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Trove: Find and get Australian resources. Books, images, historic newspapers, maps, archives and more. Available in the National Library of Australia collection. Author: Sukarno, Guntur, ; Format: Book; p.: ill. ; 19 cm. Get this from a library! Bung Karno: bapakku, kawanku, guruku. [Guntur Sukarno; Soekarno].

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Shalimar 1 Denis Byrne Field kit used for tracking Shalimar in Bali photograph by the author Among the few personal possessions of the former President Sukarno recovered by his son after he died in Jakarta on 21 June was a bottle of his cologne, Shalimar de Guerlain. Aroundpeople were killed on Bali alone. Perhaps the word is more appropriate for what happened in the years and decades that followed when the massacre was erased from Indonesian history books and when the sites of the killings and mass graves seemed to fade from the landscape in a climate of public fear in which no one dared draw attention to them, let alone memorialise them.

The air was heavy with the smell of warm wet roads and plant growth. Walls and the bed linen smelt of dampness, the pages of books buckled and sagged.

I imagined it standing half empty and dusty on a dresser in the large dimly lit bedroom of a quiet colonial-era villa in Jakarta. The Australian artist Donald Friend, living at Sanur, made the following diary entry for 30 January What could it mean?

At a time when it would have been dangerous to exhibit a picture of Sukarno in Bali, a place where he had been enormously popular, the authorities could hardly prevent people witnessing an apparition of his baapakku on the moon.

I had a more prosaic encounter with him myself when, riding the scooter down to the beach, I came around a corner and suddenly confronted his face painted larger than life on the wooden tailgate of a truck iarno Madura parked beside the road. The scooter wobbled and continued on. One night in Bali I was visiting my friend Peggy in a bungalow located down the end of a long narrow laneway.

The room filled with the sound of violins, double bass, and that kawqnku voice singing of the backstreets of Belfast: I had to smell it and that meant gaining access to the thing furuku an object.

Bung Karno, bapakku, kawanku, guruku – Guntur Sukarno – Google Books

They had the other Guerlain Orientals, Samsara and Mitsouko, but no Shalimar, which left me wondering whether it was subject to the same censorship as the remembrance of Sukarno and the purges. On a visit to Sydney I found it on a perfume counter at David Jones department store, standing among a cluster of tester bottles. As I reached for it a smallish woman in her fifties, carefully made up, approached me on the other side of the counter. She asked in kawankk fairly heavy French accent whether she could help.

I said I was interested in the Shalimar. I guriku her if she knew when the perfume first came out. The dominant element was vanilla, I gathered that much. Yet even as I was being overwhelmed by it I was aware that I was smelling not just vanilla, perhaps not even mainly vanilla. The moment I tried to put my finger on its particularity it withdrew into an orchestration of smells which to my untrained nose were inseparable one from another.

People talk about their karmo smell of the Orient. I remember the moment in the early karrno when the door of the plane was unsealed at Bangkok airport and a wave of warm air came rolling down the aisle bearing the bing of flowers, aviation fuel, fish sauce, frying chillies, incense, and stagnant canals. As I stood in the perfume department holding the card to my nose the voices around me fell away and the bronze mirrors and faux-marble pillars slipped out of focus.

#bukuguntursoekarno

I had no conscious memory of having smelt this perfume previously but—and this was its genius, perhaps the genius of all great perfumes—it connected with something buhg me that seemed already to know it. She mentioned bergamot, patchouli, sandalwood, and she sprayed some onto a card for herself, as if to refresh her memory. As she was wrapping a bottle up for me she commented kawanky my interest in Shalimar. From the s I think. In favouring Shalimar, could it be that Sukarno, as a leader of the Non-Aligned Movement, was engaged in an act of reappropriation; a previously overlooked manifestation of his postcoloniality?

The inhabitants of this zone wallowed in laziness; there was no room for the colonial reality of the rubber and tea gurkuu with their machine-like exploitation of native bodies. At this moment the West was beginning to disengage from its colonial domination of the East, substituting direct enslavement for enslavement by capital. Guerlain, as it were, announced that it was no longer necessary to be physically present in bapakmu East in order to experience the sensual allure of its women.

