Lasem unfolded its secrets slowly, each revelation more intriguing than the last. Mbak Eka's atelier, nestled in a 200-year-old Chinese-Indies style house, whispered tales of a bygone era. Her gentle demeanor, accentuated by features betraying her Chinese heritage, belied a steely resolve – a perfectionist unwilling to tolerate shoddy craftsmanship. Her story echoed through the walls, a lineage of batik artistry stretching back six generations.
Lumintu Batik House, once known for its exquisite "Kendoro Kendiri" motifs, had fallen silent in 1977. Yet, in 2016, Mbak Eka, a phoenix rising from the ashes, rekindled the flames. The ancient house, now converted into a showroom and production space, served as a beacon of Lasem's cultural revival.
The Singapore entourage descended upon the atelier in a flurry of buying and bartering. One piece, a breathtaking goose design displayed in a recent exhibition, caught their eye. Priced at 17.5 million rupiah (a little over $1,000 USD), it was more a work of art destined for display than an article of clothing. "Chope" snapped it up without hesitation.
Mbak Eka, with a flourish, unveiled her personal collection of "Tokwi" – batik workbenches adorned with auspicious symbols. She regaled us with tales of their origins, the intricate details holding stories within their folds.
I also took the opportunity to interview Mbak Eka’s helper Tasya for my YouTube channel, where she explained her role in helping to promote Lasem and also about Mbak Eka’s brief story.
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As the shopping frenzy subsided, a feast awaited. Miendapoer, a mother-daughter duo, served an array of traditional Lasem dishes. The star of the show, however, was "Latoh," a sea grape dish unique to Lasem, a culinary whisper unavailable elsewhere in Indonesia.
Exhaustion crept in after the day's whirlwind. Some, lured by the promise of "Wayang Kulit" – a shadow puppet performance, followed local guide Agit. A video awaited, showcasing a remarkable sight – a 12-year-old puppet master wielding traditional tales of local heroes battling the Dutch, accompanied by a full gamelan orchestra.
Yit Peng, Clara, and I, seeking a quieter end to the day, ascended to Hotel Pollos' rooftop bar. Live music, the poster promised. We settled in with our beers, anticipation brewing. The first strains of music, however, dampened our spirits. Off-key vocals, grating on the senses, turned the night sour. Two songs in, we conceded defeat, the band's discordance a jarring finale to an otherwise captivating day. And so, with a sigh, I retreated to the sanctuary of sleep, Lasem's stories swirling in my dreams.
(Doodled while listening to the songs)
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