The Opera Populaire

I have been reading about the obituary of Sudono Salim, or Liem Sioe Liong, the once richest Indon-Chinese conglomerate in Indonesia. Liem drew his last breath last Sunday, 10 June 2012. Indonesian news outlet reported that he had been suffering from degenerative illness, one of which left him blind three years ago. If you ask me why should the death of someone I do not even know make me sad, then it is this. The truth is, Liem reminded me of my childhood in Jakarta. The time when my grandparents (Liem incidentally reminded me of my late grandfather somewhat) and relatives were still alive or living there. And we would gather in our old-fashioned house or some now-retro restaurants for meals. When bouffant, curly hair, dark purple eyeshadow and Ferragamo-style low pumps were de rigeur. And when women were not worried about being raped when they want to take the angkot (public mini vans) or the trishaws. Southeast Asian scholars have this tendency to dislike Chinese immigrants and see their contribution as insignificant amongst the documentation of the “purer” or more indigenous ethnic groups. They perhaps also feel the burden of the indigenous groups’ competition in the economic sector and consequently, socio-political standing. This is in a way understandable, and is arguably an ongoing issue in a different form currently. I do not wish to use history to admonish people towards a certain acceptance of contemporary immigrants. This is truly a tricky route to travail. I just want to soak in my love for the antiquarian by reminiscing about bygone days. Simpler or better nor not. It seems that with the departure of Liem, one of the many symbols of cronyism and corruption of the New Order, a certain piece of my own history is gone as well.