“Sex is fun,” says Rahma, 21, a communications student at a leading university in Jakarta. “I don’t make a big deal out of it. It is my body, my life. I don’t care what anybody else thinks.”
Even just 10 years ago, her openness about her sex life would have been daring if not downright shocking in traditionally conservative Indonesia. Nice girls did not have sex, and if they did, they definitely did not admit it.
According to a recent survey by the National Family Planning Board, Rahma’s opinion is shared by about 20 per cent of young women and men between the ages of 21 and 25—a disturbing number to some, simply a natural progression to others.
Following the downfall of the New Order regime, democracy in Indonesia has taken an unexpected, chaotic turn. Suddenly and unexpectedly free to vent once repressed thoughts, ideas and desires, Indonesian society is scrambling to deal with its newfound freedoms.
| "Still, the change to greater permissiveness is phenomenal. " |
The media, artists and entertainment executives are basking in the glow of the permissiveness. A society that was sheltered from outside influences for more than 30 years is now on a quest of discovery, including in sexual matters.
That extends to pushing the sexual boundaries through premarital sex and experimentation.
“What you’re looking at now is something that can’t be helped,” says S Natanagara, a lecturer in psychology and behavioural sciences at Padjadjaran University in Bandung. “It’s been a long time coming. The bigger question is how we deal with the issue, not why we have to deal with it.”
That is easier said than done. Social scientists and religious advocates are decrying what they consider the degradation of morals and the loss of traditional values brought by unchecked freedom.
Suddenly, sex is everywhere. No longer does discussion of sexuality have to be couched in dry, medical jargon that indicates its designated place is in the bedroom of married couples. Sex experts have become talk show regulars, lifestyle magazines have columns devoted to solving sexual problems and an onscreen kiss is now tame stuff on the big screen.
Radio stations are also hip to the new trend. Kamajaya FM, a family oriented broadcaster, includes among its weekly discussion topics penis enlargement, hymen restoration, breast implants and premature ejaculation, with an on-air Q&A segment moderated by an expert.
Literature has also lifted the covers on sexuality. In 1998, following the publication of her debut novel, Saman, Ayu Utami was hailed as a writer who dared to address previously taboo subjects—including sexual abuse and homosexuality—in graphic terms. For some, it was even more shocking that it was a woman spouting the ‘dirty’ talk, but she led the way for a whole generation of young women writers—Djenar Maesa Ayu, Fira Basuki and Dewi Lestari—willing to be up front about sex.
In 2003, Galang Press publishedJakarta Undercover, journalist Moammar Emka’s chronicle of the sexual smorgasbord available in the capital. The book shocked many and led to numerous talk show discussions on the crumbling moral fibre of Indonesian society.
Emka discounts the suggestion that Indonesia is in the midst of a sexual revolution similar to the US in the 1960s. “No, this is definitely not a revolution,” he says, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “What we’re going through right now is a sexual evolution. A revolution requires social awareness, acceptance.”
Still, the change to greater permissiveness is phenomenal.
Andi, 27, a manager at an IT company, didn’t lose his virginity until he was 25. “Back in those days, losing your virginity before you finished college was... I mean, it’s cool, but a little scary. Girls didn’t like guys who slept around, you know?”
Today, the dynamics are very different. “Sex is sex,” Andi says. “Its mystery has been revealed, and it’s beginning to lose some of its magic. Not unlike marriage. My female friends are also sexually active, and none of them are married yet.
“It’s fine. I don’t judge them, they don’t judge me.”
There is also a growing number of local cyber communities offering something for everyone, from gays and lesbians to swingers, as well as the voyeurs who take a peek to satisfy their curiosity.
So is technology to blame for the pervasiveness of porn and the effect on morals?
“We have a tendency to point to an external factor as a source of trouble,” says university lecturer Natanagara. “It’s easy, because in doing that we don’t have to face our own demons. It is just another form of expression. You can try and play anti-sexual cyber police, but I doubt that’s going to stop the flow.”
The flow, at the moment, involves a whole generation of young adults attempting to redefine the concept of sexuality. Lacking sufficient knowledge on the issue, they are like greedy children let loose inside a candy store and ignoring the horrible stomach ache that awaits them at the end of their binge.
But there are holdouts who refuse to jump on the sexual bandwagon.
Martini Surya, a 30-year-old science teacher at an international school, firmly believes in abstinence before marriage. “It’s not a religious thing.
I understand desire, I have desires like everyone else. The difference is I choose to control it, instead of letting it control me.”
College student Rahma acknowledges that her attitudes are shocking to older Indonesians.
“OK, maybe what I’ve been doing is wrong by my parents’ standards,” she says. “But this isn’t 1975 and no one my age dances to keroncong tunes anymore. My point is that time goes on. They had their turn, now it’s mine.”
Despite the much-touted sexual ‘revolution’, some attitudes still die hard, especially when it comes to the issue of virginity for Indonesian women.
One of the more sanctimonious symbols of purity, the majority of Indonesian men still prefer and expect to marry virgin brides. Yet, according to a 2006 study, more than 50 per cent of men and women in their late 20s and early 30s have had premarital sex.
This has led to a profitable business in hymen repair surgery to ensure there are no uncomfortable questions from in-laws on the wedding night.
“Ah, hypocrisy,” laughs journalist Emka. “When you think about it, the numbers don’t add up, do they?” He grins comically. “Well, we’re just full of surprises that way.”
Currently single, Rahma says she isn’t worried about virginity. The man she eventually marries is going to accept her for who she is and what she stands for. Sexual freedom is not a bad thing, she explains, it’s the next step toward social growth.
“Is it a revolution?” Rahma says, shaking her head. “I don’t know. You tell me.” (By MAGGIE TIOJAKIN in Jakarta/ The Jakarta Post/ AsiaNews)