Blending cultures begets child of tomorrow

Evi Mariani, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

Diversity is a challenge faced by everyone. But for this young couple and their 18-month-old offspring, diversity is a way of life as they navigate the trepidations of accommodating three different cultural backgrounds and three faiths.

Minutes after Nayanda was taken from her mother's womb and put in a crib, her uncle whispered "Allahu akbar, ashaduanna Muhammadarrasullullah" into the right ear of the happy father, who in turn spoke the words into the baby girl's right ear.

Behind the uncle and the father, a group of eager relatives waited for their first peek of the baby.

There was Nayanda's Balinese grandmother and Chinese- Indonesian grandmother, her Muslim, Hindu and Catholic relatives, who had been waiting for her to be delivered for hours that night at a hospital in South Jakarta.

Nayanda Amarasriwasiti, who was given the Chinese name Zhu Hui Li, was born into a colorful family 18 months ago.

Though still a toddler, Naya has been exposed to a wider range of cultural and religious traditions than most adults.

When she was six months old, Balinese prays were recited by Hindu priests to ensure she would have a bright future.

Six months later, on Chinese New Year earlier this year, she donned a cute red cheongsam to receive hugs, kisses and the traditional ang pau (money in red envelope for health and fortune) from her grandparents in Bandung.

Occasionally, with her parents, she takes part in a religious gathering with her mother's Minangkabau (West Sumatra) Muslim side of the family.

Every day she is taught basic courtesy on being a good Muslim. With persistent patience her mother teaches her, little by little, to say alhamdullilah (praise be to God) and assalamualaikum (may God be with you) as well as how to conducts prays (shalat).

Her mother, Fifi Luckita, 31, is the third child of a mixed marriage of a Minang father, who died when she was only six, and Balinese mother, who died this year. Meanwhile, Naya's father, Rudy "Dodo" Sofian, 34, is the first child of a Catholic Chinese- Indonesian family.

The couple met in 1999, when the company where Fifi worked built an office building in Central Jakarta. Dodo was the interior designer for the office.

It took them only months to decide to marry.

"I was a Muslim and he was a Catholic. I myself did not see it as a problem because I was born into a colorful family. My mother was a Hindu who converted to Islam when she married my father," Fifi said.

However, Fifi's extended family from her father's side hails from Minangkabau and is known for their strictness in religion. So she told Dodo it could be a problem that he was Catholic.

The Minang family, it was said, had once rejected a marriage proposal because of religious differences.

"But he (Dodo) told me he would convert to Islam," Fifi said.

Dodo has never been staunchly religious -- a man with the kind of spiritual confidence who regards all religions as having equally beneficial objectives. Therefore, converting to Islam was no big deal for him.

Nevertheless, he was gripped with anxiousness when it came time to inform his parents in Bandung, West Java, and reveal not only his intention to marry a woman of a different ethnic background, but also convert to her religion.

Would his father, a deacon at a local Catholic church, be understanding?

At his parents' house Dodo sat in silence in the living-cum- dining room, gathering the courage to break the news.

"Pa, what if I convert to Islam?"

His father remained silent, his face not betraying whatever emotion may have flared inside.

As if trying to delay the inevitable, the father did not look at Dodo and instead continued going about his business in the same room until, at last he rose and disappeared into the kitchen.

One can only imagine the quiet emotional flurry erupting between the pots, pans and dishes.

For Dodo it was a painstaking endless wait. Eventually eternity ended and Dodo's father emerged from the kitchen, his manner foreboding, still not looking at Dodo.

What came from his mouth was wise in its simplicity: "You're an adult. You decide what's best for you."

That was the only reply Dodo got.

"All at once it felt like a heavy burden had been lifted," Dodo remembered.

Once he had received his father's consent, Dodo knew he would not encounter resistance from his mother. Later, without too much difficulty, his parents agreed to go to Jakarta to as party of the proposal party visiting Fifi parents.

Meet the family

In Indonesia, a wedding and the time leading up to it is often a nightmare for couples. Weddings are not a simple case of the bride and groom exchanging vows, but rather a social event involving the whole extended family.

