anak anak abdullah

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day four: random conversations on matrimonial ties

today is probably the longest day i had so far since my residency began. i was slowly feeling an emotional fatigue from an intensive four days. there was a lot i had to process, from what i have seen, heard and experience and how i can relate it back to identity. at the moment, i am questioning my methodology and feel that if i keep it as open as possible and string the threads of these stories and weave them into a singular emotive narrative. that aside, endira came to platform3 to help me prepare the letter for salvation army because they need some form of formality just in case the head requires some background to this research.

roy also visited platform3 and we had like a short discussion about my position of the arts, especially in singapore and i told him honestly i am caught in between; some days it feels that art making is just a waste of time and other days i feel its really necessary, sometimes i question why some works exist and other times i completely see the point of their existence. its really subjective and not entirely defined across the whole spectrum. that aside, the search for my own identity is crucial to my purpose of art-making and its almost a side-by-side progression; the more i create, conceptualize, think of where my practice is going, the clearer my own identity becomes.

after roy left, bule, risa and en stayed behind to figure out how to get my husband, bani to platform3 so that i can stay behind and do more work. we ended up talking about matriarchy in minangkabau culture (however in a weird twist, a man has 40 wives and a chain of padang restaurants all over indonesia with each wife taking care of each restaurant in a different state/village in indo), about the obedient wives club in malaysia, about how in bali marriages only happens if the man gets the girl up to ensure she is fertile (fertility is essential in balinese culture), in tibet where there is no matrimonial ties and the women can copulate with any man she desires but if she gets pregnant, her husband or brother has to take care of her child and this will ensure bloodline. there are so much variations of matrimonial ideals and i felt that before colonisation and western ideals or before islamisation in southeast asia, it was probably ok to have children out of wedlock. it is a little ironic that western values which taught us these ideas of freedom shackle our minds with thoughts of monogamy. that aside it is refreshing to talk about cultural differences in asia and i am surprised at the stark differences just within indonesia alone.

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faces of bandung - shot on nikon fm10

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day four: accidental meeting with deden and the KAP gang

i headed back to platform3 after the meeting with the salvation army as i had met deden who does yoga every friday afternoon with the ibu ibu of the area where platform3 is located. deden is a chirpy fellow who is highly enthusiastic about his role as a freelance theatre practitioner. Since heru was also in the space, he explained to deden my research in bandung. deden excitedly told me that I am neighbours with an NGO that works primarily with youths at risk and underaged sex workers. he said i should come by in the afternoon to meet the head of KAP (Konfederasi Anti Pemiskinan) and the volunteers to share with them my research and current project at Platform3.

we loosely schedule the time, at 3pm and deden came on time to get the place ready for yoga. However, as a side note i have learnt that in bandung, time is as flexible as a rubber band and 3pm usually meant 4pm or 5pm. deden mopped up the place and brought me to KAP’s office which is literally next to platform3. I was greeted warmly by chimot, nani and three other volunteers. A big sized serious looking man with a strong presence sat at the main table and he introduced himself as Pak Bambang. They asked me about my project here and told me that as an NGO they have experienced and assisted children who were involved in child prostitution to rehabilitate back into the community and leave the trade behind. However, they are now more focused on children who are born and living in poverty  and according to experience, children who were born from mothers who themselves work in nightclubs or social escorts have the same tendencies to follow in their mother’s footsteps. KAP, similar to rumah cemara, focus mainly on inclusivity and how these youths can put their attention and efforts on other things such as film-making, cooking, writing and photography. however all of them agreed that even with these choices, they have a high tendency to end up committing vices as the family influence is stronger than the external influences. 

i told him about my experience in rumah cemara the day before, on how efa refused to create a fake birth certificate for her daughter simply because she did not wish to add another lie for her, which in the end she would have to confess to her daughter when the time is right. Pak Bambang corrected my findings and told me that the government has already allowed for children born out of wedlock to have legal birth certificates even if there is no fathers’ name in the certificates. however, he said, its really a cultural issue and mothers or families of these children, usually refused as it might it harder for them to progress in life. i could only laugh at the irony and told pak bambang that the worst kind of pressure in society is the cultural pressures to which pak bambang agreed. Chimot mentioned that I should engage in the kids that is under her care and also with Kak widya’s kids who might have experienced this themselves as an observer or know a family member who might have gone through this before.

they told me that i could meet the children on sunday morning as they are having a series of activities for them. chimot also added that it will be great if i could include their participation in my work. however i told chimot that at this moment, i do not wish to impose my methodology on the children especially since they are teenagers and it might be difficult for them to verbalise, let alone participate in such an emotionally-charged workshop. however, i told her it will be great for me to meet them and get to know them first. that itself is enough for me to craft out my own impressions about the situation without being to forthcoming. i told pak bambang and the rest that the past four days, the reactions upon hearing this project have been pretty negative from people who ironically is not directly/indirectly involved in the invisible community of people born out of wedlock but for those in a reversed position have been open to share their thoughts regarding the matter.

