How basi are you? Measuring signs for basi-ness in expats in Indonesia.
Friend,
We ever much talk about Bule (White Person) here. And just like Belanda (Holland) divide Indonesia into European, Asiatic and Pribumi, we must have way of classifying the Bule for when we rule his country. We must also be able to rate his level of ‘Basiness’, or staleness.
I propose to you, IM friends, that to be scientific we must develop a ‘Basiometer’. Similar to a hubometer, tachometer, speedometer, thermometer, the Basiometer will allow us to gauge the level of expiration in a given Bule.
What is Basi ? We Asians are infinitely more subtle than our Occidental counterparts, a quality reflected in the hidden and symbolic messages in epics such as the Mahabharata. Thus does Basi elude precise definition as did Diponegoro slip away from the forces of Belanda. Thesaurus.com defines rancid as “rotten, strong-smelling”, and…
bad, carious, contaminated, curdled, decomposing, disagreeable, disgusting, evil-smelling, feculent, fetid, foul, frowzy, fusty, gamy, high, impure, loathsome, malodorous, moldy, musty, nasty, nidorous, noisome,noxious, off, offensive, olid, polluted, putrefactive, putrefied, putrescent, putrid, rank, reeky, repulsive, sharp, smelly, sour, soured,stale, stinking, strong, tainted, turned,unhealthy, whiffy
Friend, some of that is ever too harsh. The Bule can be everyone from naive and well-meaning English teacher to the most wretched Blok M derelict.
I ever think stale is a better translation:
antiquated, banal, bent, cliché, cliché-ridden, clichéd, common, commonplace, corny, dead, drab, dull, dusty, effete, flat, fusty, hackneyed, insipid, like a dinosaur, mawkish, moth-eaten, out, passé, past, platitudinous, repetitious, shopworn, stereotyped, threadbare, timeworn,tired, trite, unoriginal, well-worn, worn-out, yesterday’s, zestless
What about semi-Bules such as the psychic Mama Lauren? How can she be Basi when she ever help so much? (Better to just let her be Finance Minister and set interest rates, no need for fancy Bule degree).
In short, Basiness is that kind of icky feeling you get when you meet a Bule and you know and they know they’ve been in Indonesia too long. Ashlee Betteridge, a leading Australian journalist and commentator on Indonesia recently noted,
I have no regard for what the boozed-up washed-up Blok M bule barflies of Jakarta think of me and I haven’t given a damn since… oh… right around the minute I stepped off the plane.
Now the Basiometer takes out all the guesswork.
At first, I think Basiometer should be from 1-10, but I think it needs full percentage. We’ll skip 0-50% on the Basiometer, which means ‘still fresh’, and go straight to the fermentation.
1. Proto-Basi Warning Signs: (Men and Women) (50%-80% depending on severity)
Friend, you’re in danger. You’ve hit your comfort zone. The post-apocalyptic skies of Jakarta no longer make you crave a Xanax. You’re blase and bored with the Singapore visa run. You start to think the job prospects or lifestyle is worth the macet.
The confusing headlines and daily challenges are coalescing into a world view. Bule starts to get deathly dull now. If Sri Mulyani Indrawati fell afoul of the status quo after a successful five-year run, what chance would a washed-up stock broker or 30-something arts graduate from Scunthorpe have? (We’ll cut uni students some slack). Most Indonesians without their noses in the trough have been dealing with these problems their whole lives and don’t have a passport escape route.
Speaks for itself.
2. Full Basi: 80-100 %
Basiness reaches a zenith in those two wooden plaques in one of the Blok M bars, “they’ve done their time”, either 10 or 20 years. It’s hard to stay fresh if you’ve been in Indonesia since the 1990s or before. Such Bules usually have a predictable life cycle, starting from their 20s or 30s, when they first arrived to the onset of middle age, starting with enthusiasm and ending in bitterness and resignation.
David Jardine is a freelance writer who by his own admission landed here in 1987, and has been writing for the Jakarta Post, and defunct publications such as the Indonesian Observer ever since. Jardine is also a denizen of Jalan Jaksa and has been spotted carrying plastic bags full of beer from the nearest Circle K (24-hour mart) nearby. How Basi is Jardine? You decide.
