'Invitation to a Wedding' tells of Islam in Indonesia

'Invitation to a Wedding' tells of Islam in Indonesia

By Dewi Anggraeni

MELBOURNE (JP): If the title of the latest film from Olsen-
Levy Productions, "Invitation to a Wedding", conjures any images
in your mind; splashes of bright colors, loud music, traditional
nuptial ceremonies; all components in a traditional Indonesian
wedding, as ubiquitous as durians in season in street stalls, you
are only partially right.

Invitation to a Wedding is a 60-minute documentary concerning
Islam in Indonesia. Unlike Olsen-Levy's earlier documentary on
Indonesia's historical development, aptly named Riding the Tiger,
Invitation to a Wedding is much lighter in overall tone.

It is, nonetheless, not all lightness and merriment
throughout. Instead, it weaves in and out of playfulness and
seriousness, sometimes in an almost seamless manner. At times,
when the dialog begins to ponder, the focus shifts back to the
realm of legerete, aided by local music and humor.

The narration, by the director Curtis Levy, often reveals a
contraction of cross-cultural clashes, and forms a fusion that
can only be seen as unintentional; yet this contraction colors
the background very effectively.

The film opens with the film crew desperately phoning around
for someone to repair their camera, while Abdurrachman Wahid is
waiting in the lobby with his entourage. Gus Dur, as he is better
known, is the leader of a 30-million strong Moslem organization
in Indonesia.

It's like keeping the Pope waiting, narrates Levy. The laconic
Australian voice seems incongruous with the seriousness of the
message. And, as the viewer watches, the scene becomes more
absurd. Gus Dur, unfazed, agrees to another meeting the following
day, then rises to leave, followed by his staff.

They enter a lift, but behold, the lift doors of the
international hotel won't shut! They disembark, with Levy,
visibly stressed, trying desperately to make light of the
situation.

But he is immediately eclipsed by Gus Dur, who relates his
experience of what seems to be a series of inexplicable
accidents. He says that as a rational being, he wants to believe
these accidents are explainable. Levy, says, "I always think
there's no such thing as an accident." To a native English
speaker, this can mean the justifications we place on our
carelessness and negligence.

The significance of the statement is lost on Gus Dur, who
replies, "Oh, then you no longer are a Westerner."

This early misunderstanding symbolically pulls the curtains
open for Levy, the outsider to this religion, bringing him a step
further into the lives and psyches of Indonesian Moslems,
attempting to understand them better. He is lucky to have two
very prominent personalities, Abdurrachman Wahid and Emha Ainun
Najib, as "guides" in his journey of discovery.

While Gus Dur sheds light on some political issues, Emha
provides answers to questions of a social nature, in his typical
poetic manner. Gus Dur's no-nonsense way of answering Levy's
questions may surprise viewers, under the impression that an
Indonesian religious leader, and a Javanese at that, would be
somewhat enigmatic and inscrutable.

In his reply to Levy's queries, regarding his concern at being
seen as a political threat, Gus Dur says, "No, I am the best
weapon the government has against fundamentalism."

When asked if ordinary people in Indonesia know who owns what
around them, Gus Dur tells an anecdote about a taxi ride he and
his staff had in Sumatra. "The taxi driver didn't know who we
were, yet he babbled on about who owned this estate and that
estate. They know." Levy then queries, "Does that make them angry
or disillusioned?" "No ... ," Gus Dur answers, "... not angry or
disillusioned. But aware."

Compared to Gus Dur, Emha is positively enigmatic, throwing
Levy off balance as the charismatic poet engages in a lightly
polemical exchange with the narrator, concerning what it means to
be a Moslem in Indonesia.

But he also leads Levy's journey to a locality beyond the
awareness of most viewers outside Indonesia, Kedung Ombo -- after
the damming of the water supply. Probably it's the same case for
many onlookers from within Indonesia as well.

When the camera focuses on the cracked earth, the poignant
moments can bring tears to eyes that have#seen events lead to the
present state of affairs. Emha takes the film crew to meet
members of the displaced community, who express openly their
displeasure. Here, another characteristic of the Indonesian
Moslem is highlighted -- their close relationship with the land,
and their mellowness at the sense of betrayal perpetrated by the
authorities.

"When things go wrong, don't blame Islam," says Emha. "Islam
is only information; it is people, meaning you and I, who are
responsible. In God's eyes we are the highest beings."

What became apparent while watching Invitation to a Wedding,
is perhaps that Indonesians, Moslems and others, function more at
an intuitive level, while Levy, the paradigmatic westerner, works
mostly at an intellectual level. His direct, and probing
questioning sometimes creates tension between his production
manager, Fachry Amrullah, and himself.

Levy is intrigued, for instance, at Fachry's explanation
regarding religious concessions allowed to certain people. Levy
appears less than satisfied when Fachry tells him three prayers a
day are acceptable in certain circumstances. "It sounds like
cheating to me," he says.

Yet, like many westerners driven by faith, Levy tries to
include his viewers in following into the realms of Indonesian
Islam, led by Gus Dur, Emha and Fachry. A symbolic merger of
Levy's and Fachry's voices, singing a popular Indonesian song
closes the film.

Not only is this documentary a must for foreigners interested
in aspects of Indonesian life, it is also a useful mirror for
Indonesian to see their lives reflected in someone else's
perceptions. Copies should be made available at Australian
embassy library in Jakarta.