chimot also told me that the children under her care is creating a documentary on how youths entertained themselves (nongkrong) and it will be great if i can give my input. i told her it will be a great pleasure for me to assist in any way i can. Pak bambang went on to tell me more about the ngo in bandung or indonesia as a whole. when i asked if KAP receives government support, he started to laugh heartily. “of course not because if we do so we can’t call them gobloks (idiots)”. i am very much familiar with the notions of help=control by government bodies. another reason is, according to pak bambang, government officials uses NGOs to clean money as they will write on record that they give 10,000 dollars to this particular NGO but only disseminate 5,000 whereas using the rest of the 5,000 for something else. “its a money laundering process”. he also mentioned that government officials usually ride in cars that are red-plated and so NGOs that are highly supported by government are called red-plated NGOs. “these NGOs are like gangsters, they get the money from the government through an angry and aggressive approach and only use a little bit of the funds for their organizations and pocket the rest for themselves.

i shared with them the singapore context regarding poverty and other matters of illegitimacy and told them that its portrayed as a problem due to government policies so the stigma is barely visible. however it still exist and many muslim women are forced to marry immediately if they are found pregnant. due to that, divorce rates are high among young muslim couples. on top of that, women who bring the children up themselves face a quiet stigma more so from family members and people they know than the society at large.

i told them my project looks at the unseen/seen aspects of illegitimacy and hope to create an awareness based on emotions and not on factual data. “i am seeking to indirectly humanise the problem” i told Pak Bambang and the rest. Pak bambang himself mentioned the risk of exploitation and how i frame the work, especially the images, is highly important. i told him i was aware of this conundrum and that is why i chose such an indirect approach. i thank him and the rest for their time as i had another meeting with Endira from Platform3 at five pm. however i was relieved to have met the gang from KAP and were looking forward to meet the youths this Sunday, knowing it will add that economic dimension to my research and put an additional dimension on how economic position and social class might or might not affect the recurrence of having children out of wedlock and also affect how open or closed up the issue is in specific class systems.

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day four: visit to salvation army (balai keselamatan)

we had an early morning start and visit the panti asuhan balai keselamatan which is an orphanage under the salvation army. i know my research was to focus primarily on muslim we were born out of wedlock. however i felt that it was necessary to understand the spectrum of having no sense of origins and how it links to the process of identity making. after last night with efa, i could not help feeling that the methodologies that i came up with back home was intrusive and unnecessary and just the act of sharing alone was enough to uncover the fragilities within their stories. 

risa and i had one of our communication breakdowns and i realised she was already at the balai keselamatan with bule. i rushed immediately on the gojek hoping somehow i would find it on my own. luckily after three days of “gojeking” i manage to get a hand on how to get around, even though that was the first time i was visiting the balai keselamatan. the residency have definitely taken me out of my comfort zones, and for the first time in my life i am conscious of my surroundings and have not gotten myself lost (yet). that aside, we rushed to the panti asuhan as it was going to be closed in ten minutes time. we were greeted by a lady who was in her late thirties or early forties with a weary look on her face. risa and bule briefly explained my project/research to them and i emphasised that i wanted to capture the emotions of children who grew up not knowing their mothers, or fathers or both and understand how they identify with themselves. she mentioned that we need to write a formal letter addressing it to them before we can proceed. she mentioned to address it to her husband, pak nicholas who is the owner of the place. i asked her how many children were under her care, and she said thirty-five girls from seven to sixteen. 

at that moment, pak nicholas appeared from the back of the house to the main living room. we introduced ourselves to him and i again explained my project to him. i asked him several questions pertaining to the space. they have been there for the past three years,they were managing another orphanage before this and they have four children of their own. they do not separate their biological children from the children. “we treat them the same, they eat together, go to school together, stay together and our own children are very independent because they know we need to tend to the children’s needs” said ibu nicholas. when i asked if there was any government support, they mentioned that the large sum of money will start to diminish, due to switching of hands from different departments before the funds finally reach them. i asked how they manage and pak nicholas mentioned truthfully that it has been a struggle. half of the children does not receive financial support from the government at the moment as the process takes a while before the funds can be given. he said that it is frustrating but their main focus is to put all the children through school. he said, with a slight hint of hopelessness in his voice, “mereka lupa yang anak anak ini adalah anak anak negara” (they forget that these children are the children of the nation). 

ibu nicholas also told us that some of the children here were transferred from the notorious orphanage (not sure of the name) that was closed because it was mistreating its children and abusing them. i asked the both of them how long the girls can stay here until and pak nicholas mentioned that if they receive benefactors that can fund their studies through college they can stay here until they graduate. however that is not the case for most of them and most will have to leave after high school. pak and ibu nicholas recounted the story of how support will be offered by the government to the child who had the best results and there was once two girls had the same results with one of them with a slight percentage lower. however it was given to the girl with the higher results which crushed the other girl as she did almost as well. pak nicholas mentioned that there are too much orphanages in indonesia and this is truly the problem.

