Sundanese games in several big cities are dying

Sundanese games in several big cities are dying

By Kafil Yamin

BANDUNG (JP): Yuceu Dewi Sakinah, 10, is among the lucky
little girls who can enjoy both old and new games. During her
fasting, she plays sondah, a traditional Sundanese game similar
to hopscotch, with her friends in front of her house here. Some
other girls watch her game with curiosity. "What is she
playing?," asks a small watcher.

She also plays congkak, beklen, babacakan and other
"strange" games that most of her friends in the neighborhood do
not recognize. They are more familiar with skating or video
games, which have nothing to do with their traditions.

However, this is not unusual and is part of an alarming trend
that threatens an important facet of traditional Sundanese life
for city dwellers. Research conducted recently by the Taman
Budaya Sunda (Sundanese Art Park) revealed that at least 55 of 60
traditional Sundanese games are already "dead", in the sense that
they are no longer recognized by Sundanese children. The few
remaining games are struggling for survival.

This startling figure, however, only applies to cities. In
villages some 80 percent of the traditional games are still being
played by Sundanese children.

Why are traditional games ignored and discarded in cities?

According to Sundanese artist Nano Suratno, who heads the
Sundanese Art Park, rapid industrialization pushes aside
traditional values, norms and products.

"Every day, new products and new information, including new
games, are introduced and pass before our eyes on TV, in books
and magazines, etc. You have no time to defend and hold onto the
past. Every day we are compelled to try something new, so we have
no time to develop or even to defend our past," he says.

Limited space in cities is another factor leading to the death
of traditional games. "Many of the traditional games need large
spaces. You cannot play gatrik (softball using a bamboo stick) in
a small alley," says Lilis Maryati, a researcher of Sundanese
traditions.

Several games even need unlimited space. "If you play
babancakan (a game of cat and mouse), you use the whole
neighborhood," she adds.

Suratno is befuddled by the scarcity of space. In Japan, he
says, neighborhoods are as crowded as in Indonesian cities, the
houses are small and the price of land is very high. Yet each
neighborhood has open spaces for the children to play.

"Here, our children have no room to play," he adds.

The death of traditional games is also being brought about by
parents' disregard and ignorance of these games. Parents may have
been born in villages where they played traditional games, but
since they moved to cities their social circles have changed as
has the amount of pressure they must face in daily life. These
changes often mean that the parents will eventually forget the
old games of their childhood.

"On the weekend, parents take their children to playgrounds in
malls and supermarkets rather than teaching their children the
traditional games," Maryati says, adding that second generation
city migrants may be totally ignorant of traditional games.

So how does Yuceu still remember and play traditional games?
During school vacations and weekends, her parents take her to
Tasikmalaya, the village of her grandparents. During her stays in
the village, she meets and plays with other children in the
village. It is during these times that she learns the old games.

"I can play video games, computer games and skate, but playing
traditional games is much more exciting," Yuceu says.

Some residents of Taman Bukit Lagadar, Yuceu's neighborhood,
are also migrants from regencies in West Java. They regularly
take their children on visits to their hometowns.

During this month of Ramadhan, children in villages pass the
time playing. They return home late in the afternoon, just before
it is time to break the fast.

One of the games the children play is war, using bamboo
pistols they make themselves. The number of participants in this
game is unlimited and so is the space. A participant can roam as
far as possible.

"I think the positive side of the older generation is that
they are less dependent (than the younger generation). When they
were children, if they wanted to have a toy car they made it
themselves. Children today ask their parents for money to buy
it," Suratno says.

Lilis Maryati and Nano Suratno believe that Sundanese
traditional games will survive only if concerned people do
something to preserve the games. Local authorities will have to
play a key role if this is to happen. A teacher here once asked,
"If the government can provide huge playgrounds in malls for
modern games, why can't they do the same for traditional games?"

Maryati says that the promotion of traditional games should be
a joint action. The local government, educators, teachers and
parents should work together in this effort.

The Sundanese Art Council recently held an exhibition
featuring Sundanese traditional games, and they invited children
to the exhibition to learn how to play these games.

"In fact, those 'modern' children really like the games," says
Maryati.

The council is also printing and distributing books on the
games. The books are expected to become one of many reference
tools in primary and secondary schools. "In this way, children
will recognize their own pasts and traditions," she says.

Meanwhile, Suratno underlines the need for open spaces for
children to play.

In this big country, there should be space for all children to
run free.