We can’t blame the Bule for succumbing, now and then, to the temptations of Indonesia’s sultry tropical nights. But when every second Ayam-made-good at the malls knows you by name, the Basiometer hits at least a 10: full Basi.
It’s one thing when JakTV news accidentally catches the Bule, say, at the airport. Appearing on shows like ‘Bule Gila’, or even worse – having your own show like that annoying ‘Wahyu’ guy, (formerly Dale Andrew Collins-Smith), launches you into hard core Basi territory. Wahyu, reports the SMH, had an ‘unsatisfying’ career as a flight attendant, moved to Indonesia 15 years ago, and starred as a cross dresser in the soap opera ‘Toyib Minta Kawin’ before becoming ‘close’ to a Satpam at his house.
Wahyu Suparno Putro in “Rahasia Sunnah”
Bust out too much gaul (hip) slang? Bahasa Indonesia too good? Know too many short cuts on an ojek? Sorry, pal: time for the compost heap. (That goes for long-term regulars on Indonesia Matters too). In China or France, you’d be applauded, even expected, to master the local language. Here, we tend to assume you learned it from bar girls. If you know the best way to get from your nearest CBD home through numerous back streets and kampungs, maaf. You’ve met too many taxi drivers for your own good.
Here are some other signs of Basiness, but feel free to add your own ideas:
Other sign of basiness:
Speaking in fond terms of the good old Orde Baru times.
Singing Chrisye songs.
I now, for the first time ever, have a very faint inkling, a whiff, a hint of a theory about who Dikkiman is (and I don’t mean Achmad Sudarsono). I’m far, far to fond of the character to risk damaging it by mouthing off, so I won’t.
This piece is, without doubt, a return to form, though I would have preferred it from the original and best rather than the acolyte…
Mas, could you add a footnote about liberal self-hating basiness?
This would be defined as the point when a certain level of basiness begins to creep in, but being earnest and well-meaning the bule in question is tormented by the dark thoughts that enter his mind. Perhaps he finds his liberal world view prodded by the awful suspicion that some negative stereotypes might have some basis in fact, or while going over unreconstructed 19th Century colonialist screeds finds him self chuckling and muttering “so true!” before realising what just happened and being obliged to batter himself over the head with the collected works of E. W Said for penance…
Not that I’m anywhere near that point, obviously; fresh as a daisy me…
It depends on who say it or posting it.
Indonesians dream about rice = funny (if Indonesians who say that) = racist (if bules that mention it).
Bules = funny & amusing (if western people who say it) = racist (if “I” say it)
Wetback = funny (if Carlos Mencia who say it) = racist (if white or black people say it)
Don’t be such a Jews! = (funny and sometimes I take it as a compliment) = racist for some of my jews friends (I’m not a jews, I’m an american!!)
I don’t see pak Dikki’s posting is funny. Or I call it much less funny than celebrity deathmatch or his humor on Bakrie and Mulyani.
Morning all,
I am one of the 20 years plus people – origin: Australia, home address: somewhere in Central Java (no, not Yogya/Solo).
Why does one have to define oneself at all in the terms being paraded in this blog? I am relatively fluent in Indonesian although my Javanese is poor, yet I do almost all my reading in English. We speak Indonesian / Javanese / a little English in the home. I live in a kampung yet have little to do with the neighbors. I walk with my dogs every morning yet do not stop to chat or ‘ngopi’. I despise Indonesian soap operas but don’t mind dangdut although I would like to see some more variety in the genre. Other music forms here suck but then western pop does too. The food is fine – beats Big Macs hands down for mine. As with most of us living here (as in people) I have as little to do with bureaucracy / police / officialdom in general as possible. The Jakarta Post may not be the world’s greatest paper but then it defecates over Sydney’s Daily Telegraph. My religion is my own business and what I tell others has nothing to do with me at all. I don’t mind some of the stuff on this blog although the quality varies and there is a hint of Islamaphobia. All institutional religions should be taken with a major dollop of salt for mine. Note the difference between spirituality and institutional religion.
Life is not about being special or being different. It is not even really being about Indonesian or foreigner or Islamic or Buddhist or whatever. It is about being what you want to be – dissenters from the world of tolerance please take a seat at the back of the theater. Actually, please find another planet and leave most of us alone
yth dikkiman,
Elo kaleee yang basiiiii
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We need another candidate now, R.I.P Mama Lauren, died last night.