stories and songs in our veins?
For New Year's celebration, in addition to making burnt offerings to the stomach (burnt nuts, burnt corn cobs, and other burnt veg-sticks and whatnot, don't think we can get burnt marshmallows, but it won't stop some of us from trying to source it *looks at friend*), the team decided to have a story-circle. After a long story-assignment procedure too complicated to understand (or maybe it's just me who's too stupid to wrap my mind around it), I got A.A.Navis. I'm supposed to retell one (or two) of his short stories. It feels like Yuletide all over again. *sigh*
However, I am also very looking forward to it, because there are some expats on the team and from other teams we meet out here, and they're going to be telling stories from their countries. I think there's one from Australia (or was it Austria, but from what I've heard, he sounded American); and one from Africa; and from somewhere I dunno. They're working at a different site, so I don't really know them that well yet.
Stories
A. A. Navis was one of Indonesia's famous author and cultural observer. He was born in West Sumatra, two provinces over. He was known for his short stories and social critiques, so much so that his nickname was "he who taunts/mocks". One of his most famous works is "Robohnya Surau Kami" ('Thus falls our prayer-house'), a short story about, I think, the difficulties found in trying to balance religion and work. I suppose I'd be doing that story. I've found a copy of the story online, so I should be memorising that.
One of the organiser of this little story circle told me to prepare it in English, too, just in case. The story, originally published in 1955, has actually been translated into many languages, including English. But I can't find any of the english translations online. And I'm not very good at on-the-fly translation, either. I can barely even write coherently most times. So I think I'm going to spend a few nights trying to translate it. 'Trying' being the operative word. I'm still hoping that Google will yield some results. I'll even be patient with the connection.
There's also another story by him which is basically a subverted retelling of the old folktale of Malin Kundang (a boy who was cursed by his mother due to some unfilial piety). In his story, it was the mother who was cursed, though Malin Kundang didn't fare well in the end either. It was part of his short story collection "Bertanya Kerbau Pada Pedati" ('Asked the buffalo to the cart'); a copy of which I've found on Googlebooks. I think if I were to translate something, I'd try this one instead, because it's a well-known premise already and many people would have known the story of Malin Kundang anyway, so me being incoherent would matter less.
Songs
One of the more famous folk songs to come out of Aceh is "Do Daidi", it's a traditional lullaby, though many would recognise it as background music played in many tsunami news reports back in 2004-2005. It's still sung in the more traditional households, though more and more modern parents choose music boxes or tinkling soft toys for practicality.
Similar to many other Aceh folk songs, this song also has patriotic undertones in it; possibly due to the long warrior-history of the land itself. It was said that when Sultan Iskandar Muda was a babe, his wetnurse would often lull him to sleep with this song. Under his rule, the Sultanate of Aceh flourished. Due to his strength, wealth, and breadth of conquest, he was often compared with Alexander the Great (with whom he shared the name; Iskandar Muda literally meant 'Young Alexander').
I tried to get on youtube to see if there's a clip to share, but the connection didn't even let me get on youtube's mainpage. I'll see if it'll speed up later on tonight.
The lullaby goes (with translation by a friend who've really tried his best *awww, pats*):
Allah hai do do daidi, Boh gadông bi boh kayee uteun, Rayeuk si nyak hana pue ma bri, Ayèeb ngon keuji ureung dônya kheun
(By the grace of Allah, sleep my darling. The gadung fruits I will fetch from the forest. Though once you're grown there's naught your mother can do. Be strong, though others will do you harm)
Allah hai po ilahonha, Gampông jarak hantrok lon wo, Adakna bulèe ulôn tereubang, Mangat rijang troh u nanggroe
(Allah the creator and His will be done. Should we stray far away from home. If I had wings, I will fly us home. To return you to the country of your blood)
Allah hai jak lôn timang preuk, Sayang riyeuk disipreuk pante, Ôh rayeuk sinyak yang puteh meupreuk, Toh sinaleuk gata boh hatèe
(By the grace of Allah, let me rock you in my arms. Alas the waves crash upon the shore. One day when my darling child is grown. Where will you be, beloved of my soul?)
However, I am also very looking forward to it, because there are some expats on the team and from other teams we meet out here, and they're going to be telling stories from their countries. I think there's one from Australia (or was it Austria, but from what I've heard, he sounded American); and one from Africa; and from somewhere I dunno. They're working at a different site, so I don't really know them that well yet.
Stories
A. A. Navis was one of Indonesia's famous author and cultural observer. He was born in West Sumatra, two provinces over. He was known for his short stories and social critiques, so much so that his nickname was "he who taunts/mocks". One of his most famous works is "Robohnya Surau Kami" ('Thus falls our prayer-house'), a short story about, I think, the difficulties found in trying to balance religion and work. I suppose I'd be doing that story. I've found a copy of the story online, so I should be memorising that.
One of the organiser of this little story circle told me to prepare it in English, too, just in case. The story, originally published in 1955, has actually been translated into many languages, including English. But I can't find any of the english translations online. And I'm not very good at on-the-fly translation, either. I can barely even write coherently most times. So I think I'm going to spend a few nights trying to translate it. 'Trying' being the operative word. I'm still hoping that Google will yield some results. I'll even be patient with the connection.
There's also another story by him which is basically a subverted retelling of the old folktale of Malin Kundang (a boy who was cursed by his mother due to some unfilial piety). In his story, it was the mother who was cursed, though Malin Kundang didn't fare well in the end either. It was part of his short story collection "Bertanya Kerbau Pada Pedati" ('Asked the buffalo to the cart'); a copy of which I've found on Googlebooks. I think if I were to translate something, I'd try this one instead, because it's a well-known premise already and many people would have known the story of Malin Kundang anyway, so me being incoherent would matter less.
Songs
One of the more famous folk songs to come out of Aceh is "Do Daidi", it's a traditional lullaby, though many would recognise it as background music played in many tsunami news reports back in 2004-2005. It's still sung in the more traditional households, though more and more modern parents choose music boxes or tinkling soft toys for practicality.
Similar to many other Aceh folk songs, this song also has patriotic undertones in it; possibly due to the long warrior-history of the land itself. It was said that when Sultan Iskandar Muda was a babe, his wetnurse would often lull him to sleep with this song. Under his rule, the Sultanate of Aceh flourished. Due to his strength, wealth, and breadth of conquest, he was often compared with Alexander the Great (with whom he shared the name; Iskandar Muda literally meant 'Young Alexander').
I tried to get on youtube to see if there's a clip to share, but the connection didn't even let me get on youtube's mainpage. I'll see if it'll speed up later on tonight.
The lullaby goes (with translation by a friend who've really tried his best *awww, pats*):
Allah hai do do daidi, Boh gadông bi boh kayee uteun, Rayeuk si nyak hana pue ma bri, Ayèeb ngon keuji ureung dônya kheun
(By the grace of Allah, sleep my darling. The gadung fruits I will fetch from the forest. Though once you're grown there's naught your mother can do. Be strong, though others will do you harm)
Allah hai po ilahonha, Gampông jarak hantrok lon wo, Adakna bulèe ulôn tereubang, Mangat rijang troh u nanggroe
(Allah the creator and His will be done. Should we stray far away from home. If I had wings, I will fly us home. To return you to the country of your blood)
Allah hai jak lôn timang preuk, Sayang riyeuk disipreuk pante, Ôh rayeuk sinyak yang puteh meupreuk, Toh sinaleuk gata boh hatèe
(By the grace of Allah, let me rock you in my arms. Alas the waves crash upon the shore. One day when my darling child is grown. Where will you be, beloved of my soul?)