Aceh's drum of peace hits freezing Oslo

Endy M. Bayuni The Jakarta Post/Oslo

The temperature outside the Oslo Konserthus has hit below freezing point, but the 16 young women and men from Aceh, making their international debut, shake off the cold weather and any stage fright they may still have as they sing, beat the tambour, and dance around the stage in the Silat Aulia Dance.

The beating of the tambours, the only musical instrument used in most traditional Acehnese dances, moves faster over time. Lead singer Deden recites the lyrics, which carry a religious tone, and hits his instrument hard. He sets the tone and rhythm while seven others follow with chants and the beating of their own drums.

On center stage, two young men clad in yellow traditional Acehnese costumes, move and jump in the slo-mo that characterizes the silat, a homegrown martial art.

Six young women in equally colorful dress dance and circle the duo, brandishing rencong, the traditional Acehnese dagger. They were not real daggers though, for otherwise the Norwegian airport authorities would have confiscated them.

The 200-or so audience appreciated the performance, which was given by members of the Nurul Alam troupe. They had flown in from Banda Aceh last week for the Indonesian Cultural Evening hosted by the Indonesian Embassy in Norway.

It was a double treat for the guests: The second number, the Rapai I Geleng dance, was even more dynamic. Nine young men used not only the tambour, but also virtually every part of their body to make percussive noises, as they moved, clapped, slapped and sang in motion to their own rhythm. Again Deden, the musical director of the group, sang the lyrics and set the tone from the sidelines.

Both pieces were performed without any glitches, at least none that were apparent to the audience.

"We trained for 10 hours a day over the past month before we left Banda Aceh," a dancer, Nazaruddin, said.

The dancers, who had never set foot abroad before, had only a day to acclimatize to the chilly Norwegian winter. "Yes, the cold weather affected our bodies, and even the drums did not sound as sharp as they should have," said the young man who is in his last semester of his undergraduate economic studies.

Whatever shortcomings the dancers felt, it was not known to the audience, who were mesmerized by this rare performance of two very dynamic Aceh dances. A smaller number, the Bungong Jeumpa, which was performed by children of Indonesian embassy staff, also went down well with the audience.

"We came here with a mission of peace," Nazaruddin said.

Bukhari Daud, a linguistics professor with the Language Center at the Syiah Kuala University in Banda Aceh, said that the beating of the drum in Aceh traditionally signified the advent of peace.

"When the first beat of the drum is heard, all fighting and shooting stop."

At a seminar on the development of Aceh with cultural perspectives held at the University of Oslo, Bukhari recalled that long convoys of trucks loaded with drummers toured Aceh province to usher in the peace following the signing of the agreement between the government and the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) in August.

On Thursday evening, the drums of peace were again heard in a concert hall in Oslo. While the intention was to entertain and enlighten the audience present, the peace message was also aimed at Acehnese living in exile in Scandinavian countries.

The Indonesian Embassy in Oslo estimates that there could be up to 300 Acehnese political exiles and their families in Norway, mostly living in the port city of Stavanger. Most GAM leaders live in nearby Sweden.

There has been very little contact between the embassy and the Acehnese community in Norway for obvious political reasons. But the embassy hopes that with the peace agreement, there will be more. Some Acehnese have already made queries about the possibility of returning to their homeland.

One exiled Aceh family did turn up for the cultural evening and met and talked with some of the dancers.

Nazaruddin described how peace has brought a better life to him and his colleagues at Nurul Alam: "Now we can practice and perform in the evening. There are no curfews. Peace is just extraordinary," he said.

Most Acehnese like Nazaruddin were raised in a virtual state of war during the 30-year conflict.

Peace also meant the chance for the Nurul Alam troupe to reform and recruit. Like most institutions in Banda Aceh, the group was severely affected by the December tsunami. Three members of the troupe perished and they lost half of their costumes, instruments and props. Most members also lost family to the waves.

"We regrouped two months after the disaster," said Maulidar, who aspires to become a primary school teacher.

"We did not make any stage performances, but we helped teach children in refugee camps to dance."

In respect for the dancers, their experiences in the tsunami was deliberately not mentioned by the Aceh Cultural Institute.

Another tragedy hit the group with the death in July of its founder, fondly referred to by members as Ibu Hajjah Asnawani. The former primary-school teacher, who founded the group 30 years ago, died of an unknown ailment.

Deden, her adopted son, has taken over the job of coordinator for now. "Because of my seniority," he said modestly.

Tengku Khamsyahfuddin (Deden is his stage name) is a full-time musician who writes the scores for the dances performed by the group.

He turned the Rapai I Geleng from a normally seven-minute number into 25 minutes for the performance in Oslo.

"It was our biggest-ever performance," Deden said.