Editor’s Note:
This article reflects the personal opinions of the author, Aida Greenbury, and does not necessarily represent the views of expat.or.id. However, many of the cultural observations she raises about humor in Indonesia continue to resonate today, particularly regarding language, context, and cultural nuance.
Indonesian jokes are not funny. No, let me rephrase that. Indonesian jokes, told in the Indonesian language, are not funny. And yes, I do speak and understand the Indonesian language perfectly, but I still don’t think Indonesian jokes are amusing. The only ‘Indonesian’ jokes that are a tad cynically funny are the ones recited by long-term expatriates periodically burnt by their local experience, like this one:
A Singaporean and an Indonesian man took a creativity test and were sent into separate rooms. Inside each room there were two tools. The men were asked to make something useful with whatever they could find in the room, using the tools.
One hour passed. The Singaporean man stepped out of the room and showed the jury a state-of-the-art, albeit blatant, copy of an American gadget he had created. Two hours passed. The Indonesian man walked out of the room and told the jury that he lost one tool and broke the other.
Yesterday I searched the net for an Indonesian joke. I couldn’t find a single one that could make me laugh my head off or even giggle non-stop with tears in my eyes. Well, I actually had tears in my eyes, but the reaction was more due to the pathetic phrases I read on the screen.
Why is it so tough to find decent local jokes in this country? I am not talking about the sexist jokes the men in Indonesian offices tell their staff, which are usually followed by a chorus of fabricated laughter (because if you don’t laugh, you will be excluded from the vertically challenged group of the powers that be). I am talking about fresh humour, generated by people of various classes, reflecting their experience of daily life—clever words relieving them temporarily from the harsh realities of poverty.
Is humour not a part of Indonesian culture? Has it ever been?
Indonesian humour (read: jokes told in the Indonesian language) is divided into four categories. They are: 1) slapstick, 2) heavy in racism, 3) commonly using wordplay, and 4) the intellectually challenged.
Slapstick jokes are frequently broadcast on local TV, in Bajaj Bajuri comedy series, for example, where people falling off chairs or a vomiting baby are considered hilariously funny.
Racist jokes are the second favourite type of humour in Indonesia. These ‘jokes’ are usually about a non-Chinese Indonesian dressed in a Chinese costume speaking Indonesian with an exaggerated Chinese accent, or a non-Batak man shouting brusque sentences with a heavy Batak twang. These are often seen on TV and heard on radio, under the banner of integration propaganda instead of racism.
As for the intellectually challenged Indonesian jokes—the less said, the better.
Watching a comedy club show a few months back, it struck me that stand-up comedy in Indonesia was not only monopolised by Western comedians. Not only by the Irish who tend to incorporate the F-word in every joke, or by the Australian blokes who keep inventing new words like ‘Smee’.
In fact, in the 1980s, Indonesia had a stand-up comedy mogul who originated from Srimulat, a traditional comedy group. His name was ‘Gepeng’, which ironically means ‘flat’ or ‘squashed’ in English—God bless his soul. He was a hilarious stand-up comedian, a comic genius with a knack for hitting funny bones.
Srimulat emerged in Solo in 1950. The group travelled and performed from one town to another in Java, achieving national acclaim in Surabaya by 1961. Gepeng was the leading clown of the group. In every performance, he stepped onto the stage first. He always played the role of a servant in an aristocratic household.
Wearing exaggerated makeup, Gepeng dressed in a servant’s uniform with a dirty towel slung over his shoulder. He sat down, looked at the audience with his well-known smirk, and began his comedic spiel in Javanese, mixed with a bit of Indonesian. He could hardly speak Indonesian properly. He was refreshing because, unlike most stand-up comedians, his humour was not based solely on ridicule or belittling others.
Today, a number of Srimulat-trained comedians, such as Basuki, Kadir, Asmuni, and Tarzan, are still active and continue to attract loyal fans.
I believe that humour has been—and still is—a strong part of Indonesian culture, but it mostly evolves traditionally beneath the surface of the national push to use Bahasa Indonesia.
The fact is, people have to understand English to appreciate Seinfeld’s jokes. People have to understand Javanese to appreciate Javanese jokes. Just like Balinese humour or Malay ‘pantun’ in Sumatra, most of them are untranslatable. Humour is embedded in language; once you change the words into another language, you often lose the essence of the joke.
What is funny in one culture may not be funny in another.
Evidence that humour has long existed in Indonesia can be found in the Javanese Punakawan. These are unique characters in the Mahabharata epic, as adapted in Javanese and Balinese traditions.
In Java, the Punakawan include the hilariously funny brothers: Gareng, the limping man who often says the wrong thing; Petruk, who mocks wrongdoing with humour; and Bagong, the dim-witted shadow of his father. Their father, Semar, is the wise caretaker of the Pandawa, possessing supernatural abilities greater than the gods. He appears at the end of scenes to restore balance and clarify the humorous chaos created by his sons.
Around the 13th century, during the Majapahit era, these characters were further developed and popularised. The common people found comfort in these humorous performances and continued to evolve them across generations.
Today, many Indonesian men like to think of themselves as Semar, though their behaviour often resembles Petruk, Gareng, or Bagong.
Stand-up comedy in Indonesia is not only monopolised by Western comedians.
In a nutshell, comedy in Indonesia has been a strong part of the culture and has developed over centuries. It may not always be obvious, as it is often hidden beneath the influence of the national language.
Do you want to hear a funny Indonesian joke?
Learn the local dialects.
First published in Jakarta Kini
By Aida Greenbury