these are the kinds of realities you do not hear about and i was truly saddened by all the things they had shared with me. ibu and pak nicholas are super strong individuals who are determined to love and protect the children under their care even if the monetary support seems bleak. ibu nicholas told me to proceed with the letter and pass it to her as soon as possible as there are two girls who will be open to share their stories with me. i was elated by their support and thank them profusely for sharing their perspectives with me so openly. i told them i’d see the both of them and all the girls really soon.

after our meeting, the three of us head down to a warung for soto. the residency has been especially enlightening in two of my most favourite topics; language and food. risa and bule have been nothing less than enthusiastic to share and answer all my curiosities and questions about bandung and indonesia as a whole. that aside, soto in singapore is pretty different from the one in bandung. bandung uses rice, su’un with chicken strips and a half-boiled egg as well as a squeeze of lime, sambal and sweet soya sauce whereas ours is normally rice cakes, beansprouts and chicken with sometimes a side of potato cutlet and sambal kicap (chilli padi in salty soya sauce). as it was an intensive three and a half days, i told the both of them that we should all take a rest for a couple of hours

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day 3: cikapundung antiques

after a good afternoon in rumah cemara, risa and I decided to head towards cikapundung as Pak Asip, whom i met during my visit to Astana Ayar, recommended the place for more rare finds. we were stucked at gegerkalong for an hour waiting for the arrival of our second gojek. again, i left without risa with my battery almost running flat, as I could see my first gojek driver was getting a little agitated from all the waiting. telling risa to meet on level 3 straight in the building itself, hoping that it is not as big as astana ayar, i made my way to cikapundung. the rider was grumpy and said that we should not have made him wait so long and he was losing his customers from all the delay but alas he exclaimed “kamu itu raja!” (the customers are always right). all i could do was apologize sheepishly, embarrassed by our selfishness and I decided to tip him an extra RP10,000 for delaying his time.

On the third floor in cikapundung feels like beach road but with an array of beautiful antiques and junk, vinyls, radios, television sets old cameras and toys; each shop is a time portal to a different era. I went through several shops and could not help but wonder how these objects were acquired. I manage to score some more photos  at a shop and walked around to scour for more objects that I can incorporate in my work. Similar to Astana Ayar, i felt i was in an apocalyptic film and this was the enclave for survivors. On the first floor you can buy all sorts of electric hardware. One of the shops that I went to had an old suitcase and I thought it’d be perfect to somehow weave it into the project. the idea of a suitcase, hidden with all your personal belongings, frame the ideas of visible/invisible narratives of the mundane elements of a person such as his clothes, his shoes, his socks, his toiletries yet behind it all frames the person in a particular position that is between actual and fictional.

When Pak Lili, who is the shop owner, opened the suitcase there was a colony of mould and other strange things. He offered to clean it up for me for an extra 2.50 which I thought was a good enough bargain and made a deal to come back the following week. He asked about my project and showed me several old photographs of which I bought several. I saw a box of slides that had medical documentation of a baby with a tumour and one or two slide images of children. However i felt it may not fit with the aesthetics i was trying to bring out. He even showed me old comics and children’s books. After Pak Lili’s shop, we visited another hole in the wall and I saw a really old 16:9 earthy orange kaleng keropok (a container that you’ll find in almost of the warungs usually used to contain the crackers) that was perfect. However, I was not sure how the works will materialise at the moment and needed some time to think about it. Pak Edy was a colourful character who had stories to share for almost all the artefacts in his store. He showed us old tobacco pipes (all from different periods of history), a handheld machinery that heats up coal to make stained glass and makes sounds of rust (he calls it teknologi rakyat, which is the nation’s technology) and an old grandfather’s clock that he insisted was not for sale. when we pestered him to tell us the story, he refused to share it claiming it was too long. he showed us almost every item in his shop, even an old german army helmet. Pak Edy makes miniature ships and his own crossbows, beautifully crafted power machines that shoots arrows at high speed, according to him, and cut flesh almost instantaneously. He even demonstrated to us the might of the crossbow by shooting it at a wooden chair and it moved so fast, there was smoke when it hit the target. Pak Edy was just a collector previously but had the shop for a month now. He said he loves being in cikapundung because he is surrounded by antiques on a daily basis.I told 

definitely see myself visiting this place several times during the residency.

