’s image matched the prince’s portraits. Ananto said he researched on the Internet to study the history of William of Orange and watched an original classic movie about him.

“At first, I was thinking of full gamelan for the music, but then I changed my mind because this was a European puppet show. I don’t want to make it an ordinary wayang purwa [traditional puppetry],” he said.

His effort paid off. The Willem puppet show performed in the Erasmus Huis was far from boring.

The music was a collaboration between pop orchestra and traditional gamelan. Some of the conversations in the show, which included an English translation, were even set to opera-esque music, such as during a romantic chat between William and his fourth wife Louise de Coligny.

Ananto, who has been a wayang puppeter since he was four years old, said the Nusantara Museum’s visitors could also watch his 15-minute animated film of the William puppet show in addition to enjoying the real puppet performance.

The museum also plans to tour the puppet show around several cities. Ledjar said the marriage of modern and traditional genres could attract young people.

The most important thing, he added, was to preserve the traditional nuance.

However, nowadays the majority of appreciation for wayang comes from foreign countries like the Netherlands, and little attention is paid to the art form in Indonesia.

Ledjar said no order to make a wayang show about Indonesia’s modern history had come from his his own country.

“You know, there is no interest here in Indonesia. I am concerned about how to encourage our children and young generation to love wayang.”

Puppet master Ananto performs a battle scene during the shadow puppet show at Erasmus Huis in South Jakarta.

Batik Indonesia, Indonesian Batik

Going back to the roots of batik in Pekalongan
Prodita Sabarini, The Jakarta Post,

Still noble: A batik artist stamps a pattern onto a cloth at the workshop of Nur Cahyo, another batik producer Edo Hutabarat works with, in Pekalongan, Central Java.Still noble: A batik artist stamps a pattern onto a cloth at the workshop of Nur Cahyo, another batik producer Edo Hutabarat works with, in Pekalongan, Central Java.Designer Edward Hutabarat was sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the oldest Peranakan Chinese batik producer’s house in Kedungwuni, Pekalongan. Piles of colorful batik tulis (hand-painted batik) worth Rp 10 million were scattered on the ground in front of him.

Next to him, batik producer Liem Poo Hien, with a pen and paper, a nervous smile and a frown, carefully noted down Edo’s — as the designer is popularly called — instructions.

“Without tanahan, without boog, without tumpal,” Edo said, uttering words that may have sounded like a foreign language to the batik novice. In batik vernacular, tanahan means an intricate hand-painted background, boog is the arching lining on the edges of batik, and tumpal is the area that covers the front part of the lower limbs when a batik cloth is worn as a sarong.

Hien looked apprehensive when agreeing to Edo’s instructions, but Edo was determined to have his way.
Edo is one of Indonesia’s designers who successfully turned the country’s traditional national dress and clothes into modern and global fashion. He is known for having revived the kebaya and batik, tweaking the nation’s traditional clothing into something modern and chic — on par with clothing from international brands such as Hermes, Gucci, and Bottega Veneta.

Hien meanwhile is the fourth generation of Lim Ping Wie, a family of Chinese Peranakan batik producers in Pekalongan. She adheres to the tradition of the Peranakan style batik almost religiously. But Edo is convincing her to move beyond its rigid rules and produce batik cloth that will give him more freedom to design clothes.

The results of Edo’s fruitful collaboration with Hien will be on show in his next collection that will celebrate the former’s 30 years in the fashion design industry. His aim has been to bring batik into the world of international high fashion and ensure Indonesians’ love for batik lasts the test of time.

Household products producer Kao Indonesia, which recently launched a liquid product called Batik Cleaner, and Edo, invited The Jakarta Post to Pekalongan in December to see how batik is made.

The trip to Pekalongan, one of the 200 spots in Indonesia where the designer collaborates with local textile producers, aimed to explore the roots of batik. Central Java’s Pekalongan is one of the main production areas for the colorful batik pesisir (coastal batik). Being a fair distance from the Javanese royal courts such as Yogyakarta and Surakarta gave producers of batik from Pekalongan the freedom to explore batik outside the courts’ canon, resulting in vibrant and colorful patterns, with influences from China, the Dutch and Arabs.

Batik’s popularity has gone through ups and downs. But from the day Edo worked with batik in 2004, the fabric has been widely accepted and gone from being considered as old and traditional — conjuring images of the lovely grandmother wearing a kebaya and sarong — to a fashionable and stylish garment.

The country has even dedicated a day to batik, Oct. 2, after the UNESCO declared the method of hand-painting cloth using hot wax as world heritage in 2009.

Not your ordinary request: Designer Edward Hutabarat (left) gives instructions to an attentive Liem Poo Hien, who is taking notes down about the batik Edo wants her to create for his latest collection.Not your ordinary request: Designer Edward Hutabarat (left) gives instructions to an attentive Liem Poo Hien, who is taking notes down about the batik Edo wants her to create for his latest collection.But according to Edo, people’s renewed interest in batik remains superficial. Very few realize how long it takes to make one piece of batik tulis and how intricate the process of batik making is.

