Tenaga Surya (Solar Energy) in Tano Batak

The Boat Budaya relies on solar energy devices. When the sun sets and the boat is not moving, there is no electricity (the generator only works when the boat is moving). That is when we blow up the Luminaid cushions and place them beside us as we eat so that we can see the food in the pot. At night we dangle one or two from the roof or place it on the floor so that there is a bit of ambient light if anybody has to get up in the night.

Sunning the Luminaids while waiting for the Boat Budaya
at Tabo Cottages (Photo by MJA Nashir)

Our Boat Captain, Mr. Siregar, is very fond of the lights. He and his two assistants always borrow one at night so that they have one in the bridge where they sleep. Recently, the captain asked me if he could have one. I told him about our goal of sharing information about solar energy and how it could transform Tano Batak. The Captain was enthusiastic. He wants to share the information with his future passengers and perhaps even order a few more. We are all dependent on our Luminaids. The handy handle allows us to carry it easily and hang it everywhere, including the door of the toilet.

Yesterday the Regent of Samosir Island visited us and I showed him our array of solar equipment. He, too, was immediately taken with the practical value of it. There are parts of Samosir where there is still no electricity and solar energy would alleviate many problems. I gave him one of our Luminaids. The reporters who had accompanied him on his visit to the Boat Budaya all immediately wanted one as well.

We use the WAKAWAKA lights regularly as well. The WAKAWAKA light is more powerful than that of the Luminaid, so we use it differently. It is useful as a flashlight to light up a path in the night or to read. Sometimes we fix our Wakawakas in the roof of the boat and let the light shine down on what we are doing.

I am struck by how technically oriented Febrina is and how quickly she adapts to life with solar energy, how experimental she is. She tries to charge two cell phones at once, tried to charge her camera battery, tries to charge while the solar cell is sunning. She is never without her light. Last night, I noticed that she had accidentally pressed against the on-button in the night in her sleep, and I felt like a caring Mom when I turned it off for her gently so that her sleep would not be disturbed and her batteries would not run down.

It is the rainy season, so we have to be careful to grab the sunlight when we can. It makes us conscious of the presence of the sun. We need a safe place to lay out our solar cells and we do not have such a place on our boat.

Yesterday, when the crowds of photographers climbed aboard to witness and document the boat races, we had to forego our sunlight because we did not want to risk losing our solar equipment. The hardship this entails is that we can’t charge our cell phones. In the back of my mind I am designing a Boat Budaya that will better accommodate our needs. It will have a protected place atop the roof where we can sun our cells. And perhaps that part of the roof will be made of glass so that we can tell at a glance if we have anything charging.

I had brought a Wakawaka for myself on this journey, but I gave it to Pak Jerry when we were still in Jakarta. As a driver, he immediately knew that it was indispensable for him. He can charge it on the dashboard while driving and he has it at night when he has to guard the car, sleep under awkward circumstances where there is no electricity, or charge his cell phone. Really, the instruments are ideal for Indonesian chauffeurs.

Ompu Okta was enamourned of the Luminaid. She loves its soft light. She has a bare lightbulb hanging above her loom at home and it bothers her eyes when she weaves at night. Time and again she asked to me to give her a Luminaid and I promised that I would give her one when we visit in her kampong.

Beyond that, I have given one to Pak Dian Sidauruk. He invited us to his home in Simanindo two days ago and impressed us with his lifestyle. He had chosen to make his home a model of tidiness, cleanliness and efficiency. He lives in a Batak house and has outfitted it so that it has the conveniences of a modern home. He is a remarkable man and immediately saw the benefits of solar energy lamps. He works with NGOs and is a leader. I know that he will make good use of the lamp and will share his knowledge of it with everybody who visits.

MJA Nashir took this photograph in Medan when we showed our

 film at the Suarasama Culture House. The luminaid 'cushions' 

are on the floor in front of our posters for the Pulang Kampung projects. 

The final scenes of Rangsa ni Tonun are displayed on the screen. 

The cushions provided just the perfect amount of light for watching the film.

I like selecting the places where I will donate the lights. Donating the lights is like donating my books and our film. They are seeds. We plant them and we hope they will grow. I think of Dirk and Sineke van Uitert back home, who donated these lamps. I know that they would agree with my selections. I also think of the idealist, Wibo Teerlink, who introduced me to the lamps and who sold them to us for a good price. I wish that they could all be with us. They would feel proud and fulfilled to see the good use to which their kind donations are being put.

Festival Danau Toba II

In the afternoon, Nashir’s reading of his poem about weaving in Tano Batak was brilliant. 

It was wonderful to have Marsius Sitohang present at the festival and he was once again willing to accompany Nashir, just as he had on the stage at Taman Mini. 

Especially the ending was sublime. I could understand why Nashir says that he feels a special click when he works with Marsius Sitohang.

With Lake Toba in the background and Lasma Sitanggang and Febrina Pakpahan holding up some of Stephanie Belfrage's textiles, the open-air stage couldn't have been better.

Festival Danau Toba III

I had low expectations of the evening. Justifiably. It was pouring with rain. The planned showing of Rangsa ni Tonun did not appear in the program and the hotel where it would be screened turned out to know nothing about it and was reluctant to open its doors for the event. Thompson decided at the last moment to re-locate the event to a café called Sekapur Sirih. He said that everybody had received a text message about the change. I had my doubts that anybody would turn up.