Risa and Bule brought me to the famous mie rica kejaksanaan along braga and since it has pork inside i ordered spicy  prawn noodles which was so good! bule told me about cikapundung river and how it was made to emulate european river towns. he even told me that this street was popular because it was the first place in the whole of indonesia to have an asphalt wall. alas, the asphalt wall is not preserved and is gone now. the river is heavily polluted and not what it used to be. bandung as a city may be highly polluted and heavily populated but it possesses a charm that singapore does not have; the people are passionate about the city and know their histories whereas it cannot be said about us singaporeans. maybe its all the white-washing of histories that have indirectly birth the sterile and cold character of singapore

on a separate note, i experienced a sudden blackout and could not find the keys to my room or my phone and was hand-grabbing everything for a good five minutes. located outside of the house, i am the only person staying on the woman’s floor (the house has separated lodgings for men and women). finally i found my keys and head downstairs to see a young man parking his bike.  i asked him to help me and he looked at me sheepishly and asked “who are you?” to which i explained and he brought me to a room and asked me to knock the door. i told the man (who i am guessing is my landlord) to assist me and he asked me the same question, “who are you?” and i could not help but laugh at the silliness of the situation. finally he showed me the switch and told me its all good. oh what a day.

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day three: Interview with Efa

Efa is probably in her late twenties wearing an expression to show thats she is constantly deep in thought yet not that of someone who is troubled. We sat down for my first interview and I told her to tell me how she feels, only the parts that she is comfortable to share. As mentioned, due to the sensitivity of the subject, I had to change my methodology where first and foremost should focus on building a relationship with these individuals rather than forcing them to workshop the processes that I came up with back home.

Efa told us that her first relationship started when she was in high school with a man and it lasted four years. She was three months pregnant when he left her and she married a man from her neighbourhood who could accept her situation and the child she was carrying. However, she mentioned that his family who knew of her situation will rake up the past and this created unnecessary tension in their marriage. She kept the truth from her first born though there was one instance where a neighbour and close friend of hers almost told her then, four year old daughter, that her father is not her biological father. Given that the daughter was still too young to understand, the matter was kept a secret after Efa warned her neighbours/close friends not to reveal the truth. Growing up, her daughter have asked her several times how come her face, skin colour or hair was not the same as her younger sibling. Efa just ignored these questions.

When I asked how long she wished to keep the truth from her, Efa struggled with her words. She said maybe when her daughter is much older, she will tell her the truth but now, since she is only eleven years old, she may not be ready mentally or emotionally. I told her that the big reveal can be more painful when they are teenagers as they are becoming adults, and their emotional state might not be as strong. I shared with her my mother’s own experience, how she is unable to accept the truth upon finding out by accident when she found her original birth certificate hidden at home. Efa confessed that she agrees but can’t find it in her heart to tell her.When I asked whether she have met her first born’s real father again and whether he was aware of her daughter’s existence, she mentioned that he knew but did not care or wish to take responsibility over the child’s development.

After years of conflict with her husband, Efa separated with him and got pregnant again by a different man, a soldier, during the process of mediation between herself and her husband. The soldier left her when her third daughter was nine months old, and he was also discharged from the service, and she had to fend for three kids on her own. She never met him again. Hesitantly she decided to move back in with her parents. When I asked if her parents could accept her, she said that they saw the situation that Efa put herself in as something beyond their control but they helped her take care of her kids. One of her sisters even wanted to adopt her third daughter to lighten Efa’s load but told Efa that if she does, Efa can never confess the truth, that she is her real biological mother, to her third daughter. However Efa turned down her request saying it will be hard when they meet each other frequently during family get-togethers. During these times, Efa mentioned it was the hardest period in her life. She was teary, yet did not cry or lose control of her emotions but I could tell that recalling that part of her history was very painful. She mentioned that she felt like an outsider in her own house and was struggling until she met the people of Rumah Cemara. From there, she was motivated to carry on figthting for her kids and herself. Few years later her husband wanted to null their separation and start anew. However he refuse to accept her third daughter and in addition could not promise that his family will put the past aside even if he could. After much coaxing and persuasion, her husband agreed to register the third daughter’s certificate under his name as the father but Efa still was not convinced as he was still unable to promise that his family will accept her without any discrimination.

At the moment her third daughter is four and although she was accepted to preschool under an unofficial birth registration document, she has to have an official birth certificate to register for kindergarten. When I asked her if she has heard of a fake birth certificate, she said it was not a solution she wanted as the husband’s name will not be in it and it will just be her name. I asked her why not opt for it as the future of her marriage is ambiguous at the moment and she said that it will be difficult to explain to her daughter such a complex situation if in the end she and her husband manage to reconcile. From her hesitation, I knew she did not want to add to the already existing stories she has created to protect her children from getting hurt when they do find out. Similar to her elder sister, the four year old have started asking how come she looks different from her other siblings. “why is my hair curly?” she asked one day or “why is my skin darker than the rest?” she asked on another. Efa mentioned that there are a lot of things she has to face in the future. Not only does she have to tell them of the truth in terms of their biological origins, she also has to tell them that she is HIV-Positive. Her first daughter have been asking her about the daily medication she took and she said that those are vitamins to keep her healthy. But Efa knows that one day, when she is really sick, she has to let them know.

