What does it mean to be "Indonesian"?

Years ago, I was back in Indonesia after spending 5 years in Australia. I decided to leave Australia after my mother’s cancer diagnosis so I could live with her to care for her. After spending 5 years in Australia, it was bizzare to return back home. Obviously the language is different, the air temperature, the way people dress, the societal attitudes towards religion, food, advertisements, everything was different.

However, returning home made me realise that I am Indonesian more than I am Australian. First things first, there is the genetic makeup - which is the obvious bit. Even though my brain has been wired to speak English most of the time, I think in English, I dream in English, but for a large part of my life, the first 17 years of my existence I spoke Indonesian.

Upon my return from Indonesia, I also committed to re-learn my father’s ethnic culture. We are Javanese. The arts, the spirituality, the values have been instilled in our family when I was growing up. My father has a very close connection to the Solonese Royal Palace (Keraton Surakarta Hadiningrat), therefore re-learning the culture was a very privileged experience for me. I learned traditional court dancing in Solo, taught by the legendary maestros. I re-picked up the language, the low Javanese from my everyday life, and the high Javanese from the royal palace (which I am still pretty shit at). But I pushed it all the way, I performed dancing every weekend, learned traditional singing and also recited the macapatan, or prayers in the form of a song. I participated in spiritual events, pilgrimages to sacred volcanoes, and offered my translation services for the Royal Palace whenever a foreign ambassador visited.

After a number of years of being acquainted with the inner palace works, His Majesty King Pakubuwono offered me a royal title. Which I declined at first because I didn’t think it was necessary. Yet, it angered my father, who forced me to apologise and accept it anyway. I never used my title for anything. It was just something to ease my access to the royal palace.

My love and devotion to the Javanese civilization grew year after year and I feel content to represent myself as an Indonesian person that I’ve always wanted to be.

Until one day, a friend of mine made a remark. I would describe her as someone hyper-religious. Very Islamic and never hesitated to comment or criticise those who are not religious. She used to wear a hijab Al-Amira or even longer, a Khimar or a Chadar. I was never bothered by that, it’s her choice, the same choice I made to study dancing or learn Javanese philosophy.

She said “Lex, you’re way too foreign. You’re an Indonesian girl but you have a foreign attitude”.

I, Alexia Sulistyono, too foreign?

Sure, I speak English, I speak my mind, I drink beer but… what? I was so shocked when she said that. It consumed my mind for days.

Am I too foreign?

These words came out of a woman who wore a chadar, obsessed about speaking Arabic, takes the Qur’an literally. Somebody tell her that Islam came from a foreign land! She didn’t realise what she was doing was also not “Indonesian”.

So what does it mean to be “Indonesian”?

While 80% of Indonesia is Islamic, are the 20% not Indonesian? Do I not qualify? Me, Alexia, who spent her time off reading Sastrajendra Hayuningrat? (Granted, its basis came from India, but it was rewritten on a Javanese point-of-view) I’m not Indonesian enough? I know how to sanggul my hair without assistance. I know how to fold my jarik without assistance. I dance the gambyong, I recite the macapat, I even have no shame partying with Campur Sari music, I eat nasi bungkus with my hand while sitting cross legged on the floor, and you call me foreign?

Ask yourself. How many girls who were born and who grew up in Jakarta know how to do all of that? (Each to their own ethnic culture, of course).

This made me contemplate how I am never just one thing. I was too Western in Indonesia, while I was too foreign when I was in Australia. Now, I live in France, where for sure I am foreign. I look like nobody here. Nevertheless, I do live quite a French lifestyle. I hike mountains, I drink wine, I speak my mind, I eat coldcut, I love patisserie. So what, does that make me French? No. Absolutely not.

When people ask me, “where are you from?” I always say Indonesia. I was born there, and my first 17 years of my life was spent there. I understand many aspects of the cultural/ethnic backgrounds, especially the Javanese. I occasionally talk about Indonesian politics. I am Indonesian.

But I have an Australian Passport.

So I am also Australian. At first I thought it was just citizenship-wise. But, I do like watching footy, I could gulp down a whole meat pie right now, I am fluent in Aussie slang, I know a lot about Australian history, their culture, their way of life.

What else am I?

And I realised, I don’t have to be just one thing. That is the essence of Alexia. She’ll always be the girl with the muddled-up background, but there are always many advantages to that. I am a child of the world. I am a flower that will grow anywhere you plant me.