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The burden of collective identity, Javanese traditions, and the cosmic calculations of “Primbon” in modern life.
Jogja Saves the Day
Recently, I’ve avoided mentioning Solo or Surakarta, my hometown. It may appear insignificant, but delivering an honest answer can sometimes be uncomfortable — for both myself and the person I’m speaking with.
Like small talk about the weather, conversations about one’s hometown of birth often surface. My Javanese accent tends to betray my roots, even when I don’t explicitly mention them.
This often happens in the most casual settings: chatting with a traditional taxi driver (where there’s no mute button like on a ride-hailing app) or exchanging pleasantries with meeting participants before the main event begins.
The conversation usually starts innocently enough: “Oh, you’re from Java, right? Which part of Java?”
What seems like a simple question can quickly become tricky, especially since 2023, when the former Indonesian president, Joko Widodo — better known as Jokowi — became a controversial figure. Jokowi is from Solo, and that association has made answering this question a loaded exercise.
If I admit I’m from Solo, the response hinges entirely on whether the other person is…