It is truly heartbreaking to hear an account of someone who is stuck between a rock and a hard place yet keeping strong simply for the future of her kids. I am wondering if such curiosity among kids in how they look is innate and are these questions asked  by every children at that age, or that somehow they know that these gaps do exist and that some things do not make sense to them. Its still a long way before I can tap into the mental psyche of these individuals and I know that the experiences and how they overcome it will be different for all of them. I hugged Efa and said that knowing that she has worked so hard to ensure the future of her children, I am sure that even if they know the truth they could still accept her and not blame her for it.

I planned to meet Efa again in the near future when she is teaching soccer for the homeless street kids of bandung. The experience itself, hearing her stories of struggle is humbling and painful all at the same time. Again, I can’t help to think, does talking about it help? Is the methodology that I come up with a good way for them to release their emotional tensions? How do I know for certain? Finally, after a good day at Rumah Cemara, we bid our goodbyes and promise to visit sometime soon.

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day three: rumah cemara in gegerkalong girang on the second day, risa contacted panca dz, an artist who recently had an exhibition at Platform3 “bless this block”. Since 2014, he has been working  closely with Rumah Cemara, a non-profit organization focusing on HIV and drugs related issues – Panca has been involved in art therapy program for inmates with less than 6 months detention period in Banceuy prison, Bandung. "bless this block” comes up with a series of artworks based on Panca’s observation of how inmates survive in a prison. Behind the cell bars, the inmates learn to adapt and find their ways to kill time in new environment. Inside the prison, tattoo making has become an activity that has many meanings for the inmates; status symbol, a mark of identity or symbol of strength, personal note, or even as a bartering instrument. His work and practice runs on the same trajectory as anak anak abdullah in terms of humanizing the cultural stigmas attached to tattooing and how individuals survive and raise above them. I was there to have a chat with ginan koesmayadi, a quarter of the founders of Rumah Cemara and efa who has three children all from different fathers and was willing to share her experiences with me. I was feeling nervous but everything changed the moment I stepped into the place. There was a giant boxing ring, really huge chickens, folks who were hanging out and talking and two little kids just playing in the space. The energy and vibes are so positive that I immediately felt comfortable. Ginan is loud and funny with a vibrant personality and punk ethics. He is highly vocal about his position and how rumah cemara came to be. in the midst of our conversation, he exclaimed that he is an ocd, an adhd, an ex drug addict, a criminal, a convict, HIV positive, placed in a mental asylum before (this is because several years ago, there were no specific rehabilitation centre for recovering addicts so they were placed in asylums) and has been to several forms of hell and back but if he did not have such an experience, Rumah Cemara might not have materialised. I found out that the most damaging/addictive drug in Bandung is meth, which is the same as Singapore at the moment. Ginan shared with both Risa and I that he wants to create an inclusive space instead of the frequently used approach of exclusivity during the process of post rehabilitation. Rumah Cemara acts as a melting pot that diminish the boundaries between the communities in Bandung, the volunteers and the recovering/rehabilitated drug-users and people with HIV positive. There are activities such as the homeless world cup, boxing training for beginners, amateur and intermediate levels (I even saw a 14 year come in for practice and one of them started to train right after he was rehabilitated and now plays for the national team with an 8th ranking) and they also have focus groups that addresses issues such as hepatitis-c or medication costs. Rumah Cemara does not simply provide roles for their members to take on within the community but ensure that the tasks that they carry out create a sense of worth,responsibility and hope for these folks. Ginan also mentioned the same endorphins are stimulated in the neural system for someone who is boxing or abusing heroin. Due to this, and other scientific knowledge he believes in replacing the urge with an activities that requires routines, discipline and dedication. Whilst all of us are just conversing, I noticed two little children playing around with toy guns; dedeh and girang. girang is a bright-eyed boy with no front teeth and dedeh is a beautifully quiet and shy girl who loves to be around people. however after trying to make contact by doing some air-shooting with my finger-thumb toy gun, they slowly start to open up, girang at first and then dedeh subsequently. I also noticed regal fighting cocks as tall as my knees, clucking loudly in between our conversation. one of the men there were hand-feeding them yellow and orange coloured pills (one of each). “itu apa” (what’s that?) I asked, to which he reply which a smile, “vitamins”. “Ada nama nggak?” (do they have names). “Yang ini ghost, dia kuat dan dia dari burma !” (this is ghost, he is strong and from Burma!). Ginan mentioned that they train fighting cocks in Rumah Cemara but do not support cock-fighting that uses knifes attached to their feet as this meant that the cocks have to fight to their death. There are metal ball bearings attached to their feet for a few hours daily to train their strength and they receive a daily dose of vitamins. when I ask the man (did not ask for his name because he was pretty shy) whether he feels sad if one of the cocks were injured, he replied with a resounding yes saying that he is the one who takes care of them every day. I played a lot with the curious kids. Girang started to sing into my handheld audio recorder maybe because it looked like a microphone and there was at one moment between our running around and laughter, where he squeeze my cheeks and kissed me on my forehead. I melted from such a heartfelt gesture. definitely the best part of the experience so far! two hours passed and suddenly the people from the meeting committee (they were having a meeting (focus group) on decreasing the cost of the vaccine for hepatitis C, came bustling in with lunch. Efa was ready for her interview with me and we went into the room to talk privately about her personal experiences.

