Country Music—The Dangdut of America. Alive in Indonesia

In the Capital, Banda Aceh, where I have been for the past two weeks, I made a friend who opened up a backpacking equipment store. He likes to climb mountains and go cave-ing. We talked quite a bit about my walk last year and came up with ideas to motorbike the massive island of Sumatra, ferry to Java and then make it to Bali. It’s Saturday night so we decided to drive around town. There’s not much to do and the youth seem to be rather frustrated. Boys and girls are not allowed to mix, alcohol is completely prohibited except for dingy speakeasy’s for the rare alcoholic, and also some pricey locked away restaurants that are strictly for foreigners/non-muslims. We drove around town for a while.

We got in the car and he put in a tape. John Denver came on and he said he loves this music. “Are there still cowboys in America?” I didn’t really know what to say…

“Are there still guys who wear flannel shirts? Is there still livestock in the US? I really want to go to Oklahoma. I have no desire to go to the cities. I really want to see America but I want to see the ranches—Texas, Montana, West Virginia.” I tried to think about what his visions of America was like. John Wayne…?

We stopped for coffee (see “Jangan Terlalu Manis” log) and some other friends showed up. Someone had heard of a billiards hall that had just opened up. We drove around some more, through a long and generally crowded street, there were motorbikes lining the sides of the streets. People were getting their spots ready to watch some motorcycle street racing. It Reminded me of rural America and stock-car racing. Pretty dangerous for a major street in the middle of the Aceh Capital however.

We drove around Banda and the city was really crowded. They explained to me that because there is nothing to do, and that they are not really allowed to do anything, people mostly just waste gas by driving around town and guys and girls riding two per motorbike yell and flirt with each other. There seems to be no other way.

We arrived at another coffee shop and walked to the back, through a dark corridor and up a flight of stairs. Techno music was pumping and there were three billiards tables as I descended into the cloud of cigarette smoke. The sign on the wall said “It is illegal to drink hard alcohol and gamble.” Next to the sign there was a poster of Absolut Vodka and another of a very scantily clad Jennifer Lopez. Playing cards and pool are a symbol of gambling and are looked down upon in Aceh. People don’t even play chess—a very popular game in rural areas throughout North Sumatra; but I suppose that stops at the Aceh Border.

Playing pool for a couple hours it would have been nice to sip on a beer but we had to settle for cold tea in a bottle—a favorite across Indonesia. Selling Alcohol is too risky. There is a specific police task force called WH that are assigned solely to protect Sharia Law, specifically punishing any alcohol trade/consumption, gambling, the mingling of unmarried men and women, and the incorrect use of attire (women must wear Jilbabs, clothes that are not tight, and covering their bodies completely except face and palms).

At the end of the night and on my way home, I had had a good time but my friends seemed unsatisfied. They wanted to do something a little more exciting, perhaps mingle with women their own age or have a place to more freely express themselves.