Nobody dribbled in. It was past curtain time and the café was still empty. Then Ibu Theodora, head of tourism for Samosir, appeared with some of her staff. She had seen our film and she talked to me about the need to maintain the weaving tradition. Then to my complete surprise, the Bupati and his wife appeared, and Christine Hakim was with them. We sat together at the table and talked about the nature of citizenship, the importance of the ‘feeling’ and knowledge of history and culture to becoming a true citizen of a nation.

Our little but amazing audience on a rainy night in an open cafe. (Photograph by MJA Nashir)

I presented a bit of a foreword, we showed the film 

We showed the film in a traditional Batak sopo, rather fitting, we thought. It was an intriguing part of the cafe. (Photograph by MJA Nashir)

and then I presented the team: Pak Jerry and Mas Nashir.  This was the first time I had presented Pak Jerry in public as a member of the team. He was amazing. He grabbed the microphone and thanked the audience, then asked if the Bupati would like to say a few words. This was the magic turning point. The Bupati’s speech stunned us all. 

Bupati Mangindar Simbolon was eloquent in his support of Batak textiles. (Photograph by MJA Nashir)

He was full of appreciation for the film and full of understanding about the tradition. He remembered indigo being made when he was a child. He underscored the importance of creating opportunities for knowledge to be handed down from elderly grandmothers to the youth. He is clearly a bright man and his impromptu speech was strong and good.

He then handed the microphone to Christine Hakim.  This amazing woman stunned me again with her ability to speak from the heart and to move her listeners. 

Christine Hakim inspires in the way she integrates heart and mind
(Photograph by MJA Nashir)

She pointed to Micro and Mini (Lasma and Febrina) and indicated that they represented talent and the will that should be supported by government so that the knowledge of the ancestors would not be lost. She talked about Batak textiles as something close to the soul, as having eternal importance to all of Indonesia as well as the Batak. By then I had learned that she is one of Indonesia’s most famous actresses and film-makers.

Pak Jerry posed for a picture with Christine Hakim. (Photograph by MJA Nashir)

Then it was Lasma’s turn to move hearts and minds. She asked if she could have the microphone. She stood up and spoke loudly and clearly. 

Lasma spoke loudly and well.

I recognized the young woman that we had recorded in 2011. Her words were strong. She urged young people to do something about maintaining their heritage saying that they would be responsible for the loss of their culture if they did not do something about it. She spoke respectfully, with self-awareness and conviction. She stunned everybody present. Including herself. A volcano inside her had erupted.

Our film was the pebble. The ripples in the water were stronger that night than they have ever been.

Everything concluded with the requisite group photograph.

Festival Danau Toba I

Yesterday we participated in the 2013 edition of Festival Danau Toba. Nothing went according to plan and if there ever was a final plan, it emerged at the last minute and was then very, very promptly not followed.

We were to be collected at 8 am and to mount the stage at 9 a.m as the first workshop of the day. We arrived at the muddy foot of the mountain at 9 a.m. Vehicles could neither enter nor exit without a great deal of slippery commotion and shouting. We climbed to the open stage under the threatening skies, carrying all of our heavy books, posters, bags, computers, textiles and found no stage managers present and no place to hang the textiles. No television. No sound equipment.

Then the drum group from West Sumatra started to practise and no sounds could compete. The grass was wet, the stage was wet, there was no place to sit and no place for our bags. With difficulty I found a discarded sack.

All of this called for one thing: an anthropological stance. It was time to distance myself from expectations and just let the festival be what it is, a festival on Samosir Island. Then the magic started.

Marsius and Sarikawan Sitohang arrived and climbed onto our stage along with a local acoustic group and whatever disappointments there might have been dissolved into admiration for the performers. This surely has to be the essence of Festival Danau Toba: local talent emerging and performing!

We suggested that the film’s theme song, the Weaving Song, could be one of the performed melodies but the problem was that there was no female vocalist. Inspired by the sphere of improvisation (and perhaps unencumbered by the fact that there was as yet no audience) I suggested that Febrina and Lasma be the vocalists. Why not? I hear their sweet voices every night. And the Sitohang brothers are brilliant teachers. The page with the words appeared from somewhere, Lasma and Febrina took the little bit of coaching to heart and then dared to perform on stage. They amazed everybody, including, and perhaps especially, themselves!  Afterwards they were filled with energy. People asked for their signatures and they gave interviews to leading Indonesian media.

Is this not the purpose of a festival? This kind of special meeting is only possible when the script is not too tight. Innovation. Spontaneity. Improvisation. In Indonesia “the moment” is so important and it cannot be rehearsed. It just happens and when it happens, it is pure magic.

Mikro and Mini did a super job! (Photograph by MJA Nashir)

We had lunch at Pondok Ganda, a beautiful house in Tomok. There I met one of the coordinators of the whole festival, Ibu Sari Madjid. She explained that her goal was to inspire local talent, not fly in “stars” from outside. I was so thrilled to hear her ideas. I had just had first-hand experience of how Festival Danau Toba could be a spark to encourage the revival of local talent and artistic skills.