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Day Two: Visit to Astana Ayar

As my work is based on fictional/real narratives, I decided to visit several places that sells used items (barang bekas) that might have some artefacts such as old photos/letters/books to create my own personal perceptions of Bandung’s histories. Continuing on my work with alternative narratives and language systems thats more visceral in nature, I had to also understand the existing realities within the communities in Bandung. Risa and I decided to visit Astana Ayar, a place that is similar to Sungei Road but only five times bigger. I ordered my very first gojek from the app and ordered one for Risa as well. However, there was a delay and risa’s gojek arrived first. I ask her to leave without me and I waited for mine to arrive. The gojek rider used to work at a company that prints t-shirts for fifteen odd years but decided to leave as the chemicals that he was using was damaging his eyes. He said that working for the gojek is really good, they get 80% and the company gets 20%. However, i learn much later from Bule that there is a strong rivalry amongst the gojek riders with the existing ojek riders who are privatizetd companies that have been around for years and is a little bit more expensive. In Bandung where ojek drivers would verbally threaten or interrogate the gojek riders, who can be recognized by their green uniforms. In fact all of the gojek drivers who have been fetching me were not in their uniforms saying its more safe that way. There were even cases of physical violence in Jakarta that has been reported. As Gojeks are more standardised and safe for consumers, the economic structures of the existing ojeks are being threatened. However not many people in Bandung opt for Gojeks as they have their own personal trusted ojek riders who have been ferrying them for years.

Continuing on, I arrived and could not locate Risa. Astana Ayar is an almost endless line of wares (mostly metal spare parts, wirings, tubes and other industrial parts) are arranged by the side of the roads. the vendors were tough-looking and seemed to be characters from a post-apocalyptic film yet still returned my smile sincerely (which is one of the things I love about Bandung’s warm and endearing folks). After twenty minutes of looking around and walking from one long end to the other, Risa, still with her gojek rider, manage to find me. I felt bad as I was not consciously looking for her, especially seeing the petrified look on her face but I was comforted by the fact that she did find me in the end. We had mixed rice at a warteg and mid-way through our food a man came in and pointed to my camera. Mau jual nggak (do you wish to sell it?) to which i replied with an immediate no. He also mentioned that he was watching me walk on my own earlier looking lost and somehow that statement made my dodgy-radar ring pretty loudly. Risa warned me to be careful when I am alone and be my conscious of my surroundings.

After the meal, we went out to scavenge for good stuff. I found a quaint little shop at the start of Astana Ayar. The owner is Pak Haji Asip, a stocky man from Acheh who has the most mischievous eyes. He has been running the place for twenty years. He has dead clocks, chandeliers and mostly barang perhiasan rumah (house decorations). However, something caught my attention right at the back of the shop, almost hidden and waiting for me all these twenty odd years. It was a wooden box which was encased with glass so you can see through it. It looks like a lamp that you’d light up using a candle. It was perfect. Honestly at this moment, I do not really have specifics on how I’d create the physical works. However, with all the sensorial experience, the research I have been doing on Indonesian’s social climate regarding children born out of wedlock and the resistance I’ve faced in the last two days, my work will address the constructs of visibility/invisibility within the societal context. As my practice involves analogue visuals with an overhead projector in a performative environment, I wish to incorporate the same vocabulary that I have developed such as stretching spatial limitations, light manipulations and shadows/silhouettes into the works; invisibility will only be visible if you place a light on it (or if you wish to see it).

I told Pak Asip briefly about my project and mentioned that I was looking for old photographs. He took out a rusty copper tray with a mountain of old and faded photographs. There were photos of old army generals, tourist shots and a large selection of photographs of children and children with their mothers. Some had writings on the back and I thought this would be perfect source material for developing these fictional narratives. Pak Asip asked me if I was from India, and I told him that my father is from Melaka and is part Javanese and maternal grandmother is Bugis to which he mentioned “oh kamu ini anak prahu”  (child of the boat). Bugis were known as maritime traders or pirates. He asked me if I knew who Tan Melaka was, a Bugis pahlawan (hero/fighter). When I asked him why Tan Melaka had such a Chinese name, he said that the Buginese people are diverse as they travel the seas and he mentioned that Acheh is an extension of the Bugis people. He asked me to trace my family tree and said that ancestral lineage is important. Akar kamu itu penting ya (knowing your roots in important). Its funny how a line (to know your roots) was one of the early inspiration of anak anak abdullah, here is the same line being spoken by a complete stranger several miles away. 

