Culture and Privilege in Capitalist Asia - Jurusan Antropologi ...

HANS ANTLÖV 197
Chinese-run fashion shops in Majalaya, with their own (very particular) rural
version of haute couture. While it might impress her friends, high heels are not
very practical on the dirt roads in Sariendah. But Euis does not care. Her long
nails are painted red, a sign that she never does any manual work. Together with
her like-minded cousin, she goes to a private high school in Majalaya. They travel
by public transport every day and her father gives Euis a 2,000-rupiah allowance
for her expenses, which in 1991 was more than the daily income of an agricultural
labourer. Although Euis and her cousin are still teenagers, they are often away in
Majalaya in the evening. Euis always stopped me when I passed by her house,
asking about life in Sweden. She says she has a boyfriend in Majalaya who, one
day, will take her to Europe. But before that, she claims, she will go to university in
Bandung.
Another example is the family of Cep Agus. Just like Sunarya, Cep Agus works
as a clerk in the provincial office in Bandung. He commutes the 35 kilometres,
Monday to Saturday, in the relative comfort of a minibus. His official monthly
income in 1991 was 150.000 rupiah (US$75), which just covers his costs of
transport and expenses in Bandung. But his real income must be much higher,
given his expensive standard of living. He has a Swiss-style villa, white-washed
with two nice Greek pillars at its entrance, and a fence around the house. Cep Agus
is 34 years, and his wife Jamaliah is two years older. She is of local descent, and
works as a secondary-school teacher in the village. The additional household
incomes are gained by performing a brokering role between villagers and the
provincial government. Cep Agus and Jamaliah practise the koneksi game, and
help people to get their letters and contacts. Jamaliah knows the local setting, Cep
Agus knows people in Bandung. If a family wants to send a daughter to high school
or university, if someone wants to look for a job in Bandung, or have any other outof-village
business, they can ask the Aguses to provide them with the necessary
contacts and endorsements. And it is not for free. People who visit the family are
those with aspirations, for themselves or their children, to leave the village, and
who can afford it. Almost all visitors are of high status. Colleagues and peers from
Sariendah and Majalaya would come to seek the advice of the Aguses. I never saw
an ordinary resident from Sariendah in their home, not even their neighbours. The
Aguses receive quite substantial sums for the assistance provided, money that
goes towards maintaining a standard of living much higher than their neighbours’.
In 1986, they already had a colour television and video player, one of the very first
families in Sariendah to do so. Cep Agus is known to have borrowed a car from
his Bandung office and taken his family for a holiday to Pangandaran, a favourite
resort on the South Java Sea. Once or twice, I have also joined them at one of the
many Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets in Bandung. They have a maid to take care
of their two children during working hours.
Among their neighbours, Cep Agus and his family are not popular. The maid,
the fence, the holidays are not exactly what one expects of a typical Sundanese
villager. People’s main criticism is that the Aguses isolate themselves. They do not
participate in community life. Jamaliah said that she did not want to fraternise with