“Not many know about the woman who paints batik eight hours a day without leaning forward,” he said.

Because of how elaborate batik looks, and how complicated it is to make, Edo’s philosophy on wearing batik is “less is more”. He isn’t a big fan of the many extravagant fashion shows involving batik. The big hair, the bows on the shoulders, appliqués, heavy makeup, and chunky shoes are so hillbilly, he went on.

And never wear batik with diamonds, he warned. “It’s tacky.”

Back at Kedungwuni, Edo asked Hien to create a 5-meter-long cloth. Batik cloth usually measures around 2 meters. They bargained on the length and settled for 3.5 meters.

Besides worrying about the rigid rules Hien adheres to when making batik, she is naturally nervous she won’t succeed in producing such a long cloth.

Batik tulis production is a painstaking process.

To understand how intricate it is to make batik tulis, one has to spread the cloth wide and examine its pattern and colors. One of Hien’s Japanese-influenced Hokokai batik has ornate flowers, leaves and butterflies. Each of them are filled with different patterns of dots, lines, half circles and curves. These fillings are called isen-isen. In batik tulis each flower can have different pattern of fillings, depending on the artist’s creativity. In the background, a neat pattern of curls and dots can be seen, called tanahan.

To create batik, Hien’s artists will sit and use their canting, a metal container with a needle. The canting holds the wax while it trickles down the needle allowing the artist to paint the cloth.

After the wax dries, the cloth is soaked in color and hung to dry. The wax is then removed from the cloth when plunged into boiling water, a process called ngelorot. The batik artists will then paint the cloth several more times to produce the isen-isen and tanahan.

Different colors might appear in one batik cloth. If three colors come out, the cloth will be soaked in color three times, and the batik artists will have to block the areas that do not need to be colored.

A very detailed batik might take a year to finish, not counting failures, Hien said. “So, if you see a batik that costs over Rp 2 million, don’t think that’s expensive,” Edo added.

Hien believes she has a lot to learn from Edo. Responsible for around 30 batik artists, she candidly explained Edo was the only person she felt comfortable asking for money to help her pay her artists.

Given the meticulous nature of the batik-making process and its reliance on sunny weather to dry the cloth, Hien said running her business was tough work. She never sends her batik cloth to customers, the latter have to come to her place, in case the batik gets damaged when mailed.

While Hien is Edo’s Chinese Peranakan batik producer, his go to guy for the more modern pekalongan batik is Nur Cahyo who produces batik tulis and batik cap (stamped batik) with natural and chemical coloring in Pekalongan.

Edo claimed that of all the batik tulis Pekalongan he had come across, Cahyo’s was the finest. The two met in an exhibition four years ago when Edo discovered his products. Edo then contacted Cahyo and the pair started working together.

On the world stage: The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has named Indonesia’s handmade batik as world heritage.On the world stage: The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has named Indonesia’s handmade batik as world heritage.Cahyo’s batik tulis workshop is located in a modest lush green Angsana garden, surrounded by a lopsided bamboo fence. There, the batik painters sit in groups in a large hall. Edo’s design office is an open-air room looking over rice paddies.

When we walked in, the wind made lines of the crepe de chine batik hung on lines under the trees roll like ocean waves.

Cahyo, who likes abstract patterns, is more open to innovations in batik. He is currently working with Edo to make a masterpiece from a 9-meter kereta kencana cloth. Edo also uses silk rolls imported from Japan and is designing a flora and fauna pattern on it.

His batik tulis usually takes between 3 months up to a year to make. Using stamps, one can produce batik faster, up to 100 per week, which reduces the cost by hundreds of thousands of rupiah.

“Still it is more noble than print,” Edo said.

Edo was optimistic about Cahyo’s production because his batik artists are mostly in their 30s and 40s.

“I know that good batik will still be produced knowing that there is regeneration,” he said.

There are still many villages in Pekalongan where elderly ladies make batik for a living or to pass time.

These pieces are called batik kampung, and can be recognized from their big flowers and full tanahan patterns, mainly green, brown and purple. The ladies buy the white mori cloth from a middleperson. They ask the middleperson to take their cloth to workers who color and rinse the wax. While the middle person pays Rp 200,000 to Rp 400,000 for the batik, the price can go up to Rp 750,000 at the market, and Rp 1.5 million in Jakarta.

Edo said more people should visit these artisan cities to learn about batik-making culture. The city of Pekalongan is a laid-back town with many batik workshops, a batik museum and good food — a great place for Indonesians to go on study tours and learn about their heritage.

“Indonesians should know about batik,” he said. “This is ours