We bid our rushed farewells as I hailed for a cab and I told him kalau panjang umur, jumpa lagi (if our lives are long, we might meet again)

[aaainbandung]

day two: meeting with pak rosid

I had a meeting with Pak Rosid as suggested by Heru to try and connect to the communities in Cigadung first due to proximity. There was also Pak Nanut, from Subang and Pak Tisna Sanjaya who is an artist in Bandung. When I mentioned my project nervously, with the help of Heru, I could see that Pak Rosid’s expression changed drastically and he wore a weary look on his face. He immediately asked for the purpose of doing this project and mentioned, just as Heru did that it is a sensitive topic and there is an aib (shame) attached to it and usually the aib is hidden and should not be excavated unnecessarily. I suddenly felt the weight of my responsibility as an artist to not exploit the emotional state of these people.

Pak Nanut shared about his experiences in Subang. The villages would marry off the women who conceived out of wedlock to their partners just to save the position of the child. However in cases where there are no men who wishes to take responsibility, someone would volunteer and they would not consummate the marriage and proceed with divorce the following days. Pak Nanut also mentioned that there is a smaller village in Subang where crime is rampant and the village is struggling economically, families would encourage men visiting their villages to have sex with their daughters in exchange for cash. As sex is more open in these villages they are probably several children born out of wedlock.

Pak Tisna was encouraging to the project but did not manage to provide any contacts. However the whole conversation/meeting was a helpful beginning to the progress of Anak Anak Abdullah. I knew I had to change my approach, in terms of the workshops I was planning to organise with participants in Bandung as it seem from what was mentioned it will take time to penetrate and build trust with these individuals before they wish to share their experiences.

back in Singapore, the invisible community that forms the basis of my current research is getting positive visibility. i have more materials to work with, more dialogues and more perspectives at the very moment. however this is still seen stemming as a policy-problem and not from cultural repercussion/societal pressures as well. baby steps at least. However, the issues of children who are born out of wedlock is still a big giant white elephant in bandung's vibrant room. it doesn't help that I am an outsider trying to penetrate into personal/highly sensitive experiences of people i may only meet this once in my life.wishing not to penetrate, but permeate as well, i am in a conflicting headspace at the moment, not in a bad way, just in a way where it questions my responsibility as a human first, then as an artist.

On another lighter note, I saw Pak Rosid’s work for the coming) Indonesian Independence Day (17th August). I did not know that Sukarno was a charismatic orater of his time and did several powerful speeches. Others shown are founding fathers and mothers of indonesia. one the table there is the indonesian flag and a book with sukarno’s speeches.

[aaainbandung]

day one (board meeting)

i met the board and staff members of Platform3 and we had a casual talk (ngobbrol ngobbrol) about the project. Via and Endira, who is managing the space gave me tutorials on how to handle the currency in Bandung. Honestly I think it would be a week before I completely master it. The two of them and Risa gave me an orientation of Bandung, a guide book (with details of good places to eat which is important, sustenance for the body is sustenance for the soul) and importantly how to get around. Gojek is the best way as it is only 10,000 rupiah at the moment (equivalent to a dollar!) for anywhere around 10km. Ojeks are bikes and Gojek is an app that standardised the cost and give you information about the driver. They also gave me details of places to visit. I also met Heru and Rifky, better known as Guro, both curators of Platform3. It was nerve-wrecking for me honestly to convey the reason of wanting to explore such a sensitive topic. Firstly, I am just an outsider to the place and secondly, I would only have about a month to develop the work. That aside, they were very open about the matter. However they voiced their concerns that it will be hard to penetrate the community with such a strong theme. Heru suggested asking Pak Rosid, who is the landlord and a brilliant self-taught artist, as he might know people who can provide me the right channels for discussion. 

Rifky mentioned about Nice Boy, a photo exhibition that was done by Tino Jumini. He  was adopted by a dutch family in the seventies. Apparently during the Sukarno era Dutch families were encouraged to adopt Indonesian children as a exchange of their cultural diplomacy. Dutch families, who were born in Indonesia, romanticised the ideals of Indonesia in their minds and in some warped sense of exoticization, bring a child back home with them similar how they would for souveneirs or keepsake of a place. The exhibition was called Nice Boy because he found a photo of himself as a child, with the words Nice Boy written at the back. The children were exploited as objects for political relations. Tino also seek out his real mother and found her. However, he did not prepare himself for the ugly realities which awaited him. The mother’s family had a sort of financial expectation placed on his return. He took his mother’s maiden name, Jumini. However I am not sure if he continued to mend ties with her afterwards. Heru also suggested visiting orphanages just in case they can connect me to their previous alumni. 

