Polka hatmaker keeps Dutch tradition alive

Polka hatmaker keeps Dutch tradition alive

By M. Achadi

YOGYAKARTA (JP): The Dutch colonial legacy usually survives in
the form of old buildings, sugarcane factories, trains, bridges
and fortresses. But in Yogyakarta, the Dutch left behind the art
of hat-making.

The "polka" hat used to be a style only worn by the colonial
masters. Over time, it became the official hat for sugarcane and
railway company officials working for the Dutch.

Muntaha, 71, is the only living polka-maker in the old city.
He is a former independence fighter in 1949 grouped under
Hizbullah, a guerrilla unit, in Surabaya and Yogyakarta.

He said he learned the craftsmanship from a Dutch friend who
adopted a Javanese name, Tjipto.

"I have forgotten his Dutch name. I remember people called him
Tjipto," said Muntaha, who was born in the Central Java town of
Blora.

Together with two friends, Muntaha took a five-month course in
polka hat-making in the early 1950s. Ever since he began making
polka hats he has marketed them under the brand name Helmet Tjap
Singa.

In the past, most of his customers were employees of sugarcane
plantations, sugarcane factories, the railway company and
government officials like subdistrict chiefs, regents and
governors.

Now that the hat is no longer the monopoly of the employees,
he has renamed the trademark Topi Cap Garuda.

"I don't know whether the two friends of mine are still making
polka hats. I don't even know their whereabouts," Muntaha said.

Since 1951, Muntaha has lived on Jl. Ibu Ruswo 66, about 500
meters east of the Yogyakarta Palace. He turned his house into a
hat shop he calls Toko Necis, selling hats of various models and
brand names.

A small hand-made polka hat designed for Indonesians and
Asians in general costs Rp 75,000, while the bigger version
designed for Europeans and Americans costs Rp 125,000.

The materials needed for making a polka include paper, thick
sponges, cotton and woolen fabrics and leather. The hat is shaped
like a safety helmet with the top part being made of a mixture of
paper, serlak (a varnish-like preparation) and wood glue.

After the top part is pleated into the shape of a terraced
helmet, then the surface is smoothed with a piece of sandpaper.

The next process is covering the surface with cotton material.
The cloth is either pleated or folded in such a way as to form
small folds. The inner part of the hat is covered with sponges
and woolen cloth. To make it more stylish, a leather strap is
added as an accessory.

"In the past I used synthetic straps for the accessory, but I
I was criticized by my customers. They said it was not good and
deprived it of its old fashion look."

Due to his old age and poor health, the father of five now
needs more time to make the polkas.

"I need five days to make a single polka now. I used to need
only two days," said Muntaha, adding that he made the hats and
sold them all on his own. His wife and all five children are
dead.

"A grandchild often helps me here. Unfortunately, he doesn't
seem to have any interest in this profession. He is just like any
other relatives of mine. No one wants to inherit my skill to make
a living," Muntaha said.

Desperate to have assistants, Muntaha once trained several
people in the art of polka hat-making only to find that none of
them were talented.

"The training was useless. I have realized I have to do
everything myself, but should not work beyond my capacity," said
Muntaha.

As a result, he often refused large orders for polkas. "I
refused to take an order recently for 2,000 polkas. I do not have
the energy to make so many hats," he said.

For the same reasons, he has closed his door to businesspeople
who try and persuade him to make polkas for export. A Dutch man
once came and asked him to live in the Netherlands to concentrate
on making polkas there.

"He said there was no more polka makers in his country and
only a few people had the hats. I refused it. I'm too old and
sickly," Muntaha said.

Muntaha's customers are mostly tourists and include fans from
the Netherlands, Australia, Pakistan and India. Locals buy polkas
only for special purposes, such as the recent election campaign.