One of the first seminars we had was on gender issues in Indonesia. There were three speakers, each covering differing areas of their expertise. The content of what they spoke of was nothing new to me, despite it being very context specific to Indonesian culture and politics. What I found greatly inspiring and very interesting was the women who led the seminar. They were incredibly passionate, forward thinking and exhibited great strength and determination when discussing their area of expertise, all while staying extremely connected and true to their cultural roots.
The Western conception of feminism often draws to mind a sort of ‘radical’ female form that has been popularised by the media, and this is often a one dimensional form of feminism that I think we often default to unconsciously. Whether we realise it or not, perhaps there is an idea in our minds of what a feminist is. I know for me, since coming here, I was a little surprised at myself for noticing this preconception that I never knew I possessed. Of the three speakers at the seminar, two were older Indonesian ladies in traditional clothing, who spoke searingly on varied topics surrounding the violation of women’s rights in Indonesia with surprising openness on matters of body autonomy and sex. I never would have believed that what a person wore would give me a preconceived notion of them, and know that I most definitely do not believe that wearing religious/modest clothing automatically makes a person ‘conservative’, but I realised I was a little taken aback at how open they were when speaking about matters that would make most people (regardless of where they are from) a little uncomfortable. All because they wore a hijab.
The Indonesian women I have had the privilege to meet and get to know since being here are generally soft spoken and quick to smile. They present with a gentle, calm way that I have found often belies a their sharp wit and strong opinions! In Jogja, the women typically wear headscarves or a ‘hijab’ when out in public spaces, and generally dress with their arms and legs covered. Most of them are Muslim, and it is the culture to marry young and start a family. I had an assumption that perhaps they might be a little disapproving towards foreigners entering their public spaces in revealing clothing, or possess a preconceived notion towards women who live lifestyles that differ from theirs, only because these conceptions happen within all cultures towards people who are/look different, or ‘sluts’ and ‘freaks’ would not exist. Rather, I have found them to be entirely embracing, and many tell me that they don’t expect non-Indonesians to act like Indonesians as it is not their way.
Despite their craze for Melbourne style hipster coffee brews, the foreigners (bule as they are typically referred to by the locals) way of being/living is perceived by the locals as something completely different and separate from their culture and beliefs, and therefore simply something of interest to observe, maybe sometimes to take a selfie with, but not something that has any bearing on their beliefs, culture or way of life. I wonder what the implications of this are for development practitioners who perhaps may bulldoze into a context such as this with their ideals of morality and humanity, and how a community such as this would thus respond to their initiatives of change or ‘aid’, when it is simply, in their own words “bukan cara kita”. If they cannot identify with us, or understand us then how should our efforts to ‘help’ them make sense to them, and likewise?
In particular with regards to family violence, where within the private space of the family, ties to tradition and culture run deep, I believe that there is no initiative that can be taken off a generic framework without actually being first deeply connected to and knowing the hearts and minds of the people. Indonesia with its complex and vastly varied and nuanced ethnicities and cultures is a searing example of how important context specificity and intersectionality is not just important but completely necessary. In having had the privilege to be around these Indonesian women, I feel that there is great wisdom and empowerment that can be drawn from culture and tradition, and that development efforts need to find its place within this space if it hopes to enact change that is truly in the interests of the community.