[aaainbandung]

its been five days now in good old bandung. the people have been nothing but warm, big-hearted and open. the city is chaotic, yet somehow there is a dissonance of slowness in the way the people live their everyday lives. upon my arrival I was greeted by my assistant Risa, her partner Bule and their friend Luqman. They fetched me in a bright yellow volkswagen and brought me out for supper. Most of the Bandung people are natural foodies, given the wide array of cheap and good food around. they ordered cireng which is tapioca flour, deep fried with batter, and singkong thailand, boiled cassava in coconut milk. it was all so good! we touched lightly on the situation of illegitimate children and I was told that false birth certificates can be acquired (at a price of course) Bule knew of a family member who manage to get the fake birth certificate because she knew of someone who is working in the organization. According to all three of them, although this is a common occurrence in Indonesia, cases of the rights of children out of wedlock is not discussed openly in the public sphere.

After a night of good laughs, good food and meaningful conversations, they send me back to my kos (a room in a dorm with a toilet attached). It is just 3 minutes walking distance from Platform3. We arrived pretty late and had to wake the lady up for the wifi password and I felt thoroughly bad for it as she was sound asleep. However, I did not realise that my room, with two mattresses on the floor, had no pillows, blankets or towels. I did not want to wake the lady up again so I decided to rough it out the first night (which honestly wasn’t too bad). 

Day One

As I would only meet the board of directors and staff members of Platform3 at 3pm. I decided to explore Cigadung Raya Tengah. Arming myself with my camera, I was surprised at how open people were to being photographed. They kept asking “mahu photoin nggak? (would you like my picture). Walking for a place to eat, I met a couple of nice looking boys who were asking me where I was from “asal dari mana? (where are you originally from?) ” This is a recurring question and normally the first one that would be asked upon the first encounter. It would be followed by “kamu orang apa?” (what ethnic group are you?) These boys were teaching me a little bit of Sunda through the confusion and miscommunication. Sunda is the second language in the schools of Bandung next to their main language, Bahasa Indonesia There are apparently 700 hundred languages in Indonesia. They thought me simple phrases such as nami abdi ila (my name is ila). I told them that since I am spending a month there we could spend five minutes each day to teach me Sundanese, to which it send them roaring with laughter as I bid my goodbye.

I stopped by a Warteg (Warung Tegal) which is technically an assortment of rice and dishes. run by a lady and her husband with a scrawny black and white cat. Tegal is a place in Central Java though the people whom I’ve met claimed that there are no wartegs in legal, just warungs. I had ikan emas (which literally translated as goldfish), tempeh (fermented soy beans) and sop sayor (vegetable soup). The lady just sat there almost not moving, quietly staring into nothing, oblivious that I was watching her. She caught my gaze several minutes later, with a nameless expression on her face which is probably ascribed to melancholia caused by long hours of waiting.

Finally, after a good meal (around $2.00) I made my way to Platform3 only realizing I was too early when I arrived. The place was locked and I continued with my exploration of the neighbourhood. I saw kites stranded on the electric lines almost at every turn; some looking intact and pristine, others tattered and torn but all of the moving haphazardly from left to right. I was inspired by the qualities of these kites and felt almost immediately that I had to incorporate these ideas into my work. 

[aaainbandung]

Anak Anak Abdullah is an ongoing research based on cultural expectations and its effects, on exploring gaps in identity and blurring lines between factual and mythical narratives. Abdullah is the standardised mythical surname that is appropriated by fatherless children who are birthed outside of wedlock or adopted by single maternal figures in Singapore. In a patriarchal society, Singapore encourages nuclear family structures; one complete with a father and mother figure. In Islam, illegitimate children borne out of wedlock are results of haram (sinful) acts. In Islam, Abdullah is translated as servant of God or God's slave and although it is decreed by the Prophet Muhammad (P.B.U.H) that an illegitimate child take the mother's name as a surname, Islamic scholars changed it to Abdullah to fit the societal norms of acceptance.

Mythical Abdullah becomes the imagined patriarchal figure for fatherless muslim children in Singapore as it is considered shameful to be birthed out of wedlock. On a personal level, I relate to the stigma attached to the name Abdullah as my mother was adopted and conceived out of wedlock. At the same time, because of this stigma, my mother and consecutively myself have a missing ancestral line as the identity of her real father was kept from her to protect her from the the truth. Due to this, there is always a missing piece when I am explaining my ethnicity and this affects how I communicate my identity to myself and to the environment around me.

Unearthing these fragments and stringing these gaps will be the basis of Anak Anak Abdullah and the work will centre around my personal pursuit to challenge the societal stigmas attached to the children born out of wedlock. Communicating one’s identity through different language systems, primarily narratives based on actual experiences will form the structure of the work.

Through the residency, I aim to compare these stigmas to other Muslim communities/societies and understand its prevalence or lack of it. What sort of stigma is then attached to illegitimate children if there is any to begin with and I feel that Bandung would be a good starting point to compare the social phenomena; of how a cultural norm is portrayed as truth in the guise of religious beliefs.