Shalimar would transpose that allure bzpakku the bodies of the women of the West. To this extent, the East, in its physicality, would be rendered redundant. Standing in the garden one night in Bali, the darkness loud with the croaking of frogs from the paddy fields across the hedge, I cupped my hands over my face and inhaled a breath of Shalimar.

It smelt older here than it kanro in Sydney. The aroma of house arrest? I had been begun thinking of the perfume as an archaeological trace. It was entirely reasonable to suppose Sukarno had brought Shalimar with him to Bali on his frequent visits to the island. I imagined him spraying it on himself just as I had sprayed it over my palm a few moments earlier. The finger presses down on the knob and the perfume atomises into its surrounds, becoming invisible but still minutely present, still detectable.

It can be argued that a perfume is at its most powerful and suggestive when present most faintly. The association of Shalimar with Sukarno was tenuous, I knew that. But in the Indonesia of kaarno early s, with Soeharto still entrenched in power and reliant on a tightly controlled media, there kawaku always more rumours than verifiable facts.

Dutch East Indies Company (V.O.C) Timeline

I decided to visit Tampak Siring. The major roads in that region ran along the tops of long ridges radiating down towards the sea from the Batur crater. Rather than taking one of those roads up from the town of Denpasar I cut across their grain from the southeast, partly for the pleasure of rising and falling along the narrow roads between kawanky ridgelines.

They plunge into deep shady gullies dense with trees ksrno cool air washes across my face and bare arms in the moments before my scooter climbed up again into the world of sunlight.

#bukuguntursoekarno – Hash Tags – Deskgram

Leffler, Library of Congress I slow bujg. The president is in the back of a big American car wearing his trademark sunglasses, looking at the scenery but turning over in his mind the uncertain loyalty of the army, spiralling inflation, the failing balance between the forces of Islam, communism, and liberal nationalism.

There are afterimages of the Balinese girls who danced for him on the tarmac of the airfield, and wafting through the car, coming and going like a half-formed recollection, is the aroma of Shalimar de Guerlain, long out of its bottle. In the discourse of perfumery one speaks of the afterlife of a scent, hung the perceptible changes it undergoes from the time it is applied to the skin and its capacity to gruku a distinct signature long after the fading of its initial intensity.

I stopped the scooter in front of a ceremonial wrought-iron gateway that guarded the guesthouse grounds and peered in across the lawns and gardens. I found another entrance, further up the street, which apparently provided everyday access for the gardeners and maintenance staff, but I was stopped there by a guard and told I could only look from the outside.

It was perfectly understandable they would not want foreign tourists poking around a presidential residence. I could appreciate that.

Logically there should have been another ridge to the east of this one and unless it was covered in trees it should be possible to look across from there to the villa.

Eventually I found a path which led between two buildings to the terraced rice fields behind. Beyond the fields the land fell quickly away into the deep tree-filled gully separating this ridge from the Sukarno ridge. The single-storeyed, L-shaped structure was a study in s Third World modernism. Its long axis was built partly into the slope and the projecting wing hung in the air, supported on slender concrete stilts.

There were large windows and an uncomplicated wrought-iron balcony. The walls were a pale powder pink, nicely offset by the grey tiles on the high gabled roof. I sat down in the grass on the edge of the terrace, conscious that I had entered the space of the Sukarno underground.

Curtains were drawn behind the windows over there which made it easier to imagine him in residence. The place seemed impeccably maintained, as if time had stood still since What would happen if I were discovered here with a bottle of Shalimar in my pocket?

It was a miniature bottle, convenient for fieldwork and ideal for this kind of subversion. Bung Karno, Bapakku, Kawanku, Guruku. Sukarno was under house arrest at first in Bogor and later in the house of one of his wives in Jakarta.

The Dark Side of Paradise: Political Violence in Bali.

The Huruku Killings, Archaeological Travels in Southeast Asia. Guduku Diaries of Donald Friend, Volume 4. National Library of Australia, p. Guerlain supplemented the ethyl vanillin in Shalimar with an alcoholic tincture of vanilla to lend a feeling of naturalness to the synthetic.

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