Weddings of the same culture-ethnic background are often a headache, so one can imagine the trepidations of a ceremony involving widely differing cultures.

Dodo and Fifi's wedding was the first for their respective parents, thus experience was not something they could count upon.

Dodo's family -- which included aunts and uncles -- drove all the way from Bandung to Jakarta for the proposal ceremony.

On the drive to Fifi's house, one of Dodo's aunts who rode in the same vehicle repeatedly played Christian hymns on the car stereo.

"She did not say anything, but I knew she disapproved of my decision to leave behind Christianity," Dodo said.

Despite the silent disapproval of some, the whole family displayed unity and was nevertheless as supportive as they could be. Bringing fruit and Chinese fortune cakes, they could only guess at how this cross-cultural proposal would be conducted.

However, no one really knew what to expect from the future in- laws. Although some of the aunts had witnessed other proposal ceremonies, they had not encountered a cross-cultural nuance to one before.

At the same time, Fifi's Balinese family, having waited in her house in South Jakarta, was also a bit confused about the process of proposal ceremony.

The elderly family members had instructed one of the uncles acting as host to let Dodo's family speak first, so it would give the impression that Fifi's family were intent on the marriage.

What transpired has for Fifi and Dodo become an amusing memory, albeit a little regretful.

"For half an hour they spoke in circles. Full of pleasantries without really getting to the point," Fifi recollected.

"Meanwhile, my father, who was supposed to talk, was awkwardly silent," Dodo added.

Finally, Dodo's eldest aunt took the initiative by saying that they had come a long way from Bandung to ask for Fifi's hand in marriage.

After the aunt finished her speech, Dodo's father at last uttered his first words, a direct and brisk sentence: "So, do you accept the proposal?"

"I felt like lurching to the floor upon hearing such a curt sentence," Dodo remarked with a smile.

Later, Fifi was brought out and seated in the middle of the room full of guests.

From her "hot seat", she could hear Dodo's aunts whispering the Sundanese word for white, "bodas, bodas", referring to the color of Fifi's skin. Although she is not Sundanese, Fifi understands a bit of Sundanese.

Dodo's mother and the aunties are kind and amiable people. However, most of them had limited experience in closely relating to those of non-Chinese ethnicity. Hence their views are often painted by typical racial profiling, views formed not due to hostility, but because of ignorance and habit.

White-skin obsessed -- just like many people in this country -- they were reluctant to have a relative with darker skin, which they considered less beautiful than their own Chinese fair skin.

It was somewhat a relief to Fifi that she had gained initial approval from Dodo's mother and aunts, even if it was because of her fair skin. It also helped that several relatives remarked on the distinctive shape of her nose, which Chinese called 'hoki' (bringing fortune). The fact that she owned a house only solidified perceptions that she came from a well-off family.

With the proposal out of the way, next came all the challenges of preparing the wedding, which was set for three months later.

Because Dodo and Fifi had long been financially independent from their parents, they had the luxury of being able to plan the February 2000 wedding themselves without too much interference from the families.

Being an admirer of Balinese culture, Dodo agreed for it to be carried out in line with Balinese custom, and to dress up in Balinese costume.

But nothing would be simple in this marriage.

To respect the Minangkabau side of Fifi's family, they also agreed to dress in traditional West Sumatra wedding costumes in the morning during the actual marriage ceremony in front of a penghulu (religious leader).

But Dodo's family eventually also insisted that some cultural Chinese rituals be included.

"Days before the wedding, my mother insisted on having a Chinese ritual. After examining the schedule we agreed to hold the te pai ritual in the afternoon," Dodo said.

Te pai is a ritual where the bride and groom serve Chinese tea to elderly relatives, who give ang pau to bless the couple.

Dressed in Balinese wedding attire, Fifi and Dodo stood, served tea and bowed to the seated elderly relatives.

"We actually wanted to wear a Chinese wedding costume for te pai. But my Balinese costume was so complicated and heavy on the head. It would have been really difficult for me to change three times," Fifi said.

Despite all the differences, and some glitches, everybody left happy that night.

The Minangkabau family even gave Dodo the honorary title of Sutan Pandeka Mudo (Young Knight).

"I don't know why they chose that title. Perhaps it was because I dauntlessly overcame all the obstacles in marrying Fifi," a grinning Dodo remarked.

"The marriage was the first mixed marriage among my generation in the family. I think it somehow set a good precedent in my extended family because two other mixed marriages followed," Fifi added.

Through it all the cross-cultural experience somehow helped shed ethnic prejudices among the Chinese-Indonesian family. They learned to see that good and bad exist irrespective of ethnicity.

Building a family

Uncles, aunts and cousins may have had a lot to say in the run-up to the wedding, but when all the ceremonies were over Dodo and Fifi were left with just each other to face the daily tribulations of making a "mixed marriage" work.

Despite coming from different cultural and religious backgrounds, the two have much in common. They both grew up in a middle-income family living in a multicultural urban environment. Moreover, both are educated professionals.

The first year of their marriage was filled with common problems faced by any other newlyweds getting over the honeymoon hangover.

"I went through the first years of the marriage not expecting anything too ambitious," Fifi said, referring to their financial state at the beginning.

For the first two years the couple lived in a room in a boardinghouse in West Jakarta.

Fifi had a secure job with a steady income, while Dodo was starting his own interior design consultancy firm.

Armed with a facsimile machine, drawing tools and a pile of name cards and contacts, Dodo and Fifi decided to pool their resources to build up the consultancy.

Their company has grown from originally employing just three people to more than 15.

Four years after the wedding, they had Naya, who has become the central preoccupation of the couple.

With material needs taken care of, the couple inevitably faced the awkward decision on the issue of their child's faith.

"I never force Dodo to pray. If he does, I want it to be truly from his heart," Fifi said.

Dodo admits that he really only prays during major religious events -- Idul Fitri, Idul Adha etc. During Ramadhan he fasts. But he does no more than that, such as learn to read the Koran.

He quietly keeps issues of religion to himself, rising up as a Muslim primarily during social occasions.

Fifi, because of her colorful background, is also not the most devout of religious practitioners. However, she admits to being eager to learn more about her religion.

"I have a lot of questions about Islam. I was taught about sin and punishment, and told about how non-Muslims wouldn't gain a place in heaven," Fifi said.

"I could never understand that because I grew up among Hindu relatives. They are all kind and good people. I could not understand why they would not go to heaven," she added.

Fifi began Koran lessons with neighbors, who invited an ustadz (religious teacher) to instruct them.

"Each time Dodo would ask what I'd learned from the ustadz, and we would discuss it at length," she said.

Eventually they decided some of the teachings were bizarre, so Dodo suggested she find another teacher.

Later, Fifi read a newspaper article written by an Islamic teacher from Nurcholis Majid's Paramadina Foundation.

"The title was Inclusive Islam. I liked the article so I dialed 108 to find Paramadina's number," she said.

She got information that Paramadina offered Islamic classes on various topics like fiqih (Islamic jurisprudence), and religion and violence.

When she told her husband, Dodo also showed interested and they eventually ended up taking classes together.

"Some of the teachings are controversial for conservative Muslims," Dodo said. "The teachers said that all religions have the same objective. I know that some Muslims find that mind- boggling."

"Some of my neighbors reprimanded me for taking the course at Paramadina. They said they were wrongful teachings," Fifi said.

By then the couple had already decided to raise their daughter as a Muslim.

"I'm not worried even if her father does not know how to recite the Koran. She can learn these things from Islamic teachers. And besides, compared to myself, Dodo has more extensive knowledge about the history of Islam," Fifi said.

"What is important to me is for Naya to grow up to be a tolerant Muslim," she said. "I don't know what my reaction would be if she married a hard-liner when she grows up, a man with a beard and all. I don't think I'd mind as long as he respected Naya's colorful family," Fifi surmised.

No one knows for certain what kind of challenges Naya will face when she grows up and starts to question her identity.

Given her parents' background, it would not be surprising if she becomes yet another Indonesian respectful of this great country's pluralism: respect for other's differences without necessarily changing their identities and beliefs.

Four decades from now, when Indonesia commemorates its first centenary, Naya will have grown up and made something of herself, hopefully one of her generation's vanguards in building a true multicultural nation.